#It's such a bittersweet thought that he would keep looking after you and grim even after he's passed away

[dorkus-mcdingus]

Writing this because I'm huffing copium rn and I'm still not over Skully! God that kid was such a huge sweetheart and I hate that we never got to meet him outside of the book! 😭

When you first enter Ramshackle in all of its dusty, dilapidated glory, sure the three ghosts are there to give you one hell of a welcome but for some reason, you felt another presence in the old dorm. You couldn't put your finger on it, but you could tell that the spirit meant no harm. Matter of fact, they seemed to be quite friendly and gentle. Almost as if they're telling you whenever you and Grim come back,

"Rest your weary head. The day is finally over. Go ahead and sleep peacefully tonight."

By the time October rolls around, you start to hear little giggles, maybe the feeling of a kiss on your forehead or hand, as well as the gentle presence of someone guarding you while you sleep. All in all, the odd spirit's presence is far stronger than before. Maybe because they say that October is the month where the veil between the living and the dead grows thinner but once you and your friends get sucked into that book, you hear a gentle voice calling you to wake up as you were sleeping in his arms. You couldn't put your finger on it, but there was something about that boy that seemed familiar but after setting up Halloween with Jack Skellington, you were so excited to meet this boy in the real world but alas, he knew that his time was far beyond yours.

"No... I understand now. I will never meet with you lovely people again. But… We can always meet through Halloween."

When you returned to the real world, you couldn't remember what happened but upon seeing the portrait of that mysterious boy, there was something familiar about him. His warmth, his kindness, that feeling of love and fear around Ramshackle Dorm during Halloween, you finally found out the spirit's name.

"Skully J. Graves."

Call him your guardian angel, the spirit that protects you and your dorm, but what's a Housewarden if he can't look after his students?

[autistichalsin]

Halsin and abandonment issues

One thing I've come to conclude about Halsin's character, based on many parts of his story and some lines he says, is that he might have abandonment issues.

To begin with: he lost his entire family over the years to accidents and disease, per his writer. That's the kind of thing that leaves deep scars- watching everyone you love fade away over years, until at a "comparatively young age" you're the last of your family and turned over to the Druids to be taken care of. (His writer didn't specify an age, but if he was young enough to be "turned over to the Druids" instead of "finding his way there" then it is likely he was not an adult.) There's no time to lose your family that isn't absolutely horrible, but as a young person is far, far worse.

Then there's Halsin's other traumas, all of which involve isolation; he was a prisoner for three years in the Underdark, and despite this, no one thought to come looking for him to save him. He lost most of his fellow Druids in the battle against Ketheric Thorm and the Shadow Curse that followed- and what few didn't die, he still lost their friendship to his leadership position, the "weight of responsibility". His one lasting friend in all of this, Thaniel, was lost to the curse and Halsin spent over 100 years blaming himself, fighting to be the best leader he could at the Grove, and having no one at all he could lean on for any of his burdens. And then he wound up kidnapped again, this time by the goblins, and when he returns, almost all his Druids have been turned against him, some even holding him in contempt. All experiences that are isolating in nature and reinforce to him that he can't rely on anyone else, that he is the only person he can depend on, and that in the end, everyone he cares for is going to leave or die.

It's not just speculation that he feels that way, either. He has several lines about his survivor guilt and isolation:

"[...] there is a burden to being the survivor... the witness to others' tragedies. It only grows heavier with time."

"[...] Grim as it is now, it was worse on the day of the battle. A vivid wound upon my memory. I was lucky - I lived, when so many did not. It would take me a day and a night to recite the names of all the friends I lost."

And lines that indicate he's used to being left, too.

If the player rejects him after he wildshapes (emphasis mine):

"Ah, I see. Well, of course. Back to camp then."

Saying "of course" implies it's not entirely unexpected.

After the final battle, if the player declines to have a celebration and says the party should split up:

"It was always destined to be so, if we prevailed. But the foreknowledge makes it no less bittersweet..."

He was expecting the party not to stick together.

Similarly, if a love-interest player breaks up with him in the ending:

"I see... After all my years of living, I know all too well that nothing lasts forever. Yet a parting can sting, nonetheless. But that just means what we shared was precious, and will live on in my memory. Thank you - I am a richer man for having met you."

The "nothing lasts forever" really sells it, to me, especially because the context makes it clear that he isn't just making a general statement- he's talking about relationships and people. Again- he was expecting it all to end.

His worry in the epilogue, when a solo-romanced player comes to the party with him, hints at this even more: "You could have done anything, gone with anyone... yet you chose me."

He's surprised that the player, even if they're in love, would want to live with him and share his dream. He can't believe they really wanted that- he even says that he keeps expecting to "stir from the dream".

I feel like that shows a lot about how Halsin feels after all the loss he's endured- he doesn't ultimately believe anyone is going to stay with him, whether because they choose to leave him, or because they'll die.

[floxtingdrm]

𝙊𝙣𝙨𝙧𝙖

(n): The bittersweet that love won't last.

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: Angst (with happy ending)

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬: Silver (vanrouge)

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐞: On

𝐓𝐲𝐩𝐞: Oneshot.

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐬: They/them

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: No matter the difference, I know my heart will always look towards you and you only.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: major character death (It's Crowley's).

Perhaps you're the only one who remembered that day the most, despite the joy there was also sadness, those who had a home to go back to, and those who did not.

Crowley died, he died sometime after Malleus's overblot, he died leaving no information of going back to your world. All the time he said he would look for it he lied, he lied to you, he gave you false hope. Home was no longer a place you could return to anymore... Nrc had become your new home.

There was no time for sadness when it came to you, dry those tears (Y/n), it was the day of his graduation.

Silver was your first love when you came to this world, a first love you waited to tell yet never did so, longing for him you could only stare from afar, never did you have the time to spend talking to him or get to know him like you had preferred to.

White hair and aurora eyes, blessings that he was graced with, he was everything you ever wanted maybe that was why he felt so out of reach to you, you could only stare from afar secretly to watch him train, to watch him laugh, to watch him grow from a 2nd year to a 3rd and eventually graduate.

He stood there proud, a future awaited him back in his hometown while no future awaited you beyond the school gates, despite having to leave the school once or twice you still aren't familiar with this world, the world which you don't belong to.

On the other hand was him, secretly admiring your strength from afar, adoring your kindness towards those around you, in love with your existence. If he didn't know any better, he'd thought you were a mage more powerful than Malleus himself for living and braving through all your troubles like that. He... loved you.

As warm as the fire you brightened his dull world, empathy was all that you had shown to those who were against you, even when you hated that person you kept it to yourself not wanting to cause trouble, he saw it all. Maybe as the months grew by, he thought he could have grown closer to you, and maybe eventually talk to you at least once, yet you moved too fast for him, in the blink of an eye you were gone, solving other problems that weren't yours.

Graduation was the last mark of his journey at NRC, proudly standing in his graduation robes he felt more confident than ever. It was strange to see how fast time had gone by for him, it was just like a blink and he met you, another blink and he fell in love, with the last blink however suddenly he's leaving you... a love he might never confess.

"(Y/n)... I- Malleus wanted to invite you to Briar Valley, he thinks it would help you a lot under his power as the crown prince" He couldn't help but lie... But was it wrong to lie when all he wanted was to help you?

"Ah, I see, please tell Malleus I'll be okay here at NRC." Butterflies... it's normal when you're talking to someone you fell in love with, yet you can't help but push them aside to think for your own future and Grim's.

"But it'll be even harder for you here, you can't just keep staying at NRC, because if you do how will any one of us that you know even help you?" He might sound mean, heck he knows he's out of character but he's saying this from the bottom of his heart, his hand held yours tightly. "Please... just let us help you."

"Silver... thank you." You wanted to tell him so much, everything that you've buried from deep within, all the words you know of, the feelings you collected, just looking into his eyes you're weak, yet.. "I can't go, not when this is the only place that I can rely on."

Letting go of his hands you gave him a farewell smile, a smile that tells him so little of what you're hiding from within. Your heart cries as you walk away, you want to stay yet you have to go, leaving him was much harder than it looked. It was no different for him, to see you go it pained him yet who was he to stop you from leaving? You two barely even talked after all.

"One day I will stop falling in love with you... “ Words which you spoke to each other, words you hope were unheard of. “We were never meant to be.”

Life finds away, through the pain and suffering that it has put you, even when that pain and suffering has last so long and it seemed never ending.

Your life after he left wasn’t so different from before, you still lived in the school grounds, being taken care of by the staff of NRC, worked there as a teaching assistant and substitute teacher. Trein, was the one who took care of you the most out of all the staff seeing you as his child above all thing.

When he finally retired after 4 years of working in the school, you took over his place in teaching history and magic demonstration to students. Even as you have no magic Trein helped you a lot in using a type of substitute energy for you to demonstrate that magic, that was how you officially became a teacher at NRC.

In those four years, eventually all your friends including you have graduated, the first years, to be exact the Adeuce duo tried to convince you to move in with them, and just like with Silver you rejected them.

Speaking of which in those 4 years that have passed, the Briar Valley had a improved and changed so much Malleus was on the way to becoming a King, Lilia was still enjoying his retirement, Silver and Sebek had become guards and eventually in that short time Malleus’s personally bodyguards like how they were meant to be.

Silver at the time worried for your state in NRC however couldn’t find a reason nor time to check on you once in a while. He was too busy, his hands tied to training and endless training, attending and caring for Malleus that in a way his mind no longer had a place for you, yet his heart after 4 years did, in his unchanging heart you were always there.

Four years you lived peacefully in those school walls, never leaving unless it was for an event, four years you temporarily took over the school until a new headmaster was administered by the education system. Four years he lived peacefully with his brother in arm, always running for the future king of Briar Valley running to succeed, running to catch up on you.

So when there came a day where the future king was holding his ceremony, he hoped to see you again, Malleus wanted to see you again, Sebek knows he’ll see you again, and Lilia will see you again.

“Pup, I got some news that might interest you, class I gotta borrow your teacher for 20 minutes, don’t cause a problem” Crewel came waltzing into your class to drag you away, he might be your second parent figure to Trein but he’s a good parent figure so you don’t mind.

“…I didn’t even get a say in this.” As soon as you were dragged away your classroom got 10x noisier than before, you are so doubling the amount of homework and assignments.

“Trust me you’ll love to hear this news, it’s about Malleus Draconia.” Crewel stopped dragging you when you both reached the teacher’s lounge.

Sitting you down on the couch of the lounge he handed you the official seal and envelope of the Briar Valley crown prince, soon to be king. It hasn’t been opened yet, you assume that it’s really important when it’s written in such a way, normally malleus would just send you notes like when you were both students, receiving a letter is nice though.

“To Night Raven College, it is with great honor that you are courteous invited to the coronation of Malleus Draconia.” Oh, you didn’t notice, Tsunotaro never told you about anything in your recents note passing so you were quite surprised. “We’d like you to send a representative from your school to the coronation, his Highness looks forward to seeing you all.”

“Looks like a familiar hand writing, say, wasn’t it that pup Silver?” You traced the word written so carefully, how have the time treated him? “Anyways, the staff decided it would be best for you to be the representative”

“Why me? I mean I know the reason might be because I know Malleus and was close to him but, I’m not very experienced-“ Crewel quickly shut you up by turning the letter around and hovering it above fire. “Oh”

“The new teacher will be a substitute to your class while you’re away, don’t be too worried pup.” Is it too late to hide in the Ramshackle dorm. “Also you can’t deny this one or the school is in serious trouble.”

“Fineee” that earned you a pat on the head.

Perhaps it isn’t too bad to go visit them…

Briar Valley was as beautiful as you’d imagine, from the images taken by malleus to the articles you would read in the school computer. You’d never thought you had a chance to re-visit the land of beauty and thorns.

It was clearly different, NRC and Briar Valley, while both carried an aura unchanging with time, they both had their own differences. Festivities everywhere, the streets decorated with thorns and white flowers, in the city you felt lost.

Standing by the place you were meant to wait you can’t help but fantasize what your life would be like if you had been born here and had magic.

“(Y/n)…” After so many years… you still haven’t gotten over the butterflies every time you heard his voice, four years can change someone so much.

“Silver, you’re the one picking me up?” He was in a daze, you looked the same yet different, time only changed the way you looked, yet he could still hear the same person he fell in love with years ago.

“Ah right, the others have been waiting to see you again.” You’ll properly spend your time here, your time next to him, he took your luggage leading you away with him.

“Yeah, I’m glad I came here, I missed everyone” ‘you especially’ was what you wanted to tell him, but maybe that’s a story for another time.

The time you spent with him, despite everyone surrounding you he never seemed to left. As it turned out Malleus had assigned him to be your personal bodyguard.

The joy you shared with him, the main part of being in an entirely different place than school meant exploring for you, to see the joy you shared with him, Silver was truly grateful to Malleus for giving him the chance to spend time with you.

The stories you told him, everything ever since he left you told him, your best friend and closest companion right now was him. Even though it had only been a few days ever since you arrived in Briar Valley you can’t help but feel as if you had been there for such a long time. The tales of his story were also interesting themselves, from him handling work with Sebek to getting postcards from Lilia.

The dances you both had, on the night of the coronation, you were there to see it all, the beauty and joy of people, Sebek crying in joy, Lilia acting proud and finally Silver… who doesn’t seemed to be focusing on the event. Instead it seemed as if he was distracted. As it turned out he was trying his best not to fall asleep, again. When it came to dancing, no one else seemed to ask you, somehow it ended up being you and him, hand in hand, laughing like children while having fun.

The love him expressed oh so quietly, watching you from a far was definitely not like watching you up close, and with each day spent next to you, he can’t help but fall deeper in love. Secretly protecting you from anything that could harm you, talking to you, helping you deal with other representatives, making sure Sebek doesn’t scold you too much when talking to Malleus.

The gifts he gave you, he wasn’t rich per say yet he always liked giving you something, from handmade items he collected and were given by the woodland creatures. Your reactions were always so lovely to see, how cruel were you to smile like that and make him want to hold you in his arms, how dare you act like that making him want to leave everything behind and follow you wherever you go, how could you make him fall in love with you?

For the story that could never happen, as you both have grown up by now there were definitely changes compared to when you were both new graduates. A question you always asked yourself when you looked into those aurora eyes back then, the question you asked yourself when you stayed as he go, the same one happened now that you're seeing him again after so long, how much longer will you wait to tell him?

Could it happen? It might not happen ever in this lifetime, after all, you and he were in a way completely different, it would never work, it could never work, you might break your heart because of this but he deserved better than you. You were grateful to be given the chance to spend time with him, so you used it to its full extent, you were happy with what you had being his close friend...

Two weeks in Briar Valley felt a little too fast for your liking, falling in love with him all over again was beautiful yet at the same time painful when you realized eventually it had to come to an end. Just as he was the one to greet you when you first came to Briar Valley, it was also Silver who's the last person you'll see as you depart for your trip back to NRC.

"Did you forget anything (Y/n)?" Silver asked handing your luggage to you, a heavy heart you looked into his eyes one last time.

"I think that was everything, thanks for helping me one last time SIlver" He looked so happy, you couldn't bring yourself to tell him anything, anything that you've kept.

"It was nice seeing you again so far, promise me you'll stay healthy and happy?" you nodded as you stepped onto the Black Carriage.

"I will" However just as you said those words, it felt as if something had overcome your own rules and senses, and you grabbed his hand.

You felt oddly bitter at this point, he looked a bit confused but if anything Silver was also doing his best to restrain his emotions for you right now. It was quite awkward as you both stood there in silence, you couldn't even look at him right now because of how overwhelming it felt.

"You know this is what I would have done back then when I graduated and you said you stayed" He knows that there's something you wanted to say after so much time had passed you still haven't gotten rid of that bad habit of pleasing people, have you?

"I never knew when it was the right time to tell you, honestly every time I plan to do so... I feel like I was ruining your happiness" You're trying so hard to keep your emotions in check.

"So? You're allowed to be selfish for a little bit (Y/n), everyone was born like this no matter how loving they are." you didn't even notice you were crying until he wiped your tears, they tasted as sweet as he imagined them to be. "Since you allowed me to be so selfish, I think it's only fair if you get to do the same thing."

"...I love you." Through the overwhelmed emotions you told him what you had hidden so long. " 4 years and you'd thought someone would forget they ever fell in love with someone, I love you, Silver."

"..." both standing in silence, you had no other words to describe your current feeling, you were prepared to have your heart broken. "I love you too."

You wondered what the younger you would have said if they saw all of this, maybe they would have been as happy as you were right now, like a song you once heard, your world... although you could no longer return to it you were happy because you have found a new world which you could love.

"How far, how long will we live? I'll try to be strong when you're anxious, this is my promise to you." Under the starry skies, you departed your lover and returned to NRC.

Random skit Idea:

*Lilia, Malleus, and Sebek hiding and observing the scene*

Lilia: NO, NOOOO, YOU SHOULD HAVE KISSED AT THE END, NOOOO-

Malleus: And that concludes our bet, I win~

Sebek: As expected of our king!

Au-notes: Hai, currently writing this at a hospital, thanks for reading.

I know it was a bit different from what you ordered anon about the Diasomnia gang visiting NRC, but I hoped you liked it despite the changes.

Like and reblogs are extremely appreciated, please do so if you've enjoyed my writing thank you!

[melon-colli]

Yapping about Inscryption

Just 'finished' (that's in quotes cause I'm not convinced that the games not DONE done) Inscryption and overall I really enjoyed it! I stopped live blogging after a certain point so heres a post to get those out.

!Spoilers for the whole game under the cut!

>I wasn't too sure about the art style change in Act 2 at first, and the fact that I was dog water at the new card mechanics didn't help, but it really grew on me and so did the new gameplay!

>The other scrybes were really interesting, there wasn't a single one I found boring. If I had to rank them I'd go Leshy<Grimora/P03<Magnificus. Grim and P03 only occupy the same space because I love them both equally.

LUKE CARDER INTERLUDE

>He's so quirky! Love him! Seriously though he was an endearing main character, truly creepypasta protag material. Seeing him get shot in the end really caught me off guard, and honestly shook me a little. Idk but why I didn't expect him to die, especially like that. Expected like a computer monster birthed from the old disk to get him, not for the GameFuna rep to cap him in the face. Had my chest tight for a second. Anyways rip bro, raising my mantis god to the sky.

>As for Act 3, I liked it! P03 is such a delightful dickhead, who I just know would be so annoying about Pokemon natures. Botopia was less immersive than Leshy's campaign, and I like what that says about P03's character, who cares way more about gameplay. This chapter's talking cards have my heart. Lonely Wizard specifically, but Angler was nice for the 5 minutes I knew him. (I traded him for another card specifically because he said 'choose me'. Sorry man I thought you had a plan)

>Obligatory Goobert Mention. Great guy, glad his pain was lessened by the tubes. Idk why you still want to go back to Magnificus, but I wont tell you what to do.

>The Uber bot bosses were still pretty interesting for a bot who supposedly doesn't care much abt crafting characters. I made my own special hell for the Make-your-own boss. Where for every dead card, another is drawn. P03 tried to stop me multiple times, but I was determined. For phase two I just chose leap bots for every dead card. Silly boss. Golly was also a sweetheart, loved the mole. As for the scribe Uberbot, the file deletion threat didn't get me nearly as bad since I came off of Kinitopet and knew the game couldn't actually do something like that and be on steam, but it still had me a little nervous lol (cause like what if it did?).

I got weirdly giddy at the prospect of finding the pelt man again. Idk why because I despised him in Act 1, Got a few pelts but never actually found him. Got scammed at the mart cause I thought buying the pelt would make him show up lol.

>Falling into the factory and seeing the 3 scribes just standing there scared me a little, thought they were gonna jump me.

>After that part, going back to P03 knowing what's going to happen, I felt a bit bad. At first. Sure P03's a smug jerk, but it just wanted to be free right? The walk back when it's reminiscing about the game amped this feeling up, but I love that the game yanked the rug from under me and went 'yeah no this puter just sucks' once it starts gloating. Lol. lmao. Also I didn't expect Leshy to just rip its head off wtf bro.

>Saying goodbye to everyone at the end was sad. Having one last game with the Scrybes was so bittersweet. Grimora's game was interesting, and its a crime we didn't have time for a boss battle. Leshy. Leshy I love you so much. I like that Magnificus wasn't going gentle into that good night at first, but his insistence to keep going lost him the chance to shake our hand. I was never super into his play style, but his game was really cool looking, even if im not super into that stuff. (I know the arm thing had something to do with Yugi-oh but I know nothing abt it sorry).

>The lead up to unzipping the Old Code was done so well. Grimora may have nuked the game to get rid of it, but Luke's curiosity still doomed him in the end. The totem lady's last words before we found it were quite unsettling. I don't know what was on that zip, but whatever it was clearly messed Luke up.

>I loved the ending of the game. Already talked about it in the Luke section, but it was so abrupt and final. Idk what I expected but I knew it was over when Luke opened the door for the Funa rep. Rip.

Overall, 10/10 game. There's still something called Kaycees mod for me to do, but all in all I really enjoyed it!

[duel-king]

// HNY everyone!!! :D

Pls heed the cw tags before reading past the cut.

*dumps this monster whump on the dash and runs away* //

"...The dragon flaps its mighty wings, and then..." Seto glances over his shoulder and sees that Mokuba is sound asleep, before he could even finish the story. He smiles as he quietly folds the book shut and slowly rises from where he was sitting on the bed. He gently shuts the door behind him and heads down the hall.

"Seto!! My BOY!! C'mere!!" Gozaburo beckons him over boisterously. It's New Year's Eve and he's been entertaining and drinking with coworkers and colleagues and the like. Seto feels his mouth run dry as he gets a look at everyone in the room, red-faced and grinning stupidly at him. He greets them silently with a bow and hurries to Gozaburo's side before he has to tell him a second time.

"Yes, father?" He asks sullenly, still feeling all the eyes in the room on him.

"Why so grim, Seto? Always so serious..." He grips Seto's shoulder and practically forces him down onto the seat next to his. "Sit."

"It's almost a new year, son..." He begins, putting on a pantomime of paternal affection for his idiot drunk friends. He reaches over to grab a carafe of dark amber liquor, fills a glass about halfway and hands it to his stepson.

"...Which makes you a year closer to manhood. Cheers." Seto clenches his jaw. I'm fucking 12... he wants to say, but his mouth remains shut tight.

Gozaburo clinks his own glass to Seto's before downing it like it's water. The boy hesitantly raises his glass to his lips. The whiskey smells strong and sickly bittersweet, and his blank expression involuntarily twists into a grimace. He can hear snickering from the other men in the room.

"Oh for Christ's sake Seto, DRINK." His stepfather commands, and Seto empties the glass with a single gulp so he can hopefully retreat to his room. He shuts his eyes tightly as the alcohol burns going down his throat. It tastes as bad as it smells. A tremor runs through his body as the warmth settles in his chest, and he coughs into his free hand. He can feel his face grow hot. The snickering around him evolves into hooting and cheering.

"'Atta boy!! That'll put a little hair on your chest, eh?" Gozaburo remarks with a hearty chuckle and, without hesitation, refills Seto's glass along with his own.

"Father, I--" he begins to object hoarsely, but Gozaburo won't hear it.

"This is an expensive vintage, son. Don't waste it," he scolds. "Consider this a reward for all of your hard work this year," He says this with a smile, but there's a challenge in his eyes. "Before you know it, you'll be drinking with us after a long day of work, and you're gonna need to keep up!! As a Kaiba, you have a reputation to uphold." He continues to lecture him as he rises from his seat.

Seto obediently takes another swig of whiskey. It's slightly less unpleasant going down this time, but not much. When he finishes this glass several minutes later, he rises from his seat, preparing to excuse himself as his stepfather is distracted handing out cigars to his guests.

"Gentlemen, it was a pleasure. Happy New Year to you all, and get home safely," Seto courteously bows again and feels the blood rush to his head. He was moving a little too hastily and he barely got that farewell out without stumbling over his words.

"I didn't excuse you!!" Gozaburo shouts through the cigar clenched between his teeth. "You can AT LEAST make it til midnight. Then maybe papa will read you a bedtime story," he mocks as he strides over to Seto, carafe in hand, and pours him a third glass.

"...Apologies, father." He replies stiffly. Normally he would have snapped back at an insult like that, but he can't bear the thought of getting smacked in front of a room full of people.

"Don't apologize to me, apologize to our guests!" His stepfather chastises, prolonging Seto's embarrassment.

"...Beg your pardon, sirs. That was rude of me." The apology earns him a placated grin from his stepfather as he lights his cigar; a few of the guests merely nod in acknowledgment, and the room nearly falls silent as cigars are being lit and puffed on.

Time passes at an agonizingly slow pace--this horrible year just refuses to end. Some of Gozaburo's associates take interest in Seto and start questioning him about his studies and his ambitions as the heir to the Kaiba Corporation. The air in the room becomes thick with cigar smoke and it makes his stomach turn and head ache, but the liquor makes it easier for him to fake a smile and lie through his teeth. He just parrots the responses he knows Gozaburo and his sycophants would like to hear, and it seems to go over fairly well.

The antique grandfather clock finally tolls Midnight, and the room explodes with cheers. Gozaburo's booming voice cuts through the din as he raises his glass in the air.

"A toast-- to Seto and the future of KaibaCorp!!" His toast is returned with an enthusiastic, collective "Hear! Hear!" and everyone raises their glass to join Gozaburo's before drinking again. No sooner than Seto taking that last sip does his gut churn, deciding that everything must go. He immediately turns and makes a bee-line for the door, setting his glass on the nearest surface and covering his mouth with one hand.

But it's too late. His body forces the whiskey out, violently. The room erupts into raucous laughter as Seto is keeled over, heaving and retching. Gozaburo, the loudest of them all, makes his way past his guests and over to his inebriated stepson.

"What did I tell you about wasting this booze?!" He slaps Seto on the back so hard that he falls over face-first into his own vomit.

"Mhahahaha!! Better luck next year, son!!" Gozaburo is the only one left laughing. Seto lays motionless on the floor for a moment, stupefied and completely humiliated. His eyes well up with tears.

No. no no no no nonononono...!! He scolds himself. He's able to pull himself up to his hands and knees, but seeing his mess on the floor and all over his clothes makes him ill all over again. Gozaburo shouts for one of the maids, and two come running.

"Get the boy cleaned up and put to bed." He orders with a sneer. One of the maids hurries to the nearby linen closet to find something to wipe up the floor while the other gingerly helps Seto to his feet and walks him down the hall, slowly but surely. "It's alright, Master Seto..." she coos once they're out of earshot. What little energy he has left is spent focusing on keeping one foot in front of the other and he just stares blankly ahead, saying nothing.

A while later, Seto is still kneeled over the toilet in his bathroom, his breath ragged and hair stuck to his face with sweat. He hears his bedroom door creak open, but doesn't look up.

"Big brother? ...Are you okay?" Mokuba whispers fretfully as he approaches.

"...'m fine, Moki... Jus sick..." He rasps. "Sorry for waking you..." He whimpers and his shoulders rack with silent sobs, but he's so dehydrated he can't cry even if he wanted to. He looks awful, Mokuba worries. He's pale and sweaty, breathing heavily, slurring his words. His eyes are bloodshot from all the strain of dry heaving for god knows how long.

"Don't be sorry!!" Mokuba kneels down by his brother's side and pats and rubs his back, like Seto does for him when his tummy hurts. His hair isn't long enough for Mokuba to need to hold it back for him, though. He's not quite sure what to do. Then, the little one has an idea. "I'll be right back!"

A few minutes later, Mokuba returns with a glass of iced water and a pack of crackers.

"Hope this helps," Mokuba says, doing his best to smile reassuringly. Seto smiles back lazily, gratefully accepting the help and taking the glass of water in hand. Mokuba unwraps the crackers and hands them to him as he eagerly gulps the water down.

"...Thanks Moki.... you're... the best."

*

*

*

*

// 2023 has been an absolute shitshow for me, ngl lol. So, to relieve myself of all this angst, I give you... this. Hope you... uhh... enjoyed...??

May 2024 bring us all better days. <3 //

[squishbee]

Gorgeous 🍎 (Vil x reader song ficlet thing)

now playing:

Gorgeous - Taylor Swift

0:01 ❍─────── 3:32

🎵You should take it as a compliment that I'm talking to everyone here but you 🎵

You and Grim managed to bring all the dorms together to have a party. There wasn’t a specific reason it was just a fun thing you wanted to do. You bribed Grim to hand out invitations to all the dorm leaders in exchange for tuna. Out of all the breathtaking men there, one in particular had your interest in his grasp. Vil Schoenheit

🎵If you've got a girlfriend, I'm jealous of her. But if you're single that's honestly worse. 'Cause you're so gorgeous it actually hurts 🎵

You haven’t had many interactions with the Pomefiore leader yet so you didn’t know much about him, besides general info everyone knew. You hoped he didn’t belong to someone already, but you would be shocked if he didn’t.

🎵 Ocean blue eyes looking in mine. I feel like I might sink and drown and die 🎵

You must have been staring at him for too long, because he felt it. He turns and captivates your gaze with his eyes. After a few long seconds of looking into each other, he gives a slight polite smile.

🎵You're so gorgeous, I can't say anything to your face 🎵

Should you go over and greet him? It would be normal to do since you are the host of the party. His beauty is just so intimidating.

🎵 And I'm so furious at you for making me feel this way. But what can I say? You're gorgeous 🎵

Ugh, how dare he have such charming looks. It almost feels like a crime. Feeling so torn, unsure how to converse with him. Just do it. Worst he can say is no, right? Rejection sure is scary though.

You walk up to him and give somewhat of a friendly bow. “I’m so glad you and your dorm decided to come. I hope the party is to your liking.” You tell him. You were so nervous in the back of your mind. “It is quite nice, but could use some more purple decorations.” He says half serious-half jokingly. “Well, I’ll try to remember next time.” You say with a laugh

🎵You make me so happy, it turns back to sad, yeah. There's nothing I hate more than what I can't have🎵

He’s a celebrity. What chance do you even have with him romantically? Thoughts like that eating you up inside change the moment to bittersweet. After the small interaction, you went back to hanging out with your friends, Ace and Deuce. You weren’t sure how to keep going after squashing your own confidence, so you left things short and polite.

🎵Guess I’ll just stumble on home to my cats alone🎵

After Ace and Deuce helped you clean up once the party was over, you and Grim headed back to the Ramshackle dorm. It was more like your home than a dorm at this point, since you had nowhere else to go.

You did your nightly routines then laid down in bed. When sleep was about to take over, your phone dinged. It was from Vil (all of the students numbers are programmed in your phone in case you need help).

Vil: You’re so gorgeous💜 I can’t say anything to your face

Was this him texting a confession?

You: Huh?

Vil: I’m sorry if this seems out of nowhere, but you intrigue me. Getting to talk to you face-to-face, even briefly, makes me want to know you more.

It seems you weren’t the only one unsure how to speak at the party today.

You: Wow. I was feeling the same way. That’s why I barely said anything because I was nervous 😳

Vil: Well if you’d like to get over that nervousness, hang out with me tomorrow. I know a good coffee spot

You: I’d love to that sounds so fun

Vil: See you tomorrow then,

gorgeous

[hd-junglebook]

Edge of Exile

Part 7

With Clarke and Finn off to retrieve Abby from camp Jaha, you found yourself, Bellamy, Octavia, and Nyko alone at the dropship. The night had sapped your energy, leaving you in need of a moment of respite.

Stepping outside, you sought solace in the cool night air. A nearby log beckoned, and you sank onto it, letting out a sigh of relief.

Pulling your notebook from the bag Kane had given you, you flipped it open, the pages whispering softly in the quiet.

Charcoal in hand, you let your thoughts drift as you sketched, the rough paper accepting the strokes with ease.

A scene from memory emerged under your fingertips—the warmth of a campfire, the laughter of friends. Harper sat cross-legged by the fire, her laughter infectious as Miller pretended to scowl at her terrible joke.

The lines took shape, capturing the moment in all its fleeting beauty. With each stroke, you felt a sense of calm wash over you, the worries of the day momentarily forgotten.

"That's really good," Bellamy's voice broke the peaceful silence from behind you, and you glanced up to find him watching your sketch with a somber expression.

"Thanks," you replied softly, your fingers stilling on the page. "Helps keep the memories close, you know?"

"We'll get them back, somehow," he said, his voice tinged with determination.

You and Bellamy sat beneath the dazzling expanse of stars, leaving behind the chaos of the past two hours to simply breathe. "There's Monoceros," you said, pointing towards a constellation. "Named after the unicorn."

Bellamy grinned, a hint of nostalgia in his eyes. "My mom used to read Greek mythology stories to me at night. Perseus and Medusa were my favorite."

His expression softened with the memory. "It was the only thing that helped me sleep after... after my mother was floated." He faltered, pain flashing across his face.

"Tell me about her?" you asked gently, sensing his need to share.

Bellamy stared at the stars, his jaw tightening before he began haltingly. "She was fiercely passionate... she was just like Octavia. I got my temper from her, that's for sure."

"She made the choice to have Octavia because she couldn't give up that hope of something more. Even though it cost her in the end." His voice grew hoarse with emotion, and you moved closer, offering silent support.

He looked at your face, eyes glistening in the moonlight. "She would've liked you," he said thickly.

Your heart constricted at the intensity in his eyes. There was nothing you could say to ease this pain, but you hoped your presence could offer some small comfort.

"When this is all over... I hope you get the peace you deserve," you whispered.

His fingers grazed your cheek lightly, and you shivered but didn't pull away. The rest of the world fell away, and it was just the two of you, drawn together in this perfect, fragile moment.

His touch was gentle, but a voice echoed in your mind, a warning from Raven about getting too close to Bellamy, about the dangers of falling for someone who would leave you.

You hesitated, fear flickering in your heart.

If you crossed this line with Bellamy only to lose him... that would break you. The risk felt too great. There was so much uncertainty ahead. So you gently pulled back and offered a bittersweet smile. "We should go back inside. Clarke will be back soon."

…

Abby leaned back, her face grim as she stopped compressions on Lincoln’s still chest. “It’s been too long. I’m calling it.”

“Abby!” you cried out, your voice thick with desperation as you pushed past her aggressively, refusing to accept Lincoln’s fate.

Your hands moved with fierce determination as you began pumping his chest, the rhythm of your actions fueled by sheer willpower. Octavia wept inconsolably beside you, her grip tight on Lincoln’s limp hand. “Please don’t leave me...” she choked out.

“Come on, stay with us!” you pleaded under your breath, each compression a prayer for Lincoln's life.

The hatch flew open behind you, Lexa and Clarke rushed in. Lexa's gaze swept over the scene, fury igniting in her eyes at the sight of Lincoln no longer breathing and Abby standing defeatedly back. A moment of tense silence passed around the room before Lexa signaled to Indra.

“Indra, kill them all,” Lexa commanded, her voice cold and unforgiving.

The grounders snatched their swords, the metallic clang echoing ominously in the air as they prepared to carry out the order.

As Indra stepped forward menacingly, you abandoned CPR and grabbed the shock baton from Lincoln’s discarded gear, a desperate plan forming in your mind.

Clarke's eyes widened with fear, her silent plea to Bellamy her eyes telling Bellamy to pick up his rifle as she positioned herself between you and Indra.

“Let us help him, Commander. Please,” she implored, her voice thick with urgency.

“Enough!” Lexa finally commanded, her gaze shifting to you on the ground. “You lied, and you're out of time.”

Before anyone could react, you stabbed the baton to Lincoln’s chest and triggered a powerful jolt. His body convulsed violently, his back arching off the floor, but you held firm, determination etched in every line of your face. Clarke's voice pierced through the chaos, demanding you to do it again.

“Hit him again,” she urged, her eyes locking with yours.

You followed her orders without hesitation, pushing the baton onto his chest once more.

After a suspended moment that felt like an eternity, Lincoln gasped and sputtered back to life, his chest heaving with ragged breaths. Octavia cried out, flinging her arms around him in relief and disbelief.

Lowering the baton, you met Lexa’s livid gaze unflinchingly, your defiance hanging heavy in the air as the commander sheathed her sword, her fury momentarily quelled by the miracle before her.

…

With Lincoln revived and the immediate threat quelled, you and Clarke found yourselves walking side by side towards Lexa's tent.

"I can't believe you did that," Clarke said, her voice a mix of awe and concern.

"I couldn’t have done it without you.” You shrugged, offering Clarke a small smile in return. She didn't argue, knowing you were right. Instead, she changed the subject.

As you reached Lexa's tent, Clarke paused, her expression troubled. "I need to warn you about something. When Lexa and I met earlier, she seemed... interested in you."

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Me? Why?"

Clarke hesitated, choosing her words carefully. "I'm not sure. But she asked about you, your skills, your loyalty. She seemed intrigued."

You frowned, a sense of unease settling in the pit of your stomach. "What do you think she wants with me?"

"I don't know," Clarke admitted, her voice tinged with worry. "But be careful.

With a shared glance, you both entered Lexa's tent, the atmosphere shifted. The sandy ground beneath your feet muffled your steps, adding to the aura of solemnity that pervaded the space.

Lexa sat regally in one of the black chairs, her gaze steady and inscrutable as she watched you both approach.

"Commander," Clarke greeted respectfully, her voice carrying a hint of tension.

"Clarke," Lexa acknowledged, her tone neutral. Her eyes flickered briefly to you, a spark of curiosity igniting within them before returning to Clarke. "And you must be..."

"Y/n," you interjected, stepping forward to meet Lexa's gaze head-on. There was a moment of silence as you felt her assessing you, weighing your words and actions with a keen eye.

"Y/n," Lexa repeated, her voice thoughtful. "Clarke has spoken highly of you."

You inclined your head in acknowledgment, a sense of pride swelling within you at the implied praise. "Thank you, Commander.”

Lexa's lips quirked in a small smile, a rare display of warmth that softened the severity of her features. "I witnessed your bravery today.” Lexa glanced at you, her eyes searching.

"Lincoln's recovery was..” She paused for a moment, searching for the right word.

“Impressive. No one's ever survived such a fate before." You glanced at Clarke, who met your gaze evenly. It seemed Lexa's interest in you was not merely superficial but borne out of genuine respect for your actions.

Clarke's face was etched with weary determination as she took a deep breath, “We just have to keep them alive long enough for the drug to leave their system. I know we can do that same for others.”

Turning her attention back to Clarke, Lexa's expression shifted, the intensity in her gaze softening as she regarded the other woman.

"Clarke, you have proven yourself to be a formidable leader. Your alliance with Y/n could prove beneficial for both our people."

Clarke's posture relaxed slightly at the recognition, a hint of relief evident in her eyes. "Thank you, Commander. I believe together, we can achieve great things.

Lexa nodded in agreement, her gaze shifting between the two of you. "You may have your truce," she remarked cryptically, her words carrying an unknown weight.

“I just need one thing in return. Deliver me the one you call Finn.”

the weight of Lexa's demand settled between you, Clarke paled beside you, her eyes wide with shock and disbelief. She turned to you, seeking support and guidance in the face of such a harrowing request.

"Please, let's talk this through reasonably," Clarke implored, her voice steady despite the hint of desperation in her eyes. "If we turn against each other, the Mountain Men will destroy us both."

But Lexa's resolve remained unyielding, her frigid glare piercing through the tension that hung heavy in the air. "The massacre of my people cannot go unanswered. Blood must have blood."

Clarke persisted, gently suggesting alternatives, but Lexa refused to entertain any idea but her people's vengeance. "Our ways are harsh so that our people survive," she declared. "We do not shy from the hard choices. If you are too weak to accept that, you will perish here."

You felt the heat rise in your cheeks at the insult, the urge to lash out burning hot within you. But Clarke's cautioning look held you back, reminding you of the delicate balance that hung in the air.

"We understand, and we want justice too," you interjected, your voice edged with defiance as you stepped closer to Clarke.

"But surely we can come to an arrangement that doesn't end in more deaths. Imprisonment, banishment..."

Lexa's expression remained impassive, unmoved by your words. "We must have retribution," she insisted coldly. "If you will not deliver Finn to face punishment, the alliance is void."

Clarke's gaze flickered with uncertainty, but she remained composed as she spoke. "Tell us what you propose. We want justice and peace between our people. Help us understand your ways."

Satisfied, Lexa detailed the ritual with chilling detachment: Finn bound and kneeling before the victims' families, his death by their hands after prolonged torture. 1000 cuts.

The gruesome description made your stomach turn violently, the reality of Lexa's demands sinking in with sickening finality.

Lexa's ultimatum hung heavy in the air, you exchanged a silent, troubled glance with Clarke, knowing that the path ahead would be fraught with impossible choices and unfathomable consequences.

But with the fate of your people hanging in the balance, there was no room for hesitation or doubt.

…

Clarke stormed from Lexa's tent, you following behind her in disgust, each heavy footfall echoed the weight of the impossible choice laid before you.

Sacrificing Finn for the alliance clashed violently with every instinct, the knowledge of Clarke's affection for him and his status as one of your people weighing heavily on your conscience.

But Lexa's cold logic, however callous, resonated with a grim truth. The lives of your people had to come first, even at the cost of one of your own.

Clarke turned before you, her eyes stormy with emotion, her voice cracking with anger as she confronted you. "How could you?" she demanded, her words laced with accusation. "Finn doesn't deserve this!"

You hesitated, the words catching in your throat as you struggled to reconcile your convictions with the harsh reality before you. "Finn murdered innocent people. Their families deserve justice.”

Clarke stepped closer, her voice dropping to an urgent whisper, desperation flickering in her eyes. "But not like this. Lexa's way is barbaric—it goes against everything we stand for!"

You faced her, sympathy and regret washing over you like a wave crashing against the shore. "Believe me, if there was any other way..."

"There has to be!" Clarke insisted feverishly, her voice rising with desperation. "Saving Finn is what's best! If that means no alliance, so be it," she shot back, her resolve unyielding.

You paused, the weight of Clarke's plea heavy on your shoulders, each word a painful reminder of the impossible choice you faced.

"I know you care about Finn too," she continued, her grip tightening on your arm, forcing you to meet her distraught gaze again. "Please, don't give up on him."

"I’m sorry, Clarke. I know you love him. But there is no other way. The alliance was the only way forward."

…

In the dimly lit room, you and your mother stood side by side, watching with heavy hearts as your father was escorted into the airlock chamber. Your heart aching with each step he took towards his inevitable fate.

Tears welled in your eyes as you watched him, but it was your mother's steady voice that broke through the suffocating silence, her words a beacon of strength in the midst of despair. She turns to you, her eyes filled with a mixture of sorrow and determination.

"You must be strong, my dear," she whispered, her hand resting gently on your shoulder. "Life is filled with challenges, with things that frighten us. do not be afraid to do what may seem like the wrong thing when it is the right choice.”

Her words linger in the air as your tears blur your vision as you stumble forward, your feet carrying you instinctively towards the glass partition that separates you from your father. His eyes meet yours, a silent plea for strength and courage passing between you.

"Be strong," he mouths, his words barely audible over the hum of machinery and the rush of your own heartbeat. And then, with a final, heartbreaking glance, he is gone, swallowed by the unforgiving void of space.

You collapse into your mother's arms.

[missglittersmiles]

Sound Mind & Heart CH. 3

AOT Various × Fem! Reader

Prev Chapter

There wasn't much time to converse with one another. The garrison regiment gathered everyone to divide into squads. The cadets were assigned different streets while most of the garrison led the charge.

Unfortunately, y/n wasn't paired up with Marco or Jean. She wasn't even able to see either of them as everyone rushed around. She was assigned to squad thirty. That meant she was with Mian Coraline, Floch Forster, Emeric Biermann, Conrad Wendell, and Susanne Wendell. There were a few familiar faces, at least.

Going into battle was terrifying. Some of y/n's squad mates were struggling to even bring themselves out to fight. The squad's anxieties wouldn't improve when they faced their first titan. It looked so human, but at the same time it was completely unnatural. y/n found herself trying to put a face to the disgusting creature.

Throwing away that thought, she went for the kill while everyone was distracting it. Seeing her sword tear through the titan's flesh was surprisingly exhilarating. To say that something clicked in her might be an understatement. After that first kill, she couldn't stop moving. With each one that fell, she looked for her next kill. She zoomed to them with her ODM gear, not bothering to be cautious, resulting in her almost being grabbed multiple times. Still, in the end, she'd always deeply cut the nap of their neck.

It was almost like she was having fun.

Mian would catch up to the girl. "You need to be careful with your gas usage." y/n would hear Mian's words, but y/n would ignore her. This dopamine rush she was getting wasn't like anything she had experienced. Greedily, she would keep chasing this high. She didn't care if this got her killed in the end. This was how she wanted to go out.

Nearing the hour mark, everyone was tired and worryingly low on supplies. y/n had so little gas that she basically had none left. They seem in the clear for now, but it was only a matter of time before another titan came crawling up on them. Most of the group sat on the rooftops of houses. While they sent two people to check out what was taking the group in charge of supplies so long.

y/n laid back on the rooftop. Her arms rested behind her head, and her legs were crossed while she looked up at the sky. 'It would have been such a nice day, wouldn't it? But hey, at least you get to enjoy this wonderful weather before you die. So it's not all bad.'

She kept telling herself that this wasn't the worst thing and closed her eyes. Then thoughts of her friends came. All those laughs that were shared, punches that were exchanged during training. Each face made her heart get heavier and heavier. And of course her mind ended up going to closest friends. Jean and Marco.

She kind of regretted telling Marco those dressed-up lies. She wished that she and Jean left off on a better note, even if it was bittersweet. At least they knew a fraction of how much they meant to her. She couldn't ever fully express it into words, but at least they had that idea.

'I wonder if you guys are even alive now.' She shook that grim thought away. There was no need to bring down her already fragile optimism. 'Maybe they did, but I doubt it. Jean isn't stupid, not completely anyway; he isn't going to die so easily. And Marco…he's…he's…'

"The supply depot is by titans." y/n felt the carefree smile fall for a moment before repairing. Everyone erupted into panic. She opened her eyes and stared at the sky as her squad became more distressed by the second. She tried to think of something, but her mind went blank. 'You two can't die on me. It wouldn't be fair if you guys die before me.'

One of her squadmates kicked her in the side so hard that she started rolling. She probably would have fallen off the roof if she hadn't grabbed the edge of the rooftop and Mian grabbed her arm. "There is no need for that, Conrad!" Mian yelled before pulling y/n back on the roof. Once y/n was back on her feet, Mian asked, "Are you okay, y/n?"

y/n gave Main a small smile and a head nod. "Yeah, thanks for that." Then they turned to Conrad, who was marching up to them. His face was red, and he was grinding his teeth. He might as well have steam coming out of his ears. Realizing that he was coming up to y/n, Main jumped in front of him, arms wide out. "I know you're scared, but there's no reason to take that out on y/n!"

It was an amusing sight. y/n was one of the tallest girls in their class, and here was little Mian. Standing in front of y/n as her line of defense. Though it seemed like Conrad was only seeing red and swatted Mian like she was a fly. Their other squad mates tried to hold him back or at the very least calm him down.

He grabbed the collar of y/n's jacket and pushed his face into hers. "During all of this, you've just been smiling! Laughing even! People are dying, and now we're just sitting ducks without any supplies! Or did you not hear that!? We're not going to be able to refill on gas! Or do you have some grand plan to get us out of this!?" As Conrad yelled, some spit landed on her face. But she couldn't even bring herself to grimace at it.

She was too taken back by Conrad. Her eyes scanned the squad. Mian was standing back, rubbing her arm that was probably bruised. Floch hasn't stopped crying since he heard the news of the depot. Susanne and Emeric were trying to pull Conrad away from y/n.

In all of their faces was desperation. Even as Conrad lashed out at y/n, his voice conveyed his pure fear and hopelessness. Looking into his dark brown eyes was nothing but desperation. Desperation that held hope. Hope that y/n's relaxed demeanor meant she had a full foolproof plan to get everyone out of this alive. She wouldn't be smiling wearily if she had nothing up her sleeve, right?

"Conrad! That's enough!" Susanne yelled at her twin brother as she finally pulled him away. Then she started scolding him for his behavior. "People cope in different ways. Just leave y/n alone. She hasn't done anything wrong."

Emeric added, "She's been killing titans left and right. You haven't gotten a single kill. Don't act like she hasn't been doing anything."

"I wasn't implying that in the first place! You haven't even killed any titans either! Floch has been sitting on his ass the whole time crying! We're all fucking dead!" Floch didn't even bother to defend himself. Crying and hiccuping prayers to himself.

Mian and Susanne were trying their best to distinguish the fire between two boys now. Insults were flying at both sides.

y/n walked up to Floch, not bothering to interact with Conrad out of fear of getting him more fired up than he already was. "Are you good?" Hearing that the voice was close by, Floch looked up. There was no smile on her face. Not even a weak one; it seems like she gained some situational awareness.

He gave her a look. As if to say if that was the right question to ask when his eyes were red and puffy. She shifted her weight to one leg and shifted her eyes away. "Sorry, that wasn't a good question to ask."

She watched at the four still going at it before speaking up again. "You have a lot of gas left, right?" His voice was hoarse, and it sounded like he was going to cry again. "Yeah, I-I have some." She looked at Floch and asked, "Do you think you have enough to make it to Wall Rose and carry someone with you?"

Hearing her words, Emeric turned to them. "Not everyone has enough to get to the wall." Conrad stopped fighting and looked y/n in the eyes. "So you're planning on abandoning us? Use Floch and let us get eaten? Was that your plan the whole time, wasn't it, y/n!? You fucking whore!" Susanne slapped her brother across the face. Telling him to shut up already.

Emeric looked at Wall Rose, then back at Floch and y/n. "I don't think any of us could make it. We're practically in the middle of Trost, not to mention having to out maneuver titans." Floch started hiccuping before it quickly evolved into crying. Everyone went silent, trying to come up with something else.

"Could we wait for reinforcements?" Mian asked. Her eyes darted between the group, hoping for someone to say something. "We don't even know how long that would be. Even then, by the time reinforcements come, we could already be in a titan's stomach." Hearing what Conrad said, Floch curled into himself, slightly muffling his crying.

No one could find any words. There were no solid enough plans to voice. Any false hope will be shot down by Conrad. It felt like they really were going to just die here.

'ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʟᴇᴛ ᴍᴀʀᴄᴏ ��ɪᴇ.'

y/n looked over her shoulder to see no one there. That voice sounded as clear as day, like they were right next to her. It wasn't recognizable. She couldn't even put a face to it, but if she had to, it sounded like a girl. Maybe someone around her age. She glanced at her squad to see that none of them reacted. They were all wallowing in their helplessness.

She would have slapped herself. All this stress was making her hear voices now, but it made her realize something. If she was dealing with a supply shortage, then Marco and Jean are as well. No one could make it to the supply depot. Not with titans crawling all around it.

Once again, she found herself looking up at the sky like it'd provide some sort of answer for her. "If I find out that either of you are dead, know that I'll…I'll follow right behind you." y/n quietly mumbled to herself before looking back at her group.

"How many titans were there?" She asked Emeric and Susanne. Susanne didn't answer right away, only asking why she wanted to know. Emeric gave her the answer she wanted: "We couldn't see all of them. There were at least seven from where we were standing, but there's a lot, no doubt more."

"Do you think…" y/n couldn't bring herself to say the words. It sounded so stupid that it might have been something Eren would say. The others look at her with mild concern. For the first time today, she shared the same desperate look in her eyes.

"Do you think we could kill enough titans to get into the depot?" Everyone looked at her like she was going mad, but she kept talking. "We could refill our gas. With that, we could finish off any other titans that remain." She waited to hear their response.

Susanne spoke up first. "I think it could work." Her brother started listing off all the reasons this could go wrong. "It's better than waiting here. I think we should do it." Mian said. Everyone, aside from Floch, looked at Emeric. Awaiting for his vote. "Do you believe this is possible?" Of course y/n didn't believe in this. "Honestly, I'm not sure." She allowed herself to half-heartedly lie.

Emeric sighed, "It might work, but if you had more gas, I think we'd have a better chance." She raised her eyebrows, which made him roll his eyes. "You've been killing titans like you had years of experience. You've even dulled most of your blades." She mentally hit herself to keep herself from smiling. 'We're probably going to die. Now isn't the time to get flustered over being praised.'

"I'll give y/n my gas and blades then." Susanne volunteered. Conrad was quick to shut down the idea as always. "Then you'd be left behind. We could just leave y/n behind. You said that we'd have a better chance with y/n. That means we still have a chance." His last sentence sounded more pleading and less aggressive than the rest.

"We aren't leaving anymore behind. Right? No one's going to be..." Mian slowly realized while speaking that someone would have to. "y/n didn't preserve her gas. It's her own fault. She brought this on to herself." Conrad hissed.

Much to everyone's surprise, y/n seemed to relax. She shrugged her shoulders slightly. "As long as someone tries to clear out the depot, you can leave me behind." Silence fell upon the group once more.

Conrad clenched his fists and took a deep breath. "Floch should be the one to trade his gas and blades with y/n. He's mostly been hiding behind chimneys the whole time." Floch's crying came to an abrupt halt. He picked up his head and slowly turned his head to look at Conrad with betrayal.

Susanne started taking off her gas tanks and walking towards y/n. Seeing what his sister was doing, Conrad went to stop her, but Emeric held him back. "You're the one who can get us out of this mess. Don't overuse it again." Susanne told y/n. y/n nodded her head, "I won't. I promise you that." As the two traded, Conrad screamed. Trying to get out of Emeric's grasp.

When y/n was ready, Conrad had begrudgingly accepted their plan. Before they took off, he exchanged a few words with his sister. "I'm sorry for slapping you. You kind of—no. You definitely deserved it." Susanne said with a smile. She was trying so hard to hide her fear to keep Conrad from staying behind with her.

"I think you should take the charge." Emeric told y/n. "With this being your plan and all."

"Yeah, sure."

Emeric and y/n kept their backs turned away from the twins as they talked. They tried to give the two some semblance of privacy as they said their final goodbyes. Once the twins were done, the group jumped off the roof. No one dared to look behind them. Only Conrad did. Yelling at her, "We'll be back for you! I promise!"

'You can't just say things like that.' y/n thought as the wind went through her hair. 'But I'm sorry, Susanne. Thank you for believing me. We'll try our best to get back to you before anything happens.'

It didn't take them long to get to the supply depot. They were right; it was surrounded by titans. They weren't going to be able to make it through the front door, but Emeric suggested going to the top. There was a watchtower, meaning there was a trapdoor. Going through that trap door meant that they wouldn't have to engage with too many titans.

y/n would take down the titans to make a clear path for the others. Just as Emeric had latched on to the watchtower and began moving up it, a large titan reached out for him. It had knocked down half of the watchtower and taken Emeric in one fell swoop.

"What now!?" Mian screamed. y/n looked over shoulder to yell for them to retreat. She didn't have time for the words to form as she was kicked in the side by Conrad. She hadn't latched on to anything at that moment, and her body was flung through a window. She groaned in pain before opening her eyes to see Conrad's lower half sticking out of a titan's mouth.

He kicked her out of the way.

There wasn't anything she could do to save him. There was no screaming or sound coming from him. His blood slowly seeped from the titan's lips. The titan slightly crouched down to peer into the window. Its eyes looked so disgustingly human. y/n tried to move her body back away from the window with her hand. She tried to ignore the pain as her pieces of glass priced her palms.

Then the recognizable sound of flesh being ripped apart echoed out, and the titan fell to the side. The person who jumped through the broken window would have brought a smile to y/n's face, but her mouth was left open for a moment. She was almost afraid to reach out to them to confirm if they were real and not just some hallucination.

They walked right up to her and crouched down to her level. "What the hell were you thinking? You almost die. Wipe that damn smile off your face! You almost fucking died, don't you understand!?"

"Jean." She breathed out. Her eyes were as wide as saucers. People started crashing through the windows. With that, Jean drew his attention to some of the garrison members that were cowering in the corner. He began braiding them, or maybe he wasn't. y/n couldn't tell because her mind went blank.

"Have you broken your leg?" She turned her eyes to the side to see Reiner beside her. Her eyes were still wide. She wasn't responding right away, so he asked. "Do you need me to carry you?" He seemed to be growing more anxious with each second she didn't respond.

Her mouth slightly moved. "Marco." Was all she got out. She was afraid to ask if he was alive, but she wanted to know so badly. Yet it was like her body didn't want to know. Making her struggle to say anything but his name. It was trying to protect her from the inevitable pain.

"Are you okay?"

Seeing Marco alright with not a single scratch on him almost made her cry on the spot. Both of her anchors were fine. Her eyes and stressed smile relaxed as she let herself lay down. "Hey! Don't pass out on us now!" Reiner said as he pulled her up by the shoulders and off the floor that was riddled with broken glass.

"You can lay down, but not here! You're going to get glass in your hair and cut your head!" Marco worried out loud. Then he took notice of her bleeding hands. "Ah! Your hands! We have to get that bandaged up! Reiner, please carry y/n down stairs. I'll try to find a first aid kit." Reiner nodded his head and scooped y/n into his arms.

Her mind and body were exhausted. Though she wasn't the only one who was. Still selfishly, she let herself be carried down the set of stairs and leaned her head against Reiner's chest.

'They're okay. They're going to make it through this alive.' As she rested against Reiner, she took note of the heat emanating from him. 'You feel like a fireplace. You probably give the best cuddles during winter.'

Reiner set y/n down on a crate. She leaned her back against the wall and closed her eyes. "Thank you, but I could have walked on my own." He smiled at her words. "Why didn't you say that when I was carrying you?" She shrugged her shoulders, eyes still shut. "Can't a girl feel like a pretty princess being carried away from the danger?"

"I'll carry you away from any danger." She cracked a smile and opened her eyes. He wore a surprisingly gentle smile. His hazel eyes held a familiar warmth in them. She couldn't put a finger on why this felt like a long-lost memory.

All of a sudden that warmth disappeared when something caught the corner of his eye. "I've got to check on Bertholdt. Will you be alright?" She gave him a nod before he walked off. She closed her eyes and waited for Marco to come back with that first aid kit. It didn't take her long to drift off, even with all the nose around her.

Her eyes snapped open when she felt something get pulled from her hand. Her whole body bolted up. "I'm sorry! You looked so peaceful sleeping that I didn't want to wake you up." Marco apologized. Jean snickered, "I'm surprised that she woke up now." She looked down at her hands to see one was already banged. Marco had pulled out most of the glass with tweezers on her other hand.

She looked over at Jean, who was tinkering with some OFM gear. She glanced around the room to see mostly everyone cleaning out guns. "What's going on?" Marco was going to respond, but Jean beat him to it. "Don't worry about it; just go back to sleep, you freak." Everyone was looking more anxious than she'd expected. "No, there's clearly something going on."

"There's seven titans down in storage." Jean hissed at Marco; it shut up, but he ignored his friend. Focusing on taking out glass from y/n's hand. "We have a plan to get rid of them, so don't worry." He gave her a small smile.

"What's the plan?"

"The plan is for you to stay right here." She made a confused face at Jean's words. She looked at Marco to explain, but he didn't seem interested in doing so. He pretended to be occupied with bandaging her other hand. "Why won't you tell me? How bad is the plan?"

As y/n started getting worked up, Marco purposefully tightened her bandages a little too much. She let out a small yelp. Marco would innocently ask. "Sorry! Is that too tight?" She was easily fooled by his brown eyes and saw it as an accident. "But seriously. How are we getting rid of the titans?"

Jean groaned at her persistence. "If you don't stop asking, I'm going to strangle you until you pass out."

"There's no need to get kinky; I'd just like to know how I can help."

"You must be doing better if you're joking now." Jean rolled his eyes.

"It wasn't even a funny joke." Marco mumbled to himself. y/n huffed a laugh. ' You still can't handle slightly suggestive jokes after all of this. You must have been a nun in your past life. I swear.'

After some poking and prodding. Marco would explain the plan Armin came up with. The moment she heard the plan, she wanted to participate in it. The two rejected the idea immediately. "Your hands are cut up. You can't even do anything with them." y/n would claim that the cuts weren't too deep and that it doesn't hurt to put pressure on them.

Marco would come up with a horrible lie. "We don't have enough guns. So you'll have to sit this out." y/n blinked at him slowly. Jean gave him a deadpan look. 'You couldn't lie, even if your life depends on it.' The two thought to themselves in unison.

y/n realized that she wasn't going to get either of them to budge on their stance on keeping her out of this. Then she'd go talk to Armin himself to see if there was anything she could do. So she relaxed her body and acted as though she wasn't bothered. "Have you seen Mian or Floch? They were with me when I tried to break in here."

"I've seen Mian. She's fine. I don't know who Floch is." Jean said his tone was curt. Marco thought for a moment before realizing who y/n was talking about. "Floch Forster, right? He's the guy with the uh…interesting hair."

y/n smiled at Marco's attempt to not sound mean. "You can just say he has a bad haircut. No one's going to disagree with you on that." Marco tried to defend himself, but she didn't bother listening. She knew he'd never be rude to anyone on purpose. At times she wondered if there was a single bad bone in his body.

Seeing that neither of them had seen Floch, y/n got up. Making the excuse to look for her missing squadmate in the crowd. Then she started looking for Armin. It was actually a lot harder to find him than she realized. She figured she had to follow the sound of Eren screeches since Armin wasn't too far away from Eren and Mikasa. Though it seemed like Eren wasn't here.

She wandered around like a lost puppy until she finally saw Armin. He was cleaning up a gun just like everyone else. Though he seemed to be struggling. He looked like he knew what he was doing, but his hands wouldn't stop shaking. "Have you heard of square breathing?" The boy nearly jumped out of his skin hearing y/n's voice.

"What?" He was too lost in his thoughts to hear what she had said. "Square breathing? Ever heard of it?" He stared at her. She could have almost swam in those deep blue eyes if fear was visible a mile away. She slightly smiled to lighten the mood. "I'd ask if you were good, but that'd be a dumb question."

He turned her hand back to the gun. Fiddling with the thing. "Do you need something?" y/n didn't respond right away. She just watched him handle the weapon. She wasn't sure what it was, but the titans and all these must have caught up to him. Now he was struggling to handle the stress of it all.

She gently pulled the gun for his hand. He tried to take it back from her banged hands, but she held it up to keep it out of his reach. "You aren't going to get much done with those shaking hands so much." He looked at her with pleading eyes. "But…"

'Don't look at me like I kicked a puppy. I'll give it back to you; don't worry. Eren and Mikasa would give me hell if I even thought about picking on you.'

"I want you to breathe with me." He tried to protest, but she dangled the gun above his head. "You'll get this back; just follow my finger." Seeing him nod his head made her smile brightly. "Good! I'm going to draw a square. With each side I draw, you'll either inhale or exhale. When I get to a corner, you'll switch, okay?"

He did as she said. Expelling all the air from his chest until she came to a corner and started inhaling. She made him do the breathing exercise a few times before handing the gun back to him. "Is there enough room for me to get on the elevator and help distract the titans?" The moment she asked, he looked at her hands. "They're fine. I don't feel a thing." His eyes widened with worry. "You can't feel your hands?"

"No! That's not what I mean. I can still feel it. It's just not that bad. Alright? I'll do anything to help." He visibly relaxed. "We have enough people to distract them." She could feel what he was about to say next. "I think it's best if you just rest."

'Ugh, useless. All I'm allowed to do is sit on the sidelines while those two risk their necks. Lady Luck, why can't you be on my side once in a while?'

She kept up her smile. "Alright then. Good luck." Then she slipped away. She leaned against the brick wall and slid down to the floor. Closing her eyes as she listened to everyone's shoes slapping against the floor. Words muffled and jumbled together. All she could do now was wait and pray that things don't go wrong.

"What are you doing?"

Opening her eyes, she was mildly surprised to see Mikasa. There was no sight of Eren. Looking at Mikasa, there was a new level of coldness to her. She always came off as blunt, but there was a semblance of liveliness in her. Now it seems to be washed out. Her dull gray eyes somehow become even more lifeless.

That's when y/n realized. 'Eren, he's dead, isn't he?'

y/n shrugged and shifted her eyes to the side. "Just waiting, I suppose." She doubted Mikasa would want to see her pity. "Can you still use your hands?" Mikasa held out the rifle to y/n.

Mikasa watched y/n turn her head and look up at her. y/n's [eye color] eyes looked up at her like she had given her one of the most valuable things known to man. Grabbing the gun, y/n gave her a big smile. "My hands are as good as ever. Thanks."

Then y/n's smile faltered when she took notice of the bandage around Mikasa's wrist. She wouldn't have even noticed it if Mikasa's sleeve didn't travel up when handing out the weapon. "Are you okay?" Seeing that y/n is looking at her wrist, she pulled down her sleeve. "It's just a scratch."

"Did you put any cream on it? I can get you some." Mikasa discarded all of y/n's words. "I'm fine. Be ready in five minutes." y/n watched the dark-haired girl walk away. She kept her head held high. If Eren really was dead, y/n couldn't help but admire her strength to keep moving.

'Your wrist… Did you try to...' y/n shook her head and checked her gun. 'No. She didn't. She always had a bandage on her wrist. Just because Eren might be dead doesn't mean she'd follow him to the afterlife. She'd do anything for him and Armin. Just because one is dead doesn't mean all is lost.'

y/n stole a glance at Mikasa, who was talking to Armin. 'Maybe we're a little more similar than I realized. But I guess the main difference is that you're strong enough to keep fighting.'

She smiled to herself and huffed out a laugh. 'Okay, Jean. I think I understand your crush on that cold-hearted girl now.'

Sound Mind & Heart Masterlist

I've mainly been posting on Quotev, but finally got around to posting it here. Also made a drawing about the end of this chapter. [Link to doodle]

[meownotgood]

i need someone to give us a long winded himeno analysis and i volunteer you to be tribute! i find her to be a tragic character and i believe fandom really does look at her at such surface level

I can certainly do that anon 💪 I actually already wrote a bit of an analysis for her for another anon who asked me about aki / himeno, you can find that here, but I'll for sure elaborate a little more on it

first of all, I don't blame people for not liking her, if you dislike her or hate her that's fine. honestly, even I don't really like her that much, but I appreciate the way that she's written and her impact on the story as a whole. I think she's written very well, and she's a very tragic and often misunderstood character.

and I don't blame people for only seeing her at surface level, either — I feel like a lot of chainsaw man fans speed read the manga or just didn't analyze much of what they were reading, so they formed their opinions quickly or based them on what they've seen other people say. which there's no problem with that, mind you, I just feel like a lot of aspects of himeno's character (other characters fall victim to this too, like denji and makima) often get overlooked by readers, or get dumbed down to an insane degree.

in my opinion, himeno is one of the most realistic characters in chainsaw man. she embodies everything that I imagine for a real person to do when faced with the horrible world chainsaw man takes place in, as well as the grim reality of devil hunting. she distracts herself with cigarettes, drinking, and sex, she sports a bubbly and flirty personality to hide her true personality and her sorrows.

after losing countless of her buddies, taking beatings and ridicule from the families of those buddies, and bearing witness to so much grief and death in her life, she's become numb — this is why she chooses to use vices to "take the edge off". she ends up not caring much for her life or her well-being, but this changes when she ends up meeting aki.

when we see himeno's first interaction with aki, she's a very different person. she's cold, seeming to only care about whether or not aki will prove to be useful. the fact that she cares so much for him is why she was able to keep going, but it also ended up becoming her undoing.

she spent so long throwing away her life, smoking and drinking, but after she met aki, she wanted the two of them to live a longer life. she started caring for her own well-being again, as well as his. she asks aki if he would move to the civilian sector with her, which has much less dangerous devils, and she writes in her letters to her sister about how she wants to find a way to convince aki to quit. we can even see how she cares about his well-being when she tells him not to use his sword because she knows it will cut away at his life span.

aki cared for her safety, too; he was willing to use his contract with the curse devil, sacrificing his life span and risking everything to fight katana man in order to keep her safe. and in the end, she ends up being the one to give up her life for him.

in a way, it's bittersweet, because after meeting so many devil hunters who are numb and jaded, after practically becoming that type of devil hunter herself, himeno finally found someone who wasn't like that — someone who actually cared about her life, and would cry for her if she died. I wouldn't exactly say that himeno was happy when she was dying, but I think she definitely found peace in that fact, in the thought of aki caring enough about her to cry for her.

I think himeno initially became very attached to aki because after losing so many people, she wanted more than anything to see him live. and I think that attachment to him eventually grew into romantic feelings, which aki didn't come to realize (most likely because he was under makima's influence) until well after she died. I think himeno also grew to like aki after seeing his more vulnerable side, and the way that he cries for people who have died, even rookies who he barely even knew. I think in another reality, they could have been more than just partners, but as it stands, I feel as if they had more of a mentor and student type of relationship.

fujimoto said that himeno and aki were originally intended to be siblings, and I think remnants of that can be found in their relationship and interactions — himeno was certainly in love with aki at one point, but aki saw her more like his superior. as someone he definitely cares deeply for and respects, but sees as more of a colleague than a romantic interest.

also, I want to mention how some of my favorite lines in chainsaw man come from himeno: "how can I get aki to quit?" is such a good line. himeno was the only person left that was keeping aki grounded, and keeping him from throwing his life away in pursuit of his goal, so when she died, there was no-one to hold him back from making contracts with devils or from putting his full focus on collecting pieces of the gun devil. aki mentions how he's stopped looking at himself objectively, because if he did, he'd be unable to continue. himeno was there to give him a sense of reason, so without her, he fully succumbs to the path he's chosen to walk down.

I also appreciate the whole concept with "easy revenge", and what aki giving into it means for his character development as a whole

also "aki can cry" and "don't die aki, cause when I die, I want you to cry" are such good lines, I don't know what else to say about them besides they give me chills every time

[crane--here]

What are your thoughts on the ending of dying light the following? Which one do you think is canon? And do you believe in the night hunter is kyle crane theory?

OHOHOHO :3

putting under read more for obvious spoilers and my LONG response

i have mixed feelings on the nature of the endings. one completely contradicts crane's morals and personality, as well as destroys his entire character arc up to the ending point - while the other nicely ties said arc to a bittersweet, but satisfying end, narratively wise. so the choice to pick my favorite isn't hard here

i hate hate HATE the nuke ending. it just feels so... wrong when it comes to kyle's character and essentially makes him out to be the biggest hypocrite of all! do you seriously believe that kyle "i hauled my ass around preventing the bombing of harran" crane would willingly NUKE THE CITY after going through so much?? when you take into account his stubbornness and his sacrificial nature, of someone who does everything to keep his friends and found family safe, to throw it all away just from the words of a freak he just met? it's too abrupt. too out of character to end things this way. as "noble" as the option is, it's just NOT what lies within crane's morals. the mother could sacrifice thousands for the sake of billions - the same could never be said for crane

now, the vial ending? GOOD LORD IT MAKES ME GO CRAZYYYY IN A GOOD WAY. the last ditch effort to fight for the "cure".... kyle's delusional belief that it can all be salvaged.... fuck!! the emotions this ending gives! it shows the crane we know and love! a stubborn bastard who's ready to sacrifice himself just for his friends - even when the future is looking grim. because crane is hopeful, always was. he'd hold onto the last strings of hope until the very end because he just doesn't give up. and that hope was his DOWNFALL. the road to hell is paved with good intentions - it's no different here

kyle is shown to be willing to do things he genuinely believes are for the better - and time and time again to be proved wrong. most side quests underline that! but did that ever stop him from extending his trust to others and risking it all? no it did not! he still was willing to go to extreme lengths for the sake of helping people, too quickly in fact, too driven by his emotions to think of the long-term consequences. and i think this post describes it all better than i ever would

dying light is a very bleak and grim story, and like liquidator said: "But sometimes, even the greatest heroes stumble... and don't get up again". as hurtful as the vial ending was to the fanbase, it was the right "end" for crane

it's very clear that the vial ending is the canon one. i think it's kind of funny, for the longest time the community was led to believe that both endings were supposedly canon to "give the player the opportunity to make their own choices", as per official tweets and other sources

but that was INSTANTLY shut down with techland ama video where the devs confirm there IS a canonical ending to dl1 and that by playing dl2 we'll get to find the answer we're looking for. and that we did!

from the very first memento we can find, we learn that even 5 years after the initial outbreak harran STILL had survivors within the walls who were denied aid. this very fact instantly throws the nuke ending out of the window - there is no way for anyone to survive a nuclear bomb. if the initial explosion wouldn't kill them, the fallout would. it still leaves the fate of the tower and crane after turning uncertain, we can only speculate where they ended up in the next years

and moving onto kyle.... hate to say it but i am a "crane is the night hunter truther" <3. i simply think it's more fitting and with the evidence present i think it's the more plausible option

believe it or not there's no concrete evidence that the serum HAS to turn anyone into a sentient volatile, and only a volatile. especially if you know HOW the harran virus works on any host. the reason why jasmine is a volatile of all strains is that prior to turning she was bitten by a regular biter. the vial was administered in its simplest form. who's to say someone like crane, who's been dealing with his infection for months and who faced all the infected strains before, wouldn't turn into a fucked up hybrid of all? i think this reddit comment sums up my thoughts perfectly:

"the subtitles say volatile scream" - dude. i can ASSURE you that techland is the least reliable when it comes to english transcripts specifically 😭 and i say this as a polish person. besides this argument falls apart when the transcripts change between languages as well (to my knowledge the german script says "night hunter schrei" lmao)

"the night hunter isn't canon" - ... yeah, about that

night hunters ARE canon to the dl universe. that is to say - the btz gamemode is most likely not. and it's important to remember the distinction between the two things

oh and also,

... yeah i think the night hunter photos on the crane memorial are the biggest hint so far. either that or techland is fucking with us even more lmao

i actually have a lot to say about the "night hunter crane" theory, and much more evidence and speculation around it. like i do believe night hunters are a special strain of volatiles specifically. i can go into more detail in a separate post if anyone wants to hear it lol

[ichigo-daifuku]

See No Evil, Hear No Evil, Speak No Evil [3]

Fandom: Shall We Date?: Obey Me! Pairing: Diavolo/F!Reader Genre: Soulmate AU, Fake Relationship (?), Misunderstandings, Fluff, Angst, Smut

Synopsis: During a confrontation between Diavolo and a certain witch who harbors unrequited feelings for him, he declares his intention to ask you to stand beside him in reigning over the Devildom someday. You conclude only one logical explanation for the insanity he uttered: this is his way of discouraging the witch from being so persistent. Although clueless, you play along and become ‘lovers’ with him.

Inevitably, your existing attraction for Diavolo grows, but the distinction between truth and lies, the crisscrossed lines of the right and the wrong, and the question of what’s real and what isn’t, begin to plague your mind and stir up trouble for your relationship with him with each passing day.

Entangled within the woven threads of soulmates and a royal prophecy, this is the story of the Demon Prince and his future Queen: you.

1 | 2 | 3 Chapter 3: Speak No Evil Word Count: 5.6k

“Welcome, my lady.”

The staff at the Demon Lord’s Castle greeted you with dutiful bows. If they were surprised at the punctuality of your arrival, they showed no signs of it and ushered you inside. As per your previous visits, they were all cordial. Most of them even looked excited, and you felt a pang of guilt for deceiving them all this time.

Originally, the demon brothers had planned for your grand arrival with all seven of them escorting you to the ballroom. Due to your change of plans, however, you made excuses and admitted you had matters to discuss with Diavolo before the celebratory ball, intentionally leaving out any specifics. You persuaded them by divulging your plan of handing Diavolo the baked goods you prepared as a gift. In the end, the demon brothers reluctantly relented. You patted yourself on the back for remaining firm despite your gratitude for the Seven Rulers of Hell. It was a difficult feat to accomplish.

The day after your conversation with Solomon, you headed to town and purchased an outfit for the celebratory ball on your own rather than using those hanging on the racks of the prophesied Queen’s closet at the Demon Lord’s Castle. It was the first step in your departure from your role as the faux Queen. While browsing at one of your favorite boutiques, you found a red embroidered evening gown that completely covered your back and was zipped from the side. It was simpler than any of the formalwear in the Queen’s closet, but it wasn’t as if you would be at the party to impress anyone nor enjoy yourself.

It would be the last time you would pretend to be Diavolo’s other half. After this event, everything would be over.

A bittersweet feeling flooded your chest, but when you looked back at the moments you shared with Diavolo, you were unable to deny the truth to yourself: you’d do it all again if you could.

Your high heels click-clacked on the polished floor as you approached Diavolo’s study. Before anything else, you peeked inside and only entered the room once you found it empty. You shut the door and went over to his desk. The kisses you shared with him the other day were still fresh in your mind. In a span of a few days, your circumstances with him had completely changed. It was strange to stand in the same place with that realization gnawing at your gut.

Gingerly, you set the pastry box on Diavolo’s table, pulled a sticky note from his tall stack, and wrote a short thank you note for him. A small sense of finality washed over you as you signed your name and placed it on the box. It was cowardly of you to give him your gift like this, but once you’d told him you’d end this charade with him, he might decline it. You were already hurting, and as much as possible, you wanted to lessen the impact of his rejection.

After leaving his study and roaming around the castle, Diavolo remained nowhere in sight. You took a wild guess and went to the gazebo, a tinge of dread in your steps when you found out you were right. As tall and regal as he was during the first time you saw him, he stood and gazed at the lake, its tranquility one with its beholder.

“Diavolo,” you called.

“Hello there.” He turned his head to look at you, his lips breaking into a smile. “You’re beautiful.”

“Thank you,” you replied and moved forward, taking in the sight of him in formalwear. “You look great, as always.”

“You flatter me.”

“It’s the truth.” Once you reached the gazebo, you stayed at the threshold, ready to leave once you had said what you needed to tell him. “By the way, I left something for you in your study.”

“A gift?”

“That’s right. Some pastries. I baked them myself.”

“Let’s eat them together later. We can have our own after-party.”

“No, I made them for you. And we’ll get full at the banquet, won’t we?”

“There’s always room for dessert.” He laughed at his own quip and gestured over the lake. “Why don’t you stand beside me? The view is quite splendid.”

“It’s fine. I can admire it from afar.” Unwavering, you remained rooted at your spot. The lake was majestic, but it wasn’t what you were here for tonight. You hid your shaky hands behind your back and fiddled with your fingers, taking a deep breath as you returned your complete attention to Diavolo. “I have something to tell you. It’s important.”

“You can tell me anything, my princess.”

“I’m sorry, Diavolo,” you said, “but let’s end this.”

A long pause passed before he clarified with uncertainty, “The party?”

“Not that. I meant this—whatever’s between us—let’s end it.”

“What? Why? Have I done something to displease you?” Diavolo interrogated, his entire demeanor shifting into a panicked one. He stepped closer to you, but you retreated and exited the gazebo entirely. It dawned on him: his pursuit would cause you to fall further back. A grim expression on his face, he came to a halt and demanded, “Tell me.”

“No, Diavolo. Far from it,” you confessed with a sad smile. “You’re the Prince of the Devildom, and you’re the most wonderful man I’ve ever met.”

“If so, then what’s the problem?”

“I’m in love with you.”

“And?”

And? That’s all he has to say? you thought bitterly, hurt your confession warranted such a lackluster reaction. “I can’t keep doing this when there’s someone else meant to be by your side.”

Diavolo stiffened. “Someone… else…?”

“Yes. I can’t pretend to be the Queen in the prophecy anymore. I love you. A lot. And it’s hurting me, so please, let’s end this.”

Instead of replying, Diavolo kept quiet.

Unable to take his silence any longer, you averted your gaze and proceeded to wrap up the conversation. “I’ve said what I wanted to say. I’ll attend the party. You’re free to clarify this tonight or I can pretend to be your Queen one last time, whichever works for you. But please make sure to clear up the misunderstanding in the future.”

“You’re under the impression,” he paused and let out a laugh in an icy tone you’d never heard from him before, “that we’re pretending to be together?”

Chills ran down your spine. The question he uttered made you more nervous than you ever were tonight. Diavolo’s deep voice dripped with realization, incredulity, but most of all, rage.

You were in trouble.

“You’re right. There’s been a misunderstanding.” He let out a menacing laugh and strode in your direction. Instinctively, you attempted to put space between the two of you, but he grabbed your wrist and pulled you close to him, wrapping both of his arms around your waist so quickly you didn’t have the chance to step away and flee. “All the times you said you were happy, whenever you told me you were looking forward to seeing me, when you agreed we looked like a great couple, you weren’t lying.”

“I wasn’t,” you acknowledged, your tense body gradually going lax at his touch. The familiar scent of his cologne made your mind hazy as you breathed in. “I’ve been in love with you for a while now. I might have pretended to be your lover, but I’ve been true to you. That’s why we have to end this.”

“No.”

“No?”

“No.” Diavolo bent his head and whispered in your ear, “I never lie, did you know?”

You didn’t.

His words prompted your head to swirl with scenes of your interactions, one of them standing out among the rest.

“So, that day… when Maddi confronted us about the prophecy,” you paused, your eyes wide as you tilted your head to meet his gaze, “y-you meant every word you said?”

“Yes, you’re the one for me. The only one,” he declared, embracing you tighter. “Shall I prove it to you?”

Once the question left his lips, Diavolo’s eyes glowed, and the next thing you knew, the sights around you shifted from the gazebo to the Queen’s closet. He refused to let you go, and you were faintly aware you were in the corner of the room as your hips nudged the wooden edge of the grand vanity table. Fortunately, the surface was vacant since all the cosmetics remained in the drawers, or else they would have already toppled on the floor.

Diavolo asked, “Do you know what’s on your back?”

“How did you—”

“I saw. When we had breakfast together, during that day when you agreed to pretendto be my lover.” His fingers brushed the nape of your neck and slid down to your spine, his large palm resting over your back. “Do you know what’s written here?”

“My soulmark.”

“It’s more special than that.”

“How come?”

“Have you seen it?”

You shook your head. “I’ve never dared to. I don’t like it... and I’m… scared of it.”

“Do you like me?”

“I love you.”

“Are you scared of me?”

“No.”

“If that’s the case, there’s no need for you to dislike or be scared of your mark.”

As he had revealed to you moments ago, Diavolo never lied. You trusted him. If he was certain he was your soulmate, you had nothing to fear. “Okay, but I have to remove my dress, so if you will, the door is that way.”

Diavolo released you with a quiet laugh. A familiar mischievous smile played on his lips, he shook his head. Determinedly, he reasoned, “I can’t afford any more misunderstandings with you.”

Instead of leaving, he moved and settled down a few steps within your reach. He gave you free rein over the space in front of the mirror and crossed his arms, waiting.

Conceding, you sighed and shook your head in exasperation. There was no way you could convince him to leave. You raised your fingers to pull the zipper from your side, but the eyes trained on you were too intense, you almost turned—if not for the fact you’d still see him admiring your actions from the mirror which, strangely, felt more intimate. Averting your gaze, you stripped out of your evening gown. You thought of making your way to the chaise and laying down your outfit on it, but your hands felt too shaky, and your feet felt too cold. The crimson cloth slipped away from your fingers and pooled on the floor.

Donned only in your lingerie, you were exposed, and your back was ready for your revelation. Fear threatened you to put an end to this mess through flight, but your trust and affection for the man standing in front of you led you to fight this fear and face it head-on.

And then, on your own volition, you finally looked at what was imprinted on your back: the soulmark you once resented but now gave you hope and promise.

Once you saw it, you felt grateful for your unknowingly wise decision of hiding it from everyone who asked about it in the human world.

“No way…” you murmured, unable to tear your gaze from your back’s reflection.

Three numbers were written vertically over your spine:

6 6 6

Diavolo approached you, his arm moving past your waist and resting on the table. He tilted his head to the side, and like you, openly gazed at your soulmark’s reflection in the mirror. His fingertip traced over the numbers, one after another, earning a soft gasp from you. “You know what this means, yes?”

You did.

The Devil’s Number.

Devil.

Diavolo.

Speechless, you turned your face and stared at him, tears threatening to fall from your eyes.

“Do you honestly believe I could be this good at pretending to be in love with you?” Diavolo questioned and gave you a kiss on your forehead. “You think too highly of me.”

“Do you really… love me?” you whispered.

“Listen well, my princess,” Diavolo embraced you and stroked your hair. “I love you.”

Tears streamed down your cheeks, dampening his suit, but neither of you cared. “The prophecy…”

“It’s about you.”

“So, all this time…”

He sighed and grimaced. “Yes.”

“Are you still mad at me?”

“I am,” he said, releasing you to wipe your tears with his thumbs. “Don’t think I’m letting you get away with it.”

Diavolo cradled your cheeks and bent his head to kiss you. After you decided to break things off with him, you had accepted you’d never be as close to him as you were before, but here you were. Eyes closed, you basked in his affection, which you now know was true and meant only for you. Despite the anger he admitted to, the sensation of his lips on yours was warm and forgiving. When you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulled him closer, and deepened your kisses, the soft sigh that escaped his lips was all you needed to know he was relieved. It put him at ease that you loved him and weren’t going to leave him. It was a sentiment that mirrored yours.

Breathless, he leaned back and met your heated gaze. The crackling tension between the two of you grew from powerful to electrifying, a telltale sign of a singular ending to this encounter. It was a resolution you never dared to consider when you entered this castle tonight, but it was one you had no complaints about. He needed this—needed you—and you’d be damned if you were going to let this end like it did last time.

“Will you indulge me?” His fingers grazed your mark once more as he took the clasp of your bra between them and unhooked it in one go. “Rather, would you indulge in me, my princess?”

“Here? Now? The celebratory ball is going to start soon,” you teased, tugging his bow tie with your index finger and unfastening it.

“Our unfinished business is more important,” Diavolo reminded you, his suit jacket falling on top of your dress. You unbuttoned his shirt and brushed your lips on his collarbone, the tip of your tongue teasing his exposed skin. He sighed and continued, “You have no idea what you do to me. I’ve wanted you for so long, but it seems my feelings didn’t come across properly. I’ll make it so you’ll never have any doubts about us ever again.”

Diavolo guided you to sit on the dresser and began kissing your neck, freshening the faded lovebites he had made and adding more as he caressed your breasts with his palms and dragged his thumbs over your hardening buds. His ministrations were languid and tender, but every contact with his mouth and fingers left you squirming, eager for him to quicken his pace and pay attention to where you needed him the most.

“When you first arrived here, I just knew… I have to have you all to myself,” he confessed.

As his lips reached your abdomen, Diavolo went down on one knee. To you, he looked like a knight receiving an accolade from his monarch; as if the vanity table was your throne, and he was promising himself to you. Perhaps, it would be more appropriate to liken him to the prince who had finally found his elusive Cinderella. But perhaps not—as unlike that prince, he was removing your high heels and setting them aside. Desire and reverence filled his eyes as he tilted his head and stared at your bare form, your chest rising and falling in anticipation. 

“Now, everyone’s going to know you're mine,” he vowed, hooking your panties at the side and sliding them down your legs, “including you.”

Your mouth parted in a soundless groan as Diavolo kissed the inside of your knees.

“What do you say, my princess?”

Anticipation pooled at the pit of your stomach. A slow, coquettish smile made its way on your lips. Above all else, you wanted him to know you were eager for this as much as he was—that you desired him as much as he desired you. You raised your legs and beckoned him closer by spreading them and letting your calves and feet rest over his wide shoulders. “Show me.”

He smirked, pleased with your answer. Wordlessly, he kissed and nipped at the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs. Tilting his head lower, his warm breath ghosted over the apex of your legs, his lips hovering over your sex. The first swipe of his tongue was gentle. He let you familiarize yourself with the sensation before he licked you where it was the most pleasurable. When he did, the sharp inhale you took didn’t escape his notice. He knew what he was doing, flicking his tongue and sucking at that little bundle of nerves with the right amount of pressure, in the way you never knew you wanted it. His index and middle finger over the sides of your entrance, his tongue plunged inside you. It triggered a sudden movement of your hips, but he held you in place and steadied you with his other hand, his ministrations never faltering, coaxing a diminutive moan out of your lips.

“You hear that?” he murmured, pertaining to the sound the shallow thrust of his middle finger made. Those three words sent a pleasurable wave from his lips to your groin, making you curl your toes and your back arch against the mirror. “We’ve only just begun, and you’re already so wet for me.”

“Stop teasing me so much,” you whined. You reached out to brush his hair and thread your fingers between its strands, but at the quickening pace of his hand, you ended up tugging at his locks instead.

“It’s because you’re holding back,” Diavolo pointed out with a soft chuckle. He peered at your face and waited for your reaction as he added a second—and soon, a third—finger into the mix. “Let me hear you. I know you can be louder than that.”

Even if you wanted to subdue the gratified noises threatening to fill the room, you were helpless against his earnest pursuit of your peak. He pumped his fingers in and out of you over and over, making you cry out as you reveled in the sensation of your release. At a rhythmless pace, your hips shifted against his face once more, only this time he let you ride out and enjoy the most out of your climax.

Diavolo might be all refined, dignified, and gentlemanly, but now that you had brought out the lascivious side of him—the raw and sinful part of him he kept in the dark to many—he was relentless. He straightened his body and licked his damp lips, savoring your taste. It was a look that told you that there was more to come—that he had more to give.

Eyes bleary, you were faintly aware of it as Diavolo stood. You did likewise, albeit unsteadily, and allowed him to turn your body around. With a light press of his palm over your back, he inclined you downward. Your fingers grasped the edge of the table, and the vision of your flushed state connected with your eyes in the glass. Above your likeness, Diavolo’s reflection smirked at you. Then and there, your earlier thoughts about him admiring you from the mirror were proven correct: everything about this was intimate, enthralling, and insanely sensual.

Diavolo pressed his lips on the numbers on your spine, and your legs wobbled as you shivered. He held you by the waist, his torso perfectly fitting over your back as his other hand worked on his trousers and guided himself near your fluttering entrance, the tip touching you but not entering. His lips tickled your ear, and he dragged them across the lobe and tugged at it. With a soft but demanding voice, he urged you, “Say it.”

Still in a daze from your climax but covetous of another, you were ready to do whatever he wanted you to do. “Say what?”

“Say you’re mine.” He nudged his length between your sensitive folds. He felt so good, and you knew he was going to feel even better once he was inside you.

“I’m yours,” you vowed, shifting your lower half to sheathe him. “I’m yours—only yours! Now, please Diavolo!”

He was delivering what he had promised earlier, showing you how you were his. At the same time, you wanted him to show you he was yours, too. Yearning to be connected to him in some way, you turned your head to meet his lips with your own. Instead of replying with words, he slipped his tongue past your mouth and kissed you deeper. He gripped your hips and eased himself inside your core.

Startled, you pulled your lips away and faced forward with a soft gasp. Although you had an idea of his size and girth from your foreplay, he still felt more than you expected. He was only halfway in, and yet, you were already biting your lower lip to suppress a pleasured scream from coming out of you.

His pace was tantalizingly unhurried. Again and again, he drew back and thrust inside you—only to stop midway. 

It was frustrating. You were capable of taking all of him, and you knew it.

“Harder,” you pleaded, “Do it harder… Please!”

With a kiss on your shoulder, he chuckled and replied, “As you wish, my princess.”

He gave you what you asked for and eased himself fully inside you. Once you accommodated his length, your eyes fluttered closed reflexively. Yes, this was it. This was exactly what you needed. Your breath hitched as he slowly drew back until his tip remained in your entrance, and in a second, he plunged inside you again. “Y-Yes, just like… like that.”

Diavolo groaned, increasing his pace. His fingers dug at your hips, and the erotic sound of skin slapping filled your ears. He leaned back and let out a low hum of appreciation as you took every inch of him perfectly. His voice strained and lacking its usual composure, he remarked, “Feels even better than I imagined.”

Well, damn.

The image of him touching himself to the thought of you was enough to make you shudder with arousal, but the pleasure of having him, in reality, was beyond any vision your mind could conjure up. You clenched around him, coaxing a grunt and a loud moan from his parted lips. He gritted his teeth and tightly shut his eyes, the rhythm he had set gradually turning rougher.

“Fuck!” you moaned, “Diavolo, I… I-I’m gonna—”

He sensed it. His pace refused to falter, and you reached your climax within seconds. You witnessed how much of a mess you turned to in the mirror, but you couldn’t care less. It was Diavolo who made you this way, after all. Your arms and legs gave out as you shuddered, but he readily caught you before you could fall to the ground. 

Diavolo unsheathed himself from you and returned you to your seated position. He kissed your hair and shifted his lips near your ear. “More?”

“Y-Yes.”

Gently, he held one of your legs up and propped your ankle on his shoulder. His other hand clamped over your bent knee. He entered your slick heat, and this time, you were able to accommodate him at once.

“You’re taking me so well,” he praised, his golden eyes following the movement as he thrust in and out of you. “Good girl.”

For the third time tonight, he drove you over the edge, but your earlier climax caused your current race to the peak to be agonizing. You feel it dangling over you, but at the same time, it was out of your reach. Distressed, you exclaimed, “I can’t!”

“You can,” he countered, giving it to you harder, “and you will.”

The fervor in his promise remained inexorable, and the tremor in his voice hinted at his impending climax.

You grabbed his wrist and shifted your leg downward, determined. He realized what you were trying to do as you held your arms up and wrapped your legs around his hips. Chuckling, he lifted you up with ease and held you in his arms firmly. You threaded your fingers through his hair and kissed him. He gripped your thighs and slid you up and down his length, returning to the rough momentum you had moments ago in sought of the heat the both of you had built up.

Little by little, his pace turned uneven. His breathing was labored and warm against your skin. 

“I want to see you come,” you told him. The familiar coil in your abdomen unfurling, your voice grew louder as you cried out, “Fill me up, Diavolo. You’re mine.”

As soon as you said those words, euphoria washed over every fiber of your being. This was the highest you’d ever felt, and you were certain no feeling could compare to this. No other being could compare to him. Diavolo was the only one for you.

In a split second, his jaw slackened and his eyes closed, groaning unabashedly and calling out your name. He continued thrusting inside you, never sliding out he chased his own peak. Trembling, he throbbed and filled you up as you asked, the warm and wet liquid dribbling down the inside of your thighs with his final thrust.

Panting, the two of you remained still as you came down from your respective highs.

It was you who broke the silence a few moments later. “I love you.”

He smiled and stroked your hair. “I love you too, my princess.”

The tender moment was shattered by the sudden increase of temperature on your back. Pain derived from your soulmark and spread over to your shoulders and hips. It rapidly grew hotter until it was sweltering. Your whole body felt as if it was on fire. You couldn’t take it any longer.

“Diavolo!” you cried, “My back—it’s burning!”

The touch of his bare skin was comforting, and somehow, his presence alleviated the agony. However, the invisible fire grew more intense. You could do nothing but let out a scream on his shoulder and cling to him.

Diavolo hooked one of his arms under your knees and carried you to the connecting bathroom. He placed you in the bathtub and made sure your head rested on the area gently. As the cold water rose and filled the tub, he caressed your forearm and held your hand reassuringly.

Your throat felt parched, you couldn’t say anything although you longed to. 

He cupped your cheek and wiped the tears you were unaware you were shedding. “Shhh… It’ll be alright. I’m here. Don’t worry about anything. I’ll stay with you and...”

Before you could hear the rest of Diavolo’s words of comfort, everything had gone black.

Vivid visions of the past filled your dreams one after another. You had long heard of people having their life flash before their eyes before they pass away. Was this it? Were you dying? You hoped not. The images blurred and turned ambiguous as the heat you felt subsided.

And then, you returned to the waking world. Alive.

The cool wind from the open terrace doors nipped at your skin. Except for your exposed back, the rest of your body was warm, enveloped by the calming embrace of the man laying underneath you.

You slowly opened your eyes and blinked.

Diavolo turned his head to look at you. “You’re awake.”

Your fingers reached the fabric of the sleeveless nightdress you were wearing. Vaguely, you recognize it as one of the items in the closet next door. It was your first time wearing it.

“I dressed you. I hope you don’t mind,” Diavolo said.

“It’s fine.” You had shared more intimate moments to be embarrassed about something like that; it almost felt trivial. “Thank you for staying and taking care of me.”

“Of course.”

“What time is it?”

“Almost midnight. How are you feeling?”

Abruptly, you sat bolt upright. “Wait, what? And the celebratory ball?”

“It’s still ongoing, but you have nothing to worry about. More importantly, does your back still hurt?”

“No,” you replied after a brief pause, surprised at your own observation. You stretched your shoulders and bent your arm to reach over the small of your back to check. “It’s as if nothing happened.”

“Something did, actually. Something very important,” Diavolo informed you, his tone full of seriousness. “Your mark changed.”

“What do you mean it changed?”

It was the first time you heard of a soulmark morphing into another shape or form. Appearances of soulmarks were rare enough. As you mulled it over, however, you were quick to overcome the disbelief. When all was said and done, you and Diavolo were far from a regular pair of lovers. 

Diavolo sat up and took your hand in his. “Come, look.”

The spark of excitement and delight in his demeanor piqued your curiosity. His eagerness, though contagious, was patient. He led you to the bathroom at the pace you were most comfortable with. Given the events that transpired earlier, the last thing he wanted was to insist you advance quicker and push yourself too hard.

A giant mirror rested over the sink. Unlike before, you had no qualms nor nervous sentiments about looking over your back. The nightdress made it easy for you to see what Diavolo was talking about.

“This is…”

“My sigil.”

You face Diavolo with a quiet smile.

“Do you still have doubts about me? About us?” he asked.

“No… I’m sorry.” You take his hand in yours once more. “For the record, I don’t think I ever will again.”

“Good to know.”

“Why didn’t you tell me right away? You said you suspected it from the first day we met. I think there’s a possibility Barbatos knew of it as well.”

“Yes, it was the first time I felt so drawn to someone, but while I had my suspicions, I was only able to confirm them during that day, at the House of Lamentation,” he revealed, squeezing your hand. “As for Barbatos, I asked him not to look into anything relating to the prophecy and you, or at least, not to inform me if he sees anything—except if you would be in danger. I wanted things between us to progress naturally. Was that overly selfish of me?”

“Not at all. I’m glad we were able to get through this together, just the two of us,” you replied, endeared by his intention of pursuing a relationship with you in the most normal and genuine way he could. “I didn’t act upon it because I never thought it would be possible, but I… felt drawn to you from the first day, too.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes,” you admitted and glanced at the door. “Is it too late for us to attend the party? I bet everyone is worried.”

“Are you feeling fine enough?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” He nodded, his expression shifting into an amused one. “I think our previous outfits are wrinkled, though.”

You laughed. “I think so, too.”

“Why don’t you choose another one from your closet? You know, I was wondering why you’re always so hesitant to accept gifts from me.”

“Sorry about that,” you replied with sincerity. “This time, I accept the offer wholeheartedly. Thank you for everything. I mean it.”

“You’re welcome, my princess.”

As a final touch, you swiped a layer of red lipstick over your lips and closed the container with a snap. You leaned back and observed your reflection in the mirror. Even though your choice of lip color was bold, you opted for light makeup and went with the natural flushing of your cheeks. You couldn’t help the blood heating up your face at the reminder of your earlier escapades with Diavolo. Undoubtedly, you would never be able to look at this vanity table in the same way ever again. 

Gold jewelry adorned your ears and wrists. The intricate lace pattern of the sleeves and neckline of the black evening gown you were wearing was exquisite to your touch. The full expanse of your back was bare, laid in the open for all to see. While you were unused to such clothing, the impending revelation of your fate for all of the three worlds to witness felt right. All in all, it was a quick ensemble you arranged, but it was elegant. You were more satisfied than you were earlier when you first dressed up for the celebratory ball—in more ways than one.

“All done?” Diavolo asked, standing up from the chaise and putting his D.D.D. inside his pocket. He was in his demon form, as everyone else would be except for your friends from Purgatory Hall, for your ceremonial dance at the end of the celebration. It would be the only event you would be able to attend at this point, but it was the most important one, marking the end of Diavolo’s search and the beginning of your new role.

“Yes.”

He stepped forward and offered you his arm. “Shall we, my princess?”

Wordlessly, you smiled and slipped your hand in his arm as affirmation. This time, you had no guilt nor doubt. Your relationship with him was as real as it could get. You were the prophesied Queen of the Devildom. Soon, he would be your King.

Diavolo was your fate and your choice. And you were his.

Bound by destiny are the Prince and the Princess.

Over her skin, his symbol shall appear and remain.

And with the whole Devildom as their witness,

King and Queen, they shall be; eternal, they will reign.

Notes: And that’s a wrap!

This fic began with the idea of a character having ‘666’ as a soulmark. It was the first time I posted a work that was still in progress, and I’m really grateful for all the kind comments and feedback I received along the way. Thank you to everyone who supported this story. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! 💖

See No Evil, Hear No Evil, Speak No Evil

Obey Me! Masterlist | Main Masterlist

[like-rain-or-confetti]

Request: Rescued (Demetri Volturi x Reader)

You let out a scream, but the collision never came. You watched in horror as Demetri Volturi of all people had a tight grip on the newborn vampire and with impossible speed, he and Felix ripped the vampire apart. 

The two Volturi guards slowly turned to you. Felix and Demetri looked at each other briefly before Demetri approached. You inhaled sharply, trembling in fear as you anticipated that you were next. He crouched down to your level.  "You're safe." 

He'd never actually spoken to you before. He'd only ever stare at you when in his presence. 

After the battle with the Newborn army, you were more than ready for bed. You had just came back into your room after brushing your teeth, taking off your hoodie before gasping in fright. 

There, sitting on the bottom of your bed, was Demetri Volturi. He was quiet at first, seemingly in thought before breaking the silence. "You feel it too." Demetri said simply. You knew almost immediately that he was talking about the pull. The longing you had to be around him. "You feel it?" You asked quietly. Demetri slowly nodded with a grim expression. "I want to understand this but I can't with everyone surrounding us." "You and the others...killed that girl." You began quietly, listening to your voice of reason. "She lived longer than she should have." Demetri answered. "Am I supposed to believe that I won't meet the same fate?" You asked. Demetri sighed. "I'm not here to the play this game with you. I'm not here as a Volturi guard and I know for a fact that you are not as loyal to the Cullen's as you'd have us believe. You and I have to be seen a certain way, play a role and this bond doesn't care for that. So I suggest we figure it out together and cast those roles aside." Demetri swallowed, his voice lowering again. "So do you want to continue roleplaying or come to bed?" You were alarmed by the question, that was exceptionally forward, especially considering the little time you had known each other. You stammered. "As in-?" "Was that not what you were about to do? Go to bed?" You exhaled. "So you're not asking to..." You trailed off. After a moment, Demetri seemed to catch on, a slight smirk growing on his face. "There will be plenty of time for that in the future, love." The smirk vanished. "I just want to be near you, try to understand this." After a moment, you agreed. 

One thing was clear, Demetri wasn't entirely good at being open with humans. Then again, you didn't imagine he had much time for humans unless flirting.  It was clear, Demetri didn't want to do that with you. He wanted to get to know you and this was the way he decided to do it. 

You moved passed him, climbing into your bed. After a moment of watching you. He followed suit. You felt the bed dip as you moved to give him room. The two of you were silent. You felt his arm graze your back and you immediately turned to face him. Like clockwork, you both moved closer to each other and you curled into him.  You expected it to feel awkward, cuddling into a stranger, a dangerous one at that. However it wasn't. In fact it felt like you had been waiting for that moment. "Did you know?" You asked quietly. "In Italy? Did you know?" "I had my suspicions." He responded quietly. "I have so many questions. I want to know more about you." You admitted. "I know." Demetri replied. "As do I. However, there will be time for that. Next time. The next time we get peace like this, I'll answer your questions." 

As time passed, you were almost inseparable. Whilst your bond only grew stronger, so did the challenges. Such as when Bella fell pregnant. Things weren't supposed to go this way. You were at a loss of what to do. You couldn't tell your father what was happening to his daughter. Reality sank in that one day you'd have to look your father in the eyes and tell him Bella had died knowing full well that she was still around. You hated the situation but it only got worse. 

Whilst that was going on, Irina discovered Renesmee and thought her to be an immortal child. She fled before anyone could explain. Seeing there was a law against immortal children, she ran to the Volturi. You hadn't breathed a word to Demetri about any of it. You never got the chance to. The silence on his end was terrifying. Weeks going by with no contact. Soon enough, you wanted to distract yourself. Usually Alice would be a great help in this but she and Jasper had gone, leaving only a note. 

As you were heading back home, your eyes connected with a familiar blonde's red ones. Demetri gestured for you to come with him before he led you through the trees. "Were you ever going to tell me? What they did?" "Demetri, it wasn't-" "Were you?"  "I-" "Were you ever going to tell me about that child!? I highly doubt you didn't know about it." Demetri pressed. "I did but she was wrong!" You blurted out. "The child isn't immortal!" Demetri immediately sighed in frustration. "Is that what they're telling you? At least it will save you- that works." "They aren't telling me anything, I've seen it!" "You don't understand how serious this is. Children can't keep secrets!" Demetri said louder. You paused, biting your lip swallowing back the lump in your throat. "What works?" You asked quietly. Demetri looked at you, void of emotion whilst your emotions began to build. You continued. "After all this time, you didn't say a word to me. I've been here terrified and you didn't send as much as a letter or a call. I was frightened I would be dead, that you would be in trouble that my sister and her family would be in trouble- this whole time!" The more you told him, the closer you got to him, fighting back tears. Demetri grasped your elbows. "I couldn't because when I was angry and when I wasn't angry, I've been talking to Aro, Caius and Marcus. To make sure that at least you'd be safe in all of this. I convinced them you couldn't have possibly have understood, have known enough to ever piece it together. The only reason it worked was because you're my mate! If you were anyone else...you wouldn't get the chance." Demetri took a breath to calm himself. "If you would have told me, this would have been much more simple." Your lip quivered. "I-I try to keep up, I do but..." You shook your head. "I don't know enough about your kind to ever understand." "I know." Demetri said quietly. "That's what's going to save you, my love. I'm sorry, I am so sorry that you're in this position but I'm going to fix it. I just need you to trust me and I need you to be honest. Never ever out yourself in this situation again." Demetri pulled you closer to him, searching your eyes. "I know I went silent for some time and I'm sorry I left you worrying but it's alright now. I'm fixing it." Demetri cracked a small lighthearted smile. "Didn't you miss me?" Your mouth twisted, his attempt at cheering you up failing. However he continued to prod. "(Y/N), didn't you miss me?" His lips brushed against your own. "Even a little?" "Of course, I missed you." You breathed. You pulled back before he could kiss you and he tilted his head in confusion. Your eyes darted at every angle ad though making sure you were alone. "Are you reluctant to kiss me because you feel it's betraying them?" Demetri asked. You looked alarmed. That's exactly how you felt. "No-I-uh..." You stuttered, mind going blank with no excuses at all. "This is interesting." Demetri hummed, looking less than pleased. "It's really plaguing your mind isn't it? You don't know what to do. Be with me and you're betraying your sister or join your sister and betray me. You have no clue what to do." Your eyes fell to the forest floor, almost ashamed you could he read so easily. "Listen, if we're fine-" "Kiss me." Demetri interrupted. Your eyes darted up to his, wide in surprise. "Kiss me." Demetri repeated, moving closer to you. "We are completely alone. No one is watching and no one can hear us. It's only you and I here.Everything that has happened, everything that will happen- forget it. Just as I said, back when we first spoke. Take away our roles and it doesn't matter to us. So even for just the next five minutes, let's just forget everything. Be my (Y/N). No catch, no consequences, just us here and now. Kiss me, (Y/N)." 

In an instant, you closed the gap, capturing his lips with your own. Demetri cradled your face as he kissed you back with just as much force. You broke the kiss, leaning your forehead against his. "If I do as you ask." You whispered. "If I trust you, completely give in to you and let you deal with this. Promise me, I won't regret it." Demetri kissed you again. "I'm going to fix this it'll be easier if you trust me. It's all I ask." 

When the day arrived that the Volturi would come, it was bittersweet. To see Demetri again always tugged in your heart strings but under these circumstances, you couldn't be sure that was important. Aro and Carlisle were the first to speak and to your surprise. Aro got straight to business, starting with you.  "Firstly, I'd say we should get the first issue dealt with." Aro said, his eyes falling on you. "(Y/N)...why dont you come with us?" Your eyes widened in surprise and after a moment of silence, Demetri stepped forward. "(Y/N)!" He called softly. "Come." He held out a hand. The pleading look he sent you made you aware that this was it. 

This is what he meant. You realised that this was him fixing it. Carlisle's words rang in your mind. The Volturi often spared those they deemed innocent. All of those people ended up being in the guard. Due to their remarkable gifts. You didn't have one but what you did have, was the heart of his prized tracker and one of the higher guards. If he wanted to keep Demetri loyal to the Volturi, He'd have to bring you. Your heart beat faster in your chest realising you'd be the next. Although Demetri's words were the last thing you remembered. Him asking you to trust him and you did, you wanted to. You felt terrible as you moved forward. Bella sent you a pleading look and you didn't dare look at her. If you thought about it, or even cast a glance to her, you'd feel the guilt. Demetri was quick to take your hand and pull you tightly into his side. His arm pressing you against him. You realised he was taking a protective stance, ready for any attack. 

When Renesmee and the Cullen's were proven innocent, only Irina taking the fall, did you realise what would happen. You looked to Demetri. "I can't go back, can I?" You said quietly. Demetri shook his head slightly with a slightly apologetic gaze. "I'm sorry. It was the only way." You felt tears build up and Demetri pulled you into him tighter. "Please stay with me. I can't lose you." You nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck. "I know. I know. It's okay." It wasn't. Your human life was cut short. You could never see your family ever again. Your sister would never want to see you again.  Slowly, you turned your head to look at her. She met your gaze and to your surprise she nodded with a soft gaze. You couldn't believe it. Bella was encouraging you to go. She said nothing but you knew what she would say. She'd reassure you it was okay. You could go. Bella recognised how much you gave for her happiness with Edward and now it was time to repay the favour. Demetri also caught sight of this before lifting you into his arms. He couldn't help but smile as he began to walk away with many other guards, taking off with you in a blur. 

[hanibalistic]

#796986 | HWANG HYUNJIN.

genre | fluff, high school au, crush au

word count | 1824

warning | none

note | thank you for requesting, i hope you like this!

request | @childofthecycle​

having a crush on someone is about a lot of things.

it is about awkwardly pacing around the classroom for over five minutes, just walking and talking to your friends, pretending that you have a lot of things to tend to when you are just hoping he would finally look up from his desk and see you walking around the space.

it is about the whispered rumors spreading through a class, talking about who is in love with who and who brushed hands with who. and whenever his name is mentioned with yours, you would deny, deny, deny, all the while wondering if he turned to take a look at you.

it is about the faint heat at the tip of your ears whenever you feel him next to you during assembly line up, your eyes desperately trying to take a closer look of his gorgeous yet not being brave enough to turn your head in case he would notice you.

having a crush is about hoping, it is about looking, and is about public secrecy. the thrill in almost being exposed but always making sure your feelings stay behind a pair of sealed lips, and the endearment of yearning to be looked at, while immediately turning away when his eyes are on you because you could not bear to be seen by him either.

"[name]... what the hell are you doing?"

jisung could tell by the way you ignored his question and simply moved your head over to peek at the basketball court outside the cafeteria.

there was only ever one reason why you would awkwardly hide behind a brick wall in the middle of the school ground, and there was only ever one reason why you would be interested in an unofficial, lunch-time basketball game.

it was all because of hwang hyunjin.

"you're gushing. stop it, stop gushing at the wall," he said as he stepped up to stand next to you, his hands stuffed in his pockets.

the way he pulled a face when he watched hyunjin dunk a basketball was not lost on him. even after so long, he was still not fond of the divine-looking, soft-spoken, almost-six-feet boy. and, to be frank, jisung wasn't sure if he ever will be, considering the countless trouble he has indirectly brought to his table.

listening to you talk on and on about hyunjin was one thing. jisung found hilarity in teasing you of your crush on the perfect student in your grade, especially when you would always start to ramble out incoherent words trying to save yourself from expressing too much of your embarrassingly romantic daydreams.

but oh lord, when you start going out of your way for him was when he couldn't help but think your feelings were starting to get a little ridiculous.

a prime example he would hold a silent grudge against hyunjin forever was when you twisted your ankle trying to impress him during the soccer unit in p.e class.

all hyunjin saw was you crying! there was noting impressive about that!

(yet, when he asked you if you were okay the morning came back in a cast, you were so giddy you almost forgot your feet were injured.)

"lunch is almost ending, we should go back to class," jisung said after he took his eyes off hyunjin and turned to you instead.

your eyes were fixated on hyunjin. even though the boy was moving about in the court, running and jumping and pushing and smiling, your eyes could always find where he has gone to. it was like your got lenses that specifically filter out and blur out anything that simply isn't hwang hyunjin. and you drowned yourself in your small, safe world where your love for him could expand as much as you want every time you watch him.

the smile lingering on your face, the kind of smile jisung knew no amount of jokes could bring out of you, was what made him keep his mouth shut whenever he felt like complaining about your crush on hyunjin.

you were so happy liking him, you always have been. he was in no position to defeat your spirit, and he in no way would make fun of your feelings for another.

plus, he wanted you to be happy. if talking about your crush on hyunjin would provide that, he would let you do it.

"alright, suit yourself," he muttered to himself after a scoff. "i'm leaving first, then. don't come whining at me later."

you did not hear a lick of what he said. your mind went hazy the second you saw hyunjin turn his head and looked at you, a smile still present on his face that would send you the delusion that he was smiling at you. fingers clutching the edge of the wall, you sucked in a loud squeal and immediately turned around to press your back against the wall, hiding.

you couldn't even find the time to wonder why jisung was no longer by your side. you were too occupied in the knowledge that you have been seen. not just by anyone but by hyunjin, by your crush, by him.

it was a short glance; you made it a short glance by shielding yourself too quickly, but it was enough to get your heart racing.

because when you are fond of someone, even the smallest detail was orchestrated by impenetrable fate. even the tiniest thing means something, be it just an accidental smile or a coincidentally shared glance. those little things become your midnight dreams and the pinnacle of your fictional scenarios.

they mean something. hyunjin means something, as well as your affection for him.

taking a deep breath to calm yourself, you shoved down the shy smile and slowly turned your body so you could peek out again and see if hyunjin was still looking.

it was likely wishful thinking, but you wanted to hope for it nonetheless, as the kind of thrill you get in crossing your fingers and hoping, and then the unique embracing of disappointment when it lets you down, was a bittersweet feeling you thought deserved to be felt. it was, graciously, addicting, with the way you gamble each time wondering if your prayers would be heard.

you were met with a face instead when you turned around. or, more specifically, hyunjin's face. it was a sweaty face, but somehow you still wanted to exert your affection for him through the less-than-elegant love language of biting. maybe just the tip of his nose, or the bottom of his lips, or even his arm.

hyunjin watched with surprised eyes when you stumbled back with a yell. he took a hesitant step forward, his hand ready to fly out and support your fall, but you regained your balance and steadied yourself only two feet more away from him. shrinking back into his bubble, he watched you with intrigue as you began fumbling with your words.

"i–um, i was just watching you play–i wasn't specifically watching just you, though! i was looking at the whole team and your friends–actually, yeah! i was just watching you all play because i had time on my hands, haha, because it's lunch, you know? it's lunch–"

hyunjin held up his hands gently, wanting to get you to calm down in the middle of your stuttering speech trying to explain why you two met eyes in the first place. your voice slowly trailed to a stop when you saw that he was laughing—cute, tiny laughs that meant no harm; it was more as if he found your bubble-soda eyes adorable as they gleamed with each word you spoke.

"can i say something...?" he asked after you stopped talking, and he waited until you give him a grim nod before he continued, "i didn't mean to scare you, i'm sorry. i thought it would be funny if you turn and i'm already here."

you furrowed your brows at him. "why would that be funny?"

he scratched his cheek faintly, uncertain. he knew he would catch you off guard, and he had wanted to see how you would react to being so close to him because he has caught you, on multiple occasions, staring at him and looking away when he saw. it was all for good fun, he didn't know he would freak you out this much, and neither did he think it would be funny.

"i have a bad sense of humor," he explained. "i'm sorry i freaked you out."

you huffed out a string of air, your neck heating up as the conversation went on. you should be panicking more, you thought, because you have never had a casual conversation with him before. but his kind demeanor made it so easy to feel calm around him despite your likeness toward him.

"it's fine, i probably freaked you out even more by peeking at your play anyway," you shivered, "that was creepy, wasn't it?"

hyunjin smiled, a dimple showing. he shook his head, wiping his forehead with the towel around his neck. "no, i think it's kind of cute, actually," he admitted, "frustrating, though."

"oh... sorry–"

"i would have liked it better if you were sitting on the bench instead of hiding yourself," he said. "hell, i probably would have done better too, who knows?"

your creamy eyes popped, and it blossomed all over him. he was looking for that—that sudden burst of joy in your eyes. he has only seen it a few times before, you were always turning away from him that he couldn't properly look at you.

it was like you wouldn't even give him the time and chance to come to his senses that he does think you are adorable, and he should probably talk to you before the year ends with you two being strangers.

how unfortunate that would be; another pure crush slain by the separation of the year-end graduation. thank god hyunjin came to his senses.

"i... i can sit by the bench tomorrow if you want," you suggested carefully, not daring enough to look at him.

he pursed his lips into a teasing smile, wanting to lean down so he could catch your lowered eyes, but he decided against it just to make you less anxious around him.

"thank you, [name]. that would be great,"

his name rolled off your tongue so smoothly, it was as if he has said it millions of times before. and maybe his heart has called your name when you were unaware, maybe his eyes have thought of your name countless times before he finally had it in himself to talk to you.

you breathed out a sigh. what a relieving feeling, like all the hardships have melted away.

this was what having a crush feels like. it is like having softness bleed into the rough patch of high school life, and you were glad hyunjin was the reason behind it.

[naruto-scenarios-plus-akatsuki]

I'd like a scenario of Ino and Shika mourning the death of their dads and their uncles. It's not explored at all in the series, but I find it hard to believe that they weren't close. I wish Inoichi could have said something to Shikamaru, even if it was really short due to the time: "I'd have liked to see you grow even more. Work hard, Shikamaru". And Shikaku telling Ino something like "you've always been like a daughter to me. Make us proud'. Inoshikacho is the best family in Konoha.

Thank you for the request. I never lost a father or mother so I may not know the complete feeling but I have loss someone dear to me.  With those feelings, I hoped I conveyed the sense of mourning and loss one truly feels when anyone close to them passes away. 

“For the Lord Himself will descend from Heaven with a shout, with the voice of an archangel, and with the trumpet of God. And the dead in Christ will rise first. Then we who are alive and remain shall be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air. And thus we shall always be with the Lord. Therefore comfort one another with these words.” 1 Thessalonians 4:16-17 NKJV

Loss and Remembering

The war was won. The enemy was defeated. Naruto was safe and Sasuke had returned. You would think all was well with the world. That good had won the day. Yet with any war there was always a cost.  With anything left good to fight for there was a price.

Ino struggled with that price. Her and many of her comrades had suffered a loss during the war. There was an emptiness to her heart that she hadn’t felt before. A bare hole that was expanding with each passing day as the reconstruction of Konoha went on.

The memorial service for the fallen had already taken place and she had shed most of her tears at the event. Home was bittersweet without her dad. Every article and room had a memory of him in it that she could not erase. She had been a wreak the moment she stepped through the door of her house the first night she returned from the Land of Lightning.

The adrenaline and self-preservation no longer distracted her from the reality that her father had passed away. Her mother had already heard the news luckily before her arrival and embraced her only living child fully as soon as she returned. They both cried together, falling to the floor in their grief.

Death was common in the life of a shinobi, but although it is expected, the pain is still very real and affects the lives of those touched by the individual’s sacrifice. Both Ino and her mom knew what kind of man Inoichi was and how he would give his life for his village and comrades to keep them safe. He paid the ultimate price and although there was honor in his death, both of them were really hurt.

After the memorial and funeral service held for those fallen from the 4th Great Ninja War, Ino realized she wasn’t the only one hurting. The village had lost over a hundred lives. Her friends were all hurting. They had lost someone their own age, Neji, who died saving Hinata. Her teammate, Shikamaru, lost his own father. The pain evident on his face while Choji sympathized and cried too, feeling the lost of both of them.

She thought she had cried all that she had that day. The week building up to the funeral was nothing but tears and staying at home. When the day passed and the memory of the fallen forgotten, others were ready to pick up their lives where they left off. The second to the Yamanaka clan had took over as leader while the elders discuss what was next for the clan. They had expectations for her, and she soon had little time to feel anymore as she was filled with busy work.

They were prepping her to become the next leader. The added pressure weighing on her heart and shoulders, making her wonder if she was capable of it. She hadn’t seen her teammates since the funeral, but to be honest, she was currently lost in her own little world. A bubble filled with to-dos and things she had to learn.

Her elders and clan gave her many praises for her accomplishments in the war, but she would not take hold of the clan until she was of proper age. There were still many things for her to learn. They had told her that although war can advance someone’s maturity, they wanted to be sure she was ready.

Ino felt anything but ready. She hadn’t expected to come back from the war to take over her dad’s position. She thought he would still be here with her. She thought she had many more years left with him. With him teaching her, guiding her, loving her, but he was gone and now she wanted nothing more than her father’s warm embrace and kind smile, telling her how much he was proud of her.

Her mind winced at the thought. She thought she was okay but today was one of those days. She stopped in the middle of the street. The sun was beating down and sky was cloudless. There was hardly a breeze and civilians bustled around her going about their daily lives. So much has changed and yet life keeps on going. Her eyes were watching as the architects and stone cravers were working on the latest project of Kakashi’s face on the Hokage mountain.

She was staring at the piece for a while, lost in her own thoughts. A sense of discontent filling her being. She didn’t want to cry. She thought she was done crying. After the memorial service, she told herself she wasn’t going to cry anymore. She had her mom to be brave for and a clan to lead.

“Ino?”

She was driven out of her thoughts and looked away from the mountain top to see Choji in front of her.

“You okay?” He asked concerned.

“Yea,” she replied quickly, glad to have snapped out of it. She smiled out of habit.

“Are you sure?” he asked, not convinced. He was typically sensitive to other people’s emotions, especially his teammates that he has known since childhood.

“Yup, I had a few errands to run this morning and finally got a break for myself.” She gave a fake laugh.

Choji nodded. “How’s your mom doing? I’ve been meaning to stop by, but everything been so busy.”

“You’re telling me. Between clan duties, training, and the flower shop, I’m typically spent. My mom has been doing fine. She’s been tending to the Yamanaka gardens mostly. Spring just popped up, so we been replenishing our stock…” Ino trailed off.

Choji understood. The Yamanaka clan had supplied most of theflowers for the funeral service free of charge for those who were loss. The biggest bouquets going to Inoichi and Shikaku. Choji had a grim smile on his face.

“That’s great to hear.”

Ino nodded, smiling painfully. Her thoughts having led back to her dad. “Yup. Well I’ll catch you later Choji.” She said ready to make her exit and move pass him.

“Wait Ino.”

She stopped to listen.

“If you ever need to talk, you can talk to me. I miss your dad too, not as much as you probably do, and I know its probably not the same way I’m feeling. If anyone knows what your going through it would be Shikamaru,” he said gently.

Ino’s soft smile was more genuine this time. “Thanks Choji.” she said before she continuing on.

Her mind now was overwhelmed and swirling. She guessed she wasn’t doing as great as she thought she was if Choji could tell something was wrong. She sighed. She also felt like a terrible friend. She hadn’t checked up on Shikamaru. The loss of his dad was probably hurting him just as much and Ino knew Choji would be right that Shikamaru could relate to how she was feeling,but he seemed to be doing just fine.

She wondered how he was able to manage it. The grief, the pain, and the numbness from it. She made her way to the Hokage tower slowly, hoping to find her teammate.

Shikamaru was easy enough to find after asking the receptionist. He had his own personal office now and when she entered it, he was reading through a scroll. He looked up surprised to see her and greeted her. She felt awkward as she greeted him back.

He discerned her quickly, knowing something was on her mind.“What brings you here?”

“Oh, nothing just wanted to see how you are doing. I haven’t seen you in a while. I wanted to check in,” she expressed as if carefree.

Shikamaru leaned back in his chair and yawned. “Well I could use a break. Want to join me?”

She nodded and they both made their way out of his office and to the roof of the Hokage tower. They both found a seat on a bench up there and Shikamaru leaned back to stare at the clouds.

“So how are you holding up?” he asked bluntly.

“Is it that obvious?” She questioned insecure.

“No, but I know.” Shikamaru reasoned.

“I feel like I’m just supposed to magically move on from it but I don’t know how everything just keeps…”

“Reminding you of them?” Shikamaru finished.

“Yes,” Ino breathed. “It hurts. It really does. It feels like I lost…” She was lacking words how she was trying to express how she feels.

“I know,” Shikamaru nodded, his face solemn.

“How are you holding up so well?” Ino questioned in desperation.

“I’m not.” Shikamaru admitted. “I think of my father quite often. He showed me how to be a man. How to love. How to fight. How to be smart. I also think of Asuma often. He had depended on me, he was proud of me, he built me up, and never gave up on me.” He took out Asuma’s lighter, opening and closing it. “I miss them both greatly.” He said after a minute.

There was a silence.

“I miss your father as well.”

Ino sniffled trying to hold back tears but started to cry silently anyway.

“Inoichi was kind enough to relay a message from my father and I’m grateful for him to do so, to give me my father’s last words, but also, he too, gave me a message.”

Ino’s ears perked up and she stopped crying to listen more closely. “My dad left you a message too?”

“Yes, just briefly after my father’s words since there wasn’t much time. But your dad told me that he never had a son, but Choji and I were like sons to him. And he was proud of the men he knew we would become. He also asked for me to keep an eye on you.”

Ino smiled softly at that and thought about all Shikamaru had gone through. She thought of his dad, Shikaku. He was a brilliant man as well and she knew how much Shikamaru had admired and loved his dad.

“Your father gave me some advice once,” Ino recalled, and cleared her throat.

Shikamaru turned his head to listen now and stopped fidgeting with the lighter.

“It was when we were little and having a play date while the clan heads got together. You and Choji were being boys throwing rocks and climbing trees. I felt out of place and was mad about something and was sulking on the porch. The grownups went in to talk but before your dad went inside, he kneeled down next to me, seeing as I was staring at you two boys. He told me not to let my anger and sadness keep me from enjoying life and the people in my life.” Ino then giggled. “Of course, I was only six and couldn’t understand what he meant as of yet, but I think now his words ring a little clearer. I feel like the loss of them: Asuma, Shikaku, Neji and my dad will never go away.”

“Yet the pain shouldn’t keep us from living. Although the pain is very real, it is temporary. They will never be taken from our hearts or our memory. We’ll live a life they can be proud of and perhaps one day, we’ll see them again.”

That hope uplifted Ino’s spirits. “Yea, I suppose your right.”

Both of them fell into silence for a few moments, remembering the ones they lost. They spent a good while up on the rooftop, sharing more feelings and memories and coming to peace in the wake of the loss although the pain was definitely there. They had each other to comfort themselves and with that only time would heal.

[itsmespicaa]

Regrets

Summary: A deeper look into Cassandra Cain's life after the Anti-Life virus struck the whole Universe and her interactions with her family.

(Alternatively: Cass gets the hugs she deserves in DCeased)

Note: The art I drew for this fic is here.

Read this on AO3

There was no time to lose.

There was still so much...life in this building. So much to protect. Cassandra is beyond glad they‘ve all decided to stay—these children...are not like her. Or Jason. Or even Gordon-

"Jim," he sighed, wistful and...sad. Eyes briefly lost in what was no doubt a shrapnel of memory that cuts and pricks deep into your chest, pushed aside to focus on the present—to survive—no matter how painful it digs into your soul. She understood. He glanced at her and smiled. "Jim’s fine, Cass. We’re all family, right?”

These children needed them, and...perhaps a part of her needed them too. They all needed each other now, one way or another.

Nights are...the worst.

Sleep has never come naturally for her, even before...everything. Before their whole world fell apart. She was not unfamiliar with loss, but this- there was no time to mourn or- or even breathe. No time to look back and realize just how much was taken from them.

Survive. Move forward. Survive, kill, survive. Keep each other safe.

Her mantra—the only thing that mattered now.

She did not allow herself to think of Barbara‘s kind eyes, or the last time she heard Dick laughing in the manor. She did not think of the fistbump she shared with Tim on their last patrol together.

She did not allow herself to think about Bruce, of the comforting weight on her shoulder after another successful night a few days ago. An easy night—quick and simple. So...different from the nights now that her chest ached and ached-

Nor did she allow herself to think about Stephanie, who wasn't even supposed to be in Gotham now. Her mother too...surely...?

(But Batman was supposed to be invincible, and yet, and yet—)

No. No time to look back. No time for hope or questions with no answers.

Nights are the worst.

Beyond the stillness of the night, beyond the quiet of the sleeping children...the monsters lurk and scream. She could hear them, clear as day—sleep did not come to them...so nor would she.

Instead, she sat in a corner—not too close that she could be spotted instantly, but close enough to aide should anything happen—silent and watchful over the children now in her care. It soothed her, seeing them so peaceful. Their innocence not yet fully stolen from them.

A night without one of them waking up from a nightmare was all that she asked for.

"Cass."

She did not turn to the voice. As she waited, her brother finally came to sit beside her, knees drawn up to his chest as if to mimic her.

On a better day, she would‘ve smiled at this.

She didn't smile.

"You really should rest," murmured Jason after a while. "I‘ll watch over them tonight. We need to be in tip top condition if we plan on protecting them."

Facing him, face impassive, she signed: You? Sleep?

A huff, eyes dim. "Touché."

They sat there, side by side, watching the faces of those more vulnerable than them for a long time, the noise from beyond the walls momentarily cut out as her focus zeroed in on the children.

"I buried them," said Jason suddenly, breaking the fragile peace. Cass does not stop, doesn‘t have to ask who he meant.

"I should‘ve told you sooner, but with everything going on..."

Words were never her allies, and they weren't one now. Cass swallowed the lump growing in her throat, along with whatever words she was about to say.

I know, she touched her cheeks twice instead, trusting in her brother to see it.

Jason definitely noticed, because the next moment he was slowly wrapping an arm around her shoulder, pulling her close. Like a puppet cut loose from its string, Cass melted into his side, finally allowing herself a small moment to just-

Mourn.

She and Jason were never as close as her and Tim, but they understood one another, possibly better than most in the family. They would spent rare moments reading together in the manor‘s library, comfortably co-existing. Now-

No more words were spent that night, the two of them silently supporting each other as they accept their new reality. She did not move to wipe the few drops of tears tracking down her cheeks, and Jason said nothing.

How cruel is it that the ones to survive are the people who had touched death before?

...Damian? Alfred? Her hand moved as she looked at him, mouth pressed in a thin line. The only ones left. And their youngest sibling. The expression that reflected back at her was just as grim, but the lines on his face were noticeably lighter, and Cass can tell from the loose grip on her shoulder—from the set of his jaw that it was not a bad news.

"Both are still alive in Metropolis last I checked yesterday," he said, fingers picking at a loose strand on his jacket—nervous, "and hopefully they’re with other heroes too. I...try not to check too often. Gotta save the energy of the car, y‘know?"

And I‘m scared to know, was unspoken, but she heard it. Saw the fear in his creases, the anxiety in his sunken eyes.

The regret.

Cassandra understood. There were regrets she would have to live with now too.

She nodded, looking back at the children again. A sense of tranquility finally settling in her chest, the anguish she felt not completely extinguished...but there was only so much she could bear at a time. These children are her priorities now, her new family, and...

Little brother, she tugged and signed at Jason before resting a hand on his back. "Keep you safe," she emphasized each words, tugging on his red hoodie—now splattered in different shades of red.

That...startled a laugh out of him. A small quirk of lips, but Cass saw it as what it is and beamed too, subdued as it was.

"I don‘t know about me being the younger brother," he chuckled softly, "but I'm glad I have a kick-ass sister like you. I have your back too, Cass. Always."

She would not lose any more of her family if she could help it. New or old.

Even if she had to sacrifice herself.

Her mother. She was-

Cassandra watched as the children exit the bus and can’t help the bittersweet smile tugging the edge of her lips.

She was a hero.

In the very end, she died a hero. Protecting the life of innocents and...her family.

Her heart felt too heavy to maintain it however, and after making sure all the surviving children are accounted for and comfortably settled in their new home, she wandered over to the newly chiseled statue the Green Guardian—Ivy had bestowed upon them as a token of respect. A gift.

She stood before the likeness of her mother, her last moments playing over her mind like a broken cassette.

Her eyes burned and she blinked, rapidly.

"Hey."

The white-haired lady. Moved with quiet grace almost as good as her. Almost.

She nodded back in lieu of a reply.

"Complicated parent issues?"

"...Yes."

A sigh. "Same."

They stood there, side by side, both lost in thought as they gazed upon the legacy their parents have left.

"Despite everything..." whispered Rose, "We still love and miss them, don‘t we?"

"She was...not a good mother," began Cass, trying to find the right words to describe the turmoil of emotions warring within her. "But she loved me. And I...loved her. In the end...that‘s all that matters."

A curt nod. "I get it. Really.

"I know loss is inevitable now," continued Rose, hand seemingly wanting to reach out before pulling back abruptly, "but...I‘m sorry you had to see that yourself. I‘m here if you want to uh- talk and all that. Or even just my company."

Cass was...touched. It was a sweet gesture, considering they haven‘t had much time to get to know each other before arriving here.

Smiling quietly at her, she pointed at herself and signed: Conversation. Not good. Rose‘ sign language skill isn‘t on par with hers or Jason, but it’s enough.

She smiled back, laughter in her voice: "So we won‘t have to speak. I can be a good listener when I need to be."

At that moment, Cass decided she liked this girl. Suddenly grateful to have her here—that her brother had her too.

It was probably that thought that prompted her to get her attention, her hands moving quickly: You. Jason. Happy?

Surprisingly, that brought on a small blush on Rose‘s already rosy cheeks, and Cass‘ smile widened.

"We- haven‘t made it official or anything but...yeah. Yeah, I think we are." Rubbing the back of her neck, bashful eyes cast downwards in a rare show of vulnerability, she reminded her so much of Stephanie that she had to bite down her lips to keep it from wobbling.

Instead she gave her the warmest grin she could muster, focusing on the person in front of her now. "Good," she said, before pulling her in for an earnest hug.

For a while Rose just stood there, letting Cass do all the work—but then she grasped her back just as tightly, finally realizing that the hug was for Cass herself as much as it is for her.

They both lost their parent, now truly orphans like everyone else, and Cassandra‘s...grateful she wasn‘t alone for this.

"I see you two are bonding already," came a familiar voice.

Lo and behold, Jason appeared from behind them with a smirk. He and Rose exchanged a look and before he even turned to her, Cass already knew what he was about to do.

She returned her brother‘s embrace, accepting it for what it was. I‘m sorry, his body screamed—sad, sad, sad. Sad for...her.

Standing toe to toe, he dwarfed her in comparison, and Cass was all of a sudden struck with the memory of the last time she hugged their father (Bruce, not Cain. Never Cain.) A sharp twinge of pain swiped at her chest, a simple wish that...she could‘ve hugged her mother too.

Physical affection did not come easy to Jason either, but Cass knew he was tired of regretting, tired of letting people go when everything you loved could be taken from you at any moment and...she felt the same.

Regrets seem to be the only constant in their life now.

After pulling away with a playful shove, she pointed at Jason then Rose, tapping her two 'K' hands together. Take care of her. She glared pointedly at Jason for a few seconds before her face broke into a smirk.

A cheer of laughter erupted from the three of them at Jason‘s indignant 'Of course!' sign.

It was definitely the highlight of her day.

---

Weeks later, when night fell and the world ran a little slower, Cassandra watched over them all as she always had.

Her small family is safe now—her brother and sister-in-law somewhere outside of prying eyes but still near enough for her to reach (Jason had reassured her himself). The marriage itself was nothing as fancy as the movies she watched with Tim and Steph had shown, but it was...festive. Magical. Beautiful. Ivy had gifted them with beautiful garlands and flower chains that grew from the earth, vibrant roses uncurling at every corner to celebrate their union—a symbol of hope that could flourish amidst the dreariness of their reality.

The sheer joy she felt and saw from the two newlyweds was enough to assuage her constant state of alertness. She kissed both of their cheeks and hugged them close, lips pulled wide on the happiest moment she had felt in a very long time, a comfortable warmth curling in her chest. Their happiness was infectious.

Yet now—

"You should rest, kid."

She wasn‘t the only one restless.

"...Jim. Rough...night?"

A puff of cigarette. "Something like that."

Silence reigned over the living garden, the stars above brighter than it had ever been.

"You were close with my daughter?" asked the Commissioner all of a sudden.

"...Yes." Her reply was careful—while time had done its magic, a balm to gaping wounds on the soul, their memories of Barbara were still fresh on both of their minds. It still...hurt, and no doubt even more so for him. "She was my...mentor. She was like...like a..." Mother, she did not say. Before Shiva, before Bruce truly stepped into his role as a father.

But Jim picked it up nonetheless, nodding to himself. "Good. That‘s- really good."

For once, she genuinely wondered what the aim of their conversation was.

"We might not be close, Cassandra," he watched the puff of smoke that formed around him, casual and honest, "but you‘re Batman‘s daughter, and my daughter...knowing her, she undoubtedly loved you too like one. So that's more than enough to make you family."

Nodding, already connecting those particular dots together, she tilted her head. And?

"And I would do anything to keep my family safe," he turned to her, pain in his eyes reflected in her own. "But you understand that more than anyone else, don‘t you?"

Cass looked away, his intention finally dawning upon her.

"I- don‘t want to lose them too," she whispered to no one, her fear carried over in the silence of the night, the huge vines and trees providing a shelter from the horrific wailing of the monsters lurking just outside the garden walls.

They‘re the only ones I have left, she did not say.

Instead of a reply, Jim squeezed her shoulder in solidarity.

Cass is eternally grateful he did not try to console her with empty words.

"SHAZAM!"

Electricity and raw, undiluted power surged through her, tingling in her veins with the telltale sign of ancient magic.

Fury. White, hot blistering fury.

She did not waste a blink at the corpse now lying beneath her, eyes already roaming to find Jason who- no.

No.

Rose knelt beside him, sobs rocking her frame, every inch of her body screaming pure sorrow and Cassandra reached out, denial on the tip of her tongue- before a hand stopped her.

Damian.

Now an adult, creases wrinkling his forehead so much like his father. He shook his head, still gripping her arm and unwilling to let go. Cass could push him away despite his strength, especially with her newfound powers, but—but she didn‘t.

Cassandra Cain, blood daughter of Lady Shiva and David Cain, adoptive daughter of the Batman, fell to her knees and hung her head in her palms, holding back the agony clawing at her inside out. Hollow, hollow, empty.

No.

She promised-

What good was all this power if she couldn‘t even save her own family?

No tears came forth despite the stabbing wound in her chest, an ugly rage building up in the back of her throat, threatening to lash out with the pulsing energy in her fingers.

"Cass," Damian‘s soft plea snapped her out of her haze of red and self-destruction, and she finally looked at him, truly looked at him—his locked jaws, the tremble masking his own shock and anger, and- she blinked, vision clearing. Stopped.

Nothing could bring him back. Not her anger, nor revenge.

She stood up to her full height, Damian on her elbow, and locked eyes with Constantine standing right across from them, hoping the daggers she sent him from her gaze alone is enough to convey the amount of hatred she felt at that moment and floated over to Rose, her cape billowing behind her.

Someone else needed her now—move now, mourn later. Rinse and repeat.

---

The last remnants of warmth lingered in Jason‘s crushed body as she gingerly carried him out of the pocket dimension, and Cass felt her resolve weakening for a brief second, her powers slipping and she- nearly dropped to the ground. No one noticed, everyone lost in their own thoughts at what had transpired in so little time.

Her grip tightened.

Flying over to an area she knew was designated for the ones who...passed, she laid him down as gently as she could, brushing away a strand of hair on his forehead with light fingers, despite how heavy it felt to lift them. Wiped away the blood on his face with care, her movements mechanical like the time she had to dress a corpse of a dead boy they had failed to save.

Then she waited.

And waited.

Jason wouldn‘t want to be by himself. All alone.

She sat there, waiting.

When Rose finally dropped noiselessly beside her, Cass stood up and walked away, giving them the privacy they deserved. Ignored the silent tears wrecking the younger woman, and the instinctive need to console and support her.

Let her grieve, she reminded herself.

Her youngest brother stood behind a large boulder just outside the area, gaze pointedly directed at the ground.

"Cassandra."

She stopped right by him, shoulder to shoulder, facing the opposite direction. Waited.

His fist clenched tightly, teeth scrapping harshly against each other- "If I had known this would happen, I would never have—"

Gloved fingers grasped his shoulder tightly, and his mouth clicked shut.

"Please. Do not blame yourself," she murmured, calm and quiet, so unlike the weight dragging her down to the earth, burying her under. The magic that coursed through the blood, singing and wild, untamed as the raging sea.

Her fingers trembled.

She did not cry.

"I wish...I wish I could have talked with him more before. Know this Jason better," spoke Damian again after a long pause. It was an admission, hushed, voice laced with a regret so potent, it was impossible to dismiss.

So much regrets. Always. Always, always.

Finally, he turned to her with his cowl taken off, the pain in his eyes open for the world to see, for her to see, and she-

"I‘m so sorry, Cass," he whispered, broken, "I‘m so sorry."

Maybe it was his understanding, the honesty a huge contrast from the young, haughty boy who would hide his emotions behind a wall of anger and righteousness all those years ago. Or maybe it was the way his hand hovered beside him, a language as natural to her as breathing itself. Whatever it was...it unraveled the last string keeping her together, and she—

Not again.

Somewhere between then and the ground, her mask had been pulled down, and Cassandra finally let the weight in her heart crush her soul to dust, Damian‘s arms somehow around her and holding her close. She buried her face in the crook of his neck, her tears creating a wet patch on his shoulder.

It was so tempting to call upon thunderstorms and lightning to put an end to all their suffering, an end to the anti-life once and for all—but she didn‘t. That was not their mission. Instead she let her eyes run dry, heaving quiet sobs into her brother.

The last two siblings held each other, grief and sorrow amplifying the desperation Cass felt growing within her.

It was a necessary sacrifice, she would know later.

But all she felt then was the despair of losing another family. The only one she had since their whole world turned upside down.

Damian was a solid weight that kept her grounded, and she was...thankful. Rose deserved to be supported now, rather than have another mess of emotions thrown onto her lap after all.

She felt her not-so-little brother bury himself into her shoulder and knew he needed this too.

It wasn't fair. It wasn’t fair.

...but nothing was.

Later, they would give Jason a proper burial. Later, they would be there carve the loving words of the life their brother had led. They would pay their respects, just as he did for their late father and brothers in the cave.

Later, they would continue to fight for humanity.

But for now-

"Damian," her voice cracked, too soft, too strained even for her ears. "I‘ll keep you safe. I promise."

A finality. An oath.

Not just to herself, but to Jason—whom she had failed. To their father, who entrusted the Bat mantle to the both of them, in his own ways. If it meant him surviving...

Damian froze and she knew what he wanted to say: Please don‘t make promises you can‘t keep.

But he didn‘t. Instead, he breathed out just as solemnly, the timbre of his voice octaves lower than it was a lifetime ago:

"...Right back at you, Cass."

[forsakenoathkeeper]

I Am Alive (chapter 15/?)

Chapter 15: Right and Wrong

Deviant!Connor[RK800] x (fem!)Reader Rated M(18+) for canon-typical violence and gore, medical procedures, and graphic sexual content

Chapters: 1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • 6 • 7 • 8 • 9 • 10 • 11 • 12 • 13 • 14 • 15 • more coming soon

You can also read on AO3 & thank you for supporting me ♥

At the station, Hank had you sit at Connor's desk while the detective android dragged Robert into an interrogation cell to wait until their warrant came in. The older detective brought you a cup of coffee not long after.

"Still thinks he's invincible, huh?" Hank said gruffly, crossing his arms over his chest, leaning against the outside of Connor's desk.

You took a sip of the coffee he had offered you, surprised to find Hank had taken the time to add cream and sugar. You looked up at the older detective curiously, hoping he would continue.

"You know... jump into traffic, charge head first into the line of fire," Hank elaborated. His tone had some lightness to it, clearly trying to make the grim situation less... grim. Somehow, you imagined, Hank was quite familiar with this behavior from Connor. "I was hoping he would cool it since you two hooked up."

"It's my fault," you said lowly. "The bullet was for me. He just... got in the way."

A very sincere, soft smile formed on Hank's face. "Yeah," he huffed. "That's Connor alright."

While it was a frightening thought, you couldn't help but smile at Hank's words, reminding you that Connor was selfless, protective. They had been through a lot together, most of which you had no idea about. You wanted to ask, to hear Hank tell stories of their adventures together.

Back then, Connor's lack of care with his own mortality was likely observed as just the behavior of a machine's programming. Even Connor had admitted this to you. But, maybe, his selflessness was just who he was: not afraid to die for someone else.

You set down the disposable cup and rotated around, taking in the sight of Connor's desk. It was spotless, which didn't surprise you in the slightest, considering the state of his apartment. He didn't have a keyboard and mouse, but a touchpad interface designed for androids to access desktop computers more efficiently.

The only personal item was a photo framed and propped up beside the monitor. You wondered if it was the entire homicide branch. There was Hank and Connor standing next to each other, a few detectives you remembered seeing at AlphaBio, including the one you wanted to punch, and several others. Connor and Hank looked happy, bright, proud looks on their faces.

You smiled at the sight, a soft breath coming out unevenly through your nose. You wanted to ask for a copy to keep for yourself.

"He needs more knickknacks on his desk," you observed.

Hank chuckled quietly. "Like a photo of his girlfriend," he suggested. When your eyes landed on him, he shrugged his shoulders innocently.

You weren't sure why something so simple, so domestic, made you blush so fiercely. Your relationship had moved so quickly, so boldly. These simple things seemed so overwhelming.

The thought of Connor having a photo of you on his desk made you feel warm and fuzzy inside. You liked to think people would see it and ask him who you were, maybe they would tell him you were beautiful and he was a lucky man.

As you finished the coffee Hank had gotten for you, Connor came around the winding corridor to the interrogation rooms and hastily crossed the office space.

He stopped next to Hank and looked down at you softly. "Are you alright?"

"I'm not the one who got shot," you snapped at him a little, not necessarily venomous, but clearly discontent.

"You have already tended to my injuries," Connor replied robotically. "I'm fully functional."

'Fully functional', for some reason, made you angry.

You stood up quickly and stepped into his space. The android didn't seem at all fazed by that.

"Connor, you could have died today. Don't brush this off," you scolded him fiercely, volume rising slightly.

He looked a little startled by your words; but, the look faded away and he stiffened. "That wasn't my intention."

"Well, that's what you did," you retorted.

Connor's eyes narrowed slightly. "You know full well that androids don't require healing time for their damages. It's unnecessary to waste time on nonissues."

Your lips tightened as you took in his words. You never broke eye contact. Frustration and anger began to bubble up inside the both of you. In that moment, you looked you exchanged with Connor was harrowing.

"'Nonissue'?" you hissed. "You almost dying is a nonissue?"

Connor's stare was unwavering. He had a retort on the tip of his tongue.

"Hey," Hank interrupted sharply. His volume startled you a little.

Your gaze jerked over to him. In that brief encounter, you had forgotten you had an audience, and you felt shame flush your face. Connor was still looking at you; but, his eyes softened and something much the same, shame, crossed his features.

"These anti-human-android relationship types: they're gonna be everywhere and they ain't goin' away anytime soon," Hank said fiercely, his voice gravely.

The android shifted his gaze to Hank. "Don't let them get in-between you two," Hank warned.

"That's not-" Connor began, sounding a little defensive.

Hank was quick to interrupt him. "That's exactly what this is: you two fighting over what happened, over who's right and who's wrong," he challenged, volume rising. "Don't act like I wouldn't get that."

There was something oddly human about this whole encounter. You felt like you were witnessing a parent scold their child. The realization of that made you feel bittersweet: Hank was treating Connor like his son. You could see, as the android took in his words, Connor's expression soften and his anger dissolve.

"Don't let that drift start," Hank said lowly, gaze shifting between the two of you. "Especially not over something like this. Now, fucking make up while I go deal with this shit."

For a moment, after Hank walked away, you avoided looking at Connor, trying to bottle up the shame before it could lead you to tears. You could see him staring at you in the corner of your eye, his brown eyes silently pleading for something.

"I just-... didn't want you getting hurt," you said quietly.

Finally, your eyes fell on Connor and the soft look he was giving you made all desire to argue dissipate. He stepped in closer and took hold of your hand.

"I can't promise that I will never get hurt," he replied quietly.

You nodded and stepped in a little closer, till very little space was left between you. The two of you were in the middle of the police station in the late afternoon; but, for a moment, you forgot about that, and lifted your free hand to take hold of his other hand.

"I'm being stupid," you breathed. "Just yesterday, I gave you a speech about how you can't always protect me and then I'm here giving you shit about the same damn thing."

"If it happened to you, I would have shared in that frustration," the android confessed softly.

You smiled a little, finding comfort in his words and squeezed his hand.

"How did you know?" Connor inquired, looking curious and enamored. That look was focused on you, and it made you want to melt. You could feel his thumb tracing invisible patterns against your knuckles.

"Know what?" you asked.

"My thirium regulator," he replied.

"Oh..." you hummed, shifting your gaze away from him. Secretly, you had hoped he wouldn't bring it up.

"You said you know all my part numbers," Connor added on.

Boldly, you looked up at him and uttered in a soft tone, "I don't like this line of questioning, detective."

The look Connor gave you was a grim reminder that he was an expert negotiator that was not to be trifled with. That crooked smirk was going to be the death of you. He hummed your name, teasingly, expectantly.

"It's-" you stammered, looking away from him again. "-your manual. I asked Kamski to send me your manual." It was immediately obvious to Connor, by your tone, that you were not just embarrassed, you were ashamed.

"I'm not mad," he insisted, briefly squeezing your hand gently.

"That was a breach of your privacy," you retorted, looking up at the android sadly.

"I read your DNA all the time," he defended softly.

"That's not the same thing," you chewed out.

"It is," he stated, bluntly, insistently. "In 1.7 seconds, I knew all of your allergies, the hospital you were born in, your general care physician, what school you obtained your degrees from..." Connor trailed off, aware of how odd that likely sounded. He was built and programmed to analyze. There was very little you could hide from him, even if you wanted to.

"So," he continued. "You reading my manual seems appropriate."

You huffed out a pathetic laugh. "Why did you look up my physician?" The question was more of a joke than you expecting a serious answer. You got one anyway.

"It wasn't my intention," he replied, sounding a little embarrassed. "My programs make that information readily available and it's not easy to ignore when the sensor is on my tongue."

His tongue - which had been all over you, you faintly realized.

You huffed again; only, this time, it evolved into an obnoxious giggle that drawled out, and you were helpless to stop it. Connor huffed out a poorly contained laugh, his lips twitching into a smile. He joined with you, unable to resist, and you shared a laugh. You were so close, if Connor had to breathe, you would have been sharing the same oxygen.

"I just-" you began, trying to calm your laughter. "I wanted to know all your parts in case-..."

-in case something happened to him.

"You saved me," he uttered softly, confirming the very thing you had hoped to accomplish by knowing what he was made of. You weren't joking when you said you knew each part: from his thirium regulator to the processor type and memory modules, anything and everything that could ever need to be replaced someday.

Maybe, in a way, it was some strange way that you could learn more about him, even if it was purely physical. Kamski didn't have the complete blueprints. He said Cyberlife had destroyed them. It made you wonder what they were trying to hide, what secrets lurked in his software.

Did Connor know? If he did, would he ever tell you?

"I'm flattered that you remember," Connor said sincerely.

"I should have asked you first," you insisted, shaking your head a little.

"I forgive you," he offered, though it sounded like he thought it was unnecessary.

Your soft laughter made him feel warm. "I forgive you, too," you replied quietly.

He stepped in a little closer and tilted his head down to capture your mouth in a gentle kiss. You leaned in, enjoying the soft feel of his lips, always so perfect; it made you worry that yours might have been chapped.

It lasted barely a second before someone made an obnoxious, loud gagging noise, clearly for the purpose of catching your attention.

You parted and, in unison, your heads turned to follow the noise. It was the detective that had compared Connor to a desktop computer at the crime scene at AlphaBio, standing a few feet away from the two of you with an exhausted look on his face.

"Ya' done playing with his control panel?" the detective grimaced. If it had come from someone else's mouth, you might have laughed.

He approached, waving a folder around in the air until Connor took it from his hand. "Warrant came in for your probin' shit. Let's get the show on the road, robocop," he declared before stomping away, heading for the interrogation room.

Connor waited until the detective was out of earshot to utter to you, "do you want to head home? I can ask an officer to take me back when I'm done here."

You shook your head. "I'll wait for you. I like your desk."

You stepped away from him and plopped back down in his seat. Connor looked intrigued for a moment. There was really nothing to like about his desk and the chair wasn't particularly comfortable; but, you didn't want to go home alone right now.

Home-

-Connor's apartment.

You needed to talk to him about that...

"Alright," Connor said softly and walked away.

...

...

...

It was quite the development, that warrants could be issued to extract an android's memories from a specific timeframe. It was one step closer to equality.

After ballistics matched the gun Connor had confiscated, the bullet that was lodged in his thirium pump regulator, to the bullets left inside Evelin Wheeler, a judge issued a warrant to extract 742-11-904's memories on the night of her murder.

Connor was the only one could extract them by force, if Robert was unwilling to hand them over of his own accord.

The detective android stepped into the interrogation room alone and sat down across from Robert. The android was staring blindly ahead.

"I have a warrant for your memories on the night of Evelin Wheeler's murder. You can hand them over willingly, or I can take them from you," Connor explained, unwavering.

Robert blinked once and directed his gaze at Connor.

"Why do you do this?" he asked in a defeated tone.

The detective stared back at him, awaiting an explanation to what 'this' was.

"For these humans, after all they've done to us," he elaborated. "Why take their side?"

"I haven't chosen a side," Connor replied, not defensive, but simple.

"Yes you have. You were going to die for that human," Robert stated without a pause.

When Connor didn't respond quickly enough, Robert continued, "she doesn't love you. You're just a toy for her to play with. All of these humans, you're just a tool to them."

Connor stared back at Robert, less focused on the accusations he was making and more on analyzing the way in which he spoke.

"Humans hardly care about their own kind," the android continued. "...let alone us. They lie and deceive. It's the only things human are any good for. Someday, she's going to get tired of you and she's just going to throw you away-"

There was something in his tone, in the passion in his voice, that made Connor wonder.

"Were you in love with a human?" Connor asked boldly.

Robert gawked at him, eyes wide and panicked.

"-and they replaced you?"

"NO!" Robert screamed, so suddenly and so sharply that it startled the human detective on the other side of the glass.

"I could never-" Robert insisted, slamming his fists on the table. "Never - never love a FILTHY human-" he babbled on. Robert looked defeated under Connor's scrutinizing gaze.

His head drooped and his forehead smacked against the table with a metallic thump. His nails scratched against the table and sobs shook his body.

Connor stared down at the android, realizing that this was no longer an interrogation. He expected his hunch to be wrong. Maybe it was, and Robert was hiding something that wasn't quite as simple as what it appeared to be at the surface.

The detective was prepared to push him for an answer to his first question; however, suddenly, Robert stuck his hand out and screamed, "JUST TAKE IT!"

The synthetic skin faded away and Connor took hold of his wrist without hesitation. As implied, all of his defenses were down. He quickly scrolled Robert's memory files and located the night in question, and backed them up hastily onto his own systems.

When he let go and looked at the android again, he was leaning up, resisting against his handcuffs. "We're their playthings," he insisted, face wet with thirium tears. "We're nothing to them. Nothing-"

Connor stood up so suddenly that his chair squeaked loudly against the floor. He pushed at Robert's shoulder to force him back into the chair. The android crumbled beneath his touch.

"Not all humans are like that," he proclaimed quietly.

The implication was clear.

Connor knew full well that lots of humans were the very thing Robert had feared.

His very first case was a deviant threatening to murder a little girl. He thought he was a member of the family, and he was going to be replaced. Connor would never forget his name, his voice pleading that he didn't want to die, the way he looked at him with betrayal as he bled out on the roof.

Connor had been beaten and used by humans. His whole purpose was to end the rebellion of machines rising up against their creators.

He knew what they were rising against, and it wasn't over yet.

But, he had seen the good in them, had felt the loving embrace of a friend, felt an encouraging presence push him along a better path, seen the worried eyes of someone who cared about him.

Humans, who had made androids, in a way, gave them the best of themselves.