#Introduction to Power Conversion

[sciderman]

Sorry, I was not aware 😔 I forgive u tho, tea is pretty good ig

thank you! we didn't invent it, we stole it

[baekuras]

I have finally, hundreds of years after everyone else, started playing Dragon Age....2

(the first one didn't run with sound and i wasn't in the mood to fix it because i was cranky today okay-another time...i will get context eventually don't worry i have at least 2 braincells w/ me)

and the main thing I noticed is

Every companion sure knows how to make a fucking entrance huh?

[struggling-with-drivers]

Under the Opulence - Max Verstappen

⋗ Pairing - Max Verstappen x Reader

⋗ Summary - Your family isn't kind to you, and in fact, they all think Max would be a much better fit for your sister. Max likes to differ.

⋗ Word count - 3.4k words, hurt/comfort

⋗ Masterlist - This has been finished for some time, but I've only gotten around to given it a name Feedback and reblogs are appreciated

The grandeur of your family's foyer, adorned with polished marble and intricate chandeliers, set the stage for Max’s introduction to the world you came from. As you and Max entered, the echoes of your footsteps reverberated through the opulent space, the air charged with excitement and anxiety, but most noticeably on your side, dread. 

Gabriella, your sister, emerged from an adjoining room, her presence demanding attention. With her radiant smile and effortless poise, she seemed to glide into the scene like a queen entering her court. She was the star of the family, the golden child who effortlessly commanded attention and adoration. With her striking looks and sharp intellect, she had always been the one to effortlessly charm anyone who crossed her path. Even your past romantic interests had succumbed to her allure, leaving you with the bitter taste of never good enough.

"It's okay, we're sisters," Gabriella would nonchalantly reassure you. "They weren't good enough for you if they wanted me more."

Her eyes, adorned with an air of confidence, locked onto Max, acknowledging his presence with a subtle yet unmistakable hint of curiosity. Bluntly scrutinising Max, she drank him up with her eyes, then she battered her long eyelashes a few times before slotting into the role of the perfect twin sister.

Max, a bit taken aback by the unexpected encounter, met Gabriella's gaze with a polite smile. That was all your sister needed before stepping forward, presenting her hand gracefully, a subtle gesture that belied the underlying power dynamics at play. Max, being the gentleman he was, reciprocated the greeting with a warm shake. However, as the customary exchange lingered for a moment longer than expected, you felt an unspoken tension building. 

“Gabriella, but you – my dear – can call me Gabbie.” Her voice sang in the foyer, bouncing so wonderfully off the walls. You wanted nothing more than to leave. Their hands were still intertwined. 

Instinctively, you began to withdraw your hand from his left, realising that you were caught in an awkward silence. Gabriella's grip on Max's hand tightened imperceptibly, and you hesitated for a split second, torn between asserting yourself and avoiding a confrontation. Finally, you reluctantly released Max's hand, a subtle concession that felt like surrender.

However, your parents made their grand entrance, drawn by the commotion in the foyer.

Gabriella finally let go of Max. She stepped back, allowing a brief respite from the charged exchange. 

Your mother, an elegant woman with an air of sophistication, approached with a warm smile. "Oh, there you all are! We were starting to wonder when you'd make it to the heart of the festivities."

As she spoke, her eyes lingered on Gabriella and Max, a subtle but knowing gleam in her eyes. It was as if she sensed the unspoken currents beneath the surface. Your father, a more reserved figure, stood beside her, observing the scene with a discerning gaze.

"Mom, Dad, this is Max," you introduced, trying to steer the conversation away from the palpable tension that lingered.

With an air of practised nonchalance, Gabriella returned her attention to Max, a playful smile gracing her lips. "Well, Max, it's a pleasure to finally meet you. I've heard so much about you," she purred, her words leaving an ambiguous trail of intentions.

She tried to grasp his hand once again, but instead, he started helping you out of your coat to keep his hands busy.

Max, still wanting to leave a good impression, responded with a friendly smile. "Likewise, Gabriella. Your sister here has spoken highly of you too," he said, casting a glance in your direction, before he extended a polite hand toward your parents, exchanging pleasantries as he tried to steer the conversation towards the two newcomers in the foyer. 

Gabriella subtly positioned herself beside him, a silent claim reaffirmed. The atmosphere remained charged, your parents seemingly ignorant of the intricate dynamics playing out before them. The dreadful feeling returned to you as your mom made eye contact with you once more. You averted your eyes.

Gabriella, seizing the opportunity, looped her arm through Max's, as if marking her territory. "Max, let me give you a tour of this magnificent place. There are so many things you haven't seen yet," she exclaimed, her tone holding a mixture of innocence and mischief.

Your heart sank as you watched them disappear into the lavish corridors of your family home.

“Let them go, honey. I’m sure he will be quite interested in our family’s history.” Your mother commented, foregoing the formality of any other type of recognition or greeting to you as she and your dad disappeared after Gabriella and Max.

Leaving you on your own in the opulent foyer, you wished to leave once more.

Determined to regain some semblance of composure, you wandered into the adjacent parlour, a room adorned with plush furniture and rich tapestries. The soft glow of antique lamps cast a warm ambience, but even the comforting setting couldn't dispel the growing unease. You settled into a chair, the plush upholstery offering little solace for the whirlwind of emotions swirling within. The room seemed to close in on you as you anxiously waited for Max and Gabriella to return. The dreadful feeling intensified with every passing moment, and your mind raced with unsettling thoughts.

Finally, the door swung open, and they entered the parlour. Gabriella's laughter echoed through the room. Max wore a polite smile, seemingly having enjoyed the tour, but you couldn't shake the feeling that Gabriella was orchestrating an elaborate performance.

"This place is quite… something," Max said, casting a glance in your direction as if seeking reassurance or acknowledgement. You tried to smile at him. Gabriella, however, continued to dominate the spotlight.

"We have quite the family history," she replied with a sly smile, her eyes flickering between Max and you. "It's a shame you won't be able to hear all the juicy details."

You forced another smile in response, but the unease gnawed at you. As they settled into the room, Gabriella strategically took the seat next to Max, her gestures and expressions aimed at enchanting him right before your eyes.

The conversation flowed effortlessly between them, a dance of words that excluded you from its rhythm. You felt like a mere observer in your own home, watching as Gabriella captivated Max with tales of the family's past, her laughter ringing like an enchanting melody.

Your attempts to engage in the conversation were met with fleeting glances as if your presence were an afterthought. Gabriella was ever so quick to recapture Max’s attention, despite your valiant efforts to seek a way into the discussion.

Desperate for a reprieve, you finally excused yourself under the pretence of attending to something in the kitchen. As you escaped the room, the weight of the evening bore down on you, and you couldn't shake the sinking feeling that this family gathering had become a stage for a performance in which you had no choice but to play a reluctant supporting role.

In the kitchen, you busied yourself with trivial tasks, the rhythmic clinking of dishes providing a brief respite from the orchestrated drama in the parlour. The tension that had followed you from the foyer to the parlour lingered like an unwelcome guest, and you desperately sought a moment of solitude to collect your thoughts.

As you absentmindedly stacked plates from the dishwasher, your mother entered the kitchen, her gaze lingering on you with a knowing expression. It was as if she could sense the turbulence beneath the composed facade you were desperately trying to maintain.

"Oh, dear, are you alright?" she inquired, her tone carrying a hint of concern.

You forced a smile, attempting to deflect the obvious discomfort. "I'm fine, just needed a moment away from the chatter in there."

Your mother's eyes softened, but there was a glint of curiosity. "Well, I must say, Gabriella and Max make quite the pair. They look so good together, don't you think?"

The question hung in the air, a subtle prod at the heart of the matter. You felt a knot tighten in your stomach as you processed the implications of your mother's words. It was a commentary that cut through the facade you were desperately trying to maintain.

"Oh, Mom, they're just chatting. It doesn't mean anything," you responded, attempting to downplay the situation.

Your mother, however, seemed undeterred. "I don't know, dear. They do seem to have a certain chemistry, don't you think? They'd make a handsome couple."

The weight of her words settled on you like an anvil, and you struggled to find a suitable response. The kitchen, for a brief moment, had been a sanctuary, but now felt like a confessional where you were forced to confront the complexities of your feelings.

"I...I don't know, Mom. It's just an introduction," you stammered, your attempts to maintain composure faltering.

Her gaze lingered on you for a moment, and then she sighed, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "You know, sometimes we find unexpected connections in the most peculiar places. And if they happen to find something special tonight, well, we should be happy for them, shouldn't we?"

You felt a surge of frustration and helplessness.

“It’s such a shame his looks just aren’t quite there, but he certainly has other features to make up for it. Wouldn’t you say so as well? Yes, a shame, but Gabriella has always been so kind-hearted. I’m sure she doesn’t mind either.” Your mother continued, before finally smiling at you. 

Her message was loud and clear, as she had expressed her approval of Max as a suitable match for Gabriella. 

Your mother wanted you to break up with Max and hand him over.

It was as though Max was a commodity to be exchanged, a possession for your sister to play with until she grew tired and moved on. It made you feel sick to the stomach. 

“Dinner is all ready, your father just put down the roast on the table.”

You followed your mother into the dining room, the scent of the roast filling the air. The grand table, adorned with fine china and polished silverware, became the stage for the next act in this familial drama.

As you took your seat, Max seated next to you, your parents strategically positioned Gabriella opposite Max. The tension in the room was palpable, and you couldn't shake the feeling that every word and gesture would be scrutinised.

"So, Max," your mother began, her eyes flickering between Max and Gabriella, "how did you find our home? Quite exquisite, isn't it?"

Max, thankfully pr-trained, nodded appreciatively. "It's a stunning place with so much history."

Gabriella's eyes gleamed with satisfaction, and you braced yourself for what would come next. Your mother, however, wasn't finished.

"And speaking of history," she continued, casting a pointed look at Gabriella, "our family has quite a rich one. Gabriella, why don't you share some of the highlights? Max might find it fascinating."

“It’s alright, I think I heard enough earlier,” Max told your mom, “I would much rather hear childhood stories about her.” He turned his head, making himself able to look into your eyes, and you felt the dread spread. Despite the way he looked at you, it did nothing to calm you down, knowing your parents would not deliver what Max was expecting to be told about.

Max's genuine interest in hearing about your childhood seemed to momentarily disrupt the carefully choreographed performance. Your mother, however, skilfully manoeuvred to maintain the narrative she had meticulously constructed.

"Oh, Max, you're sweet," your mother said, offering a polite smile, "but Gabriella's achievements are the true highlights. She's always been the shining star of our family."

Your sister, seizing the opportunity, began to regale Max with tales of her academic triumphs, artistic pursuits, and social accomplishments. As she spoke, you felt the distance between you and Max widen, a chasm fuelled by your parents' insistence on casting Gabriella as the focal point of the conversation.

Max, sensing the discomfort, tried to redirect the conversation toward a more inclusive narrative. "I'm sure there are some other stories you could tell, perhaps some that aren’t about Gabriell-?"

“Please Max, do call me Gabby.” Gabriella interrupted Max.

Your mother exchanged a knowing glance with your father before responding, "Oh, there are plenty of stories, but I think Gabriella's achievements are what make our family truly special. Don't you agree, Max?"

Max hesitated for a moment, his frustration simmering beneath the surface. However, not wanting to create a scene, he nodded uncomfortably, "Yes, I guess Gabriella is quite accomplished."

Gabriella shot you a coy smile, her triumph was evident in the subtle control she exerted over the narrative. As the conversation continued to revolve around her, Max's attempts to steer it in a different direction seemed to hit an invisible wall.

Your parents, seemingly oblivious to Max's growing discomfort, continued to extol Gabriella's virtues. The room buzzed with the clinking of silverware and the murmur of praise, all while you sat there, a silent observer of your own family dinner.

As dessert was served, Max couldn't hide the subtle tenseness in his shoulders. He glanced at you, a mix of empathy and frustration in his eyes. Despite the challenging circumstances, you appreciated his efforts to bridge the gap.

When Max tried to ask about your childhood again, your mother skilfully redirected the conversation. "Oh, Max, we can talk about that another time. Let's focus on the present moment and enjoy the evening."

Your sister, seizing every opportunity to keep the spotlight, interjected, "You know, Max, I've always been curious about your interests and aspirations. Tell us more about yourself."

The shift in attention to Max was noticeable, but it wasn't the genuine interest he had hoped for. Instead, it felt like another tactic to steer the conversation away from you. Max, his patience waning, briefly shared short anecdotes about his work, nothing he hadn’t already told to the media. However, his eyes kept returning to you, his fingers intertwined with you. As though you were oblivious to the way your sister's feet – under the table – were trying to urge Max to look at her. 

The night wore on, and Max's frustration continued to build, a silent storm brewing within him. The genuine smile he had worn upon arrival had now transformed into a tight-lipped expression, betraying his growing discontent.

Your dad had taken it upon himself to serve a glass of whiskey to him and Max, while your mother brought forth an array of finger foods and other light and savoury snacks. Your family settled around the nice fireplace in the big sitting room, it’s even more extravagant and opulent than the smaller parlour room you had tried to take refuge in earlier in the day. 

When your sister, seemingly oblivious to the tension, leaned closer to Max, her voice dripping with false sweetness, "You know, Max, we're so thrilled to have you here. It's not often we get such distinguished company." 

Max, no longer willing to play along, shifted uncomfortably on the beige couch. "Thank you for having me. It's been... quite an experience," he replied, his tone carrying a subtle edge.

Your father, still under the illusion that the evening had gone splendidly, raised his glass. "A toast! To family and new beginnings."

Max's frustration reached its peak as his eyes locked on your dad’s raised glass. Max abruptly stood up, the sound of him slamming his glass down echoing in the sudden silence. The tension in the room was palpable as he looked directly at your parents.

"I appreciate your hospitality, but I can't ignore the blatant disregard for your own daughter," he said, his voice measured but firm. "I came here hoping to learn more about her, but it seems the spotlight is reserved for someone else."

Gabriella's eyes widened in feigned innocence, a practised mask that Max wasn't buying. Your parents exchanged uneasy glances, finally sensing the budding cracks in their carefully constructed facade.

"I won't be a part of a charade that dismisses her existence," Max continued, his frustration now laid bare. "If you can't appreciate the amazing person she is, then I want no part in this. Goodnight."

Without waiting for a response, Max pulled you from the couch. As you both retreated from the sitting room, leaving behind the echoes of tension and shattered illusions, you felt a strange mixture of relief and sorrow.

Max led you through the ornate hallways of your family home, the grandeur of the surroundings now feeling suffocating. The air outside was cool and crisp as you stepped onto the front porch, the distant sounds of the night providing a stark contrast to the stifling atmosphere within.

He turned to you, his eyes reflecting a mix of frustration and concern. "I'm sorry, I didn't expect it to be like this."

You managed a small smile, appreciating his genuine intentions. "It's not your fault. Thank you for trying."

Max sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Your family... it's not what I expected."

You nodded, feeling a lump forming in your throat. "It's never been easy."

"Look, I don't know what's going on, but you deserve better than this," Max said, his voice filled with sincerity. "I'm here for you, no matter what."

As Max navigated the darkened streets, a palpable tension and heavy silence filled the car ride home between you and him. The glow of streetlights cast fleeting shadows across his determined expression, the lines of worry etched into his brow.

You sat beside him, lost in your thoughts, the events of the evening replaying in your mind like a broken record. The weight of the strained interactions with your family weighed heavily on your shoulders, a burden you couldn't shake.

Max glanced at you from the corner of his eye, his concern evident in the furrow of his brow. "Are you okay?" he asked softly, breaking the silence that had enveloped the car.

You sighed, your gaze fixed on the passing scenery outside the window. "I don't know, Max. Tonight was… a lot. I’m sorry for Gabriella."

“They shouldn’t have said any of that.” Max ignored your comment, “that’s not- even I know that’s now how you treat family.”

“I’m sorry for Gabriella.” You tried to tell him once again, instead finding his hand reaching out to tangle it into yours. 

As Max's hand intertwined with yours, a comforting warmth spread through your fingertips, grounding you in the present moment. His touch was a lifeline, offering solace amidst the turmoil that had consumed your family gathering. You squeezed his hand gently, appreciating the silent support he offered.

Max pulled the car over, letting him turn to you and gaze into your eyes.

"I know you're sorry, love," Max whispered, his voice laced with understanding. "But you can't take responsibility for someone else's idiotic words. Gabriella's actions were uncalled for, and it's not your parents should have stopped it, not… Encouraged it."

His words resonated deep within you, reminding you that you were not solely accountable for the strained relationship with your parents. The weight on your shoulders began to lighten as if Max's presence alone could alleviate the burden.

You turned to him, finally meeting his concerned gaze. "Thank you, Max. Your support means the world to me."

He smiled softly, his eyes filled with tenderness. "I'll always be here for you, no matter what. We'll get through this together, alright?"

A surge of gratitude washed over you, grateful for the unwavering love and understanding Max consistently provided. You squeezed his hand once more, as he pulled out of the ditch. 

The car continued to glide through the darkened streets, but the heavy silence had transformed into a comforting embrace of shared vulnerability.

As the glow of streetlights continued to cast fleeting shadows, you realised that it was in the darkest moments that the strength of your relationship with Max shone the brightest. And with his hand clasped firmly in yours, you knew that together, you could weather any storm or awful family dinner.

⋗ a/n - thank you for reading this, sorry that it took so long to post this one

[halemerry]

So there's a lot to unpack here but I want to start by talking about the ending and specifically about the Metatron and the calculating moves made at the end of episode 6.

Every single piece of what happened there was a manipulation technique being employed against Aziraphale to an almost brilliant degree and I'm honestly a little obsessed with what this says about the Metatron in particular.

Let's go in order.

First of all. We see him order coffee. In a human body. Something sweet and sugary. He talks to Nina and asks her about her shop name. Does anyone ever ask for death? And when she tells him no they don't his response is to say "so predictable". Our introduction to him here even when everything about him reads like a sweet old man is presented to show us someone who reads the world in terms of being predictable to him.

He then shows up in the middle of Aziraphale's existence being threatened. He immediately cuts down the threat's authority (using outdated language like Az himself would favor) and reemphasizes his own connection to Heaven. When Michael doesn't recognize him and he puts her down and then directly engages Crowley. Crowley who, to Aziraphale, has for centuries at a minimum been someone he thinks is smarter, better, more Good than these other archangels. The Metatron validates these beliefs. Crowley is more Heavenly than these archangels who couldn't even recognize the voice of God when he was standing right in front of them.

The Metatron draws attention to the fact he's in a human body. The kind of body Aziraphale has been in and loved for nearly 6000 years. He then banishes the archangels, implying their morality is in a gray space, and validates Muriel someone we have seen Aziraphale react positively to and someone outside the current power structure. Look at me, he's saying. I see and validate the little guy.

He then tries to talk to Aziraphale. Aziraphale says "I've made my position quite clear." And then the Metatron offers Aziraphale the coffee. This bartering chip, consuming sustenance, is a thing that Aziraphale and Crowley have used as their connective tissue for centuries. It's an olive branch for them. It's giving Aziraphale bodily pleasure and the Metatron implies that he himself has partaken also - a thing we know that Aziraphale has struggled historically with moralizing. He is seen by the closest thing he has left to his parent and he is having old fears validated as safe and old habits being played upon to make him feel secure

He then REMOVES Aziraphale from his home turf. Not only does he remove Crowley from the equation but he takes Aziraphale from the place that has stood as a place of sanctuary throughout the entirety of the season. The shop is Safe and Aziraphale is leaving it and he is leaving the one person who might be able to smell the bullshit coming from the Metatron. The music notably turns absolutely dire here.

The next time we see them the Metatron tells Aziraphale that he doesn't need to answer instantly. He can take his time, if he likes. All the time he needs. And then tells him to go tell Crowley. Once again bringing Crowley in as a valid part of this while manufacturing a scenario where he can't possibly be.

Az ends up in a place where he's overwhelmed and confused and he wants so badly to believe what he's being told. It's an appealing thing from his perspective! He feels off kilter like he's made a mistake in judging the Metatron. He can't even fully articulate what happened to Crowley at first and he's had absolutely no real time to actually think it through. He's running on sheer reactive energy.

The Metatron starts their conversation by asking Aziraphale's opinion. Who should rule Heaven? This is once again playing into making Az feel validated and like he's a part of this decision making process. The Metatron corrects him, complimenting Aziraphale and making him feel capable and in control. He reassures Aziraphale's bafflement. And draws attention to some traits that, while true of Aziraphale around Crowley, are not his defining traits in the eyes of Heaven. You don't just tell people what they want to hear I find particularly notable in this regard given Aziraphale spent most of his time on earth actively lying to Heaven and doing just that. But it fits into the narrative Aziraphale has built around himself, especially post Apocalypse. The Metatron then says I need you (a phrase Az will use much more painfully here in a minute).

And even after all this Aziraphale says no. He says flat out he doesn't want to go back to Heaven. He says this!!! And then the Metatron sweetens the pot. He swaps tactics. Not once has this come up until Aziraphale pushes back against the idea. If the Metatron could've gotten him without using it I have no doubt he wouldn't have bothered with it. Come to Heaven and we can save Crowley. Aziraphale loves Crowley. Aziraphale thinks Crowley is better than any of the angels he's interacted with. Crowley is Good and Nice and Kind and always saving him and now he's being presented with a way to return that. He can Forgive Crowley - a thing Crowley has always presented to Aziraphale as something he struggles with. All of these things Aziraphale has watched Crowley react to in a way that belittles himself or distances them from one another. Of course he wouldn't consider that maybe what he was actually saying is "I'm unforgivable and I don't want that forgiveness."

The Metatron offers Aziraphale a Dream Offer for the pre Armageddon Aziraphale. You can keep your Crowley. You can heal him like you have always thought he deserved. You can have power and control the people who for your whole existence has beaten you down. It can go back to how it was but BETTER.

When Aziraphale leaves he still hasn't answered. He goes and has the conversation they have. It's intense and emotional and the Metatron comes in after the Moment all casual and asks how it goes, knowing fully well the shitstorm he had just set up to get created. And then he turns around and says "always did want to go his own way" which is not only true of Crowley but framed as a bad thing despite the fact that he has just spent twenty minutes or so telling Aziraphale that he's done his own thing and that is Good. He is playing both sides of this perspective as it suits him. And then he cuts down Crowley asking questions, pressuring Aziraphale to avoid doing the same. He then proceeds to ask Aziraphale not if he's made up his mind but if he's ready to get started. He is one by one closing off exit routes to this thing as Aziraphale starts to look more and more panicked and indecisive. He makes sure the bookshop is in good hands and asks Aziraphale if there's anything he needs to take with him. Letting Aziraphale have the illusion of choice while cutting down "I don't want to" as an option altogether.

And Az, as soon as the Metatron is out of shot, tries to express this. And then he falls back right on old coping methods. The Metatron pats him on the head. Reassures that he's the right one for this. That he is Good. That his particular skillset is needed here.

It is a masterstroke of manipulation. A very dark twist on what we see Crowley do time and time again with Aziraphale throughout the millennia. Familiar in a way that makes Aziraphale feel safe. Except this time this is being used to put him back in line. It's brilliant and painful and it fucking hurt and I need a season 3 to see the Metatron get what's coming to him stat.

[a-hazbin-reader]

I had an alastor ask you can ignore this but what about an alastor x wife!reader where one day one of the readers old friends from their living days manifest in hell it can be angsty or fluffy but I just really wanna see how you think alastor would react to suddenly remembering that the reader had a whole different life before hell and before him

You're an amazing write and I wanna see your take on this, if not thats ok too !! Have a lovely day 🩷

Ooh this is just juicy-

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Alastor being sad, Alastor being jealous

Description: 👆⬆️

Look, Alastor is a smart man who knows you had a life before you met him, before you died

He knows this, he also had a life before you

A rather violent one towards the end there, but still...

But when one of your friends from when you were alive suddenly runs into you???? It suddenly feels like that previous life is coming to slap him in the face

"Y/N? Is that you?"

The way your face lights up with familiarity and you two rush to hug each other, obviously close

It makes him...feel something bad...

The conversation with your friend starts out simple and innocent enough, the two of you catching up with each other

You introduce your husband and Alastor can tell that your friend is surprised, probably not expecting you to be shacked up with the radio demon himself

He preens with your introduction, ready to hear your friend either gush about your amazing husband or shrink away in fear of him

Or at least that's what Alastor assumes the shocked look means

But then your friend mentions something about an old flame of yours and Alastor just kinda??? Gets a white hot flash of anxiety??

You get visibly upset at the mention of them, mumbling something to your friend that Alastor can't hear because he's not listening

You're scolding your friend for bringing up someone you hardly even thought about anymore, someone so unimportant in comparison to your husband

You had someone before him?? Someone you loved and cared about before you died and became stuck in hell?

Would you still go to them now if you had the choice? No, you wouldn't, he's one of the strongest demons in hell. Why would you leave him?

Because you loved people for more than that...

Then your friend is talking to him about your life when you were alive, telling him every stupid, funny, kind thing you did

Everything you enjoyed without him in your life

He's stuck in his own head and hurting his own feelings, the smile on his face painfully tight

"Alastor? Darling?"

Your concerned voice and gentle squeeze on his arm brings him back to reality, your friend having already left without his realizing

"Are you alright? You got quiet on me and that's not like you..."

And he's back to being his charming self, squashing down his ugly emotions

"My apologies my dear~! I just suddenly remembered I must meet Rosie today!"

He's gone before you can even question it, leaving you with a sinking feeling in your gut

The next few days after that Alastor is distant from you even though he's trying to play it off as being busy

Everyone at the hotel can see it and think that you two must be having a fight

You have to reassure them that no, mommy and daddy aren't fighting

He's been off ever since you ran into your friend and they brought up-

...your past...

Oh that stupid man of yours

It takes a lot of work to corner Alastor, he's stupidly clever and always has an excuse to avoid you

You however, did NOT become his wife by giving up easily

One time, he even straight up turned around and ran from you

And you almost fucking caught him if he hadn't cheated and melted away into the shadows

But you manage to catch him in his radio tower, using all your demonic power to sneak up on him

He jumps at the feeling of your arms draping around his neck from behind, feeling your lips on his temple

He's missed being so close to you, he really has

"We need to talk, darling one..."

This is exactly what he's been avoiding though, trying to get his uncomfortable feelings to go away so things can go back to normal between you two

"What is there to talk about, my dear~?"

He's pulling you into his lap, uncharacteristically enthusiastic about giving you affection all of a sudden, kissing up your neck and rubbing your thighs

You know he's trying to seduce you to get out of having to talk about his feelings so you stop him, placing a firm hand on his chest

"You've been avoiding me ever since we ran into my friend."

He visibly cringes at being so obviously caught, his smile strained, sharp teeth clenched tight

"I've simply been busy, I'm sorry if I've been neglecting my little wife..."

He's going in for another kiss, but you pull away with reluctance, you're attracted to your husband after all

You pull on his cheek and sigh, hugging his neck as you lean back to look at him

"Alastor, you know I hate it when you lie to me..."

Now he feels bad, he hates disappointing his wife like this...

"I suppose I have been a bit out of sorts..."

So he does his best to explain to you his uncertainty in your life, wondering if you've simply settled for him because you died

If you would choose your old life over him if ever given the chance, or leave him for a chance at heaven with people from your old life

He won't look at you the entire time he says this, leaning into you and hiding his face in your neck

Just run your fingers through his hair, maybe rub his ears a little, and listen to him vent

He doesn't like being open and vulnerable

"Oh darling, I didn't even know what love really was until I met you. Being here in hell with you has been more fulfilling than any life I had before..."

Not him making a little deer bleat before growling out of embarrassment, clutching you a little tighter

"You wouldn't-"

"Alastor, if anybody even tries to make me leave you, I'll kill them myself."

That makes him chuckle, leaning back to finally look at you

"Oh, you twisted wonderful wife~"

He's literally immediately back to himself after that, almost as though none of it ever happened

You're always surprised by how quickly your husband recovers

Maybe it's just because he trusts you so much, your words alone were enough to reassure him of his place in your world

You meant every word

When your friend comes back to visit you, Alastor actually engages with them this time

He wants to know more about who you used to be now that his confidence in his marriage has been restored

The dude is literally walking around like he got laid for the first time

Angel...shut up...

Holds you close to him the entire time, relaxed as he listens to you and your friend go on about old times

"Wait...you jumped out of a third story window? While being chased by a man with one leg?"

"And LIVED!"

SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TO GET TO I HOPE YOU LIKE IT

[inky-duchess]

Fantasy Guide to Creating Your Own Language

When writer's set out to world-build, language has a huge role in creating new cultures and lending a sense of realism to your efforts. A world and people just feel more real when language is involved. As the old Irish proverb says "tír gan teanga, tír gan anam”. A country without a language, is a country without a soul. So how can we create one?

Do Your Homework

First things off, you should start by studying languages. Nobody is asking you to get fluent but it's important to understand the basic mechanics of language. You will start to see certain tricks to language, how verbs are conjugated and how gender effects certain words. It will be easier to make up your own when you know these tricks. For example, in Irish one doesn't scold but "gives out to" - "a thabhairt amach". In German, numbers are arranged differently to the English with the smallest digit arranged before the tens for example 21 - Einsundzwanzig. By immersing yourself in an array of different languages (I recommend finding ones close to how you want your language to sound), you can gain the tools necessary for creating a believable language.

Keep it Simple

Nobody expects you to pull a Tolkien or channel the powers of David J. Peterson (hail bisa vala). You're not writing a dictionary of your con-lang. You will probably use only a handful of words in your story. Don't over complicate things. A reader will not be fluent in your con-lang and if they have to continually search for the meaning of words they will likely loose patience.

Start Small

When you're learning a language, you always start with the basics. You do the exact same when writing one. Start with introductions, the names of simple objects, simple verbs (to be, to do, to have for example) and most importantly your pronouns (you will use these more than any other word, which is why I always start with them). Simple everyday phrases should always be taken care of first. Build your foundation and work your way up, this is a marathon not a race.

Music to the Ears

If your creating a new language, you're more than likely doing it phonetically. Sound is important to language and especially a con-lang because you want to trick your reader into thinking of a real language when reading the words on the page. I suggest sitting down and actually speak your words aloud, get the feel of them on the tongue to work out the spelling. Spellings shouldn't be too complicated, as I said before the readers aren't fluent and you want to make it easier for them to try it out themselves.

Also when you're creating the con-lang, it's important to figure out how it sounds to an unsuspecting ear. If a character is walking down a street and hears a conversation in a strange language, they will likely describe to the reader what it sounds like. It might be guttural or soft, it might be bursque or flowery. It's always interesting to compare how different languages flow in the ear.

Writing in Your Language

Now that you've written your language and created some words, you will want to incoperate them into your story. The way most writers do this is by italicising them. As a reader, I generally prefer authors not to go too overboard with their con-lang. Swathes of con-lang words might intrigue a reader but it can leave them confused as well. It is better to feed con-lang to your readers bit by bit. In most published works writer's tend to use words here and there but there are few whole sentences. For example in A Game Of Thrones by George RR Martin, has actually only a handful of short sentences in Dothraki despite the language being prevalent throughout the book. Daenerys Targaryen pronounces that "Khalakka dothrae mr’anha!"/"A prince rides inside me!" and it's one of the only sentence we actually see in actual Dothraki.

There's also nothing stopping you from just saying a language has been spoken. If you're not comfortable writing out the words, then don't make yourself. A simple dialogue tag can do the trick just fine.

Know your Words

I do recommend keeping an actual record of your words. Make a dictionary if you want or a simple list of words you need. This is one of the most entertaining aspects of world building, have fun with it, go mad if you like. Also here's a short list of questions you can ask yourself about language in general which might help your juices flow.

[dreamisols]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ COFFEE TALK

INTRODUCTION FIC TO 'THE ART OF REMEMBRANCE'

—the rare moments of free time allow you and your boyfriend to talk about anything and everything that comes to mind... at this point, you two might as well be the third division's free podcast! —wc: 1050; fluff but mostly crack —original canon, x fem!reader, you and hoshina are just silly, hibino leno and kikoru mentions, one cuss, general pov more or less, i advocate for silly unhinged dynamics —rimi's ramble: told myself not to rush the series but i wrote this in one sitting... my summer's gonna be spent writing about this man, buckle up folks! >:]

The Third Division considers you and Hoshina as their power couple. 

Charming looks paired with commanding auras, levels of strength that no one would dare go against, all topped off with endearing one-of-a-kind personalities. Two puzzle pieces that fit as if they’re made for each other.

Everyone within the division quickly accepted and supported your relationship with the Vice Captain. And with that support comes your status as the “local love team"—an inside joke and a makeshift badge of honor (if one could even call it that).

In their defense, there isn't even any sort of competition to begin with. You two are the only couple within the division.

Every member, no matter how long they’ve been in the Defense Force, holds high respect towards both of you. They trust you with a lot of things—the wisdom you both give to your members is actually useful, and your attack combos on the field are nothing to scoff at. 

Yes, they would trust you two with their lives, and yes, the way they’d say it might blur the lines of comedy and seriousness. There’s simply one thing that’s holding everyone off…

No one trusts the both of you with coffee. 

Ironic, considering it’s one of Vice Captain Hoshina’s favorite things. 

Another inside joke is that whenever a member enters the lounge room and they’re greeted by the rich inviting scent of brewed coffee, they will be tuning in to some sort of a podcast episode hosted by their one and only dynamic duo. 

No one session is the same. Sometimes you two end up talking about some story you read or some personal experiences. Other days, it’s just opening as many controversial topics as you both can while expressing your opinions in a lighthearted debate. One time, to the division’s surprise, you two started doing a deep dive into a conspiracy theory, complete with a whole digital presentation and proven statistics. 

It’s even more surprising how convincingly well put the entire thing was to the point even Captain Ashiro listened in with interest. 

The members found it pleasant, enjoyable even. A chance to hold more conversations about different non-kaiju-related topics thanks to you and Hoshina’s exceptionally random conversation starters.

All they ask is that you guys don’t open up a topic that might get you random looks at best, or—hypothetically—get the both of you canceled on the internet at worst.   

Today was one of those days, the team figured, when you and your boyfriend step into the (initially busy) lounge with matching porcelain cups. Hibino, Leno, and Kikoru were the ones present in the room… this marks their first time listening in on the two of you rambling.

“I don’t know, Soshiro-san, don’t you think that may be a little too intense?” you made a beeline and assumed your spot on the couch right in front of Kikoru, drinking from your cup the moment you sat on the soft cushion.

Hoshina follows after you and settles right by your side, “No way!” If he weren’t holding anything, you can envision the way he’d cross his arms and huff. He mimics your movements from a while ago, taking a sip from his drink before placing the cup down with a small ‘clink!’. 

A childish pout graces his lips as he stares right at you. “If you think hard enough, I’m telling ya, dicing those kaiju is just like makin’ intricate fruit carvings!”

May the gods give the juniors strength because what the actual fuck were you two talking about?

The room is radio silent. You and Hoshina continue to glare at each other as if you’re both in a mental debate. Which seems likely enough.  

Kikoru nudges Leno’s arm to get him to break the ice and the poor guy sputters. Hibino breaks into a cold sweat when he catches the way you and Hoshina sharply look at the three of them. 

“V-Vice Captain..! (Name)-san… go–good afternoon!” Leno prays his salute doesn’t give away the fact he’s shaking.

By record, this may have to be the oddest conversation they’ve heard in passing.

You flash the three of them a small smile and Hoshina does a small wave of his hands. Not even a second later, the man beside you jumps at the opportunity to find allies for his claim.

“You guys think that slicin' kaiju is like slicing fruits, right?”

Bless your soul that you’re stubborn enough to match his energy. “If anything, it’s more like carving wood! You have to be intricate about it!” 

Hoshina looks back at you like you’ve transformed into the kaiju you were talking about, “Wood carving?! Darlin’ I love you more than the coffee I’m drinking right now, but you’ve reached a new level of insanity!”

“Comparing anything to kaiju neutralization is already some form of insanity…” Leno whispers under his breath. “Let alone wood carving and fruit dicing…” Kikoru murmurs back in agreement. 

“Aww, you love me more than coffee?”

The immediate shift from a lighthearted argument to some sappy lovey dovey confession while talking about carving patterns on kaiju may be just as impressive as your combat prowess, the trio decides. 

Hibino breathes a sigh of relief and mumbles, “Those two fit each other so well… wonder if it’s a match made in heaven or hell…”

“We’re soulmates!” Hoshina corrects him, instinctively reaching out to hold your hands as if it’ll prove his point further. He gently laces his fingers with yours before glowering at Hibino, “You also called us demons with the whole 'hell' comment. Thirty push-ups for the three of you, ya hear?”

Leno nudges his senior’s ribs like he wants to end him right then and there. Kikoru was probably devising ways to successfully kill him on the spot. Hibino’s fighting for his life, but he still manages to catch the way you and Hoshina look at each other with mirroring lovesick smiles. 

If he manages to scrape out alive, maybe this coffee talk wasn’t that bad.

likes and reblogs are appreciated, but please don’t copy or repost my work! [edited: 062424]

[jihyoruri]

❚ ❚ 𓍢 JIHYORURI 106 FM | jihyoruri 106 FM catalog for today brought to you by your very own jihyoruri! new music by kim minji will follow up next ; school!au , fluff, angst,

now playing: cool with you; by kim minji 1:35 ━━○───── 3:47 ⇄ ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ ↻ ılıılıılıılıılıılı ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▮▮▮▮▮▯▯▯

when yn first laid her eyes on kim minji, she was just amazed at how perfect the girl seemed to her.

minji wasn’t just pretty, she was effortlessly captivating, with an infectious laugh that made yn's heart skip a beat.

as class president, she commanded attention with a natural grace, but it was her confidence and charm that truly left yn in awe.

to yn, she seemed perfect in every way, almost unreal, and from that moment, she couldn't help but be drawn to her.

yn’s first conversation with minji would forever haunt her, a mess of embarrassment she couldn’t shake off, and she blamed it all on hanni.

“where are you taking me?” yn whispered urgently, the jingling charms on her backpack clinking with every hurried step. hanni’s grip on her wrist was relentless, nearly cutting off circulation, as she dragged yn down the hallway without a word.

hanni stayed silent, her pace unrelenting. yn began to wonder if the school had installed a new vending machine, because honestly, that was the only logical reason she could think of for hanni to be acting like this.

but then it hit her. they weren’t heading toward the vending area; they were on a direct path to the guidance room, a place where kim minji practically lived.

yn’s heart sank. hanni knew about her crush on minji, which meant this was going to be a disaster.

“hanni, whatever you’re thinking of doing, please don’t,” yn pleaded, her voice laced with panic.

“just trust me bro,”

without warning, hanni shoved the door open, practically dragging yn inside before she could protest. yn’s heart raced as the familiar scent of the guidance room hit her, her pulse thudding in her ears.

“minji!” hanni called out confidently, her voice echoing through the room.

minji, sitting at her desk, barely looked up from her papers. “if this is about a new vending machine, I don’t want to hear it, I don’t have that kind of power,” she sighed, clearly exasperated.

hanni rolled her eyes. “actually, i’m here to introduce you to someone. remember how you said you needed a vice president? well, i’ve got the perfect candidate for you.” hanni gestured dramatically toward yn, whose face was quickly turning bright red.

minji finally looked up, her eyes landing on yn for the first time. surprise flickered across her face, and she slowly took yn in, her gaze lingering a moment longer than yn expected. “her?” minji asked, her voice soft, curiosity laced in her tone. “do you really think she'd be a good candidate?”

yn's throat went dry. this was her chance. she opened her mouth, but no coherent words came out—just a nervous jumble of sounds. “I, uh… I mean… maybe? I don’t—well, i’m not—”

she could hear hanni’s quiet snickering.

minji’s lips quirked up into a soft smile, clearly amused by yn’s flustered state. “that’s adorable,” she said, her voice gentle. “welcome, vice president.”

the start of the school year had been a whirlwind for yn. after what hanni thought was an hilarious awkward introduction, she and minji had spent months side by side as class president and vice president.

they became inseparable, studying together, planning school events, and even hanging out on weekends. minji’s playful teasing and lingering looks made yn's heart race, and more than once, yn felt like there might be something more between them.

but just when things were starting to feel real, yn’s close friend outside of hanni chaeyoung, threw a wrench into her thoughts.

“yn,” chaeyoung began hesitantly one afternoon, her cheeks turning pink as she twirled a strand of hair nervously. “I… I need to tell you something.”

yn looked up, curious. “what’s up?”

chaeyoung bit her lip, glancing away before taking a deep breath. “I kind of have a crush on someone. like, a huge crush.”

yn smiled, leaning in with a playful nudge. “really? who is it? do I know them?”

chaeyoung nodded, her blush deepening. “yeah, you… you know her really well.” she hesitated, then murmured, “it’s… it’s minji.”

yn’s smile froze, her stomach twisting. “m-minji?”

“yeah.” chaeyoung’s face was filled with hope as she looked at yn. “she’s just… so cool and smart and funny. I’ve been trying to talk to her, but it’s been hard, you know? I thought maybe… maybe you could help me? since you’re close with her.”

yn’s stomach twisted. she liked minji more than she’d ever admitted out loud, but she also wanted her friend to be happy. and, after all, maybe minji didn’t really like her that much… right?

yn forced a smile, trying to ignore the painful knot forming in her chest. “oh, um… yeah. I mean, I guess I could help.”

chaeyoung beamed, oblivious to yn’s inner stress. “thank you, yn! you’re the best. I just… really think she could like me, you know?”

yn’s heart sank, but she nodded, trying to keep her voice steady. “yeah… maybe she could.”

with a heavy heart, yn started putting effort into setting up chaeyoung and minji, brushing aside her own feelings.

she arranged casual hangouts where she’d subtly nudge minji and chaeyoung together, even though each time hurt more than the last. soon enough, a class trip to a theme park came up, and yn thought it’d be the perfect chance for them to grow closer.

the group reached the roller coaster, and yn tried pairing minji with chaeyoung for the ride. “you two go together! I’ll go with hanni,” she said, but hanni immediately backed away, shaking her head, wide-eyed with fear.

chaeyoung wasn’t much better. “sorry, yn… I’m kind of scared too.”

yn forced a smile. “okay, no problem! I’ll just go by myself—”

“wait,” minji interrupted, grabbing yn’s wrist gently. “I’ll go with you.”

as they climbed into the roller coaster, yn noticed how tightly minji was gripping the bar, her face paler than usual. “are you okay? you look terrified,” yn whispered.

minji gave a small laugh, her eyes darting nervously to the towering track ahead. “yeah I’m scared out of my mind,” she admitted. “but… I didn’t want you to go alone. I’d rather be here with you, even if it’s terrifying.”

yn’s heart swelled, and without thinking, she reached over and took minji’s hand. “I’ve got you,” she said softly, and they held hands through the entire ride, neither letting go until it was over.

as the evening wore on, yn and minji broke away from the group to get some drinks. they found a quiet bench under the glow of the theme park lights and sat together, the soft hum of the distant rides mixing with the calming night around them.

“I still can’t believe you went on that ride with me, even though you were scared,” yn said, shaking her head with a soft smile, trying to lighten the air between them.

minji looked down, a shy smile tugging at her lips. “I guess I’d do just about anything if it meant being with you.” she glanced up, her eyes locking with yn’s. after a brief silence, her voice dropped, more vulnerable than yn had ever heard. “yn… I really, really like you.”

yn’s heart seemed to stop mid-beat, her mind racing in a whirlwind of hope and panic. “no… you can’t,” she stammered, her hands trembling. “chaeyoung… she really likes you, minji. I was just trying to set you two up so she could have a chance.”

minji’s expression darkened, her brows knitting together in frustration as hurt flashed in her eyes. “yn, just because chaeyoung likes me doesn’t mean I have to like her back! why do you keep pushing me toward her when I’ve been trying to show you how much I care? why do think I’ve tagged along with you to all these places with her?”

yn shook her head, her vision blurring with unshed tears. “you don’t understand, minji. I’ve been trying so hard to do the right thing. chaeyoung’s my friend, she deserves to be happy, and… and you—” her voice cracked as tears began to fall.

“and what?” minji’s voice wavered, her own tears threatening to spill over. “and I don’t? you don’t? yn, you’ve been so busy thinking about chaeyoung that you haven’t even stopped to ask how I feel how we feel!”

“because it doesn’t matter!” yn cried, her voice breaking as she looked away, her hands gripping the bench to steady herself. “it doesn’t matter what I feel. I can’t hurt her like that. she’s one of my best friends.”

minji’s hands clenched into fists, her frustration mixing with the raw emotion in her voice. “it does matter, yn! it matters because I like you! not chaeyoung, not anyone else—you! why can’t you see that? why would I have accepted you as vice president when all you sis was stutter your ass off, I thought you were cute, and pretty.”

her voice cracked, tears now streaming down her face. “you keep trying to push me away, but it’s you I want.”

yn’s tears fell harder, and she shook her head again, her voice barely a whisper. “please… just stop. I don’t know what to do anymore.”

minji reached out, gently taking yn’s hand, her grip shaky but firm. “I’ll fight for you, yn. I don’t care how complicated this is, I’ll fight for us, because you’re worth it.”

before yn could process the words, minji leaned in, her lips meeting yn’s in a kiss that was tender yet filled with a desperate longing. yn’s heart surged, overwhelmed by the emotions flooding through her. but as minji pulled away, yn’s tears came faster.

“I… I can’t do this to her,” yn choked, pulling her hand from minji’s grasp. “it wouldn’t be fair. I’d be betraying her.”

minji’s face fell, her own tears falling freely now. “and what about us?” she asked, her voice trembling. “what about what we could be? are you really willing to let that go because of her crush?”

yn’s breath hitched, her chest tightening as she looked into minji’s pleading eyes. “I… I don’t know. I just… I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

minji wiped her tears angrily, her frustration bubbling over. “and what about me, yn? I’m hurting too. just because chaeyoung likes me doesn’t mean i’m obligated to feel the same way. I’m telling you, right here, that I like you. isn’t that enough, do you like me?”

“yes.”

“then what’s the problem?!”

yn swallowed hard, her tears blurring her vision. “I can’t… I just can’t do that to her.”

minji let out a shaky breath, defeated, her voice barely above a whisper. “fine. if that’s how you really feel.” she stood up, wiping her face as she looked away, her heart clearly breaking. “let’s just… get back to the others.”

as they made their way back to the group, the silence between them was deafening, both painfully aware of what could have been, yet knowing that something precious had been shattered.

[kiame-sama]

Humans Are Extinct (Yandere!TWST x fem!Reader) Monster AU pt 16

(Azul usually only enters his full Cecaelia form when he is completely submerged in water, as it is hard to move with tentacles out if water. Azul is not the best swimmer, but he makes up for it with how powerful his tentacles are as he can actually do immense damage with them while underwater. There is a small heart shape on his right cheek beneath his eye among the natural dark coloration on his face. He doesn't like this heart very much until the Human points it out, now he thinks it is his best quality because it was enough to draw the attention of the Human in the first place.)

Warnings: yandere, multiple yanderes, platonic and romantic yanderes, bullying, the day of representatives is upon us, Malleus tries, some canon Malleus interests mentioned, unnamed students causing problems, mending some bridges, lending support, light cat vs cat conflict, Dragon, Hellcat, Shinigami, Cervitaur, Nemean Lion, Unicorn, Kelpie, mention of Water Nymph,

~~~~~~~~

This wasn't really how you had expected to spend the day. Through it was interesting at first, after the first hour you and every other companion had already become bored. Every companion except for Malleus.

"This one is a crow gargoyle, made 100 years ago. Out of all the Gargoyles, this is the only one that depicts a crow harpy as a Gargoyle, not to be confused with the crow Harpy Grotesques that line the fencing-"

Grim, Ortho, and Silver were already bored to tears after the long winded introduction to the Gargoyles that lived around Ramschackle as Malleus then moved on to the Gargoyles around the fencing. Honestly, it had been interesting at first to learn about the Gargoyles. Many had history you didn't know and it was always nice to talk to someone about their passions. Given this was the 50th or 51st Gargoyle the Dragon had introduced you to, you were a little bored.

It was while you were envying Grim- who slept soundly in your arms, the both of you atop Silver's back- you heard a strange sound on the wind. The sound was as if there were several voices shouting over one another. As you listened attentively to the sound, you heard a higher pitched cry that made your heart seize.

"What was that?"

"Hmm? That is a Grotesque-"

"No, not the Grotesques, Tsuno, that scream. What was the scream?"

Malleus paused his lecture to listen, Ortho and Silver doing the same before another high-pitched scream split the air again. Silver was first to turn and head towards the direction of the sound, your other two guards easily keeping pace with the Cervitaur. The increased jostling woke Grim who scowled and looked around at whatever was so important to draw your group away from the monotonous Gargoyles.

It wasn't hard to find the source of the sound.

"Come on, you stupid cub! You said you wanted to play, so we are just trying to play! Don't hide from us right after we start playing."

"Leave me alone!"

The crying voice of a young child made your blood boil as you saw the scene playing out in front of you. There were several students you didn't recognize- judging from their arm bands and magestones, they were from Heartslabyul- and they were heckling what seemed to be a young boy who hid in the roots of a tree. It was obvious the boy was crying and the sinister grins on the student's faces told you they had been tormenting him.

"Malleus-"

You didn't even have to finish your sentence before the Dragon acted on your behalf. Clearly the offending students were caught off guard by the sudden and harsh winds that threw them to the ground. They almost seemed ready to fight before they realized it was a less than pleased Malleus Draconia staring them down, the group scattering from the location to try and avoid the wrath of the strongest student among them. It didn't take much for you to memorize their faces, knowing you were due a conversation with Riddle and figuring you could mention their poor behavior to the temperamental Unicorn.

Once the offending students cleared out, you could see the boy better as he cowered among the tree roots. He was wearing a bright yellow shirt that had a few rips and tears in it. His hair was a red to gold gradient that highlighted and complimented his golden ears, tail, and back legs. The young boy was crying and trying to push himself further back into the roots even as Malleus approached, hissing warily at the Dragon and letting out pitiful mewls. He looked like a brighter and happier version of Leona.

"Here, let me try."

The mewling was hurting your heart more than you realized it would as you passed a somewhat displeased Grim to Silver. Malleus didn't allow you to dismount on your own from the Cervitaur's back- your leg was still injured- and instead chose to lift you up with his tail, setting you in the grass in front of the roots the child hid among. Where you wished you could have approached the clearly frightened child on your own, you weren't going to bemoan the fact now.

"It's okay," you began in a soothing tone, your voice taking on a much softer pitch, "they're gone now."

"They- They're gonna come- come back!"

"No, they won't. I can promise you that."

"Stay away!"

You frowned slightly at how clearly afraid the cub was and you shuffled closer, trying to not stress the cub further. He had several scrapes on his soft skin and you couldn't help but feel pity for theh clearly frightened child. Honestly, you had half a mind to go straight to Riddle after this and inform the Unicorn of the poor behavior shown by his dormmates. First, you had to make sure the cub was alright.

"Let's try this again, my name is (Y/n) (L/n), what is yours?"

"Ch-Cheka. My name- my name is Cheka."

"Okay, Cheka, where are you supposed to be right now?"

"Unca- Unca said I was- was 'posed to- to stay in the Greenhouse. But it- it's boring there! I just wanted to play..."

"Oh, you poor thing. I'm going to guess those students said they would play with you, but their games weren't very fun, right?"

"They weren't fun at- at all! They kicked and chased me, an-and they yelled at me-!"

The cub cut off with a loud sob and covered his face, crying his little heart out as he curled in on himself. You saw your chance to reach out and grab the cub as he cried, taking it slowly so he could pull away if he wanted to. He didn't fight as you lifted him into your lap, instead he curled against your figure and sobbed into your warm body, seeking comfort and affection after his frightening experience.

"I'm so sorry they did that to you. That isn't fair to do to anyone, especially someone so young."

"They- they hit me, an-and they said I was stupid-! And- and- and then they chased me-!"

You just held the cub and let him cry it out, rubbing his back to soothe him. He seemed like he was around five years old, maybe younger, and he clearly didn't expect anyone to be so cruel to him. Honestly, the more the cub sobbed, the angeier you became at those who dare to hurt him so gleefully. He was just a child, what kind of monsters were they to get off on hurting this poor little cub? Kids could be annoying, sure, but that wasn't an excuse to hurt and terrify them.

"Okay. It's okay now. I won't let them hurt you again, okay?"

"Okay..."

You swayed slightly to try and soothe the cub further, his heartwrenching sobs slowly dying down to sniffles as he cuddled against you. Once the cub has mostly calmed down, he seemed drowsy and low energy. It took a lot of effort to cry so much especially after being so scared.

"Cheka, Honey, where are your parents?"

"Unca is in the greenhouse... I don't know where Dada is... He said I had to stay with Unca, but..."

"Okay. Do you want to go see if we can find Unca or Dada first?"

"I want my Dada..!"

"Alright, let's find Dada. You can stay with us until we find him. We'll make sure those mean students don't bother you again."

"Okay..."

Malleus used his tail once more to lift you and Cheka up, back onto the back of the Cervitaur. Neither he nor Silver seemed put off by the extra weight of the cub. The only one who seemed angry was- surprisingly- Grim.

The little Hellcat's ears were flat on his head and his three pronged tail was lashing in frustration.

"That's my Hooman..."

As he growled, you frowned at the small Hellcat, but you figured he would be less than pleased with the situation. Cats from your world were territorial, especially the males, and now Grim had to compete with Cheka for your affections. He was clearly angry that he was relegated to Silver's arms and not yours as he glared jealously at the younger cub.

"Grim," you started with a gentle but warning tone to the Hellcat, "calm down. Cheka isn't a threat to you."

"Yes, he is. You are my Hooman and that means I should be the one you hold, not that- that cub!"

"Grim, just because we are helping Cheka out doesn't mean you're not my boy anymore. I'm your Hooman, and you're my Grimmy. Okay?"

He was still frowning, but his tail had stopped lashing as he slowly nodded. It was clear he wasn't happy with the situation but he wasn't going to be mean to Cheka either. Now, all you had to do was find Cheka's Dad- who was more than likely a Nemean Lion, judging from Cheka- somewhere on campus.

"Tsuno, is it okay if we pause the Gargoyle excursion for now? I think getting this little one somewhere safe should take priority."

"... The Gargoyles will still be here another day."

"Thank you, Tsuno. You're a good guy."

Malleus seemed to get a somewhat darker tint to his pallid cheeks, his tail curling and waving with your light praise. Cheka finally pulled away from your warm hug, looking around now at the several monster men that stood around the two of you and even at Silver, who you both were riding. His eyes seemed to train on Malleus before returning to you and he almost looked confused, glancing back and forth for a moment.

"Aunta, what are you? You smell like," he paused to sniff at your arms and shoulder, "like a weird Lizard, but you don't look like a Lizard..?"

"Because I'm Human, Cheka."

"Hooman?"

"Close enough."

"Wait, so you're who Dada is here to meet? He said Unca was talking about a Hooman that stays at the school, and that he had to go to a meeting with the Hooman. Mama told Dada to take me along too, and Dada told Unca to watch me while he went to the meeting thingy."

"Okay, so your Dada is one of the representatives. Got it. I'm guessing you're from Sunset Savana?"

"Yeah! That's Dada's Kingdom and it will be my Kingdom some day too!"

"Gotcha. Well, I know where your Dada will be come lunch time, can you wait to see him until then, or do you want to go see him right now?"

"... Well, those meanies aren't here anymore... And you're really nice to me, Aunta, so I can wait to see Dada. Just don't leave me alone again, okay?"

"Okay, I'll stay by your side until we get you back to your Dada."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

~•§•~

Leona slowly woke from a surprisingly peaceful slumber, humming as he came back to consciousness. It was nice to not be woken up for the hundredth time by his nephew. While he slowly woke a question soon floated up in his sleep hazed mind.

Where was the cub?

Usually Cheka's energy was boundless and insatiable in his desire to play, so he should have technically been the one to wake Leona. The fact alone that he wasn't in Leona's immediate line of sight put the Nemean Lion on edge. He didn't fear what his older brother Falena would do to him for losing the cub, he feared what Falena's wife would do.

That fear and concern was what pulled the Lion to his feet and began his increasingly worried search of the greenhouse. There was no trace of the cub.

"Damn that brat! He couldn't just stay in one place for only a few hours?"

Leona snarled as he began the long and arduous task of tracking the cub, following one of countless scent trails in the hopes he could find the Cub before other students did. Most of those at Night Raven College would have a field-day tormenting such a young cub, and he didn't really want to face the wrath of his brother's wife. As annoying as Cheka was, he also didn't want the cub to get hurt because of his negligence.

One thing was for certain though, he would never agree to watch that nuisance again.

~•§•~

Your rag-tag herd made their way through the mirror and into the Heartslabyul domain, Cheka looking around in awe at the many different rose bushes and the large swooping architecture. Malleus took the lead, followed by Silver, and Ortho brought up the back of the group. You were very thankful Ortho was there as he seemed to befriend the little cub easily and the two were able to talk about everything and anything.

Though you thought the cub was absolutely precious- and a certain part of your brain wanted to adopt and keep the cub- you knew he would have to go home eventually. That didn't mean you were going to let the cruelty others showed to him go unanswered, however. Trey and Riddle were both supposed to be at their dorms today, or so Ace told you, so you figured you could visit as promised and tell Riddle about those students.

It didn't take long for you to locate the Unicorn and Kelpie, both were at the Heartslabyul lake. Riddle was laying on the grass on the bank of the Lake and Trey seemed to be swimming in the water. When your group approached, you could have sworn you saw Cater laying across the Kelpie's back. The moment you called out to them there was a loud splash, and you didn't see the Water Nymph anymore.

Part of you wondered if Cater was avoiding you due to what happened with the Wolves, but you weren't going to push to befriend the Nymph either. There were still things left unspoken between the two of you. You were still injured, so he couldn't possibly face you after what he did.

"Hey, Riddle, Trey!"

You waved as your group approached the equine students who both looked surprised at your presence in Heartslabuyl.

Riddle was first to stand to greet you, but it was Trey that caught your attention. Slowly pulling himself out of the water, you saw that his typically white coat was a deep lake-green. Fins protruded from the backs of his front legs and it was clear his back legs were one large fin, reminding you of a Hippocampus from Greek mythology. His tail- which was usually a fine strands of green like his usual hair- was now stringy kelp looking fins that flicked off water.

He seemed to struggle for a moment as he pulled himself onto the bank, but the large tail-fin split back into two legs rather quickly, allowing the Kelpie to stand. Apaprently Trey wasn't just a white horse afterall and seemed to actually be a Kelpie as you knew them. It made you vaguely wonder why Kelpies weren't considered dangerous to you, as your home legends of Kelpies usually depicted them eating Humans.

"(Y/n), it's such a relief to see you," Riddle started, drawing your attention back to him, "when we heard you were injured, I feared the worst."

"So I've heard. Don't relax too soon, there are representatives I have to meet today, and apparently they will be deciding if I get to stay here or not..."

"What? Where will you go if they decide you can't stay?"

"I don't know. All I know if I have to meet with them around lunchtime. Trey, thank you again for the pastries, we thought they were delicious. Papa Hades says 'thank you' as well."

This seemed to make the two startle somewhat as clear shock was on both their faces.

"Wait- Hades? As in, one of the Seven Hades?"

"Yup. He's staying at Ramschackle for a bit."

"I mean, I expected the patron protector of Humans to take an interest in you, but I didn't think the rumors of him being on campus were true."

"Yeah. He's actually really nice. He said Trey's pastries were some of the best he's ever had."

Trey smiled at this, looking somewhat wistful as he glanced away. Honestly, he hadn't expected anyone other than you and Grim to eat the pastries, but it made him happy to know one of the Seven liked his family recipie. Maybe it would be a good thing if the Shinigami decided he wanted more pastries from the family of Kelpies. It could certainly help their profit margins.

"Glad to hear he liked them. Also good to see you, you seem to be in high spirits despite everything-"

Trey cut himself off as he realized you were cuddling what looked like a small Nemean Lion cub, his eyes wide in shock.

"Is that-?"

"This is Cheka, he's a Nemean Lion cub. He came here with his father, but his uncle- who I assume is Leona- was supposed to be watching him. We found him being bullied by a bunch of Heartslabyul students."

This made a certain dark look of anger take over Trey's features and you vaguely recalled Ace telling you about Trey's many younger siblings. No doubt the Kelpie was furious students from his dorm were so keen to bully a literal lost child.

"Point out these rule-breakers and it will be off with their heads!"

~•§•~

Leona was more than a little stressed as he continued to search, finding what seemed to be the remnants of a scuffle outside of the Greenhouse. Several scents he didn't really recognize mixed with Cheka's scent and led to a large gnarled tree. Obviously some students decided to use little Cheka as sport and this genuinely made Leona start to worry.

At first, he was irritated that the cub had not heeded his warning to stay in the Greenhouse, but if others got a hold of him it was possible Cheka was hurt. Leona didn't like Cheka one bit and hated looking after the nuisance of a cub, but he didn't want the little idiot hurt by any means. It would not only make him feel awful, but it meant the women of his house would turn on him for letting the cub wander off.

He tried to take in as much information as he could despite the many different scents present among the tree. There didn't seem to be the smell or presence of blood, so Cheka was not gravely injured before he left the tree. The only conclusive scent he could distinguish among the many was the scent of the his precious little Mousey.

There were worse people who could have found the cub and Leona hoped his Mousey hadn't gone far with Cheka. Of course, that probably meant the overgrown Lizard was with her, one of his scales being enough proof of his presence among the many. Even if his Mousey was a safe bet to leave Cheka with, he still didn't want to get chewed out by his family for not searching for the cub.

Falena wouldn't let him hear the end of it and neither would Falena's wife. There was also the possibility that Cheka could befriend the little Human and put in a good word for Leona. If the Human liked the cub, he could use the boy to get closer to his Mousey in the future. Turns out Cheka may not be so useless after all.

[theabigailthorn]

Do you think you’ll ever write a book, either philosophy related or maybe memoirs? I really love your content and your ideas and would love to know more about how you organize your worldview.

FUNNILY ENOUGH

I've been seriously considering writing a book about the way the NHS treats trans people, and more broadly about institutional pathologisation in the current global moment we're having. I've had meetings with some big publishers, even drafted an introduction and proposal, and gotten offers back!

BUT

I don't think I'm going to do it, for a few reasons. In no particular order:

Writing a book about that subject might raise the consciousness of a few folks, but does it help build material power for trans people against my country's healthcare system, and the other systems that subjectify trans people globally? Not really, no. In fact it would legitimise the elite media consensus that engaging with elite media is the path to achieving change. Books aren't just books, they're "media events," and accordingly they increase the power and prestige of the media they happen in. If I wrote this book, newspapers would review it, chart it, I'd be invited onto Radio 4 and shit to "debate" and "discuss" it... Does doing that actually help get medicine into trans people's hands? Not really! Writing books and "getting ideas out there" is pretty busted as a theory of change unless it builds power. The fantasy of writing a really good speech or article or book and suddenly the scales fall from cis people's eyes is just that - a fantasy. No minority group has ever gotten change or justice that way. All that would happen is I'd "enhance my brand" - which means that I, with my private education and privilege and opportunities, would make money and get clout whilst contributing to the elite capture of trans rights as a political struggle. I'd become "a leader in the community" and get invited to some dinners and media events and blah blah blah - meanwhile the violence continues. That media event would also enhance the brands of those cis-dominated media outlets and the "having conversations" industrial complex, who are part of the fucking problem! The struggle should be led by the poorest and most vulnerable among us and link up with other material struggles like resisting immigration raids, prison abolition, decriminalisation of drugs and sex work, etc. So I could likely do more good for my community by donating my time and money to good causes and also by some uhhhh... other stuff - let's call it 'direct assistance' - which I already do and find fulfilling.

The offers aren't that big! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Writing that book might do harm if it's co-opted into ongoing right wing attempts to dismantle the NHS and all trans care. It'd be intellectually satisfying but not creatively satisfying or fun. I'd have to immerse myself in a very bleak world for a long time: I would enjoy having done it but not the doing.

It'd ruin my career. Right now I actually fly pretty under the radar of a lot of my country's nastiest transphobes. That would end if I wrote a book about the NHS. Newspapers, editors, publishers, journalists, and probably some MPs and Lords would become very invested in tearing me down. I've seen it happen to queer writers and journalists before. Remember, Britain is a small country and our media is run out of one city by a very small group of people who all know each other and who also know all our politicians, in some cases because they're literally the same people! That book would be like kicking a hornets' nest. Maybe they'd come after me publicly, or maybe it would be more British: somebody would make a quiet phone call and I'd suddenly be radioactive. Bye-bye acting career, bye-bye any public career.

For related reasons, writing that book and doing the necessary media campaign would expose me to a WORLD of harassment and shit from some of the worst people in the universe, which I frankly don't want. That might include lawsuits.

My dream job is to play [REDACTED] in [REDACTED]. Writing a book wouldn't take me closer to that. It would cement my brand as 'trans educational writer' instead of 'actress and writer,' which is what I am.

So yeah, all in all, I don't think I'm going to do it. Not right now anyway. I reserve the right to change my mind. Think I'll write a screenplay instead!

[simp-ly-writes]

Gentle-Fellow's

─────── · · A Smosh Fanfic

Pairing: Spencer Agnew x gn!Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: You, Spencer and your fellow cast mates Angela and Shayne all star in yet another Don't Win Mario Party, Gentlemen addition!

─ · · TAGS: gender-neutral pronouns, part social media au, use of dated terms as comedy, swearing, smoking, fluff, attempt at humour, cute.

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 1,463

─ · · A/N: thank you so much for the ask, anon! sorry it took so long, had to brainstorm some jokes and scenarios but it was a load of fun! 😄

─────── · ·

"Oi! 'ello Chaps, I'm here with my fellow gentle-lads and t'day we'll be playing some good old fashion mario party, just how I like my liquor-" you began to intro to the camera before Spencer was slapping you gently on the shoulder, his body acting out more impact than you actually received but you still fell off the couch for comedic benefit as he put his shoes up on your supposed 'corpse' in good taste.

"Well enough with what that fellow was going on about, I must say we shall play. This game is better suited for a trio rather than a quartet- the same philosophy can also be said for working in the navy. Was much better to night-watch with a trio-"

"Ah yes, I do believe three-and-some is an adequate amount. I have yet to try four but it sounds you would not recommend?" Shayne leans forwards on the couch to fully face Spencer who adjusts his tophat while looking down at you, silently asking if you were okay while laying down off camera. You shot him a smile upwards, rolling over and returning back to the couch.

"Yes, I would not recommend such activities. Too many men with not enough places to go and scope out. Much better to have three, did you not serve to learn this?" Spencer asks with a tilt to his head, his top hat already falling off again as you hold back a chuckle to his playful glare in your direction.

"I in fact did serve! I was a leader, and I good one at that too. Took my whole group to one of the colonies, we had to strip ourselves of layers from how humid the climate was," Shayne clarified, pretending to light his cigar as Spencer lit his own, passing his lighter towards you.

"Thank you, gentleman," you responded, lighting your two cigarettes, wearing them like vampire fangs that had Angela near tears at the end of the couch. "I do remember being down to my undergarments at multiple points with my men, I'll have you know we were all in position within the ama-zone. Quite the discoveries we made there, so uncivilized."

"AYE!" Angela corrected, pointing a finger, her moustache slipping down her face, "I'll have you know my third mistress is from those parts, and she is the best. You mustn't make such hastily claims gentlemen, it is unbecoming of you!"

You nod your head, "yes, yes, very unbecoming. What are we? Boys like our sons? I can't remember the last time I had ashes in my lungs with that child's work," you continue as Angela agrees with a huff, the game seemingly long forgotten as you all carry through conversation, trying your darnedest not to break character.

"Ah yes, I think I have a son or two, I can't quite remember. I think to name them all William, a strong English name," Shanye comments once you all get... gently reminded to play the game you intro-ed over half an hour ago, you hoped that the editors would be able to find something distinguishable in these files.

─────── · ·

"I do believe it is your turn, gentleman," Spencer comments, casting you a wink. "My, I have seen to misplaced that powered-device. Does anyone see it?" Everyone starts to feel around the dips in the couch, Spencer was the first to stand, walking closer to the cameras from where you rolled to during the introduction bit and comes back with your controller, dipping it towards you with a bow.

"Thank you, my, you must be quite the bachelor, charming a fellow like me, oh my," you add with heated cheeks as Spencer returns to your side, his leg nocking against your own as you shout out in disbelief to obtaining a star you DID NOT want. "This is outrageous, I demand a re-play of my turn! I did not intend-"

"We must play by the rules," Shayne cuts you off, tilting his hat down as you stick out your tongue. Angela is focused on not winning the next mini game as you and Shayne continue your staring contest in the following two rounds before you claim victory. "Haha! I have trained with only the best, you can read a lot about another man through his eyes. Have you been hunting before? I love that wild look." Spencer jumps to respond.

"Yes, I must say, you really can tell a lot..." and in that moment you both look at one another. Shayne and Angela are both screaming over something on the screen but you both sound it out, lost in this little moment before realizing your both won... or well lost.

"It appear we have lost," Spencer says, emitting a sigh. "No, I would say we have won," you tease loving the way his cheeks heat up to his ears before you both return to the game more driven then ever to not win.

─────── · ·

Jokes have you all toppling the couch at some point from your rambunctious laughter, Angela is struggling to breathe through her sentence much similar to you over just how funny Spencer manages to be wearing sweatpants and a cheap half tux.

Spencer immediately went to protect your head with his arm as you all fell backwards with a large crash, the crew all gasped out in shock before your laughter only grew more boisterous. "I think I hear a little man again," Shayne comments, forcing himself upright to look over the couch as stars begun to be distributed.

Like snipers at position you all kneeled, your eyes only visible from the turned over couch. Top hats giving away your cover and you had placed second, falling back to the ground in fake shock and relief. Spencer teased mouth to mouth that had you pressing a hand to his mouth and narrowed your eyes at his large ones filled with glee and adoration.

─────── · ·

Angela had lost in the end in first place. you second place. Shayne in third and Spencer being the ultimate winner in fourth.

"FUCK!" and the video ended abruptly to quickly cute to her wearing a dog cone while trying to light a cigarette, only for them to keep collecting down by her neck.

"Thank you all for viewing our game time today, I have had the most splendid time today with you chaps, as I hope you all have ventured the same?" Shayne asks the now upright couch and cast.

"Yes, I was quite filled with delight," you replied, nodding your head and tipping your hat to everyone on the sofa.

"I do agree with my fellow gentleman, here" Spencer replies, clapping you on the wrist this time, very much close to holding your hand, your fingers interlacing while watching Angelas 'winning' speech.

"I hate you all-"

"Why that id not very gentlemanly of you, do you wish to handle these matters outside in more space for our thoughts?" Shayne rebuttles.

"Yes, I rather have a few thoughts to show you," Angela challenged, brow raised as she begins to roll up her sleeves, Shayne doing the same. Alex closes the video by panning upwards and the screen fades to black.

─────── · ·

🔔 Smosh Games just posted! watch now?

─────── · ·

Gentleman's Rules: Don't Win Mario Party (Again!)

Smosh Games ✓ [Subscribed] 👍 67k | 👎 7.78M subscribers 300k views 1 week ago only the politest of games... click to read more

1,110 Comments

username01 (name) and Spencer out here being the cutest even while cosplaying as colonizers, iconic behaviour you two!

username88 09:45 "Ah yes, I do believe three-and-some is an adequate amount" - Shayne Topp 2024

↳ username70 OMG why did I not catch this earlier LMAO 🤣 ↳ username91 or what about 20:01 " What are we? Boys like our sons? I can't remember the last time I had ashes in my lungs with that child's work..." - (name) was UNREAL for sayin' this XD ↳ username70 OMG YES! 🙌😂

username22 I don't know about you but I'm feeling like I'm ready for a whole series of just this cast and just this game. I have had this video and repeat since it's come out! Please. Make. More. 🙏

username14 Literally so in love with how gentle Spencer was being with (name), dropping the persona to held them find their controller and even making sure they didn't fall hard?? 😭

↳ username91 and did anyone notice those little winks? UGH 😩

username40 this is not good material to be eating to, almost choked from laughing so hard, would not recommend.

userame66 That little exchange about seeing into one another's eyes was so poetic, like that bit did not need to go that hard 💗

─────── · ·

─ · · SPENCER AGNEW TAGLIST: @lisiliely @missflufffanfics @little-stitious-studios @thejourneyneverendsx @sibsteria @lizzylynch1 @babble2 @delaneyburghardt @thevintagefangirl @uniquely-haunting @maricarorp

[luvjunie]

— when the dam breaks

contains: third person pov (42!miles’), no reader, feelings of anxiety, some harsh language, use of the n-word once, a one-sided fight, angst, mentions of grief, brief comfort at the end

summary: miles was holding himself together just fine, until he wasn’t. wc: 2,748

a/n: this fic is based on one of my headcanons from this post,(the 12th one). handling the grief of losing a parent is one of the hardest, most painful things to navigate, especially when you’re a teen and in school. i can directly relate to miles!42 because of this, which is probably why i’m able to go so in depth with his character. i’m really proud of how this turned out so i hope you guys enjoy reading <3

The back of Ms. Bellam’s history class was Miles’ favorite spot to sit in. The seat by the window, specifically. Where he could gaze out with the fantasy of being anywhere else but stuck listening to the lecture in his fifth block; forced to hear his teacher rave on about some old expedition he couldn’t bring himself to give a shit about.

But today, Miles was not in the back of the class.

He had a bad feeling the moment the bell rung and the projector powered on to display the newest assignment the tall, stocky woman had on the agenda; a partnered project. Which, unfortunately, meant a new seating chart was on the horizon.

Miles must’ve spaced out during the introduction of the assignment, but his teacher’s assertive voice brought him back to the very moment he was dreading.

“Cody, you’re paired with—“ Ms. Bellam pulled a small slip of paper out from a little bucket of randomized names on her desk. “—Lauren.”

She ignored the quiet groan she got after unknowingly pairing two exes together and drew two more names. “Bailey, you’re with Lucas.”

“Sarah, you’re with… Faith. And Miles,” The brunette-haired teacher stuck her hand into the bucket once more to pull out the very last slip of paper, and read it with finality. “You’re with Gabby.”

Miles lifted his head and did a quick scan of the faces around, until he met the eyes of his new partner, Gabby, who gave him a small wave from the front of the class. His jaw clenched at the realization that he’d have to give up his safe corner, since the seats around him were filled, while the one next to her was open.

“Alright everyone, if you’re not already next to your partner, go find them.”

With an inaudible grumble and something along the lines of ‘i hate this fucking class’ and a mix of ‘kill me now’— Miles rose from his chair, snatched his backpack up with a little too much force, and crossed the classroom to plop down defeatedly next to the girl he was paired with.

Chin tucked in his hand and eyes glued to the ticking clock above the white board, he didn’t know how long he sat like that, or how much valuable information he’d missed while he ignored the overly peppy, thirty-year old’s directions to the class. But he did know that the minute hand on that damn analog device wasn’t moving fast enough for his liking. The droning of voices overlapping and the bouncing of ideas filled the once silent air after instructions had been given, but Miles was far from focused on the task at hand.

The incessant tapping of his pencil against the hard plastic of his desk, matched with the clearly agitated bounce of his leg had his partner stealing experimental glances in his direction— her lips having been licked ample times from the stress of debating on whether to make the difficult decision of speaking to the boy who was clearly not interested in conversation— or even being here at all.

She spoke up anyway. “Um… So most of the other groups have pretty much chosen already. That means we’re left with James Cook, Vasco de Gama, Ferdinand Magellan, or—“

“You can pick for us. I don’t really care which one.” Miles interrupted.

“Oh—“ Gabby blinked. His response was curt, but at least she got one. “Okay then, Ferdinand Magellan.” Flipping through the rubric that had been passed out at some point, she referred to the second page with her index finger. “It says our presentation has to be between six to eight slides, which includes the works cited for our research. So we could do one introduction slide, and maybe about,” she paused to think. “Four?— information slides? And then we could add some fun facts and trivia questions at the end so we can get our class participation points in without too much effort. That cool with you?”

Gabby was a nice girl. She never bothered him, never looked at him weird when he’d come into class late sometimes, and had actually ran through the hallway to return the notebook that fell out of his open backpack just last week. He wasn’t aggravated at her, but more so at the fact that everybody could stare at the back of his head now instead of the other way around, like it was before. It made him self conscious about everything, even down to the way he was sitting in his chair. He could feel a few beams on his back right about now, and adjusted his position slightly.

Miles sighed and reminded himself to respond to her politely. “Uh-huh. Sounds good.”

A voice to his left behind him caught his attention, the voice in question belonging to one of the most obnoxious boys he’d ever had the displeasure of knowing— Ethan Thompson. Someone who always had too much to say and nothing productive or appropriate to add— it usually being something creepy or gross about a girl he wanted to ‘get to know’.

Miles would’ve tuned him out, like he always did, but this time it was impossible. Probably because out of all the conversations regarding the explorers meant to be researched, this one had absolutely nothing to do with history, or even school for that matter.

“Bro, did you hear about what happened to…”

Miles strained to hear as best as he could without moving from his seat, though it was a struggle since Gabby was still talking his ear off to the right of him about who would do what when it came to their workload.

“Miles?”

He ignored her as another voice chimed in, and his back stiffened.

“I know dude, my sister told me about it. Said he was killed in action or somethin’ like that… I just know his mom is crushed. I feel really bad.”

Miles knew people talked about this, he wasn’t dumb. But damn, did they have to do it when he was right there?

Then, there was a laugh.

Miles was confused. He didn’t find anything regarding the topic of their conversation even remotely comical.

“Fuck that,” Ethan quieted his voice, though not quiet enough. “That just means Mrs. Morales is single and up for grabs now.”

It took less than a second for Miles’ blood to simmer to a scalding boil. He held a subtle finger up and quieted Gabby, who was currently asking him about what they should research first.

“Can you give me just… one second?” he asked gently.

Gabby’s words died on her tongue and she gave a muddled nod.

Miles threw his elbow over the back of his chair when his torso whipped around, his eyes glazed with enmity and immediately catching Ethan’s.

“The fuck you just say?”

Ethan froze.

Miles’ tone was lethal, rage lifting the volume above the blurred chattering around, venom spitting from his tongue like he intended to kill the boy with words alone. The speed in which the class fell silent would’ve been humorous had there not been such hostility within the air.

“Miles, language!” Ms. Bellam’s eyes snapped up from her computer screen, her face a picture of disbelief at his unusual vitriol. He was always quiet as a mouse in her class, well behaved above all.

Jaws hung slack, the gazes of the students around darted back and forth between the two boys continuously, the tension in the room palpable.

Miles sat up straighter in his seat, jaw clenched and his patience dwindling. To say he was seething would be a dangerous understatement.

“Nah, nah Ms. B,” His head cocked, and his eyes narrowed at Ethan, ruinously. “I wanna know what this nigga just said ‘bout my fuckin’ mom.”

“Oh shit…” Gabby gulped. Today was the most she’d heard Miles speak in class almost the entire semester.

“It was a joke, bro.” Ethan huffed a chuckle, a nervous thing that his friend easily picked up on. Miles was not one to bluff, and Ethan was notorious for taking things too far.

“Don’t bro me, repeat that dumb shit you just said and watch how fast I knock your ass out.” Miles gritted through his teeth, hot air puffing through his nostrils like a bull who’d just seen red.

“Boys, enough!” Ms. Bellman was standing now, hands planted to her desk as she watched with bated breath, just like the rest of the class-now-turned-audience.

Ethan shrugged, and Miles swore he felt his eye twitch.

Strike one.

Then, the boy playfully nudged his friend’s arm with a cocky smirk, as if he thought the threat he’d just received wasn’t one that would be carried out.

Strike two.

“He’s baiting you, Miles…” Gabby whispered dejectedly, in warning, only so Miles could hear. But his tunnel vision had already set in.

“Go ‘head. Repeat yourself.” Miles demanded.

Nails digging into the skin of his palms hard enough to leave crescents in their wake, there was a voice in the back of his mind, reminding him that he could get into serious trouble if he didn’t get his emotions in check, fast. He’d progressed so quickly in his after school M.M.A classes, that now, even getting into a simple fist fight could land him a serious assault charge. A judge would take one look at the history of his intense training, and the option to deem his hands as deadly weapons in the case would immediately be presented, and most likely acted upon.

Knocking the teeth out of a rich white boy would never be the smart decision here, especially not for someone who looked the way he did.

He’d be sent straight to juvie.

“I mean, all I was sayin’ is, technically—“ Ethan threw his hands up in a careless manner. “If I play my cards right, I could be your future step-daddy.”

Strike three.

Ms. Bellam was yelling now. “Ethan, principal’s office, now!”

And that probably would’ve been the better option, had he actually had a choice.

Miles’ movements were swift when he shot out of his seat, and the students in his way followed suit with yelps and gasps as they quickly removed themselves from the area. The desks blocking his pathway to pummeling the shit out of this kid loudly screeched against the school’s tile when they were shoved out of the way, and the one he’d mindlessly flipped over in his stampede proceeded to erupt the room into pure pandemonium.

One punch would’ve been good enough, Miles knew that. But in this moment, thinking rationally was so far out of his reach he would’ve missed it even if he’d jumped for it. He’d swung a closed fist to Ethan’s jaw and knocked him to the floor with ease, then followed him down, sat on his chest and had the boy’s arms pinned under his knees so he couldn’t protect his snobby-ass face. One punch would’ve been good enough, but just two vehement blows later, the satisfying crack of a bone that wasn’t his under Miles’ knuckles had him sending a few more into the reddened face of the boy beneath him, just to really get his point across.

“Jesus Christ— Miles!” Ms. Bellman scrambled from her seat in a panic and rushed to fling the classroom’s door open, her desperate yells directed to anyone who might’ve been strolling the hallways. “We need security in here! You-!” She pointed to a student with a bathroom pass. “Go get security, and tell them to come to room 205, now! Go!”

Everyone was yelling at once, but Miles couldn’t hear anything other than the ringing of rage in his ears. Anger is only grief turned sour— a terribly perilous thing to leave untreated.

Some of his classmates were frozen with shock, or fear, maybe— hands clasped over their gaped mouths while others had their phones out with the camera app open—vampires for some good drama while they hooted and hollered at the most exciting thing they’d seen this entire year.

“That’s enough!”

Strong arms suddenly hooked under Miles’ armpits and prevented his fist from worsening the damage already done. Two male teachers from neighboring classrooms had rushed in and yanked him up and off Ethan, his hips bucking as he kicked his way up onto his feet. Miles’ chest expanded and collapsed with the weight of his heaving breaths, face flushed with the remnants of his lost temper as he directed his attention to Ethan’s friend, who looked like a deer in headlights.

“When your boy wake up, tell him watch his mouth next time!”

Miles didn’t know why he was yelling. It was common knowledge that it’s pretty rare for someone who’s unconscious to understand what you’re saying to them.

He didn’t struggle when the two teachers dragged him away, but when they shoved him out the door and into the hall with more force than he thought necessary, he snatched his arms away from their grasp with a rolled shrug, and huffed a frustrated grunt about how he knew how to walk on his own.

—

The drive home was eerily silent. The radio hadn’t been touched, and neither had Miles by his mother’s gaze the moment they’d left the principal’s office after he received his verdict.

Out of school suspension. One week.

It was the best the administrative staff could do after Rio swallowed her pride and went as low as begging them not to expel her boy.

Slumped in the passenger seat with his hands in his lap, Miles didn’t bother to look at the bruises he knew were forming on his knuckles. It was a familiar feeling, and at the moment he was more concerned with why it felt like his throat had been stuffed with cotton when he tried to talk.

“Mamá, I—“

“Do not. Speak.” Rio’s breath wavered, her hands clutching the wheel so hard she thought she’d crush it. She tried not to let her voice break. “Not one word.”

Silence.

—

It all settled in as they climbed the stairwell, the images of what just happened flashing back in his mind every time he blinked; what he’d done playing over and over again in a continuous loop. The wooden railings creaked under the weight of his mother’s hand, and as she knowingly skipped the one that had weakened over the years, he knew the home that held every single emotion he tried to leave behind when he went to school was now just a few steps up.

Rio’s key twisted in the lock before she opened the door, and Miles followed behind her, shoulders slouched dispiritedly. He resembled something of a stray puppy; desperate for attention, but acceptant and grateful that it, as much of a nuisance as it may be, was being tolerated enough to stay on it’s finder’s heels.

He thought being scolded by his mother was bad, but the lack thereof was even worse. Her brows were clenched, and her conflicted yet somehow blank expression told him that she truly did not have any words for him as she leaned on the kitchen counter, hands clasped firmly around the edge so tightly her knuckles paled. She didn’t even know where to start, and Miles didn’t blame her. He refused to explain why he’d snapped when it was asked of him. When his mother’s widened eyes had pleaded with him to tell the principal what happened in that classroom that set him off in such a way, he didn’t. He had no reason not to, at least one he could think of right now, but his voice just wouldn’t allow it. Both in that office, and now in their kitchen, dimly lit by the warm light above the stove, the weight of his mother’s disappointment clung to the suffocating silence, like a fish to a hook and he just couldn’t take it anymore.

“Mamá, I’m sorry.” He whispered in a quick breath, the lump in his throat painful when he swallowed it.

“Good money, Miles.” Rio shook her head, a hand coming up to rest over the rise and fall of her chest. “Good money! We paid good money to get you into that school, your dad and I. I work hard to keep you there and you just—“

Dad.

And the dam broke. Though its foundation wasn’t very strong to begin with— Miles’ shoulders crumbled under the weight of his actions and his tears flooded past his waterline with choked sobs that left no room for air.

Whatever Rio was going to say had been forgotten. The sight of her son sobbing in a way she hadn’t seen since the night they’d received the news immediately put a stop to her reprimanding. Now, she was truly worried.

“Oh Miles, come come come,” She hastily tugged him into a hug and wrapped him firmly in her arms, her hands repeatedly rubbing up and down the expanse of his back. “¿Qué es Mijo? (what is it, son?) Talk to me. No te lo guardes, ¿recuerda?” (no holding it in, remember?)

Miles could barely catch his breath, and somehow talking about it was just as painful as the ache that resided deep in his chest.

“I—It was Dad, it was about—“ a quick breath in split his sentence in half. “About Dad. He was—talking about what ha—happened and I—“ Miles tried for another, but it caught in his throat, ragged and choppy and had his ribcage stuttering from the lousy attempt to cease his hyperventilating. The fact that he couldn’t get his words out uninterrupted only frustrated him more; only made him cry harder. He scrubbed at his tears with the back of his hand, but it was no use. He couldn’t stop crying. Why couldn’t he stop crying?

“He said—“ Another wilted inhale, and a hiccup. “It was abo—about you, and it was terrible and I— I just, I got so angry, and I tried Mamá, I did. But I couldn’t and—and then I was on him and I’m sorry—“

“Shh, shh. It’s okay, it’s okay.” Rio used a hand to bring his head into her shoulder, his cries muffled and his tears wetting the sleeve of her blouse as his rambling came to a halt. Miles clutched onto her tightly, arms round her waist as he fell apart in front of the woman who’d tried her best to piece him back together.

“Respira, Mijo, respira… (breathe).” Rio whispered. “Please.” Seeing her son so distraught had brought on tears of her own, but she shut her eyes, and tucked away her own feelings so she could focus on his. “It’s okay. It’s alright.”

“But you’re mad at me, I don’t want you to be mad at me—“

Rio shook her head and tutted at him. “I’m not mad at you, papa. I understand. Okay? I’m not angry. No.” She couldn’t be upset with him for something like this, not when he could barely shelter himself from his own guilt.

“It’s okay. You’re okay, baby. I’ve got you.” Miles was inconsolable as Rio continued rubbing his back, and her voice shook when she spoke, but she kept the uncertainty she held within her heart concealed from her promise to him.

“We’re going to be okay.”

[just-jordie-things]

born to die - itadori yuji

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ 10k follower event special! ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

word count: 8.7k warnings: canon-typical angst and talks of death summary: itadori's fate has been sealed, and he can't bear dragging anyone down with him. especially not her. more info: friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, angsty confession rain scene, you're gonna eat it up

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[ feet don’t fail me now, take me to the finish line // oh my heart it breaks every step that i take, but i’m hoping that the gates they’ll tell me that you’re mine ]

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Itadori Yuji hasn’t always lived his life on borrowed time.  It used to be normal- as some called it.  He used to be just a boy, with an intrigue in the occult and semi-above average grades.  Back when things were normal he’d never thought much about girls or dating, not seriously anyways.  In the back of his mind he always figured the right person would come along at the right time, and he’d settle down when things worked out that way.

He didn’t know that the right time would cease to exist the moment he swallowed that finger.

At the sound of lightning cracking, Yuji flinches slightly, not having realized just how bad this storm had gotten since he’d stepped out of the dormitories to appreciate the rain.  He must’ve been out here for longer than he thought, but he hadn’t exactly been trying to keep track of time.  One thing led to another and he’d gotten lost in his thoughts, and…

“Megumi, what the hell is happening?”

Her shock was evident not only in the way she’d called out to her classmate and friend, but also in the speed at which she’d brought herself from one end of the corridor to the other.  It was almost as if she’d teleported there.  

At the time, Yuji thought maybe that was her special power.  If the grumpy dude had shadow animals, it wasn’t too outlandish to believe she could warp from one spot to another, right?

He’ll never forget the way she’d looked at him then.  For the first time.

Confusion and panic washed away for the briefest of moments, instead gazing upon him with wide eyes and a dropped jaw.  Yuji had confused it at first for recognition, thinking maybe they’d met before and he’d forgotten, but that wasn’t the case.

“Who is that?” 

“This is Itadori,” Fushiguro huffed, more annoyed by the introduction than anything.  “He’s the one with the finger” 

It wasn’t exactly the introduction Yuji would have wanted, but there was no changing that now.  Besides, as long as he was able to say that he met her, that he knew her, he’d consider that more than a blessing.  

(He always sort of had that soft way of speaking about her whenever she came up, whenever he brought her up.  His eyes would glaze over with that dreamy look and before he knew it his heart was getting fluttery and his face was getting warm)

A lot of that fateful night was a blur, especially the parts where his body no longer belonged to him, but when it came to her, it was like the images were crystal clear.  If there was a way for him to enter a memory and relive it- that’s how he’d describe the sensation.

“Is he still passed out?” A voice- Yuji couldn’t be sure if it was Fushiguro or his supposed mentor who’d shown up- asked, but it was fuzzy and distant.

“Seems so,” A gentler one replied.  This one was undoubtedly hers.  “Probably for the best that he rests” She added before he felt the faint touch of fingertips pushing the hair off his forehead.

“What do we do with him now?” It was obvious it was Fushiguro asking, and it was obvious that he was asking his mentor, but it wasn’t the older man who replied.

“We take him back with us,” She piped up, her voice holding a firmness that suggested she’d argue harder if she had to.  “Right?” 

The pause before an answer came was long, Yuji wasn’t sure if he had faded in and out of consciousness, or if the silence really did drag on for minutes.

He’d never told her that he’d heard that small bit of conversation, that he remembered the way her careful fingers had touched him with more compassion than he’d felt in a long time.  Yuji couldn’t decide if it was because he was a coward or if he simply wanted to keep hold of that precious memory all to himself.

Another roll of thunder rumbled through the sky.  Yuji lifted his head to try and make out the dark clouds among the night sky.  Without a flash of lightning it was difficult to make out, but he did always enjoy watching a good storm, even if the darkness made it difficult.

He’d surely been out here for a couple of hours at this point.  It was nearing midnight when he’d crept out of the dormitories to watch the rain, hoping for a peaceful moment.  It was peaceful, the storm, at least.  His mind had gotten foggy after spending too much time within it and he was starting to go down that path he hated.

What if I’d done things differently? Do I really deserve to still be here? How long until we find the last finger and the higher ups have me executed? 

It wasn’t your average person’s derailed anxiety.  In fact, all of the anxieties Yuji had ever faced before being introduced to jujutsu had faded away.  He’d have to think for a few minutes to recall the things that used to be on the forefront of his mind on sleepless nights.

He was certain none of them involved being executed, though.

It was only a matter of time, and he’d known that for a while.  He was quite sure he’d come to peace with it, too.  Or at least he almost had.  He was just wrapping his head around the idea of dying, but as long as he’d helped people before that time came, he could accept it.  He could die at peace knowing he’d done everything he could to fulfill his grandfather’s dying wish.

And then she came along and everything turned upside down- again, and not for the last time.

The relief between the group of four upon finding everyone alive and as well as they could be- not unscathed, but nothing that couldn’t be bandaged up- was quickly replaced by utter shock as they watched Sukuna’s mouth appear on the palm of Yuji’s hand.  There was no time to react before it was gobbling up the finger Megumi had obtained after a hard fought battle.

It’s suddenly so silent you could hear a pin drop from anywhere in these woods, everyone’s eyes focused on the skin that reappeared over the boy’s palm, each hoping their eyes had played tricks on them as the reality of the situation settles in.

Yuji wants to say something, in fact, he almost cracks a joke.  But the words are stuck in his throat and all he can do is flex his fingers into a fist a few times as he processes what just happened.

Another finger consumed is another finger closer to death.

“We won’t tell anyone about this,” She speaks first, gaze lingering on his hand for a moment longer before lifting to Yuji’s concerned expression.  She hesitates again, then turns to Megumi and Nobara.  “No one.  We keep this to ourselves” 

“Not even-?” 

“Not even Gojo-sensei” She cuts Megumi off before he could finish the question.

Nobara gave a solid nod in agreement right away.  She always trusted her say in anything, and would blindly follow her anywhere.  Megumi took a minute longer to catch up, but eventually agreed as well.  The idea of keeping such a massive secret hidden from Gojo unsettled him, but when he weighed out the other options, he didn’t like the idea of Yuji being any closer to death than he was before.

“Let’s get moving” Was all he said, but it was enough for his peers to know he was on board.  Nobara followed after him as he took off towards the direction they’d come hours ago.  Yuji hung back a few steps, not sure how to feel about everyone covering for him.

“(y/n),” 

He called her name softly, as he always did, but it was loud enough for her to perk up.  She sends him a small smile as she slows her own steps to walk beside him at his slower pace.

“I don’t want anyone getting in trouble for covering for-” 

“No one’s getting in trouble,” She assured him mid-sentence.  “And no one’s doing anything they don’t want to do.  It’s fine” 

She was always so sure of herself that it was endearing.  She was a natural leader, even when Megumi tried to form a plan, she had a way of rallying the small group up before any assignment.  Just last week Gojo made them stay behind after lessons to clean the classroom, and she’d found a way to make it into a competition that had them finished in under thirty minutes.  Yuji admired that about her.  Her spirit could be over exaggerated, but it was never phony.

Yuji was at a loss for words, leaving him stuck gaping at her like a fish, which was at least effective in making her laugh.

“You care so much for others- I really admire that about you, Yuji,” She spoke as if she could read his mind.  It had his chest buzzing in that familiar way she sparked.  She looked at him and it was like her eyes were made of the stars themselves.  “But you underestimate how much… others care for you too” 

He’ll never forget the way her cheeks had gone pink after the soft admission.

If the circumstances had been different, he’s sure he would have confessed to her right then and there.  If things were different he wouldn’t have been able to hold it back.  If it weren’t for his reality, he would have loved nothing more than to take her in his arms and tell her- well, everything, really.

It wasn’t like he was doing that great of a job keeping his heart in check.  His friends had noticed the way his demeanor changed as soon as she walked into the room.  Megumi may have wanted to ignore the subject just because that was his nature, but Nobara was happy to blurt it out one night when it was just the three of them.

“So when are you gonna address the whole (y/n) thing?” She’d barely looked up from where she was sitting on Megumi’s floor painting her nails.  Yuji had to do a double take just to make sure she was talking to him.

“... (y/n) thing?”

He’d acted like he didn’t have a clue what she was referencing, but truthfully, his heart was already racing.  He hadn’t been that obvious about it, had he?

“C’mon Nobara, he doesn’t want to talk about that yet, leave him be” Megumi had come to his defense, but only sort of, because now Yuji realized that they both knew about his hidden feelings.

Did he not hide them that well? 

“It’s been months!” Nobara barks back, ever so focused on the perfect coat of cherry red.  “He’s gotta be bursting to tell someone! Might as well be us” 

“This is why people don’t come to you with stuff” Megumi huffs.

“You got something you want to say then?” Nobara argues.

“No, I’m just saying-” 

“Then could you shush so Yuji could actually open up about his undying love?”

“Uh… heh…?” Yuji mumbled his confusion to himself, but it was enough to interrupt their bickering.  He glanced between the two with a lost look on his face, waiting for someone to better explain it to him.

“Yuji, if you need some advice on how to ask out (y/n), we’re here for you” Nobara says with complete seriousness.  He knows because she paused in her nail painting to stare him down while she said it.

He swallowed the lump in his throat- which he hadn’t been aware of until that very moment- and wildly looked between both of his friends.

Megumi, although slightly disinterested, seemed just as invested as Nobara in this offer.  Maybe he was just bored of reading, because he didn’t often follow along with Nobara’s antics unless there was something in it for him, but it was clear in his raised brows that he was waiting for Yuji to say something.

And that’s when the pinkette remembers-

“No way man!” He shouts defensively, standing suddenly from his spot on the floor.  “You’re like her best friend! You’re just gonna tell her everything I say!” 

Unceremoniously, Megumi points to himself like the statement confused him.

Nobara huffs and rolls her eyes.

“Yeah, you!” 

Yuji had his moments of airheadedness, but he wasn’t a complete idiot.  (y/n) and Megumi had known each other for a long time.  They’d trained together as sorcerers in their younger years and it wasn’t until recently that they even had other classmates.  Megumi wouldn’t openly call any of his classmates his friends- at least not until Yuji begged him to admit it- but it had been clear that the bond he’d formed with (y/n) before Yuji and Nobara’s arrival had been built on an unshakable foundation of trust and respect.

To Yuji, that made the pair best friends.  And best friends shared everything with each other.  Including secrets shared in confidence from other friends.

“So you admit there’s something to be told?” Nobara asks, raising a brow in curiosity.

“I didn’t say that!” 

“You sort of implied it” Megumi said.

“Well then I un-imply it!” 

“Not how that works” Nobara pipes back in.

Yuji groans, covering his burning face with his hands in the hopes that it helps to hide the giveaway that was his blushing face.  It was too late, of course his friends were perceptive enough to have already caught it.

“I didn’t- I wasn’t saying that I-” His stammering only seems to prove the claims made against him, but still, Yuji tries to find the words to explain himself.  Probably because there was no way to explain himself.  His feelings were made clear in his actions already.

“So you won’t mind if I set her up with the guy at the pastry shop we go to then?” Nobara asks, and before she’s completely finished talking, Yuji drops his hands, and his eyes are wide with panic.

“Guy? Pastries? Why? Does- does she talk to him a lot?” 

Nobara glances at Megumi, who’s finally cracked a smile as he scoffs and shakes his head.  He’s trying not to break out into laughter, but sometimes those two just made it too hard.

He wasn’t the kind of guy that shared other people’s secrets.  If Yuji needed (y/n) to know something, he’d tell her.  Tonight was the first night that he’d ever contemplated crossing that boundary.  Just so he could see the way she’d light up at the insinuation that the boy she loved could love her back.

It didn’t seem like the storm would let up anytime soon.  The rain was hitting the ground harder than ever.  If he were to step out from under the awning, he’d be soaked to the bone in just seconds.  Standing in the rain actually sounded sort of nice.  It might have been a relief, even for just a minute.  Or maybe a decent enough distraction from where his mind had wandered off to.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like to think about her.  Hell, so much of his time had been thinking about her that he was starting to go absolutely crazy.  Even if he knew how to stop, he probably wouldn’t have.  He definitely wouldn’t have.

The pipeline from having a crush to being full on crazy about someone was faster than he would have expected.  Yuji didn’t have an exact timeline, but he knew that it wasn’t long after meeting her that he was lost in his adoration for her.  Soft, warm, all consuming adoration.

“These are really good!” Her eyes were lit up and her mouth was full of food as she praised Yuji for the meal.  She was already reaching for another meatball before she’d swallowed the first one.  “Your grandpa gave you this recipe?” 

Megumi and Nobara, who were also knelt around the table, had given Yuji their compliments as well.  But the brightness on his face now outshined his reaction to their five star reviews.  With the wide grin splitting his face and wider eyes following her greedy movements to snatch another meatball.  Nothing zapped his heart with pure electricity like the way she did just by enjoying his food.

He’s nodding his head in a small, slow motion to her question.

“That’s amazing, I wish I knew how to make anything.  Especially something this good,” Her approval was laying itself on thick, but he knew that it was completely genuine.  “I’m honestly jealous, Yuji” 

He laughs, his face pink from the bashfulness.

“I’m glad you like them,” He says, keeping his gaze focused on the one meatball on his plate that he hadn’t even touched yet.  

He couldn’t bear to look over at Nobara, who was snickering through her full mouth.  Or Megumi, who was staring so blatantly between him and (y/n) that Yuji thought he might burn up completely if he met his eyes.

So he keeps his head down, for the love of all things good and sane, he kept his head down.

“Well… I’ll make if for you anytime you want” 

It takes a lot of courage for him to peek over at her from his peripheral, but it’s completely worth the trembling in his fingers.  She’s beaming at him, cheeks full, eyes bright, completely overcome by his generosity and sweetness.

Nobara had to lift her napkin to her face to keep herself from spitting out her food.  Megumi finally shifts his gaze to his food, hoping he’ll at least be able to keep it down with all the lovesick nonsense at the table.

Yuji would have to use both hands to count the amount of times he made those meatballs for her.  Both out of request, and by his own choice.  She definitely was treated to them the most, despite Nobara and Megumi also enjoying the recipe.

But Nobara and Megumi didn’t get them at two in the morning when they couldn’t sleep and wanted a snack.  Nobara and Megumi didn’t get them when they were sick in bed with the flu for a week.

And the two would tease him for it relentlessly.  Not only because the treatment was unfair- they wanted delicious meatballs too! But of course when they caught Yuji up at odd hours to make her favorite meal, they just couldn’t resist calling him out on it.

Yuji would fluster, but it would never matter once he finished his masterpiece and presented them to (y/n).  It was like the entire world would melt away when he was greeted with her pure delight for his food.  He wished he could learn to make something else to give her, but it had taken so long for him to learn this recipe from his grandpa, he worried he’d only mess up a new dish.

His throat starts to feel hot.  Was that tears?  It constricts until he can’t breathe without it burning, and even when he tries to swallow to relieve the throbbing sensation, it remains.  Was he going to cry over meatballs? 

(It wasn’t the meatballs) 

“I have a surprise for you students!” Gojo’s cheery voice wasn’t out of the ordinary, and neither was the little dance of excitement he did as he wheeled up a large box to present to the first and second years.

While no one held any interest, they all remained there, waiting for their eccentric mentor to get the display over with.  No one knew what to expect, but they figured it couldn’t have been important.

But then he steps aside and does a grand introduction, and even though he states Yuji’s name, it’s not until the boy is popping out like a jack-in-the-box that it really settles in for anyone that Itadori Yuji was there.  Alive.

No one moves.  No one even says anything.  Yuji’s grinning and holding his hands up in peace signs as he’s returned to his friends, but even his cheerfulness couldn’t penetrate the unsettled trance the first and second years seemed to be in.

“Uh- Gojo- sensei…?” Yuji glanced towards his teacher for some help, not having expected anything other than a warm welcome.  However, Gojo was also wincing as he took in his students’ faces.

The second years looked aghast.  With Maki’s entire face in a disgusted cringe, as if Yuji was brought back as a zombie.  All three of them seemed more shocked than relieved.

The first years also didn’t appear like they were struck with relief either.  Megumi and Nobara had gone so pale they looked like they could faint at any moment.  With Megumi’s eye twitching and Nobara’s nose wrinkling, they were certainly processing it slowly.

Then there was (y/n).

To this day Yuji couldn’t describe the way she looked at him.  He was certain she didn’t blink once.  Tucked behind Megumi as if his tall stature could protect her from the boy raised from the dead, she looks more small and fragile than he’s ever seen her before.  Her jaw wasn’t dropped like Maki’s, but her lips were parted, trying to form any word that comes to mind.  Nothing comes out.  Her eyebrows can’t stop pinching and relaxing.  Worst of all, the tears that were silently streaming down her face.

Maki was the first to bark out an insult at Gojo for his insensitive display.  Panda welcomes Itadori back as he and Inumaki follow after Maki to come up with a plan of attack before the Exchange Event begins.

Yuji awkwardly climbed out of the box he was still standing in, approaching his friends with a frown.

“I thought you guys would be more excited”

“You- you were dead, Itadori” Megumi’s the first to stutter over his quiet statement.  

Nobara’s chewing on her lip, but some of the color was returning to her face the longer he stood before her, and she was sure that he was going to disappear like a ghost again.

(y/n’s) left to stare with wide teary eyes, still half behind Megumi, still rendered speechless.  Yuji wonders if she even knows she’s crying.

“I’m… I’m glad you’re back.  We’re glad you’re back,” 

Megumi would love it if one of the girls would speak up.  But Nobara still looks like she might be sick, and he hasn’t found the courage to check on how (y/n’s) been taking the last few minutes.  He’s pretty sure she’s crying behind him and he didn’t know how to take that on.

“Just in time too, yeah?” He finishes with an awkward cough.  Yuji can barely manage a nod before Megumi leaves.

Nobara mutters something of a similar sentiment before she leaves as well.   It’s through a cough and a gag, but she tries, and Yuji appreciates it nonetheless.

With everyone else gone, and without Megumi to hide behind, (y/n) seems more exposed now.  Never before in Yuji’s presence had she wanted to shrink down into the earth, and she hates feeling that way now.

“Gojo thought that would be fun…” He starts to explain himself, his hand going over the back of his neck.  “I’m realizing now that it was probably… really stupid, huh- oof!” 

He didn’t get the chance to properly apologize before she crashed into him.  It’s so fast, almost a blur, that he nearly loses balance.  But her arms are wrapped around his middle so tight he thinks even if he had tripped up, she would’ve righted him with her strong hold with no issue.

“So stupid,” She repeats before pulling away, and finally wiping away the tears on her face with the back of her hands.  “You were dead Yuji, you can’t just- just pop out of a box and expect us to think that’s normal!” 

“I’m sorry,” He blurts out the apology before he can lose any more time.  “I’m really, really sorry, alright? I wish I could have told you guys sooner but Gojo-sensei… well, we thought it was right while I was training.  He was just trying to protect me” 

She nods in understanding, but it’s shaky, and it was clear that she was struggling to actually understand  the whole picture.  Yuji couldn’t be upset with her for processing it all slowly.  Hell, he wasn’t all too caught up himself.  He might’ve gotten ahead of himself a bit with the whole surprise reappearance.

“Look, I get it, I… do,” (y/n) sighs, blinking quickly to rid the last of the tears from her eyes.  It doesn’t quite work.  “Just don’t ever be that stupid again, alright?” 

He chuckles a bit, and for a moment it makes a smile crack on her lips too.  It’s wobbly, but it’s enough to warm his heart.

“I know that’s hard for you,” She teases weakly, before sniffling.  “But you’re gonna have to try, alright?” 

“Alright,” He’s still smiling, but it comes out so genuine it’s heavy.  “Promise, I won’t do anything that stupid again” 

Her wobbly smile stretches a little more, before a small laugh escapes her.

“Don’t go making promises you can’t keep” 

“I don’t” 

To his luck, he hadn’t done anything too stupid since his little ‘I’m still alive!’ bit.  Well, he was pretty sure, considering she had yet to give him that look she had that day.  Thank the gods too, because Yuji’s pretty sure if he ever had to see her cry like that again, he’d die on the spot.

Unfortunately, this means that Yuji learned that day that he couldn’t live with himself if he was the cause of her suffering.  Seeing her cry was hard enough, but knowing he was the sole reason for it? Even thinking about it now, his throat burned hotter.  His eyes did, too, but he was trying to ignore the blur that kept invading his vision for now.

What the hell was with his emotions tonight? He’d come out here to find some peace while storm watching, and instead he’s standing here reminding himself of everything he’d done wrong in his life.

Falling for someone despite knowing he wasn’t meant to walk this earth for much longer had to have been some twisted punishment for something wicked he’d done in a past life.  

Or was it punishment for carrying the most wicked thing within him now? 

Swallowing that first finger months ago on a whim to save a stranger’s life, was that the day that sealed his fate? 

Was he doomed from the start or doomed somewhere along the way?

Would he be able to live with himself, not for the evil residing inside of him, but knowing that one day he’d have to leave the people he’s grown to love more than anything in the world, and he’d leave them knowing that they wouldn’t see him go without fighting, kicking, screaming- 

Wait, did he just see something move?

Shaking his head of his self pitying thoughts, he blinked away the fog in his eyes and tried to focus on where he could’ve sworn he’d seen movement.  Sure enough seconds later his eyes were bulging out of his head and he was abandoning his safe and dry spot under the awning in order to take off towards the figure.

She’s half jogging, at such an awkward speed Yuji could only wonder if she wasn’t even rushing to get to a dry spot.  Maybe she’d indulged herself in the rain the same way he’d thought about doing earlier.  Either way he’s sprinting towards her and closing the distance in rapid time.

He’s surprised upon his approach when he hears her laughter.  Sweet and bubbly, as if being caught in the rain was the funniest thing in the world.  Even though it had to be intentional, didn’t it? At this hour? She had to have chosen to come outside- much less walk around the campus? 

“What are you doing out here?” He hollers over the loud rain once he reaches her.

(y/n) grins at him, and he swears even with the moon in hiding behind the storm clouds, it reflects it’s light onto her somehow anyways.  She’s already soaked through, the walk from the girls’ dorms to the boys’ isn’t a short one by design.  Even if she was doing a half-jog the whole way over.  Her body trembles like a leaf in the wind and Yuji tries to usher her back to where he was, but she seems to have no urgency about her at all.

“Aren’t you freezing? C’mon, you should get out of the-” 

“It’s alright!” She waves her hand around to dismiss Yuji’s worries.  “I wouldn’t have come out here if I was afraid of getting a little wet” 

(Yuji thinks this is why Megumi used to make fun of her for being a manic pixie dream girl.  He had yet to fully understand the term himself, but this painted a pretty clear picture.  He’ll have to ask Megumi about it later) 

“A little wet?” He chuckles, hoping that if he picks up his pace she will too, but she doesn’t.  “You’re soaked through” 

She just shrugs, and follows alongside him towards the boys’ dorms, where he had been sitting dry just moments ago.  That’s long gone now, his tee shirt and sweatpants felt heavy and cold as they clung to his skin.  His hair hangs almost in his eyes, raindrops dripping onto his eyelashes and making him rub his eyes from the irritation every few minutes.  

It wasn’t very pleasant at all.  He’s glad he didn’t step out into the rain earlier.  Without her company, it wouldn’t have been worth it.

“What’re you doing out here anyways?” He’s still yelling through the rain, but they’re almost to the peace and quiet of the awning now.  “It’s pretty late” 

“You’re up too,” She shoots back like it’s a scold, even though there’s still a grin on her face.  

He’s dying to know what has her so delighted even in these awful conditions.  He’s certain it’s nearing two in the morning- if not later- the storm was so awful they had to yell to hear one another, and now they were both soaked to the bone and shaking like dogs to try and preserve heat.  Honestly, everything about this present moment should suck.  But it simply doesn’t.

“Which I should’ve expected.  Once the storm really started I wanted to come see if you were watching it too.  I know you like that sort of thing” 

His heart does a stupid flutter at the simple fact about him she’d remembered.  It might have also had something to do with her coming all the way here.  In the rain.  In her pajamas.  Her cute hello kitty themed pajamas.

They finally reach the awning and (y/n) gets to work ringing out the hem of her tee shirt.  It’s useless, even with the shocking amount of rainwater splashing on the ground, but Yuji doesn’t comment on it.

“You could’ve just texted you know” He mumbles, hoping the dark would hide the heat that rushes to his face.  Although, it’s somewhat welcomed, as he’s still shivering a bit from being in the rain.

(y/n) looks up at him, stopping her movements to wrap her arms around herself instead.  She was still cold too, but she didn’t say anything about it, didn’t try to rush back to her dorm or anything of the sort.

“Well maybe I wanted to come and see you, too,” She suggests, her smile softening as she gazes up at him.

He laughs, bashfully hanging his head to bite back the smile that threatens to take over his whole face.  (y/n) laughs with him, solely for the fact that she’d gotten him to crack just a little bit.

It had been awhile since he’d acted himself around her.  Maybe only a few days, but there was a notable change.  He wanted to hang out less, was rushing out of class, and training on his own more often.  For someone as extroverted as Yuji, it was easy to notice.  It had been nagging at her for longer than she would’ve liked, but she didn’t work up the courage to address it until tonight.

“Yuji,” 

His name comes out in a soft whisper.  Had she spoken so low while they were still caught in the rain, he surely wouldn’t have heard it.  It hits him now with the force of a truck.  He can’t help but give her every ounce of his attention.

“I’ve been meaning to ask… are you alright?” 

The concern laced in her gentle voice has him worrying, too.  There was some sort of hypnosis involved whenever she spoke to him, as if she had the power to compel him to answer anything she asked.  It was a terrifying ability, however Yuji was convinced she didn’t know she possessed it, so theoretically he was safe.  For now.

When he doesn’t answer right away, (y/n) feels an overwhelming need to explain herself.

“You’ve just been a little distant and… and I want to make sure you’re doing okay.  It’s okay if you’re not, just…” She trails off for a moment, her eyes flickering between his as she tries to decode whatever heavy emotion is sitting behind them.  “Just know I’m here for you if you need to talk, or anything, alright?” 

“I know,” He nods back at her right away.  Of course he knew.  She was the most compassionate person he’d ever known.  Just being in her presence relaxed him to a dangerous state of relief.  That said, his heart was beating at odd intervals as she displayed this much concern over his well being.  “I’m okay, you don’t need to worry” 

He tries to convince her with a smile, but she must see through it, because she gives him a puzzled look as her gaze sweeps over him.  A beat passes before she takes a deep breath.

“Of course I need to,” It’s not intended for it to come out in a whisper, but it does anyways.  “I’ll…” She loses her voice again as her eyebrows pinch together.  

Yuji wonders if she doesn’t know what to say, or if she can’t say what she wants to.  Either way, he waits with as much patience as he can muster for her to finish.  

“I’ll always worry” 

When it finally comes out, (y/n) seals her lips together, pressing them just tight enough that she’s sure they won’t let anything slip that she isn’t prepared to say.  Although if the pounding heart in her chest has anything to do with it, it very well could all come tumbling out before she could stop herself.

The corners of Yuji’s mouth tilt into a frown as he stares back at her with his own concern.  This isn’t right, she shouldn’t be worrying about him.  The logical corner of his brain is raising red flags at alarming speeds.  He needs to find something to say to right this, before she could put too much of her worry in him.  He wasn’t worth worrying about, didn’t she see? He wouldn’t be here forever anyways, there were definitely more worthwhile things for her to focus on.

Instead, all that comes out is a quiet, “Why?” 

(y/n) blinks, as if not understanding what he means at first.  Her arms squeeze around herself a little tighter to preserve warmth, but really she’s only squishing the cold and soggy material of her pajama shirt against her stomach.

“Why?” She repeats in a soft huff, before shaking her head.  “You’ll never really get it, hm?” 

The tiniest of smiles forms on her lips as she looks up at him, gauging his reaction.  Just like before, he’s got that lost look on his face.  It’s cute, the little knot between his brows and the way his frown deepens but only makes his lip jut out in a pout.  One of these days she’ll tell him how adorable this look on him is, but right now she’s only seeking to help him understand the way she feels about him.

“Yuji, do you remember when we all thought you’d died, but then Gojo brought you back?”

“Of course” He answers her without hesitation.

“And I cried at you and made you promise not to do anything stupid like that again?” 

This time, Yuji nods his head back at her.

“I’d never seen you cry before” He mumbles.  Just like earlier, thinking about it makes his stomach squirm uncomfortably.

“Well, that was probably the thousandth time I’d cried over you,” She tells him, and his eyes go wide with alarm.  A short, humorless laugh escapes her as she shakes her head at him.  “Not because of anything you’d done,” She says quickly, already knowing there was going to be a misunderstanding.  “But… we thought you were dead for quite some time, and I… I didn’t know what to do with myself.  I’ve never felt like a larger failure as a sorcerer- as- as a person, when you died,” 

Yuji’s frown worsens.

“I mean I… I was a wreck, it was awful.  I could barely sleep, eat, train- I actually was denied assignments for a while.  Gojo thought I would be a liability.  I know he was just worried about me, but… what I’m trying to say is it was hard,” Her voice strains and she has to take a pause to even her breathing before her emotions could get on top of her.  “Really hard” She adds quietly.

“I… I didn’t realize it was like that,” Yuji mumbles, ducking his head to stare down at the ground.  How could he be so stupid? She’d suffered over him and shortly after coming back he’d started distancing himself without an explanation.  “I’m sorry, I feel so-” 

“No, don’t,” (y/n) steps forward, tilting her chin to catch his line of sight even when he tries to avoid her gaze.  “I don’t need you to apologize, you haven’t done anything wrong, not at all,” She even gives him a small smile to convince him.  It takes a minute for him to commit to looking back at her.  “Yuji, it’s quiet the opposite” 

“The opposite?” He repeats, and she nods her head.

Her nerves have her repeatedly pushing her wet strands of hair behind her ears, tucking the same strands over and over to make sure they couldn’t possibly fall out of place.  Even though with how wet they were they practically slicked back against her head.

“I’m trying to tell you that I care about you, idiot,” She breathes out the insult so softly, so lovingly that even though it’s nature is cruel, his heart accepts it as the most darling pet name anyone had ever called him.  “So I’m going to worry about you… because I’ve lost you before, and I don’t want to go through that again” 

It doesn’t dawn on him how much closer she’d gotten to him until he lifts his head and they’re almost nose to nose.  Her eyes don’t shy away from his once.  They’re soft, and full of his favorite constellations.  He melts little by little before her, until his muscles stop shivering.

“I don’t ever want to put you through that again,” 

He whispers it as if it’s the most hidden secret he could offer her.  With it, his hand reaches out towards her, his eyes landing on the smallest strand of wet hair that she’d missed in her rampant tucking.  It’s clung to her cheek from the rain.  But his movements still just before his fingers could graze over her skin.

“But…” 

He doesn’t have to say it.  They both know.  There’s no sense in speaking about the thing that they never talk about.  It was his burden to carry, wasn’t it?  It wasn’t fair to make anyone else carry the weight of his punishment.  Even if just for a moment.  Even if his back is tired and he longs to love her like a man with no worry about a scheduled death date creeping up on him.

Yuji swallows, hard, trying to keep the unspoken reality just that- unspoken.

But he can’t help but feel as though he owes her an explanation.

“But I’m afraid I’m going to,” His mouth feels dry as he finally tiptoes towards the subject.  (y/n’s) face falls.  “One day, you know I… I’ll be gone and- and I won’t be coming back again” 

As her eyes flicker between his, there’s the smallest of movement in her chin, and incidentally she feels his fingertips ghost over her cheek.  Her head tilts towards the warmth of his featherlight touch right away, leaning into it until the pads of his fingers are pressed into her soft cheekbone.

As Yuji tells himself to pull away and step back, he finds the rest of his hand following her movement, until his palm is fitted over her cheek, and the tip of his index finger is finally pushing that stray hair back behind her ear.

“Are you afraid of death?” Her question is murmured so softly it’s almost spoken right into his lips.

He shakes his head.

“No,” He answers quietly.  “No, I’m not afraid of death.  I’m afraid of… what gets left behind,” 

He’s never shared this with anyone before.  He’d been bottling up the nasty feelings that come with knowing you’ll be executed for so long that it felt criminal to admit them to her now.  Especially when she frowns up at him, and he can see the tears forming in her pretty eyes.

“I’m afraid that I’m going to hurt the people I care about because… because I cared about them” He admits.

When she blinks, a tear escapes, and makes a run for it down her cheek.

“Yuji…” She trails off, a small gasp interrupting her.  “You won’t hurt anyone,” She tells him, even as another tear follows suit.  Just as it slips past her cheekbone, Yuji’s thumb catches it, and he wipes it away without hesitation, determined to keep her from crying over him anymore than she already has.  “We’ll be okay” 

“I don’t want to keep making you cry” He sighs, and she reaches up to grab him by the wrist, squeezing onto it as she presses her cheek further into the palm of his hand.

“You’re not making me cry,” She assures him, a watery smile stretching over her lips.  “I’m crying because- because what I’m afraid of is that you’ll die not knowing how loved you were,” 

His frown finally softens, morphing into faint surprise.

“I would never forgive myself if I didn’t make sure that you know that, every single day, for as long as you live,” She’s stammering a little bit, but there’s a sudden rush that overwhelms her, making her want to spill it all out before it’s too late.  “I’ve never… I’ve never felt so moved by another person before I met you, Yuji,” She confesses.  “I was just… training to be my best every day just because I thought that’s what you do when you’re in my position but then… then you came along, seemingly out of nowhere, and you turned everything so upside down I could barely see what the right direction was,” 

She’s cut off by a giggle that escapes her, and it’s almost out of place, but her entire face brightens with it as she relives that first blossom of feeling he’d sparked in her.  She’d never be able to describe to him exactly what he’d done for her, he’d never understand the way he sparked a purpose in her so deep that it made her feel like she’d finally grown a soul, but she could try.

“Yuji, you gave me a reason to want to be a jujutsu sorcerer, you know?” And he doesn’t know, but she continues anyway.  “You made me not only want to be a better sorcerer, but a better person.  That’s why when you died I felt so pathetic, for not being able to do something, to help you,” She explained.  “You were so bright and- and eager to do the right thing even when it was hard, even though you have every reason to just- just do whatever you want, to leave if you wanted…” 

She gnaws on her lip for a moment as she processes it all herself.  Her heart felt heavy in her chest, but she felt a certain responsibility to tell him the full truth.

“But you didn’t… you… you stayed,” She mumbles.

At this point, Yuji’s too stunned to speak, so he just stood there, frozen, taking in every word she had to say.  He doesn’t want to interrupt her, but he’s also at such a loss for words nothing would come out if he tried.

“I’m trying to tell you I- that I lo-” 

“Don’t,” 

He shakes his head, his hand sliding lower over her cheek, thumb hovering just over her lips, ready to press down if his interruption wasn’t enough to keep her from finishing her confession.  But she does stop, and he watches closely to make sure she doesn’t try again, his thumb still hovering just over her quivering lips just in case.

“Don’t say that” He whispers, quieter than the rain around them.

With the hand she still has curled around his wrist, she pulls his hand away, dropping them at their sides.

“Why not?” Her brows pinch together, her heart aching with the weight of the words still stuck inside of her.

“Because, you…” He tries to give her a reason, but it’s not an easy feat.  It takes a few tries of him opening and closing his mouth before something actually comes out.  “Because you can’t” 

She doesn’t like that answer.  She frowns back at him.

“Yuji, you-” 

“Because if you say that, then when I’ll die, I’ll know it, and I’ll know that I’m letting you down again.  I’ll know that you’ll cry over me, and you’ll- you’ll hurt and I can’t- I’m selfish, alright? I can’t cause that, I don’t want that-” 

“Yuji,” She calls his name again, this time reaching for him with her trembling fingers, clutching at the front material of his shirt to grab his attention enough to cut him off.  “It’s far too late for that now,” She says it with a chuckle and a bittersweet smile forming on her face.  Her head tilts at him, just a short angle, but enough that it makes him feel weak in the knees.  “Don’t you think?” 

No, there’s still time to take this all back, there’s still time to fix this.  There’s still time for him to end whatever is happening now and forget that it ever happened.

The faint nod he gives is only received due to the movement of his wet hair.  He’s not sure why he’s agreeing with her, but the logical corner of his brain was being squandered by his body’s instant reaction to be honest with her, to comfort her, to make everything okay, anything to keep her from crying.

“Too late?” He echoes the words curiously.  

Her smile softens as she nods back at him again, her free hand touching his jaw, so lightly he wants nothing more than to grab her wrist and press her hand into his face until the warmth of her small palm against his jaw was the only thing that he could feel.

She nods back at him, her lips pursing towards the corner of her mouth as she fights the urge to grin back at him.

“Afraid so,” She murmurs back.

They share small smiles and warm cheeks for a moment, and (y/n) becomes a little more sure of herself as she lays her fingers against the length of his jaw.

“But either way, are you gonna let me fess up now?” She asks, and it seems she really was waiting for his approval.  “I walked all this way in the rain, you know-” 

“When you have my number” He reminds her, and she laughs again, quiet and sweet.

“I felt like the walk” 

“During a huge storm?”

“Needed the air” 

“You’re soaked to the bone, you’re still shivering” 

“And it’s so bad that I wanted to come ‘n see you?” 

“I’m in love with you,” 

The bantering ends there.  (y/n’s) eyes double in size, and her shaking fingers finally still against his skin.  There’s no doubt that she heard him, but with how frozen she is before him now it was as if he suddenly lost the ability to understand the language.

Yuji’s cradling her face again, his hands cupped under her jaw and his face so close she could almost tear up again.

“I’m so in love with you,” He says it again for good measure, or just because he couldn’t hold it back now that it was out there.  “I…” He shakes his head, a breathless laugh escaping him, before he can’t help but confess one more time.  “I love you” 

“I love you too” It comes out so fast, as if the blockage in her throat was suddenly removed.  It’s followed by the faintest of smiles at first, timid and sweet- it’s the most innocent he’s ever seen her look.  

(Compared to the twisted grins she’d wear on assignments and even while training on her own, at least)

The shy smile quickly spreads wider, until it’s a goofy and toothy grin.  She can’t contain the spurts of giggles that escape her, because it’s just all too cliche isn’t it? Getting caught in the rain, sharing confessions that might be better left unsaid- and yet they just couldn’t help themselves.

He’s laughing with her, quiet and soft, before his hands drop to her hips and wind around her waist, tugging her against him in a tight hug. 

The sticky wet clothes make them both chilly again, but no one seems to mind.  Not when she’s wrapping her arms around his neck so tight that their wet clothes are clinging together.  They hang on as tight as they can before the wet clothes become too much of a hindrance, and they have to peel apart.

“C’mon,” Yuji’s quick to sling his arm around her waist and pull her towards the door.  “Let’s get some dry clothes” 

She follows him in, keeping as close as she can and walking on the tips of her toes once they’re inside, just to be sure that they wouldn’t be heard.  Even though the thunder was still rolling outside, Megumi was a known light sleeper, and they wouldn’t put it past him to wake up at the slightest creak of a floorboard.

“And something to eat, too?” She whispers, peeking up at him with hopeful eyes.

Yuji nods, smiling back at her.  It was ridiculously late, they surely wouldn’t be getting enough sleep to be well rested tomorrow, but that was a problem for tomorrow.

“Anything in mind?” He asks as they creep their way through the halls.  The smile she gives him in return suggests that she already knew exactly what she wanted.  Yuji can’t say he’s surprised when she answers.

“Meatballs…?” 

And it might be a ridiculous ask- because it’s two in the morning and it’ll be at least an hour before they could actually eat the meatballs, but Yuji beams at the suggestion, and agrees to the request right away.

“It’s about time I teach you how to make them, anyways” He says softly.

“Yeah,” (y/n) agreed, whispering just as carefully.  “I’d like that a lot” 

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[ lost but now i am found // i can see that once i was blind // tryna take what i could get, scared that i couldn’t find all the answers honey ]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

xoxo ~ jordie

[hxney-lemcn]

Don't Be a Stranger — Daisuke x gn! reader

summery: parties were the last thing you wanted to attended, especially when your friend ditches you instantly. She makes it up to you by finding you a cute date.

tw: none that I can think of

a/n: haha, so I said I was unmotivated, and then thought of this. I actually meant uninspired. Unfortunately, I am uninspired once more 😔

wc: 1.4k

Master List

It was so loud that the entire room felt like it was vibrating around you. The only lights were dark blue and red leds that made it hard to see much of anything. People were dancing…no, more just grinding and jumping against each other. You felt completely out of place, leaning against a wall and clutching your soda like your life depends on it. You were scrunched in, avoiding the drunken young adults that stumbled past. 

Why were you at a party that you didn’t even wanna be at? Well, your friend dragged you, begging you to come with so she wasn’t alone. One second she was by your side grabbing your sleeve, the next she was hanging off the arm of some pretty girl giggling and batting her eyelashes. You didn’t mind that she was flirting with someone, all power to her, but that meant you were left alone in a setting you had no idea how to traverse. Glancing at your phone for the hundredth time that night, you felt your soul leave your body. No text from your friend, and you had no idea how long this party was gonna last.  Sure, you could just leave, but then you’d feel like an asshole if your friend texted you asking for help or to bring her home. So, like the loyal friend you were, you continued to awkwardly stand there, trying to be invisible and sip your drink. 

“This is my friend,” You heard your friend say your name. Looking up you saw her, the woman she was flirting with, and a guy approaching you. “They may be a little awkward but they’re the nicest person ever, I swear. Not to mention single.” You watched on, embarrassed at your friend, Ingrid’s introduction of you as she winked at the guy who chuckled awkwardly.

“Uh, hello,” You said, but you realized you hadn’t spoken loud enough, so you repeated yourself in a louder tone.

“Hey,” The pretty lady waved, a warm smile on her face. “I’m Alaina.” 

“Daisuke,” The guy nodded. You nodded back, an awkward smile lining your lips. You were never good at talking to others, not to mention at a party of all places. So, to try and ignore the lull in the conversation you took another sip of your drink, watching as Ingrid and Alaina started talking to each other animatedly, leaving you and Daisuke to stand awkwardly.

“This doesn’t seem to be your vibe,” Daisuke was the first to break the silence between you (not that it was very quiet with the music making your teeth rattle).

Blinking up at him, you tilted your head, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Raising his hands defensively, he stammered, “I-it's not a bad thing! I just mean you seem like you’d rather be anywhere but here right now.”

“You’re not wrong,” You agreed, nodding your head. “I’m only here ‘cus of Ingrid.” Daisuke nodded, the red and blue lighting shining nicely across his features. Wait, what the hell were you thinking? No, it's fine, its normal to find someone attractive. 

“Wanna go outside?” He asked, thumb pointing to the front door. 

“Lead the way.”

As the two of you inched your way towards the door, you didn’t miss the sly grin Ingrid sent your way. You swiftly faced Daisuke’s back instead, trying not to get lost in the sweaty bodies that constantly bumped into you. It got so bad, you ended up grabbing the back of his shirt. As the two of you exited the house the cool air soothed you, letting out a sigh of relief, you let go of Daisuke’s shirt, muscles slowly relaxing. You hadn’t realized how tense you were. 

“You really don’t like parties, huh?” Daisuke chuckled, voice softer now that the music had dulled. 

“Not really,” You chuckled back, scratching the back of your neck. Thankfully, the front yard didn’t have many people, and the porch held a porch swing, which the two of you sat on. 

“So, you like these things?” You asked, trying your hardest to keep the conversation going. You normally don't put this much effort when talking to a stranger, but Daisuke seemed nice, and the fact that he was pretty helped. Ingrid really knew your type. 

Daisuke shrugged, “Yeah, it's fun meeting new people and letting loose.”

Then the cursed silence fell over you two, but this time it wasn’t as awkward. You stared up at the sky, watching the stars twinkle and the moon shine…well as best as you could with the light pollution, but it was still there. You both swayed gently on the swing, the party music thumping softly behind you. This was a lot better than what you were doing before. 

Just as you were about to fully space out, Daisuke stole your attention once more, “So, what do you usually like to do?”

Looking back at the brunette, you ignored the way your insides twisted at the fact he was already looking at you, answering, “Going to a cafe or the library. Maybe a walk in the park if I’m feeling particularly motivated.”  “Yeah, I can see that,” He nodded, a boyish grin on his lips. “Lemme guess, you go to college?”

Gaping like a fish out of water, you didn’t like how easily he was reading you, “What gives you that impression?”

“You’re too smart to be partying,” He shrugged, leaning back. 

“That’s a stereotype,” You pouted. “Ingrid is a perfect example. We go to college together and she’s a total partier.” 

“Okay, fair point,” Daisuke conceded. “If you hate parties so much why did you let her drag you here?”

“Didn’t want her going alone,” You shrugged. “I don’t trust people at these things.”

“You shouldn't,” Daisuke agreed with a sigh. “As much as I love a good party, even I know not everyone has the best of intentions.”

“Is Alaina your friend?” You questioned wanting to get a bit more info on the mysterious girl that had caught your friend's attention.

“Kinda,” He shook his hand in a so-so motion. “I see her at a lot of these parties. Seems like a good chick.” You nodded, messing with the hem of your shirt. 

“Soooo,” He drew the word out, trying to act nonchalant but you could tell he seemed nervous. “What would you say to going out sometime. We could go to a cafe…or the library if that's more your speed. Or we could head to a park for a walk, I’m not picky.” 

Was…was he offering what you thought he was? You felt your stomach tie up in knots, face warming and brain frying. You were not prepared for this. A cute guy was interested in you? Maybe you were getting ahead of yourself, after all, it wasn’t every day a stranger wanted to hang out with you.

“That…that sounds nice,” You muttered, your confidence completely shattered. Your fidgeting grew worse as you started messing with the collar of your shirt. 

“Cool, cool,” Daisuke nodded. Outside, he looked nonchalant (with a mix of nerves), on the inside he was having a full blown meltdown. You, your awkwardness endearing and your kindness charming. You, whose banter with him flowed naturally, opened up to him almost immediately. You didn’t seem too awkward as long as you had a bit of a push, and luckily for him he was extroverted enough to get you out of your shell. “C-could I get your number, or socials or something so we can plan it out?” He stuttered, cheeks warming, eyes glancing away.

“Oh, yeah,” You nodded, taking out your phone. Opening a new contact, you handed him your phone, letting him punch his number in before sending a quick text stating your name. “Did it go through?” You asked, looking over to him as he took out his phone. 

“Yeah,” He nodded, biting his lip as his grin widened. Sure, he’s met lots of attractive people, having a few drunk makeouts under his belt, but this felt different. A lot different. You both were sober…well he was a bit tipsy, but just enough to give him a little boost, but that meant that this was more real than what he’s used to. Not to mention he found you cute, and your friend, Ingrid, seemed to be right, you were really nice (so far). He hadn’t had many crushes, never having had a serious relationship, but imagining going on a date with you to a cute cafe or a walk in the park, wasn’t that just the most romantic thing ever? At least Daisuke thought so. 

“So…it's a date?” He asked, watching you with eager eyes. Shrinking into yourself, you felt yourself fluster, avoiding his eyes like the plague. “Yeah,” You nodded shyly. “It's a date.”

[stellas-and-tonitruses]

⚠ SPOILERS FOR CHAPTER 93 AHEAD! ⚠

now that we have finally met demetrius, it seems like a great time to dissect his first scene and proper conversation! :]

his wide, unfocused stare hides ✨unexpected complexity✨, as expected of a desmond

he's impatient (common desmond trait at this point)

he's nonchalantly exceptional, as we expected and have been repeatedly told thus far

...but most importantly, amidst a sea of accomplishments, he is burdened with a lack of people skills and visibly frustrated by it, as evidenced by his conversation with damian in this chapter.

the analysis and speculation continues under the cut!!

so, a breakdown of the main meat of his introduction

similarly to every single time there's an interaction between damian and another desmond, damian is the one who reaches out first by calling out to demetrius, who immediately asks him what he wants. damian tries to begin with small talk, congratulating him on his accomplishments of the day

demetrius is brief and to the point, but it doesn't feel to me like he is annoyed here. perhaps curious, perhaps indifferent, we don't know -- demetrius is a boy of few explanatory thoughts, after all

merely in the next page, demetrius is revealed to have a blank mind for most of this conversation.

i don't believe this is a sign that demetrius was experimented on or anything. obviously, this does not rule out that he has been experimented on, but i don't think his lack of thoughts are indicative of that, nor do i believe anya was too far away (in previous chapters, she has read the thoughts of people at greater distances than this with ease!). i think this has something to do with his upbringing, but also very importantly his state of mind at the moment

his eyes are wide open, but his stare is unfocused. i think this is an intentional choice to hammer in that he's not really here at this moment, listening to what is undoubtedly to him pointless praise. he has likely tuned all of it out completely.

(as a side note, if we wanna involve anya in this situation more, we could assume that he is intentionally cloaking his thoughts from anya or any other potential mind-readers, but while i do think donovan is very likely involved in project apple, i severely doubt the financial benefactors of project apple would spend likely a lot of money to figure out a way to shield the thoughts of a middle schooler, regardless of who his dad is, from potential telepaths. as far as we know, anya is the only one with this specific power and demetrius is unlikely to have any information that would incriminate the operation. if that was an issue, i don't see why they wouldn't spend their money to protect melinda's mind, since she likely has way more info than demetrius ever could.)

moving on from that side note though,

we do not see demetrius' face as he says this! this is important to me

we are left unaware to whether or not he is disappointed or just trying to abscond to take a nap (he really needs one)

but then, he says this:

this, to me, is a direct attempt at connecting!! he's trying to reciprocate the small talk, the praise, trying to continue the conversation. his thought, "i don't understand him," may feel contradictory but to me, it only underlines his frustration about this, because he knows what damian is going to say next:

even though it was expected, this is not what demetrius was hoping to get out of this. his downturned eyebrows give a feeling of discontent. he is not blank, he is visibly frustrated, visibly annoyed.

and we are thus made aware of a boundary demetrius and melinda both share:

never mention donovan.

for one reason or another, this is the boundary damian has overstepped with both his mother AND his brother now, without ever being informed that it IS a boundary in the first place

so demetrius, upset, turns around to leave and throws this at damian:

this is important, because damian has shared a very similar sentiment to anya before, albeit in a mournful tone.

demetrius likely feels similarly neglected by his parents, but is long past feeling sad about it. he has moved straight to anger, understandably!

but the bigger reason for his frustration, imo, relates to a problem damian once again ALSO has: people treating them as a gateway to their father and nothing more.

demetrius has more than likely also been treated like this, and probably still is unless his peers have learned not to engage because of his brief, snippy responses, so he is familiar with the feeling of being used.

...and damian unknowingly treated him the exact same way, even though he's also grown to hate it.

of course, he's 6 years old and he meant no harm by this -- he's just a lonely boy trying to be noticed by his neglectful parents, after all, what else could he possibly do?

but for demetrius, this is the end of the conversation. he is not his father's manager, he's not even that close to him, so why does his brother only ever talk to him when it relates to their father?

as he said before: he doesn't understand him, and why he keeps doing this. does he not know there is little info to be gained?

he doesn't understand their father either, with his impossibly high expectations, never pleased, never happy, never available

and lastly, as ewen and emile try to introduce themselves

demetrius has one final thought.

and he casts aside this entire conversation, leaving the scene as empty as he entered it.

of course, the chapter doesn't end here, but this is where demetrius' involvement in it does, leaving us with a newfound understanding that while to damian, demetrius represents everything he can only strive to become... to demetrius? his accomplishments ring hollow in the face of everything he wishes he could understand.

we do get an extra flashback that hearkens back to a better yesterday, but while donovan is lacking some very important details (those scars, that dead disinterest that follows his every move -- he seems mirthful somehow here), we don't know if this scene represents a time when they were closer or if it's simply evidence that as far back as everyone can remember, demetrius has been doing nothing but studying all the time

could this be evidence of something nefarious relating to project apple? eh, not particularly, not to me. the boy's just studying hard, any relation to project apple would have to be more recent in the timeline imo

TL;DR:

demetrius has been built up throughout the past 92 chapters as a figure larger-than-life, and this has been thanks to most of our knowledge of him being directly affected by damian's perception of him, as the younger brother living under his shadow

however, he has now been humanized by his flaws: a short temper and a lack of social skills that comes paired with a clear want to connect, to understand, to converse. he seems to be a very lonely kid, everyone around him either jealous, putting him on a pedestal or actively seeking to use him under the false impression that he has important connections, and although he doesn't mean to, damian has unknowingly been treating demetrius in the same way, only seeking him out when he wants to know something about donovan.

interestingly, him and melinda share the same trigger, that being donovan himself, though we do not yet know if their reason for this is also shared.

CLOSING THOUGHTSSS

it has been so exciting finally meeting this little goober-- i thought i might never see the day 😭😭😭

thank you to whoever read this far, i literally made this blog just now so! HOPE I DID WELL!

💖

[sematarygirls]

how did swan!reader and rafe meet?

🦢 ⊹ᡣ𐭩₊⋆ ─── swan!reader and rafe's first meeting

   once again, rafe had somehow found himself roped into attending some business dinner party with his father and rose that he had no interest or care for. he had much better things to do on a saturday night than plastering on a charming, fake smile and standing around socializing with people twice his age, but this was a fact that didn't seem to matter to his father, who had told him that he was to be dressed sharply with his hair tamed by six o'clock on the dot.

reluctantly, he had obliged, dressing up in a white button-down and black dress pants before carefully styling his hair, so he would look every bit the respectable, young, future-businessman that his father expected him to be.

the ride to the party was filled with yes dad's and nodding in agreement to being on his best behavior as his father reminded him for the millionth time that he had a reputation to uphold, which meant his children were to be the epitome of perfect to ensure his spotless reputation stayed just that.

rafe had expected the dreadfully awful music and the awkward introductions and small talk with people he couldn't care less about. he expected the lack of booze strong enough to get him drunk enough that he could at least semi-enjoy the boring social affairs. he even expected the lingering glances from middle-aged women who had been dragged to this lifeless event by their equally lifeless husbands. what he hadn't expected, however, was you.

when he first laid his eyes on you, he had found himself wondering how he'd ever missed you in the first place. you were laughing courteously at a joke that a balding man, probably in his fifties or sixties, had appeared very proud of. your smile seemed to light up the entire room, breathing life into the party that had otherwise been soulless and unpleasant.

your poise and grace was evident simply by the way you carried yourself, smiling sincerely at everyone that met your eye while also keeping yourself engaged in the surely dull conversation you were having with the older man.

he found himself oddly drawn to you, captivated by not just your beauty but the way you seemed to shift the atmosphere in the room simply by existing. he knew he needed to speak to you, and more than that, he needed to have you. it took just feasting his eyes upon you for him to begin to crave the feel of your delicate skin under his rough hands and your earnest and warm eyes on his own.

before he could stop himself, his legs were moving in long, purposeful strides toward you, uncaring that interrupting your conversation would be considered rude and unbecoming.

"can i steal away a moment with the lady?" the words fell from his lips smoothly, a confident smile tugging at his lips as he observed your eyes shift to him and widen ever-so-slightly in surprise. his eyes trailed down the expanse of your neck, lingering on your pearls for a moment as he imagined littering your perfect skin with bright red hickies that would have you blushing and whining about what your poor parents would think if they saw.

"we were actually in the middle-" you began to object, but the man across from you swiftly cut you off.

"of course, mr. cameron," he nodded, recognizing rafe as ward's son. no one wanted to mess with the wealthiest and most powerful man in kildare, and that usually extended to his children.

a frown tugged at your lips as you watched the man scurry off to find someone else to bother. of course, you knew rafe cameron. he had quite the reputation around the island as a party boy and total manwhore of epic proportions. you didn't typically listen to the rumors about people that danced from ear to ear of gossipy teenagers and housewives with no better ways to spend their time alike, but you had made an exception for him.

"problem, sweetheart?" he taunted, his gentlemanly attitude dropped and replaced with his usual arrogant and entitled demeanor—the very same one that usually had women falling at his feet.

you simply raised an eyebrow at him, clearly less than amused at his behavior. "it's rude to interrupt people's private conversations," you ignored the pet named he'd condescendingly assigned you.

he crossed his arms, leaning back against the doorway as he studied you for a moment. he had noticed it when he first approached—that slight pull downward on your lips the moment you laid eyes on him—and it was ever-present now that you two were engaged in a conversation of your own. "you don't like me, do you?" he pondered aloud. "now, i wonder why that would be," he grinned wolfishly, not deterred by the fact one bit.

"well, you haven't exactly wooed me with your charm thus far," you retorted, crossing your own arms.

"hm," he hummed, his head lifting and falling subtly in a small nod as his eyes darted to the way your crossed arms in defiance pushed your tits together—a fact you didn't seem to realize as you stared him down. The look you were giving him wasn't exactly a glare, but you weren't regarding him with the warmth and adoration he had hoped to see when he swooped in to save you either. this, of course, only made him want you more.

"so, was there something you needed, or do you just enjoy asserting your dominance over people?" you asked, pulling his gaze back up to your face, specifically the way your glossed lips pulled into a tight line. he wondered what you tasted like, what every part of you tasted like.

"little bit of both," he shrugged, grinning widely with a wry amusement that had you fighting back an eyeroll—you already knew your mother would throw a fit if she saw your defensive stance and annoyance written on your face, especially since your conduct was directed at a cameron of all people. "lighten up, princess," he laughed. "i just wanted to talk."

"you talk a lot for someone who rarely says anything of substance," your snippy response tumbled from your lips quicker than you could contain it, making you straighten up as you tried to retain some semblance of poise.

"ouch, you wound me," rafe quips, clutching his chest in faux hurt. "you always throw insults at people you don't even know?"

"no, just you," you shrugged, looking around to make sure your parents weren't around to see how their well-mannered daughter seemed to lose her sense in the presence of kildare's golden boy.

"oh, so i'm special then?" he smiled, pleased by your response, which only seemed to fuel his already-texas-sized ego.

"sure, keep telling yourself that," you replied dryly, rolling your eyes at his smug grin.

he seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the fact that he was getting under your skin, which only made your irritation grow. "i'm rafe cameron," he held out his hand.

you eyed his hand, not moving to shake it. you slowly trailed your gaze to his face, quirking an eyebrow. "i'm aware," you informed him, your tone cool and unimpressed, much less interested.

"well," he prompted, dropping his hand after a beat and shoving it into his pocket. "don't i get a name?"

"you haven't earned it," you countered quickly, a smile tugging at your lips now that you had an upper hand—the advantage of mystery.

"now, that's not fair," he rolled his eyes. he couldn't quite decide whether this little game was irritating him or amusing him, which only seemed to add to the thrill.

"whoever said life was fair, mr. cameron?" his name rolled off your tongue in a way that had him twitching in his pants. being called mr. cameron was only ever a formality—one that at times made him feel superior, and at others, he was indifferent to—but the way you said it seemed to change it's meaning entirely. "now if you'll excuse me," you said, your eye catching a friend from across the room.

she was giving you a wide-eyed look, her gaze darting. between you and the infamous kook king rafe cameron. you internally groaned, knowing you'd be bombarded by questions the moment you stepped within earshot.

as you turned to leave, rafe's hand immediately shot out and grabbed your bicep, stopping you. "i'm not done talking to you," he said, his tone lowering with a vaguely threatening timbre.

"yes, you are," you said firmly, pulling your arm from his grasp. if you were fazed by his slight demeanor shift, you didnt show it. "goodbye, rafe," you bid farewell before continuing your journey to your friend, who immediately grabbed your arm and pulled you close, giggling something into your ear when you reached her.

rafe watched your every move like a hawk throughout the rest of the night, waiting for the opportunity to get you alone somewhere, but, to his dismay, it never came.

at the end of the party, his father ushered him out to the car, talking his ear off about potential clients and business partners, but he had completely tuned him out, his mind instead filled with nothing but you. you may have been playing hard to get now, but he was destined to make you his, and rafe cameron always got what he wanted.