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typewritingyip · 2 months ago

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The Arcturus Missions

Part Twenty Nine - Turbulence

Part Twenty Eight

Content Warning - Vomit, Violence, & Gore

———

The human olfactory system is remarkably sensitive, able to detect a wide range of odors. It is known to trigger memories and reproduce strong feelings.

Humans are able to detect volatile chemicals and distinguish different scents rapidly, ensuring the safety of the body.

Smell or the olfactory system helps decide what you eat, how things can taste, and warns the person of potential hazards; often in cases of fire or gas leaks.

Pilots have been seen to have enhanced senses after compatibility testing and implantation, especially in the olfactory system. Increasing sensitivity to smell, taste, and hazard awareness.

When overuse occurs it can have an increasing negative effect on the enhancements seen from implantation and drift technology.

—

New Kaon was under siege, more than just one side of the city was being attacked and Megatron’s troops were spread out around the boundary. For the moment they were keeping the Quintessons at bay but it wouldn’t last forever.

Command was bustling and mechs were rushing around, Hound was sat down while someone he didn’t know was doing repairs to his gun and clearing out the sand filled barrel.

Knockout comes in although wrinkling his nose upon g drawing close to Hound, “You still reek of rust, Hound. Are you sure you’re repairs are well?” glancing up, Hound shrugs a bit, “I don’t exactly think now is the time to worry of it.” Knockout scowled before walking across command to talk with a few mecha.

Sighing slowly, Hound rubs his neck slightly, frowning as his assistance suits’ glove comes away with discharge and blood. Standing back up, he moves through to the other side of command where Megatron was on comms. He sits down on a crate and closes his eyes for a moment.

That moment didn’t last long.

Megatron was on comms with Cybertron and yelling, for how often Hound heard people make jokes about Optimus and Megatron being disgustingly married, this certainly reminded him more of how his marriage ended.

“You cannot request for the space bridge to be opened, you are not the senate and hold no power over it!” Megatron’s fist collided with the console and the screen flickered, “The law states that in the event of an emergency during the war on one of the colony planets—“ With a growl, Megatron pointed, “New Kaon is not a colony! Nor are we requesting the help of the United Cybertronian Army!” His claws dragged down his face.

Optimus Prime was clearly growing angry himself, optics darkening slightly and scowl evident even behind the mask, “Megatron, you can’t expect me not to intervene when Cybertronian’s are in danger.” Megatron growled, “But we cannot risk the lives of those on Cybertron for your need to intervene!” He moves closer to the screen, “This has not been a war between our people, this is a war against an old enemy and one that I intend to win while you seem content to lose!” Optimus stood and there was an echo through the other side of the line.

”And what, exactly, of my actions makes it seem like I do not wish to save our people?” Megatron laughed, “Just as always Prime, you fail to recognize the need for necessary sacrifices.” Optimus scoffs, “Sometimes you, Megatron, are too willing to write off the loss Cybertronian lives as necessary evils when it is easier than finding a proper strategy.” Megatron’s fist slammed back into the comms station, the screen shorting briefly.

He tried to take a breath, “Prime, the ridiculousness of your strategy, of threatening Cybertron for even a second, for the small number of lives you may evacuate and the little reinforcement you may bring, reminds me of your predecessors! After all, you were the one to comm me, while I was defending my people. You assumed that I would need your help defending my own.” Optimus stared at him and Hound swore that the room grew cold.

With a slight nod, Optimus took a breath, “Lord Protector, your outburst was unwarranted and your comparison baseless, we agreed in order for this peace to work that we must communicate. Would you not have done the same? I do not believe you are incapable, old friend, however I have found when times are dire, a helping hand goes farther than you think.” Megatron rolled his optics, arms crossed.

“Prime, I thought you would have outgrown this naïveté by now. I cannot spend precious time coddling your emotions, I need to attend to my people.” He nodded slightly, taking another breath and Optimus started to speak up, “Lord Protector, do not speak to me as if I am sparkling, I believe you forget I am calling as your Prime and that there are vows of your station which you are expected to uphold!” Megatron grit his teeth, before glancing down at the comms station and ending the transmission.

—

Optimus Prime stood in his office, staring at his transmission screen before looking across the room at Soundwave, “I believe that the Lord Protector has just implied that I should pen his resignation and tear up the peace agreement.” Soundwave stared unblinking, “Soundwave: suggests Lord High Protector will see the error of his way. Optimus Prime: is known for his limitless mercy.”

Optimus growled, “Prepare my battle craft, alert Elita and my other commanders, if he will not abide by his vows, then I have no need to abide by his wishes and will join my people in battle. Prepare a public statement, alerting the citizens to my imminent departure. It is time that the Lord Protector be reminded that I am not a golden statute.” he starts out of the room, pausing at the doorway, “And Soundwave,”

”Yes: my Prime?” Optimus takes a breath, “I need the solvent sent for the removal of the primal filigree. It need not appear on the battlefield, I would hate to anger the medic in the destruction of his work.” He turned down the hall, pedsteps heavy, “Soundwave: wonders if this can be called peace.” The poor mech's head hit the table.

—

The space was eerily quiet without the Prime’s voice coming through the comm line, even the explosions outside seemed muted. Megatron was quick to act and turned over the comms station which he had already dented and scratched.

Hound shifted on his crate, desperately wishing to be anywhere else but the current order of remaining by Megatron’s side seemed to linger. He attempted to escape more than once and had been blocked by those in the other half of command. Likely their scapegoat.

Instead, he felt maybe speaking up would be a better idea of escape.

“Well, uh, sir if you don’t mind me saying—“ “I do mind.” Hound was quick to shut up, staring as Megatron paced before the mech sighed deeply, “Proceed.” Hound cleared his throat a bit, “Uh, sir. That seemed rather violent.” With a nod, Megatron turned to the command table and reactivated the map of New Kaon.

The pair of them stayed silent for a minute, Hound watching as Megatron moved slowly around the map, “The Prime and I have always been the opposite sides of the same coin. For millennia we were enemies, as Jazz put it, kick down drag out enemies.” Hound tried very hard not to wince, “We both rose everyday to paint the earth with the other's blood, to stop our troops from being frightened of the other.” He sighed slowly.

Leaning forward, Hound stared, “Then how did the pair of you end up so… close?” Megatron chuckled lightly, claws tapping against the table, “Over a century of peace negotiations. We found ourselves stressed and only knew how to relieve it in one way,” There was a moment of pause where Hound was forcibly reminded that in that way, their species were more similar than he’d like to admit.

“Through aggression, through battle and eventually our schedules found us at the same places at the same times. Communication that wasn’t yelling and forced calm became typical. When the position of Lord High Protector was offered, it was one that I could not refuse.” He paused, staring down at the table.

He cleared his throat painfully, “I believe your rifle should be repaired and that our presence is needed on the battlefield.” Megatron was quick to leave command, leaving Hound sitting there for a moment.

”I’m beginning to think divorce should be universal and not seemingly just an Earth thing.” He grumbled and stood.

The back of his neck burned and drained as the time in his suit dragged on, starting outside, he nearly ran into the mech with his gun before jogging to catch up with Megatron, “Sir, my orders?”

“Kill the damned things, as many of them as you can, as fast as you can. Without getting yourself killed in the process. Primus knows I’ll never hear the end of it from your unit.” Hound tried not to smile, nodding before looking back out to the battlefield.

Where seekers were firing on the enemy and dropping bombs, while grounders were doing their best as the Quintessons continued to flood from the crashed ship, “That’s never in the plan, sir.” Hound checks over his gun before heading out towards the battle at a run.

Before now, his air tanks had been filled with fresh non-recycled air. Though now he had been away from Iacon long enough and in a mildly toxic environment where the air needed to be cycled.

All the smell hit him at once, the smell of himself and of the spent bandages in his cockpit. Of the food that he had to leave behind or thrown across the room. The current smell of his implants draining and face bleeding, and suddenly it was too much.

Gagging was the worst part, as not much was in his stomach, but what was ended up covered the legs of his assistance suit, “Oh god.” That only made things worse. His suit continued to run and he knew he didn’t have time to clean up.

Once the nausea passed, he strapped on his oxygen mask and activated the smaller tasks embedded in his seat for emergencies, it would have to do till the battle was done.

—

Ironhide was alerted first, Soundwave sending the emergency alert since the Prime was on the move. Though their disaster of a mission wasn’t fully cleaned up yet, there was a difference between one scouting ship and a full on assault on a Cybertronian run city.

Sunstreaker was still listening to Bluestreak, raptured by the concept of weapons designed solely to not harm cybertronian’s but cause catastrophic damage to organics. Bluestreak sounded tired, but kept talking, trying to keep Sunstreaker entertained and happy. He knew that Sunny wasn’t hurt, but it was hard to face that fact.

It was only when Ironhide came running over did he fall silent, staring, “What’s wrong?” Sunny grabbed up his helmet and put it on, shuffling back over to his piloting chair, “I just got word from Soundwave, the Prime is heading to New Kaon. They're under siege.” Blue gawked, “But, but how?” Ironhide shook his head a bit while Sunstreaker was getting back into his assistance suit.

“I don’t know, but Soundwave is making adjustments. Most of us are going there other than Skyfire and his mechs, Elita and her crew are being spread out on Cybertron to monitor the situation there but it is Elita we’re talking about.” Bluestreak sighed deeply, “So Soundwave is going to be with Elita’s crew while she’s with the prime.” Ironhide nodded.

It was only a few more seconds before Sunstreaker was plugged back into his suit, “Go ahead and wake up Civi, even if he’s hurt we’ll probably need him.” Ironhide shakes his head sadly, frowning, “Yes sir.” Before Sunny could even brighten his shattered visor, Ironhide was off.

Adjusting his cameras and deactivating the broken ones, Sunstreaker breathes slowly, “So, we’re moving out?” Bluestreak stared, “You could stay—“ “No, no way in hell.” Pushing off the ground, Sunstreaker offered a hand up to Bluestreak, “Come on, we’ve got Quints to kill.” Blue tried to smile.

Pulling him up, Sunny put an arm around Blue’s shoulders, “This could be interesting, it’s hardly been a week and a half, yet Hound already needs our help. Seriously.” Bluestreak tried to smile, nodding a bit but still couldn’t be convinced.

Sunstreaker looks at him and sighs deeply, stopping and turning quickly, taking Bluestreaks’ shoulders, “Blue, I am alright. I’m not hurt and if I was, you’d be the first to know. We’ve gotta focus, we’re going into something that sounds deadly serious. If you can’t pull it together they’ll sit your ass out and I’m going in regardless of my current state. Or, you do pull yourself together and have each others backs.” Bluestreak stared, open mouthed for a moment.

The moment dragged before Bluestreak rests his hands on Sunstreaker’s arms, staring at him, “Alright, alright. If you’re truly okay.” Sunny smiled a bit, “Scouts honor.” Bluestreak frowned slightly, “But you're not a scout. You're a front-liner.” And Sunstreaker laughed.

Throwing his arm back around Bluestreak’s shoulder, Sunstreaker started back towards where Ironhide went, “Tell me about where we’re going.” And this time, Bluestreak smiled, nodding, “Well, New Kaon was one of the first major strongholds built during the last war not on Cybertron, it was sort of the moment we all began to realize that this would be going on for a while.”

While Bluestreak talked, Sunstreaker listened and started to help the others reload supplies onto the shuttle. He was thankful that other then for the occasional pep-talk, he didn’t always have to butt into the conversation and Blue was content to fill the silence so long as Sunny was listening.

Most of the mecha around had turned down their audials.

—

It only took around an hour of peace for Sideswipe to grow bored and leave the bar, though now memorizing the way back out. Walking toward the taller buildings in Iacon though they were at a longer distance than he thought they’d be.

The sun had been on the verge of setting before he entered the bar and now it was nearly completely dark. If he didn’t feel confident that he could take anyone on this planet in a fight, he’d have probably adjusted his bracers before the trek back to the apartment.

It took about an hour to find his way back, exhausted and starving when he got there, only to freeze upon entering the apartment.

Elite-One and Breakdown were standing in the middle of the room, talking, Sideswipe clears his throat a bit, “Hey, BD, you’re supposed to be resting.” It was the first time in a little over a week that the old man had been in his suit.

Breakdown nods slightly, movements a bit stiff, “Something has happened on one of the colonies. Elita is meant to be watching over Cybertron, but—“ “But I’m not an idiot and refuse to let my Prime go into battle alone.” She sighs a bit, “I was going to request that you join Skids in north Iacon but you weren’t here.” Her hands rest on her hips.

With a bit of a nod, Sideswipe moves into the room and closes the door, “Uh, yeah. I didn’t exactly want to break apart Jazz’s apartment.” He slowly leans against the nearby wall, “And it’s late. Breakdown and I should be getting some sleep.” She very clearly did not like that answer.

“Sideswipe, Breakdown is coming with me to New Kaon. You can either report to Paraxus and remain under Prowl’s command, or you can join your team in North Iacon. There are no other options.” Sideswipe’s jaw twitched and his fingers flexed slowly, “You know, I don’t take orders well.” And Elita smiled, “Oh, I know. So, which is it going to be? And I will say this, your choice is going to be a determining factor of your future.” She glanced at Breakdown, “Ensure he makes the right choice and meet me outside.” She started out of the apartment and Sideswipe turned, Breakdown was quick to grab his arm before he could swing.

His grip was almost tight enough to crush the plating on Sideswipe’s arm, “Sideswipe, you are not going to strike your commander.” Simon was fuming, “And why the hell not? She’s not even giving me a choice in going!” Breakdown sighed deeply, “It’s because she’s the one one from her unit going. If you went it would look bad. Prowl suggested you stay.” Taking a deep breath, Sideswipe looks to Breakdown before pinging his comm.

Both men turn on their internal camera and properly look at each other.

Sideswipe looked exhausted, broken down while Breakdown looked well rested and almost human, “Sideswipe, go to North Iacon. Get to know your team and prove everyone wrong. You are capable and better at killing Quintessons than most.” Breakdown’s hand rested on Sideswipes shoulder, “You can rest on the transport and get some sleep once you’re there. If you went to Paraxus they wouldn’t trust you and if you snuck off to New Kaon you’d never leave this apartment.” With a deep sigh, Sideswipe nodded, rubbing his face.

“Alright, alright. But tell me everything when you get back. Then I’ll tell you about the bar that plays 80’s music.” Breakdown paused and started to smile, “Earth music?” Smiling and nodding, “Yeah, you’ll love it.” They shared a tired smile, before Breakdown started past him, patting Sideswipe’s back, “North Iacon.” Sideswipe nods, “North Iacon.” He sighs and shakes his head as the door closes behind Breakdown.

Sideswipe leans his head back and groans before moving to grab up some food and drinks for the trip.

Breakdown starts down to the street, looking for Elita, and just about jumps out of his skin when she seems to appear, “Well?” Smiling a bit, he nods, “Sideswipe will be on his way to North Iacon.” She smiles and nods slowly, “Good, come on then, I expect the only way to prevent either the Prime’s or Lord High Protector’s moods from growing worse is being fast and bringing better news.” Breakdown nodded and tried not to smile, “So, uh, my good health?” “Is the better news.” Nodding again, they started towards Iacon central, for headquarters.

They walked in silence for the first few minutes, Breakdown kept glancing at Elita, “So, what is New Kaon like?” Biting back a smile, Elita shrugs a bit, “Hot, dusty, and under attack currently. Ask what you actually want to ask Breakdown.” Nodding a bit, Breakdown glances around and looks back, “Why are we going?” Sighing, Elita shakes her head, “To prevent another war from starting in the middle of this one.” Breakdown nodded slowly.

—

The ground was blowing up around him and Hound was breathing heavily, thankful for the oxygen mask at that moment. Sand was blowing everywhere and he crashed behind some cover, arm half blown off and leaking oil.

He was thankful that it wasn’t painful to him.

Still breathing heavily, it took him a moment way too long to realize Mirage was over him, holding his suit’s arm together, “Hound!” Blinking a bit, he tilts his head slightly, “What?” The poor mech looked terrified, “What do you mean what? You weren’t answering!” Taking another breath, “Oh, sorry.” Mirage shakes his head a bit.

“Your arm is coming off.” Hound tried not to smile, shaking his head a bit, “No, it’ll be alright. Doesn’t even hurt.” Mirage looked horrified, hands getting covered in oil, “Your kind have been monsters to their heroes.” Sighing slowly, Hound pulls back and almost smacks the head of his suit into nearby rocks, “Mirage, you don’t know them.” His good hand came up and shoved Mirage back.

Once the mech was off him, Hound grabbed up his gun and stood again, staring out at the battlefield, “If you can’t accept that my job is to fight and die for this cause, then I’d suggest just staying away.” He throws his mech over the rocks and heads back into the battle, gun coming up and firing. Blasting apart the nearest Quintesson.

Mirage stayed in the sand, rifle abandoned around fifty yards back, his hands were covered in oil.

There were some things that were hard to face and at this moment, it was hitting Mirage hard. Hound didn’t feel pain when he was hurt, neither did Jazz or any of the other humans. They’d been engineered to not feel pain.

They’d all had new plating put over their own, which likely was stamped with property labels. Their mission had been a suicide mission for data and all of them threw themselves at danger as if they had no fear.

No matter how much he cared for Hound, the mech couldn’t accept that there was a path forward. Sinking a bit in the sand, Mirage looks at the clearing sky, it was already starting to get dark again which meant Hound would be exhausted long before the battle was over.

His spark fluxed painfully and he couldn’t help but swear loudly, he loved the idiot and if he didn’t at least try to protect Hound he’d never forgive himself.

With another swear, Mirage gets up and goes invisible, taking off back towards his rifle.

Hound was at present ripping the limbs off a Quintesson, bad arm and gun pinned. His other arm wrapped around a tentacle and pulled with horrific noises, ripping the thing apart with too little effort. At least in the eyes of any Cybertronian.

These suits were designed to kill Quintessons, they didn’t care how or if it was gruesome.

Megatron’s ion cannon was booming in the distance, while Hound’s fingers dug into the flesh of the alien and tore, spraying green blood across the rocks and sand.

The alien exploded with a perfectly placed rifle blast, Hound glancing back and scanning the horizon for Mirage, though not seeing him he could tell where the mech was and gave a light salute. There was a brief flash of a rifle scope in the light and Hound smiled.

Turning back towards the enemy, he did something that probably would freak out most of the mecha around, taking his busted up arm and heating up his gun. Preventing it from firing, he resealed the broken tubing and then tugged the broken plating back into a moveable position. It screeched and grinded which was painful on Hound’s ears, but he needed both arms working for this fight. The adrenaline the only think keeping him away.

———

A/N:

I had this chapter done like, 2 hours ago, but I was out of the house and kept adding little things. 3.7k later here’s the chapter. I kinda wanted to reach 4k but it’s fine.

Thank you @daffodils-and-bonfires for your help with the megop dialogue. I really wanted this moment to make clear that they were commanders facing the first actual parts of this war since the dawn of their peace.

I’ve loved all the asks I’ve gotten the last few days, please consider giving them a read.

But, yeah. I hope you enjoy this chapter it was a lot of work lol.

Tags:

@lunarlei68 @whirlywhirlygig @loop-hole-319 @pixillandjester @alek-the-witch @not-a-moose-in-disguise @goddessofwind8water @neurologicalglitch @dersereblogger @pixel-transformers @mrcrayonofdoom @wireplaces @twilightfreefaller @original-blog-name-2 @devilangel657 @robbin-u @childofprimus @miniartistme @starwold @tea-enthusiasm @valeexpris606 @celticdoggo @bird599 @agentsquirrelsgotrobots @aquaioart @dimencreasatlas @thatwandercat @artdagz @seisha974 @starscreamloverfr @halenhusky309 @leethepiper @cat-cassette @blue-wrens @sirassban @cosmique-oddity @garbageenthusiast @osqindaxend @xervias @azulabutterfly @fryseem @spring-mc @echo-circuit @aghostsnail @wooblewooble @ask-glory-haddock-and-others @nonsscrapheap @magichats @iminahole247 @omgflyingderpywhale @pour1tin @thetrexartist @naaaafam @elegantmantaray @emichusai @waterlilykitty @diabolichare @ham4ponyo @osqindaxend @sunnyvibesanddoodlez @ratatatata248

As always, thank you to the incredible @keferon for this AU. It’s so fun.

#transformers #maccadam #tf mecha universe #tf mecha au #mecha pilot jazz au #mech pilot jazz au #the arcturus missions #hound #mirage #sunstreaker #Bluestreak #Ironhide #breakdown #sideswipe #elita one #optimus prime #megatron #soundwave

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nanamineedstherapy · 4 months ago

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Third Wheeling Your Own Marriage

F!Non-Sorceress CEO Reader X Gojo Satoru X Nanami Kento

Summary: You should be overjoyed that Gojo Satoru & Nanami Kento are your husbands. But you feel your skin crawl as you become the third wheel in your own marriage.

Trigger Warnings: Verbal abuse, grief, and loss, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Found Family, Redemption Arc, Mild Violence, Emotional Hurt, Disassociation, Depression.

A/N: Before you start reading—Daddy Toji is here!!! Rejoice!!! Welcome to Lobotomy Kaisen: Existential Crisis Edition™! 🎭 This chapter has everything: unhinged family banter, unexpected sweetness, and emotional trauma disguised as plot development. Let’s get into it before Megumi sends the SWAT team after us! Also, I know I said this ending was supposed to be only 3 parts, but it spiraled into a huge monster, so it will be 3 more parts, but it's already written, so hopefully the updates will be consistent every 2 or 3 days. :)

Previous Chapter 6 (alt ending 1.2) - Veiled Realities (Tumblr/Ao3)

Chapter 7 (alt ending 1.3) - Sapphire Echoes

Gumi: Why did you invite them to your place?!

Gumi: I’m coming over, and if I find them there, I’ll kill them!

// Playlist

The sunlight was golden, warm, and gentle, streaming through the large windows of a house you didn’t recognize but somehow felt like home. The faint scent of jasmine lingered in the air, mingling with the soft hum of laughter as you walked outside the house.

“Alright, gremlins,” Gojo announced, spinning on his heel. “Today, Daddy is going to teach you how to fight. It’s all about flair and finesse.”

Nanami, standing a few feet away with his arms crossed, let out a long, suffering sigh. “You’re not their only father, and they don’t need flair. They need discipline and control.”

Gojo turned, gasping like Nanami had just insulted his very existence. “Discipline? Control? What are we, accountants?”

“I wasn’t an accountant; I was an investment broker. There’s a difference; I wouldn’t expect your non-college graduate ass to understand,” Nanami deadpanned, adjusting his glasses.

“Exactly my point!” Gojo shot back, pointing a finger at him. “That’s why they need me. To balance out your boring lectures.”

“Balance?” Nanami arched an eyebrow. “You’ve never balanced anything in your life, including your own emotions.”

Their nine-year-old daughter, golden-haired and mischievous, stood between them, bouncing on her toes with excitement. “Daddy, can I use Ratio to mess with people? Like... cut the hair of the boy I like?”

Gojo’s grin widened, his sunglasses slipping down his nose. “Now that’s my girl. Even I didn’t think of that!”

Nanami pinched the bridge of his nose. “No. You cannot use cursed techniques for petty pranks. It will get you suspended or arrested.”

“But what if it’s a really good prank?” She countered, her hazel eyes sparkling with mischief.

Gojo crouched down beside her, whispering loudly enough for everyone to hear. “Don’t listen to him. Petty pranks are the best kind.”

“Absolutely not,” Nanami snapped, his tone sharper now. “You’re already too much like him.”

The girl beamed, taking it as a compliment. “Thanks, Dada!”

You, standing off to the side, covered your mouth to stifle a laugh. “You have given birth to female Gojo, Ken. She’s your little chaos gremlin. Just accept it.”

“She’s your chaos gremlin too,” he muttered, shooting you a look that said he blamed you for this. Gojo was very smug about the fact, not even attempting to hide it.

Meanwhile, their son stood off to the side, arms crossed and a perpetual frown etched onto his face. His white hair fell into his blue eyes, which were narrowed in quiet judgment.

“This is stupid,” he muttered, his voice carrying all the weight of some adult who thought he knew better than everyone else.

Nanami turned to him, his expression softening slightly. “What’s ridiculous?”

“All of it,” the boy replied, gesturing vaguely at his sister and Gojo, who were now snickering about the ethical implications of using ratio to cheat at board games. “They’re wasting time.”

Gojo overheard and gasped. “Wasting time? I’m teaching valuable life skills here!”

The boy didn’t even blink. “You’re teaching her how to be annoying.”

“Exactly!” Gojo said, throwing his arms wide. “And what’s more important than that?”

“Literally everything,” the boy replied flatly, his tone so deadpan that even Nanami’s lips twitched in amusement.

“Alright, enough talk,” Gojo declared, clapping his hands together. “Let’s spar. Chaos Gremlin versus Mr. Rainy Day.”

Their daughter lit up, bouncing on her toes. “Yes! I’m gonna crush you!”

The boy sighed, stepping into position. “You’re going to lose.”

“Over my dead body,” she shot back, her energy already crackling around her.

Nanami and Gojo stood on opposite sides of the field, both offering advice at the same time.

“Focus on control!” Nanami called out.

“Forget control! Style is everything!” Gojo yelled.

You stood between them, arms crossed. “How about we let them figure it out without shouting conflicting advice?”

Both men glared at each other but stayed quiet—for about five seconds.

The sparring began, their cursed techniques clashing in a brilliant display. The boy moved with focus, his infinity stretching around him. His sister, on the other hand, darted around unpredictably, her movements wild but effective, her ratio blades slicing through the air like a scalpel.

“Don’t just stand there, Emo Kid!” Gojo hollered. “Go for the win!”

“Precision,” Nanami muttered under his breath, his eyes locked on his son. “Wait for her to make a mistake.”

“She doesn’t make mistakes,” Gojo countered. “She’s perfect.”

“You’re impossible,” Nanami replied, his voice flat.

When the sparring ended, both kids were panting but grinning, their energy buzzing in the air around them.

“You did great,” you said, taking both their hands. “Both of you.”

“Better than great,” Gojo added, ruffling his son’s hair. “You’re unstoppable.”

Nanami knelt beside his daughter, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “You’ve improved. But don’t get cocky.”

“Too late,” she replied, grinning up at him.

Letting go of your hands, the children ran ahead, their laughter blending with the rustling leaves as they played with their blobfish plushies.

The sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a warm glow over the scene as it settled into something softer, something whole.

You watched them with awe, your heart full to bursting. “They are beautiful.”

Gojo winked at you. “Of course they are. Look at their parents.”

Nanami glanced at you, his hazel eyes warm. “You’ve done well.”

The sun was now setting, casting the world in hues of orange and pink.

Gojo slid an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “See? Told you we’d make a great team.”

Nanami stood on your other side, his presence grounding. “You should sit,” he said softly, gesturing to a bench beneath a blooming cherry blossom tree.

You sat, watching the children play as the two men sat beside you, their presence comforting and familiar.

The boy turned, his bright blue eyes locking onto yours. “Mama, are you happy?” he asked, his voice carrying an innocence that made your chest tighten.

Tears pricked your eyes as you nodded. “Yes, sweetheart. I’m very happy.”

The world shifted abruptly. The warmth of the sun faded, replaced by the cold gray light of dawn filtering through your bedroom curtains.

You opened your eyes slowly, the weight of the dream pressing against your chest like a heavy stone.

Your cheeks were damp, but as you raised a trembling hand to touch them, you realized your eyes were dry. No tears fell. You were too numb for that now.

The laughter, the warmth, the love—it had all been a cruel illusion. The reality of your empty arms and silent home was suffocating.

Sukuna’s voice broke the silence from the doorway. “Another bad night?”

You didn’t answer, your gaze fixed on the sea outside the window. The waves rolled endlessly, a reflection of the ache in your chest.

“They’re still yours,” his words a faint echo of something he’d said before.

But they weren’t.

And they never would be.

---

// Playlist

Few years ago

The streets glistened with rain, neon signs shimmering in puddles as the faint hum of late-night activity drifted through the cool air. You walked at an easy pace, your heels clicking softly against the pavement. The buzz of alcohol warmed your veins. Tonight, the world seemed softer, its edges blurred, though your mind remained sharp, processing everything around you with clarity.

Gojo Satoru leaned lazily against the post, his white hair catching the glow like freshly fallen snow. Beside him, Nanami Kento stood with his frown deepened by the chill in the air.

“She’s late,” Gojo said in Japanese, glancing at his phone. His voice carried a teasing lilt, though his gaze lingered on the street, betraying his anticipation.

“She doesn’t strike me as someone who cancels plans without notice,” Nanami replied evenly, though his hands tightened slightly in his coat pockets.

Gojo smirked. “Oh? Nanamin’s been paying attention.”

“Don’t call me that.”

Before their banter could escalate, you turned the corner, your long coat swaying with your stride. Your hair, tousled by the breeze, framed a face softened by warmth and openness, an unusual sight for someone as composed as you.

Gojo’s eyes lit up as he nudged Nanami, practically bouncing on his feet. “Nanamin! It’s her! Pretty hoodie lady!” He exclaimed in English, pointing at you like a kid spotting their favorite toy in a store.

Nanami groaned audibly, pressing his palm to his face. “Could you not yell across the street like a lunatic?”

But Gojo wasn’t listening. He was already halfway to you, his enthusiasm cutting through the chill like a warm gust of wind.

“Hey! Pretty hoodie lady!” Gojo’s voice rang out.

“Gojo,” Nanami called after him as he followed. “Don’t run off—”

But you didn't hear and turned in the direction Nanami was coming from.

You suddenly collided with your nose smushing into something firm and expensive-smelling.

“Watch where you're going, you...”

“Careful there,” Nanami’s voice came, smooth and tinged with dry amusement.

Gojo skidded to a halt, his grin growing impossibly wider.

You took a step back, studying them with a raised brow. Recognition flickered as you met their gazes. “Oh, it’s you two.”

“You remember us!” Gojo exclaimed, his English broken but still managing to convey his excitement. However, it was better than the last time. Had he been practicing?! His voice carried a note of pride, as if he’d accomplished something monumental by being memorable.

“Oh, it’s mysterious hoodie lady,” Gojo added, adjusting his sunglasses.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Nanami said, his tone measured, though his eyes flicked over you briefly, assessing and ensuring you were unharmed.

“Gentlemen,” you replied, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Fancy bumping into me.” The alcohol humming through your veins lent a teasing edge to your voice. “But I’m not mad—unless you’re boring. Then we’ll have problems.”

Gojo tilted his head, squinting in confusion. “What she say?”

Nanami sighed, his patience thinning. “She’s challenging you not to be boring.”

“Ohhh!” Gojo’s grin widened, his excitement bubbling over. “I am never boring!”

Nanami questioned. “We didn’t mean to disturb you.”

“You’re not disturbing me,” you replied, your voice warm but measured. “Though, I didn’t expect to see you two again.”

Gojo grinned, his English fumbling but earnest. “We... walking! Saw you!”

Nanami raised an eyebrow, muttering under his breath, “Walking, my ass.”

You chuckled softly, your eyes briefly catching Nanami’s. Without the hood obstructing your vision, you saw warmth and intensity, like the first rays of sunlight breaking through winter’s chill. His gaze wrapped around you, offering solace in a chaotic world, igniting a warmth within you that spread like a soft glow. In that fleeting moment, it felt as if he had touched your soul, awakening a longing for something deeper, something beautifully profound.

Your gaze shifted to Gojo, his eyes peeking over dark sunglasses—a brilliant blue that seemed to hold entire galaxies within them. Time stood still, the world around you fading into a soft blur. You had never seen such eyes—vivid and alive, sparkling with mischief and depth, as if they could read the very essence of your soul. They were the kind of eyes poets raved about, capable of igniting a fire in your heart and weaving a spell

You quickly looked away from the radioactive orbs in the name of eyes he had; it seemed the alcohol was getting to you.

Nanami cleared his throat. “Can we walk you home? It’s late.” His tone even but laced with genuine concern

You nodded your head, your smile softening.

Unbeknownst to you, the men were nearly high-fiving behind you—at least they would have if Nanami weren’t busy trying to engrave your face into his memory. It had taken Gojo standing atop the tallest building to find you. They were supposed to leave the night they met you at the convention, but Yaga had yelled at them to come back every hour since. Yet, they still didn’t know your full name or anything else about you.

“He’s like a Samoyed in human form,” you mused aloud, tilting your head as you studied Gojo.

Gojo almost froze, blinking rapidly. “Samo... what?”

“A Samoyed,” you repeated, grinning. “You know, the big fluffy white dogs that are always happy and smiling?”

Gojo’s jaw dropped. “You think I’m fluffy?”

“Fluffy and cheerful,” you clarified.

Nanami snorted softly, but you turned to him before he could speak. “And you,” you said, gesturing toward him, “you’re... a grumpy Akita Inu. Specifically Hachikō.”

Gojo immediately burst into laughter, clutching his stomach. “Grumpy Akita! Nanamin, that’s so you!”

Nanami’s lips pressed into a thin line, his brows furrowing as he shot Gojo a sharp look. “Stop laughing.”

“But she’s right!” Gojo wheezed, wiping at his eyes behind his sunglasses. “You’re dependable and serious, waiting around like some tragic hero.” He spoke half the words in Japanese.

Nanami ignored him, his attention shifting to you instead, expression unreadable. “Hachikō, the dog known for its loyalty?”

You nodded, your tone softening. “Yeah. Always dependable, always waiting, even when people don’t deserve it. That being said, I wouldn’t wish Hachikō’s fate on you.”

For a moment, his expression flickered—something thoughtful, maybe even vulnerable, passing through his eyes before he nodded. “I see.”

Gojo, however, was still basking in the revelation. “Fluffy and adorable. That’s me!” he declared.

“Adorable is debatable,” Nanami muttered under his breath, earning another laugh from you.

Before Gojo could respond, you added, “Speaking of dogs, have you heard of Etah ?”

Both men’s curiosity piqued.

“Etah was the first dog to reach the South Pole,” you began. “She led Roald Amundsen’s expedition in 1911, surviving the harshest conditions imaginable. A Samoyed, of course—happy, dependable, and heroic. Out of 52 dogs on the expedition, only 12 survived tragically.”

Nanami was live translating for you and Gojo.

Gojo’s grin faltered, replaced by an expression of awe. “Wait, a dog did that? Like, first to the South Pole?”

You nodded, your gaze steady on him. “Exactly. She led the way, braved the cold, and ensured the expedition’s success. And after all that, she lived out her life as a cherished companion to royalty.”

Nanami’s brows rose slightly, his stoicism softening as he murmured, “A testament to loyalty and resilience.”

“Exactly,” you agreed, your excitement bubbling beneath the surface. “She’s a symbol of courage and adaptability. Like Hachikō, but with a touch of adventure.”

Gojo leaned closer, his sunglasses slipping down his nose. “So, you’re saying I’m like Etah? A heroic, adventurous dog with a happy ending?”

You smirked, tilting your head. “Sure, if you can brave the cold and not get distracted by every snowflake.”

Nanami’s lips twitched into the faintest smile. “I think you’d get lost in the snow, Gojo.”

“Hey!” Gojo shot back, his grin unwavering. “That’s what I’d have you for, Nanamin. My loyal Akita, leading the way.”

Nanami sighed heavily, but the faint flush creeping up his neck didn’t escape your notice.

“Of course you’d need him,” you teased, your tone light but cutting. “Not every hero dog gets to live out their life with royalty.”

Gojo’s grin turned thoughtful, a rare flicker of sincerity breaking through his usual bravado as he spoke in half English, half Japanese. “Well, if you’re the royalty, I’m in.”

Nanami muttered something under his breath, his gaze flickering to you for a moment longer than necessary. For all the absurdity of Gojo’s antics, he wasn’t entirely immune to the pull of your presence.

“So, you both are sorcerers?” You asked, walking ahead. You were curious about their techniques. Otherwise, you would have ignored them as Megumi had advised.

Both men froze for a moment. Then Nanami cleared his throat. “Ah, yes. It seems your friend told you about us.”

“All good things, I hope!” Gojo chimed in.

You glanced at him, amused. “Something like that. If it’s okay, could you explain your techniques to me?” You asked, still looking ahead, your expression serene.

Gojo leaned toward Nanami. “What’s she saying now?”

“She wants us to explain our techniques,” Nanami replied in Japanese, his voice deadpan.

Gojo blinked, clearly delighted. “Oh! You want to know my power?”

“Yes,” you said, your tone calm but your eyes sharp.

Both men noted your reluctance to discuss the man with the sea urchin hair, but Nanami was feeling unusually chatty, so he began explaining while Gojo confused you the entire time and interrupted every few seconds with exaggerated gestures and broken English, insisting that his “Infinity is best!”

As the conversation continued, you noticed how Gojo’s childlike enthusiasm and Nanami’s quiet attentiveness complemented each other. There was something grounding about their presence, something that made the world feel a little less chaotic.

“I’m starting to see why you two balance each other out,” you said, your lips twitching with amusement.

Nanami’s gaze flicked to you, a faint softness in his eyes. “Balance isn’t the word I’d use.”

Gojo, oblivious to the subtleties, beamed. “She thinks we team!”

Both men were observing your wit.

“She’s interesting,” Nanami said lowly to Gojo in Japanese, his tone understated but firm.

Gojo grinned, his gaze lingering on the back of your head a few steps ahead. “Interesting doesn’t even cover it.”

They hadn't planned for this. The warm glow of overhead lights reflected off the rain-slick streets outside, adding a cozy intimacy to the atmosphere. You, Nanami, and Gojo were tucked into a booth near the window, the warmth seeping into your hands as you warmed them on the small portable heater near the table.

Nanami sat across from you while Gojo had wedged himself into the seat beside you, his energy a contrast to the café ’s tranquil ambiance.

“You seem... relaxed tonight,” Nanami observed, his voice calm but tinged with curiosity. His gaze flicked briefly to your flushed cheeks before settling back on your eyes.

“I’m in a good mood,” you replied, the mischief in your tone evident as you leaned back against the booth. “A productive day, good company, and now, a surprise reunion.”

Gojo perked up, resting his chin on his hand as he leaned in closer. “You like surprises?”

“Depends on the surprise,” you replied, a small smirk tugging at your lips as you met his gaze. “This one isn’t bad.”

Nanami cleared his throat, steering the conversation. “You mentioned good company earlier. Were you out with friends?”

“My CHRO,” you said casually, taking a sip of your drink.

Gojo frowned, his brows knitting together. “CH... R... O?”

Nanami sighed, his tone weary but patient. “Chief Human Resources Officer.”

“Oh!” Gojo’s face lit up like he’d just solved a riddle. “Office talk!”

You chuckled softly, your smile enigmatic. “Something like that. But enough about me. What about you two? What brings you out tonight?”

Gojo tilted his head toward Nanami, grinning. “Fate!”

Nanami groaned under his breath. “Don’t mind him. We were... exploring the city.”

Your raised eyebrow and faint smile told them you weren’t convinced, but you let it slide.

The server approached, her eyes lingering on Nanami and Gojo a moment too long as asking them, ignoring you. “What can I get you all tonight?”

You grinned, too tipsy to notice the slight snub. “Surprise me.”

Gojo continued looking at your smile subtly—which wasn’t very subtle to Nanami—his voice rude. “Same for me.” The server’s pettyness had not escaped his six eyes.

Nanami ordered black coffee, his tone clipped as usual. He wasn’t trying to be rude; people often misinterpreted his demeanor as arrogance or indifference. Well, the indifference part was true.

You stared at him in mock disbelief. “Black coffee? At this hour? You’re the most boring person I’ve ever met.” You didn’t really mind; hell, you chugged black coffee by the gallon on work nights; you just wanted to see how he’d react to teasing.

Nanami arched an eyebrow, his lips curving ever so slightly. “And yet, here you are.”

Damn, he was smooth.

Your laugh rang out, light and melodic, catching Gojo’s attention. His grin softened as he glanced at Nanami, something unspoken passing between them.

After some time, the three of you stood near the counter. The waitress smiled and handed over the bill with a smile directed solely at Nanami and Gojo. You, however, were laser-focused on the receipt, your eyes narrowing as you reached into your coat pocket.

“I’ve got this,” you said firmly, already pulling out your wallet. It’s not like you didn’t let people pay for you. Paying for you was a privilege they hadn’t earned yet. Men had a way of starting to expect things after spending even a little money, and you had learned that the hard way.

“Absolutely not,” Nanami countered, already pulling out his own wallet. His tone was calm, but the sharpness in his eyes screamed ‘ chivalry or death .’

“Wait, wait, wait!” Gojo interjected, his sunglasses slipping as he reached into his coat. “I got this! Sugar mommy powers activated!”

You blinked at him, momentarily thrown. “Gojo, you can’t be a sugar mommy. You’re a sugar baby at best.”

Gojo gasped, clutching his chest as if you’d mortally wounded him. “I’m offended! I’m both!”

Before you could respond, Nanami stepped between you two, his wallet already open. “Enough. This isn’t up for debate. I’ll handle it.”

You weren’t having it. “You think I can’t pay?” You challenged, stepping closer to Nanami like you were about to square up.

Nanami blinked, caught off guard. “This isn’t about capability. It’s about manners.”

“Oh, hell no , Nanami,” you snapped, whipping out your American Express Centurion Card like a weapon. The black card gleamed under the café lights as you waved it in his face. “You think I can’t pay? Watch me!”

Gojo, delighted, leaned toward Nanami and whispered in Japanese, “She’s challenging your honor, man.”

Nanami shot him a glare before turning back to you. “It’s courtesy.”

A mischievous grin tugged at your lips. “Then courteously let me pay.”

Gojo, now leaning dramatically over the counter, held up his own card—a flashy platinum piece that looked like it had seen better days. “Mine’s shinier!”

“Shut up, Gojo!” Both you and Nanami barked simultaneously.

Nanami placed his card on the counter, only for you to slap it away with a quick flick of your wrist. “Denied!”

Gojo cackled, tossing his card onto the counter like it was a poker chip. “Bet you can’t top this!”

You scoffed, “Oh, you wanna play? I brought backups.” Pulling your wallet open wider, revealing the JP Morgan Reserve Card, the Dubai First Royale MasterCard, and the Coutts World Silk Card nestled inside.

Gojo’s jaw dropped, his English breaking. “You... you have... many shinies !”

Nanami’s eye twitched as he reached for his card again, but you weren’t having it. “Stay in your lane, Mr. Black Coffee!”

“Don’t push me,” Nanami warned.

“I’ll will,” you shot back, your grin unhinged.

Finally, Gojo stepped back, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay, you win,” he said, nodding toward your Centurion Card. “Black card... scary.”

You smirked, triumphant. “Damn right.”

Nanami glared at Gojo and asked him in Japanese, “Don’t you have that card too?”

Gojo rubbed the back of his head and answered, “I do, but I forgot it in Japan.”

Nanami, however, was far from relenting. “This isn’t over,” he muttered, placing his Rakuten Bank Super Premium Card on top of yours with the quiet determination of a man who had never lost a battle of principles.

“Nanami,” you said, leaning closer, your tone deceptively sweet, eyelashes fluttering up at him, like you were asking for a puppy and not his honour, “are you really going to do this?”

“Yes,” he deadpaned.

“Fine.” You whispered in his ear, slightly closer, with your villainous energy directed at the wrong man. “But I will win.”

If Nanami was a weaker man, his resolve would have cracked.

Gojo, watching the scene unfold with stars in his eyes, clapped his hands together and yelled in Japanese. “This is the best date ever.”

Nanami was too busy not to get a hard on in public to glare at Gojo.

The poor cashier, overwhelmed, finally chose your card just to end the madness. You released Nanami with a victorious grin; your card already swiped.

“I told you,” you said smugly, slipping your wallet back into your coat pocket. Then took out your pen to sign.

Nanami sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re impossible.”

You laughed. “Don’t worry, Nanami. Next time, you can fight me for it. Winner pays.”

Gojo whispered loudly in Japanese. “She’s rich, Nanamin! Like, sugar mommy rich!” All his dreams of finding a fractos mother were coming true even though he was already rich.

Nanami groaned, his chivalry bruised but intact, ears red.

Gojo ignored him, turning to you with a wide grin. “You... pay for my snacks forever?”

You tilted your head, amused. “Why? Can’t you afford them?”

Nanami, sensing an opportunity, leaned toward Gojo and said in Japanese, “She asked if you’d like to pay her back by taking her trash out.”

Gojo’s grin faltered. “Trash?” he echoed, confused.

You chuckled, sensing the exchange but choosing not to pry. “Don’t worry, Gojo. I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to.”

Gojo’s grin returned in full force. “I love you!”

Nanami was grateful Gojo didn’t know English for ‘I love you’ yet, or you’d get a restraining order.

As the transaction completed, the two men subtly—or not so subtly—took stock of your outfit to try and assess how rich you were in order to conclude what you did for a living.

“Shoes,” Nanami whispered to Gojo in Japanese.

“Designer,” Gojo answered after a glance.

“Coat?”

“Custom.” Gojo replied, then asked, “Watch?”

“Limited edition.”

Gojo’s eyes sparkled as you turned back. “You... very stylish!” he declared in his adorable English, giving you a thumbs-up.

You raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Thank you, Gojo. You’re very observant.”

Nanami sighed. “You’re enabling him.”

“I think it’s endearing,” you replied with a soft laugh, your gaze briefly meeting Nanami’s. “Besides, you two are fun. And rare.”

Gojo turned to Nanami, grinning. “She said we’re rare! Like Pokémon!”

Nanami muttered something under his breath, but his ears were bright red now.

As the three of you stepped back into the rain-kissed streets, Gojo bounded ahead, clearly pleased with the outcome of the evening, while Nanami lingered at your side, his mind still piecing together the puzzle of who you really were.

“You’re quite mysterious,” Nanami remarked finally, his voice low enough that Gojo couldn’t hear.

You smiled knowingly. “And you’re quite perceptive.”

Nanami’s lips twitched into the faintest smile as Gojo spun around, his arms outstretched. The conversation shifted as the three of you continued walking, your strides falling into an easy rhythm.

You briefly caught Nanami’s gaze before glancing up at the night sky. “It’s a nice night, isn’t it? You can even see a few stars despite the city lights.”

Nanami followed your gaze. “Surprising, given the light pollution.”

Gojo squinted at the sky, then at you. “They pretty like you.”

Nanami’s eyes widened.

You laughed; the sound light and melodic. “Not quite; you are the star.” You paused, thinking, then continued. “Like our sun—bright, strong, impossible to miss. You keep things alive, but you burn so intensely that it’s hard for people to get close enough to truly understand you.”

Gojo’s grin faltered, something unreadable flickering in his expression. “Sun... me?”

You nodded, turning to Nanami. “And you... you’re like a lighthouse. Constant, steady, always guiding. People only notice when they need you, but you’re always there, no matter what.”

Nanami stiffened, his stoicism betraying a hint of vulnerability. “You have a way with metaphors.”

You smiled, shrugging. “Maybe I’m drunk. Or maybe I’m just observant.”

Gojo perked up. “You ultraviolet rays.”

You looked at him, speechless.

Nanami smacked his head. “That’s rude.”

Gojo rubbed the back of his head and explained in Japanese, “What? It provides vitamin D synthesis, photosynthesis, and regulation of biological rhythms. She is smart and strong. Tell her in English.”

Nanami sighed and translated as you blushed, glancing at Gojo, who looked particularly proud of himself.

But Nanami wouldn’t back down easily. “I think you are like the North Star; you provide direction and clarity to those around you. Constant in the night sky, you are reliable. Most people might not notice you for your worth, but your influence is profound, much like how your contributions, though sometimes invisible, are vital and impactful.”

You hid your face in your collar, turning away as you walked, your blush deepening.

“So,” you asked, breaking the awkward silence after a beat, “what’s your favorite food?”

“He likes sandwiches, and I love sweets!” Gojo exclaimed immediately, his enthusiasm palpable.

You grinned. “Me too. In reasonable quantities.”

Nanami exhaled faintly. "Oh, thank God.”

You ignored his quip, focusing back on Gojo. “Do you like dark chocolate?”

Gojo nodded fervently. “Yes! With... strawberries!” Nanami hummed in agreement as well.

“Good taste,” you said approvingly. “But since you like sweets, I think you’d enjoy something from my country. It’s warm, soft, and melts in your mouth. Perfect for a night like this.”

Gojo’s eyes lit up. “I want! You make?”

Nanami tensed at Gojo’s words. “Please forgive him; he’s too enthusiastic.”

You tilted your head, studying Gojo while waving away Nanami's concerns with your hand. “Maybe. But first, lower your Infinity.” Then turned to Nanami and added, “And your ratio thing.”

Nanami’s brows shot up. “That’s a strange request.”

Gojo hesitated, glancing between you and Nanami. “Why?”

You shrugged, a teasing glint in your eyes. “Because I asked nicely.”

Gojo huffed, muttering something in Japanese that sounded suspiciously like “fine,” before lowering his Infinity.

Without warning, you lunged, fingers digging into his sides as you tickled him mercilessly. Halfway through, you felt his hard muscles—he looked built, like a well-defined wall.

“W-what?!” Gojo shrieked, laughter bubbling uncontrollably as he tried to fend you off. “Stop! Evil lady!”

You stepped back, smirking. “I wasn’t expecting you to agree so easily. You trusted me so adorably—I couldn’t resist. Consider this a free lession.” You laughed, then your tone softened. “But really, I wanted to touch your hand. I wanted to know how your skin feels.”

Gojo blinked, his laughter fading as his cheeks flush. Nanami was trying to hide his face.

You extended your hand to both men. “Come on. If you’re interested, I’ll make you that sweet. It’s worth the walk.”

Nanami sighed. “Are you sure? We don’t want to impose; it’s pretty late.”

You smiled and nodded.

Both men immediately offered their hands to you.

These two would go to war for you—just for your smile, no hesitation.

By the time you reached your place, the warmth of the alcohol had faded, leaving you pleasantly sleepy.

“You two are coming in,” you declared, unlocking the door.

Nanami frowned. “That’s not necessary—”

“It’s cold,” you interrupted, pushing the door open. “And I’m making sweets. Come in or stay out, your choice.”

Gojo practically dragged Nanami inside, kicking off his shoes with a grin.

The warmth of your penthouse greeted you as you led them inside, shedding your coat. The men had noticed the extreme security while entering your building, and your place looked expensive, leading them to deduce you were more than averagely wealthy.

“Make yourselves comfortable,” you said, heading toward the kitchen.

Gojo immediately flopped onto your couch, poking at the cushions, while Nanami stood awkwardly near the door, his posture still composed.

“Do you always invite strangers into your home?” Nanami asked, his tone laced with mild disapproval.

“Only the ones who lower their Infinity and that cutting thing for me,” you replied with a grin.

Nanami sighed but his lips twitched, hinting at a smile. “It’s called ratio blades.”

You nodded, washed your hands and began preparing the syrup and dough.

As you worked, Gojo wandered around your living room, poking at your figurines—most of them from your own company’s games—and photos. “Cats! So many cats!”

“I like cats,” you said simply, rolling the dough into perfect spheres.

Nanami joined Gojo, his gaze landing on a framed self-portrait you had taken a long time ago. “Did you take all these?”

You nodded. “Photography’s my thing. Cats are my favorite subjects.”

Their attention shifted to a large portrait of you and Megumi from an event. He stood stiffly looking at you while you smiled at the camera, his parents in the background. Gojo scowled at Toji’s face.

The smell of caramelized sugar filled the air as you carried a tray of warm, syrup-soaked sweets to the table, and Gojo immediately forgot about Toji.

"Careful, it’s hot,” you warned, placing the tray on the coffee table. The men took a seat on the couch opposite you.

Gojo’s eyes sparkled as he picked one up, blowing on it before taking his first bite. A soft hum of delight escaped him. “This is heaven. Marry me!” He exclaimed in Japanese.

Still Nanami choked, shooting Gojo a glare. He took his time with his dessert, his expression softening with each bite. “You weren’t exaggerating. This is excellent; he likes it too.”

You leaned back with one for yourself, watching them with a small smile as you chewed your own. “Glad you like it.”

The three of you sat in companionable silence, the warmth of the room and the dessert lulling you into a state of drowsy contentment.

Without much thought, you curled up on the couch across from them, yawning and closing your eyes, unintentionally dozing off with two strangers in your house.

“She’s like a cat,” Gojo murmured in Japanese, his voice softer than usual.

Nanami studied you. “A very drunk cat.”

“But she can hold her liquor.”

“Except for turning into a frat bro dying to fight people.” Nanami deadpaned, making Gojo chuckle.

They sat in silence for a while, the only sound being the soft hum of the heater as you completely dozed off.

Gojo broke the silence first, still speaking softly in Japanese. “Hey, Nanamin. Think she likes us?”

Nanami glanced at him. “Us?”

Gojo shrugged, his grin a little softer. “You know. Like... us us.”

Nanami sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t plan for this.”

“Neither did I,” Gojo admitted. “But... I don’t hate it.”

Nanami glanced at Gojo, then back at you. “Neither do I.”

“Let’s see where this goes,” Gojo said softly.

Nanami nodded, his usual frown easing.

Just then, your phone rang loudly, startling you awake. You apologized to the men, "Sorry, I dozed off. It’s been a long day.” They smiled, still shoving sweets into their mouths occasionally—well, mostly Gojo.

You fished your phone from your pocket, accidentally cutting the call. Rubbing your eyes, you opened it to find:

Gumi: I thought I told you to stay away from those two?!

Gumi: Why did you invite them to your place?!

Gumi: I’m coming over, and if I find them there, I’ll kill them!

Gumi: Why the fuck are you cutting my calls?!

Gumi: I swear I’m beheading them.

You immediately stood up, startled. “You need to go!”

The men looked at you, confused.

“I can’t explain! Just please go right now!” Panic surged through you, serious enough to pull you out of your drunken sleepy haze. They put the sweets down and got up to leave, but you yelled again, “Not from the front door!”

Nanami groaned as you practically pushed him and Gojo through the back door and slammed the door into their faces.

Just then they realized something.

They still didn't really know anything about you except that you were observant, made them sweets and would fight to pay for others.

The silence that followed after you slammed the back door was short-lived. You took a deep breath, your heart pounding, as you tried to regain your composure. The faint sound of the heater humming did little to ease the tension building in the room.

A knock on the front door shattered the calm. It wasn’t a polite knock—it was authoritative, demanding.

You sighed, muttering under your breath, “God help me...”

You barely had time to brace yourself before the door swung open with a force that sent it rebounding slightly on its hinges.

Megumi stood in the doorway, his tailored suit pristine, but his face was anything but composed. His piercing blue eyes scanned the room like a predator assessing its territory, his jaw clenched so tightly you swore you heard his teeth grinding.

His gaze landed on you first, narrowing as he took in the faint flush on your cheeks and the slightly disheveled state of your hair. “You’ve been drinking,” he said flatly, the accusation sharp.

His gaze swept the room like a hawk, narrowing when he spotted the faint remnants of the sweets you’d shared with Gojo and Nanami.

You crossed your arms, meeting his glare with a raised eyebrow. “Good evening to you too, Megumi.”

“Don’t start,” he snapped, stepping into your living room. The air seemed to chill slightly as he moved closer, his presence both imposing and familiar.

The faint scent of alcohol clearly irritated him further. “You smell like a distillery. And there are cursed energy signatures everywhere. They were here, weren’t they?”

Your stomach twisted as his words hung in the air. He wasn’t asking; he was stating a fact.

“I drank earlier, but not with them. And yes, they were here,” you admitted, leaning casually against the back of the couch. “And they left.”

Megumi’s eyes darkened, his frame tense as he stalked further into the room. His presence felt heavier than usual, the weight of his restrained fury palpable. “I told you to stay away from them,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous.

“You did,” you replied calmly, meeting his glare without flinching. “But I don’t recall signing a contract.”

His voice was quieter now but no less intense. “What were they doing here?”

“Eating sweets,” you replied simply as if his looming figure didn’t faze you.

Megumi’s jaw tightened. “You’re joking.”

“Not at all. They’re big fans of dessert,” you said with a faint smirk, your nonchalance clearly irritating him further.

“Do you have any idea who they are?” He demanded, his voice rising slightly.

“Two sorcerers who are surprisingly bad at hiding their curiosity,” you replied, your tone calm.

Megumi’s lips pressed into a thin line as his gaze swept the room. Without warning, he moved past you, scanning every corner with the precision of someone who missed nothing.

“Gumi,” you said, following him as he moved toward the kitchen. “They’re gone. I’m fine.”

He ignored you, his eyes scanning the area as if expecting to find Gojo or Nanami hiding behind the fridge.

When he turned back to you, his expression was a mix of frustration and something deeper—something protective. “You don’t understand what they’re capable of,” he said, his tone clipped. “You’re not a sorcerer. You can’t handle this.”

“I’m not helpless,” you countered, crossing your arms. “And I don’t need you babysitting me.”

His fists clenched at his sides, his shoulders taut with barely restrained anger. “You think this is about babysitting? You’re the only person I care about besides Mom,” he bit out, his voice cracking slightly. “Do you know how easy it would be for them to hurt you?”

“They’re not going to hurt me, Megumi,” you said, your voice softening.

He scoffed, his frustration spilling over. “You don’t know that. They’re sorcerers. They live in a world where people like you—people without cursed energy—are collateral damage.”

You stepped closer, your tone steady but firm. “And your father lived in a world where he killed innocent people, Megumi. Including that girl.”

The words hit like thunder, and for a moment, the room was silent. Megumi’s jaw tightened, his eyes flashing with a mix of pain and anger.

“That doesn’t mean that white-haired freak gets a free pass,” he said finally, his voice low.

“No, it doesn’t,” you agreed, your gaze unwavering. “But it also doesn’t mean you get to project your anger onto me.”

“They’re dangerous,” he hissed, taking another step forward. “Especially him.”

You tilted your head, your gaze steady. “Gojo? He seems harmless enough when he’s not shoving sweets into his mouth.”

Megumi’s fists clenched at his sides. “Harmless? He killed my father.”

You flinched at the reminder, guilt creeping into your chest.

Megumi’s hands flexed at his sides; he calmed down his breathing immediately, eyes softening. “You don’t get it,” he said, his voice rough. “I can’t lose you too.”

“You’re not going to lose me,” you said gently, placing a hand on his arm.

He stiffened at the contact, his gaze dropping to your hand before meeting your eyes. For a moment, his anger seemed to waver, replaced by something raw and vulnerable.

“I can’t protect you if you won’t listen to me,” he said, his tone quieter now but no less intense.

“You’ve always protected me, Gumi,” you said softly. “But I need you to trust me too.”

He let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re overbearing,” you replied with a small smile.

After another tense moment, Megumi’s posture relaxed slightly. He looked around the room one last time, his eyes lingering on the remnants of the desserts you’d shared with Gojo and Nanami.

“They’re idiots,” he muttered.

You chuckled. “Agreed.”

“I’m increasing security around your building,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You rolled your eyes but didn’t protest. “Fine. But only if I still get to pet your shikigamis.”

His lips twitched, the faintest hint of a smile breaking through his frustration. “Deal.”

“Next time, call me first.”

“Noted.”

"Come, mom asked you to stay over for the weekend; let’s go.” He said, extending his arm with a faint twitch of a smile on his lips.

“Oh great. I haven’t seen her in a few weeks.” You followed him.

Before closing the door, Megumi looked directly at a particular window in your penthouse.

As you both left, the tension in the room finally eased.

From the shadows outside, Gojo and Nanami peeked around the corner, their expressions a mix of curiosity and disbelief.

“He’s scary,” Gojo whispered in Japanese.

“He knew we were here; he could have fought.” Nanami thought out loud.

Gojo then added sagely. “But also... she’s kind of hot?”

Nanami sighed.

“Do you think she’s single?” Gojo mused as Nanami dragged him away.

---

Many Years Ago

It was a warm afternoon, the kind where the sunlight filtered through the trees and painted the grass in dappled patterns. You sat on a park bench, your knees pulled to your chest as you tried to block out the world. The faint sound of children laughing reached your ears, but it felt distant, like it belonged to another reality.

“Hey.”

The voice was small, hesitant. You looked up to see a little boy with dark, spiky hair and eyes that seemed far too knowing for someone his age.

“You’re sitting here alone,” he said matter-of-factly, his head tilting slightly. “Why?”

You hesitated, unsure how to respond. “I just... like the quiet.”

The boy frowned, his brows knitting together. “You’re sad.”

Before you could deny it, another voice interrupted. “Megumi, don’t bother strangers.”

You looked up to see a tall man approaching, his broad shoulders and confident stride impossible to miss. His piercing eyes softened slightly when they landed on you.

“Sorry about him,” the man said, ruffling the boy’s hair. “He’s too nosy for his own good.”

“It’s okay,” you said quietly.

The man studied you for a moment, his gaze lingering on the bruises peeking out from beneath your sleeves. His expression darkened, but his tone remained calm. “Where are your parents?”

“They’re around,” you said quietly, looking away.

The boy—Megumi—plopped down on the bench beside you, completely unfazed. “You don’t like them, do you?”

“Megumi,” the man said warningly, but you shook your head.

“It’s fine,” you murmured. “He’s right. I don’t. They wanted a boy; I came out a girl.”

The man’s fists tightened hard enough that you heard a faint crack, then he crouched down, his gaze level with yours. “Listen, kid,” he said, his voice low but firm. “You don’t have to stay in places that hurt you. You know that, right?”

Your throat tightened, and you nodded, tears stinging your eyes.

From that day on, Toji Fushiguro became a constant in your life. He didn’t say much, but he showed up when it mattered—bringing food, letting you crash on his couch when things got too rough at home, and always making sure you knew you had someone in your corner.

Megumi tagged along wherever you went and was always watching out for you in his quiet, observant way. His sharp wit and occasional bursts of kindness became a source of unexpected comfort.

You felt a sense of belonging, a family forged through shared struggles and unspoken bonds. But when you learned of Toji’s death, the loss hit you hard. It was a wound that ran deep, leaving a lasting impact on Megumi, who never truly recovered from it.

And when you cut contact with your family after a particularly horrible night at eighteen, Megumi’s mom helped you get on your feet, offering support until you could stand on your own.

For a while, it felt like you’d found a family.

---

// Playlist

Before you left to get married

This was supposed to be a moment of excitement—a new chapter—but instead, it was tainted by the look in Megumi’s eyes.

The terminal was too bright, too sterile. Every sound—footsteps, muffled announcements, the scrape of luggage wheels—echoed like a dull ache in your head. You stood by the departure gate, clutching your boarding pass, trying to steady your breathing. You had said goodbye to Megumi’s mom, but Megumi had disappeared since the day you told him you’d accepted the proposal to get married to your husbands. He didn’t pick up calls, didn’t respond to texts, and wasn’t at his office or at home. You wanted to say goodbye before you left, make amends so that he visited you for both your and his life's major occasions, or without reasons. You didn’t go out of your way to hurt him, but you hated yourself for it. He was right to have expected something of you when all those years ago his father had been nothing but kind towards you.

Then the storm came.

“Leaving just like that?”

The voice froze you in place, laced with a hurt you hadn’t anticipated. Turning slowly, you met Megumi’s gaze. His 20-something frame was taller, broader like his father, than the boy you’d met all those years ago—a sharp-edged man you’d always known he’d become. He looked disheveled, as if he had been drinking; his coat and tie were absent, his sleeves rolled up, and a few top buttons of his shirt were undone. But his eyes... his eyes still held the same piercing clarity, now clouded with betrayal.

You swallowed hard. “Megumi—”

“Don’t.” His voice cut through the distance between you, and you flinched. “Don’t start with excuses.”

“I’m not making excuses,” you said softly. “I’m doing what I have to do.”

"What do you have to do?” He laughed bitterly, running a hand through his spiky hair. “You’re leaving everything—everyone—for them. You’re marrying the man who killed my father. And the other one, who just stood by and let it all happen.”

The words hit harder than you’d expected, slicing through the fragile composure you’d been clinging to. “That’s not fair,” you tried, your voice trembling. “You know it’s not that simple.” You stepped towards him.

“Then what is it like?” he snapped, stepping away. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’ve chosen them over everything else. Over me. I thought you were better than this. I thought you cared about me.”

“You’re my best friend, Megumi. You always will be,” you insisted, your throat tightening. “I do care about you.”

“Do you? You are moving to a whole other country for them! Do you even know the language properly?” His voice cracked, and for a moment, he looked like the boy you’d met in the park all those years ago.

Tears welled in your eyes. “I’m not leaving you, Megumi.”

“Yes, you are.” His tone was flat now, his expression hardening like a wall slamming shut. “You’ve already made your choice, and it’s not me.”

“I’m not doing this to hurt you,” you said, your voice barely audible.

He scoffed, the hurt radiating off him in waves. “Doesn’t feel like it.” He sighed, looking away from you, and continued, “You’ve made your choice, and it’s not me. So, go ahead. Leave. But don’t expect me to be waiting when you come back. The next time I see you, it’ll be at your funeral.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. Tears pricked your eyes, but you forced yourself to stay composed. “I’m sorry you feel that way,” you said quietly. “But I hope one day you’ll be able to forgive me.”

He turned away sharply, his shoulders tense. “Don’t count on it.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and final. You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. He strode away without a backward glance.

You stood there, the sounds of the terminal fading into a dull hum, your heart splintering under the weight of his parting words.

Nanami came to you and held you close while Gojo took care of the luggage.

---

Present day

The sea stretched endlessly before you, the waves lapping softly against the shore under the dim light of a waning moon. You sat on the edge of the wooden dock, legs dangling over the side, your hands resting limply in your lap. The salt in the air clung to your skin, but you barely noticed. Your eyes, glassy and unfocused, stared at the horizon, seeing nothing but the fractured pieces of a life that had slipped through your fingers.

The memory of Megumi’s words cut through the silence, a cruel echo of a bond you thought unbreakable.

"The next time I see you, it’ll be at your funeral."

You swallowed hard, the phantom weight of those words pressing against your chest. You’d believed so fiercely that he’d understand one day at the time and shared history would bridge the chasm your choices had created.

But you were wrong. He was right.

Your fingers tightened into fists as the guilt churned inside you. He had tried to warn you and begged you to stay away from the men who had dismantled your life piece by piece. And yet, you had brushed him off, convinced of your own strength and autonomy. You had taken his trust, his family’s kindness, and burned it in the fires of your hubris.

When your HQ in Japan was nearly razed and your life reduced to ashes, it wasn’t the men who betrayed you that haunted your thoughts—it was Megumi. You had been too ashamed to call him yourself, delegating the task to an employee with shaking hands. Yet, despite everything, he had come through.

His company’s security solutions had locked down your global offices in a matter of hours, protecting millions of lives. He didn’t ask for thanks, didn’t even reach out to you directly. It was as though he’d swept in like a ghost, solving the problem before vanishing back into the shadows of your shared past.

And still, you couldn’t bring yourself to reach out. What could you say? That he’d been right all along? That you missed him? That the absence of his sarcastic remarks and overprotective nature felt like a gaping hole in your already fractured soul?

You wondered if he thought about you at all. Did he have friends now? Or had he become like you—an isolated workaholic, buried under the weight of responsibility and regret?

Behind you, Sukuna sat silently on the dock, leaning back on his palms. He hadn’t said much since dragging you here, content to let the waves and the stars speak for themselves. He was steady, an immovable force in your crumbling world.

Sukuna sighed, his fingers drumming against the wood. “Still thinking about them?”

Them. Your twins. The children you’d lost.

“They are still yours,” he had told you, the words a faint echo now, lost in the cavern of your grief. They didn’t heal you, but they lingered, a reminder that some part of you had existed in them, however fleetingly.

The nightmares came every night. You didn’t tell Sukuna, but you didn’t need to. He was always there when you woke up drenched in sweat. His strong arms would pull you close, his voice steady and grounding.

“They’re gone,” he would say, the words harsh but real. “They’re not coming back. I’ll kill them if they do.”

You never asked who he meant. You didn’t care.

The therapy sessions were supposed to help. Sukuna drove you to every appointment, his presence looming in the background like a silent guardian. He never asked you how they went, never pressed for details. He just waited, scrolling through his phone or staring out the window until you returned.

But the numbness refused to leave. It clung to you like a second skin. You hadn’t spoken to Sukuna in months, not really. Your words had dwindled into hollow gestures—a nod, a faint smile, a muttered “thanks.”

He never complained. He just stayed.

Now, sitting on the dock with the sea stretching endlessly before you, Sukuna shifted closer. His knee brushed yours, a subtle reminder of his presence.

“You ever gonna talk again?” He asked, his tone light but probing.

Your lips parted, but no words came. You couldn’t bring yourself to speak, to admit that you missed someone else’s presence just as much as his.

Megumi’s face flashed in your mind—his eyes, his cutting words, the way he always seemed to know what you needed before you did.

Sukuna’s gaze flicked to you, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Who’s on your mind?”

You turned your head slightly, meeting his gaze for the first time in hours. “No one,” you lied, your voice hoarse from disuse.

He didn’t push, but the slight tightening of his jaw told you he didn’t believe you.

The stars above reflected faintly in the dark water, their light distant and cold. You wondered if Megumi ever looked at the stars and thought of you, or if you were as distant to him now as they were to the earth.

A/N: And that’s the emotional rollercoaster for today, folks! 🎢 How did you guys feel about Megumi and the airport scene. Drop your votes, share your feels, and get ready for the next chapter—it’s gonna be sending y'all to therapy.

Next Chapter 8 (alt ending 1.4) - Fractured Tides (Tumblr/Ao3)

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j0hnpr1c3sm1ssus · 4 months ago

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FICMAS - DAY 5 - ICE SKATING

Title: John Can't Skate

Synopsis: Taking John, your older boyfriend, ice skating turns out really nice.

Warnings: This is a MAJOR age gap fic. He's literally in his fifties--like twice your age in this. So uh... if that triggers anything for you you probably shouldn't read this?

AN: aghh I love writing fluff with John. This isn't exactly Christmas themed but I think it works?

John *knows* he's too old for you.

He's old enough to be your bloody father, after all. He's pushing a healthy mid-50s, and you're what.. 24? You're still so young and trying so many things, and of course you're inviting John, you love him, you want to experience things with him.

Christmas shopping? He can do that in spades. Christmas movies? Hell yeah, sit beside you and rub your thigh the entire time. But ice skating? You're kidding. He'll break his ankle, birdie!

But now he's here, lacing on those devilish skates, clearly not ready. "Lovie..." He grumbles, struggling to stand up once they're on. You bark out a laugh, helping him stand.

"You're gonna fall on your ass... You need to stand like *this,*" you point out, fixing your feet to show him how to stand. He huffs, copying your movements but still holding onto your upper arms like a lifeline.

You guide him out to the ice, your first steps are graceful, and his are... Well... He nearly falls but his death grip on the guide rails on the wall keep him upright.

It's almost adorable, watching him learn, you occasionally give him tips and teach him little things.

By the first thirty minutes he has an arm wrapped around your waist--someone looked at his birdie too long, of course--and he's only like a drunk baby deer on the ice.

"Cannot *believe* I let this shit 'appen," he grumbles to himself, holding onto you as you both circle around the rink slowly.

"John.. it's adorable. We look so cute!" You say, pulling out your phone.

You reach a hand to grab your phone, but you slip a little. He grabs your waist instead, causing you both to dip, his face a breath from yours. He spins you both, trying to keep you both up, you're gasping at every second.

He laughs, "Gettin' the 'ang of it, huh, birdie?"

You nod, whooping out a little, letting yourself get swung and danced with. He chuckles, grinning at your joy. He feels your hand move up to his shoulder, your hands intertwined.

He guides you both--an odd change, really--through the groups of couples and children and singles skating, dancing with you.

Once your two hours is up, you guide him off the rink and help him out his skates.

"Canno' believe I did tha', dovie," he mumbles, unlacing his skates and then helping you out yours.

Once your skates are returned and you both leave for his car, John's hand is on the small of your back.

"Now let's go and *relax.* Tha' was a bloody nightmare," he grumbles, holding onto you loosely.

You chuckle and nod, wrapping an arm around his shoulder, "Yeah... Let's go home."

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queenshelby · 9 months ago

Text

Our Little Secret (Part 65)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Infidelity, Age-Gap, Triggers, Smut

The following morning, Cillian had to get up early again for the filming and you decided to spend a day in town with Mara, leaving early as well.

On your way to the local tram station, you swung by the local coffee shop to get a drink and a croissant, and this is when you saw her again, Annabelle, walking into the shop with another woman in tow, chatting away happily.

"I honestly do not know what Cillian even sees in her. She is so bland and too young to have any kind of experience, you know," she was saying, not noticing your presence in the corner.

"But they had a kid together, Belle. So, no matter what, she will stick around even if you get your chance with him," the other woman replied, rolling her eyes.

Your grip on your coffee cup tightened, the heat making the ceramic burn your hand as you listened in on their conversation. But it wasn't just the words that pierced through you, but the way she said them. It was disrespectful and you were worried about her intentions.

"I honestly think that he is just keeps her around because of the kid. There is no way that he would actually be in love with her," Annabelle retorted back, not noticing the blush on your cheeks from the nearby corner whish is when, finally, the barista called out to Annabelle, letting her know that her coffee was ready.

As she picked up her coffee from the counter, she noticed your presence out of the corner of her eye and she smiled curtly at you.

"Hey, good morning, Y/N," she said in passing, heading out of the coffee shop before you could even respond. "Big day on set today," she cheered on, and you let out a huff of frustration, feeling a cold dread settling at the pit of your stomach.

"That's bullshit," you muttered under your breath. A flicker of annoyance flashed across your face, and you did what you would usually do in an instance like this. You called your best friend Emma and asked her for advice after telling her that, just last night, Cillian and you rekindled your romance before mentioning Annabelle and her antics.

"Oh, I knew it! I knew you would get back together," Emma exclaimed, her voice vibrating with excitement on the other end of the phone call. "This is exactly what you needed!" she added, her tone warm and comforting.

"I suppose it is," you confirmed, still stewing over the encounter with Annabelle. "But then why on earth am I so goddamn jealous all of a sudden."

"Because he did cheat and because there are rumors about them, so I would say it is understandable," Emma reasoned and you kept on vending.

"I suppose you are right," you said again before taking a quick pause and then continuing. "She's so fucking unbearable though, Em and I cannot just stand for it," you sighed as you paced around your newly shared home. "I mean, I know I can't control who Cillian films with, and I won't be making a scene, but she just seems so manipulative and insincere, it worries me."

"I know Y/N," Emma said, her voice coming through the phone loud and clear. "And here is what you are going to do," she added, her voice brimming with determination. "You are going to call Cillian to see whether he could show you and Mara around on set today and when he does, you will mark your territory," Emma emphasized, her voice just a little louder with every word. "Make yourself known as his girlfriend. Give him a little PDA and a big passionate kiss, right in front of her," Emma said, and you could almost imagine her wagging her finger at you.

You couldn't help but laugh at her fierce tone. "Oh god, I am not this kind of girlfriend, Em. Cillian would know something is up if I did that," you replied, a little worried about the plan Emma just proposed to you.

"Well, you either do that or you confront her at his workplace and make a huge scene. Because you are not going to let her disrespect you like that, are you?" Emma's tone was stern and even a little disappointed in you for not sticking up for yourself.

"Alright. Okay. You are right. I will stick up for myself," you confirmed, taking a deep breath to calm your nerves. "I will call Cillian and ask him about the set visit, and then I will make sure that Annabelle gets the hint."

"Good for you! And if she tries to be rude again, just tell Cillian. He can sort it out," Emma offered helpfully, and you knew she was right.

After hanging up the phone, you took a moment to gather your thoughts before dialing Cillian's number. He picked up after the second ring, sounding a little groggy, probably because he didn't get much sleep last night as you had a lot of intimate catching up to do.

"Hey, it's me. I know you are busy, but I was wondering if maybe Mara and I could come by the set later and visit," you asked hopefully, crossing your fingers as you waited for his response.

"I would love for you and Mara to visit," Cillian said, sounding genuinely happy. "But I think this morning's schedule is really packed, especially since we are reshooting a few scenes. So, how about lunch? I have break around one I think and then I've got about an hour to show you around," he said, his voice warm and inviting.

"Awesome. I will be there at one , then," you replied, already feeling a bit of excitement bubbling in your chest at the idea of seeing Cillian in his work environment, as well as the prospect of seeing Annabelle's reaction when you show up. You knew it was a little petty, but you could not help it. You needed her to see her place and being there would clearly send the right message.

When you arrived at just before one o'clock that day, the set was bustling with activity, but Cillian was true to his word.

At exactly one o'clock, he met you and Mara in front of the soundstage, looking every bit the leading man he was.

"Dada," Mara cried out, beaming up at him as she walked towards him and Cillian swept her up into his arms, planting a kiss on her cheek.

"There's my little angel," he said, grinning broadly before giving her a kiss and walking towards you, carrying her at the same time.

"Hi," you smiled at him shyly and he wasted no time to approach you and press a lingering kiss to your lips, making you blush at the public display of affection.

"Come on, I will show you around," Cillian said with a wink, taking you and Mara on a tour of the set. As you walked through the bustling area, Cillian greeted the cast and crew with ease, showing you the different sets and introducing you to a few of his colleagues whom you have not met yet.

You couldn't help but be in awe of the whole process, watching as the cameras rolled and scenes were shot.

"This is so weird. All those people and cameras," you turned to Cillian with a surprised expression on your face, shaking your head slightly.

"I know, right?" Cillian chuckled. "I don't think I will ever get used to it," he told you just before you ran into Cillian assistant, Lindsay, whom you knew very well.

"Ah Mara is here," she said excitedly, bending down to give Mara a kiss on the cheek. "Is your dad giving you and Gigi a tour? That must be pretty boring, huh?" Lindsay asked, smiling wryly at Mara before turning to Cillian. "Do you want me to take her for half an hour so you can show Y/N around properly? We could hang in the staff room and have some cake and maybe play with Gigi?" Lindsay asked, gesturing towards a building in the distance.

Cillian looked at you for confirmation, and you nodded your approval. "That sounds great," you said, smiling gratefully at Lindsay before thanking her for her generous offer.

"Alright then Mara, let's go huh," she said, as she held out her hand to Mara, who took it without hesitation. "We'll bring cake for you too, Y/N," she called out over her shoulder as they walked away.

Cillian chuckled and turned to you with a grin. "Lindsay adores her," he told you, seeing how, even when you were not together, you kept in touch with his assistant and she even attended Mara's birthday party with a present.

"She sure does," you agreed, watching as Lindsay and Mara disappeared into the crowd of staff before turning back to Cillian. "Shall we then?" you asked, raising your eyebrow and taking his hand, letting him know that you were ready to proceed with the tour, and maybe even cause a little drama while you were at it.

As you walked through the set together, you soon ran into the person you were hoping to see, namely Annabelle . She was chatting with a colleague, but as soon as she noticed you and Cillian approaching, she stopped talking and looked at you with narrowed eyes.

She noticed right away that you and Cillian were holding hands, which was new to her seeing how, until last night, you were still separated .

Annabelle's gaze lingered on your joined hands for a little too long, and this made you feel more powerful than ever.

You couldn't help but smile at her as you walked past her, your grip on Cillian's hand tightening slightly.

Cillian seemed to notice the tension between the two of you, and he made a point of leaning in closer to you, his free arm wrapping around your waist as he whispered in your ear, "Why are you so jealous?"

You shrugged and looked up at him. "I don't know. I guess because I just don't trust her," you replied quietly, not wanting to admit the real reason why you were feeling so jittery, namely because of what you had overheard this morning.

"But you need to trust me and the only woman I want is you,"

Cillian replied, his tone sincere and earnest as he looked into your eyes, trying to get you to understand the seriousness of what he was saying.

"I know, I know. I just can't help it," you admitted, giving him a small smile, grateful that he understood where you were coming from.

You walked a bit further together, Cillian pointing out different things around the set, before you found yourselves walking towards Annabelle again.

She was now standing alone, looking at the both of you with daggers in her eyes.

"Steven wants to reshoot at two," she simply told him, ignoring your presence for the moment as she looked at the schedule on her phone.

Cillian nodded, looking at his own schedule before nodding in agreement. "This means we still have half an hour and a bit," he told you. "Is there something else you wanted to see before we grab Mara from the staff room?"

Cillian asked, looking at you with a faint smile. You couldn't help but appreciate how patient and understanding he was being, given the circumstances. Instead of getting angry or dismissive about your jealousy, he was doing his best to alleviate your fears and reassure you of his devotion.

"Actually, yes, do you have a trailer?" you asked. "I know that most actors have them and I was always rather curious about what's inside," you stated, making your intentions clear and while Annabelle got the hint, Cillian certainly did not.

"I do, but it's nothing special. It's just, well, a trailer," Cillian chuckled, oblivious to what you were suggesting.

"Show me," you prompted him nonetheless , a cheeky smile playing on your lips.

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@sunbeamseas @saint-ackerman @oatmealisweird @naxxsstuff @amanda08319 @r-m-cidnah @elysiannook @cillshot @infireddabdab @tastycakee @harrysbestiee @lilybabe22 @adalynlowell @henrywintersdearestgirl @ietss @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @ryiamarie @axionn

@nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts @blondie-22

@galxydefender @hunnibearrr @saint-ackerman @lunyyx @gentlemonsterjennie1 @ihavealotoffandomssorry @nadloves @lost-fantasy @nolucesn@mcavoy-girl @hjmalmed @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @blushykiss @tatumrileyslover @teawithsatanx @orijanko @rhaenyra4ever @xcinnamonmalfoyx @budugu @nadloves @kmc1989 @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @forgottenpeakywriter @smailaway @sophiaaguirred @blondie-22

#cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy

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tenderhungering · 1 year ago

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veep headcanons? :3

oh this will take a WHILE……i love veep so much. i’m about to wrap up season 6 right now ! i think i’ll do little headcannons / analysis for each character ! i might do a part 2 because i want to also do some more supporting characters. like you know damn well im gonna wanna write for catherine and marjorie as a whole,,,

Selina

named catherine “catherine” like her mother in order to be able to yell said name in anger the way she never could yell back at her mother

the severe mommy issues make her need every single one of her staff to be emotionally involved in her. if she isn’t the center of their life, she gets anxious about it, even angry. she needs to be validated

depends heavily on spellcheck,,, i just think she hates phones for some reason.

she can tell EXACTLY how someone is feeling by making it up in her head and believing it ❤️

got arrested once in her youth and it was wiped off the record. #supportwomen’swrongs

Amy

would do super super well taking up something that makes her adrenaline pump. they keep trying to get her to relax by making her get massages, meditate and be in quiet. she needs NOISE. she should be allowed to beat someone up at least once a day

had a little gray cat whenever she was younger. she likes them ! they’re similar to how she is whenever it comes to boundaries.

bisexual but she has a stressful job so she doesn’t have time to think about that rn

she would benefit from me in her life actually

actually really liked dan bc dan seems to personalize the relationship to the person (dan is so kind ❤️) so she was into him but suddenly got the ick.

Dan

trigger warning for SA and grooming: i think dan’s relationship with sex is so affected by the fact he slept with his teacher whenever he was younger in exchange for a good grade. it has made him view it was an exchange, a transactional affair. it’s why he’s so shit at intimacy, he doesn’t see to get anything out of it.

watches all the latest movies but it’s only because he keeps taking women out to go see them:

has a really sensitive stomach,,,,he says it’s something he ate but i feel like whenever he gets anxious it happens to

catholic guilt galore but he’s busy so he CANNOT get into it

he’s so the type of boyfriend who does baby talk and when he’s recorded he gets real mad about it. get that camera OUTTA here

Mike

he is like a baby duckling to me that’s why he wanted to raise them actually

has so many useless apps on his phone. why do you have a flashlight app you have a flashlight BUILT into the phone. its okay though bc he watches lot of youtube tutorials

probably wanted to vlog at some point but he got yelled at by selina in a clip so he stopped

the personality hire,,, everyone loves him but god he can be so bad at his job sometimes. everyone gets mad but never enough to fire him

because he started dating wendy, he started to dress up a little more ! ties and handkerchiefs match. i love you dad

Jonah

he so ran one of those private meme accounts whenever he was younger but he got so bad at everyone saying they were lame he just posted a screenshot that said SUCK MY DICK SON and blocked everyone

his incessant gross comments are a result of being around a bunch of rich white men that happen to be politicians that tend to laugh at them. he has daddy issues. he needs the validation

his little curls going missing are a result of him getting his hair straightened because he wanted to look more professional actually. he burnt his hands so he begged his mom to help him

gets really anxious about his health CONSTANTLY and has a will written out already because he’s scared one day it’ll (he doesn’t know what) catch up to him

Gary

he knows the lyrics to every new pop song ever. he loves it. he used to play Just Dance whenever he was in college or something i don’t know i feel like he might’ve even been in a club that requires that

has an extensive skin care routine. he puts on those fluffy headbands sometimes but stopped bc he realized it was to keep your hair dry and his is so short lmao

definitely has an undiagnosed anxiety disorder. he just pops a pill of whatever and hopes that it works (it doesn’t)

needs heavy validation from authority figures,,,like badly,,, i think that’s why he enjoys it so much whenever any of selina’s boyfriends acknowledge him as a person (or anyone gives him any importance)

he needs someone to tell him what to do because he is so lost on having any identify that isn’t directly tied to someone else ? he’s not even really sure what he himself likes anymore. uses “we” more than he uses “i”

#veep hbo #selina meyer #amy brookheimer #dan egan #mike mclintock #jonah ryan #gary walsh #veep headcannons

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one-fin-wonder · 2 years ago

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Can I have the boys reaction to someone info-dumping to them?

A/N: Yes Anon, you sure as heck can. I really enjoy info dumping on my friends so this is right up my alley. I hope this is what you were hoping for! :D

Warnings: I used my poor duolingo skills and limited Spanish knowledge to write the Spanish, there only a few but the grammar may off, I am so sorry for it in advance but there is translations to what I intended to say. not beta read / I’m too dyslexic for my own good, and fluff? I’m a hopeless romantic man. What do you want from me.

Word count: 1090

Steven Grant:

It all started when Steven asked you about your day as he walked through the door. He set down his messenger bag and turned towards you. It was too late, the waterfall of words already was released.

You began explaining how you dived deeply into your hyperfixation (or specific subject you would be info dumping about)

You smiled wide as you explained, and his heart melted at the sight of you.

are you the type of person that stims when you get excited? (I shore am) Steven will smile if you begin to stim happily while explaining.

He loves knowing that you are so excited that you can’t contain the energy, you have to physically let the happiness out

He simply smiled as he sat down next to you. He nodded and began asking clarifying questions.

“So, what you’re saying is…” “Theoretically then…” “Wait! That means…*He connects to another concept to allow you both to be engaged*”

He’ll wraps his arms around you if you’ll let him, holding onto you as you speak about your topic

He will praise your enthusiasm for the topic and vast knowledge.

“Love, you’re simply a genius.” “I love hearing your view and knowledge” “That’s so fascinating!”

Steven knows exactly what it’s like to need to explain one specific topic. He knows that feeling, that specific feeling like pasta water boiling over on the stove.

He holds your hands (with your permission) as you speak, he likes showing you that he’s there with you and listening, it's a gentle reminder.

He feels it's incredibly important for you to be comfortable enough to share these moments of informational rambling. So he tries his best to show you he’s interested, he hears you and that you are loved.

Marc Spector:

He is very caught off guard

Once he knows you aren’t upset or in distress he sighs heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose before nodding and listening

He tosses his keys to the side as he nods listening to you

Marc doesn’t know fully how to react but he likes to hear your voice. The excitement and sincerity in your voice as you speak makes him smile, just a little.

Marc makes his way over to you finally after he completes his after work routine

Like Steven I think Marc would wrap his arms around you but he wouldn’t know much more than that to show he cares about your information

He does though, He loves you, and he wants to see you happy. He simply doesn’t do emotions well.

(My poor emotionally unavailable boy. He just needs a hug.)

He silently listens and only replies when you ask him if he follows,

Finally once you’re done you look at him with a small little sigh and smile and he melts.

You see it in his eyes and the stern expression he always has just softens.

you can tell how much he loves you in this moment, the pure love just radiating, but he won’t say it. He won’t explain the feeling he is experiencing.

But he loves you and you don’t necessarily need the words that he struggles to say, because it’s obvious in his actions.

and god, the feeling is mutual.

Jake Lockley:

this man has no fucking clue what you are rambling about

He will freeze in the doorway of the small apartment, hand still on the doorknob. He’s so confused and you’re talking a mile an hour in an excited tone. He cannot understand you at this moment.

Once Jake gets to you he will take his gloves off, stuff them in his pocket and put his hands on your shoulders (or a more comfortable spot if this can trigger you like it does me. Essentially he wants to ground you.)

“Mi amor, por favor, slow down. No comprendo.” ("My love, Please, Slow down I don't understand")

Or alternatively, he May think something’s wrong with how excited and rushing towards him you are. He puts a hand on your arm and looks around the apartment then back at you. “Que pasa?? Está bien???” ("What's wrong?? Are you okay???")

He would then notice your smile and beaming expression and relax a little “Dios mío,” ("oh my god")you gave this Poor man a heart attack but he loves you all the same.

he will listen but he will make you repeat yourself again

But it’s only because he cares so much. He wants to understand, so if it takes him several times to understand he will put that effort in.

He nods a lot, especially when it finally clicks in his little murderous, spanish, brain.

When he asks a clarifying question he always ends it with “yeah?” Ex: “so when you say the sun is a star you mean like that fucking ball in the sky, yeah?”

He sits next to you, his arms on his knees as he hunches over listening. He doesn’t look at you he’s looking most likely at the floor or the wall as he focuses on your words.

He tries really hard to make you feel heard but he legit makes that grumpy Spanish man expression the entire time. But you know this is just how he is, he loves you, he really does.

This man keeps a little notebook, like those ones for detectives that fit in pockets. He keeps one of those in his jacket pocket and writes down facts he wants to remember about your favorite topics. He is like a dad who is trying to keep up with the trends.

Not that he would let you necessarily see said notebook, he keeps it hidden in the inside pocket with a small pen or golf pencil in the spiral of the notepad.

He pats your knee like a dad too, to show you he’s there. He’s present with you. It’s subtle but it’s his own way of letting you know he’s trying to understand.

He would move heaven and earth for you, he loves your intelligence, your insight, he loves you. All of you, no matter your flaws, perfections, your needs.

So if being heard is what you need in this moment you know damn well he will give you everything he can to make it happen.

#moon knight headcanon #steven grant #steven grant headcanon #steven grant x reader #marc spector #marc spector fluff #marc spector headcanon #marc spector x reader #jake lockley #jake lockely fluff #jake lockley headcanon #moon knight system #moon knight fluff #moon knight x reader #jake lockely x reader

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ghost-of-ao3 · 2 years ago

Text

So this is going to be a list of Tim centric fics. To be clear I haven’t read very many of the comics but I love both fanon wet cat Tim and Canon feral jackass Tim. I love all the flavors of Tim and I feel like my fic recs will show that so be mindful. I’ll also try to warn for triggers as I list them but I probably won’t get everything so please please be mindful of the tags and keep yourself safe! That said here’s the list in no particular order.

The Definition of Valor by nerdpoe 10,106 words and 1 chapter. This fic is about Tim having been blinded by Ra’s after his Widower attack is forced to adapt and overcome the difficulties that comes with losing his sight. It’s a good mix of funny and serious and I personally adore the way it’s written.

The Blood on Our Hands by KelpieCodyne 8,207 words and 1 chapter. This one is about Tim getting blasted by a spell meant for the person with the highest kill count. I like how Bruce has to grapple with his kids morality and with the fact that many of them have killed before and I really love how his siblings step up and bring out their own problems with his strict moral code. If that’s something you enjoy you might like this one.

Loch & Key by jayburb (toothpasty) 12,514 words and 3 chapters. This one does have Tim being abused by his parents so TW for that. The fic itself is about a legend of Loch Gotham. It features Tim’s interactions with the Loch and the vibes are excellent. I really really loved reading this one.

In Service by smilebackwards 12,730 words and 3 chapters. This is about how Tim ends up apprenticing under Alfred instead of becoming Robin and it changes more than you would think. I really adore the interactions between Tim and Alfred and watching him learn from him. It also re-frames his relationship with Bruce which is deeply sweet because the man has an adoption addiction that can’t be stopped.

Baby Birds and Bat Caves by IzzyMRDB 30,113 words and 20 chapters. Tim goes into the cave system after a storm and it makes him weirder than he already was. It’s based on Welcome to Nightvale but Gotham style and is very fun to read. I adore watching how Tim interacts with the forces that be while the bats are panicking over a child running around Gotham and reporting on the oddities of the city. It’s just a good good fic. TW for Joker’s attack on Barbara and Jason. These are still mentioned and while I don’t find the references overly graphic others might disagree.

Growing Old with You by LilliputianDuckling This is a series with 12 works currently and 110,554 words. It’s a Timkon series where Tim and Kon are childhood friends with good father Lex Luthor, identity shenanigans, and just the struggles of growing up and falling in love. I really cannot recommend this enough if you’re a Timkon enjoyer. There is some smut in the later works and some of the vague homophobia of being 12 year old boys in the early 2010s era but nothing that’s like hate crimes, there’s also mentions of peer pressure with regards to sex but nothing happens. The warnings being said I really connected to the characters in this fic and it just felt very real in a way that was so good. This is probably my favorite Timkon series and like I said I cannot recommend it enough and no words I say will do it justice.

Where Bats and Birds Roost by Mouse_in_this_house this is a series with 26 works and 204,783 words. For warnings There is a fic in here that centers on Sexual harrasment, attempted assault and stalking all done by an original character, Ra’s also harasses Tim So for this series please be mindful of heavy themes in regards to sexual assault. There’s other warnings but I can’t remember them all so please be mindful of the tags and do what you need to do to keep yourself safe. I cannot describe exactly what this series is but it’s a focus on Tim, the Batfam and the Core Four. Tim is so Tim in this series, he’s feral and a little unhinged but also scarily competent. It feels like Tim coming into his own and building a home, building safety net after safety net and making his own. Meanwhile people are worried about him and are dedicated to trying to work it out. That and the Bats think there’s a new player on the rise and the Batfam has no idea it’s Tim. Just all in all a really cool series.

Damian Drake by InkpotSprite 6,962 words and ? Chapters. Damian gets told to find his dad without being told who it is and ends up thinking his dad is Jack Drake. I adore it when Damian ends up imprinting on Tim like a baby duck. This is very sweet and it’s very funny to watch Damian and Dick be at odds. Just a very funny lovely fic.

Alone Together by SpaceWall 22,908 words and 4 chapters. This features Batfam heavily and isn’t exactly Tim centric but I had to add it to the list because this idea for platonic soulmates changed my brain chemistry. Your soulmates are with you your whole life, as invisible forces. I cannot describe this one but it’s really really good.

The Threads That Bind by SpaceWall 5,921 words and 1 chapter. Tim is practiced in thread magic, when Jason attacks Titans tower he sees that magic first hand. I personally love fics where Tim has a special little thing that’s uniquely his, this one does that really well as it describes his relationship with his small form of magic.

Into the Brighter Night by shoalsea 162,894 words and 12 Chapters. This is a fic about Tim that takes place mostly when Tim isn’t there. It shows how his family and friends view him without him being explicitly present for most of the fic and it’s done incredibly like I’m still losing my mind over this fic. Young Justice is heavily present and is my everything. It starts with a threat against Robin and then spirals out from there. I highly recommend this one just showstopping. TW for sexual assault being brought up, it's not graphic but still be mindful.

Maybe with a Shift in Planets by SilberSkiesAtMidnigh 4,557 words and 1 chapter. For warnings there are mentions of Cassandra being abused by her father. This is a fic where Tim finds Cass on a roof before they are found by Bruce. I love how this is focused on Cass’ POV and how it makes sense of the world in her eyes. And I love the way she views Tim Just really lovely work.

To Eat Well by SilverSkiesAtMidnight 4,599 words and 1 chapter. This is a fic about Tim but it focuses mostly on Jason. When Tim is kidnapped the family is left to cope as well as they know how. Jason stress bakes. I’m adding this fic in for a few reasons, one it’s really good and super well written and two the focus is Tim being missing and the love and concern the others have for him.

Surveillance by smilebackwards this is a series with 4 works and 29,187 words. This is a Civilian Tim Au where Jason never dies and it changes things. This series is really good, I love Tim arriving late or early to the Batfam and this fic delivers it so well. Just because he isn’t Batman trained doesn’t mean he’s not competent and just really incredible as a character. A lovely series.

#Tim Drake fics

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sirfrogsworth · 1 year ago

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Hi Froggy,

I hope you've been well! I wanted to reach out and first say that you inspired me many years ago to rescue a corgi! She was a grump, I think she may have taken her name (Elphaba) too literally. She recently crossed the rainbow bridge, but she was such fun and a joy. I hope our pups are playing together, somewhere peaceful.

I have a question unrelated to stumpy Corgis. I'm a veteran birth doula and an aspiring birth photographer! I've been trying to research cameras, lenses, and all sorts of technical stuff. I'm leaving towards purchasing the new Nikon ZF, because of the purported low-light capabilities.

Lenses are throwing me completely.

Do you have any guidance or resources to help a newbie like myself? Not really looking for an in-depth answer (I know how complicated things can get), but maybe a general push in the right direction?

If you don't want or can't answer, no hard feelings! I enjoy just seeing your posts on my dash and I hope the rest of your year is amazing and calm!-Steph

(continued...)

My budget is pretty flexible, since I am an independent contractor the expense would be tallied towards my taxes. But that being said, maybe $1-3k? I know it's important to invest more into lenses!

Usually, I am in a hospital, and lighting is extremely variable. I would be shooting mostly in low-light before baby is born. During delivery and after there is usually a spotlight or fluorescent lighting. The low lighting is exactly why I was looking at the new ZF, but if you have suggestions on that too I'm happy to hear them!

It's very cramped when the baby is born, most medical and support staff are clustered around the laboring person.

Warning! A lot of birth photos will have baby crowning or blood. It's a messy business, so I don't want to trigger you if you're sensitive to those sorts of images.

I will not be able to be directly next to the laboring parent, more than likely I'll be a few feet away, possibly behind the parents or standing on a stool.

After the baby is born, I'll be able to get closer to both parents and baby!

Here's a portfolio that is close to what I would like to provide (once again TW for blood and crowning):

https://www.sarahginderphotography.com/birth-photography-north-new-jersey

I cannot thank you enough for any help or advice, this whole endeavor is like learning a new language!

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

Note from Future Froggie...

I went way overboard on this response, as usual. I have decided I'm going to break it up into 3 parts.

First, an encyclopedia of lens terminology.

Second, a camera and lens buying guide.

Third, practical advice for shooting in cramped rooms with tricky lighting conditions.

While this will be geared towards the original ask, I think this could be helpful to a lot of people. So, let's learn about lenses!

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

Lenses throw everybody, just because there are so many options. It can be overwhelming to look at a picture like this and wonder what will suit you best.

It's a lot of pressure too, because lenses are more important than the camera in a lot of ways. Interchangeable lenses are probably the biggest advantage big cameras have over smartphones these days.

But I think I can help get you up to speed.

The following terms are photospeak you might hear in camera and lens reviews and if you aren't familiar with them, it can make it difficult to figure out what camera and lens to purchase.

I tried to put these in an order that makes sense, but some terms relate to other terms and you may have to read the list twice to make sure you understand how everything mushes together.

Froggie's Encyclopedia of Lens Terms

Lens Mount

Every camera has a specific lens mount. Sony calls theirs the E Mount. Nikon has the F Mount (older) and the Z Mount (mirrorless). So you need to make sure the lens you are looking at is compatible with the mount on your camera.

Mirrorless cameras all upgraded to a mount with a "short flange distance." Going without a mirror allows the lenses to be closer to the sensor.

Long story short... Short flange distance = easier lens design = sharper/lighter lenses.

However, if you want to use older DSLR lenses, there are adapters for Nikon and Canon that allow you to do that.

Aperture

"Aperture" is an opening at the front of the lens. It gets bigger to let in more light or smaller to restrict light.

Wider apertures have a shallower depth of field, causing blurry foregrounds and backgrounds outside the plane of focus. Smaller apertures expand the focus area to keep more stuff from being blurry, but they let in much less light and are difficult to use in dark environments.

Aperture can be a creative decision or it can be a technical decision or it can be a mix of both. If you need a blurry background, use a wider aperture. If you need everything in focus, use a smaller aperture. If you need more light in a dark scene, open it up.

F-stop

"F-stop" is a number representing how big the aperture is. A lower number is a bigger hole. Higher number is a smaller hole. It is helpful to memorize f-stops as they are not easily divisible. Cameras generally allow third stops, half stops, and full stops.

These are all a "full stop" apart.

Stop Down/Open Up

When someone says to "stop down" a lens, they are telling you to make the aperture smaller or use a higher f-stop number.

If they say to "open up" they are saying to make the hole bigger or lower the f-stop number.

Depth of Field (DoF)

Depth of field refers to how much of the photo is in focus. Things in front of the plane of focus will get blurrier and blurrier and things behind the plane of focus will get blurrier and blurrier. A shallow depth of field means only a tiny sliver of your image will be in focus. A deep depth of field means almost everything will be in focus.

The wider the aperture, the shallower the depth of field.

The smaller the aperture, the deeper the depth of field.

Focal Plane or Plane of Focus

The focal plane is the sharpest point within the depth of field. You can imagine an imaginary section of 3D space where things within the depth of field are sharp and things outside are blurry. The farther away from the focal plane, the blurrier they will get. But the focal plane is not always dead center of the depth of field.

Typically, at close distances, things will be sharp half in front of where you focused and half behind where you focused. As things get farther away, that changes to more 1/3 in front and 2/3 behind. The ratio changes even more at greater distances, but the 50-50 and 1/3-2/3 ratios are typically what photographers try to remember.

Shallow Depth of Field

The focal plane is something you need to be very aware of at close distances with a wide aperture—as the depth of field can end up as a tiny sliver.

Let's say you are only a few feet away from a baby and you have the aperture set at f/1.2. You focus on the nearest baby eye, and then you notice its ears and nose are out of focus.

The plane of focus and shallow depth of field are causing this issue. This might be a worthy compromise if you are in a dark room and your ISO is very high and you are worried about too much noise.

However, if you can use a flash or some kind of lighting, you can stop down your lens and increase that depth of field around the focal plane.

Bokeh

Bokeh is the quality of the blurriness. Some people are more obsessed with how good the blurry parts of the photo are more so than the in focus parts. Bokeh is typically judged by "bokeh balls" which are just out-of-focus lights in the background. While I like attractive bokeh balls as much as the next photographer, I will admit this is one of the sillier aspects of photography.

Field of View (FoV)/Angle of View

This is how much stuff you can fit in frame at a given distance. Wide angle lenses can fit more stuff in at a shorter distance and telephoto lenses can fill the frame with stuff that is farther away. The focal length of the lens determines the field of view. The focal length is designated by millimeters and the field of view by degrees.

Focal Length

Technically, this is "the distance between the lens's optical center and the camera's sensor."

In simpler terms, this is how you determine the field of view of a given lens.

A short focal length, like 10mm, will have a wider field of view. You have to be very close to your subject to fill the frame with them.

And a longer focal length, like 500mm, will allow you to fill the frame with your subject from farther distances.

Typically all lenses are designated by their focal length. If someone says, "Hand me the 50" they mean a 50mm lens.

35mm Equivalent

Not every camera has the same sized sensor. So when we talk about lenses, we need a reference to help us understand how a given lens will behave. A 50mm f/2.8 lens does not have the same field of view or depth of field when placed on different sensors. So, we need a standard for comparison.

The standard that is used is the "full frame" sensor which is roughly the same size as a 35mm piece of film.

Anything smaller is considered a "cropped sensor."

Those cropped sensor cameras have a "crop factor"—a simple multiplier that helps you understand how lenses compare. And when you use this multiplier it tells you the "35mm equivalent."

Confused yet? Yeah, sorry, it would be easier if camera manufacturers chose metrics that didn't change depending on the sensor, but this allows them to make their cameras and lenses seem more impressive in the marketing.

There are two main cropped sensors for ILCs. (Interchangeable lens cameras.) APS-C and Micro Four Thirds. They have a "crop factor" of 1.5x and 2x respectively. The Micro 4/3 sensor is half the size of Full Frame, therefore it has a 2x crop factor. And when you apply this crop factor to the aperture and focal length you can determine how a lens will behave.

For example, a 50mm f/2.8 lens on a micro 4/3 sensor would behave the same as a 100mm f/5.6 lens on a full frame—as 100mm is 2x 50mm and f/5.6 is 2 stops above f/2.8.

As you can see, the Micro 4/3 lens is not going to do as well in low light. The iPhone boasts an aperture of f/1.8 on its main lens, but when you figure out the 35mm equivalent, it's more like an f/8 lens.

I went to all the effort to explain this because it demonstrates that larger sensors allow you to work in cramped spaces with less light. If you want to use a 50mm in a hospital room, you probably can on a full frame. But on a Micro 4/3 you might need to be out in the hall because your lens is acting like it is 100mm. So the Zf would be a good choice in this regard.

Camera Shake

This is the bad kind of blurry. Humans are not tripods, so when you are handholding a lens, you need to make sure your shutter speed is fast enough to freeze the action of your image. Camera shake is very easy to control on wide angle lenses and very difficult to manage with telephoto lenses.

Reciprocal Rule

The reciprocal rule states that in order to get sharp photos without blurry camera shake, you must set your shutter speed to 1 over twice the focal length of your lens. So if you have a 100mm lens, you need to set your shutter speed at 1/200 to be safe.

This rule breaks down at a shutter speed of 1/50 if there is anything moving in your image. So if a dog is running or a car is driving by, it will have a motion trail, but at least it won't be due to your shaky hands.

Image Stabilization

This is a feature some lenses have that helps reduce camera shake. Image stabilization can counteract shaky hands and let you get sharp photos with a much slower shutter speed. Newer cameras have sensor stabilization which does the same thing. And if you pair up a stabilized sensor with a stabilized lens, it is almost as effective as using a tripod.

Stabilization is measured in stops. You might hear a lens has 4 stops of stabilization. That means you can handhold the lens and not get camera shake with a shutter speed 4 stops below the reciprocal rule. So for that 100mm lens, that 1/200 becomes roughly 1/12. And if your sensor has 4 stops, you could handhold a shot for nearly a second without any shake.

However, at shutter speeds that slow, if anything in the frame is moving, they will probably have motion blur. But for still life scenes, or maybe a sleeping baby, this can be very handy if you don't have a tripod with you.

If being able to handhold at lower shutter speeds seems important, then you might want to seek out a lens with stabilization and pair it to a camera with sensor stabilization for maximum stable-osity.

Lens Compression

Lens compression is kind of a myth, but I think we still call it compression because it is easier to explain to beginners than optical physics. The lens doesn't really compress anything, it's actually a matter of distance and the aforementioned physics. But I'm going to go with the easy explanation for now.

Lens compression is a phenomenon seen with different focal lengths. If you take a photo with a 500mm lens, the background will seem to compress with the foreground. Thus objects in the background will seem much larger in size.

This also happens with faces.

Wider lenses exaggerate distance. At 10mm, the lens would only be a few inches away from someone's face.

From the lens's point of view, the ears are several times farther away from the lens than the tip of the nose. So the lens is like, "Your ears are really far away! And far away things are really small, right?" So the lens gives us a big nose and small ears and makes us look a bit alien.

But at 100mm, the lens will be several yards away.

From this perspective, the lens feels like your ears and your nose are nearly the same distance away. And the lens is now like, "Things that are the same distance away do not get bigger or smaller." The lens seems to compress or flatten the face, causing a more flattering appearance in the image.

Minimum focus distance

This is sometimes called the working distance. This is how close you can get to your subject while maintaining focus. If you get too close, your camera will just hunt and freak out perpetually until you back up and it can lock on again. This isn't always advertised prominently for lenses, so you need to make sure the lens will be able to focus in the space you plan to use it.

Extension Tubes

Sometimes called "macro extension tubes." These are spacers you put between your camera and lens to decrease the minimum focus distance. In some cases you can even turn a normal lens into a macro lens. These tubes are able to stack and the more you put on, the more into the macro realm you can go. They come in smart and dumb versions. The dumb ones require you to manual focus whereas the smart ones can still use the autofocus system. I highly recommend the smart ones, as they are not too much more expensive.

Lens Imperfections

There are a few imperfections that can plague all lenses and their quality is sometimes judged by how well they mitigate those imperfections. Here are some of those attributes.

Lens Distortion

As lenses get wider, they allow a larger field of view by accepting light rays that are coming from the side of your lens. Let's look at this image again.

Your lens then has to correct those rays and send them to a square, flat sensor. If you look at the 180 degree fisheye, that entire arc has to be flattened and made square. And as good as optical engineering has become, the wider the lens, the harder it is to keep the image from distorting.

This is typically called "barrel distortion." Minor distortion can actually be corrected in editing software. Every lens has correction algorithms. Though sometimes it is best to embrace the distortion, like on a fisheye lens. Make the distortion a feature and not a bug.

Chromatic Aberration

This is the fancy name for color fringing. This is a defect in the lens that cause false colors to contaminate certain objects in a photo. Typically this happens around dark skinny things against a bright background, such as tree branches.

Modern lenses have nearly eliminated this, except for the super cheap models, but if you do end up with fringing, this can be easily corrected in Lightroom or Photoshop. And many lenses even have that correction built in and all you have to do is check a box.

Sharpness

You might not think of sharpness as an optical flaw, but no lens is perfectly sharp. And the quest to make a perfectly sharp lens involves engineering those optical flaws to a minimum.

A "sharp lens" is one with incredible fidelity. Even zoomed in beyond 100%, sharp lenses will show great detail. If you can't get close to the subject and need to crop your photo later, having a sharp lens can make up for the loss in resolution—as you can upscale without much loss in quality. If you plan to make large high quality prints, a sharp lens will help more than tons of megapixels.

That said, if you truly want to get the most out of a high megapixel camera, a sharp lens comes in handy here too. A smartphone may boast in the marketing as having 200 megapixels, but it has a tiny plastic lens. So even though it technically has 200 megapixels on the sensor, the lens will give it the equivalent of maybe 8-10 megapixels worth of detail. People forget, the lens has a resolution as well, and if the lens cannot resolve 200 megapixels, you aren't going to get a 200 megapixel image.

A sharp lens will allow for more detail than higher megapixels. In some cases you need to double or triple the number of pixels to see an increase in detail. Whereas you can put a super sharp lens on a 12 megapixel camera and blow any smartphone out of the water.

And if you put a sharp lens on a 50 megapixel camera, you can almost see into skin pores.

So... sharp = more detail. And more detail gives you greater cropping power for when you can't get close to babies.

Now, I am obligated to say that some photo nerds chase sharpness as if it is some holy grail. They need the sharpest lens so all of their pixels are perfect at 100% zoom even though no one ever looks at an image that close. There are amazing photos that have been blurry. There are amazing photos taken with 50 year old vintage glass. Sharpness is just another tool. If you need to crop. If you need to upscale. If you need to print large... it is a great help. But nearly every lens made for a modern mirrorless camera is "sharp" to some degree.

So, if you need extra sharpness for certain situations, do your research and find a lens that is sharp as can be. But sharpness should be like 8th on the list of priorities.

Soft Lens

A "soft" lens is how a non-sharp lens is referred to. Most modern optics for mirrorless cameras have some degree of sharposity.

Sharpitude.

Sharp...ness.

So you don't need to worry too much about getting a detrimentally soft lens unless you go super duper budget. This is why I usually recommend people skip the "kit lens" unless they absolutely can't afford anything better.

Though sometimes people purposely get vintage lenses because they don't like sharpness and prefer the "character" of older lenses. The imperfections can achieve a different artistic goal. Though this can also be achieved through lens filters... or Vaseline.

I'm looking at you, Barbara Walters.

Sharpness at the Corners

When I read that in my head just now I said it the same way I do "Panic! at the Disco."

Engineers will prioritize sharpness at the center of the lens since that is where most of the interesting stuff tends to be. But also, the light rays at the center tend to be the most parallel as they head to the sensor, so they don't need as much correction. The rays coming from the sides have to be bent and manipulated to correct for distortion, so keeping things sharp at the corners can be a challenge.

Now, knowing that, and knowing how the aperture works, you can infer that when you stop down your lens and make the hole smaller, all of the light rays are constricted to a smaller area. This makes them easier for your lens to deal with, so if a lens has problems with corner sharpness, you can usually stop down to improve this. So if a lens is soft at the corners at f/1.8, you might be able to go to f/2 or f/4 to get better results.

Vignetting

Vignetting is a circular area of darkness at the perimeter of your photo. This is another side effect caused by the same things as soft corners. When correcting those non-parallel light rays, it causes them to travel an ever so slightly farther distance getting to your sensor. And the inverse square law tells us that light becomes dimmer as it travels longer distances.

This is very easy to correct. Usually your camera has a setting to correct vignetting if you are outputting JPEG files. And if you are shooting RAW photos, your editing software should have a check box to fix the vignetting—usually the same one that fixes chromatic aberration. This is usually called "lens correction" in most menus.

Also, same as with corner sharpness, stopping down your lens will usually fix this optically rather than with software algorithms.

Contrast

Contrast is probably the most important attribute to determine lens quality. Good contrast can make a soft lens look good. But lens contrast is not always consistent. It can get better or worse depending on the lighting in your scene.

The best way to test the contrast of a lens is to take a picture of something that is backlit. A person with the sun behind them is a great indicator. If they have no light on them, the person should fall into inky darkness. But if a lens has poor contrast, they will seem like a faded gray.

Focus Breathing

Focus breathing is a phenomenon where your focal length changes depending on how far away your subject is. It's usually not a big deal and most people don't even notice it, but if you ever do video, it can cause a few headaches. Some people can get annoyed because they feel they aren't getting the advertised focal length on the lens they bought. Like, if you get a 300mm lens and it only goes to 250mm for things super far away, that can be annoying.

This video explains it in detail.

youtube

Lens Types

Prime Lens

A "prime lens" has a fixed focal length and cannot be zoomed. Typically prime lenses are "faster" (wider max aperture) and sharper. Weirdly they can be very inexpensive or the most expensive. They can be extremely lightweight or weigh a ton. And if you want the sharpest lens possible or the fastest lens possible or both, it will be expensive and heavy.

Having at least one fast prime is usually recommended for any professional photographer.

Zoom Lens

A "zoom lens" allows you to zoom. Obviously. But there are few that go below an aperture of f/2.8, so less light gathering and you sacrifice a bit of sharpness. However, if you don't know how much space you will have to work with, the flexibility of a zoom can be invaluable.

Be warned, while a cheap prime lens can still take fairly good photos, cheap zooms are usually pretty terrible. There are plenty of reasonably priced zoom lenses to choose from, but if the price seems too good to be true, I would trust that intinct.

Wide Angle Lens

A "wide angle lens" is any focal length below 35mm. Wider focal lengths allow you to get more stuff in the photo at shorter distances. A theme you might notice with photography is that every benefit has a compromise or consequence to go with it. Wide angle lenses are wonderful if you are in a cramped space. They also make it easy to keep everything in focus. But as you go wider, distances become exaggerated and barrel distortion becomes more pronounced and harder to correct.

Things that are close to the lens seem huge and things farther away seem tiny. One trick to remember is things in the center of the frame will be less affected by distortion. Something to take into account when taking those smartphone selfies.

If you look, the ball looks huge in frame because it was only a few inches from the lens. Otis was literally smaller in frame than the ball despite only being about 2 feet away. However, he doesn't look all stretchy like the ball because he is centered.

Standard Lens

A "standard" or "normal lens" represents about the same field of view as the human eye. Generally around 40mm to 55mm on a full frame camera (there is some debate on this, but close enough). This is right about where you can take pictures of faces without the unflattering side effects of wide angle.

Telephoto Lens

A "telephoto lens" allows you to stand farther away and still fill the frame with your subject. Usually lenses 200mm and above are considered telephoto. These are often heavy and expensive.

Specialty Lenses

Ultrawide

This is just an extremely wide angle lens. At this point, you just except the massive amounts of distortion and embrace it. These lenses are extremely fun.

Medium Telephoto

These are sometimes called "portrait" lenses as well. They are a little more tele than standard and not quite tele enough for long distance photography. Usually in the 70-200mm range. This is the focal range that allows you to still be close to your subject but you are far enough away to get extra flattering lens compression on faces.

Superzoom Lens

A "superzoom" has an extremely large focal range. It can go from very wide to very telephoto. These are usually not wonderful lenses, although they have improved on mirrorless cameras in recent years. There are a few that could even be used professionally now. But most are just a huge mediocre compromise for vacation pix.

The cheap ones aren't fast, they aren't sharp, and every time you zoom people think your camera is having an erection.

If you are traveling and you have no idea what you might be photographing and carrying around a bunch of lenses is impractical, these have utility. But the larger the focal range, the more mediocre they get. Typically if the zoom range exceeds ~150mm you will start noticing that mediocrity. So a 70-200mm can be fantastic. But an 18-300mm will be very mid.

Macro

A macro lens is any lens that has 1x or more magnification. 1x magnification is a designation that relates the sensor size to how much of the subject fills the frame of your image. For 1x, that ratio should be 1:1.

So if you imagine a quarter lying on top of an image sensor, that's how big the quarter should be in your photo. 2x magnification would be like if a quarter doubled in size and you laid it on top of the image sensor. And so on.

Beware of lenses claiming to be macro and really only having a short working distance. 0.5x is not macro, but is sometimes advertised as so.

Tilt Shift Lens

This is a very niche lens. Most people know of it from the photos that make everyone look like they are in a miniature land.

For every other lens, the focal plane is perpendicular. If you move the camera at an angle, the focal plane will match that movement. So what the tilt shift lens allows you to do is angle the focal plane so your depth of field goes in bonkers directions.

Product photographers love this because you can take a photo of an array of products from a 45 degree angle and keep everything in focus.

This image would be impossible to maintain complete focus of all the objects without a tilt shift lens.

In this example, without tilting the lens, the tip of the multitool is out of focus.

And now you can see the camera hasn't moved, but the lens is at a steeper angle. And you'll also notice the entire tool is in focus.

But wait, there's more! Did you forget about the shifting? Architectual photographers can use the shift function of the lens to correct perspective distortion and keep buildings looking straight.

Will this lens help in the photographing of infants?

Probably not.

But I bet you thought it was cool and are glad I included it.

Recommended Essential Lenses

I didn't know what to call this section. These are just the collection of lenses most photographers will try to acquire as they build out their kit.

Nifty Fifty

This is probably the first lens everyone should buy. Almost every brand has their own version. It is an inexpensive 50mm lens with a sub f/2 aperture. Canon's Nifty Fifty or "Plastic Fantastic" is probably the most famous example. It is only $125 and has an f/1.8 aperture.

This lens may not be the sharpest and it might have a lot of plastic-y, cheap feeling parts, but it is a wonderful way to get started with photography. You can use the wide aperture to experiment with bokeh and shallow depth of field. And the 50mm focal length is probably one of the most versatile. Not too wide, so people look normal, and not too tele, so you aren't a mile away from your subjects.

The Holy Trinity

The "Holy Trinity" is meant to describe the 3 lenses that can handle nearly every photographic task while maintaining professional quality results. Typically these lenses are all f/2.8 and are high quality zoom lenses. The 16-35mm, the 24-70mm, and the 70-200mm.

Most photographers can accomplish just about any task with these lenses in their bag.

Froggie's Holy Hexagon

That said, if I had an unlimited budget I would actually have 6 lenses to cover everything. Beyond the Holy Trinity, I would get a fast prime, an ultrawide, and a macro lens.

A fast prime can see in the dark and has more background blur. The nifty fifty would work great for this.

An ultrawide is one of the most fun lenses you will ever use, even if it distorts everything to a crazy degree and isn't useful very often. It is great for breaking you out of photographic ruts and can really get the creative juices flowing.

And a macro lens is not just useful for making tiny things big. It also allows you to focus at any distance. Sometimes you just need to get a tad bit closer than your other lenses will allow. Macro lenses are also pretty great portrait lenses and can serve multiple functions.

And if anyone is interested in sports or wildlife photos, a nice telephoto lens might be a seventh lens to consider.

I think that is the end of part 1.

I hope this was helpful. And I look forward to posting part 2 soon.

#photography #lenses

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emilygrayce91 · 2 months ago

Text

From Bucharest

Chapter 7 - Daybreak

Trigger Warning - 18+ for Violence, Sexual Themes, Trauma, Torture, Drugs, Death, Language.

If you’re new to this story, start at the beginning: Masterlist From Bucharest

Several more days had passed, this Bec was certain of, and she wondered if Emil and her other colleagues were looking for her. She was supposed to be prepping for her address to the Romanian council and teaching her classes, but instead, she was stuck in a six by six cell with no windows, very little food, and the occasional visits to Dr. Pirigov's office.

He poked and prodded her, asking questions about her medical and personal history. All seemingly mundane until his final question that day that triggered something in her recent memory.

"Tell me about your research, your book. It seems well regarded in your field, no?"

Her book? How the hell would he know about her book, and more importantly why did he care? It wasn't a coffee table read. Only others in her field had really paid much attention to it, and even then it was such a niche topic that very few professors had adopted it into their curriculum. It absolutely wasn't for the everyday reader, not even a doctor, if that was in fact what Dr. Pirigov was.

"My book?" she asked, picking at the cuticle that had turned into an open wound on her thumb.

She sat in his office, having been dragged there shackled and tossed into a small arm chair next to an identical one he enveloped with his rotund figure. The room was littered with newspaper clippings, x-ray films, and what she thought were different forms of Russian propoganda.

"Don't be modest. It was a work of art. But I do wonder why it was so...neutral." He cocked his head to the side, rubbing the face of his watch with his fingers. The glass was cracked and the leather band looked worn and old, and the skin on his fingertips kept catching on the glass.

"It was a monograph, a scholarly piece based on fact," she muttered, recalling the year she had spent writing the book. Days researching in the library, hours spent interviewing other experts.

"But surely you sway one way over the other?"

Another memory stirred in place inside her head. This was almost the exact same conversation she had had with Emil.

"Is that what this is about?" she whispered, pausing the picking of her thumb to face Dr. Pirigov fully.

A wide smile spread across his face. "Ah, so perhaps you are understanding now."

"Is this about the address with the Romanian Parliament? If you don't want me to do it, I won't. I didn't even want to do it in the first place."

"On the contrary, Rebecca. We need you to fulfill that responsibility."

"Bec."

"Apologies...Bec." He leaned forward and patted her shin before standing. He began pacing in front of her, his little legs looking like they were going to fold underneath him.

"My opinion means nothing. It's the fucking Romanian Parliament. I'm no one. What I say won't matter."

"Perhaps it could, Bec. But first, I need to know what exactly you were planning on including in your address?"

"I was going to cite my book."

"But that's not all you were going to do, was it?"

"Just tell me what you want from me. Stop waisting my time and yours," Bec said, tracking Dr. Pirigov back and forth. "If you let me go, I'll do whatever you want."

"I like you, Bec. You shoot straight, as they say." He stopped pacing. "We need you to convince the Romanian Parliament to support the Sokovia Accords."

"Support the accords?"

"Correct."

"I can't do that."

"Bec, you just said you would do whatever I wanted."

"I can't support the accords. I can present the facts, but I cannot support them. I don't think..." she trailed off, realizing in that moment how strongly she did feel against the accords.

"So you do feel in some way about them, then."

Bec jumped in surprise as Dr. Pirigov nodded quickly and left his office, murmuring to the agents outside the door who marched in and pulled Bec to her feet.

She expected to be taken back to her cell, but they took a left turn back into the room where James had injected her with...literal pain.

Her heart dropped when they forced her into the surgical chair. "Please don't do this," she pleaded with the agent locking her wrists to the armrests. He ignored her, and they both left the room.

The space was the same, nothing had been moved since the last time she was there, but this time she knew what was coming. Her blood was already boiling and her pulse was quickening. She didn't want this happen. She needed this not to happen. She wanted anything but to be in that room. She had simply gone for a walk to get some air and to clear her head.

In a matter of twenty-four hours, Bec had gone from feeling confident in her space, in her job, in her life, to being a prisoner of a seemingly sadistic group of fascists.

At the same time, while she knew she would soon be facing intense amounts of pain, all she could think about were those damn plums. She knew she hadn't really liked them that much to keep revisiting the booth. She had really just wanted to see him again, hear him again.

And look where that had taken her.

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

No one addressed him as anything. Sometimes he overhead them call him the Winter Soldier and on rare occasions, Bucky, but he was simply a ghost with no identity, no past, and no real future.

He lay on the rooftop tracking his target through the scope on his M249. The man on the street below was tall and dressed in a nice suit. Other than a picture and a location, the Winter Soldier wasn't sure who he was. The man could've been a salesman, a lawyer, a politician. He probably would never know what this man did for a living or if he had friends and a family, or why he was even worth killing, and that sometimes made it easier to pull the trigger...sometimes.

He took in a small even breath, steadied his heart, and pulled the trigger.

The man dropped with little more than a thud.

The Winter Soldier stood, throwing his M249 over his shoulder. He looked out over the city, grateful for a glimpse of the sun peaking out before he would need to return to HYDRA.

His mission was complete, at least that mission, and at least for now.

Kill Cal Collins.

Turn Her.

His ongoing mission haunted him, the only one that seemed to cause him any sort of hesitation. His lapse in the cell with her was a mistake, but it had been stronger than anything he had felt in a long time. Stronger than the nightmares he had every damn night when he wasn't in cryosleep.

She did something to him, stirred something that had long been buried every time HYDRA needed to wipe his memory and reset him for a new mission.

He cleared his throat, rubbed a hand across his face, and jumped from the five story building, landing in a crouch on the street.

The body of Cal Collins was not far away and the Winter Soldier could smell the blood pooling around his head.

He knew soon he would have to complete his other mission, but he knew his other mission would entail much more than a simple shot to the head and that scared him.

Archive Of Our Own From Bucharest

#bucky barnes #fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #fanfic #marvel mcu #sebastian stan #winter soldier #bucky barnes fanfiction #wattpad #ao3 fanfic

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nofomogirl · 1 year ago

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Before the Beginning (part 1.5.)

Part 1.1. | Part 1.2. | Part 1.3. | Part 1.4. |

Part 2.1. | Part 2.2. | Part 2.3. | Part 2.4. |

In this post, I'm going to wrap part 1 up and I won't lie, I'm really nervous. I feel like I've made a tall and wobbly tower of blocks and now I need to make something coherent out of it. Make all this rambling have a point.

Plus, I'll need to talk about Final Fifteen, and that's inherently nerve-wracking.

You say I've already written about it? Whole 9 posts about Metatron's manipulation, picking it apart step by step? Yes, I did. But that's the point - it was about Metatron. I skipped the worst part - the last conversation between Aziraphale and Crowley.

I couldn't avoid it forever. Let's scratch and poke at that wound.

Fair warning though: there won't be any stark revelations. I'm just processing things by writing about them.

Let's start with some facts. These are all hard canon:

Crowley used to be an angel

Aziraphale used to know him back then

They both remember it, at least partly

The Fall transformed Crowley

And these are not canonical facts, but relatively safe guesses:

They don't talk about it

Crowley avoids thinking about it

Aziraphale has no clue how Crowley feels about it

Honestly, it appears that Crowley's pre-Fall identity is more of a taboo for him than the Fall itself. Sure, the Fall is still a sore topic, and he doesn't exactly discuss it, but he is talking about it, if only a little bit, and on some occasions he even brings it up himself. But when his angelic past is mentioned he just refuses to go there. He shuts it down on the spot with no regard for the circumstances.

This exact happened in Final Fifteen, except this time Aziraphale wasn't just pointing out Crowley used to be an angel, he also suggested Crowley may become an angel.

Just look at the dialogue, especially Crowley's responses.

M: (...) it might be considered irregular, but it would certainly be within your jurisdiction to restore your friend, Crowley, to full angelic status. C: He said what? A: He said I could appoint you to be an angel. You could come back to Heaven and... and everything. Like the old times. Only even nicer. C: Right. And you told him just where he could stick it, then? A: Not at all. C: Oh, we're better than that, you're better than that, angel! You don't need them. I certainly don't need them! Look, they asked me back to Hell, I said no. I'm not rejoining their team. Neither should you.

A lot of people pointed out how they were talking past each other the whole scene, not really hearing what the other was saying. I wholeheartedly agree and I think it started right here, with Crowley refusing to acknowledge and address what Aziraphale had said and ever so subtly - most likely unconsciously - steering the conversation away from the topic and into the miscommunication storm.

I mean, just look at what happened. In slow motion.

Metatron offered Aziraphale the job of the supreme archangel.

Aziraphale said No, I don't want to.

Metatron then altered the offer and said if Aziraphale took the job, he could turn Crowley back into an angel.

Problems start here.

S3 may change my mind but right now I am convinced Aziraphale doesn't really understand what the Fall was. He doesn't understand what it was objectively, and he doesn't understand what it means to Crowley personally. This is why Metatron's offer seems so attractive to him. He sees only pros and no cons. He cannot fathom what could be undesirable about it.

Metatron, on the other hand, knows much much more. That's why he feels safe making this seemingly generous offer - he knows it will cost him nothing because Crowley won't take it. Not only that, he knows the mere mention will trigger Crowley, and make him irrational. That in turn will upset and trigger Aziraphale thus making him more vulnerable and easier to manipulate.

Back to the scene.

Aziraphale goes to Crowley and reiterates Metatron's offer to him. He tells him that if he takes it, Crowley can be an angel again.

Now this is the important part. How does Crowley respond to it?

He immediately gets angry. Not amusingly annoyed or endearingly peeved, but properly angry.

And then he goes on a rant about why he and Aziraphale shouldn't rejoin their old sides. And that's... not entirely relevant.

For quite some time I couldn't figure out why Aziraphale's "Well, obviously you said no to Hell, you're the bad guys" didn't upset me as much as it logically should. Sure, I'm Aziraphale's defender and apologist but this line is objectively unfair to Crowley. I should be disappointed and frustrated. So why would I feel like I wanted to agree with it, even though my brain clearly didn't?

Then it finally clicked. It wasn't what Aziraphale said, especially not the "you're the bad guys" part. It was about his tone. I could relate viscerally to how ridiculous he found Crowley's argument to be. Because honestly Crowley, baby, what are you talking about? What do you think you're proving to your angel here? How is the offer you were made to go back to Hell even remotely comparable?

Sure, they appear to be almost the same on the surface. Beelzebub told Crowley he could go back to Hell, and become a Duke. Metatron told Aziraphale he could go back to Heaven and become a Supreme Archangel. But that similarity disappears if - unlike Crowley - you don't conveniently take bits and pieces out of context but look at the whole thing.

Beelzebub's offer was that if Crowley helped them find Gabriel he would be allowed to go back to Hell and become a Duke. Metatron's offer was that if Aziraphale returned to Heaven and became the Supreme Archangel, he would be able to make Crowley an angel.

Rejoining his old side (with a promotion) was meant to be a prize for Crowley, but a price for Aziraphale.

Both of our ineffable spouses love Earth and given the absolute freedom of choice, they would like to live there forever. Preferably undisturbed by any supernatural institution in any way. I don't think anybody doubts that. Leaving Earth and getting involved with their former sides - no matter the rank - was the exact opposite of that, the exact opposite of what either of them wanted.

Crowley was offered that undesirable thing as a reward, so obviously he said no.

Aziraphale was offered that undesirable thing as a part of a package deal which also contained something he perceived as highly desirable, so obviously he considered it.

But Crowley reacted as if Metatron's offer was the same as Beelzebub's offer. As if it was all about Aziraphale being invited back to Heaven. He focuses on trying to convince the angel not to go, on explaining how Heaven isn't good at all, and finally on confessing and offering to run away together. He tries everything except responding to the actual offer and simply saying he doesn't want to be an angel.

I believe the main reason was what I listed among the safe guesses - that it was too difficult to talk or even think about. So he focused on the other part instead. It came easily because (a) anything that wasn't thinking about himself as an angel was great at the moment, and (b) the idea of Aziraphale leaning toward Heaven yet again was something he had strong feelings and opinions about.

Sadly, Aziraphale helped him steer the conversation away from the point with his response. The infamous "you're the bad guys. But Heaven... Well, it's the side of Truth. Of Light. Of Good."

I believe that was a point of no return beyond which the whole situation couldn't be saved. Not right then and there. Not without both of them stepping away and calming down. But somebody made sure they wouldn't be able to do it...

And the worst part is, I don't think there was all that much faith behind Aziraphale's words. I firmly believe he honestly wasn't interested in taking Metatron's offer unless Crowley went with him. But as he got unbalanced he fell into old mental grooves.

If you don't mind, I'll stop here. I neither have it in me to break apart the entire conversation (perhaps I'll face this monster one day but no promises) nor is it necessary for this series of posts.

The point of which - in case you've forgotten, which I, admittedly, made very easy for you - is that (1) Crowley was substantially transformed by the Fall, (2) he does not identify with his past angelic persona and is pretty much unable to think about himself in those terms, (3) Aziraphale severely underestimates the depth of the transformation, (4) has very little knowledge and understanding about Crowley's feelings on the entire matter, and (5) it let him to making a lot of assumptions.

Another thing I am not going to discuss here is what Aziraphale thinks he's offering Crowley. Perhaps the subject will get its turn one day. For now, suffice it to say, that what Aziraphale is offering - or rather what Metatron has offered - is most definitely NOT what Aziraphale believes it to be.

In the opening post, I pointed out that angel!Crowley didn't have any visible serpentine traits (he had brown eyes with regular round irises and he didn't have his sigil/tattoo), and I proposed a theory that it's supposed to hint at a lack of serpentine nature. That Crowley wasn't originally a snake but became one during or after the Fall.

If we look at Aziraphale's offer through these lenses, Crowley's unyielding rejection of it takes on a whole different meaning. It isn't about principles anymore or about Crowley's feelings getting hurt or his worth possibly being questioned. It isn't symbolic. It's very real.

The offer to restore Crowley to full angelic status very likely means a repetition of the Fall - a painful transformation that mangles the spirit and alters parts of a person beyond repair.

The offer to make Crowley an angel may very well mean the eradication of snake!Crowley.

I don't believe Aziraphale understands it.

Crowley couldn't bear thinking about it so he never talked about it.

Thus concludes part 1.

I am very emotionally tired.

Thank you for reading.

#good omens #good omens 2 #post series #good omens meta #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #very long post #before the beginning #final fifteen

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alexandraisyes · 6 months ago

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I really want to thank you.

I've learned a lot about psychology and mental health from your blog. And it's helped me change how I talk about disorders a lot (not calling people and characters sociopaths/psychopaths/narcassists when they're a bad person, not making jokes about schizophrenia, stopping saying "im delusional", etc.) And honestly its not even that hard to do once I understand the why of it. Why should I call villains sociopaths automatically? Because obviously that villainizes Aspd. And then it just- clicks in my brain and yeah, for some things (especially the delusional one because I hear people say it all the time) I have to remind myself and correct myself, but just changing my way of thinking helps what I say

It also isn't even kind of an inconvenience?? Like sure, for soem things I have to figure out what to say instead, but tbh that just makes me think deeper on what actually is going on. Not demonizing disorders actually is helping my own mental health, its nice

Plus, you've actually helped me discover my love for psychology. Learning how the brain works is really interesting! And I want to help people. Plus I'm learning in a way that doesn't cause my anxiety. I have issues with seeing things that I relate to and automatically worrying that I have that disorder or whatever, and it's defiently getting better, but also the way you explain things doesn't trigger that warning alarm in my brain. It's straight forward, and often you're talking about things I don't even kind of relate too, which both helps me learn about how other people's brains work and let's me learn without worrying about myself

anyway- uhh TLDR that was just a lengthy way to say that your explanations and things have educated me and I really enjoy reading them (sometimes I physically can't bring myself to because they're long, but most of the time I can!!!)

Thank youuu. You've helped me learn more about others and myself <3

I have been marinating this in my mind for the past day, trying to figure out how to express how lovely of a feeling this brings me. I'm not exactly the emotional sort, so the immediate shock and then elation has long since passed, but the contentedness remains.

I cannot properly express the gratitude I feel, towards you and the universe, from this message. This is the kind of impact I've wanted to have on the world since I was very young. I would sit in my room as a little girl and daydream that I would write a novel or sing a song that was so expressive about pain and clarity and yes, psychology, although I didn't know the word for it, that it would shift people's mentalities, and make them understand why compassion is important. And reach the people who needed to hear it, and help them deal with their own hurt, and their own trauma, and let my words be a sort of healing factor in people's lives.

Never once did I ever think I'd achieve that through a tumblr blog.

And I have such a small amount of reach, such a small amount of influence in the grand scheme of things, but pebbles can cause landsides.

It's such a profound feeling to know that you have accomplished what you set out to do in even just a handful of people. That you have made a real difference to the net positive, like you've always wanted to. Everyone wants to leave a lasting legacy, an impression on people, that's just human nature, and some people will reach and reach and reach for that legacy and never be satisfied.

And I'm about to start getting really philosophical, so I'll cut it off here with a thank you. Thank you for telling me this. Thank you for letting me know that I have made a difference. I don't exactly have a sense of self for this knowledge to fall back on (a rather unfortunate consequence of my disorder), but I will cherish it regardless. Despite the fact that I have always wanted to make a difference, it never crossed my mind that I may actually reach that goal one day.

I'm glad my writings have helped you.

#answered ask #alex answers #thanks for the ask!#psychology

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hoshalicious · 2 years ago

Text

vernon — friends to lovers

genre: fluff with a bit of angst

possible trigger and content warnings : mentions of family (mothers and family in general), abandonment (the angsty part), kiss at the end

wc: 1.1k

a/n: wish i could explain why i think i’ll come back to writing full time and then i stop for a year so i’m not going to promise anything but i will try to write more <3

you had met vernon on your first day of school, ever. your teacher had set you next to each other

since that day you both had been inseparable

you both were around each other so much that even your family had become besties

every single year you had always been in the same classes

you had always matched for halloween and gotten each other “platonic” gifts for valentines day

the older you got, the more it just felt natural to be with him

your family would always tease with “when are you guys finally going to get together”

you both made a weird look whenever the question was asked because why would you both want more with someone who was your best friend?

you would

since the first time that question was asked, you had slowly started to realise your feelings for vernon

you were in love with him, you winced, wondering how you let yourself feel that way

when you fully came to that realisation, you started distancing yourself from vernon

it was never easy but it got more manageable

helping your mom (forcing your mom to need help), getting a lot more serious with your studies so you could always say you needed to study instead of hanging out

several months of doing things like this and now, you only see vernon in class

he sits near you, but neither of you talk

it is time to apply to university, and you apply to the university that is rival to the one vernon had always wanted to get into

you thought to yourself, “there is no way i’ll see him there”

and you were right, for four years, you had not seen a glimpse of the one who you once saw your life with, not even when you went home for breaks

and during that period, it was easy. you didn’t search for him anymore, you no longer had to think of him holding you to fall asleep

the whole transition for vernon was hard at first

avoiding him out of nowhere, going to his rival school (low blow), and not even acting like there was an ounce of you that missed him

he had spent several nights wondering what he did wrong? what could it have been? was it something he said or something he did? did you just get tired of him?vernon had sulked over these questions for months, until he thought that if you didn’t care, then neither did he

during those four years of university, he too had stopped thinking of you

now you both have graduated, and you’re not sure where to go

vernon knew he would always stay home, and you knew that

and so did your mom, so she suggested you come home for a while until you decided what to do

although your mom didn’t really suggest anything, more of a command in the form of a suggestion. but you knew her, no getting out of that

although you and vernon had stopped being friends, your mom and his family had not. so they decided that if university didn’t fix anything, they’d fix it themselves

so this is how you are at your dining table sitting across vernon, while the rest of your family sits across from his.

you have never felt so nervous in your life, you hadn’t seen him in years

he had matured a lot over the time spent at university, and it had done him well

his voice had mellowed out and his features had become a lot more sharper

and you realise you are thinking of him in the way that you were so afraid of doing

after you eat and make small talk with everyone (but vernon) you excuse yourself from the table

“i apologise for having to leave a bit abruptly, but i have something to do and i’m afraid i cannot miss the deadline”

you go into your mom’s painting room. your mom had a schedule of when she painted, and the room was closed off during those hours, which was exactly why you and vernon hung out in that room after hours

“thought i’d find you here” vernon said a few minutes after you initially situated yourself in your mom’s painting room

“go away” you say in a small voice, being so close to him alone making sure you are barely able to keep yourself together

“why do you hate me? what did i do?” vernon asked you quietly

at this point, tears are running down your face but you are able to still talk clearly at this point. “you didn’t do anything”

“so you hate me? i had to have done something? no one ghosts their bestfriend of thirteen years over nothing. it is okay that you don’t want to be my friend anymore but i deserve an explanation and i wont leave until you give it. it is only fair to me” vernon says, starting out with a slightly raised voice and ending with a softer tone

“i promise i don’t hate you and the only thing you did that made me ghost you was because you made it so easy to fall in love with you” you said, sobbing now, yourself not being sure if he could understand you

“you stopped talking to me because you fell in love with me?” he asked and you nodded, now embarrassed

“if i stopped talking to you when i fell in love with you then i think you wouldn’t have heard from me after our very first day of school” vernon says while laughing

“what…?” you say to him not expecting that turn of conversation

“yes, i fell in love with you since the moment i first saw you. i know that coming from me when i was five, but i always knew you were the one i wanted to spend the rest of my life with”

“i don’t think i ever noticed. i was so afraid to mess something up” you told him, your tears starting to dry now

“i mean i did make it as obvious as possible” he said has he playfully knudged you

“i guess i really am oblivious aren’t i” you asked now laughing

“yes but that is why i love you, my little oblivious one” vernon said while smiling

“so like i know you were crying like eight minutes ago but i’ve been waiting almost nineteen years to kiss you, when do you think would be the best time” vernon asks while puckering up

“now would be good i think” you say, a little nervous

vernon then leans in and closes the space between you both in a warm and chaste kiss

as you pull away from vernon you say “im never going to leave you again”

“good, but can we at least talk about the madness behind you applying to my rival school on purpose, i mean, come on!!!!!” vernon says dramatically

and at this moment, you know that this man is your forever person.

-daisy, 06/03/2023

#kpop #seventeen #svt #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #vernon seventeen #vernon imagines #svt hansol #vernon fluff #hansol fluff #seventeen friends to lovers #seventeen angst #hansol angst #vernon angst #vernon friends to lovers #vernon x reader

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yuriko-mukami · 6 months ago

Text

Her Calamity Maniac Prologue

Beta reader: @ruki-mukami-dl

A/N: It's so nice to be back with this story. I still struggle with the language at times and I feel like there is still a lot to learn... but writing is a journey, so it's alright. And I simply need to tell this story, so I keep going with it. I hope you can enjoy it as well. Always feel free to like, comment and/or reblog. I truly appreciate it. 🩵

Chapter Selection

⚠️ WARNINGS ⚠️

This story includes themes that can be triggering. The content has traits similar to those of Diabolik Lovers' games. By reading forward, you accept that the story is meant for people who enjoy dark romance with scenes intended for adult readers. There won't be further warnings, so if you aren't a fan of these types of stories, DO NOT READ.

TW & CW: Toxic relationship behavior, bullying, captivity, sex, violence, blood, biting, various kinks, and probably something else too.

Chapters with sex tagged with #steamytimes and chapters with either toxic content or violence tagged with #lurid lilies.

How many mornings will there be? Will the night ever end? Ah, coming apart, reaching the sky! White flowers scatter around me *

— Vanilla by Gackt

“Ready for another semester?” Ruki’s words brushed against Yuriko’s ear. The night had fallen, yellowish light illuminating the school building when the couple stepped out of the limousine.

Nodding, Yuriko straightened the hem of her new skirt. The black fabric slid perfectly over the baby pink petticoat she had fallen in love with the instant she had seen it. A deep burgundy cardigan embraced her body, complimenting the pink dress shirt.

Thinking about her outfit made Yuriko peek at Ruki’s. She still remembered the relaxed, almost rebellious manner he had sworn his uniform last semester. But now, when the summer was taking its last breaths, something had changed. Even though the hem of Ruki’s shirt still hung loosely, the general impression was much tidier than in the spring. Much more Ruki-like. His uniform matched the way he wore his casual clothes.

I wonder… Yuriko shifted. …what exactly was the reason for him to dress so sloppily earlier…? While pondering, Yuriko lifted her hand, tugging the inky ribbon that was tightened around her neck. While it was beautiful, it compressed her throat… Kind of… It wasn’t actually even touching her skin, yet she could feel the strangling sensation.

“Turn around.” Ruki’s hands grabbed Yuriko’s shoulders, forcing the movement. She stumbled, blinking.

“Eh? What is it, Ruki?”

“You pulled this again…” Hastily, Ruki lifted his hands and started to fix Yuriko’s ribbon.

Frowning, Yuriko gazed at Ruki. “But it feels like squeezing my neck when it’s put neatly…”

Ruki’s brow tilted up. “Is that so?”

“Mhm…” The need to snake a finger under the strap of the ribbon grew stronger but Yuriko kept still, not wanting to annoy Ruki.

“Do tell me why you enjoy my digits wrapping around your neck, clenching it, but you cannot stand a simple accessory.” Ruki’s voice was a mere whisper, yet the heat coursed to Yuriko’s cheeks.

“Umh…” She shifted, averting her gaze. “It… it’s different… then…”

“Perhaps your master should train you with a collar so that you can handle your school uniform without trouble.” Ruki chuckled as he finished with the ribbon, straightening in front of Yuriko.

“Ehh?!”

“You like that thou—?”

An abrupt squealing filled the air, drowning Ruki’s voice. “Oh! It’s Kou-kun!”

“Hey, Kou-kun!” Voices carried over the yard, and suddenly there was a swarm of girls heading closer. “You never believe what happened during the summer!”

“Out of my way!” A shoulder bumped against Yuriko’s, making her stagger. But before she met the ground, a strong arm had already secured her.

“Let us go to the classroom. It is turning crowded here.” Ruki shot a glance at Kou who was grinning, greeting his fans while Azusa and Yuma sneaked around and headed toward the school building.

Taking Ruki’s hand, Yuriko beamed. “Yes, let’s go. I can’t wait for the classes.”

“Now, that is what I wanted to hear.” Ruki began to walk. “You are such a good girl.”

I watched as Yuriko ran her fingertips along the shelf in the school’s library, searching for the right title we would need after the lunch break in the last class of the night.

“It’s so nice to be back.” Yuriko’s voice bounced through the room. Following right after her heels, I kept my eyes on her. If I had known that we would need the book for our literature class, we could have brought the first edition from home. But the teacher had failed to inform us beforehand, and now there were too many third-year students in the usually peaceful space, searching exactly the same book we were after.

Knowing already, where we could find the tome, I pressed my hand on the small of Yuriko’s back and guided her in the correct direction. “You enjoy your time here?”

“Mhm, yes. Nothing is better than spending time in a library…” Yuriko was mumbling, her eyes fixated on the book backs.

Nothing? While I agreed that the libraries were one of the most joyful places to spend time in, I could come up with even more pleasant activities, especially when those involved my angel. A chuckle rumbled up my throat. Sometimes, Yuriko was still innocent even though I had pulled her into this endless night full of monsters. “Do you remember our fateful meeting here~?”

Yuriko did not respond, yet I could distinguish how her muscles tensed slightly. And oh, how I enjoyed the rosy flare that covered her porcelain cheeks. She arrived at the shelf that held the tome we were searching for. Leaning forward, I picked up the book and stuffed it into my school back for checking it out later. “There is something else, I wish to have before we go. Walk forward.”

I could not help but admire how Yuriko obeyed without a question. She had always been so easy to handle, like perfect prey. Yet had she had become so much more, but sometimes I missed the excitement of the hunt. Now, the opportunity was excellent since she had already finished her meal, we had gotten the book, and still had time to spare before the bell.

Leading Yuriko in the darkest part of the library, I watched her every move. She stopped as she met the corner, and I spun her around. “You did not answer your master’s question.”

“Eh?”

“Do you still remember our fateful meeting here?” I locked my gaze with the teal that almost disappeared as her pupils widened and the color on her face deepened.

“It… it wasn’t the first time… I saw you…”

A smirk jumped on my lips. “Is that so~?” I traced Yuriko’s bottom lip with my thumb. “Do tell me more.”

“I… I mean… I noticed you in the classroom already… The book you were reading… and the way you looked like…”

“And how was that?”

Yuriko gasped, murmuring something that sounded like ‘trouble’. Leaning closer, I pressed my palm against the bookshelf right next to her head and allowed her to see the tips of my fangs. “I gave you trouble, did I not?”

A swallow made Yuriko’s throat vibrate and burned mine. The ache was always there when I was with her, the urge to pierce her skin and suck her delicious liquid of life into me. “Answer me.”

“You… you did…”

Pushing my thumb on Yuriko’s lip, I nuzzled her hair and nudged it off her ear with the tip of my nose. Her feral scent greeted me as I inhaled right next to her earlobe. Her blood was gushing in her veins, luring me in, inviting me to take the bliss I yearned for. This demonic fluid of hers was enough to drive a Vampire insane.

“And… would you like to have more trouble?” I made sure she was the only one who could hear my words by caressing her ear with my lips as I allowed them to slip out.

A gasp against my thumb. Such a perfect answer. I slid it between her lips, sinking it into her wet cavern. Her tiny tongue met it with a flick that made me think something else. But I should delay that need for later times.

However, the more urgent one…

“Your master is about to have his lunch.” I kept my mouth against Yuriko’s ear as I spoke. “If you have objections, you should voice them out right now.”

“I… I… have… no… such…” Yuriko’s words came out with difficulty as I teased her tongue.

“You truly know how to please your master.” I hustled Yuriko against the bookshelf with my body, tracing her ear with my nose until I reached the column of her neck. Quiet thumping thrummed through her skin as her blood flowed in her veins, calling me. I followed her skin with my tongue, searching for the perfect spot, enjoying how the buzzing sound got faster and how her scent turned thicker by the second.

“I will prey on you tonight,” I whispered against Yuriko’s skin. It was amusing how my words made her draw breath. Waiting for a moment, I watched her. Would she voice out our agreed word? Deny my wishes, for this place was inappropriate?

Yuriko shifted as I moved my thumb in her mouth. “...umh…”

It was impossible not to smirk. She pleased me very well. “I hunt you down and eat you alive.” A promise I would give her over and over again. She would always be my prey and my angel, my good girl and my naughty little thing in the same package.

Opening my mouth, I scraped the delicate skin, enjoying the moan that vibrated on my thumb. “Suck it like a good girl and your master will give you a reward~”

“...ungh…” Yuriko’s whimper was such a bliss to hear, but even more charming was the soft tongue that curled around my finger with her suckles. Fuck, I wished I could stuff something else into her mouth.

But now was not the time, so instead, I allowed my fangs to sink through her skin, breaking the throbbing vein and letting the hot liquid gush into my mouth. It filled my senses with its aroma, thrilling my brain like I was fed a drug made directly for me. Sucking the blood, I replaced my thumb with my index and middle fingers in Yuriko’s mouth, blocking her moans with them as she quivered between my body and the shelf.

“...more…” I sucked harsher, enjoying every little drop that coated my tongue. Usually, I was not fond of sweet things, but Yuriko’s blood made an exception. It was thick and rich, full of taste and it only turned more nectarous as she took in my fingers, making wet little noises that painted pictures in my mind. In her as well, I could tell when her scent changed more feral and condensed with lust.

In that instant, another smell hit my nose. Death. Not the kind of scent that lingered around the Vampires but the other types of undead beings. One that I had become familiar with, more than I would have cared. The smell of the zombies.

“Ohhh! Yuri-Yuri, keep that face! I need to capture it with my phone!”

Yuriko whined, tensing all over. Sighing, I pulled my fingers out of her mouth and my fangs from her skin, licking over the bite marks. “Later. Your master is not done with you.”

After fixing Yuriko’s hair, I turned around. “Elizabeth Virnien, I would recommend putting that phone away if you do not wish to lose it. And if you already took a photo, you are to delete it.”

The glimmering died from the girl’s eyes. “But…”

I stared at the tiny zombie as icy as possible. She might be Yuriko’s friend but that did not mean she was free to do whatever popped up in her mind.

“Haa… okay…” Puny digits flew on the screen of the phone, and soon after, the device disappeared from my sight.

Yuriko sneaked next to me and was about to step forward, but I wrapped my arm around her waist, holding her there. She was still radiating the intoxicating aroma of love and lust which I wished to indulge deeper, but it was clear that the peace we had stolen during our lunch break was now over.

“Eli-chan, it’s so nice to see you again.” A genuine smile as if Yuriko was not bothered by how her friend had just disturbed our private moment. “How have things been? Is everything okay with Shin?”

So easily the name of the Founder dropped from Yuriko’s lips. Again, I was reminded of the agreement I had made with Tsukinami Shin for the sake of my love. Had it been a mistake? Karlheinz-sama was rarely wrong – if ever – and that meant I had played on both sides while I should have been faithful to him.

But for Yuriko’s sake, I was willing to flex the rules, cross the limits. I would do anything for my great benefactor, but I wanted to keep this one love for myself. No matter what could come our way. I would always fight for Yuriko.

Elizabeth roamed closer, a smile now lingering on her face. “Everything is good. I’m actually happier like this, Yuri-Yuri.”

“Then I’m happy for you, Eli-chan!” Yuriko beamed by side. “Is he treating you well? He never got back to me when…” Her voice trailed off.

“When?” The question left my lips at the same moment as Elizabeth’s.

Yuriko shook her head, making her curls dance around her face and giving me innocent eyes. “Oh… nothing…”

“Now, you’re lying. You know, you’re a terrible liar.” Elizabeth crossed her arms over her chest and stared at Yuriko.

I pressed Yuriko a little closer. “I have to agree with Elizabeth on this one. Do tell us what this is about.”

“Umh…” The rosy blush returned to the porcelain cheeks, but for once I was not pleased with it. Yuriko averted her gaze, now glancing at her shoes. I could hear how her heart thrummed against her ribcage while the sour scent of nervousness spread around us.

I grabbed her chin, lifting her face again. “Speak up.”

“It… It’s nothing… I just texted Shin during the summer… since I was worried about Eli-chan… But he never responded.”

Elizabeth’s eyes bulged. “You texted him behind my back?”

I frowned. “Correction, you texted that Founder behind your master’s back?”

Yuriko practically squirmed in my grasp. I did not like this at all. My familiars had missed such a detail, so had my brothers, for no one had mentioned it to me. Even Yuriko had kept it secret.

“I didn’t mean anything bad with it, I swear!” Teal in Yuriko’s eyes started to pool; she was shivering. “I was just so worried! Eli-chan had those punctual marks on her skin… and… and… I have… bad experience… with the… Sakamakis… so… I didn’t want… anything to happen to her. I meant to hurt neither of you. I’m sorry! Please, forgive me!”

“Yuri-Yuri…” Elizabeth closed the distance between us and took one of Yuriko’s hands. “I’m not that mad at you. But it wasn’t your secret to tell.”

“Please… don’t abandon me for it…” Yuriko’s voice turned into a quivering whisper. I squeezed her against me, not minding that Elizabeth was still linking their fingers. “I… I… can’t lose you two… just because I did something stupid…”

“I’m not abandoning you, Yuri-Yuri. You’re my best friend forever.”

“You know that I will never let go of you. So, stop this nonsense.” I stroked Yuriko’s side. “I do not like that you send messages to other men while I am away, but no matter what you do, I will not shove you aside. You belong to me. Forever.”

The silence wafted between us all. Elizabeth gazed at Yuriko but suddenly her eyes met mine, radiating determination. “I guess we’re stuck being friends forever then, Ruki.”

“It would seem so, Elizabeth.” The words came out of my mouth slowly. When I had redeemed Yuriko for myself, I had signed up for much more than I had imagined. But I had sworn to keep her tears away. Even though I had failed once more, I would make her happy. And for that, I was willing to let this glimmering-eyed zombie into my life. “But no sneaking photos of the situations that are not meant for your eyes the begin with.”

“I… I promise…” Elizabeth mumbled, and I could practically taste her disappointment in the air surrounding us. I did not understand why she was curious about such matters, for she must get her share of bites daily.

“Now, did you have something you wanted to share with Yuriko or was there another reason why you are here?” I wished to turn the course of this conversation, for it seemed to make Yuriko sad, and for that, I hoped for good news from Elizabeth.

“Oh, yes, yes! I wanted to tell you both that I was transferred to a special class from my own. So, I’m not studying with the first years.” Elizabeth beamed instantly. “The only sad part is that I’m not in the same classes with Subaru anymore… but I get to spend a lot of time with Shin~”

Yuriko swiped the corners of her eyes and flashed a smile to her friend. “That’s perfect, Eli-chan! I’m so happy!”

Another lie, but that was probably on Elizabeth and me. I had not expected Yuriko to react so heavily to our questions. This was probably something I should pay more attention to in the future.

“You know…” Yuriko continued talking to Elizabeth. “Ruki and I need to go, so… I’ll text you in the morning and we can talk more about it.”

“Yeah, see you, Yuri-Yuri!” Elizabeth waved her hand but then placed both of them on her waist. “And if you don’t text me, you have to buy me a basket full of sweets!”

“I’ll make you a meaty dinner as soon as you can come to visit!” Yuriko giggled but there was still hollowness in her voice. Paying a final glance at the zombie, I tried to make my smile look genuine. “I will make it if it comes to that.”

* Translated by me Original lyrics Ah いくつ朝を迎えれば Ah 夜は終わるのだろうか Ah 空に散りばめられた Ah 白い花にかこまれていく

#yuriko's story #yuriko tsukino #ruki mukami #dialovers oc #diabolik lovers fanfic #elizabeth virnien

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