#I can probably do something a little simpler though

[tired-biscuit]

Logan would probably moan like he’s having the best sex of his life from just a shoulder massage. Do you think he’d deny he needs one? Or would you catch him off guard while he’s asleep?

18+ MDNI, fem!reader // cw: friends to lovers, unexpected mutual pining, logan realises he’s touch-starved after you offer to give him a backrub, and you both get turned on by it.

divider credit: div1nepetal

what if you’re, like… his friend, who’s grown to care deeply about him over the years and wants nothing else but to help him out a little from time to time in simpler, more ‘humanly’ ways because of said caring?

i mean, he’s got super fast healing and all that jazz, sure, however that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t get sore and thus — unbearably — cranky about it… and since you’ve known each other for so long, you’ve also gotten quite comfortable in each other’s company! so it wouldn’t be that odd if you were to offer to relieve the pain in your friend’s back when he swings by your place one random evening… right?

it’s really just to make him feel better, nothing else! because as soon as he flings himself onto his favoured spot on your worn out couch (a dent that he fucking made with the help of his heavy adamantium ass), you catch him repetitively stretching his neck from side to side and rolling his shoulders every so often with a furrowed brow and a tight-lipped expression that somehow manages to appear even grumpier than his usual neutral.

you steal glances because of it. listen intently to the laboured sighs he keeps letting out. and after leering at him and his struggles from the corner of your eye for a little while, not at all paying attention to the movie that you’re supposed to be watching with him, you finally succumb. you turn to the side and propose your offer whilst wiggling your magic fingers, as you like to call them, right in front of his face, and logan, as is expected, denies it by gently swatting your hand away.

taking over pretty much the entire space on the couch from how he’s manspreading, he doesn’t even peel his eyes from the television that — unlike you — he’s actually watching when he tells you that, “you don’t gotta worry about it” and that it’s not that bad, then. for some reason, he even feels the need to add that he can handle himself just fine.

it all makes your eyes roll.

and instead of listening, you rather choose to persist. he’s a wall whenever he makes up his mind on something, you know this, but you also know that if you nag him and scold him for long enough, prodding and picking at the cracks between phantom bricks, he’ll have no choice but to give in and give you what you want just to make you stop… though not without adding a snide comment or two himself during it because he can’t help but act like a dick sometimes around the people he’s fond of, it’s just the way he is!

as you tell him to scooch over and lay on his stomach, you feel just a little bit bad that you had to resort to annoying him in order to being allowed to help him. however, the guilt isn’t nearly as strong as is the sense of victory that you’ve just achieved, so you allow it to curl the corners of your lips into a satisfied, cat-like smile while you busy yourself by straddling the small of his back. he can’t see your face anyway, so what’s the issue?

meanwhile, logan lets out a tired exhale, smushing one cheek against the decorative pillow that he’s folded his arms under so that he can still watch the tv while you work your supposed magic. he listens to your sheepish apology and request to tell you if you’re too heavy, to which he responds by calling it nonsense and that you’re insulting him by thinking you’re heavy whilst sitting on top of a guy who’s literally filled with metal.

and filled with metal he is, indeed! it’s not long before you realize just how much freaking pressure you have to apply to his shoulders and back in order to make him feel something. how much physical strength you have to put into it, to the point that you’re nearly sweating because of it. popping a bone in order to ease some of the tension is literally impossible, so you aim your focus onto the taut cords of muscle instead.

you can see them even through the thin white shirt that he’s wearing — they’re that profound. flexed and attractive, attained with hard work. but they become even more visible when he reluctantly lets you roll the hem of his shirt up towards the collar, unfolding his arms just so that he can lift the upper half of his body, and you right along with him, with no visible effort whatsoever.

the air in the room shifts a little after that; it gets kind of tense. because all of a sudden, you’re skin to skin. his should be covered in scars, but he’s lucky enough to have them all healed and smoothed away by his power. and while he may not be able to feel relief in his adamantium-covered bones, he sure as hell can feel the warmth of your palms running down the slopes of his broad shoulders, the grazing of your nails that nearly makes him shiver when they reach a particularly ticklish part on the nape of his neck, the heat between your legs as you continue to sit on him, dressed in nothing else but a pair of comfortable and tiny shorts…

forcing himself to be a loner, logan isn’t used to being touched like this all that much, and it makes him sensitive. and as a result, he can’t help but squeeze his eyes shut and groan in absolute pleasure when you readjust by wiggling your hips on top of him and lean in super close to really dig your fingers into his strong back.

you pause at the sound; he can hear your breathing hitch a little before it continues to fan his shoulder blade. he’s already halfway on opening his mouth to say something in order to avoid things from getting too awkward even if he’s not the kind of man who minds if they do, when all of a sudden it hits him.

it’s barely there, just the faintest whiff of something sticky and sweet. it would be impossible to catch by a normal human, but he isn’t a normal human, now is he? no, he’s a mutant — a primal one, at that — and because of it, his nose is more than capable of catching a scent like this.

you’re… aroused. have gotten turned on by the sound he just made. are getting wetter between the legs by the second. and he can smell it.

fuck.

logan chooses not to say anything even if the pheromones that he’s steadily inhaling now are making his blood grow feverish to dangerous levels. meanwhile, you choose to remain quiet as well, simply continuing your ministrations as if nothing has happened.

something that does change, however, is the way you touch him. from that hiccup onward, you get more, should you say, intimate with it; even daring to comb your fingers through his rich, dark hair at some point and experimentally tugging at the roots, making him actually shiver this time.

he doesn’t just shiver, though. the action is so freaking good that it also causes his eyes to roll into the back of his head — he silently prays that he’s managed to squeeze them shut for a second time before you could catch it.

and that’s not all there is to it either. by now, his cock has become painfully hard in his pants. thick, hot and leaking pre-cum from how excited he’s getting. it makes laying down on his stomach extremely uncomfortable, but he thinks it’s better to suffer through it than enabling you to see what you’re doing to him both physically and mentally.

mind fogged by a mixture of your and now his own lust, he’s getting so horny that all he wants to do is rut into the couch while you continue to touch him. he doesn’t, of course, he’s been around for over two centuries so he’s pretty good at restraining himself, however that doesn’t mean that he likes doing it.

so he remains decent… well, somewhat. he pants a little bit, and he grunts and curses under his breath in a way that makes him sound like he’s balls deep in your cunt, folding you in a mating press and pounding away until you’re nothing but a whiny mess and his cum is trickling down your thighs, but he still tries his very best.

by the time you pat him on the shoulders and tell him you’ve finished, he fears he did, too.

[j-nope-not-today]

HP characters reaction to s/o being a muggle

Harry Potter

He does not care

Literally doesn't have an opinion on the subject

Bc he loves youuu and not your magic or non magical abilities

I really feel that his main concern is some snobby witch/wizard being rude to you

But could give a fuck less if anyone commented on you being a muggle

"Okay and? So what if she/he can't do magic. She's/he's still great in bed."

10/10 will say some snarky/sarcastic ass shit if someone is rude to you about it.

He is THE Harry Potter

He would probably love for someone to point it out so he can say some shit back about it.

He will defend you through thick and thin.

May god have mercy on whatever poor soul wants to be prejudice against you.

Will love doing muggle things with you. I mean he did grow up as a muggle.

Otherwise though he loves you and your muggleness very much. It reminds him of home ❤️

Ron Weasley

Aww your his little cutie patootie

Will brag about it to anyone who will listen

"Oh? Well my gf/bf made me dinner from scratch."

He'll brag about literally anything he can. It could be the simplest shit too

Is very impressed that you do everything and without magic too

He'll start doing things without magic just to appreciate the simplicity of it

But yeah..definitely tells everyone and their mom about how proud he is to be with you

Ain't no one gonna be rude about it either. He will guaranteed shut that shit down as soon as it starts.

Fred Weasley

He loves it.

Loves absolutely everything about it

Not to mention he loves it even more because romancing you is so much more fun for him

Will always pull a fancy magic trick from out of his sleeve to impress you or flirt with you

"For you beautiful"

Does complain about doing things without magic

But will begrudgingly do so to please you

But yes. He will complain about it the entire time

I don't think anyone would be ballsy enough to insult you or say some rude shit about you being a muggle

Knowing fred that would start world War 3

But he looooves you. Vv much

George Weasley

Admires you so so much

Bc how do you do it?

Will watch you do the simplest most mundane shit and come out of nowhere with a

"My god you look so fucking gorgeous right now love."

Wouldn't complain about helping you do stuff without magic

I think he finds he enjoys it much more without magic. It's more rewarding

Will beg to do muggle things with you absolutely wants to experience it all

Just like with fred. Ain't no one ballsy enough to say something lest they want to die

But he absolutely adores you and everything about you

And will remind you every day how much he loves you

Draco Malfoy

He didn't expect to end up with you

But he sure isn't complaining

And he'll be damned if you lift a single beautiful fucking finger when he's around

He will 100% dote on you in his every waking moment

For a second you might be convinced you aren't a muggle

He uses magic for just about everything and will not let you do something when he can do it for you

"Listen dear it's just simpler this way. Let me do it."

Your spoiled and he'll make sure you know how appreciated and loved you are

Can never wrap his head around muggles.

Thinks you make everything way more complicated than it needs to be

And should anyone be insulting or rude. They might find themselves hexed or cursed.

Neville Longbottom

This man LOVES you

Will not for a second let you think otherwise

And he'll probably absolutely love doing muggle things with you

And you will have a garden

I can just see him loving gardening with you. The muggle way.

Will randomly whip out flowers and small little gifts for you

Just to impress you

And he'll definitely have words for anyone who wants to be rude to you because how dare they?

To him. Your absolutely perfect

[f4ggydog]

mari x reader🔞: you look so fine

tags: smut, nsfw, reader has a dick, cum painting face, cum swallowing, oral, blowjob, porn without plot, a little filthy but not dark, pussy eating, a bit of overstim, hopefully not too ooc, established relationship

“Hey you.” You smirk at a slithering Mari whose crawling up next to you. You play with a strand of her dark hair and chuckle. “Don’t you think it’s a bit late to be up right now?”

Mari doesn’t entertain your question. Oh, you know the drill. Unfortunately, you’ve grown to have quite a weakness to those big doe eyes. Those brown eyes could turn you to mush within a minute and Mari knew that.

“Sooooo, are you gonna do something about it?” Mari shrugs.

“About what, babe?” You roll your eyes. Everybody in the cabin was already asleep. Mari should be resting too. But of course she had to get her way before she could seek out a proper slumber.

Maybe it was your fault that you were such a sucker, that those big eyes weren’t something you could easily say no to. It was your favorite feature of Mari’s. Not that you’d trade any of her features for the world, but her eyes in particular lit a warmth inside of you that wasn’t comparable to any previous encounters you’ve had with other women.

“You look cold,” Mari giggles. “You know, I heard somewhere that going to sleep cold could, uh, make you more likely to die.”

“Are you a scientist now Mar?” You lay your hand over your forehead.

“It’s just frostbite! It has to do with frostbite! I don’t know, I remember reading it in a book.”

“Baby, while I do appreciate your efforts to convince me to have sex with you right now, I do think there’s too much of a risk with everyone around us.”

“We’re in the attic, idiot. Remember? Nobody’s gonna come up to the attic because they hear some groans or something. They probably will think it’s some ghosts.”

God, your gorgeous girl and all her excuses.

“It’ll be quick,” Mari begs, flashing you some of the biggest puppy eyes you’ve ever seen. “Need you a lot right now.”

“Mar,” you sigh, wiping your face. “Can’t we wait till we’re on a hunt or something? Then, we can sneak off into the forest and do what we need to do.”

“We don’t have to do anything crazy right now,” Mari whines. “Please. I’ve been thinking about you all day. You barely talked to me today, dumbass. It’s like you hate me or something.”

Yeah, she always adds the insult at the end.

“C’mere.” You invite Mari to pull down your pants. “But we can’t be so loud though, okay? Even if either of us feel really good.”

Mari makes quick work of your jeans. She pulls them down to your ankles and your semi-hard cock springs out from the containments its been kept in. You always find yourself giving into that pretty princess. But saying no is always simpler stated rather than done.

She quickly takes your cock between her hands, pumping slowly at first. Then, she places a kiss on your tip, which makes your hips twitch.

“You like what you see, Mar?” You gently caress the back of her head.

“I’ve seen bigger,” Mari teases, leaning down anyways to plant kisses along your veiny shaft.

“You little brat,” you growl. “How would you feel if I just started fucking your face for saying that?”

Mari whimpers, using one of her hands to now fondle your balls. She may still be clueless at proper foreplay, but she’s touching as carefully as she can.

“Too big for you?” You coo, a sly smirk resting on your lips.

“Shut up. I’ve literally sucked you off before.”

“And let’s not pretend that you didn’t struggle. That was one time, Mar.”

Mari’s cheeks are a rosy pink and she lowers her head in slight shame.

“Don’t get shy on me now, pretty girl. You were such an eager beaver before.”

“Don’t s-say eager beaver,” Mari replies. “You sound corny. What kind of loser still uses that term?”

“The loser who’s cock you’re about to suck.”

You had a talent for matching Mari’s energy. A little banter could never squash your ego.

“Fuckkk,” you groan, slowly guiding Mari’s lips onto your cock head. “There you go. Just start with the tip.”

You buck into her mouth ever so tenderly, making sure not to bruise her throat or cause it to go sore. She’s still your beautiful girl at the end of the day. The sex wasn’t about agony or punishment or teaching her a lesson. Sure, you occasionally used playful little threats to entice Mari and give her ants in her pants. But, at least for now, you knew that you couldn’t go super rough on her. Mari was the definition of “too cute to harm,” like a butterfly flapping its wings through the forest.

“Just like that,” you encourage. “Mhm, there you go, Mar. Take it nice and easy.”

Mari nods, her doe eyes locked onto your gaze. She briefly pulls away to catch her breath before diving right back onto your hunk of flesh. Her nose nuzzles up against your pubes, inhaling that scent she’s craved so intensely.

Though, any compliment of your body parts wouldn’t do justice to Mari’s own beauty. She’s a gift sent to you from the heavens, an angel wearing the disguise of a semi-rude teenage girl. Her body’s divine, a treasure that you didn’t deserve. But yet, life was generous enough to supply you with the most beautiful royalty on the planet.

“So good Mari,” you praise. “Such a good girl for me. That’s it. Oh, you use that pretty mouth so good.”

Mari muffles her gratitude. All previous attitude has slipped out of the window. She couldn’t even think about being bratty. Her head was empty and filled with nothing but thoughts of gathering your cum.

One particular suckle makes you jolt and you pull Mari’s head in deeper. You wait to see if she’ll tap on your thigh, letting you know that she needs room to breathe. But Mari doesn’t. She hollows her cheeks and trains herself to take your decently sized cock better.

Your eyes roll back, your lip quivering as Mari pleasures you. “Yeah, I love looking at those pretty eyes while you suck my cock, baby. Such a pretty princess, aren’t you? Look at that adorable little face.”

“T-Thank you,” Mari whimpers. “Trying to be good for you, want to have your cock in my mouth a-all the time…”

“I know baby.” You pet Mari’s head like she’s a cuddly kitten. “Doing so good for me. You can take it, baby. I know my brave girl can handle it.”

Mari gasps. She’s hesitant to deepthroat you, but she senses that you’re reaching the edge. You’re both gonna die one day. Mind as well live on the edge.

Mari widens her mouth and unclenches her jaw. She takes you all the way to the base and doesn’t pull back as swiftly as previous times. Her eyes water and gagging sounds ensue. But she’s your brave girl, and she’s ready to tolerate another challenge life tosses her way.

“You’re taking me so good. You’re doing so good, baby. So proud of my sweet girl.”

Mari’s gotta keep going. You’re so close. She can feel it in her bones. Her own toes curl at your cock hitting the back of her throat.

“Oh fuck, fuck,” you purr, struggling to keep the volume of your voice down. You even forgot that other people were residing in this cabin along with you and Mari.

Mari redoubles her efforts.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum all over that pretty face. You’re so fucking irresistible. You have no idea what the hell you do to me, Mar.”

Mari chuckles. She adores getting you to a state where you’re drunk on lust and gratification. Before Mari can gain control of her breathing, you pull her off and spray her with white. Thick, hot fluid squirts onto Mari’s face. It covers almost every part except her eyes and some even slips into her mouth. Mari initially wrinkles her nose at the salty taste, but opens her mouth keenly when you scoop some cum off of her skin and press it to her lips.

“Good girl.” You nod your head. “Just suck it off my fingers, baby.”

Mari cleans your digits off, your hand caressing her hair with care.

“Atta girl. God, such a pretty sight, your face mostly splattered with my cum.”

“Don’t try to embarrass me!” Mari lightly punches your arm. “You’re the one that was completely lost a few seconds ago. Your face was all twisted in pleasure just from my mouth.”

“Oh, you’re so very descriptive, Mar. Maybe don’t get so cocky though because you’re next.”

“Good.” Mari’s smile stays arrogant. “It’s only right that you return the favor. Wouldn’t be a fair exchange if you didn’t help me.”

“Don’t talk so smart with me. You’re the one who’s gonna have dried cum on her face.”

“Shut up asshole,” Mari groans, undressing and pushing her own pants to the side.

There’s a wet patch on her underwear and you cherish the way Mari jumps when you press down on the spot. It’s like pushing a button on a teddy bear at the store to get it to make certain noises.

You slip Mari’s underwear down to her ankles and then off her feet. You notice the way she closes her legs, like she’s trying to hide something. But her arousal doesn’t lie. There’s wetness costing her inner thighs and shining on her pussy.

“Someone was excited.” You crawl closer so that your mouth can be centimeters away from her slick cunt.

“Don’t tease,” Mari pouts. “Need you down there…”

“You need me down there?” Your eyes twinkle. “Yeah, need me to make you feel good, baby? You want me to make that pretty pussy cum?”

Mari throbs, hard. She wasn’t expecting that line.

“Oh, you poor thing. Do you feel deprived, Mar? Does your little pussy feel neglected? Hm?”

“S-Stop it.” Mari crosses her arms, looking off to the side. “I…ugh, fuck you.”

You understood exactly how to rile your girl up. And Mari’s too focused on her mortification to notice you diving straight for her slit.

You spread her pussy out a little wider with your fingers, lapping at her entrance to warm her up.

“Baby,” Mari whines. “Baby, I…”

“It’s okay, Mar. You were right earlier. Your cute pussy needs some attention too.”

Mari sucks in her breath and gasps as your tongue starts swirling on her clit. A heat flash washes over her and she begins sweating. Her hands form into fists and she claws her nails into her own palms.

Mari always had a problem with sensitivity and cumming too fast. You swear one flick on her clit could send her into an earth shattering orgasm. You don’t recall ever having Mari last longer than ten minutes. It remained difficult to treat her fragile body like a glass sculpture.

“S-So good,” Mari squeaks. “I-It’s so good, baby. A-Ah, wait I-“

“It’s okay baby,” you soothe, still suckling on her nub. “It’s okay. It’s supposed to feel good. Let it feel good.”

“I don’t wanna cum so fast,” Mari sobs. “B-But, it feels really good. Please don’t stop, please, please.”

“I’m not stopping,” you reassure between licks and kisses. “My pretty girl deserves all the love she can get.

Mari’s eyes fill with tears. Her body thrusts into your mouth, overwhelming her further. Her lip can’t stop trembling and it’s nearly impossible for her to keep her noises of ecstasy at the right volume. You’re both surprised nobody’s woken up to witness the chaos yet.

“Just feel good, Mar.” Her pussy pulses against your face. You slide in a finger so your mouth has more room to talk her through it. “I know it’s a lot, but that just means you’re feeling incredible. It’s a good thing. I’m right here, baby.”

“Fuck, fuck. Y/N, I think I’m already…”

“So close already?” You decide you owed Mari a bit of good faith ridicule. “Yeahhh? You already want to cum? Poor thing can barely keep herself together.”

“I know, I know.” Mari shuts her eyes. “Please, please. I, fuck, I can’t take much more. Please, a-ah!”

Mari was melting underneath you like a snowman in the sun.

“Fuck, please, please. Please.”

“Is that the only word you know how to say now?” You chuckle mischievously. “Has my baby gone all dumb with her thoughts? All she can think about is her pussy getting slobbered on?”

“Don’t talk to me like that,” Mari protests meekly, despite knowing she loves the condescending baby talk.

“Like what? You don’t like when I talk to you like a little puppy, Mar? Hm? You don’t like when I treat you like a squirmy little puppy?”

“Fuck, fuck!” Mari sobs. “Fuck, it’s too much. It’s too much, please!”

“Nooo, but you can take it for me, princess. Cause you’re a good girl and that’s what good girls do. They take my finger and my mouth, yeah?”

Mari cums right on your tongue. She rocks her hips against your face, riding out her orgasm. The pleasure consumes her so deeply that it turns into pain and overstimulated tears run down her cheeks. She cries and cries, babbling like a mess while she cums undone. Meanwhile, your mouth is still running, egging her on so she doesn’t waste this high she’s riding.

“That’s it Mari,” you coo. “That’s it. Such a good girl. Just keep cumming. Make sure you get it all out, okay?”

“I’m exhausted,” Mari pants. “F-Fuck.”

“God, my pretty angel is such a mess. Look at how soaked you are. I can still taste your juices in my mouth.”

“D-Don’t make me throb again,” Mari mewls.

“It’s so fun to watch you unravel though.” You grin wickedly. “I almost want you to go another round.”

Mari gulps. “A-Another one? But I’m already so sensitive.”

“That’s what makes it fun,” you purr.

You were sliding on the thin line of not wanting to coax Mari to the point of distress, but enjoying when your girl was spoiled.

But you see a glint of fear in Mari’s brown eyes, so you stop. You quickly swipe your hand across her pussy, cleaning up any remaining fluids that were sticking to her genitals. Then, you pull Mari in for an embrace and a kiss on the forehead.

Mari sits herself in your lap and snuggles against you like your body functioned as a pillow. She hums into your chest, still a shy mess. You rub Mari’s back and hold her as tight as you possibly can.

“Did so good today princess,” you praise. “You’re always such a good girl for me, my special girl.”

Mari lets out a cute yawn.

“Someone’s a little sleepy,” you comment. “I really did tire you out, did I?”

“Shut up,” Mari remakes. Still a fighting spirit, even in exhaustion.

[raythekiller]

could you plz do the creeps realizing they like someone & what they do abt their feelings?? thank you sm !

🗒 ❛ Realizing They're In Love ༉‧₊˚✧

Featuring: Jeff The Killer, Ben Drowned, Ticci Toby, Eyeless Jack, Laughing Jack, Masky, Hoodie

#Notes: warning for some light angst in some parts (mainly EJ and LJ)

pronouns used:

˗ˏˋ back to navigation ´ˎ˗

꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Jeff The Killer

He absolutely hates the way you make him feel and will be extra mean to you because of it. He doesn't even realize what the feelings are at first, he just knows they make him feel vulnerable and weak and he despises that and, by correlation, despises you as well. Once he does realize it though (after a good, good while) he'll still be mean, but more in a teasing sort of way. You can probably tell he has something for you because of how possessive he gets, always wanting your attention to be towards him and getting jealous every time you spend time with other people. He'll just keep behaving that way and getting increasingly upset that you won't notice his "obvious" flirting.

꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Ben Drowned

Now this guy is the most shameless simp to have ever simped on the face of the Earth. That being said, he's not used to actually having feelings for someone - normally it only goes as far as physical attraction. So while he is normally decent at flirting (again, if you like cringe pickup lines at all), it all goes down the drain as soon as he realized he's actually, genuinely down bad. Suddenly he's stuttering, unable to get sentences out right, and finds his mind going blank whenever you're around, just fidgeting with his fingers nervously instead of trying to make a move. It's cute if you're into shy guys.

꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Ticci Toby

Another one who's a little bit oblivious to his own feelings for a long, long time. All he knows is that you remind him of simpler times, times where things were better, so he wants to be around you as often as he possibly can. You'll be sitting side by side and he'll see your hand resting by your body and the thought of grabbing it crossed his mind, his heart immediately started beating faster to the point he had to excuse himself. That's when he knew. Though he is quite shy by nature, he'll try his best to be a little bolder in his own way, complimenting you more and being a little more physical. One of the only guys who isn't afraid to confess first, though his is a little bit more in the heat of the moment than a well planned out romantic confession.

꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Eyeless Jack

Now with him, things are a little more complicated. He has what I like to call "villain complex", where he truly and genuinely believes himself to be an awful, disgusting and vile person. Hell, not even a person - a demon. He lacks any kind of good opinion about himself, so when he realizes (quite fast, at that) that he has feelings for you? He feels offended on your behalf. To have a monster, an abomination like him be in love with you, something so good and pure in his eyes, is like the ultimate offense to him. So, he won't act on his feelings. Honestly, he'll even hope that you manage to get with someone else so he can know you're genuinely, truly happy and move on. It's very plausible you two won't ever end up together. Unless you decide to take matters into your own hands, that is.

꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Laughing Jack

Jack is a little bit of a wild card. He naturally has a flirty personality, so you won't know that he's serious unless he decides to tell you, which he probably won't for a good long while yet. That's because, unless he tells you about it, he doesn't actually have anything to lose. His main fear is that you'll be disgusted by those feelings he has, disgusted by him, and decide to leave him just like everyone else did. It's not even rejection that he's so afraid of, it's abandonment. So, while he has one of the easiest times accepting his feelings, he'll be one of the worst when it comes to acting on them.

꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Masky

Pretty similar to Jeff, but also complete opposites in some ways. While he is extra mean to you because you make him feel vulnerable, it's also because he's hyper aware of what he's feeling towards you. He's a grown man, he knows attraction when he feels it, sexual or romantic, but that doesn't make him hate it any less. Unlike Jeff who's an asshole as a way of flirting, Tim is an asshole to get you to hate him. If you just despise him, his feelings should technically go away as well, so that's what he's aiming at. He already has enough problems in his life, a "silly little crush" (as he calls it) isn't another one that he needs or wants to deal with. Again, if you want things to go further, you'll have to take matters into your own hands.

꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Hoodie

Smooth ass motherfucker. Like Masky, knows what the feelings are right away, but has no fear in acting on them. And he's super fucking good at it. He sees love as one of the many pleasures of life, something meant to be enjoyed, so he's not going to shy away from it. He'll shower you in every love language known to man, this guy absolutely knows what he's doing. He's not even insecure that you might reject him, he knows he's a catch and you know what? He's not wrong. So it won't take him long at all to confess in the most chill but romantic way possible, like it's not even a big deal (which, to him, really isn't).

[yandere-wishes]

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆Doc-Ringo⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

✮ Yandere! Boothill x Reader

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Plot: There's a slick black-clad little gal who's been messing with his bounties recently. Boothill's been dying to rustle her up and take a bite

⁀➷ Warnings: Yandere behavior, blood, and gore, war trauma, Genie trying to do a cowboy accent.

⁺₊𝄞₊⁺: Crimson and Clover by Joan Jett

And I don't hardly know her,

But I think I can love her,

Ah, now when she comes walking over,

I've been waiting to show her,

My mind's such a sweet thing

I want to do everything

What a beautiful feeling

It's not like the movies, they fed us on little white lies.

~💜

The first time he sees you there's a tempest of bullets rattling off his chest. Metal singing metal, as shells vie for an opening. It's all very lethal,

like the center of a rabid dust storm. Kissing death and sucking in her poison. Boothill can't tell where the bullets are coming from only that there's a dozen at a time ringing over his head. He shields his face with the metal of his forearms peaking through the gap to catch a glimpse of black.

Pure black.

That's the first thing he notices as your frenzy yields, You're clad in black from head to toe, even going so far as to dawn an eerie familiar mask. He's seen this scene play out somewhere before, he just can't remember where. "Morning mister", he likes that voice, jejune and teeming with confidence. It reminds him of himself, back when the sunset used to mean something and he could still feel wheat stocks under his soft palms.

"Howdy lil'lady I reckon you're in my way. Mind stepping aside before you get yourself hurt?" Your answer comes in the form of an aimed pistol, spine straight, midnight serape caught on the wind. He thinks you look a little too much like the folks back home -back when there was a home- blood boiling over eager for a fight. His bounty is standing just over yonder, blocked partly by your stubborn shadow. Boothill doesn't think twice before firing two rounds.

He's met with four...

He's in a cheap motel on Penacony, screwing in bolts that came loose. In the end, you laid claim to his bounty. Dragging him away to the hills. He's left growling at the thought, bested by a muddle-fudging fox. Lil gal probably ain't never even been in a proper shoot-out. The screwdriver cracks under his metal fingers. Boothill ain't about to start letting some pretty little thing get in the way of him and his targets.

The TV screen flickers to a melancholy monochrome. The films are old, distorted, crippled in parts. But he keeps them around, much like everything else about him, it's a bygone thing refusing to die.

He still likes to play them from time to time, trying to elicit the tastes of home. Hearing Nick and Graey setting plates out for dinner as his siblings rush downstairs. The movies are older than the new universe in more ways than one.

They come from a simpler time.

He'd always wondered why someone would bother painting such precious things in black and white. Spilling melancholia into picture frames, leaving everything tasting of vodka and vanilla.

It doesn't matter though, not really. All that matters is the sound of hooves on sand and bullets shooting. So long as the cowboys live their stories, everything else can be forgiven.

But this time something's off. The bandit's black mask shines through, gleaming something awful making him grind his sharp teeth. That damn mask, sitting pretty over a sly smirk. it reminds him of you, little cutie with your slick attitude. What bandit goes around doing hero's work anyway? What kinda twisted little lady are you?

He's getting mighty sick of this. Do you think you own the universe or something? "Been seeing way too much of you lately." There's sand in his Synesthesia Beacon his voice coming out horse, brittle. He kicks the head of an IPC lackey trying to drive home a point. "You getting on my nerves cutie". The ground looks nothing short of a graveyard, bodies scattered some piled. The blood paints the sands in a deep maroon, reflecting the glint of the distant stars. The last soldier is cowering behind you, his whimpers singing in Boothill's ears, one more bullet, that's all it'll take. "This one's mine" you mutter, and he wonders for a moment if the dry weather is getting to you too. "Not a chance pumpkin" his gun's drawn, firing bullets before you can even feel for your holster. The smirking bullet impales your abdomen, aimed point blank at the officer's head. But before the last body can be claimed you kick the man out of the way.

"Damn it" Boothill's anger is tangible, he knows you can feel it between your teeth. He's going to kill you, tear off that star-saken mask, and riddle you with bullets. You're getting too confident.

He doesn't notice your bullets at first. Protostars trying to act all rough and mighty. There's a temporary cluster of dust, a fraction of a second where his eyes aren't pinning you down. That's all it takes and then you're off. Sinking into the darkness and swimming away, taking his target with you.

It's only after the initial anger wears off that Boothill notices a tear on his thigh. A letter scrawled on the frayed leather of his pants. So you've started leaving your own marks, ay cutie?

He almost wishes he could feel the sting of your blade on his flesh. Feel your nails scrapping along his shoulders as he pins you to the ground.

Boothill fires at the moon.

Next time.

Next time for sure....

He's been chasing you for some time now. But catching up with you isn't as easy as he first thought. Seems like you go wherever the wind takes you and he's too busy with revenge to be following your capricious whims. The IPC ain't going to kill itself you know. And Boothill damn well wishes you'd start sitting still. He's heard from a reliable source that the IPC soldiers are throwing a little get to together down in one of the bars. Just a happy birthday for a colleague, nothing fancy. The thought alone makes his mouth water, place will be crawling with pests just waiting to be gunned down. Maybe tomorrow he'll try looking for you again, but tonight? Tonight's his night.

The neons have dulled now, they never were terribly bright to begin with. Penacony may be the land of dreams but not even dreams can stop reality from seeping through. The bar's loud, some new pop singer's music blasting from every speaker. Boothill downs his drink, liking how the ice cubes chime like a bad omen. He shoots the speakers first, needing some peace to focus on what comes next. The peace corp's lackeys are drunk, they stumble over themselves trying to reach him. He shoots each one like a kid playing carnival games. It's almost too easy...

The door is stampeded over by a heard of reinforcements. Somehow even in his drunken daze one of those yella-bellied lapdogs called for help. They're swarming the place like panicked rats, pushing past tables and chairs. Firearms aimed at his head. And for the first time, in a long, long time, Boothill feels a sliver of panic run down his bionic spine.

Motherfudger...

Boothill hears the familiar tumult of bodies hitting the ground before he sees what's actually going on. He feels you before he actually sees you. You're pushed up against his back, guns drawn locked, and loaded. "Heard you needed some help" Even though you offer your usual bravado, Boothill still picks up the nervous lilt in your voice, despite everything he thinks he likes it. It almost tastes sweet. "Best get away before you get yourself hurt little fox." "And let you have all the fun? Never."

"Certe murmur pugnando" Boothill laughs, he remembers those very words coming from a buddy of his before a duel. 'At least we'll die fighting' Somethings never change, even if you've carved out every principle from your body with a rusted kitchen knife. You'll always have those pesky morals stuck inside. He hears you chuckle, wonders if you find it odd that a rowdy galaxy ranger such as himself knows a dead language.

Well, he knows a lot about the dead.

The shoot-out lasts longer than he'd have expected.

But the real surprise lies in how neither of you are dead. Boothill's half laid across the bar, looking at you from under his hat. You're making him a drink following his instruction like a good little wife, not contradiction dressed in ebony. Gunpowder withers on his tongue, the bullet smoke permeates the air mixing with the gleeful tang of spilled blood. "Your drinks sure are complicated" you mutter pushing him his cup before picking up a bottle and reading its labels. "What's so hard about it pumpkin? Little bit of white gem and gin. All's you need." He sips your drink slowly, savoring your flavor. He imagines he's gulping you down, holding you for ransom behind his teeth, feeling your delicate little fists pounding against him. "I don't drink" you mumble as you sit across from him, you look so damn elegant, like a little princess from a fairy tale he use to read to a certain someone. You drink deeply from your glass of ice and water. Boothill focuses on the gentle motion of your throat. He licks his lips, trying to push down the thought of ringing such a fragile thing between his palms.

"So little lady, s'about time you start answering some questions...The hell you doing? Running off with my targets?" You set your cup down, eyes locking on his, there's the deficiency he's missed all night. The trigger hair that's just waiting for the right push. "They're not your targets...not really. They're just people. People whose planet got muffed up. I've been trying to gather them all in one place." For a second Boothill thinks you're talking about his planet, his home, his people. But it only takes one more look at you to understand.

"So, how'd yours die?" There's shrapnel in his throat when he asks, open wounds bleeding once more, filling his throat with bitter memories.

You stiffen, and he knows he's thumbing a broken bone, letting his finger dig between the cracks and snapping their frail linings. "Don't know, wasn't there. All I ever got to see were a few limbs, nothing enough to make a full person." you squeeze the glass until your knuckles turn white.

There's vindication rooted in your veins.

He knows the feeling all too well.

"We ain't so different you and I, reckon we make a pretty good team." His metal fingers lace between your soft skin, tracing the lifelines like an old map.

There's a goldmine hidden behind your lips, he imagines he'll have to kiss you to find the little nuggets. Your lips part, eyes filled with an odd-looking sympathy. What he wouldn't give to feel your plump lips bleed between his jagged teeth. "So..." you ask as his mechanic heart skips a beat. "What about yours?"

You've been laughing for five whole minutes. Boothill shouldn't find the noise as ethereal as he does. His anger lays heavily on his bones, he should be even angrier, lounging a bullet through your thick skull. But he finds the noise a little too perfect to disturb its source. Even if it's only created at his expense. Instead, he has half a mind to slap you, hard enough to shut you u and another to kiss you so hard you forget to breathe. "Damn hell so funny, cutie"

You look at him with those luminous eyes. Filled with pain and riddles. Boothill never did like solving puzzles. He only likes tearing things into bits. He needs you spartan, easy to read and use, and kiss. Not something he needs to piece together first.

"Dear stars you have no freaking idea how ironic you are." You say between bursts of spiteful-rooted giggles.

Why do those words sound so haunting like a ghost kiss? they should open phantom pains, but they sure as hell don't. Why do you always leave his head spinning? Boothill rolls his eyes, then leans over to pull down your mask. You jerk back, rewarding him with a dark grimace. You're out the window before he can ask your name.

"See you next time, cowboy"

"Next time I'm drawing blood"

The moment's over.

Fiddlesticks..

That night, Boothill dreams of you. He's lying in a stiff musty bed. It's too dark, even the moon is scared of showing her face.

Boothill dreams of the old saloons back home. Of their cracked wooden floorboards and the worn-out plush of chairs. In the dreams, you're wearing a black lace gown, like the saloon girls used to. He finds it all too funny that even in his dreams you still haunt him in black. Only now you're smiling, really smiling. Not that sly smirk, or mirthless grin you gave him back in the bar on Penacony. No, this here is a genuine smile and he's damn sure he's the one who put it there. You reach out for his hand, he feels warmth.

His

Yours

The dream is thick and dense like swimming through molasses. In another scene he's dragging you through the old doors, laughing as bullets and card chips hit the floor. There's a horse waiting outside. His horse. At least he thinks it used to be his. He pulls you up roughly in front of him. He's high off the feeling of his fingers wrapped around the rugged reins. High off the steed he holds in a vice grip between his thighs.

He's riding faster than he's ever ridden before, clambering for the sunset trying to engulf the sun. You hold on tight, pressing your cheek to his chest. His heart is beating something fierce between his ribs. He feels like an Aeon watching the universe collapse under his galloping feet.

He feels alive.

With the sun's rays behind you, Boothill could almost mistake you for the star-dwelling angels Nick used to tell him about. There's something poetic in all of this. The cowboy standing off against the black fox.

Dare he call it cinematic?

Boothill creeps closer. Tilting his hat and watching you flash a nervous smile through his lashes. "Volo sentire te inter dentes meos" so you know that dead tongue too. "You will soon darling, that's what I'm hoping for" his reply only dwindles your smile.

He's missed the old duels. Missed staring into the eyes of the one who could kill you. It's all a matter of skill and luck. Whose faster, who the aeon will trust?

Somewhere in the distance, the tumble weeds begin to rattle.

"Now"

His bullet glides through the air, piercing through the dust and sand. Your bullet reverberates from your gun a fraction too late and ricochets past his cheek. Leaving a juicy trail of blood.

But his bullet was aimed at your chest.

And Boothill never misses...

You want vengeance he won't deny you it.

So long as you stay by his side.

He'll tuck you away somewhere safe.

Somewhere you won't be leaving him again.

Boothill cradles your body to his chest. "I promised you blood little fox, and Boothill never goes back on his word." His cheeks hurt from smiling as he lays his hat atop your head. He's Picking you up and walking into the sunset. He knows a good ol'doc who'll patch you right up. And then it's a happy life together.

Well for him anyway.

The end

Taglist: @hihellomy @salhanskkdbfkekfb @gasoline-eater @sp1cym0chi

[squeakadeeks]

Fabric highlights: Microsuede

I get a lot of questions about material choices, so I thought it would be cool to do little overviews of my favorite materials! (since to be honest, i pretty much just rotate between 3-4 fabric types haha)

Starting with microsuede, my all time favorite and most used material choice. Microsuede is a faux suede made from lots of tiny polyester microfibers split and combined together. its similar in feel to natural suede but distinctly different in its overall fabric drape. It can sometimes have stretch, but usually its a non-stretch fabric. (also not to be confused with microfiber!! mircofiber fabric is similar but its much softer, its the material that cleaning wipes for glasses/screens are used of.)

Some of the advantages of microsuede is its a thick, sturdy fabric. Personally I find it a very friendly fabric due to its thickness and body. Its a great choice if you want something to have some heft to it and structural support. It presses well and can hold folds like the dickens. Its both easy to work with and easy to make a garment that looks nice out of imo. It comes in all kinds of weights from apparel to upholstery. I've personally never used heavy duty, true upholstery weight microsuede so I cant speak much to that, I tend to use microsuedes intended for apparel.

Another great advantage of microsuede is it has an inherent, mottled texture. this is great for making simpler, color blocked designs still have visual interest.

It also takes to adhesives well due to the fuzzier texture, meaning the glues can grisp with more surface area (you just might have to press it in a bit, its still a poly fabric so its not the easiest thing to get hot glue to stick to but by god it can be done).

But microsuede is not a one-size-fits-all fabric. One, the stiffness it has can be a downside if you want a more flowy drape, it would rather fold and crease than flow. Two, its a pain to paint or use HTV on, the fuzzy texture is a downside here. Three, It can also show needle holes if you have to seam rip depending on what you used. You can use a universal needle on microsuede dependings on the weight (I usually do). But its still a thick fabric so be sure not to use too thin of a needle, i also have luck using medium pressure and a walking foot. but all the same ive lost many a needle to microsuede via snapping.

Another thing is personally i find that due to its texture, it looks more homespun and rugged, as such I would hesitate to use it if i wanted a costume to look more regal or formal (i still used it on thistle though lol so its all about the particular use-case)

I source my microsuedes from Big Z primarily (like literally 90% of the time) but I also use fabric wholesale direct, and jo anns, who despite their markups does have some very nice quality suedes, i love their stretch suedes in particular.

I love microsuede. its probably my favorite fabric to use and I will even change my plans on a costume just to use it!

[amandacanwrite]

More Headcanons for the Gale Babes: Pining Edition

Tagging At Their Request: @eclecticqueennerd @jeneralmischief @thewizardhole

Tagging Because I Thought You May Want To Know I posted It: @lewdisescariot @ollypopwrites @rissi-chan @foreskinfinder87

Here are some headcanons about Gale behind the scenes as he pines for you/Tav (Goodnatured, Gender Neutral) Bear with some things that are just regular ole canon for a moment and then I will get into the headcanony stuff near the middle.

Upon Your First Meeting

"I'm Usually better at this." "At Introductions?" "Hah...At magic."

Safe to say that he was well aware of just HOW much trouble he was in very shortly after beginning to travel with you.

The words "Do NOT do this to yourself, you ridiculous, touch-starved man," may or may not have been said to the mirror...or to a mirror double of himself.

But godsdamnit, you just had to continue being...kind and courageous and well spoken and your eyes...and your lips and Focus--FOCUS GALE DEKARIOS

And hells, what a world it would be if he could stop putting his foot so squarely into his mouth.

"Gods, Gale. Really did a number with that thing you said, didn't you? They probably thing you're pompous--which you are--perhaps rightfully so, you are a very gifted wizard..."

He uh...talks to himself a lot. Old habit from the tower, you see. You only catch him doing it a couple of times though, and rarely hear what he said.

"Oh, just thinking out loud, you know!"

Once He's Gotten To Know You A Bit

"Go on, Gale. You're among Friends." "I may just be about to remedy that."

It's hard to pin point the exact moment he fell in love with you. But the realization was nothing short of devastating for him.

As a younger man, he may have been brought to tears reading a tragedy like his. Abandoned by a former lover, forsaken in a plight brought on by wishing to do her a grand gesture, falling for a simpler love...one he may never have because of the orb threatening to level a city in his chest.

Sometimes at night, he watches you asleep in your bedroll, wondering if he had met you as a young man...if he'd perchance seen you on the streets of Waterdeep or sitting at the bar in The Yawning Portal perhaps he'd never wound up in this position in the first place.

Perhaps he would have simply been chosen by Mystra, and not have fallen in love with her.

It feels wrong...even to think it. He wonders if Mystra can sense the betrayal in those thoughts--in the wish that he'd never fallen in love with her.

But it's hard not to feel that way when he has to spend every waking moment next to you.

And when he watches everyone else in camp seemingly falling over themselves to get to you as well.

He makes his peace with the fact that there is simply no way that he can compete with the pale elf who is constantly making eyes at you...calling you darling.

He remembers meeting people like that in school. He remembers burying himself in his studies to distract himself from the fact that he'd never felt particularly charming or even efficacious in matters of the heart.

Of course that all changed when Mystra chose him. Before he'd wooed her, he'd managed to have a few dalliances as a teen, even going into his early adulthood.

But you're the first he's ever wanted to have something with since Mystra had forsaken him.

He still carries the charm he'd cultivated. It's hard not to get at least a little full of yourself when the goddess of magic herself chooses you. Harder still to drop the habit after he'd committed to it, even while sequestered to his tower.

He'd been deep in thought on these matters when you checked in on him one night.

"Nothing to worry about. Just a wizard stewing on matters of the arcane and curious, I assure you."

When he finally has to reveal the truth of his affliction to you and the others in the party, he's devastated all over again. He's ready to once again be banished for his crimes, to be newly punished for his folly, however well intentioned he was in acquiring it.

But...you simply don't... It seems you never do what he expects because you hardly bat an eye. Even when Astarion tells you to kick him to the proverbial curb, you let him stay.

It's that night he conjures the image of Mystra in his hand, turning it this way and that to see if it still hurts to look upon her as it used to.

When you wander over to inquire about her visage, he is relieved to find it doesn't bother him to speak of her, and daunted by the ache in his chest that you seem to inspire in him.

He keeps trying to find a way to tell you how he feels, but he simply can't form the words without choking on them.

Until that night with the teiflings...and well...let's just be honest, the generously flowing alcohol.

He just wants to share a moment with you--a foolish idea to help you experience the weave using him as a conduit. A bit cheeky he realizes--knowing perhaps better than you might the sort of sensual, intimate nature that being connected through the weave can be. But he can't help it, it is the only relief he can find for this torturous pining. To be allowed to be of one mind with you for just a fleeting second is too tempting to refuse.

When You Imagine Sharing A Kiss With Him

"I'm sorry...I wasn't expecting...but it is a pleasant image to be sure. Most pleasant, in fact. Most welcome."

How can he convince himself that he won't immediately ruin this? Does he even remember how to kiss? God's it's been so long.

He lies in his tent, banging the heel of his hand against his forehead.

"You should have just kissed them, you damned fool. How long have you wanted this? And apparently they want it, too. And you were linked with the weave! What could have been more perfect? Why didn't you just kiss them, you blithering idiot."

When he doesn't kiss you for a while, you worry you may have made him uncomfortable with the thought. Really, he simply can't find the perfect time between all of the bloodshed and bandages.

He gets sloppy in battle, too worried that someone will take you way before he has a chance to make good on that dream you shared with him. Not the best course of action for a man who can literally implode in the event that he dies.

And then he had to go and say that stupid thing about danger and...other forms of stimulation.

"Perhaps," he tells himself one night. "Perhaps, Gale of Waterdeep, you will actually make a gesture more than a silly joke and a stammering admission of liking to kiss. Your actions so far have not hinted that you will, but perhaps there is hope for you yet."

In the end it's a night where you're near out of provisions that gives him the opportunity to close this blasted distance betwixt you.

He's having a melt down of sorts. About the lack of decent food in camp. How is he to feed all of you with nothing but a few half-eaten apples and a fish head?

You suggest a walk, not far from camp. You're sure you can scrounge up some berries, or some tubers--maybe even a squirrel or a rabbit. In truth, you're not sure you'll find anything, but you can sense that Gale needs time away. Needs privacy. Needs space to simply feel things without an audience.

After walking in silence for a while you ask him if he's alright.

"No. No I am categorically not alright. Not at all. I am filthy. I am covered in goblin blood. The orb refuses to be sated. I cannot find a way to properly feed you so that you'll have the strength to fight another day. And on top of it all--rounding out the depths of my misery--you so bravely showed me the intimacy you wanted to share, yet I cannot for the life of me figure out how to adequately stage that moment so that it is worthy of the splendor that you are."

It's hard not to be touched by his admission, but you don't want him to be miserable. So you make it easy for him. You simply stride up to him and plant a kiss on his lips.

"Is that better?" you ask him. "Now you needn't fret about the last thing."

His simply...gawks at you. Stares in utter befuddlement, his mouth slightly agape. For a moment, you're certain you've broken the poor wizard. You almost have the urge to wave your hand in front of his face to see if his soul has left his body. Then he smears his hand down his face and groans

"NO," he says. "No it is not better. That is not a proper first kiss worthy of how I feel about you. I can do much better than a first kiss like that."

You remind him that that was technically your first kiss with him. He is welcome to show you how it is properly done.

You expect the slow burn with him--expect him to have to ponder that for a few days, perhaps even a few weeks, before he makes good on it.

But he has had enough of waiting. He drops his bag off to the side and unstraps his bow from his back in a quick flurry of movement. He reaches for you, gently grasping the soft curves of your face and pulling you toward him, claiming your mouth with his own.

It is a frantic, desperate thing, this kiss. Simultaneously overwhelming and buoyant. You find yourself lifting up onto your toes and leaning against him as he tilts his head, seeking some opening to taste you, to feel you on his lips.

Your knees buckle, and his hands move from your face to catch you, crushing you against him as if he wishes to match every curve of you to every corresponding curve of his own body.

His lips are soft, though they are posessive. When you finally allow him across the threshold of your lips, he tastes like that fragment of weave you shared with him. He tastes of pure connection.

And then, just like that moment, it is over. You're left panting and weak as he holds you against his chest, his face flush, his brow gently curved with worry.

You blink dreamily up at him. "Oh." you say.

"'Oh?'" he asks incredulously. "Please tell me you have more to say than 'Oh.' Or at least specify the quality of that 'Oh.' Hells, if I'm to get any sleep at all--"

You simply lift your fingers to his lips, pressing the tips to quiet him. "Consider me properly schooled in how it's meant to be done," you say. "You're an excellent teacher."

He heaves a sigh. "Oh," he says. "I know."

I hope you enjoyed this! I'm sorry if it's not as satisfying since it's a lot of like...subtext for canon things. I have more Ideas but this is already quite long. Do let me know if you would still like to see more or if you have anything you'd like to see or expand on with an actual small fic. I have been having so much fun with these.

[anim-ttrpgs]

Eureka is an absolute masterpiece of a ttrpg with so much thought and care put into it. I really can't say enough good things about it. I do want to know if you have made/plan to make any other ttrpgs? I would love to see more genres besides supernatural urban mystery from you because of how quality your work is (but it's completely understandable if you have no plans to do other things).

Thank you! It’s taken us years to refine Eureka’s rules to this level of polish, and I do think it shows! A warning to all other aspiring TTRPG designers, though, don’t make your first project something this big! Keep it short! Not “one page rules” type of short, but don’t be like us and make your first real project a full-on trad TTRPG with this many different moving parts.

If you have aspirations to make something as crunchy and fleshed-out as Eureka, maybe try to execute the concept in a more simpler “OSR” style, and then after you’ve gotten more experience under your belt, maybe made some money and/or gotten a team together, then maybe try that concept again with more crunch. Call it “Advanced [Your Earlier Game Title]”

As for the future of A.N.I.M., we are planning to continually release adventure modules for Eureka, and probably also add-ons like extra Traits, Monster Traits, etc. I would love to include some playable monsters from cultures outside “the west” too, but I wouldn’t want to half-ass them, I’d want to give them as much research, attention detail and themes, etc. that I’ve given to all the other monsters. That’s just a lot harder when the best sources aren’t always in English.

Speaking of shorter games, I already wrote a little tiny game on the side called Edge Hedge Arena.

This is a game where you google “[Your Name] the Hedgehog”, choose one of the many Sonic OCs that are likely to come up, then give them stats and battle them against those of other players using the rules provided.

Since I basically have no more rules to write for Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy and I’m mostly just waiting for other members of the team to finish working on their parts, I’ve partially moved on to working on A.N.I.M.’s next big game, too!

We’ve learned our lesson, it’s not going to be anywhere near the page count or crunch level of Eureka, even though you know I love crunchy games. Well, actually, it’s probably only slightly less crunchy than Eureka, but it’s about much more specific scenarios, so it’ll still overall have less mechanics. The scope is much smaller.

This is a dark comedy/satire game that kind of takes the Forgotten Realms “evil sexy matriarchal bdsm slavery society ruled by warriors who fight in lingerie” dark elf concept and asks the question of “What kind of society and circumstances would actually produce this?” (Though it doesn’t actually take place in Forgotten Realms or any other D&D setting)

And then makes the comparison to 20th and 21st century American capitalism. “No, these aren’t slaves, they aren’t chained up and are allowed to leave any time they want. But they only get food so long as they keep working, and if they disobey then can get beaten.” It started out as a joke, but we are probably going to add "media literacy" to the list of requirements alongside dice and stuff hahaha, like, the ability to understand that the world of this game is not supposed to represent the author's idea of a perfect society. We might add that to Eureka too.

Silk&Dagger is about class, gender roles, different ways that forced labor can manifest in a society, and most importantly surviving all of those things.

Going forward to understand what I’m saying you have to know that in this setting, “Drow” is a title, referring to the ruling warrior caste. Most Drow are dark elves, but not all dark elves are Drow. This society is structured a bit like ancient Sparta, with a very small ruling caste of warriors, and a very large servant caste. Social mobility between these castes is possible, but rather than getting into it in detail and making this post super long, let’s just say that many servants consider themselves temporarily embarrassed Drow.

A typical “party” in Silk&Dagger is will consist of one Drow PC and any number of servant PCs working for her. There are regular chores that need to be done around the palace, which provide challenges, but scenarios will also throw major issues into the mix.

A Drow’s Reputation is everything, if the Drow PC’s Reputation stat reaches 0, that is the failure state for the entire party, because it basically means no more food. (Even the servants, for lore reasons that I also won’t get into)

So a typical scenario will be like “Somebody very important is coming to visit, but the lower floor of the palace is starting to flood for an unknown reason.” We’re going to have multi-part tables where you can randomly generate these, but we will also have more in-depth adventure modules for it in the future.

We ran a playtest the other day basically based on this scenario. The intended comedy of the game really came out as we kept switching perspectives, with the Drow upstairs having to constantly come up with new ways to impress her guests and explain away that splashing sound while the servant worked down below trying to find and plug the leak.

So, the PCs will have to deal with all that while also making sure that all the chores get done, and the kicker is, they can’t easily communicate with each other. The massive gulf between the two castes is the real enemy here, along with the behavioral expectations placed on each.

They could’ve gotten a head start on dealing with the flooding if the servant had had permission to speak earlier and could’ve told the Drow that the lower floor is flooding, but

There’s a big list of behaviors that a servant has to fulfill when interacting with a Drow, which are basically designed to be impossible to follow and just get them in trouble, and a Drow who doesn’t strictly enforce this etiquette risks losing Reputation for it.

On the other side, Drow also have to constantly embody a list of six features, which basically means acting as evil as possible, their Reputation depends on it.

One other unique feature of Silk&Dagger is that it is a two-GM game. One GM does most of the normal GM stuff, while the other GM represents the ever-present societal expectations weighing on all the characters, subtracting Reputation points and important things every time the PCs do something that makes them look bad in the eyes of this society.

There may come times where PCs will just have to take the hit to get things done, or find clever ways to make it look like they’re upholding the status quo while secretly treating each other like equals when nobody’s looking.

You can expect, like, an alpha or beta version of this game to come to the patreon in probably January or February, and maybe even itchio if it is far along enough by then. It was actually supposed to be out on the patreon in December, but some personal issues and illnesses really held it up. I am really going to try and make it less than 200 pages.

I'll end the post with one of my favorite little bits from the setting/lore. One of the reasons that Drow dress like that is because it helps them identify each other by thermal vision in the pitch black tunnels. Unique patterns of covered and uncovered skin serve as a sort of personal heraldry.

Elegantly designed and thoroughly playtested, Eureka represents the culmination of three years of near-daily work from our team, as well as a lot of our own money. If you’re just now reading this and learning about Eureka for the first time, you missed the crowdfunding window unfortunately, but you can still check out the public beta on itch.io to learn more about what Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy actually is, as that is where we have all the fancy art assets, the animated trailer, links to video reviews by podcasts and youtubers, etc.!

You can also follow updates on our Kickstarter page where we post regular updates on the status of our progress finishing the game and getting it ready for final release.

Beta Copies through the Patreon

If you want more, you can download regularly updated playable beta versions of Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy earlier, plus extra content such as adventure modules by subscribing to our Patreon at the $5 tier or higher. Subscribing to our patreon also grants you access to our patreon discord server where you can talk to us directly and offer valuable feedback on our progress and projects.

The A.N.I.M. TTRPG Book Club

If you would like to meet the A.N.I.M. team and even have a chance to play Eureka with us, you can join the A.N.I.M. TTRPG Book Club discord server. It’s also just a great place to talk and discuss TTRPGs, so there is no schedule obligation, but the main purpose of it is to nominate, vote on, then read, discuss, and play different indie TTRPGs. We put playgroups together based on scheduling compatibility, so it’s all extremely flexible. This is a free discord server, separate from our patreon exclusive one. https://discord.gg/7jdP8FBPes

Other Stuff

We also have a ko-fi and merchandise if you just wanna give us more money for any reason.

We hope to see you there, and that you will help our dreams come true and launch our careers as indie TTRPG developers with a bang by getting us to our base goal and blowing those stretch goals out of the water, and fight back against WotC's monopoly on the entire hobby. Wish us luck.

[seeingivy]

narc

actor!eren x reader

**part of my method acting series

--

When you open the cabinet and pull out the box of chamomile tea, there’s a note with Eren’s distinct handwriting scribbled across it. 

Boil the water for six minutes.  Add one teaspoon of the dried flowers.  Let it sit for five minutes and then strain them out.  I usually add half a teaspoon of honey to sweeten it up for you :) 

You can’t help but look up at the frame on the left – a picture of you, Marco, Maya, and Eren – with the godawful cake he got you guys last year. 

Happy New Year Birthday Anniversary 4 

It seemed that too many big things coincided on the first day of the year. Marco and Maya’s birthday, you and Eren’s anniversary, the start of the new year – so much so that Eren decided that they all deserved one big cake together. 

You rub at your tired eyes, lazily smiling at the post-it as you pull it off the top of the box, and stick it back onto the counter. It’s a quiet solace, seeing his handwriting every time you pull the box out and you can’t bring yourself to throw it away. 

You think it’s a little silly that at your very big age, Eren left you instructions on how to make tea. Sometimes it just makes you miss him more. 

You follow Eren’s quick instructions – his recent absence making you realize just how much it is that he does around the house – and open up your phone to see his location. 

He’s gone, still two thousand something miles away in California, at the hospital. You count the hours backwards, realizing that it’s probably midnight his time so he must be fast asleep and decide against calling him. 

You lean against the counter, your neck still slick from the cold sweat you woke up in, as you recount flashes of the dream you’ve been having for the past three nights. 

The dark freeway, a long white truck, and a blaring horn. 

The kettle clicks shut and you pour the water into the cup, watching the dried flowers seep a golden color to the liquid as you let it sit underneath the coaster. It must have been the pouring of the water, because you entirely miss the pitter patter of tiny footsteps – meaning, it catches you completely off guard when Marco’s wrapping his arm around your leg. 

“Can I have some?” 

You almost drop the kettle, your heart immediately racing from the shock of his presence, as you set it down, taking the few seconds to catch your breath. 

“Sorry. Did I scare you again, Mom?” he asks. 

You sigh, reaching down to lift him up onto the counter. 

“No, Marco. I was just distracted, honey, that’s all.” you respond. 

Marco gives you a distracted nod, messy brown hair and dull green eyes looking down at your cup, as he fiddles with his hands in his lap. Just like Eren. You reach forward, brushing through the tangles in his hair as you eye the clock. 

“What are you doing up?” 

“I thought you were Dad.” he responds.

You sigh, giving him a joking glare, before reaching forward to pinch his cheek. 

“I’m sorry to disappoint you, little man.” 

Marco gives you a smile, as you reach for the closest cabinet, and pull out the plastic glasses to pour some milk into. You set it to warm on the kettle, as you pour the honey into your cup, and swirl the spoon around. 

“Do you know when he’ll be back? Dad?” Marco asks. 

You pause. 

No. You don’t. 

“It’ll be soon, I’m sure of it. He’s just waiting to make sure that Uncle Connie’s perfectly set up before he comes back.” 

That was a half lie. Though, you found that you had to do that often – lie about things that were too difficult to explain to the two of them. 

Things that were too complicated, and more often than not, things you just wanted to protect them from. 

That they were just too little to know about. 

Marco and Maya asked you how their namesake, the real Marco died. It was easier to tell them that it was just a car accident, not intentional in how it occurred. They asked you why Eren had a bunch of faded lines on his back when you went swimming in the pool; it was just simpler to tell them that it was a birthmark. 

They asked who Teddy’s real father was and told him that it was Sukuna. Though that one wasn’t entirely a lie. But you know what they were trying to ask. 

And just two days ago, Maya asked you if her Uncle Connie was going to die. You told her that he was just getting a checkup, but that was the farthest thing from the truth. 

Years after the fact, it seemed that the poison that Connie was putting into his body had finally caught up to him – with not only one, but two defective kidneys. And after three years on the waiting list, by some horrible twist of fate for someone else but luck for all of you, Connie was finally getting his transplant. 

That was almost three weeks ago. He’s still recovering from the surgery – having taken a whole week to wake up, another one to sit up, and now trying to walk the corridor at the ward he was in. 

You had to let Eren go. You knew that he was going to be apart from you and the kids at some point and figured that this was the best time to get over that fear of being away from him, in the soft little bubble you’ve created for yourself. 

You shake the thought from your head – of Connie sitting there, frail and alone the last time you talked to him, since visiting hours were well over – and pour the milk into the cup. You hand it over to Marco, placing the cup securely in his hands, as you try to quiet the thoughts racing through your mind. 

Five things you can see. Four things you can touch, three you can hear, two you can smell, and one you can feel. 

Eren had whispered it to you when you dropped him off at the airport, a quiet thing he did to manage his own stress. 

“What are you thinking about?” Marco asks. 

You sigh, turning over to him, and giving him a smile. 

“Five things I can see.” you respond. 

Marco was well aware of the habit. He tended to be a little more sensitive which was worrying at first – but Zeke said that it was just something that he got from Eren. That he acted exactly like he did when he was a kid. 

“I can see you. And me. The cups. And two lightbulbs.” Marco responds. 

You smile. 

“I can touch the floor with my feet. And the back of the counter with my back. The cup with my hands. And your cheek with my fingers.” you respond, reaching forward to poke at the softness of his cheek. 

Marco returns the favor, giggling under his breath as he reaches forward, tiny fingers squishing at your skin. He absentmindedly leans forward, pressing a wet kiss to your cheek, before he continues. 

He was every bit as affectionate as Eren. 

“I can hear you. And me. And Maya sleeping.” 

“You can’t hear Maya sleeping from here, Marco.” 

“Yeah, I can. She’s all snotty at night.” 

“Honey, those are her allergies. She can’t control that.” you respond. 

If Marco acted like Eren did as a kid, then Maya was every bit a carbon copy of you. It was something that Falco and Colt parroted constantly – the biggest fans of all her little at home concerts, her fashion shows, and most of all, her singing. 

It seems that she got the seasonal allergies too. 

“I can smell your drink and my drink.” you respond, as you down the very last bit of your cup. 

Marco seems to follow suit, draining the last of the milk from the cup before he leans forward, short arms barely wrapping around your neck as you scoop him up into your arms. The time must have caught up to him, eyes quickly lidding shut, as you switch off the lights, and lead him back to his room. 

He whispers one last thing before you tuck him into bed. 

“I can feel you here with me.” 

It’s enough to put your mind at rest to go to sleep. 

--

The doorbell rings early the next morning – at seven on the dot – and sends Marco and Maya tumbling down the stairs, their little footsteps thundering as you open up the door to Lana, Sukuna, Teddy, and Grace.  

You turn your head over your shoulder, watching as Marco and Maya’s faces drop at the sight of them, and subsequently watch them drag themselves over to the dining table. 

“Is that anyway to say hello?” Sukuna asks, chest puffed up from the clear dismissal from the both of them – which albeit, is a rare occurrence.  

Sukuna marches straight through the doorway, Lana giving you a warning glance, as you watch him hunch over the chairs – his head hanging in between Marco and Maya’s – as he gives the two of them a little glare. 

“Angie. Are you not excited to see me?” 

Angie. Sukuna’s special nickname for Maya. 

“I thought you were Eren.” Maya responds. 

“I wish he was.” Gracie mumbles, earning her a glare from Sukuna. 

It worked out well enough. Eren was Gracie’s favorite, but Sukuna was Maya’s. Naturally it irritated the both of them well enough. 

You sigh, opening your arms up to the hug that Teddy’s offering you – which Grace piles on to – as you shoot her a warning glance. 

“Maya. You’re supposed to call him Dad.” you chide. 

“But you call him Eren.” she retorts back. 

“Yeah. Because he’s not my dad. He’s just Eren to me.” you respond. 

That earns you a laugh from Teddy, as he lets go and starts passing out the plates, with Lana helping you finish making the breakfast from the kitchen. 

“How are you holding up?” she asks. 

“Yeah, yeah. Same old. Did you talk to Connie at all today?” 

You watch as Lana frowns, which sends an immediate pang to your chest. 

Eren’s contingency plan on leaving you alone – since the three of you couldn’t possibly go with him – was making sure that you were taken care of. Which included him sending Lana and Sukuna over everyday for breakfast, just so you didn’t feel lonely. 

You guys tended to get fickle with how often you’d eat breakfast together – aiming for at least once a week – but you know Eren must have said something because they were here almost every other day. 

“Think he’s doing better.” Lana responds. 

You sigh. 

“Did you talk to Eren?” 

“Yeah.” 

Eren doesn’t seem like he’s fairing well either. But you figured as much – that it would be hard for him to see Connie in this condition, because the smallest voice in his head told him that it was all his fault. 

“I feel like he’s scared to let him go. He’s…he’s scared he’s going to die while he’s not looking.” you add. 

Lana nods. 

“He could have come back a week ago. Maryam was fine handling it but I just think he…but you know how he is with Connie. They’re like brothers.” 

You hum in response. Lana leans forward, resting her head against your shoulder, as you lean into the touch. 

“You’re better than me. I feel like I’d be ten different levels of crazy if Sukuna and Teddy weren’t telling me not to worry about him.” Lana responds. 

You shrug. 

“It’s fine for the most part. Marco and Maya keep me busy. Levi calls me everyday just to update me on his lawn mowing, which takes like four hours alone. It’s all fine, I just…keep having this really weird dream.” 

“Really?” she asks. 

“I don’t know. I don’t really remember the details. All I know is that…that I’m driving a car. There’s a honking sound and then a big truck that cuts me off and makes me crash. But for some reason, I feel like…I feel like I know the person driving the truck. Like they’re…they’re making fun of me or laughing or something.”

You watch as Lana squints her eyes at you, her touch suddenly stiff, as you give her a look. 

“What?” 

“Nothing. That is weird. But it’s just a dream.” Lana responds. 

“I mean, I know. But I just…I don’t get dreams. Let alone recurring ones. I feel like I know the person or…or something about it just feels really familiar that’s all. I wake up every night just thinking about it, trying to remember what it is that I saw.” 

Lana picks up the spoon, plating the last of the eggs into the dish, as she gives you a wary look over her shoulder. 

“Stress manifests in different ways. I think this Connie thing is just stressful. Being without Eren with the kids is stressful. I don’t think it means anything.” she adds. 

Lana leans forward, pressing a kiss against your cheek, before lifting the plates, gesturing for you to follow as you take them over to the table. You take your seat next to Sukuna – who’s clearly won over Maya in the past few minutes that you were gone – as you sit next to Grace. 

“I like the ribbon, Gracie.” 

“I’m glad you said that. I made one for you too.” 

Lana taught Gracie how to sow, meaning that every time she came over, she left a few more ribbons for your collection. You rarely wore them anymore, but it was nice to keep all the gifts Gracie made for you – pink lace, little charms in the fabric. 

There’s immediate chatter the second everyone’s hands start moving – Sukuna and Maya whispering under their breaths, Teddy, Lana, and Marco talking about the recent soccer game – and the only thing you can think about is how the chair next to you is empty. 

That Eren would have been here asking Teddy about when his spelling bee is so he could go. And that he’d cut Maya’s fruits into stars with Sukuna just because she likes them that way. 

“Do you miss Eren?” 

You lean forward, placing your hand on Grace’s shoulder, as you give her a smile. 

“Just a little, Gracie. But that’s normal.” you respond. 

“He’ll be back soon enough. And Falco and Gabi should be back next week, so…we’ll have more people at breakfast. We’ll have to start ordering chairs for how many of us there are.” 

You laugh. 

“That’s a good problem to have.” 

You can’t help but think that three blocks down, only a few years prior, Eren, Lana, and Teddy used to eat breakfast together every morning, because that’s all they had. And now you barely had enough seats to fill the table. 

You think about how it would kill you if Connie never came back to eat breakfast with you guys. 

“Y/N. Can you help me practice for the spelling bee tomorrow?” Teddy asks. 

You smile. 

“Of course, Teddy Bear.” 

Teddy curls his nose in disgust. 

“Y/N. Don’t call me that. It’s not cool.” he murmurs. 

The older Teddy gets, the more he seems to curl his nose at all of the sweet nicknames you all have for him. He barely lets Eren hug him anymore, instead trying to make weird over complicated handshakes – that Eren can obviously never remember. 

Your phone buzzes on the table to four texts from Eren. 

[eren]: connie made a very obscure pop culture reference today that honestly kind of freaked out his VERY old nurse

[eren]: it was giving ** erwin ** 

[eren]: the world is healing 

[eren]: i miss you! 

--

You appreciate the routine of things. That every night, you comb through Maya and Marco’s wet hair, that you all brush your teeth together, and that you all read a story together before you go to sleep. 

“I have a question.” 

You close the little book – an old version of Goodnight Moon that Jean and Mikasa gifted you when Marco and Maya were born – and slide it into the shelf. 

“Do share, Miss Maya.” you respond. 

That’s what Eren always calls her. Miss Maya. 

“How did you spend so much time away from Eren?” Maya asks.

“Maya.” you berate. 

“Sorry. Dad. How did you spend so much time away from Dad? Like before when you were little?” she asks. 

You pause. 

“What do you mean?” 

“It’s only been a few weeks and…and I miss him.” Maya mumbles, the tiniest crack in her voice. 

You can feel your chest ache as you lean forward, wrapping your arms around her little body as she leans up, her salty tears spilling straight onto your neck. 

“Oh, Maya.” you coo. 

“I know he’s gone for a good reason and I’m not mad at him. I’m sad about Uncle Connie too but I just wish he was here. And Uncle Connie was too.” she responds, voice muffled by how she’s burying her face into your shirt. 

It’s not even a few seconds before you hear another set of sniffling, only to find Marco getting out of his bed and clinging to your side too. 

You can’t help it – you can’t help that there’s warm tears in your eyes too as you rest your head against their freshly shampooed hair, and hold them tight. 

You sit there quietly for some time – Marco and Maya’s tears subsiding long before yours – but they make no inclination of letting go. You appreciate that. And it’s not long before they fall asleep, before you tuck them into their sheets, and wipe your own tears before going to bed.

The pictures of Connie on the wall feel like they’re mocking you. 

And like clockwork, it happens again. 

A cold sweat down your back – because the truck almost hits you, because you swear you can hear laughing, and a clicking sound that you can’t really place. You’re barely asleep for two hours. 

You make a mental note. That the clicking sound is new, but you still can’t really remember much besides that. Only that it’s really dark. 

When you make it down to the kitchen, you find Marco hunched over, with Maya on his back. You can’t help but laugh – only because this reminds you of Colt – and watch them for a second before interrupting. 

“Push higher.” 

“I’m trying to, you’re too heavy, Maya.” 

“I can’t reach the cups from here.” 

“Okay, okay. I’m trying. That’s easy to say from down there.” 

You flick the last of the lights open – the ones they can’t reach – as they both turn around, Maya nearly toppling off his back – as you put your hands on your hips. 

“You want my help?” 

“Please.” Maya groans. 

Maya rubs the sore spot on her back, giving you a quiet nod as Marco moves over, and you reach for the cups. The two of them drain their cups of milk the second you fill them – clearly overexerted from the rhythmic gymnastics they were attempting a few minutes ago – as you nurse the cup of chamomile in your hand. 

“You know, this is way better when Eren makes it.” Maya states. 

You roll your eyes. 

“Dad.” 

“It’s too bitter when you do it.” 

You shake your head at Maya, reaching forward to pinch her cheek before responding. 

“My apologies, Miss Maya. I’ll call him tomorrow and ask him what he puts in yours. Knowing him, he does something different for each of us to make sure that we like it.” you respond. 

So quick to accommodate, an endless amount of space in his mind to remember everything – Maya wears ribbons on Thursdays, she doesn’t like the purple ones. Marco likes to read Goodnight Moon in the winter, not the summer, because the bunny reminds him of snow. 

The light in the doorway flicks on, accompanied by a very tired looking Eren, who gives you a very weak smile through the dim light.

“I put honey in Maya’s because she thinks it’s bitter, sweetheart. Only half a teaspoon, because then she gets kind of antsy.” Eren mumbles. 

You turn to your left and watch as Maya and Marco both try to tumble off the counter, excited giggles as they run over to Eren, clinging on to the fabric of his shirt as they basically scream in his ear. 

You can feel warm tears burning in the back of your eyes as Eren leans down, arms wrapped around the two of them, as he seems to breathe a sigh of relief – nestling his head in between the two of theirs. 

You’re almost positive that he missed them more than they missed him.

Which was saying something. 

“Hi M&M.” Eren mumbles. 

Their favorite candy. For obvious reasons. 

“You too, sweetheart. Come here.” Maya adds, extending out one of her hands to you. 

You swallow down the burning feeling in your throat, taking one last look up to dry your tears, before crouching down on the ground with them, Eren’s hand being the one that wraps around you first. 

“Maya. It’s Mommy. Not sweetheart.” Eren chides. 

You can’t help but laugh – remembering that it was only a few months ago that Maya realized that your name wasn’t actually sweetheart, that it was just a nickname that Eren used for you – as you lean your temple against his. 

“Okay, it’s really late. Dad’s going to tuck you into bed, okay?” you respond. 

Marco and Maya give you an affirmative nod, as Eren scoops both of them up into an arm each – something you’re too weak to do at this point – as you watch them all trail down the hallway. 

“Did you miss me?” Eren asks. 

“So much. We even cried about it earlier!” Marco responds. 

Eren immediately frowns as he kicks his shoes off at the door, quietly padding into the darkness of their room. Lana’s phone call was very brief – only warning him about the weird dreams you were having – but he didn’t realize that they were feeling it too. 

Eren sets them both down, reaching for Maya first as he tucks the sheets in around her. 

“Buddy, what do you mean by that? You cried about it earlier?” Eren asks, glancing over his shoulder. 

“We all miss you so much we cried. Even sweetheart.” Maya responds. 

Eren doesn’t take the time to correct her. He reaches down, pressing a kiss to Maya’s forehead, before brushing through the flyaways around her head. 

“She did?” 

“Mhm. Longer than me and Marco too. I heard Auntie Lana say it’s because she’s having weird dreams about Marco. You know, the other Marco. The one who died.” 

Eren nods. It’s the only reason that he was able to bring himself home and leave Connie. Only because he didn’t realize how fast time had passed. 

“I know the one.” 

“She’s okay though. She told me herself.” Maya adds. 

Eren sighs. 

“I know she is.” 

Eren switches over to Marco’s side which makes his chest pang a little bit more – the seeping ache of being gone for so long, to be at his side – making his throat burn. 

“Everything good, Marco?” 

It’s at that second that Marco jumps out of his sheets, little arms wrapped around his neck, as Eren sinks against his shoulder. 

“Is Uncle Connie okay?” 

Eren smiles. 

“He went home last night, Marco. He’s going to be just fine.” Eren responds. 

Marco gives him a nod, before lying back down against the sheets. 

“I heard Uncle Sukuna say that Mommy was just scared that he was going to die. He’s not going to die, right?” 

Eren makes a mental note to call Lana and Sukuna tomorrow and ask them to refrain from gossiping until they get home.  

“He’s not going to die, Marco. He’ll call you tomorrow, okay? Connie really missed you both.” 

Marco gives him a nod, Eren pressing one last lingering kiss to his forehead, before padding out of the room and flicking the light shut. Eren shuffles back out to the kitchen, noting the open packet of ramen on the counter, as he leans forward, wrapping his arms around your frame. 

He’d deal with them in the morning. You first. 

Eren can’t help but nestle into the crook in your shoulder – and noting that you immediately flinch at the feeling. 

“Sorry. I meant to shave before I got back. I know it tickles.” Eren whispers. 

You laugh. 

“S’okay. I’ll help you tomorrow, Eren.” you mumble. 

Eren leans down, breathing in the sweet smell of your shampoo and soap mixed in, as he leans his cheek against yours. 

Eren ranked all the moments in his head. Sweet memories that felt like lightbulbs to him – the way they stuck out in his memory – but he always had his favorites. 

Watching Maya play the piano. Teaching Marco how to take polaroids of you and Maya. Marco meeting Armin and Maya telling Jean his haircut sucked. 

And his personal favorite was letting his beard grow out just to the point where it annoyed you – just so you’d offer to shave it for him. Attentive fingers, eyes focused and without fail, a sweet kiss and a hug at the end for his clean shaven face. 

It was one of the things that was always promised. That you’d complain, that he’d pretend to hate it when you shaved his beard, and that you’d kiss him afterwards. That you’d taste like toothpaste because you just brushed your teeth and then go to sleep next to him after the fact. 

Eren can’t help but squeeze harder. 

“You know, you’ll cut off my circulation any second now.” 

“Any reason you didn’t come running at me?” Eren asks. 

“The little speedsters beat me to it. They missed you a lot, you know?” you respond. 

Eren laughs. 

“Not as much as you.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

Eren shrugs. It takes you three seconds to clock it, before you roll your eyes. 

Of course they told him that you cried earlier. 

“Who was the narc?” 

“There was no narc. I just know how to read you really well.” Eren responds

“Eren.” 

“A gentleman never tells.” 

“I know they both told you. I just want to know who did it first.” you clarify. 

Eren smiles. 

“Marco, of course.” 

You laugh. 

“He’s really living up to the name. The only narc bigger than him was the other Marco.” 

Telling Jean when Mikasa was upset at him. Telling Connie that Sasha forgot his birthday. 

You feel Eren lift off of you, two hands firm on your shoulder, as he drags you closer to him. It’s warm hands that cup your face and it’s only then that you notice that his green eyes are rimmed with red and that he looks tired. 

“I missed you too, you know?” Eren whispers. 

You smile. 

“I know.” 

“You can just ask Maryam. I even cried about it.” 

You snort, the tiniest wave of embarrassment peeling off of you, as you lean forward, wrapping your hands around his face. 

“Really?” 

“You already know that I’m already of the opinion that I’ve spent far too much of my life without you. That includes two weeks in California, Y/N.” Eren responds, voice soft. 

You lean forward, pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

“How’s Connie?” you ask. 

Eren smiles. 

“He brought a framed picture of all of us from our wedding to the hospital room. He’s been fine this entire time.” 

You snort. 

“Typical.” 

Eren laughs. 

“He told the nurse you were his sister when she asked about the picture. So much so that they were ready to add you to his health documents and start screening you for blood diseases or some shit because he thought you were actually related.” 

You both laugh. And you relish in the fact that Connie was still there, underneath his beaten body. 

“Teddy is coming tomorrow for spelling bee practice. Gracie gave me two new ribbons – pink and purple with lace – and Maya wasn’t even excited to see Sukuna yesterday.” you state. 

Eren’s eyes light up. 

“Really?” 

“Hold your horses, Eren. It took her two seconds before she was happy to see him again.” 

Eren rolls his eyes. 

“Well, Gracie’s coming tomorrow, so he can kiss my ass. And Falco too in a few days and you know I’m obviously his favorite.” Eren asks. 

You shake your head at him. Always trying to one up Sukuna – something that was natural, since they were both so good with kids. 

“You know, I didn’t even realize how big our family got before our eyes.” you whisper. 

Eren smiles, before leaning forward, and closing the space between the two of you. He tastes like the remnants of the cookie – dusted sugar and coffee – hanging on his lips. 

“Sometimes I forget I used to dream about this entire thing. Being away kind of reminded me of that.”  Eren whispers. 

“This entire thing?” 

“You and me, the most. But also friends that live a few streets away. Teddy feeling like he has cousins and…and having kids.” 

You smile. 

“You know your kids adore you, right? 

Eren smiles. 

“They just have a recency bias. They love you way more than me.” 

You roll your eyes. 

“I don’t make their milk right.” 

Eren pinches your cheek. 

“And I don’t do Maya’s hair the way she likes it or make Marco’s bed properly. Same thing.” 

You smile.. 

“They love us both. We’re both very lucky to have two healthy kids and a family that’s…that’s mostly healthy, that’s all together.” 

Eren pauses, a light glisten in his eyes. You can tell that he doesn’t feel that. 

“Eren?” 

“Tell me about this dream of yours.” he mumbles. 

You groan. 

“Lana?” 

“Technically Maya mentioned it too.” Eren adds. 

You smile. 

“It’s just a weird dream that I’ve been having. S’always dark and I’m driving. There’s a horn and clicking and I just wake up feeling all frazzled. I think I was just worrying about Connie too much.” you respond. 

Eren shrugs. 

“Maybe.” 

“You don’t sound very convinced.” you state.

Eren sighs, scooching over as he leans towards the bowl of simmering noodles, straining them into the bowl that you have placed at the side. You can’t help but lean against his arm, Eren absentmindedly placing a kiss in your hair, as you watch the steam. 

“Did you know that Maryam drove me to the hospital everyday to see Connie?” 

You snort. 

“Do you have no concern for your life? You are a father now, you know?” 

You’re half convinced that Maryam hypnotized someone to get her license at the DMV. Or that she somehow became legally blind the few minutes that she sat behind the wheel. 

“I mean, I do. But I just couldn’t bring myself to drive.” 

You pause. 

“Really?” 

“Yeah. I would just sit in the chair and get all…all anxious just sitting there. I couldn’t even put the key in the engine.” 

You lean forward, rubbing your hands up and down his biceps. 

“Any reason why?” you ask. 

Eren signs, before leaning forward, with his eyes focused on the calendar. 

“You know, you always forget to change the calendar.” 

“I don’t really look at it.” you state. 

Eren leans forward, switching the page from last month to the current one, which is when you notice it. 

That it’s June. That it’s been June for a few days now and that you didn’t even keep track of the numbers. 

“When did your dream start?” Eren asks. 

You get it now. 

“Four days ago.” you state, throat dry. 

Eren gives you a halfhearted smile, as he counts backwards, all the way to June 11th. 

The day that Marco died. And you didn’t even realize. That you went about your business that day – taking Maya to piano, dropping off Teddy at school – and you didn’t even think about it. 

“Oh my god, Eren.” you mumble. 

“That’s when I couldn’t drive. I…I didn’t necessarily remember, but…but it just felt wrong.” 

“I forgot.” you whisper. 

“So did I.” Eren responds. 

You feel the tears burn out of your sockets as you realize – realize that Marco’s death anniversary passed and you forgot, that you were already in the early hours of his birthday and you didn’t remember – and that time was passing so fast you can’t even remember what he looks like anymore. 

You can’t help but lean forward, wracking quiet tears into Eren’s shoulder, as you realize the dream. The clicking sounds were camera flashes, the car cuts you off and you crash, and you feel like you know them, because the paparazzi always seem familiar to you. 

You were dreaming about Marco dying. From Marco’s perspective. And Eren can’t get in the car, because he’s petrified it’s going to happen to him. 

The thought crosses your mind that Eren rushed back so fast – so fast because he was worried about you. 

Not because of the dream, but because of that day. Because when Lana told him that Marco died – she didn’t specify his name. And his first thought was you – he thought you were the one who died. 

He was always reminded of it, that feeling, whenever the day came around. The fear of you dying. You wonder if it crossed his mind a few days ago. 

Eren lets go, shuffling behind you to rummaging through the fridge. 

“Anything close to cake?” 

“There should be a cookie or two. Maybe at the top.” you mumble. 

Eren slams the door shut behind you, as you reach for the drawer on the left, pulling out the colored flame candles from Grace’s surprise birthday, as Eren joins you at your side, plating the cookie in the center. 

You jam the wax candle into the center, Eren quick with the matches at your side as you watch the flame light up purple, and the two of you lean closer to the warmth. 

It was the one tradition that you and Eren afforded yourself. That every year on Marco’s birthday, you made a wish for him. And after the fact, you wouldn’t reminisce on it at all – not unless it was happy. 

It’s what he would have wanted. 

“You first, Eren.” 

Eren sighs. 

“I wish you were still here with us. But I hope you’re happy wherever you are, Marco.” 

Eren’s wish is the same every year. 

You smile, leaning your head against Eren’s shoulder. 

“I know you told us you’d haunt us if we ever apart, but I didn’t realize that applied to domestic travel, Marco.” 

Eren gives you a teary laugh. 

“I hope you’re resting easy, wherever you are. Come visit me in my dreams the good way. Keep all the bad stuff away.” you mumble.

You and Eren give each other a look, before lightly blowing out the candles together, and wrapping yourselves in each other’s embrace. 

You remember shreds of a very vague dream the next morning. 

It’s your wedding day. But somehow Marco and Maya are there, giggling as they pass the two of you rings. 

And the other Marco’s standing there too, smiling and giving his approval.

--

an: ah yes. method acting in the lords month august 2024. had to make it angsty for obvious reasons. we all know who I am at my core. also why did this make me cry I miss this fic so much

taglist: @k0z3me @sugu-love @yihona-san06  @bsenpai @sweetenertea @mykyoon @violetmatcha  @rebeccawinters @cutiejg @bokutosthings @bookwrmm @mblrrr @wheredidmycrowngo @somethinginyoureyes7 @chilichopsticks @okaystopwhore @you-always-made-me-blush @itzmeme @firelordazulaaaa @whoami-72 @g-ghostly @intimacywithceline @erensmoodygf @chericos @princess-ackerman @jaegerfiles @cacapeepee @rui-0836 @moonmalice @invisible-mori i @sofiasber @bbybeeb @timetobegone @tee4str @ttokki2 @leave-rae-alone @ec3lipsy @officialsimpp @gojojang @yookayyo @lordbugs @multiplefandomthings @iobeyfandoms @camilo-uwu @justanotherkpopstanlol @mel-star636 @fvckingeetar @ttalgi @najaemism @ilovekimchi123 @youraggedybitch @xoyumiqls @leafguitar @dreamy-carat @spiidergirlsworld @luvs4kim @levin4nami @florichun @hoonmyluv

[lilgarbitch]

The Voice of an Angel - Three

Pairing: Matt Dierkes x Pornblog!Reader

CW: phone sex, mutual masterbation, i think that’s it.

Word Count: 6.3k

Author’s Note: Here you are, my little gremlins! I know very little about microphones and technology and shit so just ignore the details😭 I know most is probably wrong. I did the best research I could but it’s not gonna he perfect.

Tags: @theanarchymuse95 @dontwantthemoney @badomensgoodomens @enemiestolovershoe @xmads-omensx @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @thatchickwiththecamera @tosoundlessdarkistare @lacy1986 @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @heyyoplayer

Part Two

Y/N | Thursday 4:56 PM

ThotxPleaser has officially gone from occasional donator and supporter to full sugar daddy and I didn’t know how to handle it. The past two weeks have just been me sending him voice notes talking about my day and responding to his messages while he just replies by text when he gets the chance, and then sending me money for absolutely anything that I talk about, to the point that I’ve started backtracking during some conversations and telling him that he in fact did not have to send me money for breakfast every morning because I mentioned that I forgot to eat it a few days ago. 

I even had to tell him that he could slow down on the payments. He’s been sending at least $300-$500 each time I sent him a voice note, more if he specifies on what to spend it on. I’m making more money than I ever have before, especially because I’m still getting donations from other supporters. But of course, he responds by telling me that I deserve to be ‘rewarded for my gift’ as if just rambling to someone while occasionally posting lewd audios was a gift to the world. 

I was currently on my way to work, taking the long route, since I managed to wake up with enough time to take in the scene of the city, and because I was really enjoying being able to just use these voice notes as some sort of diary. I mean, I’m never going to meet this guy, and it’s not like he’s going to use the things I talk about against me, especially when most of the time it’s just me trying to figure out what my dreams meant, or debating on upgrading my setup. He’s been surprisingly helpful with that though. My setup…not my dreams. He’s been giving me tips on recording equipment, even going into detail on why each piece works best for what I do. He even gave me multiple options of things like microphones and hard drives for me to store my old audios to save up space and in case something happens and I lose all my old media. 

I was surprised he didn’t just tell me what to buy and give me the money for it, but I think after mentioning so many times that I really don’t need to be spoiled this bad, and because it’s not like I’m doing anything truly professional, that he’s been giving me cheaper options that are still good quality. It was shocking to me when he first started talking about it. Not like I know absolutely anything about him or what he does, but the knowledge he has for all of this is insane. He’s been talking about things that sound like complete gibberish to me, having to bring out what I’ve been calling ‘baby talk’, explaining what solid state drives or form factors are to me, because let's be honest, when it comes to anything more than ‘press play’ ‘ transfer file’ and ‘post’, I’m a complete amateur. But I am very thankful he hasn’t treated me like I was stupid for not knowing all of this, just putting it into simpler terms so I can understand what to look for and why it’ll help me. 

“I’m trying to decide on the best microphone to buy, because I don’t want anything too bulky or heavy, but I also don’t want to buy some cheap piece of garbage and waste money,” I speak into my phone as I spin the steering wheel, turning down a side street with gorgeous blossoming trees lining the sides, “Is there, like, a stand or something I should get? I feel like…where…I record… is a little too unconventional and it’s hard to figure out how I can even get this to work. Using my phone is so easy because I can just sit it beside me and…do my thing. Also having to have it connected to my computer will be a bitch, so should I get a bluetooth one? Are those still good quality?” 

I continue rambling about every thought in my head as I get closer to work, probably relying on his input a little too much because I never really thought this far ahead about my whole side hustle until now and he has coincidentally become the perfect person to help, being the only person who could give me the advice I need while also being the only one I could think of even sending test audios to while working on upgrading. 

“I think I’m in a little over my head with all of this,” I say as I pull into the parking lot of the library, “You think- Fuck. Okay, maybe that’s a bad idea… I mean…Fuck it. What would you think of, like…calling? To help me set up everything? You can totally say ‘no’ if you don’t feel comfortable, and I can tell you’ve been pretty busy so if you don’t have time, that’s completely okay, too. I’m just gonna need some tips and to probably send you a few audio tests so you can tell me if everything sounds okay- Alright I’m rambling and I’m at work so, like…I guess just let me know…? Okay bye.” 

I end the recording and work on sending it over to our chat as I make my way into the library. Why was my heart racing? I understand that I just asked a stranger to talk on the phone with me but it’s not like I haven’t been communicating with him for a while now. And it’s just a phone call, especially if we can set this up over some app so he doesn’t actually get my phone number, what harm will this do? Am I just scared that I may have made him uncomfortable, or is it a mix of fear and excitement of hearing him after months of him only knowing my voice? 

I shake my head and push all the racing thoughts out of it. I’ll deal with this when I get a response from him, but right now, I need to do my real job. 

Matt | Thursday 12:27 AM

I let out a huff as I fall into the seat of the bus. My body is slowly getting used to being on the road, but it’s still exhausting. Helping set up for hours before the show, helping take down for an hour after, and being completely focused during took a toll on my mind and body. The only thing keeping me going was energy drinks, being able to do all of this with the group I consider my family, and those goddamn voice notes. 

Once everyone packed into the buses and vans, we started making our way to the next location. As the bus hit the road, I got comfortable in my seat and pulled out my phone. I know I should start moving to my bunk when we get on, especially after the countless nights I end up passing out in the front, but despite the exhaustion, I’m too wired from the energy of the day and end up restless if I head to bed right away. 

I pull out my airpods from my bag and just scroll through Twitter and Instagram for a bit. Most nights, I’ve been putting off listening to the voice notes until I can get a little more relaxed, especially because listening to her voice somehow manages to calm me and bring my heart rate up at the same time. It kind of drives me insane the effect she has on me. All she does is tell me about her day, complain about work or something she saw online, or now that we talked more about upgrading her setup, she’s been asking me a lot of questions about everything. And I couldn’t be more willing to help. Between being able to share my knowledge with someone, and feel the appreciation she has when I do give her advice, I couldn’t be enjoying this little thing we have going on more. 

After scrolling for long enough, I was feeling antsy, needing to hear her voice, so I finally switched over to my other Twitter account and opened the DMs, my heart already racing. I hit play, adjusted my volume, and closed my eyes as I let her ramble into my ears. 

She seemed to be getting more stressed about the whole set up situation now that she was dead set on upgrading, so that was mainly what she talked about. When she started talking about how she’d even get it to work with her recording arrangements, I was starting to think of how to reply to ease her stress and give her the best advice to make sure this worked best for her. When I knew the audio was coming close to an end, I looked at my phone again and began typing the beginning of my reply. But then she asked something I wasn’t ever expecting. 

“What would you think of calling? To help me set up everything?” 

She wanted to call? So many thoughts were racing through my mind. The audio ended and I was staring at the first few words I wrote in the text box as my brain flooded with how to respond. She actually wanted to hear me, too? I mean, we have created some sort of friendship over the past two weeks, especially with how normal our conversations were compared to the ways I’d talk through comments and donations. We’ve definitely reached a point past Creator and Follower, but she was willing to talk on the phone with me? 

Also how the fuck would this work? I’d never let her give me her phone number, and would honestly be upset if she even wanted to give it to me after only speaking for two weeks, not having a clue who I actually was. I guess we could figure something out like a Discord call, that way both of our identities were still hidden. Fuck. Identities. I mean, what are the odds she even listens to Bad Omens? And if she did, the possibility of knowing who I was was even slimmer. But that didn’t mean I was exactly a nobody. And it’s not like my voice was everywhere like Noah’s or even Davis’, but it was still out there. 

I’m overthinking this way too much. There’s no way she knows who I am or would recognize my voice. This will be fine. As long as I don’t give her any information about what I do for work or who I work with, it’ll be okay. But when the fuck would I even have time to call her? My schedule is packed and when I’m not setting up or taking down sets, I’m stuck on this bus with nosy ass people who will either be sleeping or in my business. I thought about it for a moment before remembering that we’re supposed to be staying at a hotel Sunday night since we won’t have a show until Tuesday. I’ll just book a one bedroom. I quickly deleted what I had typed and rewrote my message. 

I’d love to help if that’s what works for you. My schedule is pretty packed but if Sunday night works for you, we could set something up. I feel like our best bet would be talking over Discord, if that’s alright with you. That way we can test the mic through your computer while on call. Just let me know, if not, we can figure out another day. 

I then list off a few mics she could get, a few cheap ones I know were good quality, some bluetooth, and one I knew Noah really liked for his at home studio. I hit send and dropped my phone on my chest, staring up at the ceiling of the bus as my heart continued to pound in my chest. It shouldn’t be such a big deal, but this call feels like a big step, both good and bad. 

Y/N | Friday 2:30 PM

Either he was really tired, since it was nearly 2 in the morning here when I got a reply, or I may have freaked him out with the whole call situation, because he forgot to send me anything last night. Not that I cared, he was sending me more than I knew what to do with, but it was weird waking up to a notification from just my DMs and not CashApp, too. 

He still agreed to talk, which I was happy about, so I must’ve not freaked him out too bad. I was now on my way to Guitar Center to look at their selections of mics there, since I knew if I ordered one online, it wouldn’t get here in time for our call, and it’ll be easier to return it if I have to. And this was more of a fun store to look through than Best Buy. 

When I step through the door, I greet the guy at the front and begin looking around. I know I’m here for microphones, but come on, it’s like a museum in here. I have to window shop every instrument I’ll never know how to play. 

After I take my time walking around the store, eyeing up all the guitars, drum sets, and even the dj boards, I finally make my way to the back with the wall full of mics. And then I just stare, because suddenly I completely forgot everything we were talking about and every brand name and all the information now looked like gibberish to me. 

I take a closer look at most of them, trying to remember what he told me, but I swear nothing any of this said was anything I was mentioned to look for. If only I knew he’d respond if I texted him asking for help. There’s so many random numbers and letters and the prices are all over the place, I couldn’t stop myself from trying. I open my phone and pull up our chat before begging for help. 

I’m currently looking at a giant wall of microphones and I feel like I stepped onto another planet

Why the fuck are some of these in the thousands?

Do I need a condenser mic? These look like those goddamn podcast mics

I’m about to continue spamming him when, surprisingly, a message comes through. 

Remain calm😂 You don’t need anything more than a few hundred, if even that. Yes, I’d recommend a condenser mic because you’re gonna want something that won’t pick up too much background noise, some even have controls on them for boost, gain, and volume

I stare up at the wall and then back at my phone before just saying ‘fuck it’ and pressing the record button on the side of the text box since this it’s just gonna be a short audio. 

“What the fuck is boost, gain, and vol- okay I know what volume means. But I swear all the information you gave me just went out the window.” I said before letting it send. It took a minute but then he finally responded. 

Boost is pretty much how much background noise your mic picks up. Gain is just the input signal level. Like how loud your voice will get picked up. 

I once again just stare at his messages like they made any sense to me. I was starting to get a little frustrated. I know he doesn’t seem busy right now, but I can’t just ask him to call already, knowing he said to wait until Sunday, so I did the next best thing. I close out of Twitter and open my camera app. I make sure it’s facing away and I’m not being picked up on any reflections before pressing record. 

“Okay, so,” I say as I get closer to whatever the fuck condenser microphones are, “These are the ones you said I should be looking at. I’m steering clear of these ones that look like they belong on Joe Rogan’s podcast or any over 400 dollars. So that leaves me with these,” I bring my hand into view and point out the ones I assume I should be looking at. 

“I hear a lot about this one, but this one looks like it’ll work better with how I record. But then wasn’t this one the one you told me about last night? God, I can’t remember. What do I do?” I end the video and send it to him. 

After watching the video, he finally responds, surprising me with a voice note of his own. 

“Alright. The first one is a Blue Yeti, it does fit perfectly with what you’re doing, but I have heard a lot of mixed reviews, and I haven’t personally used it myself, so I can’t say I recommend it. The second is a Shure MV7X. It’s definitely what you would want, but most controls will have to be done while it’s hooked up to your computer, if that works for you. The last is the one I recommended because that’s the one a friend of mine uses. It’s the Shure SM7B. It’s pricier than the rest and is set up in a way that may be harder for you to use, but it’s one I do think you should get if you can figure out a way to set it up to work for you.”

I listen to his voice with my phone held up to my ear, not wanting to bother other customers with my idiocy and I could tell he was somewhere with people around so it was a little harder to hear. But I barely process what he’s saying, stuck on the fact I’m hearing his voice for the first time. I have no idea what I thought he’d sound like, but I will say I’m kind of shocked he didn’t sound like an old man. And a part of me felt like his voice sounded familiar but I immediately pushed that thought out of my mind, not wanting to think about the fact that this could be someone I know. 

I replay the audio as I look at the options in front of me, before deciding that I’m just going to buy both the Blue Yeti and the last one he mentioned. I can always bring back whichever I don’t use. I send him a quick thank you text before grabbing both boxes and making my way to the front. I chat with the guy ringing me up, making sure I know their return policy, before finally heading back to my car. 

On my walk, I feel my phone buzz in my pocket, so I pull it out once I’m in my seat, seeing that it’s that goddamn CashApp notification. 

ThotxPleaser - $700

Because I forgot and to help out with whichever you chose

I rolled my eyes with a smile as I toss the boxes onto the passenger seat and start my car. I swear if that fucker pays me for helping me set these up, I may have to block him on CashApp.

Matt | Sunday 10:17 PM

I managed to get them to let me head back to the hotel early. I felt terrible leaving them to take everything down by themselves, but losing one person wasn’t the end of the world, and I already felt terrible making Angel wait this long. I had no clue what time zone she was in, but it was pretty late no matter where she was. 

I took a quick shower because I felt disgusting from sweating all day and made sure everything in the hotel room was set up because depending on what time it was for her, I didn’t know how long our call was going to run and I didn’t want to have to get ready for bed if I was dead tired by the end of it. 

Once I had my chargers plugged in, my dirty clothes packed up, and the TV playing some quiet music in the background, I finally pulled out my phone and got prepared to send her the text that I was home and free to call.

All day I feel like I’ve been looking forward to this call, the anxiety and excitement of it all almost distracting me the whole day. Thankfully, I pushed her out of my head while I was actually working the sound and making sure everything in Front of House was running smoothly during the show, but every moment before and after was me just dizzy as she consumed my thoughts. 

Checking the time one last time, I realized I shouldn’t wait any longer, so I sent her the text that she could call when she was ready. 

Y/N | Sunday 11:34 PM

I was fucking rushing around my room once I got his text. I had no idea why I was freaking out so bad. I was the one who asked if we could call and it wasn’t like he was going to see me or my room but for some reason I was making my bed and making sure I didn’t look like a mess as my computer was booting up and I made sure Discord was open and logged into. I had to make a new account since my old one had my personal username and information so it was weird seeing such a blank account, but I spent all of this morning making sure my profile looked cute for absolutely no reason other than needing to distract me from my nerves and excitement. 

I realize that he’s going to have to help me set up my mics, so I was probably going to have to start the call on my phone anyway so I didn’t fuck anything up and he couldn’t hear me. I shoot him a quick text, telling him to give me a minute and sending him my username, the one I’ve been using for all these pseudo accounts. 

I feel my phone buzz as I grab the two boxes I bought the other day and set them on my desk. I open my notifications to see that he had friended me on Discord, so I did the same back. Calm the fuck down, Y/N. You’re just getting help setting everything up. It’s not like you’re putting on a show for him or like this was the first time you were speaking to him. Just hit call. Just press the button. Okay. Deep breaths. You don’t need a shaky voice when he’s already been hearing it for months. 

I take one last exhale as I hit the little phone icon. My heart’s trying to pound out of my chest as I hear it ring, and my stomach feels like it wants to drop when he finally answers. But then, I hear that voice I first heard a few days ago and it’s almost like my nerves all instantly vanished. 

“Hey!” I hear through my phone’s speaker. The too familiar voice filling my ears and bringing a smile to my face without me even understanding why. 

“Hey,” I replied, my smile evident in my voice, causing a small chuckle to come from my phone. 

“Sorry it’s so late. I uh…” He paused to let out a small laugh, “I actually got out of work earlier than normal, but it was still pretty late by the time I got back. I hope it’s not too late for you.”

”No, no. It’s all good. It’s still before midnight here and I was probably gonna stay up late anyway since I don’t work tomorrow.” 

“Alright, good. I’m technically off, too, so I’m glad this worked out for both of us.” 

God, there was something about his voice. It’s like my brain was overworking, trying to connect a face to it, but it couldn’t quite make it fit. But it was so familiar. It definitely wasn’t anyone I knew personally, so that’s good. But now I’m just confused on why I felt like I knew him already. 

“So what mic did you end up getting?” He asked, pulling me out of my thoughts. 

“Oh yeah!” I moved and sat down in my computer chair, setting my phone on my desk and pulling the boxes towards me, “I grabbed the Blue Yeti and the one you said your friend used. I figured I could just take back the one that I didn’t need and it’d be easier to do it this way than run back and forth from the store or get stuck with one I didn’t like.” 

“Smart. The Blue Yeti should be pretty simple to figure out, but I can help you set up the Shure and figure out the settings and everything on your computer.” 

I took the Blue Yeti out of the box first and made sure I didn’t ruin any of its packaging just in case this was the one I needed to return. I set it on my desk and read over the instructions. It was pretty easy to set up, just needing to plug it in and fuck around with the gain and sound source. After understanding what I could from the instructions, I told him that I was going to switch over to my computer so he could tell me how it sounded. 

“Hello?” I spoke into the mic after he answered the call. 

“Holy shit, that picks up a lot of input,” he answered, laughing. I giggled before covering my mouth, realizing just how loud that probably was on his end. 

“I’m gonna fuck around with the settings and shit and you tell me what sounds good,” I said before leaning back and looking at the dails on the mic. 

I did a few test “Hello”s, trying to figure out the best sound source option. 

“Oh, that one’s good. It’s more binaural so when you move around the mic, it almost sounds 3D.” 

“So it'd be good for what I’m gonna use it for?” He softly laughed.

”Yes. And for someone who says some lewd things online, I find it so funny that you won’t just say ‘for my audios’ or something. You act like that’s not how I know you.” I groaned and immediately dropped my face to my hands as he called me out, almost like I was hiding the blush he couldn’t even see anyway.

”I know. I’m sorry. It’s still just really awkward actually talking to someone about it, you know? Like, not even my best friend knows I do this, so you’re the first person I’m actually talking to about it.”

”Well, I’m honored. And I get it, I’m just teasing. It’s just cute that I’ve heard some insane noises from you yet you won’t even admit out loud what you do.” I fall back in my chair and laugh, still covering my face. 

“Alright, shut up.”

“Okay. Okay. Sorry,” he said, chuckling, “Now that we know what this one sounds like, let’s figure out how to get the other mic working for you.” 

I took the other mic and cords out of the box while the Blue Yeti was hooked up as I asked him more questions since it was a little more complicated, and once I had it set up, I quickly switched the plugs. 

“Hello?” I spoke into the new mic.

”Woah. You can definitely tell the difference. Are there instructions on how to pull up the controls?” I look over at the paper that came in the box and grab it again.

”Good god, this is so complicated,” I mumble to myself as I read over the instructions that come after simply setting it up.

Matt | Sunday 11:23 PM

This was my own personal hell. Okay, maybe not hell, but it was a fucking struggle. Having her talk to me. Hearing her voice replying to everything I said. How she asked me the simplest questions and truly appreciated my answers and how cute she sounded when it started working easier or she started understanding what each control meant. I’m thankful my brain was working enough to remember at least the important knowledge on how to help her set everything up because it felt like it was melting out of my ears with every little noise her new mics picked up, every giggle she let out or the small little huffs of frustration that just sent me back to the sounds I heard on her audios for months. 

“Alright, I think we managed to get it to the perfect controls…What’s a windscreen?” she oh so adorably asked.

”The uhh little foam thing that looks like it fits over the mic.”

”Oh!” I hear some shuffling and then the sound of foam sliding over metal, “What does this do?”

”Well, it pretty much does what the name says. It’ll block out most air sounds, but it also muffles some sounds most people don’t want picked up, like absent mouth sounds or strong ‘S’ or ‘P’ sound.” I answer.

”Should I use it?” God, she was adorable. It’s like she wasn’t even thinking of an answer on her own, she just knew I had the knowledge and wanted to help so I’d give her anything she needed. And I would. And love every second of it. 

“No, darling. You want those noises picked up, right? I mean, ‘wet sounds’ more than mouth sounds.” I answered, chuckling. 

”Wet- Oh! Oh. Yeah, that makes more sense,” she replied, almost sounding bashful. 

The way she seemed so nervous talking about this out loud was both shocking and cute at the same time. I knew she was in the space she had made some pretty noisy audios in the past, so it wasn’t like she was scared someone else would hear her talk about it. It was just that she was talking to me about it. 

Suddenly, I hear something small crash on the other side of the phone, causing her to sigh. I assume something just fell off her desk, but she let out a slight groan as she reached down to grab it, whispering an ‘Aww fuck,” before she seemingly reached it and picked it up, and instantly, my dick went from the semi erect it’s been at since I heard her answer the call, to fully hard. I play off the groan escaping my throat with a cough. 

“You alright?” I managed to get out.

”Yeah, sorry, knocked my phone off the desk. Thankfully it didn’t crack,” she said with a soft sigh. I cleared my throat and shifted in the bed, my erection getting more and more uncomfortable with each word she said. 

“That’s good.” 

Y/N | Monday 12:47 AM

Something sounded different about him all of a sudden. He went from helpfully nerding out over each of the controls and what the perfect settings for me would be, to distracted one to two word answers. We were mostly finished with setting everything up, but I really didn’t want to get off the call yet, so I was trying to think of more things to ask for his help with or for me to decide which microphone was perfect for my audi- oh my god. 

My audios. My voice. We’re literally on a call together and it took me this long to realize that the man that literally pays me to speak for him is getting affected by my voice. You’re such an idiot, Y/N. Well..Do I…Do I help him? I mean, that’s not what the call was for and I know he was just doing this to help me, not benefit from it at all, but I’m not gonna lie…I kind of want to. 

Something about his familiar voice has been keeping me on edge the whole night and I’ve just been ignoring it because that’s not what our dynamic has been since I started sending him personal audios and I didn’t want him to think that’s all I assumed he wanted. But…I can now tell from the way he’s talking, how deep and distracted his voice has gotten, that it wouldn’t…hurt..right? 

“I…um.. I think I’m gonna see how well this works for when I actually make the audios, if that’s alright with you. You know, see if I have to start recording from my desk or if the mics reach to my bed and actually work from there.”

”Oh! Yeah, go ahead,” he answers, his voice slightly more gravelly than before. 

Matt | Sunday 11:56 PM

She tries moving the mic to her bed, and just the thought of her laying in bed talking to me has me palming my dick through my pants. It wasn’t even sexual, and I felt terrible for doing it, especially because that’s not what this call was for at all, but the things this girl does to my brain and body are uncontrollable. 

After she decides that the Shure wouldn’t work for anywhere else but at her desk, she says that she may keep the other mic for that reason, and will test it out another time so she doesn’t have to mess with any more cords and things. And then she almost has me unload in my pants when she starts speaking into it again. 

“Since it picks up a lot of input like you said, I’ll probably start talking like this in some of the audios,” she speaks in such a soft, sultry tone. One that felt like she was right next to me, whispering in my ear.

”Jesus fuck,” I whisper out, unable to hold back my reaction. She giggles softly, that sound somehow shooting straight to my cock, too. 

“It’s good, isn’t it?” she teases. 

“You’re fucking killing me here,” I practically groan out.

”Don’t say that, you make it sound like it’s a bad thing.” 

“Oh, this is the farthest thing from bad. It’s just…Fuck. You sound like you’re right next to me. And your voice sounds so good.”

”Yeah? Then… You alright with me testing out what else the mic picks up other than my voice?” My brain instantly turned to mush. A noise escaped my throat before I could even answer, my mind just consumed by the thought of her touching herself while talking to me. 

“More than alright with it,” I finally say, my voice barely above a whisper as I try to hide how fucking badly hers affects me. 

“You gonna touch yourself to the sound of me doing the same?” She asks, her tone immediately turning into the one she uses when she makes her talking audios. Where instead of just her beautiful whimpers and moans, she directs you. How to touch yourself, to stop, start again, how fast to go, everything. Ones I’ve listened to more times than I can count.

”F-fuck. Yes,” I answer, immediately sliding my hand down my shorts and gripping the base of my cock. I let out a small gasp at the smallest bit of relief. 

I hear the wheels of her chair move back slightly and the sound of the mic move, probably her angling it down to make sure it captures more sound. My eyes were closed and I was imagining the sight before my eyes. Her sitting there with her legs spread on her chair, sliding her hand down her stomach into her panties. And just as I saw it in my mind, I heard her let out a soft sigh and the distant sound of wetness.

”Fuck, Angel. I can hear you.” She lets out a small giggle.

”Guess we picked a good mic, then,” she replies in an airy voice. 

I continue gently stroking myself to the sound of her through the mic, trying to keep an easy pace, matching hers. But the second I hear her soft whimpers start, I could feel myself get closer to the edge. 

“Fuck, Darling. You sound so good. I’m not gonna last,” I groan out, picking up pace.

Y/N | Monday 1:13 AM

This was the first time I’ve ever done something like this. I never did anything over the phone before, so hearing his soft groans and the slight sound of him jerking off in the background was making me insanely wet. I just know that the mic was picking up more sound than any of my audios ever had before. 

Another thing I’ve never had was being with someone vocal. Not just the noises he made, but as he started getting closer, he instinctively started talking me through it, wanting me to join him.

“I’m so close. You gonna cum with me, angel? Fuck, I can hear how wet you are,” He practically moaned out. 

All I could do was reply with whimpers and ‘mmhmm’s, focusing on his voice and the sounds he made. 

“Oh fuck, you are. I love the way your whimpers pick up when you’re about to cum. Come on, darling. I know you’re close.” 

The fact that he knew the sounds I made when I was close made this even hotter. I sped up my movements, circling my clit with my head thrown back against my chair, the knot in my core tightening by the second. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he gasped out, immediately followed by a deep groan, one that shot me over the edge, joining him. 

I let out a loud moan, my orgasm shaking me to my core. My hand was soaked and I couldn’t catch my breath, so I just sat there, breathing hard as I listened to him do the same through my headphones and just stared at the ceiling, thinking about what the fuck we just did. 

Ever since I started talking to him, my orgasms have been more intense than ever before, and I’m now realizing it’s because he was on my mind. I start thinking of everything that has happened the past few weeks, all the sweet ways he’s treated me. The way he spoils me for doing nothing but bring him a peaceful or erotic distraction. How nice he’s been to me. Even the cute nicknames he hasn’t stopped giving me.

“I like Darling,” I finally say after a few minutes of thinking, after we’ve both calmed down. 

“Huh?” He asked with a slight chuckle.

”When you call me darling. I always liked when you’d comment it on posts or donations, but finally hearing you say it out loud, it just…fits. And it feels nice hearing you call me that,” I answer, blushing slightly at my random confession. 

“Good to know, Darling,” he replied with a teasing tone, making me giggle. 

TO BE CONTINUED

[scribblesofagoonerr]

— Separate | © scribblesofagoonerr

pairings: leah williamson x jordan nobbs x child!reader

summary: child reader is finding it hard to deal with her mum's separation.

once again, shout out to @alotofpockets for her help with this one!

let me know what you guys think about this one, as i'm looking to write more and obviously include a certain reader from another series...

"Come on, buddy. Cheer up!" Jordan frowns, turning round to see you reluctantly dragging her feet up the driveway of the home she once shared with her ex-girlfriend and you, "I thought you'd be excited to come home and be able to see mummy finally?"

You stand there with your arms crossed and scowl plastered on your face, "No! I don't wan' to go in there!" You tell her, stubbornly.

You might only be 3-years-old, but you know what you want and this is something you definitely didn't want to do.

"Why not?" Jordans' confused with your blunt answer, considering the fact that while you were away with her, it was the complete opposite.

You had spent the week on holiday in Greece with Jordan and her best friend Katie, you had such a good time and you didn't want to go back home to Leah, because then it meant that you wouldn't see Jordan for a while again.

Sure it's only a weekend but in your 3-year-old mind, that's still a long time to wait.

You wish that they could both be together with you all of the time.

"Cos' I don' wanna, mama!" You state, like that explains it all.

Your stubbornness is something neither Leah or Jordan quite know where you got it from, but it's a trait that they've both learnt to pick their battles wisely.

"Okay," Jordan exhales a sigh and crouches down to your level, "But I think that mummy might be upset about that, won't she? I bet she's excited to see you as well!"

You know that Jordan's right, but you still didn't want to go back to Leah's, even if your favourite person is there.

"I don' care, mama!" Your little voice shouted aloud while you stomped your foot in protest.

"Hey, hey, come on," Jordans' voice is gentle but there's still a sense of firmness there, "There's no need to shout about this, is there?" She questions.

You huff and continue to stomp your little feet in defiance, "I don' want to go in there, mama! I don' wanna!" You exclaim, stubbornly.

The women knows this another argument with you that won't end well if she's not careful, "Okay, alright... Can you tell mama the reason that you don't want too?" She wonders, trying to get to the bottom of your reason.

"Cos' when I go in there then that means you leave, and I don' want you to go!" You explain, the reason in your hand is perfectly acceptable.

"You've been with me all week though, buddy. It's mummy's turn to spend time with you now though, isn't it?" Jordan still continues to be gentle and coax you closer to the front door, where Leah's know seen you both and is probably rushing towards the door right now.

Shaking your head, you continue to be stubborn about the decision, "Don' want that though. I wan' go back with you and see Blu!" You tell her, like it's simple as that.

You miss the simpler times, when you had both Leah and Jordan together.

You can't remember a lot because sure you was only little when they broke up, but you still wish your 2 favourite people were always together.

Jordan gives you a sympathetic smile, "Buddy, I know you want to do that but it's your mummy's time now with you. I'll see you again at the weekend, won't I?" She asks.

"Don' want to wait until then!" You huff and stomp your feet again in protest.

"I'm sorry, buddy." Jordan exhales a sigh, knowing there's not much that she can do it based on the custody arrangement that herself and Leah had come with to split equal time with you, "Next weekend, I promise. Okay? We'll go to the aquarium or something as well!" She promises you.

You didn't have much time to protest before the door swung open to reveal Leah on the other side with a beaming smile on her face when she see's you.

"There's my girl!" Leahs' crouching down to your level and holding her arms out, waiting for you to run into them like usual.

Only this time, you didn't.

"No!" You exclaim in protest before moving to hide behind Jordans' legs, "No, wan' you. No!" Clinging to Jordan, your reluctant to move to go anywhere near Leah.

"Oh," Leah's smile turns into a confused frown, looking at Jordan for some sort of explanation because this is completely out of character for you to act like this when your usually her mini me and will follow her around everywhere.

Now you didn't want anything to do with her.

Jordan sends Leah an apologetic smile before she turns round and crouches to your height, "Buddy, I know it's hard but it's mummy's time now, remember?" She tries to explain to you, sensing that this broke Leah's heart to see you reject her in the way that you did.

"But mama, I'll miss you too much!" Your little voice admits, peeking your head out from behind Jordans' leg as your bottom lip wobbles when you see Leah.

The realisation hits Leah suddenly when she can finally understand what's going on with you and your reluctance to cling onto Jordan instead, "Jord, why don't you come in for a bit so you can spend some time with her before you have to go?" She offers her ex girlfriend.

Jordan peers up to look at Leah from where's crouching down on the floor and nods in agreement, the two of them having a silent conversation with one another before she turns back to face you, "That sounds like a good idea, doesn't it, buddy? Why don't we go inside all together?" She suggests, still trying to coax you into the house.

"O... Okay," Hesitant to move from behind Jordan too much, you slowly take hold of her hand as all 3 of you walk back inside the spacious house.

Leah's apprehensive about your newfound clinginess for the other women but tries to not let it bother her as she shuts the front door behind the three of you, "So, how was the flight?" She wonders, trying to keep the conversation polite between herself and her ex for your sake.

"Good, yeah. Buddy slept most of it," Jordan replies, ruffling your hair as she walks through into the living room, "How was Nashville?" She wonders.

Leah snorts slightly and shakes her head, "Chaotic to say the least, but it was a memorable trip with monkey," She smiles faintly as she stands in the doorway of the living room, "Do you want a drink or anything?" She offers.

"Oh I can imagine. Sure, I'll take a glass of water please," Jordan agrees, taking a seat  on the sofa and you don't hesitate to drop yourself into her lap and nuzzle yourself as close to her as possible, "Do you want a drink, buddy?" She wonders.

"No," You say in disagreement, keeping yourself virtually attached to Jordan.

Leah smiles faintly and nods, trying to not let it get to her too much as she maneuvers into the kitchen to make said drinks, making a sippy cup of juice up for you because it was important for you to drink even if you disagreed about it, before she returns to the living room and handing the drink over to Jordan and placing your sippy cup on the coffee table.

"Hey, Buddy! Look what we got for you," Leah tries to get your attention away from Jordan as she moves to reach for the plastic carrier bag on the other end of the sofa, "I brought you a new Lego set when we was in Nashville, Monkey picked it out for you. Do you want to check it out?" She wonders, gesturing to the item in her hands.

You peer your head up from Jordans' shoulder and inspect it carefully, after hearing that your favourite person other than Leah and Jordan had a hand in picking it.

You love Monkey, she's like an older sister to you.

Even if she's 19-years-old, she still acts like a big kid.

"Wow, that's cool, isn't it, buddy?" Jordan exclaims, trying to encourage you to play with it.

"No," You murmur quietly, shaking your head and moving back to rest it on Jordan's shoulder.

"How about we all try and build it together?" Leah suggests, trying to coax you out of the clinginess slowly and what's better to do than Lego.

It's one of your favourite things to play with.

The next would be play-dough, but Leah's not too much a fan of that.

"That sounds like a good idea, doesn't it?" Jordan agrees with her ex-girlfriend, hopeful that you would agree to do it.

You think about it for a few seconds, "Okay, but I wan' both mama and mummy to do it with me!" You declare, being the opinionated and bossy 3-year-old that you are.

Leah's smile brightens as she nods, "We'll all do it together, buddy."

© scribblesofagoonerr

[it-happened-one-fic]

A Waltz That's Both Tender and New - Malleus

Author Notes: So, this is actually quite old. I inititally wrote this before I ever wrote my Strictly NRC Dancing series as practice. And after that, it just kind of got abandoned. I dug it up and edited it though, so here it is! The title of this fic was taken from lyrics of “I bring you a song” from the Disney film Bambi. As per usual, reader is gender-neutral. I hope you enjoy!

Type: Gender-neutral reader/ fluff/

Word count: 1178

Malleus sat next to me on the bench just outside of Ramshackle, idly chatting to me about the gargoyles on the campus. And a part of me felt bad because, honestly speaking, I wasn’t really listening to him. Instead, I was puzzling over the newest issue I’d just learned of today. Dancing.

Crowley had apparently decided the thing to do was host a ball to which numerous people would be invited. Numerous people bearing cameras, to be specific.

This ball was supposed to prove that Night Raven College wasn’t full of students that were merely boisterous thugs, but were also cultured gentlemen who were simply misunderstood and occasionally misled.

And that meant everyone had to learn to dance. Which was fine for some of us. Leona, Silver, Sebek, Lilia, and Malleus all knew court dances. As did Floyd and Vil, for unknown reasons. Jamil and Kalim also both knew how to dance, though it wasn’t in the courtly ballroom style that this ball was apparently going to require.

But for me, dancing was a bit of an issue. Because I hadn’t the slightest clue as to how to go about dancing beyond grooving on my own in my room with only the ghosts and possibly Grim to see.

And that wasn’t even beginning to consider the issue of ballroom etiquette. I could only hope Trein would host a lesson on that. Otherwise I’d have to ask for advice from Sebek, which I had no doubt would be quite the ordeal in and of itself.

“Child of man?” I glanced up, slightly startled, only to find a rather disappointed and notably pouty Malleus looking at me. 

He was frowning, but he’d probably realized I hadn’t been listening. He tilted his head, though, “You seem rather… listless. Is something wrong?”

I sighed, shaking my head slightly as I laced my fingers together in my lap, “It's nothing; I’m just a little concerned about learning to dance for the upcoming ball….”

I trailed off, and Malleus shifted, looking perfectly perplexed as he eyed me, “Do you not want to learn to dance?”

His tone wasn’t judgmental, but rather curious, and I shook my head in response. A slight smile finding its way to my face, “No, the idea of learning to dance is actually rather exciting. But learning to dance in one week and then performing in front of cameras is daunting.”

Daunting was putting it lightly. Frankly, the idea of being filmed while dancing was downright distressing.

My companion hummed thoughtfully, nodding slightly to himself before abruptly standing and offering me his hand, an amused smile crawling its way onto his face, “Then allow me to be your tutor. I know several dances and can teach you one.”

I blinked up at him in slight surprise, which caused his expression to turn even more amused at my confusion as he inclined his head slightly, the moonlight glinting off his curved horns, “Then you will at least be used to one partner and be completely prepared for one dance. After all, that is all anyone can ask of you.”

I grinned slightly at his reasoning but slipped my hand into his gloved one and stood, “Alright, but I’m warning you, we’ll have to practice a whole lot.”

He seemed delighted by my warning, grinning outright at my words as he stepped backward, tugging me away from the bench and along with him, “Of course. Now.” 

He guided one of my hands to his shoulder and let it rest there, patting it in an almost affectionate manner. 

Next, he took my other hand in his before immediately straightening into a more poised position and resting his other hand on my waist, “It is far simpler than Professor Trein would have you believe. I will lead, and you simply need to follow my steps.”

His gaze held mine as he calmly explained, and I found myself grinning up at him, tilting my head playfully, “That, and not step on your feet.”

His eyes were practically sparkling at my words, “A part of the learning process, but a part I’d prefer to avoid so… yes.” He grinned widely, his fangs glinting ever so slightly and making him look positively wicked even though he was taking the time to teach me.

“Ready?” I straightened as soon as the questioning word left his mouth. All teasing comments fleeing my mind as I swallowed slightly.

“Ready,” I bobbed my head determinedly and ignored his chuckle as he began to slowly guide me into stepping forward, following him as he shifted backward.

“We will most likely be waltzing, so in terms of footwork, you only need to count up to three in waltz time.” I nodded again, casting my gaze down at my feet to ensure that I did not step on his toes.

But in mere moments, his hand had left my waist as he hooked a single finger under my chin and lifted my head so that I was meeting his gaze in confusion. But instead of further instruction, I was met with amusement in his voice as he smiled in an oddly smug fashion at me, “Keep your eyes up here, just like that. I will not let you go astray.”

I found myself flustering under his intent gaze that I now determinedly held as I pressed my lips together. But at odds with my awkwardness, Malleus seemed relaxed. Humming slightly to himself as if to keep us in time as he waltzed me around my front yard.

I fought the urge to clear my throat as I awkwardly broke the silence that now settled around in an almost gentle fashion, ��Sooo, we just move in a little circle like this and stay in time to the song?” 

 His eyebrows rose at my questioning, “This is the simplest variant, yes. But it can, of course, be embellished should you wish it.”

With that he spun me out and held my arm over my head, causing me to almost instinctively twirl before being pulled back over to where he waited with an amused smile on his face, “Like so.”

I fought back the urge to snort at his all-too-smug demeanor. And my amusement almost seemed to encourage him.

His eyes were alight once more as he dipped his head in towards me in a conspiratorial manner, “There are also lifts and dips that I can teach you, but I do not know how our instructors or you would feel about them.”

I shook my head in silent amusement at his smug aura before patting him on the shoulder, “Let’s just keep it simple. Shall we?”

His smile softened, losing its teasing bite as his grip tightened ever so slightly on my hand, “Of course, a waltz that is both tender and new, such as this one, has its own charm all its own, after all.”

And as easily as breathing, silence fell once more as we waltzed on through the night, accompanied only by his gentle humming and the green faerie lights that danced around us.

[psychoticallykind]

Not Exactly

"Taste" - Jegulus Microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - 398 words

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

Regulus watched James take a bite of the soup, anxiously smoothing his hands over his shirt. "Well?"

"It's wonderful," James told him. He took another spoonful. "Amazing, Reg. I love it."

Regulus narrowed his eyes. "It isn't right, is it?" He huffed, annoyed. "I followed the recipe!"

"And it's amazing," James assured him. He took one of Regulus's hands and pulled him forward a couple of steps, closing the distance between them. "Here, open."

Regulus listened, letting James feed him a spoonful of soup. And sure, it tasted good. But that wasn't the point.

"Does it taste like Lily's yet?"

James sighed. "Reg, it tastes amazing. Incredible. Just like the last ten variations."

"James." Regulus crossed his arms. "The truth, please."

"That is the truth!" James shook his head. "They've all tasted really good. This tastes incredible. Ten out of ten, five stars, perfection."

"But does it taste like Lily's?"

James closed his eyes in defeat. "Not exactly, no."

"Then I'll try again," Regulus decided.

"Will you please just ask her for the recipe?" James gave him a pleading look. "If you're really fixated on this - which you don't need to be - then just get the recipe."

"Remus said she makes the best soup, and I don't want to ask for the recipe," Regulus argued. "I can figure it out on my own."

"That's -" James stopped, taking a deep breath. Regulus admired the restraint. "I'm not doubting that you can figure it out. I just think that it would be simpler - and maybe smarter - to just ask for the recipe."

He was probably right.

Regulus was so close, though.

"Give me another week," he told James. "And maybe I'll have figured it out."

The look James gave him was a little exasperated and a little amused, but so very, very fond. "Another week of soup?"

He nodded. "Please? I think I can do it."

"I know you can do it," James replied. He raised the hand he was still holding and pressed a kiss to Regulus's palm. "Take another week. Or another month. Whatever you need."

Regulus grinned. "Really?"

"Really," James confirmed. He glanced at the bowl of soup. "But we're having something that isn't soup for dinner tonight."

Considering James had been subjected to all of his soup attempts so far, Regulus thought that was more than fair.

In the meantime, he had another variation to try.

[crusty-chronicles]

The Moon and Sun (Big Sib Reader X Gon/Killua)

Ch 18: For Whom The Bell Tolls: It Tolls For Thee

Synopsis: And then everything just fell apart.

Trigger warning: Extreme Violence

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

"You worked with the phantom troupe!!!”

You quickly covered Gon’s mouth with your hand. Looking around to see if anyone besides the two boys had heard.

“Shhh! Not so loud! And kinda.”

Ever since you'd first opened up, they wanted know everything. Down to the last detail. Of course there were parts of your childhood you'd never really be ready to discuss. But you could share the smaller things. You could talk about the games you'd play, the types of people who were in your clan, the missions you'd go on.

It was..nice. Memories you thought you'd never look back on fondly. You thought you'd never get a chance to reminisce like this. It was also the least you could do to take their minds off of things for a while. 

For the inevitable fight. 

Currently, everyone on the extermination team was heading towards East Gorteau. You and the boys included. So for however long this train ride lasted, you'd make the most of it.

“It was a way of testing me. See how well I'd get along with others given my track record. The only rule was that I couldn't talk to them.”

Oh yes. How could you forget the many lectures before you left? Ones that included your banishment if you were to fail. Though realistically, you probably would have been killed instead. 

You noticed the boys’ curious stares. You figured their friend Kurapika would have filled them in. Maybe he didn't know as much as you did. Albeit you didn't really have a choice, but still.

“It was for good reason. I heard the leader takes people's abilities. In hindsight it makes sense. He kept asking me questions.” You explained.

‘And what can you do little one?’

‘Is that your ability? How does it work?’

It was so painfully obvious looking back. They probably thought you'd be easy since you were a kid. But you were nothing if not true to your word. So you'd said absolutely nothing.

“Is that where you got the idea from?” Killua asked in reference to your new ability.

“Nah. Mines more of a substitution. I don't need to know anything about the person to take theirs.”

It was easier to toss away half your nen into the puppets you conjured. The condition was simpler. So long as you could switch last minute for a direct hit, you'd be able to mimic what they did. 

“That makes it a bigger gamble.” Gon said with a small frown. Remembering what Kite had said about his own ability. How chance made it stronger.

“C’mon. When has my speed ever failed me?” You tried to reassure.

“I guess. But just be careful.”

He'd been more clingy towards you. More protective. They both were. But the way Gon went about it felt more intense. He hardly let you go outside by yourself. Sticking stubbornly by your side. And he'd started enforcing a bedtime on you. Using those damn puppy eyes every time you refused. You felt like a fool having a kid parent you. Although the circles under your eyes did lessen.

But you reminded yourself he was just scared. He didn't want to lose anybody else. A strong desire to keep you safe after what happened with Kite. A mentality so similar to yours that you just couldn't get after him for it. If clinging onto you was what kept that dark aura at bay, then you’d just have to suck it up.

“I'm the one who's supposed to be telling you that. You're ten times as reckless.” You pointed out.

He pouted up at you, mouth opening for a rebuttal before you cut him off.

“And I better not catch you saying it's okay when you get hurt. Got it?”

He deflated. Wanting to add something but knowing you'd shut him down again. Luckily Killua was there to back him up. The fact that there were two of them always being used against you.

“But it's okay when you get hurt?” He questioned.

You scrambled for an answer. It was unfair how they ganged up on you sometimes. 

“None of us should be getting hurt if we can help it.” You settled on.

They seemed satisfied with your response, temporarily dropping the subject. It was only a matter of time before Gon perked up once more.

“Hey. Could you teach us that game you were talking about earlier?” He asked.

“I don't know. You've gotta have pretty sharp eyes to play.” You teased.

“Not too sharp considering you've got bags puffing up yours.” Killua joked.

“Hey!”

You dealt out the box of cards they'd brought. Using the opportunity to check in on them. Gon's aura was calm. Eerily so. You were worried the murkiness of his aura would rise to the surface any second. That it would consume him. You had a bad feeling about it. 

Killua’s was nervous, but determined. You'd never know he was tense by just looking at him, but his aura was plain as day. You hated to admit it, but his was the normal reaction you were expecting from both.

You briefly glanced over to the left. The men in front of you were apprehensive. About who, you couldn't really tell. The boys for both being ready? Not being strong enough? Or you being mentally unstable? Cracking under pressure because of a little blood? You'd all just have to wait and see.

You always hated the waiting game.

At least Knuckle and Shoot weren't scared of you anymore. Thanks to Morel putting in a good word for you. You’d almost say you enjoyed that old man’s company. It was nice to talk about everything for a change. Talk without fear of being judged. He didn't spill the secret of your identity to the rest, and you were immensely grateful. 

If things ended up working out after all, maybe you'd take him up on his offer to get some counseling. God knows you needed it after everything you've been through. For now, you would relish in the few hours you still had with your boys.

—---------------------------

You'd reached the city within two hours, stopping at a restaurant to stock up on food. It just so happened that a broadcast was playing. One that stated the ruler wanted everyone in Peijing to make their way to the palace. You didn't have a good feeling about it.

All those people in one place…it left plenty of room for disaster. Morel only confirmed your suspicions.

“Colt has a theory. He believes that the celebration will be used to sort the population.”

What was it that damn cat had called you? A Rare? The chimera ants seemed to be obsessed with those who possessed nen. They would most likely be eaten by the king or worse. You had a pretty good idea of what ‘worse’ was after seeing the state Kite was in. 

You didn't think ten days would be enough to save all those people. And unfortunately for them, they weren't a top priority. Everyone's focus would be on the king and his lackeys.  

There was also the issue of Netero’s whereabouts. He'd gone off on his own in East Gorteau without any backup. Telling Knov if he didn't respond today, he was most likely dead. Now while you weren't fond of the old man, you didn't want him dead. But knowing him, he was perfectly fine out there.

Ping

Right on schedule. Knov read the text on his phone before showing everyone else. His plan was to lure the royal guards away from the king starting at midnight. Great. Just great. Let your kids deal with one of those monsters. Though you knew they'd made enough progress to keep up. Netero made sure to include the ‘satellite ears’ comment from Morel as well.

“That old bastard scares the crap out of me.” He mumbled.

“Yeah? Well he irritates the hell out of me. Damn geezer always has something up his sleeve.” You added.

You beamed as the waiter served you a slice of cake. The duo next to trying to stifle their laughter at your reaction. The rest of the men at the table, however, eyed the tall pile of sweets on your plate with concern.

“That much can't be good for you.” Knuckle said, watching you scarf down another sweet.

You looked up for a brief moment. 

“Mind your business.” 

“Okay then.” He put his hands up in defense.

The hard ass who made a deal of being guarded, eating like a little kid with no dietary restrictions. It was baffling. Downing apple juice after apple juice. Cookie after cookie.

“Remember what we said. At least one real piece of food.” Gon scolded.

Giving out a small grumble, you took a bite out of your sandwich before continuing on.

—---------------------------------

All you could do was wait. You hated it. The rapid beating of your heart in anticipation. Bated breath as the seconds ticked down. Any moment now, Gon’s nen would return to him. He had done surprisingly well during training. The question now was how well he'd apply what he learned.

You could feel it, the exact moment the curse had been lifted. All at once his nen had surged through him. The little cat hovering over his shoulder was finally gone. He looked down at himself to confirm the aura around him.

“Well alright. It looks like you can use nen again. Go on, try it out.” Knuckle encouraged him.

Before he could try anything, Morel called out to him.

“Gon…”

The boy in green gave his full attention.

“Sorry, but I'm not convinced we should keep you around.”

A small feeling of protectiveness came over you. They make these kids train like hell only to go back on their word? You didn't think so. Although you hadn't wanted them here in the first place. But it was too late to turn back now.

“Show me your resolve,” He continued on, discarding his shirt to prepare for an attack.

“Pretend I'm the enemy who did all that to Kite.”

You could feel Gon’s aura shift into something darker. He really shouldn't have said that. The dark murkiness you've been trying to help keep at bay was slowly rising to the surface.

“If your attack isn't powerful enough, I'll call for a replacement hunter.” Morel was only adding fuel to the fire.

“A real attack?” Gon questioned.

You didn't have a good feeling about this. Kite was a sensitive subject. To use that as a means to provoke Gon… You knew damn well that kid could do damage just fine without nen. You didn't know what he was capable of with it. And it worried you. For his sake more than his opponent’s.

“Yes dammit! Give me everything you've got or you're off the team.” 

A steady anger, and then it was gone. Once again Gon's aura had been eerily calm. Approaching Morel slowly before responding.

“Got it.”

He stood still for a moment, then all at once a feeling of bloodlust consumed him. The intent to kill evident as the aura built in his fist. From the others, you could sense their shock. Their fear. You were in a similar boat.

For a split second, you were afraid. Trembling at the force of his power. For a second, you were reminded of him. The onslaught of ren that poured out. The malice. 

“Show me rock!”

It felt like you couldn't breathe. Killua, taking notice of your panicked state, went to calm down Gon. He was overdoing it, especially if it was scaring you. So he put a hand on Gon’s shoulder. The aura in his fist disappearing almost instantly.

“Gon, that's enough.”

You could breathe again. That was exactly what you were worried about. He was just a kid. You didn't want him to do something he'd regret. To have blood on his hands at such a young age. But there was only so much you could do.

“Am I right, old man?” Killua asked Morel.

The older man took a few deep breaths. Trying to calm the racing of his own heart. If that was Gon’s raw strength, there was no telling what he could do with your training. Good. They really needed an ace in their hole.

“...Yeah ..” He answered at last.

Gon seemed to snap out of the daze he was in. Jumping up in shock with his own actions. He turned around and offered Killua a ‘thanks’ for stopping him. He turned back to Morel and clasped his hands together in an apology.

“Sorry Mr. Morel! I really was just about to kill you!”

It felt like all the air in your body escaped from your lungs. That wasn't right. But Morel just laughed him off.

“You got me real good there kid!”

It felt all too similar to the way you grew up. Being praised for having no limits. You couldn't have been the only one who was worried. The only one who was scared he'd cross a line he couldn't come back from. You felt like you were going insane. 

Gon looked back over at you expecting your usual praise. Instead he was met with your somber expression. It was too close to the way you'd looked the last time you were in the NGL. He wonders if he scared you. The thought makes him feel icky inside.

He approaches you and hugs you as tight as he can. It's the only thing he can think to do. Whether it's to reassure him or you, he can't tell. 

“I didn't mean to. I know I'm not supposed to get that worked up. Not yet at least. I'm sorry.”

It takes you a second to respond. Trying to collect your thoughts after the intensity of that moment. Of what was surely to come.

“You're fine. Just, don't get too carried away.” You reassured. 

He relaxes at the feeling of you hugging him back.

But you didn't believe the words tumbling out of your mouth.

—---------------------------------

It wasn't hard for the three of you to infiltrate East Gorteau. In fact, it was almost too easy. Still, none of you could risk being caught. It didn't help there were so many people on the lookout for intruders.

You continued on to the meeting point, listening as Killua explained the situation to Gon. How the people here were just itching to rat each other out for some money.

“My older brother told me everything, and he probably heard it from grandpa.”

Killua didn't talk about his family often, and you couldn't blame him. But he seemed to respect his Grandfather. He spoke about him with something just shy of fondness. You were glad he had some family he could rely on. 

You stopped short near the ledge of a cliff. The three of you ducking down quickly.

“A town?” Gon questioned.

“Yeah a tiny one.” Killua confirmed.

You used your eyes to focus on the nearest homes. Empty. You used your en to scan for people next. Nothing. The town was completely abandoned.

“So what now?” Gon looked between you and Killua for a plan.

“We sneak in.” 

“No need. Everyone's gone.” You informed.

They knew better than to question your assessment. Your eyes were never wrong. So it was on to the next step of the plan: finding out just what the hell happened. 

“Stay here then. We'll investigate. You don't need to see anything you don't have to.” Killua instructed.

You gave a small nod. Freaking out over potential corpses was the last thing you needed. If you could stall seeing anything too gruesome, you'd have a better chance during the big fight. Or any fight for that matter.

You watched as the two of them disappeared into the town. Tracking their auras as they went. Gon peeked his head out and gestured for you to come over. You took cautious steps towards them. Knowing your luck you'd probably slip. 

“They've already begun sorting. Most of the people were already buried, and not very deep either. It was a good thing you hung back.” Killua explained.

Good to know you're original ten days was just wishful thinking. You couldn't help but feel bad for these people. No technology and no way to know what was going on in their country.

“They can't even call for help.” You said softly. 

“It's not all bad news,” Killua tried to comfort.

“If my theory is correct, it'll be easy to stop them. We just cause a commotion and the selection will totally stop.”

“In theory it'll be easy. But we have to be prepared for anything.” You warned.

Like counter measures for said commotions. If Pitou could control people, chances are the leader was under control too. His word was law here. There'd be no resistance if he suggested something under the ants' influence.

“Yeah but considering the amount of people the ants have to sort, there's no way they sent nen users to do it. It's most likely Pitou's ability. And if that's the case, this'll all be a sitch.” Killua explained.

“We just have to pop up, take out whoever's being controlled, and cause a panic. And after that. We'll encourage the people who escaped to go off and check on other nearby towns.”

It was a decent plan. The only issue was…Right as you were thinking it, the small assassin already had it covered.

“The problem is they'll detect us quickly. Once we make our move, they'll know. If we wanna go through with the old man’s plan, we should keep as low a profile as we possibly can.” 

You'd almost forgotten he was used to be stealthy. That he was in his element here in the dark and unsuspecting.

“It's your call.” He addressed you and Gon.

The boy in green agreeing almost immediately. Determination radiating off him. 

“Let's do it. If the selection has already begun, we can't just simply ignore it.”

The looked up at you for your answer. A damn shame how much you've changed in just one year. If this was still when you were on Greed Island, you would've told them to stick to the mission at hand. Lives at stake be damned. But you were different now. Softer. And the thoughts of self preservation you were used to having weren't present. Instead was the rational that you couldn't exactly let people die.

“If we go through with this, we've gotta be careful.” You responded at last.

“Alright, let's go!” Killua instructed before stopping in his tracks. He took a breath before facing you and Gon.

“But I'm gonna do it alone. You two stay hidden.”

“Stay hidden!!? But wouldn't it be better if we-” Gon started, but Killua had cut him off.

“Don't forget our primary mission. We have to take Pitou down. That should be your focus.” It had come out more defensive than he wanted. He swore he could feel your eyes focus in on him as the words left his mouth.

“You let me handle everything else, alright? I'll stir things up,” he said softer.

“And uh no offense, but this'll be a lot easier to do alone.”

“Like hell you'll do this alone!” You argued.

The last thing you wanted was to split up. It made it easier for the enemies to pick off one by one. Yet Killua wasn't budging on the subject. Resolve strong in his eyes when he spoke.

“Look I know you're used to doing this, but I'm sure there's more villages like the first one. The moment you freak out is the moment we lose a fighter. Maybe if you weren't…” He stopped himself, trying to phrase what he was gonna say right.

If you weren't so traumatized by blood, you'd be more useful. He'd never say something like that to you again. Or, he'd try his damn best not to.

“If things were different you'd be able to help me fully. But you're our best bet at scouting and Gon’s our strongest fighter. So… just sit this one out. The both of you.” 

You could sense his worry. It made you faulter for a second.

“Yeah, I get it.” Gon said, knowing you and him would just get in Killua’s way. 

“Do you?” The small assassin questioned.

“Huh?” He did a double take at his best friend's words.

“Do you really think you get it?”

“Killua?”

“Then promise me something!” It was a plea. Looking between you and Gon quickly.

“Both of you! Don't make a move! Even if people are killed right in front of you! Promise me!”

He remembered the way you two had reacted at the factory. You'd both lunged forward when those people were killed. Only being stopped by Kite’s quick thinking. He didn't want the same thing happening again. 

You could sense his panic rise. A desperation to keep you two safe at all costs. He was almost begging for you two not to do anything. What the hell was the association putting these kids through? What would they go through before the end of the ten days?

Gon didn't answer. You didn't think he could. As much as he loved Killua, he had his morals. He was a stubborn kid who wouldn't go back on them either. So you answered instead. You could abide by Killua’s conditions if he could abide by yours.

“Sure I'll promise you. As long as you promise me you'll come back no matter what. If there's an enemy stronger than you, you'll run.” 

It was like you were in a standoff. His resolve waivered in the presence of yours. He was tired of running away from fights, and you knew that. Then there was the matter of him coming back. He didn't know what to expect out there. He couldn't promise you what he couldn't guarantee. And he couldn't force you and Gon to do the same. 

His resolve crumbled, giving in to yours. 

“I'll text you okay? Our cell phones should still work in the area.” He tried to diffuse, but you wouldn't let him off the hook that easily.

“You can't just change the subject.”

There was a small amount of guilt radiating off him. But there was still the worry from earlier. 

“I know. I'm Sorry. Don't worry about it. I'm just a little on edge.” He explained.

The mission was already taking its toll on both boys. They shouldn't have the weight of the world on their shoulders at such a young age. You'd curse the association to your dying breath. When this was over, you'd all need some counseling. 

You offered up what you hoped was a reassuring smile.

“It's okay to be scared and worried. I know I am. But we help each other. It's the only way we can get through this. You know that right?”

You could feel him start to relax, steadily gaining back his resolve.

“I know.” He responded.

Gon put his hand on his shoulder and gave a reassuring squeeze.

“If anything goes wrong, we'll be there to help you.” He added. 

It felt like Killua was engulfed in warmth. Like you all weren't about to march to your potential deaths. It was why he was so scared of losing you both. But he had to have faith in your abilities. Trust that you could get the job done and make it back. 

“Right. I've got your backs too!”

The three of you continued to walk for a while, but something felt off. It felt like something was watching you. The unmistakable sensation of eyes on your back. Then for a split second, you sensed a presence.

Someone was following you. The aura wasn't malicious from what you could tell. Just cautious. Like they were scoping you out. The presence would appear and disappear at one minute intervals. It was probably some sort of nen ability. 

You didn't want to leave the boys by themselves, but you couldn't risk either of them getting hurt right now. You had to be smart about this. 

“Hey, you two go on ahead.” You called out.

“Is something wrong?” Gon asked.

You made sure to keep talking while you signed slowly.

‘Enemy behind.’

“I just need to check something out. It won't take me long.”

The duo nodded in understanding. Never had you been prouder to see them sign ‘safe.’ Slow and meticulous, but the word all the same. You were glad you were able to teach them something useful. 

They took off without you, leaving you to deal with who was following. He'd show himself every minute. All you had to do was wait him out.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

You summoned a strand of nen and shot it straight behind you. There was a noise of surprise as it wrapped completely around the enemy. You tugged them close to you, turning around to face your stalker.

“You know I'm too fond of being followed.”

Your tone was cold as you stared down the chameleon chimera ant. He shook in your presence. Eyes wide at the fact you'd caught him. He'd wanted to continue following one of the boys. This was not good.

“You better have a damn good reason or you're dead.”

He tried to formulate a sentence. Tried to speak, but your resolve was suffocating. Your eyes looked at him like he was nothing. All that came out of his mouth was-

“How did you-!”

But you'd cut him off by tightening your nen around his neck.

“The next words out of your mouth better be an answer. I don't have time for games.”

He panicked, blurting out the first thing he could think of to get him out of trouble.

“I want to defeat the king!”

Your intimidating expression changing into one of confusion.

“What?”

He could feel your nen weaken around him. That was a good sign. He continued to talk, believing more in his chances of convincing you.

“He's a monster. He killed and ate his own men when he was born. He needs to be stopped.” Meleleron explained.

“I thought I'd watch the three of you. See if you were strong enough for the task before I asked for help. I wasn't trying to attack you.”

Your eyes scanned him for any deceit. There was none. All you could sense was determination and fear. Scared of you, yet still wanting to complete his goal. You let him go, releasing your nen.

“Okay.”

“Okay!?! Just like that? You're not gonna interrogate me?” He pushed, unbelieving it was that easy.

“I can see when someone's lying to me. Don't worry, I'd know if you were trying to lure me into a trap.”

It was a thinly veiled threat. One that promised his death if he betrayed you. He'd take it. If you could see when he was being genuine, it only worked in his favor.

“Okay. Where to begin…”

He explained to the situation at hand. How his father figure was eaten by the king. How few ants stayed by the king’s side while the rest left to create their own castles. His plan for catching him off guard. Using his ability to become invisible before attacking. How he needed someone strong enough to carry out the plan. 

“Your best bet is Gon. He's most likely to listen to you. Killua would kill you on the spot.” You said.

“Why can't you help me? You're fast. We'd be able to take the king completely off guard.”

You shook your head. Despite how it looked like, you knew you weren't the best person for the job. Call it a hunch.

“I'm not a fighter. And I've got a personal fight I need to be ready for. I also choke up. Can't stand the sight of blood. Gon’s your best bet. I'm sure he's stronger than me now anyways.”

And Killua was faster. They'd done well in their respective categories. You just hoped it'd be enough. You looked Meleoron head on. 

“Test him if you want…but if you go too far I'll make you suffer.” You warned.

You cared about those boys. It was easy for him to see. As long as you were vouching for the boy in green, he'd take up the offer, and he'd do his damn best not to rough him up too much.

“Right. I'll get going. Thank you for trusting me.”

He took off without a second glance. You were once again on your own. You decided to try and make your way towards the palace. If nothing else, you could take out a few of Pitou's puppets. 

You set a steady pace. Slowing your heart rate little by little. If the ants sensed you now, you'd come off as nothing more than a small animal. They wouldn't recognize you as human. For all the shit your clan put you through, they taught you some pretty helpful tricks. 

Things seemed to be going well before you sensed it. Another presence following you. They weren't concealing themselves either. In fact, they were right above you. You looked up and we're met with a familiar ant. The same one that tried to ambush you the night everything went to shit.

It seemed to recognize you too. Owlish eyes widening before it tried to fly away. So much for going undetected. You gave chase, following directly under it.

“I'm not gonna let you get away!” You shouted, preparing to restrain it.

Right as you were about to summon your nen, a fist made harsh contact on your face. You skidded to the side from the force.

You'd been so distracted, you didn't sense the other ant. You'd fallen for that damn owl’s trap. You braced your legs, looking up at your assailant. A cheetah ant. It beamed at you, sharp teeth on full display.

“I was looking for a meal. Thank you for volunteering!” 

You were really starting to hate cats. You watched the owl ant make its escape. It was most likely gathering information on everybody's abilities. How you all fought. He was a problem. You didn't have time to deal with this new ant.

Judging by his cocky aura, he wouldn't be much of a challenge anyways. He was weak. The only reason he got a hit on you was because you weren't paying attention. 

“You're a Rare, aren't you? This'll be so much fun! Try not to die too early, okay?”

You dodged as he went to strike again, claws fully outstretched. He glared at you. It was then you noticed the small being floating by his side. That was Knuckle’s ability. So this was the ant that got away? You could see why he'd give the others trouble.

But he wouldn't be able to beat you.

“Lucky guess, but you won't be able to dodge my next attack. You humans have got nothing on my speed!”

He rushed towards you once more. Right before he could make contact, you grabbed his wrist. A cruel grin on your face.

“Fast?” You questioned.

He tried to pull back, but your grip was unrelenting. 

“Let go of me!”

He used his free hand to try and slash your face. You caught it too, applying pressure to his wrist. He caught your eyes and froze. You almost looked amused. It made him feel something he'd never felt before. Fear. 

You looked at Cheetu like you knew something he didn't. You weren't afraid of dying. No… You didn't think he could kill you. And then you spoke. Something in your voice had a shiver running down his spine.

“You're so pathetic I might just laugh. Oh you poor creature. You don't even know what speed is. Here, let me show you!”

The grip on his wrist vanished, as did you. His eyes unable to track where you went. He could smell it on you now. The blood imbedded in your scent. You were like them. A monster like the royal guards. 

He shook the thought from his head. A strong Rare? Yeah right. You were nothing compared to him. A slow weakling. He had no reason to be so shaken up by you. It was just an empty threat made to make him lose his cool. He'd kill you in no time.

“Henry, attack!”

It happened so suddenly. One minute he was standing, about to track your scent and put an end to you. The next, his head was rolling on the ground. On his shoulders was a small jester marionette. Its hand morphed into a blade.

Your shoes came into his vision. His eyes trailed up to meet yours in disbelief.

“It can't be! What the hell are you!?!” He shouted.

You couldn't have been that fast. You were a human! 

“Someone who doesn't have time for your insolence. I'm done wasting time on you,” you answered.

You snapped your fingers, signaling for your puppet to finish the job. You looked away as it jumped up, using as much force as possible to slam into the ant’s skull. You could feel the blood splatter onto your clothes. You thought you would have grown used to the sight of blue blood. 

You were wrong. 

Shaking as the warmth seeped into your clothes. The feeling of vile scratching at your throat. You shook your head, preparing to make your way to the meeting point once more.

When you got there, you waited for Knov to open up the portal. You fell into the small room, still trembling from earlier. Everyone was here except Gon and Killua. Your heart beat even faster in your chest.

“You okay?” Morel asked, noticing your dazed state.

“Change of clothes. Now.” You ordered.

You don't remember who tossed you your bag of clothes, but you were grateful all the same. Throwing your bloodied clothes the furthest you could from you as you changed. You hugged yourself to try and calm down. Taking in shaky breaths.

There was no blood on you, and still you felt dirty. You hated being so weak in front of others. But all you could think about was your boys. Killua running from town to town and Gon doing who knows what out there.

“You good kid?” Morel asked once more.

You nodded your head slowly.

“I'll be fine. I just need a minute. I managed to get rid of the ant Knuckle fought.” You informed.

“You got rid of Cheetu? That's awesome! Thanks a lot!” Knuckle said, patting you on the back.

“Mhm.”

You flinched slightly at the gesture, which was immediately picked up by the older man in the room. 

“Give them some space for a while.” He instructed Knuckle before addressing you.

“We still have plenty of time before the selection. You can recoup for a while.”

You gave a small nod. You just hoped your boys were okay.

—---------------------------------

Gon stared down the chameleon ant before him. Its hands were raised in defense as it spoke.

“I've been watching you for a while now. I didn't plan on showing myself so soon, but things changed. Safe to say, you surpassed my expectations.” He explained.

Gon was about to let his guard down when he remembers something. You said somebody was following the three of you. And you'd gone to check it out. This thing was capable of concealing its presence. 

It was the same ant.

He released an angry ten in an instant. Summoning as much nen as he could into his fist.

“What did you do to Y/n!”

Meleoron couldn't help but freeze. Twice now his life had been threatened. And you'd said this kid would be more likely to hear him out. Look how that was turning out.

“Nothing! I swear!” He pleaded. 

Gon glared at him, unbelieving that he hadn't done something to you.

“If you hurt them, I'll kill you!”

He was more quick to aggression here. More on edge than he'd ever been. Especially when it concerned you and Killua. Right as he was about to strike, the ant blurted out the first thing he could think of.

“We're friends! They caught me following them, and I explained myself. They gave me the go ahead to ask for your help. If you think I could take them in a fight, you're severely overstimulating my abilities!”

All at once Gon’s aura dissipated. His guard was still up, but he was less hostile.

“You promise they're fine?” He asked.

“Swear on my life. You can call them.”

He relaxed completely at the confirmation.

“I believe you.”

“Just like that!?!?” The ant exclaimed, once again caught by surprise at how easy it was to convince one of you.

Now that Gon was thinking about it, he may have overreacted. You weren't weak. And you were quick enough to get out of any trouble. You were fine, he was sure of it. 

“Well yeah. Y/n would never be beaten by you. And if you did hurt them…Then I won't have to show you any mercy. I could just kill you, you know?” He responded.

The look in his eye was very reminiscent of yours. Cold with the intent to follow through. But it quickly softened up.

“I just worry about them. I know they're strong, but it's different here.” 

Pitou’s here. 

He didn't want to lose you the same way he'd lost Kite. He promised himself he'd do anything to stop that from happening.

“Man. You two are scary when you're mad.” Meleleron mumbled under his breath.

—-----------------------------------

Your head perked up at the sound of someone entering the room. You weren't as frazzled as before. Directing your attention to the person in the hopes it was one of the boys.

Your eyes landed on Gon first, then on Meleoron. You let out a sigh of relief.

“Oh? You met the lizard guy. Good.”

“Mhm. He told me you two were friends. I'm so proud of you!” Gon praised.

You weren't the best around people. So to see you made a friend on your own, he was happy for you. But you looked confused by the statement. Face scrunching up.

“Easy. I told him I trusted him. The friends thing is an overstatement.” You explained.

“Well he was gonna kill me if I didn't say I knew you!” Meleoron argued.

“It's your fault for following him.”

“You told me to!!!! Gah! I don't like you at all.” He pointed an accusing finger at you. 

Against your better judgement, you almost laughed. But then you remembered you were still missing your other kid. 

“Killua isn't with you?” You asked.

Gon shook his head.

“We spit up after you left.”

Damn. You didn't have a good feeling about this. Especially with that scout ant still out there. The entire room seemed to go quiet at the information. Killua was the only one missing. And he usually stuck very closely to the plan.

“Do you think…?” Shoot started.

An uncomfortable feeling churned in your gut.

“Let's give him another hour. Besides, we still have a few days left. We can afford to give him that much time.” Morel tried to comfort.

Sensing your distress, Gon sat next to you. He put his head on your shoulder. You could feel worry in his aura, try as he might not to show it. Yet you could tell he was still hopeful Killua would be back.

“Killua will be fine. He won't be beaten so easily.” He assured.

You wanted to believe him, but you couldn't just sit back and do nothing. You summoned half of your nen into your palm. Conjuring a small figure. The ballerina marionette looked up at you, awaiting its orders.

“Find Killua. Return to me in two days if you can't.”

It gave a salute before taking off. 

Your lucky day. 

More waiting.

—--------------------------

Killua felt his body giving out. He'd lost too much blood. He knew he did, collapsing into a puddle of it. A small smile made its way to his face. You probably would have passed out seeing this much. Probably scold him for getting hurt too. He was just glad it was him instead of you.

‘Promise me you'll come back no matter what.’

He blinked slowly. Imagine if he'd made that promise? He would have broken it, and you were never supposed to break a promise to a friend. 

“Sorry, Y/n. I know how you feel about losing another kid. But it's not your fault this time.”

He spoke out into the abyss with the last of his strength. He knew you'd put this on your shoulders. You always did when something went wrong. So much guilt on your conscience.

“It wasn't your fault the first time either.”

He didn't want to add into your trauma, but he could feel himself fading. He wished you could've met Alluka. She would've loved you. And he knows you would've loved to have a little sister again.

He was so grateful he got to meet you. To have someone like you who saw his worth past his assassin potential. He wanted you to be happy. He wanted you to heal. 

“I love you.” 

He thinks he might've traded his own mother and father if it meant he'd get to bask in your warmth again.

He was grateful for Gon too. For him always being on his side. Seeing nothing but the good in him. His first real friend. He didn't want to leave him either.

“Gon…Please take care of them. They're gonna need you. I'm sorry…I wasn't…any help.”

His body felt cold. He didn't have any strength to push himself up. You wouldn't miss him that much anyways. As long as you had Gon, you'd be fine. You seemed to love him more anyways. He tried to console himself with the thought. Although a part of him knew it wasn't true.

He saw a pair of small feet enter his spotty vision. He heard a piercing shriek. And then darkness.

He awoke to the feeling of something on his chest. He was surprised to wake up at all. He opened his eyes slowly, adjusting to the sudden brightness. He made out the small figure sitting on him.

What was your puppet doing here? 

“Hey Shika. Y/n sent you after me, huh?” He greeted with a smile.

It nodded. 

He doesn't know why it made him so happy. That you cared.

“The little thing didn't leave your side the entire time you were out.” A familiar voice spoke. 

He directed his vision to the side. It was that octopus ant. Ikalgo? He must've been the one that saved him. Now that he thinks about it, he faintly remembered the feeling of being carried.

“How long was I out for?” he asked.

“Three days.”

“TWO DAYS! THEY'RE GONNA KILL ME!”

He took out the IVs from his arms. Getting up as fast as he could to make his way over to you and Gon. You were gonna be so pissed at him.

—--------------------------------------

Shika was still gone. That was a good thing, it meant she found Killua. It meant he was alive out there. It was the only thing that brought you comfort while you waited. 

You glanced over at Knov. He was…well he was mentally fucked. He fell apart at just a glimpse of Pitou's en. You didn't blame him. You'd freaked out too the first time you felt it. But now was not the time. It was one fighter down. 

And then there was Palm. You hadn't heard a word from her. She should've said something by now. Despite getting off on the wrong foot, you'd grown fond of her. You couldn't imagine the weight on her shoulders right now. They'd thrown her right into the lion’s den.

Then there was the matter of how she'd take Knov’s breakdown. The man she loved was physically aging from his fear. Chances are it wouldn't go over well. 

You felt Gon tug on your sleeve. You redirected your attention to him, watching as he pointed up. The portal opened and in finally came Killua.

Thank god.

“Killua!” Gon called out before tackling him in a hug.

He gave out a noise of surprise as he stumbled back. He rebounded quickly, however, and returned the boy in green’s enthusiasm.

“See? I made it out just fine.”

Fine? He was covered in bandages. Just what the hell happened to him. Did you really want to know? You decided it didn't matter, walking towards him slowly.

You were close enough for him to try and make out your expression. You looked drained.

“Are you mad at me?” He asked.

He was caught off guard when you crouched down and pulled him into a hug, cradling his head tightly.

“Don't you ever do that again.”

He could feel you shaking. He didn't mean to make you worry. But despite everything, he couldn't help but smile. You really did care about him. And it's not like peaceful moments like these would last. So he took it all in. Hugging you back tightly.

“I promise I won't. I've got you to protect me, remember?” He tried to lighten the mood, yet you hugged him tighter.

“My precious baby. I was so scared.”

Was it weird he felt like crying? Being loved was such a strange feeling. He thinks his mom would've blown a fuse seeing you coddle him. He doesn't care. Not one bit as you continued to hug him.

You looked over his shoulder, catching the gaze of another chimera ant. This one being an octopus.

“You made a friend?” You asked, hesitantly releasing him.

He couldn't hide his embarrassment when you let him go. Not wanting the other hunters to see him being soft.

“Yeah. He's pretty cool. Just don't call him an octopus.” He responded.

You stood up to your full height, staring down this new ant with scrutiny.

“You give my kid any problems, Squidward?”

He gaped at you. Eyes wide in shock 

“Did…did you just call me squid!?!!”

He turned towards Killua with stars in his eyes.

“Killua I love your big sibling!”

That was unexpected.

Killua stood in front of you protectively.

“You better not! They already have a partner!”

You slapped a hand to your forehead.

“You're such a gremlin. Now you,” you pointed towards the octopus ant.

“Answer the question.”

He stood unwavering in your presence. You were surprised to see a surge of loyalty in his aura.

“I would die if it meant helping Killua out.”

His resolve was strong. 

Geez, these kids had a habit for picking up strange friends. Although you couldn't complain. You needed all the help you could get.

“Well that settles it.” You approved.

Killua high fived him, introducing Ikalgo to Gon while he introduced Meleoron. It filled you with warmth to see your boys back together again. Yet you couldn't get past this gnawing feeling in your gut. The one you always got when something was about to happen. 

It was foreboding.

Over the next three days, you went over the plan. You, Killua, and Gon would take on Pitou. Knuckle, Meleoron, and Shoot would take Youpi. Morel would have to deal with Pouf by himself. Ikalgo was tasked with finding Palm. Something you wouldn't admit had you letting out a sigh of relief.

Waiting, waiting, waiting.

It was all you could do while the others plotted for what could go wrong. You don't remember if you've ever been this anxious, your leg bouncing up and down. 

Pitou had healing abilities, or at least you think they did. But what if that wasn't enough to fix Kite? What if he was beyond fixing? Was there any other way you could bring him back? 

You hated how everything was building up. This feeling of dread. Moving from one location to the other. Getting closer and closer to the castle. To your potential doom. It had you chewing on your lip next. Biting at the skin there until it was raw.

Five minutes until midnight.

You decided to ask what was weighing so heavily on your mind.

“What are the other two guards’ abilities?”

Meleoron and Ikalgo looked at each other in thought. The octopus spoke first.

“Pouf has this weird ability. He can give someone a completely different nen type. If there's a specific ability they want, he can grant it.” He explained.

Not good. Was that why there were still so many ants loyal to the king? The chance of becoming more powerful calling to them like a moth to the flame. 

“That's not all. The way he goes about it…It's like the ant was reborn,” Meleoron added.

“He wraps them in a cocoon. Depending on how much was changed, it could take a few hours or a few days before the ant emerges again. It's how they plan to make soldiers out of all the people sorted.”

You felt a flicker of hope. Maybe…Maybe you could substitute it. You just had to be quick. One wrong move and you were dead. You'd be at half power, but it would be worth a shot.

Okay. You had a back up. It helped soothe your nerves a bit. Not enough to get rid of the dread you were feeling.

What was in store for you?

“One minute!” Morel called out.

You tensed as you got up. Everyone around you prepared for battle. You could feel everyone's nerves. Their resolve. Whatever happened now, it would be out of your control. You spared a glance towards Gon and Killua one last time.

You'd protect them no matter what. Even if you had to break your promise to Kari. 

You waited as the last ten seconds ticked down. It was then you finally realized what was wrong. You started shaking. The malicious aura buried so deep inside Gon had consumed him completely. 

“GO!!!!” Morel shouted.

At his command, all of you made a break for it out the door. There was nothing you could do right now. You had to get through this first hurdle first.

What was this power?

Never mind the red beasts on the steps. What was this raw power? No intent to kill, but so overpowering you almost faltered. The building shook from the force. 

Youpi, you presumed, morphed his body to attack. So much happened in just one second. Morel’s smoke screen. The building caving away to golden streaks of nen. Knuckle getting in the first hit. 

You continued running, going right in front of the boys as a precaution. ‘Get past the steps.’ you repeated in your head. Keep going. You could look back later. 

You were fighting with yourself not to let your en scan around you. You couldn't risk letting it clash with another royal guard’s. If you did, you were all screwed. You couldn't even check to see if the boys were still behind you.

All at once, Youpi smashed the steps behind you. You could feel the ground give way slightly, yet still you pushed on. The stairs didn't matter. As long as the boys were okay. 

You relaxed slightly hearing their footfalls behind you. Two pairs of footsteps. Then one. You froze, watching Gon breeze past you without a second thought. You looked back to see Killua running in the opposite direction. Your eyes catching Ikalgo’s aura.

Thinking on your feet, you sent one of your puppets after Killua. You didn't waste a second chasing after Gon. He needed you more right now. He wasn't thinking rationally. If there was one thing you knew about Killua, it was that he kept a level head. Half of your nen should be enough to help him. 

You continued to make your way outside. Eyes widening seeing Morel’s ability. If he was there, then the king was somewhere else entirely. Gon, having noticed the same thing, took off in another direction. And just before you could enter another building, he stopped short. Body tensing.

You followed his gaze.

You didn't believe what you were seeing. The amount of power swirling around some sort of ant. No, it wasn't just some ant. It had to be the king. His aura radiated acceptance. He wasn't angry or malicious. Not a trace of bloodlust. He held himself high without any worry.

Even if you were at full power, even if you were in your prime…You could never take him on. No one from your former clan could. For the first time since you were seven, you felt lesser. Insignificant in this thing’s presence. 

Was that Netero?

He saw you and Gon, gesturing behind himself with a grin. One that said they're all yours. 

That stupid old bastard!

That fucking idiot!

You were swept away in a surge of furious, vengeful aura. So incredibly dark and full of malintent you had to take a step away. The feeling was suffocating. Undeniably, it felt evil.

You wanted to snap him out of it. You wanted to see her in his eyes. But he was getting closer and closer to the edge of no return. That old geezer shouldn't have goaded him on. Morel shouldn't have pushed him earlier. 

What could you do? 

You couldn't tell him not to fight. This was personal. And he'd only double down if you tried. Knock him out maybe? He'd never forgive you for it, but you were running out of options. All you knew was as of right now, Pitou couldn't be killed.

They needed to be alive to fix Kite. 

“Gon! Y/n!” Killua called out.

You forced yourself to turn around, seeing Henry sitting on his shoulder before he transferred back to you. Your nen whole once again.

He frowned seeing your shaken up state. Then his eyes landed on his grandfather. He took in the situation fully. Netero and his grandfather had the King. Which meant…Pitou was in the tower.

He wanted to open his mouth to scold you for using your ability. Tell you not to waste it on making sure he was okay. But the sound of Gon’s voice made him freeze. Like you, he could feel something wasn't right. 

“Pitou is right over there.” Never had Gon’s tone been this cold.

How could the sun be hiding so much darkness?

“Let's go,” He ordered.

Killua stayed behind as Gon continued on his way. He could feel his eyes watering. His lip trembling. He wanted to ask why. What exactly was Gon asking of him? He didn't want to believe that he…

“It's gonna be okay, Killua. I promise you.” Your voice snapped him from his thoughts.

You reached down to swipe away his tears. He allowed himself to break in front of you, if only for a moment.

“But he's never… he's never spoken like that before. Like we weren't friends. How am I supposed to ignore that?” He sobbed, wrapping his arms around you in an attempt to seek out comfort.

He didn't know what you could do, but he wanted you to do something. He wanted you to get Gon back to normal. He always listened to you. 

“You don't. I don't want to tell you to push your feelings down, but we have to wait until this is over to talk to him.” You tried to reassure.

“He's hurting real bad right now. Whether he knows it or not, he needs our support right now.”

You pulled back to stare him in the eye.

“Please, stay strong a little longer for me.”

He nodded feebly, wiping at the snot and tears on his face. If you said things would be okay, he believed you. He composed himself the best he could. Grabbing at your hand like a child as you followed after Gon.

He was surprised to see his Grandfather still there.

“Hey there.” The old man greeted.

Your protective aura immediately wrapped around both boys. Zeno raised a brow at that. His eyes trailing down to where Killua was still clasping your hand tightly. He got it now.

So that was why he changed so much. Why he stood a little taller now. It should've made the boy weak, your care towards him. Instead, it'd made him stronger. No use dwelling on it. He did what he came here to do.

“If you'll excuse me, my job here is done. I know nothing beyond the mission I was given.”

The words were ominous. The feeling of dread only amplifying. 

“Killua, when you get inside, you make the call.” The old man prompted. 

“Make the call?” Killua said, confused by the implications of his grandfather’s words. 

He said nothing else, leaving the three of you alone. 

You didn't know what you were expecting. Perhaps for the manic aura you'd encountered that night to be full force. You couldn't possibly have predicted the sight in front of you. You didn't want to believe it either. After everything that cat ant put you through…After what they put Kite through…

Pitou was healing a girl. 

All their aura gone and placed into the nurse-like creature next to them. Putting all their focus into making sure the girl was okay. It made your stomach churn uncomfortably. You could see it in their aura. Pitou had changed. You didn't think the bloodthirsty creature could. Couldn't fathom the newfound humanity they'd gained.

They deserved to suffer.

They tried to kill you.

And yet you were willing to reach a compromise.

Something must've been fucked in your head to feel a shred of sympathy for this thing. Pitou turned around slowly to face the three of you. A protective fear radiating off them. It was ironic. So many people had died at the hands of this creature, and yet it was putting everything on the line for one girl. What could've caused this?

Gon's malicious aura spiked. It had you trembling.

“Do you remember who I am.” He said lowly.

His demeanor reminded you of Father. You didn't know how to bring him back in. You were scared to try.

“My name is Gon Freecs! And I came here for one reason! To make you restore Kite!” 

His voice felt like it was rumbling off the walls. Pitou kneeled protectively in front of the girl. It looked like…A bear protecting its cub.

You hated this thing. Hated how the situation reminded you of your own. So much going on at once, you struggled to find one thing to focus on. You couldn't think with the outpour of Gon’s menacing aura. 

His eyes looked between Pitou and the girl. Hands clenching in a searing anger. His output increasing that much more.

“Get away from her. Now.” He demanded.

Pitou was still. The panic in their aura rising. Gon stalked towards them. You tried to force your feet after him, but you couldn't move. 

“I said step away from her. And take that monster with you.” He glared at Pitou's ability.

He probably thought they were hurting the girl. But the more rational part of your brain new better. He didn't want the girl getting in his way. This wasn't the Gon you knew and loved. This wasn't the same kid who thought with his heart first. 

“I came here so I could make Kite whole again! So come and fight me!” He shouted.

Pitou immediately placed their hands on the floor. Palms up as a show of submission. It temporarily shocked Gon into letting up on his ren. You were in a similar state of disbelief.

How the hell could so much change in such a short time? 

“Please. Just wait a while.” Their voice was shaky. Pleading for the chance to fix that girl.

But the anger that had been bottled up for months needed an outlet. Gon needed to lash out. Anything that would alleviate the grief and guilt in his chest. He was blind to anything else. Murky aura amplifying tenfold by the humanity Pitou displayed.

“ARE YOU KIDDING! WHY THE HELL SHOULD I WAIT FOR YOU!?! GET UP! WE'RE GOING OUTSIDE!”

He planned on killing them. You couldn't let him. No matter how upset he was. If Pitou died, the plan was over. Kite would be gone forever. So why the hell weren't you speaking up? Why was your voice caught in your throat? 

Gon approached closer to Pitou. 

“I'LL DO ANYTHING!” They pleaded in a last ditch effort to keep him away.

“I'll do anything you want me to do! But you have to wait. Because I…I have to save this person no matter the cost!”

Never had you felt so sick to your stomach. If only this change had come to Pitou sooner. Or perhaps it'd been better if it didn't happen at all.

“Save? What do you mean by save, huh?” Gon questioned.

One wrong word and he'd snap. Killua quickly tried to take over the situation.

“Anything? You say that you'll do anything?” He asked the ant, knowing this might've been your in to save Kite.

But Gon was too far gone by now.

“Killua. I'm asking the questions here.” He snapped.

You could feel his heart break at Gon's words. See the wobble of his lip as he tried to formulate a response. You'd had enough of this.

“You're acting like a brute!” At last you had found your voice. 

Your feet felt like lead as you walked forward. Gon tensed slightly at your voice.

“They don't want to fight. For whatever reason, they're taking care of that girl. If you can't think with a level head, then you need to leave.” You were at your limit.

You hoped he'd find some clarity in your words. But it felt as if he'd directed his anger towards you. 

“I… I remember you.” Pitou spoke up.

They remember you shoving the other human away to save him. They remembered you moving fast. How you ran off with two smaller humans. The feeling of slicing through your flesh. 

“I'm sorry for what I did.” they apologized.

If anything, they were grateful for your presence now. The boy was listening to you. He was letting you speak. Pitou opted for appealing to your humanity instead. Their best bet at keeping Komugi safe was you.

“This girl is…precious to someone I really care about. More than you could possibly know,” they began to explain.

“Because of her, the king became who he is today. If she ceases to exist, the king will cease to be who he is. She means that much.” They searched your eyes for a glimmer of sympathy.

When they found it, they pleaded harder. Doing their best to ignore the ever darkening aura of the boy next to you.

“So all I want…Is for her to live. I beg you to let me heal her. And then I'll do anything you ask of me. So please just wait!” 

Despite their words being directed at you, they were out in the open for the wrong person to hear. Gon took a step forward, and Pitou started to tremble once more.

“You want to save her life?” The question hung in the air, disbelief evident in his tone.

“You're telling me that you really want to save this girl's life?”

Everything poured out all at once. Gon started hyperventilating, pointing an accusing finger in their direction.

“HOW DARE YOU!”

Your senses were swarmed by anger and hate. Grief and malice. Denial and vengeance. You took a step back. You wanted it to stop. Arms wrapping around yourself in an attempt to protect yourself from everything negative combined.

“DAMN IT! WHY YOU! WHY SHOULD I WAIT!?! WHY SHOULD I DO ANYTHING YOU SAY!?!” 

He stalked forward with the intent to kill. You couldn't stop him. 

“Gon, just wait a second!” Killua called out.

“Look. That girl's really hurt. Probably because of us and grandpa's Dragon Dive.”

He stopped walking. Never had he sounded so cruel. So uncaring about another life.

“And?” Like he didn't see the problem with advancing forward.

“And? Pitou's likely healing her. Well, that's what it looks like anyway. So hold off. Wait until it's done.” It was the last attempt to get him to come to his senses.

“Likely? Probably?” Gon said the words like they were poison in his mouth.

“You want me to wait because of that!?! Even if we did wait, there's no way we can guarantee Pitou will follow through on that promise!” 

He'd completely snapped. Aura unrelenting as it poured out in an endless fountain.

“Probably!?! Likely!?! For real!?? The hell with that!”

He turned around to berate his best friend.

“QUIT MESSING AROUND! WHAT THE HELL'S THE MATTER WITH YOU!?!”

Your fingers dug into your skin before releasing. Your hands clenching by your side. Shaking from the pressure. This wasn't your kid.

He needed to stop.

You needed to protect yourself from him.

“YOU WANT- YOU WANT ME TO TRUST THIS THING!?! SERIOUSLY!?! BECAUSE THERE'S NO WAY IN HELL-!”

SLAP

The sound of your palm hitting him reverberated throughout the room. The force of it sending him to the floor. Gon looked up at you in shock. 

You realized your mistake too late. Disgust consuming your entire being. You didn't mean- You didn't want to do that! How could you ever hit your own kid? You deserved to die. Your eyes were burning with tears. Entire body shaking in repulsion.

He looked up at you heartbroken. The expression mixing in with betrayal. 

You just wanted him to stop.

You didn't want to hurt him.

You'd been pushed to a breaking point you didn't think you could come back from. The tension on your shoulders making you double down. He'd been behaving like them. But so had you.

“HOW DARE YOU SPEAK LIKE THAT IN MY PRESENCE! WE HAVE A JOB TO DO! DON'T LET YOUR UNCHECKED EMOTIONS RUIN IT! DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME!”

You were a monster. How far would you descend into madness by the end of the night? How far would you keep going? 

You were breathing heavily, trying to keep your composure. But seeing the red swell on his cheek made you want to grovel for forgiveness. 

You could feel his hurt increase. Watching him lift a hand to his cheek and wince at the sting. A scowl overtook his features. Angry tears beginning to run down his face.

“IT’S NOT FAIR! WHY?!? WHY ARE YOU TAKING THEIR SIDE!?! AFTER EVERYTHING THEY DID TO KITE!?! AND YOU WANT TO LET THEM LIVE!?! WHY!?! DAMNIT TELL ME!!!!”

“IF YOU WOULD STOP BEING SELFISH FOR ONE SECOND, YOU'D SEE THE BIGGER PICTURE!” You shouted back.

“IF WE KILL PITOU, WE'D NEVER BE ABLE TO BRING KITE BACK! YOU'D THROW AWAY OUR ONLY OPPORTUNITY! QUIT ACTING LIKE A LITTLE KID!”

He went silent. His murky aura retreating back to him. Yet his anger was still very much present. It gave you hope, of only for a moment. Then he spoke, voice unwavering and cold.

“I hate you. You're nothing but a pathetic coward who can't even hold their own.”

And then he said something he hoped hurt you. Not caring about the repercussions it would bring.

“It's no wonder your sister died.”

Your hands clenched. Your own angry aura lashing out. Don't do it. You disgrace. Don't do it. You knew he wanted a reaction from you. You weren't about to give it to him.

You slammed your fist into the wall, crumbling it completely. You didn't want to do something else you'd regret.

“Gon that's enough!” Killua reprimanded. 

He didn't seem to hear him, walking until he was directly in front of Pitou.

He didn't mean it.

Gon would never mean something like that. 

But you didn't think you could forgive him for saying that. Using the secret you'd confided in him to hurt you. You sacrificed so much of yourself for these kids. You didn't ask for much in return. Just the understanding that you were doing your best. You didn't know how you'd get through this one.

You supposed he'd never forgive you either for raising a hand at him. 

“For how long? How long should we wait?” He interrogated the cat ant.

You could feel relief radiate from them.

“I estimate it'll take three to four hours to heal her completely.” They answered.

You knew Pitou was lying to you. You knew they were trying to buy time. And dammit you knew you shouldn't have a shred of sympathy for this thing. But…

But Gon was going too far. He needed a buffer. Anything that might give him time to cool off. You couldn't guarantee the full three hours, but you'd try your best.

“Sorry. Too long.” Gon denied.

You spoke up before Pitou could try to plead for more time.

“Give them a little over an hour.”

He was about to snap at you again, but you didn't give him the opportunity to.

“You said you'd owe me any favor from Greed Island, remember? I'm calling it in right now. Let them heal the girl for an hour.”

You directed your attention to Pitou next.

“And once you're done, you're gonna fix our friend. The off chance you can't…You'll take your own life as payment. Do we have a deal?”

They bowed down their head to you. Truthfully, their priority was the king. They needed to protect him at all costs. If they couldn't fix the human you wanted, then they would leave back to the king's side. But you didn't need to know that.

“I promise.”

A beat of silence. And then your eyes were piercing through theirs. They were unforgiving and knowing.

“Mean it.” You said.

“What?”

“I said mean it when you promise me.” You repeated.

You wouldn't let them get out of this that easily. It was fine. As long as they kept you and that boy away from the king, they could die willingly.

“I swear.” They affirmed, deceit no longer in their aura.

You took a step back, watching as Gon sat himself right in front of Pitou.

“I'll wait right here for one hour.” He conceded.

Neither of you noticed when Killua slipped out of the room. He couldn't handle the tension. Gon had spoken down to him, like he was nothing. Friends weren't supposed to do that. You said he was hurting. That wasn't an excuse to lash out. 

Killua couldn't believe his ears when he'd brought up your past against you. It'd made him mad. Gon was gonna end up making you leave again. And then what? How were they supposed to do this without you?

You'd hit Gon too. He doesn't think he's ever seen that side of you. Even when Killua had been provoking you, never in a million years did he think you would hit him. So what exactly was it that made you slap Gon?

It scared him straight. He knows if he was in the same position he would have broken. 

There were signs, weren't there? Your frantic state. Scared and terrified of the power engulfing you. You pushed yourself to be here. 

He couldn't stand what the NGL had brought out in the two of you. For his sake, he needed space. He needed something to get out all these pent up emotions. The hurt. The anger. The worry. So he left.

You'd been too focused on making sure Gon kept his word to notice. Pitou looked between the two of you. They felt better with you here, leaning closer to your side. As if seeking out protection from Gon’s hateful gaze.

You didn't know how long it'd been. You were sure Gon was keeping track though. Without much thought, you let your en back out. Your 100 meter radius down to 70 from your stress. You felt around for anything heading your way. Faintly you could sense Morel and Knuckle's aura. They were on the cusp of being out of your reach. They were fighting another beastly aura. 

They were struggling. 

You should help them. You shouldn't be sitting here doing nothing. But you just couldn't risk Gon snapping and killing Pitou. You shifted slightly, preparing to make your decision. 

A flicker of life was heading towards you. So small you almost missed it. Two smidges of life floated above you. The aura was disingenuous. It shifted into curiosity after a while. Someone was watching you.

You didn't spare them a glance, concealing the nen in your palm. It slithered like a snake right under the small blimps of life. Little by little one of your puppets formed. Right before you could command it to strike, the aura receded. 

But it wasn't gone. 

More of it started to gather outside the room. Combining until it made up a full being. They seemed unbothered by the situation. As if on cue, a pair of footsteps echoed throughout the hall. Pitou looked out the door in fear.

“Just stay back. Don't come any closer, alright?” They pleaded with the unknown party.

The footsteps picked back up.

“Pouf please!”

You got up slowly. If this was another royal guard, you'd take care of it. You needed an outlet right now. Before they could speak, you met the new ant's eye. 

A butterfly? 

“I don't think so. Let's go.” You gestured back out the door.

He returned your gaze with a glare. Uninterested composure slipping.

“I've got an ass kicking with your name on it.”

A disgusted expression crossed his face. Aura brimming with hostility.

“Excuse me? And what gives you the impression you can give orders to me?” 

A strand of nen wrapped tightly around his neck. He didn't even sense it. Unbeknownst to Pouf, your abilities were somewhat similar. You could read emotions just as he could. Tell what the enemy was thinking. But yours was more practiced. It had him outclassed in a way he was unaware of.

“I wasn't asking.” You said, heading towards the door.

He spared a look over your shoulder at Pitou. Mischief littering his aura before he trailed after you.

“Very well then.”

The grin soon wiped off his face. You reached out and grabbed the particle he released. Crushing it in your hands before speaking. 

“I don't think you understand the position you're in. I'm not gonna let your bullshitery enter this room. Get out or I'll drag you out.”

Your top priority was making sure Gon waited the full hour. Any threat to that needed to be stopped. The ant scowled at you. A petty hatred radiating off him. Still, he followed obediently behind you.

Knowing they were about to be left alone with Gon, Pitou called out to you. 

“Wait! Please don't leave!” They begged. 

“Shut up. Just let them go.” Gon silenced.

It was the last thing you heard before exiting completely. Your en was fully activated to catch any tricks Pouf might throw at you. He faced you without worry, believing you weren't a threat at all.

If anything, he thought you were a fool. Attempting to do what Pitou successfully had.

“May I ask you something?”

But you saw right through it. This thing didn't have a shred of humanity. An animal in every sense of the word. 

“Go to hell.” You responded.

His scowl deepened. He needed to get rid of you. That boy was a problem. And you were the obstacle getting in the way of dealing with him. He tried to gauge your emotional state. There was nothing but an unshakable resolve. 

“Very well then. Have it your way.”

Subduing you should be more than enough. He could always come back and kill you later. Mind made up, he spread his wings and threw his scales at you in mass. 

Even if you tried to get away, you'd be breathing them in. He had you. But as the dust settled, there was a little ballerina in your place. He felt something slam into his artificial body. Another puppet had attacked him.

You were nowhere to be seen.

What the hell?

“I don't have time for this. I must see the King at once.” He grumbled.

“Over here!” You called out.

A foolish mistake. He would not let you get away again. He spit into smaller segments. A few hundred of them charging at you while the others made a beeline away. His core spared a glance back, smiling triumphantly to see his segments holding down their target.

Only to realize it wasn't you. That same ballerina beamed up at the segments with hollow eyes.

“Strike two!” It cheered.

Pouf let out a frustrated noise before deciding to scamper away. Core flying away as fast as he could.

“Fuck! He's getting away!”

You needed one more. One more hit…. One more aura sample. Your eyes scanned for the real him. Spotting it, you used your speed to grab him from the air. 

He gave out a choked sound. 

“Let me go!” He screamed.

You were falling fast back down. Having scaled the side of the building to catch him. He was at your mercy. You could kill him right now. You should kill him. You could feel a mass form next to you. Looking up just in time to see his fake body lunge towards you. 

Bingo!

It's fist making contact with a metallic surface.

“Strike three! Yippee! Game over.” Shika cheered.

Confused, Pouf flew away. 

You landed on your feet. Shika summoned besides you. You couldn't unsummon her or you'd lose Pouf’s ability. You might be able to risk going after him. But your power was cut in half. Realistically you had no chance if the other guard was with him.

A damn shame.

You made your way back to where Pouf and Gon were, stopping at the call of your name.

 “Y/n. What happened to you? Where's Pouf?” Knuckle questioned. 

He thought he saw the butterfly and go this way.

“I dealt with most of him.” You answered.

“Most?”

“A little piece of him got away.”

“His damn segments,” he mumbled before addressing you again.

“That bastard is still out there.” 

“It's okay. I got what I needed from him. If I see him again, I can go all out.” You assured.

He finally noticed the smaller being by your side. He decided not to bring it up. Instead gesturing towards the door behind you.

“How’s Gon doing?”

You let out a drained sigh.

“I wouldn't go in there. He's not himself. He won't listen to anyone right now. Not even me. One wrong word and it's all over. He'll kill Pitou if he's pushed. It's best to leave him alone.” You explained.

“Are you sure?”

You nodded.

“Positive. Please, tell the others not to disturb him.”

Right as the words left your mouth, someone else called out to you.

“Y/n?” It was Killua.

Behind him was Ikalgo and a new ant. You scanned her with your eyes and froze and the familiarity of it. 

“Palm?”

She smiled at you. 

Without thinking, you went up to her and pulled her into a hug.

“Oh Palm, what did they do to you?” You said softly.

You could feel her embarrassment from the contact. Yet she hugged you back all the same.

“They turned me into an ant. I died. But they brought me back. Am I…Do you think Knov will still love me?” She asked shyly.

You pulled back from her with a small smile.

“He better. I was so worried about you. I'm glad to see you're okay.”

Killua cleared his throat, effectively catching your attention.

“I thought if Gon saw Palm was okay, he'd calm down a little.”

Your expression turned somber, shaking your head no.

“He's too far gone. We can't push him right now. It's better if we leave him alone. I'm the only one fast enough to save Pitou if he changes his mind.”

With no other choice but to wait, you all stood by the doorway. It felt like an eternity before they emerged. You were engulfed in the volatile aura once more. 

Pitou hesitated by the exit, turning around to try and comfort the girl. They stopped immediately hearing Gon’s threat. He'd actually threatened to kill Komugi.

You were helpless to do anything. The others in equal shock at his brutal display. Knuckle offered to keep Pitou at bay if they tried anything. But Gon brushed him off. His mind already made up.

“For some reason…I trust Pitou.” He justified, though it sounded like the complete opposite.

You could feel Pitou plotting something in desperation. Their eyes met yours. Silently begging you with their eyes to come along. The hope in them vanishing completely at Gon’s next choice of words.

“Take care of that girl for us until we save Kite.” He ordered.

“Once Pitou heals Kite, we'll release her. I promise you that.” His tone almost mocking as he addressed the cat ant.

“So guess that means for now, you're just gonna have to trust me too. Right, Pitou?” 

They nodded slowly. Following closely behind Gon as he made his way back to Peijing. The icky feeling you've had all night consumed you. You wanted to go after him, something in your gut told you to go. But just this once, you ignored it.

You convinced yourself things would be okay.

“You should've gone with him,” Knuckle said.

“Why didn't you?”

You didn't know how to answer. You didn't know what kept you rooted on the spot. It could've been the familiarity of such malice that kept you away. It could've been not wanting Pitou to use you as a way to get to him. Or it could've done with those three little words.

‘I hate you.’

“It's fine. Now that I've laid my eyes on Gon, I'd know if something happened to him,” Palm intervened.

The subject was soon dropped. Your group of six deciding what to do next when Palm let out a gasp of surprise.

“What is it?” Knuckle asked.

“It's the king! He's coming this way!”

The air felt like it was sucked from your lungs.

“The king? Netero was supposed to take care of him! What do you mean he's on his way!?!” Your tone frantic.

Shit. 

Everybody was working with less than optimal power.

“What do we do? What can we do?” Ikalgo said hopelessly.

You needed a minute to think. A minute you didn't have as a familiar aura approached. Thousands of little blimps scattering along and heading right towards your group.

“Pouf’s segments are here! We gotta get Komugi out of here now! As for the king, if you can't fight, find a place to hide! It's the only choice we have! I'll stall him as long as I can!” You did your best to control the situation.

“Are you crazy?!? No way in hell are you fighting the King alone!” Killua argued, grabbing your arm to make sure you listened.

“He's right! We're not gonna hide like a bunch of cowards while you're being killed!” Knuckle backed up.

You didn't have time for arguments. Pouf was getting closer. Every second standing around was a second the king was getting closer. Yet the resolve of those around you was strong. 

“Then we'll deal with him when he gets here! For now, we gotta get the girl out of here!”

Right as you said it, dozens of Poufs flew into the area. He set his sights on Komugi and flew towards her. You used your ren to give them some push back. 

“Scatter! The more of these things we destroy, the weaker he'll be!”

Killua reacted first, picking up Komugi and using his God Speed to get out of there. You would have cheered him on of the situation hadn't been so dire. Knuckle and Meleoron took off next. Last was Palm and Ikalgo, who decided to help the women still trapped underground.

You were confused to see Pouf's segments only go after Killua. Flying straight at him with the intent to kill. You rushed in front, much to the ant’s dismay.

“Remember me?”

All of the segments frowned, looking over your shoulder. The ones closest to you smashed to dust.

“I'll catch and destroy every part of you!” You threatened.

His expression became manic. The segments mumbling out curses. You could faintly pick up on the muttering of one.

“First that damn girl distracts the king. Then me and Pitou's project defects to the other side. Now I gotta find some way around this human to kill Komugi!”

Everything clicked for you in that moment. Eyes widening in realization. You were frozen on the spot as a few of Pouf’s segments went last you.

‘Me and Pitou's project.’

‘I was killed...They brought me back.’

Your body shook, standing in horror at the revelation. Unawares Pouf had once again changed his course upon being unable to beat Killua. The small assassin took notice of your shell-shocked state.

“Y/n!?! What's wrong!?!” He called out.

“I've gotta…I need to…” 

You willed your body to move. Head filled with a fuzzy static. If that was the case…

“Damn!” You shouted in frustration. 

You were sure it sounded like you were crazy. Hurriedly getting the words out in an attempt to express how dire the situation really was.

“They're abilities work in tandem with each other! Pitou fixes the external damage and Pouf brings them back! If we want to save Kite, we need Pouf's ability! But I can't just leave you to the king!”

Killua’s blood went cold. Realizing the same thing as you. When Pitou couldn't fix Kite by themselves, Gon would lose it completely.

“Yes you can! Gon needs you right now! You have to tell him before it's too late! We're screwed if he kills Pitou after we've figured it out!” He urged you to leave. 

“I can't leave you!” You doubled down.

You didn't want to lose another kid. But Killua wasn't going to budge. He couldn't knowing what was on the line.

“I won't die on you! I promise you I'll get out of here alive!”

Damn it all.

You took off in the direction Kite was being held. Pushing your legs the fastest they could go. Still it wasn't fast enough. Gliding through the terrain with ease and it still wasn't enough for you. You used as much energy as you could spare to summon your en. Sensing around for Gon and Pitou. 

You thought you found him when there was an explosion of nen. Dark. So incredibly dark and filled with everything negative. Hate, Sadness, Guilt, Resignation.

You pushed yourself that much faster, suffocating the deeper you got to the center of that aura. Time seemed to freeze.

DANGER

DANGER

DANGER

Who was that!?!

The source of the heinous aura made a lunge for Pitou. The attack very much familiar to you. You pushed yourself as hard as you could and tackled Pitou out of the way.

It felt like your back was on fire. The blast of nen missing you by a centimeter. Still its power overwhelmed you. You rolled with the cat ant a few times. Righting yourself up to see this new enemy.

No.

It can't be.

Your expression morphed into one of terror. Hand covering your mouth and willing the vile to go down. Your body heaving and shaking. 

“Gon?”

There were parts of his aura that were similar. His clothes were similar. But everything else made you want to cry. His eyes, the ones you always found a piece of her still in, had darkened to the point of unrecognition. His body was not his own. 

What did he do to himself?

What curse did he place on himself to physically age himself up?

This had to be a nightmare.

He stood looming in front of you. Like a predator zoning in on its prey. You extended your arms out in defense of Pitou. 

“You stopped me. Why did you stop me?”

You didn't even recognize his voice. You were scared of him. Frightened at what he might do.

“You keep defending them. Does their life really mean that much to you? More than I mean to you? After everything we've been through…” He hands clenched at his side. Unimaginable power coursing through his veins.

He was looking at you like you were less than nothing. But you couldn't back down.

“Gon, you have to trust me. You're not the only one who's hurting. You're not the only one who's angry.”

You loved Kite too. 

“And it would be so easy to kill Pitou, to get this over with and say it's justice. But it's not. If you kill them, it's a path you can't come back from. You don't want this blood on your hands!”

He took a step forward.

“Please, you have to listen to me. There's another way to bring him back. Just calm down.”

You thought you'd gotten through to him. But he truly was too far gone to listen to reason.

"You're in the way. Move or I'll kill you both."

You hadn't been this scared since Father. Since your entire clan turned on you. There was no deceit in his aura. He really meant it.

You flicked your hand to the side, commanding the puppet on your shoulder to move.

“GO! GET PITOU OUT OF HERE NOW!”

You used your other puppet to block Gon’s next attack.

Your ballerina marionette’s hand morphing into a blade against Pitou's neck.

“This way now.” It instructed.

Pitou owed you a favor for saving their life. For saving Komugi’s. They let the puppet guide them back into the safehouse.

Gon’s attention was fully on you. His rage was directed towards you. And he made it known.

“Show me rock!”

You barely had enough time to dodge. With both of your puppets summoned, you were at his complete mercy.

You made a dash for the trees, hiding yourself in the foliage. Everytime he punched though one, you'd substitute with Henry last second. You didn't know how to snap him out of this.

“I know what you're going through! I've been there before! Hell, I'm still there! I know you Gon! You're not like me!”

Your energy was draining fast, yet his seemed endless. Attacking you without restraint.

“COME OUT AND FIGHT ME INSTEAD OF RELYING ON CHEAP TRICKS!”

You were crying, pleading for this kid to hear you through his pain. But your pleas continued to fall on deaf ears.

“I know this is hard! I know you've been strong for too long! Everything you've been carrying on your shoulders! But you need to hold off! You have to be willing to let Pitou live!”

He sent a surge of energy through the treetops. You evaded down…Right into his trap. His jan-ken poised and ready to crack open your skull. 

You didn't have any time to substitute.

It was a miracle you slipped. The blow only barley missing your head. You were about to rebound up when a hand wrapped around your neck. You felt yourself hanging in the air.

Your lungs denied of the oxygen they desperately needed. He stared you down with unforgiving eyes. 

You thought of Kari. How you were in the same position she'd been in 13 years prior. Your vision was blanking out. Mind running a thousand thoughts a minute. He was going to kill you. 

He was here to kill you.

Your tears ran down your cheeks and onto his hand. The sensation miraculously catching Gon’s attention.

You were…crying?

He made you cry?

For a moment the fog cleared in his mind. He saw you. He realized what he was doing. His rageful expression at last softening. The grip around your neck went lax. He was about to let you go completely when a heavy body knocked onto his side.

You fell with a thud. A murky purple haze around your eyes. Your body curled into a defensive ball. 

It was your puppet. But it was different. It's entire being surged with power. Manic, ruthless power. Its body growing and expanding to fit. It smiled with jagged teeth. 

“New game: start!”

It lunged forward. Gon tried to dodge it, but it wasn't aiming for a direct hit. It made a faint slash to his side. Bouncing around with an agility that shouldn't be possible with its size to continue slashing around. 

He summoned his nen into his palm once more. Shooting off a successful blast of aura at the jester. It only puffed out its chest to disperse the energy. Rebounding forward once again to continue its onslaught.

He met it with a punch, finally making contact. The jester only tutted at him. He realized his mistake too late. It clung to his arm, flashing a smile full of nothing but deranged madness. Try as he may to pry his arm free, this thing wouldn't let him go.

“We'll start out way up top and slit you right on down the spine!”

It's hand morphing into a saw blade, circling around his arm and sawing through the flesh. He could feel the warmth of his blood leaving his body.

“And then I'll sink my little fingers in to help slough off that rind!”

Articulated hands digging into the cut it made and yanking off the limb from his body. This thing was gonna kill him. And maybe a part of him wanted it to. He'd broken his promise to Kite. He'd hurt you.

But the onslaught only grew more violent.

The puppet punched its own monstrous arm through the gushing stub, preventing Gon from being able to pull back. It took a familiar stance that had his eyes widening.

“Jan-ken-rock!” It mimicked.

It was more concentrated than anything he'd ever been able to produce. Shattering every bone in his body, despite the aura protecting it.

You were a monster in every sense of the word. This was what you'd been holding back. This madness. Pure killer instinct to be the last one standing.

And still it wasn't done with him as he collapsed on the ground.

“You’re going to di-ie~ And then I'll wear your skin as a suit. It's a promise ~” It sang out.

Once again it charged up his ability, but there was less power this time.

“Nighty night little sun~”

It was toying with his body. Torturing him just enough to keep him alive. But he deserved it. He bet his life on saving Kite. It was only right he lost it for failing. At least it was you. If he had to be killed, he'd rather it be you that did it. 

Funny how the one supposed to be protecting him was his undoing. 

—---------------------------

Killua rushed through the forest as fast as he could. He had to warn you and Gon. Pitou could betray you two at any second. He had to get there. 

His ears picked up on a thudding sound. It came again. And again. Growing louder the closer he got. He didn't know what it was. He couldn't have predicted it either.

He got to a clearing. A surge of nen lighting up the area before it was released. He ran straight ahead, freezing in horror at the sight before him. 

On the ground, body broken to the point of being unrecognizable, was Gon.

On top of him was a bigger version of your puppet.

It charged up aura into its fist before slamming down. The cause of the repetitive noise.

And curled up under a tree was you.

“Y/N!” He screamed out your name.

Running towards you and shaking you. Begging you to stop. Feeling like he was in a horrible dream.

“Y/N! STOP! YOU'RE KILLING HIM!” He shrieked.

But at the feeling of something touching you, you broke out into a hysterically sob.

“NO!!!! DON'T TOUCH ME! DON'T TOUCH ME!”

The last of your energy going into your cry. Body giving out completely. As soon as you'd gone comatose, the puppet disappeared. All traces of your nen did.

Killua ran over to Gon next, not bothering to hold back his cries. He was alive, but barely. His body was mangled beyond anything he'd ever seen.

What happened here?

What was he supposed to do?

The weight of his next move hung heavily on his shoulders.

Only one. 

He could only save one. 

He was sobbing hysterically at this point. How could you both put him in this position? How could you make him choose between you two? Who mattered more?

“...I'm so sorry Y/n. Please forgive me.” He picked up Gon, casting one last glance back.

He caught sight of a dark handprint across your neck. The indentations of fingers. 

“Please forgive me. I won't be able to go on if you don't.”

Gon needed more help right now. He'd send someone to get you as soon as possible. 

—------------------------

Pitou finished up the last of Kite's stitches, making sure the skin looked normal. When your puppet first led them here, they didn't understand what was wanted of them. Already having told Gon there was no use.

But your puppet was persistent. Gesturing towards the body and hissing out a ‘fix, you must fix.’

It wasn't until it said memory that Pitou understood. Fix the body so Pouf’s ability could take care of the rest. They did their best to get it done quickly. Giving out a sigh of relief when it was over.

“My job is finished here. I need to make my way back to the king.”

They took a few steps towards the exit, unable to process what happened as their vision turned upside down. The floor becoming closer and closer to their line of vision.

“We…are not merciful.” Your puppet said quietly. Little feet entering Pitou's line of sight.

“And you broke your promise…We were never going to let you live.”

It raised its foot up, completely stomping the cat ant’s head in. Putting an end to the creature that had caused so much pain.

It picked up Pitou's mangled skull, leaving it right beside the cocoon. 

“For you.”

Then it disappeared along with the rest of your nen. Never to return again.

—----------------------------------------------------------

Fun Fact: There are no Fun Facts for this one.

Tags: @fandomhoe101 @justxiao @bekataylorgriggs @zellwa @rainbowpr1sm @shun-nie @snake-in-a-flower-crown

MASTERLIST

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

An: Oh boy. Oh no. Those are my comfort characters doomed to the narrative. So uhhhh, let's talk about the slap and how the cycle of abuse is a hard one to break. Let's talk about lashing out in fear the same way Y/n was hurt because it's the only way they know how to make it stop. The only way they were taught to enact discipline. Let's talk about Gon feeling so hurt and betrayed because Y/n said they'd never hit either of them. How he never thought they'd raise their hand at him.

Oh boy, let's talk about that fight. Ah yes, my biggest inspirations: Tangled the Series’ Nothing Left to Lose, Steven Universe’s Change, specifically this cover, and Puppet History’s Pieces of You.

Let's talk about how utterly traumatizing it was for Killua to have to pick between the two people he loves the most. Let's talk him watching Y/n about to kill his best friend. Let's talk about him seeing their crushed wind wipe and knowing Gon tried to kill them too. 

Let's talk about the consequences of our actions ladies and gentlemen. Let's theorize the aftermath and how things are about to get worse before they can get better.

[biolumien]

to call home.

pt 4 to the samurai!hoshina fic. pt 3 is here.

notes: i will attempt to tie this up with a neat bow in pt 5... i forgot how frenetic multichapter fics can be... i much prefer the single stuff...!

samurai!soshiro hoshina x fem!reader definite descriptions of gore and blood word count: 1426

“for the last time, hoshina, i do not want to hear about your current wife problems,” gen narumi grumbles. “i cannot begin to tell you how fucking little i care.” he crosses his arms. “you’re here every single fucking day. i told you that we signed off on the alliance papers, right? it’s all in order? your wife’s the one that’s supposed to be going through those. she should be seeing right through your bullshit. i’m not your fucking friend.” 

“please,” hoshina says. “it’s not like i have anyone else to talk to about this.”

“talk to the the old man,” gen deadpans. “what was his name… hibino? the blacksmith?” 

“he’s madly in love with ashiro and is of little help to me,” hoshina replies flatly. 

“ugh.” gen rolls his eyes, leaning forward. the front of his kimono slips a bit, revealing more of his chest as he leans against the table. “so what the hell’s the issue now?” 

hoshina sighs. 

“we sparred the other day. she seemed upset,” hoshina says. “i just wish she’d tell me what she was actually thinking instead of just… staring at me like that.” that look that you give him, where it seems like you want to rip out his stomach and devour it whole. that look that you give him, where you so clearly just—want him dead, more than anything. 

“did you do something to piss her off?” gen asks. 

“no. i just…” hoshina worries his lip. “we haven’t even really done anything.”

“not even sleep together?”

“no, that we did. because we had to,” hoshina says. 

“ugh. of course you can make even the act of sleeping with someone sound dastardly unsexy and so fucking boring,” gen yawns. “what’s the problem, anyhow? we don’t marry for love. it’s duty. i thought you knew better than to believe in childish notions about true love.”

“i believe in true love as much as the next person,” hoshina says, “which is to say that i don’t. not in this life. not in the next.”

gen rolls his eyes. 

“why don’t you just talk to her?” gen asks, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. hoshina supposes that it is, but something about gen saying it to him filled him with some kind of petty rage.

“i’m glad that you seem to think it’s so simple,” hoshina states flatly. “given that you don’t have a wife yet–”

“just can’t keep your mouth shut, huh?” gen’s glare was unimpressed, his hand lowering to the wakizashi at his side. “get out of here before i stab you.”

“ouch, so prickly,” hoshina sneers, but gets up anyway. 

gen stares up at hoshina, yawning inelegantly. 

“i think instead of pussyfooting around this whole thing with your wife you ought to talk to her, quite frankly speaking, about the kind of relationship you want with her. that’s my advice.” 

“hm. that might sound good coming out of anyone else’s mouth but yours,” hoshina says with a leering smile, but the longer he thinks about it, the more gen seems to be right. he’d never truly tried to get to know you, right? nights spent in his own quarters were usually quiet—because he’d always attempted to respect your privacy to the best of his ability. 

you’d wanted nothing to do with him, after all—you barely even mentioned the night you spent together. was he really so clear and obvious in the ways he tried desperately to avoid conflict?

…

probably, now that he thought about it. 

as he settles down for the night, though, something doesn’t feel quite right. he chalks it up to simpler paranoias at first—general anxieties and unrest, the way you’d stared at him during dinner, with a stare so vicious it could kill on its own—up until he hears a bloodcurdling scream.

he bolts out of bed immediately, snatching up his wakizashi and katana, storming towards the source of the noise before he hears the clashing of blades—or a singular crack of one. 

hoshina watches as you cleave an assassin by the neck with a sweep of your naginata, blood splattering across your kimono as you heave out a low breath. as he approaches, you raise your naginata in sudden alarm before lowering your blade. 

“shinobi,” you say, sharply exhaling.

“so it appears,” hoshina says, drawing his katana, stepping behind you with his sword raised in a ready stance. “are you hurt?”

“clearly not,” you say, voice cold even now. “they breached the maids’ quarters. seems like they thought i’d have switched rooms or something out of paranoia.” you level your naginata, adjusting the sleeve of your kimono as you slam the blade into the wall, with an accompanying thud from another assassin.

“a bad actor, you’re saying?” hoshina’s eyes glance across the darkened hallway, his ears straining for any possible sound. he thinks he hears the thudding of footsteps somewhere close, and he raises his sword defensively. “from within the house?” 

“i don’t know,” you respond. “this could just be your family’s enemies. representatives from the narumi clan?” 

“doubtful,” hoshina says. gen wouldn’t be that stupid. “my talks have been going well.”

“well clearly, someone’s fucked up somewhere,” you shout back at him. he wonders why you look beautiful in this moment, blood staining your white kimono and across your face—and then your eyes widen in panic, your lips parting to let out a shout. “soshiro, behind!” 

he whirls around, his blade sinking into the chest of a faceless attacker—he feels the sinking of his blade into the flesh, and he grits his teeth. 

“you saved my life,” hoshina says, not turning to face you. 

“you’re welcome, jackass,” you respond. “keep your eyes and ears open. i’ll fucking kill them all.” 

hoshina laughs. the venom in your voice, usually targeted at him, now freely dished out to your aggressors was a terrifying sound and sight. he thanked the gods at least that he wasn’t your enemy—at least for the moment. 

the house was in disarray—screaming punctuated with the sound of blades, and the darkness made it hard to tell what was really going on, shadows mixed with dark shapes creating an inky blur of sound and physical sensation—but he could carve a path of bodies through it, coat the ground with enough viscera that there would be less sounds of clashing blades. 

as his blade finds the neck of another assassin, hoshina exhales. 

is it over? hoshina wonders. he strains his hearing for the moment, hearing no more footsteps. and yet the air is abuzz with energy–and something doesn’t feel right.

though, he amended, it hadn’t felt right since he’d gotten ready to go to bed. there was terrible unrest. something in the air.

“it’s over, i think,” hoshina says warily, still keeping his sword drawn.

“maybe,” you say, your voice terse.

hoshina leans down, examining one of the bodies, trying to look for an insignia, anything–but the assassins knew better. they bore no symbols of other houses, their weapons nondescript.

and then he hears you shout, and he turns to see you gritting your teeth as you swing your naginata at the same time as the final assassin’s blade connected with your side, having been knocked slightly askew–

you’d saved him.

hoshina moves on instinct as you collapse to the ground, gasping in uneasy pain, trying to hold your side, pulling away to find your hand and sleeve coated with blood. his sword finding the assassin’s stomach–it wasn’t an elegant cut by any means, and he grimaced at the sound of ripping flesh, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care as he rushed to your side, just trying to take in the sight of your blood spilling against the floor.

you cough.

“soshiro,” you whisper, looking up at him. “am i going to die?”

“no,” hoshina says, but the truth is he’s really not sure. he checks your wound–it’s deep, but if a doctor could stem the bleeding, there’d be a chance you might live. “that was stupid of you, you know. you didn’t have to do that.”

you cough, laughing weakly as you press your hand against your side. he pulls you up, holding your head in his arm.

“it’s my duty as your wife,” you say.

“you don’t have to do it if you don’t love me,” hoshina replies softly. your eyes flick to his face, narrow a little before you look away.

“it’s a shame that i think i do,” you say, and there’s not even a shred of resentment in your voice.  

[silkscream]

CHAPTER 17: FORCE OF NATURE

ੈ✩ gojo satoru x reader

ੈ✩ chapter cw/tags: angst, vaginal sex, rough sex, prone-bone, dubcon

ੈ✩ wc: 6.9k

ੈ✩ a/n: there's your dinner

playlist ✸ read on ao3 ✸ series masterlist

April, 2010

When Suguru fucks you, lately, he’s gentle.

It’s only slightly unlike him. He’s often pent-up from missions, the same way that Satoru is, but the need instilled in him is different. Quieter. You can’t encapsulate it in words — it’s all feeling.

You think that maybe this is the reason that you sometimes favor him. It makes you feel guilty. Beyond all of Satoru’s faults and flaws, you know that he loves you. It all comes out in jagged, messy ways, but he does.

Being with Suguru alone feels… simpler. There is nothing unkempt about him. Every time he needs you, he never begs. It’s often the other way around.

It’s easy for you to be pliable for him with just a few words. Conversations that make you feel larger than life, faint touches that have your skin shivering. He makes you feel like a girl. Desperate and easily enraptured.

While Satoru is loud and talkative, Suguru is reserved and magnetizing. There are moments in between classes when he takes your hand and lies with you in the grass, sharing soft-spoken jokes and murmurs. There’s always something guarding his mind. You can tell. It only makes you want to pry even more, but Suguru is good at deflecting.

You’d be content to share a bed with him and simply stare at his face for hours. Sometimes, you’re with Satoru and you yearn for that. The things that Satoru babbles on about go through one ear and out the other. His energy is always frenetic whereas yours is starting to feel lethargic.

__

Through early April, cherry blossoms begin to fall, coating the grounds of Jujutsu Tech in a soft pink blanket. You’re surrounded in heaven wherever you are.

Satoru is bombarded with solo missions. Meanwhile, your company is kept with Suguru, who sleeps in your bed with you most nights.

At the moment, you’re tangled with him. The moonlight casts a silvery glow across his features. Sometimes, he doesn’t even look human to you. You could swear that he was sent to Earth as a being born from the stars. You feel pathetic and corny even thinking about it.

Despite being wrapped up in you, his eyes are distant, focused on something beyond the confines of the room. Beyond your reach. Aside from the chorus of cicadas outside, silence stretches between you.

“Suguru,” you whisper, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “What are you thinking about?”

He turns to you, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "Nothing important," he murmurs, leaning in to place a soft kiss on your forehead.

You're not satisfied with this answer. It's always like this lately - his thoughts locked away behind an impenetrable wall. You sit up, pulling the sheet around you, frustration bubbling up in your chest. The tenderness of moments before evaporates, replaced by a tension that crackles between you like static electricity.

“You’re clearly thinking about something.”

“I’m not,” he answers softly. “Just you. Just thinking about how pretty you are.”

You sigh. “That’s all?”

He gives you a smug grin. “You don’t like being told you’re pretty?”

“I do. Maybe I just want to pick your brain sometimes. Rummage inside of it like a treasure chest.”

He scoffs. “Just because Satoru says everything that’s on his mind doesn’t mean I have to.”

Your face flickers with disappointment at his tone. He probably didn’t mean to sound bitter, but it came out more curt than you expected.

“Don’t you tell him everything on your mind, though?”

“Sometimes, I guess. He’s my best friend.”

Then what am I?

You almost say it out loud.

“Have you talked to him lately?” you ask. “He hasn’t been answering my texts.”

“Shocker,” Suguru replies, a hint of sarcasm laced on his tongue. You frown slightly.

“He always answers.”

“He’s also the strongest,” he snorts. “Can’t always dote on his little wifey, can he?”

“What?”

His smirk falters slightly. “I’m just kidding, baby,” he says softly, kissing your nose. “He’s probably busy or he doesn’t have service.”

“Are you two fighting again?” you blurt out.

Suguru raises a brow in surprise. “What do you mean?”

“I just know that sometimes the two of you argue. And you know, the bruises—”

“The ones from sparring or the ones from sex?”

You’re quiet. Both, you want to say. But then it occurs to you that none of it is particularly your business.

It was always difficult to tell where you stood between the two of them. It was as if you were on a constant current, buoying towards rough waters where you didn’t belong.

“I— um. I don’t know. I just noticed things have been… tense.”

He stares at you blankly. “Things are fine.”

“Are they?” You have the urge to ask him a million questions. Was everything fine? Between him and Satoru, you felt like a thinning rope in a tug of war, but always unsure of who was pulling harder.

“You just seem, I don’t know… off lately,” you continue, mumbling. “I can’t help but wonder if something’s bothering you.”

He pauses before speaking again. “There’s just a lot on my mind.”

“Like what?”

He rolls his eyes and it guts you more than it should. “Just a lot. There’s more cursed user activity, more grueling missions. I’ll probably get assigned more soon.”

“You’re doing it again. Deflecting.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re just—” you sigh, “You're always... guarded. I feel like there's a part of you I can't reach.”

Suguru's expression remains impassive, but you notice the slight tightening of his jaw. He sits up as well, his bare chest gleaming in the dim light. "I've given you all of me that I can."

"Don't do that," you say, your voice sharper than you intend. "Don't brush me off."

"I'm not brushing you off. You’re throwing a tantrum because you’re expecting me to spill all my thoughts like you’re my therapist. Or are you feeling insecure and you want some grand romantic gesture from me? There’s nothing to say either way.”

You blink at him rapidly, hurt by his assumptions.

"I’m not expecting anything," you insist, frustration mounting. "I just… I feel like I barely know you sometimes. I just want to know what’s on your mind.”

“Maybe you won’t understand what’s on my mind,” he mutters. “If I can even put it into words. It’s okay to have different minds, you know. Different world views.”

Your face stings as if he’d just insulted you. You stare at the ceiling. What the hell did that mean? Did he keep things from you because he thought you wouldn’t understand? Did he think you were stupid?

“Okay,” you murmur weakly. “Whatever.”

__

March, 2012

The cherry blossoms are in full bloom again. Their delicate petals drift on the breeze through the window. Whispers of a forgotten spring. The change of the seasons whips you in the face— it had been so cold only a month prior.

You’re glad about it, anyway. February was always brutal. The passing of the 3rd had been awkward— unlike last year, neither you nor Satoru acknowledged the day at all, though you had danced around it as if Suguru’s ghost was following you.

You had flinched all day whenever Satoru spoke to you, as if paranoid he could read your mind.

He’d bombarded your thoughts, reminding you of the last birthday you spent with him. His face when he’d looked through the photo album you’d given him. The way he fucked you like he needed you to breathe.

Selfishly, you hope Suguru still has the photos. An awful part of you even hopes he still looks at them. You wish you’d kept some of them for yourself.

It was a stupid idea not to make copies. At the time, you considered making some to keep for yourself and to give to Satoru, but the keepsake you made for Suguru’s birthday felt like a secret just between them. Satoru hadn’t even thought to inquire about the photos you took anyway.

Often, you imagine them scattered on your walls, the boys teasing you as you decorated. Reminiscing your teenage years together, both of them laughing and joking around at the antics you’d been able to capture.

You make a mental note to purchase another disposable camera again. Satoru’s apartment could use more photographs, and the kids would get a kick out of it. You still haven’t moved in with him, to his chagrin, but you enjoy having your own space despite his qualms about it. It’s the one thing you have to yourself, even if he does pay your rent.

You sit alone on the balcony, a cup of lukewarm tea cradled in your hands, and you think of yourself from one year ago.

There’s a bittersweet ache in your chest. You can’t help but think of a certain dark-haired sorcerer that occupied so much of your time at Jujutsu Tech.

The world changed in his absence— the air heavier, charged with an undercurrent of tension that still hasn’t dissipated. In your head, Suguru Geto is a fleeting memory. A passing dream.

But there are moments when you feel the warmth of his body next to yours. The timbre of his voice. The intensity of his eyes when he looked at you as if he was seeing through you.

You shake the thoughts of him away as you dump your tea and make your way to the school. You have the greenhouse to yourself today.

It feels odd to walk around Jujutsu Tech without the presence of two shadows on either side of you. The slight breeze whips your hair and it makes you think of them — how Suguru would often tuck a flyaway back for you while Satoru would tug at your braid.

Stop thinking about it, you chastise yourself. He’s not dead.

Or maybe he was?

You aren’t sure if a year and a half feels too little or too long. There are dreams you have about crossing paths with Suguru— a raven-haired stranger in the night, a fleeting text message from an unknown number. When you overthink like this, it’s difficult to tell how much you really knew him at all. Were you important enough to even get in contact with again?

Something twists in your stomach when you think about the same hypothetical of Satoru. You think that maybe he would contact Satoru again. Maybe.

You weren’t there for the end. You hadn’t seen them fight, could barely imagine the thought of a tear-stricken, twenty-year-old Satoru begging Suguru for anything. Had they lashed out at each other? Had they said anything about you?

You pause in your work, hands hovering over a delicate orchid. Your insecurities flood back unbidden, vivid, and painful.

The nights you spent alone with Suguru replay in your mind. His guarded expression, the palpable tension between you. If only you'd pushed harder, tried to break through those walls. Maybe things would have been different.

But you didn't. And now he's gone.

A shadow falls across you, and for a moment, you think it's just another cloud passing overhead. But then you feel it - a presence that makes the air around you hum with an electric charge.

A sharp prick of pain jolts you from your reverie. You've pricked your finger on a thorn, a bead of blood welling up. You watch it for a moment, mesmerized by the crimson against your skin.

"Careful there," a familiar voice calls out. "Can't have you bleeding all over the plants."

You turn to see Satoru leaning against the greenhouse door, his presence filling the space as it always does.

"Hey," you say softly. "I thought you had a mission today."

He shrugs, sauntering over to you. "I do, but I wanted to stop by first. Thought I'd surprise you."

There's an awkward beat of silence as he stands beside you, both of you pretending to examine the flowers. You can feel the weight of unspoken words hanging between you.

"You were thinking about him again, weren't you?" Satoru's voice is quiet, lacking its usual bravado.

You don't answer immediately, unsure how to navigate this minefield. "I... it's hard not to sometimes," you admit finally. "Especially here."

Satoru nods, his face inscrutable. "Yeah. I get that."

Another silence stretches between you. You desperately want to ask him about that day, about what really happened. But you're afraid of the answer, afraid of reopening wounds that have barely begun to heal.

"Do you ever wonder..." you begin hesitantly, "if things could have been different? If we'd seen the signs earlier, or—”

“Twigs,” Satoru cuts you off sharply.

You flinch at his tone. “Sorry.”

His expression softens. He reaches out, gently taking your hand in his.

"No, I'm sorry," he murmurs. "I just... I can't think about the what-ifs. It's too much."

You nod slowly. Neither of you really talked about Suguru since he left. It was easier to pretend, to go on as if the gaping hole he left behind didn't exist.

"Do you think he's okay?" you whisper, voicing the fear that's been gnawing at you for months.

Satoru's jaw tightens almost imperceptibly. "He's alive. I'd know if he wasn't."

You nod, not quite sure if you believe him or if he even believes himself.

He sighs, pulling you into a tight embrace. You bury your face in his chest, inhaling the familiar scent of him, and for just a moment, you let yourself be comforted by his presence.

But as you stand there in Satoru's arms, surrounded by the falling cherry blossoms, you can't shake the feeling that something is still missing. That maybe it always will be.

April, 2012

You fumble with your keys, exhaustion weighing heavily on your limbs. The thought of going home to your apartment fills you with dread. You’d gotten into a squabble with Satoru again – asked too many questions about Suguru, your heart flooded with nostalgia.

He wanted to be patient with you, but you were childishly bitter.

As you push open the door, something feels... off. The air inside is charged, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Your heart begins to race as you cautiously step inside, eyes scanning the darkened room.

"Twigs."

The voice, smooth as silk and familiar, cuts through the silence. You gasp as you whirl around, eyes wide with disbelief.

There, leaning against the wall with an air of casual elegance, is Suguru Geto.

He looks different, yet achingly the same. His hair is longer now, cascading over his shoulders in inky waves. His eyes, once warm and inviting, now hold a sharpness that sends a shiver down your spine. But his smile, that infuriatingly beautiful smile, is exactly as you remember it.

"Suguru," you breathe, barely able to form the word. "How... why are you here?"

He pushes off the wall, moving towards you with fluid grace. "I missed you," he purrs.

Your mind reels, a thousand questions fighting to be asked. But as he draws closer, all you can focus on is the familiar scent of him - sandalwood and something uniquely Suguru. It makes your head spin.

"You can't be here," you whisper, even as your traitorous body leans towards him. "If Satoru finds out–"

"Satoru won't find out," Suguru interrupts, his voice low and soothing. He reaches out, fingers ghosting along your cheek. "I've made sure of that."

You should pull away. You should tell him to leave. But instead, you find yourself leaning into his touch, eyes fluttering.

"I've thought about you every day," Suguru murmurs, his breath warm against your ear. "Have you thought about me?"

"Yes," you admit, the word escaping before you can stop it. "God, yes."

His lips curve into a smile against your skin. "Show me," he whispers.

And just like that, the floodgates open. You crash into him, your lips meeting in a desperate, hungry kiss. It's like coming home and setting yourself on fire all at once. His hands are everywhere, relearning the curves of your body as you cling to him.

You stumble backward, not breaking the kiss until your back hits the wall. Suguru presses against you, his body solid and warm. You gasp as he trails kisses down your neck, teeth grazing your sensitive skin.

When he coos into your ear, it is not his voice, but Satoru’s.

“Twigs.”

Your eyes open abruptly. Sweat trickles down the nape of your neck as you stare into the space of your dark bedroom. Despite hearing Satoru’s voice, he’s nowhere to be found.

You exhale shakily in embarrassment, at how easily the guilt knocked you out of your slumber. 

With trembling hands, you swing your legs over the side of the bed and let them dangle for a moment, grounding yourself in reality. The remnants of the dream still swirl around in your mind like fractals. You blink against the dimness, peeling away from the haze left by sleep.

The gentle hum of silence fills your apartment as you push yourself up to stand on slightly unsteady legs. Each step you take feels heavier than the last; gravity pulling differently somehow.

You feel… odd. You decide to blame it on the unwanted arousal.

When you enter the small kitchen, you distract yourself with your kettle and scan your surroundings blankly. Pastel tiles — faded yet inviting. Drawings on the fridge from the Fushiguro children.

As you wait for the water to boil, you feel a sense of unease — the very same you felt when encountering a curse, though the after-effects of arousal in your body have your stomach curling inside out. Everything is too quiet and too dark.

You hadn’t bothered to turn on the lights, relying on a small nightlight plugged in below your cabinets. You turn to peer into your living room but there’s nothing there.

As you slowly turn your head back to the kitchen, your breath catches in your throat at the silhouette in front of you. The shadow, darker than the surrounding night, detaches itself from the wall. Your heart leaps into your throat, cursed energy crackling at your fingertips instinctively.

But then the figure steps into the moonlight, and your breath catches.

Suguru.

He looks different – thinner, harder somehow. His hair is longer, tied back loosely, and there's a weariness in his eyes that wasn't there before. But it's undeniably him.

He wears a large, black gojo-kesa with yellow and green details. He looks like a dream come to life. He's changed, but he's still breathtakingly beautiful, like a fallen angel come to Earth.

"I’m sorry," he says softly, his voice carrying the same gentle cadence you remember, but now tinged with something darker. "I didn’t mean to scare you."

You want to run. You want to scream. You want to throw yourself into his arms and beg him to explain why he left, why he turned his back on everything– on you. Instead, you remain frozen, your mug trembling in your grasp.

Suguru takes a step closer, and you can see the details of his face more clearly now. You instinctively take a step back, and something flickers in his eyes – hurt, perhaps, or amusement. It's hard to tell with Suguru.

"May I sit?" he asks, gesturing to the space in front of you where your small kitchen table stands.

You nod mutely, unable to form words. He settles next to you, close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating from his body. You smell the familiar scent of sandalwood and something metallic. Blood?

For a long moment, neither of you speak. You continue to drink in the sight of him. He looks out of place in your small apartment, too large and too otherworldly for the mundane space.

"Why are you here?" you finally ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

"I wanted to see you," he says simply, as if it explains everything. As if he hadn't abandoned everything– abandoned you and Satoru – over a year ago.

You take an involuntary step back, your mind reeling. "But you left. You've been gone for over a year. We thought... I thought..."

"That I was dead?" He smirks, but there's no humor in it. "Not quite. Though I suppose in some ways, the person you knew did die."

You scoff, clutching the countertop behind you.

"Why now?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. "Why come back after all this time?"

“This isn’t the first time, exactly.”

You don’t even want to ask what he means.

You shake your head, trying to clear the fog of confusion and longing that threatens to overwhelm you. "You can't be here. Satoru will come back from his mission—"

Suguru's eyes darken at the mention of Satoru's name. "Ah yes, Satoru," he says, a hint of bitterness in his tone. "Always Satoru."

You feel a pang of guilt but push it aside. "Suguru, I—"

He cuts you off with a gentle shake of his head. "No need to explain.”

A heavy silence falls between you, filled with unspoken words and suppressed emotions. You watch as Suguru's gaze drifts to the falling cherry blossoms against the velvet sky outside the window, his expression unreadable.

You sniff. “I thought you were dead at first,” you whisper. “But you’re stronger than that. Always have been.”

“You were upset.”

“Of course I was! I—” you huff, looking away from him.

He turns to look at you fully now, his gaze intense. “You’re still upset.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“There was nothing you could do.”

You wince slightly. It was the same thing that Satoru told you during the fight you had. The one that overwhelmed you with anger, made you walk away. Heat curls within the delicate sternum of your chest. You’ve always been so fucking naive, haven’t you?

“I— I thought—” you trail off. You thought you could’ve done more.

“Would you have come with me?” he murmurs.

The question hangs in the air between you, heavy with implications. You open your mouth to respond but find you have no answer. Would you have gone with him? Left everything behind?

Satoru’s face flashes in your mind.

Suguru seems to read the conflict on your face. He reaches out, his fingers ghosting along your cheek. The touch is feather-light, but it sends electricity coursing through your body.

"I'm not here to cause trouble," he says, his voice low and soothing. "I just... needed to see you. To make sure you were alright."

You lean into his touch despite yourself, closing your eyes briefly. When you open them again, Suguru's face is closer, his eyes searching yours.

"Are you?" he asks. "Alright?"

The question catches you off guard. Are you alright? You've been going through the motions for months now, smiling when expected, and fulfilling your duties. But alright? You're not sure you even remember what that feels like anymore.

"I'm... managing," you reply honestly.

“I missed you,” he sighs. “You have to believe that.”

You want to believe him. God, how you want to. But the pain of his absence, the confusion and betrayal, it all comes rushing back.

"Do you remember our last spring together?" he asks suddenly, his voice soft and wistful. "How we'd lie in the grass for hours, talking about everything and nothing?"

The memory washes over you, bittersweet and painful. "Of course I do," you whisper.

Suguru turns to you, his eyes intense. "I've thought about those moments every day since I left. About you. About the choices I've made."

Your heart races, torn between longing and fear. "Why did you leave?" you ask, the question that's haunted you for over a year finally escaping your lips.

He's quiet for a moment, considering his words carefully. "I… realized Jujutsu society was deeply flawed. I had to act, even if it meant leaving everything behind."

There's a gravity to his words that sends a chill down your spine. "What do you mean?" you whisper, almost afraid to hear the answer.

Suguru's eyes darken, and for a moment you see a flicker of something dangerous, something that wasn't there before. 

"Our world is rotting from the inside out," he says, his voice low and intense. "The higher-ups, the clans, even Jujutsu Tech– they're all part of a system that perpetuates suffering. I couldn't stand by and watch anymore."

His intensity startles you. This isn't the gentle, thoughtful Suguru you remember. There's an edge to him now, a darkness that both frightens and intrigues you.

You shake your head, struggling to process his words. "But... but we help people. We protect them from curses."

"Do we?" Suguru asks, his tone sharp. "Or do we simply maintain a status quo that allows curses to flourish in the first place? Think about it. The more negative emotions in the world, the more curses are born. And what creates those negative emotions? Inequality, injustice, pain– all things that the Jujutsu world turns a blind eye to."

His words stir something inside you, a doubt you've tried to ignore. You think of the missions you've been on, the people you've helped, but also the ones you couldn't save. The systemic issues seemed to persist no matter how many curses you exorcised.

“I’m— I’m not going to be one of your followers,” you say, your voice cracking. You feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes.

“I wasn’t asking you to be,” he replies coolly. His presence makes you heady with the familiarity of his spell.

“Then why are you here?” You try to sound firm but your voice is barely above a whisper. “How did you even know where I lived?”

“You must know me better than that. You think I wouldn’t be able to find you?”

Your heart jumps at the same time your blood runs cold. You’re almost thrilled that he sought you out, but it couldn’t be like this.

He reaches out, his fingers brushing against your cheek, wiping away a tear that you didn’t realize had fallen. The touch is gentle. Familiar. It takes every ounce of willpower not to lean into it and preen into his touch like you always have.

“I did miss you, you know. Don’t think that I didn’t,” he drawls. Suguru’s eyes soften, and for a moment, you see a glimmer of the boy you once knew. “My favorite girl.”

You close your eyes, allowing hot tears to run down your face. The liquid salt cascades in warm streams on your skin.

Suguru's words hang in the air, a mix of bittersweet nostalgia and unspoken longing. You feel the weight of his gaze on you, even with your eyes closed. His thumb brushes another tear from your cheek, the touch achingly tender.

"Twigs," he murmurs, the old nickname rolling off his tongue like honey. "Look at me."

You hesitate, afraid of what you'll see in his eyes, afraid of your own heart's treacherous desires. But you've never been able to resist him, not really. Slowly, you open your eyes, meeting his intense gaze.

He's closer now, close enough that you can see the flecks of gold in his dark irises. His breath ghosts over your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

"I never wanted to hurt you," he says softly, his voice tinged with regret. "You have to know that."

"But you did," you whisper, your voice cracking. "You left. Without a word, without an explanation. You left me and Satoru and everything we'd built together. I–”

I loved you. We loved you.

Suguru's jaw clenches at the mention of Satoru.

"I couldn't stay. Not after everything I learned, everything I saw. It would have been a lie."

You shake your head, anger and hurt rising in your chest. "And this isn't a lie? Sneaking into my apartment in the middle of the night, touching me like nothing has changed?"

"Everything has changed," Suguru counters, his voice taking on a sharper edge. "The world is not what we thought it was. What I thought it was. I couldn't continue to be a part of a system I no longer believed in."

“You could’ve talked to Satoru and I—”

“If Satoru was in my position, it would be easy for him,” he snaps. “He’d find a way to get you to believe in him. You would probably find a reason anyway.”

“That’s not true!” your voice cracks. “He wouldn’t kill every non-sorcerer—”

“But he could, my sweet girl. You’re blinded by him. You’ve always seen him as a god, haven’t you?”

You shake your head desperately, pathetically. His words make you feel smaller than you’ve ever felt.

You feel the sting of Suguru's words, an accusation wrapped in a painful truth. Your relationship with Satoru has always been complex, the unspoken power dynamic frustrating you throughout the years. But to hear Suguru lay it bare, to twist it into something ugly– it feels like a knife to the heart.

“That’s not fair,” you whisper, your voice trembling. “You know there’s more to him than that.”

Suguru's expression hardens, a flicker of something dark and possessive in his eyes. "Satoru will never understand. He's too blinded by his own power, his own sense of righteousness. He can't see the world as it truly is."

You take a step back, shaking your head. "And you can? Suguru, listen to yourself. You wouldn’t—" You choke on the words, unable to say them out loud. "The Suguru I knew would never pick on the weak. He wouldn’t turn his back on—”

Suguru moves forward, closing the distance between you once again. His hand comes up to cup your face, his touch gentle despite the intensity of his gaze. 

"I haven't turned my back on you," he murmurs, his voice low and intimate. "I could never do that. Don't you see? Everything I'm doing, it's for a better world. A world where we can be together without the chains of the Jujutsu society holding us back."

You stare at him, torn between the pull of his words and the screaming warnings in your head. This is wrong. This isn't the Suguru you knew, the gentle, thoughtful boy who held you under the cherry blossoms. But oh, how you want to believe him. How you want to sink into his touch and let the world fall away.

"Suguru..." you breathe, your resolve crumbling.

He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear. 

"Baby," he whispers, his voice a siren's call. "I know you. You’ve gotten stronger. You’re the strongest girl I’ve ever met. I remember that mission in the forest, how you exhausted yourself. You’re so fucking powerful. Don’t you know you could be more than a pawn for the higher-ups? For Satoru?”

“Don’t,” you retort harshly. “I’m not a fucking pawn for anyone and I won’t be one for you.”

Suguru's eyes flash with a mix of surprise and admiration at your fiery response. He leans back slightly, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "There she is," he murmurs, almost to himself. "That fire. That strength. That's the girl I remember."

You blink rapidly, caught off guard by his reaction. You expected anger, frustration, not this strange sense of pride.

He shakes his head, the smile fading. "You're right. I shouldn't have said that about Satoru. Old habits, I suppose." He sighs, running a hand through his dark hair. "I didn't come here to fight with you or to try to sway you to my side. I just wanted to check on you.”

“I’m fine,” you mutter.

Suguru nods, a rueful smile on his lips. "I suppose I should leave before he comes back? He'd probably try to kill me on sight. Not that I'd blame him."

“He wouldn’t. He would never do that,” you say quickly.

The thought sends a chill through you. The idea of Suguru and Satoru, once inseparable, now on opposite sides of a war you don't fully understand.

“I won't ask you to keep this a secret," Suguru says, as if reading your thoughts. "I won't put you in that position. But I needed you to know...no matter what happens, no matter what you might hear about me, my feelings for you have never changed."

Your heart skips a beat. It's the closest he's ever come to a confession, to putting a name to the unspoken thing that's always simmered between you.

"Suguru..." you begin, but he shakes his head, cutting you off.

"Don't," he says softly. "Don't say anything you might regret. I know where your heart lies, even if you don't fully realize it yourself yet."

He takes a step back, and you feel the loss of his proximity like a physical ache. "I should go," he murmurs.

You close your eyes, tears falling down your face. You don’t even sense his departure. He leaves as quietly as he entered.

__

Satoru is often needy when he comes back to you lately. He hopes to see in his bed, anyway, but doubts it considering your most recent argument he had with you.

It wouldn’t be an unusual occurrence if he found you there–  he often returns from his missions and finds you curled up in his bed. Despite your reservations, you’ve been staying in his room more often. After an intense video game session with the kids or a particularly intense night with him, you don’t bother to make the trip to your apartment downstairs.

In Satoru’s apartment, you have extra skincare products (he bought them) and a toothbrush (it had been sitting in the mug on his counter since you came back to Tokyo. Just in case.).

He comes home at an ungodly time. Nothing was open save for the local konbini and twenty-four diner, neither of which he had any options he wanted. There was no onigiri left, so he snacks on matcha pocky, knowing you’d scold him for it if you were awake.

His heart stops when he opens the door to his bedroom and sees you in his bed. But not just because of how beautiful you look in between his sheets, lit by soft hues by the moon.

But because he smells him.

Satoru can sense the cursed energy on your body. It’s like a perfume that doesn’t belong to your skin, yet he can feel it cling to you.

A rabbit hole opens in his brain, splitting into a black hole as he spirals. He’s been here, maybe in this apartment, and he’s touched you.

You twitch, your lips stuck in a cherubic pout. Satoru wants to bite you.

Selfishly, he does. Canine nipping at the junction of your shoulder. You stir and feel his arms tighten around you.

“Satoru?” you mumble, your voice soft and sleep-laced.

“It’s late,” he whispers. “Go back to sleep.”

But you can’t, not with his teeth on your neck. He licks and kisses the back of your neck with an urgent cadence, almost with frustration. He grabs at your covers impatiently. He only rushes like this when something’s bothering him.

He’d woken you from such a heavy sleep that you’re still adjusting to being conscious. He feels as much as a dream as Suguru standing in your kitchen–

You freeze at the memory.

You make a noise of surprise when you feel his hardness prod at you from behind.

"Satoru," you breathe. "What's wrong?"

He doesn't answer, just presses himself closer, his hand sliding beneath your nightshirt. His touch is electric, sending shivers down your spine. But there's an edge to it, a desperation you haven’t felt from him since you were teenagers.

"Nothing," he murmurs against your skin, but his voice is tight. "I just need you."

You turn in his arms, facing him in the moonlight. His blue eyes are dark, stormy with an emotion you can't quite place. Jealousy? Fear?

"Tell me," you insist, cupping his face.

Satoru hesitates, his jaw clenching.

"Shitty mission,” he mutters. You know he’s lying.

“Satoru," you start, but he cuts you off with a bruising kiss. You imagine in combat, fighting curses with the same kind of aggression. The thought sours in your brain but warms the animal of your body. He felt the same as he did when he was nineteen.

His knuckles graze underneath your panties, the silver ring you’d given him cold against the skin of your inner thigh.

I have to get you a matching one now, he’d joked weeks prior. Then we’ll be engaged.

You knew without a doubt he was dead serious.

He bites your shoulder again and pushes you onto your stomach. Reflexively, you push your ass and feel his hard cock between the offending fabric of his boxers. When had he undressed?

“Please,” he breathes into your ear.

You don’t respond. You simply push down your underwear, already drenched from his jagged kisses. 

He grunts as he pushes into you. You wince at the thickness, stinging just barely from the lack of prep. His large hand pushes your shirt up from beneath you to grope at your tits. His other hand snakes in between your legs to rub at your puffy clit.

You gasp at how heavy he feels inside of you. Each snap of his hips feels harsher than the last.

“Couldn’t stop thinking about this,” Satoru mutters, as if to himself. “About fucking you.”

You whimper in response.

“Yeah? You missed my cock inside you?”

“Yes,” you choke out.

“You sure? No one beat me to it, already?” His voice is slightly bitter, so low and buried in your shoulder blade that you almost don’t catch it.

Your eyes widen. You turn slightly to see his blue eyes nearly glowing in the moonlight, brows furrowed as he focuses on his hard thrusts.

“Satoru, I–”

“Wouldn’t blame him. I’d miss this cunt, too, if I was gone for a year and a half.”

“I–I didn’t—”

“Do you think about him when I’m inside you?” 

His face is scarily neutral even though he’s fucking you so rough. Each time he knocks into you, it takes your breath away, your pussy tightening at how impossibly deep he is.

“No,” you whimper.

“It’s okay if you do,” Satoru laughs bitterly. “I think about him too. Both of you.”

You moan softly as he lifts your hips and drives into you deeper.

“You thought I wouldn’t be able to smell him? Feel his residuals all over you?” he grunts. His teeth are bared as he fucks you. Sex-starved. Part animal, part god.

You don’t have it in you to respond. You can’t think of anything when he gets like this, the undulating motion of his cock molding your insides to him and him alone. 

He groans in pleasure, his hand a soft noose around your neck as he lifts you up by the chin. He turns your face over your shoulder so he can kiss you roughly, teeth on your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. It’s all making you dizzy.

Your pussy constricts around him. You think you hear him laugh breathily. He presses down on your lower back at the same time you close your legs. He drives into you, your cunt tight and snug. 

Satoru coaxes a thumb in your mouth and it makes the thread of desire in your gut fray. It’s so close to snapping. You can feel yourself about to cum.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he rasps. “That’s it. Fuck.”

A whine is pulled from your throat when the pressure inside of you blows over. Your pussy constricts around him and his thrusts get rougher. Meaner. 

Your dry throat feels like it’s on fire, your body wrung out with tiredness and ecstasy all at once. He fills you to the brim, finally, cursing as he buries his face into your hair.

For a moment, the dark room is filled with exhales and nothing else. You wince when he pulls out of you. He sits on his knees and soothes a hand on your back underneath your shirt.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

You turn to face him. “I liked it.”

“You know what I mean,” he swallows.

You nod slowly. The two of you stare at each other for what feels like an eternity.

“It wasn’t what you think.” Not a betrayal. Barely a rendezvous.

Satoru exhales, his mouth in a taut line. “Did he hurt you?”

Neither of you could say his name. It had always bothered you that Satoru would never say his name,

“No. You know he wouldn’t.”

“I know.”

You lick your lips nervously. “He said he missed me. And that he came to check on me. I asked him why he left.”

“And?”

“It was probably all the same stuff he told you.”

Satoru’s face stays eerily calm. “Alright.”

“You’re… not upset? Or mad?”

His face softens at how terrified you look. “No, baby. I’m not.”

Without a word, he goes to the bathroom. You lie on your back and stare at the ceiling. You feel sick, suddenly. As if something has shifted the atmosphere entirely.

You’re almost asleep when Satoru returns. He brings a warm towel in between your legs and kisses both of your knees. You keep your eyes closed– you can’t bear to look at his eyes right now.

He’s glad for it. You’re unable to tell that his eyes are a little red, soul-weary.

As he rests beside you, arm draped over your waist, you feel his warm breath on your neck whispering, “I love you.”