#and there has to be some guilt from naomi

[rocicrew]

haha don't you ever think about naomi rejecting a leadership position because she knew it would cost her too much and then making that decision because it was the only right choice to make at the time and ending the series with her Very much paying that cost and just sob

[trippinsorrows]

looking through your eyes + twenty five

authors note: this chapter is emotionally heavy and taxing. please be mindful of your mental ability to handle heavy content.

cw/tw: angst, discussion of child abuse, and direct accounts of child abuse from said child.

song inspo: ‘looking through your eyes’ by leann rimes

masterlist +story playlist + taglist request form

words: 10k

Giving Roman his space while also being worried sick about him is the last thing Solana was expecting to experience this week, but it’s exactly where she’s got.

They didn’t leave on the best of terms. It wasn’t hostile, not nasty, and no one was angry. There was just this lingering tension. Some level of animosity and frustration on her part, because he refused to listen to her.

Because he refused to stay.

And that irksome guilt on his part. Solana could see it smoldering every time he looked at her, looked at her face, at the bruise. So much so that Solana went and put makeup on in the hopes that camouflaging it could ebb away some of the undeserved guilt. A fruitless effort because he still packed his bag, still gave her that almost reluctant kiss, still murmured an almost sad ‘I love you’ (that she did not reciprocate), and walked out the door.

He still left her. 

It’s childish to a certain extent. Her behavior during his departure. Solana knows and recognizes this. But, it stems deep down from a deep place of concern. She’s worried sick about him, hates that he hates himself for an accident. 

There’s not a single part of her that believes that man would ever lift his hand to her. That’s not her Roman.

What happened truly was an accident. She just wishes she could get him to see that.

She’s hopeful the item she snuck in his bag will help. 

Even if just a little.

The communication between them in the time since he’s been gone is almost non-existent. He texted her when he arrived in Italy and when he made it to the hotel. For that, she was grateful, but she just couldn’t find it in her to offer a written response, settling for hearting his messages. Again, childish. And Solana can recognize that her behavior also stems from just being frustrated with him, angry with him for not staying and going with her plan.

For going so far away to the point that she can’t help him. She just wants to be there for and support him, and all he can seem to do is….is push her away.

And that hurts.

Deeply. 

Especially when he’s been so good in trying and succeeding in supporting her in all of her mess. All she wants to do is return the favor, but he won’t let her. 

And that’s when the anger sets in. Such an unfamiliar experience. 

She’s not an angry person. But, she certainly feels like one.

It’s why she has the thought—or maybe hope—that training will be a good outlet for her to let off some of this uncharacteristic anger. 

If only it happened that way.

Or maybe Solana was too naive. Stupid, possibly, to think she could just walk into training like nothing happened, like the proof of something happening isn’t literally written all over her face in black and blue.

Solana has barely stepped into the training space when the smiles on both Bayley and Naomi’s faces collapse the minute they lay eyes on her.

“Oh my god, Solana!” They rush over, Solana starting to wish she’d taken the time out to use makeup to conceal the bruise. As much as she could. The pigmentation is deep, and even with the heavy application, it was still visible when she tried to hide it for Roman’s sake. “What the hell happened to your face?”

Solana looks away, already regretting her decision to come here in the first place. “I’m fine.”

“What the hell do you mean you’re fine?” Bayley’s eyes are wide, her face painted in disbelief. “Solana, your face is all bruised up.”

An exaggeration. It’s focused on one side of her face, but given the nastiness of its appearance, Solana can slightly understand the description. 

“Solana, what the hell happened?” Naomi repeats her question, this time her lips formed into a line before she asks, “who hit you?” Solana closes her eyes and shakes her head. This is the last thing she needs to be dealing with right now, especially with the nausea that’s starting to build. 

This morning sickness is clearly about to kick her ass with this pregnancy. 

“Solana….” Bayley cuts in, and almost instantly, Solana knows she’s not about to like whatever is said. “Did Roman hit you?”

At that, Solana’s attention is immediately focused back on Bayley. She was absolutely correct in that she doesn’t like the question. At all. 

She can barely find the words to respond to such a thing. “What?”

Naomi looks past her, motioning someone over by them. “Jimmy! Come here.”

Shit. 

And just like that, the situation is progressing from bad to worse. Yeah….she definitely wishes she’d just stayed home. 

“Whassup?” Jimmy’s jovial voice sounds from behind her, Solana barely able to match his smile before, just like Bayley and Naomi, it’s dropped the second he lays eyes on her. On the bruise. “What the hell?” 

“Jimmy, pl—”

“Solana….” Another indication more anger is about to be stirred up on her part. An accurate expectation given the next question to leave his mouth. “Did Roman hit you?” The second it leaves his mouth, she’s filled with anger, but there’s a matching level of that emotion on his end as well. He shakes his head, voice dead serious, more than she’s ever heard from him since their initial meeting months prior. “The truth, Solana. If that son of a bitch, hit you, I wanna know. I’ll handle it.”

They mean well. She knows they mean well, but it’s a combination of all the things. Of what happened with Roman. Roman leaving. A possible pregnancy. A pregnancy she’s hiding because she can’t tell her husband just yet.

It’s just too much.

“Would you all just shut up?” She snaps, voice raised, several sets of eyes on her with varying levels of bewilderment. “I said he didn’t do it, and the fact that you all even think he could ever be capable of that is disgusting.”

Because it is. Because they should know him better than that. He’s a lot of things, but that has never been one of them.

And the fact that they’re accusing him of such is infuriating to her. 

Shaking her head, she turns on her heel to leave. “I’m out of here.”

“Solana, wait—”

But, she does nothing of the sort, just keeps walking away, never once looking back.

————

Regrets are a tricky thing. Varying in size and impact. Never a major issue for Roman.

Not until two days prior.

Two days prior where demons from his past submerged, resulting and causing him to do the unthinkable.

On a basic level, he knows it was an accident. Knows that he would never intentionally do anything to ever hurt his wife. Especially in that way. But, the key word is intentionally, because regardless of what he intended, she was hurt.

She was hurt because of him. By his hands. And, that’s something Roman can’t seem to make peace with. Every time he thinks of texting her, of even trying to call her, he’s hit with a flash of her pretty, innocent face marred with that hideous bruise.

A bruise he caused her to have.

And he just as quickly puts his phone away.

He instead opts for something different, something he hasn’t dared to touch since spotting it when emptying his luggage and hanging up some clothes.

Roman walks over to the nightstand where the purple journal with tattered edges and  random stickers plastered has sat untouched. Until now.

Solana’s journal.

It’s aged, most likely one from when she was still a child, and he hasn’t the slightest clue when she placed it in his bag, but the minute he opens it and sees a pink post it with her handwriting on it, his stomach twists in a way it’s only done in the past few months after years of dormancy.

It’s a simple, short but powerful message.

You could never be them.

-Solana

Roman closes his eyes. Right away, he knows he’s in for a heavy, brutal insight into the hell she experienced for so many years. A part of him doesn’t want to. Doesn’t feel fully capable or even worthy of reading her vulnerable words. Her journals are a private thing he would never want to invade. However, she placed it in his bag for a reason. She wants him to read it, some of it, at least. 

The least he can give her……is that.

Bracing himself as best he can for what he’s about to read, Roman turns to the first entry.

Dear Mami,

I try really hard not to make dad upset, but it’s hard. He’s always angry and yelling at me. 

I know you always told me to stay out of his way, but it’s hard, mama. He makes me do all the cleaning and cooking like he made you. Sometimes, he doesn’t let me eat. 

I wish you were here.

Love,

Sol

————

Dear Mami,

Yesterday was really scary. Dad yelled at me for almost an hour and was throwing things. He hit me, too. I tried not to cry.

I’m trying to be strong like you, but it’s hard.

I’m not like you, mami. I’m not strong, and I don’t know how to be.

I miss you,

Sol

————

Dear Mami,

I keep looking for Hummingbirds. I know you said they don’t fly here, but I keep hoping I’ll see just one. I just want to see you again, mama. I miss you so much.

I wish they never took you from me.

I don’t have anybody anymore. 

I’m all alone.

Love,

Sol

————

Dear Mami,

I don’t know what I did, but I made dad really mad. He just kept hitting me and hitting me. Then Wes started hitting me too. It was hard for me to get the blood to stop, but I did exactly what you taught me, and it worked.

My body hurts really bad, but I’m scared to leave my room cause I might see dad.

I think I’m gonna sleep in the closet tonight.

Love,

Sol

————

Mami,

I’m sorry I haven’t written you. 

Something….something really bad happened to me, mama. 

The detective lady said it wasn’t my fault, but it was. I was too weak. I’m not strong like you.

I’m sorry I let you down.

I hope you still love me.

Solana

————

It’s that last entry that Roman has to stop at. He can handle a lot. Has handled a lot, but this…..this he can’t.

He always knew Solana went through hell in that house, both from speculation as well as confirmation from her. But, to read her words in real time, to see with his own eyes the extent of that hell.

A child. She was a fucking child.

No one deserves what she went through.

No one. 

And while he understands her intentions, maybe hope, she had with him reading her entries being enough to trigger more self-forgiveness. Thought that him gaining better insight into her abuse would lessen his feelings of guilt towards his actions…..that’s not entirely the outcome.

Maybe to some extent.

But, it’s hard to feel any bit better knowing he’s unintentionally contributed to her massive pile of traumatic experiences. 

Ashamed. Roman feels ashamed. A new, heavy ass experience that has him partially weighed down, even more so now knowing exactly some of the thoughts and sentiments Solana experienced while enduring years worth of torture. 

Eyes shut, he’s tempted to grab his phone and just text her, check in on her. Because while he hates what he did, he also hates how they left off.

How he left her. 

Because she didn’t want him to leave. Because she practically begged him to stay, but he left regardless, because he didn’t feel right being and staying around her after what happened. 

Didn’t feel like she was safe around him.

The way he still feels now. 

Redirecting himself, Roman instead swaps the journal for his phone, choosing to respond to messages from Dwayne and Matteo. Focusing on the business purpose of his trip. He can at least acknowledge that he’s done a decent job completely immersing himself in the role of Capo. A necessity given the purpose of this whole trip.

Well, the original purpose. 

Interactions with members of the Administration thus far have irked him almost as much as interactions with the Elders. Their judgmental expressions of his long hair—that he absolutely wears down just to piss them off—and tattoos—also hidden—do nothing to hide the racist reasons they truly despise him. 

It’s a nice distraction, knowing how much he gets under their skin, knowing that it kills them that he’s as intelligent and successful and fucking good as he is, hence why they can’t find a legitimate way to dethrone him. 

The memory of him putting a babbo down brings a small smirk to his face. A small slice of amusement tucked in between everything else heavy and egregious. It’s short lived, however. Because it’s not pertinent right now. 

No, Roman has other matters to tend to, much more important ones that he’s gone back and forth with himself on for days, ultimately deciding to bite the bullet.

Even with having this newfound piece of information via Solana’s journals. 

Roman moves over to the table and opens up his laptop, a quick glance at the clock on the wall alerting him that it’s time. 

Logging in and getting set up take less than a minute, only for her to not be on, that annoying ass “Your clinician will start the appointment shortly” welcome message taunting him.

And just like that, Roman is instantly annoyed.

Does punctuality mean fucking nothing?

He’s even more irritated when the screen lights up a couple minutes later revealing his wife’s therapist. “You’re late.”

Gail looks like she wants to roll her eyes but ultimately decides not to. A wise decision. “I usually don’t get into the office until—”

“I don’t care.” He honestly, truly doesn’t. There’s a bit of hesitation as he asks, “how is she doing?”

Roman watches her shift in her seat, followed by movement that indicates she’s moving around some items on her desk. “Good. I’m pleased with her progress and dedication to continuing treatment.”

That’s relieving to hear. Much more than he’s willing to let on. Especially after what he just finished reading. “Did she attend yesterday?” He already knows the answer, having stayed on top of Nia via probably annoying, frequent texts reminding her of all the important things. Times of Solana’s appointments. Location of said appointments. Importance of making sure Nia puts Solana’s medication back exactly where he keeps it.

All of the things.

“She did.” He sees it, the unspoken question in her voice. And, he’s prepared to tell her to just ask the shit, letting him decide if he wants to answer it or not. But, she’s two steps ahead of him. “Mr. Reigns, this call wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with the bruise she tried to hide with makeup, now would it?”

Fuck.

Roman doesn’t care about her question or the almost implication in said question. What he cares about is the fact that his wife is having to cake her face in makeup to hide the result of his lack of self0control. Is having to lie about how she acquired said bruise. 

It’s……crushing. Truly. 

Reminds him of her haunting words written as a child.

Similar words probably being penned in her most recent journal as a result of his actions. 

His arrogance is definitely knocked down a peg, as he asks in a low voice, “what did she tell you?”

Gail sits back in her chair, answering evenly. “Accident while training.”

It’s believable. Roman will give Solana that, but he’s not surprised. She probably spent years having to explain away bruises as a result of her despicable family. 

It’s difficult to not group himself in that same category, however. 

No matter what Solana says. 

“You said…..you said she’s codependent on me.” Roman’s gaze is focused on the cherry wood table in his hotel room and not on the woman watching him through the screen. It’s…..it’s easier that way. “How attached is she to me?”

Gail’s eyes narrow as she jumps straight to the point. “Roman, what exactly are you asking me?”

Nothing he ever anticipated having to ask. 

Or even consider.

It’s difficult for him to hide the heaviness in said answer. “What do you think it would do to her mentally if we weren’t together anymore?”

————

Here in the night

I see the sun

Here in the dark

Our two hearts are one

Solana grabs her phone and pauses the music, realizing it’s been a while since she took a break.

Sitting in her home library, surrounded by boxes, boxes filled with her books and journals finally transported from her work library has been the activity to occupy her racing mind for the past two hours.

It’s been a nice distraction. That and work itself the past few days. Getting back into her usual routine has been helpful, and coming back to a barrage of letters, cards, drawings, and other heartwarming gifts from the kids really was the highlight of her return. 

She’s never felt so loved than in the moment where they practically bum rushed her with hugs or when Mrs. Jensen handed over all of their “get well soon” gifts they’d brought in while she was away. It was enough to bring tears to her eyes, a welcomed change given those tears came from pleasant emotions.

Not like the ones she’s been crying ever since Roman left a couple days ago. She still hasn’t spoken to him. Not really. Not outside of occasional almost awkward check-in texts that she replies to with just as much awkwardness, if not just an emoji reaction. 

It’s miserable and stupid. She wants to talk to him. Wants to hear his voice, but she’s also trying to be respectful. Then there’s the lingering anger and frustration toward him for leaving, even if it’s subsided mostly into just sadness.

And loneliness. 

She misses him.

Misses falling asleep next to and waking up to him, something she was deprived of when she was away at treatment. But now, she’s right back in the same space. 

And even this, finally being able to start setting up her library/art room he thoughtfully created for her, is a bittersweet thing. She always imagined this being something they would do. Her handing journals and books to Roman for him to place up on the shelves that she cannot reach. His arms around her, frequently distracting her with dirty whispers of promised pleasure later that evening. Her sitting on his lap as she feeds him whatever she decided to make for lunch as they took a break.

It was just supposed to be different from this. 

Solana’s hand falls to her stomach. 

It was all supposed to be different from this. 

Tears pooling once again, she shakes her head, refusing to spiral yet again. She instead grabs her phone and once again ignores the unread texts from a variety of people. Naomi. Bayley. Even Melina and them.

Their messages are warranted given the abrupt almost cold text she sent to their group telling them the girls trip was off and to be postponed for a later date and time.

A part of her feels bad, but she’s mostly relieved. 

She just….she just needs space.

Doesn’t feel like talking.

If it’s not Roman, she’s not interested.

Her husband is the only person she wants to interact with, but she can't. Thus, her self-imposed isolation. 

He’s not an option currently, so until then, she just wants to be alone.

Solana is interrupted by her phone dinging, and the way she jumps with the hope that it’s maybe Roman is squashed the minute she realizes it’s not his notification sound and simply a calendar reminder. 

Appt w/ Dr. Michaels @ 2pm

Solana gasps and curses to herself.

She’d completely forgotten about scheduling that, most likely because she hates the fact that she’s even doing it.

She quickly hits dismiss on the alarm and stands up, sliding the phone in the back pocket of her jean shorts. The space around her is still a mess, some boxes partially open, others still taped shut. This is a project that’s clearly going to need to be completed in phases.  

Thus, she grabs a couple of unorganized journals scattered on the floor and drops them into a box, just to get them out the way, missing how a faded letter with her name written across in neat handwriting slips out one of the books and lays untouched and unseen on the floor. 

Out of the library and into the rest of the house, Solana has little difficulty finding Nia. Her husband's cousin who he somehow talked into, most likely forced, to stay with her has spent most of her time in her room, the gym, or the living room. 

And the latter of which is where Solana finds her, but not only her. Bautista is present, standing near the opposite end of the sofa where Nia sits.

It’s not surprising, however, given his almost “promotion” to guarding her at home, alternating with Solo for some outside outings as well. His service while she was away as well as his friendly disposition and Solana being comfortable with him securing this new arrangement.

Solana nervously clears her throat. “Nia?”

The other woman sighs. Loudly. “What?”

And just like that, the nerves are starting to set in. Nia isn’t going to like this. “I forgot I scheduled a doctor’s appointment today.”

Nia’s groan is also loud as she pauses the show and turns to Solana with a scowl. “Seriously? Can’t you like reschedule it or something?”

Not really. “No. I—I need to go.”

“Are you dying?”

Solana hesitates for a second. “Umm, no, but—”

“Then you don’t need to go,” she says it in the cheeriest voice, grabbing the remote to turn off the TV. Standing up, Nia briefly looks over at a quiet Bautista then back at Solana. “I’m going to take a nap.”

Solana frowns. Does Nia not have other plans then? Because, Solana could understand if her appointment interfered with pre-existing obligations, but if there are none….what’s the issue?

Once it’s just the two of them, Bautista clears his throat. “If…..if I may?”

Solana looks over at him, managing a small smile. “Of course.” It doesn’t matter how many times she tells this man he doesn’t have to behave so reserved around her, he remains firm with his professionalism and manners. 

Regardless, the respect is deeply appreciated.

He walks over to her, keeping a respectful distance but still close enough for her to hear his calm, leveled voice. “Roman Reigns is our Tribal Chief. He sits at the Head of the Table. We all acknowledge him just like we all answer to him.” His tone takes a firmer, almost convictive nature. “You are Solana Reigns. The wife of the Tribal Chief, meaning you sit directly next to him at that table. You only answer to him. No one else.”

Silence.

There’s a heavy but powerful silence that follows his words. A silence that’s filled with thinking and recognition. Solana has always known, never been ignorant to the power her husband holds. All that comes with his status and position. But, it’s not until this moment, not until Bautista frames it that way, that she fully recognizes just how much of that, if not all of it, carries over to his wife.

She is the wife of the Tribal Chief.

And that means something. 

Nodding from a newfound sense of confidence and credence, Solana offers a heartfelt, “thank you, Bautista.” Lifting her chin, she informs, “we’ll be leaving shortly.”

There’s a small smile playing on his lips. “Yes ma’am.”

Pleased and determined, Solana turns on her heel and doesn’t waver as she makes her way up the stairs and down the hall until she’s standing before Nia’s door. 

She doesn’t even bother with knocking.

Opening the door, Solana finds Nia laying in bed. She jumps up and removes her sleep mask, irritation all over her face. “What the he—”

“I said I have an appointment.” Solana has never felt more assured than she does at this moment, not a bit of her reluctant as she orders, “be ready in half an hour.”

And with that, she turns on her heel and walks out without another word.

It’s not needed.

She said what she said.

————

Despite an excellent, earlier display of assertiveness, to say Solana feels good about her decision, as a whole, would be a lie, because she doesn’t. Going behind Roman’s back is what she feels like she’s doing, and that is an awful feeling. But, she’s in this tricky situation where she doesn’t want to tell him about the pregnancy if there is in fact no pregnancy. And if she is pregnant, she doesn’t want to tell him via a text or phone call because that feels too impersonal. And, she also just doesn’t want to tell him, period, because he’s already beating himself up over what happened and him knowing that she is pregnant could only make it worse.

And yes, she could just take a home test, but at this point, she needs to know with absolute certainty. A home test can’t do that for her.

But, a blood test can.

Thus, where she currently sits: in the lobby of the private clinic where her husband’s doctor operates out of. Because she needs a medical professional, but she doesn’t know who to go to. Doesn’t know how this is supposed to work. She just knows that if she is pregnant, it’s important that it doesn’t get out for a lot of reasons.

Especially since she has to be the one to tell her husband.

Just when the time is right. 

“Why exactly are we here again?” Nia’s bored voice cuts her from her thoughts, Solana looking up from the thread she has opened. The one between her and Roman. “It’s probably just allergies.”

As part of doing her best to hide her pregnancy, Solana wisely made up an excuse of her throat feeling weird and a headache to explain to Nia and Bautista this otherwise random appointment. So far, it seems to be working. “Maybe, but I just want to make sure. You know Roman had the flu not too long ago.”

Nia rolls her eyes and wisely says nothing else, focusing back on the book in her hand. It’s not missed upon Solana how her gaze briefly darts to Bautista.

She’s not sure what exactly is going on there, but Solana could get behind it. In a strange sort of way, they just make sense to her. 

He could maybe help Nia level out the way Solana tends to help Roman with his temper.

“Mrs. Reigns?” 

Solana looks up to see the nurse standing by the door. She turns to Nia and Bautista. “I’ll be back.”

“You sure you don’t need us to wait in the hall or something?” His question is valid as is the concern on his handsome face, but Solana can’t risk them somehow overhearing the truth behind this appointment. 

“No, I’ll be fine.” She manages a small smile that probably doesn’t reach her eyes, turning on her heel to follow the nurse to the back. 

Solana is most definitely experiencing heightened anxiety that only intensifies when she spots Dr. Michaels coming from the other end of the hall. 

He’s not alone, however. A tall man, about the same height as the doctor. Smooth chocolate skin with a decent build for a man who looks to be in his fifties is beside him, focused on whatever Dr. Michaels is saying to him. 

“......firefighter, doctor, what’s next? Police officer.” She overhears her husband’s doctor who wears a teasing smile. “You’re just crossing them all off the list, ain’t you?” A friendly set of blue eyes settle on her when the gap between both is closed. “Well, what a sur—”

“Solana……”

Solana finds herself frowning, her attention directed to the man who she’s never seen before this very moment but who somehow knows her name and is staring directly at her. It’s not a predatory stare or even something inappropriate. It’s almost…..sad.

He’s looking at her like he’s just seen a ghost.

Dr. Michaels is also looking at the man next to him but with a different kind of expression. One that screams, you can’t just address the Tribal Chief’s wife so informally like that. “Mrs. Reigns, I apologize for the wait.” 

Solana shakes her head, still unsure why this stranger keeps staring at her. “It’s okay.” She hugs herself, looking past him to see if she can spot whatever door is open that could be the room they’ll be in. “Are you ready or…..”

“Of course.” He turns to the man beside him, offering a handshake. “Good to have you on the team, Dr. Adams.” 

Dr. Adams.

Yeah, not familiar at all. 

This Dr. Adams finally removes his gaze from her to accept Dr. Michaels handshake, only nodding as he gives her one last, almost regretful look and carefully moves past her.

Solana frowns in the wake of his absence. What was that?

Dr. Michaels apologizes again. “Sorry about that. Come with me.” Wordlessly, she follows him, moving to sit on the patient bed, anxiety growing once again as he closes the door. “Now, I hear you’re having some—”

“You can’t tell Roman I was here.”

It’s certainly not what she planned to say. Not yet, anyway. But, it’s exactly what comes out, Solana closing her eyes and going to correct herself. “I mean…..I’m gonna tell him myself. I just….I just need time.”

Time and a plan. Along with many other things she doesn’t need to tell the man before her.

His jovial disposition has shifted into something almost nervous and uncomfortable. “Solana, what’s going on here?”

She takes a breath, head tilted back, giving herself one final boost of encouragement before answering. “I need…..I need a pregnancy test.”

The release of what she’s been holding in for the past couple weeks is both terrifying and relieving. She hates that the first person she’s uttering the words to, even if just a thought of pregnancy, isn’t her husband. But, she also knows that she’s stuck between a rock and a hard place. Even more, she needs to know for certain, and Dr. Michaels is the only one who can provide her with that answer.

He looks only slightly less confused. “I see…..” Shifting the tablet under his arm to in front of him, he speculates, “and Roman doesn’t know that you might be…..”

“No,” she answers, voice small. “I’m—I’m going to tell him, but I want to know for sure first.” Again, only a part of a much bigger, complicated story. 

“Well, I can absolutely do a blood test, but I’m general medicine, Solana. I’m not an—”

“OB-GYN. I know. I just…..I didn’t know who else to go to. You’re Roman’s doctor, so he obviously trusts you.” Enough to manage his health, at least. “And I don’t know if there’s a specific doctor the Bloodline uses—”

“There is,” he supplies with a small smile. “I’ll make sure to give you her info before you leave. Even if….” He trails off, clearly not wanting to state what Solana would be shocked to find out is a false alarm.

She feels pregnant. 

He clears his throat. “I don’t mean to pry, but have you told anyone e—”

“No.” It’s an easy, truthful answer. “I haven’t said a word to anyone, and I won’t. Not until I find out if I am and definitely not until I tell Roman.”

He nods, clearly agreeing with this plan. “I will say, the big guy might order that this pregnancy stays just between you and your care team. And I guess me now,” he ends with a chuckle. “You’re the Tribal Chief’s wife who might be carrying his first official heir. That target over your head just got a hell of a lot bigger.” It’s weird, but his words don’t come across as fearmongering or even a scare tactic. Just a genuine warning of what’s to come. “But, that’ll be discussed between—”

“How is he?” It’s a breathless almost thing that falls out of her mouth. An unintended question but one she finds herself asking, nonetheless. “Roman, I mean, like….his health.”

Because on top of worrying about his mental state, being in front of his doctor has her curious about the physical side of things. 

“You’re a smart young lady, Solana.” Dr. Michaels starts, voice tentative almost. “You know how HIPAA works…..”

She closes her eyes. “I’m not asking you as a patient’s wife. I’m–” She takes a deep breath, voice firm and solid. “I’m asking you as the Tribal Chief’s wife.”

Bautista’s words still playing in the back of her head, Solana has never really considered what role she plays as Roman’s wife. Never thought to pull that card, because it’s almost out of character. She’s always been more inclined to shy away from status than to use it to her benefit. But, this is different. This is about Roman, and there isn’t much she wouldn't do to help him or even to know if and what he needs help with. 

And he’s been mum regarding his blood pressure as of late, so her curiosity is only naturally piqued. 

There’s obvious hesitation, but he relents, partially to her surprise. “He’s doing alright. Numbers look decent. Seems that he’s finally recognizing how serious this could be if he doesn’t do what he needs to do to keep from progressing to another stage again.”

“Wait. What?” Solana frowns. “Stage? What….what are you talking about?” A brief look of panic flashes in his blue eyes, alerting Solana that something is very much not right. “What stage?”

“Fuck…..” He closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. “He didn’t tell you….”

“Tell me what?” Solana presses, her anxiety almost through the roof  “I’m not—I’m not gonna ask again.”

Dr. Michaels sighs with defeat. “Look, the last time Roman was here, his numbers were bad. Like, he jumped from prehypertension to stage one actual hypertension bad. I had to up his dosage and increase his follow up appointments as well as bloodwork check-ins.” Solana’s heart swells and her stomach jumps, and Dr. Michaels clearly sees how devastated this news has her, thus him adding, “but, like I said, he’s been on top of it and is looking good…..”

It’s hard for her to focus on that ending bit when all she can think about is one thing.

Lie.

Roman lied to her. 

She asked him. She fucking asked him how his appointment went, how his blood pressure was doing, if he was okay. And, he lied. He lied to her face. He told her he was fine, and he wasn’t.

He still isn’t. 

And this time, instead of lying, he’s just left.

Ran away. 

Like he always does. 

“Solana…..”

It’s the almost gentle way her name is said that alerts her to the fact that she’s crying, tears spilling down her face as she clutches her stomach. 

“Can I just have the test, please?” Because that’s all she wants and needs at this point. She just needs to know for certain, and she needs to get the hell out of here. 

She just needs to get away from it all.

————

Solana has never considered herself an irrational person. Most definitely not impulsive. Even with both of her suicide attempts, they may have been impulsive in the moment, but they didn’t indicate a truly impulsive personality or even disposition. 

But, that hasn’t been the case for the past three days.

No, it hasn’t been the case, because Solana’s current situation is the direct result of impulsivity.

She sits in her bedroom, Dulce sleeping peacefully in her bed on the floor beside her. Bautista and Nia are somewhere in the house that is not her main home, but the house purchased by her husband for her.

She’s in Isla Mujeres.

And has been for three days now.

Coming home from the shocking appointment, Solana found herself packing a small bag for herself, one for Dulce, and telling both Nia and Bautista to get ready because they were flying out that night. 

Her command left no room for argument, and that’s exactly what occurred, hence how Solana ended up where she is.

It’s been a true form of escape.

Feeling overwhelmed with all of it, Solana knew she needed to just not be around any of it.

And this place has served as a site of refuge, providing her with some level of tranquility that’s been escaping her back home.

Again, her random text to the group chat regarding her “going away” for a couple of days was met with another round of bombarding messages and calls. And Solana isn’t stupid, she knows and can understand her friends being concerned about her.

But, it’s not like she’s entirely alone. She has two people who are making sure she’s safe despite her perhaps strange behavior, and that’s all that matters.

Because she just needs space.

And in an unexpected turn of events, Roman has been added to that list.

He lied. He lied to her. Lied to her about something so important, something regarding his health, of all things. Was dishonest with her.

Again.

It’s becoming a bit of a theme, and she’s not naive. She can somewhat understand why he didn’t tell her. At first. Because she was in the midst of treatment.

But, she’s home now. She’s been home. Why would he not come clean?

Tears burn her eyes. It’s hard to balance understanding with feeling betrayed, because this isn’t the first time her husband hasn’t been honest with her.

And if she’s being honest with herself, this “reason” for the dishonesty being because he’s trying to protect her is…..it’s getting old.

She’s just so frustrated with him. 

So much of this could be avoided if he would just talk to her, and she’s running out of different ways to help him understand as such. 

Wiping at her eyes, Solana grabs a journal off the nightstand. Something she’s discussed with Gail in therapy as of late is the importance of never forgetting where she came from, how far she’s come. Remembering that she’s moving in the right direction.

It’s a strange thing, too. 

On one hand, reading journals from when she was a child and teenager could and maybe should be triggering. And it is. To a certain extent.

But, Solana is proud to say that she can revisit these painful memories and not be drawn back into those dark emotions but rather recognize that was how she used to feel. Where she used to be. 

Who she used to be.

But, not anymore.

Never again.

Solana leans back against the headboard and opens the journal, unsure what she’s about to read but ready regardless.

Dear Mami,

I miss you so much. I’m so so sorry for everything. I’m so sad now that you’re gone. I wish you were here. Daddy is so mean to me. Wes now too. He hates me because it’s my fault you’re dead. 

I’m so sorry. 

Love,

Sol

————

Dear Mami, 

Everything is so much badder now. Daddy is angry at me all the time. Wes too. They call me names. They hurt me, mommy. 

I wish I could be with you.

Yours,

Sol

————

Dear Mami, 

I’m sorry I haven’t written you lately. Daddy got mad at me for spilling some juice, and he broke my arm, so I couldn’t write.

I just got the cast off this morning. 

It still hurts a lot, but at least I can write you.

I got all A’s this quarter, mami! I’m trying to make you proud.

Hope you’ve forgiven me.

Solana

————

Dear Mami,

I feel so sad. Nothing makes me happy anymore. I try to think of you. Remember the times we would draw and sing and cook together. But, it’s not working anymore.

Mommy, I have times where I feel like I can’t breathe cause I feel so sad.

And sometimes when I just don’t want to breathe anymore at all.

Solana

————

Dear Mami,

I don’t want to do this anymore.

Solana

————

Mom,

It was a rough day. I had those thoughts again. I was able to fight them, but it’s so hard. 

I try to think about how you always told me to never stop dreaming. Never stop believing that life is a gift. I try, but it’s hard. 

I try to dream that not all men are like dad and Wes. That not every man in my life will hurt me. That maybe……just maybe I can fall in love someday. Find and marry someone who’s actually nice to me, who treats me with kindness, who loves me.

Kind of like my prince charming.

Do you think I could ever have a happily ever after?

Love,

Sol

Reading the entries definitely stirs up emotions, but it’s the last letter, however, that has her tears subsiding and the weight on her chest decreasing. A complete shift away from the heavy, depressing entries from such dark times in her life. 

A man unlike her dad and brother. 

Roman.

A man who would never hurt her like her dad and brother. 

Roman

A man she could love and marry. Someone who treats her with kindness and loves her. 

Roman 

Solana snaps the journal shut and cries a little harder, feels a little deeper, the realization hitting her like a stack of bricks over the head.

Roman isn’t perfect. He may seem like it sometimes, but he isn’t. He’s just a man. A human being like any other human being. He has his faults, the same way she has hers. He has his demons, just like she has hers.

But one thing that’s always remained consistent is him. He’s been her pillar since the beginning of their marriage, even when things were rocky and they were trying to learn each other. He’s been there for her.

More than any other man in her life, and this rough patch for him, for them, should not be anything that has her questioning him or their relationship.

Roman loves her. Plain and simple. 

The same way she loves him. 

And it’s that love that’s going to get them through this.

Wiping at her eyes, nodding to herself, Solana takes a deep breath. Swapping the notebook in her lap for the phone on the nightstand, she navigates to the unheard voicemail from Dr. Michaels.

The one that’s sat there for three days now, Solana not feeling well enough to receive that answer.

But, not anymore.

It’s time.

Eyes closing for a second, her hand drops to her stomach as she finally hits the play button.

Almost instantly, a new, male voice fills the room.

“Hey Solana, it’s Dr. Michaels.” Her heartbeat is a mile a fucking minute, Solana having to take a deep breath to help herself calm down. “Got your test results back and looks like you and the Big Guy better start babyproofing that big ole’ house of yours.” And just like that, Solana smacks the pause button on the voicemail before doubling over, a sob leaving her mouth.

She knew it. Felt it. But, there’s something about hearing the confirmation. Knowing without a doubt that she’s pregnant that’s almost overwhelming. 

In the best possible way.

Sniffling, she smiles down and rubs her hand across her stomach.

She’s pregnant.

“Now, I don’t want to freak you out, but your hCG levels came back pretty high, which isn’t anything bad. At all. But, it can indicate a multiples pregnancy. Meaning you could be carrying twins, and if that’s the case……”

It’s difficult for Solana to continue to focus on the rest of his message, something about him reminding her that Dr. Sharmell is the go-to OB-GYN for Bloodline pregnancies, as well as a phone number she’d guess for this doctor. However, as appreciated as that is, it’s mostly in one ear and out the other, because all she can hone in on is one word.

Twins

Twins like the ones she’s had several, frequent, recurring dreams about over the past few months. Dropping her phone altogether, Solana places both hands on her stomach, somehow, someway already knowing that he’s right.

She is carrying twins.

Smiling, laughing faces that are the perfect combination of herself and Roman rushing to the front of her mind, deepening her smile, increasing her joy.

Her babies.

Overcome with happiness, Solana finds herself grabbing her current journal that was also sitting on the nightstand, trembling hands skipping to the end of the book that she’s damn near completed. Using the pen in the middle, Solana shares the news, officially, with the only person other than her husband who she would give anything to have to celebrate with right now.

Dear Mami,

I’m pregnant. 

With twins. 

I’m getting my happily ever after, after all.

Love,

Sol

She must reread it almost a dozen times, each reading widening her smile. It’s such a strange thing, how quickly emotions can oscillate. She’d traveled the feelings spectrum from one end to the other over the past week, but this stop…..this stop is one she’d be okay with staying at for a while. 

Solana grabs her phone again, fingers navigating to Roman’s contact. She’s not going to tell him. Not like this, but this avoidance game they’ve been playing needs to stop. A glance at the time as well as her pulling up the world clock reveals it’s almost midnight in Italy, but that doesn’t stop her from dialing the number regardless.

It’s time to talk to her husband.

Except, it’s not.

Because the phone goes straight to voicemail. 

Solana frowns. She can’t recall a time where Roman’s phone has ever been off. On Do Not Disturb, sure, but off?

Never.

Not since she’s been with him, at least.

The beeping on the other end alerts her to the fact that she can either leave a message or hang up. 

She decides on the former of the two options.

“Hey….” Clearing her throat, she does her best to keep her voice steady, a tricky task considering the life-changing news she’s sitting on. “I—I wanted to talk to you. I—I miss your voice. I miss you.” Swallowing, she smiles, wishing she could bask in this moment with him. “Call me back when you get a chance….I love you.”

Hanging up the phone, Solana scoffs, still slightly in a state of disbelief. Looking down at a still sleeping Dulce, a soft giggle leaves her mouth at thinking about how her fur baby is going to react to there being a real baby in the house.

Two.

Climbing off the bed, phone in one hand, Solana moves over to the dresser and grabs a change of clothes before heading to the attached master bathroom.

She’s done a lot of sulking while in her supposed happy place, engaged in a lot of avoidance behavior. 

No more.

She has a reason to smile, to be happy, to be excited. And she wants to lean into that.

Solana starts to make a mental list of things she wants to do before leaving in a couple days. The item at the top is to go see Paloma. She’s barely spoken to the older woman with kind eyes and a warm personality since first meeting her months prior.

It’s time to see her again. 

But, as much as she would like to focus on an agenda for the remainder of her trip, it’s difficult for her mind to not keep gravitating back toward the news.

To the thought of life growing inside her. 

Two lives formed from a beautiful though flawed love. Two individuals who have lost so much yet stand to gain so much more through the lives they’ve created together.

Solana knows Roman will be an amazing father. He’s been so good to her, so patient, so loving. Seeing that extended to their children just fills her with all of the butterflies.

They’ll definitely have to make some changes. She might have to cut back work hours. He could maybe work from home more, if that’s even a thing. No nanny. Roman probably wouldn’t trust anyone anyway.

And the guest room closest to them could easily be the shared nursery for both children. It only makes sense for the babies to be close to them, getting different, separate rooms as they get older.

Standing in the shower, continuing to go over any and all the details, there’s a small bit of sadness at not being able to share the news with her friends. She knows they’re all going to be so happy for her, and Solana knows they’ll plan the biggest, most elaborate baby shower that she’ll probably have to bribe Roman into attending.

All of it, even the maybe stressful things, keeps her smile on her face. 

It’s just been some time since she’s felt so happy. A well deserved thing following an almost week of anything but.

But, it’s as Solana steps out the shower, wraps the towel around her and checks her phone, her smile dims at her lock screen being littered with notifications.

1 missed call from Jey 

3 missed calls from Jimmy

4 unread texts from Jimmy

2 unread texts from Jey

And just like that, her stomach drops.

Something is wrong.

Given Jimmy is the one with the most outreach attempts, she bypasses reading any messages and just skips right to calling him.

Pacing across the bathroom, each ring on the other end feels like an eternity. Finally, he picks up. “Solana.”

“What’s wrong?” It’s blurted out, her desperation and fear loud and present. “What happened?”

A heavy sigh on the other end of the phone. “Solana…..”

“What happened, Jimmy!” She doesn’t mean to yell, but she does mean to stress that she needs this man to tell her just what the hell is going on.

Another pause. “Fetu took a turn for the worse.” Her heart stops. “She’s…..she’s probably not going to make it through the night.”

Of all the things to come out his mouth, Solana could have never guessed that would be it. She’s instantly in a brief state of shock. This can’t be……no, it can’t.

“What?” Is all she’s able to muster, leaning back against the counter, heart rate a mile a minute.

“I don’t….I don’t know all the details. Ava was too upset to talk, but—”

“Roman….” 

Jimmy blows out a deep breath. “He’s already on a plane here. He…..he was actually already on his way.” Solana’s frown deepens. “He wanted to surprise you.” And the knife just keeps twisting. “He knows and should land in a couple hours, but I don’t know if—”

“Don’t,” she cuts him off. Solana can’t even fathom the notion of what he’s about to say. It can’t…..no. “Don’t say it.”

“Solana….” She’s never heard Jimmy sound so despondent. “From the way Ava was talking, she doesn’t have a lot of t—”

“He’s gonna make it.” There is no other alternative. None that Solana can consider. At least, not in this state. Because she’s still trying to sit on the fact that Roman’s laughing, smiling, hoot of an aunt is now suddenly at death’s door. It doesn’t make any sense. They were supposed to go see her. Solana had already texted and talked with Ava about surprising Fetu with a visit when Roman returned. 

And now…..

“I’m on my way.”

She can practically picture Jimmy’s surprise. “Solana, I don’t—”

“I need you to meet me at the airport and take me there,” she continues. Because Solana has only been there once, she doesn’t know how to get to Fetu’s place. But, Jimmy does, and something tells her Roman will land back home before she does, and she doesn’t want him wasting a second waiting around for her so they can go together.

“Solana, you’ve never…..you’ve never been around Roman when he’s lost someone. I don’t—I don’t know if it’s a good idea for you—”

“I am not letting him deal with this alone,” she vows, anger replacing the fear. “Prepare the jet for me.”

“Solana—”

“I said I’m going!” She snaps. Solana is certain her shout bypasses the perimeter of the closed bathroom door, travels into her bedroom and permeates throughout the house. “If you don’t want to help me, that’s fine. I’ll find a way. I will fucking swim back home and walk my way there if that’s what it takes, because I am not letting him deal with this alone.” There’s absolute silence on the other end. “Now are you going to help me or not?”

Jimmy is quiet for a good minute before answering. “I’ll be there when you touch down.”

There’s a small slice of relief that fills her at his agreement, but it’s nothing to sit in given the weight of the situation. “I’ll see you then.” 

Hanging up the phone, Solana hurriedly applies her deodorant and slips on her bra and panties. Walking out the bathroom, she moves over to the dresser, pulling out some sweats and a shirt. Once her sneakers are on, she’s grabbing Dulce, apologizing for waking her up as she moves out the room and down the stairs.

She finds Bautista and Nia in the kitchen, not hesitating as she informs, “pack your stuff. We’re leaving.”

Their surprised, borderline confused expressions make all the sense, but it’s Nia who speaks up. “What do you mean we’re leaving?”

Solana ignores her, carrying Dulce to the backdoor and letting her out, keeping her eyes on her puppy as she finds the patch of grass to relieve herself. 

Nia, of course, refuses to let it go, pushing her at a time where Solana is already trying not to sink into panic. “Look, you have been an impulsive mess all week. Randomly making us fly out here and now you’re making us randomly fly back. What the he—”

“Would you shut up!” It’s similar to the way she snapped at Jimmy, but angrier. More personal. “I don’t answer to you, Nia. I said we’re leaving, so we’re fucking leaving!”

And at that moment, Dulce hurries herself back inside, Solana slamming and shutting the door as she storms past a bewildered Nia to go back upstairs and finish packing.

Shaking hands, quiet sniffles, and silent tears accompany her preparation. She tried to call Roman again, only for the phone to once again go to voicemail, further worrying her.

He’s been pushing her away all week, but this…..this feels different. 

He’s icing her out, and it hurts, but not for her. She hurts for him, because he was already in a not good place before leaving. And now this?

“Please don’t take her from him…..” Solana finds herself pleading, praying for the first time in a long time. “He can’t…..he can’t lose her.”

Because he can’t. 

Because Solana can’t even imagine what losing Fetu would do to Roman. She isn’t sure how he’d handle it. 

If he could handle it. 

Less than twenty minutes later, Solana and Co. are out of the house and on their way to the airport. Dulce, forever perceptive, remains in her lap, every so often licking her arm and whining, cuddling close to Solana.

To her stomach. 

It’s appreciated. 

Necessary.

Because Solana is a nervous, emotional wreck sitting on the jet, Bautista and Nia wisely keeping their distance, leaving her alone in the bedroom with Dulce close by her side.

Solana tries to call both Roman and Ava one last time before takeoff. Neither answers.

It’s not unexpected, but it does make that despair lingering in the pit of her stomach grow.

Makes Solana think back on the letter she has tucked and hidden away at home. Makes her reflect on that almost ominous interaction with his aunt. 

Fetu shakes her head, Solana looking down when she places a white, sealed envelope in her hand. “I need you to give this to him when the time is right.”

Those words now haunt her, cause her to wonder just what is contained within that letter. If….if it was intended for a time like this.

A time where she’s no longer around.

Solana shakes her head, a sob breaking through as she tries to gather herself. She’s an emotional mess, yes, pregnancy hormones probably not helping, but regardless, she can’t be.

She needs to be strong. 

For Roman.

It’s what she keeps telling herself, reminding herself of as she’s forced to utilize some of her coping skills to settle her anxiety. Because it’s not just her she has to think about anymore.

It’s her babies, too.

Solana is nearly running out the jet the minute it lands and they’re clear to exit. She leaves Dulce with Nia, instructing her to take her back home.

Nia doesn’t argue with this.

But, the minute she steps foot out of the jet, her feet on ground, her eyes locked with Jimmy who waits near a black SUV…..she knows.

She just knows.

Solana’s hand goes to her stomach. “No……” Jimmy’s eyes shut as he runs his hand over his face, unshed tears glistening once he reopens his eyes and looks over at her. “Please, no…..”

“Solana….” 

Her voice breaks. “Don’t say it.”

But, he does. He absolutely says it. “She’s gone, Solana.”

She knew it. Knew it the moment her eyes locked with his that are filled with such tremendous grief, holding a truth she’d give anything to be anything but. But, on top of the grief that now fills her body the same way it fills Jimmy, there’s an entirely different layer that nearly grounds her when that realization settles. 

“Roman.” She’s almost scared to ask, but she has to. She just has to. “Did he….”

And it’s the way Jimmy’s sadness deepens as he shakes his head no that Solana’s already wavering resolve crumbles, that she breaks down in front of her husband’s cousin. Jimmy moves over to her, letting her cry into him at the second horrifying realization bulldozes into her with the weight of solid concrete.

Roman didn’t make it in time.

He didn’t get to see Fetu before she passed.

He didn’t get to say goodbye.

[inkuinky]

it’s that day again. where they planned a serious, romantic date in once of every while. where Will’s workaholic ass would finally gave up to the love of his boyfriend and leave the infirmary in the hands of his siblings when it’s summer and where they would treat eachother like a serious couple they are in the hands of love.

at this point, Nico often can’t differentiate whether a date or casual hangout. because in these two-long-years-committing-relationship they have, Nico can’t even remember a day where they don’t stick on eachother and spending the time together.

until once, Nico decided to take him out. on a romantic serious one, the real-type rather than hanging out watching star wars (but if Nico’s being honest, anything they do, no matter if the star wars is replayed thousand times on the screen, Nico would always love the time they have.) just to make Will feel loved, to make Will feel that he’s something worth than just a cheap picnic beside the camp lake or small talk on the campfire.

they eventually take turns, knowing Will is the type to give, he often insisted on him taking Nico out instead. he’s not used to being pampered and getting things without anything in return. but he just want his beautiful, charming, amazing boyfriend to feel loved and worth adored. that Nico’s here won’t leave him nor he see Will as an abandonment and he will stay, just for him.

but even after said two years, for some reasons, the love never dies, it grows, more, like a tree with full grown and still growing. His Will gets more beautiful. in any way, in anything, clothes or none, he’s a beauty, the apple of Nico’s eyes.

Nico would hate to admit, but often he found himself dumbfounded from the starstruck. no matter in what condition, Will unfairly is always beautiful. it’s annoying how this man always managed to look stunning in the most unhinged situation.

a year ago, in the tartarus—fucking tartarus—Will managed to look amazing. sure, soggy ambrosia, but he still look beautiful nonetheless. don’t get Nico started on how Will glows as he fight and scream at Nyx. he glows mesmerizingly. he literally made him fall in love and head over heels for the William Andrew Solace in nurse scrubs and flip-flops! he even saw Will with only his shorts and bare chest, sun tattoo rest without guilt whatsoever on his pectoral and honestly? he’s breathtaking. if he in nurse scrubs and tired eyes are still beautiful in Nico’s eyes, how would clothes do to Nico? forget clothes, withou—

okay, okay, it’s getting wild.

Nico has finally arrived in front of Cabin 7, in his usual but nicer outfit from him; black skinny jeans, black chb tee and clean jacket with his stygian iron sword turned into chain accessory. he also wore cologne for better smell, wouldn’t want Will to smell the nervousness out of him as he fidgets on the bronze coin in his pocket. he look to the ground as he finds mythomagic card in his pocket with his other hand and revealing the hades and apollo cards. he keep his posture relaxed with his back from the cabin as he focuses his eye on other cabin.

it’s the edge of spring. a cold breeze waved as flowers and leaves grow. nymphs and satyrs are in good moods. two more weeks until campers start coming and filled the empty cabins.

Nico is pretty pleased with his life so far. a loving boyfriend, a home with a centaur and a drunk god supervisor and a pretty much stable life. this year he stayed with Will again. though he spent the winter in Texas with Will and met the Naomi Solace (let’s not mention his midnight whispers to Naomi about Will as his billy and how grateful Nico for Naomi’s son) and most of the fall annoying nymphs with their date.

“Nico! why don’t you come in instead?” said a sweetly familiar voice from Nico’s back. “I just want to wait for you, you know? you ready yet?” Nico smiled, but wouldn’t turned his head. suddenly dandelions and sunflowers are catching his eyes rather than Will, not that Will’s not interesting, it’s just… complicated.

Will always made him feel new things, new stuff,as if he’s a brand new activator that would made his heart flutter in the directions he didn’t know he could do.

today’s date is simple, actually; going to this bowling diner Will has been yapping about, hits the arcade and do a little dancing together, maybe a little wine tasting if Will want to, a little walk together—if Will’s tired, he can ask Jules-Albert to take a porsche—as they yap together about new facts and life possibilities.

but knowing Will’s giving nature, he would try. he would try with beautiful, ecstatic outfits. Nico often became frustrated with this fact, because with Will’s freckles-ed, tan skin; bushy, dirty blonde hair; those blue eyes Nico can bore and swim forever inside and would never want get out from; those eye-blinding smile with teeth and the sound of his laughter? is like oxygen for Nico. how could Will Solace ever be not beautiful for Nico Di Angelo? never. never will.

“Nico? to the earth?” Will’s soft voice shook Nico out from his shadows. “yes, zuchero?”

I asked you, do I look good?”

“stunning, beautiful, handsome.”

he can feel Will’s annoyed attitude pouting on him. “you don’t even turn around? Nico, you’re being weird.” “no seriously- Will, you’re amazing I-“ “Look at me.” Nico turn back and gods, his mind went blank.

to naked eyes, Will’s the same. the same bushy blonde hair and blue eyes, even the same design of green cargo shorts, only this time he’s wearing white cropped tee — revealing Will’s soft stomach with piercing, of course, Nico’s definitely not looking in that direction, haha! Will’s eyes is up there, not on his upper-down line, Nico — with long sleeves of yellow. this time, instead of flip-flops, Will wore his yellow sunflower-daisy converse—matching with Nico’s black hyacinthus’ . they got it custom embroidered to match eachother via Cabin 19’s favor of embroidery.

“is it bad? it’s bad isn’t it? okay, I’m changing.” Will mumbled with reddening face and eyes on shame. “no- nononononononono— don’t- don’t- gods, you’re- I- I just-“ Nico rushed to hold Will’s hand and clasp them together as he stare into eye contact with Will. “hello, there. “ Will’s smug eyes are there while his pink lips whispered. “beautiful- I- uh, let’s get out now?” Will then burst out a laugh. a loud lough as he let go of the hands and crouched.

“Nico, if you keep having that beat of heart, you’ll get arrhythmia. ” Will’s teary eyes from the laughing actually made Nico’s heart stopped a beat. the voice of laugh itself made Nico’s stomach fluttered in skeletal butterflies. what kind of witchcraft is he doing to Nico?

“okay okay, let’s go shall we?” Will Solace smirks at him as he straighten his posture and take a hold of Nico’s right hand with his left hand. the evening sunlight shines to Will, golden hour giving majestic and divine aesthetic. his freckles are like constellations Nico wouldn’t mind counting for hours, days, years. and his ocean blue eyes isn’t helping either knowing it is crystal clear underneath the light, showing the beautiful iris and trap Nico inside.

sure, Nico haven’t gotten that much of growth spurt which makes Will Solace is still 4 cm taller than him, but it makes everything more painful for Nico because he knew he couldn’t get his eyes away. not from Will he can’t, he’s just a man. a human. but when it comes to Will, it’s like worshipping. as if there’s some kind of divine intervention makes Nico couldn’t get over his man’s beauty and Nico Di Angelo, the ghost king, the Prince of the Underworld has never want to kneel before anybody willingly except for Will Solace.

suddenly, he felt a soft lips upon his. tasted like saccharine and addictingly sweet to Nico’s taste. he craves more. he wants to feel that softness and save it all for himself. he wants the world to know how in love Will can make him. as a weak man (only to Will), Nico can only return the kiss, which makes Nico’s inner intestines ruined and mushed like soup. he swear his heart beating like crazy as ifhe just run Olympic running track after they let go of the kiss.

“you can’t stop staring, so I had to bring you down back to earth” Will’s pretty face now only a breath away as his nose brushed his. “come on, let’s shadow travel” said Nico nervously

can’t guarantee if he won’t die young with these arrhythmia whenever he’s around Will. god forbid.

—————————

HC credit; @coirinthyurilo

(hi hello yeah here you go ily)

[artinventor]

I feel like Dean and Cas heal each other in many ways but their flaws also sync together. The way they care about each other makes these flaws affect them more prominently.

Dean has abandonment issues, while also being someone who pushes people away. While Cas is one that needs to be told to stay, he wants to be needed. And they both have crippling self hatred that causes these things.

I feel like within seasons 5-6, after Cas rebelled for Dean, the way their relationship built up was Cas always being there for him, they built a connection in being what the other needed. After Cas died in season 7, he was another person gone from dean’s life, and that absence really made Dean think about how important their relationship was to him since he fought soooooo hard to get Cas out of purgatory after he came back.

Dean has a problem of putting the weight of the world on himself, we see this take focus in his purgatory arc of how he blamed himself for Cas not making it out when Cas purposely stayed behind because he felt too guilty about betraying dean and everything he did as god. They were just having a self-loathing contest there and both problems related to the other in some way so it just negatively affected them both.

Directly after they talk about purgatory, Cas has the mind control problems with Naomi, takes the angel tablet and hides away from everyone, even Dean. I think Cas tries to combat Dean’s responsibilities by taking them on alone, but it ends up backfiring and Dean ends up pissed that Cas didn’t go to him for help. This also happened in season 6 when he was at war with Raphael, Cas turned to Crowley instead of asking Dean for help, because he didn’t want to disrupt his peace in retirement. Cas just wants to take the weight off dean’s shoulders, and even when he’s pissed I think Dean knows this, because he’s forgiven Cas both times. As soon as he comes back in season 7 and regained his memory, he hadn’t even done anything yet to try to redeem himself and dean was already defending him when he expressed his guilt.

I don’t think dean even realizes why he keeps forgiving him, there’s a part when Cas comes back after losing the tablet and dean tears into him about not trusting him to take care of it, he tells sam that if anyone else had done what cas did he’d stab them in the neck so why should he give him a pass and sam says “because it’s cas”

Their flaws go in this cycle that ultimately hurts them when they face really hard situations, but they never stop caring for each other and I’m sure there will be more angst with them as I continue watching the show

[melancholymetropolis]

Exchange pt. II

plot: In which Gojo makes a late night phone call to his wife.

pairings: Clan Leader!Gojo Saturo x Lawyer!Reader

genre(s): Second Chance; Hurt with Comfort

warnings: unedited (mostly). This is the fluffiest fluff I have written in the while. TEASING. Gojo is a comedian. SWEARING. use of AAVE (y/n is black as hell. wears a bonnet and everything). longing. Argument (no name calling). RAISED VOICES. sad boi gojo. guilty reader. get ready for the feels.

song association: Don't by Bryson Tiller

a/n: ya girl has some good news!

w.c: 3.0k

part(s): Part I

Upon shutting off the apartment’s showerhead, I could hear my phone buzzing in the distance. I wrapped my towel around my body and took swift strides back to the bedroom. Lifting my glasses off my nightstand, I placed them on my face before picking up the device. Instead of it being a friend from overseas, not understanding the time difference, it was an idiot who understood it very well. 

Gojo: pssss

Gojo: wifey. . .

Gojo: are you up??????

Y/N: It’s almost midnight. What could you possibly want?

Several moments after the message was sent, the phone started to ring. 

Gojo was calling.

I rolled my eyes at the sentiment. Ever since our lunch several days before, the taller gentleman was borderline clingy. He texted me at any free moment of the day, asking me what I was doing and when I was free for our next hangout session. I’d always blow him off. Telling him I had a prior engagement with someone else. I would say that the bride needed me to help her with Honeymoon stuff or the Maid of Honor misplaced her work and I needed to help her look for it. I would use any and every excuse in order to avoid speaking to him for longer than I needed to. It was clear that Gojo intended to make up for lost time while I was in Japan. He took his proposal to hang out very seriously and wanted me to fulfill my end of the bargain. Part of me almost felt bad from blowing him. Gojo was mostly harmless in his delivery and didn’t pose any real threat to my lifestyle. He seemed to be very forgiving with my excuses and never pressed me for blowing him off. The only thing he ever did was send almost a dozen crying emojis and claim I was abandoning our child. Apparently we were having a little girl, which he named her Naomi. 

Even though the white haired man was beyond ridiculous, he never failed to make me laugh.

I reached toward the nightstand for my wireless earbuds and connected them to the device. I placed one in my right ear and accepted the call. 

“Sweetheart!!!” Gojo whined on the other line. “What took you so long to answer the phone? I could’ve died on the other line!”

“But are you dead?” I replied, rising from my seat on the bed.

“That’s not the point!” He exclaimed. “And besides, what are you doing right now anyway?”

I walked over to the vanity mirror and lifted my leg on the low bench. I twisted the lid from the cocoa butter and scooped some in my hands. “Well, I just got out of the shower and have started my skincare routine. Why?” I warmed the cream between my palms and started to glide it down my leg.

“How do you feel about going on a food run?”

“Right now?” I scooped more product into my palm.

“Yup!”

I switched legs and massaged the butter into my skin. The guilt of blowing him off was eating away at my being. Gojo seemed to be making a genuine effort to get to know me and I was shutting him off. I was never usually the person to deny someone’s efforts and often cheered for a job done well. As much as I wanted to treat him like everyone else, I realized I couldn’t; because he wasn’t like anyone else. He was my husband, at least on paper. From what I could tell, he was pretty kind and patient with me, despite his idiotic tendencies. Those feelings from Vegas started to reappear once again. They always came back harder the longer I shoved them down. 

I started to rub the butter on my arms. “Let me guess, you’re having pregnancy cravings? Want me to buy you some pickles and ice cream?”

“I was thinking more along the lines of katsu sandos,” he admitted with a chuckle. “But ice cream sounds nice. Hold the pickles.”

I shook my head with a smile. “Okay, pregnant lady. If I do this, you better not expect anything from me to get dressed up for you. It’s too late for that.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“You are getting yoga pants and a goddamned sweatshirt. Better be lucky I am not wearing my bonnet outside.”

“Damn, you aren’t?” He pretended to sound shocked. “Now I gotta take mine off and fix my baby hairs.”

Explosive laughter erupted from my being and I felt myself hold onto the vanity to steady myself. “Gojo, what the hell do you know about baby hairs?”

“I know enough,” he conceded. “I am trying to do all my research now, so Naomi can have all the flyest hairstyles on the playground.”

“Gojo, get the hell off my phone with this mess,” I giggled. “You are too much.”

“I am just enough for you, baby. Don’t you forget it.”

I rolled my eyes and shook my head. “I’ll text you the address to my apartment. Hurry your ass up before I change my mind.”

“Okay. Love you, boo!”

“Imma beat your ass.”

My eyes flickered to Gojo’s right hand. It rested on the arm rest between us and started to flex repeatedly. The silence between us was comfortable. It cuddled against our awkward bodies and almost became a second skin. This was the first time we were truly alone together in the past six months. There were no waiters asking for our order or any wandering eyes gazing upon us from the wedding party. It was simply just him and I; in a car, driving to god knows where, in the middle of the night. There was so much that could be said in that moment. So much I wanted to say, but I couldn’t bring myself to. I wasn’t ready and I had the feeling he felt the same way. It was easy to mask emotions in a crowd. It was easy to tell a joke to break tension and get a laugh out of company. Yet, it was extremely hard to be open with anyone you deemed dear. His eyes flickered over to me with such longing it made my heart ache. Those feelings from Vegas were flickering up once again and I tried to ignore them. 

“I didn’t know you wore glasses,” he said with a smirk. “You look like a completely different person.”

I nervously readjusted the thick frames on my face. “In a good way or a bad way?”

“In a sexy way,” he answered, earning a scuff out of me. “I feel like this would be a bad time to mention I have a glasses kink.”

Laughter bubbled out of me and I found myself shaking my head. “You are unbelievable.”

“I am being so serious right now. Those glasses are doing things to me,” his eyes flickered over to me. “You are seducing with those thick frames and I am trying my best to behave.”

“Oh god, please stop,” I giggled. “How can I be seducing you in some leggings and a sweatshirt?”

“Baby, you could be wearing a plastic bag and I would rip that thing off with my teeth,” he replied with a wide smile. “You are gorgeous, sweetheart, and I will remind you of that every chance I get.”

My eyes flickered down to his lone right hand on the arm rest. The palm was soft pink and wide. There were callouses across pads of the fingers, almost like he played some sort of stringed instrument. Before I could stop myself, I felt my hand fall into his grasp. Electric sparks pulsed through my body as we touched. His grip on my hand tightened and his thumb rubbed against my knuckles. He pulled my hand gently to his lips and gave my fingers a kiss. A sweet smile fell on my lips at the embrace. My mind easing to a calm that wasn't there before. 

Unlike any other union I had prior, Gojo didn't give me butterflies or bring a blush to my cheeks. He gave me a sense of ease that no one else had presented. In all my other relationships before him, platonic or romantic, someone had always wanted something from me. I had to fit a mold to solidify our relationship. I had to be the perfect daughter for my parents. The unpaid therapist for my friends. The forgiving partner to my ex lover. The cut throat divorce lawyer. I always had to fulfill a label and my personhood was seen as a performance to them. I was never simply Y/N. I could never truly exist amongst them. 

That had been before I met Gojo.

He seemed to like me as I am. Actually, he encouraged me to authentically express myself. He didn't take it personally when I snapped at him. He was offended when I was coarse with him at the wedding, he simply adjusted his approach. Instead of being so direct, he became playful. Non-threatening. He was slowly making me feel comfortable around him. Easing the thick tension between us. The fear that I originally felt in the beginning had clouded my judgment. I couldn’t think clearly. 

Sure, being married to a stranger is scary. There is a lot that could go wrong. However, if all had gone right in Vegas, and if we didn't live in two completely different countries, we'd probably be dating already. Gojo would have most likely met my friends. Spent a night at my condo. Made me breakfast the night after our sleepover. He probably would have invited me to his place the next weekend. 

We'd already been 6 months in a sickly sweet relationship. 

Would I have loved him by now?

“What's that look?” His husky voice cut through my thoughts like a knife. “I don't like that look. What's wrong, sweetheart?”

“Nothing, I just…” I trailed off, turning away from his gaze. “Just thinking is all.”

He hummed, unamused, and squeezed my hand again. “You don’t have to hide your thoughts from me, Y/N. I am a big boy, I can handle the heat.” Gojo kissed my fingers again. “And besides, in order to get through it, we have to talk about it.”

A shaky sigh slipped from my lips and I wiggled my hand from his grasp. I wrapped both arms around myself and turned my body away from him. My eyes quirked at the twinkling street lights and billboards of Osaka. My skin was bathed in a crimson light that directly reflected the internal wound that bled into my foul mood. There was a war happening within my head and I could barely present him with the cause of it. At least, not the true cause. There were so many things that I wanted to say, secrets that I wanted to tell him. However, I knew it was too soon. He was still a stranger. A man that I met a little more than a few times in the last couple of months. A friend of a friend— an acquaintance. It would be too easy for him to leave me if he knew the truth. The whole truth. It was the thing that made me leave my hometown and start over. The thing that made me cut my parents off and change my name. The thing that I shoved so far down that I ripped me apart when it reopened. 

The car came to an eased halt and pulled into an empty space in front of the restaurant. The open sign was flickering on and off, a marketing ploy. It wanted to draw people in to observe its beautiful open concept kitchen and glorious display of fresh ingredients. The tactic must’ve been a successful one, since the place was nearly packed at half past midnight. By the smile on their faces, I know the passengers were more than happy with their purchase. It made me want to try it.

A warm hand gripped my knee and gave it a firm squeeze. I felt my body tense from the pressure. I slowly turned to face the car’s driver. There was a noticeable frown situated on his face and a terrible look of worry situated between his brows. My silence had not made him happy. Not one bit.

His hand slipped into mine and he brought his knuckles to mouth for a kiss. 

“Whatever you need to say or ask, I am right here,” he said quietly. “I will remain here for as long as you need me to be. You’ll always have my support.”

His bright blue eyes were poured into me; like hot water in a teacup. He was moments away from drinking me in. 

A releasing a trembling sigh, I finally asked the question that had been on my mind since our lunch date.

“Why do you want me to remain your wife if our marriage was a mistake?”

At that moment, I watched his eyes dim. Their bright, exhilarating, electric blue faded to a gloomy navy that shook me to my core. Pain contorted his features into an expression I didn’t recognize. He had never expected those words to come out of mouth. Not after all the time we spent together. Not after the pact we made to at least “hang out”. Not after I made the first step to ignite an embrace just moments before. Reaching out for his hand had broken the stalemate between us. We were no longer adults navigating unknown territory, who were scared of the word “marriage”. It symbolized the potential for something else. It made room for something new to blossom between us. The beginnings of a new love story were on the horizon, at least before I called our union a “mistake”. 

The painful look was still on his face when he spoke moments later. 

“Our marriage is not a mistake,” he said just above a whisper. “Accidental, yes. It is no mistake.”

I waited a moment for him to explain.

“Mistake insinuates regret for said action; whereas an accident is an unlikely outcome. It has far less of a negative connotation than a goddamn “mistake”.”

He spat out the word like it was poison. His voice gradually rose with each word until it reached its normal volume. The pain on his face had shifted to a soft look of anger. He looked insulted that I would even use that word to describe our union. Utterly appalled that I would think he’d regret our marriage. 

“I just. . .” He cut himself off, ripping his gaze from my face. “Do you really think I would want to hang out with you if I thought this marriage was a mistake?”

“Well. . . no”

“Do you think I'm some conservative wannabe that frowns upon divorce?” His eyes fell back on me, anger causing his brows to lower. “That I am trying to trap you and keep you hidden away from prying eyes?”

“Of course not!” I conceded. 

“Then, what is it?” He snapped. “Because I’m really trying here. I get that this situation is not ideal for you, but I am trying my best to make it work, Y/N. It just seems like you don’t even care about me or what we had during that weekend in Vegas. You are so ready to give it up and leave everything behind. Leave me behind. Like everyone else.”

The last three words were quieter than a whisper. Somber and true. It made my heart ache and my mind buzz with worry. The little pieces that Gojo Saturo fed me about his life started to all make sense. He was the only child and the first in his whole generation to achieve a very specific goal. Power. What that power was— I had no idea. He didn’t go into detail, but I knew it was something he wore with pride. However, I knew that he wore it with regret as well. There was a weight on his shoulders that only he could carry. It seemed as though he was carrying the responsibilities of his whole family with him everywhere he went. He never had a break with his duties; they consumed his every waking moment. It made it hard for him to mingle, to date, to llsimply exist without a group of people breathing down his neck. The relationships he had made outside of his family never lasted, from what I could gather from his last sentiment. They stole too much of his attention for him to create anything meaningful with them. Just like a flower lacking water, the relationships would wither and eventually die; which left Saturo back at square one. Alone. Miserable. Unhappy.

A deep sigh erupted from his being as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that. That was not okay and completely unlcalled for. Please forgive me, sweetheart.”

Without much of second thought, I found myself unbuckling my seatbelt and leaning toward him in my seat. My long arms encased around his slumped form and held him tightly. I felt his body immediately tense underneath my embrace. His limbs were stiff and unmoving, while his breath remained caught in his throat. He was not breathing. I squeezed him even tighter, forcing him to take a deep breath from the constraint. His body melted in my arms moments later. He pivoted his body towards the passenger seat and wiggled his arms from his side. Gojo raised the muscular limbs and engulfed me in what I could only describe as a bear hung. He held me as though I were meant to disappear at any given moment. As if someone would steal me away from this. From him. At that moment, I felt like I meant everything to him. As if I were his entire world. It made my soul weep. 

A series of buzzing erupted from the glove compartment. A message flashed on the car's dashboard:

Order: 2333

Ready for pick up! Come to the takeout window with this text message.

"Your phone is buzzing," I said, lowering my head back to his shoulder.

He hummed in response.

"Our order is ready."

Gojo's arms wrapped around me tighter. "Can we. . . Can we stay like this? Just a little bit longer?"

I felt my body melt into his touch. "Of course."

-------

a/n: ya bitch got into grad school! which is why i haven't been posting!!! trying to figure out the financial aid situation, but it looks like we are going back to school in the fall! also, please please please tell me if you are feeling this series. i have another one in mind, but i am on the fence. also, let me know if you would like to be on the official taglist for this series!

-------

TAGLIST

@amajikisupremacy @sweetdreams-inumimi @reagan707 @wannabeotaku @hazzelle-kento @rav3nmuse

[cigarettesaftersae]

i'll like you - 08 seven minutes in heaven

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Series: reo mikage x f!reader | contains : fluff, angst, jealousy, academic rivals, fake dating

masterlist

WN: emotional talk, friendship lost, no smut (ik the title is supposed to be freaky but no freak)

(erm about 5k words but nothing too serious:p)

Naomi stumbled upon Yuna’s desk the moment the bell rang, her usual nosy, insufferable self on full display. Gorgeous, smart, kind, and, of course, rich—yet somehow, she managed to be as obvious as ever.

“So… Yuna,” she drawled, tilting her head with feigned innocence. “Did Y/N like Reo?”

Yuna barely blinked. “No. Do you like him?”

Naomi let out a breathy, nervous chuckle. “Heh, well…” The girls around them giggled, feet shuffling in anticipation. Everyone knew what was coming next.

“I mean, we practically grew up together and everything,” she continued, voice laced with a sickly sweetness. “But I… I guess I can’t really like him anymore since he has a girlfriend, right?”

Yuna resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Maybe if Naomi got bangs, she’d be a perfect Lila Rossi knockoff.

“I was just curious,” Naomi added, feigning nonchalance. “I didn’t know Y/N had a thing for him at all. It’s so… sudden.”

A dramatic sigh escaped her lips, poisoning the air with artificial sorrow. “I just thought Reo and I had something special,” she murmured, voice trembling just enough to sell the act.

Right on cue, the girls around her swarmed with words of comfort, clinging to her faux distress. Yuna, however, kept her hands to herself.

She knew.

She knew Naomi’s perfect-girl act, her fake sweetness, the way she wove a flawless love story with Reo like it was destiny. She also knew that Naomi was planning something—something that involved you.

Yet, here she was. Being her ‘friend.’

It wasn’t like her at all. But then again, lately, nothing felt real. Not Naomi. Not Reo. Not herself,

not even you. Everything was a lie.

He’s frying your brain, you figured that he was a yapper and such but WOW did you not expect this. Maybe if you just close your eyes—

“Y/n! Are you trying to sleep? I’m still talking to you.”

“Yeah, no, you’re sending extra epic echolocation straight into my ears,” you grumble.

Reo only grins, completely unfazed. “Do you have a favorite chocolate? Or did you like the ones I got you last time? Are you allergic to anything?”

“Peanut butter.”

“Wait—really?”

“I don’t know.”

His brows furrow. “What do you mean you don’t know?”

You groan, turning to the only person who might save you. “Nagi, take your boyfriend or something.”

“eh?…I thought he was your boyfriend,” Nagi mumbles, barely looking up from his phone.

Reo huffs, undeterred. “Come on, why won’t you tell me anything?”

“Because if I do, you’ll buy some overpriced $1000 junk like you did for me and my mom earlier. No more questions, I already answered enough.” You drop your head back down, finally able to close your eyes for a whole second—

“Do you have a favorite animal?”

“Reo.”

“My love, you’re hurting me.” Reo pouts, acting heartbroken

Lifting your head, you meet his gaze, his violet eyes gleaming with curiosity. “What if I get to know more about you instead?”

Reo grins. “Alright. I play the guitar, I play soccer, I speak multiple languages, and—”

“I meant know you. Not the version you project to everyone else.” Your voice lowers slightly. “I hated that version of you anyway.”

He raises a brow, amused. “So… are you saying you don’t hate me anymore?”

“I didn’t say that, Barney.”

An offended scoff escapes Reo’s lips as he clutches his chest dramatically. “Why do you keep calling me that?”

“Look at you, purple head.” You gesture vaguely at his hair, but the longer you stare at him, the more a strange guilt settles in your chest. It creeps in like thorns growing on the stem of a ripe red rose—unseen at first, but impossible to ignore.

A sigh escapes your lips before you ask, softer this time, “What do you actually like? Not what you show off to others���what do you really like? Or hate? Your friends? Your favorite flowers?”

Reo pauses, tilting his head in thought. Seconds tick by. Thirty. Forty. A whole minute.

Finally, he exhales, a small frown tugging at his lips. “…I don’t know.”

You blink, caught off guard by the quiet admission. But you get it. His whole life has been a performance, shaped by expectations, by a lie he never really chose.

“Well,” you murmur, leaning forward just a bit. “Don’t you like soccer? Tell me about it.”

“Here, first edition by way.” Reo’s delicate hands extend a book toward you. One that you’ve been dying to read but never could find it but there it was. Just another item placed around in the 50,000 book—or maybe more, library in the Mikage house— or whatever that building was. How is that a house?

You hesitantly take hold of the book, you’re still spellbound to see it in person, right in front of your two eyes. A star so bright, and full of glitter yet this time it wasn’t out of your hand’s reach. “Is this the only thing you got me?”

“Did you want more?” Reo’s eye light up

“No. You better not have gotten more.”

The hand tucked behind his back slowly reaches out to expose a small keychain and before he could open his mouth in protest you stop him, “ah- no. Why did you even get that?”

“I just..saw it at the store and it reminded me of you.”

“I told you to stop spending things for me, this relationship isn’t even…real” You say softly, avoiding your gaze as you rub the back of your neck

“Well, yes. But our friendship isn’t right?”

It takes a good moment before youre able to gaze into his eyes and respond “It isn’t”

“Oh— and uh dinner with my parents this Friday.” His subject change wasn’t the thing that surprised, it was the fact that it was tomorrow!

“What— wait you didn’t tell me it was this week, I thought we started the Friday dinners next week!”

A chuckle. Just a nervous childish chuckle paired with a cute smile was all you received from Reo as he shy's away. He knew this would make you angry, you weren’t exactly ready to meet one of the richest families on Earth. “Well… They actually found out before I could tell them and then they just arranged to meet you Friday— or tomorrow I guess”

“Reo! I don’t even know what to wear! Have you seen my wardrobe? It’s not Mikage fancy like”

“I like your wardrobe” His happy little smile paved the way through your stress

“But Reo-” His hand softly brushes through yours in reassurance.

“Y/n, I already arranged everything for you. I’ll pick you up at 6 after school, and if you want I’ll pick something out for you to wear. You just need to sit and look pretty and eat. I’m sure the look pretty part is easy for you though.”

The last sigh allowed you to finally breathe normally, stress out the window as Reo continue to rub the sides of your shoulders and soft knuckles. His touch ever so hazy, a kiss of gentle, and melodic “I have practice today so…” Reo stopped mid-thought, gaze lingered, unreadable. He wanted to kiss your cheek a nice goodbye before heading off but he stilled. “I’ll see you tomorrow” His figure began to fade.

As Reo left, there was no point in staying at school any longer. With a sigh, you picked up your feet and headed toward the gates. The sun dimmed down, hueing it’s lucent colors on your radiant skin. Warm, you felt. Just from the touch of it’s lingering kiss, a gift from the Sun was like a gift from Reo. But the moment passed to soon, now it seemed like the dark night had conquered the sky but it didn’t. It was just Yuna.

She looked at you for moment till she started walking, speeding up to avoid you at all cost. “Wait—” it slipped out of your mouth, you’re desprate, hungry, starving—don’t leave. please

She stopped in her tracks the moment she heard your voice, her head turning back to look at you, but her eyes didn’t carry the same look she use to give you.

“I never really liked Nagi…” You try to reason, you could even break down on your knees, bruise it as it may— please, please forgive me.

“Ok..” The shatter on your heart couldn’t get any worse, you knew how angry she was. But did she know how miserable you are. How wretched of the nothing you are without her?

“Yuna—”

“Why are you dating him? Reo. You barely even talked to him, and Naomi and him are soon to be lovers one day.”

“He’s…gracious and caring”

“Is that just another labyrinth lie”

“What— no no it isn’t”

“You’re all a bunch of liars.” Naomi and her personality? Fake. Your and Reo’s relationship, a facade. Her head look down at her feet, avoiding your heavyhearted gaze. One look into your eyes and she’ll give in.

“I don’t want to talk you anymore” And with that, makes Yuna the biggest liar. She loved to talk to you right now. About how she’s having trouble understanding the math assignment, or the new boy on the streets, the spider she saw in the shower, the haircut she’s been wanting to get, but mostly just talk to you. Be with you. But her body takes control of it’s own and wanders away from the very one she die for.

Arriving home after that was nothing more than depressing, all this time you thought Yuna was avoiding you but it hit you the moment you saw her. You were the one avoiding everything, using Reo as a way to function with Yuna gone, pretending like there weren’t nasty gossip about you and Reo and now you have to meet your fake-boyfriend’s parents. Your life is a mess. You wipe away the small tear dripping down your cheek once you heard the door creak open, your mom entered. Gently setting herself next to you. “Is something wrong?”

“No…well…yeah?”

“Is it about your boyfriend? Is he treating you wrong”

You softly chuckle, her motherly humor filling the room’s warmth. Engulfing you with love

“Kinda. Tomorrow I have to go to dinner with his parents.”

“Oh…yeah… I wanted to talk to you about that.” Your mother grew in a deep breath. “I know that the choices I did in my past wasn’t…necessarily good and it can effect you gravely, but never let anyone talk you down on that. You are the greatest gift I can have.” She kiss you on the head, her hand wraps around yours “He must really like you if he’s willing to face the consequences. You know, when I went to school with his parents, they were such bitches.”

“Mom!”

“I know, I know—one dollar in the cussing jar.” She waves a hand dismissively. “But I meant it. If there’s anything bothering you, you’d tell me, right?”

You nod, offering a small smile as she leaves the room.

But the truth is—he wasn’t the problem at all. If anything, he was the reason you were still here, still happy. The weight in your chest wasn’t because of him. It was because of her.

Yuna.

The mess you made, the way things fell apart between you two—it haunted you. How could you ever forgive yourself for what happened? For the hurt you caused?

After she left, it was like the world lost its color. You spent a week drowning in your own thoughts, sinking deeper into something you couldn’t quite escape. The sky stayed gray no matter how many times you looked up, hoping for a change.

But then, when you lifted your head again, it wasn’t Yuna standing there.

It was Reo.

And for the first time in a long while, the sky didn’t seem so gray.

The next morning you’re greeted with a limo, again. Reo exits the car to say hi, but his great smile was already good enough to fill you with warmth. He almost looked like Yuna in a slight moment. “Y/n! Good morning.” He moves to the side to let you in first but quickly stops you, “Are you sure you can come to school, you look sick.” He starts to worry, hands feeling your forehead for any high temperatures, he’s looking around you if any bones or muscles are sore, or if you’re limping. “It’s okay, I’m not sick.” You reassure him, a small laughter leaves your lips as you see him worried so quickly

”Your eyes are really swollen, are you sure?’ He leaned in more close, more worried. His breath making whole contact on the hair on your skin.

“Uh— yeah you know I just got makeup in my eye so…” You try to excuse yourself and look away, rubbing the back of your neck.

“…Were you crying? Was it because of me? If you don’t want to see my parents today I’ll tell them no.”

“No it’s not that… um lets just get in the car and head to school first.” Before you could slip into the limo, his hand lands on your shoulder

“You can tell me if anything is wrong, you’re my friend y/n”

You sigh with a soft smile “Stop worrying and let’s go. We’re gonna be late”

“Late— Oh shoot we need to hurry!”

“You go ahead Nagi, we’ll meet you.” Unhurried, Reo insists his other duo to go first which was quite obvious to you what his intentions was. His heel quickly turns to face you fully, still carrying that angelic smile. “Soo…” He started off slowly, building, rhyming into your ease, not wanting to make you feel uncomfortable. “Are you sure you’re okay?” You both start walking towards the school, students in their uniforms, some messy, some neat, some— are something, pass by as you walk with your ‘boyfriend’ and to your measure girls and boys gather around to admire Reo Mikage and the flowers that following behind him as he walks. “Yeah…—well, I don’t know maybe.” Your breath hitched just for a second before saying her name, it felt impossible to say. It felt like you didn’t deserve to say her name for how horrible you were to her. You did lie to her, and you still are by playing around with the Mikage boy. “I spoke to Yuna yesterday.” Your voice steady, soft, and low. Eyes on the ground, avoidant on everything around you even the pink petals following on your shoulders and the thins between your hair. You couldn’t see but Reo’s attention shifted all upon you, and only you.

“Oh…” Reo softly caresses the side of your shoulder “I know it seems hard…I mean you’re going to meet my parents today, and you’re arguing with Yuna, but you’re never alone. You have your mom, whose nice and always seems like the type to fight for you. And you have….me. So cry or don’t cry, whatever happens from now on. I’m here.” You crane your neck up, embracing all the details of his beauty. He looked more dreamy up close. The soft pads of his thumb caress your dumpling cheek, wiping away your tear. You start to tear up even more, your nose speeding it’s way to breathe. Reo starts to panic, his eyes widen in fear Did I say something wrong?!—Was I too insensitive? Gah, I’m so stupid!

“Y—y/n! Is—is it because of me? I’m so stupid, I’m so sorry—” He quickly hugs you, comforting your head in his chest as you sob. His hand swaying back and forth in the locks of your hair. His touch smooth and caring. His other arm wrapped around you, feeling evermore secure then ever. “I’m sorry…”

Oh, and let’s not forget the crowd. Yeah, they’re still here—watching, wide-eyed, as you and Reo share what might just be the most intimate moment of your life. Their gasps are barely audible, breaths hitched in awe, eyes locked onto the quiet intimacy unfolding in the middle of the field. The world around you feels like it’s slowing down, wrapped in the warmth of his touch, his words, him. And yet, the weight in your chest lingers.

The longest seven minutes of your life. That’s how it felt—wrapped in Reo’s warm embrace, his hand smoothing over your hair as if trying to silence every unspoken fear inside you. Your breath steadies, the tear-stained ache in your chest easing, and yet… he doesn’t let go. Even with the crowd long gone, leaving only the two of you beneath the gentle breeze of the afternoon, he still holds you. "Reo…” Your voice is quiet, but it’s enough to make him straighten, body instantly attentive, as if ready to spring into action at your every word. You hear the nervous gulp in his throat. "Yes?" His response is soft, cautious. You take a breath. "Thank you. Sorry I’ve been a whole mess lately." Reo scoffs playfully, his grip around you not loosening. "It’s no problem," he mumbles, barely above a whisper, like he’s scared his words might make you crumble again. For a moment, there’s only silence—comfortable, but filled with something else. Something unspoken. Then, Reo gently pulls back just enough to see your face, he brushes your hair out of your face and gazes at you a little too long. “Reo” You say softly again

“Hmm?”

“I think the bell rang already”

WN: emotional talk, friendship lost, no smut (ik the title is supposed to be freaky but no freak)

Naomi stumbled upon Yuna’s desk the moment the bell rang, her usual nosy, insufferable self on full display. Gorgeous, smart, kind, and, of course, rich—yet somehow, she managed to be as obvious as ever.

“So… Yuna,” she drawled, tilting her head with feigned innocence. “Did Y/N like Reo?”

Yuna barely blinked. “No. Do you like him?”

Naomi let out a breathy, nervous chuckle. “Heh, well…” The girls around them giggled, feet shuffling in anticipation. Everyone knew what was coming next.

“I mean, we practically grew up together and everything,” she continued, voice laced with a sickly sweetness. “But I… I guess I can’t really like him anymore since he has a girlfriend, right?”

Yuna resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Maybe if Naomi got bangs, she’d be a perfect Lila Rossi knockoff.

“I was just curious,” Naomi added, feigning nonchalance. “I didn’t know Y/N had a thing for him at all. It’s so… sudden.”

A dramatic sigh escaped her lips, poisoning the air with artificial sorrow. “I just thought Reo and I had something special,” she murmured, voice trembling just enough to sell the act.

Right on cue, the girls around her swarmed with words of comfort, clinging to her faux distress. Yuna, however, kept her hands to herself.

She knew.

She knew Naomi’s perfect-girl act, her fake sweetness, the way she wove a flawless love story with Reo like it was destiny. She also knew that Naomi was planning something—something that involved you.

Yet, here she was. Being her ‘friend.’

It wasn’t like her at all. But then again, lately, nothing felt real. Not Naomi. Not Reo. Not herself,

not even you. Everything was a lie.

He’s frying your brain, you figured that he was a yapper and such but WOW did you not expect this. Maybe if you just close your eyes—

“Y/n! Are you trying to sleep? I’m still talking to you.”

“Yeah, no, you’re sending extra epic echolocation straight into my ears,” you grumble.

Reo only grins, completely unfazed. “Do you have a favorite chocolate? Or did you like the ones I got you last time? Are you allergic to anything?”

“Peanut butter.”

“Wait—really?”

“I don’t know.”

His brows furrow. “What do you mean you don’t know?”

You groan, turning to the only person who might save you. “Nagi, take your boyfriend or something.”

“eh?…I thought he was your boyfriend,” Nagi mumbles, barely looking up from his phone.

Reo huffs, undeterred. “Come on, why won’t you tell me anything?”

“Because if I do, you’ll buy some overpriced $1000 junk like you did for me and my mom earlier. No more questions, I already answered enough.” You drop your head back down, finally able to close your eyes for a whole second—

“Do you have a favorite animal?”

“Reo.”

“My love, you’re hurting me.” Reo pouts, acting heartbroken

Lifting your head, you meet his gaze, his violet eyes gleaming with curiosity. “What if I get to know more about you instead?”

Reo grins. “Alright. I play the guitar, I play soccer, I speak multiple languages, and—”

“I meant know you. Not the version you project to everyone else.” Your voice lowers slightly. “I hated that version of you anyway.”

He raises a brow, amused. “So… are you saying you don’t hate me anymore?”

“I didn’t say that, Barney.”

An offended scoff escapes Reo’s lips as he clutches his chest dramatically. “Why do you keep calling me that?”

“Look at you, purple head.” You gesture vaguely at his hair, but the longer you stare at him, the more a strange guilt settles in your chest. It creeps in like thorns growing on the stem of a ripe red rose—unseen at first, but impossible to ignore.

A sigh escapes your lips before you ask, softer this time, “What do you actually like? Not what you show off to others—what do you really like? Or hate? Your friends? Your favorite flowers?”

Reo pauses, tilting his head in thought. Seconds tick by. Thirty. Forty. A whole minute.

Finally, he exhales, a small frown tugging at his lips. “…I don’t know.”

You blink, caught off guard by the quiet admission. But you get it. His whole life has been a performance, shaped by expectations, by a lie he never really chose.

“Well,” you murmur, leaning forward just a bit. “Don’t you like soccer? Tell me about it.”

“Here, first edition by way.” Reo’s delicate hands extend a book toward you. One that you’ve been dying to read but never could find it but there it was. Just another item placed around in the 50,000 book—or maybe more, library in the Mikage house— or whatever that building was. How is that a house?

You hesitantly take hold of the book, you’re still spellbound to see it in person, right in front of your two eyes. A star so bright, and full of glitter yet this time it wasn’t out of your hand’s reach. “Is this the only thing you got me?”

“Did you want more?” Reo’s eye light up

“No. You better not have gotten more.”

The hand tucked behind his back slowly reaches out to expose a small keychain and before he could open his mouth in protest you stop him, “ah- no. Why did you even get that?”

“I just..saw it at the store and it reminded me of you.”

“I told you to stop spending things for me, this relationship isn’t even…real” You say softly, avoiding your gaze as you rub the back of your neck

“Well, yes. But our friendship isn’t right?”

It takes a good moment before youre able to gaze into his eyes and respond “It isn’t”

“Oh— and uh dinner with my parents this Friday.” His subject change wasn’t the thing that surprised, it was the fact that it was tomorrow!

“What— wait you didn’t tell me it was this week, I thought we started the Friday dinners next week!”

A chuckle. Just a nervous childish chuckle paired with a cute smile was all you received from Reo as he shy's away. He knew this would make you angry, you weren’t exactly ready to meet one of the richest families on Earth. “Well… They actually found out before I could tell them and then they just arranged to meet you Friday— or tomorrow I guess”

“Reo! I don’t even know what to wear! Have you seen my wardrobe? It’s not Mikage fancy like”

“I like your wardrobe” His happy little smile paved the way through your stress

“But Reo-” His hand softly brushes through yours in reassurance.

“Y/n, I already arranged everything for you. I’ll pick you up at 6 after school, and if you want I’ll pick something out for you to wear. You just need to sit and look pretty and eat. I’m sure the look pretty part is easy for you though.”

The last sigh allowed you to finally breathe normally, stress out the window as Reo continue to rub the sides of your shoulders and soft knuckles. His touch ever so hazy, a kiss of gentle, and melodic “I have practice today so…” Reo stopped mid-thought, gaze lingered, unreadable. He wanted to kiss your cheek a nice goodbye before heading off but he stilled. “I’ll see you tomorrow” His figure began to fade.

As Reo left, there was no point in staying at school any longer. With a sigh, you picked up your feet and headed toward the gates. The sun dimmed down, hueing it’s lucent colors on your radiant skin. Warm, you felt. Just from the touch of it’s lingering kiss, a gift from the Sun was like a gift from Reo. But the moment passed to soon, now it seemed like the dark night had conquered the sky but it didn’t. It was just Yuna.

She looked at you for moment till she started walking, speeding up to avoid you at all cost. “Wait—” it slipped out of your mouth, you’re desprate, hungry, starving—don’t leave. please

She stopped in her tracks the moment she heard your voice, her head turning back to look at you, but her eyes didn’t carry the same look she use to give you.

“I never really liked Nagi…” You try to reason, you could even break down on your knees, bruise it as it may— please, please forgive me.

“Ok..” The shatter on your heart couldn’t get any worse, you knew how angry she was. But did she know how miserable you are. How wretched of the nothing you are without her?

“Yuna—”

“Why are you dating him? Reo. You barely even talked to him, and Naomi and him are soon to be lovers one day.”

“He’s…gracious and caring”

“Is that just another labyrinth lie”

“What— no no it isn’t”

“You’re all a bunch of liars.” Naomi and her personality? Fake. Your and Reo’s relationship, a facade. Her head look down at her feet, avoiding your heavyhearted gaze. One look into your eyes and she’ll give in.

“I don’t want to talk you anymore” And with that, makes Yuna the biggest liar. She loved to talk to you right now. About how she’s having trouble understanding the math assignment, or the new boy on the streets, the spider she saw in the shower, the haircut she’s been wanting to get, but mostly just talk to you. Be with you. But her body takes control of it’s own and wanders away from the very one she die for.

Arriving home after that was nothing more than depressing, all this time you thought Yuna was avoiding you but it hit you the moment you saw her. You were the one avoiding everything, using Reo as a way to function with Yuna gone, pretending like there weren’t nasty gossip about you and Reo and now you have to meet your fake-boyfriend’s parents. Your life is a mess. You wipe away the small tear dripping down your cheek once you heard the door creak open, your mom entered. Gently setting herself next to you. “Is something wrong?”

“No…well…yeah?”

“Is it about your boyfriend? Is he treating you wrong”

You softly chuckle, her motherly humor filling the room’s warmth. Engulfing you with love

“Kinda. Tomorrow I have to go to dinner with his parents.”

“Oh…yeah… I wanted to talk to you about that.” Your mother grew in a deep breath. “I know that the choices I did in my past wasn’t…necessarily good and it can effect you gravely, but never let anyone talk you down on that. You are the greatest gift I can have.” She kiss you on the head, her hand wraps around yours “He must really like you if he’s willing to face the consequences. You know, when I went to school with his parents, they were such bitches.”

“Mom!”

“I know, I know—one dollar in the cussing jar.” She waves a hand dismissively. “But I meant it. If there’s anything bothering you, you’d tell me, right?”

You nod, offering a small smile as she leaves the room.

But the truth is—he wasn’t the problem at all. If anything, he was the reason you were still here, still happy. The weight in your chest wasn’t because of him. It was because of her.

Yuna.

The mess you made, the way things fell apart between you two—it haunted you. How could you ever forgive yourself for what happened? For the hurt you caused?

After she left, it was like the world lost its color. You spent a week drowning in your own thoughts, sinking deeper into something you couldn’t quite escape. The sky stayed gray no matter how many times you looked up, hoping for a change.

But then, when you lifted your head again, it wasn’t Yuna standing there.

It was Reo.

And for the first time in a long while, the sky didn’t seem so gray.

The next morning you’re greeted with a limo, again. Reo exits the car to say hi, but his great smile was already good enough to fill you with warmth. He almost looked like Yuna in a slight moment. “Y/n! Good morning.” He moves to the side to let you in first but quickly stops you, “Are you sure you can come to school, you look sick.” He starts to worry, hands feeling your forehead for any high temperatures, he’s looking around you if any bones or muscles are sore, or if you’re limping. “It’s okay, I’m not sick.” You reassure him, a small laughter leaves your lips as you see him worried so quickly

”Your eyes are really swollen, are you sure?’ He leaned in more close, more worried. His breath making whole contact on the hair on your skin.

“Uh— yeah you know I just got makeup in my eye so…” You try to excuse yourself and look away, rubbing the back of your neck.

“…Were you crying? Was it because of me? If you don’t want to see my parents today I’ll tell them no.”

“No it’s not that… um lets just get in the car and head to school first.” Before you could slip into the limo, his hand lands on your shoulder

“You can tell me if anything is wrong, you’re my friend y/n”

You sigh with a soft smile “Stop worrying and let’s go. We’re gonna be late”

“Late— Oh shoot we need to hurry!”

“You go ahead Nagi, we’ll meet you.” Unhurried, Reo insists his other duo to go first which was quite obvious to you what his intentions was. His heel quickly turns to face you fully, still carrying that angelic smile. “Soo…” He started off slowly, building, rhyming into your ease, not wanting to make you feel uncomfortable. “Are you sure you’re okay?” You both start walking towards the school, students in their uniforms, some messy, some neat, some— are something, pass by as you walk with your ‘boyfriend’ and to your measure girls and boys gather around to admire Reo Mikage and the flowers that following behind him as he walks. “Yeah…—well, I don’t know maybe.” Your breath hitched just for a second before saying her name, it felt impossible to say. It felt like you didn’t deserve to say her name for how horrible you were to her. You did lie to her, and you still are by playing around with the Mikage boy. “I spoke to Yuna yesterday.” Your voice steady, soft, and low. Eyes on the ground, avoidant on everything around you even the pink petals following on your shoulders and the thins between your hair. You couldn’t see but Reo’s attention shifted all upon you, and only you.

“Oh…” Reo softly caresses the side of your shoulder “I know it seems hard…I mean you’re going to meet my parents today, and you’re arguing with Yuna, but you’re never alone. You have your mom, whose nice and always seems like the type to fight for you. And you have….me. So cry or don’t cry, whatever happens from now on. I’m here.” You crane your neck up, embracing all the details of his beauty. He looked more dreamy up close. The soft pads of his thumb caress your dumpling cheek, wiping away your tear. You start to tear up even more, your nose speeding it’s way to breathe. Reo starts to panic, his eyes widen in fear Did I say something wrong?!—Was I too insensitive? Gah, I’m so stupid!

“Y—y/n! Is—is it because of me? I’m so stupid, I’m so sorry—” He quickly hugs you, comforting your head in his chest as you sob. His hand swaying back and forth in the locks of your hair. His touch smooth and caring. His other arm wrapped around you, feeling evermore secure then ever. “I’m sorry…”

Oh, and let’s not forget the crowd. Yeah, they’re still here—watching, wide-eyed, as you and Reo share what might just be the most intimate moment of your life. Their gasps are barely audible, breaths hitched in awe, eyes locked onto the quiet intimacy unfolding in the middle of the field. The world around you feels like it’s slowing down, wrapped in the warmth of his touch, his words, him. And yet, the weight in your chest lingers.

The longest seven minutes of your life. That’s how it felt—wrapped in Reo’s warm embrace, his hand smoothing over your hair as if trying to silence every unspoken fear inside you. Your breath steadies, the tear-stained ache in your chest easing, and yet… he doesn’t let go. Even with the crowd long gone, leaving only the two of you beneath the gentle breeze of the afternoon, he still holds you. "Reo…” Your voice is quiet, but it’s enough to make him straighten, body instantly attentive, as if ready to spring into action at your every word. You hear the nervous gulp in his throat. "Yes?" His response is soft, cautious. You take a breath. "Thank you. Sorry I’ve been a whole mess lately." Reo scoffs playfully, his grip around you not loosening. "It’s no problem," he mumbles, barely above a whisper, like he’s scared his words might make you crumble again. For a moment, there’s only silence—comfortable, but filled with something else. Something unspoken. Then, Reo gently pulls back just enough to see your face, he brushes your hair out of your face and gazes at you a little too long. “Reo” You say softly again

“Hmm?”

“I think the bell rang already”

“Wh—What already!? We have to hurry before they take attendance”

[13eyond13]

Hi. What are your headcanons about Beyond Birthday in everyday life? Do you think he is actually over the top like in the LABB Case, or do you think he is actually very quiet? I got the sense that he was mocking L or acting as a satirical version of him, but do you think he is actually like that? Anyway, this is kind of a confusing question, but I hope you understand what I mean. Also, what is your favorite version of him in fanfictions?

BEYOND + EVERYDAY LIFE:

So as I'm sure you're aware, it's always a pretty difficult thing to decide what B is REALLY like outside of the LABB case, because most of the time when we see him he is probably putting on a bit of an act.

However, here are some characteristics and interests I think B probably genuinely has:

-I think he's incredibly passive aggressive and emotionally manipulative and guilt-trippy when he's displeased with somebody or something, and I think he's perhaps the MOST passive aggressive of any character in this entire series. Almost every interaction he has with Naomi seems to be absolutely heaped with passive aggression and underhanded/indirect antagonizing (which I suppose COULD be something he's doing because he thinks of it an an L characteristic or he wants to piss off L and/or L's employee, but I think the very fact that he's doing this entire performance and challenging L in such a mocking, roundabout sort of way is passive aggressive behaviour in itself).

-I also think of him as a coward when it comes to direct face-to-face confrontations. I think he's way more the type to sneakily try to attack somebody behind their back or when their guard is down than to attempt to arrange a fair fight or to directly approach a person he has a problem with and tell them so to their face (due to things like how he knocks his victims out with drugs, sneak-attacks Naomi to test her skills, and how indirectly he addresses most things and often pretends to be oblivious about stuff he obviously isn't oblivious about, etc). To me this is basically the opposite of other more assertive and confrontational characters in the Death Note manga like Mello – Mello seems to prefer to go right up to somebody's face and tell them exactly what problem he has with them and what he plans to do about it.

-I think he's lonely and depressed due to his eyes and his tragic childhood and his bad time at Wammy's in a way that might've been fixable at some point in his past, but that by the time we meet him in canon at least he's very far gone into complete misanthropy and viewing other people mostly as tools to achieve his goals. He obviously doesn't easily fit in with other people and has always been able to tell when they were going to die, and this has given him a very strange sense of otherness and detachment from other people and a constant looming awareness of death. Mello says that B may not even view himself as a human being, in part because he's never been able to see his own lifespan, and I think that he might possibly therefore feel that he should not have to adhere to regular human standards or morals (which could be partially why he kills people so casually for the case).

-I think he's pretty secretive and I think he basically never tells people about his eyes, at least not by the time he's an adult. I tend to think he wouldn't even tell people about them at Wammy's (even if the book implies that he was taken in by Wammy's due to his eyes) because it creates too many plot holes for the Kira case if he does, but also because he never even hints about them during the LABB case investigation at all. And I just find it a lot more interesting to imagine he has these vulnerabilities and dark secrets that he carries around with him like that. He might be incessantly chatty, but that doesn't mean he's an open book. In fact, there is a part in the novel that says B has never told anybody about his shinigami eyes:

-I think he probably is genuinely interested in some of the stuff he includes in the case like the Akazukin ChaCha manga, because he really seems to know a lot about it and to genuinely like it, and L has never indicated having interests like that himself at any point.

-I think he's actually maybe pretty good at conning people whenever he's not being incredibly offputting, because he somehow managed to convince his victims' grieving families to hire him to investigate the murders.

-I think he seems to be really comfortable with using and discarding a wide variety of things in service of creating the LABB case, and isn't that emotionally invested in the ownership of all of it nor the artistry behind every aspect of it. For example, he didn't handcraft the wara ningyo dolls that he nailed to the walls, but instead used ones that were cheap, available in bulk, and easily found at any random toy store. He had a bunch of rented warehouses and storage lockers around town that he squatted in and lived in, he stole cars, and I think he probably did things like use masks and makeshift weapons and temporary disguises that he'd then discard in a dumpster, etc. I feel like he's not somebody who gets terribly attached to possessions or places that he lives, but rather just uses whatever is available and convenient at the time. Perhaps he gets more attached to things like setting up his crime scenes and his puzzles just so, or his favourite fictional characters... Shiine from Akazukin ChaCha appears to be a fave:

OTHER QUESTIONS:

Do you think he is actually over the top like in the LABB Case, or do you think he is actually very quiet?

I think there's actually a bit of canon evidence that Beyond is NOT a naturally quiet person. We DO get some scenes of Beyond where he is alone and not putting on a performance for anybody else's sake, which are probably some of the best indications of what he's like whenever he's just being himself. (How exactly our narrator Mello would have KNOWN that B was doing any of these things when he was away from the investigation by himself is never exactly explained, but that's a digression for another day).

So B not only seems to talk out loud to himself whenever he's alone, but to also constantly do things like practise how to laugh:

In this scene B is shown to start talking out loud to himself "just as he woke up." He cracks open his eyes and goes, "If only I could see the death of the world..." Quite the way to start the morning! Then he starts musing out loud about his schemes, his thoughts about his opponents, and then tries out different laughs "as if laughing was just another task he had to perform."

This gives me the impression that B is a very talkative character. I think of him as a bit of an antisocial extrovert who basically keeps himself company and works through his thoughts and plans by narrating things out loud to himself even when he's alone. He's very talkative both in these kinds of scenes AND the scenes when he's with Naomi, so I'd say that's probably a pretty consistent characteristic for Beyond.

I DO think he can be very sneaky and very quiet whenever he has to be as well, though.... I'm thinking of scenes like how he was silently hiding under the bed when Naomi first got to the crime scene where they first met.

I got the sense that he was mocking L or acting as a satirical version of him, but do you think he is actually like that?

Hmmm. Upon my recent re-read of the book I definitely lean towards thinking B was acting as a satirical/mocking version of L with his weird shenanigans during the investigation. Naomi says that the killer seems to be "trying to appear abnormal" in how he sets up the crime scenes, and I feel like likewise B is also maybe kind of "trying to appear abnormal" and trying to get a rise out of L with his impression of him as well. In my mind it's most interesting to view his behaviour during the LABB case as a bit of a mix of warped hero worship, some eccentric theatricality that features his own personality quirks slipping through, and also a very deliberately unflattering/exaggerated caricature of L. I think that B has learned to thrive on negative attention almost as much as he'd probably have thrived on positive attention, and that much of the time when he's being the worst he's probably thinking that he's making a clever point or cheekily thumbing his nose at L and L's proxy. But yeah, it's a lot more likely to me that he's intentionally being a bit offputting and insulting in his impression of L at times than that he just absolutely sucks at acting, or that he REALLY thinks he's always doing an excellent and flattering and totally realistic portrait here.

Take how he first makes a cup of coffee for Naomi, for example:

He puts SO MUCH SUGAR IN IT that it's "less like sugar dissolved in coffee than sugar moistened with coffee," and then drinks it as if there's nothing unusual about it and chastises Naomi for being grossed out.

But later on Naomi makes B some coffee that has a normal amount of sugar in it, and she "half expected him to complain" whenever he drinks it, but he instead downs it without any remark (which to me indicates that he perhaps does not normally actually take his coffee like a sugar sludge):

In the book B said he believes that Naomi is "L's eyes," and therefore is counting on the fact that Naomi will relay everything she is witnessing in person to L. I think he's quite excited that L is actually paying attention to him and trying to defeat him, even if L is not there in person himself, and so is doing all he can to hold onto L's attention and to prove how superior to L he really is at every turn.

The book also said that B possibly just wanted to be able to actually meet L in person so he could see the name and numbers above his head for real, which I think is a pretty interesting motive for him to have (something I find a bit OOC in a lot of B fics is that I don't think B ever actually wanted to murder L in canon. He just wanted to prove himself superior to L by creating an unsolvable case for him to solve):

Also, what is your favorite version of him in fanfictions?

I haven't gone looking for B fic in SO LONG now, and I do find it a bit tricky to find portrayals of B in fics that I actually find interesting and enjoy.

This fic writer's B is one of my fave takes on him in the fandom, though. (x) I think you can tell how much they love him as a character by their writing, and I think that they always write him interestingly! They often will creatively change up little things about the DN characters' backstories and relationships from fic to fic, but it always seems plausible and works well for me too (heads up that most if not all of them are shippy BxL fics, and to please check the content warnings before you read in case there's anything you might wish to avoid reading).

I also had a bit of an AxB phase years ago and went looking for all the AxB fics I could find, and I remember liking this one quite a bit (x).

[holographqq]

Hiii I adore your loubill art and I’m wondering if I can ask a couple of questions for them!

Hypothetically speaking if Lou and Bill had a child together, what’s their 1-10 scale of them being parents?

How did they ever fall in love with each other and why is Bill reluctant to explain his feelings towards Lou?

Do you think they can work it out in the epilogue or no?

Sorry if these questions are weird, I also followed you from TikTok if anything! Also I hope you don’t mind asking for a small request if you’re into drawing eltingville ocs but do you think you can draw my eltingville oc Naomi?

Anyways I love your art and I want to see more of LouBill, I love their dynamics and how cute they are in their own way! 💓💓💕💓💘💖🩷💝💞

HI HI OF COURSE YES

1: I’ve thought about this a lot. Lou and Bill both have parental issues. Lou is afraid of being a mother and ending up overtly anxious, taking extremes to calm herself down, and becoming a druggie like her mother did. Bill is afraid of becoming overtly anxious and being an absent father. Having a child would be no simple thing between them. I think that in the delivery room, it would be silent for a long time, and they’d both hold the baby, and they’d both start crying.

They’re terrified, but they have never felt this much love for one thing ever in their lives. This baby would be his and her entire world. They’d probably name it after some character. At first, the stress would be a source of friction. I’m talking the first several years. But when the kid starts to grow up, they’d be able to connect a little bit better, and they’d finally settle down and be mature enough to handle things in an adult manner without blowing up on one another. This is closer to ~34 ish.

Overall, doing-their-absolute-best/10. I don’t think I can give that a rating. If I had to, it would be about 7.

2: when it comes down to it, Bill and Lou had no control over it. There was no “why” to when they fell in love. They just did. That threw everything they had, especially Bill, completely askew. It was a fire that burned brighter every time they tried to smother it. This made him more prone to lashing out, and her more prone to fighting back harder, because they both were panicked.

Really and truly, Bill’s reluctance comes from guilt. Guilt and embarrassment. “God, what do you mean he’s in love with that dykey bitch?” Becomes “God, what do you mean he’s been calling this girl a dykey bitch?”

He is humiliated. He’s hurt her, he KNOWS he has. Hell, he made sure of it to try and push her away. At first, he just didn’t want to deal with her. And then he began to enjoy her company. And when he realized what was happening, he doubled down, because he was ashamed. He’d already treated her like shit. Surely she’d just laugh in his face if he tried asking her out (this was after he’d finally come to terms with having a crush on her, which was hell on earth for him).

The thing was, he noticed subtle differences in her. She was beginning to open up a little bit more. Be a little less aggressive. She was quicker to smile, and had begun really enjoying X-Men. He just couldn’t keep being aggressive. He couldn’t do it. He would depressively resign himself to feeling peace around her, comfort, joy, happiness. And after a while, it wasn’t so hard.

3: they absolutely do. Bill continues to seek therapy, Lou gets some herself, and they get married about 2 or 3 years (subject to change) after the events of the epilogue. 💕💕

And I’ve been doing a series of art trades over on TikTok, but those are closed right now just because I’ve been busy!! One of these days I’d love to, Naomi looks so cute! And thank you so much for the kind words!!

[silver-stake-through-the-heart]

Why to be wary of 12x19 and 12x23 Cas

Themes: doubt - heaven coercion – paradise on earth - human things vs a perfect world

4x07 – It's the Great Pumpkin, Sam Winchester

Cas: Can I tell you something if you promise not to tell another soul?

Dean: Okay.

Cas: I'm not a… hammer as you say. I have questions, I have doubts.

4x20 – The Rapture

Cas: I learned my lesson while I was away, Dean. I serve heaven, I don't serve man, and I certainly don't serve you.

4x22 – Lucifer Rising

Zachariah: Why not? The apocalypse? Poor name, bad marketing – puts people off. When all it is is Ali/Foreman. On a… slightly larger scale. And we like our chances. When our side wins – and we will – it's paradise on earth. Now, what's not to like about that?

4x22 – Lucifer Rising

Dean: Destiny? Don't give me that "holy" crap. Destiny, God's plan… It's all a bunch of lies, you poor, stupid son of a bitch! It's just a way for your bosses to keep me and keep you in line! You know what's real? People, families – that's real. And you're gonna watch them all burn?

Cas: What is so worth saving? I see nothing but pain here. I see inside you. I see your guilt, your anger, confusion. In paradise, all is forgiven. You'll be at peace. Even with Sam.

Dean: You can take your peace… and shove it up your lily-white ass. 'Cause I'll take the pain and the guilt. I'll even take Sam as is. It's a lot better than being some Stepford bitch in paradise. This is simple, Cas! No more crap about being a good soldier. There is a right and there is a wrong here, and you know it.

5x14 – My Bloody Valentine

Sam: I thought famine meant starvation, like as in, you know, food.

Cas: Yes. Absolutely. But not just food. I mean, everyone seems to be starving for something. Sex, attention, drugs, love…

5x14 – My Bloody Valentine

Cas: What I don't understand is…where is your hunger, Dean?

5x14 – My Bloody Valentine

Famine: Doesn't take much – hardly a push. Oh, America – all-you-can-eat, all the time. Consume, consume. A swarm of locusts in stretch pants. And yet, you're all still starving because hunger doesn't just come from the body, it also comes from the soul. (…) You're not hungry, Dean, because inside, you're already…dead.

9x06 – Heaven Can't Wait

Cas: The Rit Zien home in on pain, it's like a beacon to them. So, when this angel fell to earth, he heard the victims' cries, and their anguish, same as he'd hear an angel's in heaven. He's continuing his heavenly work down here. One suffering human at a time.

Dean: Yeah, but this last victim was not suffering. She was just a normal, moody kid.

Cas: But he just got here. The ebb and flow of human emotion – Dean, I've been on earth for a few years, and I've only begun to grasp it. To him, pain is pain.

9x06 – Heaven Can't Wait

Ephraim: I just followed the sound of your pain. You have no idea how loud it is. I could hear you for miles.

Cas: Do you really think you're doing Heaven's work down here?

Ephraim: I know I am.

Cas: Well, you're wrong. Earth can be a hard place. But these humans, they can get better. They're just doing the best they can.

10x01 – Black

Hannah: Without rules, there is chaos. Out of chaos rise angels like Naomi, Bartholomew…Metatron.

Cas: Well, perhaps I've been down here with them for too long. There's seemingly nothing but chaos. But not all bad comes from it. Art. Hope. Love. Dreams.

Hannah: But t-those are human things.

Cas: Yes.

12x19 – The Future

Castiel: I am. I've been so lost. I'm not lost anymore. And I know now that this child must be born with all of his power.

Sam: You can't actually mean that.

Castiel: Yes. I do. I have faith. We have to go.

12x23 – All Along the Watchtower

Castiel: Right, I saw– I saw… I saw the future. I saw a world without pain or hunger or want. I saw the world that this child… that your child… will create. And it is a world without fear and without suffering and without hate. I saw paradise.

Blind obedience/faith is the contrary of Cas core (he has doubts! since forever!).

A world without pain or hunger or want isn't a world for humans.

[jaehyunspeachparty]

Hi, I don’t know if anyone remembers my story. Lately, I’ve been thinking about it a lot and wrote my thoughts down. That’s why I wrote something down and somehow it got longer and longer. Maybe some want to read it. I hope you’re all doing well ❤ ____________________________________________________________

Chuseok with the Jung's (a sight into the future) “Miga Jung has once again been nominated for Best Actress,” blared the TV. “I don’t think she’ll win it again this year,” said one of the hosts. “Do you think so?” came the immediate counter-question. “Lately, she’s been giving off more influencer vibes. I can’t take her seriously as an actress anymore.” Miga sighed and finally looked up at the TV. She had been sorting gifts for her family and just wanted something on in the background. But suddenly, the TV turned off, and she heard the remote control drop onto the cold stone surface of the kitchen counter. “Silence is nice too,” she heard her boyfriend's voice as she felt his soft lips on her shoulders. “He’s kind of right,” she sighed, turning around. Hyunjin stood in front of her, gazing at her with his dark eyes. He was about to disagree, but then the doorbell rang. Miga gave him a quick kiss before pulling away to open the door. “Hi, Gomo!” A little girl stood on the doorstep. Miga beamed as she saw her young niece. She was incredibly proud of her and often had her over. “Hello, Naomi, you look so pretty today.” The little girl began to giggle. “I’ve got everything.” By now, Hyunjin had packed all the gifts and the pre-cooked food. Sunoh and Chichi stood behind their eldest daughter, also ready to go. The special thing was that Chichi had just given birth to another daughter, named Rei, only three weeks ago. Rei was snugly wrapped in a cloth against her mother. Together, they were heading to their parents’ house to celebrate Chuseok. “No rush, Kiwoo and Dad haven’t even left yet,” said Sunoh, noticing his best friend looked a bit nervous. “I don’t think Hyunjin is worried about the time,” Miga winked at her boyfriend and lifted Naomi into her arms. “Are you still scared of Dad?” Sunoh laughed, and together they made their way to the elevator. Since they all lived in the same building, it was easier to leave together. “Scared is an understatement.” Hyunjin raised his eyebrows but stayed quiet. “Dad only has a problem with the fact that, according to the company, we’re not supposed to be together. I’m sure he respects you as a person,” Miga said as the elevator arrived and the family stepped in. “I’m not so sure,” Hyunjin said quietly, but no one heard him.

Kiwoo bent over the girl and kissed her. His hands were all over her body. "I like your underwear," he breathed while removing them. "This is my Chuseok gift for you," she breathed, showing off the red bra she bought especially for him. But Kiwoo stopped and looked at the girl with wide eyes. "What?" she asked with an uncertain laugh. "Whats the time?" he asked horrified and broke away from the girl. She looked a little hurt and pulled her dress back up. "11am", she said hesitantly and looked at him. He put his shirt back on and tried to fix himself up as best as he could, making sure nothing was noticeable. He glanced at his phone and saw all the missed calls from his father. “Shit, I’m in trouble,” he cursed. It was a habit he needed to break—his manager was always on him about cursing too much. “Kiwoo,” he suddenly heard, and the voice didn’t sound friendly. He squinted his eyes and slowly turned around. “Where were you?” Jaehyun stood in front of him, looking at his son. “Uh… I was still training. Sorry, Dad. I lost track of time.” Kiwoo lowered his head and looked at the ground, guilt evident in his posture. Jaehyun wasn’t entirely convinced. His son often had trouble on his mind, but at the same time, he was incredibly charismatic. He’d caused plenty of trouble, but even the top boss at SM always forgave him. “Do you have anything else with you?” Jaehyun asked, noticing Kiwoo was only wearing sweaty workout clothes. “I… can’t this work?” Kiwoo knew exactly how charismatic he was, and he smiled with a wink. But that didn’t always work with his father. “You know your mother expects you to dress properly,” Jaehyun crossed his arms. He was a bit annoyed with his son. “Yeah, yeah, I’ve got something with me.” “Hurry up. Your siblings are already on their way,” Jaehyun sighed and shook his head. They were definitely going to be the last to arrive.

Geon sat at the table, continuing to study, while you prepared the food for the day. Your son had been studying diligently for weeks, deeply buried in his books. His beautiful hair had been shaved off since he had been in the military. But since then, he had changed and withdrawn more and more. You hoped that the holidays would help him relax a bit again. Something had happened to Geon in the military, and you didn’t like it at all. “Here, some vitamins.” You set a plate of sliced fruit in front of him and gently stroked his shoulder. But in that moment, Geon flinched briefly, until he realized it was only his mother standing next to him. “Thanks, Mum,” he said, adjusting his glasses. In that moment, you felt tears welling up. Something was going on inside your son, but you couldn’t help him. He was so different from your other children. Geon had always been introverted. His twin brother, Kiwoo, was more prone to trouble, and ever since certain hormones started surging through his body, you had to keep an eye on him so he wouldn’t constantly end up in some girl’s pants. A few times, he received a “gift” from a father or you had to bail him out of tricky situations. 

As you continued cooking for the next few minutes, Geon kept studying, but soon you heard the door open. “Go on ahead to Grandma,” you heard Sunoh’s voice, and it still sent chills down your spine when you heard the word "Grandma." “Grandma!” You suddenly saw a black-haired figure slowly making their way into the kitchen. “Naomi, it’s so nice to see you!” You hugged your granddaughter and gave her a kiss on the forehead. You never thought you and Jaehyun would become grandparents so soon, but Sunoh and Chichi were quick. “Mum!” Miga entered with Hyunjin following shyly behind her. You hugged your daughter. Even though you saw each other regularly, it was always nice to see her. Over time, you had developed a really beautiful, friendly relationship, and you were thankful for that every day. You also really liked her boyfriend—you thought he was perfect for her, even if Jaehyun didn’t agree. But after what you learned about Jaemin (which Jaehyun didn’t know), you were glad she had someone kind and caring by her side. “Hyunjin, it’s great to have you here.” You hugged him and noticed the relief in his face that at least one of his girlfriend’s parents accepted him. “Thank you for letting me join the celebration.” He bowed politely, but you gently straightened him up. “You’re part of the family here. We’re happy to have you. Take a seat.” You smiled, and somehow, having everyone back in the house made you feel happy. The house had lost a bit of its liveliness since all the kids moved out. “Oh my God, who’s that coming?” You didn’t even get the chance to greet Chichi and Sunoh properly before you were already taking little Rei out of their hands. “Ahhhh, she smells so good,” you said, pressing the newborn girl to you. It was so nice to have a baby in your arms again. “Yeah, Mum, we’re here too,” Sunoh said, rolling his eyes with a smile. “Sorry, ever since you’ve been bringing such sweet babies, I can’t help it.” You kissed little Rei on the forehead. By now, Miga was already by her younger brother Geon, hugging him. “I miss your hair,” Miga said, gently stroking her little brother’s head. Sunoh crossed his arms and looked a bit concerned at Geon. “Basic training is over. Can’t you let your hair grow out?” “Yeah… no… not for me…” Geon couldn’t bring himself to meet his brother’s eyes. Sunoh had already been through the military; he had some idea of what was going on. “You should stop working out so much. What’s going on with your arms?” You pinched your son’s bicep. You knew he liked working out, but he had gained a lot of muscle mass by now. “Mum…” Somehow, they all reverted back to being little kids, shyly rolling their eyes. You kind of liked that. You turned to Chichi, still holding little Rei in your arms. “Is he taking good care of you? You’ve just had a baby. You need to sit down.” Chichi was still like a daughter to you; that had never changed. And now that she was officially part of the family, you felt even more connected to her. “Yes, he takes care of me and he is training during his breaks at the studio. And Sunoh spoils me. I get plenty of rest, and Miga helps a lot with Naomi,” Chichi said with her usual gentle and empathetic smile. “I’m relieved that you all live in the same building. Kiwoo will probably stay in the dorms longer, but Geon, maybe we’ll look for an apartment for you nearby when you start university. It’s too far from the house.” “Oh yes, that would be great.” Miga hugged Geon, who flinched again. Sunoh looked at you with concern, and you realized that it wasn’t just you who was worried anymore.

An hour later, the last two men finally arrived. “The King is here,” Kiwoo announced as he strutted confidently and cheekily into the room, as usual. “If the King was ever on time, we’d have been here much earlier,” Jaehyun said, following him in and giving you a kiss as a greeting. He then greeted everyone else, but gave Hyunjin only a cold handshake. Miga’s boyfriend immediately felt uneasy again. Sunoh quickly noticed the tension and stepped in. “Mum, is it alright if we head to the living room, or do you need any help?” “All good. Make yourselves comfortable, and I’ll call if I need anything.” You handed Rei back to her parents and headed to the kitchen with Jaehyun, while the kids and their partners disappeared into the living room. “Wow, Dad still isn’t warming up to you,” Kiwoo said, patting Hyunjin on the shoulder. Miga looked anxiously at her boyfriend and took his hand. “He has to accept it,” Sunoh muttered, shaking his head. He couldn’t understand his father’s attitude in this matter at all. The group settled down. Sunoh got out the toys for Naomi while Chichi nursed Rei. Miga lay with Hyunjin on the couch, and the twins made themselves comfortable beside each other. “We’re far too rarely together like this,” Geon said with a sigh. Something was up with him; everyone could feel it. He had changed—the breakup before the military and then the military itself had taken a toll.

The afternoon was spent relaxing as everyone enjoyed their family time. Meanwhile, you had been busy cooking the entire meal and were happy to do so. “Hyunjin...” Jaehyun hadn’t said much that evening, so everyone was surprised when he suddenly addressed Miga’s boyfriend. “Yes...” Hyunjin replied quietly. “You’ve learned a lot from me, haven’t you?” Jaehyun asked, still not looking directly at him. “Yes...” Hyunjin said cautiously. Miga looked at you in panic, but you weren’t sure where your husband was going with this. “I’ve given you everything. Showed you everything. And in return, you break the rules?” Jaehyun finally looked Hyunjin directly in the eyes, making him freeze in place. “Come on, who cares?” Sunoh interjected, putting down his utensils. “The company forbade it,” Jaehyun hissed. “Dad, you know that’s bullshit,” Sunoh said, crossing his arms. “Sunoh, this is also about the reputation of our family.” “If our relationship is exposed, it’ll only affect Hyunjin. Dad, he’s the one taking the biggest risk in our relationship.” Miga reluctantly stood up to her father, but for her, this was a line she wouldn’t let him cross. Silence fell over the table; no one said a word. “How long has this been going on between you two?” Jaehyun asked, looking directly at Hyunjin. Hyunjin hesitated, unsure, and glanced at Miga, but he had to face the truth. “Since Sunoh moved into the apartment.” It was during the housewarming party, after Miga and Hyunjin’s official breakup (as mandated by SM), that they had rekindled their relationship. Jaehyun suddenly stood up, knocking over his chair in the process. This startled Geon so much that his heart rate spiked. He mumbled something to himself and jumped up, his eyes vacant as if he wasn’t really there anymore. Geon bolted out of the room, and Kiwoo quickly followed. “Jaehyun, that’s enough.” You stood up and tried to calm your husband. You hadn’t seen him this upset in a long time. “You knew, didn’t you?” He looked at you, disappointment written all over his face. “I think I should leave,” Hyunjin said, standing up. Jaehyun didn’t even look at him, seeming almost pleased that Hyunjin was about to go. But Miga followed her boyfriend. “Jaehyun, what are you doing?” You walked up to him, unable to comprehend what had gotten into your husband. “I just hate it when someone comes into our home without respect.” Jaehyun remained stubborn, still seething. “Hyunjin is very respectful. Oh my god, Jaehyun, you constantly had to break rules in our relationship back in the day.” You tried to remind him of their own past, hoping to bring him back to his senses. “Dad, do you remember when Hyunjin and Miga had to break up?” It had been a dark time for the family. When the two had been forced to separate, Miga’s world collapsed. She stopped going out, refused to eat, and eventually ended up hospitalized due to her emotional and physical collapse. “I don’t know why the company is so strict about Miga and Hyunjin. Maybe it’s because there are a few creeps in there, but you know that’s not normal.” Sunoh tried to talk sense into his father, and to your surprise, it seemed to be working. Jaehyun’s pulse slowed, and he began to realize what he was doing. “I... I...” Jaehyun couldn’t think clearly anymore. He left the conversation and retreated to his office.

“I’ll go. I don’t want to ruin your holiday,” Hyunjin said, grabbing his bag and placing it on the bed. “If you go, I’ll go too,” Miga said, standing beside him and looking at him firmly. Hyunjin knew she would say that. He turned to her and gently took hold of her forearms. “Hyunjin... I want to be with you.” Tears welled up in Miga’s eyes. If there was one thing Miga could do, it was love passionately. If anyone thought she had given a lot in her relationship with Jaemin, they hadn’t seen her with Hyunjin. She would fight for his love every second of the day. Their relationship was far from easy, but she loved him so much she couldn’t imagine her life without him anymore. “Miga...” he said softly, taking her face in his hands and resting his forehead against hers. He couldn’t explain how deeply he felt for her. With this relationship, he was risking everything—his idol career, his entire existence. Just then, the door opened, and Sunoh walked in. He saw the bag on the bed and looked shocked at his best friend. “You’re not leaving,” he said, startled. Hyunjin turned back to his bag. “I think it’s for the best…” “Miga, can you go check on Chichi? She’s alone with Naomi and Rei right now.” Sunoh knew Miga would understand; after all, Sunoh and Hyunjin had been best friends for years. "Dad is an idiot, but don't leave." Sunoh looked at him seriously, trying to reassure him. "I can't lose Miga again. I'm constantly afraid of messing everything up. My career, the money—it doesn't matter to me. But I don't want to give up on Miga." Hyunjin turned back to his bag, continuing to pack. Sunoh wasn't going to let this slide. He walked to the other side of the bed and sat down. "Hyunjin, tell me what really happened. We've known each other for so long." Sunoh's expression softened with concern. Hyunjin felt ashamed of the story, only Miga knew the full truth. But now it was time to let his best friend in. He pushed the bag aside and sat on the bed, taking a deep breath. "I grew up really poor. My mother and little sister died in a car accident. My father still blames me for it. I got into trouble at school that day, and she had to pick me up. Afterward, he started drinking, and he lost his job. To help us survive, I started working at a small fish restaurant, where I got discovered and started with the idol training. My dad borrowed money from the company. I was too young to understand what was happening. Now, I have to pay off all that debt. When the company found out about me and Miga, they threatened to fire me and demanded I pay everything back immediately. Miga couldn’t handle the pressure, so we broke up… That’s the short version." Hyunjin took a moment, the weight of his words settling between them. "Shit, man! That's rough." Sunoh nodded, finally piecing things together. Everything made sense now. "So far, only Miga knows. We even visited my father together once. She’d never want to cause me more trouble with my debt. That’s why we've always kept our relationship a secret." "You’re not going through this alone," Sunoh promised, placing a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Thanks, but I have to handle this myself." Hyunjin sighed, straightening up again. "Just stay another night, okay? See how things go. Do it for Miga. This weekend means a lot to her." Sunoh looked at him seriously, and after a moment, Hyunjin nodded without saying anything.

Later that evening, Miga and Hyunjin sat together in the garden by the natural pool, gazing at the water. Miga was relieved Hyunjin had decided to stay, even though she sensed the strange tension. Suddenly, Jaehyun appeared behind them, standing over Miga with a serious look. "Can I talk to Hyunjin for a moment?" Miga wasn't sure if that was a good idea. Hyunjin shot her a panicked glance. "Don’t worry, I just want to talk," Jaehyun said calmly. Miga hesitated but then stood up, giving Hyunjin a reassuring look before walking away. Hyunjin watched as her father sat down beside him, unsure of what was to come. "It wasn’t right of me to confront you like that at the table," Jaehyun said, his eyes fixed on the shimmering water. The garden lights reflected off the surface, casting a soft glow. "I've always seen so much potential in you, from the very beginning. You didn’t have much experience, but you had a lot of talent..." Jaehyun shifted his gaze to his fingers, clearly struggling with the admission. A confession like this required a lot of humility. "When you became the main dancer, I was proud. Finally, people could see what I had seen all along—the talent you had. You’ve developed more than anyone else, and you had the most ambition. I always admired that." Jaehyun placed his hands on the grass and leaned his head back. Hyunjin was caught off guard by Jaehyun’s words. He never thought Jaehyun saw him in such a positive light. "I quickly noticed how you looked at my daughter. How you couldn’t take your eyes off her..." Jaehyun paused. "If I can see something in you, why wouldn’t my daughter see the same?" He sat up straighter, turning to face Hyunjin. "I’m scared that Miga will go through the pain her mother went through. You’re part of one of the most successful groups of this generation. You’re one of the most handsome idols out there. I won’t even start with the fans, but trainees and even idols will do anything to be close to you. Miga loves you. She loves deeply, and just the thought of you breaking her heart makes me lose control." "I won’t break her heart... I love her more than anything," Hyunjin said, looking at Jaehyun with his dark, earnest eyes. "Right now, I’m the one breaking her heart." Jaehyun sighed as he stood up, adjusting his clothes. "I won’t say anything. You’re welcome here, but if you break her heart, I’ll become your biggest problem." He gave Hyunjin a pointed look. Hyunjin nodded in understanding. "Thank you," Hyunjin said quietly, and Jaehyun nodded before walking back to the house. Hyunjin watched him enter, where he saw you greet Jaehyun with a warm hug. Miga had already returned by that point and sat down beside Hyunjin, clearly worried. "And? How did it go?" She bit her lower lip and took a deep breath. Hyunjin looked at her, still in disbelief at how fortunate he was. Jaehyun’s biggest fear was that Hyunjin would ever show interest in another girl, but Hyunjin couldn’t even imagine that. Ever since he had met Miga, she was the only one on his mind. To him, she was the most beautiful person he had ever seen. "It went well. I understand your father’s concerns now," Hyunjin said with a soft smile. "Really?" Miga seemed genuinely surprised. "Your father used to be an idol, and he knows the risks. Your parents had their struggles, and he just doesn’t want you to go through the same thing." Hyunjin pulled Miga closer to him, resting her head against his chest. "You’re the only one who can make me happy," she whispered, placing her hand over his heart. Hyunjin was relieved to hear those words. For so long, he had felt like he was competing with Jaemin, but in the end, he had won Miga’s heart, and he never wanted to lose it.

[dotthings]

Thinking about Cas in 9.14 in relation to his arc away from angelic hubris and moving toward actualization of who he wants to be.

So the context, there are factions of angels. One of them is known as “the penitents” and they follow Rebecca. An angel Cas encounters explains it: “Naomi, Metatron, heavenly battles, politics -- she gave it up. All of it. Rebecca taught us the angels have lost touch with our true mission” that “We don't make war. We live humbly among these humans.”

Bartholomew, an ambitious, warlike, manipulative angel, murdered Rebecca, and he captures Cas.

As it turns out, Bart was under Cas’s command in the war against Raphael:

BARTHOLOMEW Word of your victory spread. You got called back to the garrison. You became the great Castiel… While I stayed behind, just a grunt. CASTIEL You gained a reputation for yourself, as well. The captives I left in your care, you tortured and killed them. BARTHOLOMEW I was ordered to kill those captives. You've been flying solo for so long, you've forgotten that's what angels do. We follow orders. CASTIEL Not you, though. Not anymore. BARTHOLOMEW That's right. I give them.

So Bart, who didn’t really believe in Cas, but was an obedient soldier and went along anyway, was surprised when Cas’s wild plan paid off, and he sounds bitter about how Cas gained in reputation while Bart was still “just a grunt.” Cas brings up the fact that Bart tortured and killed the captives Cas assigned to his care, and Bart says because he was ordered to--because that’s what angels do, they follow orders.

Bart giving the orders now isn’t an assertion of his free will, he’s merely flipped from grunt to a leader who is just as murderous as he was when he was taking orders, which is a bit of a mirror to Cas, who went from obedient soldier, to rebel, to a leader who chose a ruthless method to achieve victory (when Cas consumed a million monster souls and then Godstiel did terrible things). Bart questioned Cas, his former commander, but he doesn’t question the actual system they were caught in.

Cas then questions Bart's methods: CASTIEL Then why kill Rebecca and her followers? They're no threat to you. BARTHOLOMEW Perhaps, but better to nip a fledgling faction in the bud than let it grow into a bigger threat down the road. A drop of blood to save a gallon. CASTIEL I don't agree.

Bart believes the ends justify the means, no matter how much blood has to be spilled, and Cas doesn’t.

Bart and Cas seem self evidently in opposition, yet Bart still tries to get Cas to work with him, admitting he wanted to use Cas’s determination to find and stop Metatron.

BARTHOLOMEW I knew you'd be an asset. No one's as motivated as you to take him down. I've had my hands so full with the factions, it's distracted me from the real goal. But with you by my side -- the new boss and the ultimate rebel working together -- think of the message that would send to would-be dissidents. They'd finally understand that resistance is futile. Think of the bloodshed we could avert… What a united angelkind could accomplish in heaven… Elsewhere.

He’s playing Cas, flattering him,, referring to himself as “the new boss” and Cas as “the ultimate rebel,” and lures Cas with the promise of a united angelkind and less bloodshed, implicitly laying guilt on Cas, if Cas refuses his offer and more angels die.

The scene has some tasty sith tempting jedi flavoring --join me, Castiel, and together we’ll rule the Heavenly Host.

Effectively he's offering Cas the promise of a united angelic paradise. And promises of paradise on spn are something to think twice about and mistrust.

Bart then threatens an angel in front of Cas, giving his intention to torture him for information and kill him, then tries to tempt Cas into killing the angel, throwing up at Cas the ruthless things he did, that he's capable of.

Cas refuses. "Who I was, what I did, that's not who I am."

But Cas did steal another angel’s grace, recently.

Wanting to change, and being able to actually avoid doing something ruthless because of a desperate situation and the stakes, are two different things.

As compared to killing thousands of angels as Godstiel, stealing another angel’s grace is small scale, but still ruthless. Cas did it to turn himself into a weapon, knowing about the warring angel factions. A good character doing a ruthless thing for a greater need is still ruthlessness, but it doesn’t mean Cas is like Bart, either. Or that Cas isn't good, or Cas isn't more self-aware than he used to be.

So when Cas refuses to kill the angel, Bart throws Cas’s sense of moral superiority up at him and then attacks him.

BARTHOLOMEW What are you now? A penitent? CASTIEL I'm nothing.

I’m nothing.

That's not self-negation or lack of self-regard, that’s him rejecting the factionalism, manipulations, demands, having his strings pulled, he's not anything, he’s just Cas, who chooses free will and chooses not to give in to ruthless bloodshed.

Cas then does everything he can to avoid having to kill Bart. He overpowers Bart, and lets him go, and then Bart attacks him again and tries to kill him and finally Cas has to kill Bart to save his own life, and he didn't want to, even though Bart was manipulating him and wanted to kill him.

In the wake of all that, Cas unexpectedly winds up with angels just showing up ready to follow him. He becomes a reluctant leader, not by intimidation, not by manipulation, or promises of glorious angel paradise, but by choosing his own particular path, one that isn’t based on hubris.

Which doesn’t mean his arc’s done, and good intentions are one thing, being able to carry out an intention is another, but the growth is there, the wanting is there, and Cas is trying to make better choice and he has changed over the seasons.

[cringywhitedragon]

Some Halloween TC Rambles/Headcannons

It’s spooky season so to celebrate why not share some little bite-sized ramble ideas for some of the TC/TT cast for the spooky season

Being in the hospital can suck, especially for children during the holidays. Caduceus is well aware of that which is why both of the US (To fix the discrepancy in New Blood, I head-cannon that Caduceus has 2 branches in America, Caduceus USA East (Maryland) and Caduceus USA West (Angeles Bay)) and the European branches like to hold a little day of celebration. Staff will decorate the halls and most of the children patients will get the chance to participate in little activities related to the season. That even includes a little trick-or-treating event.

Dr. Niguel isn’t a big fan of the whole tradition unlike the rest of the staff as he usually just spends the whole day cooped up in his lab. Though it hasn’t stopped him one year from using a small pumpkin to test out a new surgical laser he was working on that then proceeded to sit on his desk proudly for the rest of the week leading up to Halloween or the rare thank you Leslie got when she decided to bring him the leftover candy from that year’s hospital trick-or-treat.

Tyler and Amy often go out trick or treating together when he can with this little tradition beginning as far back when she was just a toddler. Though this did get put on pause when Amy came down with GUILT but it didn’t stop them from finding other ways to celebrate together (Though there was a bit of somberness about in Tyler’s eyes at the possibly that Amy wouldn’t recover, yet that all changed after Derek came around and well you know the rest.)

Resurgum does have some similar traditions for Halloween a bit like Caduceus but on a lesser scale because they are a much smaller hospital.

While it’s not one of the busiest holidays in terms of calls, Maria Torres still gets a handful of strange cases that she and the other paramedics have to respond to that involve people doing stupid stuff sometimes. But hey, at least it’s not Christmas, The 4th of July, or Black Friday which often tend to be a whole lot worse.

Naomi, similarly to Victor, wasn’t really one who paid much attention to Halloween until Alyssa came into her life. The two went trick-or-treating one year with Alyssa dressed as a cat and Naomi has become known by several children who trick-or-treat in the neighborhood as the house that hands out those types of candies that look like eyeballs and fingers and whatnot (But hey, the kids, manly the boys, love it)

And just one more just for fun. About a year after the whole GUILT Pandemic, Derek had invited Angie to his place one Halloween after their shift had ended just to hang out when a group of kids passed by. One of them recognized Dr. Stiles as the one who had saved his dad which lead to the poor doctor to get surrounded by the boy and his friend group who were just in awe. When asked by Angie on what his costume was supposed to be, the kid responded that he was dressed as a doctor like his hero. Angie would not let poor Derek live that down.

[noirsfantasy]

On the first day of Christmas...

𝔄 𝔇𝔢𝔠𝔢𝔪𝔟𝔢𝔯 𝔗𝔬 ℜ𝔢𝔪𝔢𝔪𝔟𝔢𝔯

𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤 ➛ Actor!Michael B Jordan x OC!Naomi Samuels

𝔯𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤 ➛ Fluff

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱 ➛ 4.2K

𝔰𝔶𝔫𝔬𝔭𝔰𝔦𝔰 ➛ Returning home for the holidays, 29-year-old successful artist Naomi Samuels from New York finds her trip taking an unexpected turn. Things take an exciting twist when her brother Daniel arrives, accompanied by none other than the renowned actor Michael B. Jordan. As the next few days unfold with this unexpected guest, Naomi's holiday promises to be anything but ordinary. What adventures await in this unexpected reunion?

𝔞/𝔫 ➛ I'm gonna be honest, this story has me really excited. When I tell you I love Christmas, it's real. I want y'all to know that I fully intended this story to sound a bit hallmarky, so please bare with me. It gets good ;)

12 Days of Christmas Masterlist

Part 2 Here

The Samuels family's Christmas is always a hit. Family comes from all over down to the small town of Leavenworth, Washington just to gather together for this holiday. This is where my grandmother and mother lives, keeping the roots strong. Although, we haven't really had a big family Christmas since before COVID hit, so this one is bound to be special.

Just a week ago, I completed a project for a high-paying client, affording me the luxury of having the entire week before Christmas off. Usually, I am booked up to my ears at this time, so I am grateful for the vacation. I got to the house late last night, and so far, only a handful of aunts, uncles, and a few younger cousins had arrived. As the sole young adult present, I find myself shouldering the full force of our family's 'charm'.

I wake up early this morning in my old bedroom, starting my day with a warm shower. Once I'm dressed and freshened up, I head downstairs, hearing some chatter. I greet my grandmother, who is on the couch, watching her shows. She is always excited to see me.

"Good morning, Grandmother." I say with joy as I give her a warm hug.

"Oh, my beautiful Mimi." She calls my childhood nickname, her hand reaching out to cup my cheek with a gentle tremor. "You are turning into such a beautiful and remarkable woman. I can't tell you how proud of you I am." Her eyes reflect pure love, and I can't help but return her smile. The connection between my grandmother and me is unique, given that I am her first granddaughter.

"Thank you, Grandmother. I'm so happy that I could get to come see you. I know I haven't been around as much since I moved to New York for work," I admit, a twinge of guilt behind my words.

"Don't you worry about that, dear. You're here now, and every moment with my grandbaby is a blessing," she reassures me warmly. "I think your mom and aunts are in the kitchen preparing breakfast. Why don't you go in and see how you can help?" She suggests.

With a nod, I rise from the couch, placing a tender kiss on her cheek before making my way into the kitchen. As I enter, the lively banter of my mom and aunts fills the air, mid-gossip in the midst of breakfast preparations. I'm embraced by the scent of bacon and brewing of coffee. The women pause their gossip for a moment, shifting their attention to me.

"Well, look who decided to get up bright and early!" My mom exclaims, giving me a quick embrace. "Here, you take over the bacon for me. I need to get started on the pancakes," she adds, directing me to her spot at the stove. My aunts greet me with a cheerful "good morning" before seamlessly resuming their conversation with my mother.

The kitchen was bustling with activity, filled with the savory aroma of the many dishes being cooked. The Auntie's hands are kept busy as they catch up on the latest gossip and I snicker to myself as I focus on my task. The house starts to wake up as I hear my little cousins stomping down the stairs, their childish giggles over the chatter of the rest of the family.

I'm lost in my thoughts when my attention is abruptly diverted by an unexpected question from Aunt Pat, who's currently cooking the eggs.

"So, Naomi, you got a man yet?" The other ladies in the kitchen fix their gaze on me, awaiting my response. I stammer for a moment but then decide to keep it light.

“Well, no. I’m not really focused on that right now,” I reply with a shrug, hoping they’ll drop The subject. They don’t, of course.

“Come on now. You not getting any younger.” Adds my aunt Tina. My mom gives them a disapproving look as she closes the fridge.

“Y’all, leave my baby alone. It is too early for this.” Mom defends, but they roll their eyes.

“We’re just chatting, Angie. Besides, don’t you want some grandbabies?” Tina asks, Aunt Pat nodding in agreement.

"Naomi can wait for the right man as long as she needs. Better that than popping out babies without a ring," my mom subtly throws shade, her lips pursed. Aunt Pat raises an eyebrow.

“You tryna say sumn, Ang? Cus' whoever I think you're talking about has definitely gotten married since.” She says matter of factly. My mom ignores her.

"And Tina, don't start on Mimi, what about Ashanti? She still don't got a man either. And she 'bout the same age as Naomi." My mom adds.

"My Ashanti is a famous and successful model. She is busy building her life right now and taking care of her business. Besides, she's seeing someone," Aunt Tina states, turning her nose up. Sensing that my mom is about to say something else, I decide to intervene.

"Let's all calm down. I don't have a man, so what? It's not the end of the world. And, for the record, I have a successful career as well," I declare, raising my hands in defense. Aunt Tina's comment lingers in the air like a passing storm, briefly unsettling the familial calm.

"Just saying, you're almost thirty. Time to settle down. And I'd hardly call those cute little drawings you do a successful career," she persists, earning a disapproving look from my mother. I clench my jaw, determined not to let the remark sting.

"But we'll drop it," Aunt Tina announces, attempting to change the subject. The kitchen regains its lively atmosphere as they return to their culinary duties. My mother shoots me an apologetic glance, understanding the delicate nature of the topic, but I reassure her with a soft smile. I've grown accustomed to my family's concerns about my love life, even if their ideas of success differ from mine.

"Where is Teresa, anyways? And James? I saw the kids last night, but I haven't seen them." I ask, looking at my Aunt Pat.

"Oh, they're upstairs sleep. They really got a handful with them kids." She explains, shaking her head. I laugh a bit.

"Well, it seems like I'm not the only one who needed this vacation. Hopefully we will all get to relax." I let out a sigh.

"Well, don't you worry, none. Ashanti will be here any moment! I know y'all always have a good time together." Aunt Tina says. I look at her out of the side of my eyes and give a fake smile.

"Oh, I'm sure we'll have lots of fun." I respond, trying to hide the sarcasm in my voice. As they chop, stir, and laugh, I find myself wondering what's to come of this trip. My thoughts go back to what my aunts said about my love life.

Even though I'm almost thirty, I've never been one to go searching for a man, much less settle for less than I deserve. My art, my "cute little drawings," as Aunt Tina put it, is not just a hobby—it's my passion. And while it may not fit the conventional definition of success in their eyes, it brings me fulfillment and joy. And I want that when it comes to love as well.

As I plate the last pieces of bacon and turn away from the stove, my phone rings. It’s my brother Daniel.

“Hey Danny.” I greet as I walk out the kitchen.

“Naomi! You already at mamas?” He asks me.

"Yeah, flew in last night. We're about to have breakfast," I reply.

"Bet, well, I'm on my way there, about nine hours out. Been on the road for a while. Just calling to let you know I'm bringing a guest." My interest piques, and I raise my eyebrows.

“Oh? Is it a girl?” I tease. I can almost feel him rolling his eyes at me.

“No, it’s not. It’s one of my colleagues who needs a place to be for Christmas, so I offered to let him come.” Daniel explains.

“Oh, okay. Just a heads up, the aunties are already in my business so make sure you got your shit together.” I share a laugh with him and, over the sounds of the road in the background, I can barely make out a second laugh. I choose to ignore it.

“Who knows, maybe my guest can help you get your shit together if you, uh, catch my drift.” He teases. I roll my eyes in return and give a sarcastic laugh.

“This is not about to be you tryna hook me up with one of your friends again. We both know how that ended up last time.”

“I know, I know. Don’t worry, it’ll be none of that, I promise. But don’t tell anyone I’m bringing someone. I want it to be a surprise.” He tells me.

"Sure, secret's safe with me," I respond, curious as to who he could be bringing.

"Alright, I'll catch you when I get home. Hopefully, everyone will still be up." He chuckles and I laugh along as well.

"Yeah, we'll see. Drive safe. See you when you get here." I say, before ending the call. As I hang up with Daniel, I can't help but wonder about the mysterious guest he's bringing. Returning to the kitchen, I start setting up the table as the delightful aroma of breakfast fills the air. Yet, my thoughts persistently drift back to the impending surprise.

A rhythmic knock echoes through the house coming from the front door, which promptly swings open.

"I'm hereeeee!" All of us in the kitchen pause to glance toward the entrance as my cousin, Ashanti, strides in. Draped in a fur coat and chic heeled boots, she's come with numerous bags.

Smiles light up the room, and everyone rushes to welcome her with hearty hugs. I hug her as well, but it's a bit stiff. Shanti and I grew up together and we used to be very close. But somewhere along the line, she started competing with me and it put a rift between us.

Amidst the flurry of greetings, I catch a glimpse of Ashanti's perfectly styled hair and the air of confidence she exudes. Despite the awkwardness between us, I manage a genuine smile, hoping that the holiday spirit will bridge the gap that has quietly settled over the years.

As the family gathers around, Ashanti unveils a cascade of presents from her bags. "Gifts for everyone!" she announces, and the room erupts with excitement. The children eagerly approach, but she urges them to wait their turn. The tension between us momentarily fades as the joy of the holiday season takes center stage. The gifts she gives are lavish and luxurious. As everyone gets their gifts, she saves the last one for me.

"And last, but certainly not least, this is for you, Naomi." Ashanti hands me a neatly wrapped gift. I smile and open it, eager to see what is inside. While I had no specific expectations, what I got is far from what I had expected. As I tear away the paper, I find myself holding what appears to be a Dollar Tree sketchbook, lacking the quality I might have hoped for.

"Oh, a sketchbook..." I attempt to conceal my disappointment, realizing she intentionally chose a less-than-impressive gift.

"No need for thanks! I just knew you'd love it. You know, with your little artsy thing you got going on. I figured it would be a perfect gift," she says, offering a feigned smile and a hug. Despite having plenty of similar sketchbooks, I decide not to grant her any satisfaction, accepting the gift graciously.

The room is still buzzing with the cheer of the holiday festivities, and as I hold the seemingly ordinary sketchbook, I take a deep breath, reminding myself that the value lies in the gesture rather than the material itself.

I manage a polite smile, masking any traces of disappointment, and reply, "Thank you, Ashanti. It's thoughtful." She beams, seemingly content with her choice of gift, and the tension between us lingers beneath the surface.

The following hours whirl by in a flurry of activity. I spend most of the day hanging out with my younger cousins, keeping them occupied while everyone else relaxes. It's a great feeling to be home and around my family once again, no matter how old I get.

There are a couple gifts beneath the tree and the fireplace blazes brightly. Grandmother, nestled in her recliner by the fireplace, skillfully crochets a blanket and my uncles huddle around the TV to watch a football game. Mom has just set out hot chocolate for the kids, while the aunties are talking with each other in the study. Ashanti is upstairs, probably on her phone or something. Meanwhile, I find myself on the couch, sketch pad in hand, allowing my creativity to flow.

The sun has dipped below the horizon and a flurry of snow blankets the world outside. I glance toward the window, crossing my fingers that the roads won't freeze over and that Daniel and his mystery guest will arrive soon. The children steal the TV, watching some cartoons while a few of my uncles head onto the porch for a smoke. This calm is one I've longed for over the years—it gives me a sense of nostalgia, sending me back to the carefree days of my childhood.

My cousin, Teresa, who was asleep all day, comes downstairs and sits beside me. I smile as I look up from my sketches at her.

"Hey, cuz!" She says, giving me a hug.

"Hey, you slept good?" I ask, giggling a bit.

"Girl, yes, it was MUCH needed. You really don't understand how much you miss naps until you have children." She sighs heavily and I nod sympathetically.

"Yeah, I figured when I saw James come down here and not you, you were still getting your rest." I say teasingly. Teresa rolls her eyes.

"Hey, those beds are comfortable." She retorts, defending herself.

"Well, at least now you get a break, right? You got some help." Teresa sits back and nods.

"I'm so glad to just be here. It's been a while since we were able to take a trip like this."

"Something tells me that this trip is gonna be one to remember." I say, mostly to myself.

"Well, I guess we'll just have to wait and see." Teresa says, before standing up and heading to the kitchen.

As time goes by, I hear the doorbell ring again. I remain seated, engrossed in my drawing. Mom answers and her sudden loud exclamation echoes through the house as she lets the visitors in. Intrigued, I look up from my sketches, wondering who it could be. I get up and walk over to the door, first seeing my big brother standing there. He's smiling widely as he sees the shocked look on Mom's face. However, as I approach, I see who she's really screaming about.

There, standing beside Daniel on the doorstep is none other than famous actor Michael B. Jordan. My jaw drops in astonishment as I can't believe my eyes.

"Danny, what is this? You didn't tell me you were bringing a guest!" She exclaims, the unspoken emphasis being, 'You didn't tell me that you were bringing Michael B. Jordan!'

"Just thought I'd surprise you, Ma. And Michael, here, didn't have anywhere to stay for Christmas. So I invited him to stay with us for the week. Is that alright?" He asks, sporting a sheepish grin. My mother stammers for a moment, caught off guard by this surprise. She glances at Michael, who presents her a giftwrapped bottle of expensive-looking wine, flashing that gorgeous smile of his. Still in shock, she stammers as he hands her the gift.

"Merry Christmas, Mrs. Samuels. I hope I'm not intruding too much." He gives her a hug, giving her a squeeze. My mother, still processing the surprise, hugs him back, her eyes gleaming with disbelief.

"Oh, you're not intruding at all! Well, welcome to our home, Michael!" She starts as he lets go of her and stands in the doorway. "We're honored to have you join us for Christmas."

"The honor is all mine." He responds. By now, news of Michael's arrival has spread through the house. Danny brings him in, brushing snow off of himself, and I catch his eye. He winks at me knowingly as our family rushes to greet Michael and take pictures. I smile and shake my head at Daniel. It seems his "colleague" was quite the understatement. My little cousins jump excitedly at meeting the man who played Killmonger and my aunties and uncles are chatting to him loudly, talking over one another.

I watch all the commotion with a smile, when I lock eyes with Michael. He looks as if he is gonna approach me, but he's stopped by Ashanti.

"Hi, my name is Ashanti! You look like you need a drink." She says, before grabbing his arm and leading him away from the lively group. I suppress a sigh of awkward disappointment as she shoots me a mischievous glance over her shoulder. Just then, Daniel drapes an arm around my shoulder, steering me toward the study for a chat.

"Daniel!" I exclaim in a hushed tone as a cheeky grin plays on his face. He simply shrugs, not making a response. "Daniel!" I repeat, this time playfully socking him in the arm with an excited smile on my face.

"Surprise?" He offers, having anticipated my reaction.

"How the hell did you manage to get Michael Bakari Jordan to come to the Samuels household?!" I try to contain my excitement, but my words come out with an unintentional squeal. He laughs, feigning pain as he clutches his arm.

"It's like I said. He didn't have anywhere to be for Christmas. I didn't tell y'all, but this last project I was working on was with Michael and it was set to go into the Christmas holiday. Luckily, we ended up finishing early. Michael had tried to plan ahead and sent is parents and siblings on a Christmas cruise so they'd still have a good time. Well, during the project, Michael and I talked frequently and he mentioned not having anywhere to go, so I invited him to come here." He explains. I'm still in disbelief.

"This is insane. I never expected you to actually bring him. And he's staying until Christmas?"

"Yep, so he gets the full Samuels family experience for the holidays. But, you should go out and meet him yourself, Mimi. Knowing Ashanti, she's probably talking his ear off by now." He pats my shoulder, and I take a deep breath before stepping out of the study.

My heart is racing in my chest as I walk towards the kitchen. I've been a fan of his for the longest and now he's in my house. I'm trying to think of what I'd say to him. I find myself, instead of going to meet Michael, pacing around the dining room away from everyone else. I'm not usually this nervous or shy. But something about this man just makes me go crazy.

"Come on, Naomi," I say to myself, rubbing my palms on my jeans. I pace a bit more before I shake my head at my ridiculousness. With another deep breath, I head out of the dining room and towards the kitchen once more. There Michael and Ashanti are sitting at the bar, engaged in a conversation. It looks as if Ashanti is just talking about herself and her many accomplishments while showing him her photos. As I get closer, Michael glances over and notices me, giving me that famous smile again.

"Hey, Michael..." I start, and he watches me, waiting to hear what I'm gonna say. I decide to just go for it. "Mind if I steal you away for a bit?" I bite my lip, avoiding Ashanti's eyes as she glares at me. The corners of Michael's mouth turn up as the sound of my voice reaches him.

"Well, actually, Nao-"

"Yeah, I don't mind." He interrupts Ashanti as he stands, grabbing his glass . "Thanks for the drink, Ashanti." He says, but she rolls her eyes as she watches us leave. We make our way to the upstairs common area and sit on the couch. Michael sits a bit close to me, draping his arm along the back of the couch as he gets comfortable.

"You know, I was just looking for an excuse to take a break from her," He says, leaning into me. "Thanks for rescuing me." I laugh a bit at his words.

"Well, I'm happy to help. I'm always willing to answer the call of a damsel in distress." I joke, trying to break the ice. He chuckles a bit.

"It looked that bad, huh?" He replies and I nod, overexaggerating it a bit. "Well, then I guess that makes you my knight in shining armor." He grins charmingly and I have to stop myself from melting.

"Ah, where are my manners. I'm Naomi, Daniel's sister. I would've introduced myself sooner, but you seemed a bit busy." I laugh nervously, struggling to sit still under his gaze.

"So you're this troublesome Mimi I've heard so much about?" Michael questions and I freeze, blushing in embarrassment. There's no way Daniel really told him about my nickname. I regain my composure and clear my throat.

"First of all, I don't know where this troublesome idea of me came from, cuz it's definitely not true." I retort, playfully turning my nose up.

Michael grins, his eyes filled with amusement. "Hmm, I don't know, Daniel talks about you quite a bit and based on his stories, you seem pretty troublesome to me." He leans back, a playful glint in his eyes as he observes my reaction. "But don't worry, I'm all for a bit of trouble."

I chuckle, feeling a bit more at ease with his easygoing demeanor. "Well, if that's the case, I hope you're ready for the full Samuels family experience. We're a handful, but it's all in good fun."

"So, Naomi," Michael begins, his eyes gleaming with curiosity, "Aside from being a troublemaker, Daniel tells me you're an artist."

I playfully roll my eyes at the "troublemaker" label. "Oh, yes, it's my favorite thing to do. I love to draw, paint, you name it."

"What would you say inspires you?" He asks, his expression showing genuine curiosity.

"I just feel like art is my way of keeping some semblance of sanity in this chaotic world, you know what I mean?" I explain.

"Yes, I know exactly what you mean." He says, nodding his head. "It must be a nice escape from the chaos of the world to be able to express yourself through art. I love listening to music; it helps me find clarity when my thoughts get too messy."

"I completely get that. And it's just a plus that I get to do it for a living." I say with a content smile.

"So being an artist is your full-time job?" he questions, his tone laced with intrigue.

"Yeah, at first it was a hobby, but it got so successful that I was able to quit my other job and do it full-time."

"An artist, huh? Anything I might've seen?" he asks, genuinely interested. I shrug casually.

"Possibly. I do commissions for all types of people, I've got a few pieces in the Brooklyn Museum, I also run an art page on Instagram, so maybe you've seen some of my art." I pull out my phone and show him my page. He takes the phone from my hands, scrolling and raising his eyebrows in surprise.

"These are amazing," he says quietly, clearly impressed. "Do you draw from real life often? It's so realistic and…detailed" He continues, running his fingers along my phone screen lightly.

"I'm experimenting with some other media forms, but yeah, all of these I painted from real life. Some of them even went for really high prices. My most recent piece went for $3,000. But I've been working on that one for months. It was a commission for the governor of New York."

"Wow! It's amazing. You got some serious talent girl!" He praises, giving me a high five. I laugh, blushing a bit as he compliments me. He hands me my phone back and pulls his out, going to my account on his Instagram and following it. It takes everything within me not to scream.

"Thank you. Art is just a huge passion for me. I love to make other people happy with it as well." I admit. Michael notices me blushing when it sinks in he just followed my account.

"Well, you've got a new fan." He says with a sly grin, leaning against my shoulder. "I might have to use your services sometime." He says, his gaze lingering on mine.

"Yeah, I mean, I'm down to make anything you'd like." I blurt out, before realizing what I'd just said. "I... didn't mean it like that." I let out a sheepish laugh and clasp my hands together. Michael laughs as well, but he really is just enjoying himself.

"How about you make a portrait of me?" He suggests, a hint of playfulness in his tone.

"When? Right now?"

"I'll leave it up to you. We got the next couple days." He reminds me with a wink.

"Okay, but you'll have to be on your A-game this whole week. Are you up for the challenge?" I question, matching his tone.

Michael leans in, his voice low and teasing. "I'm always up for a challenge, especially if it involves spending more time with someone as captivating as you."

I feel a flush of warmth, and I playfully roll my eyes. "Flattery will get you everywhere, Mr. Jordan."

He grins, unfazed. "Is that a promise, Ms. Samuels?"

"Absolutely," I reply, laughing a bit and enjoying our banter. Even though we've just met, it feels like we've been friends for a while. Michael takes note of the easy chemistry that we have, and that chemistry sets the tone for a vacation filled with shared moments and the promise of a memorable Christmas.

"Any other hidden talents I should know about, Naomi?" He questions me. Somewhere in our conversation, we've gravitated so close on the couch that there's no space between us. Yet, the proximity feels comfortable now, and any initial nervousness has dissipated.

"Well, you'll have to find that out, won't you?" I respond with a sly smirk.

"Oh, she wants to be mysterious now?" Michael chuckles, his dimples showing as he smiles at me.

"She does indeed. As you said, we've got these next few days. You'll just have to see for yourself," I reply, glancing at the clock to realize how late it has gotten. Most of the children have already fallen asleep, and the aunts and uncles have retired to their rooms. It appears that the family is settling down for the night. Michael and I exchange glances, acknowledging the quieting atmosphere around us.

"I guess it's time for us to call it a night," Michael suggests, a yawn coming from him. I nod in agreement, feeling a sense of contentment in the air.

"Yeah, it's getting late. Goodnight, Michael." I say, rising from the couch. Michael follows my actions and stands up.

"Goodnight, Naomi." He pulls me into a brief hug, and I reciprocate, my arms instinctively wrapping around his waist. After a moment, we separate, and I turn to make my way to my room.

"Uh..." Michael utters softly. "Which way is the guest room?" He asks. I smile and chuckle.

"It's down the hall, second door on the left," I reply, pointing him in the direction.

"Ah, okay, goodnight again." He says, before walking towards his room.

"Goodnight," I say softly, heading into my bedroom and getting ready for bed. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and stare for a moment. Out of nowhere, I break out into a victory dance and squeal silently. I still cannot believe that Michael B Jordan is at my house, or that he's going to be staying here for a week, or that he might even like me! I take a deep breath and compose myself once more, worried I might wake someone.

As I settle into bed, the tranquility of the night wraps around me like a warm blanket. Reflecting on the unexpected turns of this day, I realize exactly how crazy this whole day has been. I can only hope that this isn't a dream. With a contented sigh, I drift off to sleep, eagerly anticipating the things to come these next few days.

To Be Continued...

[daniraevys]

Similarities between Ch 24-25 and current storyline of BSD:

For context, Ch 24 & 25 deal with Q introduction and Q brainwashing Atsushi, only for Dazai to return and save him.

In ch 24, Dazai and Atsushi are together when Dazai senses a threat- somebody is following them, i.e. mafia. Dazai leaves Atsushi behind alone and goes to deal with the threat.

Dazai exchanges words with Higuchi and Gin trying to figure out what their plan is.

Dazai realizes that Q(Kyuusaku) was released, and the threat was not with him, but with Atsushi whom Dazai left behind.

Dazai rushes back to save Atsushi--

Meanwhile, Atsushi's co-workers Naomi and Haruno are injured and Atsushi breaks down feeling he is responsible for it(even though it was Q's brainwashing.)

Atsushi breaks down and feels unworthy to be alive--

Dazai arrives and neutralizes the threat of Q.

Dazai saves Atsushi from the brink of despair with some advise and a questionable slap to Atsushi's face to wake him out of his downward spiral.

Current storyline:

Dazai senses the looming threat of Fyodor over the ADA and Atsushi. Dazai leaves Atsushi behind but this time with ADA and Akutagawa as backup!

Dazai mentally spars with Fyodor during his stay at jail, trying to uncover Fyodor's plans.

Dazai realizes a great calamity has been unleashed(god-like Fukuchi & Fyodor), the actual threat was not in Meursault but back at the airport in Yokohama with Atsushi and others.

Dazai is far away but trying to get back--

Meawhile, Atsushi's co-workers Tanizaki, Kunikida and Kenji are killed before him and Atsushi feels responsible for their fates as it was his fault he failed to save them!

Atsushi breaks down and accepts his impending death---

!!! It is Fyodor who arrives and neutralizes the threat of Fukuchi!!!

Fyodor arrives with a proclamation that he is here to save Atsushi...? (Atsushi who is currently vulnerable and in a downward guilt spiral!)

Ch 24-25 ends on a happier note with Atsushi finally crying and recovering from his downward spiral, he finds some support and hope as he follows Dazai and his colleagues back to the agency.

But what about the current storyline?

Because Fyodor has kinda hijacked Dazai's role as Atsushi's saviour-- saviour as in the person Atsushi relies on for hope and guidance when the situation is dire. (not that Atsushi is happy with this new saviour.)

Will Fyodor really "save" Atsushi? If so what is he actually saving Atsushi from?

And what about Dazai? Can he return in time to save Atsushi and the rest of the ADA?

As always, there are so many questions...

[seventhdoctor]

Trauma Team Artbook Character Bio Lore

...As gleaned from running artbook scans from 2014 through a sketchy machine translation in the year 2023. I won't post the exact translations for fear of mistranslations ending up reported as fact on wikis and so on, but here's the gist of what Google Translate yields.

CR-S01

Is named Erhard Muller, a fact that already made the rounds in the 2010s

His nationality is also listed as German, though he clearly spent most of his life in America

Most of his backstory isn't anything new compared to in the games, but the artbook does provide a timeline: adopted by Professor Sartre at age 9 after his parents died, enrolled in medical school at age 12 and hailed as the youngest ever to do so, age 13 when Rosalia was adopted, age 16 when the Cumberland Institute incident happened

Erhard and Rose weren't super close siblings, but got along well enough and they had happy lives until the bioterrorism attacked

The government 100% knew Erhard wasn't the culprit when they arrested him - he was the public scapegoat because they couldn't find Albert Sartre, their real person of interest. They never stopped looking for Sartre, and S01's work to reduce his sentence was a quiet compromise for the fact that they, y'know, ruined this kid's life

After learning the truth, S01 is disappointed at his father's betrayal but also chooses to take blame for Sartre's crimes and work off his sentence rather than expose Sartre as the true culprit

Not in-game lore, but according to the concept art section he was nicknamed Chris (CRS) during development. Other people will be funnier about this than I am

Maria Torres

Has the shortest bio and the least amount of new information along with Tomoe, honestly

Born in the slums

Was already at the orphanage at age 10 when Rosalia (age 3) came there

Ended up in rehab of some kind after the orphanage fire

Hank Freebird

Also doesn't have much new compared to the game, sadly

Joined the military out of a sense of justice, left out of disillusionment following John's death and used the medical knowledge he gained in the military to become an orthopedic surgeon (not that this wasn't already implied in the game)

His bio specifically calls him out for being kinda clumsy/goofy. Poor guy

Tomoe Tachibana

Honestly the only thing that's new is a bunch of names, so this is the one time I break my rule and cite a translation directly. TAKE THIS WITH A GRAIN OF SALT, IT'S STILL A MACHINE TRANSLATION

The only daughter of the Tachibana Zaibatsu, a global organization run by a family descended from the leader of the Koga Shinobi Army, Hisayori Tachibana.

Gabriel Cunningham

Nationality is listed as Great Britain. Surprise!

His wife Lisa left him with Joshua and went to her parents' six years before the game because she didn't like his lifestyle

Lisa was willing to get back together if Gabe was ever willing to talk to her properly, but as seen in the game he kept his distance. He and Lisa met occasionally over the next six years, but he never saw Joshua - which is of course why Joshua never recognized him in the game

His decision to go through with the divorce was about acceptance of his failings and a desire to do right by Joshua and Lisa

Naomi Kimishima

NOW WE'RE COOKING WITH BACKSTORY

All right, so that bit in Second Opinion where she took a Savato sample after cutting ties with Delphi and used it to bargain amnesty with Caduceus [Europe in the US version; US in the JP version]? Yeah, apparently she transported that sample by CARRYING IT IN HER OWN BODY for Caduceus to extract

Her fatal condition is a result of that, though it's already implied to be a result of GUILT in the game anyway. It was a sudden development a few years later, followed by Derek's six-month diagnosis

There's also details about her illness! Apparently her specific brand of PGS or whatever involves excess serotonin and dopamine production, which she needs meds to regulate.

It also means she's no longer able to operate on the living, which is why she transitions to forensic medicine as part of her plea deal

[Insert grimace here] I don't want to get too into this because this bit because 1) machine translation fears, 2) even perfectly translated it's not likely to be accurate to actual philosophy/terminology anyway, 3) I'm not a doctor I don't know what I'm talking about…

But the bio then starts talking about pranayama and prana, defining prana as life essence and...saying Naomi lacks it because of her condition and its effect on serotonin? I'm not entirely clear on this and I'm hesitant to say anything for sure; the main thing is that they take her illness and use the concept of prana to connect that to...

Her new ability to hear the dead! Apparently Naomi reads the prana left behind in a corpse and translates it into the person's final words via her phone; the worse the damage to the corpse (e.g., skeletonization), the less prana remains and the weaker the voice she hears is

Whether any of this relates to the Healing Touch is not mentioned. IDK man

Technically this was in S01's bio, but it relates more to Naomi: Jacob Tillman originally wanted Naomi to perform his surgery and keep it secret. Naomi was already unable to perform surgery on living people at that point, though, so S01 was Plan B

Rosalia Rossellini

Admired her big brother Erhard :(

Albert Sartre

Adopted Rosalia to study the virus in her blood (that is, he already knew about it by the time he adopted her in case that's ever a timeline question)

Additional Note

If someone with actual knowledge of Japanese corrects me and anything I've written in here, absolutely believe them over me. I'm not the translation hero anyone still in this fandom in the year 2k23 deserves, I'm just the stopgap until maybe one arrives someday.

[shinozaki-ayumi]

made my tumblr acc just so i can scroll through your page :] Thank you so much for gracing us with your art! Super surprised to see such a cool account still talk about corpse party (Ayushiki specifically, IM SO SOLD) What do you like about Ayumi and Yoshiki's dynamics: could be them as characters, the relationship between each other, their relationship with the others of the cast? Love your writing, hope this isn't a boring ask!

This is such a nice ask, not boring at all!! 😭 (I’m sorry for the sort of late response, I don’t check Tumblr that often lol). Probably very long post under the cut!

So to be honest at this point Ayumi and Yoshiki are the primary reason I’m still invested in CoPa at all :’) I’m a huge sucker for so many aspects of their dynamic:

- There’s something really compelling to me about the whole “you were the only person to show me basic decency and now I would die for you without hesitation” thing Yoshiki has going on.

- I’m actually not usually much of a “shipper” in general but I LOVE “shared trauma” ships, probably stemming from Ayushiki. I really love the concept of them being very different people (who may not have ever really interacted more beyond an unreciprocated crush!), but now they’re the only ones literally in the world who understand exactly what the other went through. Like I always felt a bit of a disconnect between the Ayumi/Yoshiki sections of the game versus the Satoshi/Naomi/Yuka sections — Ayumi and Yoshiki seemed to have so much more of an “isolated” feeling, maybe because they didn’t have the established relationships of the other group, nor did they have a “leader” figure like Satoshi? So I always imagined they’d be more drawn towards each other when it comes to processing wtf happened to them rather than processing it as a group. And that’s fun for angst purposes but also comfort purposes lol.

I think how much they contrast as characters is also so much fun to work with. Some canon, some headcanon, e.g.

- Yoshiki having a disjointed and strained family life, versus Ayumi having stronger familial ties, and both of them having to awkwardly adjust to the other’s family dynamics.

- Yoshiki living on his own and being good at cooking, cleaning, decorating, etc. versus Ayumi being a bit of a wreck at any of those things. This one is just fun because it breaks each of their stereotypes (“delinquent” is actually good at/enjoys domestic chores but the seemingly perfect straight-As student is a bit of a slob).

- In my head they’re very much a “me letting my hot witch gf do whatever she wants” ship, but more realistically I also enjoy that Yoshiki is basically Ayumi’s impulse control. She’s very self-destructive, especially post-Blood Covered, and his more cautious approach to things is a good complement to her.

In terms of their relationships with other characters:

- I’ve always liked to imagine Ayumi being quite close with Mayu, and wished we got to see that a bit more in the games. I feel like Ayumi wouldn’t really be very “into” things like makeup and fashion (I mean look at that hoodie/skirt/socks combo she wears at the convenience store in the Missing Footage OVA 😭) and I think Mayu would be the kind of friend that gives fashion advice and helps her have fun with that stuff once in a while. Plus if they were particularly close it would add a lot to Ayumi’s guilt after the events of the game which is a big part of her character development.

- Come to think of it I also like Mayu to have a friendship with YOSHIKI, purely because of that one chapter in Book of Shadows lol. They meshed so well and I love that. I think outside of the Heavenly Host scenario, Mayu would be a good wingman for him lol. She also strikes me as the type who would’ve invited him to group activities even before they all got to know him a bit better, just because she likes to give everybody a chance.

- In a perfect world I think Yuka should’ve had an innocent crush on Yoshiki instead of… yknow… I think it’s more realistic for a young girl to feel awkward/shy around her older brother’s friend. (Kedwin you will pay for your crimes)

- Yoshiki and Ohkawa’s extra chapter was so fucking good and I wish it was just part of the main story!!!! That’s another one of those relationships that probably would’ve never progressed beyond niceties had it not been for Heavenly Host.

And finally some headcanons I have about them as individuals (all assuming Blood Drive never happened):

- Yoshiki is musically inclined and plays guitar, collects vinyls, etc. I like to think he’d run a music store of some sort instead of going to college (to Ayumi’s initial disappointment, but eventually she understands that traditional schooling was never his thing lol). He gets a motorcycle at some point. He’s more of a cat person than a dog person.

- Ayumi is actually an introvert despite her tendency to take on leadership roles in school; she frequently needs alone time or just one-on-one time. She’s also 100% a gamer imo, but she doesn’t openly discuss this lol. I’m probably projecting here but I love the idea of her being a fan of classic survival horror stuff like Resident Evil, Fatal Frame, Silent Hill, etc. (but maybe having a hard time enjoying that stuff post-Heavenly Host lol).

I’m on mobile so I can’t tell quite how much of an essay this is yet but thank you for asking!!! I love talking about this stuff 🥲 Even though I’m kind of drifting away from Corpse Party as a whole I’m 100% invested in Ayumi and Yoshiki still lol.