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dream-a-little-bigger-x · 1 year ago

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I Think He Knows | Spencer Reid

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: JJ invites her best friend, a linguistics professor, to help out on a couple of cases. When she and Spencer work together, something sparks between them.

Warnings: Your usual Criminal Minds murders and gore, inappropriate thoughts and conversations about coworkers, making out, plot holes (read author's note),

Author's note: I know Season 4, Episode 12 is without JJ, but let's pretend JJ is there anyway and Jordan has never been there, okay? Okay. Thank yew.

Words: 4.3K

“I think he knows.”

JJ’s brows furrowed as she looked at her best friend, back pressed against the shut door of her office. It took her one look at the wide-eyed, worry-filled girl to know just what the hell she was even talking about.

Everything had started when JJ introduced her to the team.

JJ and y/n had been childhood best friends and kept in contact, even when both of them moved away from Pennsylvania. While JJ moved to Washington DC to join the FBI, y/n was making her career as a linguistics professor in New York City. So, when they needed a linguistic expert, y/n was the first one JJ called for her expertise.

“Thank you so much for coming,” JJ said as she embraced her oldest friend.

A smile resided on her face. “Of course, Jayj. Anything for you.”

“Come, meet the team!”

JJ grabbed y/n’s hand and dragged her towards the bullpen. Everyone seemed to be gathered around one particular desk, hunched over a case file.

“Guys, I want you to meet y/n, she’s gonna help us with linguistics,” JJ said, capturing everyone’s attention. “y/n/n, these are Derek Morgan, Emily Prentiss, Aaron Hotchner, David Rossi, Penelope Garcia and Spencer Reid.” She introduced them, pointing at each member of the team as their name was called.

Y/N simply offered all of them an awkward wave, suddenly self-conscious about the attention she was getting. “Luckily, I’m good with names,” she chuckled, which made the others laugh too.

The eight of them filed into the briefing room where JJ explained the case to everyone. Luckily – if you could use that word in this field – it was a local case, meaning y/n could stay with JJ for the time being. The two women were actually quite excited about that.

This one seemed to be a pretty open-and-shut case. An abduction of a politician's daughter with a ransom note that led the team straight to the Unsub. Spencer and y/n worked on the note together, both of them quickly noticing some outstanding quirks of the guy’s personality.

“First and foremost, I can tell you that the guy you’re looking for is actually a guy,” y/n started explaining to the team when they had regrouped. “He uses a lot of articles, prepositions and big words. So, we are looking in the right direction.”

Spencer nodded his head in agreement. “He’s also very precise in his choice of words, so he’s most likely an introvert. He tells us exactly where to be and at what time, something an extrovert wouldn’t do.”

“He’s also using ‘I’ and ‘mine’, which further proves the introverted side of this UnSub. Normally, higher rates of ‘I’ words correspond with feelings of insecurity, threat and defensiveness. Closer inspection of his ‘I’ use in context tends to confirm this,” y/n continued, seamlessly flowing with Spencer in their debrief.

“Not only that, but the number of words such as ‘except’, ‘but’, and ‘however’ changed. These are all ways to encourage dialogue or thinking and indicate higher cognitive processes. They also signify a willingness to tell the truth,” said Spencer.

The two of them glanced at each other and offered a smile before turning to the rest of the team, who were looking at them as though they had just witnessed a talking dog.

“It’s like they’re copy-pasted,” Emily muttered.

Y/N felt her cheeks heat up and when she looked over at her partner-in-solving-linguistics-psyche, his cheeks had a dust of rouge. Before either of them could add anything else, Hotch nodded his head before scraping his chair back.

“We’re ready to give a profile. Let’s head down to the Metropolitan Police Department,” he ordered and everyone quickly followed. Even y/n. With the research she and Spencer had done, they were their best options to go over the profile with the detectives.

It felt great to be doing such important work, especially when her analysis helped catch the guy in the end. Even better when JJ had asked her to come back on another case, needing her language expertise again.

Every time, she and Spencer worked closely together to try and analyze any sort of text that had been brought up during the case. Whether it was newspaper ads, ransom notes or blog posts. Nothing was too hard for the duo.

The fifth time they asked her, it was a bit more of a difficult case.

When she had walked into the BAU that morning of the fifth case, her breath had hitched in her throat. She couldn’t deny that she found the young doctor very attractive, but there was something about him that morning with his hair slicked back and the patterned button-down and his perpetually crooked tie.

“Morning,” Spencer greeted with a beautiful smile that had her knees buckle.

She grimaced, trying to keep herself composed, but it was proving to be a lot more difficult that day. “Good morning,” she greeted back. Her brain decided she needed him to feel the same way she did. “You look good this morning, Doc.”

When the resident genius blushed furiously, she knew she had succeeded. He awkwardly coughed whilst his lips quirked up into a shy smile. “Th-thank you, y/n. So–so do you.”

“Thanks.” Her eyes stayed glued on his, something unspoken passing between the two when the rest of the team entered the bullpen.

JJ, being y/n’s best friend, immediately caught onto what was happening between the two. But, with the task at hand, she decided not to say anything. Yet.

Though y/n knew that she knew.

JJ always knew.

For this case, the team flew to Sarasota in Florida and y/n was allowed to come along. Once everyone was briefed about the case, they all piled onto the jet where y/n took her trusty spot next to JJ. While she was reading over the case file again, she couldn’t help but sneak glances at Spencer, who was sitting on the other side of the plane.

Sometimes, their gazes would meet and they’d turn away quickly, like two teenagers who were crushing on one another.

“Okay, what’s going on between you two?” JJ asked softly, not wanting the coworker in question to hear her.

Y/N furrowed her brows, barely taking her eyes off the file, even though they involuntarily flitted back towards the youngest on the team. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Jayj.”

“You and Spence. You can’t lie to me, y/n/n. You’re acting the exact same way you did when you had that crush on Landon during our senior year.”

A soft gasp left y/n’s mouth. “I forgot about Landon,” she whispered, giggling at the memory of her constant gushing over the boy. It took her a good four months of swooning over him before he finally asked her out.

JJ’s eyebrows rose in question, impatiently so.

“Okay, I’m not gonna lie that I find him attractive,” y/n admitted, but it wasn’t enough for her best friend. “Fine,” she grumbled, then sighed, admitting defeat. “I–” but before she got go off on a tirade, Penelope appeared on the laptop screen, wanting to let them know what she had found.

“This is not over,” JJ warned as the team descended the jet afterwards.

The Sarasota Police Department had a suspect in custody, but not enough evidence to keep him for more than forty-eight hours, so they were on a clock. The team worked tirelessly, trying to piece together the evidence. While the others went to the crime scenes, the suspect’s house or the ME, Garcia had found a blog post on the guy’s computer, which Spencer and y/n were now decoding together.

“Look,” y/n said, pointing to a paragraph on the printed copy of the blog post. “He switches between the words ‘soda’ and ‘pop’.”

His shoulder brushed against hers as he leaned over to look at the paper she was pointing at. The feeling of his body being so close to hers caused her to heat up from the inside out. Her bodily reaction told her she wanted more of him. She wanted him to be this close at all times.

“This is not just one person,” he mumbled, then pointed to another paragraph. “Not one person ever uses dashes and ellipses in the same text, right?”

Y/N nodded. “Yeah, you’re right,” she said. “Ellipses and dashes are not interchangeable, but the misuse of either and both is common. A dash is a highlighter. An ellipsis takes the place of missing words. Not one person ever uses both in texts.”

“Hey, lovebirds,” Morgan’s voice interrupted them, even startling y/n a little.

She had been too wrapped up in her own world, she hadn’t even noticed Morgan and Rossi walking in with the Sheriff by their side.

“You found anything?” asked Rossi, unable to hide the smirk underneath his mustache.

Spencer nodded his head before taking a step back from y/n. “Garcia’s been digging through William’s computer. She found an encrypted link to a web page.”

“Where’d it take you?” Derek questioned.

Y/N put the lid back on her red Sharpie before sticking it in her ponytail, wedging it between the hairband and the crown of her head. “An unsearchable, untraceable blog with tons of journal entries. It’s like some sort of diary.”

“You find anything incriminating?” Rossi asked.

“We were able to differentiate between two distinct voices. Two authors,” Spencer started explaining and y/n couldn’t but gawk at him, intrigued by what he was saying even though she already knew. “We found various idiosyncratic words, phrases, punctuation and orthography within the blog entries, consistent with each separate person.”

“Words like “soda” and “pop”,” y/n added.

Nodding, Spencer added with a smile, “One guy uses dashes while the other uses ellipses.” The giggle at the end of his sentence made y/n’s stomach flutter.

Spencer being so interested in the English language had to have been the cutest thing she had ever seen. It made her heart skip a beat and her spine tingle all the way to her toes. “That was hot,” she muttered, her eyes widening upon realizing the words didn’t stay in her mind.

Luckily, Spencer had already returned to the board and Rossi was too busy talking to the Sheriff to have heard it. The only person, much to y/n’s dismay, that did hear it, was Derek Morgan. With that devilish smirk of his plastered on his face he was looking down at her.

She coughed and turned back to the rest of the team. “One side of the discourse made reference to the “devil’s strip”,” she explained before Derek could start his relentless teasing.

“What the hell’s that?” asked the Sheriff.

At that moment, Spencer turned around again, not realizing y/n had moved and nearly bumped into her. Instead of stepping back, though, he remained in his spot with his chest pressed against her back. It sent yet another shiver down her spine, which required y/n to breathe in deep before she lost control and jumped his bones then and there.

“It’s a small patch of grass that separates the sidewalk from the street. Now, that term is only used in central Ohio. William lived in Atlanta for twenty years, but he grew up in Columbus,” Spencer explained.

In agreement, y/n hummed. “The other guy uses words like “turnpike” and “filling the gas tank”, both specific regionalisms for Florida,” she continued just as one of the deputies passed by with William in handcuffs.

Derek looked back at the suspect before turning to the linguistics duo. “Kid, you sure about this?” he asked Spencer, which merely earned him a slight tilt of the head and a deadpanned glare that said ‘seriously?’.

Of course Spencer and y/n were sure about this and Derek knew better than to doubt that.

While Morgan and Rossi went to question William about what they found, Spencer and y/n continued working on the blog. After a good hour, y/n decided to go and get them both some coffee, needing the pick-me-up to keep herself going.

“Here,” she muttered, handing the cup to him. “With three spoonfuls of sugar.” She then pouted, “They didn’t have almond milk.”

Spencer chuckled before reaching in his satchel and handing her a carton of almond milk. Surprised, y/n added a cloud of the milk into her coffee, ignoring how her heart was soaring.

She smiled a thankful smile and took a sip of the hot beverage as the two of them turned back to the splayed out blog posts on the board in front of them.

“Wait,” he then mumbled with his brows furrowed. “Where’s the–” he stopped in his tracks when his eyes fell on the item he was looking for.

Gazing up at him, y/n’s heart quickened when he reached for her head and fished the red Sharpie out of her hair. “Right, sorry,” she whispered, nearly swooning at the soft smile on his face.

She watched as Spencer started adding lines and annotating a paragraph of the blog post. As she followed what he was doing, her brain started to form theories and analytics. “Faith should never be broken,” she read aloud, then wiggled her nose in thought. “The longer they got away with it, the stronger their relationship,” she pointed out.

Within the next few hours, Derek came to check on the two of them, wanting to know if they had gotten any further into finding out who William’s partner was. Then, later, the whole team had gathered again to brief one another on their findings.

“Connie Mayers described an Anger Excitation Rapist, just like William,” Emily told them.

“So, we’re looking at two dominant personalities?” asked Derek.

Y/N nodded her head as the words registered in her brain. “That makes sense,” she said. “They have a similar discourse.” Spencer nodded his head as well, agreeingly.

“They’re equally well-written,” he added.

“That’s a big deal?” the Sheriff wanted to know.

Spencer’s eyes skidded from the Sheriff to y/n and back as he said, “It’s rare in criminal partnerships.”

“If their personalities are the same, their lives probably mirror one another’s as well,” Emily clarified.

As the Sheriff spoke, y/n went to sit on the desk in front of Spencer, needing to give her feet a rest. “Harris goes to church, on the board of the PTA, coaches his daughter’s soccer team, rarely drinks.”

“Sounds like a saint,” JJ commented with a roll of her eyes.

“With a dark side,” Hotch offered. “It’s what he connected to in the partner.” He then nodded to Emily. “Prentiss and I will go talk to the family, see if they know who it might be.” Hotch and Emily exited the precinct, leaving the rest of the team to their own projects.

Derek sighed as he moved closer towards the board. “Two alpha males won’t be easy to break,” he pointed out.

“The partner is definitely following the investigation,” JJ added with a determined nod.

“Let’s do the talking for them,” Rossi suggested.

“You want me to put this out in the public?” asked the blonde.

Rossi held up the bundle of papers that contained the blog posts. “We’ve got something better.”

“Why would he read it?” the Sheriff wanted to know. “He knows William won’t be writing.”

“These men are addicted to each other,” Derek argued. “Right now, he needs a fix, and the words they’ve shared are all he has to cling to.”

Y/N climbed off the desk again as an idea popped into her head. “His partner wrote “Faith should never be broken”. A betrayal could devastate him.”

“All we have to say is that William’s cooperating, and then hope he takes the bait,” Derek said.

Nodding their heads in agreement, Spencer and y/n gathered in front of the laptop. “You should do the typing,” he said. “You’re probably our best shot at tricking him.”

With a smile, y/n took a seat. “Why, thank you, gentleman,” she cooed, earning those flustered rosy cheeks from him. Together, the two of them came up with a pretty convincing blog post that would get the UnSub to reach out.

“What do we got so far?” Derek asked.

“We were surprised that you injected yourself into the investigation. You risked a lot in order to help William.” Y/N and Spencer read it aloud at the same time, their voices mixing together smoothly like a perfect harmony in a song.

Deciding not to comment on how blatantly obvious the two had been, Derek turned back to the task at hand. “And killing Missy tells us how close you really are.” Y/N quickly typed it up into the computer. “It must be devastating to learn that William is here with us.”

“He’s not gonna like that, it sounds like William is cooperating,” Spencer mumbled as he placed one hand on the desk, the other on the back of y/n’s chair to lean in closer to read the words on screen.

Y/N’s breath hitched in her throat as she felt his breath fan against her cheek. “Well,” she coughed to try and keep her composure. “That’s exactly what we want him to believe, so he’ll doubt their alliance.”

Once the blog post was sent, all the team could do was wait for the partner’s response. While they did that, Morgan, Spencer and y/n continued working to try and find something else, just in case their first plan fell through.

It took them a while. A lot of back and forth between Morgan and William, a lot of trying to decipher the blog posts. But in the end, the entire team managed to find William’s partner and save Andrea from her neighbor’s claws. Once they had both of them arrested, the BAU could finally breathe again.

Spencer and y/n were cleaning up the mess they had made with analyzing the blog entries. The both of them kept to themselves in silence, trying to calm their overheated brains. Out of the five cases she assisted on, this one had to have been the hardest.

As y/n absentmindedly reached for a pile of paper, Spencer did the same, causing their hands to bump. “Oh,” y/n giggled, a chuckle rolling off Spencer's lips as well. “Sorry,” they both apologized before he retracted his hand, allowing her to grab the pile.

“I, uh, I enjoyed working with you – a-again,” he stammered nervously.

A smile curved her lips. “As did I with you, Spence.”

The smile he gave her made her knees buckle. Anything this man did would make her weak. She had all these feelings bubbling up inside her the second she merely looked at him and it was driving her absolutely nuts.

But there was nothing she could do about it. After this case, she’d be going back to New York City without even knowing when she’d be seeing the Behavioral Analysis Unit again. For all she knew, she was never going to see Dr. Spencer Reid again.

“Penelope?” y/n knocked on the tech’s door when she was back at Quantico. There was a file she needed to grab to complete her after-action report Hotch made her write. She was part of the team for that case after all.

“Come in, girly pop!” Penelope exclaimed as she opened the door, her ever-chirpy attitude beaming off the walls as soon as she appeared in front of her. “I’ve got the file right here…” she trailed off whilst walking over to her desk to retrieve said file. When y/n reached for the manila folder, the blonde held it just out of reach.

“Pen–”

“First, you gotta tell me what’s going on between you and Reid,” she almost sounded threatening. As soon as y/n opened her mouth to lie, Penelope cut her off. “And don’t lie to me!”

She could feel her heart overflowing, needing to spill her deepest, darkest thoughts she had been locking inside. With a sigh, y/n plopped down on Garcia’s chair. Sensing the upcoming spilling-of-beans, Penelope perked herself on the corner of her desk.

“He’s got my heart… skipping down sixteenth Avenue,” she started, earning a gasp from the blonde. “H-he’s got that…” she moaned out a sound that had to resemble how she was feeling, “I mean… I just wanna see what’s under all that intelligence, you know?”

“Y/N! You dirty dog!” Penelope giggled, hitting the girl in front of her with the manila folder.

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh too, but then sighed. “But there’s nothing going to happen there. I’ll be off to New York later tonight and then who knows when I’ll see all of you again. It’s better that nothing happened.” She shrugged and got up from the chair, grabbing the file from Penelope’s hands.

As Penelope protested, y/n turned around towards the door, only halting with widening eyes when she saw who was standing in the doorway. Her mind raised, trying to think of what he could’ve heard and debating whether or not he had heard it. Before she could embarrass herself even more, she quickly bid her goodbyes and sneaked past him, rushing towards JJ’s office.

She hid inside, shutting the door behind her before leaning her back against it. Her eyes were still widened as they landed on JJ in a panic. “I think he knows,” she told her best friend.

“What do you mean?” JJ asked, chuckling, dropping the file she was working on.

Y/N took a seat in one of the chairs in front of JJ’s desk. “I was talking to Penelope about how–” she sighed. “About how I wanted to see what was under that intelligence…”

“Y/N!” JJ scolded, though her lips curled up in a bemused smirk.

“Worst of all is, when I got up to leave, he was standing in the doorway…”

JJ’s jaw dropped. “Do you think he heard?”

“I don’t know! I was too embarrassed to stay and ask, I just left!” Her voice came out squeaky from embarrassment alone. She didn’t quite know what to do with herself. She was hoping her best friend would know what to do.

“I think you should go talk to him,” JJ suggested the one thing she didn’t want to do.

Shaking her head, y/n protested. “Nuh-uh, Jayj, I’m leaving for New York tonight. Who knows if I’ll ever see him again!”

“I do,” JJ told her. “You’re my best friend, I might hope you come and visit me often,” she joked and y/n did laugh, but it was a half-hearted one. The dilemma seemed to be eating her alive. “Go talk to him.” The order was so sweet, yet stern enough that y/n obeyed and exited the office.

In the breakroom, she found the one she was looking for. He was making himself a cup of tea to keep him awake enough to finish his report. As he blew on the hot beverage, he glanced over the mug towards y/n, shooting a bolt of lightning through her heart with the intensity of his gaze.

“Hi,” she greeted awkwardly.

Spencer offered her a smile. “Hi.”

“You, uh…” Her brain almost short-circuited, not knowing what to say. “You wanna get out of here? Go for a walk to clear our heads before continuing on our reports?” She needed the fresh air. Maybe that would clear the fog that clouded her judgment.

“Sure,” he agreed and set his mug down before following after her.

As soon as they stepped outside, Spencer turned to y/n. “I heard you, by the way–” Her eyes shut tight. “I-I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, I just needed to ask Penelope about something and then I heard you and–”

“It’s fine, Spence. I-I shouldn’t have–” She cut herself short, noticing the look on Spencer’s face. His eyes sparkled in the dim streetlight, his smile almost lyrical. “What?”

He shook his head with a giggle. “I’ve had a crush on you ever since we were going back-and-forth about that first ransom note.”

Y/N’s heart was nearly beating out of her chest at his confession. This had to be a dream.

“And when I noticed how flustered you were when Emily insisted we were copy-pasted, I was a goner. It sounds so weird, but I’ve never met someone who met my level of intelligence.”

“Barely,” y/n scoffed, but Spencer either ignored her quip or he didn’t hear it.

“I love how your eyes light up whenever you deduct how someone’s been using ‘I’ instead of ‘we’ or when the intent of the sentence dawns on you. I love how you stick your pens in your ponytail when you don’t have your hands free and how you wiggle your nose when you’re thinking. I love how you know my coffee order and how you’d get upset when no one has almond milk for yours.”

She was absolutely soaring. Her heart was skipping, her eyes nearly tearing up at the sweetest of words rolling off his lips.

Before he could add anything that would send her into hysterical sobbing, she leaned in and kissed his lips sweetly. It was a quick kiss, more like a peck. Just to gauge his reaction. When his hands came up to cup her face, a soft smile landed on her lips before he kissed it away.

This time around, it was deep and passionate; like he had been waiting to do this for the past five weeks, the same way she had been waiting to do this. She reeled at the feeling of his warm tongue slipping past her tingling lips.

All of it reminded her of being seventeen again, no one understanding what she was feeling.

But he understood.

He knew.

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@boimlers-gonna-boim @samsbirks @tinaasthings @dysphoricsanity @love4lando @elenamoncada-ibarra @r-3dlips @magstheslayer @astess

#spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds

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deeznutzzzz24 · 11 months ago

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Little Red Riding Hood

Chapter Four: Reckoning Day

Summary: Living a life of caution for as long as she can remember, Y/N has never stayed too long in one place, always moving from town to town in hopes to hide her identity. With the Hunters Moon coming, she knows she must be extra careful, as the local culture resides heavily in the hunting of her kind. One night, when a cloaked figure unveils her secret and narrowly escapes, Y/N finds herself in a desperate situation: kill or be killed. With no face to go by, she must now search through the townsfolk before the stranger can spread the truth about her. But the task proves more than difficult when she realises her only lead is a long, crimson cloak.

Genre: horror, fantasy, little red riding hood retelling

Warnings:cursing, stalking, death

Pairing: redridinghood!Jungwon x femwolf!reader

chapter one here

chapter two here

chapter three here

The trek through the forest is long, awkward, and incredibly quiet.

Jungwon trails behind me now, walking at a hesitant pace to ensure there’s enough distance between us.

He hasn’t said anything since we left Mary’s cottage, but then again, neither have I.

Stopping in the middle of the forests path, I wait for Jungwon to catch up to me. Just as quickly, however, he comes to a stop too, taking a step backward. “Is there something wrong?” His soft voice is soft and calm, or at least that’s how he wants it to sound. I can hear it brimming with fear.

“My dress…” I pout, pointing to the taut fabric stuck to a tree, “its caught on a branch.”

I hear him suck in a breath.

I don’t have to be telepathic to know he’s contemplating how to escape this. He’s afraid of me. And I intend to find out why.

Despite my obvious impatience, he makes no move to come closer. “Have you tried tugging it?” His voice is gentle, as though not to test my patience further.

“Twice, but it just won’t budge…” I muster the most helpless face possible and plaster it against my skin.

He’s calculating his options. He knows I’m close to Mary. He also knows I will relay all his actions to her when and if she should ask.

If Mary were to find out that her grandson refused to help her dear sweet Y/N, she’d make his stay in Avion a living hell.

He grimaces, slowly moving forward and kneeling before me. Gently manoeuvring the fabric away from the branch, he carefully tugs at the loose fragments so they don’t rip. I peer down at him, catching the way his jaw clenches in determination.

If he is who I think he is, I’m going to have to play at this very carefully. Helena and I didn’t just spend an entire year planning a siege on Avion just for it to be spoiled by a boy. Besides, it wouldn’t work if I killed him now. While Mary would likely take my side, I have no doubt the Council will point their stubby fingers to me. Not to mention, if I kill him now, everyone will know I was the last person he was seen with.

Helena’s words echo through my ears.

All good things come to those who wait.

She’s right, as always.

If I want this boy dead, I’m going to have to play chess with him first. And the first step is to move his piece as close to mine as possible so that when he gets there, I’ll be able to lean over and snap his neck.

————————-

We make it to the town pathway and bid our farewells, parting ways in the opposite directions. The walk was quick and silent, as expected.

After the incident with the branch, I didn’t initiate any further conversation. It wasn’t like there was really any point, anyway. Every time I tried to, he’d give brief, quiet answers.

I make it to the Avion welcome post and turn back to watch him walk away. I study his figure, comparing it with a memory of a red cloak running away into the forest. Jungwon has a similar build, but then again, so do most young Avion men. Lean, tall with broad shoulders. It could’ve been anyone.

Yes, I shouldn’t be so quick to make assumptions. I need something more solid. Something clearer.

But it’s no use. The strangers face was covered during our tumble, and I can’t go by his voice as he never actually spoke. My memories can’t disclose any detailed traits, only the image of a long, dark red cloak descending into the darkness remains.

Casting one last glance back to him, I turn around to resume my journey.

A fleeting memory evades my mind and I whirl back around.

His leg.

I threw a heavy rock at him during our tumble, which by any measure, would’ve given him a noticeable limp. If it really is him, his leg will give him away for sure.

But it’s too late, Jungwon is long gone, his figure completely swallowed by the darkness of the forest.

I contemplate running after him, but it’s no use. The last thing I need is for him to know I’m onto him. It’s not like his leg can heal itself overnight.

Helena’s voice rings through my head once more.

All good things come to those who wait.

Yes.

I’ll check tomorrow.

——————————————

Roaming through endless stretches of darkness, I come to a stop as I notice something out of place. It takes me a good five minutes to realise I’m lost. You’d think such a thing to be impossible, considering werewolves simply don’t get lost. The forest is both their home and hunting ground, not to mention, I’ve hunted in these woods every night for almost a year.

Hiding under the stark shadows of the moon, a grand chapel stands proud against the quiet blur of forest, its walls painted with breathtaking swirls of gold and white.

I eye the barren gates blocking my view.

Hmmm.

I know the dark forest better than the back of my hand. The curve of every leaf, the song of every house sparrow, the whisper of every hallowed tree hidden beneath the southern sky. I would’ve noticed a grand fixture like this if I’d seen it.

You definitely weren’t here before, were you?

But, no. The trees, the shade of ebony green flooding through the forest, it’s too…..unfamiliar.

I come to the realisation that this isn’t the Dark Forest at all, but somewhere else entirely different.

Maybe I’ve gone mad…

I shrug at the thought and move forward. The gates open silently as I pass through, standing firm as I come to a stop before the chapels smooth marble steps.

Unlike the entrance, however, the grand doors make no move to welcome me inside.

Cocking my head to the side, I lift a hand to the smooth white surface, giving three firm knocks.

No response.

I sigh, turning to retreat.

They can probably sense my dark magic through the doors. It’s clear I’m not welcome in such a holy place.

Before I can turn away, a thrum of noise echoes from the other side.

Without warning, the right door creaks open, defying its twin, who stays stubbornly stuck in place as I pass through.

The interior is enormous, boasting a grand sea of pews that face a massive podium. It’s windows shower a heavenly glow from the outside world onto its empty seats.

I stop in my tracks, glancing back to the grand doors from which I came.

They’re shut solid.

Huh….

I could’ve sworn it was night time.

I turn back to the windows. Observing the harsh stretch of white oblivion behind them, I come to the sensible conclusion that I have indeed gone mad.

This place is filled with magic.

Magic has been banned from Avion since the Dark Ages.

Yes, I’m not in Avion at all, rather somewhere else entirely.

Small echoes of church choir embrace me from every corner as all thoughts of realism slip between my fingertips like sand.

I look around, expecting to find a hoard of quire children singing their hearts out, but the chapel remains empty.

Well, almost.

In the distance, I spot a figure sitting alone in the first row of pews. His back faces me as his fingers clasp desperately together in prayer, hands held high above his head. He’s too far away to call out to, so I go to step closer, only for a soft voice to stop me.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” I whip my head around, fingers dancing across the hilt of my dagger with caution.

A tall young man stands at my side, admiring a large mural hanging high on the wall before him. I observe his long robes, taking careful notice of the golden silk adorning his cuffs.

A Priests cuffs.

Naturally, my gaze lifts to look upon his face, only to choke on my own breath as I realise he doesn’t have one.

That’s it, I’ve officially gone mad.

Face covered by a cloud of beige blur, the stranger stands patiently to the side as he waits for my response. It’s nearly impossible to see what he looks like.

“Beautiful?” I glance to the giant engraving of Christ before us, cocking my head to the side as I inspect its infinite detail. The carving depicts a heart wrenching image of Jesus hanging limp against the cross, his features scrunched in agony as onlookers watch his suffering from afar, unmoving from their posts.

I glance over to him, cocking a small grin. “A Priest who delights in the suffering of Christ? I can’t say I’ve met one until now.” Though I can’t be sure, I feel his smile widen at my remark.

“I’m no Priest, though I’m flattered you think so. And it isn’t Christ’s suffering I find beautiful, but rather his sacrifice.” His voice remains calm, a beacon of gentle reprieve.

Stopping in brief intervals to observe the artistry of each portrait, I hear him follow behind me as we trail down the hall, coming to a large portrait of gods greatest disciples standing atop a grand table. For a fleeting moment, I allow myself to admire them in all their glory, that is, until I realise they’re cowering above the table as a group of atheists throw food at them from below.

Why would a painting like this be allowed in here?

“What sacrifice?” I laugh, nodding my head back towards the last mural. “The one where he ties himself to a wooden post and lets people stab at him?”

He laughs, his voice a soft, song like noise that feels sinful to listen to. “You don’t believe his suffering to be honourable?”

I shrug, turning my head to the side. “A noble sacrifice, I’m sure.” My eyes dance along the carved lines, tracing the fervent colours that connect the faithful. “But a pointless one all the same.”

I hear him scoff beside me. “How so?” I glance across, scanning the blurry haze that clouds his face. “Please,” he laughs in derision, motioning a hand towards the painting, “indulge me, little bird.” I can’t help but cringe at the nickname.

Without thinking, my hand reaches up towards the engraving, letting my lips explain the difference between reality and blind faith. “Most believe God sacrificed his sons life to teach us a lesson,” my fingertips trace the carved lines as I continue, “to eradicate the temptation to sin, by showing us that his very weak, very mortal son would live a life without sin, only to die for the price of ours. An honourable contribution and yet, look at them.” I motion to the carved audience watching Christ’s suffering from afar, whose faces stain with worry and fear. Among the carved crowd, my fingers find that of a mother clutching her young son as they watch on in horror.

They, much like the rest of those watching, make no move to release Christ from his restraints. Some faithful indeed.

I turn to face him now, staring into a hidden face with features I can’t quite make out, “Such a noble sacrifice, and for what? The mortals Christ died for? They don’t care. They may hang crosses above their dinner tables and dress for church every Sunday, but their blood boils with sin. It is the very beat of our hearts between each breath that condemns us.“ I pause and lift my head high, reciting the verse my mother used to drill into me as a child, “It’s as the judgement reads, ‘we are all sinners, though some of us are far better at hiding it than others.’”

The stranger makes no move to argue with my reason. Instead, he remains silent, and though I can’t quite see, I’m certain I feel his gaze burning straight through me. “And I suppose you would consider yourself such a person?” He asks softly, as though he’s sure of my answer.

I laugh and shake my head. “I used to be. But I’m afraid a rather…..” I pause, briefly hesitating as I trace the outline of an edge, “unfortunate shortcoming has exposed a sin of mine.” My fingertip gets caught on a jagged edge, and I watch in silence as it slices through taut skin with ease.

Small drops of blood fall to the floor.

“I suppose I’m not as good at hiding my flaws as I thought.” I murmur that last part, unsure if I even meant for him to hear.

The young man steps closer, stopping just short of contact, watching, waiting, searching for something. At this proximity, I can almost make out the soft glaze of ebony eyes. Its clear he wants to ask me something, though it seems he already knows the answer. While the small distance makes me feel uneasy, I don’t turn away, opting to neglect my emotions as he involuntarily unveils them.

Anything.

His eyes nearly plead the word, as though he wants me to confess something to him. After a long moment, he realises that’s not going to happen and turns away.

He motions to a mural on our right. I follow his hand, expecting to find another glorified portrait of Christ, but no, this one’s not quite like the others at all.

Its canvas spews a swirl of fiery reds across its surface, painting a picture of terrified mortals falling into a pit of hellfire from above. I look down to its description plaque. Its design is different from the rest, with three short words etched against a small, non descriptive plate of metal.

Day of Reckoning.

Unlike the rest, it bears no mention of a deeper meaning.

“Dishonesty is the quickest path to evil. You’ll do well to remember that, little bird.” I watch in silence as he lifts a hand out to graze a finger against the canvas. “They had sins too.” He sighs. “And like you, they chose to hide them from their forefathers.” He motions to the boiling pit of hellfire. “Of course, all sinners eventually go to hell, but there’s a special place for those who try and keep those sins secret.” I feel his gaze burn through me.

Before I can respond, he turns abruptly and resumes his stroll down the hall. He doesn’t look back as he calls out. “The day of reckoning will come, little bird. First, with your confession,” I watch in silence as he descends into the darkness of the Abbey, hands held firm behind his back, “and then with mine.”

————————

Scanning the Abbey’s pews for the lone figure I spotted earlier, my eyes hunt for any sign of movement, but it seems he too, is long gone.

The church quire still echoes in the distance, but the chapel is truly empty now. My only company is the tall shadow attached at my feet.

Small drops of water fall nearby from a leaky faucet. Turning to confront the noise, I come to face a stone well that sits dead centre in the middle of the Abbey.

What the hell is a well doing inside a church?

I creep forward, itching with the need to see what lays inside.

Instead of water, I’m greeted with an endless stretch of black oblivion that seems to stretch on forever. An empty well? Surely not. Perhaps it does have water at the end. Perhaps it’s too dark for me to tell.

A thought spears at my mind and my blood runs cold with dread.

Perhaps it doesn’t have an end at all.

Curiosity gets the better of me as I grip one hand to the stone corner and lean over, squinting against the darkness.

Still, I see no sign of an end to the well. It simply goes on and on, and I wonder, for real this time, where I truly am.

Before my mind can spiral a thousand different theories, a cold hand attaches itself to the small of my back and pushes me in.

I let out a panicked gasp and reach out for a pillar or a slab of stone I can grab onto, but it’s too late, I’m already falling down, down, down until there’s no more down to fall.

Before I plummet into the last depth of darkness, I whip my head to the cloaked figure that pushed me in, forcing my eyes to adjust to the darkness as the figure watches me from the top of the well. Face concealed by the shadow of his hood, the stranger turns to retreat, leaving a small corner of his red cloak to flap behind him before he disappears completely out of sight.

I force my drooping eyes open, denying them the reprieve of sleep as they try to whisper sweet nothings in my ear.

A red cloak.

My breath catches in my throat, and I question my sanity as I fall further down the well.

Wait, or was it orange? Maybe an amber beige?

But the colour of the cloak is no matter now, for my eyes are much too tired and my bones much too sore. I feel the bottom of the well nearing and briefly ponder the thought of death.

I’ve heard stories that when one dies they experience a slow peace that floods them from all sides. All the beautiful memories of their life flash before their eyes in slow motion.

Where is this the peace they speak of?

Why isn’t everything in slow motion? Why instead, am I falling ridiculously fast to my death?

Is this what it’s really like? A tumbling, torturous rotation of fear? A well with no end? A faceless figure?

I hear the echo of my screams ricochet off the bottom of the well, and when I glance behind me I realise I was right.

There is water after all.

An endless, black pit of it.

———————————-

Authors Note:

…..I have no words for how sorry I am at how long it took me to write this……..

…..really, no words…..🥲🔫

Taglist:

@ramenoil @moonmoongi @chlorinecake @denleave1088 @cha0thicpisces @w3bqrl @yu-yin-04 @rizzhee @babyy-bambii

#jungwon smut #enhypen x female reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen smut #heeseung smut #heeseung x reader #jungwon x reader

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ixiot-ghostrebel · 1 year ago

Note

Hello my stupid brain rot about yanquing twin sibling reader and about thier encounter with jing liu and how reader and yanquing remindes her of for explain jing Yuan and blade and I don't know why but post lofu I can see jing liu telling the general that she will take the reader as her new student but reader is like NO! I will not leave my bro alone and says how yanquing can't be left alone becose well after how yanquing left the reader to be beaten up by blade amd Dan henga they will never leave thier bro alone....NEVER!

I think I get what you're request, @zardas75 ! I'll try my best for this request :)

Ohohoho...It's Aboutta Go Down.

(Warning: Might be OOC! All Relationships are STRICTLY Platonic!)

The moment you and Yanqing saw Jingliu just stroll on in so chillaxed, you both brought out your swords and nearly launched.

Had it not been for Jing Yuan being present, and giving you the look that says "Not now," you both would've probably gotten straight into battle.

And the moment Jingliu opens her mouth and say she wants to take you for a disciple, you were two milliseconds away from sending out an entire paragraph filled with the verbal middle finger—which was very unprofessional, but hey, does it look like you care? Absolutely not!

Jing Yuan is glaring down at his former master and Yanqing is fuming. And honestly, you don't blame either of them. You and Yanqing had to constantly hold each other back by the absolute nonsense Jingliu was spewing out her throat.

"You are not taking one of my disciples...Master." Jing Yuan glares down at the former Sword Champion. "You are not taking them, regardless of their status as my retainer. I refuse to have my retainers separated."

He knew darn well the mayhem and bloodshed you both can cause if he agrees with this. And even looking over that part, he would never give you over to Jingliu. She was dangerous. She was mara-strucked and harsh. He would know—he's seen it all in his long life.

Yanqing is over and beyond furious that this woman is trying to take you—his twin sibling—away from him—your twin brother. And you share the same emotions so, what the hell, Jingliu!

"I'M NOT GOING WITH HER." You declare, seething and not afraid to show your hatred. "Why should I go with her anyway?! What's wrong with how I do things now, huh?"

"You have potential. Even more so than your fellow disciple." "Says who, you? Why should I listen?" "I can help you hone your skills. You can be the next greatest sword wielder of the Xianzhou Luofu." "I'll start listening to you when I start seeing rocks grow wings and fly, or mechanical cranes start laying eggs out of their non-existent a—" Yanqing covers your mouth.

Jingliu tilts her head. "Why are you so persistent in staying with them? Your fellow friend here has proved to need much improvement—" You both narrow your eyes at that comment. "—while it's clear that you have the means to go further than the level he is playing at. Do you truly not wish to exceed your swordsmanship further?"

Just as Jing Yuan was about to talk in his ever serious general voice, you pried off Yanqing's hand and say. "Why should I work with someone who likes to beat up my twin? Are you stupid?! At least have the manners to be apologetic about it, like that Dan Heng guy! You're just as bad as Blade at this point—"

Yanqing quickly covers your mouth again. You two made eye contact, remembering what you two swore not to speak of when in front of Jing Yuan—Don't talk about Dan Heng or Blade in front of the General. Looks like you got too caught up in your emotions, but you were still standing strong in your statement.

Jing Yuan sighs. He was aware of the entire situation, but he hadn't really expected for you to still hold a grudge for that Yanqing got beat by his old friends. Nevertheless, he looks over at Jingliu. "As you can see, Master, they are showing great reluctance to participate to train with you. I advise you leave, or we will have to...contain you, so to speak." You and Yanqing raise your swords, ready for the fight and the chase.

Yes, Jingliu escaped in the end. Girlie is fast fr.

Ghost Rebel Side Notes: N/A

✦ Check out The Ghost Rebel’s Blog Description & Info Page to See if Their Mailbox is Open! ✦

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dontbesoweirdkira · 9 months ago

Note

For a cunty request can I have a time traveler reader with any of mafia? Maybe Vico or Tommy?

A/N: oh this is going to be hilarious! Thank you for requesting…stay cunty😘✨ (hopefully I did your idea some justice. I didn’t entirely know what scenario you wanted so just some general thoughts)

Warnings: ⚠️a little bit of Joe Barbaro ⚠️

Masterlist

Requests: open 24/7

I’ve chosen Vito because have you ever seen those memes where it’s like, “a victorian child would probably have an aneurysm over this”, yeah…that would be Tommy if you appeared in his timeline

Like that man is stressed the hell out enough! Don’t go ruining his life further with your shenanigans.

Besides Vito would definitely take this far better than anyone else with the exception of the characters from mafia iii. My brother has been to prison, shipped out to war, and now suddenly in the mob…he’s definitely seen some unspeakable shit..

Every soldier has at least one paranormal experience…for him it just happened to be your dumb ass.

He’s not amused by you in the slightest at first..what the fuck is an iPhone and why are you dressed like an idiot? Are you high on something or just unwell?????

“Look Lady, I really don’t have time for this shit and I have places to be. If you need something there’s a Salvation Army right down the block..”

Of course you keep persisting that you’re perfectly fine and that you’re actually from the future. I can just imagine Vito speed walking away with an exasperated expression plastered across his face; you're just continuing to spew nonsense as you follow him.

“I-I don’t want to hear you talk about your fucking bullshit future! Please just go away.”

This man’s blood pressure is through the roof at this point. He’s even trying to physically shoo you away, if it wasn’t for his background he would’ve taken you to the police department.

“Okay do you want a dollar? Huh, will that make you finally stop yapping?? Actually, here take 20 and go away.”

Eventually he just gives up. You’re the most hard headed individual he’s ever encountered and he let’s you follow him. You’re obviously not giving this up.

Partly thinks this is some kind of prank Joe set up to get back at him.

So naturally his first instinct is go go find Joe because if he has to hear the crazy shit you’re spewing, so does he.

Worst. Mistake. Ever.

At first Joe is also trying to get you to leave his buddy alone. Even offering you money just like Vito did earlier but then a light bulb goes off!

Joe’s main mission in life is to piss off Vito and for him…golden opportunity right here for free.

“Sooo…Y/N was it? Tell me, if you are from the future, will Vito always be this fugly?”

“Oh shut the hell up for once would ya? This is a serious situation we have on our hands and you think this is the time to be making jokes??”

“Maybe not fugly but he will end up being a grumpy old man with no wife or kids.”

Joe absolutely loves you and you’re now besties

“Oohhhh no. You two will not be in cahoots!! Joe stop fucking around.”

Don’t worry, Vito eventually comes around to you. He kind of has to now that Joe is riding this thing so hard.

Neither one of them truly believes you though. At least not at first. It’s kind of difficult to prove until the event you’re warning them about actually comes to pass.

You are able to tell them extremely detailed facts and information about themselves and the mafia. You warn them about Henry and give tips about different tasks.

This made them suspicious of you and blew you off as some kind of narc for knowing so damn much. It wasn’t until things started becoming true, they came running right back to you.

They’re both feeling a mixture of excitement, concern and confusion.

Joe doesn’t understand that you only know main historical events and wants you to give him the winning numbers to the lottery.

Vito on the other hand thinks you’re some sort of crazy psychic or maybe one of them aliens from the film he had just seen.

Either way you’re definitely not from here.

Ultimately Vito doesn’t entirely know how to handle all of this. I don’t think anyone would ever be able to fully process this happening. After all you’ve predicted and protected him from, he just accepts that you’re who you say you are.

You’re not a threat to him and Joe seems to really enjoy having you around so I guess he doesn’t really mind you either. He lets you stay at his place too. It’s the least he could do after all your help and the shit he gave.

At least you’re not as bad as that kid, Marty.

#vito scaletta #joe barbaro #mafia headcanon #mafia ii #mafia 2 #headcanon #vito scaletta x reader #mafia trilogy #mafia definitive edition #mafia 3 #tommy angelo

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damn-stark · 10 months ago

Text

Chapter 28 A song for us

Chapter 28 of Sugar

A/N- Lowkey want some angst already 😅😂

Warning- Swearing, some angst, talks of abuse, FLUFF, talks of death, cigarettes, spoilers!! long chapter, some violence but not really, NFSW, semi-public, wrap before you tap it, a lot of kissing,

Pairing- Choso x Gojo!fem-reader, Suguru Geto x Gojo!fem-reader

Takes place during- Only the beginning of Chapter 222 of the manga

(Let me know if you want to be tagged)

————

*SATORU P.O.V. 11 YEARS AGO*

He’s getting away.

He can’t let Suguru get away, but nothing that he said made him come back. So what can he say now? He needs to think. Think!

He’s getting lost in the sea of people, he needs to think…

Wait…

“What about my sister!” Satoru yells out with desperation as he wonders why he didn’t think of bringing you up before. “What about y/n?”

Suguru stops in his tracks and slowly turns back around to face Satoru.

“You’re just going to abandon her without an explanation?! I thought you loved her!” Satoru throws out even though he never came to like the idea of you, his little sister, and Suguru, his best friend, together. He just needs to find a way to make Suguru stay.

“I do love her,” Suguru says back without hesitation. “I’ve tried talking to her, but Shoko says your family took her. Are you really going to leave her there? How could you let them treat her the way they did?”

Satoru parts his lips to argue but he finds himself in disbelief at what was thrown at him.

How dare Suguru say that? He knows better than anyone how protective Satoru is of you. Besides, he doesn’t understand the family dynamic, it’s different from his. It’s not that simple.

“How dare you,” Satoru spats back. “How dare you accuse me of that!”

“And how dare you accuse me of abandoning y/n,” Suguru redirects a lot calmer than Satoru is right now. “I want to explain myself, I want to talk to her, but even if she wasn’t at your family home it’s not like you’d let us talk, would you?”

“Like hell, I would,” Satoru proved him exactly right, making Suguru scoff.

“That’s what I thought. That’s why I told Shoko to rely her a message for me. I couldn’t trust you to do it, you never liked the idea of us together in the first place.”

Satoru takes a big step forward and further furrows his eyebrows and can’t stop himself from spitting out his next words full of rage. “I don’t want you talking to her! I don’t want you seeing her ever again, do you understand?! Leave y/n out of this!”

Suguru swallows thickly and doesn’t make any promises, or assure Satoru of anything, he just turns around and walks away through the sea of people, leaving Satoru alone.

——

*YOU. NOW*

“What?” You probe your brother who seems to be lost in thought.

“Hm?” He probes back and looks up at you from his seat on the gurney.

“Penny for your thoughts? Or are you suffering from some kind of head trauma?” You say and lean against the bed. “That seems to be it because what makes you think you can walk into my house unannounced in the morning?” You remark and smack the back of his head.

“Your door was unlocked,” he points out. “And it wasn’t early, you were awake.”

“Yeah,” you scoff. “My door is unlocked because I forgot to lock it, it doesn’t mean it’s a sign for you to barge in, and two, it’s human decency to knock, or at least let me know when you’re going.”

Satoru doesn’t take you seriously because he snickers. “I was hoping to scare off your boyfriend. Which almost worked, did you see the look on his face? He looked like a deer caught in headlights!”

Of course, it’s his inability to be a normal brother and accept who you’re dating.

“Have you even caught a deer in headlights,” you mumble nonsense as you try not to give in to the frustration slowly boiling within you.

“Have you?” He redirects.

You cross your arms over your chest and look out the door in hopes Shoko is approaching.

But she isn’t. Typical doctor-like behavior.

“Don’t pop a vein, sis,” Satoru says and nudges your arm with his foot, making you scrunch your nose in disgust but continue listening to whatever shit he has to say.

“It’s what big brothers do.”

“Perhaps when we were teenagers,” you throw at him over your shoulder. “But we’re adults now.”

Satoru is still finding humor in this. He’s biting back a smile.

“I’m just having a hard time understanding that you love each other after nineteen days,” he remarks. “I mean I wasn't gone long for things to change that much. I mean think about it, y/n, you’re—-”

Thankfully, he gets cut off by Shoko and Ijichi just as he was growing serious.

“All your labs came in fine, Satoru,” Shoko assures him. “Your blood work is normal, and your sleep doesn’t worry me because that’s something you don’t get regardless. You’re completely sane and healthy,”

“You might want to double-check the sane part again,” you interject bitterly. “He’s anything but.”

Satoru gets you back by poking your side with his toe, so you snap back around and smack his arm. “That’s so gross,” you hiss.

Satoru approaches his other foot towards you, but you quickly step back and pull Shoko in front of you to make her act as a shield considering you don’t have Nanami or Suguru anymore to hide behind.

“Thank you for that,” Shoko mutters.

You rest your chin on her shoulder and shrug. “Better you than me.”

Shoko sighs and reaches back into the correct pocket this time to take out your pack of cigarettes.

“Why is this still full?” She asks as she pulls one out and then offers you one.

“Because I only smoke when I’m stressed,” you remind her and take your pack back instead of taking one. “Where’s yours?”

“I’ll finish yours first.”

You sigh but don’t argue, you just light her cigarette with your fire after you put your pack away, and then pull away to sit beside Satoru on the gurney.

“Damn,” Satoru mumbles. “So it’s just the three of us left.”

“Well, there’s that idiot left,” Shoko reminds him of Suguru.

But it’s not like it’s actually him. It’s just his body. Suguru is gone...

“That’s true,” Satoru agrees and then sighs as he drops his head. “I always thought Nanami was the type that would survive one way or the other.”

“Sorry,” Ijichi catches you all by surprise.

“Why are you apologizing?” You quickly press in utter confusion.

“Nanami is dead so why are you still breathing is how that sounded to me, so—”

“Just how low is your opinion of me,” Satoru thankfully cuts him off. “Ijichi, you still have a monumental task to perform, right? Make sure to give it your all.”

“Yeah,” you pitch in to assure Ijichi. “Don’t put yourself down Ijichi. You’re one of us. Just as Nanami was.” You smile and the timid man nods in comprehension as he hides a shy smile by looking down.

“On the topic of Nanami,” Shoko interjects and drifts your attention to Ino walking over. “It seems like Ino has something to say to us.”

You pay close attention to what Ino has to input about your best friend and his mentor. Which doesn’t take long, but the topic still brings you down and reminds you that no matter what you saw, he should still be here. He deserved to live out his dream.

“Before you get swarmed by people,” Satoru pulls you back into the room after Ino, Shoko, and Ijichi left. “I'm going home tomorrow. I want you and Satori to come with me.”

You know exactly what he’s referring to, he wouldn't have said anything otherwise, but you can’t take this so lightly.

“You scared to sleep alone or what?” You tease him, but he doesn’t laugh because he knows what you’re doing.

“I’ll be there the entire time,” he tries to assure your fear. “And it’s not like they can push you around anymore. You’re stronger now. You’re an adult.”

He doesn’t get it, but why would he? He was coddled, he was their perfect son who could do nothing wrong, while you were their second child, a daughter who could never be good enough. He doesn’t get your reluctance even now as an adult.

“I’ll take Choso then,” you try to make it better for you.

“No,” he quickly puts you down and just makes your refusal to accept that much easier. “No boyfriend. It’s family business. They need to see that you’re as much part of the clan as you were then. And they need to see who will lead them after me. I won’t hide her, nor do I want her to fear them.”

“Then you take her alone,” you try to pull yourself out even if it means having Satori go without you. “I’m not going back.”

“You’ve been back,” he quickly brings up your rendezvous that happened 8 years ago.

“It was different,” you quickly counter. “Plus what if you have kids of your own down the line, what would be the point of presenting her to them.”

“That’s doubtful,” he argues. “But that’s beside the point, you won’t make her go alone will you?”

You glare at him and spat. “Don’t use her. Don’t you dare.”

“Y/N,” he cuts in. “It’s just one day. Just for an hour or two.”

“I have a date tomorrow,” you tell him. “I can’t. You can’t make me.” You raise your voice as your fear and anxiety start to heighten.

“You have a date all day?” He mutters in annoyance.

“Does it matter?” You hide the fact that it’s in the afternoon. “I said—”

“You can’t hide from them forever, it’s time to face them and make peace,” he tries his best to comfort you. “Show them they can’t hurt you anymore, and present your daughter, show them that they won’t take her away or hurt her because you and I won’t let them.”

Tears well in your eyes and you whisper. “You promise?” You sound like that scared little girl all over again. “Promise they won’t hurt her or—or me. Promise me Satoru.”

Your brother grabs your shoulders and nods. “I swear.”

You’ll never be comforted, but you give in to try and do what he said. To prove to them that you’re everything they thought you wouldn’t be. “Fine, but we leave no later than 1 pm, I have a date that day.”

Satoru scoffs in displeasure but he doesn’t say a thing about it. “Fine,” he says. “I’ll pick you up in the morning.”

He pulls his hand away and opens the door for him to walk out first before letting you follow.

“You better be there in time Satoru or I will not go,” you scold him. “Do you understand?”

He snickers. “Yeah, yeah.”

Yeah, yeah, turns to an hour late, or two. For his sake that better not be true.

“Did you meet the new sorcerers yet?” Satoru swiftly changes the subject as you walk towards your students, child, and Choso, and he follows. “From what I’ve been told they’re an impressive lot.”

“Yeah,” you scoff with a smug smirk. “It seems Kenjaku really screwed himself over considering that they’re helping us now.”

Satoru then snorts and as you steal a glance at him you see a malicious look on his face. “I applaud his dedication.” He snickers like a child. “He chose to be screwed to have a child.”

“Eww,” you groan and push him away. “You’re so gross, why did you have to put that image in my head?”

“We’re adults, we can talk about that,” he remarks sassily.

“That’s not the problem here, I don’t want to hear about Kenjaku’s sex life,” you grumble. It’s like hearing about a parent's or a grandparent's affairs, it’s gross and unnecessary information.

Yet your brother doesn’t see it that way, he seems to find joy in the topic and claps loudly. “Yeah I get it, I mean he’s, like, what? Your father-in-law, slash rival, slash hijacker of your husband's corpse.”

“He’s just my rival,” you correct. “Choso and I aren't married.”

“When do you think he’ll propose? I mean, watch out he might get on his knee on your first date,” he teases. “Talk about a deal breaker.”

You roll your eyes over to him and press him a glare, letting him see that you have no protest or attempt to argue about what he thinks is a bad idea.

“Wait,” he slowly loses that amusement on his face and tone. “You wouldn’t say yes, would you? That’s ridiculous. You just met the guy—”

“I didn’t say anything,” you cut him off before you get pissed off. “And he wouldn’t. Just lay off him okay?”

You walk off as you approach who you’re looking for, causing him to come to a stop and watch with growing disdain as you fall by Choso’s side.

“So are you two ready to train?” You tell Kirara and Hakari. “I'm off sabbatical and!” You point at your boyfriend before he could even think of protesting. “No one can say a thing because it’s the doctor's orders, so I’m ready when you are.” You grin excitedly.

Kirara nevertheless lets out a deep sigh and looks at you with pity before they share a glance with Hakari, and then a nervous glance with Choso.

“What?” You probe and start to frown. “What’s wrong?”

“We’re going to take Choso shopping,” they let you know, and your joy turns to beaming excitement.

“No way, that sounds cool, do we leave now?”

Hakari shakes his head and throws his arm around Choso’s shoulders. “No, it’s just us three.”

You frown and immediately pass Choso a confused and soft pleading look so he can reconsider. “What? Come on.”

“We won’t be gone long,” Choso interjects now and holds eye contact without breaking under pressure to your batting lashes.

“But—”

“No, sorry Master,” Kirara quickly rebuttals. “Next time?”

You look at the three of them and narrow your gaze to a pointed glare as you try to figure out what they’re up to since you can’t tag along. But Kirara and Hakari have a poker face, and Hakari is especially good at those. And Choso…he’s good, he manages to keep their secret and instead approaches you to take you by the arms and assure you…he’s trying to assure you…tsk.

“We’ll be back soon, my love. They’re just going to help me pick something for tomorrow. I can bring you something, anything.”

You try to fight it, but the offer is too tempting, so you give in like a sucker. “Maybe some desserts, like Mochi. Or something like Caramel popcorn, or some Daifuku. Something sweet.”

Choso laughs softly and nods. “I’ll bring it all to you.”

You grow flustered and can’t help but lean in for a deep kiss as if he were a soldier off to war.

It’s just the first time you’ll be apart for a long period since you met. It feels weird not having him close now.

Which you have to admit sounds pretty ridiculous, but maybe it’s your honeymoon stage, or all the trauma you've both been through, or the fact that you’re so overly attached to each other, but you just don’t like the idea of being so far apart…

So maybe it’s just your own trauma and fears…

“Do you need money?” You ask considering he doesn’t have an income.

“No,” he quickly retorts. “The only good thing Noritoshi did before he revealed who he really was, was give us money. I haven’t used it so I have plenty of it. Don’t worry about me.”

You sigh and can’t help but smile teasingly as you wrap your arms around his neck and trace a circle on the back of his neck. “Okay, and if you get a message from me saying how much I miss you don’t come running. I just don’t want you to forget about me.”

Choso shoots you a pointed look and quickly rebuttals. “Impossible. I’ll try not to take long.”

You smirk and lean in to whisper in his ear. “If I send you a photo later make sure not to open it in public, okay?”

You hear Choso swallow thickly and feel his body stiffen with surprise. “All right,” he assures you nervously.

You pull back and flash him a teasing smirk before you press a peck on his lips. He doesn’t think that’s enough to send him off so he steals an open mouth kiss from you that you try to fuel with more desire, but he’s suddenly yanked back by Hakari.

“Neither of you are going off to war just yet, we need to head out.” He scolds you two, making you giggle and wave goodbye at Choso as he’s guided away without falter now.

When you return your attention to the rest of the room, the first thing you spot is Satoru wrapping the black scarf Satori made him.

“You’re like a little old lady now, Sugar,” he tells her sweetly as she’s beaming at him for not hiding the scarf she made with her own two hands. “Where’s my sweater and my gloves?”

Satori sighs. “Well, Belinda’s mom only taught me to knit a scarf. A sweater is too hard. And I couldn’t make you gloves because I don’t know how big your hands are.”

You laugh softly as you watch them from afar.

“I heard you need a sparring partner,” someone’s voice in your ear startles you.

“What?” You gasp and spin around to face your intruder with a glare.

“Oh, it’s you,” you mutter at Kashimo. “I know you’ve been dead, or in the state of limbo for like a thousand years, or whatever, but it’s not proper to creep up on women anymore. You know?”

He looks at you unamused and just simply presses you. “Do you want to do this or not?”

You really have nothing else to do since your students and your boyfriend are gone. Plus you really are curious about his fighting style.

“Fine,” you sigh, “but we’ll have to take this outside.”

He scoffs. “Obviously.”

You roll your eyes and start leading the way out. However, before you can leave the building you finally spot someone you’ve been waiting to meet, the lawyer!

Thus you depart from your set path and approach him with a smile, causing Kashimo to groan and wait for you with his arms crossed by the door.

“You must be Hiromi Higuruma,” you greet him sweetly. “I’ve been waiting to meet you since all I’ve heard from the students is how great you are. I’m Y/N Gojo.”

Higuruma holds your gaze as he narrows his dark eyes on you. He doesn’t smile, but you don’t expect him to, since Itadori says he’s like Nanami, serious, and hard to make smile.

“Yes,” he mutters nonchalantly. “I’ve heard about you. Aren’t you royalty or something?”

You share a small laugh and shake your head. “No, not at all.”

“Hm. But you are that killer right?” He doesn’t fear to spit out, making your smile fall right away. “The annihilator who has massacred innocent villages with her technique?”

Now all that curiosity to get to know him disappears. And all you’re left with is annoyance and cynical humor.

“You’re the one the older sorcerers call the fallen right? You’re her.”

He wants to push you? You won’t push back, nor will you crumble under the pressure of his judgment, no matter if he’s some lawyer, or whatever the hell he is. You’ll spit fire right out.

“What?” He asks with his eyebrows slowly furrowing as you start to laugh. “Is their suffering funny to you? Where’s your mercy?”

You smirk and then lean closer to him, making him look at you weirded out.

“What I did, I did for the good of my people,” you sneer coldly. “For the good of my children, and the future generation of sorcerers. Not that you would know of our suffering, or the way your beloved non-sorcerers treat my people and create the mess we have to kill for them. So if you’re looking for sympathy or a way to tear me down with “my crimes,”, I wouldn’t waste my breath if I were you. I believe in justice, I got justice. And I’ll do it again.”

Higuruma deepens his glare, but you just offer him a sweet smile and a sweet goodbye.

“Have a good day. I’ll see you around.” You wave at him and at last, join Kashimo outside.

“Are you ready, Gojo?” Kashimo finally gets to ask. “The first one to step out of the circle...” He pauses and points at the drawn-up circle around the both of you. “Loses.”

You stretch your arms and huff. “Sounds simple enough. And just so you know I won’t pull back.” You let him know.

He snickers as he swings his staff around in his hand to then point one end at you. “I never expected you to. And please don’t give into your humanity if you ever manage to hit me. Fight like a sorcerer or don’t fight at all.”

Oh well, someone's suicidal.

Nevertheless, you flash him a smirk before you drag one foot back and position yourself in a fighting stance that works best when using all your elements—Which is something you will do in this case, even if it is merely training.

However, from one moment to the next but without actually surprising you, Kashimo makes the first move by shooting a lightning strike at you from his staff.

It moves fast as expected, but you manage to actually duck it by swiftly spinning below it. When it gets past you you notice he can’t redirect it back to you, so it hits the tree behind you and cracks it in half.

“My turn,” you mutter before you pull water down from the sky, and manipulate the wind to spin around you as you quickly stand back to your given height. You then mix the water with the spinning air and shoot it out towards him like a fast-twisting cyclone.

Yet he swings his staff so fast that he breaks the cyclone in half and causes it to splash all around him. He then tries to overwhelm you and lunges forward to now shoot lightning from himself rather than the staff.

But from what Hakari told you he doesn’t have an unlimited amount of strikes, he needs to charge his lightning, so after this, he’ll continue with hand-to-hand.

Hm.

Fine, then you won’t duck it this time. Instead, you stomp your foot on the ground, causing a thick body of water to explode out all around you. You then flow the water up like a growing wave with elegant movements of your arms and let the lightning strike hit the water, which slows it down and starts to break it down. So before it can get out you shove the wave toward him.

Kashimo is clever though, he jumps high and flips over the wave. However, you can redirect your elements, you don’t have a limit, so as you spin around him to be across from him again and avoid being hit, you twist the water back around and manage to hit him right on his chest so hard he’s thrown back.

Yet as he gets close to the edge of the circle he manages to slide to a stop inches away from the line.

“How fun,” he mumbles smugly and doesn’t miss a beat, he moves towards you, but you have the advantage and the luck of not holding back, so you swing your arm and hit him with a wind slash.

Nonetheless, that’s what he needed to get close. Even if the slash hurts his torso, he gets close enough to surprise you with an uppercut to your jaw using his elbow. He then counters by swinging his staff over your knees, causing you to be shot with blinding pain as they both break. When he sees you hit the ground he pulls his staff back in an attempt to throw you out of the circle.

However, you ignore the pain and bask your arm with fire before you smash your fist into the ground and seep the flames in the dirt. You then quickly make the earth and fire burst out like a beautiful natural explosion that throws Kashimo back and makes him laugh when he hits the ground.

Because of course, he’s laughing after being hit, he’s an adrenaline junky.

“I charged up my lightning before just for you, Gojo” he shares as he pushes himself up and wipes blood off his lips and nose.

You flash him a smile as you heal your knees and slowly stand up. “Aw, you were thinking of me? How cute.” You taunt and make the dragon mark glow brightly as you prepare to attack, while lightning sparks around his hand before he points two fingers at you and shoots his beautiful lightning.

You’re prepared though and reveal a technique. “Elemental manipulation; Fire dragon.”

A large snakelike dragon made of red-orange flames blasts out of both of your palms and only grows large enough to counter Kashimo’s attack. It could grow bigger, but for now, you make it small to just blast fire out at the lightning bolt.

However, the lightning travels past the cursed energy killing flames, and hits the fire dragon through its mouth. But instead of traveling through the body of flames like Kashimo thought, the fire dragon does its job and kills the lightning strike. Instead of disintegrating the bolt like you thought, the lightning strike kills the fire dragon as well. They cancel each other out, causing a bright and beautiful explosion of fire and electricity that blinds you and Kashimo with its mix of bright blue and orange hues before the incredible force throws you both back.

Yet not enough to get either of you out of the fight. You both get close, triggering you to come up with a last move to determine the winner once and for all.

So without wasting any more time, you use the wind and shoot up to float in the sky, and Kashimo hits the end of his staff on the ground and shoots a bolt of lightning into the sky.

You proceed to manipulate large bodies of wind to pick up in speed and gather around you, causing the entire sky to darken and rumble as if an eerie disastrous storm approached. While Kashimo’s one bolt turns to a storm of lightning that crackles and shows flashes of your intimidating figure before you land on the ground so hard that a crater forms under your feet.

That same wind you aggravated flows down and starts forming a large orb over your fingertips pointed to the sky. Water you had so carelessly left abandoned rises off the ground and mixes with the orb made of wind. And to avoid causing any more destruction you avoid bringing the other elements into this, you leave this to the work of the gusting wind, and the surging water.

Thus to finally end this training spar, you blast the orb at Kashimo, and he shoots his lightning at you at the same time. And to try and avoid being hit you both try to swerve, but both of your attacks are too grande, from one moment to another you’re both hit and thrown back several feet.

One of you is drenched and coughing out the water invading their lungs as they heal all the deep cuts they suffered because of the wind's sharp gusts. While the other is basically seizing because of the lightning circulating their body. But one thing neither of you are, is upset. Once the lightning passes out of your body and you’re catching your breath on the ground, you’re the one that laughs now, and Kashimo, well he doesn’t regret wasting his time training with you.

Maybe he isn’t as bad as you painted him out to be. Is he still annoying? Yes, but…you had fun using your elements, it’s usually so hard displaying them at the level you used them today because of how destructive they can be to your surroundings and a person. But you didn’t need to hold back with him, so it was fun.

“I had fun,” you share as you get up to your feet.

Kashimo was already walking away, but stops and faces you. When you approach him you flash him a smile.

“Thanks.”

His eyebrows furrow and he shoots you a pointed look, but he sighs deeply and interjects. “You didn’t hold back…I see now where your student learned his determination and need to give his all.”

You grin and take that as a compliment. “Let’s do it again,” you suggest and walk away with your phone in hand, not realizing everyone inside the building was watching until you get close to the windows.

“Nice fight!” Takaba yells loud enough so you can hear him from inside.

You offer him a soft smile before you beam as you spot Satori on Satoru’s shoulders clapping proudly.

However, before you can acknowledge anyone else your attention is stolen by Choso’s message on your phone.

Choso: The sky got dark and we heard loud explosions. Your students refuse to turn back, is everything okay?

What a cute worrywart.

You: Just training with Kashimo, don't worry lover ;)

You send that first and then smirk as you follow up with something flirty.

You: Did you know lips could get lonely? I didn’t until now as my lips miss yours.

He takes a while to respond, but you know it’s not on purpose, you did your job. You got him flustered.

Choso: I’ll be back soon. Let’s hope this ache doesn’t kill us both.

You giggle and feel your heart skip a beat as you grow flustered too.

Choso: Oh and Kashimo?

He sends after, but you don’t feed his jealousy, you simply brush him off.

You: xoxo

——

*THE NEXT DAY*

It’s weird being back in your childhood home, especially side by side with your brother. It’s like stepping back in time when all you were was the second child, the scared daughter, and nothing more.

Sure you came back before, when you were 20, but that was different, and you were still young and stupid then. You’re old now, mature, stronger, a mother, a widow, and reunited with Satoru.

Not like it all actually matters when you come face-to-face with your father though. Because the moment your eyes met his, you felt like his fearful and immature daughter all over again. You can’t look him in the eyes even if you’re the one who has the high ground as you stand by Satoru.

“You have come back home to us, Clan Leader,” your father's voice brings you chills as he talks to Satoru.

“Hm.” Satoru hums and makes no effort to make this meeting professional. He doesn’t sit in his designated seat, or care to pay mind to the rest of his clan bowing to him. He’s not even wearing traditional clothing like Satori and you—But you blame that on his laziness rather than lack of care since you won’t be here long at all, and he and Shoko are taking Satori to the amusement park.

“All thanks to my sister,” Satoru lies. It was a group effort. “She basically died to get me back.”

You don’t give away your annoyance or the fact that he wasn’t telling the truth, you keep your composure and slowly raise your eyes off the ground to face them all, every single clan member gathered in this room. Not with that timidness you would face your clan before, there’s no innocent gleam in your eyes anymore. Your fire-kissed eyes basically set the room ablaze with your cold sinister glare—Even when you look at your father who still intimidates you.

“But it’s not why she’s here,” Satoru adds with amusement. “As some of you may know, she was never disowned. So this isn’t some announcement to lift a ban that was never on her, it’s more…to say that she will be an active member once again because of my chosen heir. Satori Geto. Her daughter.”

Satori balls the material of your sleeve as she grips onto your arm and hears the whispers spread around the room as some interest are sparked at the sound of the name Geto. While others look disgusted that Satoru points at a girl.

“Does the girl have cursed spirit manipulation?” Your father asks for himself and the other curious members.

“No,” Satoru brings their hopes down and makes your father immediately uninterested in his granddaughter.

“But she’s still a Gojo,” Satoru adds. “And since I don’t have children of my own, she’s the one set to inherit my title and everything that comes with it, as well as everything I own.” He smirks and rubs Satori’s head. “And it’s not up for discussion either if you have a problem,” his voice suddenly grows serious. “Deal with it, or if you’re feeling ballsy come face me. Got it?”

As improper as he just shared that, people still wouldn’t dare oppose him. Not because he’s their leader, but because of the power and strength he wields.

“All right everyone may go,” Satoru sounds relieved to end this meeting even if he didn’t address the very big fact that the Zen’ins are extinct except for Fushiguro and Maki, which bears the question, which other strong sorcerer clan will take their spot in the big three. You know it’s not really up to him, but he’s the clan leader and he still needs to address that problem and so many others, so the meeting was far from over.

Then again, whereas Satoru loves teaching and guiding the next generation of sorcerers, he doesn’t have much patience for all this. He relishes in the power the family name brings him, the money, in his technique, and how strong he is, but he never cared for his title as clan leader. Which leads you to wonder what you would have been like as a clan leader if you were given the privilege to have that title, and your clan weren't misogynist.

You unexpectedly turned out like the rest of them and don’t harbor any love for non-sorcerers, you’re more proper than Satoru is, you’re more responsible, and don’t think being a leader is a burden. You’re everything your parents wanted in their heir.

“Where should we take Satori first?” Satoru asks with excitement.

You peel your eyes away from your father's retreating figure and look at them with a feigned smile. “Why don’t you two go ahead I want to go see something else first.”

Satoru is about to tag along but he manages to detect the trouble behind your eyes and lets you have your time. “All right, but we’ll catch up. Come on, Sugar, I’ll show you some real cool stuff.”

Satori doesn’t argue, she leaves you to watch her and her Tiger cursed-spirit follow at Satoru’s side with excitement. It’s only once they’re both out of view that you walk over to your room.

You don’t expect it to still hold what you left behind. Your room is probably empty and everything you once owned was probably burnt by your parents or cousins, but you just have that urge to at least get near that door. It won’t take away the trauma you endured, but you’ve gotten this far, it’ll heal some of that pain your young self was left with.

Nevertheless, when you do reach that door you bring yourself to open it and find that you're walking into the past. Everything is like how you left it, it’s all untouched and dustless.

It makes you cry. You didn’t want to, but you can’t stop the tears, or that ache from turning to sharp paralyzing pain even if you had let go of that young girl long ago. And even if it’s all unrecognizable to your eyes, seeing everything as if you never left hurts a part of your soul.

It’s why after standing in silence for a few minutes you need to at least hear the voice of the man you love since you couldn’t bring him to provide you with the comfort you needed.

“Hello?” Choso answers after the first ring. “Y/N is everything okay?” He asks right away since he knew you didn't want to come after he let you rant last night about Satoru basically forcing you.

“I’m fine,” you whisper before you throw yourself on your bed and continue. “I just wanted to hear your voice.”

There’s a moment of silence, but you know it’s because Choso is blushing.

“I want to show you something,” you fill the silence and pull your phone away from your ear to click on the FaceTime button. And when the screen clears all you see is the inside of your boyfriend's ear. “Cho,” you chuckle. “Pull your phone back.”

“Oh,” he breathes out bashfully and then lets you see his handsome face.

“Look,” you squeal and show him a picture of you and Satoru when you were 6 and he was 7. “It’s little me and my brother. We were wearing coordinating Yukata’s.”

Choso smiles softly before he squints his eyes to look at the picture better. “I forget the eye color you have now isn’t the one you were born with.”

You turn the photo to look at yourself and muster a grin. “It’s crazy, isn’t it? I tend to forget now too. But anyway,” you breathe out and put the photo away to give him all your attention. “I came to my room and it’s the exact way I left it. There’s no dust or anything. The clothes are the only thing that’s gone, but everything else is the same; even my beloved Legolas posters.” You smirk proudly and admire your first-ever fictional husband.

“Hm…was it your brother?” Choso chooses to ignore you fawning over fictional men to ask what you were wondering too.

But, you have to believe it’s your brother. You don’t want to get your hopes up and think it was your mother.

“I think so,” you give your opinion quieter and with your smirk falling to a frown. “But it’s still strange. It’s been 11 years.”

“Yeah but you didn't stop being his sister,” he says softly.

“Yeah…I suppose.”

Choso frowns through the screen as he sees your deep frown and conflicted gaze, wishing from where he is that he could be there to hug you like he knew you wanted.

“Where are you?” You change the subject to avoid ending the call. “Are you still at home?”

“Oh, no, I came with Yuji. I’ll be here until it’s time for our date.”

You smile giddly and probe. “So you’re going to pick me up then?”

Choso smiles sweetly. “Of course, I won’t be the one driving because I can’t, but yes I will pick you up.”

Your heart swoons and before you can respond with something sweet two of your cousins walk into your room with glares they think are intimidating.

“Oh, Choso, honey, I’ll text you when I leave this place, all right?”

He doesn’t need to be with you to know that something unwelcoming appeared because he knows you in more ways than one. He sees the way your eyes focus past the phone and hardens to a glare.

“Is everything all right?” He asks with concern.

You flash him an assuring smile and nod. “Yep. Everything is all good. I’ll see you later.”

Before he can respond you hang up the phone and swing your legs over the bed to stand on your feet and look at your cousins with a smirk and a pointed glare.

“It’s stupid for you to show up here again,” one of them spats while they ball their fist.

You choose to be a tease and count them to point out the missing triplet. “You’re an incomplete set, what happened to the third?”

The second one seethes and steps forward with their jaw clenched.

“You’re a kinslayer,” the first one snaps at you as if that’s supposed to offend you.

“That term is outdated by a couple of centuries, don't you think?” You taunt them and strut forward to be close to them.

“You think you’re funny?” The second one rebuttals and takes a step towards you. “You killed our brother—”

“He came at me first,” you cut him off smugly and omit the rest of the story because it’s too long for right now. “I was in front of the fireplace and he attacked. I countered, but not because it was self-defense…” you trail off and snicker. “It was justice. The friends with him played with fire and got burnt.”

The first one grinds his teeth and gets his fist ready to try and attack.

Which is so adorable that he thinks he can hurt you.

However, he’s interrupted by your brother. “Do we have a problem here Akeno, Atsushi?”

Both men immediately back down, and that only makes your smirk that more taunting.

“No,” The first one, Akeno, mutters as he pierces his glare at you. “Clan leader.”

Atsushi shoots you one last rageful glare before he follows his brother out of your room.

“They weren't at the welcoming meeting,” you interject casually when it’s just Satoru, Satori, and you. “Will you punish them, “oh great leader”?” You mock him and walk back to sit on the edge of your bed

“No,” Satoru lets out with a sigh as he walks in.

“Is this your room mommy?” Satori asks with excited wonder.

“Yeah, take whatever you want,” you tell her and let her snoop around your room to get to know who you were when you were a teenager.

“What was that about?” Satoru refers to your cousins as he stops to admire the pictures on a picture board that hands on your dresser.

“Oh you know.” you shrug nonchalantly. “They’re mad because I broke their set.”

And he knew that.

“Was this…you?” You refer to your room.

“Nope,” he reveals causally, causing you to grow rigid and shocked. “It was mother. She refuses to clean out your room.”

Oh….

Oh.

This isn’t good for your already aching heart. This only perplexes you.

“Why?” You let out in a broken whisper.

Satoru looks back at you as if the answer isn’t obvious. But it isn’t to you. You thought she hated you for being weak, and for who you turned out to be.

Why doesn’t she hate you?

Hating her would be so much easier if she did.

“Where is Mother?” You ask curiously. “She wasn’t at the gathering either.

Satoru lets out a deep breath before he turns to face you. “Mother is sick. She’s been sick for a while now, but after I was imprisoned she got worse.”

You push yourself off the bed and can’t help but look at him with a pointed glare. “She’s sick? Why didn’t you tell me anything?”

Satoru rests his hands on his hips and shrugs nonchalantly. “I didn’t think you’d care.”

You part your lips to speak, but nothing comes out in your confusion. It’s like a part of you is upset that he didn’t at least mention something, as well as worried for the mother who bore you. But then another part of you can’t gather that much will to care either.

“She’s my mother,” you whisper and begin to gnaw on the tip of your nail. “Can…” you shouldn't, but you also want to. “Can we go see her?”

Satoru hesitates as he waits for you to change your mind, but when your head doesn’t rise to take your request back, he gives in. “Yeah, she’s here.”

You let out a deep sigh and nod slowly before you look over at your daughter snooping through photos on your vanity. “Come on Satori, let's go.”

The girl swipes something from the vanity and then runs after Satoru and you as you walk out of your room.

“Look, Mom,” she whispers excitedly and shows you the picture she snatched of Suguru and you when your relationship was very new—“it’s you and Daddy. And you had pink hair.”

You genuinely smile at the picture and nod before you give her some insight. “Yeah, we took that on his birthday. He came to meet my parents.”

Satori looks at the picture in complete awe for a long time before she carefully tucks it into her pocket.

“Do you like the grounds so far, Chipmunk,” you probe. “It’s changed a lot since I lived here, but this was still my home. Do you like it?”

“Of course, there's been remodeling,” Satoru cuts in teasingly. “A couple of years ago a section of our house burnt down.”

You smirk at the mention and press your daughter.

“Well.” She shrugs. “It’s nice, it’s very big, but guess what! Your dad has the same eye color you once had.”

You frown but hide your discomfort. “You met my father?” You ask and burn your glare on the back of Satoru’s neck so he knows you’re displeased.

“Yeah, he was nice to me even if he looks very mean.”

“She met father?” You ask your brother now in an agitated way that Satoru detects, but he does not take you seriously.

“Yeah, we ran into him, he didn’t chat much so don’t worry,” he brushes you off, even if him not telling you before is pretty upsetting.

However, since Satori is here you don’t pick a fight, you just exhale deeply and let it go. Besides, you then arrive at your mother's quarters.

“We’re going to meet grandma,” Satoru announces excitedly. “Is. That. Okay?” He pronouncates each word because he thinks he knows what’s grinding your gears, but he doesn’t have a damn clue and it only works to piss you off.

“Of course,” you sass him between gritted teeth. “I wouldn't be here if it wasn’t.”

“Hm. Just making sure.” He flashes you a smile and then walks in the room so casually, but you can’t match the beat of his drums, you stay frozen past the entrance and dig your nails in the palm of your hands as you try hard not to storm off this property.

“Mommy, are you okay?” Satori’s sweet voice snaps you from your stupor.

Through all the haze in your head, you didn’t even notice she had stayed behind with you rather than following her ever-so-beloved uncle.

“Oh,” you breathe out and assure her with a smile. “Yes. I’m fine.”

She’s like a breath of fresh air much needed in this suffocating place that lets you push yourself just enough to step inside but stop nonetheless behind a delicate wooden divider that blocks the sight of your mother, and of you to her. You only hear her voice as she speaks to Satoru.

“I was so worried I’d never see you again,” she’s basically weeping to him.

“Do you really think they could beat me?” Satoru tries to comfort her through the pain that’s so easily detectable in her voice.

“Y/N saved me,” he still omits the truth. “That’s why I'm here.”

“Y/N?” She asks, but you can’t make out what she feels this time, but you also don’t want to know. “Where is she?”

“She’s here. She’s in this room, but first, Mother, I want you to meet someone,” he says excitedly before you hear his footsteps approach.

“Will you come with me?” Satori asks as she knows what’s about to come.

But you can’t face your mother yet. You only faced your father because he was there amongst the ones welcoming Satoru, but your mother is different and you haven’t been able to build the strength to face her yet.

“Your uncle will be with you,” you hate to turn your daughter down. “I just need a minute.”

Satori pouts, but she doesn’t argue, she doesn’t understand why you’re acting so strange either, but she doesn’t question you. When Satoru appears she just easily finds comfort by holding his hand instead before he walks her behind the divider to show her off to your mother.

A mother you can’t see the face of when Satoru returns to her with a little girl holding his hand, a mother's breath you hear hitch when you hear their footsteps halt by her bed, and a mother you hear move before she asks a question with a gentle laugh.

“Is she yours?”

“No,” Satoru chuckles. “She’s y/n’s.” He announces and you hear silence from her end.

“Mother, this is Satori Geto, y/n’s daughter.” Your brother adds, and you hold your breath to hear her reaction better.

Yet there’s not a thing uttered until you hear Satori break the silence very shyly. “Hello.”

“Satori,” Satoru adds. “This is Junko. Your grandmother.”

“Your name means enlightenment,” you finally hear your mother address your daughter. “Just like Satoru’s. Actually, you have very similar names.”

“My Daddy chose my name,” Satori loves to share that piece of information.

“Hm, well he chose a perfect name,” your mother says…sweetly. You hear the honey oozing off her voice.

“Thank you,” Satori whispers.

Your mother then musters a laugh before she reminisces. “Your mother used to cling onto your uncle just like that when she was a little girl too, you know?”

The corner of your lips twitch to a smile but you don’t let it spread, you just start to gnaw on your nails again.

“Really? Was she my age?”

“How old are you?” Your mother asks.

“6,” Satori reveals with a bit more confidence now.

“Ah, then yes. Do you have a brother or a sister, little Satori?” Your mother is curious to know since Satori is the only one she sees before her

“Hm, I had two older sisters, but they’re dead,” Satori shares so casually, making your mother not respond right away this time. She’s quiet for a moment that lets Satoru finally excuse themselves.

“Well, I think we should get going. Y/N and I have things to do. I just came to let you all know I’m back and introduce this one to the clan.” He’s so dismissive and not at all as polite as he should be.

Not like you actually care when it comes to your parents, he just could have dismissed himself a lot differently.

“Oh I thought you would stay longer,” your mother interjects. “But I suppose duties call. It was an honor meeting you little Satori, I hope you come again. Perhaps I can have something to give you then.”

And she’ll love that.

“Really?” Satori asks as you expected, excited. You can practically hear her grinning.

“Yes. Just come again.”

“I will!” Satori exclaims. “Goodbye, Grandmother!”

“Goodbye, Satori,” you hear your mother's voice quiver now over the simplicity of Satori’s last word. And you know that if you could see her you would probably see her eyes get teary, but you stay behind the divider and wait for your daughter to come running to you.

“Mother did you hear I’m going to get a present!” Satori shares enthusiastically, so it makes it hard to keep a frown on your face.

“I heard. Are you ready to go now?”

“Are you?” Satoru interjects as he walks over to join you and your daughter.

“I,” you mutter and pause to look at the path that leads to your mother and heavily consider just walking away without seeing her. It would cause your heart less stress, but…you’re already here, and…she’s sick. If death comes for her tomorrow and you went on without confronting her after 11 years, then you would regret it. So you face Satoru with the choice to waste a few more minutes in this damned place.

“Just wait outside, I’ll be out in a minute.”

Satoru nods in comprehension and walks off with Satori, leaving you still behind that divider as you hesitate some more. Once again you want to just storm off, every cell in your body is yelling at you just to go, but you can’t, you can’t just go. So you take a few steps forward just to the point you’re able to peek past the divider and see her.

She’s much older, of course, her hair is peppered with gray spurts, but her wrinkles are still not a prominent thing. She could pass by as younger than she is if her exhaustion and illness didn't leave a clear mark on her face.

“She has your smile,” she breaks the silence without needing you to fully step out before her. “And your timidness.”

You clench your fists and exhale deeply before you step out past the divider and present yourself to her after a decade.

“Other than that she looks like her father.”

How is it so easy for her to speak to you? You can’t build up the courage or think of a word. You can barely look at her.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” she continues to try and get you to speak. “Losing not only one child, but two is a devastation a mother should never bear.”

You break away from the spot you stay glued to and slowly approach her. “Suguru and I adopted them,” you let her know. “But no matter the difference in our blood, and the name on paper, I still loved them as if they were my own.”

Your mother hums and when you get close to her side she’s able to see the change in your eyes. She’s able to see that the fearful and soft girl she once knew was gone and replaced by a stronger, more confident woman with even more radiating beauty that looks almost majestic.

“Y/N,” she whispers with tears rolling down her cheeks.

You push yourself forward and sit by her side which seems to let her think she’s allowed to touch you, but the moment her cold fingers make contact with your warm flesh, you slowly drag your hand away.

“Y/N,” her voice breaks as her eyes gleam brightly with tears. “Please forgive me,” she says since she can read your urgency to leave on your body. “I’m sorry.”

Her words hit you like a piercing blade to the heart, they hurt every single muscle and bring tears to your eyes. For so long that’s all you wanted to hear. You wished to hear her admit that the way they treated you was wrong, that she was wrong for letting them treat you the way they did. After all, you were her only daughter, her child, but now that you heard it coming out of her lips you can’t handle the weight.

It doesn’t matter that she’s sick, or that she’s weeping and pleading. You can’t forgive her either, you can’t love her like you once used to. She turned a blind eye and you got hurt because of it.

“I’ll let you see her,” is all you can gather to say. “I’ll let her come with Satoru if he wants to bring her, but I can’t say what you want to hear. No matter how many times I come back.”

You see her heart break at your words, her eyes express that deep ache, but you can't bring yourself to forgive her. You can work towards not hating her, but that’s the best you can do.

“I am sorry,” she whispers.

You swallow thickly and wipe away the tear that escaped past your eye. “I know,” you mumble before you get up and walk out.

“Let’s leave,” you say in a rush, and Satoru doesn’t protest or prolong your stay this time. You finally leave the damned place and only once you've made some distance between you and your family home can you rest your shoulders and let your racing heart ease to normal.

And it’s also after you’ve gotten away that you finally text Choso.

You to Choso: I’m finally out and I’m on my way home.

As expected Choso responds right away.

Choso: How was it? Are you okay?

You could ramble about your experience but all you want is to forget for now, so you deflect.

You: I’m fine, it was exhausting, but we can talk about it later.

Choso: We can have our date another day then I don’t want to overwhelm you.

You smile at his consideration, but just picturing him in formal attire, and playing out how your date could go is what kept you going today.

You: No, no! Please no. I’m looking forward to it, it’s what kept me going.

You: We’re having our date. You’re going to pick me up and we’re going to have the night of our lives today.

Choso: Okay. Good.

You grin and sigh with bliss.

You: I love you.

You just need to hear it—or read it, whatever.

Choso: I love you too. So much.

Choso: Can you talk? I want to hear your voice now.

You: Of course, I can :) but I won’t. It’ll make yearning for each other so much more intense don’t you think?

Choso: Are you teasing me?

You giggle at your phone and prove that it works because this interaction only makes your ache for him that much more intense.

You: Maybe but now you can recall my sweet voice from the moments I would talk in your ear. And picture my soft lips moving with each word.

You smirk and only a couple seconds pass before you see the three little dots as he writes his response, and then quickly sends it.

Choso: Maybe I should go home and we can go from there? I miss you.

You: Nope you’re picking me up remember? Xoxo.

——

*LATER*

It’s been a while since you’ve been on a date. With the last time being with your husband, a man you had known for a decade.

There were always date jitters even after 11 years because it was always exciting going on dates with Suguru, that never left, but this time it's different because it’s with someone else. This date with Choso is the first, and even if you’ve already skipped ahead and had sex, multiple times, there’s always something so intimate about a date. About it just being the two of you, that's especially more intensified on the first date.

You honestly feel nauseous. But that’s maybe because you have yet to see him. Knowing he should pick you up soon has your anticipation all heightened.

You just need to breathe.

Breathe.

Nevertheless, the doorbell rings and you get startled, but super giddy too.

“Wish me luck worm,” you speak to your worm cursed spirit, who just tilts its head before it watches you leave with your desired shoes in hand.

Once you reach the door you drop the shoes and slide them on before you smooth out your long black skirt and open the door to see him, your beloved Choso at the doorstep with his dark brown hair down, a bouquet of red tulips in his hands to greet you with, and a sweet smile on his face to ease your nerves.

“Choso,” you greet with endearment.

“Y/N,” his breath hitches, and his kind brown eyes widen, before his eyes roam your body as he takes in every inch of you in your expensive beautiful black two-piece set to engrave the sight of you in his memory. “These are for you.”

You take the bouquet from his hands but instead of walking in to put them in a vase, you jump on him and trap him in a loving embrace he returns with no hesitation.

“You look absolutely beautiful,” he whispers in your ear. “I’m lucky to have you as my date.”

You seep in his fresh and very outdoorsy musk through your nose before you giggle and pull away, but press your hands on his chest and check him out from head to toe, seeing at that instant that he's wearing new boots, and a new everything actually. He looks quite expensive which lets you know he had help picking out what he’s wearing.

“And you look very handsome,” you compliment him as you fix the collar of his coat. “I just might not let you out of my sight tonight or else they’ll steal you from right under me.”

Choso’s cheeks grow a light shade of red and his eyes flicker down, but they quickly find themselves back on you to continue admiring you like one would a beautiful painting or the moon.

“Let me just put these in some water and then we can go okay?” You let him know before you rush inside to do what you said and return to him to finally head out.

On your way to the restaurant, you find yourselves both nervous and just stealing glances at each other, or holding lingering stares that show both of your desires for one another, and your eagerness to fast forward this evening and pounce on each other to start your most intimate act.

You unknowingly both dreamed of just having a round of sex in the car, but neither of you spoke it into existence because you had a chauffeur. So all you comforted yourselves with was holding each other's hand and resting your head on his shoulder to take in his presence after the chaotic morning you had.

“Is this what you went to buy yesterday?” You finally ask him considering he was very guarded about everything last night when you asked.

“Yes,” Choso says with a soft laugh. “Kirara and Hakari helped me pick out a couple of things, and ultimately this outfit. Yuji tried, but uh it seems he’s a bit clueless about how to dress, or at least that’s what Hakari and Kirara told him.”

You chuckle. “Sounds like them.”

“You smell good by the way,” Choso murmurs against the top of your head before he presses a gentle kiss on it. “That’s my favorite fragrance of yours.”

You smile softly and thank him by pressing a kiss on his knuckles.

“We should take a picture together,” you suggest, and don’t wait to take your phone out and take a couple of pictures before you grab his phone and attempt to take more on his to give his camera roll some company.

However, before you can go to the camera app you come to a halt when you see that he has a picture of Itadori and you on his lock screen. Only it’s a very terribly off-guard one of Itadori, and your picture is one of you sleeping. And he doesn't have them as one single picture, no, he collaged them on a grid, which…ugh!

Your heart can’t take it, he's too cute.

“Oh baby,” you coo at his attempts. “Did you do this?”

Choso clears his throat. “Yeah, I didn’t have a picture of Itadori and you so I tried to make it work.”

Your heart leaps and as cute as this attempt is, you first take a picture of him and you together—Which turned out great might you add. You’re smiling and resting your cheek on his shoulder, and he’s not looking at the camera, he was captured looking at you, but his smile is soft and his eyes reflect his love for you.

“This,” you roll out and help him format his phone. “Picture of us will be your lock screen. And this…” you trail off and go on your phone to send a picture to his phone that arrives right away.

“This,” you continue and save an off-guard picture you took of Itadori and him laughing with each other just the other day. “Is your home screen.”

“I like that photo,” he says softly. “It’s better than mine.” He laughs at himself.

“I intended to send it yesterday but I completely forgot. It’ll work as a placeholder until we take a good picture of him and you.” You tell him before you grin and shake his arm. “I got it! A family portrait in matching winter sweaters. That would be so cute.”

Choso chuckles softly and goes shy. “It sounds great if he wants that.”

You tilt your head and look at him with a comforting gaze. “Cho, I’m sure he will. You’re his brother. He’s starting to appreciate that. I see it.”

Choso looks down at your hand caressing his forearm and sighs softly. “Step by step, right? That’s what you said.”

“Yeah.” You assure him before you lean in and press a kiss on his lips. “I guess we won’t be having our first kiss at the end of the date.”

“That’s a ridiculous courtesy anyway,” he plays along with you. “How could any man look at someone so beautiful and not kiss them? It’d be like dying of dehydration.”

Your face goes ablaze and you giggle before you can't hold back anymore, you make out with him and fill your hunger with just the taste of his lips. You ache for more but you somehow manage to think clearly and limit yourself to just kissing until you finally arrive at the restaurant. Which thankfully has your favorite secluded booth open.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” Choso interjects almost hesitantly. “How was your visit to your family home?”

You share a nervous laugh and shake your head. “How about I tell you tomorrow?” You ask as you look up from the menu. “I don’t want to spoil the night.”

Choso’s breath hitches and he immediately expresses his guilt and regret for trying to bring it up. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

You reach over and take his hand. “Don’t apologize it’s okay. It really is.” You smile at him before you grin at the menu. “Now, why don’t we focus on what we should eat? There’s so much for you to try, but there’s just so little appetite, hm,” you tap your chin and then point out to different things he should try before you close your eyes and try to picture your perfect meal.

“What are you doing?” Choso gets curious.

“Picturing my food. Should I get some appetizers before my ramen? And what about dessert?” You mumble and then open your eyes to look at him wide-eyed and eager. “We should get some ice cream after.”

“You’ll get cold,” he points out.

You click your tongue in agreement so you then come up with something else that’s desirable. “Boba? Or a coffee?”

Choso laughs at you but you don’t find humor in your indecisiveness, you’re being serious.

“Cho, I’m serious.”

“We can get whatever you want,” he offers no help whatsoever.

“Y/N,” your name is called out in a sing-song voice. And when you look over you see the owner of the restaurant.

“Mrs Kaho,” you greet.

She sets down a bottle of sake that you didn’t order and looks around the booth before she probes. “Where’s my favorite customer.”

You smile at her. “She’s spending some quality time with her uncle and her aunt today.”

“Aww well, you bring her next time.” She says and looks at Choso now with a faint taunting smile. “No Nanami today? Did he finally find a girlfriend? If not I have a niece who just got divorced. They’d compliment each other.”

You choose not to dive into the truth tonight so you have to lie for your sake and the sake of this night. “No Nanami today. But I brought my boyfriend, Choso.”

Mrs. Kaho narrows her eyes on said man and then grins before pouring him the sake she had just brought. “You’re a handsome fella.”

Choso’s cheeks flush and he fiddles with his thumbs. “Oh thank you.”

“It’s good y/n found you, she’s too young and beautiful to be a widow,” she doesn’t hold back from saying. “I feared she’d end up alone all her life.”

You laugh as you shake your head at her daring comment, while Choso smiles at you as he gives her a response. “I’m glad I found her too.”

Mrs Kaho pats his shoulder with praise and finally takes your orders before leaving right away since she said if she stayed any longer she would end up stealing your night by talking with you.

Once you’re alone though the space between Choso and you is quiet. It’s a comfortable silence, and one you almost want to keep because it gives you time to just simply admire him under the soft light dangling over the table, and see the way his brown eyes reflect the sun's hue without needing to be out. They’re so bright and rich, so perfectly brown. And his hair! It looks so soft as it drapes over his neck. And his lips are a paleish pink, thin, but almost always pouty. It makes you want to just kiss it away, they’re so inviting and soft. His skin is soft too and he does nothing specific to have it that way.

He looks nonchalant, but not to you, not anymore, you see every emotion rushing through behind his eyes, in the small and simple movements of his body. Which probably sounds crazy to anyone who doesn’t know you, you probably sound obsessive considering how long you’ve been dating, but after those 19 days of hiding out, living with an ancient sorcerer underground, and now living together, how could you not know how to read him? Or memorize every single detail on his pale face.

If someone asked you to paint him, you would be able to do it blind.

Which…is terrifying. Loving him so deeply scares you because of your current circumstances. You don’t want to lose him because that will truly crush you, but with each running second you are glad to have the privilege to love him too.

“Y/N,” Choso calls out and catches you staring when he drifts his eyes to you.

“Hm?” You probe softly as he swallows back nervously as if he caught you admiring for the first time.

“I…I have something for you,” he shares and reaches in his coat pocket to pull out a small red box decorated with a white bow, and a tag that you see has your name on it when he hands it to you.

“A present?” You quiere giddly. “You shouldn’t have.”

“I wanted to get you something,” he rebuttals and watches you with his breath caught in his throat. “I wanted you to own something that I gave you since I had yet to give you something.”

You smile at him with awe and can't argue with that so you give into your curiosity and undo the white bow. Before you can open it you flash him a grin and then close your eyes as you pull the lid off to not spoil the surprise right away. Once nothing else is blocking what he gifted you, you open your eyes, and gasp softly at the beautiful sight.

“Oh Choso,” you muse and pull out a golden heart locket necklace that's decorated with small white diamonds around your October birthstone. “This…” you trail off and look at him with tears in your eyes.

“Turn it around before you open it,” he instructs before you can slide over and kiss him.

“Okay,” you breathe out shakily, and when you do what he says you find yourself with more tears filling your eyes that make it hard to read what was inscribed on the metal. So you wipe away the pesky tears and hold back for now to read the small words.

“For my sun, my moon, my beloved. My y/n.”

You laugh blissfully and keep holding back your tears because if that’s what's on the back then what’s inside is probably only more heart-wrenching.

And alas you stand corrected when you see a small little heart-shaped picture of your students and kids together. All five of them are forever cherished in that frame; Hakari, Kirara, Satori, and your twins, your girls, Nanako and Mimiko.

“I,” you cry. “Oh,” you gasp and cover your mouth as you handle your disbelief.

“Choso,” is all you can say. All your words are lost.

“Do you like it?” He makes sure to ask even if the tears ruining your makeup answer his question.

“Yes,” you mewl and nod at him before you drag yourself around the booth to throw your arms around him. “I love it. Thank you, my love.”

Choso twists around to wrap his arms around you even if it’s an uncomfortable position.

“I love you,” you murmur and tilt your head up to kiss him. And even if you are where you are you move slowly and savor the taste of lips so when you pull back you’re content with what you got for now.

“Could you help me put it on?” You ask and turn around to give him access to your bare neck. “Now,” you add while he very delicately hooks the necklace around your neck. “All I need is a picture of you on that empty spot.” You smile and wipe away the last tears rolling down your cheek.

“I'm sure someone else can fill the spot, like, your brother.” He says making you snort and laugh.

“As if. No thanks.”

You would say he could relate because he has brothers, but he can't. His love for his brothers is too pure.

“No, I want you,” you speak sweetly and turn around when he finishes to kiss him one more time.

“Now,” you say smugly and pull back to reach for your bag. “Since great minds think alike, I actually got you something too.”

Choso shifts in his seat and watches you more intently now as he actually grows nervous as well as curious.

“You shouldn’t have y/n,” he really means that. You love gifts so you actually loved that he got you something. You actually expected something smaller but still picked out with love, or even a ring, but he really surprised you.

“I wanted to,” you brush off his modesty. “I hope you like it.”

You hand him a small box as well and beam at him.

“Open it,” you press eagerly and start fiddling with the rings you have around your fingers.

Choso exhales deeply as he hesitates before he opens the box and gasps with shock. Even more so than yours.

“Sweetheart,” he says softly but also kind of in a scolding manner since he doesn’t agree that you should waste money on him.

“Pull it out,” you encourage him, but he hesitates once again before he wraps his fingers around the silver chain and pulls out a silver rectangular pendant dangling at the end that has a dragon carved on the front.

“A dragon,” he muses. “It reminds me of you.”

You flash him a grin and swoon over the fact that he thinks of you, but that’s not the most important part. He almost misses what you had transcribed on the back, but before you can guide him to it he catches the cursive and holds the pendant still, finding his breath escaping him once again when he reads all his brother's names on the back.

“If I got one of their names wrong, let me know,” you interject as his lips quiver and tears fill his eyes. “The lady that helped me said it can be fixed.”

As if it was possible the love he has for you in his eyes only grows more, and unlike you who found it easy to embrace him, he can’t even move with how shocked he is. So you lean over and embrace him to comfort him.

“I love you, thank you so much for loving me, Choso,” you whisper in his ear for only him to hear.

“Thank you for letting me,” he manages to whisper back. “And thank you for this gift. It’s spectacular. Thank you.”

You pull back and kiss him again before you press your forehead on his and take his chain to put it on him.

“Who would’ve guessed huh?” You add with amusement and pull back. “It’s like we read each other's minds.”

“It seems we did,” he teases. “But now I don’t know how to thank you beyond simple words.”

You smirk and lean over to whisper teasingly in his ear. “I can think of a couple of ways.”

Choso swallows thickly and meets your gaze with his pupils dilated before he laughs at you and presses a kiss on your cheek.

“You’ll have to feed your stamina first then,” he remarks, making you gasp and chuckle.

“Choso!” You pretend to scold him. “How dirty of you.”

He smirks and you can’t help but laugh some more and then dive into more lighthearted humor that makes you both laugh to the point it’s hard to breathe. You almost forget about the food until it comes and that’s all you can think about until it’s done.

After that, after you’ve enjoyed your meal, and dessert (mostly you), each other is all you can think about. The warmth of your hands as you have them intertwined together. The sound of your breaths as you enjoy a quiet stroll towards the next destination Choso had planned out for tonight. And the simplicity of each other's presence.

You could think about the intimacy of each other's lips, of wanting to find an escape to have a quick pleasurable moment, but as of now, as you walked through the chilly evening, all you thought about was the joy of having one another.

“Did you like it?” You finally remember to ask. “I mean I did promise a good meal, so was it good? And say the truth it won’t hurt my feelings.”

Choso lets your hand go, forcing your palm to be slammed with the cold running air. But just as you’re going to ask what he’s doing he pulls his coat off and carefully drapes it over your shoulders to provide you more warmth since he knows how cold you get.

“Thank you Choso,” you whisper and offer him a sweet smile before you take his hand again and repeat your question. “So tell me.”

Choso meets your gaze and his lips tug to a small grin. “I’ll say this.” He clears his throat, making your eyebrows knit together. “I won’t let you eat it alone. If you’re committed I am too.”

He remembers your joke!

“Great!” You laugh and gently nudge him to the side before you hug his arm. “You remembered.”

Choso’s grin turns smug and he nods gently.

Soon thereafter you arrive at the spot where the room is all covered in screens to make you believe, in this instant, that you’re in the deep blue depths of the ocean watching the sea creatures swim all around you. And considering the room was rented by the hour you paid more to use it as long as you wanted and be given the privacy you needed; so no security cameras on, and a locked door. Choso insisted on paying the rest, but you beat him to the punch.

“I’ve been meaning to ask, why the ocean?” Choso asks as he admires you watching a pod of whales with your eyes glimmering with awe.

“I don’t know, maybe it’s because I can manipulate water,” you muse and smile as the whales start to sing. “Or well I do,” you clarify and drift your eyes to him. “It’s beautiful for one, especially in the most isolated parts of the world where all you see is water, because at night when the water is calm it’s like being in space. The way they reflect on the water is beautiful. But that’s not it, the ocean is also mysterious, it surrounds us, and personally, it holds the most beautiful animals in this world,” you murmur and grin brightly as a whale swims around you behind all the screens that surround you.

“People are like the ocean in some ways if you think about it,” you continue. “We’re rageful, deep, mysterious. Beautiful. Our lives go up and down like waves, and most importantly we can be ugly too, terrifying, like some parts of the ocean.”

Choso tries to answer with words, but all he responds with is a soft hum as he’s completely captivated by the beauty of your words, by the way, you smile so beautifully at the school of blue and black fish as if they could see you.

“Somethings wrong with us,” you point out and finally take a seat on the blankets Choso brought so you could comfortably enjoy the sight of the scenery.

“What is it?” Choso probes as he mirrors you and sits beside you with the inability to keep his hands to himself, or his eyes off you. He needs to be touching you, he needs to be looking at the most beautiful thing in this room, and to him that’s you.

“We tend to view the world behind screens or illusions, or whatever Tengen made us see underground,” you share with a laugh and pull your hand from under his to instead lay your head down on his lap. “Once this fighting is done, once our lives have calmed down we will see the world. Or parts of it anyway.” You grin. “Since the world is big. But I digress. You, me, Satori, Itadori…” you make sure to name him because that’s one of the most important people in his life. “And my students will see the stars in a place where it feels like we’re in space. We’ll see ice caps that polar bears play on, and then the most beautiful ocean.”

Choso laughs softly and gently caresses the scar across your torso with his thumb since it’s exposed by what you’re wearing.

“I would like that,” he commits to your plans, causing you to beam at him. “What else do you want?” He proceeds to ask in a very gentle manner.

You raise your brow and poke him. “What do you want? What do you want to do?”

Choso shakes his head softly and his smile only seems to soften more, making the gleam in his eyes shine brighter. “I have what I want. My brother’s safe and protected with Yuji. I have Yuji who sees me as his brother, and you. I don’t need anything else. But you,” he whispers and lifts his hand to start caressing your cheek. “What do you want, my love? Say it and I’ll give you the world.”

You giggle and lean into his touch to press a kiss on his palm before you answer. “I want to learn how to paint. I see all these beautiful paintings at museums, and online and I’m jealous of the skill. I want to learn. But you can’t buy me skill.”

“No,” he chuckles. “I could get you the things to get you started though.”

You smile. “You can be my model.” You suggest teasingly making him scoff shyly before he continues to press.

“Anything else?”

You let out a deep breath and feel your grin soften to a smile as you think about the next thing. “A sunroom, only instead of clear glass windows, I want a sunroom made of only stained glass windows.”

Choso’s eyebrows knit together making his confusion plain to see. “Stained windows?” He asks for clarification. “Why would you want dirty windows?”

You stare at him in silence for a moment before you sit up and burst out laughing. “Oh, my sweet, sweet love. No,” you draw in for air and grab his face to clarify yourself. “Stained glass is…uh, colored glass. I want colored glass so when the sun is out, the room is basked in beautiful dancing colors.”

Choso doesn’t seem to understand that explanation either so you show him an example and he then gets it.

“Oh. Oh, well now that’s something I can get you,” he says now. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

“You’re cute,” you coo and lean in for a kiss that you don't have to pull away from at that instant. You move slowly, and hold him close, letting him indulge in open-mouth kisses that he slips his tongue into and lights your body on fire with desire.

Yet as you start rubbing your hands on his chest and work them down to pull his shirt off, he pulls back with a sharp breath.

“Sorry,” he whispers against your swollen lips. “Not yet.”

You playfully roll your eyes and try to push him away, but as your fingertips hit his chest he actually catches your wrist and pulls you back towards him, to the point your lips are grazing over each other’s.

“Dance with me,” he says and stands up, leaving your lips once again cold without the company of his next to yours, or on yours.

However, this time you don’t mind. Your eagerness gets the best of you and you accept his offer.

“You didn’t learn with someone else did you?” You tease him whilst he remembers where to put his hands. Albeit, this time you guide one hand on your waist down to grab your ass.

Choso of course blushes even if he’s seen you naked, shares the same bed, and takes showers with you.

“No I just remembered from last time,” he explains as he lets a song play on his phone that wasn’t the same one as before, but romantic nonetheless. “And,” he adds while you start to dance. “Remember. I have knowledge of things, I just haven’t lived those things myself.”

“I know,” you assure him. “I was teasing.”

He sighs with relief and laughs at himself for a moment before he meets your gaze with a small frown.

“With this battle we’re fighting most likely concluding next month,” he shares right as you were going to ask what got him down. “All I want is for you and Satori to go far away. Somewhere not remotely close to Japan.”

“Choso,” you whisper your protest, but he cuts you off and explains himself softly.

“I almost lost you more than once. I don’t want to lose you for good. I can’t lose you. Last year after I saw you, you’re all that I could think about, you gave me hope after a century of darkness and thinking I would forever be stuck as I was. And when I saw you again in Shibuya,” he says and makes you both dance a lot slower. “All I wanted was you. To be near you, to protect you from all the evil in this world. That means this. So please just think about it.”

You let out a deep sigh and don’t comfort him by saying that you will think about it. You can’t lie to him because your mind is made up. Even if you have a reason to stay out of the fight to come, how can you betray yourself too? Ever since you lost a part of yourself to that non-sorcerer who tortured you, all you wanted was to help the next generation of sorcerers; you wanted to protect your people. You can’t do that by avoiding the fight, so your answer is clear and it has been for a while.

“Choso I can't and I won’t, I'm sorry,” you do explain yourself sweetly. “My goal is to help the next generation of sorcerers, to help our people. I can’t do that by hiding and letting others risk their lives. I know you’re just trying to look out for me, I appreciate your sentiment, but I can’t betray myself. And no matter how much you plead, I won’t change my mind. I’m sorry.”

Choso blinks repeatedly in disbelief before he drops his head and stops dancing, making you take his jaw and tilt his head up.

“I won’t let you just dedicate yourself to protecting me either,” you explain. “But I’m strong. I know that.”

Even in your moments of doubt, in the back of your head, you know that to be true. “Even if I had my close encounters with death, next time won’t be the time I die either. I will live for my girl, for my people, my family, and you. I will live so I can continue loving you. Do you understand?”

His eyes fill with tears as he nods softly.

“Good,” you murmur with a sweet smile before you wrap your arms around his neck and lay your head on his shoulder to continue swaying to the music chest to chest.

However, you don’t last long in that position because Choso then pulls back and surprises you by spinning you away from him, and then quickly spinning you back and dipping you ever so carefully so as to not drop you.

“Choso!” You giggle with surprise, and he pulls you back up and presses you close to his chest with a grin.

“What a lovely surprise,” you murmur against his lips as you can’t help but keep glancing at them.

“Did you like it?” He asks with a hint of smugness behind his voice.

“I loved it,” you assure him and lean in to close the gap left between your lips, but stop since you do want to keep dancing with him with your head on his shoulder.

However, Choso is the one who can’t wait this time, he slams his lips on yours and takes no time to slide his hands up to secure your face against his by grabbing your cheeks.

Many other times you pull back to laugh in surprise at his eagerness or smile at him, but this time you fan your passionate flames and kiss him back with hunger. As if it was the first time, or you were one of these horny couples from the old times who had been aching for a kiss, but could only feed your desires with longing stares and stolen touches until now.

You should hold back since you are in a semi-public place, but there’s no windows here, you paid to lock the doors, and shut down the cameras, so no, you don’t hold back, you guide him to sit, and straddle him before you slither your hands to the back of his head and grab a fistful of hair.

Choso is so lost in your passion that he lets out a pleased groan that makes his lips break away. But he’s only off you for a second, he doesn’t even catch his breath before he presses a kiss on the corner of your mouth and leaves a wet trail of kisses down to your neck.

You find that those kisses burn you up more so you can’t help but moan softly in his ear, while you work your hands down to the hem of his shirt to pull it off without protest, breaking the connection of his lips on your neck. Yet you don’t go long without the feeling of his lips on you, you grab his jaw and lean down to kiss his lips again.

This time Choso slowly roams his hands down to your back to grab your hips for a moment before he brushes his hands over your torso, fueling your fire. He then caresses your breast over your top, making your breath shudder, and then lands where he desires, on your cheeks to pull back.

“No,” he says between heavy breaths. “I want to be on you.”

You smile with relief after thinking he was going to break this apart to be considerate.

“Wait,” he blurts before he can flip you around. “Not here. We can’t here.”

You peer back and double-check that the door is locked before you look up at the camera and make sure that the light is not flashing. “We can if no one finds out. No one has to know,” you tempt him in a silky voice that makes the hairs on the back of his neck rise.

“Just one round?” He asks and leans in to touch your lips with his, letting you both feel your breaths unfurl over the top of your lips.

“One round,” you reassure him and draw in a deep breath before you grin brightly and let him flip you around so you’re on your back with him between your legs.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers with his eyes darkened with desire.

“You are too,” you redirect, making a timid smile break on his face. “Now kiss me or I will flip you around and ride you.”

He snickers and talks against your lips, making you squirm. “Save it for home.”

You try to laugh, but you’re so lost in your desire at the promise of more that it comes out more like a breathy moan.

“I hate making love to you fast,” he keeps talking. “But it has to be done, or—”

“Shh,” you cut him off before you lift your head to trap him in a heated kiss.

Choso laughs in your kiss but doesn’t let it last long because he’s then moving in sync with you, and feeling his member hardened.

He usually likes to explore your body with his lips and his tongue, but there was no time now, he saves that for later and instead helps you take your skirt off. And instead of working to reach your high, he stops to admire part of the red lace lingerie that you wore for him.

“You,” he breathes in and lets his eyes roam your body. “You are a piece of art.”

You laugh softly and grab his hands to press his fingers on your panties so he can pull them down and see your soaking pussy. However, he shakes his head and lets your hands go to instead grab your leg and lean towards it.

“What are you doing?” You probe and look over by propping your elbows on the ground and lifting your head.

However, he doesn’t say his answer, he responds by kissing the side of your knee and slowly grazing his lips up. Which is a move that steals your breath and leaves you like a puddle.

“Keep them on,” he says against your thigh.

You shiver and smile like a lovestruck fool.

“Choso please,” you groan and grab his shoulders. “Any more of that and I’ll cum without you inside me.”

Choso chuckles and moves back over you, but not to kiss you, or take your top off, he’s too impatient to sink into your warmth to worry about stripping you. Instead, he presses a kiss over your clothed clit and then hooks his fingers on your panties and moves them aside, realizing at that moment how wet you are for him.

“Beautiful,” he praises you and presses a kiss on your bare clit before finally moving up to let his face hover over yours. “Ready?” He makes sure to ask.

You nod softly and initiate a slow and sloppy kiss while he lines his cock with your entrance and lets the tip of his cock kiss you before he very, agonizingly slowly sinks into you.

And you can’t say he isn’t usually slow, because he is, every time. Even if you are both eager he likes to feel every inch of your walls with his cock, as if trying to map it out. He likes to see your jaw slowly go aslack, like now, as his fat girth slowly splits you open, and your needy pussy swallows him whole to the point he can’t push in any further.

“Choso,” you cry in his mouth as you feel his tip, every vein on his member, and his smooth cock itself grazes your gummy walls.

“One round,” he reminds the both of you and grabs the back of your knee to lift your leg and hook it over his shoulder before he pulls out until his tip is the only thing your pussy is embracing.

“Choso,” you whine, but he shuts you up by pressing his lips on yours and taking in you for a kiss he slides his tongue into.

And even if you haven’t been having sex long he already knows everything you like. He knows how to make you scream, he knows what to do to make you close your eyes, and scratch his back. He knows how to tease you, and how to make you squirt (which he just learned the other day). He knows every detail about you just like you know every detail about him.

So considering you are on a time crunch he uses what he knows to make this fast, and that's going slow. You like it fast, and rough because you last longer that way, but this way you can’t hold back, it’s too agonizing. So he slowly slides back inside you, causing you to break away from the kiss to tilt your head back and roll your eyes back.

“Choso,” you plead. “Please.”

Said man plants kisses on your neck and pulls back halfway before sliding in and slamming the tip hard against you.

You groan and find stability by holding his muscular shoulder, going unaware of his left hand until you feel his fingers run a strip over your clit before he starts to rub circles over it, bringing you close to the edge already.

“Choso,” you moan to the screens long forgotten and pull your hands away to dig your nails on the floor.

He whines at the feeling of your fluttering pussy around his cock, and even if he’s starting to lose himself in the feeling of you, he manages to find your hand and interlaces his fingers between yours before he starts thrusting in and out just a bit faster. Yet not fast enough, he’s still teasing you by moving slowly and rubbing his thumb on your clit.

You try to meet his thrusts to pick up the speed, but he presses his body closer to you and traps you under him.

“You feel incredible,” he praises you and groans. “My beautiful girl. Mine.”

You find his lips and match the speed of his thrusts with your lips, feeling him groan against your mouth as you tighten around him, your pussy fluttering and your leg pressing closer against him as you near your release since he’s being a damn tease.

“Choso,” you mewl and hold his gaze to bat your lashes at him. “Please rougher.”

Choso smiles and drops his head on the crook of your neck to not give in to what you want since he tends to do what you asked for with a simple bat of your lashes and a look at those eyes he loves so much.

“So—Mhm,” you groan and squeeze your eyes shut as he starts hitting your g-spot. “Good. You’re doing good.”

Choso chuckles. “Don’t,” he can barely mutter between breaths as he feels his release creeping in.

“So close,” you announce and he picks up his pace, making lewd noises of skin slapping as he chases his release and helps you find yours.

He doesn’t hold back anymore, he starts drilling into you so hard tears start to form in your eyes, and you arch your back off the ground, but it's too late for you. Your stomach twists and you're a moaning mess along with Choso who sucks on the skin of your neck and sloppily rubs your clit now.

“I’m cummimg!” You cry out and clutch onto his hand.

Choso slides his lips off your neck and meets your gaze. “Me too—me too,” he shares and goes back to slowly rocking his hips, but that triggers you. A shiver runs down your spine and from one moment to the next you see stars as you squeeze tightly around him and squirt all over his cock.

Choso fucks you through your release and lets out a mess of whines and groans as he can’t hold back anymore, he comes undone, and his seed spills inside you. Rope after rope painting your walls before it leaks out of your hole and mixes with yours now pooling on the once clean blanket.

“Fuck,” you murmur and let his hand go to gently caress his back as he pulls out before he goes two more rounds.

“You were perfect,” he whispers on your lips before he gives you a chaste kiss and then crawls down to drop his head on your chest and rest on you.

“That was,” you chuckle and throw your arm over your eyes. “Great. I really don’t like it when you go slow though.”

“I know.” He retorts smugly.

You sigh with pleasure nonetheless and take advantage that he’s on you to brush your fingers through his hair.

“We should go home,” he says and rubs circles on your side.

“Yeah.”

You pull your arm off your eyes and use both hands to brush his hair while you start to watch the ocean once again through the screens above you.

“Choso,” you can’t help but get all mushy as you come off your high.

“Hmm?” He queries.

You swallow thickly and smile as you see a manta ray swim past you.

“Do you want to know why I love you?” You continue with a honey-filled voice.

“Yes,” he says and lifts his head off your chest to meet your gaze with curiosity.

You grab his shoulders and guide him up to his knees as you sit up without breaking eye contact. “I love you because you have a good heart. Because you’re beautifully human even if you still doubt it. Because as my world went dark when I lost those I loved, you never left my side. And you haven’t since Shibuya. That’s why I love you.”

A wobbly smile tugs on his lips but tears don’t escape, he presses a gentle kiss on your lips before he presses his forehead against yours, and cups your cheeks.

“And you,” he interjects. “Have a strong heart. The strongest I know. You kept fighting after losing your daughters and your best friend. It would've been impossible for a lot of others, but you kept your heart strong. I admire your strength.”

Rather than kissing him, you stay as you are, you smile and grab his jaw, and bask in the intimacy of the moment.

No one could ruin this moment or change your love for him. Ever…

A/N- You best know Choso has that ring on the ready!

Tagged- @deniseabad1928 @secondary-character-25 @starlightanyaaa @notsaelty @d4rno @moonnime @kodzukein @yozora7154 @heijihattorisgf @elegantweirdorchest @natakina

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lovelettersforthedamned · 11 months ago

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Priorites: Part 2

--genre: angst, hurt/comfort, fluff.

--pairing: matt murdock x gn!reader

--word count: 0.7k

--warnings: anxiety (from both matt and reader), angst, kissing, mention of scars.

oh this gif kills me and then pisses on my grave.

requested by: @blackhawkfanatic

Maybe you were an idiot, or maybe you just wanted to see what Matt could come with by the time he came home. Nevertheless, you stayed, for whatever reason.

You knew Matt would be out for a few hours at least, so you busied yourself in the meantime. You didn’t unpack your suitcase though. Maybe you would end up needing it. You decided to take a hot shower, washing the tears away from your face, along with the tension built up in your shoulders. There’s a moment of silence as you lean your forehead against the cool tile of the shower wall and take a deep breath in and out.

Anxiety is coursing through your veins while your mind is racing. You would never expect to associate those feelings with your sweet Matty, never. But as you recall the events of this evening, it became more believable.

Shutting off the water, you hear a thump outside of the bathroom door. It’s way too early for him to be back. It’s only been an hour. You reach for your towel, wrapping the soft fabric around your body as you open the door slowly, your hair still dripping wet.

There he was, quickly undressing himself from his suit. Fully opening the door, you step through to the bedroom where Matt stands, facing the window. A fluorescent pink and purple light casts itself across his features, giving you a better view of his anxious state as you make your way closer to him.

“You stayed,” his voice is low, but the relief in it doesn’t go unnoticed.

Sitting on the bed, you hug yourself, the cold air prickling at your exposed skin, leaving a chill in its wake. “Yeah,” you sniffle, “I did. I don’t know why I did, though.” You can’t bear to look up at him. Of course, you were angry, but my god, you were so sad. You feel like you are losing him, slowly but surely.

He sits next to you, but in your haze, you don’t even notice until the bed dips beside you. His fingers fidget in his lap, a bad habit you’ve noticed since the beginning of your relationship. You can’t help but glance at them and feel bad. “I’m glad you did.”

With his response, your emotions betray you as tears slip out from your already swollen eyes, a hand comes up to cover your eyes as you sob harder. This was your breaking point. “What’s going on Matt? You have to tell me why,” you practically beg, “why does it feel like I always come second in everything when it comes to Hell’s Kitchen?”

Matt sighs. Without his glasses, you can see him fully, especially his emotions. His eyebrows furrow as you can see his eyes start to water, “The only way I can protect you is by keeping the city safe…for you. It was never you or Hell’s Kitchen,” his hand resting itself on your bare thigh, his touch pulling another wave of tears out of your eyes.

“I needed—need you here Matt,” you choke out, “Karen and Foggy need you here and present. We love you so much, and we will always be here for you, but it’s hard when you disappear from us, both mentally and physically.” You reach up to hold the side of his face, pulling him in to connect your foreheads, “Please stay, for us. For me.”

Touch has always been important to Matt. He knew the worst of it, his scars proved as evidence, but he learned the best from you. Your touch taught him that the world could be kind, and loving. All things he hasn’t felt for a very long time.

You two took a breath together as you soaked in each other's presence, a flood of warmth bloomed from Matt’s chest. He nodded as you released a breath you didn’t even know you’d been holding. You leaned in to connect your lips, a passionate release you both needed after your hectic night.

There was no hint of furthering things after the kiss. You just needed to express how much you loved Matt in a way he could feel. Your lips slow to soft pecks when you wrap your arms around his neck, tucking your face into the crook of his neck. “I love you, (Y/N),” he whispers.

“I love you, Matt. Welcome home.”

--author's note: PART TWO!!!!!! i love angst so much, but i can't read or write it before bed LOLZ. don't forget to like, comment, and reblog!! my 300 follower celebration is pinned on my blog, go check it out if you loved this! ok, ily bye<3333

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock angst #matt murdock fanfic #angst #fluff #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock hurt/comfort #hurt/comfort

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ghostboneswrites2 · 10 months ago

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Doe Eyes || CH4 - Worth Being Sore Over

See CH1 for warnings! || Chapter list || Masterlist

Thirty days had passed. You marked each day in a little notebook, and wrote down a song title for each day. Aside from Beth's occasional singing, you hadn't heard real music in a long time. Music was the thing you missed most from the world before, and you thought it would be a good method to keep music alive. Even if you couldn't hear it, you could remember it. The songs weren't even necessarily songs you likes, just the ones you remembered.

Day 28 - Don't Fear the Reaper ~ Blue Oyster Cult

Day 29 - Nights in White Satin ~ The Moody Blues

Day 30 - 21 Guns ~ Green Day

You guys had a run to make, so you scribbled your entry quickly and got dressed, grabbed a bite, chugged some water, and did a few stretches. You had learned the hard way how sore you could get doing so much labor with no warm up. So, every day you stretched.

The council was wary of you at first. Michonne recognized you from the time the Governor sent you after her with Merle, who you learned some time ago was dead, and she made her concerns known. Brandy stuck up for you, though, reminding them that it was you who hadn't gone after her when you could have. You also reminded them that you were on guard when they broke in to rescue Glenn and Maggie, and you didn't go after them. You asked to prove yourself and you did, taking down seven or eight walkers outside the fence on your own with just a crowbar. It worked, and you got to earn your place. So, when you were called upon to make a run with the group, you didn't protest.

Brandy hated it, though.

"You're really gonna go?" She asked you as you made sure your bag was empty to ensure plenty of space for loot.

"We've been over it." You shrugged. "Every single time, might I add. This is my job. It's how I earn my keep."

"There are so many jobs that need done around here." She argued. "I mean, I'm up to my ears in laundry. Why the hell are there only three of us on laundry duty? There are like a thousand people here!"

"A thousand?" You laughed. "Try again."

"Details aren't the point! Just stay and do a normal job!" She pleaded.

"This is a normal job, Brandy." You told her, stepping past her and exiting your cell.

"No it's not. It's like, betting with your life or something every time you go."

"Come on, stop being such a drama queen. We haven't had a single incident the entire time we've been here." You sighed. When her glare was unrelenting you decided to lay a hand on her arm and offer her a half smile. "Chillax, cowgirl. We're professionals and shit."

She laughed at that and shook her head.

"You better come back in one piece." She scolded.

"Always do!" You chirped as you skipped away before she could protest any further.

----

"Just give it a second." Daryl said after banging on the glass outside the grocery store to lure out some walkers.

"Okay, I think I got it." Zach announced.

"Got what?" Michonne asked, walking up behind him. You raised your eyebrows at him, awaiting his response.

"I've been trying to guess what Daryl did before the turn." He said.

"He's been tryin' to guess for like six weeks." Daryl complained.

"Yeah, I'm pacing myself." Zach defended. "One shot a day."

"Alright, shoot." Daryl sighed.

"Well, the way you are at the prison," Zach began. "You being on the council, you're able to track.. You're helping people but you're still being kind of.." He trailed off for a second, gathering his thoughts. "Surly." He nodded. "Big swing here... Homicide cop."

Michonne started laughing, and you couldn't help but stifle a laugh yourself.

"What's so funny?" Daryl asked defensively.

"Nothing." Michonne shook her head, still smirking. "It makes perfect sense."

"Actually, the man's right." Daryl nodded. "Under cover."

"Come on, really?" Zach asked.

"Yup. I mean, I don't like to talk about it, 'cause it's a lot of heavy shit, you know?"

"Dude, c'mon. Really?" Zach scoffed as Daryl turned his head away and smirked a little. He turned his head back to Zach and gave him a look. One of those 'be fucking for real' type looks. "Okay. I'll just keep guessing, I guess."

"Yeah, you keep doin' that." Daryl nodded.

A walker slammed up against the glass, snarling. You scrunched your nose in disgust at its bloated neck and flaky rotten skin.

"We gonna do this, detective?" Michonne asked sarcastically.

"Let's do it!" Daryl said, strutting toward the entrance.

The group of you cleared the walkers that crowded up inside, hungry for your flesh.

"Alright." Sasha breathed. "We go in, stay in formation for the sweep. After that, you all know what you're supposed to look for. Any questions?"

"Was there any time that you weren't the boss of me?" Tyreese asked.

"You had a few years before I was born." She teased.

You shook your head and smiled at the siblings bantering as you guys filed inside. You pulled your bag off your shoulder and began searching the aisles for hygienic things, like soap, first aid, pads and tampons, diapers, lotions, just whatever. It wasn't long before a loud crash erupted, and you all rushed to find Bob stuck under a shelf of wine. As soon as you all went to help him, walkers started falling through the roof.

"Uh, we should get out of here." Glenn said.

A walker fell down on Glenn but he fought it off and shot it. They just kept coming. You looked around frantically, unsure what the next move was. A walker came up on your side and you whacked it once, then twice, and down it went. Thanks, crowbar, you thought to yourself.

You decided to just keep taking them down, until someone shouted some order into the chaos. You definitely couldn't leave anyone behind. You noticed Daryl and Zach working to get Bob out from under the shelf, so you hurried over to help. When the weight was lifted just enough, Bob slithered out from under it. Unfortunately, so did a walker, and it took a big chunk out of Zach's leg.

You all froze, stunned. Thirty days of good luck, and of course you had to witness the first tragedy in a month. The walkers swarmed him, taking bites from anywhere they could reach, including his face. You gagged at the grotesqueness, but ultimately you all had to go and preserve your own lives. You were teary eyed as you all made your escape.

The ride back was a solemn one. Nobody spoke, and you personally were filled with dread. Who was gonna tell Beth about her boyfriend?

"What about Beth?" You asked, clearing your throat first to break the silence.

"What about her?" Michonne asked.

"Who's gonna tell her? About Zach?"

"Me." Daryl grunted.

----

"His face?" Brandy asked in horror. She shook her head as she passed the wine you snagged back to you after taking a sizeable gulp. You nodded and tilted the bottle back, chugging a few mouthfuls for yourself. You and Brandy shared a cell, partially for space conservation but mostly because Brandy said it would be just like sharing a dorm in college. You wouldn't know, you never made good enough grades for a college.

"Yeah, man. It was sick. I can't get the image out of my head, you know? He was just screaming in agony and we couldn't do anything but run."

"Well, get some rest. We both need it." She sighed. You agreed as you closed the wine and climbed up to your bunk. You didn't get much sleep, though. Your thoughts ran rampant, and you weren't drunk enough to quiet them. You tossed and turned for a while, earning a few complaints from Brandy, but your eyes eventually fluttered shut.

The next morning you woke with a headache. Brandy was still asleep, so you went and found some instant coffee and made yourself some with room temperature water. No sugar, no cream, exactly how you didn't like your coffee, but at least it was caffeine. You were always more of an energy drink person, anyways.

You yawned and took a sip, rubbing your eyes. D Block was always quiet in the mornings. You heard shuffling walking toward you but you didn't look up. You assumed whoever it was, they were just as groggy as you. No need for chitchat. That was, until you heard that familiar guttural hissing. Your head snapped up and your heart dropped.

"Shit!" You shouted. "Fuck! What the fuck!"

You jumped up, dropping your coffee. Quick thinking wasn't always your strong suit. Your first idea was to throw a chair at them -- the two walkers that were headed straight for you, that is -- but of course in a prison they were all bolted to the ground. Your next closest option was a coffee mug, which did no damage when you chucked it at it's head. That was when you realized it was a familiar head, the kid with the glasses that always followed Carl around.

"Shit, man." You breathed. "How'd you die?"

Gunfire and screams followed shortly after. People filed in with guns as chaos ensued, gunning down walkers and being taken down by them. Rick and Daryl rushed in, so did Carol and Glenn, and eventually with their joint efforts the walkers were taken down. Lizzie and Mica's dad was bit, and Carol tended to him. You searched around for Brandy and found her crying on her cot.

"The hell was that?" You asked in disbelief as you plopped down beside her.

"How did they get in?" She cried.

"No clue." You sighed. "If it's not one thing, it's another."

At least I'm awake now, you thought.

----

Patrick died from some kind of flu, that was what started it. Now you were all quarantined to D Block, just in case it spread. How funny was it that a common flu could end a life so quickly. Patrick was fine yesterday, and so was Charlie. It killed fast. You and Brandy decided if you were confined to a cell, you'd finish off the wine and play the uno cards you took from the library.

"Draw four." Brandy gloated triumphantly.

"Asshole." You grumbled, pulling four cards from the deck.

"You know, if I survived all this, just to get taken out by a fucking flu, I'm havin' a personal conference with the big man upstairs when I get there." Brandy said.

"Oh yeah? What makes you think that's where you're going?" You wondered.

"And just what is that supposed to mean?" She inquired.

"Didn't you know? All rich people go to hell." You joked. She rolled her eyes.

"You're a real sore loser, you know that?" She said. You glared at her. "Uno." She smirked.

"I'm just sad." You admitted, throwing your cards down. "Thirty good days, and then like ten tragedies within twenty four hours."

"Yeah." She nodded. "That's a loss worth being sore over."

#daryl x reader #twd daryl #daryl dixon #daryl x female reader #the walking dead daryl #daryl fanfiction #daryl twd #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl x y/n #daryl x you

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complicitsacrilege · 1 year ago

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This was supposed to be a part of the TDVZine but unfortunately due to work-related stuff I had to drop out, however thanks to all the lovely folks there and especially to Annis for betaing for me! I so appreciate all of you!

Without further ado, enjoy Hypnotic

CWs: dubious consent, hypno kink, blood drinking

———

Daniel knew that would be impossible. Though what Armand had done in hiding his memories from him was awful for a number of reasons, Daniel knew himself. He wouldn’t have been able to move on in any other way. The vague memory of the original interview and the lingering royalties from the book had remained, and that was enough of a distraction, but to remember Armand and not go back to that? He could’ve never had a life with the memories of what they’d had.

As Daniel ruminated on whether or not to postpone his departure from Dubai and stared at a blank document on his computer screen, he didn’t hear Armand’s near silent entry into his bedroom until the door snapped quietly shut. Daniel raised his eyes from the screen but didn’t turn around, giving a huff, “Yes, I’m still leaving in two days, Armand,” he muttered shortly, hoping to nip this conversation in the bud before it could start.

No response came except the barely audible sound of Armand sitting on the edge of the bed behind Daniel until he turned around with a mildly irritated look. “Can I help you, or have you just come to watch me?”

Armand’s expression was unusually pensive, but his gaze was piercing as he met Daniel’s eyes. In the silence that stretched between them, Daniel’s eyes flitted down to take in Armand’s unusually disheveled appearance. His robe was loosely tied, exposing a good deal of his chest, though it was artfully draped over his lap - Daniel thought it safe to assume that Armand wore nothing beneath it - and his bare feet barely brushed the floor as he stared back at Daniel with wide, unblinking eyes.

“Oh I know what this is,” Daniel started, rolling his eyes, “don’t even-”

“Stay, Daniel,” Armand’s soft voice interrupted.

“-think about it,” Daniel finished, as though the interruption hadn’t happened. “You can’t make me stay, Armand. I need time, alright? I can’t just,” Daniel gestured vaguely with his hands and shook his head.

“Can’t I?” Armand’s voice was low, and the quiet threat brought Daniel’s attention to Armand’s face once more, but this time, he found he couldn’t look away from his eyes. It was as though the world melted away as he looked into them, and it sent a sharp stab of desire through him. Perhaps delaying the trip wouldn’t be…

“Oh no,” Daniel knew what this was, fought against it as he had during the interview with Louis, until he managed to tear his eyes away, shaking his head as though to clear it. “Don’t you fucking dare.” Daniel’s heart raced as he tried to rationalize what the hell had just happened. Armand had overstepped a boundary he hadn’t even known to set with him, and yet…

“I was only proving my point,” Armand sighed, “I don’t intend to force you to stay,” he tilted his head to the side as he watched Daniel, and though there was no hint of a smile on his expression, there was a touch of amusement in his voice. “Some things never change, do they?”

———

{Read the rest on AO3}

#I planned for this to be in the iwtv zine but had to unfortunately drop out for work reasons #my friend and I are trying to get our tv scripts picked up by networks so I gotta be careful how I share my fics #go support the zine though! they’re all lovely!!#my fic #amc iwtv #devil’s minion #the vampire armand #daniel molloy #armand #Daniel X Armand #Armand X Daniel

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toxic-potions-productions · 1 month ago

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Missing kimonos (Demon slayer) (Implied Astarshibo [Oc X Canon]) (Source: Caitpatmosh, obviously)

Astarte: Hmm.....Hello, Douma. How are you?

Douma: Astarte, my sweet little slice of blueberry pie, it is so nice to—

(Douma looks over to see Astarte wearing Kokushibo's kimono opened like a haori & gasps.)

Astarte: .......What?

Douma: *Grinning* .....What'cha got there, dear?

Astarte: It's blood I put into a coffee cup, dumbass.

Douma: Mm-hmm! Ohh yes, no, that was definitely the thing I was referring to! (. ❛ ᴗ ❛.)

Astarte: What are you doing? (ㆆ_ㆆ)

Douma: Nothing~! Say, uhh, who did you do last night?

Astarte: What??

Douma: I said, what did you do last night?

Astarte: Ohh. Nothing crazy, I had a mission with the Upper ranked loner.

Douma: By "Upper ranked loner", I assume you mean Lord Kokushibo?

Astarte: Yeah, how'd you know?

Douma: Lucky guess~! So, uhh, how did the mission go? Did it take all night?

Astarte: Not gonna lie, it was pretty touch & go for a while.

Douma: Ohh– Right into the details, okay!

Astarte: It was intense. I haven't had a close call like that in a while.

Douma: Wow, I would be clutching my kimono in fear~!

Astarte: Yes, but then what's-his-face wouldn't shut up about it afterwards.

Douma: Mm-hmm. Yes, I heard near death experiences can really bring people closer together.

Astarte: What are you talking about?

Douma: So, what happened after? Did the sun come up, & you had to hide out in a cave & cuddle to keep each other warm until Nakime sent you back?

Astarte: Wh- No, we went home!

Douma: Who's home?

Astarte: What???

Douma: Where did you come from just now?

Astarte: I woke up & came here!

Douma: 'Kay, you saw Kokupuffs last night, right?

Astarte: Yeeees?

Douma: Did yoooooou see him again this morning~~~? (✿◠‿◠)

Astarte: ......What are you doing!?

Douma: I'm just trying to conceptualize what lead you to looking like this this morning.

Astarte, frustrated: Looking like what?! 💢💢💢

Douma: !!!!!............Ohh my god, you don't even know?

Astarte: I have not been here long enough for how much you're pissing me off right now. =~=

(After she said that, Kokushibo walks in with his white juban on, & obviously no kimono in sight. Or so he thought.)

Kokushibo: Astarte. Glad I found you.

Astarte: Auh- Found me? I just saw you.

Douma: Is that so~?

Astarte: WILL YOU SHUT-- Why are you bugging me so much!?

Douma: Hey, uhh........You got a little something on your sleeve.

Astarte: Ohh. What the--?

(Astarte looks down to see how she's wearing Kokushibo's kimono, & her eyes went wide. & her face a bit red, as well.)

Kokushibo: I was going to say. You forgot your kimono, & I think you took mine.

Douma: Did you get them mixed up in the cave?

Kokushibo: Yes. How did you know?

Douma: *SQUEEEEAL*

Astarte: *Ripping Koku's kimono off her shoulders* GET THIS FUCKING THING OFF ME!! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Douma is the #1 shipper, for better or for worst I also got another incorrect Caitpatmosh quote post I wanna do, but that won't be until the pinned poll is done

Here's the original tik tok

#Demon slayer #kny oc #Caitpatmosh #incorrect quotes #oc x canon #upper moons #uppermoon oc #demon slayer kokushibo #demon slayer douma #kimetsu no yaiba #random shit #This just further proves my point that I need to stay the hell away from tik tok X'D

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all-the-things-2020 · 1 year ago

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No Better Place - Chapter 4

Summary: Cassidy puts Javi to work.

Word Count: 1100

Cassidy was leaning on the rail of the pen when she heard the rumble of a truck coming up her drive. Taking one last glance at the bay gelding who was pacing nervously back and forth, she turned to see who it was. She was not surprised to see the shiny new Ford from the Pena ranch roll to a stop next to her old blue truck. Now she just had to decide if she was happy to see Javi or not.

“Hey,” she called out as he stepped down from the cab. He wasn’t wearing a hat today, and his dark hair fluttered a bit in the breeze. She couldn’t see his eyes behind the aviator sunglasses he wore, but he seemed a little nervous.

“Hey,” he replied, shutting the truck door carefully so as not to spook the horse, who had started trotting now, his nostrils flaring. “How’s he doing?” He lifted his chin in the direction of the corral.

“Not too bad,” Cassidy said. “Had a hell of a time getting him down so the vet could geld him. I think he’s afraid of men.” To prove her point, the gelding tossed his head and pressed himself against the far side of the corral. “He’s okay around me, but the vet and his assistant got him freaked out.”

“You name him yet?” Javi said. He had stopped a few feet from her, which she was thankful for. Not only did it keep him further from the already agitated horse, it kept him away from her. She was determined to resist her physical attraction to him, now that she knew a bit more about him, but damn, he was hot.

“Buster,” she said, waiting for him to scoff.

“Because he busted out the fence,” Javi said with a nod. “I like it.” He scuffed one boot toe through the dirt. “Um, my dad wanted to know if you need anything else. He thinks I don’t have enough to keep me busy.”

Cassidy resisted the urge to snort at that. “Oh, I’ve heard that you’re plenty busy,” she said, leaning back against the fence rail. Javi tilted his head at her and she forged ahead. “I ran into a couple of people in town who filled me in on you, Mr. Pena.”

“And what did they say?” Javi shifted his weight, placing his hands on his hips. His blue shirt gaped open at the chest, where he’d left several buttons undone. Could his pants be any tighter? Cassidy thought idly.

“That you left your fiancée at the altar,” she said. “That you hang out at the Lobo on Saturday nights and go home with a different woman every week. That you buy whiskey by the case and cigarettes by the carton. That any woman with a lick of sense would stay far, far away from you.”

Javi chuckled, but there was little amusement in it. “I admit it,” he said. “I’m a piece of shit.” He shrugged.

“And yet, here you are, offering to help me again,” Cassidy said. “And don’t tell me it’s just because your dad told you to.”

Javi sighed. “They forgot to tell you I used to be a federal agent,” he said bitterly. “I’m used to blindly following orders.”

“Oh, they told me that,” Cassidy said lightly. “I just didn’t think that part was very important.” She turned her back to him and laid her arms on the top rail of the fence. “You can help me with Buster, if you want. I can retrain him, no problem, but he needs to get over his fear of men if I’m going to have any chance to sell him.”

She heard Javi take a few steps closer. “What would I have to do?”

“Not much at first,” she said. “Just hang out with him. Let him realize you aren’t going to hurt him. Maybe give him carrots and horse cookies. Groom him once he’s used to you, so he associates you with good things. I’ll do the actual training.”

Javi stepped forward a bit more, resting his arms on the top rail a few feet away from her. Buster quivered and snorted at the far side of the pen. “I can do that,” Javi said quietly.

“Good,” Cassidy said. “You two stay here and get acquainted while I get some work done with the others.” She pushed away from the fence and headed for the barn.

*************************************

Javi leaned on the rail, watching Buster, who watched him back. The bay horse was on full alert, ears flicking back and forth, eyes wary. Javi could see the horse’s skin twitch with anxiety.

“Yeah, I get it,” Javi said softly. “They screwed you up good, didn’t they, boy? But I’m not going to do anything to you. We’ll just hang out for a bit, two losers together, okay?”

Buster snorted but remained on the far side of the pen. Javi sighed. He spied the lawn chairs he and Cassidy had sat in the other day and brought one over to the corral fence. Might as well be comfortable while he kept the horse company. Buster watched his every move as he carried the chair and placed it where he got a sliver of shade from the scrawny palo verde tree that grew nearby.

From his seat, Javi could watch Buster, as well as see Cassidy out in the bigger arena on the other side of the barn. She was lunging a bay horse, making it walk, trot, and lope around her on the end of a long line. She stood calmly in the center of the circle, giving the horse subtle cues with a long whip and her body language. It was mesmerizing, and not just because she was wearing another tight tank top.

He was so lost in watching Cassidy work that he forgot all about Buster until the gelding stepped into his line of sight. Javi was about to shoo the horse out of the way when he realized Buster was only a few feet away from him.

“Well, well,” Javi crooned. “Curiosity isn’t just for cats, is it?” Buster snorted and shied a few steps, but otherwise stayed where he was. Javi sat still, relaxing even though every instinct he had told him to lean forward. He didn’t want to spook the horse and lose the tiny bit of progress they’d managed to make. So he sat, and Buster stood, In companionable silence while the sun beat down and the flies buzzed around their heads.

#pedro pascal #javier peña x ofc #javier pena fic #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena narcos #horses #fan fiction

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enchantingjacarandas · 1 year ago

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Clumsy

Pairing: Lee Know | Minho / Han | Han Jisung

Tags: High School AU, Mutual Pining, Love Confessions, Getting Together, Accident Prone Jisung

Other Sites to Read on: Ao3 or Wattpad

Words: 3,759

A/N: I hope you enjoy the photos. I was losing my mind on finding pictures that fit the story while also making an aesthetically appealing collage.

Scissors made the only noise in the room, as the students continued working hard. Jeongin and Jisung were staying after class to help their math teacher decorate and prepare materials for her room. She had just gotten halfway through the multitude of stacked tests on her desk.

“Okay guys, I’m gonna run to the restroom real quick, I’ll be back in a little bit.” She proceeded to swiftly exit the room.

Jisung turned to Jeongin. “Do you really think she’ll give us extra credit for helping her?”

“I sure hope so,” Jeongin sighed, “I haven’t gotten a one hundred on any math tests this year, so I kinda need it.” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly at his failure.

“True you definitely do need it,” Jisung joked.

Jeongin clicked his tongue and went back to cutting out the laminated papers. Jisung placed down his finished cutouts. Having nothing else to do, Jisung’s mind started to wander. He recently had his eyes on someone he saw Seungmin talking to in the hallway. Jisung was pretty sure his name was Minho, and Minho appeared to be close to Seungmin. The sight of Minho laughing at something Seungmin said replayed in his head.

Jeongin rolled his eyes. “Hey! Don’t just stare off into space!”

Jisung blinked away his thoughts. “Oh sorry Innie, I didn’t even realize.”

Jeongin slightly shook his head at the nickname. “Staple this border she wanted on the wall.” Jeongin pointed towards the wall the teacher spoke about earlier.

Jisung grabbed the border saying, “This thing?” He then glanced up at the wall. “But you’re taller. Why don’t you do it?”

“It's your punishment for zoning out,” Jeongin narrowed his eyes.

Jisung knew he was mad so decided not to argue more. “Fine.” Looking around for a way to reach the top part of the wall Jisung said, “Hmmmm I guess I can use this chair.”

Jeongin looked at the chair in question. “It looks a little unstable, are you sure? You know how accident prone you are.”

Jisung stared at the chair once again. “It will be fine.” He got up on the chair, slowly standing up. “Look, I’m already on it.” He pulled a superhero pose on the chair in question, in order to further prove his point.

Jeongin sighed, “I guess”.

Minho was pissed, how could the teacher sign him up for something so stupid? He stormed through the school hallways heading for the underclassmen wing. Finally finding her classroom, he abruptly opened the door getting ready to yell at the teacher. Instead, he only saw two underclassmen.

A startled Jisung screamed as he fell from the chair to the floor, landing on his butt. He angrily thought, “who the hell barges in here like-'' but his thoughts were cut off when he looked in the doorway seeing Minho. He just stood there in the doorway, and Jisung couldn’t figure out how to look away. He studied him making sure not to forget a single detail of Minho. The guy he had been desperately trying to get a better view of through his memories.

Minho was alarmed at the scene in front of him. He moved forward to help the fallen boy, stopping when the boy’s head tilted up to look at him. All of his thoughts vanished as his eyes locked onto Jisung’s. His anger dissipated. Minho was pulled back to reality when Jeongin cleared his throat.

He moved to help Jisung up while apologizing. “I shouldn’t have been so aggressive-” He dragged out the last word at the sight before him. Jisung had quickly scrambled to get up off the floor as Minho got closer. Minho was confused by the strong reaction. Had he really scared this boy that much? Fearing that that might be the case, Minho decided it was maybe time for him to leave.

“I just came here to talk to the teacher, but I’ll go wait outside for her.” Minho gave a slight nod to the underclassmen as he left the room.

Jisung thought to himself, “His even more handsome close up”.

Jeongin rolled his eyes. “I know what that look means.”

Jisung tried to rebut saying, “Well, it’s just nice to have someone who seems warm. Instead of you always being annoyed and cold with me.” He stuck his tongue out at Jeongin.

Jeongin smirked, “If you think I can be cold you should see Minho”.

“I’m telling you, he definitely was looking at you.” Chan said, smiling at Jisung. Jisung was walking in between Changbin and Chan as they headed to their next classes.

“As much as I would like to believe that, in times like this we must be realistic.” Jisung had stated with a sad frown. He truly did want to believe it, he just simply couldn’t.

Every time Jisung spotted Minho it’s not like he’d give Minho much of a chance to convince him otherwise. He mainly spent his time running away from Minho. He was way too nervous of doing the wrong thing. So, rather than doing something wrong, his solution was to just run away from the situation entirely. It wasn’t the best way to go about things, but it seemed like the best way to avoid getting hurt for Jisung.

“You know he is in mine and Chan’s grade level.” Changbin turned to Jisung. “I could always put in a good word for you.” Changbin raised his eyebrows up and down suggestively while getting closer to Jisung.

Jisung’s eyes widened. “Don’t you dare do anything!”

Chan being the mediator he was, he decided to try to make a compromise for both sides. “I have several classes with him, if you ever want to know anything just ask.” Chan leaned closer to Jisung. Being in between the two boys Jisung started getting squished.

Jisung smiled. “Okay I’ll let you know.” It felt nice to know his friends only wanted the best for him.

Jisung had been walking his whole life, and yet he somehow failed to succeed in walking just then. He was attempting to put his back foot forward when, because of his friends almost crushing him, his back foot hooked on his other foot. Making him fall forward when his legs had become one.

Changbin laughed at his friend toppling over. For it was quite amusing how sudden and fast Jisung had made contact with the floor. Suddenly, Chan cut him off seeing that the fall had been in front of the very man they were discussing earlier.

Jisung looked up at the man. As he registered Minho was in front of him his eyes soon grew wide. Jisung fumed inside his head. “Why does this happen every time?”

Minho attempted to start a conversation. “Umm hey,” Minho awkwardly gave a smile trying to appear less scary.

“Hey,” Jisung softly spoke, before quickly sprinting down the hall.

The group left behind could faintly hear a teacher yell. “No running in the halls!”

Minho stood still in place. He tried not to let himself get too down, acknowledging the progress made. “Well at least he said a word to you.” A small smile spread across his face at that thought. Even if it was just microscopic progress, they were still moving forward.

The group stood there a few more seconds processing the situation, before Chan cleared his throat. “Well Minho, you wanna walk to our next class together?”

Minho, still looking in the direction where Jisung disappeared, slowly replied, “yes”.

After they had walked to class and sat in their normal seats Minho decided to ask the question that was burning on his mind. “So who was that guy?”

Chan was puzzled for a moment, then it hit him. “You mean the guy that fell for you?” Chan mentally kicked himself at his slip up. “I mean, the guy that fell in front of you.”

Minho tilted his head. “Yeah, him…”

Chan gave a nervous chuckle, “That’s just Jisung”.

Inquisitiveness quickly infected Minho. “Are you guys close?”

“Yeah, me and Changbin hang out with him quite often. He helps us with producing music.” Chan paused. “You normally aren’t too interested in people, unless…” He trailed off making the last word seem more like a question.

“I mean he does seem quite interesting,” Minho then glanced away as he finished his statement. “and cute.” Chan gave a suggestive look. This was too good.

Minho decided to tell Chan what he was really worried about. “He always seems to run away when I’m around though. I think he might think I’m scary.”

Chan could’ve said the real reason why Jisung always runs, but he decided to just tip toe around the truth.“I think he might be a little intimidated, but you tend to have that effect on people.” Chan hoped to lighten the mood by saying the last part in a joking manner.

Minho let out his frustrations with a sigh. “I know.”

Chan put on a teasing smile. “Oooh you know?”

“Don’t start that.” Minho hoped that he had the wrong idea and Chan was just talking about something else. Still Chan continued.

Leaning closer to Minho at said, “We know”.

Minho rolled his eyes.

“Lee Know,” Chan said, while his arm went outwards towards Minho, and his hands shaking like jazz hands.

“Do you really have to bring that old rap up? This is why I don’t hang out with you and Changbin anymore.”

Chan put his hand over his heart and pretended to be hurt. “Cold, but fare. In all seriousness, if you’re worried about coming across as scary, maybe you should stop using words like that.” Minho thought about Chan’s advice, maybe he did need to choose better language.

“You came!” Felix hugged Minho. “I’m so excited!”

Minho accepted the hug and chucked at Felix’s enthusiasm. “Hey, I would never miss your birthday party, come on!”

Felix pulled away from the hug and looked at Minho giving a slight frown. “Still I heard that you’ve been under the weather.”

“huh?”

Felix explained himself, while being a little confused as to why Minho didn’t know what he was talking about. “Changbin said you caught some sort of disease, and something about not taking his advice for a cure.”

Minho closed his eyes out of frustration. “It’s just a weird joke we have.” Minho tried to give a convincing smile. Thinking about how to get revenge, he asked Felix a seemingly innocent question. “Speaking of your boyfriend, where is he exactly?”

“Oh he's already here along with a few others, we are just waiting for Hyunjin.” Felix motioned towards the living room.

Minho smiled, handing him the bag in his hand. “Here is your gift as well.”

Felix accepted the gift and held it close. “Hyung! You didn’t have to get me anything.”

“I couldn’t not get you anything for your birthday.”

Felix smiled big as he spoke. “Still I really appreciate this gift. I'll go put it with the others, see you later.” He waved as left the room. Minho was happy his gift was being appreciated, but didn’t think it was that big of a deal.

“Bye” Minho waved back. Then when Felix turned around he cracked his knuckles. He was ready to greet Changbin with an evil grin plastered on his face. Entering the living room Minho glared at Changbin while he spoke through his teeth. “Why did you tell Felix I have a disease?”

Changbin’s face lit up as he laughed saying, “You do! You are love sick”.

“And why is that Felix’s concern?”

Changbin decided to clear up Minho’s worries. “Listen, it accidentally slipped out. I had to try to cover it up.” He then leaned closer to Minho hoping to prevent anyone from overhearing. “Also you normally don’t take long, letting people know how you feel. I thought you would already have it all figured out by now.”

Minho clicked his tongue. “Well, I haven’t gotten alone time with him yet.” In fact he hadn’t gotten any time with Jisung. Just the occasional bump in the hall or a quick wave. Jisung normally sprinted in the other direction before, much progress could be made. Minho instead got to know Jisung through little observations, times when Jisung wasn’t aware of his presence. Most of it made Minho more lonely. He seemed to talk so freely to others, while with Minho they were moving at a snail's pace, if that.

Changbin consulted him, patting his shoulder. “Are you gonna do anything today then?”

“Today?”

“Don’t you know Jisung is here, at this party?” He greeted Felix with a smile as he entered the room with Hyunjin. “Him and Felix are good friends.”

Minho blinked at the new information. Seeing his boyfriend was now free, Changbin headed towards him. Hyunjin acknowledged Chan with a nod and started to quietly talk about some sort of surprise for Felix.

Jisung was talking with Jeongin when he noticed Minho.

Panic spread through him as he whispered yelled at Jeongin. “Shit! Why didn’t you tell me Minho would be here! I’ve got to figure out how to avoid him.”

Jeongin raised his eyebrows. “Why is that?”

“Because, I always do something embarrassing in front of him. Remember when I fell off the chair.” Jisung was bouncing his leg out of nervousness.

Jeongin smiled at the memory of his friend getting startled. “Yeah, but it was kinda funny seeing you all panicked and flustered.” He poked Jisung’s side trying to get the man to loosen up. Jisung narrowed his eyes at Jeongin’s lame attempts to ease his pain. “Listen Huyng, it’s probably not as bad as you think.”

Jisung glanced up once again at the boy they were talking about. He froze upon seeing Minho’s eyes lock directly onto his. Jisung decided to try to hide behind Jeongin. Knowing it was pointless to resist, Jeongin let him hide.

Minho, seeing that Jisung was still avoiding him, decided maybe he should just give him space. After all, absence makes the heart grow fonder. Seungmin pulled him away from his thoughts.

“I heard that someone's got a crush.” Minho sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. If Seungmin knew that meant he had been super obvious.

“Oh. That means I’m right.” Seungmin looked around the room. “Alright, where is he? Let’s have a conversation with him.” Minho giggled, he knew Seungmin would never actually cross the line.

Jisung saw how close Minho and Seungmin were. His mind wondered if the two of them had something going on. Had he been delusional this whole time? He had known that the two boys were always close, but Minho was smiling while also acting somewhat embarrassed. It looked like the same way Jisung felt when he saw Minho, yet Minho wasn’t looking at him, he was looking at Seungmin.

Jisung’s attention was soon grabbed by Hyunjin as he gripped his shoulder. “Alright, I set everything up. Changbin is currently distracting him. When Seungmin hits the lights, you come in with the cake.”

At the mention of Seungmin, Jisung decided to glance up where Minho used to be. Not seeing either guy he looked around a bit more. Spotting Minho talking to Chan, he felt relief wash over himself.

Hyunjin nudged him, “Hey Seungmin is by the light switch, so hurry up and go.”

Jisung quickly disappeared from the room heading for the kitchen. When the lights went out and the living room was dark, he entered. Jisung beamed as he carried the candle lit cake towards Felix. The light flickered all around the group as everyone huddled close.

Minho scanned everyone wondering if anyone else saw a problem with this. The fact that all his interactions with Jisung resulted in the boy toppling over, he started to worry. Seeing no one around him was on alert he decided to just brush it off. He shook off the thoughts, as he put himself back in the moment.

After everyone sang happy birthday to Felix. He closed his eyes and he blew out the candles making a wish. Seungmin went towards the lights, turning them back on. Changbin cupped Felix’s face in his hands and leaned in to kiss him.

“Yuck!” Hyunjin pulled out his classic disturbed face at the PDA in front of him. He tried to back away from the romantic situation. When he ended up accidentally bumping into Jeongin. Who was not expecting to get hit with anything, completely fell over heading straight for Jisung. Causing Jisung to think of a quick action in order to save the cake. He was too fast with his movements and the cake quickly left his hands and went to the air as he toppled over.

The cake, flying up in the air and had everyone entranced wondering where it would land. It started heading straight for Minho. Possibly out of shock or just pure lack of care he stayed completely still. He just simply closed his eyes as the cake landed straight on his face. The cake then crumbled the rest of it sliding to his shoulders and the floor around him. Minho’s face was covered in frosting and chunks of cake.

His hands went to his eyes, as he wiped off the gunk so he could open them. Gazing around towards the rest of the group it seemed like most of them were waiting for him to react. Minho was not the type to make a big deal out of an accident.

He tried to quelch their concerns. “No need to panic, it's just a cake.”

A small pout appeared on Felix’s lips as he stared at the cake. It’s unlikely that anyone walking into the room would call it a cake though, they would likely just call it a mess. Seeing the pout on his boyfriend’s face, Changbin quickly pulled him into a hug.

Changbin patted Felix’s head as he tried to comfort him. “It will be fine, it's only a cake I will get you a better one.”

As they continued to hug, Hyunjin suggested an alternative. “Let’s go all out for ice cream!” Jeongin lit up, enthusiastically nodding at the idea.

Seungmin gestured towards the mess. “But first Minho should get cleaned up.”

Chan took the lead of clean up duty. “Let’s also clean up the floor, I’ll go get towels from the kitchen.”

Jisung’s face slowly turned more and more red, staring in shock at Minho covered in the mess he made. “Minho, I'm so sorry!” Minho took a few seconds to process the situation. He just stood there frozen. When Jisung touched his face with a napkin Minho unfroze.

He calmly spoke. “Don’t worry, I’ll go get cleaned up in the bathroom.” Then abruptly disappeared towards the restroom.

Changbin saw the perfect set up. “Jisung, you should help him clean up.”

Jisung crunched the napkin in his hand. Would it really be okay to follow Minho? Would it just be weird if he helped? Although, he did make the mess in the first place. Jisung’s eyes panned around the room hoping to find an answer. Chan entered the room and filling in the blanks he nodded at Jisung. He was assured that the right thing was to follow Minho.

He stood outside of the bathroom, took a deep breath and then opened the door. At the sight before him his breath spilled back out into the open. Minho was without a shirt on. The cake was still covering his face, but that only drew more attention to his exposed upper body. Compared to his face in the mirror his back was so spotless. It looked so clean, smooth, and inviting.

Minho, seeing Jisung through the mirror, questioned his intentions. “Are you here to help?” Minho put his attention back to the mirror pulling cake out of his hair.

Jisung lightly shook his head to get rid of the nasty thoughts. “Yeah,” he grabbed the hand towel sitting on the edge of the sink counter. “Here, lean over the sink and I’ll help you.”

Minho softly smiled as Jisung wet the rag and pieces of cake fell into the sink. Maybe Jisung wasn’t scared of him. Minho looked at Jisung’s eye as they forced on getting the cake off his face. Even if this moment was temporary, Minho felt lucky for just being a part of it. Jisung was also in bliss, but tried to focus on the task in front of him. He wondered if he should go slow with cleaning Minho’s face, that way this moment would last just a little bit longer.

Minho decided to speak up in hopes a conversation would make Jisung take longer. He scanned around the room and saw his shirt on the counter. “Do you think you could ask Seungmin to get me an extra shirt when you're done here?”

Jisung sank a little, “Yeah.” he paused then asked the burning question on his mind. “Are you two together?”

“Ew no,” Minho made a face like he had just eaten the sourest lemon on planet earth.

“Ah that’s good.” Jisung couldn’t hide his smile at the news. He looked up, seeing Minho’s blank face he attempted to remedy the situation. “I mean…” In the end Jisung couldn’t figure out how to save himself. The words only served to grow Minho’s confidence. They were alone together so, now was as good of a time as any.

“Listen Jisung, I have something important to tell you.” Minho bit his lip. No matter how many times someone asks out someone they really like, it never gets easier. “I was wondering if after tonight’s party you’d wanna hang out. Just the two of us. Like a date or something?”

Jisung’s lit up, smiling at Minho. “I’d love that!” He then looked down as he confessed what had been bothering him. “If I’m being honest, I thought I was utterly embarrassing myself in front of you, cause I’m such a clutz.”

Minho laughed at the honesty, just another thing to love. “I thought it was really cute.” Minho smiled, remembering how adorable and flustered Jisung would be when he fell. Thinking more Minho tilted his head. “Although, is that why you ran away every time? I thought you were scared of me or something.”

Jisung sheepishly smiled. “Well, I was kind of scared.” Jisung couldn’t look at Minho anymore as he said the next words. “But it’s because I really like you.”

Minho smiled, he hoped that this dork would stay in his life forever. “I really like you too.”

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A/N: It seems like minsung has won once again. Thank you for everyone who voted in the poll I really appreciate the help. Going to end up posting them in order from most votes to least votes. Thank you so much for reading and supporting me!

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frostycatblr-fandom-files · 11 months ago

Text

Brothers & Batchmates [Part 1]

Warnings and Information: Made a real mess for myself in the NTMYB narrative by giving one Jedi command of both a battalion and a legion, which just goes to show I didn’t plan this far in advance from the beginning when what was meant to be a one-off has become a Whole Thing. (Ah well. You live and you learn who the hell’s in charge here. This is me fixing my mess and fleshing out the story.) I missed writing about my boys. Reference and allusion to canon-typical violence and war crimes. Reference and allusion to death, injury and loss. More takes on Clone culture. Still no use of Mando’a here. Star Wars and real-world swearing. The usual use of narrative and stylistic italics. Clone OC Scuffle is his own damn warning (perhaps just for this installment as a whole). *Use of a character’s deadname. Reference to the transgender Clone named Sister. Like her Clone OCs, the author can’t stop making up fake birds. *Jedi OC Caelen is genderfluid, and while any pronouns are applicable, they/them is primarily used in the story for clarity. Caelen’s deadname is brought up ONCE in an establishing flashback, as a warning, to those who are sensitive to such things. (I want it to be very clear it is not done with disrespect, however.)

Word-count: 6,272

The combined unit eyes the three-dimensional map with bated breath. They were warned this morning that the commander and captain needed to conduct a last-minute mission to move against the Separatist forces - an opportunity to deal a critical blow - but they could not take the entire combined company. There is a chance many brothers will have to be apart, a very long twenty-four hours for some.

All Clones are brothers of course, though batchmates are most often the closest of all brotherly bonds. And for those who have been adopted into these batch-bonds, the potential to be split apart proves more stressful.

But duty takes precedence over such feelings.

Their commanding officers are apologizing before they even make their verdicts, who will be going with the commander, and who will be staying with the captain. "We're sorry for what's to come; we never want to split our forces unless necessary of course after growing used to this… unusual arrangement. However, Captain Law and I have agreed this could make the difference between an early victory or a crushing defeat in this sector of Republic space." Hundreds of brothers reply that they understand in the affirmative, however begrudgingly for some, and however anxiously for others.

"Commander Juke will take volunteers first, and if necessary following that point, we'll select and recruit additional troops into the task force." Captain Law further explains, switching the holonav off for the time being.

One soldier steps forward out of the lineup, picture of perfection in formation position with his helmet carried in the crook of his arm. There is a jagged notch cut out of his right ear that makes him stand out. This is Nockite, one of the oldest brothers in the combined forces under a singular Jedi’s command.

"I will go." Nockite’s simple pledge is an unwavering oath, and the first break in the ice of hesitation for many of his other brothers. If Nockite will go, many who look to his example will follow.

He's thanked for volunteering himself, but Commander Juke doesn't need them right away. The only timeframe they are supplied with is “soon enough”. Juke says he is only telling his brothers now to give time to think it over so the call doesn't come as a complete surprise. Where he can avoid it, it is not in the commander's nature to create rude awakenings for the men, whether they be from his battalion, or Law’s legion. He’s proved he cares about preventing the decay of overall morale on many occasions before.

They’ve taken many blows as it is, these brothers.

The death of General Kalsamm.

Many of these last planets, festering with CIS battle droids, have proven for staggering losses of life in the name of tentative victories.

Knowing that though they’ve proven capable thus far, one singular Force-wielder cannot maintain the command of a legion and their late master’s battalion on their own forever; the arrangement brothers have grown used to will eventually come to an end…

Fortunately this dividing line - when that time comes - will not have too great an impact on a group of Clones who admittedly have grown very dependent on one another, in one sense or the other. Canvas, the baby brother of one batch, now adopted into the fold of another, would have been utterly inconsolable if he had been separated from the one brother who’d come to mean the galaxy to him. And Scruffy, equally attached in his own fashion to not just Canvas, but his batchmates Stick and Cypher and twins Carver and Cairn too, would not be capable of taking such orders without challenge. Join the ranks of the battalion without his chosen brothers? Remain in the legion without the brother who spent the most time ensuring he did not die a rookie?

Sat together, not far from where the COs had made this announcement, Scruffy and his brothers consider if they should volunteer to go to assure they don't become fragmented. Do they just say nothing and hope enough brothers will volunteer themselves? Commander Juke is taking a relatively "small" response force for this opportunity, maybe only fifty or so brothers, so surely these slots would fill fast between the legion and the battalion, right?

The more they all sit and think about it, the more one of them grows nervous about particular possibilities. "Maybe we… should? If we tell the Captain we volunteer to go together then we won't be split up."

"Is that what you wanna do, Vas?" Scruffy asks, carefully picking leaf after leaf from Canvas’s tight curls of hair. He’d fallen in a patch of bluefern this morning, chasing after a Seppie probe droid. Damn thing nearly got away too, had the Clone with five scuff marks on his chest plate not recklessly thrown himself forward in hopes of catching the thing by one of its many thin appendages and succeeded.

Lost his helmet in the process, but Canvas looked so damn proud of himself for slowing the recon unit down just long enough for a marksman to turn the droid into scrap-metal. Captain Law had been proud too, once he had talked himself out of lecturing his brother on account of the recklessness.

"I think so. While it's not that I don't like the look of the situation, I don- can't lose my brothers…" Canvas replies, screwing his eyes shut in his admittance. "I just can't." Out of all his fears - and there are many - the thought of losing his brothers paralyzes him. Battle droids don't frighten the Clone who bears the marks of his dead batchmates like they once had, save perhaps BX commando droids and for every good reason.

On more than one occasion since being accepted into Scruffy's fold, Canvas has woken up in a bundle of emotionally shattered nerves with hot, thick tears trailing down his face after waking from a dream about losing his batchmates, and then his closest brothers; leaving him all alone. Sometimes the worry stone that sits in his utility belt helps. Other times it's nothing more than whittled wood that has become smoothed through repeated use.

Cypher looks up from his datapad at long last, breaking away from studying his page on a specimen of carnivorous invertebrates. "Should we ask the Commander before you change your mind?"

Canvas scuffs the dirt before him with the toe of his boot, taking a moment to ponder. Should they? What if the others didn't want to go? The twins hadn't said anything since Commander Juke and the captain informed them of the plan.

"Cairn? Carver? What do you think; do you want to do it?"

"I'm still considering it." Carver admits in a grumble through gritted teeth. Someone has his vibroknife for the time being, and he's been somewhat unhappy without it. He’s always thought best with his hands occupied. His twin, Cairn, on the other hand has his mind made up.

"I'd go. I'd love to lay waste to a couple of clankers. Tear 'em limb from limb!"

"Cairn, you worry me." Scruffy's batchmate Stick says plainly, grimacing in concern after sharing a glance as the oldest and next oldest. Yeah, this is normal for him, welcome to my galaxy little brother. "And you too, Carver. You're not usually so… moody." Stick adds with a shrugging gesture.

"I can't think when I don't have my knife on me." Carver reminds him.

"That is kriffing terrifying, thank you." Stick replies hurriedly, no longer grimacing, but actively recoiling from the grumpy brother beside him. "I wasn't aware the knife was quite that important."

"It's part of his identity. How he got his Name." Scruffy explains, fishing out a folding blade that's part of his batch-brother's kit after Cypher says he's welcome to take it and use it for the time being ("I needed to collect some cuttings the last time I used it; just… don't get anything on your armor.") apologizing for the purple sap stuck to the edge of the blade. "Back before Canvas had his name, he added Faro, Gunnar, Cryfar and Fluke's scuff marks into his armor after Fluke died. Took him about an hour to do it with nothing but the rough edge of a rock. Carver found an old vibroknife somewhere, and dug a couple of designs into his helmet after watching what Canvas had done. You can guess the rest from there."

Stick plucks up the whittler’s helmet to examine it for himself at Carver’s invitation when admitting he’s never noticed the designs before. Simplistic renditions of marching bantha and the twin suns of Tatooine. “Heh. Reminds me of the day the captain was talking about naming us Bantha Company, for a while. Not half bad at all, Carver.”

Having honed his skills as quickly as he has, Carver often hates much of his early work; there are at least four known exceptions. His worry stones, the General’s Mudhorn, Canvas’s whittled bird’s nest, and now the helmet carvings. “Thanks. Think that’s what I had on my mind that day as well. Some day, I want to add a great, big old Mudhorn on the other side, now that we’re the Mudhorn Company.” Yeah, maybe he’ll look like a kiss-ass by adding the captain and Jedi’s favorite creatures to his helmet, but so what? (He’d have to add Commander Juke’s favorite creature - a scarab - to really sell the idea anyways.)

“Could paint one for you,” Scruffy offers before reminding him he needs to start thinking on his decision since getting him the temporarily-loaned knife to think, “but you’re not allowed to blow me up in order to make that happen.”

“Don’t worry. Was considering breaking my favorite arm instead.” Carver promises, continuing the gallows humor a moment longer, “Or provoking stone-stacker to.” A small pebble glances off his thigh armor with a sharp tok! in response from Cairn; something Scruffy quickly puts an end to before the behavior escalates, as it often does.

“Cut it out,” he warns in a paternal tone, confiscating the next pebble from the palm of his brother’s hand, “now’s not the time.” Carver is fixed with a firm look next, one disapproving and unimpressed. “You know he doesn't like that nickname. Let's not have another fight if he's going to come along and you stay behind.” This will be all Scruffy needs to add to make his point to each brother out of the twins before returning to picking out the tiny bits of powder blue foliage from Canvas’ hair.

“Hold on a second,” the researcher among them requests as he remembers something, reaching for Cairn's right hand which he had recently injured, “I’m not certain you should join the task force with a healing tendon injury.”

They're unable to recall what he'd done to sprain one of the major tendons in his hand and wrist, and with no great way to treat it out here in the field other than pain-killing stims and compression wraps, Cairn had been given certain restrictions in how much he could safely lift.

“Oh shit- ow!” Cairn mumbles as Cypher experimentally rolls and prods Cairn’s wrist, and finds it responds less than favorably even now, “I'd already forgotten about that. Maaaaaybe I should reconsider…”

The brothers and batchmates have made up their minds, now that they're certain Cairn has come to his final decision. Carver and Cairn will be staying behind, and Canvas, Scruffy, Stick and Cypher will be volunteering to join the ranks of the task force. There are precautionary goodbyes, just to be safe. With few specifics given, there’s no telling what is in store for these brothers, what they’ll face in the line of duty.

That reality is concerning, but it’s what they were made for. That’s how they serve the Republic.

"Captain Law, we'd-" Canvas begins to volunteer himself and his brothers, but the C.O. holds his hand out, flat palm and splayed fingers, to halt him.

The scarred brow belonging to his superior officer furrows harshly. "Actually, Canvas…" Captain Law looks to Commander Juke for a moment, for confirmation, and the furrow deepens when all Juke offers is that solemn nod. The decision is final. “I’m… I’m afraid you can’t go.”

Getting hit with the stun setting from their DC-15s when doing training drills with the Carbines hurt less than this, worse than the total-body paralysis that follows after the tsunami of numbness. What does his captain mean he can’t go?

Risking wrath or reprimand, he challenges the call. “But, sir, I-” His mind races, but he tries not to give into the rising panic. “Why can’t I go? I want to go.” What reason does his brother, his captain, have for retaining him? He’s a willing and able soldier, according to his last evaluation. Does the captain know differently?

“Sir, Vas hasn’t been talked into this by any of us, he’s more nervous about staying than going if this is about his anxieties.” Scruffy steps in to not only defend Canvas’ claims, but of course to support his brother. “Honest, he wants to go.”

“This isn’t about his anxiety-” Captain Law begins insistently at risk of being interrupted, “- this is about other things, boys. The rest of you may go, but Canvas needs to stay behind.”

Before Canvas can get in a word about talking to the captain in private for a moment, Scruffy turns his voice steely and defiant, and that’s unlike him.

“Then I’m not going either.”

“Son, mind your tone.” The commander’s warning to Scruffy is more out of habit than true distaste for how his brother is conducting himself right now. He understands the how and the why of the behavior, fully prepared for this. “Let’s not be so hasty. There’s still time to deci-”

“Respectfully, there’s nothing to decide, Commander Juke.”

No, that’s definitely enough now, Canvas decides. “Scruffy… can I have a minute to speak to the captain, alone?”

If he can speak with Captain Law, one on one, maybe he can make more sense of this decision. Maybe he can sway the mind of his immediate commanding officer, and together they can have a discussion with the commander about his participation in the task force. Then he still gets to go. He still gets to prove himself a capable, competent soldier for all of his set-backs and faults, and his older brother won’t get himself in trouble with their even older brothers.

Canvas feels confident that this discussion could reverse the captain’s decision, if he just has the chance to speak without Scruffy interjecting on his behalf. And though Captain Law agrees to humor him, suggesting they speak a short ways off from everyone else, the pained expression on his face does not bode well.

“I’m sorry, brother… I know you’re hoping to convince me, but I’m afraid the decision was not mine to make in the end…” Captain Law begins, hoping to ply Canvas with apology and reasoning as he reaches forward and takes the younger by their shoulders. “I wanted you to go, too, little brother. I truly did.”

He is not going to cry like a child who didn't get his way. He is a grown man, a soldier. He knew this was a risk from the moment he was old enough to partake in the tests and the training on their motherworld that he would either lose his brothers, or be separated from them, at some point in this war they would be fighting. Every damn one of them knows this.

I was created to march a war that had not yet started. I was created to serve, to fight valiantly and loyally. I was created with my brothers, and I will lose many of them in this war. If… when… I lose them, all I will have to remember them by is a cut scrap of their body glove. No helmets. Only my memory and their smell in my nose.

Canvas has the scraps of their black bodysuits all Clones wear under the plastoid armor that once belonged to his batchmates - Faro, Gunnar, Cryfar, Fluke - though unfortunately, they no longer smell like his brothers.

Captain Law has apologized again and again for what he's had to do. Commander Juke has taken him aside and tried to say something to him too, but the reaction remains the same.

"Please just try to stay safe." If he speaks anything beyond these six words, Canvas knows how it will end. How his resolve will crumble. How he will accuse his commanding officers of singling him out, babying him like a cadet and lying about it. Abandon the logical understanding of why he has to remain behind with the Captain and why Scruffy, Stick and Cypher are going to be a part of the task force.

And the General from a planet called Little Archossi… they haven't liked the arrangement either, but the Force-wielder has given full control of this strategized attack to their officers. When they come and speak to Canvas themselves, using the affectionate terminology of their culture and homeworld, they are very, very careful not to sound as though they mean to infantilize anyone.

"Young one, I heard you won't be going with your brothers. I am surprised to see you look so calm."

Canvas can only lift his shoulders stiffly before they are quickly dropped. He doesn't know what he should say to that. He certainly doesn't feel calm, and the Jedi Knight can probably sense that. "Captain Law explained why I'm staying behind, why my brothers have been asked to go. I know what's been asked of me, General." His statement makes the gray-skinned General frown sharply, and he worries he's made it sound like he's waving off sympathetic efforts. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be… like that."

"It is only understandable, young Canvas, to feel as you do. To understand that your task keeps you here while your brothers will walk another path with trust and acceptance speaks to your training." A calloused hand is laid on his shoulder for a moment, an expression of comfort and compassion. There is understanding when the General speaks next, but also some pride. "And to understand that while you are perhaps very upset about this, you still conduct yourself in spite of your feelings in a way that speaks to your maturity. You prove time and time again that you understand your duty to the Republic without forgetting these are your brothers."

"I don't always feel very mature, General." Canvas admits gently, shamefully. He can't decide if the admittance is supposed to be bitter, or regretful, or full of remorse and disappointment instead. His feelings are too much of a tumultuous tailspin to make sense of everything on his own. What would the General sense from him? "I'm not like the others…"

They seem taken aback, short of balking in surprise, starmelt yellow eyes blinking rapidly.

"No, in a sense you are not. But whatever do you mean, little one?"

It's too much to explain. Canvas isn't sure where he should start, if he did. Did he tell his General that now that he's been away from Kamino for a while, he suspects one of the Trainers there of abusing the soldiers? Would it be a good idea to tell them that he doesn't always think he's fit to be a soldier; there's some "minor" defect or a mishap with the equipment during his development that explains why he has a perpetual undercurrent of anxiety beyond the pale for someone in wartime? Does he explain that more recently, he dreams he's… decommissioned? Or reconditioned if he's lucky?

"... nevermind, General. It'd take too long to explain."

"I see, then... perhaps another time. I would like to understand what it is that troubles you."

Canvas thinks on it, seeing no real harm in the General knowing, but ultimately he decides against what he initially had to say. "Perhaps another time would be better to talk about that, yes… but I did have a question about something else. Something I just want a little clarification on, if it's okay."

The Force-wielder blinks curiously. "What would you like me to clarify, young Canvas?" For a moment, they must believe it's another case of confusion regarding the gender-presentation of the temporarily combined unit's leader. The matter of gender fluidity wasn't a completely rocky concept for their men to navigate like it has been elsewhere in the galaxy, remembering how their first days of command played out.

“You look troubled, my friend. Come.” Master Kalsamm tells them privately, ushering his former pupil into one of the battered command tents.

There in the sparse shade, the Togruta can find the thin cloths they’ve used before to soak in water, where they then apply it to the sun-flushed skin of the other. Coming from a small world where much of the people are nocturnal, his pada- former padawan does not have certain adaptive traits that protect them well from the light of the sun. Ideally, tolerance to ultraviolet rays would have continued to build over time, but with the state of the war, his former padawan had grown somewhat impatient, and believed the time had come to brute force it instead.

It will be the physical trial I will willingly bear if it means I am able to protect the peace of the innocents of this galaxy before it is too late, Masters.

His heart pangs, knowing that though they have tried to hide it, these developing sunburns are among the worst his student has suffered. “You’re in great pain today, my friend. Pulling away every time I put down another cloth, shielding your thoughts from me… Are you regretting your decision?” Kalsamm has always had such a trusting bond with his student, very rarely does the other find thoughts have been concealed from the greater current of the Force.

“I’m sorry, Master Kalsamm. There’s just a lot on my mind. Feel like an overwhelmed padawan again with everything I feel I must remember.” the newly-appointed Jedi Knight admits as their teacher lays another cooling rag to burning skin, doing their utmost to remain still this time. “I do not regret my decision.”

The 302nd Legion of the GAR is mine to command. A Clone captain named Law who offered to find me a new name today after one of the few conversations they had together so far.

“We know you introduced yourself to us as General Caelum, but is there a name you'd prefer to that? Or a name we could… give you? Like we give our brothers?"

They blink in confusion, unfettered curiosity. Scarcely met their commanding officer, explained that though they were born with the body of a boy, they are not limited to this ‘singular capacity of self’. When explaining ‘he is sometimes she is sometimes he’ only a short time ago, already, the one who called himself Law has shown more understanding than people they've spent significantly more time with.

“You don't seem confused, Captain Law. I am… surprised.”

Law was only newly promoted, unused to the change in rank, then. It's him who balks next. “Well, um, I don't see why it's something to be confused about. It's not my identity to question, only to respect, General.”

Indeed… didn't Master Kalsamm try explaining before that the Clones were engineered with things like obedience and respect for command in mind, given that the Kaminoans view them as… property? How heartbreaking.

If only I could let others feel what I do - that unique sound in the Force every lifeform takes, like a fingerprint. Captain Law: he is a beating heart, keeping time with the slow but relentless surf.

“Speaking with experience, young one?” they ask habitually. Most Clones haven't gotten used to the cultural quirk. Some hate it. Some don't care for it, nothing more. Others still, after buffeting the initial confusion, love it.

Captain Law does not indicate disdain for it.

“Young one's definitely applicable here because she's a couple of Growth Cycles older than me, I imagine, but… Yes.” Captain Law answers with a knowing chuckle and affirmative nod. “Yes, there's a Clone among us who was named Sister, by other brothers. So she knows she belongs.”

A new name can be thought up by the legion, so the General knows that they belong, too… If that's what they want.

Whether it is shouted across the battlefield in a rally cry, or whispered out of fear when the night is darkest, or spoken with naught but reverence, hearing their new name, given to them by their brave men, sparks a little more love for it with each passing day.

"Are Jedi forbidden to love, General Caelen?"

Caelen smiles gently, fondly. Firstly because of the use of the gifted name, followed shortly after by the surging feeling of interest and wonder. They cannot promise the best explanation, only their best effort to give it. "We are not. Love is only natural. It takes too many forms to make it forbidden, too. Compassion and empathy are siblings to the greater concept of love. To live is to love something, someone, not just other than yourself, but along with yourself. It is attachment that is… discouraged. Yet, attachment is only too natural. Jedi are not forbidden from loving, or to love. Common misconception." A gentle and curious 'why do you ask?' remains unspoken for now.

Canvas chews his bottom lip in thought for a moment, one of his hands grazing a scuff mark that mars his armor kit. "I see… Thank you, General Caelen. I was just curious. It's… something I've been wondering about."

"It was something Gunnar wondered." General Caelen deduces, recalling which of Canvas's batchmates that scuff mark once belonged to prior to him adopting it. "And something rooted up the memory within you, recently."

Canvas does not, or perhaps cannot elaborate at the time, instead only capable of nodding. Glancing towards the heavens, he studies the Jedi cruiser where it sits just out of reach of the planet’s gravitational pull.

The Harmonious. This ship was at one point under General Kalsamm’s command; but with Kalsamm’s untimely demise (which General Caelen emphasizes was a test meant for them, by the Force), it has been turned over to Caelen’s command instead. Same as the battalion, for the time being.

Ironic that he spent two weeks growing increasingly paranoid out of his mind on the Harmonious, after what happened to Scruffy, honestly. If the Force is capable of doing things like providing tests to (for?) the ones who can harness the many gifts and abilities within it, is it capable of having a sense of humor as well? (Albeit, a twisted one?)

“I still think of your batchmates, young Canvas,” Caelen shatters the otherwise contemplative silence that has elapsed between themself and their soldier, “though perhaps not as often as you, granted. While they were courageous men I had the honor to fight alongside, for a time, they were so much more to you.” Caelen omits the word only here, refusing to boil down any part of that memory where it is not necessary (like discussing matters regarding the Clones with the long-necks, whose discussions must reluctantly be carried out in terms of property and product for the duration of).

“I sensed at one point you were deeply ashamed, or perhaps embarrassed by how much Gunnar once disliked me. Perhaps… even hated me, for one particular moment.” General Caelen admits.

‘We’re their cannon fodder, they don’t care about us. Throw enough brothers at the problem until it goes away and then don’t so much as mourn us.’

Canvas can do little but wince when the words come back to him. Those bitter, stinging words said in a moment of great frustration after five long, grueling days of trying to brute-force their way into a Separatist outpost. So many brothers had been hurt, or picked off by enemy fire. The respective medics of the legion and the battalion had sacrificed so much of their sleep, their sanity, tending to the wounded and the dying in vain hopes of helping them limp along until the next volley, the next thermal detonator, the next anything. He still remembers the way Gunnar’s face fell just a fraction, chipping that shell of stoicism, when the brother’s body suddenly went limp almost the moment the medic, Rid (short for Riddance), took over.

“You didn’t deserve what he said about you, General…”

“It’s okay, young one. I harbor no hurt in my heart for your brother’s words.” General Caelen assures Canvas, “Grief takes many forms. For Gunnar, it was anger. For Faro, it was protectiveness, was it not?”

Maybe it was. It felt more like it was more a matter of having an impatient, second shadow, honestly.

Keep up. Don’t fall behind. Yes, it’s not fun to lug a 4.15kg gun, but that’s no excuse to leave it laying around.

If something happened to you… I’d never forgive myself.

“I guess.” Canvas admits with a shrug. “I’m sure what you saw of Faro was… different, General.”

The Jedi from Little Archossi bobs their head, the movement slow. “He was always so reserved. But, I never once questioned for a moment how much he cared about the larger cause when he did not devote his time to your batch.” The General pauses here for a moment, offering a wistful, but reflective expression to accompany the smile. “While the Force could not tell me everything in the times I meditated for answers, answers I sought trying to meet the needs of my men while aiding my former teacher in his assignments, it told me enough. Faro would have sooner deserted the GAR than bury another batchmate were it not for the guilt of abandoning all his other brothers just to save you and Fluke, on the days his grief was strongest.”

Short of accusing the Force-wielder of lying, Canvas challenges that claim. “I don't know if I believe that… that doesn't sound like something Faro would do.” The notion is disturbing to him, immediately speaking. Desert the GAR? Discard his sense of loyalty and honor for something so… so selfish and self-serving? All because of grief?

He can't imagine that of Faro, he tells the general. He doesn't want to.

“No… of course. I'm sorry for upsetting you to suggest such a thing.” General Caelen apologizes in earnest. “I was wrong to do so. Forgive me, for any malice.”

A solitary trill sounds from their respective comm devices, a warning. It’ll be time for the task force to depart ten minutes from now. Canvas won’t have the time to finish, maybe even amend, the conversation with General Caelen and see Scruffy before he has to leave like his brother asked. So it’s time to smooth the ice, “I should go see Scruffy like I promised; but General, before I go… Please don’t be so hard on yourself, just as you encourage us. I know what you said wasn’t meant in malice. I swear it.”

The Force-wielder born on a strange little planet before spending many years in the Jedi Temple to hone their connection to the great galactic tapestry sacrificed not complete connection to, but rather a full immersion in the culture of their home planet. The Chossi conduct themselves in a clan-like structure, placing great importance in paying penances for their acts or words of malice, if they do not feel it is deserved or justified.

Fact of the matter is that Caelen sees their unit of troops as a clan on a symbolic level; to say I swear it acknowledges the process of offering penance has started, but will not be necessary.

And so Caelen returns the acknowledgement. “So you swear it. Thank you, young Canvas.”

He has been dismissed, so he wastes no more time, calling “May the Force be with you, General!” as clearly as he can before breaking into a run; knowing where he will need to go in order to find Scruffy is some way off, and he needs to hurry if he wants to get there with time to spare.

“Ouch!” “Ow!"

They'll likely bruise one another's brains with the force their buckets have knocked against each other, given how Canvas didn't slow down in the slightest as he was bottoming-out the small hill he had just run down to get here. The stars in the fuzziest edge of his vision are only just beginning to clear, fire in his lungs sputtering out.

He doesn't let a little thing like the fretful way Scruffy gives his helmet a once-over for any chipping (the same way a young nat-born’s mother inspects a scraped knee, minus the cooing and fussing) give him any pause in what he has to say.

"You gotta promise me to come back."

Scruffy looks at his little brother from the same Growth Cycle, a different Batch, with nothing but deep, emotional pain and hurt. "Canvas you… you know I can't. You know what Commander Juke says about those kinds of promises."

The desperation in him does not care. Not right now. "Yeah-yeah-yeah the poetic kark he read somewhere, but please -" Strong arms throw themselves around him, and helmets knock against one another a second time as Scruffy initiates one of those hugs he's become famous in the combined unit for. Hugs where he pulls you in close with one arm, cupping the back of your head, reminiscent of how one holds an infant's head when they're adorably too young and floppy to support the weight of it themselves.

War has not stolen all Scruffy's warmth and tenderness, his love for his brothers. It has not made him bitter. It has changed him; chewed him up in its cruelty and jagged edges and spit him out with little regard for how softly he will land… but Scruffy has not lost his spirit in spite of all that.

Nor his patience. "I will do my best, Canvas, okay?" Scruffy pulls Canvas tighter, if possible, and he hopes Vas can’t hear the heavy swallow in his throat. It may prove difficult, but he’d rather not cry if it can be helped. With a clearer head, the shame has hit him that he was so… oppositional with his commanding officers. Defiant. He should be punished for daring to be so- so insubordinate! He’s never given them problems before, why did he have to start now?

“Maker, I should be in so much more trouble for talking back to Commander Juke like that…”

Canvas hums thoughtfully, not quite in agreement, while pushing back from Scruffy. Let me go, please, it asks. He’ll feel constricted before long if Scruff had his way in this state. He agreed to stay on the task force only because the time to depart was getting down to the wire, and no other brothers had volunteered themselves. He’s there, admittedly if only to make it less of a hassle for Commander Juke, and to keep the peace.

“I don’t know. Maybe the commander will let it go…” It seemed plausible, to Canvas. At least in the moment. “You do a good job of hiding it, but you tend to take things pretty hard when you feel you’ve messed up ever since the… well, the tripwire. You’ll punish yourself worse than any reprimand.”

There’s a soft and breathless chuckle from under the helmet. “Do I, now? What gave it away?” When Canvas doesn’t answer, perhaps considering how best to explain, Scruffy changes his tune after a note of the time. “Actually, pretend I didn’t say anything: not exactly a lot of time before I have to go.”

He probably had five minutes at the most before Commander Juke called upon his brothers and it was time to embark on this mission. It would be strange, seeing as they are doing this without General Caelen to guide them, lead them, for the first time since the Togruta Force-wielder perished. They’ve just grown so used to this arrangement; attached to it even, if they had to admit to it. And they have. But the Clones recognize this isn’t the healthiest situation for the Chossi-born General.

This is so much responsibility for you. You were only ever meant to lead one legion. You can’t do this forever. It’s just not feasible.

“Give those clankers hell for me.” Canvas requests when the call comes in to board the gunships on Scruffy’s comms. Quickly and gently as he’s able, he and Scruffy touch their helmets together, hoping the other is peering through the t-visor back at him. “For the General, too.” Canvas softly adds, knowing that while his brothers will embark this mission alone out of trust, the Jedi would still desire to accompany them out of principal and bond.

This, Scruffy can promise. This is what he was made to do, after all. This is what necessitated his very creation: to fight the coming pan-galactic threat it was believed the Republic would one day face. A being of flesh and blood, far superior to any metal amalgamation. This is the grander purpose he’s been made to believe his every breath is dedicated to.

And it is true. But it isn’t everything his breath is given for.

Scruffy leaves his younger brother with an oath before he must run for the LAATs, mustering as much conviction as he can into a soldier’s creed to make it as meaningful as any loving expression.

“For the Republic. For my brothers.”

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#frostfics #Brothers & Batchmates #star wars #swtcw #sw tcw #tcw #star wars headcanons #clone oc: canvas #clone oc: scruffy #clone oc: stick #clone oc: carver #clone oc: cairn #clone oc: cypher #clone oc: commander juke #clone oc: captain law #jedi oc: caelen #clone oc: gunnar/faro/cryfar/fluke #clone oc: arc nockite

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