#alternative universe everybody lives

[levieske]

(𝟓) 𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐦𝐞

In which Yuji Itadori accidentally spoils Hana Akiwara’s plans by ingesting Sukuna’s finger, and Satoru Gojo is constantly humbled as a result.

satoru gojo x ofc x suguru geto

[ canon divergence, fix-it au, everybody lives, no kenjaku, no shibuya incident, jjk s1, slow-burn, aged-up characters, age gap, questionable relationships, mentor-student relationships, unresolved sexual tension, more mature and graphic in future chapters, crack heavy for now, tvd references if you squint ]

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“Idiot.” Hana grumbled under her breath as the door clicked shut behind Kenji, signaling his departure. She turned to face the annoying older sorcerer, who hovered too close for comfort. “Ignore him.”

He was looking at her with an amused smile. Yuji, who stood rigidly beside them, seemed to be waiting for a fight to break out. Maybe it just would. Hana scooped to the other side of the couch before Satoru could take her brother’s seat on the armrest. He seemed entertained by her awkwardness, as he took it once she had already put some space between them.

Prick. Hana took back what she said about him looking normal and less annoying.

The man patted the space that Hana had vacated, and Yuji hesitantly took it.

“So, where were we?” The man adjusted his glasses, his eyes twinkling with a mischievous sparkle. “Ah, yes, Jujutsu Tech. With your brother’s dramatic exit, I assume we no longer need his blessing?”

Hana scrowled. She had no desire to engage in this conversation, and neither had Kenji. Her twin had an “akiwaresque” line of thinking, you could say. His disdain for Satoru was no secret; he saw the sorcerer as nothing more than a nuisance, an imbecile and a stalker. Kenji was convinced that getting involved with sorcerers was a risky move, especially when dealing with an unhinged sorcerer from one of the Big Three Families.

The siblings had been unsuccessful in their attempts to avoid drawing attention to themselves, as being active members in jujutsu seemed to attract other active members. The Akiwaras had decided to stay away from them since January. Not that there were many curse users lingering in Tokyo after whatever happened in December… The Night Parade of a Hundred Demons.

Hana shrunk herself in her seat, shaking off the gloomy feeling that thinking about that brought her. Kenji and her were in the US, peacefully celebrating the festivities with their family when hell broke loose in Shinjuku and Kyoto. Hana exhaled, they were safe.

Well, as safe as they could be now that their paths had intertwined with sorcerers.

The constant presence of Gojo and the looming threat that hung over their heads were already taking a toll on Hana, fueling her temper and her need for surrender. She had even noticed a shift in Kenji’s judgment. Whether it was driven by boredom, the realization that they couldn’t get rid of Gojo, or having heard Hana bawl her eyes out too much for his liking; Kenji was having a change of heart. 

The heart-to-heart the twins had after Yuji’s death and subsequent resurrection had been a turning point. Hana’s tears had flowed freely, a release of pent-up emotions she couldn’t quite comprehend. Then, after her eyes were all irritated and her head hurt from crying, they had weighed their options:

Option A: Run away.

Option B: Surrender.

And, option C: Fight (this was their favorite)

Option A was out of the question. Nuh-uh. They had come to Japan with a purpose; to stop hiding and practice jujutsu freely. Option B was annoying and option C had to be discarded if they ever wanted to live in peace. So B they settled with. Of course, they wouldn’t give up easily. They had some requests for Gojo and if they could buy themselves more time, they would. In case the situation escalated, they were also prepared for option C and A. In that specific order, yes.

Realistically speaking, as now turned pacifists, there were few paths the Akiwaras could follow that didn't involve a bunch of questionable stuff to get rid of their problem. They weren’t particularly opposed to it if things got to that point, but Kenji recognized Yuji’s importance in his sister’s life. He was considering option B for her sake, begrudgingly. It was one of the reasons why he left her to deal with Satoru, but he was also just a prick.

Kenji only had to endure him for less than an hour. It was unfair.

“Um, Hana?” Itadori’s gentle shakes drew her attention back to the conversation. He gave her a concerned stare. Behind him, his teacher looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “I asked if Kenji and you had thought it over?”

“Oh, yes… We did.” Hana nodded, speaking softly.

“And?” Satoru pressed, leaning in slightly.

“We will, but-!” She made a pause and held up a hand at Gojo, halting his response. “Not yet. Not until Yuji does, alright? We want a break from all this mess.”

The sorcerer’s skepticism was palpable. “I’m glad you chose correctly, but what exactly would prevent you from running away?”

“Nothing.” She admitted with a smile, relishing the wariness in his tone. “But I think it’ll be great if we started on better terms and, since you don’t trust us and we don’t trust you, we’ve decided to show you our little collection of cursed trinkets.” His glare became more pointed. Hana rolled her eyes. “ And I’ll give you back the finger. Just let me end the sentence, geez.”

Yuji muffled a laugh behind his hand at the exchange. Hana was probably the only person able to annoy his mentor this way.

“Excellent.” The sorcerer’s smile returned, his demeanor shifting to one of satisfaction. “And, just so we are clear, I didn’t say I didn’t trust you, I just didn’t trust you too much! But I do trust you a little.”

The curse user lifted her thin, black eyebrows. “You should really work on your words, Satoru.”

“Hey! I’m being honest here.” Satoru leaned on the couch’s backrest, inclining to his side in an uncomfortable position. “You didn’t let me down.”

Hana leaned in the opposite direction, using Yuji as a human wall dividing her space from his. “I don’t need your approval. You’re not my teacher.”

“But I will be!” Satoru countered with a hint of triumph.

“Whatever.” Hana rolled her eyes, her sigh was a soft exhalation of her frustration with him. “Do you actually want to see our artifacts or not?” Gojo rose from his seat, almost too enthusiastically for her liking. She gave him a look, her gray eyes inspecting him before she continued. “No touching, just watching, got it?”

Both Gojo and Itadori nodded in agreement, the latter in a more credible manner. Akiwara stood and led them down the corridor to a simple, built-in closet. With a flick of her wrist, she slid open the door and revealed shelves full of different talismans, amulets and artifacts. Each piece emanated a distinct and unique cursed energy that was only now being noticeable.

Itadori’s eyes widened at the sight, completely awed. Gojo, however, remained unfazed, his attention drawn instead to the protective rune etched inside the closet. He had seen it in the living and kitchen area, alongside another he didn’t recognize. He guessed this one hid cursed energy and the other prevented unwanted guests like him.

“You have quite the liking for hiding yourselves, heh?” Satoru voiced his thoughts, to which Hana replied with a hum and shrug.

It was something he should have expected, now that he knew what kind of trinkets they had. Their little collection amounted to quite the sum of cursed objects Hana and her brother had been manufacturing over the years. Or kindly borrowed , Satoru suspected as he eyed some objects he had briefly heard about. Thankfully, they weren’t special-grade type of cursed objects. They weren’t even powerful enough to have to be confiscated, but it still made him wonder if they were Hana’s practice dummies so to speak. The sorcerer wanted to believe she wasn’t using sorcerers as guinea pigs, but he had half a mind to ask about it.

Both Hana and Kenji had decided to show him their collection as a little truce, but Satoru knew he was one stupid comment away from having the cursed energy sucked out of him. It hadn’t been pleasant when the curse user to his left did it before and he’d love to never have to experience that ever again. Plus, the fact that his infinity proved to be useless with her unnerved him. Just as she kept some things to herself, he did too, forcing a small smile on his mouth as he eyed the trinkets again.

The woman watched as the man recognized some of the items, silently confirming his theory. The twins had a habit of taking what they deemed worthy of other curse users when they were, conveniently, unable to protest. It wasn’t stealing if what they took was stolen in the first place, alright?

Hana caught the movement out of the corner of her eye, Satoru’s hand inching towards the shelves. “No touching!” She chastised him, swatting his hand away from the closet.

Yuji stopped looking at the insides in curiosity and turned to the sound of her voice, anticipating some kind of argument to erupt over the tension. Instead, his mentor only chuckled at his friend’s fierce protectiveness. She crossed her arms as Itadori scratched his head, knowing he was probably overdoing it with the worrying. He didn’t comprehend if his teacher and his friend hated each other’s guts or were in the path of friendship. Also, Sukuna’s monologue recognizing some of the artifacts didn’t help his peanut-sized brain to decipher it either.

“Now, where’s the finger?” Gojo inquired, making Itadori realize he had probably missed Hana’s explanation about what was in the closet. It wasn’t like he would have understood that much about it, aside from the basics. 

“Obviously not here.” The girl closed the door with a swift movement. The oppressive cursed energy dissipated the moment the closet was shut, lessening the tension in the air. 

Hana retreated to her room, her steps quick and purposeful. Kneeling down, she lifted a specific loose floorboard with a familiarity, and peered into the hidden compartment only to find it empty. “Yuji?” Hana called him out, her voice tinged with a mix of confusion and accusation.

“Um, yes?” Her friend appeared at the doorway, his expression completely dumbfounded.

“Did you have a midnight snack?” Hana grimaced as Yuji blinked at the implication of her words stilling outside her room. “A finger, perhaps?”

The teacher stepped into her line of view, his towering presence filling the space next to Yuji. “You let him sleep in the same room you were hiding the finger?” He questioned the woman with a raised eyebrow.

“You said he was in complete control.” Hana tossed her black hair to the side and put the floorboard back in place before staring back at the man. Her gaze was defiant as she remained seated on the floor, earning another pointed look with a raised eyebrow from Satoru. “How would have I known?”

“Rookie mistake.” Satoru chidded, the corners of his mouth turning up in a knowing smile. He took a few long strides into her room and removed his black lenses, surveying the space with a critical eye. His gaze swept over the room, noting the absence of any residual cursed energy, save for the aura surrounding Yuji himself. “When dealing with a vessel, you need to be more careful.”

“I’m dealing with my friend.” Hana retorted, her voice softening despite her irritation. “Besides, isn’t it good that he consumed it? You were going to make him do it either way.”

“Well, yes, but in a controlled environment.” Satoru exhaled a sigh. He readjusted his glasses, his eyes meeting hers once more. “Did he take over… or anything?”

The two friends looked at each other before shaking their heads.

Gojo blinked, processing the silent exchange. “I was right, then. You have unknowingly made a binding vow of shorts with Sukuna, Yuji.” His tone was casual, almost conversational, as if they weren’t discussing the catastrophe a biding vow was. “And now he’s able to overpower you. We should learn what the grounds for that are, because you are strong enough to control him.”

Hana’s glare shifted from Gojo to Itadori, her eyes narrowing. “You didn’t think it was important to tell me you had made a binding vow with him?”

“We weren’t sure.” The vessel looked like a kicked puppy with his crestfallen expression.

“But now we are!” Gojo interjected, clapping his hands together with a sense of finality. “Isn’t it wonderful?”

Hana was seething and she felt a migraine brewing. She let out a long, drawn-out sigh, closing her eyes for a moment. When she opened her eyes, she lifted her face towards the older sorcerer. “If that’s all, can you leave?”

“We still haven’t discussed-” Satoru began, but Hana cut him off with a sharp gesture.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” She exclaimed, her arms crossing over her chest in a defensive posture.. “Just make up some story about me helping you with a mission or whatever. I need time, and I’d rather join when he does.” Her gaze flicked to Yuji, who had resorted to just watching them. Her friend had a feeling he hadn’t done a great job convincing Hana, so it would probably be best if he sat this one out… “What’s the point of making us enroll when summer break is about to start?”

Gojo’s smile was infuriatingly serene, too calm in comparison to what Akiwara was feeling. “You might have a point there.” He conceded and paused. “But don’t think I’m letting you guys off the hook.”

“Whatever.” Hana sighed, her voice a mixture of exasperation and resignation. “Just do something on my terms for once.”

Fortunately, the sorcerer didn't argue further, leaving her bedroom instead. Yuji muttered a goodbye, to which she gave an acknowledging nod, and he followed Satoru out of her home. It was only when she heard the front door close that Hana let out another tired breath, leaning against her bed while still sitting on the floor.

Fingerless Hana 2 - The Strongest 1

Gojo knew that woman had already put him in his place multiple times. Meeting her had been a humbling experience, to say the least. Yet, as he descended the stairs with Itadori, a small, triumphant smile played on his lips. He was slowly but surely going to make up for it.

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For a few more minutes, Hana remained motionless sitting on the floor of her room. Her thoughts were a whirlwind, circling the revelation of Sukuna’s binding vow with Yuji. All the possibilities of what could have happened to Kenji weighed heavily on her, complicating an already messy situation she found herself in. The brief mention of her nana the night before had stirred some memories in her, prompting her to get up from the floor. Hana walked towards her desk, where she had a framed picture of her grandmother and her. In the picture, a teenager Hana had her arms wrapped around her elderly grandmother. The photograph was a couple of years old, it was her high school graduation, before her grandmother got sick. Hana was looking beautiful, but what caught her eye was the necklace she always used to wear.

The actual necklace was hung over the frame. It was made from silver and had a small circular locket with a detailed design, adorned with a tiny ruby. It was probably the most expensive item she owned, and the one that held the most memories. Her nana, Mineko Akiwara, had made it when she ran away from Japan with her sister, who didn’t have cursed energy. She wore it regularly in fear of a sorcerer ever finding her.

When her own children showed no signs of jujutsu, Mineko had set the necklace aside, believing that cursed energy in their lineage had ended with her. The birth of Kenji and Hana, children of her second son, reignited her deepest fears. They had the spark of cursed energy, but it wasn’t until years later that they tapped into jujutsu and discovered their cursed techniques. Hana had inherited the clan’s cursed technique, whereas Kenji displayed a natural talent for crafting cursed tools and possessed a more subtle reserve of cursed energy, just like their grandmother had.

Most sorcerers of Mineko’s age and their ancestors had often lacked a distinct technique, their jujutsu watering down from generation to generation. Instead, they relied on their profound understanding and creation of cursed tools and weapons, their sharpness being passed down. Yet, it had proven not to be enough when the clan had to face the Big Three Families, and running was all that was left for them. Mineko was determined to keep her grandchildren away from sorcerers, mentoring Kenji how to make artifacts. His first creation was two rings that would cloak them completely from sorcerers. It was an emergency measure, sure, but they had put it to use in Japan.

For Hana, it was another story. Their nana had her using her old necklace, as a means to dwell down her cursed energy. The fear that sorcerer’s instilled in Mineko was still great, even if she was in a completely different continent and hadn’t met any of them in over thirty years. Her life had been marred by tragedy, the loss of her entire family at the hands of sorcerers left her with severe trauma that only shared with her sister. She had passed away before Hana and Kenji were born, and Mineko, being the matriarch of the clan, had to make some decisions for the well-being of her family. Her sons, nieces and nephews, as well as their respective spouses hadn’t opposed her choice. They felt the beacon Hana could grow up into, sadly. In her desperation, Mineko believed the best course was to veil Hana’s powers from the world.

Even as a little girl, Hana wasn’t capable of resenting her grandmother. The loss of her cursed energy when she wore the necklace was noticeable, feeling a void within. She knew a piece of herself was being restrained, but she remained an obedient child and never took off the necklace.

It was only at a family gathering that Hana’s interest in jujutsu was piqued. Most of her extended family had attended, filling her nana’s already packed home. Some of her relatives from her great aunt’s side started discussing jujutsu and the clan’s history. They mentioned Hana and her technique, which was the one who could “restore the family’s honor”. That was the Akiwara’s legacy, a centuries-old legend about a savior who would bring back the clan’s old glory and avenge their ancestors. To Hana, it was some story her ancestors had made to keep their hopes up, as they were being massacred left and right. It was a self-fulfilling prophecy, really. If sorcerers kept killing them, it was a matter of time before one tried to return the favor. Yet, as much as she disliked sorcerers, she didn’t want to start a war.

Not then, and not now.

Mineko’s reaction to their conversation was one of alarm. She got pretty upset with the other family members, as she didn’t want them putting those ideas in Hana’s head, but it was already too late. Hana asked her grandmother about what they meant, and Mineko reluctantly explained that her technique was supposed to be able to beat the Big Three Families. She never wanted to put Hana at risk and believed she would be safer away from jujutsu, which they knew was the truth. Hana, nearing the end of high school by that time, was determined to fly to Japan and get stronger. It wasn’t to comply with the family's legacy, but for the peace of mind it would offer her grandmother. Mineko’s heart swelled with mixed emotions, pride mingling with fear. Kenji supported his sister’s decision, also believing that going to Japan would be great in order for both of them to get stronger and possibly to allow their family to come back to their roots.

The twins left for Tokyo the fall following their graduation, as nothing else aside from their family and a few friends stopped them from going. They settled down in Kichijoji, a neighborhood close to what would eventually become their campus, Sugisawa College. In the time being before the start of the school year in April, they grew accustomed to a routine of training and working at their part-time jobs. Hana was recruited by the café she currently worked at, and Kenji was briefly a supermarket clerk before taking a position as an instructor in the local gym they frequented. Kenji wanted his sister to learn self defense, just in case running away wasn’t an option one day. Back in high school, Hana used to be on the track team. She was an excellent runner, quite faster than the average, but also wanted to be able to fend for herself. In the first months in Tokyo, she made quick progress while her brother perfected what he already knew.

But their learning didn’t stop there; the twins also trained jujutsu at home. Kenji had deciphered the rune that made cursed energy untraceable inside their flat after a few weeks of investigation and sleepless nights, a matter Hana wasn’t able to help him with. Until then, his sister wore Mineko’s necklace even to go to sleep, just as she had done for the last eight years. Kenji’s rune allowed her to get used to her own cursed energy, as well as accustomed to sensing others’ and seeing curses, in the safety of their home. Her brother counted and described many curses when they went outside, a great contrast to America’s fewer and weaker curses. Hana worried that without her necklace, the flood of cursed energy might overwhelm her senses and not only because she was fairly new to it. Since her technique specialized in detecting cursed energy, she was quite sensitive like somebody with good hearing or a strong sense of smell

Nowadays, Hana wondered if that was what Satoru felt like. She suspected his problem was a lot bigger than hers was, as the man had to cover his eyes. Her nana had mentioned briefly the abilities the Six-Eyes had or, at least, what she knew about them. Satoru was basically the best glorified curse detector.

In those initial months in Tokyo, the necklace remained clasped around Hana’s neck. It was a part of her, the memories of being gently chided by Mineko for forgetting to wear it still clear in her mind. Yet, Hana was also doing it for her grandmother’s sake; the poor woman would have a heart attack if she knew Hana was “flaunting” her cursed energy. What the Akiwara’s matriarch hadn't realized was that the necklace also emanated a strong cursed energy and it was hard to miss once you had spotted it.

That was what provoked Hana’s second meeting with another fellow cursed user to take a different turn. However, her first meeting was a lot grimmer.

The twins had been searching for a cursed object for Hana to channel and practice on, as she still didn’t have a great grip on her technique. Using it on Kenji was out of the question. If she stripped off a sorcerer all their cursed energy, they would die. The siblings found out about that when their paths crossed with a curse user, a man that had been looking for the very same cursed trinket they just acquired. He made sure to let them know of his intentions, knocking Kenji unconscious upon his arrival. Hana used her technique on the man, grabbing him by the shoulders.

She didn’t realize what she had done until she dropped his gray, desiccated body. That was the effect of her technique when she exceeded the limit of how much cursed energy the victim produced. If the rate at which she took it was faster, she would eventually deplete her opponent of cursed energy.

This encounter made Hana more wary of sorcerers, if that was even possible. She practiced daily with the tool, while Kenji made more of them for her to train on. His trinkets were weaker in comparison, but she dedicated herself to master the balance, to understand when to stop at varying cursed energy levels. There were more positives to using objects. It meant they could put cursed energy inside it again and reuse it, whereas if Hana used sorcerers, their bodies would pile up.

Do not get it twisted: Hana didn’t want to hurt anybody, but she also didn’t feel remorseful for taking that man’s life. The woman would always choose their safety over a stranger’s life. There just were more risks in letting the curse user live when he already had made it known he wanted to kill them.

Another great point in using cursed objects was that they could sell them afterwards. There was a large underground market many curse users were a part of that they could exploit. You see, the average idiot buying off of them didn’t realize that the cursed object they were sold had been stripped out of its original cursed energy and instead had been replaced by some to resemble it, making it practically useless. The item didn’t have its original properties, which meant Hana and Kenji were actually doing Jujutsu Tech a favor, getting all of these dangerous weapons away from curse users' paws and, instead, giving them useless copies. 

Their operation was a well-oiled machine, shipping out packages to eager buyers who were none the wiser. For safety reasons, it was best if they weren’t present when the buyer realized their mistake, but there was one curse user who offered a great sum of money. Money they needed for college, as what they had gathered until that moment wasn’t enough to cover for both their tuitions.

They needed 1.64 million yen, roughly 10k dollars, and they were halfway there by the start of December. The Akiwaras had three months to come up with the rest of money to continue with their education, and the stranger curse user’s offer of 900,000 yen to sweeten them had worked. Mineko Akiwara was adamant they went to college and tried to live a normal life, and the twins' efforts to accomplish her wishes grew as her health deteriorated. That was the only thing their grandmother asked them to do, since she knew there was no point in stopping them from going to Japan. Both Hana and Kenji knew their grandmother wouldn’t live to see them graduate, but they wanted to make her proud and happy that they were enjoying life despite jujutsu.

Thankfully, tuition in Japan was less expensive than in the States, but it still didn’t mean they could ask their family for help. The Akiwaras didn’t come from money and some of their relatives were already struggling. They actually intended on sending them money from their “business” once their college fees were paid.

So, against Kenji’s judgment, Hana accepted the curse user’s kind offer and met him one cold night of December in a quiet park. The silence was filled with her breaths and her steps as she navigated through the park. Whatever bad feeling she had about the encounter was kept at bay with the reminder that all she had to do was drain his opponent if it came to it.

The man she was to meet had signed off as S.G., and she didn’t even know what he looked like. They just agreed to a place and a time, but Hana believed she wouldn’t have trouble spotting him. Even wearing her necklace, which prevented her from recognizing cursed energy, they would probably be the only people in the park at that hour. It wouldn’t be difficult.

Just as she thought about it, she reached their agreed spot. It was a bench near the lake, already occupied by a man. He had been pretty punctual, which was something she appreciated.

The sound of her boots scraping the paved pathway made the stranger turn his head towards the source. As her figure emerged from the trees and approached him, the man inspected her. Hana was clad in black clothing excepting her scarf, which engulfed her neck making her look even tinier than she already was. She sported a layered bob cut that framed her pale face and made her gray eyes adorned with eyeliner pop.

The image would have made him chuckle if it weren’t for the fact that he hadn’t noticed an ounce of cursed energy emitting from her, only from the object he had purchased. There were lines forming on his forehead before he erased his annoyed expression with a more kind one. Hana lifted her thin eyebrows at his reaction, insulted.

He probably wasn’t expecting a woman to arrive, just as she wasn’t expecting a monk.

The man had beautiful sharp features and pretty fox-like brown eyes, that closed into crescent moons when he smiled upon her arrival. A very fake smile now that she had seen him frown, Hana may add. He wore blue robes and sandals, which resembled a buddhist priest’s attire. Hana thought he seemed fairly young to be one, and knowing he was a curse user just like her, it was probably some kind of ruse.

The woman put her hand inside her bag and grabbed the object the fake monk was waiting for. With a flick of her wrist, Hana tossed the object towards him, keeping some distance from him. The man caught the item with ease, his smile faltering. He then took a stack of money from under his clothes and actually handed it to her, like a normal person would. Hana stored it in her bag, smiling now that the exchange was complete. She spun on her heel, thoughts already drifting to the warmth of hot chocolate.

But the man wasn’t done. “I paid you, and you’re not going to tell me the object is fake?” His voice sliced through the cold night air, sharp with accusation.

Stupid monk. 

Hana stopped dead in her tracks, as panic took over her. She mustered the picture perfect face of innocence before turning to the man. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. It isn’t fake.” Her voice didn’t waver, as she feigned confusion.

“No, you’re right.” He shook his head, getting up from his seat on the bench. “It is the original piece, but it doesn’t have the cursed energy it used to have.” His eyes firmly fixed on her, his expression worryingly tranquil as he discarded the useless trinket onto the frosty grass. “ You don’t have the cursed energy you should have. I suppose that’s the job of the talisman you carry, am I correct?”

Stupid monk and his stupid keen eye.

Hana was frozen a few steps away from him, almost rooted to the spot. Her hand instinctively went to her necklace when she saw him try to shorten the distance between them. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” She warned him, her voice barely above a whisper

But the man, sharing the white-haired sorcerer’s stubbornness, paid her no mind. Hana took off her necklace with a swift movement, her other palm colliding with the man’s chest before he stepped closer. She held onto his robes, feeling the exhilarating rush of sucking the cursed energy from him. A pleased smile played on her lips as he grimaced at the feeling. The man had a big amount of cursed energy, Hana noticed. She still didn’t fully know how to control her technique, the process stopping as she wasn’t concentrating anymore.

The man retracted a few steps from her, staring at her with wide eyes. Hana’s stance remained defensive, her hand extended in front of her warily. The man had underestimated her, that much was clear, but he also took notice of her hesitant nature. Her raw power was unrefined, yet the potential was undeniable. The cursed object he was looking for was nothing in comparison to who had delivered it to him. It had been four years since he had seen an exhibit of power like that, so needless to say he was intrigued.

Especially with a technique like that.

“That’s all?” Hana challenged him with a look, lowering her arm.

The man didn’t respond, which she attributed to shock. Instead of waiting for his answer, the woman turned and started walking. She had barely taken a few steps when his voice pierced the silence.

“Wait!” He called out.

Hana paused, her shoulder tensing, but spun back. “I’d rather not talk to curse users I’m not making business with.” She sighed. She was growing tired of his shenanigans already.

The man gave her an eerie smile. His expressions seemed performed, only natural when she had taken him by surprise. “Meet me here on Saturday and I won’t spread the word about your shady business.” He proposed, a certain glint in his eyes, but just Hana raised her brows at him in an unimpressed manner. “Alright, and I’ll give you an extra 100,000 yen.”

That was better.

The mention of money drew a smile from Hana as she clasped her necklace back on. The man watched it work with interest. “Saturday at 12, sharp. Right here. And you’re buying lunch, eh…” She trailed off, her brow furrowing slightly.  “What’s your name again?”

“Suguru Geto.” He replied, a note of amusement in his voice that did seem real. Hana nodded in acknowledgement, his name didn’t ring any bells, although she found it cute. “Yours?”

“Hana Akiwara.” She shot back and turned again, this time decided to get home no matter what he said. She waved her hand without looking in his direction, which was more dismissal than farewell. “See you then, Suguru!”

As she vanished into the night, Suguru stood motionless, a rare flicker of confusion crossing his features at the use of his first name by the stranger. It was the first time somebody was able to make him break his practiced character multiple times in a row, which he found more interesting than unsettling. His seller was turning out to be a delightful surprise.

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previous - ao3 link - masterlist - next

"Why is a filthy monkey delivering the cursed object?"

"Filthy monkey? Is this a racist thing?" Hana was stunted. "Look man, I just want the money"

i initially wanted to add this but geto is like one of the characters i want to take seriously hahahahaha

i promise as the story goes on i'll make my tone more serious for the tiniest bits of angst i'll write, but be warned that this is mostly a fix-it crack fic, i don't want to see my babies suffer :(

mmmm also let's forget i said kenji and hana lived in sendai, i didn't take into account the distance it had from tokyo so it didn't make much sense... sugisawa college is now in tokyo

on another note, has anybody noticed the vampire diares references at all???? or the fact that hana and kenji are basically mikasa and levi from shingeki physically?? i just love when i notice this in other fics, kinda cute, hope you don't find it annoying!!

and as always, comments and suggestions are highly appreciated! hope you guys like how it's turning out <3

[salem-witch-slut]

Unrequited

Ellie Williams X Abby Anderson

SYNOPSIS: Ellie and Abby hate each other, and all of Jackson knows it. But when Ellie has a dream about the blonde one night, she suddenly starts to feel things that are not exactly hate... and Ellie does not like it.

WARNINGS: Swearing, Everybody Lives AU, loser!ellie, no real warnings its SFW

DIVIDERS MADE BY @cafekitsune

for @olliesasimplething who always encourages me to keep writing. my biggest supporter

It was a cold day in winter when they first met 3 years ago. One of the worst blizzards to ever come about Jackson was upon the city and two patrol groups were stranded in the snow. Teton County, and Elk Creek became a maze of white and ice, and the creek group took shelter within an abandoned library, while the other group was forced to keep moving…

Infected were swarming the massive office warehouse building near the lodge on the Teton County trail, and the two assigned to the route before the sun came up were able to spot what was happening. A young woman, no more than 24, tackled by a runner into the snow, struggling to keep its gnashing teeth away from her but failing due to clear exhaustion.

Joel reacted first. His revolver pressed into the runner’s face, and he fired a quick round, reaching down and shouting at the blonde to give him his hand. She was disoriented, shaking, but otherwise unharmed as she stood on her feet.

“We’re gonna have to run!” Joel warned as his brother, Tommy, laid down the cover fire that was needed to escape. The blonde went along with the two men wordlessly, and it seemed that she was just as desperate to escape as they were. No questions were asked as they ran throughout the entire building, deflecting attacks and fighting off the infected that just seemed to never, ever, ever end.

The group made it to the lodge where two horses were, but the infected just kept coming. Very slowly, Tommy reached out to get the woman’s attention. Her heart was racing and her pupils were dilated, barely able to focus on what was what.

“Hey, I’m Tommy, and that’s Joel,” Her eyes flittered between the two and she shared a moment of centering herself. Almost like her ears were still ringing from the gunshot. “What’s your name?”

“Abby,” She stated, out of breath as her hands trembled on the gun with every bang against the door that was just barricaded shut. Tommy asked her if she was okay, and she barely agreed as she took a step back, almost like she was preparing for the door to come down at any second.

The two brothers seemed to have different ideas about what to do. Joel wanted to get out of here, but Tommy was adamant that staying put was the best option due to the horses being with them and they would not outrun the blizzard.

Abby was quick to offer a solution. “My friends! My friends are at a mansion just north of here; It’s fenced in, we have the whole perimeter secure.”

Joel looked towards his brother and nodded. “It’s the Baldwin place. That could work.”

“I’ll get the door!” Tommy rushed to the front door and began to untie the horses while Joel put his pistol down.

“You ride with me, come on!” Joel told Abby who was quick to agree, following close behind him like her life depended on it; and it, in fact, did depend on it. Without these two, she would be deader than dead. As soon as she was close to Joel, she grabbed his hand and he lifted her onto the saddle behind him.

In seconds, they were gone.

All Ellie needed to hear was that Tommy and Joel never showed up to the lookout point. In mere seconds, she was out the door on Shimmer to find him in the snow, regardless of the blizzard state outside. She split up from the group, covering the entire Teton County trail in a few hours.

“Joel! Tommy!” Ellie shrieked over the howling wind, desperate to find the two most important people in her life. Shimmer ran through the snow quickly, her rider frantically searching the area and coming to a halt when she saw the dead infected at the gate of the Baldwin place… Her stomach dropped and she immediately dismounted from her horse, tying Shimmer up to a tree out of the direct sight line as she made her way down the hill.

Ellie knew the Teton County trail and she’s been to the mansion before. She knew how to get in the back way. Her legs wobbled in terror as she slunk down through the hole in the fence and jumped the railing to get inside. “Joel? Tommy?”

Her voice seemed to reach on deaf ears as she came in through… an open sliding glass door? Something about this felt far too eerie. Ellie’s fear was at an all-time high as she moved through the mansion, looking for something… anything…

The sounds of voices had her jumping as she pulled out her pistol and followed them. Those voices could belong to anybody, and trespassers were always a problem, but Jackson’s policy wasn’t to shoot first, it was to see if they would shoot first… Ellie breathed slowly and followed the voices, down a large staircase to a door that led to a basement.

Laughter echoed in the room and Ellie gulped, grabbing the door handle and slowly pushing the wood out of her way. She was not expecting the number of people inside of this room and before Ellie could even blink, she had at least four guns pointed at her face.

“Hey, hey, put your fucking gun down!” Ellie shouted, not giving one shit that she was outnumbered as she lifted the pistol and stepped inside of the room. “Back up! What the fuck are you—”

“Ellie!” The voice rang in her ears as Ellie looked up and almost immediately, her fears were quenched. Joel ran right up to her and immediately put his hand on her pistol. “Ellie, calm down, it’s alright. They ain’t dangerous—”

Ellie didn’t even care about the crowd as she immediately wrapped her arms around the man and let out a breath of relief. Joel stumbled back and wrapped his arms around her, pushing his nose into the top of her head and scratching her face somewhat with his beard. “C’mon now, what’s this all about?”

A moment passed before Ellie stepped back and immediately shoved him with her hands, making him stumble back yet again. “You fuckin’ dick, don’t scare me like that!”

“Could- could you put the gun down, Ellie?” Joel said, holding out a hand and the girl sighed with a slight growl, tucking the gun back into the waistband of her jeans and putting her hands on her knees. She was covered in snow and her nose was red from how long she had been traversing the landscape looking for him and his brother. “Here, there’s a fire in this room, alright? C’mon.”

The others in the room seemed to be relaxing at the girl’s presence as Ellie stepped in time with Joel, going to the other room. “Who are these guys?”

“They’re just passin’ through Wyoming, trynna get back to Washington… We came across one of ‘em in the snow ‘bout 2 hours ago? She was getting’ swarmed by infected near the lodge,” Joel explained what happened and why they had to hunker down and wait out the storm. Tommy was sitting by the fire and Ellie let out a sigh of relief at seeing him, crouching down next to the blonde man and whacking him in the shoulder.

“Hey! Respect yer elders, girl!” Tommy joked, making Ellie chuckle before she sat down on her knees and put both hands on the warm ground near the little firepit. “Ellie, this here’s Abby. She helped us get outta the storm.”

Ellie was confused who he was talking about but she heard heavy boots fall in front of her and she looked up to see a blonde that was at least half a foot taller than her, long hair in a braid going down her shoulder as she knelt down next to the fire across from her.

“Hey,” Abby said, looking at the girl for a bit too long before she looked over her shoulder at where Joel went, seeing him talk to a man with reddish-blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail. “See those two got along almost immediately?”

“Well, yer dad’s easy to like,” Tommy shrugged his shoulders. Ellie watched Joel converse with who was apparently Abby’s father, seeing them talk away from the group a little and try to keep things hush. Ellie had a suspicion of what he was declaring…

That was over 3 years ago. The rest would be history. Joel said that if they didn’t find what they were looking for in Seattle, they were welcome to come back to Jackson. Half a year passed by, and just as spring was coming to an end for summer to roll in, the group reappeared at the gates in front of Jackson, minus a few people… It seemed that Jordan, Leah, and Nick didn’t make it back with them.

It was almost too easy for them to integrate into the life of Jackson as Joel vouched they were good people and they were offered a place to stay. At first, Ellie was indifferent to Abby and the rest of the group… but that began to wear thin.

Abby was quickly becoming a pain in the ass. Whenever they were paired together for patrol, which happened quite often, Abby insisted searching everywhere and anywhere possible, causing more trouble than was needed and nearly getting them killed on several occasions.

And it didn’t take long for Abby to break Ellie’s record of the amount of infected killed on a patrol. It didn’t matter what either of them did, everything felt like a competition, and Ellie was losing. She hated losing.

It was the night after a particularly hostile patrol, and Ellie was sporting a brand new set of stitches on her cheekbone and two splints on her left ring and pinky finger while sitting at the bar in the Tipsy Bison. Dina was sitting next to her, going on about something that Ellie just wasn’t paying attention to, but then she flinched at hearing the door open. Ellie didn’t need to look to see who it was.

Abby’s right arm was in a sling for a few days thanks to an infected knocking her onto the ground and having her roll down a hill into a riverbed. Ellie laughed at first, but she knew that Abby needed her to save her sorry ass, so she was quick to join her at the bottom of the hill.

She was so busy worrying about the runner that she didn’t hear the clicker approaching and before she could defend herself, the infected knocked her down onto the ground, her fingers breaking under her body and her face slicing against a very sharp stone in the dirt.

Everything was fucked, and Ellie was pissed off, but Abby was just as equally pissed as she approached the bar and slammed her left hand down onto the counter. “What the fuck is your problem?”

“I’m not the idiot that went into that trailer—”

“You’re such an asshole,” Abby grabbed Ellie by the front of her shirt and lifted her off the barstool. “You stood there and laughed at that runner taking me down!”

Ellie shoved her hands into Abby’s chest, a hand getting too close to her dislocated shoulder and making her grunt in pain. Ellie could have cared less. “Stop acting like you’re fucking invincible, you dense cunt! You could have gotten both of us killed!”

“And I could have been bit,” Abby got near Ellie’s face, close enough for the redhead to smell her pine scented soap that she used. Ellie tried not to inhale, finding that she detested the smell now more than ever before. “But you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Guys, can we just calm down?” Dina stood up, stepping between both of them and Ellie scoffed. Abby could see blood dripping down her cheek and sliding into the collar of her black t-shirt, her adrenaline rushing and opening her wound back up. Her heart raced as she picked up the glass of whiskey and downed it in almost two seconds. Abby tried not to flinch at seeing the ugly bruises on her splinted fingers.

“I may fuckin’ hate you,” Ellie snapped. “But that doesn’t mean I wanna see you dead, Anderson.”

With that being said, Ellie left the bar and went straight home, leaving Abby to be her brooding self inside of the building. The entire walk home, Ellie wanted to tear her hair out. How can one human be so damn infuriating?! Ellie can’t remember the last time a person had pissed her off so badly. Her heart was racing, and she felt nauseous… or maybe that was just the whiskey in her system.

 In her haste to get inside of her home, she didn’t even acknowledge Joel on his back porch, Jerry sitting next to him on a chair and both of them bonding over the coffee they recently got through a trade. Joel tried to say hi, but she ignored him and slammed her door.

Ellie slammed her hand against the wall, and immediately groaned in pain at her broken fingers throbbing under the skin. Her blood was boiling and dripping from the wound on her cheek. Everything felt overwhelming and she had to calm down somehow. Her heart felt like it was trying to escape from her chest.

After a very short shower, she replaced the bandages on her cheek and changed into a different set of clothes not covered in her sweat. After getting her shit rocked today, Maria agreed to give her a few days off to recuperate from having her bones broken. Ellie could sleep in… And forget about bitches named Abby.

It was well into the night and Ellie had been tossing and turning through her entire dream. Turning onto her left side, she curled both hands into her chest and muttered something under her breath; something she would have slapped herself for saying if she was conscious… “Abby…”

The sensation of rough, calloused hands across her cheeks had Ellie’s eyes fluttering in an embarrassingly lovesick manner. The strong palms on her face slid up, a thumb swiping over her lower lip as Ellie reached up, her own rough-skinned hands sliding over massive biceps to rest on broad, freckled shoulders.

The blonde braid was unmistakable, and Ellie leaned ever closer to her, feeling the heat of her body against Ellie’s own and trembling in the blonde’s grasp. Oh, the scent of pine filled her nose, and she reveled in the pleasure that coursed through her entire being.

“We’ll take things slow, yeah?” That melodic, heavenly voice that stroked along her brain and sent shivers all over her nerves. Ellie sighed, almost like she couldn’t get enough of this, and leaned forward. Her hands went higher, one curling around the base of her braid and pulling her down a little more, but she stopped Ellie with a palm on her chest. Ellie’s heart quickened.

“Abby,” Ellie begged. Abby chuckled, and she leaned forward slowly… Her lips got so close, and Ellie swore she could feel the heat of Abby’s breath on her face. She was so close… so close that Ellie could practically taste her on her tongue—

Ellie let out a loud gasp and jolted upward from the bed. Her body glistened in the moonlight pouring from the window and she grabbed at her chest over her shirt with her good hand. Everything felt like it was buzzing and Ellie couldn’t calm her heart down.

“What the fuck did I just—” Ellie’s thoughts went to her dream, and lingered on Abby… Where she once saw annoyance, Ellie found herself BLUSHING! She remembers the way Abby once grabbed her hip to keep her from falling. She remembers that time Abby patched up her leg when she got hurt. She remembers the way Abby winked at her once a long time ago…

Ellie remembers the dream, and suddenly…. Abby was the one thing on her mind. She tried to think of anything else, but the sound of Abby’s breathing in her head refused to escape and she found herself wondering what she would look like in such an intimate moment…

A pure whine of pitiful defeat, and a little annoyance, tore through the air and Ellie simply covered her face with the pillow, screaming and wishing that she was now dead. What was once in her mind of Abby— all the hatred and disgust for her existence? Ellie couldn’t get the image of her hands caressing her face out of her mind.

If she closed her eyes again and brushed the spot where dream-Abby touched her cheekbone, her entire face would glow with a blush again and it felt borderline sickening.

“Fuck, fuck,” Ellie cursed, not knowing how else to react to this situation.

Ellie was content on hating Abby for a long time, maybe even until one of them inevitably got killed on patrol or by raiders or anything of the sort. But noooooo… that would be too easy for her brain to comprehend. So instead, Ellie would avoid her. And this time, she wouldn’t even look at Abby Anderson, afraid that if she looks at her for too long, she’ll wonder what she tastes like.

So, Ellie did what any normal person would do: she locked the door and pretended to die for a few days.

“Has anybody seen Ellie?”

The question had everybody stopping for a brief second in what they were doing. Dina shared a look with Tommy who simply just shrugged. No one has seen her in, apparently days? It had been three since her fight with Abby in the bar.

“She ain’t been comin’ out of her room,” Joel concluded, his features creased with slight worry at the idea of Ellie being hurt, or even sick. He knows that having 2 broken fingers wasn’t very fun, but she burned herself with chemicals in order to hide her bite mark. The girl was tough as nails, she could do anything with 2 broken fingers.

“I haven’t seen her either,” Dina frowned. It wasn’t like her best friend hiding away on her days off. She’s always doing something. “I can go check on her?”

“Good idea,” Jesse said, lifting a hay bale off the ground and tossing it towards the pile where the others were. “She’s gotta come back for patrol tomorrow.”

Dina stripped off her gloves, tucking them away in her back pocket before she left the stables. The walk to Ellie’s little garage home wasn’t exactly long, but it felt like forever under the Wyoming sun. Sweat dripped from her hairline as she approached Ellie’s front door, gently knocking on the wooden surface.

“Ellie? It’s Dina,” Dina announced, hoping that saying just her name would be enough for Ellie to let her in. But when she was met with silence, Dina began to tap her foot on the ground outside of the door. “I know you’re in there, Ellie. I can see you moving around in there.”

A curse echoed in the bedroom before Dina could hear Ellie actively tripping almost every single thing in her wake. And when she opened the door, Dina had to step back in order to fully take her in. What the hell happened to her?

“Ellie, are you—” Her nose wrinkled up a little as she smelt the unmistakable scent of weed and alcohol on her breath. “Fuck, have you just been in here getting shitfaced for three days?”

“What do you want, Dina?” Ellie deflected, like she always does when she’s got so much on her mind. Dina doesn’t know what upsets her more; that Ellie is getting high, or she’s getting high without her.

The redhead pushed her sweaty forehead against the doorway, almost like she was going to collapse if she stood there for another second than she needed to. So instead of talking outside, Dina pushed herself into Ellie’s home like it was her life’s purpose. Almost instantly, Ellie fell onto her ass, either too blazed or too plastered to fully take in what was happening.

“Dina, what the fuck—”

“What the hell is going on with you?” Dina crouched down, slapping her hands on Ellie’s cheeks and making her blush under her freckles. “And it isn’t the broken fingers because you broke your nose last month and still went on patrol the next day!”

“Wh- nothing! Nothing is wrong, I just—”

“I know you’re lying,” Dina snapped, still holding onto Ellie’s face. She looked like a bunny staring down a rifle barrel. “You wanna know why? Cause you suck at it!”

“Get off!” Ellie shoved Dina’s hands away, attempting to stand on her own but failing miserably. Her knees wobbled as she got off the ground before she fell right back onto the floor and for a few seconds, simply laid there with her face on the dirty rug near her sofa. “Just… Just go, Abby—”

Dina immediately froze in place, her brows knitting together for a brief second as it seemed like the whole world was coming back into focus. Before this moment, Dina was prepared to knock some sense into her best friend, but that moment passed quickly.

“This is about Abby,” Dina said, standing up and running a hand across her face. “Come on El, Abby is always gonna be a bitch, that’s just how she is!”

“S’not about that,” Ellie finally stood up off the ground, her shirt sticking against her sweaty skin as she rubbed her forehead, trying to stop the room from spinning. Her wobbly legs managed to carry her to the bed where a half-burned blunt was sitting inside of an ashtray. “Just go. I can’t deal with this right now…”

Dina watched as Ellie picked up the roach and inhaled very slowly, the end of the blunt glowing and illuminating her face. Dina could see the bruises under her eyes from a lack of sleep. Whatever was happening inside of Ellie’s head, Dina couldn’t figure it out… So she left.

As soon as Dina was gone, Ellie let out a harsh breath as she looked down at the sketches littering her bed. And if Dina had stayed, she would have understood. Abby’s face was all over the papers, her eyes staring back with that characteristic scowl she always held, and the slight pout to her bottom lip…

A curse escaped Ellie’s lips as she shoved all of the drawings on the floor and shoved a pillow back over her face. There was no reason that this affected her so badly, she’s had stupid crushes before—

“No, nope, absolutely fucking not, this is not happening,” Ellie scolded herself, gripping the fabric of the pillowcase like it was her lifeline from drowning. Lines were drawn on the invisible white board in her mind, and she felt like thoughts were knitted together.

Realization hit her like a bus. Ellie Williams has a crush on Abby frickin’ ANDERSON!

When Ellie emerged from her so-called hobbit hole, as Joel called it, she looked like death warmed up. Her face was pale and she looked like she was going to be sick at any given moment. Her trek to the stables felt like the longest walk of her life. She chugged a ton of water just to get through the day and Maria had been gracious enough to give her one extra day to sober up…

Wandering around the town was normally a good idea, so she decided to take a walk and try to clear her head. Everyone seemed to be out in full force today enjoying the warm weather while Ellie is starting to wish that she grabbed those sunglasses she saw on patrol last week. Her limbs felt impossibly heavy as she turned a corner towards the stables, going to see if Joel was back yet. But on her way, Ellie nearly fell over as she ran directly into someone.

“Hey! Watch where you’re–” Ellie looked up, ready to fight whoever wasn’t watching where they were going, and then she went completely silent. 

That blonde braid was unmistakable, not to mention the sling over her shoulder. Abby looked pissed, to say the least. Her brows were pulled together and her bottom lip was pouted out even more than usual. It was a look that Ellie has seen almost a thousand times… so why did it feel different now?

“Can you get out of your own world for five damn seconds and watch where you’re going?” Abby snapped, readjusting the sling on her shoulder and biting her lip to try and hide the wince of pain she felt. Normally, this would be the time that Ellie would fire back. She was waiting for her words that usually cut as deep as her switchblade. 

But when Abby looked back, she saw Ellie had gone red in the face. Abby figured she was coming up with some “clever” retort, and she decided to poke the bear again. “What’s wrong, Williams? Clicker got your tongue?”

If Abby had been looking closely, she would be able to see Ellie’s hands trembling slightly as she took a step back and immediately turned around and walked in the other direction. What the fuck, that didn’t make sense– Ellie never misses the opportunity to fight with Abby. What was going on?

“Williams,” Abby started following behind Ellie, who pretty much refused to acknowledge Abby’s presence. If Ellie was even more childish, Abby would assume she was being given the silent treatment, but she was more mature than that… by a miniscule fraction. Ellie was never afraid for someone to know just how much she hated them. Reminders of Ellie almost stabbing Seth in the bar will forever be a prime memory for Abby. 

She wasn’t stopping, and Abby didn’t know what to do. “Ellie,” A hand went on the redhead’s shoulder and she immediately went still. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine,” Ellie said way too fast to be convincing. Her heart was racing and as long as she didn’t look at Abby, the blonde couldn’t see the color rising to her cheeks. “Can you just…” 

Abby watched Ellie carefully grab Abby’s wrist with the hand that had two fingers in splints. Suddenly, Abby felt a surge of guilt in her stomach from the sight. It technically was Abby’s fault that Ellie had broken two of her fingers, but she was also responsible for her dislocated shoulder. 

Actually… No, it was all Abby’s fault. Had she been thinking, she wouldn’t have gotten attacked by that infected. She let her guard down, and in doing so, almost got both of them killed because of her dumb quarter collection. She’d never tell Ellie that’s why she went exploring; Ellie would only make fun of her for it, and she didn’t need the girl to have anymore reasons to pick on her.

“Are you-” Abby tried to step around to look at her face and try to see if the stitches on her cheek were okay, but before she could, Ellie turned her head to avoid eye contact. “What is wrong with you? Why are you–”

“I have somewhere I need to be,” Ellie immediately changed the subject, turning away as fast as possible and going towards the stable. This time, Abby didn’t chase her. The blonde just stood there, looking more confused than she’s ever been before in her life. 

The redhead, on the other hand, felt like her heart was going to burst from her chest and she immediately hid behind a house, covering her face with both hands and feeling like her skin was suddenly too tight for her own body. Her stomach twisted, and she wanted to bash her head into the brickwork of the house behind her. 

What the hell is her problem? She’s had crushes on people before, none of them have made her act like this! Even when it was Cat, she was cool about it… Well, as cool as she could be. And even with Dina, she didn’t go practically paralyzed with fear or pure discomfort that she may discover how Ellie feels. 

So why did she do this with Abby? Why couldn’t she play it cool and act like nothing was wrong? 

Because Ellie didn’t fucking want to like Abby. 

[middleearthpixie]

It is time!

Finally! Here is the fic I wrote for this amazing artwork done by @artgoalsandlovelythings! It was wonderful to work with them (and I learned a few things about blacksmithing in the process!) and I'm so glad I can finally share this!

Title: Two Hearts

Rating: M

Relationships: Boromir x ofc Sarina

Characters: Boromir, Sarina, Faramir, Ballard, a couple of accident-prone soldiers

Warnings/Triggers: Unprotected sex, slinking off into the night

Word Count: 17k

Summary: The last thing Boromir expected when he walked into Gondor’s smithy was to find a woman behind the counter and Sarina is unlike most of the women he knew. She is loud and opinionated and to his surprise, a fast friendship is born between them.

Like Boromir, Sarina is dealing with past trauma of her own, and while she is coming to think of Minas Tirith as home, she hesitates to look too far into the future. At the same time, she cannot imagine a time when she’d want to leave Minas Tirith, or Boromir.

But time passes and it seems there just might be more between them than simply friendship. It’s the last thing either one wants or needs, but it just might be the one thing neither one can live without…

Check out the story and the gorgeous artwork on AO3!!

[jan-holdres]

[elletromil]

The Way of the House Husband

For @honey-bee-britt

Some crack we talked about years ago set in the Come Back (Home)

The Way of the House Husband

Harry would like it noted that, for once, he didn’t start it.

He had been doing his best to completely ignore the men that had been following after him for the better part of the day.

He even sent a text to Merlin about them, trusting that Kingsman would deal with whatever that was about in the next few days. It’s not anyone’s fault that the henchmen had proven themselves to be complete amateurs by deciding to act a mere hours after starting to stalk him.

Of course, Harry knows that he looks rather unassuming now, out of his suit, with his beard and his eye-patch. But had their roles been reversed, he would have waited at least a few days to properly establish his mark’s routine before attempting anything.

And if he walked into a deserted alley that isn’t part of his usual itinerary, it is simply because the men following him had already been closing in on him and he hadn’t want to accidentally involve any innocent bystanders in whatever was going to happen.

He had not been goading them into action. Not at all.

One of the men suddenly grabs him by the elbow to stop him and Harry sighs inwardly as he dubs that man ‘Amateur #1’. If he had had an ounce of intelligence, he would have waited for the rest of his group to properly block all of his target possible escape route before making his move. The alley Harry lured them into isn’t quite so narrow that at least one of them couldn’t have made it in front of him

But no, the five of them are all still behind him. A good push on Amateur #1 and a short run towards the nearest busy street would be all Harry needs to escape them.

If he had felt like he was in any actual danger at all.

So instead, he turns around to face the men, easily slipping out of the grip on his arm in a way that feels entirely coincidental, offering his most polite smile. “May I help you gentlemen?”

It’s Amateur #2 who answers, which might mean he’s a a leader of some sort for this group of thugs, but since he seems as much of an idiot as the others, Harry doesn’t bother relabelling him as such in his mind.

“You’d better follow us quietly gramps.”

A couple of them smile in a manner that is probably meant to be menacing, but Harry has seen fiercer expression from Daisy the last time they played pirates. He does take offence at the ‘gramps’ however.

He knows his hair is more grey than brown now, but surely he doesn’t look that old, does he?

He’ll have to ask Merlin next time he sees him. Or maybe Roxy. Eggsy, no matter how much he loves him, cannot be trusted on this.

“And why should I?”

He’s still going for hapless innocence, but judging from the worried look Amateur #5 throws over his shoulder, the mask is probably starting to slip. Or maybe that man has better survival instincts than the others and can subconsciously feel that they ’re the ones currently facing a predator.

“Let’s just say it would be better for your health. It’s your boy toy we want.”

He can feel his eye twitch lightly at what the man just insinuated about Eggsy. It wouldn’t be the first time people make an assumption about them after seeing them together, but that doesn’t mean Harry’s blood will ever stop boiling over such comments.

“Yeah gramps,” Amateur #3 continues, without noticing how Harry’s smile has hardened into something that is definitely less polite, “just don’t make a fuss. We don’t want to hurt you.”

“Oh well, that’s a relief. Unfortunately for you, I have no such reluctance.”

His smile is all teeth now and before any of the men can process what he just said, he swings the grocery bag in his left hand at Amateur #1’s face.

~

The fight is over quickly, leaving five unconscious men laying on the ground and Harry barely out of breath.

Either he’s kept in a better shape than he expected since retiring or whoever hired those men truly scrape them from the bottom of the barrel.

What a waste of his time.

He sends a new text to update Merlin on the situation and ignores his friend’s attempt at calling him. He’s already too late to start on the lasagna he had planned for dinner tonight and if wants a chance to finish plan B before Eggsy’s return, he can’t allow himself any further delays.

***

Whatever Harry is cooking tonight, it smells delicious, not that there’s any surprised there.

Eggsy deftly avoids stepping on the dogs trying to jump on his legs as he beelines to where Harry is standing at the oven in his apron, pressing his face between his shoulders and wrapping his arms around his waist. Harry, as always perfectly aware of his surroundings, relaxes into the embrace for a moment before his attention is taken back to the pans in front of him.

After the day he’s had, Eggsy doesn’t mind and just lets himself follow whatever movement Harry is making, basking in the silent domesticity of it all.

When he finally steps back after a quick kiss under Harry’s jaw, he notices the bags full of grocery sitting on the counter.

“Busy day on your end too luv?” He asks as he starts putting away the items.

“Hmm. No, not really. About the same as usual, I’d say. Tell me about yours instead.”

Eggsy knows a deflection when he hears one and usually he wouldn’t insist. Whatever it is Harry doesn’t want to say, either he’ll resolve it on his own or he’ll come to Eggsy when he’s ready to talk about it.

But then he gets to the cans and, considering how Harry has been doing most of the shopping since his return to London because he has much higher standards over quality than Eggsy does, seeing the state they’re in is kind of worrying.

“Harry? Why are these cans so dented?”

Most people wouldn’t notice the way Harry grows slightly tense at the question, but Eggsy isn’t a Kingsman spy for nothing.

“Let’s just say I had a little incident today.”

Unimpressed, Eggsy raises an eyebrow in Harry’s direction, even if the other man is still keeping his back to him. Given the fact it’s a habit he’s picked up from Merlin whenever the handler is reacting to Harry’s bullshit, there is no way Harry doesn’t know what expression he’s making right now.

“Does that ‘little incident’ have anything to do with Merlin asking me to tell you to stop ignoring his calls and also that you owe him a whole batch of baklava?”

He hadn’t worried when Merlin contacted him via his glasses when he was making his way home, mostly because the handler had only sounded exasperated, but maybe he should have. With their decades of spy work, even taking Harry’s few years of retirement into consideration, sometimes the two men have a rather skewed judgment.

“Probably.”

Harry has the decency to turn away from the stove at that point and offer him a sheepish smile.

They look at each other for a moment, until Eggsy decides that if Harry isn’t telling, then he doesn’t really need to know. If Merlin hasn’t gone into the details with him earlier, the issue has probably been dealt with already. And as long as Harry isn’t hurt, which he doesn’t seem to be, Eggsy is finding it hard to muster the energy to care.

Until he gets to the last bag, that is.

“The fuck you did to those carrots Harry?”

[charleslee-valentine]

car selfies- feat. Chucky and Tiff as their doll versions

[skyessky]

New Warrior Nun fic from me! This time exploring an AU where Ava joined the OCS four years earlier than in canon because:

Wouldn't it be nice if Ava actually grew up with the girls in the OCS?

Wouldn't it be cool for Ava to witness Beatrice coining the Cruella de Jesus nickname?

Wouldn't it be nice if Shannon doesn't die, if Mary doesn't die, if NOBODY DIES AND EVERYBODY LIVES?? *

Basically a season 1 rewrite.

*By everybody I mean the girls in the OCS whom we care about. This is still an AU within the Warrior Nun universe so, ya know, canon-typical violence, demons, and all.

Check it out here!

[rouxthewriter]

Zoom zoom zoom, I (don't) want you in my room (please get out). - W. Maximoff

Pairing: Teen!Wanda x Teen!Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1090

Warnings: Absolute fluff

Wanda is the best girlfriend ever, except when you're in a zoom-class with all your classmates and an uptight teacher.

----------------------------------------------------------. Wanda distracts y/n during online-class and thing escalate.

[asoiafzambi]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, House of the Dragon (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Aemond "One-Eye" Targaryen/Daemon Targaryen, Daemon Targaryen/Rhaenyra Targaryen, Rhaenyra Targaryen/Laenor Velaryon, Alicent Hightower/Viserys I Targaryen, Baela Targaryen/Jacaerys Velaryon Characters: Daemon Targaryen, Aemond "One-Eye" Targaryen, Viserys I Targaryen, Daeron Targaryen (Son of Viserys I), Rhaenyra Targaryen, Laenor Velaryon, Alicent Hightower, Otto Hightower, Criston Cole, Helaena Targaryen, Jacaerys Velaryon, Lucerys Velaryon (Son of Rhaenyra), Joffrey Velaryon Additional Tags: Mpreg, canon typical underage marriage, Targcest | Targaryen Incest (A Song of Ice and Fire), Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, tolerated infidelity, Work In Progress, Domestic Fluff, Cute Kids, Light Angst, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies

Summary:

Premise/AU Diverging Point: Driftmark incident goes a bit different. Aemond takes Luke's eye. Rhaenyra flips her shit, Viserys grows some balls, no civil war occurs.

A/N: Yes, another WIP (I’m sorry)

This is all vysehrn's (tumblr) fault. This Muna Aemond art is so cute. I think it's a commission for a trans Aemond AU, but I have to put my own spin on the idea.

Though my Aemond here is actually an Aemond "Two-Eye" Targaryen. 👀   (And yes, his punishment for taking Luke's eye was having to wed uncle Daemon. How mean.)

Omegaverse usually makes me uncomfortable, so we go with the old - IT'S MAGIC- 'explanation' of some males being able to get pregnant and give birth. Would likely be considered a third gender but whatever.

This is very WIP, like an excerpt from the middle of the story so far, but self contained. I can't write stuff chronologically for the life of me. The beginning will be a rewrite of the show's infamous Driftmark dagger scene. This has about 1700 words. I would guess the end product (sceduled for 2036) will have around 10 000 words.

[fabulous-fic-quotes]

“Moony and Pads are out for a walk,” Potter says, waggling his eyebrows.

“A walk?” Regulus questions.

“A walk.” Potter confirms, words heavy with implication.

Regulus sighs. “You mean to say, they’ve gone to smoke Gillyweed and fornicate in the woods again, don’t you?”

The Missing Link - @lostmykeysie

[askthekraliekrew]

couldn't help but notice that infinity symbol on jays hat... autism? :>

___ Jay : Sorry... It's been a while since I've been in front of a camera like this.

Alex : [Meet Jay, Tumblr! You can ask him things too... Brian probably wouldn't mind either. I don't know about Tim, but I can try and get him to talk to you guys if you want that, or whatever.]

[levieske]

(𝟔) 𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐦𝐞

In which Yuji Itadori accidentally spoils Hana Akiwara’s plans by ingesting Sukuna’s finger, and Satoru Gojo is constantly humbled as a result.

satoru gojo x ofc x suguru geto

[ canon divergence, fix-it au, everybody lives, no kenjaku, no shibuya incident, jjk s1, slow-burn, aged-up characters, age gap, questionable relationships, mentor-student relationships, unresolved sexual tension, more mature and graphic in future chapters, crack heavy for now, tvd references if you squint ]

previous - ao3 link - masterlist - next

On the following Saturday, they saw each other again.

“Hey.”

The soft timbre of his voice cut through the crisp morning air, startling Hana. She turned, her gray eyes locking with his brown ones. She had arrived earlier than him, Suguru noticed.

Their positions had reversed, this time Hana had claimed the bench. She sat with her legs crossed in order to maintain as much warmth as she could, her legs twitching under her wide jeans. Her hands were inside the pockets of her black coat and her enormous white scarf engulfed her neck. Her freezing figure was hard to miss for Suguru. His eyes easily landed on her, the signature cursed energy of her talisman working as a beacon, as he walked past families strolling through the park and children playing in the freshly fallen snow.

Now that the man was within her field of view, Hana inspected him with curiosity. Dressed in a coffee-colored coat, a black turtleneck and black dress pants, he smiled at her. His long, black locks waved with a gust of wind. Hana shrank from the cold, getting up from her seat at the bench. 

“Hey.” She finally greeted back, guiding him through the park’s paths as their walk began. “No monk robes today?”

Hana had half-expected the man would wear his eccentric costume, but she didn’t dislike the alternative either. Both styles suited him, to be honest.

“Thought I’d dress for the occasion.” Suguru quipped, a playful edge to his voice.

“Okay, stop right there, monk man.” Hana halted with an interjection, outstretching an arm in his direction as she put herself in front of him. “Don’t get it twisted, this” Hana gestured between them, “isn’t a date, this is only a business meeting.”

Suguru’s chuckle was low, clearly enjoying the teasing. “One in which I’m buying you lunch?”

“And in which you’re paying me for information. Just business.” The girl affirmed, lifting both her thin eyebrows at him. Suguru stared back at her with an amused expression. They resumed walking, as a devious smile crept down her face. “Didn’t think you were into escorts, Suguru. I’m sorry to inform you that my services don’t extend to that.”

Hana feigned an apologetic grimace as she lifted her face to the older man. A hint of color rose to his cheeks over her bluntness, a rare show of vulnerability that she noted with satisfaction. “I don’t need to pay women to get dates, Akiwara.” He bit back after regaining his composure, and shot her a smile.

“You were the one who said this was a date.” Hana shrugged. She was enjoying annoying this man, and he seemed not to completely detest their banter. It could be worse, Hana guessed. “And, please just call me Hana. I’m not used to people calling me by my family name. It feels weird.”

“A foreigner, eh?” Suguru inquired, looking at her briefly.

“I thought you had already noticed my slight accent. American family, Japanese roots.” Akiwara explained with a nod. “But, this isn’t why we’re here, so shoot.” She stared at him sideways. “What do you want to know?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Geto retorted, his gaze intense as it met hers. “Why are you hiding your gift?”

She sighed. “It’s a long story I’d rather tell you about with a delicious, hot bowl of ramen in front of me.”

“You already have a place in mind.” Geto pondered, his eyebrows arching slightly.

“Yep.” She confirmed with a nod. “But, what I meant was what do you want to get out of this meeting overall? The more information, the higher my price gets.”

“I just want to know more about you.” Suguru responded, shaking his head at her attitude. “You really want the money.”

“You’re the first curse user I’m attempting to bleed dry; I need to know how much I can bargain.” Hana retorted with a smile that just made the other curse user shake his head. “Besides, you haven’t asked for your money back even though I’ve essentially scammed you.”

“The cursed object is useless in the grand scheme of things. You, on the other hand, have piqued my interest, Hana.” Suguru admitted, her name rolling off his tongue softly, unfamiliarly. The woman couldn’t say she hated the sound. “I see it as an investment. Why do you want the money?”

“Oh, it’s for college.” She revealed nonchalantly.

Suguru Geto was growing more and more curious about her as she spoke. Why was a talented curse user wasting her potential in mundane stuff? Hana anticipated his thoughts, rolling her eyes in amusement. It seemed most curse users struggled to balance their ordinary lives with their jujutsu. No wonder almost all of them seemed a bit unhinged. Or at least the ones Hana and Kenji had contacted through the underground market did.

They settled in silence until they arrived at the cozy restaurant Hana had an eye on for some time. She could have brought them somewhere more expensive, and lucrate from Suguru’s money, but she was somewhat of a picky eater and she wanted to at least enjoy her meal if she wouldn’t be enjoying his company.

Not that she wasn’t having a great time annoying Suguru. It was surprising that he hadn’t lost his temper at her yet. Most curse users became somewhat irritable after realizing they were scammed by Kenji and Hana.

Meeting this stranger was probably reckless on Hana’s part, but she was confident in her abilities, and Suguru didn’t seem intent on harming her. It didn’t look like he was planning on killing her, which was a good sign. He hadn’t even defended himself the other day and was offering more money than any of her other gullible clients had. She would likely face some scolding from Kenji when he’d find out, that was -of course- if she made it out alive. It didn’t look like Suguru was planning on killing her, which was a good sign. Even though she knew her brother didn’t approve of her methods, the money she was bringing home would make him less angry.

Upon arriving at the restaurant, Hana and Suguru were escorted to a table. Hana shrugged off her coat, revealing her oversized cream sweater. As she moved, the sweater slipped off one shoulder, exposing her collarbone. Her silver necklace -the talisman- glinted against her skin. Hana noticed Suguru’s eyes roaming over her body, curiosity evident in his gaze, but he remained silent. He also removed his coat, folding it neatly and putting it over his chair. The black turtleneck he wore clung to his form, accentuating his muscular physique. Hana found herself momentarily captivated by him before shaking herself out of it. She sat down unceremoniously when he turned around, and Suguru also took a seat.

It wasn’t exactly the time to be ogling, no matter how attractive the man was. This was a business meeting and, as the saying goes, you shouldn’t mix business with pleasure.

The menu was handed to both curse users, and they quietly scanned the menu. Hana already had a specific ramen in mind, but her eyes darted over the array of dishes anyway before they placed their orders. It was Suguru who finally shattered the silence that had formed between them.

“Why are you hiding your gift?” Geto inquired, repeating his question from earlier, his gaze locked onto Hana’s necklace as she subconsciously fiddled with it. “Why are you holding back?”

“I thought I said I wanted a bowl of ramen in front of me before I started.” Akiwara teased playfully and the man playfully rolled his brown, sharp eyes at her. “Alright, alright. It’s a safety measure. I could suck all your cursed energy by mistake, killing you.”

Geto tilted his head. She seemed to have confirmed a hunch he had. “So, you don't have full control over your technique?”

“More or less.” Hana admitted just as the waiter arrived with their food, the delicious smell filling the air. “I’ve been using jujutsu only for a few months.” This intrigued Suguru, his eyes narrowing slightly. “And I’m not used to sensing this much cursed energy. My technique can be overwhelming, and it could potentially expose me. You have seen it for yourself.”

As they began to eat, Suguru leaned back for a moment, his expression thoughtful. “What really makes you stand out to sorcerers is the talisman.” Hana tensed, her previously calm demeanor evaporating with his words. The man quickly took notice of that. “I’m a curse user like you, you don’t have to worry about that. I cut ties with sorcerers years ago.”

Realization dawned on Hana, her posture relaxing slightly. “If you’ve worked with them, then you already understand why I don’t exactly want to attract attention to myself.”

Suguru nodded, his brown eyes never leaving her gray ones. “Your clan is thought to be extinct, they were involved in some questionable stuff in the past and they have been persecuted since.” He said softly. “I’m just surprised they didn’t find you before I did. Why come to Japan of all places?”

Hana’s smile was a bittersweet thing, setting a few more lines in Suguru’s frown. “I’m just tired of having to fit in with non-sorcerers because sorcerers fear us. I’m tired of having to bend myself for their morals. I don’t want to do jujutsu for their sake, or from the goodness of my heart.” She sighed, her head drooping slightly. Unbeknownst to her, Suguru’s expression softened with understanding. “I want a world where my technique isn't persecuted and my family can stop living in fear.”

They continued to eat in silence before Suguru responded. “You’ve been robbed of the experience of jujutsu. I can relate to that to an extent.”

Hana hummed. Her client wore a determined face, which made her wonder what were the horrors he had seen. The world of jujutsu was itself cruel, and not only for the grim past that surrounded her family.

“I didn’t come to Japan to commit mass murder, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Hana joked and flashed Suguru a genuine, infectious smile. “It would be lovely to get rid of those assholes, but then more assholes would spawn. So, I think I’ll settle for proving them wrong and showing them that powerful jujutsu can be born into my family despite all the killing they did to please their morals.” Hana gesticulated with a scowl. “I don’t really know how we’ll get to that, but it’s an on-going plan.”

Suguru’s soft laugh echoed her statement. “So, you’ve come here to get stronger right under their noses as a big fuck you.” Suguru’s eyes sparkled with understanding and respect, Hana saw. “It’s impressive.”

Hana chuckled before taking a sip from her water. Looking down at her bowl, she had finished her whole meal. She was a quick eater, alright? “Did I satisfy your curiosity?”

Suguru seemed lost in thought before he answered her, his gaze scrutinizing her features. “I think you just made me hungry for more.” Hana playfully rolled her eyes. He reached into his coat pocket and handed an envelope to Hana. “Hope this helps your college fund.”

“Will do, thank you very much.”Hana replied, pocketing the money and standing up to grab her coat.

“We can hold the next meeting at my compound.” Suguru suggested, watching her movements.

“Oh, no, no, no.” Hana shook her head, her short hair following her. She put on her coat and wrapped her scarf around her neck. “No more meetings. If you ever need someone to locate a cursed object, contact me.” Suguru was visibly taken aback by her blunt rejection, his eyes widening slightly as he stared at her. Yet, there was no anger in his gaze. “I promise I won’t pull any tricks next time, for a higher price, of course.”

The curse user just stared at her. It may have been the first time Suguru’s charm had failed to recruit someone, but he would never confess that aloud. Hana Akiwara, his fraudulent seller, was simply different. She was driven by a similar passion to his and seemed to take a perverse pleasure in draining his wallet, but that wasn’t enough for her to surrender. There was something else that kept her from making that decision, and Suguru was itching for answers. But, as much as he would love to just get her to join his cult- his family, the older curse user wanted to see how things would play out.

He had a feeling they would cross paths again soon, and it wouldn’t be because of him.

Lost in his thoughts, Hana exited the establishment completely unscathed.

It had been a fascinating encounter, she gave him that. This was the second curse user she had met in person, and he had left a great impression, regardless of what she first thought his character would be. His whole cult-leader persona was captivating and it wasn’t like Kenji and her had that many allies, but Hana had no interest in making deep bonds with what both Akiwara twins strictly saw as cash cows.

Most curse users were a little bit sick in the head, and she didn’t want word to spread around about them. This would be her first and only meeting with a client, she was sure of that. She repeated that mentally a few times, she couldn’t stop thinking about how they seemed to have found an unexpected common ground. As genuine as he seemed, he was still a stranger and whatever connection they may have might as well be as fake as his smile had been the other day. Plus, neither her grandmother nor her brother would be pleased about any of these meetings. Her grandmother’s health had been on a steady decline lately, and she had just been admitted to the hospital. Hana didn’t want to add to her worries in her final days. Hana and Kenji would be visiting her on Christmas, and she hoped the stranger wouldn’t bother them in the near future.

In the present, a year and a half later, Hana returned the necklace to its original place, nestled on the frame of the photo she had with Mineko. She sighed at the memories of the person who would eventually give her the confidence to stop using her grandmother’s old necklace: Suguru Geto.

˖ ⁺ ‧ ₊ ˚  ♡  ˚ ₊ ‧ ⁺ ˖

It had been just a couple of days after their last encounter with Satoru, when the siblings decided to reach out to him. As much as they were enjoying their tranquility and their quality time free of sorcerers, the Akiwaras needed to make their requests known. Hana had obtained his number all thanks to Yuji. Now the older sorcerer had the ability to bother her anytime, but it was a price she was willing to pay in order to bargain their “alliance” before the man decided not to be so benevolent with them.

In their three-hour-long text message discussion, Gojo and the Akiwaras had agreed the twins would officially become sorcerers under four simple clauses:

One - The siblings' enrollment in Jujutsu Tech would be postponed until further notice.

It wasn’t confirmed exactly when they would have to join the school. Gojo had only said they would be enrolled for the Sister-School Goodwill Event, which was when he will inform everybody about Yuji’s resurrection and all. He didn’t specify a concrete date, but Hana suspected it would be around the end of summer. Still, the twins clung to the remnants of their normalcy. They went to work, attended their classes and completed their mundane routines they had before, choosing to ignore for the time being that they had already lost all of it.

Two - There would be no more threats of execution or any kind towards them and their clan.

Kenji had annoyed Satoru to no end with this request, despite his countless assurances that they would be fine because he was the strongest and such kind of bullshit. Regardless of the importance of his name, Hana recalled it didn’t stop the high-ups from setting a trap for Yuji. It was then when Gojo had to surrender and accept the fact that they could flee if things got ugly, not needing a trial or other sorcerer bureaucracy, only if they didn’t commit mass murder or something. Kenji then pointed out that the higher-ups could just incriminate them with false evidence, and Satoru and him spent a good half an hour debating.

Hana remembered with a chuckle how her brother had driven the man to mental exhaustion. In the end, Gojo couldn’t promise them that the elders wouldn’t be a problem, but did promise them to have their backs. He’d make sure the elders would have to just suck it up if they weren’t happy with their clan and their presence. Hana was actually pleased with his unhingedness for once, as it played in their favor.

Three - Gojo would pay for their expenses.

Now that the twins were sure Satoru’s mind was more than a bit stunted from Kenji’s insistence, they got to the money issue. They were going to ditch their respective jobs to join the school, so the least Gojo could do was cover their rent and groceries. The sorcerer had actually found their thought process amusing, but he agreed without any resistance. He smugly told them he was loaded, which earned some mocking and rolled eyes from the twins on the other side of the phone. Satoru also informed them that the school paid students for their assignments, but the twins still wanted to mooch off of him. They didn’t feel guilty when it was him who proudly announced his wealthy status.

Gojo had a feeling that the twins had no qualms about taking advantage of others in business matters. It made him wonder how they actually managed to afford both tuition and an apartment in Kichijoji with minimum wage jobs. Satoru knew the siblings were playing some kind of scheme to manipulate him into agreeing to their demands by being incredibly insufferable. They had mastered the art of bending things to their will, he had to admit.

Regardless, Satoru would have probably agreed to their requests anyway, although he enjoyed seeing how they operated. Even if that meant that Hana and Kenji would drain him financially.

Four - The siblings would have to report to him.

After all, they were Gojo’s responsibility and he was supposed to supervise them. The sorcerer established this after the twins were satisfied with their demands. Hana and Kenji had talked about everything but this, knowing they would have to give up their freedom in some kind of way. Even though Satoru had assured them he wouldn’t be too invasive, Hana had a feeling their opinions on the matter would differ. He promised them they could have their privacy, stay at their apartment or fly back home if they wanted, but they needed to be in contact with him. He just wanted to be informed.

Hana suspected he would have them monitored in some way, like a helicopter parent of sorts, but agreed nonetheless to his only clause. Kenji had done the same after complaining for a bit, completing their ‘contract’.

Hana would have her suspicions proven correct a little bit over a week later in Ginza, where Kenji and her were at the moment. The older curse user stared at the map on her phone and guided her brother though the busy streets, finally approaching an unfamiliar building in a residential area. Inspecting the streets, Hana didn’t see a recognizable mop of white hair sticked up in a toilet brush fashion.

“Where the hell is Satoru?” She muttered, almost grumbling as her brother joined in the search for the sorcerer.

They had been spending their time without any jujutsu related incidents during the past week, until she received a message from Satoru the previous day. He had been brief, only sending her the location, date and hour. He didn’t even answer her questions or offer any kind of reply. It had been radio silence since then and the siblings still complied. They had embarked on a 40-minute train journey and a 10-minute walk to what could probably mean their death.

Trust? Yeah, Hana wasn’t there yet.

The girl expected some kind of communication back if the sorcerer wanted them to keep in contact with him. They didn’t even know what they were getting into, yet they believed Satoru was going to ask them to do something for him. Keeping that in mind, Hana had chosen to braid her hair as usual to keep it out of her way, and wore workout clothes: a black open hoodie, a tight crop top, some wide gray joggers and a pair of comfortable sneakers. Kenji had picked an outfit in a similar fashion, his colorscheme varying in different greens. They probably just looked like thieves to the residents of Ginza, noticing how the women grabbed their purses or how the men looked at them with suspicion when they walked past them, but the twins ignored them. 

Just when Kenji was about to complain, Satoru emerged from a car in front of them with Yuji. It was the same car he had driven her last time, Hana noticed. Something sporty and white, it looked like a new model. She stopped eyeing the vehicle with interest to stare at the late man, lifting her thin eyebrows.

“Hey.” Hana greeted the newcomers as they approached. Kenji, who was leaning on the building, simply nodded and straightened himself.

Yuji waved his hand at them, giving Hana a tiny smile she reciprocated. “Sorry for being late.”

“Glad you could make it.” Satoru flashed them a grin, staring back at her through his blindfold. Hana wondered how he hadn’t been stopped yet by the police for driving with that on. “Were you waiting for long?”

“You called, we came.” Han rolled her eyes. “What do you want?”

“You’ll see. Now follow me.”

He made a gesture with his hand and his three students accompanied him inside the apartment complex. They entered the polished lobby and made their way to the elevator. The four of them filled the tiny space when its door opened. The silence inside the minuscule metal box was heavy, filled with palpable tension between them. The doors closed and Hana found herself inadvertently locking gazes with Satoru. Or at least, she assumed she did, given the blindfold. The man was literally in front of her and his large figure loomed over her, it wasn’t intentional on any side. Hana lowered her gaze, as she waited for the elevator to ascend.

But it didn’t.

Gojo raised his eyebrows under his blindfold. “I forgot to press the button. Whoops.” He turned around, hitting both Akiwaras somehow on his way. Hana’s body collided with the walls of the elevator and Kenji hit Yuji as the older sorcerer moved. It happened again when he turned back to Hana after choosing the floor, deepening her frown. “Now we’re ready.”

This idiot.

The elevator did ascend this time, both Hana and Kenji not too pleased having to spend more time than necessary with Satoru in close quarters. Once they reached the selected floor, the four of them stepped out into a hallway. Their poor excuse of a mentor led them to a door at the end, knocking in a rhythmic pattern.

The door swung open, revealing a tall blond man with sharp features and tiny glasses. He was a sorcerer, one who wore a business suit for some reason. The suit consisted of a blue dress shirt underneath a tan blazer, with matching slacks and a dotted tie. A little bit tacky for Hana’s liking, but she still felt underdressed in her sweatpants. If it weren’t for the amount of cursed energy he emanated, both curse users would have mistaken him for a civilian.

His expression was unreadable as he examined his guests.

“Nanami!” Gojo shattered the silence when he greeted the aforementioned. The blindfolded sorcerer flashed a big smile that the man didn’t return. In fact, his voice only seemed to age Nanami further. Was that the effect Gojo had in the long-term, wrinkles and a resting bitch face? “Thanks for letting us use your place.”

The man stepped aside with a nod, which worked both as a welcome as a resignation. “It’s not a problem.” He said, though his tone suggested it was a minor inconvenience.

Satoru’s smile widened and he ushered the twins and Yuji inside. “As you may have suspected, this is going to be your first mission as sorcerers.” The man announced with a slightly off-putting cheery tone. Hana and Kenji shared a look, as their new mentor continued. “I won’t be able to lead you this time, but don’t worry! I have a friend you can trust.” Gojo put his arm around Nanami’s shoulders, who noticeably stiffened. “This is Nanami Kento, the ex-salaryman jujutsu sorcerer!”

Both Hana and Kenji grimaced at the man’s expression; his frown only deepening. “Please don’t call me that.” Nanami interjected, his annoyance thinly veiled beneath his composed exterior.

Still, Gojo kept talking as if he hadn’t said anything. “Plenty of jujutsu sorcerers are oddballs,” he stated, prompting an eye roll from the older Akiwara, “but since he worked for a company, he’s got a good head on his shoulders. He’s a first-grade sorcerer and my underclassman, too.”

“I’m sure no one would want to hear you saying that about them.” The trio noticed Kento was slowly but surely losing his patience with the blindfolded sorcerer. It made Hana wonder how many years of pure discipline had taken him not to snap at Satoru every time he opened his damn mouth.

“Ex-salaryman? Why didn’t you become a jujutsu sorcerer from the start?” Yuji inquired, with a confused gaze directed at the blond man.

Hana shrugged before replying. “Clearly, not everyone wants to be in that school, Yuji.”

“We are not even here willingly.” Kenji added, making Yuji deflate with a hum. “And what even is a first-grade sorcerer? Isn’t he a bit old to be still studying?”

Hana nodded, but before she could add anything, Kento cut their banter. “We should greet each other first.” The man bowed. “Nice to meet you, Itadori and Akiwaras.”

“Oh, yes, nice to meet you, too.” Itadori responded, also bowing, and Hana and Kenji mimicked his actions.

Hana straightened her back, her gaze fixed on Nanami. “Please, use our first names.”

“It’s going to get confusing if you don’t.” Kenji explained, nodding in agreement to his sister.

The three sorcerers observed the twins, slightly unnerved by their synchronized speech. Even their mannerisms were alike.

“Alright, Hana and Kenji.” Nanami conceded, understandingly. “Please, take a seat before we continue.”

The trio nodded in awkwardness, as the five of them still stood by the entrance of his flat. They walked further into his home, settling into the comfort of the couch. Gojo, already familiarized with the environment or simply lacking manners, claimed a dining chair for himself and placed it near the coffee table. Nanami made no comment about it, choosing instead to seat himself in the armchair. The interior of his flat was warm and cozy. It made Hana feel like they were intruding on some kind of sacred place and, judging with the amount of lines in Nanami’s frown, they probably were.

Did Gojo ask him to use his place or did he just appear with the three students on his door?

Nanami resumed the conversation, his gaze intensifying. “I studied at Jujutsu Tech, and one thing I learned is that jujutsu sorcerers are shit!”

“Huh?” Yuji was perplexed, but both Hana and Kenji shared a laugh, not really expecting the man to voice that. Hana had a feeling they would be getting along.

“Then I worked at your typical company, and one thing I learned,” he continued, his eyes narrowing with conviction, “is that work is shit!”

Itadori couldn’t contain his surprise. “Really?!”

Nanami nodded. “If both are equally shit, I’ll take the one I’m more suited to.” He didn’t really leave room for discussion, explaining himself nonchalantly. “That’s the only reason I came back.”

“That’s dark.” Yuji mumbled, still taken aback. 

Satoru nodded, inclining towards him. “Right?”

“Itadori, please don’t believe I’m of the same mindset as Gojo.” Nanami clarified, his gaze fixed on the younger sorcerer. “I do trust and have faith in him.” Satoru looked at Hana with pride, smiling widely. Okay, maybe she wouldn’t be getting along that well with Kento… “But I do not respect him!”

Gojo’s expression shifted to one of surprise, pouting. “Huh?!”

Hana couldn’t contain her laugh behind her hand, and Kenji didn’t even try to hide it. Scratch that, they would definitely be getting along. Hana was actually pleased with a sorcerer for a change.

“I hate the way the higher-ups do things, but I believe in rules and regulations.” Kento continued with a sigh. “This conversation is dragging on.” He disliked Satoru and liked getting to the point? “In short, I don’t recognize any of you as sorcerers, yet. Even if you, Itadori, do carry the bomb we know as Sukuna, please make an effort to prove that you are useful.”

“Lately, I’ve been forced to realize how weak and useless I am. But I’ll become strong. I have to be strong, or I won’t be able to choose how I die.” Yuji’s voice was full of determination as he locked his brown eyes on Kento’s hazel ones. “I’ll make you recognize me, even without that advice. Just give me a bit more time.”

The man just offered a dismissive shrug. “Say that to the higher-ups, not me.”

“Oh, right…” Itadori mused, his cheeks tingling with embarrassment.

“Frankly, I don’t care!” Namai exclaimed bluntly, eliciting chuckles from the twins at his sudden outburst.

Yuji grimaced. “Okay, I get it!”

By that point, Hana and Kenji had barely spoken any word, instead enjoying their new chaperone’s critique about his kind. It was honestly refreshing. In the end, the twins had just discovered what Gojo regarded as monitoring: Kento Nanami, a hot salaryman by day and jujutsu sorcerer by night or something. A quiet and polite man, something both curse users appreciated in comparison to Satoru's petulant nature.

It seemed that the man and the twins were a bit alike. They both returned to jujutsu after trying to abandon that side of them. Well, the twins’ situation had really nothing to do with him, but Hana just enjoyed his presence. She was able to respect him already, and he seemed more reliable than Gojo anyways. What puzzled her was the fact that Nanami was supposed to be younger than Gojo and they both were still attending school…

Eventually, Hana snapped out of her thoughts and voiced her question, interrupting whatever the older sorcerers were bickering about. “You mentioned he was your underclassman, just how old are you, Satoru?”

Nanami’s eyebrow arched at the use of his colleague’s first name.

“Isn’t Nanami a bit older?” Kenji chimed in, his thoughts having gone the same route as his sister’s.

“He’s actually younger than me.” Satoru deadpanned, staring at the twins through his blindfold. “I’m 26 and he's 25.”

“It may appear so because you lack manners and act like a child.” Kento remarked. A hint of a smile played at the corners of his mouth, the Akiwaras noticed.

“That was actually pretty accurate.” Hana didn’t even try to hide her laugh this time, smiling at the man’s jab. “Why didn’t I meet you first?”

“I’m not that bad!” Satoru whined and protested, pouting at her.

Kento ignored both of them, sighing. “We’re getting off topic. We are set to investigate a murder at a cinema.”

“Wait, hold on!” Kenji interrupted the older man, frowning. “You’re 25 and still studying? Just how long do we have to keep training?”

“We’re not-” Kento stopped himself and sighed, rubbing his temples. Maybe he wasn’t enjoying their company as much as they were enjoying his. Whoops. “We have already graduated, it’s like college, four years.” His clarification made Kenji exhale, his fears dissipating. Hana also relaxed by his side. “Grades are how we rank the strength of jujutsu sorcerers and curses. Has he not explained anything?”

Nanami’s glare at Gojo was sharp as the twins shook their heads, innocently amplifying the blonde’s disdain towards the white-haired sorcerer. The latter offered an apologetic smile that wasn't apologetic at all.

“Well, now seems like a good time for a quick lesson.” Nanami finally concluded.

˖ ⁺ ‧ ₊ ˚  ♡  ˚ ₊ ‧ ⁺ ˖

previous - ao3 link - masterlist - next

and we're back! geto is in the flashbacks and nanami had been introduced in the present hehe

the next chapters are going to be a bit more canon compliant, but don't worry! no shibuya here. i can't deal with what's going on in the manga nowadays so… yeah, no shibuya and no kenjaku for me!

i'm not entirely proud of this chapter, but i wanted to update and keep going!!! if i reread it any longer i'd go crazy, i'll just probably revist this later on

as always, comments and suggestions are highly appreciated! hope you guys like how it's turning out <3

[loksthegreat]

If Aemond lived long enough to meet his sisters grandkids …

[bluewingedcoyote]

Chapter 7: Truth and Consequence

Lissa had been with them a week now and the girl was an absolute godsend. Practical and unflappable, she had refused to let her brother wallow in self pity after Withen’s disastrous visit, brushing it off as ‘good riddance’ and assuring Vanyel of her unwavering support. Savil wasn’t sure what she would have done without the girl’s steadying presence. It wasn’t just that Vanyel had the support of someone else in his family, the one person who had always supported him, she was also better at dealing with his worst moods. Lendel was quickest to predict when his bond-mate was going into a downturn, but it was his sister who was able to deftly handle what was apparently a common refrain to her ears.

Lissa had the ability to pick through his surface complaints to cut through to what was actually bothering him underneath it. And she was unafraid to call Van out when he was being particularity bratty, whereas Lendel felt far to guilty to ever complain about anything Vanyel did or said. It probably helped a great deal that she had concrete examples of the good in his life to point out to him as balm to his father’s rejection. He had received a nigh-hysterical letter from Teresa trying to warn him that his father was coming for him and assuring him that her love for her firstborn son was undying.

Savil had also received a letter from her sister-in-law, while not noticeably any less hysterical, it had however contained some vital pieces of information. First of which was the enclosed letter of ‘anonymous concern’ that had sent Withen off in such a frothing fury it had terrified even those who were used to his temper. Second was that Withen had been convinced by the household priest to send Vanyel away to a remote monastery of his order to ‘purify’ him of the perverted taint that had led him astray and into a life of sin. Teresa had begged her to use whatever power was at her command, to use her position, her magic, anything to keep Withen from Vanyel. Begged her to take him far away and hide him if necessary, that she feared for her son’s life should Withen get his hands on him.

Teresa had also confessed to how much casual abuse Vanyel had suffered while at Forst Reach; the daily sword practices that were little more than public beatings, how any prank committed on him by his cousins or brothers, no matter how cruel or dangerous, was always brushed off as ‘boys being boys’. How all her protests were put down as feminine hysteria and motherly softness, how any attempt to complain to her husband that he was too hard on Vanyel had only led to harsher treatment of the boy.

It had sickened her to realize just how bad it had been for her nephew there, and for her niece as well. Lissa had gotten the opposite side of that clipped coin, constantly dismissed and diminished, too unkempt and uncouth, never feminine enough, never going to get a good husband the way she was. Barred from the sword-lessons that her brother had so hated, she had taught herself in secret, with help from rapier manuals bought without her father’s knowledge and with Vanyel as her secret sparring partner. The two of them had banded together as the black sheep of the family and been each other’s only support until Lissa had the chance to go foster with Lord Trevor.

---Read it on Ao3!---

Link to Chap Seven- Truth and Consequence

Link to Chap One- Darkest Night

[elletromil]

Job Offers

Surprising even myself, here's a new fic after about a year without having written anything :D

This one has been in my drafts for a while, half-finished, and i can't say why exactly i decided to kick my butt into finishing it but I did it!

Set in the Come Back (Home) 'verse after Harry comes back to London but is still retired and has no plan on getting back into Kingsman.

This is based on a discussion I had with @honey-bee-britt

Enjoy my good peeps :D

Job Offers

“-and while I’ll never force a retired agent to come back except if we are in dire straits, you understand why I think it’s a waste that we haven’t retained the previous Galahad’s services in some capacity.”

Merlin nods because that’s what is expected of him. He doesn’t mind their newest Arthur much most of the time, but he knows better than to try and speak him out of his newest crusade.

He knows that no matter what they do, the only way Harry would ever be tempted back into Kingsman is if the ‘dire straits’ Arthur mentioned include Eggsy being in very deep trouble or far worse. And Merlin is doing his damnedest for that to never happen. To Eggsy or any other agents under his care.

“And considering your old friendship with him, I am sure you’ll be just the man to convince him.”

Merlin stares at Arthur for a beat, wondering if this is some kind of joke. Sure, Harry and him are friends, but it’s been at least twenty years since Harry has listened to Merlin. And that’s if Merlin is actually trying to make him see reason.

Arthur is in for one hell of a disappointment.

Still he nods again without saying anything else. At the very least, it will entertain him for some time.

***

Since Harry’s return, they’ve made a habit of meeting each other for breakfast whenever Eggsy is away on a mission and Merlin isn’t needed at HQ.

It’s been two weeks since Merlin’s talk with Arthur and he hasn’t mentioned any of it to Harry yet. Mostly because retired spy or not, Harry is smart enough to know that Arthur would probably be interested in having him back in some ways. But also because there’s not really been an occasion for it.

“So, R&D is looking for someone,” he says apropos of nothing. He doesn’t phrase it as an offer because he knows what Harry’s answer would be. But he can admit to being curious to what his reaction will be.

Harry doesn’t mind talking shop with him, even if Merlin has had to learn how to be more careful about what he tells him.

“If she wasn’t so young and if Eggsy wouldn’t kill me for it, I’d recommend Daisy for the position.” There’s only good humour in Harry’s eye as he looks up from his poached eggs. “I’ve been helping her with her science project and let me tell you, I’ve been very impressed. Did you know that-”

The rest of breakfast is spent discussing Daisy and the upcoming science fair at her school.

*

Harry doesn’t say anything when Merlin pushes past him as soon as he answer the door, not waiting for an invitation to get in. After the day he’s had, he seriously has no patience for social niceties.

If Harry minds, he doesn’t say anything, but he does frown when he notices the bottle of scotch Merlin has brought with him.

“We’re eating dinner before we open that.”

Merlin would protest, but that’s about when the smell coming from the kitchen hits him and he decides that if Harry wants to feed him, well, he’d be a fool not to accept.

He lets himself be pushed into the dining room and onto a chair, his first look on Harry’s half-eaten plate enough to convince him he made the right choice by not protesting. It look as amazing as it smells.

Tastes fantastic too, he discovers as he waste no time digging into the warm food once Harry sets a serving in front of him. It’s no wonder Eggsy has been putting on some much needed weight since Harry’s return.

If he had the same to look forward to for lunch, it would be enough to remind Merlin to eat too.

He looks away from his plate to compliment Harry on the food, when he notices the obvious worry of his expression.

That’s something he’s still getting used to since Harry has been back in London, the way he is so much more open than he ever was, at least in the privacy of his own home.

“We just got a new batch of recruits to train,” he says instead of the compliment and watches the worry morphs into an amused sort of understanding.

“My sympathies.” Harry tries for something solemn, but Merlin can see his bloody dimples.

“Fuck off Hart. If you don’t stop taking the piss at my suffering, I won’t share the scotch.”

“I guess I’ll just keep all the baklava I made for dessert to myself then,” Harry threatens right back with a smirk.

“You’re such a bastard,” he grumbles half-heartedly. It’s been a while since he’s treated himself to baklava and if Harry’s taste just half as good as their meal… He really doesn’t want to miss out on them.

Harry graciously inclines his head, as if the insult had been the compliment Merlin had first intended to pay him. Exasperated, Merlin sighs before he focuses back on his plate, but he can’t quite help the smile tugging at his lips.

He might never admit it out loud, but he’s glad Harry is back.

He’s missed his friend.

*

To say the last thing he ever expected to see at their new HQ was Roxy coming into his office, armed with an enormous basket of various pastries and baked goods would be a lie, but only because Merlin would never have thought it in the realm of possibilities.

“Come on Merlin,” she urges him past his shock, “you get first pick. Or well, second really. I did help myself on the way over.”

He smiles back at her, glad to see the return of the mischievous glint in her eyes. For a long time after miraculously surviving the explosion of the old manor, she had seemed rather apathetic of the world around her even after her physical recovery.

While he knows that the experience will forever leave its mark on her, it hasn’t changed her completely. With how Roxy and Eggsy had not been in the mood to fool around together for various reasons after Poppygeddon, the morale at HQ had been bleaker than in the aftermath of V-Day.

He’s relieved that the atmosphere has been slowly improving, partly thanks to the young Knights’ return to their regular antics.

“Thank you,” he says after selecting a croissant for himself. He’s not particularly hungry yet, but that doesn’t mean he can’t enjoy it. “I didn’t know you baked.” He gestures at the basket as if he needs explaining. It’s obvious that even if it all looks highly appetizing, everything contained in the basket comes from someone’s own oven.

To his surprise, Roxy snorts rather gracelessly at that.

“Oh, I don’t bake. I barely know how to boil an egg without burning the water.” She grins, apparently unbothered by her ineptitude in the kitchen. “No, I’m just doing the delivery. Should have been Eggsy, but something came up with Daisy, so Harry enlisted my help instead.”

He nods as if it makes perfect sense.

Which in a way, it kind of does, if one knows Harry won’t even step a food inside the new tailor shop whenever he’s waiting for Eggsy.

Merlin just doesn’t understand what prompted Harry to spend hours at the oven.

“And really,” Roxy continues, probably picking up on his slight confusion like the trained spy that she is, “we should be thanking you. I don’t know what you told him, but apparently, you should expect a basket once a week as a ‘show of appreciation to all the handlers from someone who knows just how hard you work at keeping everyone as safe as they can’. A sentiment I wholly agree with.”

She’s grown more serious now, but she’s still smiling. Merlin isn’t quite sure what to do with the gratitude he sees in her eyes, the gratefulness of Harry’s gesture.

All he had done was complain to Harry that two of his handlers had burned out already this month. And he had only mentioned it after Arthur had commented to him how Harry’s expertise could make quite the difference if he was to come back in such a position. That way, he could honestly say he had made an attempt to bring Harry back into Kingsman.

And if he would be lying if he said he didn’t wish Kingsman had more handlers in its employ, he’s selfishly happy that Harry is completely uninterested in returning to any kind of active duty. His friend has given enough pieces of himself in Kingsman’s service over the past decades. He deserves to live the rest of his life as he pleases.

Especially if what pleases him is apparently fattening the whole of Kingsman with amazing food.

*

Admittedly, giving the extremely late hour, Merlin should have been sleeping in his bed rather than lying on Harry’s living room floor.

But after four days where power-napping between crisis was his only source of rest, he’s far too keyed up to attempt sleeping. And even if Eggsy’s current mission is in no way related to any of the metaphorical fires he’s had to put out all week, that doesn’t mean Harry is sleeping soundly while he’s away.

Some inane text received while he was on his back from HQ was all it took for Merlin to choose to head to the house he’s sharing with Eggsy rather than his own home.

He scowls at the cup of chamomile tea Harry sets within his reach on the low table, remembering perfectly well that he asked for the good scotch when Harry asked him if he wanted anything.

“Merlin, I can feel your headache from where I’m sitting.”

He turns his glare towards his friend, but it’s not like he’s wrong. His head has been positively pounding for the past few hours. Adding a hangover to that is probably unwise.

He shudders at the thought that Harry Hart has somehow become wiser than him. And bites back a curse when it only worsen the pain in his head.

“Hmm. It’s far.”

“I’m not going to tell you to go to bed, but you should at least take the couch.”

Merlin spares a look to the couch, before wearily staring at the foot or so of empty space that separates him from it.

He doesn’t need to look at him to know Harry is rolling his eyes at him.

He is surprise however when the rustle of fabrics isn’t followed by a pillow hitting him in the chest like he expected but rather by Harry getting up again from the armchair so he can carefully drag Merlin to the couch. Apparently, retirement has made his friend wiser and softer.

Merlin doesn’t thank him, but he does grab his hand and give it a gentle squeeze before Harry moves back to his own seat.

The silence between them is comfortable until Merlin breaks it with the most trivial of their latest crisis.

“Arthur wants to hire a new tailor.” What Arthur really wants is to hire Harry as a new tailor. He might not be an expert, but it has been his cover for a few decades. Like all of the other Knights, he had been required to know enough to get by. He had also hated it with the burning passion of a thousand suns. His words, not Merlin's

“Have you asked Dagonet’s nephew already? What was his name… Joseph?”

“Joshua,” he corrects Harry, “and no we haven’t. But that’s not a bad idea.” The man is a trained tailor unlike Harry. He doesn’t know for sure why Joshua has never been offered a position at the shop as he has never been in charge of anything relating to legitimate tailoring aspect of their organization before, but it can’t hurt to ask.

He closes his eyes, focusing on his breathing and wondering if he’s imagining the lessening intensity of his headache. He’s half asleep when he registers a soft sound he can’t place and his curiosity gets the better of him.

He opens his eyes and looks over to Harry again, still sitting in his armchair, but his hands busy with whatever was making the sound.

“What on earth are you doing?”

“A blanket.”

He raises an unimpressed eyebrow at the answer because Harry knows that’s not what he was asking.

“I’ve picked up crochet,” Harry adds after a while. “Soothes me when I worry at night.”

It’s been months since Harry’s return now, but no matter what, Merlin doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to how honest he’s become on such matters. At least not as long as Merlin himself will continue to work every day with trained spies.

He’s grateful for it however. The candour is kind of refreshing.

“Hmm. Maybe I should pick that up too.”

Harry snorts and this time, does throw a pillow at his chest. “What you really need is sleep. Not another reason to stay awake.”

A jaw-cracking yawn interrupts whatever protest he had intended to make and he decides to close his eyes rather than have to look at Harry’s smug face.

And if he does fall asleep shortly after that?

Well, he’s not too proud to admit Harry can be right.

Sometimes.

*

“You’re sure you don’t want to drive?” Merlin asks as Harry makes to climb into the passenger seat.

For once, his asking has very little to do with Arthur’s needling comments over bringing Harry back into Kingsman in some capacity.

While it is true that they do need new drivers -- hence why h is currently driving the cab himself -- mostly Merlin just loathes driving in London’s traffic. It’s very close to the very top of his list of things he doesn’t want to be doing during a mandatory day off and it’s only because having to deal with the crowd on the tube would be worse that he didn’t suggest public transport to Harry.

“You do know that I’m actually pretty shite at driving, right? I’ve been driven everywhere during most of my tenure as a spy except for car chases. And there hasn’t been a lot of them either.” It’s true. Before Eggsy becoming the new Galahad, being a Kingsman Knight had involved relatively few pursuits of that kind. “You never wondered why I never fight with Eggsy for the wheel?”

“I always assumed it was because the lad has you wrapped around his little finger.”

“Well, there’s that too,” Harry admits with a complete lack of self-consciousness. “But mostly, I don’t feel like adding to London’s traffic problems.”

“How magnanimous of you.”

“I try.”

The click of Harry finally buckling his seat-belt makes Merlin involuntarily grit his teeth and tightens his hold on the wheel.

“Think Eggsy would mind playing chauffeur for us on his day off?” He asks half-seriously instead of starting the car.

Harry laughs, but he’s already unbuckling.

“I’m sure he’ll be happy to, he was getting antsy when I left.”

*

When Merlin finally makes it to the pub, Harry takes one look at him before pushing his own pint towards him. And while Guinness isn’t usually his first choice, at the moment Merlin will take whatever he can get.

“You look terrible.”

“It’s been a terrible day… Week even.”

Harry makes a sympathetic sound and gives his hand a gentle pat, before getting up to, hopefully, get them more alcohol.

Merlin sighs as he nurses the rest of the Guinness, trying to relax.

Today might not have been ‘end-of-the-world’ terrible -- hence why he didn’t cancel his meeting with Harry -- but combine enough small annoyances together and one can still get a massive headache.

He musters a grateful smile for his friend when Harry returns with what is probably scotch for Merlin and another pint for himself.

“I took the liberty of ordering us some fish n’ chips too.”

He hums in approval in his glass. “This is why we are still friends.”

Harry rolls his eyes good-naturedly, but doesn’t take the bait.

“Want to talk about it?”

Merlin groans, the semblance of calm he achieved thanks to the scotch he’s sipping completely shattered.

“That bad? Or you can’t talk about it?” Even with Arthur being hell-bent on bringing Harry back to an active Kingsman status, the fact he’s retired means Merlin had been keeping more things from him than he’s ever had to before and they both know it.

Not because he doesn’t trust Harry, but simply because he wants it to be clear that he respects his decision to retire from the spy world.

He’ll still complain about problems that fall more under the office work category than the spy one, but that’s all he allows himself. That and vague updates about Eggsy’s missions when he thinks the situation warrants them.

“No, I can talk about it. It’s just trying to figure out where to start when it’s been everything.”

How about you start from the last thing that happened and work your way from there?”

It’s actually not a bad idea. Better than trying to figure out when and what made everything go to absolute and utter shit. (On a personal level, Merlin is aware that it all can be traced back to his decision to join Kingsman. But for the specific chaos he went through this past week… It probably has the same point of origin to be honest.)

“Paul from the kennel is retiring.”

The thing about it that made his blood pressure rocket through the sky was the pointed look Arthur gave him when he gave him the news.

And to be fair, dogs do have more of a fair chance of convincing Harry to come back, but Arthur forgets the man already has two at home. And regularly dog-sit Roxy’s poodle too.

He’s about to launch into the next annoyance -- Percival’s pyromaniac tendencies -- when he notices Harry’s sheepish expression.

“What did you do?”

Of course, Harry tries for innocence, but that hasn’t worked on Merlin in decades. One unimpressed arches of an eyebrow is all it takes for Harry to give up the pretence.

“Please don’t tell Eggsy before he’s back.”

“Can’t make that promise without knowing what you’ve done,” he replies to that without an ounce of pity.

Harry might be his oldest friend, but that doesn’t mean Merlin will always side with him. Especially not when it can affect Eggsy.

The lad has more than earned his loyalty, especially after the year they both spent keeping each other afloat from their grief when they mistakenly believed Harry was dead. And not after the year after that where Merlin had to watch Eggsy continuously making the hard choice to stay rather than run after Harry as he so obviously wanted to.

There’s a beat of hesitation before Harry caves. “I might have adopted a new dog.”

For a moment there, Merlin can only stare at Harry’s guilty fidgeting. And then, he can’t help it.

He starts laughing.

When even the appearance of their meals isn’t enough to stop his hilarity, Harry starts pouting.

“It’s not that funny.”

And it’s not, not really.

But it has been a while since Merlin has had any reason to laugh, no matter how ridiculous it is.

It’s not like Harry is in any real trouble anyway. The man has more than enough time to take care of another dog. And Merlin is certain Eggsy won’t stay mad for long after he’s subjected to a puppy-eyed look.

Now, whether the look will be from the actual puppy or from Harry, that’s a completely different story.

*

“Sit your arse back down on that couch Harry.”

He grabs Harry’s elbow before he can take another step in the direction of the front door.

“But-”

“No Harry.” His voice his firm, but the slight tug he gives Harry’s arm wouldn’t even move a child. “I know you’re worried, but you can’t go.”

“You could sneak me in,” Harry tries weakly.

“I could,” Merlin agrees easily, but only because he knows he’s won already when Harry drops on the cushion next to him. “And I would. If it was in any way serious. But Eggsy’s only being kept in the infirmary as a precaution. Gaius doesn’t he’s got a concussion, but he’d rather be safe than sorry.”

Harry lets out a shaky breath and Merlin drapes an arm around his shoulders in silent comfort.

“You’re not gonna tell me Gaius has been looking for a new nurse?”

Merlin knows that Harry has been perfectly aware that all the mentions of the various Kingsman’s openings have been Merlin’s rather unenthusiastic attempts to bring him back into the fold. Harry might be retired, but he’s still one of the best spy Merlin has ever known.

After all, there is a reason the man got to retire.

But the question stings even if he’s made an accurate guess as to what Arthur told Merlin before he left to let Harry know in person not to expect Eggsy tonight.

“I didn’t know you thought so badly of me that you’d believe I’d take advantage of your current state of mind.”

He feels Harry flinch against him at the words. He’s half-tempted to push him away out of wounded pride, but before he can resolve himself to it, Harry press one of Merlin’s hand between his.

“It’s not you I think badly of. I don’t think I’ve ever said it in so many words, but you’re a great friend Merlin. I am lucky to have you. We all are.” That’s Harry’s newfound honesty and openness in action again and for the first time, Merlin thinks he could learn to get used to it. “It’s Arthur I think rather poorly of.”

Merlin hums in understanding.

Of course, Harry would have guessed what, or rather who, was behind Merlin’s vague job offers.

“He’s not all that bad,” he still feels the need to say. Not out of any particular loyalty towards Arthur, but simply because it’s true. He’s not that bad. At the very least, Merlin truly believe the man won’t ever be swayed by a megalomaniac into mass murdering civilians. “And you’re a great friend too.”

It’s not anything he would usually have admitted to without withstanding some sort of prolonged torture first, but Harry’s openness must have been rubbing off on him these past few months.

And if he’s being honest, it was surprisingly easy to say.

It’s what prompts him to add more. “I’m glad you came back Harry. I missed you.”

Harry only acknowledge the words with a soft press of the hand he’s still holding between his.

A somewhat peaceful silence falls over them after that, as comfortable as it can be with the undercurrent of worry they feel for Eggsy.

It doesn’t last long before Harry breaks it however.

“I could always replace Arthur.”

“Please no. I’d actually kill if you were my boss.”

[lhrry]

i've got so much respect for what coldplay do