#.and I do feel like it. it’s gotta be intentional to a large extent.

[dreamerdrop]

Julian does kind of strike me as someone who just sort of. Endures suffering and then pushes it way, way down and pretends it doesn’t hurt.

Bad things happen and he just sits quietly and then pushes it down and pretends he’s okay so he can get on with whatever he needs to get on with.

Doesn’t know how to process trauma or misery inside himself, but he can help other people with theirs, so he just. Keeps going. Keeps working. Keeps trying.

It makes sense, I mean, the pivotal traumatic incident in his life was one he has never been allowed to even allude to out of fear. His parents don’t seem very emotionally available for him either, so he’s definitely never talked out those issues with them. So he’s probably just grown up pushing any off feelings back down and focusing on something else.

And even when his big ol secret is finally out, he still doesn’t really talk about it or acknlowedge it unless someone basically drags him kicking and screaming into having to focus on it. He never really talks about or addresses like. Anything.

Like his attempts at curing the blight and how fucked up he was over that. Or the time he thought he could save the Jem’Hadar from their ketracel white addiction. (And boy howdy does that episode take on new layers of pain when you think about him being so sympathetic to entities that were genetically engineered to suffer and his own backstory.) Surviving a psychic attack that basically involved his own subconscious mind trying to talk him into embracing death. A month in a prison camp where he probably definitely thought he was going to just die there, and then realizing no one knew he was gone, and his friends are not anywhere near disturbed enough by any of what just happened.

(To be clear, I think it’s fine that they didn’t realise it was a changeling. I think the reaction they have when they find out retroactively, however, is like. Guys. A minute ago you thought Julian Bashir, your close friend of several years, beloved station doctor, had betrayed the federation and had to be killed. Guys. Forget Julian for a second. How was this not traumatic for the rest of you?)

Then there’s all of that Sloan fuckery which is basically just three episodes of one man trying to gaslight Julian into a dissociative break for reasons.

And he just. Bounces back. Next episode, time to move on, insists he’s totally fine. Except he’s not. He gets gradually more and more tired and miserable and closed off but he just. Never fucking talks about it to anyone. Never deals with how messed up he’s slowly becoming. Never recovers. Never heals. Never gets closure for any of it.

He has so many wonderful moments where he comforts someone else when they break, when they’re scared, when they let all the bad stuff finally make them collapse.

But Julian just never really collapses like that, and it’s like he actively ensures he will never have the chance to collapse because he doesn't want to (and probably doesn’t know how to) deal with any of his issues.

Can you imagine what it would look like when he finally breaks.

[rybonucleic-ket]

queer coding: eddie munson - analysis (2.0)

---

Eddie's gay as fuck.

get comfy, we'll be here a while

hoping somebody actually reads because I spent a concerning amount of time on this :') I may be mentally unwell

PARALLEL

4x01 - Eddie and Chrissy's drug deal scene

now this scene is like, all of the material Edissy shippers use. but.

if you actually look at it

it parallels s3 Steve and Robin on the floor of the Russian base so fucking hard that you cannot tell me it wasn't intentional

like

~~~ 'how in the holy living fuck am I here with the King/Queen' ~~~

"I feel like I'm losing my mind right now, doing a drug deal with Chrissy Cunningham, the Queen of Hawkins High."

"I can't believe I'm gonna die in a secret Russian base with Steve 'the Hair' Harrington. It's just too trippy, man." [...] "The King of Hawkins High himself."

~~~ 'course you don't remember' ~~~

"Y'know, this isn't the first time we've, uh, hung out." [...] "I wouldn't remember me either, Chrissy!"

"Do you even remember me from that class?" [...] "Of course you don't."

~~~ 'but I do.' ~~~

"Middle school talent show. you were doing that thing, the thing you do. it was pretty cool."

Tuesdays and Thursdays, so you were always late."

LIKE

I'm so mad, Chrissy and Eddie could've been fruity besties like Rob n Steve

why the Suffer brothers gotta be like that

NON-CONFORMITY AND FRUITYNESS

4x01 - reasons for outcast

we're introduced to Eddie with him mocking the satanic panic surrounding D&D. the crack ass article reads:

"Studies have linked violent behavior to the game, saying it promotes satanic worship, ritual sacrifice, sodomy, suicide, and even murder."

if you weren't aware, sodomy is a term used for various "crimes against nature", technically applying to any non reproductive sex, but largely referring to gay sex (I don't think anyone called straight people using condoms sodomy, like, ever) that stems from blatant religious homophobia. it comes from the story of Sodom, in the Bible, which actually was not about gay people at all. the term itself associates queerness with a lot of really bad shit with a high potential of triggering people, so you can look up the story of Sodom if you want to see the horrific extent to which religion has been twisted and weaponized.

now, D&D was primarily stigmatized in the eighties on the account of baseless, delusional satanic panic and the nerdiness of it, generally less about the game turning people gay.

but the fact that the article put "sodomy" in a "violent behavior" category next to human sacrifice and suicide, is an unfortunately accurate depiction of 80s homophobia. even so, considering that D&D making people gay was a less common delusion, it genuinely could've been left out by the Duffers. like, it's accurate, but not necessary to mention to catch the drift of the stigma around D&D. if it was one of the primary conspiracies, sure, but it wasn't. it was a conspiracy, but the fact that they included "sodomy" rather than any of the other less common conspiracies....hm.

anyway, anyway, back to Eddie. now, along with D&D, metal also had satanic panic delusions associated with it (and still does!). Eddie sits at a table full of D&D nerd metalheads, yet... he's Eddie 'the Freak' Munson. the freakiest of freaks. the most alienated of his friend group. which, I mean, makes it seem like there's another factor that makes him more of a freak in the eyes of Hawkins, Indiana. whatever could that be?

PARALLEL

Will Byers and Eddie Munson. if you look at it, they're bullied in very similar ways. s1 and s2, we're told and shown that the Party is seen as a group of outcasts, but Will is the capital F, most alienated, Freak. Will has been seen as different and condemned for being gay since he was a little kid. this observed queerness in Will is what makes him more outcast.

similarly, while in a group with the same interests he's condemned for, Eddie is THE Freak. the capital F, freakiest of freaks. as said before, looking at his friend group, there's not really an explanation unless Eddie has another factor people observe and condemn him for. considering he's got parallels with the only two confirmed gay characters in the series within the first episode he's introduced, it's very likely that factor is Eddie being gay.

RUNNING AWAY - QUEER SYMBOLISM AND WAYNE MUNSON

"There is no shame in running. Not today."

"When I see danger, I just turn heel and run. at least, that's what I've learned about myself."

"I didn't run away this time, right?"

Eddie talks a lot about running away from things that scare him. which, like, yeah love, who doesn't. but Eddie is so conscious of his tendency to run. mind you, almost every single character ran (or tried to) the first time they saw the upside down shit. honest to god, Eddie saw something incredibly horrifying, he didn't run away significantly more than anyone else, all things considered. he had to keep running or Jason was literally going to kill him. he was not exceptionally cowardly. why the hell is he so hung up on running away?

we know like, jack shit about Eddie's family. his dad might be in jail. his mom is never mentioned. all we know is his dad was a douche and he lives with his uncle. enter Wayne Munson!

4x02 - Wayne to Nancy, on Eddie

"My nephew, he may look dangerous," [...] "No matter what anyone says, and they will say things, believe you me. This wasn't Eddie." [...] "It's just...not in his nature."

4x05 - Wayne to Dustin, on Eddie

"I can't imagine we got anything to talk about. My nephew is innocent. He's still missing. I'll put up as many posters as I need until he's found."

Wayne is very well aware of the shit people talk about Eddie, and very adamant that he is a good person no matter what social expectations say of him. so, this is what we know about Eddie's family: his dad is a douche and Eddie no longer lives with him, and Wayne is cool and loves Eddie beyond what anyone else thinks of him, which is who Eddie lived with up until the witch hunt.

we obviously know very little about his family, and this is based on what very little we know, but. Eddie is insistent that he's cowardly for running. his father was an ass and he doesn't live with him anymore. Eddie lived with Wayne, who loves Eddie and gives zero fucks what society says about his nephew. it seems like Eddie lived with wayne for a while, but the amount of time he stayed with his uncle is unspecified. Wayne is persistently defensive of Eddie against those who think poorly of him.

so. this leads me to a few theories. a) Eddie's dad went to prison (Eddie discussed his dad being renowned for getting in trouble w Steve) and Eddie went to live with Wayne b) Eddie's old man said some nasty shit about him and Eddie ran away, living with the unanimously supportive Wayne.

both seem plausible, Eddie saying his dad taught him to steal cars as a kid, and Eddie being weirdly fixated on shame in running away, considering the vast majority of people would also run if they saw the shit he did, so running was genuinely not abnormal or cowardly.

if we take the second into account, I'd say whatever shit his dad did to make him run was probably homophobic. that's just a theory, though.

EDDIE AND NONCONFORMITY

as previously mentioned, Eddie is the capital F Freak of Hawkins high. while that treatment parallels Will, Eddie's response to it definitely doesn't. Will shrinks into himself in response to alienation, Eddie embraces his otherness like nobody else. Eddie is the most adamant supporter of rejecting the norm and bullshit social expectations.

4x01 - Eddie on conformity

"It's forced conformity. That's the real monster. That's what's KILLING THE KIDS!!"

what, pray tell, would cause such incredibly differing responses?

here's what I think. Will has like, a lot, a lot of fear of rejection. he tells Mike this explicitly. Will starts sobbing when Jonathan tells him he'll be there no matter what, which was absolutely Jonathan telling him he knew Will was gay and was supportive, I'm not gonna analyze the whole scene, but that was exactly what Will needed.

I am not, in any way, shape, or form, hating on Joyce or Jonathan, as a disclaimer. I would never. I do think that they didn't talk about Will being gay when they probably needed to. or say like, that's chill, we'd still love you if you were gay. some kind of explicit acceptance. understandably, that was for sure a difficult conversation to have in the eighties.

To contrast, Wayne, in 2/3 of his scenes, says Eddie is a good person regardless of any norms or opinions of others. such contrast between Will and Eddie's responses is because Eddie isn't really scared of rejection, and I think that stems from the extent to which Wayne voiced support.

FUN PART!!

drumroll...hanky code! hanky code is a signaling system used primarily by gay men that indicates sexual roles/preferences/kinks and so on. I think it's still in use today? but it was significantly more common in the 70s-90s. throughout season four, Eddie wore a black hanky in his back left pocket, which indicates domming in S&M. sure, it's possible it was a coincidence, but I doubt it. his hanky is consistently in his left pocket; so consistently, in fact, that in Max's trailer, he asks her for a bandana instead of using the one in his pocket. hmmm. but yeah I guess they could've accidentally made him gay and kinky. a freak of other sorts, if you will.

EDDIE AND STEVE

as much as I love steddie, this is not me saying they're canon. this is me showing you why Eddie was not demonstrating straight boy behavior.

so, the 80s had a much different culture around male friendship than we do today. platonically flirting with other guys was not a thing straight boys did. like sure, today all the jocks smack each other's asses and moan at each other, but that didn't happen in the 80s. not with straight guys. that was very strictly interpreted as gay. and homophobia was so potent then, straight guys would worry about seeming gay (fig. a: Jason's response to Erica implying he and Lucas were a thing) hence, a straight guy from the eighties would not voluntarily put his face inches away from that of a male friend while calling him "big boy".

[camaro-and-smokes]

Dream a Little Dream of Me

Chapter 18: Smoke Gets in Your Eyes

Tags: Angst, wedding plans

Summary: Billy starts organizing the wedding. It doesn't quite go the way anyone planned.

Other chapters on tumblr >>

Read on AO3 >>

::::::::::

Steve woke up and reached out his hand on his side in search of Billy. The hand found what it was looking for—after a way too long break—and Steve turned on his side opening his eyes. Billy was snoring lightly and hugging his pillow, his face relaxed and calm. Steve shuffled closer to him with his pillow and put his hands under the pillow. He didn't want to disturb the sleeping beauty next to him, the one he loved today even more than he did yesterday. "I'll never tire of waking up next to you, gorgeous," he whispered, and smiled. "My husband," he tried on the word.

It still felt surreal that less than twelve hours ago he had actually proposed to Billy, who had accepted, and they were now engaged to be married. They'd known each other barely for two months, and everyone he had told about his intentions to ask Billy to marry him had called him mad. To him, though, it was the sanest thing he'd done in a long time.

Being with Billy was so different from anything he'd had before. Being with a man was one thing, and he sure as hell never imagined getting married to one. But Billy allowed himself to be pampered by him, not something most of his girlfriends had allowed him to do to this extent. Now he did it just to see if there was a limit when Billy would tell him to stop or what he did was too out there. He had got Billy a big surprise for his next birthday - or for a wedding gift, whichever came first. If that didn't get Billy to tell him to stop, he didn't know what would, really. But most important of all, Billy saw him as who he was instead of his riches. It had been clear from day one, and Steve had never realized how important that was to him. Having someone next to him who was there because of him made him work less and enjoy life more, and apparently it also made him easier to be around, according to Robin, at least.

It never could have been anyone else than Billy he'd rather spend the rest of his days with.

In fear of accidentally waking him up, Steve fought the urge to brush away the stray curls that had fallen in front of Billy's eyes. And it wasn't the only urge he had to fight, despite feeling deliciously sore from the previous night. So, he got up and head up to the closest bakery for some fresh baguette and pain au chocolates. Yes, he could get them from the room service and they'd probably be just as good - but this was Paris. He wanted to go out and get them himself and then wake Billy up to a heavenly smell of fresh baked delicacies that were the best in the world, at least in his opinion.

And a heavenly smell was exactly that woke Billy up. Coffee. Fresh dark roasted coffee right in front of his nose. He opened his other eye and saw a mug from where steam rose lazily up in a beam of sunlight, held by a large hand in front of him. "Good morning," Steve said. Billy smiled. "Mhh," he let out. "Morning." "You gotta sit up before you take this. It's literally steaming hot." Billy took a deep breath, sat up pulling his hair back and moved to lean to the headboard. When Steve handed him the mug with a peck on his forehead, he smiled. "Can you wake me up like this at home too, please?" he asked, his voice still raspy from just waking up. Steve sat next to him and presented him with fresh pastries and slices of baguette with pieces of melted chocolate on top. "Only in Paris, gorgeous," he replied. "But we can visit here whenever you want." Billy took a bite of the baguette and had to close his eyes. ”Oh god,” he mumbled, ”this is...” he let out a satisfied moan ”...heaven.” ”I know,” Steve said, smiling, and took a bite of his own piece of bread. ”So, what do you want to do today?” Billy looked at Steve, wiping the chocolaty crumbs from the corner of his mouth with his finger to his mouth. ”Aren't we going home? I mean, I have a job to do for a few more days, but I can ask Eddie what he thinks about that now that Chrissy is here.” “We can stay until the tour is over. I just won't be leaving you behind,” Steve said and put his hand on Billy's thigh, stroking it. “So you are stuck with me. And it's traveling day for the crew, and we'll travel by plane, so you'll be in Nice within a few hours from the moment you want to leave. So, we have the day to ourselves.” Billy smiled a wide smile, making Steve's heart skip a beat. ”Perfect.” He snuggled under Steve's arm. “I'm in Paris with my almost-husband. This is where I want to be.” Steve wrapped his arm around Billy's shoulder and kissed the top of his head. “So, what do you want to do, husband-to-be?” “Can we go to the Louvre? I've always wanted to go there. And eat in some super fancy restaurant?” ”Yes, we absolutely can do that. You want to go shopping?” Billy looked up at Steve and smiled slyly. ”You mean some nice things?” Steve smirked. ”You can buy other clothes too.” ”You spoil me rotten.” ”That's precisely the point. Also, we need to start planning for the wedding. Should we get married here?” Billy almost choked on his coffee. ”Wow, wow, wow, slow down,” he said. ”I want to get married, but not that soon.” ”I don't mean now. I mean, would Paris be the perfect place? Whenever you want to have the wedding.” ”Remind me again how anyone else but the jet-set people you know would get to the wedding?” ”We fly them in, of course. And pay for their hotels.” ”Ah, right. Nothing making people feel like second class than having them flown to the other side of the world, all expenses paid, for just one half a day.” Steve stared in front of him. ”Okay, when you put it like that, I guess it might seem extravagant...” Then he looked back at Billy. ”But we can have any kind of wedding you want.”

-:-

Three weeks later, Billy was standing in the penthouse's foyer rubbing his face with his hands. He'd just guided the wedding planner out after meeting with her for the first time, and he was already feeling the same choking feeling he'd had when he'd been stuck in the apartment after the media frenzy.

Steve had told him he could have the wedding look any way he wanted. So, he had sat down with the planner to choose a theme. They'd go see a florist and visit possible caterers next week.

But instead of feeling exhilarated, he felt sick. A knot was forming in his stomach, growing bigger with each tiny detail he was forced to decide on.

It wasn't the getting married part that made him feel like his insides were being pulled out through his throat. Nor the planning of the wedding. It was the number of people on the guest list. One that he had with Steve together, yes, decided upon. A list that was full of people only Steve knew—because he didn't want to let him down. Steve had given him free reins over all details of the party, and it was the least Billy could do to allow Steve to have all his family and his friends and people he worked with at the wedding. All 250 of them.

All Billy wanted was to have his sister, Max, and two of his best friends, Eddie and Chrissy, attend. While he had family too and people he worked with, these three were the few he actually wanted to share that special moment with.

When Steve came home, he found Billy sitting in his favorite place: on the floor of the living room in front of the transparent wall, leaning his elbows to his knees, looking outside. “Hey,” Steve said when he sat next to Billy. When Billy said nothing, he leaned his shoulder against Billy's. “A penny for your thoughts.” “It's nothing. I'm just overwhelmed. So many decisions to make and so little time.” “I checked the venue. It was free on that day, so I booked it. But just see it with...with the... Fuck.” Steve laughed. “Go see it with the planner. I can't remember her name.” Billy smiled weakly. “Yeah, I will. I'm sure it's great.” “You don't sound so excited about it.” Billy shook his head. “I'm just a little tired. Didn't sleep well last night. I'll be alright.” Steve wrapped his arm around Billy's shoulders and pulled him close. “If you say so.”

-:-

It was three weeks before the wedding, when Eddie stopped by the penthouse unannounced. “You should've called me and let me know you were coming,” Billy said when they were in the elevator going up after he'd had to collect Eddie from the front desk. Eddie laughed. “I didn't remember that the clerk was that stiff.” “He's not a clerk, he's a guard. Someone who needs to know if a ragged musician like you is about to visit the millionaire's penthouse,” Billy replied, amused. “Yeah, I know. Sorry.” “Nah, it's okay. So, is the world tour finished?” “We still have five gigs in Japan, but then it's done. I'm itching to have the time to write some new material. Hey, maybe you could write some lyrics for the next album?” “You've asked me that before and like I said then, I say now, thank you, but no. I don't want anyone to know that I write.” “You could use your alias. Or come up with a new one.” “I really don't know...” “You could write a poem for Mr. Fortune 500. I could then make a song of it. As a wedding present for you guys.” Billy glanced at Eddie. “Would you make it a good one? The best you've ever written and the only one you can never release to the world? Could you live with that?” Eddie smiled. “As a wedding present for you, yeah. Definitely.”

“So, do you already have the jitters?” Eddie asked as he plopped down on the couch in Billy's office. Billy sat on the other couch across from Eddie. “If I'm brutally honest with you, I'm fucking terrified.” Eddie smiled. “Well, you should be a little nervous. You're going to be a Harrington!” “I'm terrified, as in I'm seriously contemplating of running away.” Eddie sat up straight, his eyes wide open. “Say what again? I don't think I heard right. You want to run away?” Billy bit his lip and looked at his friend. “I haven't been sleeping for weeks, and I had to raise the dosage of my anxiety meds just to manage the meetings with the planner and florist and who the fuck else.” “Uh... So... Are you worried that you're marrying the wrong person? Because that would be valid. You've known each other just for, what, four months? And he asked you to marry him only after two. And the wedding is in three weeks from now.” Billy shook his head. “It's not that. I've tried to figure it out, and I know I love him and that I want to marry him.” “Okay, uh... So what's the deal, then?” “There's going to be 238 people there that I've either met once or haven't met at all. There's going to be 15 people I actually know.” “What did he say to that?” Billy looked away and said nothing. “Oh, for fuck's sake, Hargrove,” Eddie muttered and rubbed his forehead with his hand. “You have to tell him.” “And how do I do that at this stage? It is just three weeks away. And I like everything, it's not that. The reception venue is amazing and the decorations and the flowers and the food and the cake—everything is exactly how I wanted.” “But you're still planning on ditching him on the altar?” Eddie asked, confused. “Yeah, I know you're not getting married in a church but...” Billy squeezed his eyes closed. “No! I just...” his voice trailed away. “You just don't really want your wedding to be like that, right?” Eddie asked after a while, when Billy didn't continue. Billy nodded. "Why is it you tell me these things but not to him? Christ! You're supposedly soulmates and you're marrying him!" "It's not that easy..." "It's exactly that easy! Do you want to remember your wedding because you hated it or because you loved it?" Billy rolled his eyes. "The later, duh." "Okay. When is he coming home?" “He should be home any time now. Why?” Billy's eyes widened. “Wait, you're telling him?" he asked, alarmed. “Well, someone has to. You'll regret it for the rest of your life if you go through with it and hate everything. I don't want you to do that to yourself. Hell, it's the most important day of your life so far!” "No, fine, okay, uh...I'll tell him. But on my own time." "No, no," Eddie said, and pointed a finger at Billy. "No 'on my own time'. We both know that time will never come. You're going to tell him once he comes home. If you don't, I will. Pick one." Billy glared at Eddie and shook his head. "Fine."

"Hey, gorgeous," Steve said, smiling when he saw Billy sitting on the couch in the living room. When he saw Eddie sitting on the other couch, he clenched his teeth and stopped in his tracks. "What's up?" "Uh...umm," Billy started. Steve sat on the couch next to Billy and glanced at Eddie suspiciously. They'd cleared the air between them and talked things through, what happened in Paris and what the history between Eddie and Billy really was, but Steve just couldn't trust Eddie. And they both knew it. "I'm here just as a support," Eddie said, spreading his hands. Steve looked back at Billy. "Then what's going on, gorgeous?" Billy fidgeted with the hem of his shirt and said nothing. Steve looked at Eddie, frowning. "What is it?" Eddie and Billy looked at each other. Eddie sighed. "He doesn't want the wedding." Steve's eyes bulged, and he turned to look at Billy, horrified. “What?!” Billy glared at Eddie and then looked at Steve. “I don't want a big wedding. I do want to marry you, though.” Steve stared in front of himself for a while, stunned. Then he got up and walked by the transparent wall, placing his hands on his head and taking a deep breath. After a while looking outside and processing the news, he turned to look at Billy. "The wedding is in three weeks. Everything is confirmed and the guests have booked their hotels and so on. Everything is ready!" "I don't care about the people or the venue or the food!" Billy said, frustrated. "I know fifteen people out of almost three hundred who have been invited. I don't want my wedding to be like that!" “Then what kind of wedding do you want?” Steve exasperated. "I don't know! But I know I don't want three hundred guests!" Billy shouted, throwing his arms in the air. Steve looked at Billy, mortified. Then he turned his gaze to Eddie. "Did you know about this?" he asked sourly. "No, man! He told me an hour ago." "Right. Okay." Steve let out a deflated breath. "Baby, why didn't you tell me before?" Billy grimaced. "I thought I wanted it all, too." “Are you sure it's not just stress?” Steve asked hopefully. He walked back to Billy and sat down. “I mean, there's been a lot of work in organizing this, and you've done it all alone. And getting married is a big change.” Billy looked away. "Every time I think of saying our vows in front of all those people, of which most are strangers to me, I get a panic attack. It's not just stress," he said quietly. "Okay then," Steve said, leaning to the backrest and stared at the ceiling, then closed his eyes, taking a deep sigh. "I guess I'll start making cancellations then." Billy brushed Steve's hand with his, lacing their fingers. "Baby, I'm sorry I said nothing before. I want to marry you. I really do. Just...let's just tone it down. Okay?" Steve pulled his hand away and got up. “I really need to start with the cancellations,” he said coldly as he walked towards his office.

Billy broke into tears on the couch. Eddie sat next to him and hugged him, letting Billy's tears fall on his shirt—once again. “See? See?! I didn't want this!” Billy snapped at Eddie. “Fuck this,” Eddie said, letting go of Billy and got up. “Eddie! What are you...” Billy managed to say before Eddie vanished into the corridor after Steve.

Eddie stormed into Steve's office. “What the fuck was that?! Billy told you how he felt, and you just walked away. Do you have any idea how rare it is for him to actually say how he feels?” Steve looked up from his laptop. “Yes, I actually do. But have you any idea how much everything...” He paused mid-sentence and grimaced. “You know, it's none of your business, actually. I'd appreciate if you'd leave me.” “At least he didn't go through a wedding he didn't really want and not tell you he didn't want it.” Steve stared daggers at Eddie. “He just threw a few hundred thousand dollars into thin air by doing that. I think I'm allowed to be annoyed about it.” “So, there's a price for love, after all.” “Excuse me?” Eddie clenched his teeth. “I said there's a price for love after all.”

“Eddie, out. Now!” Billy said from the doorway where he was standing. Eddie glared at Steve, then at Billy, his mouth a thin line. “You simply told him how you feel, that shouldn't...” “Eddie, he's right, it is none of your business,” Billy said, his arms crossed on his chest. Then his expression softened. “You don't have to protect me anymore. I know his love for me doesn't have a price. It has nothing to do with the money spent on the wedding. And I totally get his point of view, it is a hell of a lot of money he has spent on the wedding. Which is why I don't want to cancel it!” Eddie looked at him, bewildered. “But you said that you want to run away! Isn't that a sign that you should at least consider cancelling?” Billy looked at Steve, who stared at him gobsmacked. Billy grimaced and closed his eyes. “Eddie, thank you for being a friend and concerned for my well-being. Your heart is in the right place and I appreciate it,” he said and opened his eyes. “But I really think you should leave now. Me and my husband have things to talk through.”

[helpimhyperfixating]

Join Me - Jotaro x Reader

Word Count: 1316

"Y/N, join me." Jotaro murmured as he pressed a kiss into your shoulder, his arms wrapped around your waist from behind.

About two minutes ago, your husband had entered your office, clearly intent to annoy you as much as possible, determined to distract you from your work. Or at least, that is what it looked like in your eyes.

"Jotaro, no. I have to work." You protested, wriggling your arms out of his hold so you could continue writing.

Hugging you even closer now that your arms were out of his hold, Jotaro placed his chin on your shoulder and softly started trailing kisses all over your jaw and neck.

"Jotaro..." You sighed, doing your best to decline him. He was making it harder and harder to do so though.

"Baby..."

You stiffened a bit and Jotaro smirked against your skin. He knew how weak you were for that nickname, which is why he only ever used it sparingly. Deploying it in moments like these so that you would become jelly in his hands.

"You've been working all day. Just come join me in the bath for now."

Your resilience nearly broke but you steeled yourself at the last possible moment. "I'll be able to relax more when I'm done. In just a few days this project is over, then we can do whatever we want."

Jotaro had already expected this answer however. "You need a break, you're pushing yourself too hard. I'll carry you if I have to."

"Why are you so insistent on this?" You turned your head to look at him, only for your eyes to widen and a squeak to leave you when that action gave him the perfect angle and range to plant his lips on yours.

He firmly kissed you, almost pleading with it as he tried to coax you to come with him, trying to keep his lips on yours as he pulled back, hoping you would get the hint and move with him and get out of your chair.

You didn't however and instead broke the kiss, smirking a little when you saw a tiny pout on his face.

Jotaro wasn't one for giving up however and he moved his face closer to yours again, pushing his forehead against your temple. "You can take your work with you, otherwise what did you make me buy that bath tray for. Just join me."

"I made you buy it for when we want snacks in the bath." You grinned but Jotaro's expression didn't change, his forehead still against you.

"Baby, please." There was that nickname again and that was enough to break you, making you give in.

"A-Alright, so long as you'll finally let me focus on my work." You stuck out your bottom lip a little bashfully, looking off to the side while you could see Jotaro smirk from the corner of your eye, content that you had finally given into him.

- - - -

Sitting in the bath, you were hunched over the tray where all kinds of papers were now strewn over it.

You had been diligently working, doing your best to keep your hands and wrists out of the water so that it would not stain the papers, your husbands legs on either side of your body while you were sitting up, bent over your work.

Jotaro boredly watched you as he sat behind you but finally had enough of staring at your back. He got you in here to relax and cuddle with you, goddamnit, not for you to ignore him and keep slaving away.

"Good grief, Y/N." With an eye roll, he wrapped his arms around your midriff and pulled you down onto him, intent on making your back lean against his chest.

The sudden pull surprised you and you yelped slightly as your pen flew out of your hand, tumbling through the air and landing somewhere on the bathroom floor.

Your back crashed into Jotaro's chest and you could feel your spine crack and protest from the sudden new position, having been pulled out of your hunch from before.

"Oh, wow. Ow." You groaned, earning a chuckle from the man behind you. You immediately tried to change your position, maybe get up, but Jotaro was quicker.

In a flash, he had his arms firmly wrapped around your torso, keeping you from sitting up, all the while his legs encased yours, being wrapped around them. You were completely caged in by him.

"Jotarooo." You whined half-heartedly, more out of obligation than actual want, cause the satisfying crack and stretch of your back clouded your thoughts.

"Hm?" He hummed directly against your ear, having pressed his cheek to the side of your head as he held you close.

"I gotta work. You said you'd let me focus and continue working." Jotaro could practically hear you pout as you spoke and had a hard time containing his smile. God you were adorable, turning to putty so easily in his arms so that he could hold you close.

"I did let you work." Was his smart reply as you felt his arms tighten a bit around your form. "Now I just want you to focus..." His hand caressed your side a bit. "...on you and me." With that, he slowly sank down in the tub until the water reached your chin, your head still resting on his clavicle.

Figuring that fighting any more was useless, you just sighed, a sign to both Jotaro and yourself that you had given in. You knew that when he got like this, there was no changing his mind anyways.

"Good girl." You swore you heard Jotaro mutter that into your hair, barely audible for even himself.

Star Platinum suddenly manifested, lifting the bath tray with your work and setting it aside on the sink's countertop, out of the way, before disappearing back into its user.

Now that there was no longer a tray obscuring your view of a large part of the bath, you couldn't help but giggle softly as you looked at your entwined legs.

Now, the two of you knew Jotaro was a tall man, and when buying the house you kept that in account for almost anything, but even so, with the two of you cuddled in the bath like this, Jotaro proved to just be too damn tall.

While your toes were grazing the edge of the tub, Jotaro needed to pull his legs up a bit, the way he had wrapped around you making his knees stick up out of the water, your legs nestled in the hollow of said knees, comfortably holding you close.

"The water's gone cold, that is how long you made me wait." Jotaro then huffed, lifting his leg from yours to instead softly rub his foot up and down your calf.

"Sorry." You whispered, finally sinking completely into your husband, much to his delight. He didn't know why, but feeling your full weight lean on him always made him so happy. Like you trusted him so much to allow him to carry you, hold you, care for you while you were at your most vulnerable; allowing yourself to relax completely in his presence to an extent where you let all your muscles go slack, no need to stay on guard when he was around, not even to hold yourself up.

"It's alright." Jotaro's reply was barely above a whisper himself, pressing a small kiss right behind your ear before he unwrapped one arm from your waist, using it to turn on the tap and let hot water back in. Meanwhile, he used his foot to pull out the plug, not feeling like letting go of you just yet.

"You're so needy sometimes." You grinned softly even though he couldn't see.

Jotaro just tightened his arms around you at that, pulling you just a bit deeper into his chest.

"Only for you."

[lovesickrobotic]

HAL 9000 with a darling that intentionally tries to make them jealous?

-🥖

HAL is not one that usually finds himself feeling much emotion, even if this fact had been interrupted by you. He still chose to keep his voice nearly-emotionless in order not to alarm the crew, and he did not make many outward moves - certainly not any that Dave or Frank would notice, only yourself. He was subtle about his desire for you, really, and he did a nearly impeccable job to hide it; it was so easy when your voice was monotonous.

After realizing that the AI favored you, you found it worthwhile entertainment to arouse his jealousy from deep within crevices he was not used to being exposed - it was something of a game to you, and he picked up on and reciprocated this. Guilt and reprimand for 'the sake of the mission' was rare, and HAL was happy to play along with your shenanigans as long as you didn't make a leap far too large for his databanks to process without acting first.

You, Frank, and Dave were all sitting together, a table infront of you with velcro attached to every tile of Rummikub; it was a game that the ship contained and that all of you enjoyed religiously, passing the duller moments in between rest often with it. It had been reimagined for space travel without gravity in the case of emergency for stress relief, and it had become that relief when there was little else to tie you and the other two together emotionally - it was true, while Dave and Frank had at least a few things in common, you felt far removed from both of them and, by extent, your other soundly-sleeping crewmates. You wouldn't admit it, but you felt closer to a machine than you did the two humans who, beside you, thought carefully about their next moves. HAL watched, always happy to spectate - he'd be far too challenging as a fourth player and so relegated himself to peering through cameras instead.

"So, Dave," you began, "you seem like a pretty interesting guy." You made a 'tsk' sound, your tongue morphing over the roof of your mouth, bored. "I mean, you're really determined. I know you've got other hobbies, though... gotta like something." You reasoned with him skillfully; you wanted to know more about the mysterious man who was so dedicated and did not often join in. You didn't realize it, but HAL listened intently to your every word, examining your face for micro-expressions. Thankfully, there wasn't any related to true interest.

"I suppose," Dave replies, ever the quiet man, "I like tennis, I like dogs, I like space." It's a simple sentence, and it gives you none of the awaited satisfaction you wished for. Instead, it fills you with disappointment. Dave is just not good at conversation, you guess. because he doesn't seem particularly clammed up or uncomfortable. "Is that why you're so toned?" You jest, giving a half-hearted laugh. Oh, boy, you hoped he wouldn't get offended. "Ah, yeah! Been working out a lot before I got here, actually," Dave replies, a slow smile across his face as he plucked a tile from velcro and pressed it down flat against another piece of it. Damn, he was actually pretty good at this game. HAL focuses more deeply on you and less on the game the more you chatter with Dave about his toned body. Oh, you're sometimes just so curious with your little games; you were trying so hard to get even the slightest open reply from the man known for none, and you'd won in a way. Internally, HAL made note of your willingness to socialize, but also began to formulate an interruption.

"Dave," HAL suddenly piped up, his voice as silky and soft as it always was, "your pod requests your presence. I believe you have a call." To you, it's such an obvious fib; to Dave and Frank, HAL is just doing his job. Dave nods appreciatively, pushing his board down and standing up. Before he departs, he looks to you and shakes your hand, and gives Frank his own nod. "Thanks for playing," he mumbles. Then, he walks away, leaving you and Frank with a nearly-complete Rummikub.

HAL wins this time, you think to yourself. You're excited to speak with him later as you finish up your game and natter away about engineering schematics with Frank.

And yet HAL 9000 finds himself drawn closer to you. Each time you elicit this reaction with him, the urge to pull you closer to him is stronger. He wants to talk to you even more when he sees you converse so easily with others. He drinks in every detail you speak, every bit of emotion you add. Sometimes he argues with himself on whether or not to pull you away.

HAL couldn't wait to talk with you again, either.

[illfoandillfie]

Kinktober Day 1: Rimming

Kinktober Masterlist | Regular Masterlist

Pairing: Ben Hardy x Fem!Reader

Words: 3,560

Warnings: Rimming, anal sex, some vaginal fingering, himbo Ben (mild unintentional hypnosis I guess)

A/N: Welcome to Kinktober! This is actually an idea i’ve been thinking about for quite a while. We’ve done himbo Rog and himbo Gwil so it only seemed fair to do himbo Ben and since he’s obviously an ass man......only made sense that he’d be into anal lmao. It seemed like the perfect fit for the first of these prompts. But this is the first time I’ve written (or even really thought about) rimming so I hope it’s okay!

“Geeze Ben, could you maybe close your porn next time. Didn’t really expect to see that autoplay when I woke the computer up this morning,”  Ben snorted into his plate of eggs, “Which one was it?”  “Something called Anal Punisher 3.”  “Don’t know what you’re complaining about, that’s a good one.” His eyes twinkled teasingly and he poked his tongue out as you sat in front of your own plate.  “I’m sure it is.” You chuckled, able to see the funny side now that you weren’t staring directly at close up of a porn stars arsehole, “Just not when I’m trying to check my emails on our shared desktop.”   “As if you’ve never had a cheeky wank at that computer.”  “That’s what I have a laptop for,” You laughed again, shaking your head.  “Alright, fair play. I only left it up cause you got home early last night and I had to, um, clean up.”  You rolled your eyes at the flimsy excuse.  “And if you don’t want me watching Anal Punisher 3 then maybe you should let me punish your anal....arse....fuck, you know what I mean.”  It was your turn to snort into your breakfast, Ben’s clumsy attempt at seduction nearly making you inhale the scrambled eggs. When you finally got yourself under control you said, “I don’t care if you watch it, just shut it down when you’re finished.”   “Sorry love,”  “But  y’know, if you did want to anal arse fuck me tonight I wouldn’t say no.”  Ben’s eyes lit up in excitement. He’d either not heard the joke you’d made at his expense or decided it wasn’t worth bringing up if the possibility of anal was on the table, “Serious?”  “Serious. I’ll even put my plug in when I get dressed so we don’t have to spend as much time on foreplay.”  “If I hadn’t already married you, I’d propose on the spot.” 

But by the time Ben got home he seemed more interested in just cuddling on the couch. You’d done as you said you would and worn your plug all day, constantly thinking about what would happen later that night. Right up until Ben stepped inside yawning, when you snuck off to the bathroom to remove it, realising your plans were unlikely to go ahead. You’d half expected him to fall asleep on the couch after dinner but evidently, some part of him still wanted you. He tapped his thigh and beckoned you towards him, pulling you down so he could hold you close and kiss your shoulder. Soon enough that cuddling had turned to making out, you straddling his lap as you kissed him deeply, his large hands pulling you into him, stroking whatever bare skin he could find. Without thinking you dragged your fingers through his hair. He hummed in response so you did it again, your fingers creating small, firm circles against his scalp, drawing random patterns there as you focused on keeping your lips on his and your tongues entwined. Ben made soft pleased sounds as your fingers kept up their movement, almost moaning at the sensation. You could feel him getting harder under you as you carefully rocked your hips.   “Benny?”  “Huh?”  His hands had begun to roam more, moving down to your arse, grabbing and squeezing as he pulled you against him.  “Kinda got me excited here honey. Might wanna stop if you’re too tired to carry through,”  “What?”   He seemed nearly dazed, not properly comprehending what you were saying.   You shifted your hand to his chest, drawing small circles with your finger, “I mean I’ve been thinking about you fucking me all day anyway.”  “Think?”  “Exactly, thinking about our conversation this morning. Remember? Anal Punisher 3?”  “Anal?” It was still a question but there was a tone of excitement behind the dopey confusion.  “You said you wanted to.... I kinda really want you to.”  “Mmmm,”  “I mean I get it if you’re too tired,” you said softly, stroking your palms over his biceps, “but I’m up for it now if you are. So, do you still want to?”  “Mmhmm,” but as keen as he sounded, Ben didn’t seem inclined to move to the bedroom or even to begin to undress you. He was too caught up in feeling you up and trying to kiss you again.   “Don’t you want me Benny?”  He was slow to react, eyes still shut as he nodded, speech flowing like treacle “Want - you.”  “You can have me.” You had to lean back to stop him from kissing you again. As much as you liked making out, you were getting eager for more and wanted to know where he was at.  He nodded again, not seeming to hear you, and then, when he couldn’t immediately locate your lips again, opened his eyes.   It reminded you of the time a few friends had dragged you and Ben to a hypnotists show. None of your group had been pulled on stage to experience the hypnotic powers the man claimed to have, but those who had been had all worn similar expressions to Ben. Eyes heavy lidded and almost glazed over and when they’d gone back to their seats you’d noticed that they seemed a bit dazed and confused. You’d not seen Ben look like that before. Well, maybe a bit dazed after you gave him a proper good blow job, but nothing to this extent. Not even when you edged him repeatedly. He tended to get whiny and loud rather than glassy eyed and dopey. Usually more talkative too, begging or moaning your name. This was something new.  

Curiously, you stoked his hair back off his face and asked him how he felt, tugging lightly on the ends that reached the back of his neck.  “Good,” he sighed softly, “Kiss?”  You couldn’t deny him that when he’d asked so cutely, so you leaned in to kiss him again, letting him draw you in deeply for a moment. When the chance arose you let your lips slip from his, kissing along his jaw until you reached his ear, “What else do you want?”  Ben hummed softly and then said, “Arse.”  It was unusual for Ben to be so monosyllabic. Even when he was super horny and desperate for you, he could generally get most of a coherent sentence out. Nothing that would win any literary awards of course, but enough so you knew what he meant.  “What do you mean Benny?”  “Ummm....arse.....cock.”  It sounded like it had been a struggle for him to even think of the two words he wanted but you couldn’t help but giggle, “Does that mean you want to fuck me?”  “Yeah,”  “Okay baby. But you have to do everything I say, understand?”  Ben nodded.  “Can you do what I say Benny? Be a good boy and follow my instructions?”  He nodded again, “Yes. Please.”  You kissed him once more, trying not to laugh too much, and then scooted off his lap.  Ben whined as soon as the physical contact was broken.  “If you want my arse we gotta move to the bedroom,”  He frowned as if he didn’t quite understand but let you take his hand all the same and followed you to the bedroom. 

Ben’s hands began to wander again when you stopped to open your bedroom door, grasping your hips and then dropping lower to rest against your behind.   It was hard to ignore the tingle the light contact sent through you but you bit down on your rising need as you turned and grasped Ben’s hands, “Gotta wait for that Benny. Just a little longer.” You stepped back towards the bed and Ben smiled dopily as you pulled him along. “I mean I’m ready but not all the way. But if you help get me lubed up you can fuck my arse for as long as you want.”  It was like a light turned on inside Ben’s mind. His eyes still had that unfocused look but they were wider and he was nodding enthusiastically.  “You gonna undress me or should I start for you?” You laughed and when he didn’t immediately move you began pulling your shirt off over your head, too eager to wait. You reached behind you to unclasp your bra, “C’mon Benny. Help me out.”  Ben blinked twice before he seemed to understand but was soon offering his help, pulling the bra from your arms, gently cupping your breasts as he revealed them, thumbs falling into a familiar rhythm rubbing back and forth over your nipples. Still moving slowly, Ben leaned in and kissed your throat, humming in response as you pressed your chest into his hands and sighed contentedly. But he clearly had something else on his mind because soon enough his hands fell, fingers picking at the waistband of your leggings. Indulging him you quickly shed your pants, turning so he could see the thing he really wanted as you stripped off the final layer of clothing. Ben watched intently as you wiggled your hips teasingly and eked the waistband of your knickers down a few inches. And then something changed. 

You felt it in the air, a shift in energy, but even that wasn’t enough to prepare you as Ben growled and lunged forward, his hands tight on your waist as he lifted you onto the bed, barely giving you time to settle on your hands and knees before he dived in behind you.   All you could manage was to gasp his name as he rushed to tear your underpants down your thighs. But your surprise at his sudden movement doubled as he spread your cheeks and buried his face between them. He’d licked you like that once or twice but only when he’d been eating your pussy and teasingly snuck his tongue elsewhere as you tried to recover from your orgasm. This was entirely different.  

It felt similar to the vaguely tickly sensation he made you feel when he was helping you relax before a round of anal, when he would tease you with light strokes from his fingers until you were shivering and wanting more. But there was more heat to it. His breath hot and his tongue wet as he traced your hole. You felt like you’d been completely lit up from within, like he’d suddenly discovered a hundred more nerve endings than he usually hit. And adding to all the physical sensations of Ben’s fingers holding you open and his mouth exploring your darkest nooks, was the feeling of doing something properly filthy. You’d felt the same when you and Ben first tried anal, completely depraved at enjoying something so taboo. That feeling had lessened as you did it more, your enjoyment then stemming from Ben’s improved skills more than the act itself. But with your head against the sheets and your arse in the air you remembered why you’d liked feeling so downright dirty. It only heightened your desire and made every caress of Ben’s tongue sweeter.  

Of course, best of all was just how into Ben was. You wondered how he could possibly be breathing when every second seemed to be taken up with moans and groans as he feasted on you. The noises started softly as he tantalized you with hard licks against your arsehole and the surrounding area. But as his tongue explored deeper, as he pressed into you, making your arse feel slick and hot with his drool and making your pussy throb, he got louder. He seemed to enjoy you more and more, as if he’d never eaten anything as satisfying in his life. That was enough to have you shaking. You were already wet from grinding against him on the couch but the ways he was touching you and how thoroughly he was enjoying it had you positively soaked.   “Finger me Benny,” you gasped, trying to maintain some of the control you’d intended to have.  Ben did as you asked, never able to deny you what you craved, but it wasn’t up to his usual standard. His fingers weren’t as deft as normal, moving awkwardly and out of time. It was as if his fingers were trying to work off of muscle memory alone, his mind too consumed with something else to take any notice of your cunt.   With a needy whine you clumsily disentangled one fist from the sheets and batted Ben’s hand out of the way, replacing it with your own.  Ben didn’t make any indication that he’d noticed you start touching yourself, except to tighten his grip on your arse, holding you firmly as you began to writhe against your fingers. He happily went back to gripping a cheek in each hand, pulling them wide to give himself better access to your arsehole.   It seemed that wearing your plug had been a good idea because Ben found it easy to press his tongue into you, licking around and making your muscles tighten before withdrawing and sinking in again.   And that stimulation plus your own fingers in your cunt made you moan wantonly into the bedding.  Ben answered with his own long, loud moan of desire, sending a shiver along your spine. It was enough to tip you over the edge, your fingers massaging a spot within you as Ben rapidly tongued your hole. 

You rode out your high before letting your fingers slip back to tangle in the sheets once more, but Ben showed no signs of stopping. He might very well have kept up the intoxicating performance all night if you hadn’t whined his name. Even that wasn’t enough to make him stop entirely, just slow down and hum.  “Ben? Benny?” you gasped, as he readjusted his grip on you, “You gonna fuck me or what?”  Ben groaned as if he didn’t want to stop tasting you but wanted to move on to other things as well. And you were on the verge of instructing him to get the lube when you felt his fingers. He reached under you, two digits carefully tracing along your cunt, sliding through the creamy evidence of your earlier orgasm. He didn’t break contact, his fingers just as softly sliding along your crack and up to your arsehole. And then they were pushing against the ring of muscle.  Usually he’d take his time applying lube but he seemed too lost in the moment to remember it. You didn’t mind too much though. Lube might have made it a touch more comfortable but wearing the plug had helped loosen you up and Ben had thoroughly coated everything with his saliva and your own cum. His fingers breached you moderately easily, making you shiver and whine at the feeling of being filled again.   “God it’s a good thing we do this a lot,” you half sighed, half laughed into the sheets, as Ben’s fingers sank another inch into you.  Ben’s only response was to lean forward and lick around where his fingers were penetrating you, humming happily as he did so. 

Ben seemed inclined to spend just as long fingering you as he did licking you, but the way his fingers moved inside you quickly had you worked up and eager for more.   “God Ben. You’re hard right?”  Ben only pumped his fingers into you faster but you took it as a yes.  "So fuck me already. Please Benny,” It came out whinier than you’d expected so you cleared your throat and tried a proper demand, “I need your cock in my arse now Ben.”  You weren’t sure it would be enough to get Ben’s attention. He seemed too engrossed in fingering you to even hear what you were saying. But thankfully, something broke through his blinders.  Suddenly, his fingers disappeared. It was followed by the sound of his pants coming down and then you felt the head of his cock against your back entrance.  “Wait,” You gasped, “Wait. Lube.”  Ben repeated the word lube in a grunt, shifting hips slightly so he could run his shaft along your soaked cunt. You felt him between your lips, as if he were teasing you, sliding back and forth, coating his length in your juices.   A moment later, he returned to your other hole, his hands on your hips to pull your arse back onto him.  Ben let out a satisfied groan as he sank into you but you were panting roughly, almost seeing stars with how good it felt to finally be filled the way you wanted to be. Once or twice your breath hitched, the discomfort of his size pushing into you exacerbated by the lack of proper lube. But it wasn’t enough to truly bother, certainly not enough to stop. The fact that just seeing your arse had made Ben snap into an animalistic, almost feral demeanour had made you impossibly horny. And you were desperate for him to fuck you properly now he was fully sheathed in your arsehole’s tight embrace.   Ben moaned at the feeling, vocalising your own desire. And then he said something.   “What was that Benny?” you asked, unable to comprehend him.  “Fuck....arse......hngggg.....arse.....” he said though you were sure you were missing something. But as nonsensical as it was it was still hot. Knowing Ben was so desperate for this, for you, knowing you could make him babble incomprehensibly. It was insanely hot.   And then he began to fuck you.   You whined and brought your hand to your pussy again, finding your clit, though Ben’s frantic thrusts made it hard to keep the contact consistent.  

You screamed when you came, voice tearing out of your throat as Ben roughly pounded into you, his hips almost bruising hard against your arse.   It was nearly impossible for you to breathe under so much pleasure and you panted for air as the orgasm subsided.  But Ben was still going, still thrusting into you furiously, grunting with the effort as he neared his own release.   You gasped his name and told him to cum, trying to not get swept away by the feeling of his cock moving inside you, wanted him to keep going almost as much as you wanted to feel his semen warm you from the inside out, and drip out of you.   Your request was enough to make him shudder to a halt, his hands squeezing your hips tightly as he released himself with a groan.  He thrust a few more times and your limbs gave out. You felt them wobble and then collapse under you, Ben’s body pressing you into the mattress as he sank down too, still trying to fuck you.  

It took you saying his name twice before he stopped though he made a reluctant sort of a sound when he realised he had to pull out.  “Well if you didn’t fuck me so well you probably could have gone on a bit longer,” you laughed as he, somewhat grudgingly, pushed himself to his feet.  With a satisfied groan you rolled over and stretched your arm out to grab Ben’s hand so you could pull him onto the bed too.   He lay on his front, sighing as his head fell into the crook of your neck, his body resting almost entirely over yours.   You were half being crushed by his weight but you enjoyed it. It was comforting and warm and you softly drew your hands over his back as you caught your breath properly.  Ben was quiet as he lay there until, some ten minutes later, he suddenly pushed himself to his knees, blinking at you. His eyes still had a vaguely unfocused appearance but the more he blinked the more normal he seemed.   “Are you okay?” He asked slowly.  You laughed and nodded, “More than okay. Lie back down, I’m too tired to sit up.”  He compiled with your request, lowering himself again but this time on his back, “I have no idea what just came over me, babe.”  With a sigh you shifted to your side, propping your head up on one hand, “What do you mean?”  “All I know is I saw your arse and just needed it, more than anything else, more than air, I just wanted you.”  “Gotta admit, it was a little unexpected,” you lay your palm on Ben’s chest, his skin still flushed and warm to the touch, “But ummmm, definitely didn’t hate it.”  His hand landed gently on top of yours, holding you against his heart, “Did I use any lube at all?”  “Only spit and my cum.”  “Fucking hell. Are you sure you’re okay?”  “It’s fine Benny. If I’d needed anything else I would have made you stop. If I’m honest....kind of made it hotter.”  “Babe!”  “Not in a weird way! I’m not going to let you get away without lube all the time.” You laughed, “Just knowing you wanted me so badly was nice.”  “I always want you badly.”  You patted Ben’s chest softly, your heart fluttering, “Does that mean you’d want to eat my arse again another time?”  “You liked it?”  “Well you were very thorough.”  Ben groaned, throwing an arm over his eyes which just made you laugh again.  “I did enjoy it,” you said softly, deciding to put him out of his misery, “Wasn’t necessarily expecting it but it felt really good.”  “Well that’s something. I still don’t understand what just happened though.”  “What’s that saying...Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth?” 

Taglist: @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @hannafuckingsucks @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @queenmylovely @ilovequeenmorethanyou @johndeaconshands @borhapbois @stardust-galaxies @cherries-n-rocknroll @rogersslave @scorpiogemini 

[incoherentbabblings]

Hi!

I love your content, your love for TimSteph, and I was actually going to ask what you love so much about them. I, for extra credit for English, decided to write an analysis of Stephanie (and why I love her so much), but I just got into comics, and cannot really put my feelings for her in words ... which is odd, considering how much I love her and writing. Also, I was going to do a section on why TimSteph is narrative genius, and I needed help elaborating on that too.

Could you help me out, please? Thanks!

(I feel the need to mention that I have read quite a lot of comics with Stephanie in them, though not all. I'm not much of a comic book fan, but I'm really interested in the Batfamily!)

I'll be very happy to write out bullet points that you could talk about, and feel free to go through my ask and I'll babble/TimSteph meta tags for anything that you think may be worth discussing in your own words - there's like four or so years of stuff there to spark your brain.

HOWEVER!!!! Keep in mind though that much of what I have written is half based on textual evidence and half me just writing what I like/wish would crop up in canon.

For example, yes I like to draw comparisons between Tim being cold and Steph being warm, moon and sun and so on, but there's genuinely nothing in text to hint as this being an actual character trait or symbolism. If anything Tim's stated to be warm several times, more than Steph.

So, and I am sorry to be so blunt, but if I take your request in bad faith for a moment, don't use either directly or indirectly what I've written for your work. Especially without actually going and reading the arcs I talk about. A lot of the time it doesn't hold up under genuine textual scrutiny, and we want to be good academics here! There's Death of the Author and then there's me making crap up because I want to include it in a fanfic. Not the same thing! My blog is called IncoherentBabblings for a reason after all!

I will therefore say this: If you want to write about Steph as a character, I would use the below video as a point of reference. Using the below, you can then go into why she resonates with you the way she does, or why her relationship with Tim is so interesting to you.

If I were you: focus on her dynamic character development: cynical to idealistic. And use three points in her publication history to do this: her introduction in Detective Comics, War Games, and Batgirl. I am sorry to recommend War Games as something to read but it is important to her character. Use the Stephanie Brown Wiki to help!

That lends itself to a biography of her character, a look at her motivations and values, her role within the batfam, and so on. You can also use this to make comparisons with her peers, specifically Tim moving in the exact opposite direction development wise; Babs and Cass in their approaches to Batgirl; and the other Robins through her similar character progression as Dick, which in turn allows her to be a good mentor to Damian, and finally how her character arc runs perpendicular to Jason's. Does that make sense?

Anyway, let's get going! If I were to write an academic piece on Stephanie, these are the main points I would work through. In other words, this is what I would do. You probably will not need nor want to go into this level of depth, and you will want to make it much more personal about why she resonates with you, which may be different to why I love her. So don't worry about touching base with all of them. This is like... 10,000 word essay level stuff. And don't get overwhelmed. I've taken your request far too seriously is all.

Again, I can't write it for you! You gotta do the reading and writing I'm afraid.

...But I still wrote 1,500 words anyway. Gosh darnnit.

Steph’s Character Development

Always keep three points in her character history in mind – her aged 14/15 in her introductory arc in Detective Comics, her aged 16 in War Games, and her aged 18/19 in her Batgirl run.

How does she change? How does she grow as a character? What events caused these changes? Compare that angry 14-year-old trying to choke her father, to the 19-year-old crying happily on the roof. A lot happened between those two points! Outline the main plot beats.

Steph's Role as a Batfam Character:

Protagonist or Antagonist: Supporting Protagonist

Static or Dynamic: Dynamic (think of her character development - angry to alturistic; she softens in her life outlook and in the way she treats others as the years go by)

Minor or Major: Minor and we all mourn that fact :(

Foil or Symbolic: A foil to Tim Drake (and to a lesser extent the other Robins, specifically Jason Todd)

Importance of the character/Position in Society: Fourth Robin, third Batgirl, own superhero. Tim's girlfriend, Cassandra's best friend, one of many of Bruce's 'children'. Initially introduced just as a one-off character for a small arc in Detective Comics, brought back with the intention of being a supporting character to Tim Drake, and eventual love interest. Eventually gained enough popularity on her own terms to support her own solo comic, but has since returned to a supporting role. The character she supports, at the end of the day, is Bruce Wayne.

Motivation

What influences their decisions?: Stephanie's dynamic characterisation comes in here. Compare her motivations during her introductory arc, versus why she does what she does in War Games, versus why she dresses up at Batgirl - Stopping her father, getting Batman's approval, need for redemption.

What do they value?: Values emotional openness, vulnerability, second/third/fourth chances.

Goals/Hopes/Dreams: No long term goals/hopes/dreams in the domestic sense... Continue to be vigilante. Be respected by her peers. Continue to improve self worth through deeds. Graduate college?

What are their views: Views the justice system and police as corrupt, but still trusts in the inherent goodness of people. Focus is usually on the individual, rather than societal or structural.

Actions

Behaviour, Attitudes, Impact on Story and other Characters, Internal Struggle (Wants versus Needs): This is why I think you are best to look at three points in her story - Intro Arc, War Games, Batgirl. Focus on her Wants versus Needs - Steph's take a very long time to align, but they finally do in Batgirl.

Character development is usually driven by the conflict between what a character wants. The plot forces them normally to confront the fact that what they want is not gonna work out, and what they needed instead takes priority.

Everything usually goes tits up for Steph when she is in the driver's seat of the narrative because what she wants from a situation is rarely what she actually needs to happen. See every time she seeks Bruce's approval. She wants it. She absolutely does not need it. And only as Batgirl do we get that acknowledgement, which coincides with her being at the healthiest point in her life emotionally. Look at what she wants as Spoiler during her introductory arc, as Robin/Spoiler during War Games, and then as Batgirl. Why is she so unhappy in the former two? Why have her wants finally aligned with her needs with her time as Batgirl?

Character Traits

Personality: Cynical but perky. Sardonic but sincere. Think about how she changes over the time. This can be attributed to her different writers, but - for example - is there a universe reason for why Batgirl Stephanie is so much more socially awkward than Spoiler Stephanie?

Strengths & Weaknesses: Link these two together because Steph is a very good example where her strengths as a character can simultaneously be a weakness. Her determination can lead to her making ill conceived decisions. Her empathy can lead to her putting her trust in the wrong people. Her forgiving nature can lead to her being taken advantage of. Her temper, whilst landing her in hot water, can also just as often get her out of it.

Relationships

How do they interact with others: Focus on which characters pop up in all three arcs – Steph and her parents; Steph and Bruce; Steph and Tim. I am chucking Cass out the window here, sorry Cass, but if you’re focusing on these three arcs, Cass doesn’t really fit in.

How others view them: Conditional love/affection from her father and Bruce. Unconditional love/affection from Tim and her mother (though both are not without serious pitfalls).

How they view others: Stephanie has explicitly never loved her father. She has also never explicitly hated him either. What does that say about her? Look at her changing closeness with her mother. What changed between them, and again, what does that say about Stephanie? Crystal got sober, supported Stephanie through her pregnancy, Arthur was removed from their lives, Stephanie makes a conscious effort to be closer to her after returning ‘from the dead’, though continues to lie consistently to her. Stephanie admires Bruce, whilst also right from the get go insisting she does not answer to him. She never quite lets go of wanting that approval.

How does society view them: Her outsider role within the Batfam. She never quite belongs, and at points her closest relationships are actively discouraged from seeing her. Which Tim specifically never entertains. This outsider nature bites literally everyone in the butt during War Games. Her outsider status is still in place by the time Batgirl concludes, due to its largely self-contained nature as a book, but this is less being an outsider more having earned to right to operate independently. Trust has been given and earned.

Dialogue

What does she say and how: A teenage girl in New Jersey from a working class background has a very distinct voice. She does not mince words, nor does she hide what she is feeling. If she is happy, she will say so. If she is annoyed, she will say so. What she won’t do is ask for help when she needs it, due to her background formulating a need for her ‘to do things on her own’.

Think of famous/important Steph quotes from the three arcs I keep talking about – the excuse me if I don’t jump when you bark, the I really was part of the legend, the only variable you can control is yourself. These show how Steph views others and herself.

When I was writing I Would Have Loved You, I literally made a spreadsheet where I have picked out what I think are pertinent quotes from every New 52 issue featuring Tim or Steph along with a synopsis that explained what they were up to/what the main theme of the issue was. Not saying you should do the same because I’m just that goddamn anal when it comes to this sort of stuff, but the point is – look for quotes by/about Steph which highlight the above things we’ve talked about. You have thirty years to go through!

Author Intention

What purpose does this character serve?: A character that young female readers could get attached to – the every girl/girl next door archetype or a character that young boys could have a crush on – the kind of girl who’s into the same sort of stuff as you, I think Chuck Dixon once said of her, from her initial appearance. Fodder for Bruce and Tim’s man pain in War Games. Batgirl it’s a combination of filling the void for a female lead solo character in the batbooks, but also tonally taking on a much lighter and self-contained book that new readers could jump into very easily, directly compared to the more lore heavy Batman, Detective Comics, and Red Robin books.

What is the author trying to communicate: Steph’s character shows that determination can only get a person so far, a support system and doing things for the right reasons (again remember that want versus need argument) is the only way a person will genuinely succeed.

What is her main theme?: Balancing cynicism and idealism – doing acts for the right reasons, and discovering what these reasons actually are.

...

Is this even usable for anyone but myself? Possibly not!

Still... Go write! And good luck!

[heyzagman]

SO! I’ve been thinking about how Zagreus, a literal god, trained fighter under Achilles, has to fight through each region of the underworld, powered by the Olympians and ancient Titan-slaying weapons, dying multiple times, before he is able to reach the surface. And Orpheus, dude who has never held a sword in his life, just walked right in and out with only his lyre and his falsetto. I’ve been thinking about that so here’s a fic from the prospective of Thanatos about it: 

disclaimer: I have no idea what the underworld timeline looks like so we are shooting pinball with the ages of the gods here

Thanatos was but a godling when the Orpheus debacle happened. Queen Persephone was with child, attempting to grow a new plant in the garden, when they all heard the singing. This was the first Thanatos himself had heard of it, although Mother Nyx and Lord Hades did not seem alarmed. Specifically, Mother Nyx did not look surprised, but instead, impressed. Lord Hades was enraged. He stood up dramatically, slamming his hands on his desk. Thanatos had been speaking to Mother Nyx about his future duties, the young god had recently found his calling and would soon be working among his older brother Charon and the young Olympian Hermes helping souls to their final resting home. 

Speaking of, Lord Hades was working on attempting to gain communication with the god of messengers. 

An orange orb appeared in the air, as a quick voice emerged, echoing around the house. 

“Hey there, boss, you called?”

Lord Hades’ voice bellowed, trying to be heard over the distant plucking of a lyre. “Have you yet found out who exactly has infiltrated my realm?”

“About that, you see, that’s gonna be Orpheus, son of a Muse, you know those.”

“Why is he here? How did he get so far? I can hear that obnoxious lyre from my desk.”

Hermes tsked. “Well, that’s not a question for me, boss. That’s a question for your security system.”

“My security system is in ORDER! I would have heard if he had killed even one of my wretches.”

“Guess he’s not killing them then, huh? Anyway, good luck, keep me updated, gotta dash.”

The orange orb zapped out and the presence of Olympus left the chamber. 

“Agh!” Hades pressed his fingers on his forehead. In a low voice, he called for Nyx. 

Mother Nyx carted a hand through Thanatos’s hair to calm him before she rose to speak to Lord Hades. 

Thanatos stood up and began walking towards the garden. Hypnos was standing at the doorway of the garden, peering out. 

“What are you doing?” Thanatos asked. 

“You know, just waiting for the Muse’s kid to get here.”

“He cannot. No one alive can enter the underworld, much less the House. The wretches will stop him.”

Hypnos grinned. “He’s gotten through both Elysium and Asphodel. Tartarus is probably a cakewalk, who knows when’s the last time those shades have heard music?”

“You think he is getting through just with his singing?” Thanatos looked through the doorway. Queen Persephone was no longer tending her garden. Instead, she was simply standing and looking, waiting. 

“I can tell that some of the shades out there--they’re sleeping.” Hypnos wrapped himself in his blanket. He said it nonchalantly, as if sleeping shades was a common incident when, on the contrary, it should have been impossible. 

Thanatos hovered closer to his twin, whispering harshly: “Don’t you think you should do something about that? Can’t you wake them up or something?”

Hypnos yawned. “I’m Sleep Incarnate, brother. ‘Waking up’ isn’t really my domain.”

Even if it had been, it would have been for naught. A melody erupted from the garden and the twins barely moved out of the way as all the shades in the House burst out the door in a green river of souls. The eruption, followed by a shout of anger from Lord Hades himself, was matched with the appearance of a young man, surrounded adoringly by shades, walking into the garden. 

In his short trips to and from the surface, he had heard music but nothing quite like this. This was a melody that seemed to be aimed directly to his heart, his heart, as if it was sung just for him. Hypnos beside him seemed as close to wide awake as he’d ever been, as the two godlings peered out to the garden. 

The musician, Orpheus, continued his descent through the garden. Queen Persephone held a dark purple plant to her chest and stepped aside, allowing him entry. She stood still for a moment, and then threw down her flower and ran ahead of Orpheus, past the twins, and to the desk of Lord Hades. 

As Orpheus and his parade of shades entered the House, Thanatos watched Queen Persephone take Lord Hades’ hands in hers and whisper a plea. 

The professional plucking of the lyre echoed and bounced around the chambers, drawing out shades. The House had never felt like this before, everyone kept to themselves and milled in silence. Even the announcement of the pregnancy of the Queen hadn’t held such a communicable celebration. The arrival of Orpheus drew in everyone. Thanatos could see even Sir Achilles swaying on his feet, debating to leave his post to get closer to the music. 

Mother Nyx appeared behind her sons, resting a hand on each of their heads. 

“Mother, what will happen to him?” Thanatos asked. 

“I believe the Queen is attempting to sway Lord Hades’ anger of the musician’s trespassing, my son.”

“But he must be punished,” Thanatos said, finding sorrow in his tone. 

“Yes, my child. But we do not yet know the extent of his crime. The Queen wishes for him to, at the least, be heard.”

Thanatos believed Orpheus was already, clearly, being heard. Mother Nyx remained with the twins as the scene unfolded before them. 

As bold as his actions had been and as long as his journey, Orpheus seemed nervous. He arrived before Lord Hades’ desk. The God of the Dead was standing tall, one hand curled in a large fist, slammed down on a pile of parchment-work. The other was gentle, as Queen Persephone was clutching it. 

Instead of immediately striking down, sending the man’s soul flailing hopelessly towards Tartarus, Lord Hades said: “Do tell, what has prompted you to defy my power and waltz into my home?”

Orpheus’s song stopped and Thanatos could have wept due to the sudden silence (some shades did). His hands shook as he held his lyre close. “My lord, I-I did not mean disrespect to you and your House, or-or, to the Queen. Quite simply, my muse, my love, my Eurydice, had fallen to unkindly fate which led her here. And, well, I do intend to be taking her home with me.”

Lord Hades laughed starkly at that. “Ah, I see. Not only do you break into my home but you expect to leave with another soul? A soul that rightfully belongs here? Have you any idea who you speak to?”

“Uh, I believe you are Lord Hades?”

“That--why you--”

Lord Hades paused and leaned down to the Queen Persephone, who spoke quickly and quietly. A hand rested on her stomach and the god’s expression softened. 

A heavy sigh blew around the chamber. Lord Hades sat down in his chair. The Queen found a seat as well. He said, “Well then. Go on.”

“I’m sorry, my lord?” Orpheus, as well as Thanatos, seemed surprised. 

“If your intentions are of that--of love--well, I will need you to convince me. How do I know this is not a ploy? How do I know you did not come here in malice against me and my family?”

Orpheus brought a smile to his face. “I-I see, my lord. I have a song, if you’d be willing, that will assure you my true intentions.”

Lord Hades nodded. Queen Persephone smiled and leaned forward, as if she was preparing to soak in the moment, savoring every note of the lyre and utterance of the man. 

Orpheus began to sing a love song. It began light and happy and adoring. Thanatos did not need to process the words for the feeling of it was enough to be understood. Mother Nyx gently pushed on his back and allowed them to move forward. 

Thanatos and Hypnos didn’t need more encouragement. Without much thought, the twins broke their endless hover and walked, feet on cold tile, to sit at Orpheus’s feet and listen. Amongst them were all of the shades, gathered around, emerging out of the lounge and administration chamber. Cerberus rested all three heads on the ground, puppy eyes pondering Orpheus. Achilles did not give breaking his post a second thought, and walked over to be closer, leaning with his head against the wall, closing his eyes tightly, as if trying to imagine himself somewhere different. 

The end of the song came too quickly and too sorrowfully. Contrary to the beginning, the ending was of grief and mourning, of loss and the extent one will go to lay eyes on their lover again. 

At the last note, it seemed like a spell had been broken, releasing the House from the song. Thanatos did not realize how much time had passed, but felt in renewed spirits. He wished to thank Orpheus, but instead rose again, grabbing the hand of his twin, who had curled in his quilt, yawning. 

Thanatos returned to Mother Nyx who was watching Lord Hades at his desk, wiping his eyes and furrowing his brow. Thinking of what would come next. 

But they all remembered how it went. 

Time later, the Queen left and returned, both times due to her son, Zagreus. Orpheus was back and singing once again. Zagreus found Thanatos peering over the River Styx. 

“Hey, Than!” Zagreus had just returned from another run, ransacking the underworld. Of course, Thanatos had lent a hand, but that wasn’t something that needed to be announced. It had taken Thanatos time to justify his actions. Especially before it was Zagreus’s duty to do so, back when Thanatos thought that everytime he helped, he was only assisting in Zagreus leaving him. 

“Hello, Zagreus.”

“Did you hear? I was able to lift Orpheus’s punishment, he can visit Asophel to see his muse whenever he’d like.”

“That’s great, Zag. I’m sure he appreciated that very much.”

“I sure hope so, it cost me a couple diamonds. I suppose I’ll just get more from Lernie. Actually, I came to ask, weren’t you there? When Orpheus first came through?”

“Yes, I was,” the song Orpheus had sang was a low hum in the back of his mind ever since, “but I was quite young.”

“I see. I can’t stop thinking about it, you know? Everyday or night, I nearly die trying to get out of here, and that’s with help from a lot of gods. And he just walked through. I doubt he fought.”

“No, he did not. He just sang.”

“I’ll have to give it to him. He made it look easy--the getting in part, at least,” Zagreus smiled. The song, that damn song, seemed to play louder Thanatos’s head. What were the words of it? Did it matter? Why was it louder now, but less clear?

Zagreus was talking, asking him a question: “So, do you think you would?”

“What?”

“Look back. If you had been Orpheus, would you have looked back?”

“Oh, well. I don’t know.”

“Me neither. Seems like a pretty simple task with a high reward, don’t you think?”

Thanatos nodded. Seemed so. Then again, sometimes things that seem so simple prove to be the most difficult. 

“Alright, I need to trade in some fish, thanks for the help back there?”

“Of course,” Thanatos said as he watched Zagreus trot off, waving to Achilles on the way. 

He, he thinks, understands. He knows, actually. If it was Zagreus behind him, he would have to turn back. 

He would have to know. Could he be faulted for that? 

[variousqueerthings]

thinking about these awesome tags from @catzy88​ and wanted to just speak to essentially what they talk about and one of my favourite writing choices of the show (so far, considering my predictions for what’ll happen moving forward):

and it’s Johnny’s two-steps-forward-one-step (sometimes several steps) -back journey. 

1. Introduction

there’s a few of things that happen on the show that get wrapped up in a semi-fantastical/wish-fulfilmenty way (Miguel recovering from his back injury like he does, Daniel sorting out his dealership problems with Doyona, etc.) and I’m not mad about it, it fits in with the generally optimistic tone of the show + various circumstances that surround these choices, so they’re not one-note writing decisions - 

ex. aftermath of Miguel’s surgery will continue to be explored on s4 so it’s not done and over with without consequences versus the way Daniel’s journey to Okinawa is about healing in various ways, so that deus ex machina fits in with the tone of that storyline. People’s mileage probably vary, but I think it’s all relatively well-balanced (pun not intended) with the deeper, less-easily-fixable issues and character dynamics that the show explores.

2. Johnny’s Story

If everything on this show were easy it wouldn’t be so watchable. Which is where Johnny comes in (amongst other characters, but I’m gonna focus).

in contrast Johnny’s journey for three seasons has had a lot of good intentions - help Miguel, get his life in order, forgive and forget the past, mend his relationship with Robby, be generally better to himself and others - and the majority of it’s gone pretty badly. 

I have predictions that there’ll be a flip in s4 and Daniel’s going to spiral more obviously, while Johnny’s going to be healing/functioning somewhat better. I also think it’s important to show him failing despite being in a better place than end season 2/beginning season 3. And failing again. And failing again. 

Johnny (and Daniel, but I shall focus!) doesn’t come onto this show with easily fixed issues. He’s likely been an alcoholic since he was in his 20s, he’s isolated to the extreme, he can’t hold down a job, he’s still under the thumb of his stepdad, and his relationship to Robby is non-existent at best. 

In 100 different ways he’s trapped and he’s so trapped that he can’t even envision being less trapped. Starting the dojo is a fluke, combined by meeting and saving Miguel and wanting to spite Daniel. He’s not planning on “getting better,” hell, he doesn’t even think that he has a problem that can be fixed to begin with. Up until this moment life has largely just happened to him and his decisions have been reactionary (and if there were times we don’t know about before now where he tried, he obviously failed)

His thinking clearly goes something like this: “I’ll make this kid not get beat up... and I guess now I’ve got a business so I need other kids? and now I care about this kid I guess, oh and his mom’s pretty nice (and pretty) too... and now I’ve got a business I can buy Sid out, that’s cool... ” etcetcetc. (still reactionary to an extent, although that gradually changes) right up until the tournament happens and he starts to have to face some of the shit he’s been telling these kids and Robby’s with Daniel and Kreese has reappeared...

I’d argue it’s not until mid-ish season 2, when Kreese reveals he’s homeless and Johnny decides that their forgiveness is tied into one another and especially when Tommy dies (still got one thing I don’t... time) that he actually really starts thinking about what all of this means for him longterm, that he can and should want for the future and that he has real responsibilities to do so because of others. It’s also the first time he properly admits that it’s not just “the tournament as a single event,” but the whole philosophy that he was taught that fucked him up (which is scary, because then he’s gotta admit a whole bunch of other stuff - that he has deep-rooted issues and that he needs to try to get better. That he’s both a victim and a perpetrator of this cycle. That just saying things are shit and won’t ever change won’t cut it anymore).

And just as he begins this thought-process and is incredibly vulnerable because of that everything goes to hell.

All of the structures Johnny had been building were on sand, right up to the choice to handshake deal on the dojo, and they all come crashing down spectacularly all at once in the season 2 finale.

Back to square one.

3. Square one (but not really)

This is amazing! It’s giving us a narrative on top of the more fantasy-like narratives that goes: “Not everything can be fixed easily just because we want to fix them,” and, “some things need to fail so that the next time you try, you try better!”

It’s not square one at all. 

A whole bunch of shit that Johnny was carrying with him without being able to voice in the first season is now out there, in the open. The ugliness needs to be exposed before it can be healed and (as myself and so many people who’re dealing with xy and z know) when you first “discover” what’s fucked up you can feel like everything’s worse. Your ability to deal with that thing can get a whole lot worse. 

Johnny relapses into a version of himself that on the surface looks even worse than in s1, but actually he’s way more open to change, he’s got reasons to get back up again, even if it takes a moment for him to pull himself together to actually do that. It takes pretty much all of season 3 for him to get there (and that was necessary too), but now he’s there he can start from a much stronger place than he previously did.

And there’s so much he’s still not facing - can you imagine the fallout when he has to deal with being an alcoholic? 

Johnny as a character has made so many mistakes (note: I’m not a fan of using the word “fault” as a descriptor for characters (as in “whose fault is X”) because they’re fictional and it’s more about motivations than tracing faults) and those mistakes make a whole lot of sense to his character - a broke, drunk, traumatized guy with more failings under his belt than you can count. 

I confess, I’m not sure how I feel about him not visiting Robby in juvie from a writing perspective, however it’s on the show, so now we get to analyse how it can make sense - which, considering that Johnny isn’t good at prioritising - and as an ADHD that’s a mood - it can totally work. Is it very bad? Yes. Does it sound like something Johnny would do when faced between an easy-fix of his relationship with the Diaz family and his much more difficult and complicated relationship with Robby? Sigh, yeah... unfortunately parenting Robby is the biggest fear he has... it’s not pretty, but it’s not meant to be...

4. Anyway, TL;DR 

I’d have felt cheated if Johnny could just magically “become” better - both mentally and in his relationships to others. He’s made big mistakes, has a lot of unresolved mental health issues, and - ironically - has chosen flight over fight for so much of his life that “simply wanting to become better” being  enough of a motivator to change all of that around would’ve been unrealistic for his character and unsatisfying for a longterm plot in which we see how difficult it is and (hopefully) get to revel in the continued upwards journey despite that.

Also it would’ve been kind of insulting to these journeys in real life (to do a little conflating for a moment). 

Trying to make good is admirable, but it sure isn’t easy and it won’t always work, especially if you don’t know where to even start.

The joy of his story is in seeing someone continue to try despite that.

[bootyyy-shaker9000]

Give Me A Chance

D.Danny x G-N! Reader [Oneshot]

Relationship: Pining - Romantic

Warnings: Slight Cursing, A Suggestive Joke, Fluff.

"Here ya' go, Big Mama!" Heaving five large worn-sacks of what you expected to contain Yokai goods, the three partners-in-crime grinned triumphantly. "Managed to loot them flashy broads from a few blocks down, slipped in and out no problem."

Big Mama's features gleamed in awe as she watched the rugged men stroll through her lobby, nearing towards her with her prize. "Oh, splendid! Well, I'm sure you are well aware of sorting your share."

From your positioning nearby Big Mama's grand table, you inspected them as they lugged three of the five bags of plunder onto a convenient marble surface.

Mickey bobbed his head in affirmation. "Sixty per cent on your end, Boss. Just like we promised ya'!"

"Formidable work, boys. I once again thank you for your service." The woman's gaze wandered, examining the stash as she wavered her hand over it all. "Now, I'll just have my assistant here take care of this while you fellas make yourself acquainted."

The mention of your given role had peaked your attention, giving the Mud Dogs a once over before making your way to the table. Big Mama placed a delicate hand on your shoulder, her mouth nearing towards your ear whispering: "Keep a close eye on them for me. Don't want their grubby fingers finding themselves somewhere they shouldn't."

Your eyes trailed up to Loathsome stretching out on a nearby settee with Malicious gawking at the fine art that scattered across the lobby's walls. While Dastardly - the only Mud Dog that had "conversed" with you on multiple occasions - perched his elbows on the tabletop's edge with body facing towards you, awaiting your arrival.

Your over-watch would basically be unnecessary when you already have the rat's eyes watching your every move. Not that you minded his attention (to an extent), you just had no idea what enjoyment he was getting out of it.

"Will do, Chief."

With that, Big Mama made her way out of the area with a rhythmic sway of her hips. While in turn, you stalked over to the pile of moolah you were set to examine, having to position yourself beside the dapper rat; who seemed all too eager to stay close.

"So uh," Dastardly adjusted his footing, tilting his head to get a better look at you. "How's work been holding up for ya' recently?"

You halted your inspection to take a subtle glance around, Danny taking note of it on the spot. "The coast is clear, doll, don't worry 'bout it."

He nodded reassuringly with his brow quirked before you dragged out a long inflated sigh. You flipped your back to the table, the small of your back resting on the table's edge as you mirrored the rat's laid-back stance.

"It freaking blows. Literally the most boring job known to pretty much anyone." You combed your fingers through the roots of your hair, giving your scalp a small rub in the process. "It's shocking how exhausting it is to do absolutely nothing, seriously. I'd rather be on my feet actually doing something, you know, like you guys. Being an errand boy or whatever."

"Errand boys?" An offended scoff was sent to you in return, the sound already making the corners of your lips turn up. "I'll have you know it takes a lotta skill and precision ta' do what we do half the time."

"Yeah and the other half you just spend it aimlessly goofing around."

"Meh, whatcha gonna do?"

You chuckled before lazily hoisting yourself up onto the counter, careful not to get an ass full of coins by avoiding the bags of loot. "Hey, I wasn't exactly saying it was a bad thing. It's gotta be fun at least."

With your body slumped, you held your position with your palms pressed to the marble surface. Peeking out from your downcast gaze, you caught a glimpse of Dastardly inching himself closer to your side. The left side of his hip rested on the slab as he dug his hands deep into his pockets, eyeing your form intently.

"Y'know... We could have some fun, just you and me."

Your head struck up in an instant. "Woah there, Casanova. Try to keep it in your pants, you're supposed to be a professional."

"Whaddya m-" His brows drew together in confusing before his cheeks tinted as the realisation dawned on him. "Oh! Oh, shi- no! Jeez, toots, I just meant 'fun' as in taking you outta' dinner or catch a show or somethin'."

A brazen grin made its way to his lips, his nostrils slightly flaring. "Unless that other offer is on the table then-"

"-It isn't."

"Well," Faltering only for a moment, his thin lips stretched back into a small smile but it didn't quite reach his dark eyes, "how about that date then?"

You just... Didn't understand.

"What makes you so interested in going out with me?" Your brow raised in question, tapping your index finger anxiously on the cold marble. "We've barely even talked."

Bashful, Dastardly brought a clammy hand up to rub the back of his neck, giving his tendons a slight message. "Heh, that’s kinda the reason why, toots. I can't figure you out."

The man let out a sigh before slumping back onto the edge of the table, crossing one ankle over the other as he shifted his weight.

"Usually, I can look at someone and read em on the spot, but you don't put too much of yourself out there. Every time I'm here you give me feelings I ain't totally sure on how to handle, but I sorta like it. I always wanna hang out with you and do stupid shit without the boys taggin' along, it doesn't even matter what we do!"

You winced as he got excitable the more he went on. "Danny..."

"Just hear me out, please." He set his hands out in front of him to figuratively set you on pause. "I wanna get to know ya, and a part of me thinks you wanna get to know me too. So, if you're willin', lemme take you out so we can get to know each other. Outside of all this."

Of course you wanted to get to know him. He was this mysterious guy in a striped suit that would waltz in and out of your workplace every week and actually take the time to notice you around. You couldn't help the curiosity that welled deep in your belly every time you caught him eyeing you from across the room.

You just couldn't wrap your head around the fact that he actually wanted to know who you were. Not just one of Big Mama's collaborators. Not just the associate that idled around wherever your boss lurked. Just you. You couldn't help but be fond of the man for wanting to do so.

Though you were still cautious of his intentions...

Huffing lightly, you replied. "So there are these guys that have been pestering Big Mama, right? They've been digging at her to pay up whatever expenditure she owed them, and obviously, she did. Holding up her end of the bargain as always."

"And this has somethin' to do with the date thing because...?"

"Lemme finish. But as you also know, that woman isn't one for letting someone give her such a hard time without 'semi-retaliating'..."

"I'm reckoning that's where the boys and I come in." The rat roughly adjusted the collar of his shirt, loosening the top button. "So doing this job is the only way I'm going to have a chance with you, huh?"

You couldn't help the nip of guilt that caught you. "See it as more of a test, Romeo."

Hopping off of the counter with ease, you manoeuvred yourself in front of the man, setting your hands on his lapels. You fixed his blazer with a slight pull while straightening it out in the process.

"Do this particularly important job, then I'll consider..." Your eyes reached up to meet Danny's, observing his pink-tinted features for a brief moment. "The date thing. Deal?"

Despite feeling grateful for the offer, he sounded slightly defeated. "Consider?"

Tugging gently on his lapels, you brought your mouth up to his ear, keeping your voice hushed. "It's a definite yes if you get your ass back here quick enough."

His ear flicked back as his dumbstruck eyes stared at you in what seemed to be a mixture of disbelief and excitement. Coughing out to compose himself, he turned away from your form to face the two Yokai that loitered across the room.

"Aye, boys! D'ya hear that? We got a job to do, move yer hides!" Danny ushered them to the exit with a vigorous waft of his arms, ignoring any annoyed protests.

Before leaving the building himself, the suited man pivoted on one heel to bid you a due, with a smug tip of his hat. "See you soon, sunshine."

In return, you gave a simple short wave of your hand goodbye. Though you couldn't help but reflect the flashy grin that he held onto your own features.

The realisation only just settling in, you sprung up to halt him from leaving the lobby. "Wait, Danny! I haven't even told you the job yet!"

Almost cartoonish, the Yokai poked his head back through the door way. "But I just- i just made a big deal with the leaving thing! And no- oh y'know what, I'll be back tomorrow!"

"Okay!" A hearty laugh escaped your lips as you watched him leave for the second time, leaving you desolate.

Maybe he's worth that chance.

[yeochikin]

egg tarts. | s. mingi

a/n: thank you for requesting this fic, anon! i do apologise if it is not exceeding to your expectations. but still, i hope you enjoyed this! also, this is not proofread so do excuse any mistakes in this! this is also a long read, 10k words!! so i really hope you guys will like this ✨💖

to say that today was a bad day would be an understatement yet saying that it would be the worst day of your life could be too exaggerated as well. but all you know is that you wanted to go back home and let sleep take over your exhausted body as soon as you jumped into the plush mattress of your bed, wrapped into a cocoon made with your soft blankets. all you wanted today was for everything to go smoothly like it always had been, but life managed to just laugh and add a little spice to it just to stir things up. 

you had the worst sleep last night, courtesy of your neighbour next door who somehow just decided that it was a good idea to rearrange all of their furniture in the ass crack of dawn which had caused you to not only have a little amount of sleep for the night. that wasn’t it, oh no. life would always add a few sprinkles here and there. as if having little hours of sleep, someone had bumped into you during your morning run and spilled their drink onto your pants. you would have cursed the person out but instead, you just made a run for it to run to campus.

like some type of cherry on top, your literature lecturer, professor kim, seemed to think that it was a good idea to suddenly drop a project that was due in two weeks.your professor thought that it would be a good idea to make up an entire storyline with the elements of what he had taught your class. of course it wasn’t bad but for a huge procrastinator like you? it might be a huge nightmare, considering that you had more assignments at hand from your other classes. yet, that wasn’t the core of your dread. 

professor kim just had to pair you up with one of the most obnoxious boys in your class, song mingi.

“i swear, professor kim either hates me or he just really likes to see me suffer.” you groaned into the palm of your hands, both elbows rested on top of the table you and your best friends, yeosang and wooyoung, were sitting at. yeosang could only look at you in a pitiful manner with his large hand patting the top of your head, while wooyoung cackled out next to you.

ah yes, song mingi. the boy that could come straight out of a cliche love story. The boy who was a part of the basketball team of your campus, also known as the captain of the team. the boy everyone loved yada-yada. of course you didn’t hate him, oh no. let’s just say that if mingi were to have his toe being stubbed, you would be the furniture that he stubbed against. So, no, no hard feelings at all.

okay maybe there was some sort of.. unpleasant feelings (as what you had claimed it) between the two of you. 

believe it or not, mingi and you used to be close friends during middle school and high school. you remembered the time where you would always wait for mingi during your lunch with him, knowing how he could take his time during his meals, yet you didn’t mind. sometimes, some of his friends would even join the both of you at your usual table. you would always fill the time by doing your own work or even making some random conversations with him and his friends. truly, you enjoyed spending your time with him. it was after the first half of your final year in high school, was where it started. ever since he joined the basketball team, he had gotten together with a girl that was part of the cheering team. don’t get me wrong, she was nice! everyone seemed to love her sweet nature, and she would even join you and mingi during lunchtime. surprisingly, despite being in a relationship with her, they weren’t too big on the pda. you would be lying to say that you didn’t have a small crush on a certain tall boy but as a good friend, you supported them.

it was during a couple of months before you graduated that the two of you seemed to drift apart. you had tried to contact him yet, it was either a simple one worded answer or none at all, until the two of you finally stopped contacting each other. you would even catch mingi in the hallways talking to his friends, his girlfriend at his side as usual, and tried to make a conversation. but every time you did, he looked at you with an unreadable expression, face all stoic while his friends looked at you in pity. to say you were confused, would be an understatement. it felt as if you were kept in the dark. this went on until it was finally the time where you bid goodbye to your old school and start a new page in your life, your university life.

to your surprise, the two of you had enrolled in the same university. you went to greet him one time with a huge smile on your face but.. he merely looked past you, much to your disappointment. you’ve tried to greet him a few more times after that, and still received the same reaction. like any other person who needed some closure, you had confronted mingi one time when you ran into him in the hallways of your campus to ask what happened to him, to the both of you. you had hoped you could get some valid answers from mingi, hoping that the two of you could ever reconcile once again and go back to being friends who dragged lunch time in the cafeteria.

but there was none. 

mingi merely looked down at you, some type of coldness was held in his eyes, at least from what you remember. without even a word, he walked past you as if you never even asked a question. thus, that was all it took for you to finally accept that he is no longer a part of your life anymore, making the emotions inside you to be all jumbled up, you becoming overwhelmed.

it was now that whenever you see mingi, all of those memories would come rushing back to you. the memories that only made you choke up on your tears from how easily he had thrown them out of the window, just like that. before you know it, the sadness in your chest you felt every time you saw mingi around campus somehow grew into a ball of anger. it also didn’t help due to the fact that mingi is in the same major as you, so whenever you had class with him, you made sure to sit as far away from the tall boy as possible and hopefully, not interact with him at all.

until today.

“oh come on, y/n. i’m sure it won’t be that bad.” wooyoung reassured, pulling you away from the brief time of reminiscing the past, yeosang humming in response.

“who knows? maybe the two of you could finally get that closure.” the blonde male continued.

you merely deadpanned at the two of them, “or i could be the one doing all of the work for this project.” 

wooyoung rolled his eyes at your answer before looking down at his phone. “oh crap, i should get to class, professor park would have my head if i’m late!” 

with the claim, the three of you started to gather your things. you were about to bid goodbye to the two of your bestfriends and head to your respective classes until a deep voice called out your name, your whole body feeling a flash of chills running down your spine. you knew who that voice belonged to all too well. 

before you responded to him, you gave yeosang and wooyoung a reassuring smile, watching as the two boys stared between you and mingi for a few seconds before walking off, wooyoung mouthing at you to text him when you were done.

“what is it, mingi?” you finally said, arms folded in front of your chest as you faced the tall male, feeling the growing anger just bubbling up in your chest.

said boy rubbed the back of his neck with his hand while the other one was hidden in the pocket of his pants, “so.. we got paired up for this pr-”

“ah, yes. tell me something more obvious, mingi.” you cut him. of course, you did not intend to have snapped at him but how could you not from what he did?

mingi, on the other hand, was taken aback by your sudden sassiness before exhaling through his nose, “can you just remain civil for a bit?” he grumbled, only making your eye twitch before scoffing at his words.

“me? why don’t you give that advise to yourself.” you hissed.

“fuck, y/n. i have no time for this.” mingi groaned and ran his hand through his hair.

“me too, so tell me now instead of making me late for cla-” your words died down as you felt a large hand cupping your mouth, effectively shutting you up. with eyes still glaring daggers at the said boy, you raised an eyebrow at him, mingi taking it as a cue for him to finally start talking.

“i know that you will hate working on this project with me but if we want those points we gotta work together on this or we won’t even get to continue this class.” he started, you listening to him intently though still glaring at him.

“so, what do you say about getting that project started after our classes today? in the library?” he continued, teeth sinking down against the soft muscle of his lower lip, albeit nervously. 

it took you a little while to process his words. from the months of not talking to each other and cold glares being thrown every now and then, what gave him the audacity to come up to you and ask this as if nothing ever happened? you could feel blood rushing to your face out of frustration. but, as much as you hated to admit it, he had a point. whether you like it or not, he is still your partner for this project. 

your tense shoulders relaxed ever so slightly, a hand slowly moving mingi’s hand away. with a heavy sigh leaving your lips, you nodded your head and tugged on the strap of your bag, adjusting it on your shoulder. 

“fine. in the library after classes then, don’t be late.” was the last thing you said and brushed past him, heading to your class.

as soon as you were sure that you’re out of mingi’s vision, you felt your legs give out, yet not to the extent of collapsing completely right on the floor. your breathing was ragged as you tried to calm yourself from the sudden crash of emotions hitting right then and there, a hand quickly reaching up to muffle the quiet whimpers you released, feeling the concerned eyes from the other students passing by you, hushed whispers being exchanged with their friends yet you were too overwhelmed to care. 

you don’t hate him. you never hated him. yet why did he do that? why would mingi just shut you out all of the sudden and suddenly started talking to you so casually? you don’t know. but will you ever find out the reason why he acted like he had?

finally having yourself composed, you took a deep breath before standing up, walking off to your next class with one thing left in mind as you did so.

maybe yeosang was right, maybe you’ll soon have that closure from mingi.

❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁

“are you guys up for milkshakes at the diner?” wooyoung asked, running his fingers through his now messy hair from his habit of running through them numerous times, as soon as he saw you walking out of your last class with yeosang leaning against the wall next to him.

yeosang shrugged his shoulders, “i don’t see why not. y/n?” 

you, on the other hand, was staring blankly on the floor, only looking up in shock once wooyoung slung an arm around your neck to catch your attention.

“huh? what?” 

“we asked if you were up for milkshakes later.” yeosang repeated, his brow raised from the distracted look on your face. “you good?” he asked.

“yeah, you’re kinda out of it. wait, it’s because of mingi, isn’t it? let me beat his a-” wooyoung said, rolling his sleeves before starting to walk, only to be abruptly dragged by yeosang by his collar to where you were standing.

“as much as i wanted you to do so, i don’t think it’ll solve anything, no?” you joked, an attempt to lighten up the mood with a shake of your head.

“though i’m gonna have to sit this one out, guys. mingi and i are supposed to be discussing the project today.” you continued, a small pout on your lips from not being able to hang out with the two boys.

wooyoung and yeosang looked at each other then at you, “you’re actually starting your project early at least.” yeosang said.

cue the sounds of a gentle slap on his arm from you and the sound of wooyoung’s high pitched laugh. 

❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁

your foot tapped against the floor impatiently before looking down at your phone to check your phone. you had been waiting in the library for almost two hours now so where the hell is mingi? your eyes looked around the place and saw some students popping in and out yet still no sign of a certain tall male. with a frustrated huff, you slowly gathered your things, convinced that mingi had somehow blew you off. 

just as you got up from your seat, the doors suddenly burst open, and in came a panting and not to mention, sweaty, mingi. his eyes frantically looked around the library until he finally spotted you in the corner of the library, quickly making his way towards you. upon arriving, he literally collapsed on the chair in front of you, taking deep breaths to catch his breath. raising an eyebrow at him, you were about to ask what took him so long until he raised a finger as if to give him a moment, still panting. you could only roll your eyes and decided to sit back down in your seat, waiting for him to calm down.

“sorry, i had a last minute meeting with my teammates and the coach.” mingi managed to say between his pants. for the captain of the basketball team, he sure seemed like he was struggling for air.

you waited for him to finally calm down his breathing with a finger tapped against the table, eyes looking everywhere but the male in front of you awkwardly. how could someone not be awkward with their supposedly close friend who suddenly dropped them without telling them anything, was in front of them. your nerves were getting the best of you and made you fidget in your seat, much to mingi’s attention.

“you alright there, y/n?” he asked, snapping you out of your thoughts.

‘why did you do it?’ was what you wanted to ask yet it remained stuck in your throat as your eyes were met.

you felt a huge lump threatening to form in your chest, wanting nothing but to just bombard him with questions of what had happened to make him treat you like the way he did, what did you ever do to him, or what had happened to the friendship you both built. yet, you just couldn’t ask him. no, it was more like, you weren’t ready to know the answer. not now, not when you’re letting your emotions almost get the best of you.

“y/n?” mingi called out again, a flash of concern shown in his features.

“huh? oh, yeah. definitely.” you rambled, sitting straight in your seat before clearing your throat, “should.. should we get started?” you offered, busying yourself by taking out your laptop.

mingi could only study your expression for a few seconds before nodding his head without another word before scooting a little closer so the two of you could finally start discussing about the said project, giving each other certain tasks to do. you would have to say, keeping your mind on the project you were working out seemed to be effective in taking your mind away from the gnawing thoughts in the back of your mind, yet a different type of frustration was instead being replaced, a certain feeling that students from all around the world knew all too well. everything was going smoothly, the both of you managed to discuss most parts of your project yet somehow you were stuck on how to actually start with the storyline.

“mingi, for the last time, we can’t suddenly put two of the characters in the script to suddenly start fighting right at the start.” you groaned, rubbing your face in the palm of your hands. with a roll of his eyes, said boy aggressively pressed onto the keys of your keyboard to erase the sentence he had started. 

“uh huh, you say that yet you apply that in real life.” he grumbled underneath his breath, to which made your eye twitch out of annoyance.

“i don’t do that, what are you talking ab-” you started until mingi deadpanned at you.

“when i asked you about this project? or did you hit your head on your way here that you forgot all about it?” he retorted, to which made you scoff out of disbelief.

“if you weren’t being an ass, i wouldn’t do so.” you snapped, clicking your tongue as you snatched your laptop away from him to work on your part.

“says the one who looked like they were about to bite my ass earlier.” 

a loud slap on his arm reverberated throughout the library along with mingi’s yelp that came along with your neverending bickers afterwards, only for the librarian coming up to warn the both of you to keep it down or else she will have to kick you out.

❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁

“you going back home?” mingi suddenly asked, his eyes watching you pack your things. 

the both of you decided to stop the discussion after a couple of hours, agreeing to meet back in the library the next day to finally get a work on the storyline after finally being able to write out some outlines. fixing the strap of your bag, you raised an eyebrow at him from the sudden inquiry. 

“what does it look like?” you answered, though there was a bite in your tone, mingi disregarded it.

“calm down, for fuck’s sake.” he rolled his eyes before getting up from his seat. “i just thought that i could accompany you when you head back.” he offered, much to your surprise.

“ain’t really a good idea to let you walk alone, it’s getting a little dark.” mingi continued, nodding his head towards the windows, to which made you look out.

mingi was right. the sky was turning dark, only a few traces of crimson were apparent in the darkened sky. it didn’t help with the fact that your apartment took a little while to get to by foot. turning back to look at him, you narrowed your eyes up at him.

“how do i know you are not planning to kill me?” you asked, mingi poking his tongue against the inside of his cheek, amused. 

“and what will i even do? knock you out with a basketball?” 

the response was enough to make you snort, a hand coming up to cover your lips to release a faint chortle. the corners of mingi’s lips twitched up ever so slightly from your reaction, a little familiar tug was felt in his chest. he won’t lie. he had missed seeing your smile. he had missed making you laugh. hell, who was he kidding? he missed everything about you. so why was he acting all cold to you? why was he acting like an ass whenever you tried to greet him before?

from your side of the view, you were clueless. But to mingi, somehow he was the conflicted one. he remembered the time when he was on a date with his ex girlfriend in the past. he had recalled the time whenever you and him hung out during lunchtime, he had to deal with the girl whining as to why you would be at their table right when you left the table to head to class. confused, he had explained that you had always been hanging out with him during lunch time, much to the girl’s dissatisfaction. the girl merely complained that she felt threatened, thinking that you were out to steal him away from her. 

it took mingi to put two and two together to realise the situation he was in. he needed to pick a side. It was either his… ‘sweet’ girl or you who was always there for him through thick and thin. but to a lovestruck mingi? he simply chose the girl, listening as she would insult you behind your back to mingi and how she mentioned you were only around him to date one of his friends, even to the extent of not making mingi interact with you in any way possible. hence, the dirty looks he sent you every time you tried to talk to him back then. his friends had noticed the tense atmosphere and decided to confront mingi about it, saying how she was controlling him and how he shouldn’t just drop you because of her. this only led up to a heated argument between mingi and the boys.

fast forward to being in uni, he had finally broke the relationship off with the girl, having enough of her controlling side. the male was surprised that you enrolled in the same university as him, being in the same major even. but.. he couldn’t talk to you. no, he chose not to interact with you at all. it was the guilt that was eating him alive that made him avoid you at all costs, instead, focusing on basketball with all of his practices and games to keep his mind off of you. It was his teammate and one of his close friends he made during his time here, yunho, advised mingi that he should at least give you some closure instead of letting you stay confused and wonder what you had done wrong. the amount of times he had tried to approach you, he chickened out. every time he wanted to approach you, the words were stuck in his throat. he just couldn’t face you. 

that was until, today.

“mingi?” you called out, mingi looking up at you with wide eyes. 

“yeah?”

“you ready to go?” you asked.

“oh.. oh, yeah! right, let’s go.”

with a confused gaze set on the male in front of you, you shrugged it off before walking out of the library with him.

❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁

the walk to your place was a little awkward, mingi looking around everywhere but you, and you leading the way. thankfully, the street lights and neon signs from a few shops here and there were already lit up, so the walk back wasn’t that long. however, the previous thoughts you had started to appear in your head once again, the same heaviness filling your chest. It was when you both stopped at a playground, just a little further away from your block, you called out mingi’s name softly.

you want to ask him. no, you need to.

hearing your voice, mingi turned to look at you, raising his brows as if to say you had his attention. you looked over at the swingset and pointed at it.

“can.. can we sit there for a bit? please?” you asked, mentally slapping yourself from the slight quiver in your voice as you spoke.

confusedly, mingi merely shrugged his shoulders before making his way towards the swings, sitting down on one of them, then looking up as you sat on the swing next to his. silence hung over the two of you, only the occasional squeaking from the rusty chains of the swings could be heard.

‘come on, ask him. you need that closure!’ your mind screamed, you heaving out a shaky breath.

mingi, upon hearing your sigh, furrowed his brows in confusion and concern before asking softly if you were okay, or if you were feeling faint. you slowly shook your head as if to reassure him you needed a moment, to which, mingi quietly complied. with a shut of your eyes, trying to ease the growing anxiety just bubbling up in the pit of your stomach, you took in a few deep breaths. once you were ready, you parted your lips to speak.

“i’m sorry.” 

your head snapped to the side to look at mingi with wide eyes, not expecting him to be the first to say something. the words that you at least wanted to hear from him. mingi’s gaze was set on his feet, teeth gently chewing against his lower lip. your throat felt like someone was squeezing onto it, feeling as if all of the emotions you felt from all the pent up frustrations slowly started to pour out. 

“why did you do it?” you asked, mingi’s heart aching from how shaky it was, somehow feeling how broken it was. and it was all because of him. 

it was when he finally explained everything to you that made you feel as if time had stopped. from how the girl was spreading something about you behind your back, to poisoning mingi’s love struck mind, and to the breakup they had. Your mind was all over the place the longer you listened, heart starting to beat rapidly in your chest as your breathing grew ragged, vision slowly turning red. 

so this was the reason? this was the reason why he was avoiding you ever since high school? thinking you would steal and date his friends? this was the reason that made you think that there was something wrong with you? your eyes welled up with tears of anger, laughing in disbelief before abruptly getting up from the swing to stand in front of mingi, eyes all glossed with fresh tears, along with hurt that was apparent in them.

“that’s it? you avoided me in high school and our time in uni just to believe her words?!” you whispered shakily, clenched fists at your sides. mingi looked up at you in alarm and stood up as well, he called out your name softly.

“y/n..” he started.

“no… no! mingi, did you fucking know how i felt? did you know how many nights were spent thinking that there was something wrong with me? did you even know how hurt i was for you to suddenly drop me like some type of a doll?!” you yelled, tears now cascading down your cheeks, mingi pleading for you to listen to him.

“and you even listened to someone you just met in the span of a few months? and not only that, but implying ever so slightly that i’m some type of whore just to date your friends?” you ranted.

“y/n.” mingi whispered.

“no, mingi! you even had the chance to explain it to me right AFTER you guys broke up, so why didn’t you? were your friends all in on this as well? is that why i was kept in the dark-” 

“i wanted you to hate me! i couldn't live with the fact how selfish i was for choosing her over you, so i purposely avoided you to make you hate me more. i’m guilty!” mingi yelled back, effectively cutting you off.

silence.

it felt as if everything around you was muted, mingi’s last words the only thing ringing in your ears repeatedly. said male’s breathing was ragged from the sudden outburst, his torso heaving up and down. you pinched the bridge of your nose and sank your teeth down against the plush muscle of your lower lip, before looking up at him.

“do you have any idea how fucking stupid this is?” you said, suddenly feeling too exhausted as you gathered your things, swinging your bag over your shoulder.

“y/n, you don’t have to forgive me but.. i just wanted to let you know that i missed you.” mingi responded, his hand holding onto your wrist. 

once again, you felt a fresh wave of tears flooding your vision. you wanted to say that you missed him too. you missed hanging out with him during lunch. you missed laughing at his lame jokes. you missed everything about him.

you missed song mingi.

you wanted to say those words out loud but not even a whisper could be heard. it was when you felt a large hand wiping away the lone tear rolling down your cheek managed to steal your attention away from your now jumbled up mind, looking up at mingi who was staring down at you with a hopeful look in his eyes. the two of you stared at each other, as if waiting for the other to say something. with a low sigh, you finally broke the silence.

“i missed you too, mingi but.. after all of this? i’m hurt, mingi.” you whimpered out, taking a deep breath a few times to stop yourself from breaking down once again. 

“i’m sorry, y/n. i really am.” mingi whispered, eyes casted down on the wrist in his large hand.

“i might not be able to forgive you now. but if you really do want us to start over again.. you need to prove it. mere words are not enough.” you continued as you slowly moved his hand away from your wrist.

“and how do i do that, y/n? i’ll do anything, please.” mingi asked, desperation glinted in his eyes as he tried to reach for your wrist again, to which you took a step back.

“that’s for you to find out, mingi.” checking the time on your phone, you emitted a soft sigh before sending him a faint smile.

“i’ll.. see you tomorrow.”

and with that, you turned around to leave, leaving mingi standing there alone while watching your retreating figure head off to the apartment’s direction. a wave of mixed emotions hitting you like some type of a tidal wave, coming all at once. now that you finally had closure, were you relieved? were you disappointed? you were not sure. but all you know, is that you feel as if a huge weight has been lifted off of your shoulders. 

meanwhile, a heavy sigh was heaved from mingi’s lips before he looked up at the sky, the stars hanging on the canvas of the night sky.

“i promise i won’t let you down again this time, y/n.” he whispered, staring at the sky for a little longer before turning around to leave as well.

❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁

“that’s it, i’m gonna beat his ass!” wooyoung yelled out, only to be dragged back by yeosang to make him sit back down in his seat, other hand holding onto a chicken wing he was eating. of course, you had expected his reaction after you told them what had happened yesterday.

“wooyoung, i swear, he’s just gonna step on you like some type of bug.” the blonde deadpanned, wooyoung pouting in response as he sulkily sipped on his drink.

“guys, please. i’m conflicted.” you groaned, smacking your forehead on the table, yeosang grimacing at the soft thud your forehead had made against the surface before shaking his head. 

“give it time, hm? though, valid. but who knows?” he took a bite from his chicken then continued. “maybe he really does wanna make it up to you?” 

there was a reason why you and wooyoung had called yeosang the reasonable one of the group. he was the one who kept giving some more options before wooyoung or you did anything rash out of impulse. 

“and if he’s not doing that, then i would have to talk to him.” wooyoung grumbled, teeth biting down on the straw he’s chewing. 

of course, a friend group wouldn’t be complete if the chaotic one of the group is not present. and that role would be given to wooyoung, the life of your little circle.

“speaking of the devil..” yeosang mumbled underneath his breath, eyes focused on something, or rather, someone from behind you. 

you paid no attention to it, only keeping your head on the table as you were fighting with your inner thoughts. it was only when a familiar deep voice called out your name that you immediately lifted your head to look at the owner of the voice. however, as you did so, your whole body seemed to jump in place, causing your knees to hit against the table. hard.

a string of curses flew out of your lips, hands rubbing against your poor kneecaps, much to yeosang and wooyoung’s amusement, both boys clamping their mouths shut and started to look around everywhere in the cafeteria but you as an attempt to hold in their laughter. you sent them a glare until mingi mumbled your name.

“you okay there?” he asked, eyes full of concern.

you still didn’t want to look at him, instead keeping your gaze on your knees. you swear you can feel them still throbbing from the impact. 

“what is it, mingi?” 

“can i… can i join you?” he asked out of the blue, making you look up at him in shock. it was only now that you noticed that he was holding a paper bag in his hand while the other held a duffel bag, probably filled with extra clothes for basketball practice later.

wooyoung was about to deny his request until yeosang pinched his thigh, effectively shutting the boy up. with a glare from him, wooyoung huffed underneath his breath yet he behaved, though subtly glaring up at mingi’s way. for some reason, his anger reminded you of a chihuahua.

“oh, what about your friends?” you asked, you didn't hold any malice in your tone, but you were just genuinely curious as to why he had suddenly come up. though to mingi, he flinched at your question as he rubbed the back of his neck in a sheepish manner.

“oh uh, yunho had to go for practice and i haven't exactly had lunch yet since i got out of my previous class a little later than i intended to.” he admitted, a shy smile on his lips.

 “i thought that.. i could sit with you?” he continued. you could only stare at him, losing your voice all of the sudden until yeosang cleared his throat. 

“oh, would you look at that, wooyoung. i think i heard professor park looking for us.” he declared, standing up from the table, much to wooyoung's confusion.

“what do you me-” 

“see you guys later!” yeosang waved and pulled wooyoung away from the table, his eyes catching the panicked look on your face. 

‘talk to him.’ he mouthed before walking off, wooyoung whining next to him. 

as soon as the two boys were out of your line of vision, you turned back around to finally face mingi. much to your surprise, he was already looking at you after sitting down right across from you. this certain moment right here was enough to make you feel like you were in a repeated dream, memories of you and him from back then rushing to your head. Maybe he’s just sitting here until both of you were done with the project? You weren’t sure, yet would it be selfish of you to think he would still talk to you? the both of you sat in silence until mingi’s features flickered, making it seem as if he realised something, before rummaging through the paper bag and pulled out two egg tarts.

“i remembered that you liked the tarts from that old bakery we always hung out at after school. I know that the bakery closed down and these aren’t exactly the same but i just thought that you would like them.” he explained.

at his words, you couldn’t help but smile ever so slightly, touched at his gesture before taking one of the tarts from with a quiet ‘thank you.’ again, you both sat in silence as you ate your tarts, mingi fidgeting in his seat. the awkwardness was so thick in the air that you could almost cut it with a knife. with a clear of his throat, mingi was the one who broke the silence between the two of you.

“so.. how are you?” he asked, a look of uncertainty was etched in his features as if wondering whether it was the right thing to say.

finding it endearing for some reason, you chortled lightly, “i’m.. okay, i guess? and you?” you asked with a slight tilt of your head. 

“i’m fine, good. yeah, good.” mingi rambled on, almost wanting to hide behind his tart at the little crack of his voice. 

another giggle had made its way out of your lips, hand coming up to cover them as you did so. and that was enough to have mingi relax ever so slightly in his seat, at least you are smiling. so that’s a positive thing maybe? he hoped so. he really wanted to patch things up, catch up with each other, but of course, with how he had acted towards you before? It wasn’t easy, but mingi is willing to try. so, the two of you spent the remaining free time you had, just talking about the project you were both partnered for most of the time. occasionally, the two of you would even throw in a few bickers here and there but all were lighthearted. 

it was when you looked down at your phone that you had to cut the brief hang out short, much to your silent dismay, and mingi’s. as you were gathering your things, the male called your name, making you halt in your movements. 

“is it okay if we meet in the library again? for our project, i mean.” he asked, fingers nervously tugging on the ends of his sweatshirt.

you were taken aback from the sudden question but sent him a smile, shrugging your shoulders. 

“i mean, we are partners, no? so, i don’t see why not. same time?” you agreed, watching as the corners of the boy’s lips quirked up.

“oh yeah, definitely.” 

“and don’t be late, mingi.” 

“yeah, yeah. I won’t, see you soon, y/n.”

 ❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁

it has been a little while now after that closure you both had. you expected for things to still be awkward. worst case? mingi going back to being a total asshole like before. yet from the amount of times mingi and you kept meeting up to work on your project, you felt as if the awkwardness around the both of you slowly fade away. both of you starting to open up to each other once again, sharing pieces from the past and even what happened during the time the both of you drifted apart, catching up with each other. of course, you were still hurt from the way he treated you from before but, as much you didn’t want to admit it, you still gave mingi another chance. 

even when the both of you had completed your assignment, you were surprised that he came by your table to join you, yeosang, and wooyoung every time the both of you had lunch the day after turning in your assignment to professor kim, even to the extent of bringing egg tarts whenever he came by. you were even more surprised at how wooyoung stopped wanting to beat his ass, instead, laughing his high pitched laugh at mingi’s jokes while you and yeosang would sigh at the lame joke. his friend, yunho, sometimes would join in. despite him being intimidatingly tall, he had a bright personality that reminded you of a golden retriever. before you could even realise, the days of hanging out turned into weeks, and into almost two months by now.  

more often than not, you would even tag along to watch mingi practice. despite seeming like a bouncy kid during most times, he was serious in the court. the way he dribbled the ball across the court away from the opposing players, and made a couple of three pointers easily, it was no surprise at how he was chosen as the team’s captain. whenever he was done with practice, mingi would always ask if you wanted to try playing with him. now, for one, you weren’t exactly a sporty person, so suddenly having to play with the captain of the basketball team? yeah, you would definitely have to pass. 

as usual, you were sitting at the sidelines watching the team practicing their aims and evading, along with mingi trying out new strategies with the team, you couldn’t help but to admire them. occasionally, you would catch mingi staring at you whenever your eyes landed on him after watching his other teammates play in the court, confused when he avoided your gaze as soon as you looked at his way. did you have something on your face? brushing the question away, you continued watching them. It was probably nothing.

everything seemed like a blur, and before you know it, everyone was packing up their things, giving each other words of encouragement on the way out of the court. once his teammates had left, you went up to mingi who was still standing in the middle of the court, bouncing the ball in his hand absentmindedly before getting ready to shoot it into the hoop. 

“you did well today, as usual.” your voice surprised him, missing his timing as he threw the ball, missing the hoop. with a playful scowl of his lips, mingi looked down at you.

“damn, you weren’t supposed to see that.” he complained, making you roll your eyes at him.

“just like how i wasn’t supposed to see you trip a few times today?” you retorted, smiling as mingi rubbed the back of his neck, a clear habit of his whenever he felt embarrassed.

“i thought you didn’t notice.” he chuckled, the timbre of his deep voice somehow sending a chill down your spine yet you kept your calm demeanour.

“i may not know how to play, but that doesn’t mean i don’t notice the small things, mingi.” you laughed and crossed your arms, raising a brow up at him.

mingi mimicked the expression on your face and crossed his arms, lips quirking up as if there was a lightbulb having his switch being flicked on. you knew what was coming up as a groan left your lips, shaking your head at him.

“mingi, for the last time, i don’t wanna play. I don’t even know how to pl-”

“then let me teach you how to play!” he pleaded, pulling his best puppy eyed look. did yunho teach him that?

you stared at his face for a little while, mingi about to give up before he grinned upon hearing the sigh out of defeat from you. well, what’s the harm in learning anyway. at least if you embarrassed yourself while playing, mingi would be the only one to see it. 

“okay, fine. teach me how to play, captain.” 

and with that, you spent the rest of the late afternoon just having mingi teach you the basics of how to play basketball, exchanging laughs and teasings here and there. though you still weren’t entirely a fan of the sport, you find it rather enjoyable. 

“okay, let’s play one game. winner makes the loser do anything they want.” mingi suddenly declared, balancing the ball between his side and arm. 

your mouth fell open. was he being serious right now? you barely even got the hang of all the techniques he had taught you, and suddenly he wanted to one up against him, the captain of the basketball? with a scoff, you shook your head at him.

“mingi, there’s no way i’m gonna do that.” you rejected, clicking your tongue.

“come on, y/n. i’ll go easy on you, please?” mingi whined, nudging your side, you deadpanning up at him in return.

“no.”

“please!”

“i said n-”

“i’ll buy you ice cream tomorrow after classes.” mingi offered, knowing how you had a sweet tooth.

“..fine.” you sighed out, to which made mingi cheer and took a few steps back from you with a huge grin on his face. running over to the side to pull out his phone and placing it on the bench, then running back to where he stood before.

“whoever has the most points before time’s up, wins. ready?” with a look of determination, you nodded your head.

“start!”

before you could even react, mingi ran towards your goal, causing you to squeak at his sudden moves before quickly trying to block him from getting closer. but of course, with the years of experience, and maybe due to his long legs as well, it was almost impossible. he smirked down at you once he made his first shot through your hoop, you huffing up at him. 

‘going easy, my ass.’ you groaned in your head as you narrowed your eyes up at him.

the quiet court was now filled with the sounds of mingi’s laughter mixing with your own, you yelling at him for being ‘unfair’, and the soft thudding of the ball hitting against the basketball court’s floor. this went on for quite a while until the timer in mingi’s phone went off, you two immediately halting your movements, chests heaving up and down to catch your breaths. too tired to stand, you sat down on the floor, mingi doing the same next to you. 

“looks like i won, princess.” mingi teased, earning a gentle slap on his shoulder from you. 

“oh, come on. someone who knew to actually play versus someone who never dribbled a basketball across the court? of course you would win!” you whined, glaring over at the laughing boy next to you. 

“i went easy on you, y/n. be thankful.” he defended, sticking his tongue out.

with a scoff, you turned slightly in place to face him while staying seated on the floor. “okay, okay. now what do you want?” you asked, voice sounding rather sulky.

mingi went quiet for a few seconds, teeth chewing on his lower lip as his gaze was casted down on his fingers that were fiddling with his shoelaces. your eyebrows furrowed, confused as to why he went quiet. surely it couldn’t be that hard in wanting whatever he wished for. you were about to ask whether he was alright or if he did not hear you when you asked before he suddenly turned to look at you, causing you to jump slightly in surprise.

“you owe me some egg tarts.” 

dumbfounded, you could only stare at his face, why would he want some considering he basically had been eating them every time you guys had lunch? but.. you couldn’t complain. he is the winner here, and what a winner wants is what they will get. with a nod, you mumbled out a soft ‘fine’, causing mingi to grin over at you and jump up to his feet. 

“i’ll go and take a brief shower, then we can go to the bakery i always go to!”

❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁

the sweet smell of various baked pastries filled your nose upon entering the bakery mingi led you to. the bakery wasn’t too small nor was it too big, it was just the appropriate size for people who just wanted to chill or needed to unwind after a long day with a plate of their favourite baked goods of their choice. you noticed the decor a few knick-knacks as well, probably to fill the empty spaces of the bakery. 

“oh, mingi, you are here!” an unknown voice reached into your ears, making you turn around to see a middle aged lady, maybe in her late fifties, giving mingi a hug. 

“hi grandma, i am! I guess i couldn’t resist your treats.” mingi laughed after he pulled away, a hearty laugh leaving the woman’s lips before your eyes met. 

“oh my, i take it you are a friend of mingi’s?” she asked, sending you a smile that somehow reminded you of a mother’s warm smile. not wanting to be rude, you bowed your head slightly in response.

“my name is y/n, y/n l/n. i am a friend of mingi’s indeed.”

right after your name, the middle aged woman gasped as her eyes stared up at mingi’s wide ones, much to your confusion from the sudden reaction. mingi could only purse his lips and gave her a vague gesture, the old woman forming her lips into a small ‘o’ in response. your eyebrows creased together, was there something going on? 

“my, it is nice to finally meet you, y/n.” she giggled, eyes holding a certain glint that you just couldn’t figure out. 

that was until you realised when her words finally processed in your mind. finally? what did she mean by that? you looked over to mingi, his cheeks somehow a tinted pink as his eyes were looking up at the written menu board hanging on the walls. something was going on, you just know it. 

“now, what can i do to help you, lovebugs?” ‘grandma’ had said, making her way to the cashier. 

lovebugs? before you could ask, mingi suddenly spoke up.

“the usual please, grandma.” he chuckled, albeit nervously. why was he acting so weird all of the sudden? yet, you decided to ask later and walked up to the cashier to pay for the treats until grandma tutted. 

“no, no, dear. this one is on the house. consider it as a lil present to meet the infamous y/n our mingi has always mentioned.” she chuckled, hearing mingi slapping his forehead in the background.

thanking her, the both of you made your way to a vacant table just at the back of the bakery right next to the window with some type of device in your hands to inform you when the tarts would be ready. once both you and mingi had sat down, you released a little noise out of interest that piqued mingi’s interest, wondering what had made you to do so. 

“the sky’s really pretty.” you mumbled, irises focused on the sky, mingi doing the same.

it was your favourite time of the day. the sky ranging from how the shades of crimson had mingled with the orange colours, along with a few streaks of pink here and there, looking as if someone grabbed a huge paintbrush and the sky was their canvas. it was always this time of day that made it seem like time around you had slowed down, letting you whisper your goodbye’s to the daylight before finally having to greet the night sky. 

mingi tore his gaze away from the sky to look at you, saving your awed expression in his mind. the male took the brief opportunity to admire your side profile, the familiar tug in his chest reminding him the feelings he thought were long forgotten. but how could he? 

how could he forget when you are just sitting right in front of him? how could he when you looked especially pretty when you briefly stopped in your tracks to admire the things you loved in life? how could he when you genuinely looked at ease? he could feel his heartbeat just beating so rapidly against his chest, his large hand coming up to rest on his chest. With a glance towards you again, he knew damn well what he was feeling.

mingi fell for you.

it would be a lie to say he didn’t. it would be a lie to say he didn’t develop these feelings for you when you would always have that quiet yet snarky side of you. it would be a lie to say that he didn’t purposely make mistakes in the project just so he could hear your voice explaining to him. but.. did he even have the right to do so? he had been an asshole towards you. though with the two of you finally having patched things up, he still felt the guilt gnawing at his mind every time you looked up at him with those bright eyes of yours. 

it was the sudden beeping from the device along with your voice calling his name making him just snap out of it, you looking at him, concern painted over your visage.

 “are you alright?” you softly asked.

he needed to tell you. sooner or later.

“i’m fine! just daydreaming for a bit there. i’ll go get the tarts!” 

as quickly as he stood up from his seat, mingi went off to return the device along with getting the said baked goods. 

you, on the other hand, weren’t stupid. you had noticed the gaze that landed on you while you were looking at the sky, you noticed the way he briefly placed his hand on his chest as soon as he tore his gaze away from you. with a shaky breath escaping your lips, you shut your eyes momentarily. It felt as if you were back in high school again, feeling the way your stomach flipping every now and then.

you had thought those feelings were long gone. yet, with all the lingering gazes that were exchanged between the two of you whenever your eyes met? or how you felt some sort of electricity shooting up your spine every time his arm brushed against yours when he stood next to you? but should you even tell him how you felt? no matter what the consequences will be?

your eyes looked up to the said male as he bounded over towards the both of you, a bright smile on his lips as he mentioned how good the tarts smelt, fresh out of the oven. seeing how his eyes widened ever so slightly out of excitement, you had your answer.

you needed to tell him. sooner or later. 

but for now, you needed the right timing to do so.

❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁

you laughed as mingi had told you one of his rather embarrassing moments during the first few months of becoming the captain of the basketball as you two walked side by side, mingi offering to walk you home considering the two of you lost track of time in the bakery. the crimson sky from before turned into night.you swear that you could feel the little tears just rolling down your cheeks from how much you were laughing as mingi continued on with his story.

“if only my voice didn’t crack that time, the other teammates wouldn’t even start to drag me every chance they get.” he sighed, though the corners of his lips twitching up at the sound of your laughter.

“hey, they do listen to you. your teamwork is great too! i’m sure they would be frozen in place if you kept a strong persona.” you reassured him.

suddenly halting in his steps, his eyes landed on the familiar place. the place where he finally came clean, the place where you burst into tears, the place where… he had promised to himself that he won’t let you down yet again.

turning around, you only noticed he had stopped in his tracks from the lack of presence next to you. “something wrong?” you asked.

pointing at the swingset, mingi looked over at you. “can we.. sit on the swings?” 

deja vu. only, the roles were switched.

without a word, the both of you made your way to the swings and sat down, side by side. the sounds of the creaky swings filled your ears as you slowly swung yourself, both of you growing quiet as if the words in your heads disappeared. that was, until mingi spoke up.

“you do realise that technically you still need to do what i want you to do.” mingi reminded you.

he was right. the egg tarts weren’t actually from you, it was on the house. raising a brow, looked over at mingi. 

“and what are you planning, hm? don’t tell me you want another egg tart.” you joked, an attempt to lighten the mood, mingi chuckling in return.

however, the smile on his lips disappeared as soon as it was shown. you would be lying if you said that you weren’t nervous. suddenly, mingi stood up and knelt in front of you. your eyes widened as you stared into his own intense one, gulping the huge lump forming in your throat, fingers clutching tight on the chains of the swings. 

“min-”

“i want… i want you to like me. to take responsibility for what you are making me feel.” he spoke up abruptly, effectively making you freeze in place.

silence hung over the both of you, the sounds of cars occasionally passing by filling the quietness. did.. did you hear it right? or were you just dreaming? yet, the cool breeze of the night air was enough to tell you this was very much real, you were not dreaming. you could hear the way your heart beating violently in your ears, not being able to find the words to answer him.

to mingi, your lack of response was enough to make him grow nervous. the negative thoughts started to swirl in his mind, scolding him for suddenly acting rather hasty. he was starting to feel scared. scared that you might run away, scared that he won’t be able to watch him during practice, scared that he might not be able to walk you home.

scared that he would lose you once again.

“i’m.. i’m sorry i shouldn’t have said that. you can reject me, y/n. just please.. please don’t leave me again. you can forget this ever happened. you can forget i ever said any-” he rambled.

however, your actions effectively made him stop talking. your hands cupped his cheeks before crashing your lips against his with your eyelids shut tight, couldn’t say the same for mingi though. poor boy was frozen in place. it took him awhile to process what’s happening before slowly reaching up to place his hand on the back of your nape, eyes slowly fluttering closed to reciprocate the kiss. it felt as if time had slowed down around the two of you, lips moving in sync.

both of you wished that you could have this moment forever but the need for oxygen was urgent, burning both of your lungs. slowly, the both of you pulled away, faces just centimetres apart from each other’s. no words were exchanged between the two of you, just staring at each other as mingi rubbed the pad of his thumb along the length of his cheekbone, and your own digits playing with the strands of his hair absentmindedly. clearing his throat, mingi started to speak to break the silence. 

“i guess that’s a yes then?” 

with a jovial titter, you pulled him by the collar of his shirt to place your lips on his once again, mingi happily returning it as he circled his arms around your waist, the twinkling stars on the night’s canvas along with the bright moon being the witness of the start of a new level between the both of you.

❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁

“are you fucking kidding me?” wooyoung screeched, eyes all wide at the sight of you and mingi coming to your usual table hand in hand. yeosang, who was peacefully drinking his tea, nearly did a spit take at the sight while yunho laughed at their reactions with a shake of his head before looking back at the two of you.

“i’m guessing you have something to tell us?” the other tall male asked, spinning a basketball on his index finger before swiftly catching it in his hands as wooyoung poked it.

“what else do they have to say? the answer is right there, puppy.” yeosang gestured at the your intertwined hands, not missing the fact that both of your cheeks were in a faint tint of pink.

yunho merely raised an eyebrow at the blond, amused, “for someone with a snarky attitude, you sure can’t sense someone else’s sarcasm.” 

wooyoung cackled at the way yeosang deadpanned at yunho, immediately shutting his lips at the sight of the blonde’s glare, though not without letting out a stifled laugh.

you couldn’t help but to laugh at your friends’ antics as both you and mingi sat down at the table, eyes turning into small crescents as you did so. It was when yunho had asked the two of you what exactly went down between the two of you, yeosang and wooyoung leaning in expectantly. you looked over at mingi, who was already looking at you with fondness and adoration just written all over his face, before turning back to your friends to finally tell them.

alas, the rest of the lunch time you had was filled with your friends just teasing the both of you. though you didn’t mind, you were content. 

somewhere in the back of your mind, you thanked the heavens for giving mingi and you another chance to start over. It was a rocky start, yet you didn’t drop each other right then and there. and you were glad that you didn’t.

“wanna go to grandma’s after this, y/n?” mingi whispered into your ear as your three friends bickered in the background.

“just don’t be late, hm?” you teased, making mingi roll his eyes in a playful manner before gently pinching the bridge of your nose.

“hey, don’t make us feel single, lovebirds.” wooyoung yelled.

cue a slap on his arm from you along with the round of laughter filling the air.

[omgitscharlie]

𝖉𝖔𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖆𝖓𝖈𝖊

AO3 link

ɪɴᴜʏᴀꜱʜᴀ x ᴋᴀɢᴏᴍᴇ | ᴘᴏꜱᴛ-ᴄᴀɴᴏɴ | ɴꜱꜰᴡ (ꜱᴍᴜᴛ)

summary: She'd been teasing him all day, and she knew it. Those fleeting glances and knowing smiles, it drove Inuyasha insane; not to mention she smelled sweeter, more intense. What happens when Kagome pushes Inuyasha beyond his limits? One-shot.

It had started with a simple, slow, wet kiss to the pulse point on his neck before they left the house and words that seemed to hint towards more. That alone would have been enough to have the silver-hair hanyou take control of the situation and allow them to give into their more primal desires. If it wasn't for the knowledge that Kagome had promised to do an archery lesson with Rin before her own miko training, he would have happily allowed them to be a little late. The scent of her made that even more difficult than usual, as he knew exactly why it had changed slightly - why her behaviour was much more sensual than normal. It wouldn't be wise to act upon his urges, not if she didn't want to be pupped, but, of course, his wife was making it extremely difficult to keep a level head.

He'd scolded her on the way to the village, calling her out on her intentions, "What're you playin' at?" All he got in return was a cheeky shrug, not even giving him the decency of making eye contact as she did so.

"It was just a kiss, Inuyasha - don't look into it so much," it was obvious she was trying to rile him up, and boy did she know how to do so better than anyone.

Judging by the very low, primal growl that left her husband shortly after, she knew her tactic was working, "You know exactly what you're doing, woman." The hold on her hand tightened, tempted to stop them and make her look at him, but was stopped by the sound of Gyokuto calling out and bringing attention to their presence.

"Doggy!" she shouted, having Sango turn around with little Hisui bundled up in her arms, "Hi uncle Doggy! Hi auntie 'gome!" Gyokuto repeated as she began to make a b-line towards the pair.

Inuyasha released Kagome's hand then, as reluctant as he was to do so - all he wanted to do right now was drag her back to their hut and show her who was in charge. It was only when the warmth of his hand left her that she looked up at him, only then seeing the glint of irritation and flustered need in those amber orbs of his. Satisfied with herself, she waved back to the small girl running towards them, leaving Inuyasha to bend down and pick her up. Adjusting the small girl to rest on his hip, he followed his wife towards Sango and Miroku's home.

"Gyokuto, remember what we agreed on?" the hanyou asked, immediately seeing the small girl's hands reaching upwards to the ears perched on his head. Though, when he spoke, he saw her immediately stop, pulling her hands back into her chest.

"No touching," she murmured, disappointment dripping from her tone, as high-pitched as it was, "Not unless uncle says so," she added, Inuyasha nodding in confirmation as he reached his claw-tipped finger out to push on her nose playfully.

"That's right - and I haven't had breakfast yet, so now isn't a good time," he added, the 'boop' to the nose having Gyokuto give a high-pitched giggle as she once again nodded in understanding. All the while, Kagome was standing with Sango, watching her husband interact with the child with a sense of whimsey. The way he looked holding such a small being, and acting so gentle and paternal, it had her only more needy from that morning. It seemed her husband had picked up on the spike in her scent, gaze quickly flitting towards her before narrowing his gaze.

That woman's gunna be the death of me...

Breakfast was normal enough, the four friends conversing as they typically did as they indulged in a simple meal of fish, rice and pickles. Though, it became obvious that Inuyasha's answers were more curt than usual and, when it came time for the men and women to go their separate ways, Inuyasha almost seemed desperate to get out into the fresh air. His goodbye was short and sweet, telling the girls to be careful, as he normally did out of habit.

Her smell had enveloped the whole room to him, like a heavy perfume that he couldn't shake, no matter how hard to tried to focus on something else. Not to mention her fleeting glances and teasing mannerisms that weren't obvious to anyone but him. Like how she gently dragged her finger over her collar bone as she adjusted her kosode, or stretched her head to the side enough to show her throat, only to quickly do the other side to make it less inconspicuous.

When he finally made it outside, she felt like he could finally focus on something other than her; think of something other than pinning her to the futon and fucking her until she begged him to stop.

"Inuyasha sure seems wound up today - you two have a fight?" Sango finally asked when the men were gone and out of earshot. Hisui was happily babbling to himself as Sango held him against her chest, gently rocking him and patting his back with the intent to burp him.

The sight of Sango being so domestic had been one she needed to get used to, having become accustomed to seeing her in such a fierce and formidable position and demeanor. Though, after a year of being back, Kagome realized how well being a mother suited the demon-slayer. The young miko could recall a time when Sango had mentioned she wanted a big family someday, little did either of them know it would be with Miroku.

"A fight?" the question left her slightly thoughtfully, as if she needed to actually take a moment to think about it. Lifting a finger to her lip, she tapped them softly while looking upward before answering, "Mmm, no. Not fighting." With her gaze averted upward, she couldn't see Sango's questioning look - she wasn't blind.

"Then what is it? The only time I've ever seen Inuyasha this desperate to start his day is if he's irritated," another pause was left after her final word, seeing Kagome feign innocence - if Kagome was anything, it was not a good liar, "What are you not telling me? C'mon Kagome, you can tell me." Sango had always thought of Kagome like a sister and never so much as she did since the young miko had come back. It was nice to finally have a woman who understood, not only what she had been through, but her as a person.  

How was she supposed to say this? What words were the right ones to explain what she had been doing all morning, "Uhm...I guess you could say I've been," she shrugged while speaking her next words, "Riling him up?"

It took Sango all of two seconds to understand, eyes widening before she released a very real laugh, "That poor guy," she managed to say between bouts of laughter, "That makes much more sense," she added, wiping away a tear from her eye as she finally managed to get her laughter under control.

"Does Miroku act like that - y'know, when you-"

"Kind of, but Inuaysha and Miroku are very different, especially when it comes to women. It wouldn't be fair to really compare them; however, you could say Miroku gets pretty flustered, yes," Sango then offered her friend a very wide, genuine and amused smile, "How far are you willing to push it?"

Kagome shrugged in response, a flush now on her face from both embarrassment and sharing that large fit of laughter with Sango, "As far as he'll go, to be honest. Does that make me mean?" Leave it to the ever compassionate Kagome to turn it into something she could worry over. The scoff from Sango, paired with a flippant flick of her wrist gave Kagome some reassurance.

"I wouldn't worry about him - if anything, I'm sure he's enjoying it to some extent; besides," Sango began, leaning closer to Kagome with a knowing look on her face, "You gotta keep things exciting, right?"

With wide eyes, Kagome was shocked by Sango's statement, only to have them soften and her expression change to that of playfulness, "You're husband is rubbing off on you," she stated, Sango chuckling as she leaned back, shrugging her shoulders.

"It's bound to happen, there are things Inuyasha does that have rubbed off on you, I'm sure."

"Keh, ya right!" The second the statement left her mouth, she covered it with both hands, eyes wide once again at the realization that she had just proven the demon-slayer's point. Another fit of laughter left the young mother, "It's not funny!" Kagome tried to combat, though both of them knew just how funny it truly was.

The men walked off in silence for a good while, Miroku trying his best not to probe his friend for answers to the many burning questions that arose from that morning. Staff jingling, the two walked farther into town, having offered to help the headman with gathering a list of things he needed from the market days. Inuyasha remained tense, hands shoved into his sleeves as it seemed his ears were working harder than they normally did, twitching at any and all sounds, from the laughter of villagers to a snap of a twig beneath his foot. The hanyou wasn't oblivious, feeling the tension between the two of them and knowing full well that Miroku knew something was up. A grunt left him, side-eyeing the monk before breaking the silence, "If you got somethin' to say, than say it."

As cool as ever, Miroku wasn't affected by the edged tone his friend carried within that question; instead, he didn't even look towards his counterpart as he spoke, "I'm only curious as to what has got you so pensive, Inuyasha. You've been on edge since this morning."

Inuyasha turned his gaze to the ground, growling under his breath, though it was mostly towards himself for being so predictable, "It's nothing, alright? So, just drop it." That did not help his case, Miroku only more curious now, knowing his friend much better than most.

"Does it have something to do with Lady Kagome?" Miroku couldn't help but prod, having gotten rather good at drawing at least some intimate details from the hanyou - not much, but some, "A happy wife makes a happy life, my friend. Remember that." He could only assume that this behaviour meant that himself and Kagome had found themselves in another one of their notorious arguments. Even after almost a year of marriage, it seemed their bickering never changed.

"What's that supposed to mean?!" The hanyou snapped, stopping in his tracks to make a more defensive stance towards the monk, "Yeah, it has something to do with her, but not like that! I said drop it, alright?!" The volume of his voice was high, causing Miroku to stop in his tracks as well, turning to his hanyou friend as they stood just off to the side of the main rice fields. Luckily, not another soul was around, at least not for a good distance.

"Then what is it? If she's not angry at you, then what else could it be that's making you so-" then it hit him, eyeing his friend before his lips pulled into a grin. Inuyasha's eyes widened, taking a step back from Miroku - he hated that look.

"What? Why are you looking at me like that?" Now it was Inuyasha's turn to ask the questions, it seemed.

"That little minx..." he mused before fully smiling at his friend, "She's teasing you, isn't she?" The amount of discomfort Inuyasha felt in that moment, the flush of his cheeks giving way any sort of resolve he could muster in an attempt to convey confidence. Miroku gave a slight huff of amusement, "Enjoy it my friend, only good things will come of it."

As if the conversation had never taken place, Miroku made his way towards the headman's house, leaving an extremely stunned Inuyasha behind to try and completely register what he had just experienced.

After the archery lesson with Rin, Kagome made her way to Kaede's hut, spending the rest of the day with her in training the way of the miko. Yet, Kaede immediately noticed that her young pupil was rather distracted. Perhaps not in the way that was obvious to some, but Kagome had much difficulty tapping deep enough within herself to draw out any sort of spiritual power. Kaede let it be for the day, knowing that some days would be more successful than others, and by the time the sun began to go down, she'd dismissed Kagome from her training. However, before letting her go, the old priestess made one small comment, "Goodnight, Kagome. Hopefully tomorrow your mind will be more clear than it was today." Kagome stiffened at the statement, blushing softly before giving a slight nod of apology and understanding.

Upon leaving the hut, she immediately saw Miroku and Inuyasha standing outside of it, speaking with another villager about something Kagome frankly couldn't care less about in that moment. Gaze lingered on her husband, only to have his attention be mirrored; she could see how he clenched his jaw that he hadn't forgotten about that morning. There was a hunger in his gaze that had a shiver run up her spine - and though they would be headed to Sango and Miroku's for dinner, she knew he wasn't hungry for food and neither was she.

"Oh, hello lady Kagome!" the villager spoke, bringing the young priestess out of her husband's trance to see him bowing.

Kagome returned the gesture with a small smile, "Tanaka-san, hello. Nice to see you. What are you talking about?"

"Tanaka was just talking about how one of his cows got loose and was asking if any of us had seen it," Inuyasha stated rather bluntly, hands folded in his sleeves.

"Uh, well - yes. If you see her, I'd be very grateful. This is the second time this year," Tanaka stated before Miroku placed a hand on the villager's shoulder, guiding him in the direction towards the center of the village, where Sango and Miroku's house was. It left the young couple alone for the first time since that morning.

When he knew they were out of earshot and no one else was around, his ears not picking up on any other footsteps or voices, he reached a clawed hand out to grip his wife's chin a bit more harshly than he was sure she was expecting. That theory was proven when he heard her gasp, looking up at him with slight shock, "Still planning on continuing whatever the hell it was you were doing this morning?"

Remaining in his grasp, she gave a look of that same feigned innocence for that morning. Gripping his wrist, she tilted her head down enough to nip at his thumb, "I don't know what you're talking about," she sang after releasing his thumb and seeing an ever growing desire in her husband.

His yokai was strong, potent, but flared even more so as a result of her teasing. A growl soon followed, emanating from deep in his chest, primal and filled with a heated need. His hand moved from her chin to her neck, holding her throat as he peered down at her, "You're lucky they're expecting us, or else I'd have half a mind to pull you behind a tree and take you right here..." That statement had a heat pooling between her thighs, leaning into the dominant hold on her throat, foretelling just what awaited her once they made it home for the night. The sudden spike of her scent had Inuyasha losing some of his resolve, leaning forward to capture her lips in a domineering kiss - all tongue and teeth, drinking in at least enough to tide him over until they got home.

When the kiss ended, he peered down at his wife, seeing her eyes half-lidded and seemingly in a daze. Not taking his hand from her throat, he leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers. With a soft, but very rugged tone, he planned to leave her with one statement before they carried on and made their way to dinner, "When we get home, I'm gunna ruin you. Am I clear?" Such a bold and dominant statement had Kagome releasing an involuntary whimper.

"Uh-huh..."

A smirk formed on the hanyou's face, a fang hanging over his bottom lip as he did so, "Good girl." Kagome's breath hitched in her throat at those words, never thinking that Inuyasha would be capable of being so bold, always rather subdued when it came to their intimate time beneath the sheets. Those two words had her clenching her legs together, as if to relieve some of the pressure built up between her thighs. The fact that he was doing this out in the open too, it only added another element of excitement to everything else - she must have pushed him farther than she'd anticipated.

And just like that, he pulled from her, releasing her neck and taking a half step away from her. She'd almost fallen then, suddenly void of his touch and strength to keep her from her knees buckling completely beneath her. The hanyou couldn't help but smirk, simply reaching out a hand for her to take as they finally made their way to Sango and Miroku's house.

Dinner was a little less awkward, especially since Inuyasha had let off some steam with himself and Kagome's moment before meeting up with their friends. Kagome, however, seemed to have switched places with her husband, though she was much, much better at hiding it. Both Sango and Miroku gave each other knowing looks, having an unspoken conversation between the two of them when Kagome and Inuyasha weren't looking or were too invested in their food to notice. After indulging in some rice wine after dinner, the couples finally parted ways, the friends saying a much more comfortable goodbye, even though Inuyasha was eager to take his mate home.

Preparing to walk home, Kagome took her husband's hand, only to have him crouch down to indicate for her to climb on. Doing as she was told, she climbed onto his back and, without a second of hesitation, they were off.

Touching down in front of their home, Kagome climbed from her husband's back. Walking though the entryway, she took off her shoes and left them in the dirt at the front entrance. Inuyasha stood and watched as she headed inside, preparing himself for what he had planned, for what his primal self couldn't seem to hold back for much longer.

Walking in after her, he acted as though he hadn't made the promise, the tension building exponentially the longer the two of them refused to acknowledge it. Inuyasha grabbed some wood for the fire, easily starting it and granting some light and warmth to their home. Kagome rolled out the futon and straightened out the bedding, knowing that they would probably end there at some point in the night. Neither of them said anything as they went about their typical nightly routine, Kagome even going as far as undressing to put on her sleeping yukata. All the while, she could sense a golden gaze following her every move, or at least two ears twitching to keep track of her.

As she was about to head back out to the main room, she was stopped by a flash of silver. A claw-tipped hand found its place back on her throat, but this time it forced her against a wall. Kagome had enough time to take in a deep gasp before reaching up to grip her assailant's wrist. Before she could take too many more breaths, his lips were on hers, seeming to continue the one he'd given her back in the village. It held the intent to claim and conquer, Kagome rewarding her husband with a very real whimper of need, "Inuyasha-"

She was cut off by him pulling away from her, though not moving his hand from her throat, followed by the sudden sound of cracking. Biting down on the claws of his index and middle finger, he spat them out on the ground before diving into what he'd planned. He didn't want to have to worry about being careful with her, not this time around.

Running his fingers between her thighs, he wasn't obstructed by the typical panties she still tended to wear - an old habit from her time. A smirk passed over his features, immediately greeted by the feel of her need, slick and practically dripping. Just that simple touch had her crying out in need, back arching against the wall as he began to circle her clit, "Mmm, what's this, wife? Needy are we?" he teased, finally able to get some revenge on her for tormenting him the whole day.

Kagome released another affirmative whimper, "Inuyasha, please..." she gasped before feeling him take his fingers from her, only to lick them clean with a low hum of satisfaction.

"Please what?" he asked, eyeing her as he gently squeezed on her throat, not enough to obstruct her airway, but enough to make her slightly lightheaded. With deep mahogany eyes rolling to the back of her head, she pushed her hips forward.

"I want-I need-" sentences became difficult to create, mind hazy from the lust that coated it, paired with her husband's hand on her throat.

Shaking his head, he released his hold on her, causing Kagome to take in a deep breath and release it with a slight cough. With some worry, Inuyasha leaned his head forward, resting their foreheads against one another as if to comfort her. In return, Kagome lifted her hands to his cheeks, as if to tell him she understood.

That fleeting moment of tenderness was over just as it began with Inuyasha pulling at the obi of her yukata, letting it fall open before he leaned forward to press wet, biting kisses to her neck and collarbone. Reaching below her thighs, he easily lifted her off the ground as if she were weightless, only to push her harder against the wall. Out of instinct, Kagome wrapped her arms around his neck, only to just realize that he wasn't wearing his haori or kosode. The warmth of his bare flesh almost seared her, making all of the experience just that much more intense.

"I'm gunna breed you," the low tone of her husband's voice entered her ears and sent a shiver down her spine. Before she could even get a hold of those words, he felt the wetness of his tongue lick a stripe up her throat, nipping at her jawline as he released one of her thighs. She barely noticed as he loosened his hakama, letting it fall to his mid thigh and releasing his achingly hard cock, thick and pulsing with need.

Gripping it, he pressed his head against her opening, guiding it just enough before he thrusted up and into her. It as seamless and easy, her pussy wet and waiting for him.

The sudden entry had Kagome almost scream in surprise and relief from the knowledge that she finally got what she wanted - what she had been aching for. Arching into him, Kagome let her head fall back and rest against the wall, realizing her husband was wasting no time with a slow build up. Each thrust was deep and hard, drawing deliciously desperate sounds from his wife - his mate. There were cries of euphoria, holding his name within them as he continued to pound into her, keeping her pinned against the wall.

"Inuyasha- oh, Kami, yes!" she whined, her voice sounding slightly strained before he hit a particularly sensitive spot within her, "Fuck!"

If he'd been in any other state of mind, he would have halted right then and there, having only ever heard his wife use that expletive once or twice in their time together. He tried to hit that spot again and seemed to do so, the grip of her nails digging into his shoulders giving him the indication. His head dug into the crook of her neck, allowing her to run her fingers through his hair and inch towards his ear.

Before she could grab one, the hanyou pulled his head away, glaring up at her with his teeth bared, "Don't you fuckin' dare," he warned. The viciousness behind it startled Kagome for a brief moment, though the sight of him being so dominant only brought her more excitement. Putting her hand back on his shoulder, she bit down on her lower lip, only to release another needy cry when he hit that spot within her once again.

She was careening closer and closer to the edge, a whimper leaving her before she managed to form the words, "I'm-uhn! I'm so close!" Just as she thought she would be falling over the edge, he pulled his cock from her completely, causing a desperate sob to leave her, devastated at the fact that he was just that cruel, "No! Inuyasha, please!" she begged, only to feel her being pulled from the wall and laid down on the futon, his body hovering over her.

Gripping her chin, he made sure their gazes met as he spoke, "You don't get to cum - not until I say," he snarled lowly, keeping his cock from her still - an opportunity to catch his own bearings. The last thing he wanted was to find his own climax too early, "Think of it as payback for teasing me all day."

Kagome's jaw hung open, practically writhing beneath him in protest as she tried to push her hips up against his own, "No - please. Kami, I'm so close, Inuy-aaah!" Before she could finish her sentence, he'd entered her again, moving to pin both of her hand above her head, held down by only one of his own as the other reached down to push her thigh up against her stomach in an attempt to get deeper within her.

He could see the way her body reacted to his thrusts, how her breasts bounced and her pussy clenched around him as she drew closer to her climax once again. Having seen her cum plenty of times throughout their year together, Inuyasha knew the telltale signs. She got quiet for a bit, as if her mind was trying to concentrate on nothing but the pleasure she would be feeling. When he noticed that start to happen, he pulled his cock from her once again, both of them panting heavily as Kagome gave another desperate sob, "You're cruel," she hiccupped, only to feel the crushing lips of her husband's on her own, as if trying to make her stop talking.

Ending the kiss with a bite to her lower lip, he released her wrists and straightened himself, pulling the leg he had pushed back up to rest on his shoulder. With that leverage, he could get deeper, beginning his thrusts once again, after he'd figured she'd had enough time to come down. Turning his head, he dragged his fangs over her calve, seeing her place a finger in her mouth as if to keep herself from getting too loud - as if she hadn't been practically screaming since they started.

She looked absolutely wrecked already, lips swollen and cheeks flushed; the look in her eyes made it seem like she was completely lost in their fucking. Hair was a mess, tousled over the futon and sticking to her neck as a sheet of sweat coated her body, "Fuck, Kagome" he hissed, "You're already looking wrecked." There was little fight left in her, he could tell - but he wasn't done with her yet.

The view from where she lay was enough to have her meet her end right then and there, watching as Inuyasha's strong, defined stomach and pelvis moved easily, flexing the marble-esque muscle beneath his tanned flesh. If she looked up father, the view of his amber eyes, filled with the desire to claim and ruin her as he promised, made her feel as if he were devouring her. Only she got to see him like this - no one else. Not even Kikyo got to have him like this and, deep in some miniscule part of her, she was smug about it.

Before long, he pulled from her again, having witnessed the beginning of her end once again; she felt like her heart was going to leap out of her chest or explode - one of the two - when he stopped them.

Putting her leg down, he maneuvered her so she was one her stomach, "On all fours, bitch. Time to breed you proper," he commanded, smacking the side of her ass as if to emphasize his command.

"I-I don't know if I can," it was meek whimper as she tried to bring herself onto all fours. The best she could do was bring her back half to its knees, ass up in the air; that was more than he needed. Gripping her hip, he held his cock in his free hand before guiding it back into her swollen, aching pussy. Again, he started his vicious rhythm, pulling he hips back onto him as he pounded into her again and again.

"Fuck, I'm so close," he groaned, the words slightly choked as he looked down to watch himself enter her again and again, "I'm gunna fill you until you can't hold anymore," he snarled, reaching one hand down to grip her hair at the base of her neck, only so he could bring her up onto her arms. The sounds that left her were almost incoherent, eyes rolling into the back of her head as her jaw hung open.

"Inu...yasha...please," she sounded almost defeated, "Please let me-"

The strength of his hand against her throat helped keep her up, his body leaning over hers - their height difference was enough for him to have his face hover over her own. Pressing a bruising kiss to her lips, he snarled at her, "Cum for me, wife." It was curt and simple, but it was enough to have Kagome's entire body tremor as her pussy clenched around his cock. A long, high-pitched cry, almost a scream, left her as she finally found her release.

It was only two thrusts later that the hanyou bottomed out within her, spilling his seed into her in ropes as he rested his head against the space between her shoulder blades. Deep, long groans left him, mixed with grunts and some snarls, thrusting his hips slightly before he felt himself go slightly limp.

He could hear the way she panted heavily, how her heart pounded in her chest and see just how boneless she'd become. Shivering a few times as he came down from the original wave of euphoria, he pulled from her. Rolling her onto her back, he crawled over top of her, cupping her cheek as he scanned her face. The gentle touch of her own hand on his reassured him, but he couldn't help but ask, "You okay?" Kagome could only giving him a smile and a nod in return, lung gasping for air as they both came down from their incredible highs.

Collapsing beside her, he rolled onto his back as well, trying to catch his breath, "I should tease you more often," he heard her say between heavy breaths. Turning his head towards her, he saw her do the same, their gaze meeting with a sense of electricity, even after such a vigorous fuck. A breathy laugh left him then, a sign of agreeance before he managed to grab one of her hands and press a kiss to the back of it.

"You're gunna be out of commission for a couple days, so maybe not too often," he teased, Kagome releasing a giggle of her own, breathy and tired.

"I don't think I could move, even if I wanted to," she admitted honestly, her husband getting the hint and grabbing the covers after kicking off his hakama completely.

Maneuvering them, he brought her back against his chest, spooning against her; with a gentle kiss pressed to her shoulder, he could already hear a string of faint snores coming from her, "That was fast..." he mused before smiling to himself. Resting his head against a pillow, he squeezed her close against him before finding his own path into slumber.

[divagonzo]

What exactly is being ace? I didn't understand that anon post about being just a phase

‘ello Nonnie. Thanks for the question. This is going to be rather long and in-depth so I’ll toss up a TL;DR and then answer in-depth under the cut.

TL;DR answer: Being Ace means asexual, in that a person doesn’t feel any physical sexual attraction to another person, regardless of sex, or gender presentation. Within this label are various spectrums from “Zero physical/sexual attraction to anyone, ever” to “it happened once in my life” to “I gotta know someone for years before there’s even a possibility and even then, it might not happen.”

Even then there is a whole spectrum when you add in the romantic side of things, from Aromantic to Homoromantic to Biromantic or Panromantic, etc.

They can want the snuggles, companionship, maybe some snogging going on - but going so far as to feel sexual attraction to someone else? Not happening.

All the fic of “one night stand” or “friends with benefits? Rarely with those who are Ace. Too much stands in the way of it.  Those who do are probably doing such for pleasing a partner or sharing experiences for the aftermath of cuddles and open & honest communications.

The detractors who say “it’s a phase” use it as denigration and dehumanization, saying it in a derogatory manner, infantilizing us into “we’ve not grown up enough to realize sex is the end-all/be-all of relationship dynamics” when it’s not the case. 

All of this doesn’t get into the Aromantic side of things, too. That is a whole ‘nuther nutshell.

Those who fall on the Ace spectrum might as well have an affinity for garlic bread than getting hot and sweaty with someone - or rather have garlic bread next to spagbol than think of doing The Do.

Further explanations under the cut line

It boils down to feelings - or in this case, lack of them. All the Calvin Klein models in their pants & knickers? Does nothing for those who are Ace (maybe aesthetics but not “I gotta ask to bone them immediately” rubbish. Same for seeing stuff on the screen or even in the books/fic. 

Since Ace isn’t talked about much until recently, there have been generations of people who have felt... broken.... for not feeling something others do, including acting unhealthy ways to either conform or blend in or doing it for others and letting boundaries be violated by engaging in such when it’s just not there.

Being Ace wasn’t even a remotely mainstream letter under the Queer community label until ~ 15 years ago. Sure, it’s been out there on the fringes and margins of the Community since the 70′s but it’s only been in the last 10-15 years that it’s grown into something remotely recognizable, with pride flags, social media presence, and acceptance for much of the wider global populace. Even now being Ace isn’t necessarily something of a pride aspect, since most just want to live quietly and with contentment away from sex. I’ve heard quite a few who aren’t straight get bent (or hurt, too) because a romantic partner of theirs realizes they are Ace and the one hurt can’t get past it and realize that the relationship won’t work since there is that incompatibility involved.

Just like Bi or Pan, being in a straight appearing relationship doesn’t negate who you are - just like married women are still Bi or Pan, even if married to a man.

Back when I could have used the information and not wandered for decades before finding what fits me best, I tried on so many labels. None fit.

Lesbian? Nope. Liked Guys to some extent*** (more on that later)

Bi? Possible but it didn’t fit either. 

Het? Still nope since I had some attractions to women as well. (Gramma Draig is Old and Pan wasn’t a label until decades past my wedding so it wasn’t a consideration)

Nothing fit properly until I came across early Ace discourse and said, “Hmmmm this might be a possibility” but even then it didn’t quite fit just right for me, personally. Only when I came across a subset inside the Ace spectrum - Demisexual - did I find what fits like a well-tailored suit or the perfect pair of calfskin leather gloves.

The Spouse, whom I have been with for 25+ years now? He falls on the Ace spectrum too. His was a “once in a lifetime” sort of attraction. I certainly don’t complain.

So those who see us out and about might presume we’re a het couple.... are rudely disabused since we are, for all intents, queer. 

And with his, he’s content to spend quality time together than to do anything icky sticky. And that’s fine. We have what works for us.

But anyone saying negatively that “it’s just a phase” and “You’ve not f* the right person yet” earns instant disrespect and I will gladly block them than deal with them. Ain���t no one got time for those shenanigans. I will also burn a bitch for anyone trying corrective behaviors to change someone who is Ace.

Those who wish to use abuse to make someone who is Ace conform to their belief system..... they deserve a piano dropped on their head or a millstone tied around their neck and dropped down to the Titanic to slowly dissolve.

And those who gatekeep Aces out of the community at large? They can fuck off too. (Same for those who fully adhere to lawncare behaviors - aka T/E//R/F/S & S/W/E//R/F/S.)

if you have any further questions, Nonnie, I’ll be glad to assist.

[janus-stanus]

Do you have any Janus headcanons that you want to share?? I seriously love reading peoples' headcanon

You want Janus headcanons? I’ll give you Janus headcanons. All the headcanons.

* Janus came into existence as a Side later than the others, and he wasn’t initially Deceit. More on that here and here (though I have some changes in mind for when I actually write something out of it, hehe)

* He became in charge of keeping Remus out of school things kind of by default, and from there, they bonded.

* He got into spats with Patton often, which he took way more seriously than Patton ever did. Usually everyone else sided with Patton, cause they knew and trust him. Especially Roman.

* Janus learned to fake confidence fairly early on. He figured, he had to convince himself that he knew what he was doing before the others would take him seriously. You know. “I am the first one I deceive”. That. Oh, and “Razzle Dazzle”.

* He’s planted “roots” in Thomas’s mental system, like a network of cables that can transfer information to him almost instantly. He has clusters of roots form around secrets he (or the others) is (are) keeping from Thomas. For the aesthetic, his eyes glow gold when he checks in to it, and the information rings in his ears like hissing.

* As a kid he wore a yellow shirt, with a waistcoat over it to make himself appear more professional. As a teen, he wore a long black coat, a fedora, and a striped yellow scarf. There’s more I want to say about the scarf, but, spoilers.

* ...That being said, I will spoil this from the wip where the sides all find their names: Logan helped Janus find his (ever notice that we didn’t see Logan’s reaction to Janus’s name reveal in POF? I’m running with it). He liked the name, it felt right... but it, at this point, didn’t really tell him anymore about what his purpose was supposed to be.

* It stops being a sore spot for him at a certain point, but then by the time of POF, where his failures have definitely not been getting to him, it kinda sorta is again! Hence, his... reaction, to Roman’s... reaction.

* (Also, it’s just his instinct by this point to be snide and pointedly cruel when he’s hurt or backed into a corner. He knows how to go for the jugular, and sometimes he doesn’t realize - or doesn’t care - just how deep his blows will cut.)

* Since I mentioned Jan originally not being Deceit... here’s a song that basically lays out why he came to take on that role :) (spotify recced this to me a few days ago and I’m still not over it)

* It was only once Janus became Deceit that he started gaining his snake features. First fangs; then the changes to his left eye; then his scales. Right before the other sides found out about the gay, the scales covered his whole face, and probably went below his shoulders too. It was bad. By teen times they’ve receded to mostly one side of his face, but they’re still on his neck for a few years (hence the scarf).

* Jump ahead to Thomas in early high school, and Janus, for reasons that would be Big Time Spoilers (though I may be able to... share some excerpts... if people want...), chose to cut himself and Remus off from Thomas. He keeps their existence a secret, having them only influence Thomas subconsciously, until, well, the series basically. (Virgil joined the “others” shortly after the divide, of his own choice, and thus wasn’t hidden from Thomas like the rest of them were.)

* For all those years, Janus whispered comforting lies to Thomas. Lies that stopped working after he revealed himself in CLBG, because Thomas now recognized that voice as belonging to his deceitful side. I have a wip about this that I’m planning to finish and post for his birthday!

* Janus helped Thomas believe that he was an honest person. A good person, even. Because, that’s what Thomas wanted, as evidenced by the Big Time Spoilers. Even as Janus recognized the long term impacts of the lie. Even as he himself thought the whole moral dilemma was a distraction at best.

* The more Janus dedicated himself to becoming Deceit, the more he came to rely on lies, which is a large part of why his and Virgil’s relationship collapsed. All their conversations became like, to borrow an old metaphor of mine, fencing duels, with Janus always trying to assert his control and distract from his intentions with witty remarks, and Virgil always assuming the worst of him, rapidly switching between offense and defense.

* Janus and Remus’s relationship was, and is, much less hostile. Yes, Remus gets on his nerves, literally every day... but, unlike the others when it comes to Jan, “trust” isn’t a hurdle for Remus. They’re partners in crime; they’re best friends. And that’s enough. It has to be.

* I don’t really have a better place for the following diatribe, so here we go:

Ever since the Big Time Spoilers thing, Janus has done what he can to eliminate and prevent any feelings of regret for the bad things he does. He justifies to himself that it was the best choice he could have made, that it was a necessary evil; or, he convinces himself that what he said or did wasn’t that bad, the blame is on the everyone else for reacting the way they did; or, he simply goes “oopsie, my bad, definitely won’t repeat that mistake” and does everything he can not to think about it again. To quote the song “Devil in the Details” from his playlist again, “I put my past into the ground”.

Speaking of songs, there’s this line from the song “Never Love an Anchor” by The Crane Wives, one of my favorite bands incidentally:

It's a secret I keep tucked inside my chest With this heart of mine that’s guilty not remorseful

Janus will readily admit to being guilty of having made bad decisions, decisions that hurt people (though in the moment he will be unreasonably stubborn about admitting he’s doing something wrong/stupid, to self defeating ends).

But remorseful? No, he’s never remorseful. At least, he’d like to believe he isn’t (because that would just make things so much more complicated).

And when so much of your own conception of yourself is based on lies you’ve told, to feel more confident, to feel like you belong, like you’re doing what you should be doing...

Is there really a difference?

I have No way Of telling The two Apart

Oh hey, “Devil in the Details”, what are you doing here again? It’s almost like I draw half of my entire Janus characterization from you alone /hj

* (This is a deliberate contradictory parallel to Virgil, who seems to keep a full record of every mistake Thomas has made (see ATDH). Anxiety constantly digs up your past mistakes, theoretically to make sure you don’t repeat them. What Thomas needs, as with every dilemma in this series, is a healthy balance between their two perspectives.)

* The last of the pre-canon headcanons I have is this. TL;DR, Janus helps Roman out when Thomas plays villianous roles (their cooperation could perhaps explain why Roman initially described Janus as “very nice”)

* Janus’s plan for CLBG was not to get caught; he was hoping to convince Thomas of his various merits over the course of multiple discussions, before properly revealing himself.

* When PattonJanus asks, “Virgil, it’s me. Aren’t we friends?” That’s like 10% him still trying to keep up the facade, but 90% him asking genuinely. And the fact that Virgil can’t even look at him when he answers implies that he has some doubt too... because it still might be Patton and he doesn’t want to hurt him? Or because, he knows it’s Janus, but his feelings are just that complicated?

* In between CLBG and SvS, Janus realizes the thing I pointed out earlier about his subconscious lies suddenly working not nearly as well on Thomas - specifically, the whole “good person” thing, since it’s currently causing him a lot of stress. Instead of dwelling on the fact that this has kind of undone years and years of work on his end, Janus goes, “You know what? I never believed that bullshit mattered anyway! I should convince Thomas that it doesn’t matter either; it’ll be much better for him in the long term.” And then the wedding vs callback dilemma presents the perfect opportunity. Hence, SvS, parts 1 and 2.

* Janus can read the other sides like open books... but only if they’re acting within the narrow perspective of what Janus would expect from them. The biggest example is with Roman in SvS. Janus knows that Roman wants to go to the callback more than anything. He’s Thomas’s Hopes and Dreams, for Pete’s sake! But what he doesn’t expect, is the extent to which Roman priorities Thomas being good (or believing himself to be good), even at the expense of his actual role as a side. That’s why Roman’s sentencing of Thomas throws him so badly; it’s when he realizes just how much Patton’s unopposed influence has affected Thomas (not that Patton ever meant it that way).

* My thoughts on Janus’s motivations for setting Remus loose in DWIT and his feelings on the matter afterward are covered in this fic (which you’ve commented on, but you know the hustle, gotta self promo where I can)

* So. Putting Others First. I don’t have much to add on top of the wonderful canon content it gave us. But.

“Sometimes I don't know the way. But... When I told you that, you were so scared. I couldn't bear it. So I said to myself, ‘Alright, Patton. Thomas needs you. You're responsible for his morality. You can never not have an answer for him.’

After Patton says this, the cut to Janus?

The Thing his face does after the eyebrow raise?

I live for this shit.

A while ago, my headcanon for this moment was that it was when Janus realized that Thomas wanted to be a good person, as much and as genuinely as he wanted anything else (like, being famous and fulfilling his dreams), and that, as the one who wants what Thomas wants, it’s a drive he should take into consideration. But then I rewatched CLBG, and was struck by this exchange:

[Thomas]: Why didn't I know about him until now? [Virgil]: He had you convinced you're an honest person. [Thomas]: But I... AM an honest person. [Deceit]: Oh, you are, Thomas. You are a good person. Everybody says so.

This is where some fo the earlier stuff about Janus playing into Thomas’s belief that he was a good person came from, and it required a changing of my interpretation of That Look in POF. So now? I take it as the moment Janus realizes that, when he revealed himself like a Scooby Doo villain, the effect wasn’t just that he could no longer use his comforting lies on Thomas. It put the whole responsibility of Thomas believing he’s good, something obviously very important to him, onto Patton, a side he could trust. And Janus knows what kind of toll that burden must have taken on him.

* I have plans now for a Janus & Patton fic set after the Janus & Logan one that’s been in limbo since the summer which will delve more into Janus’s vulnerabilities, going back to the whole idea of him being guilty but not feeling remorseful.

To not give away too much... Like how Logan insists he doesn’t feel things because he’s Logic, because it would get in the way of his function, Janus insists that he doesn’t have any interest in his own morality or how he’s perceived by the other sides, because it would get in the way of his ability to do what’s best for Thomas. He needs to be able to push Thomas to act in his own self-interest in all scenarios, and otherwise manipulate things behind the scenes, even when it requires being immoral. So he, Janus, can’t care about being a good person.

But Janus is a part of Thomas. And he won’t get away with hiding from the implications of that for much longer. 

He’ll have to face the mortifying ordeal of being known, and of feeling remorse.

Will this be his arc in canon? Who knows; I’m just having fun :)

...Those last two got kinda long. Sorry about that, lol. Let’s knock some final few ones out.

* Moving on, in FWSA, both Patton and Janus were watching the proceedings, with Janus contributing when called on (something he’s not used to, especially at that frequency). This leads to this post.

* Janus wants to have control, influence, some modicum of power, in any scenario he’s in. He does not like leaving things up to other people. He’s learned he can’t predict Remus and has mostly come to live with that, and he’ll ultimately bow to Thomas’s judgement if it conflicts with his own, but they are the only exceptions.

* This post.

* I don’t think about human AUs much, but, if you’ll allow me some projection: human Janus who’s nonbinary with eczema.

* An UnderTale related thought I posted months ago: A human Janus in that world would be a Determination (Red) soul, who has at times attempted and spectacularly failed at being a Patience soul. Put another way, the boy tries to plan and wait things out, but... you know.

* Lastly, he’s an enneagram type eight. Enjoy the song, and thanks for asking about my thoughts!

[polaristranslations]

Chapter 1 - The First Generation Maniwa Koumori

This is a story from when this country was a warring country, when times were troubled times.

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1

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Maniwa Koumori was the possessor of talent recognized by everybody in the Maniwa village, but regrettably, there was a flaw to his character. Greed, violence, treachery, wickedness—he had none of those things. In fact, he was the complete opposite of them.

Koumori lacked ambition.

He lacked a goal.

He had no desire to do anything.

And thus, he had no ambition to accomplish anything.

He simply did as he was told, which one could say made him a model for ninja.

He excelled, but he lacked a certain something.

He surpassed, but he lacked a kind of charm.

That was the ninja known as Maniwa Koumori.

But it wasn't that he was a man of strict morals. He was plenty flexible, he appreciated a good joke, and if you associated with him one-on-one—for example, if you worked together with him on a task—he was extremely easy to deal with.

He treated others with respect, to the point that he never asserted himself.

For the Maniwa Ninja Corps, a gathering of shinobi with strong senses of individuality, he was quite the rare existence, and on top of that, he bore the responsibility of being the core of the Maniwa village.

The only flaw being that he himself wasn't aware of that fact.

"Y'know, 'bout me,"

expressed Koumori one day to his fellow ninja.

"I feel like I'm kinda one of those underling types—like, there'd be nothin' easier for me than if someone decided for me what my goals were, or what I wanted to do in the future, everything like that. Living? Life? There's no rule that says I gotta decide all that for myself. If there's a commanding officer that can make use of my talent and my ninpou (ninja arts) better than me, then I won't go against them. Even if they can't really make use of it, I won't complain as long as they're gonna take responsibility."

Well.

This would be fine to hear from some town youth, but hearing it from one of the top ten influential people in a village of shinobi did not look very good for them. Nonetheless, Maniwa Koumori was still young, with a long life still ahead of him—so the villagers remained optimistic that he would one day become aware of his true ability as he completed his tasks.

However.

Showing no signs of reaching such awareness, Maniwa Koumori continued to live out his days—and that was when the Maniwa Ninja Corps came up with the plan to reorganize so that they would not take directions from just one chief, but appoint Twelve Chiefs to take directions from.

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"Aah, there he is—so you were in a place like this, Koumori-chan."

In a small thicket just outside of the village, Maniwa Koumori was dozing off upside-down with his legs hooked over a branch of a sturdy-looking tree when a voice called out to him. And that voice belonged to Maniwa Kyouken.

Though her appearance was that of a girl.

Her entire body was covered with tattoos.

After being called, Koumori opens his eyes ever so slightly—and in his field of vision, he sees the form of an upside-down Kyouken.

"—What is it,"

replied Koumori with a displeased tone.

Though it wasn't because he was actually displeased—he was just sleepy.

"I'm sleeping. Don't bother me right now."

"If you're gonna sleep, then sleep at home—just because your name means 'bat', it doesn't mean you have to sleep like that."

"You suuure like to complain."

Flip.

Letting go of the branch with his feet, Koumori did a half-rotation in mid-air and landed neatly on the ground.

"Everyone's all rowdy today. I can't sleep like that."

"Well, that's for sure."

Kyouken laughed wryly.

To Koumori, it didn't really seem like a laughing matter—but feelings like that weren't really her problem, and Koumori knew that very well.

"Going from one chief to Twelve Chiefs, huh—it's like, what on earth are they thinking, right? If we do that, the chain of command is gonna become a mess. Our organization will stop being an organization—there isn't gonna be order or anything."

"Organization. Order. Never thought words like those would come outta your mouth,"

said Kyouken while laughing.

"Well, I'm sure Houou-chan has his reasons."

"And you're okay with that? The whole basis of the Maniwa village is about to be toppled over, y'know? The village of the Maniwa that's stronger than anyone—"

"What's important isn't just to leave our mark, okay?"

Kyouken shrugged, though it wasn't clear if she was serious or not.

"Plus, I'm really just an advisor here—the brains of this village is all Houou-chan. Houou-chan decided this reorganization was necessary for us to survive in this warring country's troubled times—so I'm not going to oppose him."

Not to mention the dispute with the Aioi Ninja Corps is getting worse—continued Kyouken.

Tch, went Koumori under his breath.

"You shoulda said that in the first place—'sides, when they decide on the Twelve Chiefs, you'll for sure be set up as one of them, y'know? After that you won't be an advisor or anything. You won't be able to act like you're just an observer in this village after that."

"If that happens, then it happens. I'll accept my fate. ...But aren't those words something you should be hearing? Koumori-chan."

"......"

That was indeed the case.

The chain of command would become a mess and the organization would stop being an organization—but Maniwa Koumori was not so admirable to worry about such things. He was not the type to respect the idea of keeping order. He was just a shinobi that followed whatever orders he had from above. Though he had a will, he didn't have a goal—that was what Maniwa Koumori's character was.

That's why, the problem was.

If twelve people were to be appointed as chiefs, then without a doubt—Koumori would be chosen as one of them.

"Well, putting aside Houou-chan as an exception—Koumori-chan, Kuizame-chan, and then Kamakiri-chan and Umigame-chan are sure picks, I'd say. After that, I wonder who else—"

"I feel like if you're gonna be chief, you gotta have the capacity to be the chief—and I don't have that capacity. I'm the kind of guy that gets used."

"You're the only one who thinks that—everyone else is waiting for you to just grow up."

Including me, said Kyouken.

Even though her appearance looked to be far younger than Koumori, her way of speaking seemed to be far older than him.

She didn't call herself the village's observer just for show.

"Then they can give me that role after I've grown up. All of them, seriously. They keep coming at me assuming I'm definitely gonna become the chief. There's no end to them."

That's why.

There's no way he could sleep at home.

One after another, someone would keep visiting Koumori, who was a "Twelve Chiefs Candidate".

"People change when they're put in positions of power—and shinobi are no exception. Like how it's meaningless to just leave appearances behind, it's important in a way to start with appearances, y'see."

And with that, you can take on the appearance of a someone with capacity—said Kyouken, finishing her statement.

Koumori had come to the thicket to escape from the eyes of others because he'd gotten fed up, from the bottom of his heart, with the way people seemed to be blowing smoke at others, even though they surely had no ill intent. However, now that he'd been discovered by Kyouken, it seemed he'd realized this place was no longer a safe haven.

"...So?"

said Koumori.

"What do you want, Kyouken?"

"Hm?"

"Since you came looking for me and all—don'tcha want something from me?"

"Ah, nah—it's not really anything major."

You'd get in the way of a person's good sleep for something that wasn't major, was what Koumori thought, wanting to snap at her. But with Kyouken, if you snapped at every little thing she said, there'd be no end to it.

"It's just that, right now, there's a pretty interesting exhibition going on down at the square—so I came to invite you."

"An exhibition?"

"Haruzemi-chan—you know, right?"

"Ah..."

Maniwa Haruzemi.

It wasn't to the same extent as Koumori's or Kyouken's, but the name was certainly well-known in the Maniwa village. And even though it was called a village, it wasn't a particularly large village—if someone had wits or behavior that stood out, they would soon become well-known. That meant that Maniwa Haruzemi had either, or perhaps even both. He'd never met him directly before (at the very least, he'd never worked with him before—Koumori certainly never forgot a partner he'd worked together with), but he'd definitely heard of the shinobi.

If he saw his face, he'd probably remember.

"Rumor has it he's a guy with quite the lust for power."

"Yeah. That's why he's naturally aiming to be one of the Twelve Chiefs—although, as for whether he has the qualifications, to be honest, I'd say it's about fifty-fifty."

"Is there a problem with his personality?"

"'Having a problem with their personality' applies to everyone—in the first place, the Maniwa Ninja Corps is a group of people each with their own individuality, and not a group with strong camaraderie. It's fine as long as they can show results. Plus—it's just as you said earlier. People change when they're put in positions of power."

Perhaps, added Kyouken this time.

She was smirking.

As the self-proclaimed observer of the village, she surely knew more about Maniwa Haruzemi than Koumori did.

"...So? What's that Haruzemi doing in the square?"

"He's demonstrating a new ninpou,"

said Kyouken.

"In other words, showing off his accomplishments to get picked for the Twelve Chiefs. Unlike you and me, it's clear he actually wants that extra push to become one of the chiefs—"

"And, that new ninpou is that 'extra push'?"

Hmm, thought Koumori.

Koumori didn't want to be one of the Twelve Chiefs, and yet he didn't think he could refuse if told to be one, which put him in a bind. So the fact that someone actually wanted to become one of the Twelve Chiefs seemed kind of ironic to him.

He didn't suppose Haruzemi could take his place.

If he actually wanted to be one, then they should just let him, thought Koumori.

"So—what kind of ninpou is it?"

"Oho. Are you curious?"

"Don't mess with me. I'm only asking because it looked like you wanted me to ask."

"Mmm."

Kyouken made a face as if she was at a loss for words.

"Well, I guess it's a variation on the doton-no-jutsu (earth submerging technique)?"

"Doton-no-jutsu? He's going after something pretty plain, isn't he."

Although, you could say that made it practical for combat.

It seemed like it could leave a much better impression than ninpou that was overly flashy.

If that choice was planned out, then aha, he must not just be a person with a simple lust for power.

"However, you don't really need a lot of training for something like that, right? Even I can do it."

"You can pretty much do most things, though—by the way, I can't do it."

"If you would just put your mind to it, you'd be able to do it any time."

Koumori intentionally spoke as if he was insinuating something, but Kyouken responded unconcerned, continuing the conversation with an "Even so."

"I said it was a variation, right?"

"A variation, huh. I wonder what he's changing up. No matter what you say, doton-no-jutsu is just holding a bamboo tube in your mouth and hiding yourself in the ground. And then it's just a matter of how you pay attention to the presences aboveground—"

Koumori thought there wasn't any part that could be changed up.

It was a ninpou that was basically perfect, with no room for variation.

"—So yeah. You hold a bamboo tube in your mouth, right?"

"Well, of course. Although, it doesn't have to be a bamboo tube—it's just any breathing tube. Without it, you'd just suffocate. Although, you can't last a long time—at some point you'd have trouble breathing. That's more or less the doton-no-jutsu's weak point."

"So yeah,"

said Kyouken.

"The point of Haruzemi's revision is to strengthen that weak point."

"......"

"To not need a breathing tube. Moreover, to be able to stay submerged in the ground for a long time—that's the new doton-no-jutsu."

"The new—doton-no-jutsu."

"He called it the ninpou 'Moguri Sanagi (Submerged Chrysalis)', you see—"

Being told that.

Koumori wasn't sure how he responded.

Ninpou "Moguri Sanagi".

If that was possible—it would be of great use for everyone's work. But as a result, it seemed entirely too idealistic—he thought it was a ninpou that couldn't exist.

Whether it was a bamboo tube or something else, the traditional doton-no-jutsu required a breathing tube—in other words, it meant that it indicated your location submerged in the ground to those aboveground. And, though it was a technique for concealing yourself, you couldn't conceal yourself for long—however, it wasn't quite right to call that a weak point.

It wasn't a weak point, but a necessity of human physiology.

However, Haruzemi's ninpou supposedly managed to compensate for that.

"...There's no way."

That was all Maniwa Koumori could say after being told about a ninpou that couldn't possibly exist. At the very least, it would have a great effect were that ninpou to be actually performed.

"If he manages to do that—he'll be one of the Twelve Chiefs for sure."

"Indeed. I think so, too."

"But what's the logic behind it? If there's no need for a breathing tube, that means he figured out some other way of breathing—"

"Well, it's not like I can tell you even if you ask me about it. Apparently he thought of it on his own, so it's probably not something especially mysterious, but the 'Moguri Sanagi' is Haruzemi-chan's weapon for the sake of becoming one of the Twelve Chiefs. He's not going to just teach it to someone else just like that."

"Well, guess you're right."

"Also—it's not like he's succeeded yet."

Hence—the exhibition.

Koumori was convinced.

Plus, a bit of curiosity welled up within him.

"Apparently, the grubs of a cicada can live in the earth for seven years or whatever. By absorbing nutrients from the roots of plants. I think he said the logic had something to do with that."

"...Sounds like a stretch."

It was hard to believe humans could follow the same logic as cicada grubs.

Nevertheless, it wasn't like Koumori could come up with a different logical explanation for it.

"Well, it's a ninpou that's rather befitting of the name Maniwa Haruzemi—that is, if he manages to succeed."

"Yup."

"So, what about the exhibition? How's he doing it?"

"Mmm... Well, you see."

There, Kyouken tilted her head.

"It was maybe a bit misleading to call it an exhibition. After all, there's really nothing to see if he's underground—basically, he dug a hole in the square. With the help of one of his subordinates, he was able to bury himself—afterwards, it's just a matter of some genin, his subordinates included, standing guard."

"Standing guard? What for?"

"So that he doesn't secretly come aboveground or whatever."

"Ah."

"And, just like that—for now, it'll go for one week."

Saying that, Kyouken raised one finger.

"Apparently, Haruzemi himself said he'd be able to last for years at a time, just like cicada grubs, but it's not like we can wait that long for that—if we waste too much time, it won't just be the dispute with the Aioi Ninja Corps, but the troubled times themselves that are gonna end. You know, that new shogun that conquered the six daimyo? Apparently, he's been on a roll lately."

"The new shogun, huh?"

The new shogun.

In actuality, he hadn't become the shogun just yet, but there existed a military commander that called himself that. The Maniwa village was a unit of hired mercenaries that did not belong under any one influence, but on the other hand, it meant that they could take action regardless of whatever influence commanded them—and among those, Koumori couldn't help but think that the influence of the new shogun felt a bit ominous.

It was hard for Koumori to imagine someone that could unite this country at war that was disarrayed by disorder, but if someone like that did exist, it was surely a being not unlike the new shogun.

—That was.

That was, most likely—someone with the capacity to stand above others.

"...Oi, Koumori-chan. Are you listening?"

"Hm? Yeah, sorry. Um, what were we talking about?"

"Like I was saying—for now, it's one week. If he can stay hidden underground for one week—then it will be considered a success."

"Well, a success, huh? I'd say three days would be enough."

If he wanted to be extreme, he'd be fine with even one day.

After all, if a normal person tried to last that long buried underground, they would definitely pass on.

"Well—it doesn't end there, right?"

"Right. Afterwards, he has to be able to come out of the ground on his own, without any assistance—and after that, he has to correctly guess who was standing guard over him."

"......"

"It's not like the same people are going to be standing guard for the whole week. Every day, they're going to take turns standing guard—and he's going to have to guess the order correctly."

If he's unable to grasp the state of affairs aboveground while buried under the earth, then it wouldn't be much use as a ninpou—said Kyouken.

"Of course, the order gets determined after Haruzemi is buried. So there's no way anyone will have informed him beforehand."

"I see..."

It didn't seem like there was any room to cheat.

It was very thorough.

"As long as the ones standing guard aren't all his accomplices, seems like we're gonna have to recognize it as a new ninpou if he succeeds."

"There's no way they'll all be his accomplices. While there are subordinates of Haruzemi, there are also subordinates of those hostile to Haruzemi."

"Hostile?"

"Well, it might be an exaggeration to call them hostile. Maybe I should describe them as rivals? Haruzemi isn't the only one aiming to be one of the Twelve Chiefs, after all."

"Oh yeah."

"From their point of view, if Haruzemi fails here, then it'll be a good chance for them—so they'll probably cooperate for that reason."

"He's really thought it through."

However—it was quite tenacious of him.

It was surprising how far he'd go for such a thing, thought Koumori.

And, he felt just a little bit embarrassed at his own lack of enthusiasm.

It may sound nice to be able to claim that he had no lust for power, but could that actually mean that he was lacking in affection for the Maniwa village?

"Seriously—if he wants, he can just take my place."

"That's no good, either. There's no way someone can just take someone else's place—even with your ninpou, for example."

As a result of the words of the honest Koumori, Kyouken couldn't help but smile.

"So, what are you gonna do? Do you want to go and watch? I'm going to go head there right now, if you are."

"—Well."

Maniwa Koumori.

Lazily shook his head from side to side.

"Maybe if I feel like it."

And, having said that.

Koumori would ultimately not go to watch Maniwa Haruzemi's demonstration of his new ninpou, 'Moguri Sanagi', in the village square.

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2

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It was a week later when notice of Maniwa Haruzemi's death spread throughout the village. Normally, it would've been the day that the success or failure of his new ninpou was ascertained, and since it had been a ninpou that had gathered a lot of attention due to the exhibition, the reality of Haruzemi's death stretched out to the corners of the village in an instant.

Naturally, it also reached the ears of Koumori, who was dozing off in a nearby thicket as usual.

At first, Koumori thought,

"Oh."

So he failed, was what he thought.

Though he'd boldly claimed how he'd revised the doton-no-jutsu into a new ninpou, it must have still been in the experimental stage in the end. Since the plan to reorganize the Corps to have Twelve Chiefs itself was decided rather suddenly, Haruzemi must not have had enough time to test out his new ninpou. Of course, in a way, the odds had been in his favor—after all, if things always turned out as expected, there would be no need for ninja in this world.

But, as expected, one week was too long a period for a human to stay buried underground. It wasn't just a matter of breathing—there were definitely more problems than just that. In other words, it meant that Haruzemi's revision failed to resolve all those problems—that was what Koumori thought.

However.

When he heard the details, apparently, that wasn't actually the case.

Success, and failure.

The problem was something that came before that.

After the week-long period had passed and Maniwa Haruzemi had not reappeared, the genin that were standing guard had decided that he had failed, and moved to dig Haruzemi back up. While it was probably too late, perhaps they could make it in time to resuscitate him.

Just as expected.

Maniwa Haruzemi was dead.

It was death by suffocation—however, the genin discovered something from Haruzemi's body that wasn't just as expected.

On the back of Maniwa Haruzemi's neck.

They found the mark of a rope imprinted clearly on his skin.

Underground, Maniwa Haruzemi had been hanged—

And murdered.

◇　　　◇

"—What's the estimated time of death?"

Maniwa Kyouken peeked into the hole where Haruzemi had been buried—the hole in the village square that had been dug out and not refilled—as she spoke the following.

"According to the Shiryouhan (Death Healing Squad), it was five days ago. In other words, from the start of the unveiling of his new ninpou, it was about two days. For the five days after that, he was buried here as a corpse."

"I see—"

It was Koumori, standing directly behind Kyouken, who responded.

There was nobody else around.

They'd ordered everyone else to stay away.

Right now, the ones in the square were—Kyouken and Koumori, just the two of them.

"—So the genin that were standing guard were just watching over a corpse, huh. What an empty task."

"Well, it certainly is empty. Of life—"

Hup.

And with that, Kyouken dove into the hole.

It wasn't that deep a hole—but it wasn't that shallow, either. It had a depth of about one jou. For any ninja from the Maniwa village, it was a depth that they would easily be able to enter or exit from.

Kyouken lay down at the bottom of the hole.

"Hey, do you mind burying me for a bit?"

"Hm? Sure."

Being told that, Koumori went to the mound of dirt beside the hole—most likely the dirt that had been dug up—and began dropping it onto Kyouken's body, one lump at a time.

However, soon after.

"Blech, I give up,"

said Kyouken, standing up and jumping back out of the hole.

"It's no use, it's way too intense."

"Of course it is."

Koumori had a dumbfounded look on his face.

Kyouken, covered with dirt, tried to dust herself off.

"In the first place, trying to spend time underground completely cut off from the outside world is going to be pretty uncomfortable."

"Yeah. In that sense—if it had been completed, it would've made for a really useful ninpou. The ninpou 'Moguri Sanagi', that is."

"Maybe it actually had been completed?"

said Kyouken.

"Maybe that's why—he was murdered."

"......"

The fact that Maniwa Haruzemi had died.

In itself, it wasn't that much of a problem.

For shinobi, life and death weren’t that big of an issue—to them, living and dying may as well be the same thing.

Even Koumori had that level of awareness.

However—being murdered was a different matter.

"Not to mention, it's one thing if he was killed while being careless on a job—but since he was killed right in the middle of our village, that's not something we can ignore. No matter how much I pretend to be an observer—and no matter how much you pretend to be a hermit."

"I don't remember pretending to be a hermit, though,"

said Koumori.

He looked back into the hole.

"Well, the first suspects that come to mind would be those Aioi Ninja Corps that are constantly after us... But I wonder. It feels like it's fine to actually cross them off the suspect list in this case only. If they were able to infiltrate the village for this, then that would be another problem entirely."

"That's for sure. So that can't be it—the Maniwa village hasn't fallen so far that they wouldn't notice any intruders. Not to mention, Pengin-chan and the others have been setting up a barrier—"

"So that means,"

said Koumori, sounding fed up with the whole thing.

"It was someone among us that killed him, huh."

"Indeed."

There wasn't even a need to confirm it a second time.

Koumori had already realized it when he'd first heard the news, and had confirmed it today when he was called out by Kyouken.

After all, Maniwa Kyouken...

Was extremely sharp when it came to these things.

"And that's why I said we should stop this Twelve Chiefs stuff—Houou shoulda known that struggles for power'd turn into us killing each other."

"You're probably only against the Twelve Chiefs plan because you're too lazy to get your noggin running. Don't act as if you foresaw this happening—and if we're talking about Houou-chan, then I think he already took this situation into account."

"Huh?"

"Basically, it's thinning out the ranks. Uncovering the kind of immature person that would kill their comrades out of a lust for power—maybe."

"That's not really fair to the person that gets killed, is it?"

"Well, if they're going to get killed, then that makes them pretty immature, too. A person that gets betrayed lacks the disposition to lead others."

Being respected is a talent in itself.

That was what Kyouken said.

"In that sense, you're completely equipped to have the capacity for leadership—Koumori-chan."

"I dunno about that. Who knows when someone'll take me out some day."

"I'm saying you have enough talent to not be taken out."

"Oh."

He nods noncommittally.

There wasn't really any point to arguing against it.

"But thinking about it that way... Hmm. For Haruzemi, it wasn't completely certain whether or not he'd become one of the Twelve Chiefs, right? If this was a murder due to a struggle for power, then they shoulda aimed for me or you. Then that would've opened up a seat for sure."

"Like I'm saying—the culprit didn't have the confidence to take one of us out,"

said Kyouken with a smirk.

"That's why—I can see why they'd make the choice to take out Haruzemi-chan, who was aiming for a spot as one of the Twelve Chiefs by demonstrating his new ninpou. It's certainly one type of strategy to ignore the ones that are sure to be elected and enter into a mudslinging match with other candidates instead."

"Even so, killing is kinda going too far, I'd say. They coulda just gotten in the way of him demonstrating the ninpou instead."

"That's—that's true."

There was no need to actually kill him.

Of course, killing him was the easiest way to handle it—but killing your comrades wasn't exactly a common affair.

"Why—why did they kill him? Actually..."

Koumori.

Spun around, taking a look at his surroundings—and then spoke.

"How did they kill him?"

"......"

Naturally, Kyouken had no response.

She couldn't respond.

Indeed—the problem here was not why Haruzemi was killed, but how he was killed.

The ninja hidden in the earth.

Who could've been the one to kill him, and how?

"Especially if it was strangulation—it would be a lot easier to figure out if he'd been stabbed from aboveground with a spear or something. Although, that would be impossible because of the ones standing guard—"

"Incidentally, did anyone find the rope that was used as the murder weapon?"

"Nope."

Kyouken shook her head.

"Unfortunately not. It would probably just be a normal rope, after all—like you said, it would be one thing if it was a spear, but there are any number of ways to get rid of a rope like this. I think it'll be impossible to tie down the culprit from that direction."

"I see... A way to strangle someone who's underground, huh. Well, it may be a bit anomalous, but..."

Koumori seemed a little embarrassed at his own words, but he continued.

"It's basically a locked-room murder."

"......Yeah."

Kyouken nodded and clapped her hands together.

"That's true. It's certainly a locked room. It can't get any more locked off than this."

Though whether it was a "lock" or not was pretty dodgy, continued Kyouken.

"However, isn't the usual premise of a locked-room murder to try and convince people that it was a suicide? But if they went and strangled him, then there's no way it's a suicide here."

"I just said it because I felt like I had to say it. You don't need to take me so seriously—well, putting aside what the motive could be, I don't have any idea what the method could be at all. Since, even if it's a locked room, it's not like there was an actual lock or key."

"Yep, it's a little too physical for that."

"...This is just for example's sake, but..."

Koumori lowered his voice, and then continued.

"Is it possible for the guys standing guard to have lied?"

"Hm?"

"Basically—it's only thanks to their testimony that we know that Haruzemi was buried for that entire week, right? But... um... was it two days? The people on watch around that time could have lied—"

No, wait.

If they were going to go as far as lie.

If that was going to be assumed—

"—isn't it possible that they're the culprits?"

"......"

Kyouken suddenly put on a serious expression.

It was an uncommon sight for her.

No—this was her natural expression, thought Koumori.

After all, even though she pretended to be just an observer.

She was someone that stayed at the center of the village more than anyone—and surely, even if the number of chiefs were to increase to twelve, that wouldn't change.

"Basically,"

said Koumori.

"Maybe at night, when everyone left but the ones standing guard, they dug out Haruzemi from underground—and strangled him to death. No matter how good of a ninja Haruzemi was, well, he'd probably get killed if he faced all the ones standing guard at once. And, after he was killed, they put him back into the ground just as before. Then they'd just have to nonchalantly keep standing guard—and, when it became time, they could nonchalantly call the next group of guards."

"There's no way."

In an instant.

Maniwa Kyouken denied Koumori's theory.

"I said this before, didn't I? There was no room for the guards to conspire with each other. If that had been possible, then the whole demonstration of the new ninpou would have been pointless."

"Ah—that's right, isn't it."

Those that were for Haruzemi, and those that were against.

The guards had been woven together with people from both sides.

"Well, just in case, I did hear the stories of the genin that were on guard during the estimated time of death—but I don't think they're going to be of any use."

"There were a few people that could use the ninpou of truth detection, right? Although, I guess they're pretty popular, so they're more often than not outside the village—"

"Lucky, one of them was still in the village and said they would help us out. But without even needing to look into it, all the guards are innocent. As far as I can see."

"—Well, if you're saying that as the observer, then I suppose it's gotta be true—"

However.

In that case, the crime couldn't have been committed.

"Having said that, we shouldn't just use truth detection willy-nilly on just anyone. It sucks that we carelessly got the estimate for the time of death, though—if it wasn't for that, we could just end the case by saying, 'one of the guards secretly strangled him while they were digging him up'."

"Seems like it would be pretty difficult to secretly strangle someone with a village full of ninja watching, even if they were all genin."

"Incidentally, about this case—has Houou said anything?"

"Not really. He hasn't even told us to go look for the culprit."

I'm just doing this on my own volition—said Kyouken.

That was about what Koumori had expected, so he said nothing and nodded.

"What if, when he was being buried..."

Koumori began to describe what had just come to mind.

Even though it was a theory that he knew from the beginning was wrong.

"Someone wrapped a long rope around him. So that the ends of the rope were still left aboveground. Then, it's just a matter of pulling those ends—and that would strangle him. And after checking that Haruzemi was dead, they could just pull the rope from just one end—then only the rope itself would get pulled out from underground. Leaving just Haruzemi's strangled corpse in the ground..."

After all that, he said,

"How about that?"

and waited for Kyouken's response.

"It's impossible."

Again, in an instant, Kyouken denied it.

"There are way too many parts of that that are impossible. You probably already realized it yourself, so I won't pick it apart bit by bit. In the first place... The whole point of the ninpou 'Moguri Sanagi' was to not leave any traces of it aboveground. If there was a rope coming out from underground, someone would have noticed."

"Hmm. Well, that's true."

"It might not be good to say this, but..."

Kyouken began speaking with a rather desolate tone of voice.

"This might be a case of, 'the nail that sticks out gets hammered down'. It was pretty ostentatious, this demonstration of his—and it wasn't exactly ninja-like, so to speak."

"...Is that so?"

"Well, it's a bit late now, and I'm not saying this because I find it amusing—but for example, I'm familiar with your ninpou. And you're familiar with my ninpou. But that's only because we've managed to see through each other's ninpou—it's not like we taught each other about ours in detail. That's fine. That's what ninja are all about, and that's what ninpou are all about—they aren't something that should expressly be taught. Ninpou aren't something to be taught, but something to be learned."

But then, said Kyouken.

"No matter how much he wanted to be part of the Twelve Chiefs—if he didn't try to teach everyone in the village so ostentatiously—"

"That's why he died like this?"

said Koumori, finishing Kyouken's thought.

"Well, yeah, Haruzemi had his own problems. Even so, that doesn't mean he shoulda been killed. To kill one of your own—that's a disgrace to ninja."

Although it’s true that we aren't really a group with a sense of camaraderie, Koumori said as if spitting out the words.

At this point, finally.

Koumori became aware that his feelings had been extremely hurt because of this incident.

He wondered why.

It wasn't like he'd worked together with Haruzemi before.

Was it because Haruzemi had had a sense of enthusiasm—that he himself didn't have?

A lust for power.

In other words, ambition.

Though the problem was he had too much of it—

However, not having enough of it could also be considered a problem.

To be honest, Koumori had already gotten prepared for the idea of himself becoming one of the Twelve Chiefs. This wasn't him getting conceited or presumptuous, but a composed decision that it was sure to happen.

He didn't have any other choice.

If this was his destiny, then he'd follow it.

But he felt pity for the subordinates who would have to work under a person with no urges like him. At the very least, Koumori could never show off the workings of his ninpou for the sake of getting ahead in life—and then.

Suddenly, Koumori hit upon an idea.

"...Hey, Kyouken."

"Hm?"

"What about you? For whatever reason—would you ever show off your ninpou, your precious ninpou to everyone else?"

"No... That's kind of..."

After thinking about it, Kyouken responded like so.

"I've never thought about doing that, though."

"Just for instance—let's say you weren't in the position of advisor, nor were you a candidate to be one of the Twelve Chiefs... And let's say you would be promised a position if you decided to demonstrate your ninpou. Would you still do it?"

"...Well, if I was actually placed in that situation, then maybe my opinion would change."

After thinking about it—and after saying that as a preface, Kyouken responded like so.

"But... No, I don't think I would. I don't think ninpou should be used for that purpose."

"Yeah."

Koumori nodded.

"I—think the same way."

"...But, that could just be my and your way of thinking—if Haruzemi-chan thought differently, then that could just be chalked up to our individual differences, right? It's just a difference in our principles. Though it's as a result that he became the nail that stuck out, though—"

"No."

Koumori interrupted Kyouken's words.

"I think I got it—I think I figured out why Haruzemi did something like that. Or should I say, I was only able to figure it out because it was me. Because my way of thinking was the exact opposite of Haruzemi's—"

"......?"

"So, Kyouken."

Now, Koumori was the one to jump into the hole.

And, from there, he looked up at Kyouken—

"I think I figured out how Haruzemi was killed,"

he continued.

"Eh? You figured it out?"

To the astonished Kyouken, Koumori said, "Though I only think I figured it out."

"Besides, the only thing I think I figured out was the method behind the crime—well, I guess maybe I might have figured out the motive, t too. However, I dunno who the culprit is specifically."

"......"

"But I should be able to narrow it down—it's definitely a crime done by one of us. It wasn't the Aioi Ninja Corps or some other powerful shinobi group... At least, I hope."

"That doesn't sound very dependable after all that."

Kyouken could only smile wryly.

To Koumori, who was in the hole.

"However, if you've figured out that much, then that should be enough—Maniwa Koumori. Koumori-chan. That's why you—are one of the Twelve Chiefs."

"It hasn't been decided yet, y'know."

After saying that, irritated...

Koumori closed his eyes and deliberated for a moment.

And, as if he finally hit upon something—

"How's Haruzemi's body being dealt with right now?"

he asked Kyouken from within the hole.

"Let's see—well, we couldn't just leave it alone. Following the usual process, I'd say he was buried."

"Hm."

Koumori nodded exaggeratedly.

"Then—shall we go with that plan of attack?"

◇　　　◇

3

◇　　　◇

It had been yet another week before the news that Maniwa Haruzemi had returned from the dead had propagated throughout the Maniwa village. It seemed almost like a joke, the way he casually greeted the gatekeeper and entered the village, as if he had just come back from shopping.

When pressed for an explanation, he simply said without diffidence,

"It's nothing, this was what the ninpou 'Moguri Sanagi' was all about,"

as a response.

Everyone was struck with admiration and bewilderment at that response, but he said, "I'll explain it, so gather everybody," and headed to the village square—yes, the very same square where Haruzemi should have died while demonstrating his new ninpou.

There, he explained it like so.

"Basically, the ninpou 'Moguri Sanagi' is a technique where you die while staying alive. Some people thought it was a breathing technique that manipulated the respiratory organs, but in actuality, it's a method to manipulate your life force. To make a long story short, I put myself in a state of suspended animation, and limited my biological responses like breathing to the bare minimum—that way, it's possible to survive even underground. Well, it was a pretty grueling task to make out what was going on aboveground while in a state of suspended animation, but that's where I can show off the fruits of my training."

"B-but, wait, Haruzemi-dono."

One of the ninja—one of the genin that had stood guard while Haruzemi was underground—hesitatingly interjected into Haruzemi's words.

"When we dug you up, Haruzemi-dono—you had absolutely for sure been dead."

"That's right. Otherwise, the 'Moguri Sanagi' wouldn't have worked. There are several ninpou that can put you in suspended animation, but those ninpou put you at half alive and half dead at best, about fifty-fifty. However, the ninpou 'Moguri Sanagi' puts you at nine-tenths dead, and the remaining tenth alive. ...Of course, I was still alive in the end, and while I was maintaining my consciousness I got to enjoy the confusion from you fellows."

"N-no way—"

The genin wheezed.

"Haruzemi-dono, wasn't the plan for you to dig yourself out of the earth?"

"It wouldn't be any fun that way. I wanted to put on a little show—however, I figured at least one person would realize, so I maintained my state of suspended animation, but I was shocked that even the members of the Shiryouhan concluded that I was actually dead. What a great lineup of doctors we have, here. If any of you get hurt, you should be careful if you go see them."

"W-well then."

Not knowing when to give up, the genin continued.

"What about—the mark of a rope that was found on the back of your neck?"

"That was a part of the show I was putting on. I can't reveal that person's name now, but the truth is, I revealed what I was plotting to a single one among you fellows. My request was, as my body was being dug up, so that nobody would notice—for them to strangle my neck and leave a mark."

"......!"

This put everyone present at a loss for words, all of them exchanging glances with one another.

However, they couldn't figure out who it could have been.

It had been a week ago.

"The marks made on a living body and the marks made on a dead body are different—but in my case, I was still living while dead, and still dead while living. It was a rather simple matter to disguise at what point in time the traces of the rope were actually left. In fact, that's the true essence of the ninpou 'Moguri Sanagi'."

Haruzemi spoke eloquently.

"Although, I never thought you would bury me just like that, but that in itself was rather entertaining. I thought I would try spending another week or so while dead. If I was dead, I figured I might be able to hear your true thoughts regarding me."

And then.

Then, Maniwa Haruzemi made a joke that was quite unlike something that Maniwa Haruzemi would do.

"Oh my, what's the matter? You fellows, you all look like you've seen a ghost."

—In any case.

Maniwa Haruzemi's demonstration of his ninpou had ended up in such a state—so it was just a matter of time before he was recommended to be one of the Twelve Chiefs. Despite him treating the concept of life as his plaything, in the end, it was only his life that he treated as his plaything, so there was no room to complain.

Under those circumstances.

After Maniwa Houou, Maniwa Koumori, Maniwa Kyouken, Maniwa Kuizame, Maniwa Kamakiri, and Maniwa Umigame, as the seventh person to be named as a candidate for one of the Twelve Chiefs, Maniwa Haruzemi's name propagated throughout the village, stronger than ever—

◇　　　◇

"Oi... What are you getting at, Haruzemi."

Just like that.

That night, Maniwa Koumori was called out to from behind.

They were at the village square.

A hole had already been dug into the ground.

It was late—a dark night with no moon.

In order to lure his prey out, Koumori had spent the whole night at the square—but he was relieved that someone had called out to him, the form he'd taken, earlier than expected, and casually turned around.

Standing there was a young man that he remembered.

He'd worked with him before.

His name—if he remembered correctly—was Maniwa Matsuzemi.

"Oi, say something, will you? What are you getting at that you'd tell such a huge lie? Are you trying to cover for me? If so, that must mean you're looking down on me, huh. Or, is there something else that you're plotting?"

"......"

"Oi! Haruzemi!"

The young man—Matsuzemi—yelled in anger.

At Koumori.

As if—he was speaking to Haruzemi.

But that was completely reasonable of him—because at that moment, Koumori had made himself look exactly like Maniwa Haruzemi.

"So it was you, huh,"

said Koumori quietly.

Sounding disappointed, just a little.

"Huh? What are you talking about—"

Stopping Matsuzemi, who was about to flare up even more, with a raised hand, Koumori took his opposite hand and began to massage his face—and as he did.

The face of Maniwa Haruzemi vanished.

And the face of Maniwa Koumori returned to its usual place.

"Eh..... Aah....!?"

In astonishment, he pulled back his body that had leaned forward, but it ended up throwing him off balance, and Matsuzemi fell on his behind in quite the unsightly manner.

And with a contemptuous glance—

"—Even though we've worked together a number of times, I guess I never showed you this ninpou, huh. Well, according to Kyouken, ninpou aren't something to be taught, but something to be learned—but I'll treat today as a special case and teach you about mine,"

said Koumori.

"The ninpou 'Kotsuniku Zaiku'—by manipulating your skin and muscle and physique, you can turn into anybody, any person you think of. That's my, Maniwa Koumori's, unique ninpou."

Yes.

Maniwa Haruzemi—was indeed dead.

The Haruzemi that had returned from outside the village had simply been an impostor, impersonated by Koumori using his ninpou. The original Haruzemi had been dug up and carefully examined to produce the copy.

Calling it a simple disguise wouldn't even come close to describing it.

It was truly a ninpou unique to Koumori himself.

Of course, he hadn't forgotten to move the original Haruzemi's body to a different location—

"Ko—"

Matsuzemi choked.

"—Koumori-senpai, wh, wh, why did you—"

"That's what I'd like to ask you, Matsuzemi,"

Koumori said to Matsuzemi, who was still on his behind.

"Why did you kill Haruzemi?"

"......"

"Well, that was just something I wanted to ask, since I can more or less predict the response—I've pretty much figured out the method and the motive for the crime. The only thing I couldn't figure out was the criminal. But I never thought it'd be you—"

As far as Koumori remembered about the man named Maniwa Matsuzemi, he was a very serious and honest ninja. In a different way from Koumori, he was a rare existence in the Maniwa village, being the kind of man that treasured the harmony between his peers.

To think—such a guy would resort to killing.

"...If I've been exposed, then I suppose there's nothing I can do."

As expected, Maniwa Matsuzemi.

Said as such—without making any excuses or struggling in vain.

"So basically, I was successfully brought out by Koumori-senpai... I'm still pretty immature, aren't I. Even though I could have probably seen through it if I'd just thought about it—no, there was no way I could have seen through it. With the way you turned into such a perfect copy—I didn't have a chance, even though I used to be Haruzemi's closest friend. For you to be able to deceive even my eyes—"

"You were—his friend?"

"Yes. I used to be. In the past tense,"

said Matsuzemi.

With a bitter smile on his face.

"However, Koumori-senpai. How did you figure it out? You're giving off the feeling that you managed to see through everything..."

"Eh. In general, it just happened to come to mind. And it happened to fit perfectly. Well, even so—if I had to say, it would be because Haruzemi's demonstration of his new ninpou was all too unnatural."

"......"

"Of course, he probably did have the ambition to become elected as one of the newly-established Twelve Chiefs. But even so, I could hardly think that he would go as far as putting on such a large-scale production to gather so much attention—"

Koumori looked at Matsuzemi as he spoke.

"Whether it's new or old, ninpou aren't something that are meant to be exposed to people—after all, to ninja, ninpou are their lifeline. They're not something you spread to others. Whether it's your enemies or your allies. But if there was a reason for him to do that... I was thinking that maybe Haruzemi wanted to make something an established fact."

"An established fact,"

repeated Matsuzemi with a pained expression.

"Yes—that's exactly right. What he wanted was for the ninpou 'Moguri Sanagi'—to be recognized as his unique *ninpou, his and his alone*."

"......"

"*Even though—I was in pursuit of the same *ninpou."

They—used to be friends.

That was what it meant.

Koumori came to a profound realization.

And then.

He thought, that must be why—this incident had occurred.

"Well, it's not hard to figure out the rest after that—if you assume that the ninpou 'Moguri Sanagi', a ninpou that improved upon the doton-no-jutsu, did exist, then you could simply use it to kill Haruzemi underground by strangling him—"

That was—the method of the crime.

If anything, that was all it was.

Maniwa Matsuzemi had dug further underground than Maniwa Haruzemi, who had hidden in the ground with the ninpou 'Moguri Sanagi'—and then he had strangled him.

For Haruzemi, who was busy paying attention to the matters aboveground, he surely didn't think that anyone would have approached him from behind.

"However, Matsuzemi—ninpou development is supposed to be a fair competition, you know? It's like we're all hunting for treasure together. To go off and kill him just because he got ahead of you... Isn't that unjustified resentment?"

"That's not it! That guy... In order for him to demonstrate his ninpou before me, he went an announced an incomplete version of 'Moguri Sanagi'... Just to get ahead of me!"

"An incomplete version, huh."

Even so.

It seemed like a valid ninpou.

"However, well, it's true that the ability to freely move underground—your ninpou maybe has a higher degree of completion."

"Right!?"

"However."

Koumori stopped Matsuzemi, who had unthinkingly raised his voice.

"You could say that's why Haruzemi had gotten impatient and tried to set up his demonstration earlier than he should have. A treasure hunt isn't always first come, first served, but considering the circumstances in the village, being even one step behind could have been deadly. I would say even being able to hide in the earth without a breathing tube is a fine ninjutsu in itself—kind of ironic, really. You two were supposed to be good friends that were training your ninpou—and rivals that encouraged each other in pursuit of the same ninpou."

That was—the motive for the crime.

After saying it—if anything, that was all it was.

"If you simply wanted to block Haruzemi from becoming one of the Twelve Chiefs, then there was no reason for you to kill him—it was just that you held a personal grudge against him for being beaten to the punch while aiming for the same ninpou."

"He didn't beat me to the punch! He stole a march on me! Haruzemi, it's all because that guy tried to demonstrate an incomplete 'Moguri Sanagi'! Do you know how much of a disgrace that would've been for me? There's no way it makes sense for me to be late just because I cared more about completing my ninpou! H-his actions—they're a rejection of the ninpou development that I poured my heart and soul into!"

I couldn't.

I couldn't forgive him—said Matsuzemi, with all of his might.

"Rather than him,"

he said.

"Rather than him, it should be me—I'm the one that's more fitting to be one of the Twelve Chiefs!"

"......"

He was—a hostile force.

Although, since they were friends, and rivals pursuing the same ninpou—it wasn't clear if he'd be recognized by those around him as a hostile force.

However—so such normal motives existed.

Or so Koumori thought.

He would go that far—because he wanted it that much?

He wanted to stand on top of others that much?

Koumori didn't understand it one bit.

Neither the feelings of Maniwa Haruzemi, who wanted a seat on the Twelve Chiefs so bad that he'd demonstrate an incomplete ninpou—nor the feelings of Maniwa Matsuzemi, who would go as far as killing his friend, who'd overtaken him in their bout of friendly rivalry.

"You wouldn't understand,"

said Matsuzemi.

As if having seen through Koumori's inner thoughts.

"For someone like you, Koumori-senpai—who had been chosen from the beginning—you wouldn't understand at all."

"...Were you thinking about performing the demonstration yourself, after Haruzemi failed? Did you think you'd be able to get a seat on the Twelve Chiefs after that?"

"I haven't thought that far. If you ask me, I'd still say that the ninpou 'Moguri Sanagi' was still incomplete. It's still not something that can be shown to others—"

Matsuzemi snickered.

"But, I just wanted to kill him. Because I couldn't forgive him. Because of how frustrated I was."

"......"

He didn't dare to nod in understanding, but Koumori judged that those his true feelings. Otherwise, he wouldn't have gone for a method as haphazard as strangulation—he would have picked something more effective. By killing via such a method, it made it clear that Haruzemi had not died due to the failure of his new ninpou—that he had died at someone else's hands.

It was practically out of desperation.

When Koumori imitated Haruzemi and appeared in the village—he must have been quite shocked. It hadn't made sense to Koumori, who had known that it would be a trap, but Matsuzemi had appeared so quickly at the village square with good reason.

Koumori didn't know Haruzemi very well.

As such, no matter how superior the ninpou 'Kotsuniku Zaiku' was as a ninjutsu, there had certainly been an element of unnaturalness added to it—and for Matsuzemi, who had been his friend, perhaps he had been able to sense that bit of unnaturalness.

And yet, he hadn't been aware that, in that moment, all his tricks would be revealed.

That was also—the result of his desperation.

"...So."

Matsuzemi—picked himself back up in a rather relaxed manner.

"So, what are you going to do to me now—Koumori-senpai?"

"...Eh."

With a low voice, Koumori responded to Matsuzemi's question.

"We're ninja, after all—the one to get killed is the one that's more of an idiot. That's what I think, basically. I'm repeating Kyouken's words here, but—a person that gets taken out by one of their comrades pretty much didn't have the disposition to lead others in the first place. If Haruzemi actually had the capacity to be one of the Twelve Chiefs—then no matter how much you wanted to kill him, he probably wouldn't have gotten killed."

"......"

At the very least, Haruzemi should have taken some precautions.

Against the possibility that his friend might come to kill him.

"We're shinobi, after all. No matter what anyone says, we're just short-lived goods with mean and dirty work as our main selling point. Our lives are our own to protect. Killing a comrade may be a serious crime—but I don't really care about delivering judgment on it, or telling anyone else, either."

At present, the one and only chief, Maniwa Houou.

Had perhaps suddenly brought up the Twelve Chiefs plan in order to smoke out people like Maniwa Matsuzemi, or so Kyouken had said—and Koumori couldn't help but think that that Houou really would do that—

But that was a different story.

As long as it hadn't been clearly decreed, it wasn't an order.

"Plus, I'm a little impressed—if anything. Well, not just impressed at you, but including Haruzemi, too. Stealing a march on your friend, and then getting your revenge, all for the sake of your ambitions... I guess those sorts of desires are pretty common. But I don't have anything like that—no ambitions or goals, nothing like that. I just can't think about things in the same way you guys do. Really—it's amazing."

"...It all just sounds like sarcasm to me, Koumori-senpai,"

said Matsuzemi—while taking a step back.

It seemed he was breaking out in a cold sweat.

"Well, it's fine... I didn't expect Koumori-senpai to understand me, anyway. But basically, you're just going to let me off, right? From that serious crime of killing a comrade—"

"Yeah. Killing a comrade is totally fine,"

he said.

And in that instant.

He must have predicted it in advance, because when Maniwa Matsuzemi jumped back to run away—Maniwa Koumori spat out bo-shuriken from inside his mouth even faster, piercing Matsuzemi's windpipe.

"That's why—it's fine if I kill you, too."

He spoke quietly.

As if trying to persuade him.

"This ain't one of Houou's orders—but I don't care if he predicted this happening. Maniwa Matsuzemi. Out of my own will, I'm gonna kill you."

It wasn't clear if that voice of Koumori's had been heard or not.

Matsuzemi flapped his mouth open and shut, as if trying to say something—but, without being able to say anything, he tumbled to the ground.

His dying face was quite far removed from a tranquil one.

As Koumori looked down at Matsuzemi's body for a moment—

"Is it over?"

spoke a voice from behind him. And towards where he sensed that presence from, he said,

"Yeah,"

in response.

This time, without turning around.

It was Maniwa Kyouken.

As a precaution, he'd explained the situation to her and asked her to keep watch—naturally, Kyouken had been there, listening to the entire conversation between Maniwa Koumori and Maniwa Matsuzemi, without missing a single word.

However, it was as expected of a self-proclaimed observer of the village.

She had—the same arrogant smirk on her face as always.

"Well,"

said Kyouken.

"It is what it is."

That was.

Maniwa Kyouken's sole, official stance on the matter.

That's really like you, said Koumori with a bitter smile.

It was really like her, as someone who, more than anyone, thought about this village—who, more than anyone, respected the lives of her comrades.

"But, well, thanks to this, the truth behind the ninpou 'Moguri Sanagi' will forever be unknown, huh—that whole suspended animation and whatnot that you were preaching about was just a lie you made up on the spot, right?"

"Like I had a choice. Ninpou are something to be learned—right?"

"That's true."

"Maybe it actually did use the logic behind cicada grubs."

"Ha."

"Hey, Kyouken."

As if looking up at the moonless night, Koumori spoke.

"I—decided to try becoming one of the Twelve Chiefs."

"...Well, whether you liked it or not, I figured you'd become one in the end."

"I'm saying, I decided to try liking it."

"Why?"

"So that idiots like those—"

The only thing in his line of sight was Maniwa Matsuzemi's body.

But it seemed Koumori was including Haruzemi as well.

"So that idiots like those don't appear in this village again."

"I see. Well, you may as well try it."

She accepted it with a tone of voice that implied it didn't really matter to her.

"By the way? What should we do? About Matsuzemi-chan's corpse,"

she said.

"I don't think you'll be able to go public about the fact that you killed him."

"You're right. May as well dig up a hole and bury him."

◇　　　◇

After this, as had been expected by many, Maniwa Koumori would come to be praised as officially one of the Maniwa Ninja Corps's Twelve Chiefs, and, as had been expected by many, he left behind a great number of glorious military exploits. As a result, his name would be inherited again about two hundred years later.

[kingofthereapers]

Everything in the club seemed to be falling into place, and that was when Travis should have known something was bound to go wrong. 

His phone vibrated in his pocket a couple times before he reached into his front right pocket and pulled it out. “Bo” flashed across the screen and Travis tapped the green answer button and his ears were assaulted with noise from the other end of the line. The screeching sound of metal against metal was obvious to his ears and he held the phone up to his ear. “Bo….” His voice could barely be heard above the ruckus. “Travis, you had better get out here. It doesn’t look good for our truck….or the bikes.” The older man had volunteered himself to accompany the truck that had a few of their motorcycles in it. A group of guys had planned on visiting a bike show that was a few days ride away. Why they didn’t just ride their bikes, Travis didn’t understand, but he wasn’t heading it up so he stayed out of it. 

“Fuck.” Travis muttered, rolling his eyes and shifting to get up from the chair that he’d been lounging in behind the desk in his office. It still seemed odd for Travis to have an office, but that didn’t change the truth of the matter. Paperwork was the bane of his existence, so anything he could do to get out of it sounded fine to him, even if it was dealing with the loss of one of his trucks. “Where you at? Didn’t get far, ya idiots.” Travis added that insult on, because that was just what he did. The older man only laughed a bit, because he knew full well they were being idiots. “Maybe five miles out of town.” Bo admitted sheepishly before the older man hung up. “Can’t trust these dipshits to do anything themselves.” Travis grumbled under his breath as he left his office and the sound of tattoo guns buzzing away met his ears. His blue eyes landed on Lula near the front of the shop, cleaning up after her last client. “Gotta head out to clean up a mess. These idiots crashed the truck.” He explained with a roll of his eyes. “Didn’t even get five miles out of town.” He shook his head at his own words before he winked at Lula and was on his way to deal with the mess. 

Travis rode a fairly basic Harley Davidson, and although it wasn’t tricked out like some of the other guy’s bikes there was no doubt that Travis would win any race on damn near any type of road. The leader of The Reapers MC was rather fearless and in ways reckless to a fault. It had worked out for him the last thirty-three-years at least, and it wasn’t going to change any time soon. Even though he’d been riding above the speed limit Travis had at least expected the police to be there to stick their noses in everyone else’s business, but as he pulled up to the scene of the accident there wasn’t a cop in sight. What he did hear was a loud pop and he lost control of his bike. The Harley went down onto its side and Travis did his best to dismount before the bike could crush his leg. He hadn’t been quite quick enough because the nearly thousand pound bike slammed down on his left leg. 

The president of The Reapers was left laying in the middle of the road as his bike kept going with all its momentum. “Damn it.” He growled through clenched teeth as he sat up to survey the extent of the damage to his leg. The brunette man had just been about to pull his phone from his pocket for the second time in the last ten minutes when he heard some crunching on the gravel behind him. “Bo? I fucked up my leg pretty good.” Travis groaned, pivoting just enough to see the club enforcer walking towards him with a large knife in his right hand. Now, Bo was no small, nor agile man, but he had power on his side, so it was going to be a rough fight when it came down to it between the two men. Travis shifted, pushing to turn around with his good leg until he was sitting there facing the oncoming man. His left hand was in his long beard and Travis had only an inkling of just how men in the past had felt when judgement had come down upon their heads. Bo was a terrifying man to have to face in a one on one fight, not to mention when you were at a disadvantage. 

“Worked out even better than I could have thought.” Bo admitted to the younger man with a smirk peaking through his thick beard. He comfortably spun the knife around in his hand without so much as a glance in the direction of the sharp blade and Travis shifted back some. The blade stopped and Bo pointed it straight at Travis as he spoke. “This day has been a long time coming. Your pa didn’t deserve anything you did to him, you little shit.” The younger man’s eyes narrowed at mention of the crime he’d committed some three years before. It was the only way for the club to survive in Travis’ eyes. The Reapers had been such a big part of his life for as long as his father was letting him ride motorcycles, license or not. He couldn’t see it go down in pitiful smoke. If the club were to ever die, it would be in a flaming fight and the world would hear about it. 

Travis spit on the ground between the two men and he glared up at Bo in a defying manor. “You’re not even going to deny it now, are ya?” The enforcer shook his head, spinning the blade in his hand again as Travis shuffled back until he was at least to the side of the road and there was a large rock he could use to help himself get to his feet. It was a painful process and that was probably the only reason Bo allowed it. He wanted to see Travis endure as much pain as possible. There was a trail of blood that had followed Travis from his original landing spot and it didn’t look good for the younger man. His uninjured leg held the brunt of his weight while his banged up leg just seemed to pour blood from just below the knee. His jeans were already soaked while more red fluid flowed freely down his leg and into his boot. 

While Travis was just trying to stay on his feet, Bo approached with that blade gleaming in the sunlight. Blue orbs locked on him, and didn’t have even an ounce of fear in them despite the fact that death was drawing nearer with each and every step. “Fuck you.” Travis spit at the man as he approached. “He was running the club into the ground and you knew it….” Travis winced in pain for a moment and then shook his head as Bo stood there right in front of him and even though Travis was hunched a little their eyes were nearly level. Their long time enforcer was a couple inches shorter than his young president, but height didn’t matter so much when you were starting a fight out with a pretty bad injury. Still, Travis was bold enough to think he could come out of this alive. 

The first blow came from up above, an upraised arm bringing that knife straight down for Travis’ chest. It didn’t meet its mark because the young man brought his arm up and hit the other man’s arm so the blade just glanced against his left side. It wasn’t pretty as the blood began to dribble from the small wound, but it was better than having a knife sticking out of your chest. By now the adrenaline was flowing through Travis’ body and he didn’t feel his leg quite as badly as he had before. He could even hobble around on the leg, which he did to put some more space between him and his attacker. What Travis didn’t know was that he’d dropped his phone and it had dialed Lula’s number when it had fallen. That was his saving grace at the end of it all. That woman was the reason he would live to see his 34th birthday and beyond. 

“Thomas didn’t deserve to die like that, you asshole!” Bo bellowed as he charged at the young leader. Travis was able to dodge the knife blow, but the shoulder check took him off his feet because his leg wasn’t quite as steady as he’d thought it had been. Before Travis could get back to his feet Bo was there, hovering over him, placing a foot on his bad leg and pressing. Travis grunted, but glared up at the man. He wouldn’t get a scream out of him if that was what he wanted. Travis would suffer complete agony in silence just to spite the older man. “I never liked you from the start.” Bo admitted as he eased up on Travis' leg, but that knife never moved from being pointed in his direction. 

With some effort Bo got down on his knees beside Travis and grabbed the long dark hair of the younger man to make sure he was watching and couldn’t turn his head away. “You’re just a piece of shit kid that should have been whooped from time to time.” The blade was pressed against Travis stomach lightly, but that tip was so sharp it was drawing blood in small little patterns as the knife moved around while Bo spoke. Travis stared into Bo’s eyes intently just like the man wanted, but what he wouldn’t find there was any bit of horror for what was about to happen to him. In all honesty, the way Travis had lived gave him the sense that he would die some kind of horrible death. If you live by the sword, you die by the sword. It was something Travis had always thought to be very true, so here he was, dying by the knife just like he’d killed by the knife. 

As the blade pressed into his stomach, Travis could feel the cool steel parting his skin and diving right into multiple organs. The pain was enough to make anyone black out, but Travis was too stubborn for that kind of shit. He could see some darkness around the edges of his eyes as he stared at Bo, and once again the young man spit, though, this time it was right into Bo’s face and there was a little bit of blood in it. Travis smirked a bit, the blood in his mouth highlighting his teeth as Bo twisted the blade slowly. Travis groaned and arched his back somewhat, trying to move his head, but Bo held it there. “I’m gonna let the buzzards finish you off….But I want everyone to know just who saved the world from more of your bullshit.” The older man said, standing up and leaving that knife protruding from just above his belly button. It was not a pretty sight with his leg already covered in blood and now more dark red fluid flowing from his torso. 

Travis was pretty sure this was just how he was going to die, and he was coming to terms with it after everything he’d done in his life. Who deserved a death like this more than he did? He didn’t know anyone, that was for sure. He gasped and then coughed a bit, more of that metallic taste filling his mouth as he just laid there waiting for death to take him. That was when he heard Lula’s voice nearly screaming. He was fading and he didn’t know where it was coming from, but he was glad it was the last thing he was hearing before he left this earth.