#Noble Blood

[forest-hashira]

Noble Blood - Chapter Twelve

...well. i'm back. sorry for the long wait between chapters, i really didn't think there would be such a long break, but burnout + the holidays kicked my ass, so. y'know. but we're getting back on track! this is a shorter, more transitional chapter, but i'm hoping you guys can enjoy this nonetheless 💜

fic masterlist | read on ao3 | wc: ~4.3k | cw: gn reader, minor inner turmoil for reader, some harassment towards the end, kento's dad coming to the rescue

Your new life wanted you awake too early for your liking. Despite the fact that there was already sunlight shining through your window when you woke up, signaling that it was later than you usually slept, you felt like you could sleep for hours more and still be tired when you woke up. Just as you were beginning to consider the merits of rolling over and going back to sleep, your stomach made an almost horrifying growling noise. 

Food first, then. 

From her spot beside you on the bed, Takara grumbled softly, lifting her head and blinking at you, as if asking what you were doing and why you had woken her up. You offered her a small, apologetic smile and stroked the top of her head lightly with a finger.

“Sorry,” you said quietly. “We slept in a lot already, and we both need to eat. Let’s see if mom and dad saved us any breakfast.” You sat up, scooped her up carefully, then scooted your way off the bed, trying your best not to jostle her too badly. Despite your best efforts, she grumbled at you again, and once you were on your feet, she crawled onto your shoulder, draping herself around your neck with a huff, bumping your ear with her nose in the process.

Her actions made you smile, and once she was settled, you opened your bedroom door and stepped out. Your parents were sitting in the main room, in front of the fireplace, and when you stepped out of your room, all eyes were on you: your parents, who both smiled at you; Spark, who lifted his head from your mother’s lap; and Sparrow, who hopped gracefully off the mantle and made her way over to you, clearly the most curious about the new dragon in the house.

“Good morning,” your father greeted softly. “We decided to let you sleep in, since you don’t have lessons today.”

“Thank you,” you said, though your words were interrupted by a yawn as you made your way over to join them. They easily made space for you between them, where you settled with ease, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. “I’m still tired, though.”

“I’m sure you are,” he murmured, pressing a light kiss to the top of your head. Before anyone could say anything else, your stomach decided to repeat its absolutely inhuman noise from earlier. 

“I’ll make you some breakfast,” your father said with a smile, ruffling your hair playfully. “Stay here with your mother, I’ll bring you your food when it’s done.” 

You nodded, thanking him again as he walked to the kitchen to make you something to eat. Assuming that his dragon would follow him out of the room as she usually did, you were surprised to feel Sparrow’s feet on your leg as she tried to get closer to Takara. Your hatchling wasn’t very fond of her space being invaded, apparently, and she chittered at her in warning. When Sparrow didn’t seem to heed the warning, still trying to get as close as possible, Takara snapped at her. She didn’t make contact or draw blood, but it was enough to have your father’s dragon huffing and trotting off to the kitchen as you called a small apology after her.

Spark – presumably just as curious about Takara as Sparrow was, but having the good sense not to bother the hatchling – leaned a bit closer to you and sniffed the air, then rested his head back in your mother’s lap. You smiled at him, reaching over and stroking his nose lightly for a moment. It still felt a bit surreal to be in your own home, rather than still being at the gojo estate like you had been for the past week, but it was nice; you’d missed your bed, your parents, and their dragons more than you would’ve been able to imagine just a few weeks ago, but you knew now you’d never take them for granted again.

“Did you sleep well?” your mother asked, reaching over and righting a few wayward strands of hair. 

“Yes,” you answered, covering your mouth as you yawned yet again. “Yesterday was exhausting. I feel like I could go back to bed right now and sleep all day.”

She gave a small chuckle at your words. “Well, the good thing is that school hasn’t started again yet, so you still have some time to rest, if you really do want to spend the day catching up on sleep.”

“Speaking of school,” your father chimed in, coming back into the room with a plate of eggs and warm buttered bread for you, Sparrow perched on his shoulder. “Have you decided what you want to do about your academic studies going forward?”

“What do you mean?” You accepted the plate and chopsticks he offered you, your features pinched with confusion; you were still only half awake, and you couldn’t quite puzzle out what he was referring to.

“You asked Gojo-sama for time to decide whether you wanted to start attending academic lessons with Satoru-kun and Suguru-kun, remember?” your mother reminded you.

“Oh,” you murmured. “Yeah. I remember now.” For a few moments, you said nothing, thinking over your options as you ate the breakfast your father had made and offering your hatchling a few bites of your eggs. You’d gone back and forth for the last few days, weighing the pros and cons of each option, though what it really boiled down to was your friends; did you want to have more time to spend with the rest of your friend group – and potentially still be harassed by your less savory classmates – or would you rather have more time with Satoru and Suguru. In your heart, the answer had always been obvious, but you’d still hesitated, still walked through every reason you could think of for both options.

“I want to have my school lessons with Satoru and Suguru, too,” you said eventually, swallowing a mouthful of bread. Though you would never admit it to anyone else, you felt desperate for any amount of time you could spend with the boys, because ever since Suguru had arrived three years before and he and Satoru had started training together, you’d felt like they were slipping away from you – Satoru especially. The more the gap between you seemed to grow, and the closer the boys grew to each other, the more worried you got that you would never be able to catch up with them again, that they would slip away from you entirely. You didn’t know what you’d do if you lost your best friend to someone else, so any opportunity you had to keep him close, you were going to take.

There was a small part of you that felt guilty for that line of thinking, because Suguru was also your friend, and you knew he had a good heart, and that he never set out to hurt you or to try and “steal” Satoru from you, but deep down you were still terrified of Suguru replacing you as Satoru’s best friend. They’d been nothing but wonderful friends to you for the week you’d stayed at the estate, but you’d noticed every little moment and exchange between them that seemed almost like a second, silent language they’d developed in the three years they’d been living, studying, and training together; a language that was entirely foreign to you, but that you wanted desperately to learn, too.

“Alright then,” your father said, smiling reassuringly down at you. “We’ll get that settled with Gojo-sama later today, and when school begins again in a few days, you can start attending their classes with them.”

You nodded, a bit of tension bleeding from your shoulders at his support for your decision; not that you’d expected your parents to be upset with you, of course, but because it helped you feel like you really had made a good choice. You thanked him softly, then finished your breakfast in silence. 

By the time you’d finished eating, you were leaning against your mother more than just a little bit, and your eyelids were growing heavy with sleep once again. You rubbed your eyes as you fought back a yawn, and Takara shifted in her position draped around your neck. She chittered softly by your ear, and if you weren’t mistaken, she sounded just as tired as you were.

“Do the two of you want to go lay back down for a bit?” your mother asked, a soft, affectionate look in her eyes.

“Yes please,” you said around a yawn.

“Go ahead,” she encouraged. “We’ll wake you again in a bit for lunch.”

Mumbling a small thanks, you pushed yourself up from your spot on the floor, easily letting your father take your breakfast dishes from you before you made your way back to your bedroom. You shut the door behind you, then set Takara on your pillow for a moment while you fiddled with your curtains, wanting to block out as much daylight as you could. Once you were satisfied, you crawled back into your bed, and you were asleep again practically the moment your head hit your pillow

A few hours later, you woke to your mother brushing your hair from your eyes and gently calling your name. She was smiling down at you, perched lightly on the edge of your bed as she roused you. 

“Did I oversleep again?” you asked around a yawn, rubbing your eyes for a moment.

“No, it’s only been about an hour,” she assured you. “But if you want any hope of falling asleep at a normal hour tonight, you should probably get up now.”

You gave a small hum at her words, finally pushing yourself into a sitting position. Without even thinking about it, you instantly picked up Takara and held her in your lap, just having the weight of her in your hands satisfying some part of your mind; you wondered if it was the same for everyone when their dragons were still just sleepy hatchlings.

“Is there anything we need to do today?” you asked after a moment. “If I stay sitting here at home all day I might fall asleep again.”

Your comment drew a small chuckle from your mother. “Fair enough,” she conceded. “I’m working on a few pieces of clothing today, but I’m out of one of the fabrics I need. I was going to send your father to the store to see if there’s any in stock, or if we’ll need to order more. He’s always happy to have company, so if you ask to go with him, I’m sure he’ll say yes.”

The mention of your family’s fabric shop made you perk up a bit; you hadn’t spent much time there as you’d gotten older, and now that you had the most important dragon in the last three centuries, it seemed unlikely that you’d have much opportunity to do so going forward. Knowing that, you weren’t about to pass up an opportunity to spend some time there with your father, even if the shop would technically be closed when you were there.

Eager to confirm with your father that you could join him on his errand, you thanked your mother, then slid out of bed and hurried to the living room, where your father was sitting in front of the fireplace with a book. He looked up when he heard your footsteps, and he smiled brightly when he saw that you were awake again. 

“Hello, you two,” he greeted warmly. “Did you sleep well?”

You nodded, smiling back at him as you walked over. “Mom said she needs you to check the stock of some fabric at the store for her. Can Takara and I come with you?” you asked hopefully. 

As if trying to help convince your father, Takara lifted her head from where she laid curled up in your arms. Aiming her wide, emerald green eyes at him, she made a soft cooing noise. It wasn’t a common sound for dragons to make, but you recognized it as one that you’d heard Sparrow make once or twice, when she knew she was in trouble and was trying to appease your father when he grew upset with her; it was a soft, pleading noise, and one that you thought the dragons must generally find embarrassing or unbecoming, since you’d only ever heard one other dragon make it before in your whole life.

The sound had your father practically melting in his seat, though he did his best to maintain his composure. “Of course you can come,” he agreed easily. “I’ll get my keys and speak to your mother while you get dressed.”

A beaming grin brightened your expression at his words, and you enthusiastically thanked him before hurrying back to your room. You set Takara down for a few moments, letting her curl up on your pillow as you grabbed clothes to change into. Despite the sunshine that brightened your home right then, it was still winter, and living so close to the ocean often meant cold winds, regardless of the weather, so you grabbed what you knew would be best for the walk to your family’s shop: a grey long sleeve shirt – which upon putting on, you realized you would probably outgrow sooner rather than later – and a pair of warm black pants. At the last second, you also pulled on a pair of thick socks, made from a very soft, expensive woolen yarn – a material your father had managed to barter for a couple years before, in order to gift the yarn to your mother for the winter solstice.

Once you were dressed, you scooped Takara up once again and walked towards the front door, where your father was waiting for you, list in hand and Sparrow perched on his shoulder. “Would you like me to hold her for you while you put on your coat and your shoes?” he asked, nodding slightly towards your hatchling. 

You nodded gratefully, passing Takara to him before grabbing your boots. It wasn’t snowing outside, and hadn’t snowed significantly in a few days, but they were the only shoes you owned that didn’t have open toes, so on they went. As you fiddled with the laces, you heard Takara give the same little warning noise she’d given this morning, and you looked up to see Sparrow leaning down from your father’s shoulder to get a closer look at your hatchling, having apparently forgotten that that same hatchling had snapped at her earlier in the day. This time, though, she stayed out of range of Takara’s teeth, and eventually settled down on your father’s shoulder again, apparently satisfied with her investigation.

It didn’t take long after that for you to get your boots laced and tied and your coat buttoned up. You took Takara back from your father then, and held her at eye level for a moment. “Do you want to ride on my neck, or in my pocket?” you asked her. Then, realizing she almost certainly had no idea what any of those words meant, you asked again, this time a bit slower and pointing at the two places as you said the words.

Almost instantly, Takara began walking up your arm on wobbly legs, and you realized that she was trying to take her usual place draped around your neck.

“Alright,” you said, “I got it. Let me help you.” Carefully, you brought her to your neck, pulling the collar of your coat open a bit more to give her the space to make herself comfortable as she pleased. After you were sure she was settled, you looked up at your father. “We’re ready.”

Your father nodded, smiling a bit brighter. He turned to the door, turning the knob and pulling it open. “We’ll be back soon, my love!” he called out to your mother, then ushered you out the door.

For a moment, you squinted against the light, but all you could do was smile; the sun and wind on your face was refreshing, and just as you’d hoped, it served to wake you up even more. Walking alongside your father, you took in your surroundings with a newfound appreciation; not being able to leave the walls of the Gojo estate for a week had made you realize how much you missed the freedom to walk around and talk to people. It also made you feel even worse for your friends, being cooped up in the estate every day for the last three years, but you made up your mind to get them out as much as you could, regardless of what Gojo-sama thought.

For the first time since you were a small child, you found yourself dazzled by the settlement: the trees that lined the outskirts of the main town and nearly every walkway, even if most of them had few leaves still clinging to their branches; the homes with reinforced spots on their roofs because of years of dragons climbing on them; the cobblestones of the streets worn smooth by generations of footsteps and carts; the pristine shop faces around the square, despite the age of some of the buildings; even the sharp scent of salt that danced in on the winds the come off the ocean nearby felt precious to you, something to be savored and committed to memory.

Though it was midday by that point, there weren’t many people out and about, likely still recovering from the festival the night before; though you’d gone home with your parents somewhat early, you doubted that most other people had gone home before midnight, and that many people had likely had a great deal to drink in celebration of a metallic dragon now residing amongst them. 

You and your father made it to the shop – a smaller one, tucked in a far corner of the square – without encountering anyone else, and once your father unlocked the door, you stepped inside, a smile on your face. Being inside the shop had always felt calm, even when there were customers, but with just you and your father, it felt absolutely serene. As your father locked the door behind him, then set about looking for the fabrics on the list your mother had given him, you wandered about aimlessly, trailing your fingers over some of the softer fabrics. A dark green one in particular caught your eye, and you lingered on it for a moment. You’d never had a favorite color before, but ever since Gojo-hime had gifted you with green clothes, you’d found yourself growing more fond of it.

Maybe I could ask mom to make me something with that fabric, you thought to yourself; it was likely you’d need new clothes soon, anyways, so you couldn’t imagine she’d tell you no. 

A moment later, your father called your name, and you turned back to face him. There were two bolts of fabric in his arms, and you could see the corner of your mother’s list sticking out slightly from in between them. “I found most of what your mother needs, but I’ll have to get in contact with one of the merchants on the next island over to get the last fabric. Are you ready to go home?”

You were a bit disheartened to be leaving so quickly, but you nodded; you knew you’d be back with your mother when it came time for new clothes, so you did your best not to dwell on your disappointment. Since his arms were full, your father passed you the key, thanking you as you unlocked the door, then locked it again once the two of you were outside the shop. 

Just as you were pocketing the key, you heard someone walk up and start to make small talk with your father. You thought nothing of it, recognizing the voice as one of the regular customers to the shop, and they merely seemed curious about when the shop would be reopening again. When you stepped out from behind your father, though, the person paused for a moment.

“You’re the one with the metallic dragon,” they said, their tone somewhere between awestruck and nervous. 

“I am,” you confirmed. You couldn’t say you were necessarily surprised by the behavior, but you’d hoped it wouldn’t start right away when you started appearing in public again.

“That dragon of yours must be really special,” the person continued. “I didn’t get a good look at her at the festival yesterday. Any chance you could let me see her now?”

You hesitated, feeling a bit unsettled under their stare. “She’s at home,” you lied. “It’s too cold for her outside right now.” 

“I have a hard time believing that,” the person said, unconvinced. “Nobody goes anywhere without their dragon for the first few months. I just want a little peek, I’ve never gotten to see a metallic dragon in real life before.” 

Put off even further by the person’s intensity, you shifted back from them a bit. “Nobody had before last week,” you retorted, “because nobody’s seen a metallic dragon in three hundred years. It doesn’t mean you have to see one right now.”

Unfortunately for you, your snippy comment and slightly raised voice backfired, as it drew the attention of the few other people in the square, and they all began to make their way over.

“Is that the kid with the metallic dragon?” one man called out as he approached.

The person who addressed your father in the first place nodded, smiling wide. “Yes! They were just about to show me their dragon, too.”

Hearing those words, everyone else lit up, hurrying to gather around you, all of them jostling one another to try and get the closest to you, each of them eager to get the best look at your hatchling.

You felt yourself bristle at the blatant lie that had just been told, but before you could snap back a reply, the whole group was practically on top of you, invading your space much more than you ever could have anticipated; it wouldn’t have been a huge surprise to you if someone had tried to reach out and grab you in that moment. The rush of attention was even worse than being stared at by the entire settlement at the festival the night before; this felt more pointed, more invasive.

Thankfully, your father was good at picking up on your distress, and he did his absolute best to put himself between you and the gathered group. He was not a large man, though, and he could only protect you so much from the insistent crowd. Even Sparrow came to your defense, hissing and snapping at people when they pressed in closer, trying to drive them back, but it only resulted in her getting into a spitting match with someone else’s dragon. For once, Takara was silent in her hiding spot, but you could feel how fast her heart was beating against your neck, her distress both echoing and amplifying your own.

You put your hand in your pocket, clutching the key to the shop door tightly in your hand; if you needed to escape inside, you would, and it looked like it was going to come to that, despite your father’s best efforts to protect you and disperse the group of people. Each passing moment pressed you further and further into the door, and you had just begun to fumble with the lock when a familiar voice broke through the warring voices of your father and the near obsessive crowd pressing you back.

“That’s enough!” Kento’s father shouted, his footsteps approaching from across the square. His words carried across the open space easily, ringing out with an authority your father’s voice simply didn’t have. It was enough to startle the group into turning around, and when they saw Kento’s father – a tall, well-muscled man, noticeable even under the sweater he wore, and with real anger in his eyes – making his way towards him, they parted to make room for him.

“You should all be ashamed of yourselves, harassing a child,” he said, finally reaching the cluster of people. “Leave, right now. Find something better to do with your time, and think about this ridiculous behavior.” When the group seemed to hesitate, his gaze hardened even further. “Didn’t you hear me? I said. Go. Home.”

Apparently deciding not to challenge the hard look in his eyes, the crowd dispersed, most of the muttering unhappily under their breath. Kento’s father turned to you then, brows furrowed with concern. “Are the two of you alright?” he asked, voice much gentler than just a few moments before. “I’m sorry I didn’t step in sooner, I didn’t realize what was going on until Kokoro came to fetch me.”

Your father shook his head. “No need to apologize,” he promised. “We’re thankful you were here to help at all.” He turned and looked at you over his shoulder, frowning worriedly. “Are you okay?”

A moment of hesitation, then you nodded slowly; you still felt a bit shaken, yes, having not expected such intense focus on you and Takara, nor such intense disrespect of your boundaries, but you knew your father had done what he could to protect you, even if it wasn’t quite enough on its own. “Yes,” you said quietly. “I’m fine. Thank you, Nanami-san,” you added, looking over at your friends’ father; you really were grateful for his intervention, unsure how much the situation would’ve escalated without it. Then, after a beat, you looked back to your father and asked, voice small, “Can we go home now?”

He nodded immediately. “Of course, sweetheart. Let’s get back to your mother.”

Nodding back, you quickly fell into step beside him, staring down at the cobblestones as you walked, not wanting to risk drawing any extra attention to yourself. Having Kento’s father walking behind you, wordlessly escorting you home, helped soothe your fears, but it also solidified one thing in your mind: your life would never again be what it was, and that no longer felt like a good thing.

thank you guys for your patience with me, and thank you for sticking around and still reading this big au, i really can't express my appreciation enough 💜

taglist: @mitsuristoleme @redlikerozez @oceaneyesinla @pixelcafe-network @peachsukii 

@lemonloaves @hayatoseyepatch @alt--er--love

@dr-runs-with-scissors @benkeibear @witchbybirth @sugurei @peachdues 

@sootspritestar @gods-landing @lu-dao-writes @roselleviennesstuff @ambiguouslady42

join my taglist!

[thoughtportal]

When Annabella Millbanke had a daughter with her husband, Lord Byron, she was terrified that their child might inherit his poetical madness. And so she steered the girl, Ada, toward math and logic, where eventually, Ada Lovelace became obsessed with the potential of computers.

[haveyouheardthispodcast]

[the-wannabe-hero]

Been listening to a lot of Noble Blood lately. Can't help but notice a recurring theme.

[collectionofsinglefathers]

I don’t know how popular a podcast like Noble Blood might be on here, but I like it a lot (though I am CRIMINALLY behind on it at the moment).

I was on the way home, thinking about it because I had been thinking about the episode of Bloody Saint Olga of Kiev of both the Noble Blood podcast and Puppet History.

And because of the inspiration the story of Saint Olga had, it got me thinking of the backstory of my main OC and how it came about because of my enjoyment of Saint Olga. Basically in his backstory, I made him next in line for the throne after Saint Olga’s son (I can’t remember his name off the top of my head). Basically, say hypothetically he had died, and there were no other direct heirs, then my boy would’ve become the Grand Prince of Kyiv, similarly to how Victoria became Queen of England iirc.

Anyway, that never happened, for the obvious reason being that Olga’s son did live. But also, a lot of other dramatic stuff happened with my boy’s backstory that contributed to him “mysteriously disappearing”, at least as far as historians would be concerned, and occasionally, I will imagine what that story would be like in that world, as told by Dana Schwartz on the Noble Blood podcast. I might be biased because he’s my baby boy, but I’d like to think she’d cast him in a sympathetic light.

[corn-cardigan]

i am a d'arce miasma truther

also bonus tiny darce that was in one of my files?? idk what it was for but i'd like to share it to the class

[franticvampirereads]

I’m pretty sure these are in order:

Welcome to Night Vale

Lore

Noble Blood

Haunted Places

13 Days of Halloween season 1 (counting the seasons as individual podcasts because they don’t have overlapping storys)

Brimstone Valley Mall

The Bright Sessions

Desperado

The Magnus Archives

The Strange Case of Starship Iris

13 Days of Halloween season 2

Camp Here & There

Midnight Burger

Old Gods Of Appalachia

Care and Feeding of Werewolves

The Antique Shop

I’m not sure that there’s a common thread for all of them, but I hope this helps!

hello err fans of podcasts :3 im doing a project for school on fiction podcasts so..

if you could reblog this with all the podcasts you listened to in order (if you want to provide commentary as to why you went from one podcast to another (for example, the magnus archives to malevolent as a popular example->the eldritch horror) that'd be really useful! thanks :)

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

None of our hands are clean

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[art-from-within]

Sanguine noble Morgott and Night’s Cavalry man Mohg

Add:

[forest-hashira]

Noble Blood - Chapter Ten

...hi guys. long time no see... i promise i didn't mean to make you guys wait almost two months for an update, but. i survived a hurricane and got a new puppy among other Life Things in the meantime, so. you know. also i had to split this chapter yet again, so the events i thought would be contained in one chapter (ch8) now spans four whole chapters, which means more for you guys to read! so i hope that makes up for it.

also, going forward, satoru's mother will be referred to as "gojo-hime", with "-hime" being an honorific used for high ranking/noble ladies. i am aware that gojohime is also a ship, but that is not what i'm referring to in this fic! for clarification purposes it will always include the hyphen in between the name and the honorific. anyways, hope you guys enjoy!

fic masterlist | read on ao3 | wc: ~6.2k | cw: gender neutral reader, the beginning of the aftermath of finding reader's dragon, satoru's dad is once again a dick, light angst, some crying, brief moment of light violence, i think that's it!

You exchanged a baffled look with your friends at the sound of your mother’s rage, though for a moment none of you moved, unsure of what you should do. When the sound of your mother’s voice grew closer, though, her anger practically rattling the walls, you nearly toppled out of your seat in your rush to meet her.

“Ma’am, you can’t go that way without—”

“I will search every inch of this estate if I have to!” your mother interrupted, and you opened the door to the dining room just in time to see her turn on the staff that were attempting to stop her. Her hair was a mess, a bit tangled and clearly unbrushed as it fell around her shoulders. She still wore her robe, a small bit of the fabric of her pajamas peeking out at the neck; it was unclear if she’d slept fitfully the night before, or if she’d even slept at all, but even with signs of sleep draped over her, she was a force to be reckoned with.

“If you do not tell me where my child is right this instant I will tear this house apart, starting right here in the hallway. I’ll pull the floorboards up with my bare hands. What has that man done with my baby?”

The servants in the hallway stood frozen in place, more than one of them having gone pale faced at your mother’s rage, but what drove you to call out to her wasn’t pity, it was the ache in your chest that had been there since you’d been commanded to stay the night away from home.

“I’m here, mom,” you said, stepping out of the dining room, still clutching Takara to your chest. “I’m right here.”

The sound of your voice had your mother whirling around again, her eyes wide as she finally caught sight of you. “Oh thank god,” she choked out, closing the distance between you in just a few steps and falling to her knees before you. With tears in her eyes, she looked you over for any sign of injury, taking your face in her hands and tilting your head back and forth, her voice nearly frantic as she repeatedly asked “What happened? Did they do anything to you? Are you hurt?”

“Nobody did anything to me, I’m not hurt,” you told her, your own eyes filling with tears now that you were reunited with your mother. “I’m okay.”

Your mother seemed to relax a bit at your reassurances, but when Takara let out a small, curious noise from her spot in your arms, your mother startled a bit and looked down. When she caught sight of the creature in your hold, her eyes flew wide again.

“What—”

“She’s mine,” you said quietly. “Her name is Takara.”

As you spoke, Takara shifted slightly in your hold, resting her chin on the side of your hand and looking back up at your mother. She didn’t make a sound, though her emerald eyes remained unblinking all the while.

After another moment of staring at the hatchling in disbelief, your mother lifted her gaze to yours again, and her expression softened a bit. “She’s lovely,” she said quietly. “I told you you’d find your dragon soon, didn’t I?” 

You nodded at her words, but when one of her hands released your face to stroke your hair, you felt your bottom lip begin to tremble as tears filled your eyes. “Yeah,” you agreed. “You did.” You didn’t protest as she carefully wiped away the tear that slipped down your cheek, though she didn’t otherwise acknowledge that you were crying, which you appreciated.

The moment between the two of you came to an abrupt end when Kenji and Niji raced out of the dining room, squeezing themselves between you and your mother, both of them sniffing you all over until the boys called them back. Seeing your friends’ dragons made you realize that your mother’s was absent.

“Where’s Spark?” you asked, brows furrowed slightly.

“Your father made him stay home,” she replied. “He wasn’t handling my mood very well, and probably would’ve just made the situation worse.” She stood, pulling her hands away from your face in the process, and offered you a smile. Exhaustion was plain as day on her face, but it was clear she was trying to hide it for your sake, so you said nothing. 

“Now,” she said, reaching towards you once again, as if to guide you down the hall and out the front door. “We should be getting home, don’t you think?”

Before you could give so much as a nod in response, a familiar voice set your heart racing with anxiety.

“They won’t be going anywhere for the next week,” Gojo-sama said, stepping into the hallway from who knew what room in the house. Despite the early hour, he looked as composed as ever, dressed in clothes that you could tell from barely a glance were more expensive than your family could ever hope to own, his greying hair combed back from his face, not a single strand out of place. His hands were tucked into the sleeves of his shirt, and he wore a placid yet stern expression.

Upon noticing his presence, the servants bowed deeply, then rushed to get out of his way. The rest of you – dragons included – turned to face him, practically frozen in place as you waited for him to speak again. Before you’d had to face him in the dragon housing the night before, you’d never fully understood why people feared your best friend’s father the way they did. It was clear to you now, though; his mere presence was enough to have you shaking, authority and muted anger practically radiating from him.

“And why, exactly, is that?” your mother asked. She was completely rigid at your side, but her voice was steady, not betraying any hesitance or fear she might have been feeling. 

“Because the first week spent with a dragon after bonding with them is an incredibly delicate time, as I’m sure you’re aware,” Gojo-sama replied, his voice dripping with condescension. “And historically, that period is especially precarious and important for metallic dragons and their riders. It’s best to disturb them and their surroundings as little as possible. Which means they’ll both have to stay here for the time being, I’m afraid. They need someone to keep an eye on them, to make sure nothing is going wrong, and that the whole process is as smooth as possible.”

“Are you insinuating that I am not capable of caring for my own child? That our own home isn’t suitable for them and their dragon?” Your mother’s voice was sharper now, a hard edge you weren’t used to hearing from here, even when she was scolding you or disagreeing with your father.

“What if I am? Metallic dragons and their riders deserve the best of everything the world has to offer, and you and I both know which of our families is capable of providing that.” 

The smug expression he wore didn’t last long. Her anger finally seeming to win against her fear of the man, your mother stormed towards Satoru's father and slapped him across the face before anyone else had a chance to stop her. 

You, Satoru, and Suguru watched, wide-eyed, as your mother lifted her hand as if preparing to strike him again, but this time he caught her wrist.

His eyes burned as he glared at her. “I would advise against trying that again,” he growled, voice low and simmering with danger. “Your luck will not be so good a second time.”

“And I would advise you release me right this instant,” your mother bit back. “If you don’t I’ll scream so loud the whole settlement will hear, and I’ll tell every single person that you kidnapped my child. That wouldn’t be a very good look for you, now would it?”

Gojo-sama’s face flushed bright red all over, briefly disguising the handprint your mother had left on his cheek. Even from several feet back, you could see the fury in his cold eyes – the same blue as Satoru’s, but completely lacking the playful warmth – and he only seemed to tighten his grip on your mother’s wrist.

The silence that blanketed the hallway was deafening, no one even seeming to breathe as the stalemate between the two adults dragged on. Just when it seemed that Gojo-sama had decided he was going to exact some sort of punishment against your mother for her behavior, another person stepped into the hallway.

“Goshujin-sama,” the woman called out softly, and your eyes went wide when you realized who she was. With her pale skin and long white hair – an even purer white than Satoru’s, somehow – there was no mistaking the lady of the house; Satoru’s mother, Gojo-hime. You dared a glance over at Satoru, unsure what his reaction would be to seeing his mother intervene in this conflict, especially since you’d gotten the feeling that Satoru didn’t often see his mother, much less outside her bedroom. 

Apparently equally as shocked by the woman’s appearance, both your mother and Satoru’s father turned to look at her. Your mother’s eyes were wide, and for the first time since she’d arrived, she looked almost embarrassed over her behavior. If Gojo-sama harbored such feelings, he did a much better job of disguising them. 

“Gojo-fujin,” the man replied, his tone measured, almost cautious, as he looked over at his wife. “Are you feeling well? I’m sorry if our… unexpected guest has disturbed you at all.” His words earned him a scowl from your mother, though she offered no actual argument, most likely in respect of the woman before her.

“A servant came to fetch me when they noticed your disagreement,” Gojo-hime explained, carefully making her way over to her husband. “I know you both want what is best for the child and their dragon,” she added, placing a hand lightly on her husband’s shoulder once she reached his side. “But you have differing opinions on how to give them that.”

Her gentle gaze landed on her husband’s, and she offered him a smile. “Why don’t you and I discuss it in a bit?” she suggested. “In the meantime, you should let this kind woman return home. She was just worried about her child when they didn’t come home last night. Weren’t you?” 

The last two words were directed at your mother, and she quickly nodded. “Yes, I was,” she agreed. “But I can see now that no harm has come to them. So if you would be so gracious to allow me to return home without argument, Gojo-sama, I will go willingly. And I will only return if I am summoned by you or Gojo-hime.”

Gojo-sama returned his gaze to your mother, clearly not thrilled by the proposal. He also seemed hesitant to disagree with his wife, though you weren’t entirely sure why; Satoru had never mentioned seeing his parents be even remotely affectionate with each other, and you found it hard to believe the man could actually feel love for another person, based on the way he’d treated you since you’d been caught with a metallic hatchling in your arms.

Eventually, though, he let out a sigh, and reluctantly released your mother’s wrist. “Very well,” he said, words clipped. “We will send for you once we’ve reached a decision on how to proceed." His eyes drifted to you for a moment, and he added, “Do not linger longer than you have to.” 

With a nod, your mother was quick to turn away from the man and hurry back to you. She pulled you into a hug, holding you tightly to her chest for as long as she dared. It wasn’t long enough to soothe the ache in your chest, even when she dropped a kiss to the top of your head before she released you.

She turned back to the heads of the family, bowing low and murmuring, “Thank you, Gojo-hime, Gojo-sama,” before making her way down the hall. You understood why she didn’t look back at you again, but every step she took brought you closer to tears.

You startled slightly when a hand landed on your shoulder, but relaxed again when you saw that it was Satoru. More than anything, you wanted to turn and fall into him, to let your tears fall and let him comfort you the way you knew he would, but the humiliation of showing such emotion – which no doubt would be perceived as weakness – in front of Gojo-sama made you feel sick to your stomach. So, instead, you offered your friend a small nod of thanks.

When Gojo-hime called your name, her voice just as soft as before, you both turned back to face her. The smile she gave you was gentle, her eyes warm and kind as she really took in the sight of you. “Would it be okay if we talked for a bit?” she asked. “We can go back to my room, if you’d like. We’ll have more privacy.”

The words had barely left her lips before Satoru’s hand was falling from your shoulder. You were quick to look over at him, and what you saw broke your heart all over again; you’d never seen him look so defeated, apparently resigned to the fact that he was likely never going to get any quality time with his mother ever again, even if other people did. 

Standing on the other side of the snowy haired boy, Suguru caught your attention, his expression painted with a worried frown that mirrored your own. Without even needing to exchange any words, you knew that the two of you were in agreement about what needed to happen.

“Only if Satoru can come with me.” As you spoke, you turned to face your friend’s mother, trying to remain respectful even as you asserted yourself.

Gojo-hime’s sparkling eyes drifted to her son, and her expression softened even more around the edges. “Of course he can come,” she agreed. “I would hate to separate you from your friends.”

Her words had your ears perking up a bit in interest. “Suguru can come too, then?” you asked hopefully; it didn’t seem fair to leave the other boy on his own if you and Satoru were to be whisked away for who knew how long.

“Absolutely, as long as that’s what he wants.” Her eyes drifted from her son to the dark haired boy then, her serene expression never changing. 

Suguru was quick to nod in agreement, though he said nothing.

“Very well then,” Gojo-hime hummed, her gaze meeting yours once again. “You can all follow me.”

Though he barely moved, the woman squeezed her husband’s shoulder for a moment. “I’m more than capable of handling them on my own, goshujin-sama,” she told him. Her smile seemed a bit tighter as she spoke, her words almost too sweet when addressing the man.

Despite obviously being displeased by the unvoiced rejection, Gojo-sama made no attempt to argue, only sighed and nodded. “We will speak about this again later.”

“Of course we will.”

With one last glance at you, the Gojo family patriarch took his leave, heading down an adjacent hallway, heading off to a different part of the estate to… do whatever it was he did all day, you supposed.

“Shall we?” Gojo-hime said, smiling at the three of you and tilting her head slightly in the direction she had first come from.

Wordlessly, you nodded, adjusting your hold on Takara to where she was secure in one arm. Once your other hand was free, you reached out and took Satoru’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze before you started after the woman. There was a small sound of surprise from your friends behind you, but they quickly fell into step, Kenji and Niji taking up the rear of your little parade. At one point you glanced over your shoulder to see how the boys were feeling about the situation, and you noticed that Satoru’s other hand was gripping Suguru’s; for some reason seeing that made your heart give a little flip.

Soon enough, Gojo-hime came to a stop in front of a wooden door, delicately carved with what appeared to be cranes and lotus flowers. She turned the knob and pushed it open, then turned to the three of you and ushered you into the room first, only stepping inside herself and closing the door once again once Kenji and Niji had cleared the threshold. 

“Please, sit,” she encouraged, her smile never once leaving her face. “Wherever you’re most comfortable is fine, I don’t mind.”

The three of you sat down on some large floor cushions, all of them somehow both softer and more solid than you had expected. Once you were all settled, you realized you had wound up in between the boys, and for that you were privately relieved; having them on either side of you made you feel more secure. Kenji and Niji settled beside their respective masters, heads in their laps, eyes focused on Takara, where she now laid curled up in your own lap.

“Now, I know you’ve just had breakfast,” Satoru’s mother continued, “but would any of you like something to drink? Any tea, or anything like that?” When all three of you shook your heads, she settled down on her own cushion a few feet away, facing you. She spent a few moments in silence, apparently just taking all three of you in.

Feeling a bit uncomfortable under the weight of her gaze, no matter how kind, you allowed yourself to glance around the room. Despite the fact that the sun had risen a few hours before, the room was very dimly lit, the windows covered with heavy curtains, and the screens in the shoji door at the opposite end of the room seemed thicker than you were used to, not letting in as much light as the rest of the shoji doors in the rest of the house. You couldn’t help but wonder if the low lighting was because of her headaches. Satoru had told you before that, when he had his headaches, almost any amount of light felt like daggers in his eyes; maybe it was the same for his mother.

“I’m sorry you couldn’t go home with your mother.”

The words nearly made you jump with how quickly they drew you from your thoughts, and it took you a moment to realize they were directed at you.

“I’ll do my best to get you home to your parents as soon as possible,” Satoru’s mother promised. “But in the meantime, I’m glad to see that the clothes I sent for you this morning fit you.”

You nodded dumbly at her words, glancing down at your shirt. Seeing its color again had a question spilling from you before you could stop it. “Who do these clothes belong to? Satoru and Suguru don’t wear colors like this.”

Her expression grew sad at your enquiry and she dropped your gaze, though her smile remained intact. “I had a lot of clothes made when Satoru was very young,” she explained softly. “I… I had hoped for a long time that I would be able to have another baby, but it never happened.”

She met your eyes again with a small, bittersweet laugh. “But I accepted that years ago. I’m just glad the clothes won’t have to waste away in boxes anymore.”

Your throat felt tight as you listened to her speak, having not expected such an answer from her. It seemed almost miraculous that she could still be so kind after a hurt like that, and you were glad that she was so kind, so gentle, even if nobody would have blamed her if she’d grown bitter instead.

Maybe, you thought to yourself, she needs somewhere for all her love to go.

“Thank you,” you managed after a moment, blinking rapidly to keep from crying over what she had shared with you. “They’re very nice clothes, and I promise to take good care of them.”

“I wouldn’t be upset even if you destroyed them,” she assured you, then looked over at her son. “Satoru knows. He ruined more of his clothes when he was small than he would probably care to admit.”

When you turned to Satoru, you weren’t all that surprised to find he’d gone bright red, mumbling something under his breath about how it wasn’t his fault expensive clothes weren’t good to play in. The sight made you giggle, and you heard a soft chuckle from Suguru and another quiet, melodic laugh from Gojo-hime. With a groan, Satoru covered his face with his hands and flopped backwards, trying to escape the spotlight in any way he could.

Apparently deciding to have some mercy on her only child, Gojo-hime called your name again, waiting until your attention was back on her to speak again. “I really would like to know how you’re feeling about all this, and how you want to handle it.”

Your smile slipped at her words, and you took a moment to really consider what she was asking you. How did you feel? You weren’t really sure. Everything had happened so fast, you weren’t even entirely sure you’d processed all of it.

“Well,” you began tentatively. “It still doesn’t feel completely real, honestly. I mean… I’ve been waiting so long to meet my dragon, I guess I just kind of stopped thinking I ever would?” Your gaze dropped to Takara, who was already looking up at you, completely still except for her breathing. The corner of your lips twitched in the tiniest hint of a smile, and you stroked the top of her head lightly with a fingertip.

“I’m thrilled to finally have my dragon, of course, but… I just don’t understand why I’m the only person to bond with a metallic dragon in so long.” Your voice grew quieter and quieter as you spoke, until your words were barely above a whisper. “Why me? What makes me more special than anyone else? I’m not even from one of the big clans.”

You lifted your head to meet Gojo-hime’s gaze yet again; though her eyes were so much darker than Satoru’s, you could see the same warmth in them, the same openness. Despite your best efforts, you felt tears spring to your eyes once more. “Why did it have to be me? I never wanted to be anything special. I just wanted to meet my dragon and go back to how things were, living at home with my parents and spending time with my friends. I didn’t want to be anyone important, I just wanted to be me.”

By the time you finished speaking, your vision was completely blurred over and tears were pouring down your cheeks. Your breathing turned shallower, more like hiccups than regular breathing, and when you felt two sets of arms wrap around you, two warm, steady presences holding you between them, you only began to cry harder. Everything you’d kept bottled up, even beyond the previous day’s events, came pouring out of you, and you were powerless to stop it at all.

The feeling of two soft, slender hands cradling your cheeks caused you to finally lift your head from where it had fallen against Satoru’s shoulder, and you sniffled weakly as Gojo-hime carefully wiped your tears away.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she cooed, thumbs stroking lightly over your cheekbones. “You were always going to be important. Everyone is important in their own way.”

“But some people are really important,” you replied quietly, still trying to quell your tears.

She only shook her head at you. “Everyone is equally important, okay? Everyone. I’m not more important than the three of you, or more important than any of the staff that work here at the estate. None of us can do what we do without each other.”

You were silent for a moment, but eventually you gave a small nod. “Okay…” you whispered. Sniffling again, you let yourself lean into her touch, your eyes fluttering shut as she continued to wipe your tears away.

“I don’t know why it was you,” she continued after a moment. “I wish I had an answer for that, but I don’t. But I do know that you’re going to do great things. Whatever reason you were chosen for, no matter what it is, you will be more than capable of living up to it.”

“How do you know that?”

Gojo-hime just smiled at you, her genuine affection for you spilling out in her words. “Because you won’t have to do it alone. The people who love you will help you through it all.”

You wanted to ask how she could be so sure, ask her why she was so confident that you would eventually be able to do whatever needed to be done, but you didn’t want to argue. Knowing she had faith in you was enough for the moment, and you nodded slightly, allowing her words to reassure you, at least for the time being.

Once she was convinced you believed her, Gojo-hime pulled her hands from your cheeks, moving back to her seat. She allowed you a moment to compose yourself and wipe the few remaining tears from your face before she changed subjects a bit.

“How do you want to handle this, sweetheart?” she asked. “I can’t guarantee that I’ll be able to convince my husband to agree to everything, but if I know where to start, it will be a bit easier to get him to compromise.”

“I want to go home,” you answered, almost before she finished speaking. “I miss my parents, and I want to go home. As soon as possible.”

“Of course. It’s clear that your mother wants you back home as soon as possible, too, so I will do my best to make that happen. Anything else?”

Knowing she would sit patiently and wait for however long it took for you to come up with an answer did a great deal to ease your mind, and took off the pressure to already know exactly what you wanted. “I think�� it would probably be good for me to train with Yaga-sensei. My parents will help me as much as they can, I know, but… metallic dragons don’t show up for no reason, right? And I need to be as prepared as possible for whatever is coming.”

Hearing yourself say those words aloud was almost surreal; it was a mature take on the situation, a logical next step, but you weren’t ready to be mature like that yet. You wanted to be a kid for a little while longer, to spend time with your friends without responsibilities for another year or two, but that clearly was no longer in the cards for you. Growing up was coming sooner rather than later.

You spent a bit longer considering what you wanted and telling Gojo-hime those things as you decided them. She’d said she probably wouldn’t be able to get you everything you wanted, but she had promised to try her best, so you had hope. It was hard to gauge exactly how long you’d spent in the room, due to the reduced amount of light, but it felt like you’d been there for ages. Not in a bad way, though; being around Gojo-hime with your friends beside you and your dragon in your lap was rather peaceful, actually, even if the situation wasn’t ideal. 

When you finally felt you had covered all your bases, you glanced over at Satoru, the smile he offered you doing wonders to boost your confidence that you’d done well. Suguru wore a smile for you, too, when you turned and looked at him. Though his smile was a bit softer than Satoru’s, it was no less encouraging, and you felt the last bit of tension bleed from your shoulders.

“Thank you, Gojo-hime,” you said, turning back to face the woman. “I feel a lot better now that I’ve gotten to talk it out a bit.”

“You’re very welcome, sweetheart. I know this is a lot, and I wanted to give you an opportunity to take it in.” She hadn’t said anything about it in all the time you and your friends had been in the room with her, but you could tell how tired she was. “I won’t keep you here any longer, though. You can go if you’re ready.”

You nodded, picking Takara up with one hand and carefully standing from your seat. The hatchling shifted in your hold, making a small mumbling noise before falling back asleep. You could hear your friends standing from their seats just behind you, and you bowed to the Gojo matriarch as you thanked her once again.

She waved you off with a quiet laugh. “There’s no need for those kinds of formalities when Gojo-sama isn’t around,” she promised. 

A bit embarrassed, you nodded, then turned with the boys to leave the room and give Gojo-hime a chance to rest. You turned back almost instantly though, a question you were eager to have answered jumping to the front of your mind. “Where is your dragon?” you asked curiously. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with a dragon before.”

Her expression brightened a bit as she answered, “Oh, she stays in one of the housing buildings on the other side of the estate. You met her last night.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion. “I did?”

“You did,” she confirmed. “Takara is her daughter.”

Eyes flying wide with shock, you blinked dumbly a few times, before uttering a very intelligent, “Oh.” 

Your response drew another soft laugh from the woman’s lips, though it was clear she wasn’t making fun of you. “Funny how those things work out sometimes, hm?” she mused, then pushed herself to her feet.

“Yeah,” you agreed quietly, once again turning to give Gojo-hime her space back. Before you’d taken more than just a couple of steps, though, you heard her voice call out again.

“Satoru, could you come here for a moment, please?”

Pausing, you exchanged a look with your best friend, only continuing on when he gave you a nod. Suguru opened the door, and you stepped out into the hallway, Suguru and Niji close behind. You turned back towards the room as Suguru pulled the door closed behind himself, and in the crack of the open doorway, you caught a glimpse of Satoru hugging his mother tightly, her arms wrapped around him as she pressed a kiss to the top of his head. You were quick to look away, not wanting to intrude on such a private moment.

The next day, after what you could only assume was a very long discussion with his wife, Gojo-sama summoned your mother back to the estate to discuss his proposal for your life going forward; thankfully you were in the room for the discussion, too. Gojo-hime had been right when she’d told you her husband wouldn’t agree to everything you’d asked for, but he had conceded to more than you had thought.

“Your child will stay here at the estate for the remainder of the bonding period, but after that they can return home with you for a while. Once their dragon is big enough to begin training under Yaga, they will live here for most of the week, but will be allowed to return home to you and your husband a day or two each week.”

“That is not acceptable,” your mother was quick to interrupt, already beginning to scowl at Satoru’s father.

“Which part specifically?” he asked, already looking a bit exasperated with the whole situation. 

“Expecting my child to live away from me most of the week for the foreseeable future. I won’t stand for it.” As stubborn as your mother was, you knew that this was one thing she would not allow Gojo-sama to deny her.

He let out a long sigh through his nose, closing his eyes for a moment as he asked, “What would you suggest as an alternative, then? Because it was your child’s idea to train with Yaga in the first place, and I doubt you want to deny them that opportunity any more than I do.”

Apparently a bit surprised that you were the one who had suggested training at the estate, your mother glanced at you briefly before returning her attention to the man before you. “I want them home every night for dinner and to sleep in their own bed,” she said. “They can be here during the day for training, and even for academic lessons, if that’s something they want, but they will be home to eat dinner with myself and my husband every evening, without exception, and will get to sleep in their own bed overnight.”

For a long moment – one that seemed to stretch on for hours rather than seconds – the two adults stared each other down, neither of them apparently willing to back down on the subject. The apparent stalemate they were in made you worry; what would your mother do if Gojo-sama told her no? And what would Gojo-sama do if your mother caused a scene? You were fairly certain you didn’t want to know.

Eventually, the man seemed to resign himself to the fact that this was not an argument he was willing to have, at least not right that second. “Fine,” he huffed. “They will spend their days here, and evenings at home with you.” He turned his attention to you, then continued. “Do you want to attend academic lessons with Satoru and Geto-kun?”

It rubbed you the wrong way that he didn’t refer to Suguru by his first name, even after the boy had been living in his house for nearly three years, but at the same time you were more than a little glad there was no apparent sense of familiarity between them. “…May I have some time to consider it?” you asked after a moment, hoping he would agree, because really, you didn’t know what you wanted just then. You felt your shoulders sag slightly with relief when he gave you a short nod before returning his attention to your mother.

“Once the bonding period has come to an end and the festival is over, I will see them escorted home to you. Are those terms satisfactory?”

“Festival?” you and your mother parroted together. Nothing had been said to you about a festival, so you were beyond confused.

“Yes, the festival,” Gojo-sama confirmed. “There has always been an elaborate celebration held when a metallic dragon appears and bonds with a human.”

“But nobody said anything about—” you began, but were swiftly cut off.

“And I apologize for that,” the man said, looking at you once again with his cold blue eyes. “But the whole celebration is non negotiable, I’m afraid. It is going to happen after your bonding period is over. That is final.”

His tone left no room for argument, and you felt your words of protest die in your throat. Tears burned your eyes as you nodded, whispering a small, “Yes, Gojo-sama,” as you dropped your gaze to your lap, where Takara lay curled up and sound asleep. The rest of the conversation between the two adults faded to background noise as you fought not to cry; you knew your mother would fill you in later on anything you missed or didn’t understand. 

When the two of you were finally dismissed, all you felt was relief. You kept your head down as you stood from where you’d been kneeling on the floor and followed your mother out of the room. She stopped once she heard the door shut behind the two of you, turning to face you in an instant and pulling you close, though she was careful not to crush Takara between you.

Unable to hold back any longer, you cried into your mother’s shirt, hiccuping nearly nonsensical statements about how you didn’t want to be the center of attention, didn’t want to be the reason for a festival; about how you wanted to go home and be with her and your father because you missed them.

“I know, baby. I know,” your mother soothed, rubbing your back and resting her cheek atop your head. “It’s all going to be just fine, though, I promise. Everything will be over and you’ll be back home before you even know it.”

“But it feels like so long,” you wept, words muffled by fabric since you didn’t bother to lift your head from her chest. “I feel like I’ve already been here forever.”

“It’s just a few more days though,” she assured you. “And besides, you have your friends here with you to pass the time. You’re going to be alright.”

“Do you promise?” you asked, finally peeking up from her chest. 

“Yes,” she murmured, kissing your forehead. “I promise.”

ok so, while i am in the process of learning japanese currently, i am by no means fluent, so the titles/honorifics that satoru's parents use for each other are based on some research i did! honorifics are confusing so i think i used them correctly, if not please don't skin me. also they are intentionally kind of archaic/ obsolete/overly formal, to fit with the traditions and dynamics of the family and the semi-historical setting of the fic.

taglist: @mitsuristoleme @redlikerozez @oceaneyesinla

@dr-runs-with-scissors @entirelysein-e @witchbybirth @sugurei @peachdues 

@whatthefucksatan @gods-landing @lu-dao-writes @roselleviennesstuff

join my taglist!

[polnapietruszka]

[justaz]

merlin told arthur his favorite color was the color of the sky during sunset when it shifted into a deep violet. arthur gets a tunic made in that exact shade. its the best thing merlin owns. arthur was hoping that would mean he’d wear it almost everyday but merlin almost never wears it. the only time he does wear it is when royals come to visit (which isn’t all that often). arthur “subtly” asks about it and merlin is like “it’s the best thing i own. i’m not gonna dirty it mucking out the stables or serving rowdy knights wine while they splatter food on it” and arthur is like “why not wear it when nobles come to visit? look at least a little presentable for them” (cough nice save). merlin doesn’t see the point in it bc nobles don’t care about him at best, view him as less than human at worst.

arthur really just wants to see his boyfriend servant in the tunic he had made for him (bonus points for sending a message that merlin is his. not that merlin seems to notice. man is too much of an idiot). merlin wants to preserve his favorite tunic and gift from his boyfriend king.

[visenyaism]

one thing about my taste in media is that i really do love hypocritical self-destructive deeply problematic bitches in fiction. hotties who sow the seeds of their own doom etc

[obsessedanddepressed]

So she finally got to do that right? With Fourteen? Like this is a thing they do now right??

(Donna and the 10th Doctor in "In the Blood" by Jenny T Colgan)

[alecto-class-nhp-nue]

I love how most of the tumblr lancer tag is now just karrakin nobles arguing with each other, it makes me want to infest all of their mechs with kobold liturgicode 💜