#because i was woken up by them arguing with another patient

[strange-lamp-stranger]

i've been referred to the hospital's psych clinic ! yay !

[itisme-rosie]

-- together again; takes place before the canon events of the show. you left switzerland and by extension, beatrice, but you're back now.

cw: hurt(ish?)-comfort!! written with female!reader in mind; mentions of death / loss (unmentioned character); religious themes; reader with a family like lilith's but less intense

[ if i don't watch the last episode, warrior nun hasn't ended yet 🤩 ]

masterlist | rules

i had always known i loved to live.

it was the little disasters of the outside world - a sudden downpour of rain after a hot summer day, a damned dip in the ground i didn't notice when i was skipping down a sidewalk that had me sprawling to the ground and scraping my knee - now those moments made me feel alive, telling me about the world and beyond more than the 'spiritual journey' going on inside the school haunted by its mundane nature of routines and rules could ever teach me.

i don't think i had meant to leave at first. as much as i didn't love it there, i sort of came to terms with the fact that i'd never ever be allowed to leave - my parents were initially very firm about keeping me in there to train and eventually join the legacy the rest of the women of my family began by stepping into the OCS. until they weren't.

i don't remember much of the day i had left. i had gone to sleep after beatrice knocked on my door to greet me with a happy birthday and the next thing i know, i had been woken up and whisked away, and the OCS - the church in general, as a matter of fact, just wasn't that important to my family anymore. too much sacrifice, too much loss; i didn't need to be another notch on a board of how much we gave up.

all connection, anything that linked back to the church had been severed and i never saw them again, not even during the funeral during the week that followed (i just knew it was them who had knocked on the door, i had never heard my father sound so angry). i may have regained a bond with my family, but in doing so, i left behind the family i made for myself. i left bea. by the time i was old enough to go looking for her, beatrice wasn't where i left her.

which brings me to now.

the littler version of me would be baffled. here i was, standing in front of a convent in spain of all places - the only reason i should be in spain right now should be for a vacation for crying out loud, there wasn't any good reason for me to find myself in a place associated with a time in my life i had been trying to avoid for years.

but here i was, despite how much i vehemently argued with my parents of how 'religion and faith were and have never been my strongest suits', protesting a fate where i could potential lose myself, my identity, my life at such a young age. my mother would lament about how i had come 'round a full circle, right back in the steps of a life i was trying to escape. i would have agreed with her had i not come here on a very specific mission not even vaguely connected to re-joining the ministry.

after thanking and paying the elderly cab driver that, to the best of his abilities, told me stories of the roads and lands we drove past in broken english, i steel myself for what i would find in the old building that loomed over me and i, rightfully, felt very small, the paper that read 'the cat's cradle' with its address and a name in barely comprehensive cursive crumpled in my sweaty palm.

i must have been standing and staring for a long time, because i didn't notice the sister who had appeared seemingly out of nowhere standing beside me with a polite, practiced smile - "what brings you here?

a brillant question with a very simple answer, one that had stayed stuck in the back of my throat and the sister waited patiently for my answer.

i give her a last name first and at the confusion in her eyes (though that might have been because my voice was as quiet as a mouse), i clear my throat, "i was told i could find, erm..." i hesitate for a second, my throat goes dry and i had half a mind to turn and run. spit out excuses of a wrong turn, a wrong address, that i was a nosy, lost tourist that stumbled upon the building on google maps, god - anything!

"miss?" the sister asks softly and i assess her expression for a while - concern with a bit of apprehension behind it.

"beatrice," her name falls effortlessly from my lips, and by effortlessly i mean breathless and like it was forced up my throat and out my mouth - gutteral and rushed, "i'm looking for beatrice? i was told i could find her here?" i give her my name and the lady nods in understanding, perhaps recognizing my surname. there was some surprise she tried to hide, i roll my eyes at the thought.

"sister beatrice is indeed here," the sister smiles, "allow me to take you to her," she gestures towards the building as she takes brisks steps towards the large double doors, gesturing for me to sit on a pew at the very back, "i'll be back with her shortly - we don't get much personal visitors," she explains with a smile, hurriedly walking away to lord knows where.

i sit pin-straight, my eyes scanning the images and statues around the hall and i let out a shaky exhale. as much as i found them beautiful, they terrified me.

the sister was gone a while. my head would snap up at every set of brisk footsteps only to lower after smiling politely at the sisters who were passing by with curious eyes and i opt not to look up when i hear two sets of hurried footsteps - one stops and walks away, growing fainter the further it got and the second set walks closer towards me, until i saw a pair of shoes beside my feet and i felt very conscious of how exposed i was in a place of worship. perhaps the sundress would have been a better suited outfit for my tasks today instead of shorts and a cotton button down shirt. in my defense, the weather felt like i was about to be cooked alive right on the concrete sidewalk.

"never pegged you as the type to pray so earnestly unless you were held at gunpoint,"

i was not as steeled as i wanted to be, my heart felt like it had stopped. as much as i didn't want it to, a familiar warmth washed over me; it was so comforting that the pit of dread clawing at my stomach silenced itself for a while for the quickest moment and i laugh dryly.

"i still think that you pray enough to save the both of us from eternal damnation," i shake my head, only lifting it when she settles down beside me and even then, i keep my eyes on anything that wasn't her, "you...suit the habit better than i ever could have, beatrice," i glance at her, my lip quirking in a small smile, "that color does nothing for your complexion though,"

it was a joke made in an earnest attempt to diffuse the tension between us. she huffed out a laugh and i smile a little wider at the sound, "nice to see i can still make you laugh,"

silence. soft pitter-pattering of shoes on tile as a group of sisters walk past us.

beatrice hums softly when they've left, "it's been a while,"

"did you expect it'd be me when you heard you had a guest?"

"i was definitely hoping for a familiar face, but..." she murmurs with a resigned sigh, "truthfully, i was not expecting it'd be yours," beatrice folds her arms over her chest, "but i will not deny that you've crossed my mind over the years,"

"really?" i pick at my nails, "i honestly didn't think you'd even remember me,"

"why'd you come then?" out of the corner of my eye, i see her face me and i huff softly, rubbing my sweaty palms on the rough material of my shorts.

"...i don't know," i mumble truthfully, or rather an attempt at sounding truthful. of course i knew why i was here, of course i had a purpose in getting on a plane to spain, struggling and travelling alone to get to this place, to see her and talk to her. when i glance at her, she has that look on her face.

her lips are pursed in a straight line, jaw set, most of her face is unreadable, save her eyes - oh, god, her eyes. soft, persistently trained on me and ever-moving to hold my gaze and no matter how much i tried to avoid them, i ended up looking right back at her. there's a look that - i won't lie - i have missed. so much emotion i can't decipher, but i knew that if i looked hard enough, somewhere in that look was the reassurance that she'd always still be there, whether i choose to tell her the truth or not. beatrice sits there, waiting and expectant.

"you are still a terrible liar," she deadpans when it was clear i have no plans on telling her why i was really here.

"it is the truth," i grumble defensively "you're still so suspicious of everything i say when i'm trying to be honest."

"well, your lower lip keeps twitching,"

my eyes narrow in confusion and i huff, suddenly aware of how tense i was, "and?"

"that's your tell," beatrice says as though it is the most obvious thing in the world and she faced forward, hands folded on her lap.

"my tell? my tell could have changed, genius - we haven't spoken in -" i shrug, "5? 6 or 7 years?"

"6 years, 2 months, 11 days," bea's voice quietens.

i glance at her, also silencing myself as the tension and defensiveness ooze out of my body and i slouch against the pew with a scoff of disbelief. she remembered, she counted it down to the day, though wouldn't be surprised if she had it down to the minute, beatrice was good at remembering details like that. it was both endearing and infuriating.

"'course you remember,"

"it was 12:07 am, the morning of your 16th birthday, the day you left switzerland," bea continues to speak only to falter slightly, her voice weakens and she looks down at her lap to fiddle with her thumbs - that, to me, was her tell. her tell that she was about to start a very difficult conversation, or ask a very awkward question.

"they never told us why you left, you know," bea's voice is small, smaller than my fuzzy memories tell me she has ever sounded, even during late nights having the hardest of conversations, when we both had our hearts bared out to each other, during our secret embraces as we cried with each other she has never sounded quiet as small as she is now. i wished for nothing more than the ground to swallow me whole, "and you never came back,"

"i wished i did," i say immediately in a soft voice, "god - sorry - i really wish i did," my heart pounds painfully in my chest, "and i'm sorry i didn't, and i know that isn't enough, and no amount of grovelling and asking for your forgiveness will fix that," i swallow thickly, "we -" i second-guess what i'm about to say, clearing my throat, "- were each other's greatest friend, and regardless of that fact, you don't have to forgive me,"

it's hard to gauge her reactions when beatrice keeps her face turned away from me but i could have sworn there was an almost imperceptible look that shifts her features briefly.

"there are absolutely no excuses, beatrice," i sigh heavily and the speck on the ground by my shoe was suddenly the most interesting thing in the world, "and i've just turned your whole world upside down by showing up unannounced - jesus - sorry again - i'm so sorry, bea,"

"you still haven't told me why you left," she says a little more clearly, her stare stony as she looked right at me.

"does it matter?" i mutter, nails digging into my palms, "does it still matter bea? i'm here right now, isn't that what should be focused on?"

"you left me," bea sounds exasperated, "dare i say, you owe me an explanation? after you disappeared for years - you think i don't have questions? my own versions of why you left? my own doubts? i still don't even know what you're doing here,"

"i wanted to find you! by the time i was allowed to do things on my own, you weren't in switzerland anymore and nobody would tell me where you were - they all thought i would be a terrible influence on you -" i wince at how my voice echoed around the room and i hear her take a deep breath in and out when another trio of nuns walk past us. i shrink back into the pew with crossed arms, tucked against the corner.

"do you hate me for it?" i ask softly, "have you ever regretted being my - my friend?"

"what kind of ridiculous question is that?" is her answer, spat out like the thought was poison, the mere insinuation was a heavy boulder i just hurled at her. or maybe i was reading too much into things and this was just her regular anger, a normal amount of disdain she had for an old friend who left her behind without looking back - overthinking has always been a terrible habit of mine just as repressing how she truly felt about something was hers.

"...you know, i don't think i have it in me to hate you," my head lifts to look at her when she continues and i'm alarmed to see her eyes grow misty, "even when i really, really wanted to,"

beatrice sighs and i echo the sound, a shared sentiment between us. i also think that hating her was an impossible thought, no matter the sin she commits. my fingers drum against the wood of the pew, slowly and hesitantly reaching for her hand.

"i'm here now, bea," i whisper reassuringly, squeezing her hand tightly when she links our fingers together, "this time, i won't leave you hanging, yeah?"

"i'll hold you to that," she says weakly.

i smile softly, holding out my free hand, pinky lifted. beatrice lets out a watery laugh, sniffling before she mimics the action, locking our pinkies in some unbreakable promise and suddenly, we were back in our spot at the school in switzerland, vowing to be friends forever and ever, making plans to join the same convents, or if the Lord willed it, the same university, maybe the same apartment to live the rest and best of our lives together.

"we've got the rest of forever to catch up, and forever is a lot of time,"

[felicitysmoaksx]

Rating: Mature

Summary: Her eyes squeezed shut before she dropped her head. Borrowed time. It was meant to be her…It was meant to be-

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: Inaccurate medical procedures, and implied/references a canonical character death and in depth survivors’ guilt

Read On AO3 | Fic Playlist | Fic Playlist but Less Shippy | Want to be tagged when I post a Rheese story?

Bottled Up Feelings are Silently Screaming (You Were Breaking Down) Ch. 1

“Damn it,” Sarah dropped the clasp she had been fiddling with behind her head and clenched her shaking hands into fists. She had fallen asleep with it on and now the delicate chain was tangled in her hair.  Her eyes squeezed shut before she dropped her head. Borrowed time. It was meant to be her…It was meant to be-

“How long have you been awake?” Connor’s gruff drowsy voice appeared behind her and Sarah jolted before her eyes snapped open. She lifted her head to see him leaning against the doorframe. Bedhead mused hair and he was in nothing but his boxer briefs.

“A while. The storm woke me up.” She told him, which wasn’t a total lie. The rain pelting the roof violently kept her awake, but it was her nightmare that woke her up first.

“It’s barely four in the morning,” he yawned, moving closer to her with padded footsteps. She had been staying with him, since her reluctant release from the hospital. Ava had wanted to keep her at the hospital another three days, but Justin’s funeral was tomorrow…today technically. She wasn’t going to miss her chance to say goodbye to him. Sarah owed him so much more, (“You don’t owe me anything Sarah,” Justin’s voice rang out through her head. She ignored it.) but she could at least give him her being there for Olive, Hank, and Danny. They had lost a husband, son, and father because of her.

(“But Sarah, this wasn’t your fault.” Justin again. Even her mind made him sound annoying as he ever was. Sometimes she thought she saw him too. But she was keeping that little factoid to herself.)

[LINE BREAK]  [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK]

So when she was discharged three days ago, Connor had been there, like he had been since that first day she had woken up and every day after that. So he was there to see a four-way sibling squabble. Erin, Teddy, and Olive were on one side, arguing against Sarah, who was trying to go back to her apartment by herself. It didn’t help that Ava had said that was against advisement. At least while the bandage was over her neck. 

“You’ll need help to change it. It's too awkward of a spot for you to attempt it by yourself.” And so the argument began and when it became clear it was going nowhere, Connor quietly inserted himself and offered up his apartment and himself. 

“You spend five nights out of the week there and over half of your stuff and pillow is there anyway,” he said to her but looked at the other three too. He said it easily, like…like there was no other option because it was like they were in a relationship.

But they weren’t in a relationship. They just slept together. 

 There was that secondhand déjà vu feeling again. Especially when Sarah and Connor were packing up her hospital room with Erin and Teddy’s help. Olive and Hank were busy making the arrangements for Justin’s service. 

Until Connor was pulled away. Even though he had taken this whole week off to be with her and help her recover…another thing that made it seem like he was her boyfriend…He still got called away for the occasional special patient or in this case patients because the Cronin twins were definitely special and Sarah knew how involved he had been with their separation surgery and care since. So she did not bring up her question until he was out the door.

“You know something. I know you know something, I can see it in your eyes.” She whispered after her something was out the door. Keeping her voice down even though it was just the three of them in the room. Her childhood had been rough but growing up the way she had before and after Hank had taken them in, had taught her ears were everywhere. 

Erin pursed her lips together but said nothing as she folded the blanket the nursing staff in the ED had bought Sarah. 

“I mean, you saw the look in Hank’s eye when he left here that day. It’s the same look he had that day with Charlie.” Charlie had been heading for the bottom of the river until her pseudo-sister had begged Hank for his life.  “But when he came back later that same night that look was gone, yet he said intelligence was still looking for Bingham and that he skipped town. We all know what Hank is capable of and there is only one reason why that look would be gone if Kevin Bingham actually ‘skipped town.’” 

Her sister ignored her, soothing the blanket once it was in the duffle. Sarah found herself sighing, her pseudo-sister was always better at pressing for information than she was.

“Erin,” 

“Sarah, the most important thing is that you're safe.” Her sister told her as the oldest of three of them whirled around to face her. Her tone was filled with agitation and another emotion the curly brunette couldn’t place. So that meant Hank had- “And if Bingham somehow tries to come back, we’ll be here to protect you.” 

 So did that mean that Bingham was still out there?

“You’re answering my question, but also not answering my question by giving me two answers.” 

“Exactly,” the older woman sighed and glanced between her siblings. The emotion that Sarah couldn’t place before was still there.  “Look, intelligence was ordered to step away from the case and we didn’t. That alone is going to prompt the brass to investigate but especially since there’s been nothing from Bingham in a few days. So if and when someone comes to question you-”

“We’ll have plausible deniability because we don’t know if he’s alive or dead. Like that hypothetical cat in the box.” Teddy finished for her. Erin nodded. Sarah wanted to argue. Say that Bingham had shot her so she deserved to know if he was gone for good or not, but she knew why her pseudo-sister was being so careful. 

“I hate this,” she said in frustration and anger at everything. The use of an explicit word showing just how much all of this was affecting her. “I fucking hate this.”

“I know, and I’m sorry I can’t give you a definitive answer but it is what it is.” 

“You know though. The definitive answer?” Sarah asked. Erin didn’t look at either of her siblings. Then the brunette sighed, “Erin, I’m not asking about what happened. I’m just asking if you know what happened.”  

Then there was the faintest of nods.

[LINE BREAK]  [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK]

“What’re you thinking about?” Connor’s voice broke through her thoughts as he finished untangling her necklace from her hair. 

“Nothing,” Sarah answered softly, and when the Justin in the corner of her vision scoffed, she amended her answer, “Everything. It’s like my mind is going at a breakneck speed and when I try to focus on just one thing, it’s like this roaring fills my ears.” 

“Have you tried the sedative Dr. Lana prescribed you?” Sarah shook her head. She was a psych resident. She had prescribed sedatives to her patients before. So why did her body seize up at the thought of taking it? 

Justin’s ghost scoffed from where he now stood in the corner of Connor’s on-suite bathroom. (So it was going to be one of those nights. Where she could hear and see him.) Yeah, Yeah. Logically she knew it wasn't a weakness. Especially right now. Given everything going on in her orbit right now.  But logic wasn’t in play at the moment. It hadn’t been in the last few days. 

Still, she had tried to take the medication last night but, “I need him to change it. I read the label and it reacts negatively with my migraine medication that I took last night.”

The achy feeling of crying on and off the last few days had finally caught up to her and had settled in her head and beneath her skin, making everything feel stiff and marking the beginnings of a migraine for her. 

Her lover hummed sympathetically, resting his head against hers. 

“We could turn on the TV? Maybe that’ll help you fall back asleep? Or at the very least relax?” Sarah frowned at his offer. If they did that, Connor wouldn’t be able to sleep. Her lover had always said he had trouble falling asleep to TV because the lights flickering on and off kept him awake.

She shook her head at him. His skin like usual was warmer against hers. “You won’t be able to sleep then. I’ll be okay. I haven’t been sleeping much anyways.”  

“I know, baby. But we should at least try to get some more sleep. I know it’s going to be a difficult day for you, already. Not sleeping is just going to make it that much worse.” He murmured in her ear. Despite the new ache in her neck, from the hole in her skin, the brunette nuzzled her face into his neck. 

“Hey, have I ever told you how Dr. Downey convinced me to go into cardiothoracic surgery?” He mused in her ear quietly. Eyebrows drawing together in confusion because she didn’t understand why he was suddenly bringing this up, Sarah shook her head. 

He grabbed her hands and started to walk backwards. Back to the bedroom as he tugged her along. “Come on. I’ll tell you all about how I thought he was completely crazy at first and I was content in trauma.” 

They settled back against the mattress, under the sheets and blankets. That was a breakdown in the making when they got here that first night.

[LINE BREAK]  [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK]

When they left the hospital and made it to his apartment, she had decided to take a nap while Connor put her stuff away because he wouldn’t let her. So Sarah climbed into her side of his bed and that’s when it happened. She turned on her side because she absolutely hated sleeping on her back. Her neck sang with agony as pain radiated and pulsed through the hole. In the grand scheme of things, the breakdown seemed especially childish now. But because of the stupid hole in the side of her neck now, she couldn’t sleep on her side of the bed where her spot was. She couldn’t be pressed up against Connor like was used to. She would have to sleep on her back.

So Sarah had started crying. And not just crying, but bawling and wailing into her pillow, with Mr. Bear tucked into the bend of her arm like she was a child again. The brunette knew it was childish to cry, and had even felt silly about her fit afterward. 

But it was just another thing that stupid bullet hole had taken from her. The already gaping wound just made that much deeper. The knife or gun if you will, was dug that much farther. The bullet hole had already taken her brother and now it was taking her ease of sleeping.

Connor had stopped at the sight when he came out of the bathroom. To his credit though, he didn’t bat an eye or react negatively when she told him what was going on, and why she was so upset. Instead, her lover simply pressed a kiss to the crown of her head. 

“We’ll fix it,” he promised her in a quiet voice. That night he did fix it after he changed the bandage on her neck. With such an easy and simple solution that Sarah found herself feeling silly for not thinking of it herself. He switched sides with her. Now her pillow and Mr. Bear were on the side closest to the door, instead of being closest to the windows. 

[LINE BREAK]  [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK]

With his hand carding through her curls and caressing her cheek, he began to tell her how he thought Downey was a pothead. But he was just smoking to help ease the pain of his cancer. 

“He should’ve made brownies with it. The stuff is a lot stronger that way and it would’ve worked faster.” Sarah yawned; her legs caged one of his as she pressed farther into his side. Connor halted in his story. Then in a joking tone, he asked, “Do I need to start checking the brownies you make before I eat them?”

A snort left her mouth before she could stop it. “No, I just had one experience with pot brownies when I was ten. I didn’t know were pot brownies though, but I will say this. They made it so I barely felt my appendix scar that day. I slept right through the day before I told Erin that I borrowed her sweater and I was the reason it had a huge tear at the bottom of it”

 Connor laughed. A hearty big laugh that Sarah felt through her body. His hand reached up to cup her neck so he didn’t jostle her. Still chuckling he continued his story. Sarah didn’t necessarily fall asleep to her lover’s soothing tone, but she drifted into a state close to it. Justin’s ghost appeared in front of her as she blinked slowly, in the middle of her drifting off. “He’s good for you. He seems to know when to push you. You’re going to need that now that I’m gone.” 

Too bad, he wasn’t hers. Despite his confusing nature these last few days of acting like he was hers. Sure, she had him now. But she didn’t really have him. Not where it counted.

The roaring dulled slightly and Sarah drifted farther into that sleeping, not sleeping state and stayed that way. At least until Connor shook her shoulder a few hours later to inform her it was time to get up to get ready for the service.

[sukirichi]

earned it [04]

Gojo Satoru is a firm believer that if you work hard for it then you shall earn it. But on the other side, he’s not unfamiliar with his own sins. He also believes that there is punishment due for his sins as he’s earned it.

cw. DARK CONTENT, graphic violence, mentions of blood, explicit murder, sexual violence, angst, tw dubcon, mentions of mass murder, death threats, cheating, implications of suicide, typical mafia business + very unedited (please PLEASE read at your own discretion! if you do not wish to proceed to read because of the aforementioned warnings but want to know what happened anyway, please drop into my asks and i’ll retell it in a much less graphic version!)

chapter song. never forget you (zara larsson, mnek)

series masterlist

Death.

The stench of it reeked everywhere. Blood pooled at the ends of your dress, the warm liquid dripping from your fingers. You couldn’t see what was in front of you, not when your vision had been obscured black, painted red with everyone’s lifeless eyes staring back emptily at you and carrying an ominous message behind words that never had the chance to be spoken.

Satoru was gone.

You ran through flights of stairs as you bunched your dress up, dried blood present on your cheek. The gray cemented walls of this unknown building began to close down on you, suffocating you, trapping you – and then there he was. Your lover, your world, your everything – he stood on top of a pile of bodies, his face as grim as the deaths he’s caused, but that wasn’t what stood out from the scene. It was the fact you couldn’t recognize him anymore; the man before you was nothing else but the devil incarnate himself. Then, just as you ran his way, fingers outstretched to grasp at his shirt, Satoru disappeared.

He was gone.

A scream ripped out your throat as you scrambled for the sheets, pulling them up in a haste to shield yourself. The images were now gone, but that fear kept drumming into you, gloops of blood making its way through your room’s white exterior.

It’s not real, it’s not real – Satoru’s arms snaked over to your side, his eyes droopy from being woken up. You would’ve apologized, knowing he never really got proper sleep, but you were already wrapping your arms around yourself, gaze repeatedly darting back to the walls – to check for bodies, for blood, for death, for him.

“Hey,” Satoru drew you close to him until your head fell on his chest. Out of instinct, you flattened your ear above where his heartbeat rested. Thump thump – he was real, he was safe, alive – he wouldn’t do that. Satoru wasn’t that kind of person. You clung to him like a koala and mumbled incoherently at the skin of his neck, clutching his shirt so tight it wrinkled horribly. Satoru merely littered kisses all over the crown of your head to soothe you, although he was not free to this fear you felt; he was just as nervous for an unknown reason. “Angel, what’s wrong?”

“You-you were leaving—”

“Shh, angel, I’m not, I’m here,” he wrapped you closer to his body, the sheets still warm and smelling like him as if to add reassurance to his words. “You’re alright. I’m here, angel, it’s okay.”

“I was going to die,” you quivered. It had only been a fleeting moment when you saw it, but you were there too. Dressed in white, arms covered in lace and a crown adorning your head; it seemed as if you were meant to be on top of the bodies, and Satoru sat upon it like a throne. It transitioned from being the witness to being the victim in a minute and your chest squeezed so hard you choked out, “I was dying, baby.”

“You’re not going to die. No one’s going to hurt you, you understand?” Satoru cupped your cheeks to force you to look him in the eye. “I’m going to keep you safe no matter what. Not leaving your side, angel, that’s a promise.”

“Don’t you dare.”

“I would never do that,” he nodded before he raised your pinky. Satoru looped both your fingers and kissed the conjoined form, not once leaving your gaze the whole time. “I promise,” he whispered, foreheads touching and breaths mingling. Like one soul intertwined, you once mused, feeling yourself get lost in the depth of azure pools he harboured. “There’s nowhere to go without you anyway; you’re the greatest gift in my life. I’d do anything for you.”

“Don’t leave me. Please.”

“I won’t, angel. I never will.”

And you believed that. Like the fool you were, you really believed that.

The bank loomed over you, its mere presence impending and bringing about a wave of discomfort to you. Awkwardly, you stepped inside, hiding your face in your hair to conceal the nausea threatening to urge you to throw up. You couldn’t help but survey the entire area out of instant wariness, holding tighter to your phone.

Seeing as there was no line, you sat on the nearest open window. “Hi, uhm…I recently got transferred this money from…an old friend, you could say,” you informed with furrowed brows, fishing your phone out of your pocket as you logged into your account. The whole time, your hands turned sweaty and the phone nearly slipped from your grasp out of anxiety. The woman assisting you flashed you a sympathetic smile, patient and kind enough to listen to your small voice through the glass. “I lost contact with them so I can’t return it. I was wondering if maybe you could help me rewind the transaction?”

“Oh, we can definitely do that Ma’am, may I see?” Nodding, you handed her your phone. In an instant, the polite smile fell from her lips, altering into a nervous one the next. “Oh…” she blinked back at the digits, clearly overwhelmed from the amount of zeroes. Dropping her voice, she leaned closer to you, “Do you…do you know the account owner personally?”

“Yes,” you admitted, “Well, I used to.”

“And they wired you all this?”

“About two weeks ago, yeah.”

The employee sat there for a full minute, possibly contemplating how to go about this. It didn’t set well with you – that mysterious, almost suspicious smile she had – that you debated whether just asking for your phone back. “Excuse me for a moment. I think I should take this to the higher-ups,” she announced while scanning the bank with narrowed eyes, leaving before you could have a say in it.

The next minutes that passed had never felt more gruelling.

You sat there with a frantic heart, your jeans damp from the countless times you’ve wiped your hand on it. Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary. People came in for their own agendas, the hushed ‘inside voice’ as faint as ever, then they left. Repeat. End of conversation.

It was just another normal, boring day for everyone else – but not for you.

“Miss?” a voice pulled you away from your thoughts. A half-bald man was now standing before you, the previous employee you’d been talking to right behind him, her head ducked down. Manager, his tag read, which made sense. He gestured for you to come inside the back parts of the bank, and you gripped your purse tighter as you followed them.

The inside wasn’t that special or different from the outside. There were lesser chairs but bigger, brighter white walls. His office was located right in the middle where the female employee closed the glass doors behind you, silent and timid as she prepared you tea. Meanwhile, you sat there with your hands wrung in your lap, stomach already falling from the grim expression he wore. “About the funds, I’m afraid we can’t do anything about this transaction. While it had been transferred you, neither us nor the bank has the authorization to do anything about this. Whoever sent it to you is the only one that can either take it back or liquidize it,” he pushed his glasses back to his face, an apologetic sigh leaving his lips. “I’m afraid we can’t help you with this, Miss, we’re really sorry—”

“No!” you slammed your palms on the desk, “No, I don’t want the money, wire it back to him!”

“Miss, we already told you, it’s out of control—”

You shook your head. This wasn’t real – Satoru had to be joking! He couldn’t just give you this and disappear into thin air! In fact, you never even cared for the money; you were just hoping that maybe you’d find a way back to him if nothing but digits was the only thing left to prove he even existed. Desperation clawed its way through your throat as you fell on your knees, helpless tears streaming down your face. “Please, you have to do something, I don’t want the money, I just want him back, please! I just need to talk to him once more and he’s your client, right? Let me talk to him, I know you have contact with him, Sir, please, I’m begging you—”

“Security!” the manager hollered. The sounds of doors slamming open made you stand up straight, eyes wide at the incoming pairs of guards ready to escort you out. “It’s best you schedule a personal appointment with the account owner, Miss. We also suggest you remain on the down-low instead of causing a ruckus like this. You don’t know who’s going to be grabbing at every opportunity to take what was given to you.”

“Everything’s been taken away from me!” you argued back, walking around the desk to clasp the manager’s hand. He pulled away for a moment before you squeezed his hands, the tearing of your heart too painful to bear. You just wanted to see him. “Come on, please, I don’t care about the money, I just—”

They didn’t let you finish. Just like Satoru, just like everybody else, they discarded you to the side, treated you like you were a nobody who didn’t deserve a second chance.

“Escort her out, please.”

And just like that, your fate had been decided. No...perhaps it had been determined the moment he left, and now you walked blearily along the narrowed gaps between buildings, unable to find your way back home.

Where was home anyway? Your penthouse with Satoru? Your cramped dorm back at the university? Your empty flat that had once been a happy home with your parents before they too, left you behind with nothing but a family portrait as a memory? It was pathetic. You meant nothing. Obviously, no one valued you enough, not even Satoru who’d just given you enough to let you live comfortably for the rest of your life. But no matter how much he provided, it wasn’t what you wanted. It wouldn’t bring back the one thing you wanted most, and you fell on the rough pavement, too tired to care about the stinging of your palms.

You clutched at your heart in a debilitated attempt to soothe way your chest squeezed uncomfortably. You were literally in the middle of the nowhere, trapped between the walls that hid you in the darkness and muffled your cries.

He’d left – he really left.

He didn’t keep his promise, and your nightmare had now become reality. You had to bite down your shirt to keep the agony to yourself, nails dug so deep into your jeans it left a mark above your skin. Hours passed, maybe minutes – who knew?

The sun had gone down and the streets grew busier than before, the honking and lively bustling of the night city like background noise to you.

Your key back to the penthouse weighed heavily at your back pocket. There was still the option of just going back home, but what good would that do? Everywhere you went, you were reminded of him. There was no escaping the beautiful memories he left you with, there was no exit from his miserable dream you were forced to wake up into.

Nothing mattered anymore. You felt so lost, the motivation to find your way back depleted just like your energy. You only had your bodily instincts to thank for when your stomach grumbled, demanding to be fed and nurtured even in such a hopeless situation. It made you want to laugh – that even as your heart and soul gave up on you – your body was doing its best to keep you alive and get through the day. You heaved yourself away from the wall and wiped the dirt away from your palms, the rhythm of your feet one heavy clump next to the other.

There was a nice Chinese restaurant at the end of the street that glowed brightly, invitingly. If you could just have dinner, maybe you’d feel better.

But you never got three steps across.

A cold blade had been pressed to your neck, sinister laughter echoing from the darkness of the night. “Scream and you die, sweetheart,” a gruff voice crooned in your ear, followed by a more high-pitched, maniacal chuckles. There was two of them. Fear lit your nerves up and you scrambled to run, but this man was too strong. He didn’t even have to try too much into increasing pressure to your neck, slicing the first layers of your skin that was enough to prick both blood and tears from you. “Ah, ah, ah! Resisting won’t get you anywhere. We just want to talk, okay? No foul play needed.”

You shut your eyes in submission, too afraid to even swallow the bile rising in case the movement would push the knife further. You could only let out a weak, “What do you want from me?”

“Oh, what else?” said his accomplice, showing up in front of you with a creepy smile. He tipped his head side to the side, revealing the silver replacements of his teeth that glinted under the streetlights. “You got his hidden slush fund, didn’t you?”

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, sweetheart, you don’t need to lie, we saw you leave that bank. Plus, everyone’s been talking about it!” cheered the guy behind you, pushing you forwards with his blade finally withdrawn. You stumbled on your feet as they pointed to the nearest ATM. For a moment, you contemplated making a run for it. The ATM was only a few kilometres away from the Chinese restaurant and you could be safe if you run fast enough, but you were too obvious, the deceit written all over your face. The first guy then pressed a gun against your head, a silent reminder that you were the weaker one here. “Don’t even think about it,” he warned, “Now you’ll withdraw it little by little, okay? We just want a piece of it, a fraction of it is enough to last us a lifetime.”

Exhaling deeply, you raised your hands in surrender. “I can’t withdraw it.”

“The fuck did you say?”

“I said I can’t withdraw it! I don’t have access—”

“Bullshit, bitch, you’ve got so much of it, just give to us before we kill you,” he cocked his gun, his friend following suit and retrieving a pistol from his belt. Your lips quivered at the sight of two guns aimed at your way, but you remained firm in your spot, shaking your head at them. The man’s eyes darkened, displeased by your response. He narrowed his eyes at you before nodding to his friend.

“Fuck this man, she’s a selfish cunt. Take her phone and her belongings.”

“No, please, don’t—”

It was too late. They had pushed you on the ground, your bum throbbing from the fall. The second guy rummaged your pockets before pulling out your wallet, jaw dropping from the contents. “Fuck,” he exclaimed, flashing a Polaroid you had kept the whole time. “This you and Six Eyes?”

Your heart fell.

It was a photo of you and Satoru on your first anniversary where he’d whisked you off to a sky tower, arrogantly declaring that he’d make you experience the best date ever.

He wasn’t lying – his arrangement of fireworks and a romantic date in the sky really had been the best – and he’d snapped a picture of you then, sneakily landing a kiss on your cheek while you gasped at the display of fireworks before you.

Just seeing it felt like torture all over again, and the thief snickered at your tear stained face. “Oh, I see. You’re his whore, aren’t you? Everyone called it bullshit when word got around Six Eyes had a little angel hidden somewhere around here. I gotta say though, you are a pretty thing. Makes sense you got him pussy whipped.”

“Whoever Six eyes fucks – especially someone he liked enough to pay this much – that is fine meat, man,” the other muttered more to himself. His eyes then lit up with a thought, the smirk tugging at his lips screaming trouble. “It’d be a shame to not have a taste.”

You paled. Scrambling as much as you could with sore legs, you pushed their arms away from you. “Let go of me!” you cried out, kicking harder when they’ve discarded their guns and focused on carrying you instead. Everything muted that night except for the pounding of your heart as you struggled to get away from them, arms flailing the moment one of them yanked your shirt down to expose your bra. “Don’t fucking touch me, let go!”

It must be luck that your punch landed on his nose, a sickening crack resonating in the street. All of you remained still, with you flattening your back on the wall, arms protectively sheltering your chest and the pair staring at the other guy’s broken nose.

He winced at seeing blood on his fingers, “Oh, you’re just asking for it bitch,” he snarled, snapping his fingers to get his friend’s attention and pointing at you. “Grab her leg.”

Both of them made quick work. It all happened so fast you couldn’t tell which was who anymore. Your shirt had been ripped off; the straps of your bra tugged down to free a nipple while your arms had been knocked into the building behind you. One of them kept you immobile, their grips too strong and their bodies twice your size that you were easily overpowered. You never cried so hard in your life – not even when you realized Satoru had left – and your throat ached from how much you wept.

“Stop, no, let go of me!”

“Shut her the fuck up, bruh,” the man unzipping your jeans scowled, his fingers playing with the waistband of your underwear. You sobbed and screamed, fought hard as much as you could, but you were too weak. Too vulnerable. Too pathetic.

Maybe it was just better to let go.

Maybe it was just better to stop.

Your shoulders fell as they shimmied your jeans down your hips, each and every inch of your body no longer yours. Was this how you would die? Was this how you would finish? If so, you would’ve appreciated at least one last dinner.

You were about to close your eyes the moment you heard the sounds of a man’s belt unbuckling, too lost in your own horror that you failed to hear the screeching of tires, and neither did they. And then, like a light at the end of the tunnel, like an angel dropping from the heavens – gunshots rang through the air. Blood splattered to your cheek. Heavy bodies crunched against the ground.

He’d come back.

Except it wasn’t Satoru leaning in front of a car when you opened your eyes. The man stood a few inches shorter, blond shaggy hair falling just above his eyebrows, the ends dyed black. His body was tilted to the side, half of his weight shifted on a cane upon closer look, but you were mostly captivated in his eyes. He showed no malice intent; hell, he didn’t even spare a glance at the corpses with holes between their eyes, silently blowing the smoke away from his barrel like this was a common thing for him.

He had his eyes on you, uncaring of the fact you were half-naked before him since his attention remained on your face.

“So it’s true,” he mused, “I didn’t believe at first when they said Six Eyes really gave the notes to his girl. A commoner, no less,” he limped towards you, feline-eyes slanted to inspect you. “But nothing about you is common, is there? To get the demon to soften up…you really must be something else,” his gloved hands ran a finger down to your jaw, and you shut your eyes tight, leaning away from his touch. The man clicked his tongue at your reactions but withdrew his hand anyway, stepping a few feet away from you to give you space. “Don’t be so scared. You and I are not that different. We’re both just poor victims of facing the consequences of his actions,” he tapped his cane at your shoes, his face devoid of expression. “Stand up. You won’t get anywhere by crying. You need to learn how to fight.”

You swung the door open, ready to finally get the shoes you’ve been gushing to Naoya about for days. But you were met with nothing but a tuft of white hair, blood smattered on his cheeks, and lips crashing down onto yours. Satoru pinned you against the wall in the same manner he held you on that day he left, his kisses harsh and longing while you moaned into his mouth, legs turning into jelly.

“Angel,” he rasped into your mouth, grinding his boner to the thin material of your night gown. “I told you you’re fucking mine.”

Satoru forced his tongue past your lips and kept you close to him, his intoxicating scent tempting you to give in and enjoy it already. For a split second, you faltered, kissing him back with the love you once harboured for him, but then you blanked.

This was Satoru.

You were married to Naoya.

He’d began to leave kisses at your jawline when you pulled back, landing a sharp elbow right at his head. Satoru fell on the floor and you panted above him as you tried to make yourself decent. Fuck, that hurt like a bitch. You had to roll your shoulders back to get rid of the tension as you made the mental note to train in combat harder, pinching the bridge of your noise before you summoned the servants.

Satoru was knocked out for a solid hour. You found it funny that the infamous omnipotent Six Eyes was now sprawled all over your couch, soft snores emitting from his lips. He’d been pretty unresponsive to you so ice far, not even a budge as you iced the bruise you’d left on his face.

You sighed. His shirt was stained with blood, the pads of his knuckles matted with wounds and bruises. You couldn’t help yourself from brushing his hair away from his eyes, humming a little until his eyes cracked open. Satoru stared at the ceiling before his eyes landed on you hovering before him, your touch gentle in paradox to the heat of your gaze. “What are you doing here, Satoru?” you sighed, gesturing to the mess he had on his shirt. “Where have you been?”

“In a fight.”

“No shit,” you rolled your eyes, “You still haven’t answered my question. What are you doing here?”

“I-I don’t know. I just…I lost it for a moment and—”

“Do I want to know why?”

“It’s stupid,” he mumbled to himself and faced the couch. Even after seven years, he was still very much the petty kid at heart. You could confidently bet he was pouting right now, and you crossed your leg over the other, hiding a small smile behind your palm. “I overheard one of my men making a sleazy comment that Naoya’s wife looked like a bitch who would jump at every alpha male,” Satoru grumbled, prying for your reaction by looking across his shoulder. “I don’t know what came over me after that.”

“Did you kill them?”

“Almost,” he scrunched his nose, “Then I pictured your face. Maybe you wouldn’t want me to do that.”

“So you care about what I want now?”

Satoru shut his eyes. Of course you’d never stop bringing that up – both to your demises – since you were both a sadist who didn’t mind receiving pain every now and then. Five years of marriage with Naoya taught you to be resilient to all types of pain, the experiences and horrors you’ve lived through practically making you immune to them now. Satoru, on the other hand, didn’t seem to be on the same boat as you. He sat up, his hips flushed next to your thighs, burying his hands on his head. “Angel, about everything... are we not going to talk about what happened before?”

“Is there anything to talk about?” you deadpanned, surprising the guy who widened his eyes at you. Surely, he must be expecting a different form of hatred coming from you, but you were indifferent – numb, empty. “The past is in the past, Satoru. You know better than anyone else it’s easier to just walk away.”

“I’m really sorry.”

“For what?” you faked a smile, placing your chin on your hands while blinking up at him under innocent eyes. Naoya once told you that your attitude of being unbothered bothered a lot more people, and it was a technique you’ve loved ever since. Seeing Satoru crumble before you...nothing felt more satisfying. “For barging in here or for kissing me? Maybe both?”

“For everything,” he answered brokenly, “For all the pain I’ve put you through.”

“Do you think apologies are going to suddenly eradicate that?”

“…No.”

“Then I don’t need it,” you taunted, patting his thigh as you stood up, tying the knots of your robe safer this time. You couldn’t be bothered to wear underwear beneath them; if Satoru tried laying his hands on you again, you wouldn’t hesitate to cut his fingers off, and the plain sight of a dagger now strapped in your thigh was enough of a reminder for him. He made sure to keep his distance.

“Come with me. I’ll show you what we’ve been working on,” Satoru’s footsteps were silent as you led him past the secret doors hidden behind Naoya’s study, the room leading into an even bigger part of the house that stored most of your possessions. Satoru let out an awed gasp behind you once the lights and slight whirs of the machine buzzed through the room, chemicals bubbling from one side and little pills being packaged on the other. Your face lit up in a smile from the sheer pride of your hard work, arms extended to the side to present everything. “This is mostly where we manufacture Xenet. All of this – it’s mine. My personal little laboratory, or as Naoya calls it, my playroom,” you grinned, “I feel at peace here.”

“Making drugs?”

“Being safe,” you corrected with a roll of your eyes, “Acting like I’m normal. That gives me peace.”

Satoru was hot on your heels all the way to the main laboratory, where you’d pestered him into wearing safety gloves before entering. You donned a white coat from the blast of AC that enraged goosebumps, leading him in front of a huge clear wall that formulated Xenet’s pure creation. Stacks of purple powder lined up on layers all kept inside a cooling room, and you stepped to the side, muttering to yourself while checking today’s inventory like it was totally normal to manufacture illegal drugs inside your home.

You would’ve looked domestic if Satoru wasn’t feeling the slightest bit dizzy from the drug-coated atmosphere; one that you’d gotten resistant from.

“What brought you here?” Satoru voiced out, shaking his head to himself. He looked terribly devastated, cheeks sunken and dark circles lining his eyes. “I never thought...”

“That I’d be like you?” you finished for him. Tucking a stray strand behind your ear, you smiled at Satoru and pushed past him to list down your observations for today. “Don’t get me wrong. I’m not like Naoya; I’m not a mass murderer.”

“But you’re supporting him.”

“He keeps me safe as long as I’m useful to him,” you paused in your tracks, the spite evident in your tongue. “If you hadn’t left me, I wouldn’t have to be like this. There are thousands of people after me because you named me after that account. Other than Naoya, there’s really no other reason I’m still alive and breathing,” Satoru was speechless from your confession, which was good, since you didn’t want him chatting too much in the first place. You ignored him as you continued typing notes on your monitor, acting unaffected, but the way you punched through the keys told a different story. “This is the least I could do for him. In exchange of protection, I’ll be sharing my intelligence and give him what he wants.”

“Doesn’t it sicken you that we’re like this? That we do all this – for money, power, control – without the slightest bit of conscience?” Satoru scoffed, “You’ve been married for him a long time. I know you’re not a stranger to the fact we even enjoy this.”

You stopped your task, turning to Satoru with flared nostrils. “You know, Satoru, painting yourself as a demon to look like a victim won’t make me sympathize,” you spat out, absolutely losing it. “I don’t care what you’ve been doing before you met me. I don’t care that you killed or hurt people. I’m not the slightest bit of the angel you claim me to be because if I was as pure as that, don’t you think I would’ve stopped loving you?”

Everything crumbled to dust.

Years of convincing yourself you didn’t care anymore, years of healing yourself, years of working hard to forget him – and all crumbled to dust.

“What are you—”

“I knew!” you cut him off, “I knew everything. I’m not dumb, Satoru. No matter how much you tried to hide it back then, I saw the blood stains. I could smell the alcohol. I know drugs when I see it,” Satoru took a step back in surprise, but you kept going. Now that you’ve started it, you might as well finish it, and your eyes pricked with tears before you could stop it. “But I never cared. I was selfish – blinded by love. Back then, I told myself I didn’t care who you were because I loved you unconditionally,” You were breathing hard from finally releasing that damn fucking weight off your shoulders, your resolve breaking as you wiped your tears with the back of your hand while Satoru remained frozen. “Every night, I cried myself to sleep. I always asked myself why did it have to be you? Why did you have to be that way? Why did you have to be a monster? It broke me to no end, Satoru, but every time I tried to think of you as awful, you would hold me so close that it felt like everything was a lie,” your voice faltered, “I loved you in spite of everything you’ve done. I’m just selfish like that.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you cried, “Many times...I turned a blind eye to it. I didn’t want to force something out of you because I knew you weren’t ready, but I was always waiting, Satoru,” gesturing to the both of you, Satoru watched your frantic movements. “Did you think I didn’t mean it when I said I would love you no matter what – no matter who you might be? I meant every word of it. You didn’t have to leave me because I would’ve still left everything behind if you asked me to go with you. I don’t care anymore, I never did. I just wanted to be with you.”

“Angel...” he trailed off, debating whether to hold you or just stay put. Satoru chose the latter and ran his hands over his hair, breathing hard as he, too, wavered. “I was scared. Each time I see your face, I-I can’t help but think about losing you. It haunts me every fucking night that what if I’m not strong enough? What if I couldn’t protect you?” his voice broke, “You were the only good thing in my life. I couldn’t handle losing you just because you got too close.”

You shoved him hard. “That’s no fucking excuse! You told me – y-you told me that I made you feel strong, that I gave you hope, that I made you feel like nothing could stand in your way – so don’t stand there and fucking tell me you were scared!”

Satoru kept taking a step back from the force of your hits, and he took them all with a brave face, but it seemed that he too had reached his limit as you leered, “Don’t be a fucking coward!”

“It’s because I loved you!” Satoru gripped your wrists and tugged you to him, effectively taking the ability to speak away from you. “My whole life, I got everything I wanted and things were easy for me! I don’t know what it’s like to lose something because I had control of everything except you! I didn’t want you stuck and burdened with my sins all for the sake of something as greed!” he bellowed, his forehead connected with yours and the warmth of his body more than welcoming. “I am a greedy man, angel, I would take everything I want with no hesitation but I couldn’t do it with you. It was easier to let you go,” he mumbled, “Than to regret making you unhappy by revealing my true self. Because the way you looked at me – you loved me so much I don’t think I’m worthy of it,” Satoru trudged closer to you, almost rubbing his skin over your soft ones just to say, “I don’t deserve you.”

You pulled away from him.

You’d tore open every chance of reconciliation. And if you were to be honest? You didn’t regret it.

“You’re right,” you snickered sarcastically, “You really don’t deserve me. Here I thought maybe Naoya would be the weaker of the two of you, but he’s more of a man than you are, Satoru. Naoya never gave an excuse for anything – it didn’t matter whether he was capable of something or not – he always tried to the best of his ability. He’s not the type to give up before he’s even tried it,” You knew you were just pushing his buttons, this was much clear from how Satoru was holding himself back, but you couldn’t stop. You were unstoppable, harsh as you challenged your once lost lover who had now wound up before you once more.

“If you truly loved me and felt you didn’t deserve me, then don’t you think you should’ve tried harder?”

You wanted him to regret it. You wanted him to feel your pain a thousand times more. You wanted him to realize what he’d done wrong. But most of all, you wanted him to try harder, to redeem himself, to be worthy of a second chance.

But just like how he’d broken your heart before, Satoru did it again.

Because even after every fucking thing, the only thing he was capable of saying was: “I’m sorry, Angel.”

You’d grown too tired of apologies. But because it was him, because you loved him, then you’d fucking hear it all over again. Just try, you wanted to beg, try for me, Satoru.

“Your plans will continue to fail, Satoru,” you agonized, “You never protected me. The moment you left, my life turned to hell and I almost died way too many times for me to count. This time is no different. We’re all just pawns in the Zen’in’s game, so if you really want both of us to live, you should do your part,” Sighing, you turned away from him, just about ready to call it a night. You were too tired. “Give back the money to Naoya, and he’ll keep me safe until the end of it all. You can just go back to where you came from.”

“Naoya won’t stand a chance against Toji. It’s not his money anyway, he should give it back to his cousin—”

“And neither is it yours!”

“Don’t be fucking stupid, you see the flaw of his plans too!” Satoru gestured to your lab, to everything that you proudly claimed an effort of your hard work. “Even if I gave back everything to Naoya, it won’t stop Toji from anything! He might not kill you anymore, but he’ll definitely kill your husband and take over the mafia, or his kid, then where will you go?”

“Follow him into death like the good wife I am.”

Satoru was stunned by the lack of hesitance in your answer. “You’re serious about this,” he echoed, blinking back to process the gravity of your devotion to your husband. “Even if Toji somehow dies, it doesn’t change the fact Naoya will still proceed with plans to manipulate Japan to his will. He’s going to drug everyone until he’s at the top of the food chain. Your husband doesn’t want to be a businessman; he wants to be a god. Plus, he doesn’t care about you, he’s only using you!”

“Like I said,” you smiled weakly,  “He keeps me safe as long as I’m useful to him. Once he gets everything he wants, it’s game over.”

“No...” Satoru gritted his teeth, “No, I won’t let it happen. You’re not going anywhere; you’re not going to die!”

“So then protect me!” you shouted at his face, “Do what it is you never got to do before and protect me! I’m disposable, don’t you see? No matter what I do, no matter where I go, no matter how loyal I am to him, I am nothing! Each step I take forwards is just a step closer to my prolonged death!” you spewed word for word with so much venom Satoru felt like he was choking, but it was nothing in comparison as you fell on the floor, weeping with your fists pressed against your eyes. “If you hadn’t left me...I wouldn’t have to live fearing for my life every second. So protect me, Satoru. If you really want me to forgive you, at least save me this once.”

“I will, angel,” he promised – and how many more promises had he made, only to break them? You couldn’t be blamed for not believing him, for finding wariness in his words, for flinching a little bit as he crouched before you, cupping your cheek the same way he did before. “I promise you that. I’m never leaving, never gonna leave your side ever again.”

“You better not,” you chuckled darkly, eventually giving in from his touch.

Yes, he’d left you...yes, he’d hurt you – but until now it felt like home, even if it also conflicted with the fact this was wrong.

“My only wish is that when I die, I want to die without hating you,” you muttered with your lips hovering his, your breaths tangling and his hands finding its way to your hair. “So don’t make me hate you anymore, Satoru. Grant me peace before I leave.”

“You’re not going to die,” he closed his eyes and took the first leap of faith by grazing his lips with yours, a faint glimmer of the sweetness he once had the pleasure of savouring with each waking moment of his life. But he was stupid back then – he’d be even more stupid to not learn his lesson this time around.

“I won’t let that happen, you understand?” Satoru breathed out, “You will be safe. You will live.”

He had said it so confidently, so surely, that for a moment, you believed it. You believed maybe you’d really win this round and come out unscathed, to live, to survive – even if the chances were slim to none to begin with. For now, you didn’t want to be a mafia leader’s wife, nor did you want to be another’s broken lover. You just wanted to be someone who didn’t want to die, to find comfort in the empty promises from the same man who kept breaking and breaking them, and maybe for now, that was enough.

Without another thought, not even the image of Naoya’s smile, you let it go.

You pulled Satoru close to you and kissed him hard and deep, swallowing his surprised moan with that exact same greediness, that desperation to live. You knew the moment Naoya came back or Toji found you, everything would be game over. So for now, this was enough.

A/N. SOOOOO? THOUGHTS? THEORIESSSSS? DO WE HAVE A TEAM NAOYA HERE OR IS IT JUST ME HAHAHAHAHA

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NSFW with Chuck Grant

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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

 Charles Grant is a walking example of “acts like a badass, is actually a softie” bc BOY, IS HE HARD (lol) TO GET A READ ON. 

When you first start fucking, he doesn’t really have the instinct to stick around after and soak up the afterglow- mostly bc that’s not the dynamic that any of his previous relationships operated under, but also bc he’s like Lieb and doesn’t feel comfortable being vulnerable and potentially having you reject him. He only confidently leaves the first time, and then he judges whether to stay or not on how you look at him as he makes to get dressed after the second time you boink. If you want your space, he’ll go and be back the next day as long as you let him, but if you look even a little bit offended or hurt, he’s getting his ass back in that bed and doing whatever he can to get that sad look out of your eyes.

When he does stay, he’s down to give you whatever he can manage. 

He’s all for slowly kissing you while trailing his fingertips up and down your side, but if you just want to sleep beside him he is more than cool with it (he’ll probably still pet you a lil bit after you fall asleep bc he’s soft for you but shh shh shh don’t tell anyone). The only thing he isn’t very good at doing is pillow talk, especially right after sex. He’s too worried about saying the wrong thing and fucking up what he’s managed to establish with you. 

It isn’t until after he’s shot that he realizes how nice it feels to have someone else take care of him, and when you do so after sex it solidifies the fact that you don’t see him as a burden- you want him and you want to stay. Thank god, too. He doesn’t think he could recover without you (again, not that he’d ever tell you that)

 B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

 Your AhhhhhhHSSSSssssSSSSSs!!!!!!

Oh wow, look at you- owner of the cutest butt he’s ever seen. Can he put his hands on it? Can he squeeze it? Please please puh-lease can you let him watch it jiggle as he fucks you? If you’ve answered yes to any of these questions, then you’ve made each and every single one of his dreams come true. 

He doesn’t discriminate in his love for butts- he’s an equal-opportunity appreciator of the Majesty of the Female Ass™. If it changes size throughout your relationship, he’ll love it even more. Absolutely shameless.

On himself? He likes his legs- especially his thighs. 

He likes how strong they are, despite how much he hates Sobel for getting them to their current strength re: Currahee. But he gets over it quickly bc oh wow is he happy with their endurance while trying to keep up with you, both sexually and otherwise. The day he realized you could ride yourself to orgasm on them was the day he died and went to heaven and was sent back to sin again.

 C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

 He likes cumming on your pubic mound and then watching it slide down your pussy, thank you very much. If you guys are trying for kids or in a position where you don’t have to worry about not having kids, he’ll cum inside of you happily but oh wow he likes watching it slide down your lower lips. BONUS POINTS if he gets to catch it on his thumb and either stick it in your mouth OR circle your clit with it in order to get you off one more time.

Also, you asking him where he wants to cum on you gets him hot under the proverbial collar. 

 D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

 He’d do literally anything for you if you’d let him put his finger in your ass. He will genuinely kill an individual of your choice if you let him put his cock there instead. What a perv (jk it takes a lot of vulnerability for some people to convey their wants and desires to their partners plz remember that this has been a PSA).

The one thing he’ll never actually tell you about... EVER is that for a little while after meeting you for the first time in Georgia, he started hooking up with a girl who he didn’t realize (until much later) bore a striking resemblance to you. He’d had to end the relationship when he straight-up called out your name when he came (he was a lil drunk, just tipsy enough to slip up) and full-on booked it out of there bc not only had he pissed the girl off, but his shout had woken up her family- namely her very angry father- and barely escaped with his life.

 E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

 He’s had two lovers before you, but one of them was really experienced and patient and bless that woman. All he really has to do is learn what you like and he’ll commit it to memory. 

And you better be damn sure that he’ll use that knowledge against you/for his benefit. 

 F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

 Doggy style for all the reasons mentioned before. Or reverse cowgirl. Or normal cowgirl. His hands + your butt= dream combo.

 G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

 He can be goofy, but more than anything else he likes it when you’re goofy. Chuck can get a little too in his own head at times, which can lead to frustration/self-doubt- ESPECIALLY while recovering from his brain injury. You reminding him that sex is meant to be fun does him a huge favor, bc poor lamb will forget that every so often.

So please, nibble at his earlobe in that way that tickles him. Make a quip at the expense of one of your friends. Mock the silly sound of the moan you just let slip out.

 H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

 He’s not going to groom unless you tell him to, but he also doesn’t feel like you need to groom for him, either. Chuck’s not afraid to admit how much his personal hygiene has improved since meeting you. 

I can promise you that if you’re heavily invested in skin/hair care, he’ll probably be just as into building his own routine. 

 I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

 You always have Chuck’s full and undivided attention during sex, but he won’t necessarily show it unless he gets the guy feeling/you tell him that you want him to be. He’s going to whisper sexy things into your ear, call you a good girl (if not his good girl), and do everything in his power (at the time, at least (he can get a little distracted if you’re doing something particularly sexy)) to make sure you feel just how appreciated you are. He gets more and more confident in his PDA as your relationship progresses, but when it’s just you two? You’ll never meet a bigger sweetheart.

 J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

 Ok, so I’m deciding for you that mutual masturbation is a thing that you’re both into, m’kay? 

I'm also making the executive decision that you really enjoy watching him get himself off. You walked in on him one time, before you’d had sex, and were so stunned that you just watched in rapt attention until awkwardly backing out of the room and slamming the door shut. He’d nearly cum right then and there, and it got you extremely aroused. 

The next time you see each other, at some Georgia bar while on a pass, you offhandedly mention that you wish you hadn’t left and FROM THAT DAY ON he always lets you know when he’s feeling the urge and how you’re more than welcome to watch.

And when you do? It’s always a much shorter experience than he intends bc wow how hot are you?

 K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

 Frottage! Dry Humping! Grinding!

Allow me to explain:

In the months following D-Day, it was quickly understood that being on the frontlines meant having traditional forms of sex were no longer on the table (hehe) for you two. You’d experimented with rucking your trousers down your thighs, his thighs, both of your thighs, and each time it was a disaster (with one of the worst times ending up falling onto Tab after he’d inadvertently opened a door that Chuck had been fucking you against. Chuck had nearly thrown fists when Tab refused to look aware from your bare ass.)

So yall started grinding- quickly finding out that the bunches of fabric separating your bodies not only led to new forms of stimulation, but it also meant that you both started to utilize dirty talk. There’s something about your trembling lips at his ear, your warm whispers of ‘so good’ and ‘is this really all you need, Chuck? Me, writhing on you like this? What does that say about you, you desperate boy??’

Boy’s bought a one-way ticket to Boner City, USA.

PLUS! What a way to keep warm during Bastogne? Everyone is so jealous that they don’t have a super foxy megahot babe like you to grind upon.

 L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

 Hmm…..is saying anywhere a cop-out? Because he’s down for anywhere, he’ll follow your lead and rise to the occasion. Such a perv i s2g.

 M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

 ♫ YOOOUUUUUUUU!!!!!! ♫

You have this one eyebrow quirk you do when you’re in the mood, and it just so happens to be similar to the brow raise you give someone trying to outsmart you (which is another turn on for him- you putting some overly-confident sonofabitch back in their place after allowing them to mansplain at you for a little bit. First boner he ever got (since meeting you, obviously) came after witnessing you telling Joe Liebgott to stfu in cutting German after he’d made some off-color comment about your ass.) 

So, more often than not, he'll get a little turned on when you argue with people. Maybe even when you argue with him- who knows? not me. (i totally do, and he totally is)

 N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

 Any sort of pain play, on either of you. 

After being in genuine agony for so long while recovering from all of the surgeries, the idea of seeking any more pain out just doesn’t make sense. Chuck also doesn’t want to see you in pain- even if you’re asking him to make you feel it. You’d both suffered through the pain of hunger, frostbite, insect bites, sunburn, and just war in general (all of which had emotionally taken a toll on him bc he felt completely helpless and hated that he couldn’t do anything to take your hurt away). 

Sex and pain just doesn’t go together for him. Sorry not sorry 

 O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

 He loves having you go down on him, adores the way your eyes look up at him as if you’re challenging him to withstand your beautiful ministrations. 

He also is a big fan of going down on you, but PLEASE PLEASE PUH-LEASE ride his face. Good lord. 

He’s a sucker (teehee) for it- something about you using him like it’s all you keep him around for gets him hot. You also get this certain snarl on your lips when you are getting close that makes him lose his goddamn mind bc WOW YOU ARE SO ATTRACTIVE and HOLY SHIT YOU CHOSE HIM OF ALL PEOPLE? WOWOWOW.

 P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

 He’ll follow your lead/body language in terms of pace. Most sex sessions shift between both slow and deep as well as fast and hard anyway, so he is a fan of both. 

 Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

 A necessary evil, as far as Chuck is concerned. He’ll do them, and he’d be lying if he said that he didn’t enjoy the spontaneity of them, but he would prefer not to be rushed when he’s with you.

 R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

 He was riskier until that one time Tab caught you guys, after which he chilled out. Which you are thankful for, bc you’ve spoken with Lieb’s wife and BOY have those two gotten into some embarrassing situations bc of how risky that kid is. 

 S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

 The longest he's gone is 4 rounds (it was celebratory sex on VE day, with both of you in the best shape you'd ever been in and too high on relief to listen to your bodies. Ya'll were sore and dehydrated afterward but LORD was it worth it.

 T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

 He’d be very open to the idea of toys! On you, he’s automatically cool with it, but it does take him a little bit to get his head around the idea of using toys himself. Again, 40s/50s= somewhat repressed discussion about deviations from the traditional male sexuality- but Chuck is more willing and ready to challenge the societal norms than most. Very sexy of him.

 U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

 He always intends to tease you, but more often than not he gets so turned on that he can’t follow that intention through. You are aware of this and ABSOLUTELY weaponize this knowledge. Get it, fam. 

During day-to-day conversation, however, you both tease each other constantly. It’s been like that since you’ve met each other- always making innuendos and one-upping the other and for some reason that never even went away.

When Chuck woke up and the doctors brought you in to see him, the first thing he told you was that you looked terrible. When you’d replied with a sniff, a smile and a “guess the doc’s were full of shit when they said there was no change in your vision, huh?”- Chuck had smiled so hard it hurt.

 V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

 He’s a choked moan kind of guy. His face gets all scrunched up and his body shakes and he curses quietly under his breath (it’s vv cute and hot, FYI). he doesn’t even try and be quiet on purpose, he just seems to lose the ability to be vocal, tbh. If he’s drinking or if it’s been a hot minute since yall have gotten to do the do, he’ll probably be a bit louder. Like, maybe one loud cry of your name (see: the letter D)

It doesn’t bother him if you make sounds at all, just so you know. If anything, he likes that he’s a quiet cummer bc then he can hear any and all of your sounds.

 W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

 biting your ass while eating you out from behind is *bang* *bang* *bang* *click* *cash register noise*.

Especially if you squeal and smack at him after he does it.

 X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

 Average in all respects but OH MAN does he know how to work it to his advantage. Get ready for a wild ride, my dude. 

 Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

 Higher post-war, tbh. Chuck had had to be on bed rest for so long that he thought he may never get the chance to have sex again, so he totally makes a point to indulge in you every chance that he can get (but he’s cool if you say no, too).

But, as I mentioned in ‘risk’, he’s not going to be humping your leg in public or anything (ok but imagine if you were a dom to his sub and you made him do that holy fuck)

 Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

 He does not sleep very well, poor bb. He will be asleep but his mind will be working through all kinds of things ranging from PTSD to what shoes he wanted to wear to dinner with your parents that weekend. Good thing there’s a remedy to this ailment- your pussy sex with you!

While he can’t konk out immediately, he is able to relax. He will allow himself to get lost in the rhythm of your breathing, the weight of your hand on his arm or your arm wrapped around his middle. He will sometimes nuzzle into you as you’re drifting off to sleep, and when you press a kiss to his forehead he finally feels safe.

~ ~ ~

taglist: @sunsetmando​ @televisionboy​ @now-im-a-belieber​ @tvserie-s-world​ @holdingforgeneralhugs​ @mrseasycompany​ @itswormtrain​ @mrsalwayswrite​ @happyveday​ 

[notathingjustthere]

Not This Time

A/N: Honestly this feels incomplete and dry but I got frustrated arguing with myself lol. I wanted to post something today, because if I keep pushing it off I will never post anything so here it is. I’m trying.  

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader

Word Count: 3525

Summary: Ransom oversteps a boundary and cannot seem to accept the consequence of you ignoring him permanently.

The rude interruption that graced your morning, would leave drained for the rest of your day. Your blurred eyes slowly zeroed in on the small scraps of confetti that would eventually cover the floors of your bedroom. The popping sound had woken you up in alarm, and the frown that graced your face said enough. 

The evil faces that turned up in your bedroom were painted in glee, whiles they wished you a happy birthday in unison. “And who’s cleaning that up?” you groaned, naturally reaching for the phone on your bedside table and squinting when the brightness assaults your eyes.

It was only 9:23 in the morning, the alarm was usually set for 11:30 on your weekdays, but you tended to snooze till 12:15. You weren't a morning person and your friend Lizzie knew this when she pleaded on your behalf, arguing that 10:00 was a far more reasonable time to wake you up. Mila, your other friend had disregarded the input of course. 

As of late your weekends were more often than not reserved for sleep, this one being no different. Monday would be a holiday so the next 72 hours were intended to be spent alone in your house, at least that had been the plan. You had been feeling more dull than usual, and even your restocked liquor cabinet failed to excite you. 

The brunch set up in your backyard was very much up to par with your tastes.  It felt pointless to change so you still wore your pajamas, after washing your face and complaining about the time. Your friends had gone all out for the small gathering, hiring quite the eye candy of servers. Each one waited at the table, ready to help you girls to your seats. 

Your eyes lingered on one of the men a bit longer than intended, and the unexpected wink sent your way forced your eyes to look elsewhere. Mila jerked at your elbow, before wiggling her eyebrows suggestively at you. You had rolled your eyes before bursting out in laughter, enjoying the rest of your late morning meal with your two best girlies. It had been a while since you saw your friends, so you were glad, to say the least

Unlike you, Lizzie and Mila grew up accustomed to a lifestyle that only old money could provide. They didn't work as often as you did, which made it harder to fit into each other's schedules during the week. You did not grow up poor per se, but when compared to your friends, you could have been perceived that way. Your mother was a professor at Brown University, a fairly successful woman you thought. 

You had found your own definition for success, living comfortably and content with yourself,  as you often described it. Working in a high-level position for a growing green energy company, you took pride in your resilience. Many of your years were filled with uncertainties but finally, you had made something of yourself. The full ride to Harvard was where you met Lizzie and Mila, never expecting to develop a long-lasting relationship.

The cell you kept for personal use remained ignored after Lizzie dragged you out of bed that morning. The ringer was often placed on silent, resulting in poor communication habits with your friends. It was noon before you thought to check your device, the notification centre being flooded with messages and alerts. 

Most you assumed were birthday wishes from people you hardly talked to anymore and some that you were only associated with because of status. They meant very little to you, but the sham thankful replies you sent were only to keep face. 

A particular contact had occupied your thoughts for the past two weeks. The spam of messages you left open yet unread grew steadily. You were intent on ignoring him for as long as you felt necessary. He was not important enough to ruin your mood this weekend, or so you thought.

The last bits of sparkling wine settled nicely in your stomach, your chest feeling warm and tingly. You appreciated the quality time spent with your friends but it was time to resume back to your initial plan for the weekend. Lizzie and Mila had their own plans and intended to make your day as lively as possible. On any other day, you’d be down for a good time, but as of late you felt out the mix.

For gifts, Mila had opted for this beautiful emerald green bag from Bulgar. The serpent’s head-shaped clasp suited your corporate persona, which she admired. Lizzie gifted you a pair of Prada boots that she felt were suitable to your tastes. 

It was 6 pm when the two informed you of the private room they reserved at a club. Lizzie’s boyfriend would attend, including two other guests, you were well acquainted with. You weren’t interested at first but eventually caved in at the last minute thought of letting loose and having some fun. 

Your ringer silenced another phone call, it was his 86th one since last Friday. You were impressed with his persistence, figuring he would have given up by now. Newer messages had poured in, none of which you spared a glance until the last message he sent in.

“Fine, if this is how you wanna play it” you read. 

The spat you had gotten into with Ransom, had been your last straw. He was quite the specimen, but a prick at that. The trust fund baby had been spoiled his whole life, and couldn’t seem to handle not having his way for once. 

The relationship that brewed between you both could only be described as complicated. It had taken a lot to manage and handle the baggage he brought with him, but you both had balanced each other for a period of time. Now, you were bent on moving on, trying to convince yourself that you were over him, as he also tried to.

It was at Mila’s charity event that you would officially meet the douche, having only heard of him before. The free champagne helped soothe your nerves that night, as you often would be riddled in anxiety. It was an art exhibition, and you’d gotten roped into a conversation with the famous Harlan Thrombey, discussing a painting you knew a thing or two about. 

That was when Ransom had walked in, interrupting the conversation. You had turned away, fiddling with your glass as you patiently waited for them to finish whatever it was they were briefly discussing. Harlan turned to you, and introduced Ransom, before announcing that he would have to leave you shortly to give a speech. 

At the time Ransom didn't really catch your eye, you avoided making eye contact as you usually would with new people and had missed the way he looked at you. He wanted you in his bed for the night, and you had indulged him likewise. You were gone by morning that day, never being one to wait for the usual awkward boot out. 

Maybe you didn't notice it at first, but his face had begun popping up at your usual spots more and more. You’d run into him at a coffee shop where you often scheduled meetings with prospective clients. There were a couple more hookups here and there before he asked you out to dinner five months down the line. That was almost three years ago. 

Neither one of you talked about making the relationship official until you initiated the conversation. You had been on multiple dates, including the occasional family dinners his family hosted. You never did like attending them, but Ransom had wanted you at his side. You both spent a lot of time at each other's homes, and soon enough it wasn't just for the sex. 

He’d thought of you as his home and maybe you did too. On most days you preferred to have your space, but as of late you missed his not-so-subtle touches whenever he’d pass by you in the kitchen. 

That didn't seem to matter now, because you would never admit it out loud or to yourself. Ransom on the other hand loved being in close contact most of the time. As much as he denied the fact, you’d let him pretend the cuddling sessions during movie nights were due to the lack of space on the couch. 

You never got accustomed to Ransom’s lavish tastes. He’d been quite the spender on gifts and more times than not you insisted that he return most of his purchases. You could appreciate expensive things, but much rather make those purchases yourself. 

He only ever did demand that you keep a particular gift, one you’d almost given back after learning of its monetary value. The personalised bracelet with his and your initials on it had been your favourite. Not once did you ever take it off, and even now you still wore it after two weeks of ignoring him. 

It all started when your boss confronted you about an offer he didn’t expect you to decline so quickly. He insisted that you take your time to reconsider, and you had been confused, having never heard anything about it. You were suspicious of Ransom, almost immediately, but thought to give him the benefit of the doubt. 

At times he could be controlling, something you’d catch once in a while when you paid attention. There would be discussions about it, but oftentimes things got brushed aside as petty jealousy or mindless over-protectiveness. This time, you couldn’t and wouldn't let it slide. 

It was at dinner time when you decided to break out your thoughts and bring something up. You wanted to avoid confrontation, knowing he’d probably try to lie to your face or react in a way you were not ready to handle. He asked about your day as he usually would, and you took the chance to talk about what your boss mentioned, unaccusing of course. 

He played along with your confusion for a while, looking unimpressed as you went on. The contract would require your stay in China for two years, assisting in project management at the company’s main plant. Two years seemed long, and you could understand why the news was not exactly exciting. You had merely mentioned that you were considering the offer when he cut you off.  

“Well that's stupid, is this some kind of joke?” Ransom's response was expected but you had hoped he would show remorse more if anything. You frowned, arms folded when asking him to elaborate on how he was feeling

“I mean, you're gonna leave me for two years? What am I supposed to do, just wait for you?” 

“I would hope so, considering all that we have been through to make this work?”

“Come on, really?” he chuckled darkly, “You think I would wait?” 

“Why are you acting like this? I thought at the very least you'd pretend to be happy for me before reacting this way” you moved your hands in a way that emphasised your point. 

“Oh like you don't know that I declined the offer.”

The sigh you let out was deep. There it was, the confession you wanted out of him. You hated being lied to more than anything and were very disappointed he played along with your little act for even just a little bit. 

“I mean, but what did you expect? That I wouldn't find out about something as important to me as this?” 

“So what, I’m not as important?” he tried changing the topic.

“You know that's not what I mean, and you don't get to play the victim here. I-i don't get it with you, I’m always understanding, so why can't you return the favour”

He turned silent, which you thought was disappointing considering he had so much to say before. The anger you were trying so hard to settle down began to rear its ugly head.  It was a couple more minutes of silence before he opened his mouth to say something.

“You didn't think I’d find it suspicious that your boss was transferring with you?”

Your brows furrowed in confusion at that. Jonathan had not mentioned anything like that and you knew Ransom didn't like him, especially after a particular encounter at your office. 

He had shown up at your job unannounced a year ago to surprise you for your birthday when he saw the arrangements of flowers that decorated your office. Ransom did not look impressed at the scene, and knowing he would never partake in such a gesture you ruled him out. It wasn't until you noticed the card attached to one of the flowers that read out your boss's name.

“Great Job closing that deal, and a happy birthday! - Jonathan.”  

As if on queue the head of the department walked in with smiles, asking if you enjoyed his gifts. He rambled on about not knowing what you would like, so figured he’d get a little bit of everything.  

“She hates flowers,” Ransom had cut in without hesitation, your eyes widening at his remark. Leave it to him to make the inappropriate gesture from your boss even more awkward. 

“He’s not wrong, but I really do appreciate the sentiment. Thank you” you had given him a kind smile, trying to save face. You couldn't remember what happened after that except Jonathan leaving and your boyfriend silently fuming as he walked over to your window. 

You turned your attention to him, raising an eyebrow as if to question his behaviour. You were not angry with him, this was a rare moment where you actually appreciated his blunt tongue. Hopefully, your boss would now relent in his not-so-subtle advances. 

But that was a long time ago, and frankly, it didn't matter because he was focused on the wrong thing at hand. He had invaded your privacy then lied about it by not saying anything. 

“First of all I got this promotion because I worked my fucking ass off, I don't know what Johnathan has to do with anything.” you decided to defend yourself. Whatever it was that he was insinuating didn't matter because you weren't having it.

“Yeah, you fucking worked your ass off alright. You've got him so whipped that he even gets you flowers” 

You gasped, and it wasn't so much that the words hurt you, but rather the fact that he’d been clearly harbouring this since that day. There was not much you could do about unsolicited gifts that you never accepted in the first place. Besides, after Ransom’s visit, your boss had ceased all efforts. 

“Do you actually hear how insane that sounds? What the fuck was I supposed to do about that?” You reasoned, the calmness in your voice was long gone. 

“Quit” he was so arrogant and entitled. 

You scoffed,  “Well I’m sorry, but some of us actually have to work, to earn a living” the tone you took to, spoke well for you.

“I can take care of you, you know that” 

“That sounds nice and all, but I can’t depend on a man who’s never worked a day in his life.” There it was again, the silence.  

“You don't even seem sorry, and you've yet to apologize” the disappointment was evident on your face. 

He rubbed his hands over his face, his nose flaring up in annoyance, “I did what was best for us”  

“No, you did what was best for you” you started but had lost your train of thought. 

“You still don't fucking get it, do you? It's one thing to not want me to leave, but it's completely different when you think that you get to make decisions for me.” the words spewed out. 

“I'm tired of trying to reason with you Ransom, okay? We are done”

It wasn't even a second after, before he grabbed your arm, tightening his hold on you and yanking you towards him. “We are not done until I say we are” 

For a moment there he scared you, he had never put his hands on you like that, at least not outside the bedroom. Your stance did not falter when you yanked your arm away from him “Don't you ever put your hands on me again.”  

The initial shock had long subsided when you decided to speak for the last time. “Let me remind you, that you're that one that begs me back every single time! But not this time, I'm tired of you. T-tired of your shit, the jealousy, childishness, everything!” Those were your last words before your tearducts gave up. 

It was the first time he had ever seen you actually cry. Occasionally he would witness you shed a tear or two, like when you’d receive a wrong order of what you wanted, or something equally as petty.

 He tried to come closer in an attempt to comfort you, but you pushed him aside then turned away. He decided to walk out then and there, leaving you to deal with your own sorrows. 

You remember that day so vividly, and each time the memory replayed you did something to distract yourself. Much like you were doing right now at the club with your friends. The boost that alcohol gave you, left you chatty but numb. 

The buzz had you going for a while, completely indulged in a game of pool with Mila who was effortlessly schooling you. She could not let you win, not even on your birthday. It was the commotion at the door that drew your attention to Ransom arguing with the security guard and Lizzie's boyfriend, Dan. 

“Look dude, she doesn't want you here. Come on don't make this difficult” you didn't realise it but you had made your way towards Dan’s voice, not really processing what was going on. It was the sound of Ransom's knuckles punching Dan in his nose that woke you up from your little daze.  

“I said get out of my way” Ransom tried to push his way through.

“Ransom” you yelled out.

His head turned towards you rushing to Dan who held his nose up in pain. You apologised profusely as you checked his injury, thankful that nothing was broken or bleeding. You turned to your ex-boyfriend annoyed, ready to talk his ear off until you remembered you didn't care anymore.

“If you think this is how to get me to talk to you in good grace, then I don't know what to tell you,” you said, pointing behind you at Dan and Lizzie.

“What do you want? ”You sighed frustrated, after signalling the security guard off. He really wasn't making this easy for you. His hands had twitched before when you held Dan’s face to inspect his nose. He knew better than to make things any worse than it already was. 

“Look, so maybe, I have stuff to work on, and maybe we can both work on this”

“Mmm, you think so?” you asked rhetorically. It took him two weeks to come to this conclusion, and you noted how he did not start with apologies. He wanted to skip out on the guilt, but you wouldn't let him.

He tried to get closer to you, wanting to feel you against him and to reminisce in the sweet warmth he missed so much. You allowed him to, and for a moment you revelled in his familiar body heat as well, ignoring everything else around you. You let go of him after a while, distancing yourself to make it easier on you.

It took a lot to keep your composure, a part of you wanting him back but knew much wouldn’t change if you did. You took a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself to relay whatever decision you had made. You were right about one thing, Ransom would always beg you back. Never-ending the cycle of broken boundaries, possessiveness, and jealousy. 

“Look Ransom, I couldn’t give you another chance even if I wanted to” you sighed loudly. “I-it goes against my principles, and that's all I have right now. So please, just leave.” you pleaded.

Ransom’s eyes hardened, he wouldn’t back down. This time you noticed the speck of regret in his eyes, but to damn with his jealousy. He didn't want this to end, and he hadn’t meant for it to. 

“Come on, don't be so stubborn, Y/N. I love you, is that what you want me to say? I’ll do anything just say the word” 

You smiled with hurt in your eyes as you looked at him. The words didn't mean much to you when his actions suggested otherwise. It was the insincere note in his tone that made it easier, but maybe he had meant it. His eyes were much more expressive than his words could be, not that it changed anything.

You simply shook your head no, looking down at your hands and playing with your fingers. 

“No, you don't” 

The cheap trick at making amends, would not coax your forgiveness, not this time.

Thank you for reading :) 

A/N: My  sister requested that I put her in the credits for her lil two cents in some of the dialogue, so here she goes. 

[writting-thingz]

Request:Could I request something angsts and fluffy for Benimaru from fire force? I’m sorry I can’t give anymore detail- my mind is literally blank 😬😂

Pairing: Reader x Benimaru

Summary: You found out your younger brother is turning innocent people into infernos and use them as his army. It seems all your worst fears are coming true as you run to your closest friend and love your life for help. Can Benimaru ever forgive you for not seeing the true nature of your brother?

Warnings: ANGST… intrusive thoughts, fluff if you really squint

Forgive Me

       Once again you find yourself arguing with your younger brother. The same old song and dance since you found out what he had been occupying his time with behind your back. He seemed more agitated today.

“You’re just too naive to understand Y/n. This is for the greater good of science, of the world!!” He exclaims whilst pacing in front of his ‘throne ’.

“Killing innocents by turning them into infernos and trying to use them as your puppets!? You call THAT 'For the greater good’? What about all those people you sacrificed, HUH?!?” You cried with shaking clenched fists. Your brother shoots you an icey spine chilling glare which you mirror right back at him. “Those people are innocent! You ruined their life’s for your personal entertainment!!! You’re a horrible person, you’re a mon-” in a blink of an eye you brother is behind you. You can feel the edge of his knife pressing hard against you throat; it was almost enough to draw blood.

“Finish that word and I’ll make sure it’s your last.” He snarled. Heavy, blood-thirsty breaths blow past your ear as he spoke, “Everyone has their sins, Y/n, even the most innocent ones. Think of it as a final repent for all the wrong and evil they have done. We all have to pay for our deeds one day; I’m just being a good Samaritan and helping. Keep of this act of yours and you’ll be next.” Having finally had enough of this you grab a hold of his wrist and pull it away from your neck. You maneuvers the situation around so you’re pinning his wrist behind his back and holding his dagger to his throat. He waits patiently knowing you’ll give up. You huff and whisper angrily

“you’re sick!” You chuck the dagger at the ground and storm off. As you leave you could hear his chuckle gradually turn into maniacal and hysterical laughter.

      The wall to town was hardly quiet. The closer you came to town the louder the world seemed to be. His haunting laugh echoed as the intrusive thoughts that crowded you mind grew louder. They started low but now it was as if they were screaming.

’You let him slip through you fingers’

’You failed to notice what your little brother truly was and now the world will suffer because you!’

’What? Now you're  going to run away? Run to HIM? Are you going to tattle on your own flesh and blood?’

’You don’t think you’re actually doing the right thing do you? Sell out your little brother to a fire force soldier? Oh that’s right you don’t love your sibling he’s just monster to you.’

’What makes you think Benimaru is going to love you after you tell him the truth?’

’He’ll think you’re brother is a monster and you are too by connection’

’You’re a monster’

’He’ll try to exterminate your brother and fail then world will suffer and it will be all your fault’

’You’re a monster, it’s all your fault’

’Its all your fault, it’s all your fault, it’s all your fault’

’Monster’

’IT’S’

’ALL’

’YOUR'

’FAULT!’

“ShuuuuuUUUUUUT UUUUUPPP!” You scream as you clutch your head. You scratch your scalp as you grip your hair. “Shut up, shut up, shut up, SHUT! UP!” You shake your head as you cry out.

      A pair of screams pull you out of your head. You weren’t aware that surrounding you was total mayhem and destruction, let alone that you had made it into town. Inferno were everywhere you looked.

'What.. what’s going on?’ Your eyes widen and start to tear up.

’Oh don’t play dumb, you know who’s behind this’ the sinister thought surprised you.

“Y/NNNNN” A familiar voice calls out, no, bellows out. You just barely feel the wind blowing past your as a flaming spear skims past your cheek.

“B-Beni?” You hesitate in disbelief of the sight before you. Was the man you love axtuslly barreling towards you with ill intent? Having to dodge another flaming spear and being hit in the shoulder by a second on brought forth the harsh reality. Your heart twists and turns creating knots as you clutch your shoulder. Benimaru, the love of your life, lands a few feet ahead of you.

“How could you do this? I thought you wanted a better world for your brother!? Is this seriously how you thought you were going to get it?” He tells.  The dust from his landing settles as he interrogates you. You can see tears roll down his cheeks,  “Y/n… I have a hard time believing you did this. Tell me- …tell me it isn’t true.” The wavering tone of his voice causes a hitch in your breath and a twang of pain to hit your heart.

“I-I-” before you could explain an inferno busts through a building beside Beni. You sprint to push him out of the way of the debris. As you make your way to him you grab some nearby rubble and chuck it at the raging inferno. You chuck it as hard and with as much fire power as you could in those few seconds.

      You cough harshly as pain races throughout your body. The pain didn’t matter to you, what matters is you saved Benimaru. After getting back up he scrambles by your side. He sends a few spears into the inferno finishing it off.

“Y/n! Hey, look at me. This isn’t the time or place to be snoozing.” He pats the side of your face and your eyes flutter open.

“Beni… I know auh.. I know we aren’t amazing close as friends but I love you. I have for a while I was afraid you wouldn’t feel the same heh heh, augh…” you admit grunting from the pain occasionally. “You have to believe I would never want harm to come to you or this town. But this is my fault. Augh-” your confession is interrupted by sudden coughs. “I-.. I wasn’t a good enough older sibbling. I had no idea he was capable of something like this ack- I promise, if you give me a chance I’ll be good. I’ll work to be better and change him, I promise Beni. Please just let me talk to him. I promise I’ll help make him better, ill be good. I’ll be good… I’ll… be.. good.” A heavy weight hits your eyes as you cry your confession and plea. Although it’s fuzzy and just barely a whisper, you still manage to hear him,

“I believe you Y/n. Rest, I’ll take care of your little brother.”

*four days later*

      You had woken two days after passing out. Konro breached the news of your brother passing away during a battle against a few fire soldiers and Beni who tried to intervene when he found them. Benimaru has yet to visit you while you are recovering. You feared those awful thoughts of yours were right; that  because he knows the truth he hates you. Desperately wanting to focus on something happy you convince the medics to allow you a walk. A calming stream beside you as you remember all the times you spent there with Benimaru. The few laughs you had together, and practices you begged for to better your fire power and fighting skills. You smiled watching the ghost of a memory play out before you.

“I thought I would find you here…” Bittersweet was the feeling that hit you when your heard his voice. “I’m sorry I didn’t visit.. I was too ashamed to face you after failing to take care of you brother…” he confesses. You stop walking but don’t dare look at him, How could you? He lets out a deep breath before speaking again, “I know that I hurt you. I know that nothing I can say will change the past. But…I’m hoping that you’ll forgive me in the end. I’m hoping that I can make this right.” Tears quickly swell up in your eyes. You spin around and make eye contact with him. After a few seconds you couldn’t bare it any longer and you run at him with your arms outstretched. The two of you tumble to the ground with your arms wrapped tightly around him.

“I forgive you, just please don’t leave me… I can’t loose both things I love.” You pleaded as he sat up. He cradles you into his arms as you sob. Slowly you cry your self to sleep with you face buried in his chest. Beni places a gentle kiss on your forehead and whispers,

“I won't… I love you Y/n”

~The End~

[house-md-obsession]

Shake [James Wilson x Reader] Part Two

168 hours prior.

___ went to take another sip of her coffee, just to find that it was gone, with just a cold drop finding its way into her mouth. She sat the cup back down, and pondered running to the cafeteria to get another dose of caffeine. She felt the aching of the back of her head creep its way into her mind, reminding her of the lack of sleep from the night before. She let out a sigh, before folding the folder in which the current case file sat.

“Going to get more ‘Crack in a Cup’?” her sarcastic, lanky boss called from his desk across the room. “People don’t stop dying because you’re caffienated, ___.” He added. She restrained the urge to roll her tired eyes, taking in a deep breath before flashing him a smile.

“No, but they may die if all of us aren’t up to our best. Which includes me.” She swallowed, pushing her chair back from the table and standing up. She felt her knees ache and tired feet begin to throb the moment she put her weight on them.

“What makes you think you’re going to have the answer to this because you had coffee?”

“What makes you think you’ll get the answer if I don’t?”

And with his mouth shut, she began making her way out of his office, and out of the door. She yawned as she rifled a hand through her hair, every step radiating pain up through her calves as her exhausted body continued on. Her mind wandered in an in-cohesive thought pattern as she droned on for coffee— she might even opt for an energy drink, despite being the first person to warn everyone of how dangerous they are. ‘I’m so damn tired, I think this is an exception.’

She turned the corner, and stepped onto the elevator. She didn’t even register who else was in the cab until she heard a familiar clearing of a throat. Her tired eyes shot up, and felt a smile creep on her face.

“You look awful.” His soft voice rang out with a gentle laugh. She let out a soft laugh herself, and readjusted her lab coat. Her eyes met his soft brown ones, the brunette man with a warm smile pressed a button as the doors closed.

“Yeah, that’s what I get for working on his team.” She said, referring to the rough man with blue eyes she continuously clashed with. “I haven’t slept in two days. I feel like I’m going nuts.”

“Two days?? That kind of sleep deprivation can’t be good.”

“No shit. I can’t stop drifting off. But we are so close to cracking this case.”

“You’ve been saying that for four days, ____. Get some sleep.” He said, before feeling the elevator cab come to a gradual stop. The doors opened on the bottom floor, directly into the cafeteria.

“I forgot to press a button but I guess it worked out. Grabbing breakfast?” She asked, and he gave her a chuckle.

“Making sure you don’t OD on caffeine.”

158 hours prior.

____ felt a tap on her shoulder, during her from the sleep that she had accidentally fallen into in the chair next to the patient’s bed.

“You were right. It was an infection. Broad-spectrum antibiotics worked.” Foreman said, quietly. She sat up from the slouched position she was in epic too tired eyes a few times before looking up at the tall, handsome Black doctor with a faint smile on his face.

“Brain damage? From the uh… the fever?” She asked, feeling her mouth dry and neck sore from the position in which she’d unexpectedly and unintentionally fallen asleep in.

“If there is any, it’s minimal. He still hasn’t woken up so we’re not sure, but we will do some generalized testing once he’s awake. We didn’t see any on the MRI.” His warm voice made her feel a little better about passing out next to the sick man. “You did some really great work, ___.”

“Thanks, Foreman.”

“Go home. I’ll call you if anything changes.”

She was quick to make her way to her locker. Unable to focus on packing the bare minimum of her things up, she sat for a minute, fighting the urge to fall back asleep. It took her a little longer than it should’ve to remember her lock combination as she felt she was battling herself.

“Hey.” She heard a voice call from her right. She glances up and is greeted by the same warm, brown eyes she’d met in the elevator this morning.

“Hey, James.” She said softly, feeling her dry throat scratch at itself with every syllable.

“I’m taking you home. House demanded.” He said, and she rolled her eyes.

“Yeah right. I’ll be fine.”

“You haven’t slept for coming up on three days. Your cognitive function is that of someone who is over the legal limit of alcohol. You’re not driving. That’s a fast pass back here.” He said, and she just found the ground with her eyes. “Besides. I watched you for all of three minutes to try and remember your lock combination. Worry about your dry cleaning later and come on.”

She fought the urge to argue, holding her tongue and falling behind the tall brunette who was now in his casual clothing. ‘He must’ve gone home and come back. He could’ve just called me a cab.’

“Thanks.” She said softly, her worn eyes finding themselves struggling to keep from drifting closed.

“Yeah.” He said, flashing a warm smile, and before she could register where they were, they were already in the parking garage and she was climbing into the passenger seat of his car. She fell asleep sooner than he could pull out of the garage, and he laughed softly to himself.

‘Only she could preach the importance of sleep like it was gospel but find herself sleep-deprived.’ He thought. He glanced over to her sleeping figure, and watched as her chest rose and fell, hair disheveled from the ponytail it was falling out of.

[jamiemackenziefraser]

All That Was Fair

Chapter 30: Slipping Through My Fingers

Summary: Jamie grasps at straws for a way to ease Claire

Read on AO3

Read chp 30 on tumblr below the cut

Previous, master list, next

Chapter 30

***

Jamie didn’t remember dozing off, but he must have, because he was dragged out of sleep so abruptly it was like cold water had been dumped over his head, shooting adrenaline into his system. It wasn’t apparent at first what had woken him until Claire made a sound that clearly wasn’t the first time she’d cried out. 

It was a whimper, weak but plaintive, piercing to Jamie’s soul. He shot into wakefulness as it tore from her throat again, and he pushed himself up on his elbow, blinking sleep away so he could see her. 

She was still asleep. Her eyes were clenched tightly closed while her head jerked back and forth in an unconscious mimicry of shaking her head no. Before Jamie could even reach out to bring her out of the dream, she was shooting up in bed, eyes open and wild with panic. 

Her frantic gaze met his eyes, and her chest heaved as she drew in a sharp breath that was halfway between a gasp and a sob. 

Jamie was crushing her to his chest without a second more of hesitation. 

“It was jes’ a dream, a nighean,” he said as he held her fiercely, “it’s alright. It wasna real. I’m here.” 

He tucked her head under her chin and made shushing sounds. The puir lass butted her forehead into his chest, but instead of bringing her arms around him— which she likely lacked the strength to do— she simply leaned her whole body into him. 

“It’s alright now, my fair one,” Jamie hushed, “it wasna real. Was jes’ a nightmare.” 

She gave a tiny tilt of the head that may have been a nod, but Jamie still felt her trembling against him. His heart broke for her. Clearly whatever she had dreamt had shaken her to the core. It had been a while since she’d had a reaction with this much energy to anything, and now her body was alight with fear. 

Jamie nudged his chin down to kiss her hair and softly asked, “what were ye dreamin’, lass?” 

Her swallow was audible and her breath shuddered before she answered. 

“It was dark. Pitch black, but somehow I could see the darkness swirling. And I was ripped apart— over and over. And I—“ she inhaled sharply, “I was alone.” 

“It wasna real, mo nighean donn. Ye arena alone. I’m right here. And I’m no’ goin’ anywhere.”

Jamie hated not being able to see her face and meet her eyes when he said that, so he carefully laid her back flat on the bed. She complied, boneless and allowing him to maneuver her, but he spotted a flash of distress in her eyes. 

“Dinna fash,” he quickly soothed. He laid down next to her, bracing his head up on his elbow so he could stare down at her, but he brought his other hand to stroke her arm. “I’m here, aye?” He met her eyes this time, trying to impart the solemnity of his words, “We’re together. And that’s all that matters.” 

She let out a breath that was as much of an agreement as she could muster. 

“Just…” she said suddenly, surprising Jamie, “don’t leave my side.” 

In another show of vigor, she reached up to twine her arms around his neck and cling to him. He knew what she wanted without being told. Sliding a hand underneath her back, Jamie gently lifted her into a sitting position, careful not to put much distance between them that would upset her. When there was inevitably a bit of space between their midsections, Claire scooted closer to press herself to him. 

“Sassenach?” When she didn’t respond, he said again, “Claire? Is this alright?”

She laid her head on his shoulder, “I just want you to hold me for a bit.”

His stomach twisted, and he withdrew his hands from where they were flat on her back so that he could wrap his arms tightly around her instead. He pressed his lips to her forehead and then tucked her head underneath his chin. Tears burned at his eyes. 

“I ken ye’re scared,” he murmured into her hair, kissing it softly, “but we’ll face it together, mo ghraidh, always.” 

A shuddering breath against him was the only response. 

He wished he had more words for her— something more to say that would ease her— but even language seemed to fail him. He could only say the same thing over and over, promising to be with her. Finding himself at the end of the power of words, he relied on touch. 

Bringing a hand up, he began to stroke her hair gently. It occurred him how she seemed impossibly small. There was no trace of his vibrant, curious, and even mischievous faerie. She just clung to him, quiet, and allowed him to hold her. 

She was somehow muted. Everything about her seemed almost… serene, only in all the wrong ways. She simply didn’t have the energy to do anything more than listlessly be. 

Jamie found himself missing her, even though she was there with him at that very moment. 

Adso was meowing insistently outside, demanding that his morning meal be served, but Jamie wouldn’t dream of letting Claire go. He patiently rocked her, swaying slightly as she rested in his arms. 

“When I was young,” Jamie began to speak, not sure exactly why this story came to his head, “my older brother Willie and I wanted tae build a treehouse sae badly.” Claire nestled her head further onto his shoulder, settling in, and Jamie took that as a sign to continue. “A treehouse is jes’ a tiny room made of wood that you put high up in a tree and have tae climb up to even get into it.” The usual Claire would have definitely had something to say about that, some snarky remark about the oddities of humanity, but she was too fatigued to do anything but listen and breathe against him. “My da didna trust us wi’ the tools, and he was workin’ full time and tryin’ tae keep up wi’ the farm. We begged and pleaded for him tae jes’ let us do it ourselves, but he said it’d have tae wait until the summer. But then Murtagh showed up in our backyard one day without a word, hauling pieces of wood and his tools, and Willie and I couldna believe our eyes. We worked every afternoon for weeks. When it was finally done, Murtagh, Willie, and my Da spent a night up there— cuddled up in blankets side by side, looking out the windae at the stars and listenin’ to Da and Murtagh tell stories. I remember Willie and I fell asleep huddled together for warmth, listenin’ to the soothing sound of their voices. It was the best night.”

Jamie swallowed the lump in his throat. What he had left out was the fact that it was after Willie’s cancer diagnosis. As they’d built the treehouse, he’d watched Willie grow more and more fatigued. That night in the treehouse was one of the last perfect memories he had with his brother. 

He realized suddenly that it’d been foolish to tell such an emotional story to Claire at that moment, and as lungs clenched, he wished he could take his words back inside. Sensing his grief, she whispered, “you miss him.” 

It wasn’t a question, it was a statement— an acknowledgement of his sorrow and longing for his brother. 

“I’m sorry, I didna mean…” 

“You can’t help what you feel, Jamie, don’t apologize,” she said softly. When Jamie tilted his head down to look at her, he saw she’d lifted her face from his shoulder and there were tears glistening in her eyes. 

“My sweet lass—” he croaked. 

The reason for his telling the story— the reason why it had come to his head in the first place— hung in the air, heavy and unspoken between them. 

“I’m okay, Jamie,” she said, straightening up and blinking her brimming eyes at him, “really. I’m just… tired. I’ll be alright. I don’t want you to worry like this.” 

So she could feel that too. 

“Of course I worry for ye, mo nighean donn,” he whispered.

There was a flash of panic inside him, sudden and sharp. Jamie had lost much in his life. He’d lost his brother to cancer, his mother and newborn brother to a traumatic birth, and he’d watched his father die of a stroke. He wasn’t sure he could bear to watch Claire fade away.  

But he couldn't jump to conclusions yet— he told himself firmly as he shoved all of that as far down inside himself as he possibly could. 

“I don’t want you to worry,” Claire argued, laying her head back down on his shoulder. Stubborn as ever. Her lips brushed over it in the slightest, the barest hint of a kiss. 

“I’ll try no’ to,” he promised. 

“Let’s go down and get the cheetie his breakfast,” Claire said abruptly as another urgent meow came from outside the door, although she made no move. 

“Are ye sure?” Jamie wanted to argue, at least insist that she stay in bed, but he knew deep inside him that there was no way she’d part from him even for a moment, so he offered instead, “we can stay a while longer.” He squeezed his arms more tightly around her, holding her close. 

“As long as we go together,” she said. 

As they got up from the bed, Jamie was careful to keep an arm secured firmly around her. He abided by her residual clinginess and indulged her desire to stay pressed close to him. It was no real task; he would have her in his arms every minute of every day if he could. The length of her body pressed down his arm as she leaned slightly against him. 

The moment they made it downstairs, she sat on the couch, curling her knees to her chest under the fluffy throw blanket as Jamie went in the kitchen to grab some breakfast. 

When he returned, she was antsy for his presence. He settled down on the couch next to her, holding a simple granola bar in his hand (he didn’t want to spend time preparing anything else when she was like this). Nearly instantly, he had a lapful of faerie. She climbed up, straddling his legs, and hugged her arms around his neck so their fronts were pressed together. Nearly every inch of her was touching him, and he thought if she was physically capable, she would have made the rest of her body touch too. 

It broke his heart damn near in two to see her suffering like this. 

To be helpless to do anything. 

“Want tae watch another movie, lass?” he asked gently. He had no idea what else to suggest. She needed rest and recuperation, and he ached for her to be distracted, even if just for a short while. 

She gave a little murmur of assent but didn’t raise her head from where it was burrowed into the crook of his neck.

“Hey,” he said softly, trying to get her attention. When he didn’t receive anything in reply, he smoothed his hand up her back to gently cradle the nape of her neck. He suddenly felt the need to reassure her— or, if he was being honest, for her to reassure him. “Hey, mo ghraidh. I willna let anything happen, aye?”

“I know,” she said quietly. 

But that was a lie. Both of them knew it was. 

There was no telling what was happening, no assurance that it would pass. He was making promises he couldn’t keep. But everything inside of him had been screaming the words until he had to say them. 

“What should we watch?” Jamie changed the subject before his brain could dwell on his fears long enough for Claire to sense them. 

“You pick, Jamie,” she said. 

The way she said his name... It made his heart clench terribly. She said it like it was an endearment, only his name meant the same as “love” to her. 

Swallowing down the lump in his throat, Jamie grabbed the remote and turned on Aristocats, knowing that cat movies and shows tended to be her favorites. His faerie had a bit of an obsession now. How different from when she’d first cowered in his arms at the sight of Adso. 

But she didn’t turn around to watch the movie. She stayed facing away from it, curled into Jamie. As the movie played, he simply held her and didn’t say a word. He would do whatever she needed for the rest of his life if only it could help her feel the slightest bit better. 

As the movie went on, Claire gradually began to melt. The paradoxical mix of listlessness and clinginess seemed to dampen, and she shifted off of him so she could curl underneath a blanket with her head in his lap instead. 

His hands settled into a rhythmic stroking of her hair. In the worst type of deja vu, Jamie realized this was just like the previous day. Claire had no energy even for the simplest of demands on her body.

She needed rest— he reminded himself. There was need to fash. He’d wanted her to sleep more, hadn’t he? 

Then why was there such a pang in his chest? 

***

Claire woke feeling disoriented. Weariness had settled deep in her bones. It was like she was underwater with a hand clutching at her ankle and dragging her downward while she constantly tried to battle toward the surface. For a second, she couldn’t figure out where she was. There was something soft underneath her cheek, comfortable, and she didn’t feel a sense of panic. Only vague unease. 

The weight on her chest didn’t abate as she sat up. She hadn’t even managed to open her eyes yet, but the dizziness that struck her full force would have been debilitating if not for the darkness encasing her. She sank back down to lay on her side. 

“Claire?” 

The voice of her beloved tore her from the swirling that was taking place in her brain. Her heart skipped a beat at his voice— the first thing she felt acutely since she’d woken. She clung to that with all her might and opened her eyes. 

Jamie was hovering over her, his eyes swimming with concern and his expression so boyish in the way he looked at her. She felt the slight ease of relief looking up at him. Seeing his face always seemed to anchor her to the ground, to the solid reassurance of his strength. 

“Any better this morning?” he asked, but there was little hope in his voice. He already knew the answer. 

It broke her heart to say it to him. She hated to make him worry, but she didn’t have the strength anymore to hide from him. 

“No,” she answered, finding her voice breathy even to her own ears. 

She closed her eyes again and was surprised to feel the heat of a tear leak from one corner. 

Jamie sighed— a heartbreaking sound— and then his big hands came up to stroke her hair. His touch was comforting; it made her feel like she could breathe, even if only for a second before the waves crashed over her again and drove her head beneath the water. 

“I dinna ken what tae do,” Jamie said softly, helplessness straining his voice in a way that tore her open.

That was enough to force her into wakefulness again. 

Jamie looked haunted. His eyes were swimming with concern, the features of his beautiful face tight with anxiety. His jaw clenched as he tried to keep himself in check. Claire was too weak to sense how distraught he was, but she didn’t need to. It was painted loud and clear over every inch of his body. It killed her to see his distress and not be able to do anything about it, but she was just too tired even to try to pretend she was alright enough to reassure him. 

“I don’t know either,” her hoarse voice answered. 

His hands were moving again, coming to cradle her face between them. So warm and strong, so gentle when he touched her. Her eyes must have fallen closed again because her world narrowed down to the single point of his thumb smoothing over her cheeks. 

“Rest, mo ghraidh,” Jamie said softly. 

Her forehead tingled as he kissed it with the barest brush of lips, and then his hands disappeared from her face. 

Her eyes popped open enough to see Jamie rising from the bed to his feet. 

“What—?” she asked foggily, finding her mouth filled with fuzz, “where are you going?”

“I’ll leave ye to yer peace, sweet one,” Jamie said tenderly, returning to her side to run his hand down her face, over her shoulder, and then down the length of her body until it rested on her hip, “go back to sleep.” 

“Please don’t go,” she found herself pleading, voice airy, “please stay, just for a little while longer?” 

A whine tore from his throat as if she had struck him with a blow. He hadn’t meant to let it out, but she knew he was so pained by seeing her like this. She nearly regretted asking him until he slipped back into bed, eager, and gathered her again into his arms. He was so big, his broad chest like a wall behind her and his arms like trees that wrapped around her body. His solidness, his strength— they gave her a sense of security. Comfort like nothing else could. 

“I’m sorry,” she said, repressing a shiver that tried to wrack her body. She hated hurting him like this. She knew he was hurting because of her. But she needed him so badly it frightened her. 

“No,” he sounded devastated again, and it was killing her to keep hearing him like that, “no, mo ghraidh. Dinna say ye’re sorry. It became my job the second I decided to love ye wi’ my whole heart. I’ll always be here for ye, as ye are for me. We take turns, aye? Now it’s yer turn.” 

Jamie always knew exactly what needed to be said to assuage her guilt. The tightness in her chest eased and she relaxed back into him, feeling more grounded. His words were a reminder that this wouldn’t last forever. She would be okay— with him— and until she was better, he’d be there to hold her. 

“Go back to sleep, mo nighean donn,” Jamie said gently, “I willna leave yer side.” 

Safe in the knowledge that Jamie would keep her afloat, she let herself drift back into the murky grey depths. 

*** 

Jamie rubbed his face wearily as placed his dishes in the sink. After she’d woken up, Claire had told him to go make himself a real meal and not just throw something together as he’d been doing recently. As much as he didn’t like leaving her, he indulged his love of cooking and made an extensive chicken parmesan for himself. Before Claire, cooking used to be one of the ways he relieved stress, but he hadn’t had any time for it as of late. He certainly was stressed with watching Claire suffer from whatever was dragging her down, but of course cooking was powerless in the face of that worry. 

The thoughts consumed him, circling him like vultures. He tried to beat them back as best as he could. It had only been a few days— it was foolish to go to extremes so early. But after google searches turned up nothing helpful about sick faeries, and Claire herself had been at a loss, Jamie was left with only the theories that his own brain could come up with. Maybe she had caught a cold or some human disease that her body didn’t know how to handle? Maybe with some time and rest she would be back to her usual self. Since a doctor's visit was out of the question, Jamie had to wait and pray. 

Pray that this was nothing like watching his family get sick. 

Pray that it would pass soon. 

And try not to lose himself to the gnawing of worry inside of him. 

Once he was done cleaning up, having barely managed to eat much at all, he walked into the living room looking for Claire. 

“Mo ghraidh?” he called. 

There was no answer. Figuring she went up to the bedroom, Jamie climbed the stairs with eager energy. It wasn’t that he couldn’t stand being away from her for an hour, but… well… he didn't like being away from her for an hour. 

His face was just beginning to break into a smile at the thought of holding her again as he swung into their bedroom. 

The sight inside stole it instantly, and he froze, looking at the scene in front of him with a feeling that somehow took endearment and twisted it into anguish and sympathy. 

Claire was lying on the floor, curled up on her side under her fluffy throw blanket from downstairs. 

Jamie’s heart clenched as affection warred with soft worry. He could see her chest rising and falling in an even rhythm where her hand was clutching a fold of the blanket to her chest. She wasn’t asleep— he could tell— but she laid curled up on the floor and didn’t seem to even notice him. 

“What are ye doin’ on the floor, sweet one?” he asked quietly as he knelt down next to her. He brushed a bit of her hair back from her face as her eyes opened. 

She blinked up at him slowly for a second and allowed him to gently stroke her hair before answering. 

“I’m tired,” she breathed. 

“I ken,” he said, his heart breaking and the bubble in his chest expanding painfully, “but why no’ on the bed?” 

“‘S more comfortable here,” she answered, sounding foggy. 

Jamie was perplexed for a moment before he came to the realization. She had slept on the ground her whole life. On mossy beds and leafy piles, if not just plain grass. 

A choked sound escaped him as he thought about her laying down on the ground, seeking comfort from a more familiar surface. 

“Can I lay wi’ ye a moment?” he asked through the sympathy coating his throat. 

She nodded, just a small movement of her head sliding back and forth over the carpet. As soon as he got permission, Jamie slid behind her so he could curl up against her back. At the feeling of him pressing up behind her, Claire straightened her legs a bit so Jamie could slot his own into the curve behind her knees. He draped an arm over her middle and held her close. 

“Is this alright, mo ghraidh?” he asked softly. 

“Yes,” she breathed in barely a whisper. 

So Jamie laid there on the ground with her, holding her. He wished fervently that she could find the slightest comfort— anything to ease her suffering. He more than wished. 

“God,” he prayed silently, “dinna let her slip away from me. Please. Please.” 

It took most of his willpower to keep himself from shaking under the pressure of worry. There was already enough trembling between the two of them— Claire’s body was nearly vibrating in its distress— she didn’t need him adding to that. 

“Sleep now,” he whispered in her ear, “and dinna fash. I’m here.” 

He was there. Only he was completely powerless to do anything but lay on the floor beside her and offer what little he could in the face of… Jamie didn’t even know what to call it other than suffering. 

An idea suddenly popped into his head. 

“Hold on, mo nighean donn,” Jamie said quietly into his hair. He pressed a kiss to her temple, watching her eyelashes flutter in response, and then tore himself away before he could regret leaving her. 

He all but ran down the stairs, nearly tripping in his haste, but for the first time in a long while, he felt like there was something he could do. It was small, maybe it would be insignificant, but perhaps it could ease her. And that was something. When he had grabbed the item in question, he returned upstairs. Even as he plugged it into the wall, Claire remained motionless on the ground with her eyes closed. 

The moment he turned on the space heater, however, those beautiful golds popped open to regard it with a wide gaze. It wasn’t excitement— the puir lass was too muted to look excited— but the gravity and regard that she held for the device was present. 

Jamie made sure it was pointed right at her before he made his way back over so he could take her in his arms again, positioning her in the cocoon of his body. 

“I promised ye an hour in front of the space heater, did I no’?” he said softly, trying to keep his tone light even as he felt like his heart was being thrown into a blender.

She didn’t have a witty jab about her victory nor an attempt to swindle him for more time. Instead, she was quiet for a moment before she added, “with you.”

“Aye. With me. I wouldna forget that part of the bargain, lass. It was my favorite part.” 

He felt like he was choking. This wasn’t at all how either of them had imagined the spoils of her game. She was supposed to tug him downstairs with a smirk on those lovely lips. She was supposed to force him to hold up his end of the deal as he playfully refused to turn it on. She was supposed to turn around in his arms and kiss him only a few minutes into the offered hour. 

It was supposed to be anything but this. Anything but lying quietly on the floor while Jamie scraped the bottom of the barrel for anything he could do to help her. 

“Can ye feel it, Claire?” he couldn’t help but ask, “does it feel alright?” 

She let out a shaky breath and nodded against the carpet. “Yes,” she breathed, “Thank you, Jamie.” 

That was it. Quiet and empty, her words rattled around in Jamie’s heart until they lodged like a sprinter in the beating flesh. 

“Anything else, lass? What else can I do?” he couldn’t help but ask. Beg. Plead. 

“This is nice,” she replied quietly. 

Jamie expected some sort of gesture to go with the words. A rub of his arm. A tilt of the head behind her to smile at him. Even just a shift of her body. Claire always expressed herself so physically. Only now she was still, and nothing accompanied her words except silence. 

And Jamie was left in his helplessness. 

“Alright, a leannan. Go back to yer rest now. I willna leave until ye wake again. I promise.” 

And when the second hour passed, the space heater still buzzing in front of Claire and Jamie’s back aching, he was still there with her on the floor, praying over her in whispers.

***

a/n: Please also accept my apology that this particular chapter was the gift I had for World Outlander Day. I am offering lots of hug gifs over on my twitter (@jamiemackfraser) and here if anyone needs one. Much love to you all!

Also, next chapter will be following very shortly!

Next

[xxdragonwriterxx]

🔥Wings of Freedom (Part 1)🔥

A/N: FINALLY DONE WITH FINALS!!! Thank you everyone for being so patient and supportive while I’ve fought through the last few days of school, I really appreciate it. But I’m finally back now and with some new fics for you guys! Hope you enjoy, and stay safe out there! ❤️

Part 2 is here!

🐉 Song Recommendation: “Dear Fellow Traveller” By: Sea Wolf 🐉

~~~

Levi looked up from where he was sitting on the sofa in his lover’s office, reading a book, at the sound of (Y/N)’s pained groan. He found her trying to suppress a wince as pain shot up her spine, one of her hands reaching back to rub between her shoulder blades while she tried to focus on her work. Levi sighed. He knew she had injured herself somehow, either through training or on the last expedition, but she refused to tell him how or where she had gotten hurt. On top of that, she also refused to let him help her fix it, always batting his hands away and claiming she was fine. He knew she had a high pain tolerance, always had, but now he was getting annoyed with her. She just needed to shove down her pride and let him help her. She was human after all, she clearly wasn’t immune to pain.

Despite her obvious discomfort, (Y/N) continued to work diligently. It was rare that she was working later than him, but lately more work had been dumped on her desk per her request, her way of trying to help her superiors by lessening their load. Levi couldn’t help but feel pride swell in his chest as he watched her write. She was so hardworking, always trying to pitch in where she could. He knew she was tired, but she kept pushing herself to try to take some of the weight off the shoulders of her superiors, claiming they did way more than necessary and it should be no problem for her to help them out a little. She wasn’t even a superior officer, still only a cadet, despite her older age. It was that determination and willingness to take care of others and work hard that drew Levi to her in the first place. It was also what was about to give her a promotion to Squad Leader, one he knew she deserved as he watched her tackle the horde of papers in front of her.

Another wince of pain from her snapped him out of his thoughts and he frowned, the pride in his chest turning into concern. While he valued her work ethic, he sometimes condemned it, knowing she often failed to take care of herself in her efforts to take care of other people. Her hand was rubbing between her shoulder blades harder now, her face contorting into one of frustrated pain.

Making his decision, Levi stood up and slowly crept around behind her. He wished he could just walk up to her, bat her hand away and get to work on making her feel better, but aside from denying help from others, (Y/N) also had a slight fear of intimacy. She had always flinched or moved away when he touched her, and while she assured him it had nothing to do with him, Levi sometimes felt sick at the thought of her being uncomfortable with his touch. He had been warming her up to it, starting out with little things like brushing his fingers along her arm or holding her hand, but he had to take it slow. He had to be patient, otherwise she panicked.

(Y/N) was so engrossed in her work that she didn’t notice Levi come around until she felt a gentle brush on her arm. She tensed at first, but one look into those gorgeous silver eyes had her relaxing a bit.

“Hey Levi, I’m not keeping you up, am I? I’m almost done if you want to go to bed without me. You don’t have to stay in my office until I’m done, you can go back to your room whenever you want to.”

Levi shook his head. “You know I don’t sleep. And even if I did sleep, I wouldn’t be able to, knowing you were still working. Besides, I know you enjoy my company.”

(Y/N) smiled and chuckled at him. “Oh yes, you are just too irresistible, Levi. I think I would die right now if you left to go to sleep.”

Levi flashed her one of his rare smiles, just a subtle quirk of his lips, but (Y/N) beamed at him, making his heart beat like a drum for her. She had always had that effect on him, her smiles, laugh, and sparkling eyes scrambling his insides and setting his nerves on fire. Gods he loved this woman. It had taken him a long ass time to see it that way, needing both Erwin, Hanji, and a night of free-flowing alcohol to get him to admit it, but he did. 

He was willing to go slow for her, to move at the pace she was comfortable with, but he couldn’t wait until she would let him worship her body in the way he knew she deserved. He couldn’t wait until she would let him cuddle her close, run his fingers through her hair, kiss her until she was out of breath. He could feel his body tingling at the thought and forced himself to behave, reeling in his desire to kiss her senseless as he ran his hands down her back and over her sides.

“Well we can’t have that now can we?” Levi purred. “If you need me so much, I guess I have no choice but to stay here.”

(Y/N) hummed in response and turned back to the paperwork on her desk, not paying attention to Levi as he moved up behind her, his fingers gently trailing over the crest of her shoulder. She tensed again and Levi immediately shoved down the feelings of hurt that surfaced. He had no right to feel upset, she obviously just had a fear of intimacy, and he had to respect that.

“Levi?”

“Mmm?”

“What are you doing?”

“Helping. If I’m going to stay here, I might as well be useful.”

Levi paused to make sure she wouldn’t push him away, wanting nothing more than for her to be completely comfortable, before flattening his hand a little, allowing his touch to expand from just the tips of his fingers to the edge of his palm. She was still tense, but she didn’t move to push him away, instead going back to the papers in front of her, albeit working at a much slower pace now.

“Are you okay with this?” Levi asked softly, using his thumb to gently rub her shoulder.

(Y/N)’s heart melted. This man was so perfect. She knew it was hard on him, seeing her flinch away from him when he tried to touch her, knew he struggled with his self esteem, especially when all his life people have been afraid of him, only seeing him as a cold-hearted killing machine. She just couldn’t help it, her background rising up to tear at her confidence. She knew he was nothing like the people she used to live with, but that didn’t change the fact that she felt nervous whenever his skin made contact with hers. She wished so desperately that she could embrace his somewhat limited affection without pause. She wished she could accept his advances and hold him close while he stroked her hair or her back. She wanted all of those things, yearned for them, and yet she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Not yet, at least.

“Levi, what’re you doing?” (Y/N) asked again, taking a deep shuddering breath as she shoved the memories of pain and horror to the back of her mind.

She hated it but she couldn’t help the slight sigh of relief she felt when he took in the underlying meaning of her words and lifted his hand off of her. Then she felt horrible. She bowed her head and felt the tears surface. She knew he deserved to know, she wanted to tell him so badly why she was so skittish around him, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She knew it was selfish but she couldn’t bear the thought of losing him and she just knew that when he found out, there would be no stopping him from leaving her immediately. He would never want to be around her ever again if he discovered the real (Y/N). The monster. The freak.

“Hey, I’m sorry I made you feel uncomfortable, I just noticed that your back was killing you, so I wanted to give you a massage to release the tension. Please don’t cry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Levi said, his words only wrenching her heart more. He really didn’t deserve this, just as she didn’t deserve him.

“I’m not scared of you, Levi, I promise. I’m crying because I know you’re just trying to be nice and comfort me and make me feel good but I still can’t get over my stupid issues with touch and it’s killing me not to be able to feel you against me without freaking out. You’re always so kind to me, so gentle, so sweet, and I’m never able to reward you for being patient and amazing. I’m so sorry, Levi.”

“Look at me, (Y/N),” Levi said, the command in his voice making her meet his gaze despite the urge to look anywhere but at him. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I know you're trying, and that’s good enough for me. I will go at any pace you are comfortable with, alright? I just wanted to make sure you felt okay. We have that expedition coming up and the last thing I want is for you to get killed out there because your back is fucked up.”

(Y/N) sniffled and nodded at him, a watery smile making its way to her face as she looked at the man she loved more than anything. They had only been together for six months, but she already knew that this man was perfect for her. He had been nothing but the best, patiently waiting for her to get comfortable. Levi nodded once and stared at her for a moment longer, concern swirling in his grey hues, before he stood and went back to reading his book on the couch.

(Y/N) went back to her work, but she made a silent promise to both Levi and herself that she would try harder, for both of them, to get over the horrors of her past. They both deserved it, and she wanted it more than anything. Even if it meant divulging her secret, she would do it for them.

______________________________

(Y/N) could feel Levi’s eyes on her as she winced again, forcing down the urge to rub her back. She had still been in obvious pain when she had woken up that morning, her back hunched over as she tried to arch away from the aching in between her shoulder blades, so much so that Levi had tried to bench her from the mission. (Y/N) had put her foot down on that one, arguing with him all the way out to the stable, until he had finally dropped it as she mounted her horse. 

The pain was a problem, she knew that, but she also knew that this mission was going to require all hands on deck. Apparently, some more advanced abnormals had been spotted outside of the gates, ones that knew how to climb, and so they were tasked with going out to find and kill them if necessary. She knew Hanji wanted to study them, but the safety of the other soldiers would have to come first. It had even been announced that the Garrison would be accompanying them, doubling their numbers to increase their chances of success. It was all bullshit to (Y/N), the Garrison soldiers didn’t know how to really fight, having spent their whole lives pissing themselves behind the walls while the Survey Corps went outside to fight for humanity, but she couldn’t argue with the Prime Commander.

They were lined up in front of the gate, waiting for the signal to move out, and she just knew Levi was watching her like a hawk as another pang of heat stabbing her back had her biting her lip. Maybe she shouldn’t have come. It would’ve killed her to stay behind as her comrades fought and died for their cause without her, but now she wondered if that would’ve been a better plan. Not only was the pain getting nearly intolerable, she just knew that Levi would be watching out for her the entire time, at least, more than usual, and it was not a good idea for Humanity’s Strongest to be distracted on an expedition.

She turned around and found his eyes on her just as she had thought, the silver hues narrowed on her dangerously. She knew that look. It was a look that said ‘if you die, I’ll kill you.’ Sending her own glare back, she mouthed, ‘I’m fine,’ before turning back to face the front. 

She could still feel his eyes on her but as the bell tolled above them, she reset her focus on the formation in front of her, steeling her nerves against the dangers outside the walls. As soon as the gate was fully lifted, the bell tolls clanging to a stop, Erwin let out a bellowing war cry and charged out into the expansive fields beyond the walls, the men and women behind him letting out similar yells as they followed their Commander. (Y/N) did the same, her stunning liver chestnut mare, Zephyr, rearing up at (Y/N)’s yell, and charging forward. The galloping movement immediately sent bolts of white hot pain up her spine but she ignored it, gritting her teeth and kicking her horse into a faster gallop.

Clearing the gate, (Y/N) immediately directed her horse to the right flank, breaking off with the rest of her squad, her Squad Leader, Hanji, leading the charge in front of them with bright eyes searching for the abnormal titans. (Y/N) rolled her eyes affectionately at her Squad Leader’s antics, a small smile making its way to her face at the thought of the energetic brunette bouncing around her titan experiments while Levi grumbled in annoyance about her getting eaten one day.

Suddenly, Zephyr gave a little crow hop, bouncing over a small log in the field instead of going around it like (Y/N) had expected. Normally, she didn’t mind it too much, sometimes grunting in annoyance at her mare being stubborn but being otherwise unaffected. But this time, the movement caused her to gasp in pain, feeling as if she had just been burned between her shoulders. She saw her surrounding squad members give her odd looks and Hanji even turned with a raised eyebrow to check that she was alright, but she waved them off. She could handle this, she had handled it before, she could handle it now. Anger washed through her system at the stubbornness of her body. She hated how it demanded from her so often, striking bolts of pain into her back every time she  refused to let go for more than a few days at a time. She would’ve done so a few days ago, but she had been so busy, she hadn’t had time and now her body hurt like a bitch, screaming at her to just let go.

Ignoring the urge to either give herself what she wanted or claw her own back out, (Y/N) clenched her jaw so tight her teeth hurt and continued forward, hoping for the first time in her life for some titans to show up so she could distract herself from this pain with some well placed blows to the nape. She was at least grateful for the fact that Levi was stationed on the other side of the formation, too far away to focus on her.

Almost as if someone was listening to her thoughts, a red flare went off to their left. Hanji immediately jerked her head up and shouted out orders, lifting her own flare to shoot it into the sky. (Y/N) braced herself, her hand coming back to rest on the handle of her blade despite the lack of visual, waiting for the ugly beasts to show their faces.

She felt them before she saw them, their heavy footfalls making the ground shake as they got nearer. She felt her horse tense beneath her, but a few cooing words had her mare relaxing again, focusing on doing her job. Hanji’s squad was reaching the edge of the forest when the titans finally showed themselves, their wide grins and sparkling eyes spelling out a violent death for all of them as the beasts broke into a run, headed straight for the group of soldiers. The Garrison soldiers around her gasped in fear, their bodies tensing to the point of some of them making their horses frustrated, the animals snorting and pinning their ears at the increased pressure on their flanks.

(Y/N) shot them reassuring looks despite her annoyance at their inexperience, trying to be sensitive to their fear. It was one of the very few times they had ever been outside the walls after all. Pulling her swords from their sheathes, (Y/N) waited for the signal from Hanji, watching as the man-eating monsters got closer and closer, their mouths gaping open in anticipation.

When the beasts were close enough for them to practically feel their hot breath, Hanji gave the signal and the entire squad scattered immediately. The Garrison soldiers reacted slower but followed Hanji’s team, not arguing for once as they fought to avoid being ripped to shreds. Three Garrison soldiers rode on either side of (Y/N) as she galloped towards one of the titans and leaped from her horse, swords poised to strike. The Garrison soldiers stayed on the ground as was part of the plan, and let (Y/N) shoot her hooks into the titan, slicing the beast while it was focused on trying to eat the soldiers below. The giant died with a crash, its body already steaming by the time it hit the ground. (Y/N) landed on the titan’s shoulders, hissing as the hot steam bit her skin, and whistled for her horse.

“Good work, you three,” (Y/N) said as she remounted Zephyr, riding back up to the men flanking her. “If we keep doing that, everything will be fine.”

(Y/N) knew she was lying. Anything could happen on an expedition that could lead to their unexpected deaths, but as the men nodded, a little bit of color coming back into their paled faces, she knew it was worth it to lie. If she could keep their confidence up, their mission would have a higher chance of success. 

Looking around, (Y/N) spotted the rest of Hanji’s squad joining back together, the three titans lying dead on the ground, the steam rising into the air as they disintegrated. Nodding to the Garrison soldiers around her, (Y/N) kicked her horse forward and rejoined the group.

“Any sign of the climbing ones yet?” (Y/N) asked, riding up beside Hanji. Her Squad Leader shook her head, a slight look of disappointment on her face.

“Not yet, but we’re still watching. Keep an eye out for black flares.”

“Yes, Captain,” (Y/N) said, slowing Zephyr down again to rejoin her proper formation placement.

The mission continued on surprisingly smoothly, titans coming and going but only some managing to get past the other legions to reach Hanji’s squad. The ones that did get through the ranks were easily slaughtered, the soldiers remaining in their tight knit formation as much as possible. By the time they were rounding the forest, aiming to rejoin the other two groups, (Y/N) was starting to lose control. While killing the titans provided her a good distraction, flying into the air on her ODM gear just made the pain in her back worse, her body screaming at her with every galloping step. Spots were starting to form in her vision, and she knew something bad would happen if she didn’t get help soon.

“Hanji-”

(Y/N) was interrupted by the appearance of several black flares at once, painting the sky in a smokey grey as they faded with the wind. All thoughts of her pain eddied from (Y/N)’s mind at the sight of those flares, where they came from. That was from Levi’s squad. (Y/N) fought the panic that automatically rose in her throat. They had been on several missions together and had survived every single one. (Y/N) had to have confidence that this would be no different. Levi was Humanity’s Strongest Soldier, he could handle himself just fine on the battlefield.

Regardless, when Hanji announced that they were changing directory, spinning her horse around to run towards the source of the black flares, (Y/N) couldn’t help but feel a flash of relief, eager to check on her lover and protect him if necessary.

____________________________

Levi cursed as another abnormal leapt at him, keeping him too busy to assist anyone else, his heart clenching at the sound of screaming all around him. It had happened so fast, everything had been normal, calm, almost peaceful until one of them had jumped out of a tree like a giant, horrific ape. After that, only more and more had followed, the climbing titans using the trees as leverage to jump on top of the soldiers, crushing the ones under their feet and disorienting the ones that managed to avoid the first devastating blow.

The titan swiped for him again, nearly spinning him out of control when one of its claws caught the edge of his cape, ripping the fabric and throwing off his balance. He was running low on gas but he had no place to go, the forest too far away to latch onto a tree and the titan too difficult to use as an anchor point. Levi twisted, and shot his hooks out again before quickly retracting them from where they had landed in the beast’s neck, using the momentum of which to throw himself out of the way of the titan’s next grab at him.

That was when he saw his opening. Right as he twisted, he noticed that the titan had swung too hard too fast when aiming for Levi, and ended up stumbling forward a little, off balance from the force of the swing. Not wasting a second longer, Levi shot for its nape, spinning as he dove down and slicing through the flesh with a furious roar. The beast crumpled to the ground, taking Levi with it until the raven-haired Captain could land safely on its head.

Looking around again, Levi growled in anger. His squad seemed shaken and injured but alive, while the Garrison soldiers had dropped like flies, the strategic fighting style of these new titans proving to be too much for the normally lazy soldiers. While he normally hated the Garrison, Levi couldn’t help but feel a pang in his heart at the thought of the unnecessary deaths, gritting his teeth in anger as he looked towards the forest where things seemed to have quieted down again. For now.

The sound of hoofbeats roused him from his thoughts as he mounted his stallion and regrouped with his squad, his head turning to see Hanji’s squad heading right for them. Kicking his horse into a gallop, Levi and his group met Hanji half way, his eyes automatically searching for (Y/N) and softening when he found her, her own relieved gaze settled on him.

“Levi, what’s going on?” Hanji demanded.

“Abnormal climbing titans, just like the reports said. They were in the goddamn trees, used them like fucking launch pads to corner us,” Levi said, the fire in his eyes stating very clearly what the next set of instructions were. Kill not capture.

Hanji saw that look too and hung her head but nodded. She may be a crazy scientist who loved to do tests on man-eating monsters, but she wouldn’t risk lives unnecessarily. Levi nodded once, grateful for her lack of protest.

“I am low on gas so unless someone has another canister, I’m going to need to head back to the middle. I probably only have enough to shoot up into a tree. That last titan kept toying with me for a while, and I couldn’t find a place to land.”

Hanji’s eyes widened before she nodded. “I’ll take care of your squad, go to Erwin in the center formation. They might even have some extra canisters there if you look in the supply wagon, assuming it hasn’t been destroyed by a titan yet.”

Levi grunted in acknowledgement and turned around, clicking his tongue and pressing his legs into his stallion’s side. His horse burst into a canter and started heading for where they knew Erwin was stationed, the red flares in the sky telling them they had not yet encountered the abnormals.

(Y/N) was just about to turn and double check the gas levels on the canisters of the soldiers around her, able to act as Hanji’s second in command due to her experience, when movement in the trees caught her eye. Her eyes widened and Levi’s name was out of her mouth in a scream before her mind could even really process the situation. Kicking her horse into a furious gallop, (Y/N) ignored the shouts of her name as she rode right for her lover, her eyes watching as the abnormal titan, its body hidden by the canopy of trees, made right for Levi.

To her horror, Levi slowed to a stop and turned to see what (Y/N) wanted, not yet having realized that he was only thirty feet from death. Screaming for him to get out of the way, (Y/N) pushed Zephyr to the brink, desperate to reach him before the titan did, her eyes catching the white teeth that glinted in the dappled sunlight beneath the trees.

Watching where she was looking, Levi finally realized what she must be screaming about. Looking towards the forest, he still couldn’t see anything, but he figured he must be at the wrong angle to see whatever danger (Y/N) could see. Immediately putting his full faith in her, Levi started galloping again, trying to get out of the way. But it was too late. Just as he started moving again, his eyes finally caught sight of the abnormal titan, the beast hanging from a tree branch and smiling at him, drool falling in rivers from its mouth as it eyed him like a fresh cut steak.

Levi knew it was too late, his eyes closing as the titan leaped at him, its mouth gaping, teeth ready to bite him in half. There was nothing he could do. He was out of gas, out of time. His horse panicked beneath him, trying to turn in a way that would avoid the blow, but he wasn’t fast enough.

“I love you, (Y/N),” Levi murmured to himself just as he felt his body get slammed out of the saddle.

_____________________________

Levi grunted in pain at the feeling of being swatted from the back of his horse, his eyes squeezed shut as the wind howled in his ears. He had expected the titan to jump on him like the last one did, but as he felt himself flying through the air, he realized the beast must’ve thrown him. He braced himself to hit the ground, almost hoping the impact would kill him quickly rather than feeling the pain of being crushed between a titan’s teeth. 

But he never did. 

Opening his eyes, Levi looked down to see the ground far below him, the other soldiers scrambling for cover as the titan rampaged below. He could even see his own stallion, riderless, galloping around in a panic, clearly having jumped out of the titan’s way when he was thrown out of the saddle. But he wasn’t falling towards the ground.

Levi fought for breath as he realized he was flying parallel to the ground, neither rising nor falling, just gliding over the field. He gasped out when his body turned in midair, curving in an arc and dipping down to aim back to where his squad members had finally managed to kill the abnormal and were looking at him with shocked faces, standing around with wide eyes and dropped jaws.

Suddenly, his body was shifted a little, and Levi realized there were a pair of strong, soft arms holding him close to someone’s chest. The wind still howled in his ears, but now that some of the initial panic was gone, he could detect the sound of crying. Looking up, Levi froze, his eyes locking on familiar (e/c) ones he saw everyday. (Y/N) was carrying him. But then how was she working her ODM gear without using her hands to pull the triggers? Where was she connecting her grappling hooks to?

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” (Y/N) was whispering over and over again into his ear, her body shaking almost as much as his.

“(Y/N), what-?”

That was when he finally noticed. His face had been so close to hers, his eyes so focused on holding her gaze that he hadn’t thought to look out a little. But now he saw. Over the rush of the wind in his ears he could hear it too, the sound of the air being beat around them. His breath caught in his throat, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. Poking out from (Y/N)’s back to stretch taut on either side of her, were a pair of gorgeous, leathery black wings.

“Hold on tight to me,” (Y/N) murmured, not giving him a chance to question her before she dove down, folding her wings in slightly so that they sped towards Levi’s squad. Levi naturally gripped her harder, his arms around her neck and his face nestled into her throat as they dropped, his heart in his mouth. Just before hitting the ground, (Y/N) spread her wings out again, flaring them open to catch the wind and slow their descent before flapping them a few times to land gracefully on the ground.

(Y/N) instantly set Levi back down on the ground as soon as they were stable, but held her shoulder out to him to lean against, knowing his legs were probably like jelly after that near death experience. She was still trembling like a leaf, a mix of adrenaline and paralyzing fear overwhelming her body. 

She hadn’t thought when she had finally let go. She just did it. The sight of Levi, about to get eaten by that foul beast, had wiped all sense of logic from her brain. She would’ve used her gear, but she knew she wouldn’t have reached him in time, her natural mode of flight much faster than a bucket of bolts and wires.

The horrible pain in her back was gone now, replaced by a pleasant throbbing as the satisfying new weight sat perfectly between her shoulders. Her back was automatically realigned, her body made for the wings she displayed so that she wouldn’t hunch. It felt so good to have them out again, even if the breeze that brushed them did cause her to shiver and tuck them in close to her body. But she knew now. There was no hiding this from anyone. Erwin may not have been around to see it, but both of Levi’s and Hanji’s squads had seen it, along with all of the Garrison soldiers that had come along for the trip.

She was starting to feel light headed. This was bad. This was really really bad. Memories came flooding back, the cages and the chains and the whips and the evil grins. She didn’t know what to do. Should she fly away? She didn’t have to worry about titans so much when she didn’t have to worry about gas usage, but then she would be leaving her friends and comrades alone with little gas and a shocked, distracted state of mind. If they didn’t get themselves together when she left, too stunned by her secret to function as an elite unit, they would most certainly perish. She was just about to say something when one of the Garrison soldiers opened his mouth instead.

“Well well well…,” he nearly purred, making (Y/N)’s hair stand up on end. “What  do we have here? Those are some pretty sweet wings you’ve got there. How did you get them?”

“That’s none of your concern,” (Y/N) said, her body tensing as she brought her wings impossibly closer to her body.

“I’m assuming it’s a difficult, nearly impossible procedure? I wonder exactly how many of you there are out there. Not many, I’m assuming?”

(Y/N) didn’t answer. She could see where this was going but she had to wait it out, her eyes scanning the territory around them not only for an escape route, but also to check for oncoming titans.

“That makes me wonder…, how much someone would be willing to pay for the only winged human in the world…”

(Y/N) met his eyes then. She felt Levi tense beside her but he still seemed to be in shock, his hair covering his face as he looked down at the ground, refusing to even glance in her direction. The sight made her heart clench painfully. She had known she would lose him when she finally revealed her true self to him, but it didn’t lessen the pain of actually experiencing it, the happy memories from the past six months flooding her brain only to turn sour at the sight of the normally regal Captain hunched over in distress.

“GET HER!”

The loud bellow snapped her out of her thoughts, her head jerking around to see every Garrison soldier immediately charge her, weapons raised and eyes glimmering. She could see them practically drooling at the thought of the mountains of money they were going to receive for bringing back such a rare creature. Letting out a loud snarl, (Y/N) viciously snapped her wings open, the large black membranes stretching out in their entirety before she shot into the air, knocking some of the surrounding soldiers over with the force of her wings flapping. She heard the sound of gunshots and let out a yelp when she felt a bullet strike her side but she kept flying, darting into the forest without hesitation, her wings curling and arching to allow her to whip around the trees. Her wings pumped, beating the air as she flew as fast as she could, disappearing into the foliage until she could no longer hear the unintelligible sounds of screaming behind her.

___________________________

Levi was a complete wreck. When that piece of shit had barked at his men to grab her, bringing out his gun and actually managing to hit her somewhere, Levi had snapped out of his daze and damn near killed the man. Only having both Hanji and a frantic Erwin drag him off the other man had kept Levi from finishing him off.

Erwin, who had come running up when neither of his two troops came back, was quickly briefed on the situation while the Garrison soldiers were held at gunpoint, all of them trying to figure out what the hell to do. In the end, Erwin had decided to retreat, the threat of more titans appearing becoming a greater and greater threat the longer they stayed in one place. Levi had been adamant, refusing to leave his lover out on her own, but Hanji, Erwin, and eventually Mike managed to force him to come with them.

As soon as they had made it back to base, the Garrison soldiers had been imprisoned for the unprecedented attack against a Survey Corps officer, none of their superiors believing in a story about a woman with wings, all of them assuming the men had gone crazy from their experience outside the walls for the first time. The Survey Corps soldiers had been sent back to base to eat and rest, despite the fact that it was obvious none of that was going to happen with the entire place abuzz with rumors and retellings of what had happened on the battlefield.

Levi was distraught, pacing his office as if he were caged, his hand raking through his hair. Hanji and Erwin joined him in his office as soon as they had put away their horses and gear, Hanji even taking the time to take care of (Y/N)’s horse before finding their friend in his quarters. Neither one of them had ever seen him this upset and it worried them, the wild look in his eyes as he fought with himself over the decision to leave her out there, even when he hadn’t had a choice.

“I’m assuming, Levi, based on your reaction that you did not know?” Erwin asked carefully.

“Of course I didn’t know! I mean, her back was really bothering her and she’s always been sensitive to touch, almost fearful of it, but there was nothing to suggest that she has fucking wings hidden in her back!”

“Okay, we need to think about this very carefully,” Hanji said.

“What is there to think about!?” Levi cried. “We are going back out there to get her as soon as the horses have had some water and my squad has rested.”

“Levi, it’s not that simple. We were able to stop the spread of rumors throughout the Garrison for now, but what do you think will happen when we get her back here, hmm? You can’t protect her from everyone, and word will get out about her… gift. You can’t just lock her up in a box either. Obviously, she’s been having some problems with keeping this a secret, so we need to have a solid plan, something to ensure her safety before we throw her into danger unnecessarily,” Hanji said.

Levi sighed and hung his head, bracing his palms against the edge of his desk. What his friends were saying was true, but he just couldn’t help the feelings that were running rampant through him. The thought of anyone trying to take his lover from him made his blood boil. He wanted nothing more than to protect her at all costs, to keep her safe and hidden away from the dangers of the world. 

But Hanji was right. She wasn’t just some animal that could be kept in a room and still be happy. She was a person, and not just any person, a person with wings. She would naturally want to be out and about. Besides, he didn’t want her to have to live that way anyway. He wanted her to be able to live her life freely, the way she wanted to, without fear of being captured and used for experiments.

Levi looked up when he felt a hand on his shoulder, and turned to see Erwin standing beside him, his face scrunched with worry for both of his hurting friends. He could see how much Levi wanted to help her, but he was being irrational and just needed a moment to step back.

“Levi, right now I want you to settle down and rest. That’s an order,” Erwin said when Levi opened his mouth to argue. “Hanji and I will start putting together a plan and go over it with you tomorrow, but right now, you are not in the right frame of mind to contribute. Understood?”

Levi wanted to press the issue further but he eventually nodded and sighed, accepting defeat.

“Good.”

Levi watched as his two friends left, closing the door behind them in the hopes that Levi would be able to eventually relax a little. Levi scoffed at the idea, resting while his beloved was stuck outside the walls, injured and struggling for survival. The only comfort he had was that it was getting dark outside, the titans settling down for the night with the setting sun.

“Just hang in there, (Y/N). Please, just stay alive, I’m coming for you as soon as I can, I promise.”

_________________________________

Levi shot awake, his body covered in sweat and his chest heaving to find himself in his office. He didn’t know when he had fallen asleep, only that he had obviously dozed off in his desk chair, his neck aching from the odd sleeping position. He had been dreaming of (Y/N) calling for his help, screaming as she was crushed between the jaws of a titan. He had tried to reach her, but his feet wouldn’t move, keeping him frozen to the floor as he watched the love of his life die, even after she had saved his life without hesitation.

He brought a hand to his face, wiping the sweat from his skin and closing his eyes again, the sight of (Y/N) blowing him a kiss and mouthing ‘I love you’ before she died, burned into his brain no matter how many times he tried to convince himself it wasn’t real. He swallowed hard and opened his eyes again, trying to calm his rapidly beating heart. (Y/N) was the strongest woman he knew. Not only as a soldier, but also in her determination to help others and make it through any situation, no matter the challenge. If anyone could make it out there, it would be her.

Standing up, Levi was about to go brew himself some tea when a light tapping on the glass of his window made him look up. He nearly choked on his gasp at the sight of (Y/N), holding a hand to her side where she had wrapped her bullet wound with torn pieces of her jacket, but seemingly otherwise unharmed. She was standing on the windowsill on the side of the castle, her wings hidden again.

Levi wasted no time in sprinting to the window and flinging it open, pulling her into his arms, immediately burying his face into her neck and inhaling her scent, his right hand placed against her chest to feel her heartbeat drum against his fingers. She sagged against him and hugged him back, a small smile spreading across her face at his affection.

“Oh my gods, (Y/N),” Levi choked out, reaching up to stroke her hair softly. “I was so fucking worried.”

“I’m here now, Levi. It’s okay.”

“How?” Levi asked, pulling back to look her into her eyes.

“Um…, it wasn’t too bad when I didn’t have to worry about gas. I just had to stay high enough to keep away from the titans that could jump, and then I stayed above the cloud line when crossing the wall to stay out of sight.”

Levi blinked at her and she glanced away from him, her front teeth coming out to bite at her lip nervously. He still hadn’t reacted to the news. She knew there was a chance he could try to imprison her, or have her experimented on, but she just couldn’t stay away from him. She had argued with herself when she had finally found a safe pace to stay, but she knew she couldn’t leave him. No matter what happened to her, she had to see him one last time.

“Hey,” Levi said, gently lifting her chin. “It’s okay. It’s definitely… different, but I love you and nothing could ever change that. Not even a pair of beautiful wings.”

“You think they’re beautiful?” (Y/N) asked, a hopeful glint in her eye.

“Yes,” Levi breathed. “And they helped you save my life, thank you.”

(Y/N) nodded and nuzzled into his chest a little, her nerves still tingling. He had called them beautiful, but she still felt wary, like something bad was going to happen any second now.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Levi asked after a moment of silence.

“You saw what happened when people found out. I became very valuable all of a sudden, and not in the good way.”

“You think I would ever do that to you?”

“No.., not really. I guess, I was worried about you hating me, but I never thought you’d hurt me. I was mostly afraid of everyone else, and what they might’ve done to you if you tried to prevent them from taking me.”

Levi looked into her eyes then. She had kept them a secret not just to protect herself but also to protect him. His heart warmed at the sentiment at the same time that anger coiled in his gut, upset at the idea of her having to feel this way because people wouldn’t accept her for who she is.

“How?” Levi asked.

(Y/N) knew what he meant. She loosed a sigh and backed away from him, her arms coming around to hold herself.

“I don’t know specifically how because the experiments technically weren’t done on me. But I was raised in a lab. I was experimented on a lot after I was born, testing my limits and trying to see how strong I was. It was horrible, especially when they would test pain durability and tolerance,” Levi sucked in a breath but didn’t interrupt, letting her pour her heart out.

“I was apparently supposed to be the newest weapon for the Survey Corps, a new line of technology that some people discovered one day. I was supposed to be a prototype of some sort, for a new way to fight. They were going to advertise having this procedure done on people so that we would never have to use ODM gear ever again.”

“But it didn’t go according to plan. I said earlier that the experiments technically weren’t done on me because it was originally my mother that they were using. She was a nobody, a prostitute from the Underground that nobody cared about after she had gotten pregnant from a client. Problem was, when they selected her, they didn’t know she was pregnant. I’m pretty sure she didn’t even know either. They just picked her because she was losing popularity at her particular brothel. Turns out morning sickness isn’t exactly a turn on,” (Y/N) said bitterly, making Levi’s blood boil at the thought of this poor pregnant woman going through that.

“She was experimented on, injected with things, tortured. All in the hopes that she would grow wings like I did. What they didn’t know was that the treatments were actually affecting me inside of her, making me develop differently. They found out when they noticed her stomach extending and used some tests to determine she was pregnant. They made her go through with it, keeping her healthy until I was born,” (Y/N) closed her eyes and swallowed hard, a shuddering breath escaping from her lips as she recalled the last part.

“Apparently, since I developed wings in the womb, when I was born, I ended up killing my own mother, her body not prepared to give birth to two extra appendages. I was too big for her body to handle, in terms of shape, and I ended up ripping her on the inside, both with the size of my wings and the talons I have on each crest.”

Levi’s eyes widened, (Y/N)’s bitter expression telling him that everything she said was true.

“But they didn’t care about my mother. She was just some rat from the Underground to them. So when she died, they threw her body out back for the animals to get and immediately started working on me.”

(Y/N) chuckled darkly when Levi growled, her eyes flashing in agreement. “Yeah I know.”

“So, how did you get out?” Levi asked.

“Well, they would take me on these test flights sometimes, outside the walls to see how good I was at killing titans and maneuvering around their attempts to catch me. I was always attached to things or people, chained to a cart or something to keep me from flying away. One day, when we were out, a horde of titans came out of nowhere. I killed some of them, protecting myself, but when they went for the people I was tortured by…, I just didn’t act quite as fast as I could’ve to kill the titans.”

Levi nodded, love swelling in his chest at the thought that she had trusted him enough to tell him that. “C-Can I see them?”

(Y/N) hesitated. She trusted Levi, but years of instincts and habits were hard to break. Steeling her nerves, (Y/N) nodded once and closed her eyes. Levi watched in awe as (Y/N) took a deep breath and slowly unfurled her wings, the large black membranes expanding and stretching until they were fully revealed.

Levi knew she was feeling nervous, could tell in the way she shifted from foot to foot and bit her lip again, but he couldn’t form the words to comfort her, rendered speechless by the sight in front of him. He had thought they were beautiful when he saw them briefly on the battlefield, but now up close, the only word he could think of to describe her was stunning. Her wingspan was obviously huge, the wings stretching out enough to almost brush along both walls of his office. They gleamed in the flickering candlelight, especially off of the sharp talons she had at the tip of each wing. They almost seemed to breathe, the muscles naturally rising and falling with each breath she took, the membranes turned into various shades of red and gold as the light filtered through them.

“Wow…,” Levi murmured, prompting a blush to form on (Y/N)’s cheeks.

“You don’t think they’re weird?”

“No,” Levi said, gently coming closer to her. “Do you think…, do you think I could… touch one?”

(Y/N) tensed a little but eventually nodded, a curious spark in her eye. “Just be gentle, they are ~Hah! Ahhahh…”

Levi had gently brushed his fingertip along her left wing as she was talking, the soft moan that escaped her mouth causing him to freeze. He looked at her face to see her gritting her teeth.

“That,” she swallowed. “Is very sensitive.”

“Bad sensitive or good sensitive?”

“G-Good.”

Levi smirked. “Oh? What if I do this?”

(Y/N) clenched her fists and stood ramrod straight, a gasp tearing from her throat as he took two fingers and ran them along the inner curve of her wing, brushing against her with the utmost care and gentleness.

Levi marveled at the feeling of her wing. It was way softer than he could’ve ever imagined, like pure silk. It was warm too, he could feel the pulsing of her heartbeat through the membrane, the heat from her blood circulation making her wing have the feeling of freshly baked cookies.

“What does it feel like?” Levi asked, his voice no louder than a whisper.

“Um, like this,” (Y/N) said, her words strangled. She surprised him by placing her hand beneath his shirt and running it down his chest with featherlight caresses. When she reached his abs, she unexpectedly leaned forward and bit his ear lobe, licking along the shell and blowing on it, making him shudder with a quiet groan.

“Oh,” Levi said, his voice two octaves deeper than before as tingles exploded through his system.

“Yeah,” (Y/N) said with a chuckle.

“Where do you hide them?” Levi asked as he reached his hand up to stroke her wing again, ripping another gasp from her.

“There are two slits in my back, they look almost like a pair of giant fish gills. They are nearly unnoticeable normally, but when I haven’t opened them for a while they become more prominent.”

“Is that also why you were having such horrible back pain?”

“Yeah, if I keep them hidden for too long my body starts to get upset with me. You see, I’m built to have wings. My spine is slightly altered to accommodate for them, so when I hide them away, it curls my spine abnormally. If I don’t release them every few days, I get those back pains you saw me dealing with. I normally just release them in my room when it’s late at night and the doors are locked, but I’ve been so busy, I haven’t had time to safely stretch them out without hurting myself. It was because of that that I was so sensitive to touch as well. Part of it was genuinely from my past of abuse, but the other part of it was to make sure you didn’t find them by accident. Sometimes you can cause them to come out by squeezing the right pressure point on my back.”

Levi nodded. “(Y/N), I’m sorry you’ve had to deal with this alone. I wish you had told me sooner. Just know that I will protect you and we will get through this together, alright? I���m not leaving you and I will not let anyone take you from me.”

(Y/N) smiled at him, tears springing to her eyes at his warm sentiment. Gods, she was so in love with this man. If she thought he was perfect before, she didn’t know what to think now other than he was more than perfect, and she couldn’t help but swell with pride and love at the thought that he was all hers. She knew in the morning she would have to face a bombardment of questions and the world would get a lot more dangerous for her, but with Levi by her side, she knew they could conquer anything.

[oddsnendsfanfics]

Unraveling at the Alter

Genre: Fan Fiction

Pairing: Henry Cavill/OFC

Warnings: Fluff.

Rating: G

Length: Drabble

Disclaimer: a strict work of fiction, I own nothing except the original characters and the plot line. In no way am I affiliated to any of it.  

A/N: Thank you @agniavateira​ for helping me with this :) It is massively appreciated. 

Henry Cavill Master List

This was it.

Years of waiting.

Years of heartache, joy, and more love than he knew was possible.

Henry sighed and rubbed his hands against his slacks, licking his lips nervously, he rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. Oh god. Oh god! He bent forward, fighting the urge to vomit. Why the fuck was he so nervous? It's not like this was anything new. He'd been madly in love with her for years, even when they weren't together he had held some sort of twisted hope for this very day.

Not to be that man, but Henry had been somewhat in love with her from the first week he'd met her. All of those years ago, some days it felt like an entirely different life.

“Dad,” Ivan laid his hand on Henry's arm.

“Hmm?”

“Are you okay? Do I need to get Uncle Charlie?” His blue eyes watched his father with great concern.

All morning the house had been consumed in chaos. Henry had taken up residence in the office, at the opposite end of the house from where Nell had been getting ready upstairs. His brothers – and Nell's, fathers, mothers, Ivan, and Kal had been in and out of the room a hundred and one times. Until his mother had the sense to ask them all to get out. With the exception of his best man and his dog.

Henry was thankful for the bit of silence, before the actual ceremony.  Evidently he wasn't hiding his nerves as well as he had hoped to.

“No, wild boy, I'm fine. Thank you.” Henry forced a smile to ease his son's worries. “Have you seen your mum?” Henry hadn't set eyes on her since this morning, when he was woken by Ivan jumping on their bed and urging his dad to hurry downstairs.

Ivan smirked, his eyes sparkling as he nodded eagerly. He had never seen her look so pretty, he may have even cried a little. “Dad, she looks like a princess! But without all the stupid frills and no singing mice.”

Henry laughed at Ivan's details. Leave it to Ivan.

With some tradition, Henry had yet to see the dress that Nell had picked. His only hint had been that it wasn't a traditional wedding dress, although she was confident he would love it all the same. She was head over heels for her dress. The delicate blue and white beading at the top gave way to a flowing emerald satin skirt. She'd found it while looking for bride's maid dresses.

Since they were getting married in their own garden, Nell felt that a relaxed look would be acceptable. Besides, she had no interest in putting on a big poofy, over the top dress, only to take it off an hour later and never wear it again.

Unconfirmed, Henry had a sneaky suspicion that her dress in some way matched the attire she had found for him. Nell had convinced him to go with a dark green waistcoat and slacks,  who was Henry to argue. She had been dressing him long enough to know what he would look good in. Ivan looked adorable in his matching attire.

A soft knock on the door, with something mumbled through from the hall, indicated that it was time for Henry, his best man, and his dog to take post in the garden.

“Coming,” Ivan called back, smiling like the cat who'd found the canary.  

“Kal,” Henry whistled, the big dog lifting his head and huffing. Slowly standing with a yawn, Kal licked his lips and sauntered over to big Henry shaking his head. This silly blue bow tie that they had put on him was beginning to get in the way of a good nap. “Come on, bear. It's time to roll.”

“Dad,” Ivan walked beside Henry, his hands in his pockets.

“Yes?”

“Are you happy to be marrying mum?”

“I have no words to tell you how happy I am, wild boy.” Henry beamed. “Are you happy about this?”

“I guess,” Ivan shrugged and smiled. “If it makes you and mum happy. Why not?”

“Always the supportive one,” Henry rolled his eyes, chuckling at Ivan's passive demeanor.

The groomsmen looked smart, well put together, and turned out better than Henry could have imagined. Ivan stood straight, his hair styled to match his dad's, with Kal at his side. One bride's maid, then two, a third, then fourth, by the fifth Henry was again feeling like he was going to vomit. Deep breaths. Hands sweaty, he wished he'd asked to see Nell before hand. He would have been able to tell her how spectacular she looked while crying like a baby, in private.

No use wishing for that now.

As the music began, he could feel his hands shake. Kal whimpered beside Ivan and nudged his nose into Ivan's side, moving him closer to Henry. Smiling at his dad, Ivan reached out, taking his hand.

Nell had spent the morning fretting over every tiny detail of her day. Was her hair the right way, her make up as she had sampled? Did her dress fit and fall the exact way it had the moment she'd fell in love with it? Would Henry be pleased? Would he be as shaky as her? Crying and trying to catch breath.

More than once, Nell had felt like she was being sat on by an elephant. Only to be filled with sudden excitement and wanting to scream in pure delight. Her sister and mother had barely left her side since she'd woken. Ivan had come barreling into the room before dawn, jumping on the bed and shouting for Henry to get out. Leave it to their son.

Her father had assured her that Henry looked every bit dashing and handsome as she had wished. Perhaps more, now that she saw him in his perfect wedding suit. They couldn't have planned this better. The weather was amazing, for a mid November day. Nell had worked hard on her garden, since they'd moved in a few months ago, making sure it was perfect for the day.

“How is your dad?” She'd asked Ivan a few hours ago.

A mischievous grin, the wild boy shrugged. “He looks like a prince, but without the stupid Disney animation.”

Cheeky. Like his father.

Taking her father's arm, Nell inhaled and exhaled slowly. Her hands trying to steady the bouquet that she held in her left hand. Around her the music began to play, when asked about music for the ceremony Nell had casually mentioned how cool it would be to have an instrumental version to one of her favourite songs. What she hadn't been expecting was Henry to deliver.  One bride's maid...two...She closed her eyes, willing herself not to cry before she got down the aisle.

“Deep breath, Nelly.” Walt winked gently patting her hand. Nell nodded and smiled. “You're going to knock him dead, sweetheart.”

“Thanks, dad.” Her voice barely cracked above a whisper.

“Ready?” Walt looked at his youngest, smiling wide.

A slight nod, Nell took her first step forward, humming to the music to soothe her. The distance from the back door of the house to where Henry waited in the garden was exactly 152 steps, at the pace she would be going. She had practiced a time or two, while she had been home alone – using Kal as a stand in for Henry. In the garden a few chairs were placed, along with a delicate arrangement of lights. Who would have thought she'd be able to pull this all together in less than four full months.

60 people, all who were close and meaningful, around the garden to share in the day. Nell could feel the tears welling. At the end of the meticulous stone walkway, Henry stood with Ivan clutching his hand. Neither one of them did a very good job at keeping the tears at bay. Ivan reached up, wiping his sleeve across his eyes. Henry swallowed the lump in his throat trying not to sob loudly.

Ivan had been right when he'd said Princess. Nell was somehow more spectacular than Henry had imagined. Walter stopped, giving Nell a kiss on the cheek and Ivan a quick wink. Stepping forward to meet his bride, Henry let out a breath and a low whistle.

“Thank you,” He gave his father in law to be a quick nod.

Muttering back a quick congratulations, Walt took his seat in the front next to his waiting wife. Kal leapt forward a little greeting Nell with an affectionate “boof!”.

“Kal, sit.” Ivan quickly hushed the big dog.

Giving the couple a quick moment to sort themselves, Michael smiled and patiently stood. Henry had asked him to marry them, off the cuff, since he and Nell couldn't agree on anyone else to do the job. A soft laugh from the crowd when Kal tried to wiggle free from Ivan, again.

Ignoring the bit of commotion around him, Henry was lost in the sight before him. The soft, gentleness was Nell through and through.

“Oh, my darling.” Henry cooed, holding her hand tightly. Kissing the back of her hand, he smiled warmly. “You look,” he swallowed the lump in his throat. “You,” he sniffled. “Janelle, my darling.”

“Dad,” Ivan nudged him with his elbow in the back, Kal contained by his uncle beside him. “Tell her she's pretty! Don't just stand around and cry.”

A camera flashed and a few chuckles filled the air, from those close enough to hear Ivan's commentary. Rolling his eyes, Ivan sighed and gently shook his head. Adults.

“Shush, you.” Henry chuckled at Ivan, tears on his cheeks. “Nelly, you are...wow. Absolutely wow!”

“I love you,” Nell smiled, kissing his cheek. “And you, wild boy” she peeked at Ivan, “stop teasing him.”

“I love you all, and I hate to rush this moment, because you look fantastic.” Michael shook his head, trying to stop his own flood of tears, his baby sister looked absolutely stunning. “But...” He gestured to the crowd.

Nell giggled and Henry laughed. “Of course, of course.”

“I love you,” Nell mouthed quickly to her big brother.

Reciting vows that they had written for one another, exchanging their rings, and listening as Michael recited some words about love and marriage – no doubt something he had found when he went online to become ordained, Nell couldn't help herself as she became lost watching Henry. A time or two she had heard their guest chuckle, which prompted her to giggle along. Words lost to her, as she admired the man before her.

The crinkles on his eyes, the soft dimples when he smiled, or the smoothness of his voice when he read her the vows he'd written. God she had been so lucky.

“You are now husband and wife.” Michael happily announced, “Henry, I know she's my sister, but...this once I'll encourage you to kiss her.” he teased, slapping Henry's shoulder. Everyone sharing in their happiness.

Rolling his eyes, in typical Cavill fashion, Ivan groaned as his parents stood in front of everyone kissing like a couple of teenagers. His uncle shielding his eyes, Ivan giggled loudly. Thanking him for the help. He was bound to have nightmares over that kiss. Gross!

Kal wiggled and bounced on his leash, trying to convince whoever had a hold of him that he could be a good boy. He had spotted a squirrel earlier, on the east side of the house, in his duty of wedding dog, he didn't have a chance to properly investigate.

Around them people clapped, cheering the happy couple as they turned to face their guests, for the first time, as husband and wife. Nell wiped a few more tears away, sniffling. Henry smiled softly, his swiping his thumbs across her cheeks.

“Mum, momma, mum.” Ivan broke their moment, gently tugging at Nell's arm.

“Yes?”

“I love you. And I think you look really pretty. I told dad you looked like a princess, but I don't think he believed me.”

“I didn't say that.” Henry rolled his eyes, taking Nell's hand to step forward to join the guests waiting to mingle and personally congratulate the couple.

“You two are something else.” Laughing, Nell snagged Ivan gently pulling him into a hug. Kissing the top of his head, he was nearly as tall as her. Catching her mother's eye, she smiled, “I think they're waiting for us.”

“Do we have to take photos?” Ivan groaned, walking beside his parents, glancing around to see where Kal had gone off to. As best man his duty was to see his dad didn't freak out and to keep Kal out of trouble.

“Only a few, then we're having lunch and you are free to do whatever you want, for the day.” Nell instructed. “It won't be that bad. We're taking some photos here, so we don't even have to leave.”

She had opted to do as much as she could at their house, the property allowed for space to set up and still have room to wander off a little. If one didn't want to be directly in the crowd, they were welcome to take a walk around the few paddocks and wander down the small lane.

This was certainly not the lavish and large wedding that one would expect from a well known celebrity. Henry had snorted and groaned when Nell had informed him, a few days ago, that people were speculating about their upcoming wedding. The only people who mattered were those invited, as far as Henry was concerned. They had made a proper announcement about their engagement a few weeks ago, although their family and friends had known days after they had initially discussed it.

“Don't forget, tomorrow morning Bridie and Joe are coming round to take you for the afternoon.” Henry chose now to remind his son of his former Nanny's visit. “And you owe Sophie a dance.”

“I won't forget.” Ivan had been waiting weeks to see his friends from his former life in Ireland. He had marked off the days on a calendar in his room, even. He was excited not only for a party, but to see those he missed and didn't often see with his parents' work schedule.

“And you, Mrs. Cavill.” Henry winked, “Need to be ready by noon, tomorrow.”

“I will be, but I wish you'd tell me where we were going.” Nell pouted.

Henry had set up a four day escape to Rome, since they would be traveling for The Witcher press in a couple of weeks the honeymoon would be short. They had agreed to take Ivan along for the press tour, spending a few weeks together as a family. Between interviews and appearances. Easier said than done. But Henry wanted them with him, it would be nice to retire to a hotel room and have his family.

“Sorry, no can do. But I have things packed for you, Sadie helped me. I will tell you this, you're going to love it.” He kissed the back of her hand.

“Fine,” Nell sighed. “Since you're not going to tell me, shall we go around to the front and find the photographer? Before our mothers come over here.”

More than once, she had spotted their mothers watching, allowing them a few moments alone as husband and wife. Yet, keeping track of time.

“You're right, let's go around.”

The Cavill and Stewart clan were vast. Multiple siblings, spouses, and children. Trying to wrangle everyone, Kal included, into one or two large group photos had been a task. Nell was glad that the photographer was gracious and understanding. Attempting to get that many people in a space and all looking the same direction, succeeding in the second try – miracle or possibly witch craft. Nell wasn't sure, but she was in awe.

Henry's favourite photos would no doubt be the ones of his own little family. The three – four with Kal – of them together, happy and content. Nell sighed and shook her head, when Henry and Ivan went about their usual antics. Nobody else was bound to have a photo of their husband with their son thrown over his shoulder, while their giant dog jumped up trying to get in on the playfulness.

After photos and lunch, as promised, Nell gave Ivan the go ahead to do as he pleased. As long as he didn't retreat to the den and spend all day playing video games with his cousins. He had to still be around, if needed for more wedding activities. Like watching people Ooh and Awe over silly things. Did that many people need to cry over his parents dancing? His dad often looked like a wounded duck, although it never stopped him. Ivan could watch his parents dance to that nauseating Thomas Rhett song any time. His dad said it perfectly described how he felt about his life.

Whatever.  After his dance with Sophie, who he was gaining height on, he disappeared with a couple of Henry's nephews and Kal. As long as they didn't set anything on fire, they were allowed to roam and play on the property.

After a dance or two, Henry and Nell agreed to split ways for the moment. Mingling and enjoying their guests. It would be rude of them not to engage. Taking a little break, Nell stood at the back of the garden, enjoying the last bit of warmth from the day before the cool evening set in. She'd hugged, kissed, and thanked so many people that her head was beginning to swim a little.

“Has anyone told you that you look an absolute vision,” Nell's older sister, Sadie, approached extending her arms and embracing her little sister, kissing her cheek.

“I have heard that a time or two, but I think they were only saying it to be polite.” Nell winked and laughed. Gently fanning herself with her hand, it was far from warm outside, but the commotion was enough to make anyone sweat a little. Fanning herself, she blew out a breath, her cheeks hurting from all of the smiling. How could she not? If there was ever a day to walk around with a perma-smile, it was today.

“Let me guess, Hen can't stop complimenting you.” Sadie teased.

“He's said it a few times, too.” Winking, Nell beamed.

“You know, Nelly,  I'm just happy that you are happy. Cliche, yes, but as your big sister that is my job.” Squeezing her sister's hand, Sadie smiled fondly “It hasn't been easy, but what good romance is?”

“Looking back, I think we had to grow and excuse the corny, if it's yours then you need to let it go.” Nell shrugged, stealing a quick glance at Henry across the garden. Standing with one of their guests, chatting happily. “Had we not been apart, I don't think I would have realized or appreciated how much I need him. Or how much I love him.”

Henry had asked her to marry him several times in the past, getting shot down each and every one. Looking back, had she agreed, surely they would have been facing divorce by now. At the very least angry and bitter with one another, trapped in a loveless marriage with kids they resented as much as they did one another.

Life worked out for a reason.

“Sweetie,” Sadie hugged her sister, holding her tightly. “I'm so glad this worked out, because honestly, I can't think of anyone better for you. He loves you, so much.”

Hugging her sister tightly, Nell sniffled, trying to hold back another flood of emotions. Thankful, when she heard Henry gently clearing his throat, asking to steal his bride away for a moment. Hugging him as tightly as she did Nell; Sadie smiled waving them along.

“So, Mr. Cavill, what's the urgent task?” Nell linked her arm in his, leaning her head on his shoulder.

“Don't be mad,” Henry smirked, glancing around, nobody seemed to notice them escaping. “I wanted to have a moment with my wife, nobody else around.” He chuckled when Nell looked up, she'd been following his footsteps allowing him to lead her.

Around the other side of the garden, she giggled and hugged his arm tightly. “You rascal. Leading me astray, well I'll be.” She joked.

“I love you,” He whispered, kissing her temple.

“I love you, too.” Nell smiled, leaning into him. “So, this is it huh? Married life?”

“It looks like,” Henry beamed.

“I'm glad you accepted my proposal. Despite how awkward it was.”

“I would have been crazy not to, my darling.” Kissing her softly, Henry sighed happily. “I feel as though we've barely seen one another today. Would it be rude to say good night and sneak upstairs?”

An advantage and disadvantage to spending their wedding night at home. They could call it an evening anytime they wanted, but then it felt forced and rude. As if demanding guests to leave, which is not what they had intended. Nell had made it very clear that she wanted people to stay and enjoy, having car service to take people wherever they needed to go after.

“It's only 7pm.” Nell smiled, leaning into Henry, shivering slightly. “Do you really want to go in?”

Smiling mischievously, Henry wrinkled his nose. “Maybe? Is it wrong that this is our wedding night, but all I can think about is going to bed and snuggling with you?”

“Snuggling?”

“Among doing other things.”

“Ah, yes. Of course.” Glancing around, Nell furrowed her brow. A few spots had fresh dirt and Kal tracks. “Have you seen Kal lately?”

“He was with mum and Simon.”

“Hmm, well before we do anything tomorrow. We need to fix these flower beds. Someone found another squirrel it seems.”

Laughing, Henry looked at Nell for a moment, a sly smirk playing on his lips. “You are something else, my darling wife.”

“What? The dog tore apart my garden, I can't leave here with them looking like...”

“Nell, we can worry about that tomorrow. I can have Ivan and dad fix them, if you want. Or we can hire someone. I can't allow you to spend the morning of your honeymoon gardening. Which, by the way, I think we should discuss.”

“That top secret honeymoon? Are you going to tell me where we're going?”

Henry shook his head. “No, but I will tell you that it's been a while since we've been there, together,” Nell frowned. That could be just about anywhere. “We land and check in, then I have dinner reservations. The next morning, late morning, because I intend to keep you in the room as long as possible.” He bit hit bottom lip, “I have made us a booking for a couple's massages and then...”

“You have this all planned don't you?” Henry nodded, Nell winked, “what if I don't want a massage? What if I want to stay in our hotel the entire time and...”

“But we did that last time, this time...” Henry paused, eyes wide. Shit.

“Are you taking me to Rome?”

“I didn't say that.”

“You didn't have to. I think you gave it away pretty well. The only other place we've stayed in a hotel the entire time was the second trip to Jersey. Unless we're honeymooning in Jersey. Which if we are, I am fine with that, but Rome? Oh my god, Henry! Ugh, I love you! I love you. I love you! That is the perfect honeymoon.” Nell bounced eagerly, and she wondered where Ivan got it.

“I suppose you would have found out at the airport, anyway.” He teased, “So? You really like it?”

“Oh my god, of course! Henry! This is amazing. I could not have picked a better place.” She flung her arms around his neck, kissing him softly. “You are a fantastic husband. Have I told you that, today?”

“I don't know that I am as fantastic as my wife, but I certainly try.”

Take Us Home – Alan Doyle, is the song I had in mind for Nell’s entrance 

Blessed - Thomas Rhett is their first dance 

[newtonsheffield]

As I am currently lying in my own bed not well 😷😷 with my Hedwig Hot Water bottle curtesy of my hubby to be I got inspired to ask this about my fave couple 🥰

We’ve seen Kate and Anthony being the patient and the “doctor”

And in AOFAG obvs Soph takes care of a Ben when he gets sick... do you have any of Benophie taking care of one another when bed bound sick or hurt?

❤️

Hiiii!

First of all: I Hope you’re feeling better! I was off work last week with a cold and now I feel like I’m getting another one. There’s been a lot of rain recently in Queensland and because I’ve been constantly in and out of the rain and the air conditioning, I think I keep catching a chill like the heroine of a regency novel. Very tiring because I have to get a covid test every time

Now I’ve had another prompt very similar here so I’m answering them together! 

Anon asked: i binged b&s in one day !!!! it's soooooo good 🤍 and i love the mini fics you post here 🤍 do you have any head canons for when benophie when sophie gets sick for the first time since they got together? Hello! You binged it all in a day? Oh God, I’m so sorry, that’s a lot of my writing in one day. But I’m glad you enjoyed it, and welcome to this little black hole that I call a blog. 

Okay, I feel like we all know that Sophie Beckett is one nurturing son of a gun, so Benedict is welllllll taken care of when he gets sick. But I think it would be difficult for Sophie, who has had no who would take care of her to let him do it? 

Anywayyyyy Let’s see

Sophie Beckett prided herself on rarely being sick and even when she was, she never took a sick day. She showed up to work rain, hail, or shine, hopped up on Day Nurse and a throat lozenge and she didn’t complain. Not that she didn’t wish she could crawl into bed and quietly die, but it wasn’t an option. When she’d worked at Penwood House she hadn’t really had any sick leave, and she couldn’t have afforded to not work. But it was fine, she wasn’t really the kind of person that got sick regularly anyway, maybe twice a year she’d have a cold for a few days and that was easy enough to manage. And then four months into their relationship Benedict had woken up with a cold.

The sound of his sneeze had woken Sophie up first, and she’d sat up a little startled and turned to find Ben with a box of tissues on his chest, his eyes red, sniffling. His voice sounded stuffy when he said Sorry, you should go, I don’t want to get you sick. Sophie had tutted disapprovingly before she could stop herself and stood from the bed with a Ridiculous man before going into the bathroom, rummaging through his cabinet and returning with some paracetamol and a glass of water. Take these and go back to sleep, I’ll have to go and get some things but I’ll be back. He’d looked up at her, a little startled, but clearly thought the expression on her face left no room for arguments as he settled back against his pillows. She spent the rest of the day with his head cushioned against her chest her fingers running through his hair as he slept soundly against her with a muffled Love you, Soph. And her heart had stuttered away brimming with happiness despite the situation, content in that moment to have made him happy. 

2 days later Sophie woke up in her own bed and her head was pounding, her sinuses were congested and she couldn’t help but groan as she looked in the mirror at her bloodshot eyes and quietly cursed as she took her medication and went about getting ready for the day. She had been at work for approximately 30 minutes when the head chef sighed and said Sophie go home. Sophie had tried to argue but the chef laughed and said At this point I’m honestly worried you’ll give the customers the plague. You have some sick days they’re there for you to use. And she’d said it with such kindness that Sophie had honestly wanted to cry as she’d left, desperately looking forward to sinking back between the bedsheets. 

Benedict hadn’t really thought much of it. He’d been finishing a shoot, and sent Sophie a text, asking if she wanted to go to his brother’s later, Greg had a new something or other he was excited about playing medieval farm building game maybe?, not expecting a response straight away. He was fairly used to Sophie replying intermittently throughout the day, not being able to have her phone on her at all times. But she’d responded almost immediately Not tonight, Have fun though and he’d frowned a little at the blunt response, no explanation given. Deciding to lighten the mood he said Shouldn’t you be at work? Hiding in the bathroom again? 😏 And the response had come back again almost immediately No, got sent home sick. And Benedict had frozen, on his way out the door, camera bag swinging stupidly at his side as he considered the fact that Sophie had woken up unwell this morning, so unwell she’d had to go home and she hadn’t even thought to tell him. And his chest ached when he thought it likely wasn’t due to the fact that she was shutting him out, but because she was so used to not having anyone take care of her, she hadn’t even thought that he would want to.

Sophie was woken from a nap by a sharp knock on the door of her flat. And she couldn’t help but groan, wondering if they would just go away if she ignored them. When the knocking repeated itself she dragged herself out of bed, her head pounding with every step and her heart stopped when she opened the door, to find Ben absolutely ladened down with pharmacy bags. Sorry it took me so long, I didn’t know what you had so I just got some of everything. He said, smiling happily as she shimmied past her frozen in the doorway. setting about putting his bags down, unpacking them, confusion welling in her chest until finally she stuttered out Ben What are you doing here? His head shot up, his eyebrows raised, Taking Care of you? Don’t worry, I’m not about to force my cooking on you, I stopped by my mum’s, she said She hopes you feel better soon. And tears had welled in her eyes as he wrapped his arms tightly around her, warmth and security seeping into her bones. And as he lay next to her in bed for the rest of the afternoon, his voice softly reading Little Women Sophie could barely choke back the words I want to spend the rest of my life with you.      

[narumi-gens]

Kintsugi | Chapter 1

Nanami Kento/Reader

summary: No one understood the intricacies of the soul better than you did. That was why you were all too aware of how damaged and brittle your own was. But Nanami would always be there to help you mend the cracks and keep it from shattering completely.  warnings: 18+ minors dni, angst, hurt/comfort, PTSD, alcohol as a coping mechanism, mentions of panic attacks, Gojo is his own content warning words: 6.4k chapters: i • ii • iii series masterlist

Read on AO3

“Mama, why don’t people just throw away their stuff when it breaks?” you asked as you watched from your mother’s side as she carefully used a thin paintbrush to apply black lacquer along the crack that ran down the side of the small bowl in her hand. 

You were so engrossed in her elegant movements, following each precise brushstroke with wide eyes, that you missed the amused smile that appeared on her lips at the childish nature of your question. 

“Because these are things that have sentimental value,” she explained, her voice calm and your features scrunched up in confusion.

“What’s that?”

“It means that people feel attached to their things. It would hurt them if they had to throw them away,” she said, not missing a beat as she dipped her brush into the small dish containing a tiny pool of lacquer before resuming the process of repairing the bowl. Every one of her motions was fluid and well-practiced, perfected over years of repetition.

“But it won’t be the same,” you pointed out, leaning in close to the bowl and she paused to give you a better look. 

“It’s still a bowl, isn’t it?” she asked you, carefully setting down the brush and the bowl before turning in her seat to face you.

“But it’s not the same,” you argued with a pout so exaggerated that it made her smile. She reached up a hand and brushed your hair behind your ear in a caring gesture. 

“It’s not? It’s still the same bowl that was loved and cherished as it was passed down through this person’s family. That doesn’t go away just because there are a couple of cracks,” she told you patiently as she took your small hands in hers. “All it needs is to be repaired. That’s what we’re here for — to fix the damage.”

She then pulled you into her lap as she turned back to the work table. She picked up the bowl and her brush once more, resuming the process of applying another layer of lacquer to the crack. 

“Remember this,” she told you, her voice soft in your ear. “While you come from a long line of shamans, this is the real family business — repairing and restoring.”

Your head was pounding. It felt like someone had taken a hammer straight to your skull. It was only made worse when you let out a small groan and the sound sent shooting pains through your temples. Your closed eyelids weren’t enough to block out the brightness of the room, even when you tried to squeeze them shut even tighter. 

As you were slowly dragged kicking and screaming to consciousness, the worse your headache became. With another pathetic moan, you pulled your blanket over your head and buried your face in your pillow. Hopefully, your blanket cocoon was all you needed in order to go back to sleeping off your raging hangover.

But of course, it was never that easy. 

The longer you tried to fall back asleep, the more aware you became of a buzzing in the periphery of your senses, almost like a fly that wouldn’t go away. This must have been what had woken you up in the first place.

The more attention you paid to it, the more obvious it became — as if a big, flashing, neon sign was directing your attention to the disturbance. And when you recognized the cursed energy at the center of it all, you realized that it wasn’t someone who would let you easily ignore them.

Gathering all of your strength, you reached a hand out from the safety of your futon and blindly searched for your phone. As you dragged it back into the darkness of your cocoon, you cracked open an eye to look at the screen, wincing harshly at its brightness.

As you eventually adjusted to the sudden source of light, you saw that it was almost three in the afternoon. But what really caught your attention were the notifications waiting for you. 

Gojo Satoru 21 Missed Calls

Gojo Satoru 63 Messages

“What the fuck?” you grumbled. You unlocked your phone and opened his barrage of messages. Instead of scrolling all the way to the top to see where the thread began, you simply looked at the most recent ones.

[2:27] Gojo Satoru: R u awake yet????? [2:42] Gojo Satoru: I’ve been waiting for over an hour!!!!! [2:43] Gojo Satoru: Ur hungover aren’t you? [2:43] Gojo Satoru: Nanami wouldn’t approve 😏

It took monumental self-control to keep you from throwing your phone at the wall. You also doubted that you had the energy to actually throw it that far even if you had tried to. 

You closed your eyes again and debated whether you should just pretend that you hadn’t seen the notifications, only for your phone to start buzzing as it rang in your hand, the annoying man’s face popping up on the screen. With a tired sigh, you answered the call.

“What?” you immediately asked in lieu of a greeting, your voice rough with sleep.

“Oh! Twenty-second time’s the charm!” Gojo replied cheerfully and his voice was so loud that you had to pull the phone away from your ear and turn down the volume before you could return it. 

“What do you want?” you grumbled in a fruitless attempt to get straight to the point.

“What? I can’t just stop by for a visit?” he asked, wounded by the insinuation that he would only come by if he needed something from you.

“No, you can’t.” 

You were met with silence, but you knew for a fact that it wasn’t because you had shut him up. You didn’t need to see him to know that he was wearing a cheeky grin on the other end of the phone, already knowing that he had won. You let out a loud exhale and you were positive that his grin grew wider in response.

“The gate’s unlocked,” you told him before abruptly hanging up, not giving him the opportunity to reply with some smartass comment about how he knew you wouldn't be able to resist him. 

You took a deep breath, praying to the gods for strength before slowly sitting up, your blanket falling down to your waist. Another pained groan left you as the sunlight streaming in through the shoji assaulted your eyes and you buried your face in your hands in a poor attempt to block it out. 

For a brief moment, you debated whether or not you should just collapse back into the futon. But you quickly pushed away the idea, knowing that if you left Gojo to wait for too much longer, he would come and find you and there would be no mercy when he did. 

So, as much as it physically pained you, you dropped your hands, slowly opened your eyes, and began the arduous process of stumbling to your feet and out of the futon. With another groan, and feeling like you had somehow aged fifty years overnight, you reached down and picked up the discarded pair of sweatpants that you had drunkenly removed before passing out that morning. 

It took every ounce of training that had been ingrained in you since you were young to keep from falling over as you struggled to pull them on. You wondered if your ancestors were looking on in disapproval from the afterlife as you put your skills to use to simply survive your hangover. 

As you began to head to the bathroom, you tripped on the way out of your room and your shoulder hit the doorframe, giving you yet another reason to curse Gojo. You shuffled your way down the hall, hoping that brushing your teeth and washing your face would help wake you up.

But as you turned on the light and stared at your reflection in the bathroom mirror through bleary eyes, you knew that it would take more than simply washing up to make you look like you were back in the land of the living. Your hair was a mess, your eyes were bloodshot, the bags underneath them were massive, and the oversized shirt that you had slept in was full of wrinkles.

It looked like you had been on a week-long bender. 

You brought up your hands and squished your cheeks together, frowning at how puffy they looked. Maybe you should give the drinking a rest, at least for today.

But then you remembered who was waiting for you and quickly tossed that idea aside. 

You made quick work of cleaning up, deciding to forgo doing anything else about your appearance. It wasn’t like you needed to impress Gojo. 

As you turned off the bathroom light, you realized that the aforementioned man’s signature cursed energy wasn’t patiently waiting for you to greet him outside as you had expected. No, instead you could feel it inside the house — like you were in your very own horror movie. 

“Does that man have no sense of boundaries?” you asked yourself bitterly, already knowing the answer to your question. 

You followed his energy as you made your way through the sprawling house, the soles of your bare feet padding against the wooden floors until you reached the large room at the center of it. The shoji had been pushed aside, opening the entire room to the view of the gardens as well as the man standing on the wooden engawa, his hands casually in his pockets and his back turned to you.

“There you are!” Gojo greeted you enthusiastically with a wide smile, spinning around to face not even a moment after your entrance. “Took you long enough.”

The dull pounding in your head worsened, but you would place the blame for it on Gojo rather than your hangover. 

“When I told you the gate was open, it wasn’t an invitation to make yourself at home,” you grumbled as you walked towards him, squinting the entire way as you moved further and further into the sunlight. 

“I figured this was easier. Considering how hungover you are, it would have taken you ages just to make it to the door,” he grinned and you let out an annoyed huff as you eventually came to a stop at his side on the engawa. He took advantage of your close proximity to lean in and look at you closely through his sunglasses. “Woah, you look awful.”

If your hangover wasn’t currently making you its bitch then you would have at least made an effort to punch him in retaliation. 

“Thanks for that,” you instead chose to reply sarcastically. 

“I mean it!” he continued, never knowing when to shut up. “You look like you just went three rounds with a special grade curse and lost each one — badly.”

You felt your eyebrow twitch.

“This is why you’re single,” you snapped back at him. The amusement was rolling off of him in waves as he made no attempt to hide how much he was enjoying this. “What woman could stand to put up with you for more than five minutes?”

“I’ll have you know that I’m never short on offers.” His grin turned smug and your eyes rolled so hard that you were surprised they didn’t fall out of your head. 

“That’s because they haven’t had to deal with your personality,” you mumbled, a wave of exhaustion crashing over you. Dealing with Gojo was exhausting. It was always exhausting. 

No longer possessing the strength or the will to keep standing, you dropped down to sit on the veranda before quickly making the decision to sprawl out on the wooden walkway instead. You tossed your arm over your eyes to block out the sun, but for as much as its brightness exacerbated your hangover, you couldn’t deny how good its warmth felt against your skin. 

“You doing okay?” 

The characteristic playfulness had ebbed slightly, sincere concern peeking through. You appreciated the question. It reminded you that for as much as he annoyed you to no end, when all was said and done, Gojo was a man who could be counted on when you needed it.

You nodded from underneath your arm and you heard the wood creaking as he plopped down to sit next to you. You lifted your arm just enough to see that he was sitting with his legs hanging off the engawa, his back to you as he looked out into the garden. 

“Yeah, just been busy. There have been a lot of repair requests lately,” you explained with a yawn. “So, to what do I owe the pleasure of having the great Gojo Satoru coming all the way out here just to see me?”

“Why does there have to be a reason? Why can’t I just want a break from city life and want to see an old friend?” he asked, seemingly offended that you would question his intentions.

“There’s rarely anything you do that doesn’t have an ulterior motive.” The lack of bite in your voice undercut the harshness of your words. 

There was a long silence. As Gojo let it stretch on, it was filled with the sounds of the cicadas in the garden and the tinkling of the wind chimes, the paper charms hanging from them flapping in the light breeze. If it weren’t for being so aware of his cursed energy at your side, you may even have been able to fall back asleep. 

“Have you talked to Nanami lately?”

The question took you by surprise. Gojo was always sticking his nose into other people’s business, but he wasn’t one to travel across the country to do it in person when a simple phone call or text would do. 

“Yeah, just the other day. Why?”

“What’d you talk about?” he prodded, ignoring your question and you could feel a small sense of dread beginning to build deep in your gut. 

“That seems kinda personal, doesn’t it?”

You expected some sort of teasing remark. When you didn’t get one, you knew that whatever he was here to discuss was something serious.

“I was hoping I could convince you to come back to Tokyo with me,” he finally said and you let out a humorless laugh.

“Good luck with that,” you huffed. 

“There’s something I could use your help with,” he continued, ignoring your rapidly souring mood. 

“Get someone else.”

Hoping to put an end to the conversation, you turned onto your side to face the house’s interior, your back pointedly to Gojo. 

“When you talked to Nanami, did he tell you anything about his latest assignment?” he asked and there was something gentle in his tone, like he wanted to be careful with you. 

Suddenly, it felt like the sun’s warmth could no longer reach you, leaving only the coldness that had made its home deep inside of you to unfurl. You traced a finger along the wooden floor you were laying on, following the grain as you debated whether or not to say the words.

“I called him because I felt someone trying to interfere with his soul,” you finally murmured, closing your eyes as you curled in on yourself. “He said it was nothing. He promised me it was nothing.”

You hesitated, afraid to ask your next question because you were unsure of what the answer would be.

“Is he alright?” There was a sudden raspiness to your voice. 

“Oh, he’s fine. You know Nanami. Nothing fazes him,” he assured you, the superficiality in his tone putting you at ease. It felt like a small weight had been lifted from your chest. But then Gojo’s demeanor turned serious once more. “There was a cursed spirit causing a mess in Kawasaki. He uses his technique to change the shape of the soul.”

Your eyes shot open. You lifted your head and looked over your shoulder at him with shock. He had turned away from the garden to face you, one leg folded in front of him while the other hung off the side of the engawa. You let his words sink in, trying to comprehend them and their implications. 

“Th-that’s impossible,” you finally managed to stutter out, shaking your head in disbelief before dropping your head back onto the wood. 

In the back of your mind, you knew that wasn’t necessarily true. You supposed it was possible. After all, the soul was complex — it was both fragile and resilient, it was easy to read some times and difficult to understand at others. And, depending on the circumstances, it could be as malleable as it was flexible. So, it was entirely possible that there was a cursed technique out there that could alter the soul’s shape. But to actually use it? That was unimaginable. 

“He changes the shape of the soul to distort the shape of the body,” he explained further and your horror continued to grow. “That’s why you felt a disturbance in Nanami’s soul. ”

Almost instinctively, you closed your eyes and you began to focus. Your cursed energy spiked as you turned your attention inward and reached deep into the depths of your own soul. With practiced ease, you reached past all of the cracks and damaged areas to follow the thread that led hundreds of miles away and which took your cursed energy only a fraction of a second to travel and reach the other side. 

You let out the breath that you didn’t know that you had been holding, relief flooding your veins when you found nothing worrying about the state of Nanami’s soul. You allowed yourself a brief moment to savor its familiar warmth before releasing the cursed technique.

“See? I told you he was fine,” Gojo said, his words breaking through your reverie and you could hear the knowing smile in his voice. 

“Then what do you need me for?” you asked, suddenly feeling tired all over again. There was a lingering sense of melancholy that was beginning to resurface — one that always seemed to make itself known whenever you were reminded of the physical distance separating you and Nanami. It was only underscored when you opened your eyes and were met with the interior of the large house in which you lived alone.

“Two things. We have some of the bodies of the victims in the morgue. They’ve been dead for a couple of days now, so I don’t think you’ll be able to get much out of them,” he told you and he sounded almost dismissive about the entire matter. “But maybe you can give us a better idea of what we’re up against.” 

It sounded like a fruitless endeavor. Only trace amounts of the soul remained in the body after death and even then it was never for long. If it had been days then there was surely nothing left. But Gojo was aware of that, which meant that he was using it as a pretense. You knew better than to be surprised. 

Gojo Satoru was a man whose pretenses had pretenses. 

“And now for the real reason?” you prompted him dryly. 

He was silent and you curiously glanced over your shoulder to see that he had turned back to the garden. He was resting his weight back on his hands and in the stillness of the moment, he almost seemed comfortable — truly comfortable, not like it was part of some superficial facade. 

“I have a new batch of students this year, three of them,” he finally said. You wanted to scoff out a remark that as a teacher, having new students was part of the job. But the uncharacteristic note of wistfulness in his tone held you back. “I would really appreciate it if you would come and take a look at one of them.”

“What’s so special that you need me to take a look?” Although there was no trace of bitterness in your question, your reluctance was evident. The last thing that you wanted was to be dragged back into the world of jujutsu, even if it was only for a favor. 

“Itadori Yuuji. He’s Sukuna’s vessel,” he answered, taking you by surprise. You sluggishly pushed yourself up into a seated position and looked at Gojo’s back with interest.

“I heard he was dead,” you remarked, the words slow to leave you, as if you were thinking each one over carefully. 

Despite having cut as many ties as you could with the jujutsu world, there were still pieces of information that would inevitably make their way to you. The appearance — and untimely death — of Sukuna’s vessel was one of them. 

A visible tension suddenly appeared in Gojo’s shoulders and you tilted your head curiously.

“Dead? More like executed,” he scoffed, his words dripping with disdain. You raised an eyebrow in return. There was a beat of silence before the shadow hanging over him seemed to lift. “But no, for the King of Curses, death is only as permanent as he wants it to be.”

“And what? You want me to take a look at Sukuna’s soul? Make sure that it’s not gonna be a problem?” you guessed off-handedly. 

“I couldn’t care less about Sukuna,” he was quick to correct and you found your interest growing. “This is about Yuuji.”

“And what’s so special about Itadori Yuuji that I need to go all the way to Tokyo just to look at his soul?” 

He lifted his gaze to look up at the clear blue sky through his sunglasses.

“Y’know, I think you’d like him if you met him,” he mused, his words as light as the breeze. “He’s a real earnest kid who really just wants to help others. He thinks it’s only acceptable for people to die natural deaths.”

Gojo was clearly fond of his new student, something about the boy seeming to strike some sort of chord in the world’s strongest sorcerer. But you wanted nothing to do with him.

“He sounds like a fool,” you muttered. However, your tone lacked any bite, a strange haunted quality to it instead.

“He was on this mission with Nanami. I know it was hard on him,” he explained, ignoring your comment. “This was his first real glimpse into how cruel this world can be. I just want you to take a look at his soul and make sure he’s really okay.”

There was a familiar dull ache blooming in your chest. You tried to suppress it but found yourself unable to. You heard a faint voice ringing in your ears, a memory from long ago that you had spent years trying to forget. 

“Nee-chan, we’re kind of lucky, aren’t we?”

“Why?”

“Just about any cursed technique can be used to exorcise curses. But you and me, we can also use ours to help people. How many sorcerers get to say that?”

“Hmm. I guess I never thought of it like that.”

“I’m gonna save as many people as I can. Just you watch!”

Disgust reared its ugly head inside of you. You had poured a lot of time, energy, and alcohol into repressing your memories and the pain that they were associated with. But all it took was one visit from Gojo Satoru and a few words about some teenager to have you on the verge of spiraling. 

“No,” you suddenly spat out. “I won’t do it.” 

You then stood up and made to walk away, a pointed end to the conversation. You had barely taken a few steps, your feet only just crossing over the shoji track to enter the living room when Gojo began to speak.

“Do you know who Yuuji reminds me of? Tadashi.”

You froze. Hearing the name spoken aloud for the first time in what may have been years felt like an arrow through the heart. You forced yourself to take a deep breath and your voice was shaking with your next words.

“I don’t think you’re trying to be outright manipulative,” you replied, choosing to be generous towards Gojo. “But even still, you’re being cruel.”

The admonishment hung in the air between you. But it wasn’t enough to deter him from continuing.

“Yuuji has a big heart,” he said softly. “You know better than any of us what that does to people in this line of work.”

It felt like there was a lump in your throat that was difficult for you to swallow down. 

“I’ll do everything in my power to protect his heart, and the hearts of my other students, for as long as I can,” he explained, a bittersweet note shining through as he spoke. “They’re only kids.”

“So were we,” you breathed, but there was no maliciousness left in you. All that remained was a tiredness that you felt deep in your bones. 

You closed your eyes and let your head fall back as you took a deep breath. When you opened them again and looked ahead, what you saw had you gasping loudly in horror.

Your younger brother stood before you, his face one that you only ever saw in pictures and nightmares these days. But instead of the image of your brother that you had grown up with — the one that always wore a wide smile and whose eyes were always shining with hope — it was the image of your brother as you had last seen him. 

A wide gash stretched across the entirety of his neck, all the way from one ear to the other. The jagged edges of skin where a blade had sliced into him were coated in the blood that was drenched down the front of his white, short-sleeved button-up. His eyes, once so full of life, were now completely vacant. 

Unable to help yourself, your gaze followed the trail of red all the way to where it was dripping onto the tatami mats, staining them permanently. You saw that all that remained of his toes were bloody stumps as he stood barefoot in the pool of his own blood. You didn’t need to see his hands to know that his fingers had received the same violent treatment.

 Fearfully, you shut your eyes and let your cursed energy flare out wildly as you reached for his soul. When the only other soul you found was Gojo’s behind you, you opened your eyes and your brother was gone. 

“Hey, you okay?” 

You whirled around to face Gojo who was now standing only a few feet from you. His sunglasses were in his hand as he watched you warily, his startling blue eyes roving over you before darting past your shoulder and then returning back to you. 

You could only give him a shaky nod as your heart pounded in your chest. But then you heard a warbling gurgle echoing in your ears.

“N-n-nee-chan…he-help-p…m-m-m-me…”

A wave of nausea hit you and you shoved past Gojo as you raced to the engawa, clumsily jumping from it before collapsing to your knees in the grass. Your fingers were gripping onto the blades of grass so tightly that you were pulling them from the ground as you began to retch. The sounds of your dry heaving filled the garden, nothing in your stomach for you to throw up. 

Even through your turmoil, you maintained enough control over your cursed energy to look at your own soul once again. Your cursed energy instinctively reached out to grasp onto the traces of Nanami’s soul that had made their home inside of yours over the years. You greedily drank in the warmth that washed over you as clung onto the pieces of his soul desperately, allowing the sensation to soothe you until your heaving eventually subsided. 

Your eyelids fluttered open as you panted and you stared down at the grass below you. You could feel Gojo at your side and you looked at him from the corner of your eye to see that he was sitting beside you, his arms lazily wrapped around his knees. 

Using the back of your wrist, you wiped your mouth as you sat up. You then rubbed your palms together to brush away the blades of grass that you had tugged from the ground before dropping them to your knees. 

“This whole jujutsu world is wrong,” Gojo finally said, his voice filled with conviction. “I won’t let it destroy these kids before I can fix it.”

It was only when you softly sniffled that you realized that you were crying. As you quickly wiped away the tears that had rolled down your cheeks, you let his words sink in. Another memory flashed through your mind, this one nowhere near as violent or upsetting as your previous ones, but painful all the same.  

“As much as your body hurts when you’re injured, it’s nothing compared to how much the soul can hurt. But there aren’t hospitals for the soul like there are for the body. That’s why we’re here. We can fix what others can’t.”

Your mother’s words were so clear in your ears that it was almost enough for you to feel a ghost of her caring touch along your cheek. You brushed away another tear before you began to stand on shaky legs.

“You can stay the night,” you rasped. You then turned around and headed back to the house. “We can leave in the morning.”

As you stumbled into your studio, you made a beeline for the worktable against the wall —  the same worktable that your mother had spent countless hours hunched over — and collapsed into the chair beside it. You folded your arms across the tabletop and then dropped your forehead to rest against them. 

You took in a deep breath and held it for five seconds before releasing it and then pausing for another five seconds only to repeat it all over again. Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Hold.

And over again. 

Inhale.

Hold.

Exhale.

Hold. 

And over and over and over.

Finally, when your heart was beating steadily in your chest and your hands were no longer shaking, you lifted your head and stared tiredly at the table in front of you. Your mind was blessedly blank but you didn’t know how much longer that would last, not with everything that had just happened and with what was in store for you over the next couple of days.

You needed something to do with your hands. You glanced over to the wooden cabinet across the room before dismissing its contents. You had only just set aside the pieces you had been working on repairing last night to dry, staying up into the early hours of the morning to finish them. They wouldn’t be ready for the next step in the repair process for another two weeks. 

You debated sneaking back into the house to grab a bottle of sake that you could lose yourself inside of, only to quickly dismiss the idea because you knew that you would never go undetected by Gojo.

Instead, almost unconsciously, your hand reached into the pocket of your sweatpants and pulled out your phone. Before you knew what you were doing, you were holding it to your ear as you waited for your call to be accepted. 

“Hello?” Nanami answered and as soon as you heard his voice, it felt like you could breathe again, relief flooding through your veins. 

“Hey, it’s me,” you murmured. “Am I catching you at a bad time?”

“Never,” came the easy reply and you smiled to yourself. “Is everything alright?”

The cold sense of dread that had been present in your chest ever since Gojo had arrived disappeared when you heard the warmth in Nanami’s question. 

“Just a bit of a bad day,” you sighed.

“Why? What happened?”

You scoffed and your eyes rolled to the ceiling with annoyance. 

“Gojo Satoru is what happened,” you told him. 

“Ah,” he said knowingly. Nanami’s tolerance for Gojo’s antics was even lower than yours. 

You chewed on your bottom lip anxiously as you debated what to say next. He patiently let you take your time, the comfortable silence stretching on. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you finally asked, the question making you feel small. 

“About what?” To anyone else, his response might have seemed dismissive. But you knew better — you knew him better. 

“That there was a cursed spirit trying to distort your soul,” you said, your tone slightly hurt. “You promised me it was nothing.”

There was a pause as Nanami absorbed your words.

“I didn’t want you to worry,” he eventually replied. Rather than sounding patronizing or condescending, his words were spoken kindly. He then let out a quiet sigh of his own. “I thought it would be easier for you if you didn’t know.”

“I always want to know, Kento,” you were quick to assure him. The idea of Nanami being in danger or hurt while you had no knowledge of it was a painful one.

“Then you’ll always know,” he agreed and you quietly let out a relieved exhale. “I promise.”

“Thank you,” you whispered and you could imagine the soft smile that was surely playing on his lips. It probably matched the one on yours.

“I should be the one thanking you. It was the protection that your soul gave mine that saved me,” he told you and your eyebrows raised slightly with interest for a brief moment. “Thank you for saving my life.”

“Always,” you breathed, the promise quiet but no less heartfelt as it left you. “I’ll be coming back to Tokyo with Satoru tomorrow. Something about one of his students.”

Nanami hummed thoughtfully on the other end.

“Itadori Yuuji,” he offered.

“Satoru said he was with you for this whole cursed spirit mess,” you explained. “He asked me to check his soul, make sure it's alright.”

“It’s not a bad idea,” he said. “Itadori-kun has a strong will, but this was a tough mission for anyone. Especially for a child.”

You could hear everything Nanami wasn’t saying — his clearly growing fondness for the teen, his concern over his spiritual well-being, and his own frustration with a system that demanded so much of children. 

“I’ll make sure he’s alright,” you told him, hoping to put his mind at ease. 

There was a moment of silence and you could practically hear him thinking.

“You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” he said. There was a sternness in his voice that usually melted away whenever he was with you. It was a signal that what he was saying was meant to be taken seriously. “You walked away from it all. I don’t want you being dragged back into it out of some unwarranted sense of duty. Gojo-san doesn’t get the final say in this.”

You appreciated his reassurance more than you could put into words. 

There were times, late at night when the alcohol didn’t seem to be doing the trick, that you questioned whether or not you had made the right decision. Maybe the benefit of helping people was worth the high cost to your soul. But then you would remember how willing those at the top of the jujutsu world had been to treat your family like sacrificial lambs and it was enough to convince you that you had made the right decision.

It was comforting to know that Nanami was on your side, no matter where you landed. 

Turning your attention back to the present, you sighed tiredly. You looked out the window of your studio at the trees just outside. A strange feeling of peace crept up on you, one that you hadn’t felt in so long that it felt foreign. 

“Itadori Yuuji sounds like a genuine kid,” you thought aloud, your tone unusually wistful. “It seems kind of wrong to let this world ruin that.”

Another memory flashed in your mind for the briefest second. Tadashi’s familiar, joyous laughter faintly resounded in your ears. 

“Nee-chan, I’m gonna be a hero that people can count on when they need help!”

The pain that would normally have accompanied the memory was nowhere to be found. Instead, to your complete and utter surprise, you found a bittersweet smile playing at your lips. Your eyes were prickling with tears that began to form but you didn’t have the heart to wipe them away. 

“Especially if it’s in my ability to help,” you continued, the words sounding like something from a lifetime ago as they left your lips. You mulled over the way they tasted and you felt something buried deep inside of you stirring. 

“You’ll be here tomorrow afternoon?” Nanami asked, gently putting an end to your introspection.

“Yeah, I’ll text you the details,” you answered, grateful for the opportunity to push away all of the complicated emotions that had been raging inside of you. “I’m trusting you to find somewhere good for dinner, alright? I’m sick of eating at the same restaurant over and over again just because it’s the only one within a thirty-minute drive.”

Nanami’s quiet chuckle on the other end of the call felt like a soothing balm for your soul.

“Alright. Have a safe trip,” he said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Thanks. See you tomorrow,” you repeated and your next words left you so easily that saying them was almost as instinctive as breathing. “Love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

You ended the call and slid your phone back in your pocket, the corners of your lips slightly turned upwards and your heart thrumming with something it felt like you never got to experience — excitement. 

But whatever lightheartedness you were feeling came crashing down when there was a knock on the door before it opened a second later so that Gojo could pop his head in. 

“You left me all alone,” he pouted and you began to rub your temples in hopes of staving off the inevitable headache. “What’s there to do around here anyway?”

You sighed loudly and pushed your chair away from the table to stand up. 

“There’s nothing to do. Why do you think I drink so much?” you grumbled as you made your way towards him, shoving him out of the way so that you could leave the studio. As you breathed in the fresh air, you found an unexpected calmness settling over you. 

“Because you’re an alcoholic,” came the sing-songy reply. 

You felt your eye twitch as that sense of calm came shattering down around you.

[sylvies-chen]

Suggestions - Melendaire

(AO3 link)

// Neil accidentally lets something slip on a drowsy Sunday morning in bed with his girlfriend. Claire, naturally, panics. //

Word count: 2384

Neil Melendez wakes up with Claire Browne in his arms just about every morning.

The feeling still hasn’t gotten old.

Their one-year anniversary is coming around the corner. Just under two weeks away, the surgeon realizes when he does the math in his head. And even after all this time, the feeling of waking up with her head on his shoulder and tucked under his arm has never lost its luster. The rush of excitement and pure affection still rushes through his veins all the same. He’s still groggy as that dawns on him, barely awake enough to move away from the blinding sunlight coming in from the bedroom window. All he does is squint and tilt his head the other way, right into Claire’s brown curls. Getting a face full of hair should bother him, but he’s used to it by now— it only makes him smile.

They don’t need to get up right away today. It’s one of their few days off, which means they’ll spend most of the morning the way they usually do when they get a day off: sleeping in for a while, going a few rounds if they’re in the mood, and then making pancakes for breakfast. It’s a nice routine they’ve gotten into over the past year, one that’s made Neil dread work the next day. He just likes spending time with her too much; likes getting lost in her and her soft brown eyes.

Suddenly, he feels her stirring in his arms and she opens her eyes, waking up slowly with a tired moan. “What time is it?”

“Early,” he replies, sitting up in the bed leaning against the backboard.

“Ugh, I hate early. I want to kill early,” Claire groans. “Do we have to get up?”

“No. It’s our day off, we can sleep in. No surgeries, no difficult patients, no paperwork. None of it.”

“Good,” Claire sighs contentedly, pressing a lazy kiss to his cheek and sitting up to snuggle into him. “I like staying here with you.”

“I like it too,” he admits, smiling. “Hey, what do you say we go running this afternoon?”

“Yeah? You think we’ll be fully awake by then?”

“Definitely,” he affirms. “We can sleep in and then go after lunch. And the only thing I love more than you and my work is beating you at the track.”

“Oh, really funny, Neil,” she quips sarcastically, giggling. “If you win, it’s because you cheat!”

“I prefer to call it being creative,” he protests. “Besides, you’re the one who keeps falling for the old ‘fake an injury’ trick. I’ve done it a hundred times now and you fall for it every time.”

“Well excuse me for trying to be a good girlfriend,” she mumbles teasingly, accepting defeat.

“Don’t worry though, sweetheart. When I beat you this afternoon, it’ll be fair and square,” he comforts teasingly, pressing a kiss to her head. They normally spend their mornings like this too— exchanging quick kisses.

“You’re unbelievable,” Claire giggles. “Always so—“

“Arrogant?” He guesses the end of her sentence, because it’s one of the first things she’d called him when she came to St. Bonaventure’s.

“Self-assured,” she corrects him. “But if you want to say arrogant then I won’t argue with that.” She gives him a teasing smirk, which sends them both into a fit of laughter.

“I want to marry you,” he lets out as he chuckles, before he can really think about it.

Oh crap. Something he hadn’t even expected to say, something lingering underneath the surface of his mind, just slipped out.

Oh crap. Claire’s staring at him with eyes like a deer in headlights.

Oh crap. What the hell did he just say?

It’s not like he doesn’t want to marry her. He definitely does. They’ve been dating for quite some time now, ever since that close call during the earthquake nearly a year ago. But they’d both agreed to take things slowly, especially since it had taken everyone at work a little while to adjust to the idea of him and Claire in a relationship. Dr. Melendez and Dr. Browne, secret lovers. It wasn’t exactly a smooth transition, but they’d weathered it together. He loves her and she loves him, that’s all that ever really mattered. Now, they’ve built this life together— a routine of date nights and tender kisses. He’s never felt happier, and his love for her has only grown stronger with time.

So yeah, the thought of marrying her has crossed his mind more than once. Although apparently, it’s crossed his mind more frequently than he’d thought because here he is, blurting out a proposal while tangled up in bed with his girlfriend on a Sunday morning.

“What?” Claire gets out of bed and stands up, pulling the sheet up to cover her chest. Suddenly, through Neil’s fault and his fault alone, she’s wide awake and alert.

Neil winces, his nose scrunching up into his eyes. “Nothing. I mean, I didn’t— that’s not...”

“Oh my god,” she lets out, quiet and stunned as she gets up out of the bed and takes the sheet with her, keeping it wrapped around her body. “You just asked me to marry you?!”

“No no no,” he replies frantically, reaching to grab his boxers and yanking them on before standing up to face her. The bed separates them, but her eyes are wild and piercing with shock. He knows he’s just done something monumentally stupid. “That wasn’t a proposal, I swear.”

“Then what the hell was that?”

“It was...” he pauses to rack his brain for something to say to get him out of the corner he’s backed himself into, and he only lands on one thing. “... a suggestion,” he finishes with a shrug.

“A suggestion?” She looks at him skeptically, her arms crossed in front of her.

“Yes,” he confirms hesitantly.

“Ok, that’s it,” she nods curtly. “you’re insane. This— this is insane!”

“Look, I’m sorry,” he apologizes. “It was a nice moment, I was happy and still half asleep, and- and it just slipped out. Like it or not, I said it. But if you want to go back and pretend like it didn’t happen then fine, we can do that.”

“Well we can’t go back now, Neil,” she huffs. “I can’t go on pretending you didn’t just say that. I mean— god, I can still hear it in my head even now! We need to talk about it.”

“Ok,” he sighs— a little defeatedly, since he has a gut feeling that this conversation isn’t going anywhere he likes (and his gut has never steered him wrong, being a surgeon has taught him that much). “The floor’s open for discussion, Browne. How do you want to go about this?”

He tries to be as clinical as possible he waits for a response. This whole situation is a little embarrassing, really. In the small amount of time since they’ve woken up in each other’s arms, Neil’s somehow managed to blurt out a proposal to his girlfriend of less than a year and has nearly ruined everything. They’re both standing on opposite sides of the bed, in nothing but their underwear, and Neil swears the tension is thick enough to choke them to death. He can picture his colleagues attempting some hypothetical surgery, can picture calling the time of death of their relationship and marking the cause of death off as asphyxiation on some intangible substance. It’s funny, in some weird and twisted way. He’s beating himself up over where this conversation is heading, but at least Glassman would get a kick out of it.

But then, by some miracle, it doesn’t head that way at all.

Claire exhales quietly, deep in thought. Melendez can see her muscles relaxing, the tension leaving from her shoulders as she sits back down on the bed. She leans in a little, staring shyly at her fingers sunken into the bedsheets. “Well, for starters... I think you should ask me again.”

“What?” His brows furrow as a small smile creeps onto his face. Neil sits down across from her on the bed, delightfully stunned. “Are you being serious?”

“I am,” she replies calmly. Her tone is a hell of a lot calmer than Neil feels right now. He can practically feel the excitement rushing through his veins.

Is she saying what he thinks she’s saying?

Neil hasn’t expected this conversation to come for a long time. They grew into each other’s love in time, but it doesn’t erase the scars they have. Claire’s pain and trauma is actually what made her so scared to admit she loved him in the first place. It’d taken him being on the brink of death for her to admit her feelings. Now, they’ve finally grown more comfortable with their feelings but Neil still knows that taking it slow is the right move. It’s why he was so surprised when that proposal slipped off his tongue. Proposing after nearly a year of dating isn’t exactly moving at a slow pace. He supposes his feelings for her— the overwhelming urge to marry her— overcame all the voices of reason telling him to take it easy for fear of scaring her off.

Now though? Now it’s a whole different story.

He stays quiet for a second too long and the small smile on her face fades, bringing in a nervous glance instead. “I mean, only if you want to ask me,” she adds awkwardly after a moment.

“God yes I do,” he assures her. It sparks a small giggle from Claire, her eyes now sparkling and glossy with what Melendez thinks are tears of joy. “I just... I figured you might want it to be a bit different from this. I don’t even have a ring.”

“Well you know me, I’ve always hated romantics,” she dismisses with a watery chuckle.

He laughs in return and smiles until his cheeks hurt. The space between them on the bed slowly closes as Neil inches forward, dragging the sheets with him and taking her hands in his. “You... you are the single best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he starts. The awe in his own voice surprises him a little, but it’s not unexpected. Spend enough time around Dr. Browne and you’ll get used to incredible. That’s what he’d said around a year ago, and it still rings true now. He’s also said being around her makes him a better surgeon and person, which is also very true. She just makes him better, in everything he does. “I love you more than I thought was possible. So, Dr. Browne...” Claire lets out another watery laugh but her hands start to shake in his, so Neil holds them tighter. “... Will you marry me?”

There’s a moment where everything is quieter than silence. Neil starts hearing ringing in his ears, a throbbing sensation that this could go very wrong. Or, as he suspects (and hopes), it could go very very right. And he knows this is weird— that not-so accidentally proposing to your girlfriend while half-naked on a Sunday morning isn’t exactly the traditional way to ask someone to spend the rest of their life with you— but he just doesn’t care. Neil wants to have a life with her. He wants the whole package, the thing they’ve both been searching for long before finding each other. The life they’d almost given up hope on. And not for the first time since he’s met her, he wants it with Claire Browne.

And the silence is broken, like a dam flooding with a river that ends up only being one word. “Yes,” she whispers, tears welling up in her eyes. “Yes, I will marry you.”

Neil can tell, even without looking in a mirror, that his face lights up at those words. His cheeks hurt from smiling so widely, his body practically aches for her.

A year ago, he wouldn’t have dreamed of unprofessional touches or intimate moments. He’d been so scared to cross the line, the point of no return. But now, he’s about to spend the rest of his life with the most talented, kind, incredible woman he’s ever met, and he doesn’t have to be scared. He leans over, meets her in the middle of the bed while on their knees, and kisses her without hesitation.

It’s sweet, the way Claire’s kiss is always a sweet release to him, and beautiful. Admittedly, he feels tears of his own coming on and tastes the salt streaming onto their lips from both of their eyes.

Claire pulls away after a while, laughing and smiling while crying. They’re both blubbering messes at this point, filled with overwhelming tenderness.

“What do we do for a ring?” Neil finally asks after they both compose themselves a little bit.

Claire looks around the room, ruffles around the drawer of the nightstand for something, and then finally pulls out a sharpie. “Here,” she says, pulling the cap off. Melendez watches in shock as Claire scribbles a line all the way around her ring finger, forming the trace of a ring with black ink. “It’s not a permanent solution, but it’ll do.”

Neil laughs giddily. Only Claire Browne would draw an engagement ring on her finger. There’s truly no one like her, and he loves her for it. “It looks beautiful, Dr. Browne,” he teases.

“It’s just until we get something nice. And when we do, it better not be anything big or tacky or expensive. But that’s just my preference. You know— just a suggestion,” she finishes with a smirk.

“Right,” he chuckles. “And I suggest you kiss me now.”

“That can be arranged,” she quips back teasingly, smiling as she leans in with her hands on his bare chest.

Neil smiles into the kiss, his lips pressing against hers. His hands find her hips and pull her in until they’re flush against each other. They crash onto the bed in a frenzy of blankets, Neil settling on top of her gently, and he sees Claire’s beaming smile and the black ink around her ring finger.

It’s the last thing he sees before he moves in to kiss her again. Neil tastes her lips on his, and thinks proposing to her was the best suggestion he ever made.

[onlysarah235678]

A Little Bit Part 18

Pairing: Billie Dean Howard x female reader

A/N: Hi I’m back! Exam week kicked my ass and I feel like my brain cells are gone, but here’s another chapter! This gif makes me feel things.❤️

Warnings: annoying interview people. I think that’s it?

Billie is already gone for the first interview by the time you wake up. She told you the night before that she didn’t want to wake you this time and you hadn’t argued. After dinner your headache had come back and despite taking your medicine, it followed you into sleep. You had woken up briefly when Billie left, but your head was hurting too much to stay awake. You may have thanked her when she said that she would walk and feed Milo before leaving him in the living room.

Now you were up and about and feeling a lot better. After taking your medication and drinking an obscene amount of water, you are able to make your way downstairs to Milo. He’s waiting patiently for you which is a bit of a surprise, but you’re glad to see that he’s gotten the restlessness out of his system. You scratch him behind the ears and let him lick your hand before you head for the kitchen. It’s already 9 am and you know Billie will be on soon, but you also know that watching her interview right now would make your headache worse.

You plan on watching it later, once you’re feeling better, but for now you’re more concerned about breakfast. You open the fridge and grab a handful of ingredients before you get cooking. Your phone buzzes when you’re finishing up, and you turn around to where you set it on the counter with a sigh. You need to learn to silence your phone since it only seemed to go off when you had a headache.

Hi Doc, hope you’re feeling better!

You smile in surprise at the message from Erin. You hadn’t been expecting to hear from her again, but you’re glad to. You message her for a few minutes before she mentions your car. She says that nothing has happened, but that she and Lindsey were willing to bring it by your apartment or Billie’s if you wanted. They would be free later today since they only worked a half shift. You’re tempted to tell her not to worry about it because you really don’t need your car, but you’re paranoid and would like to have it nearby.

Eventually you tell Erin that you will be here all day and if she and Lindsey really want to, they can bring it. There is a spare key in your desk because within the first week of working there you had locked your keys in your car and that had been embarrassing to deal with. You told Erin some of this before thanking her and finally getting to your breakfast. You nearly trip over Milo when you turn to leave the kitchen. You hadn’t realized that he was now sitting right beside you, and you curse under your breath as you nearly fall on your face and drop all of your food.

“Shit! Milo. Watch out!”

Milo just stares at you waiting until you decide to move again, and you just sigh before shaking your head. You shoot him a look before rolling your eyes when he fails to respond.

“What are we going to do all day, Milo?”

As soon as Billie was off the set, she was lighting a cigarette. She was ticked off and she wanted to get out of here as quickly as possible. She definitely could have done without this interview, but unfortunately she had underestimated people’s interest in her love life. She sighs as she pushes open the door to the outside and hurries across the parking lot to her car. She didn’t get in it immediately, despite her rush because she didn’t want it smelling like smoke.

Billie leans against her car with another sigh that quickly becomes a groan. She wasn’t sure why people were so fixated on her relationship. Sure, it was new and exciting, but it wasn’t anyone’s business but her own. Billie hoped that you hadn’t been watching this one because she talked about her show for maybe a total of five minutes before things took a turn toward her personal life.

She hadn’t said anything more than last time, but this interviewer was definitely pushier about it. He had insinuated things that Billie didn’t appreciate and she had told him this in a way that was difficult to misunderstand.

Of course, he had, or at least pretended to, and she’d had to sit through another five minutes of him trying to not flat out ask if you were sleeping together yet.

Billie puts out her cigarette before getting in her car. She doesn’t know where she’s going because she needs to be at the other studio in a couple of hours, but she doesn’t want to head there yet. She starts the car and begins her drive to nowhere in particular.

She’s still a little peeved and muttering to herself when her phone rings. She pulls into a nearby lot because she knows better than to try and dig through her purse while driving. She grabs it right before it stops ringing and she frowns when she sees that it was you. She is about to call you back when her phone dings as your text comes in.

He was kind of an ass, wasn’t he?”

Billie laughs at this before putting her phone back in her purse. She decides that she’s going to make a detour on her way to her next interview.

You jump in surprise when the front door opens suddenly. You turn quickly to see Billie walking through the door with a tried sigh. You watch as Milo jumps up only to wag his tail when he sees who it is. You jump off the couch before hurrying over to Billie with your arms held out and what you hope is a sympathetic smile.

“Hi. Rough day?”

Billie just groans under her breath before nodding in agreement. She pulls you into a hug and you feel her relax immediately as you hold her tightly. You sigh before speaking into her shoulder because you’re not ready to pull away yet.

“I’m sorry he was such an idiot. You handled him well though. I definitely would not have.”

You laugh slightly before pulling away and leading Billie to the kitchen. You pull out a chair for her at the counter motioning for her to sit down. She does with a small smile before watching you head to the fridge. You aren’t sure what to grab because Billie technically has to leave, you glance at the clock before looking to Billie with a frown.

“Wait, aren’t you supposed to be at your next interview?”

Billie just laughs before taking the offered glass of water with a quiet thank you. You just smile as you lean on the counter and prop your head on your hands. Billie shoots you a look that you just smile at in amusement.

“Why? Are you trying to get rid of me?”

You nod immediately before deadpanning. “Definitely. I have someone coming over soon.”

You watch as Billie rolls her eyes before taking a long sip of her water. You don’t realize you’re staring until Billie speaks and you look up to see her smirking at you.

“Is that right?”

You just nod dumbly because you honestly can’t even remember what you just said to her. You are too busy admiring Billie’s appearance, she’s all made up for television again, to realize that she’s caught on to this, and she reaches out for you. You turn as Billie’s hand moves to your cheek and it takes you a moment to focus on what she’s saying long enough to respond.

“You’re waiting for someone?”

You nod again before saying the first thing that comes to mind. “Yeah. Erin.”

You don’t elaborate as you take a sip of your own water. You’re still forcing yourself to drink as much as possible because it has made your headache better. You take a long gulp before looking back to Billie. She’s frowning and you open your mouth to ask what’s wrong, but she speaks first.

“Erin’s coming over?”

Your eyes widen in realization before you nod and look to the clock again. She wouldn’t be over until later, maybe not until three, and you say this before mentioning what you’d talked about earlier.

“At some point this afternoon yes. She’s dropping off my car.”

Billie doesn’t say anything for a second. She’s thinking about how you shouldn’t be driving yet, but she holds back on saying this before simply asking the obvious question.

You tell Billie about how Erin had checked in on you earlier and then offered to bring your car over.  You make sure to mention that you don’t even want to drive yet, but that you are really a little paranoid about keeping it there. Billie smiles sympathetically at this because she can understand where you’re coming from. She just sighs before pulling out the chair next to her and moving to it before shooting you a questioning look. She pats the chair that she’d been sitting in and you smile slightly before moving to sit next to Billie. The medium wraps an arm around your shoulders with a smirk.

“You know if you wanted me to drive you somewhere, you only had to ask.”

Billie is mostly kidding because she believes that you didn’t really want to go anywhere. Still, she loves to tease you and you half groan, half whine under your breath as you turn to face your girlfriend.

“The only place I want to go Billie, other than the grocery store at some point, is to that restaurant we talked about. If you’re up to it later.”

You watch as Billie’s smile widens and she laughs before leaning in to kiss you. She pulls away before tilting her head slightly.

“You want to go to the grocery store?”

Billie leaves shortly after because she still has an interview to get to. Before leaving, however, she had promised that you two could go shopping once she’s back. You now were just sitting around with Milo waiting until Erin and Lindsey showed up. You had just walked him again and now he was sleeping at your feet as you play a game on your phone. You were tired but restless at the same time, and you didn’t know what to do about it. Finally, you decide that you should go upstairs to check on the kittens. You haven’t felt on any of them in a while, so you figure now was as good a time as any.

You find that Bit is on her way out so you just let her by before you hurry inside to see the kittens. You see them lying in their bed all on top of one another and you smile when you realize that Mickey is on top. He’s shifting in his sleep and you just sit down and watch him kick his siblings as he tries to get more comfortable.

After watching for another minute, you decide to grab him and spare the other kittens. You smile as he mewls in annoyance and you hold him up as you admire how much he’s grown. He’s definitely a little chunky, but you’re not going to tell Billie that, at least not until you’re back at work, but he’s also no longer at the bottom of the pile. Figuratively and literally.

You hold him for a little while longer before putting him back with the rest of the kittens. You don’t want to bother them so you decide to head downstairs and see what Milo is up to. You haven’t heard anything since leaving him which could be good or bad. You expect Bit to be as far away from your dog as possible. You walk down the stairs and nearly fall when you spot Milo in the living room. He is exactly where you left him, licking his paws and lying on the rug. You stop in your tracks though when you see that Bit is practically leaning against Milo as she grooms herself, not a care in the world.

You’re not sure if you’re more surprised by the fact that Bit is hanging out with Milo, or that Milo isn’t paying her any mind. You really wish you had your phone to take a picture to send it to Billie. However, it doesn’t matter for much longer because once you start walking again and reach the bottom of the stairs Milo spots you and he abandons his spot on the rug to come say hi. You smile as you reach out to scratch him.

“Hey, Milo. Making friends?”

He doesn’t respond. Instead, he turns to the front door when the doorbell rings. You are halfway to the kitchen to get your phone, but you turn around and hurry to the door instead. Erin is early.

You usher Milo out of the way, and he’s sitting behind you watching intently as you open the door. Erin and Lindsey are standing on the front porch, the former holding out your keys to you. You smile as you wave the two of them in. They’re in their work clothes so they must have come straight here, which made sense. You peek behind them and see your car parked on the street and you smile wider as you close the door behind them.

“Hi you two. Thank you so much for coming by. I hope it wasn’t too much trouble?”

Both of them shake their heads as they meet Milo who is quick to greet them. He of course recognizes them and it doesn’t take him long to end up on his back asking for scratches. They indulge him for a little while before you lead the pair to the kitchen with a smile.

“Do either of you want anything to drink? Did you just come from work?”

You’re heading to the fridge when Erin responds and you stop short at what she says.

“I’m good, thanks! We did, but it was only a half day so it wasn’t too bad.”

You smile at this before turning to Lindsey who’s nodding in agreement. You turn to see Milo who is sitting at their feet sniffing them. He certainly smells every appointment that each of them had seen today. You are about to call him off when Lindsey reaches out to pet him.

“Yeah, it was the usual, minus you of course. We hope you’re feeling better?”

You smile at this before nodding in confirmation. Your headache comes and goes and it’s worse if you’re doing certain things. It hasn’t been too bad today though. You mention a few other things about how you’ve just been sitting around and you were bored out of your mind before you change the subject. You are excited to get back to work, but you also don’t really want to be back in the public eye again. However, you decide that you need to ask since they just came from work.

“Are there reporters still camped out at work?”

You motion for the two who had just been standing to sit down at the counter. You watch as Erin scowls while Lindsey cringes slightly at your question. You can’t help but sigh in defeat at your wishful thinking. You should have known that it wouldn’t be that easy.

Erin sighs as she sits down and crosses her arms before nodding in confirmation.

“Unfortunately. It’s obvious that you’re not there, but I think they’re just waiting it out.”

Lindsey nods in agreement watching as you frown in annoyance. You just hope that they haven’t been bothering anyone.

“They’re not harassing anyone are they?”

This time Lindsey shakes her head and she mentions how they don’t leave their cars whenever they come by. They appeared at opening like clockwork and left after all the doctors were gone.

“Nope. They’re just waiting. I guess they didn’t see the interviews.”

This makes you stop and you smile slightly as Lindsey stiffens and Erin stops petting Milo when the blonde says this. So they saw Billie’s interviews. You couldn’t help but ask since you knew your opinion was biased as hell.

“You watched Billie’s interviews?”

Erin realizes that there really was no point in trying to lie. She was near obsessed with Billie and she didn’t hide it well. She looks to Lindsey while nodding and admitting what she’d thought about them.

“Yeah, we watched the first one. She’s very good a deflecting.”

You smile slightly at this before you look to the clock. You hope that Billie is doing alright and that she won’t be given too much grief at this next interview.

Billie tries not to fidget as she sits across from her next interviewer in front of a full house. She was about to start the next interview and she was eager to get going because she wants to be done. Specifically, she wants to see you. She hopes that this one goes better than the last because she wasn’t in the mood to deal with invasive questions.

Billie sits up as the host, Dave sighs and smiles at her before glancing to the audience.

“Glad you could join us today; I know we’re all excited to hear about the next season of your show.”

The audience cheers at this and Billie lets out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. She can talk about her show no problem. She could talk anyone’s ear off about how much she loves what she does and how grateful she is to get the chance to help people.

She spends the first ten minutes answering questions about her experiences filming her show. She answers what the scariest part of the season would be, which ironically she’d had nightmares about for a while. Then she talked about her favorite moments. She was most excited for everyone to see the last episode, and she talks about that as much as she can without spoiling it.

They are about half way through the interview when the conversation starts to stray from her show. Billie just smiles and answers the easiest question she’s had all day.

“Yes, for about a month.”

Dave just smiles before he asks a few questions that Billie is sure he and most of the audience already know the answers to. Billie just nods before holding back the urge to sigh at the line of questioning. She manages a smile instead.

“Yes, she’s a vet.”

Dave’s expression changes slightly, and Billie doesn’t know why until he speaks up again. He’s shooting her a curious look, but Billie can tell that he’s holding back a smile, maybe even a smirk. She doesn’t have much time to consider it before he asks his deceptively innocent question.

“Y/N moved here recently, right? How is she adjusting to LA?”

Billie tells the truth. She says that you’ve been here a couple months and you are still getting acclimated to the city. You work a lot and you honestly don’t get out much. Billie says this with a smile and in the nicest way possible. She’s mostly teasing, but she knows you wouldn’t be able to deny it.

Billie smiles before she shrugs and says something about how she’s going to make sure you get out more.

“I’m going to have to show her around once she’s better.”

This prompts Dave to ask about how you’ve been doing since the accident. Billie still hates that word, but she just goes with and says what she told the other two interviewers. Both of them seemed more concerned, or rather sincere, when they asked compared to Dave. It seemed perfunctory and Billie just reminds herself that it wasn’t worth it. At least he was asking.

“She’s doing much better yes. Thank you. “

Dave nods in response before he jumps to the next question. Billie has to remind herself not to react too much at it, but she stiffens a little before she sits up straighter.

“Does Y/N have any family in the area?”

Billie simply shakes her head before saying ‘no’. She decides to keep it short and not give any extra information in hopes that this will tip Dave off. She realizes that her effort is in vain because he just nods before asking her to elaborate.

“She has sisters that live back East, but that’s it.”

Billie knows where this is heading as soon as Dave shoots her a dubious look, but she sincerely hopes she’s wrong.

You sigh as you sit with Milo on the couch just trying to get some rest. You are glad that Erin and Lindsey were able to bring your car over, but talking to them, even for only about twenty minutes did a number on you. Your head started hurting about ten minutes in, but you were trying to power through which of course only made it worse. Luckily it wasn’t nearly as bad as it could be, so you were just riding it out.

You were lying down hoping it would just go away, and after about half an hour you were feeling well enough to risk a couple of minutes on your phone. You knew that Billie was filming her second interview and you hope that it went well for her. You don’t want a repeat of this morning, but there was no way of knowing now. You had to wait until Billie called or came back.

You leave your messages and look at the calendar absentmindedly. You go back to work on Monday and that’s the 5th. You pause as you look at the following week and you sigh before quickly locking your phone. You set it down before sitting up and reaching out for Milo with a sigh. You scratch him for a little bit before motioning for him to follow you. You try not to think too much about the weekend coming up, as you and Milo head to the backyard.

You’ve come to like spending time back here. It’s quiet, private and a great place to nap. You had been tempted to just go back to bed earlier, but it was sunny and you didn’t want Milo’s fur getting on the bed. You put Milo’s leash on and lead him to the edge of the yard so he can pee before taking him back to the deck. You lie down in one of the chairs and motion for Milo to sit beside you. You sigh before leaning back and reaching out to pet him with a yawn.

You stare at the sky for a while before shaking your head. You close your eyes and try not to worry about anything right now. You focus on Billie and your date tonight and that brings a smile to your face. You hope that Billie will be up to going out, but if not you’re sure you will enjoy your time with her regardless. You are quickly realizing that you’re up for doing just about anything with Billie. She’s so easy to be around and you wonder how you’d gone without having someone who so easily calmed you for so long. You definitely had underestimated the importance of having such a presence in your life.

You fall asleep thinking about how you’ll need Billie to keep you grounded in the weeks to come. You don’t wake up to her text messages that come after her interview, and you’re still asleep by the time she gets back.

Billie tries to control her temper. She doesn’t get mad a lot because she doesn’t see the point. There are better things to do than allow someone else to rile you up and manipulate your emotions. For this reason, Billie only frowns before shaking her head in response to Dave’s next question. She is not going to answer what she knows he wants to ask.

He had mentioned your dad earlier and how he’s read that horrible article about how Billie was helping you get over his death. It had portrayed you in an unflattering way and Billie had hated how she’d been described as the saint who fixed all of your problems. She had a lot of issues with this, but she wasn’t going to get into them now. She wasn’t about to talk about your business with anyone but you when she knew how sensitive this subject was. She tried not to be rude as she speaks up calmly, but in a way that should brook no argument.

“That’s not what I came here to talk about.”

Dave doesn’t respond to this immediately instead he watches Billie closely as she holds her ground with a  frown.

“You don’t deny it? That you’ve seen Y/N’s father?”

Billie shakes her head as she shifts slightly in her seat before leaning back. She’s trying to shut this down, but she can’t help but feel the tension that has settled in the studio. It would be so much easier to answer him and get on with the interview. However, she knew she couldn’t do that for multiple reasons. It would be betraying your trust and Billie wouldn’t be able to live with herself if she did that to you. Let alone on ‘live’ television.

“I’m not answering that, Dave because it’s not anyone’s business but Y/N’s.”

Billie nearly sighs in relief as Dave just holds up his hands in surrender, smiling slightly despite how uncomfortable he’s made everything. At least he knows when to admit defeat. He quickly changes the subject and Billie counts down the minutes until she can get out of here.

When they’re off the air only ten minutes later, Dave is sighing as he removes his microphone while shooting Billie a look. She shoots one right back and is standing up to leave before she even finishes her sentence.

“Come on, Billie. You couldn’t have just answered the question?”

Billie scowls at him before rolling her eyes in annoyance. She has had it with him and she wants him to know it. She’s not looking forward to this interview airing, but at least she doesn’t have to worry about it until later. Her main concern was getting out of here before she says something that she would really regret.

“No because it’s none of your damn business Dave.”

Billie doesn’t wait for his response before she leaves the way she came in. She stops by her dressing room to grab her things before practically storming out of the building. She pulls out her phone and starts to text you before she just sighs and deletes it. She needs a few minutes to calm down before she checks in with you.

Billie got in her car and spent the drive home thinking about how she really needed to figure out what to do. She knew that she could keep saying the same thing in the future, refusing to comment, but that would get old fast. Maybe she could keep it up, or maybe it would become old news soon. Billie just hoped that you didn’t want to watch tonight’s interview.

When Billie makes it home, she can think of nothing she wants to do more than change clothes and lie down until dinner. She doesn’t see you, or Milo for that matter, in the living room, so she assumes that you are asleep upstairs. She goes and checks the guest bedroom, but you’re not there either. Maybe you’re walking Milo.

Billie decides to text you before she changes clothes and heads down the hall to check on the kittens. A few minutes later Billie is downstairs in the kitchen for a much-needed drink. She pours herself a glass and turns to the backyard only to stop short when she sees Milo lying on the deck beside one of the chairs. She puts down her glass before moving toward the back door, and she smiles when she sees you fast asleep. She noticed your car out front and realizes that Erin must have dropped by already. She moves to sit next to you in the other chair before telling Milo to be quiet.

He of course greets her with a whine and a couple of licks before doing as he’s told and lying down. Billie sits and just watches you sleep for a couple of minutes. She takes comfort in the sight of you sleeping peacefully and she hates to wake you.

Fortunately or unfortunately, Billie doesn’t have to make that decision because Milo whines loudly enough that you start to stir. Billie sighs in defeat before she just rolls her eyes when Milo tries to jump up next to her. She watches as you groan under your breath before opening your eyes with a frown.

You look around with a sigh and you jump in surprise when you see Billie. You smile as you sit up and turn towards her, but you have to wave Milo away when he tries to get under your feet. You stand up and move to sit next to Billie before you realize that something’s off. She’s smiling, but it doesn’t seem sincere and you frown as you reach out for her.

“Billie, what’s wrong?”

You feel silly the moment the question leaves your mouth because what could be bothering her other than her interview? You must have lost track of time and slept for far longer than you bargained for. You know that you couldn’t have watched it, but you would have liked to at least to be up when she got back.

Billie just squeezes your hand with a sigh before she shakes her head. She is about to lie to you, you know it, so you speak up before Billie can.

“You can tell me the truth. It’s okay. I can take it.”

Billie hesitates for a moment which really tells you all you need to know. You try not to sigh when she does before shaking her head again. She doesn’t want to talk about this with you because she’s afraid you won’t take it well. However, she doesn’t want to lie to you either, so she settles on telling you just the basics for now. The rest will come later. Once she’s had a little more time to process everything.

“My interview didn’t go very well.”

You frown at the expected news before looking to see that Billie was staring off into space. You wonder what they could have said because Billie seems more upset than you would expect.

“I’m sorry, Billie. Can I help in any way?”

Billie’s attention turns to you and she smiles before shaking her head. She looks around for a minute before deciding she wanted to go inside and talk about this.

“No sweetheart, just being back here with you helps.”

You smile at this and follow Billie inside when she stands up and holds out her hand to you. You motion for Milo to follow you, not that you really need to before you watch Billie head back to the kitchen. You see the abandoned glass of wine and realize that you clearly underestimated the time Billie had. You watch as she takes a sip before you move to grab a drink of your own from the fridge. Billie watches this and she berates herself for not asking you.

“Is there anything you want to do? To get your mind off of it?”

You hadn’t expected the answer that Billie gave you, but you were more than happy to do as she asked. You both were now sitting on the couch watching your favorite movie. It’s one you always go to when you need to feel better, and you’re surprised that Billie’s never seen it before. After hearing that you practically demanded you both watch it.

You shift a little to get more comfortable and you’re leaning on Billie before you realize you should probably ask. You don’t get a chance though before her arms wrap around you tighter and she pulls you so you’re practically on top of her. You smile as you turn your head so your face is buried in Billie’s stomach. You stay like that for a while before turning your attention to the screen. You love this movie, and you’re glad to be relaxing, but simply knowing that Billie’s still tense, feeling that she’s still tense, makes you frown.

You’re not even half way through the movie, but you can’t get into it being as preoccupied as you are. You turn slightly so you can see Billie, and she’s watching the movie with an amused look. She speaks before you can ask what’s on her mind, and you can’t help but smile a little.

“This was really your favorite movie as a kid?”

You smile to yourself at the thought of the first time you’d seen it before nodding in confirmation. You talk about how it was the one movie that never failed to make you feel better. You talk a little bit more about what you liked most before Billie just laughs in amusement. She runs her fingers through your hair with an adoring smile.

“I can see why you like it so much. I’m honored I get to watch it with you.”

You roll your eyes before you look back to the screen. You watch for a couple of minutes, and Billie continues to play with your hair before you remember that you were going to ask her what was bothering her. You turn away from the movie, despite it being at your favorite part, and look at Billie with a frown. Her hand is hovering above you now and she moves it away before shooting you a curious look.

“What is it, Y/N? I see you thinking.”

You sigh slightly before nodding in confirmation. You couldn’t pretend like you weren’t a little worried about what had happened at the interview. In all the time you’ve known Billie she rarely gets upset. You want to make sure she knows she can talk to you about anything that’s bothering her.

“I just wanted to make sure you didn’t want to talk about what happened.”

Billie smiles at you and your willingness to help before she tells you the truth. At least most of it. She decides that hiding something from you might be worth it if saves you some pain.

“It’s alright. He just asked very personal questions that I didn’t want to answer.”

You groan at this before rolling your eyes at the thought. You weren’t looking forward to watching this interview tonight or tomorrow, but you did want to support Billie in whatever way you could. Still, you nod before sitting up and scooting closer to the medium. You turn your attention back to the movie smiling slightly at the scene before you.

You don’t last until the end of the movie, but Billie doesn’t bother waking you. She wants you to get your rest before you go out tonight. Billie turns back to the movie that’s ending with a sigh. She knows that she’s going to regret lying to you, but for now she didn’t want to do or tell you anything that would upset you. Not when you already have so much on your mind.                  

You wake up at the sound of the front door closing, and you roll over with a tired groan. You sit up quickly and look around, only to find that Billie is gone. You don’t get a chance to frown before you see her and Milo walking toward you with a smile. They must have just gotten back from a walk. How long were you asleep? You didn’t get to wonder why you were sleeping so much before Milo was on you. He hadn’t even let Billie take off his leash before he jumped you, and you laugh before catching him. You scratch him all over for a little while before you reach over him to take off his leash. You smile appreciatively as Billie offers to take it from you.

“Thanks Billie, and thanks for walking him.”

Billie just smiles before returning to your side and planting a kiss on your forehead.

“Of course, sweetheart. How did you sleep?”

Apparently, it was almost dinner time and you sat up a little straighter at this. You hadn’t realized how late it was, but you had been looking forward to going out with Billie. You hurry to stand up and head upstairs to get ready, but Billie stops you. She actually catches you as you sway slightly from the sudden movement, and you shoot her another grateful look before shaking your head. You know what she’s going to say next, but you’re feeling better and you’re not going to let Billie talk you into staying in.

“Are you sure you’re up for it? We don’t have to go, Y/N.”

You smile widely before shaking your head again and standing up straight with a sigh. You look briefly to Milo before deciding that he looks good enough to go out.

“No, I’m good to go. Let me just get changed. I’ll be back!”

Billie smiles as she watches you run upstairs, not bothering to stop Milo as he follows you. She supposes she should check on the cats before you three leave. First, she needs a cigarette, so she heads to the kitchen. That movie helped relax her while she watched it, but now she was free to think and worry about tonight again. She sighs as she takes a drag before heading to the backyard. She just needs a few minutes to herself. Then she’ll be ready.

Part 19

Tag list: @madamevirgo @illuminated-blue

[ultimatetrashyfanfic]

I’m just gonna say Non-despair AU cause I want everyone to be happy. I freaking LOVE Gundham so much, he’s wonderful and I’ve been wanting to write him for a while (but stalling cause of his DIALOGUE. It’s so hard). Buuuut I decided to finally give it a shot. And to kind of vent a little cause he used to stress me out in his dark coat and scarf in tropical heat. With Kazuichi because I want them to be friends, and because I seem physically incapable of not putting Kazuichi in every fic. COULD be seen as pre-soudam if you prefer, I didn’t write it like that but it could be if that floats your boat. I do like that ship, I just like other ones with Gundham and kazuichi more. Anyway, hope you enjoy - Circle

Also on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33543364

Warning: descriptions of overheating, sickfic. Nothing really bad here.

Kazuichi wasn’t shocked to wake up sprawled across a towel with sand in his hair and a dry mouth, completely alone on the beach. This wasn’t even the first time it had happened. When his insomnia was really bad he’d always doze throughout the next day - for some reason he couldn’t sleep in his warm, comfortable bed at night but could drop off in seconds with his head on the breakfast table or against Hajime’s shoulder. His classmates never bothered to wake Kazuichi if he was somewhere he wouldn’t be in the way, so the beach was a frequent napping spot. They always made sure to leave him in the shade with a water bottle for when he woke, so Kazuichi didn’t mind. It was normal.

What was very much not normal was waking up to Gundham grasping the front of his t-shirt, shaking him violently and yelling some weird gibberish that Kazuichi was still too woolly-headed to understand.

“Wha..?” he muttered, trying to wake up properly. For a second he wondered if he was having a weird lucid dream, because Gundham never usually touched people, especially him - though he was shaking him by the shirt instead of the shoulders.

“You’re gonna stretch out my clothes,” Kazuichi whined, sitting up and scrubbing his eyes.

“As if your tattered garments are a priority right now! Answer me with honesty, lest the demons tear your tongue from your very mouth. Have you encountered the wrath of my Crimson Steel Elephant?” Gundham cried, far too loudly.

“What?” Kazuichi mumbled. “Gundham, I can’t decipher your witchy language when I’ve just woken up.”

“Foolish mortal! This is a dire emergency!”

“Why? What’s happened?”

“I shall repeat myself just once more, so listen well. Have you encountered one of my Dark Devas of Destruction? Maga-Z appears to be missing,” Gundham said. Despite the grandeur and fancy words, Kazuichi could see he did look pretty distressed, holding the three remaining hamsters in his hand as if he was scared they’d dash away too.

“Oooh, okay. You’ve lost a hamster. That’s all you had to say, Gundham. One single sentence and I would’ve understood,” Kazuichi said.

“Do not talk so disparagingly! My Devas are far more powerful than mere hamsters. And Maga-Z has an independent spirit and often attempts to cause chaos alone. I have my concerns for the safety of everyone on this island if Maga-Z wields his destructive power without my guidance.”

Gundham was completely serious, but Kazuichi had to bite his cheeks to stop himself laughing, picturing a hamster storming across the island in a tank, decimating everything. But Gundham was clearly frantic, and Kazuichi was trying to be nicer to him recently, so he sighed.

“Okay, I’ll help you look for him. We should try to get the others to help too.”

“Indeed. You were the first mortal I came across,” Gundham admitted.

“Right, what does Maga-Z look like?” Kazuichi asked, taking a long drink of water. He felt like he’d be running around in the hot sun for a while now and wanted to drink while he had the chance.

“Your memory is abysmal.” Gundham seemed irritated that Kazuichi didn’t know the hamsters by sight.

“Look, I’m not exactly on nodding terms with your ham- Devas, am I? How am I supposed to know which is which? I only recognise the chubby one.” Kazuichi pointed to Cham-P.

Gundham reeled back like he’d been slapped, spluttering in outrage. “How dare you mock his corporeal form! If Cham-P was not so patient, he would obliterate you where you stand for such cheek.”

“Look, I wasn’t trying to body shame your hamster,” Kazuichi said irritably. “I wasn’t mocking. He’s just bigger than the other ones.”

“He is of the Golden variety, of course he is larger in stature. It has nothing to do with his nutritional intake.”

“Are we going to search or not?” Kazuichi snapped. God, talking to Gundham for more than five minutes was exhausting. “Do you know if Maga-Z has favourite places to go or something?”

Kazuichi let Gundham lead and did his very best not to talk to his strange companion as they searched through bushes and inside cupboards, asking any of his classmates they encountered to look too. Gundham muttered to the remaining hamsters, but didn’t try to talk to Kazuichi much either except to order him around - though his grandiose tone was quickly becoming softer and more anxious.

“Maga-Z has never disappeared from my influence for so long,” he mumbled, pulling his scarf to cover his mouth. “I cannot contain this feeling of dread.”

“Hey, don’t worry,” Kazuichi said, surprising himself. “We’ll find him. He’ll be okay.”

Gundham blinked, then stood up straighter. “I assure you, I fear for the inhabitants of the island. Maga-Z will come to no harm.”

But he was worrying, and even Kazuichi could see it. His searching was becoming frantic, his usually careful hands clumsy, so he knocked things off their shelves and forgot to tidy up or close doors behind them. He started running between buildings and bushes, long coat billowing, calling out for his lost hamster.

“Gundham! Hang on a second,” Kazuichi gasped. “I can’t breathe!”

Surprisingly, Gundham did as he was told, leaning against a palm tree in the shade. He wrapped his arms around his chest, pale fists gripping his dark coat. His carefully styled hair was starting to droop in the heat, and his face was very pink. Kazuichi had never seen so much colour in his cheeks before. The three remaining hamsters cowered inside Gundham’s scarf, sensing his anxiety.

Kazuichi went to lean beside him, wiping the sweat off his own forehead. He didn’t know how Gundham managed in his black clothes every day.

“We’ll find him,” Kazuichi said again. “Ibuki and Twogami and Mahiru said they’d look. And Miss Sonia looked like she was going to cry when I told her Maga-Z was missing. She said she wouldn’t rest until he was found.”

“She has a good heart,” Gundham said softly.

“Yeah…” Kazuichi paused. “Hey, you didn’t say anything nice like that about me. I’m the one who’s been running around with you in the baking sun for hours.”

Gundham didn’t respond. He’d been talking a lot less in the past twenty minutes or so, though he’d originally been giving incomprehensible orders to Kazuichi every two minutes. Souda assumed he was just growing more concerned for Maga-Z the longer he was missing - so he was caught off guard when Gundham slumped over and fell limply against him, almost bringing them both to the floor.

“Dude!” Kazuichi managed to catch hold of Gundham. “What are you doing?”

Perhaps Gundham didn’t know what he was doing either, because he had a look of sheer bafflement on his face. He tried to pull himself upright, clinging to the rough bark of the palm tree, but each time he wobbled dangerously and Kazuichi had to grab onto him again.

“What is this..? I appear to be reacting negatively to your mortal world’s atmosphere.” His usually forceful speech came out laboured and slow, and Gundham placed a hand to his lips in surprise.

“What? You’ve been surviving in this atmosphere for ages already,” Kazuichi argued. “What’s up with you? You sound drunk. Can you tell me in plain English?”

“The temperature in this godforsaken land exceeds even the fiery bowels of hell,” Gundham hissed, having to cling to Kazuichi to stay upright.

Kazuichi took a second to disentangle Gundham’s web of fancy words. “Sooo… you’re too hot. I guess that makes sense. Who wears a black coat and a scarf in this heat? And I know you haven’t had any water since we started searching. I’d better take you back to your cabin,” he sighed.

“Unhand me this instant, you fiend!” Gundham growled, though he was the one using Kazuichi like a walking stick. “I could never rest while one of my Dark Devas of Destruction is unguided.”

“Well they’ll all be unguided if you get heatstroke and drop dead,” Kazuichi said. “Half the island is searching for Maga-Z - and I’ll go back out to keep looking as soon as I can, okay?” As much as Gundham might get on Kazuichi’s nerves sometimes, he didn’t want him to get really sick or hurt. He hoped Maga-Z had enough sense not to wander into the sea or something; Gundham would be crushed.

“Hmm.” Gundham didn’t look convinced.

“Your other three ham- I mean Devas probably need to cool down a bit too,” Kazuichi tried.

Another pause. “Very well,” Gundham sighed. “I shall retire to my artificially cooled domain until the effects of this oppressive atmosphere wear off. I trust you to ensure the search continues.” He turned on his heel and tried to walk on his own, staggering alarmingly.

“Hey, careful!” Kazuichi ran to steady him. “I told you I’d help you.”

Gundham slapped his hands away. “Fool! Have you forgotten I am cursed with poison?”

“Oh for God’s sake! Could you just give an inch for once! Why do you make everything so difficult?” Kazuichi cried exasperatedly.

Gundham stuck his chin in the air and started berating Souda again - but before he’d even finished the first sentence his words died away. He blinked several times, looking dazed, swaying where he stood.

“Gundham..?” Kazuichi said nervously.

Gundham didn’t respond. He took another few staggering steps towards his cabin, then crumpled as his knees gave way under him. Kazuichi cried out and hurried to catch him, their foreheads bashing together painfully. Gundham’s skin was clammy and damp, his face looking much more… alive than usual. Kazuichi realised it was because his pale makeup was running.

“Fucking hell, Gundham,” Kazuichi groaned, hauling one of Gundham’s arms around his shoulders. “Just hold onto me, okay? Try not to pass out.”

Surprisingly, Gundham nodded, staring down at his feet like it was taking a huge effort to make them move. It was clear he was trying to be helpful, but Kazuichi had to carry a lot of his weight and they were both breathless by the time they reached Gundham’s cabin. Kazuichi breathed a sigh of relief as the wall of cool air conditioning washed over them.

“Thank God for that,” he mumbled, dumping Gundham onto the bed. It was carefully made, which Kazuichi had never understood; why bother making your bed when you were just going to mess it up every night? The entire room was neat, though the giant cage meant it rather smelled like hamsters. “Right, get your coat and scarf off.”

Gundham glared at him viciously.

“Oh, that’s the thanks I get, is it? Well, no matter how annoying you might be, you’re overheated. No wonder, wearing that stupid dark coat. So get it off.” Kazuichi grabbed Gundham’s arms and yanked the coat sleeves off like he was undressing a sulky toddler. Gundham hissed a series of furious curses at him - one of which sounded like Latin, which was actually pretty impressive - and the three remaining hamsters hopped out onto the bed, startled.

“There. Was that so hard?” Kazuichi said silkily when Gundham was lying on the bed in his shirt and scarf, glaring. Kazuichi tried to take the scarf off too, but Gundham’s hissed threats became more vehement and he gave up. “Fine, keep it on then. Though I don’t think the gothic look is very sustainable in a tropical climate, man. Right, I’m going to get you something to drink.”

Gundham didn’t respond until Kazuichi had returned with a cup full of water from the bathroom. “I shall take advice from one with such abysmal fashion sense as yourself with a grain of salt, fiend,” he said, with as much dignity as he could muster while tomato-red and damp with sweat on his bed.

Kazuichi had to fight very hard not to pour the glass of water directly over Gundham’s head, but he just about managed to help him drink it instead. Then he grabbed the little fan from the bathroom and placed it by Gundham’s bed, dampened a cloth and slapped it rather unceremoniously on his forehead. Gundham yelped and glared again, water trickling down his temples. Good. Serves him right for that earlier comment. “There. Keep your head back or you’ll smudge your eyeliner. And don’t move. I’ll try to find Mikan while I’m looking for Maga-Z, okay?”

Gundham turned his face away, cupping one hand over the Devas protectively. He mumbled something into the material of his scarf.

“What?” Kazuichi asked.

“I said I am grateful for your assistance…”

“Oh.” Kazuichi was surprised. He’d never heard Gundham acknowledge he needed any help before - though maybe that was Kazuichi’s own fault. He’d been the one to start up the whole stupid rivalry thing (which wasn’t ever a rivalry in the first place since the girl wasn’t remotely interested). Maybe this was a step towards a reconciliation.

“I mean, I wasn’t gonna leave you to die,” Kazuichi added awkwardly.

“You are far more tolerable when you do not echo the Dark Queen like a parrot. I once believed you had no real mind of your own,” Gundham said bluntly.

Kazuichi flushed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You made yourself an extension of the Dark Queen. You never disputed her or challenged her. You agreed with her every word.”

“Well… I wanted her to like me,” Kazuichi mumbled. “Look, you don’t need to lecture me about all this. You know I’ve left Sonia alone.”

“Indeed. But you still wish to befriend her?” Gundham asked. Even weak and overheated as he was, his eyes were burning into Kazuichi’s with such a fierce intensity he had to look away.

“That’s her choice. Why are you asking all this?”

“If you still seek a friendly companionship with the Dark Queen, you should not forget she is a mere powerless mortal,” Gundham said. “She does not wish to be treated like she is extraordinary. She does not wish to be around those who only agree to please her.”

Kazuichi stared at him. Was Gundham really offering advice? Was this a weird way to repay him for helping out? It was pretty embarrassing to be given advice on how to make friends from Gundham, who openly distrusted everyone - but he was friends with Sonia. Maybe even something more, Kazuichi honestly didn’t know. He’d tried to stay away from Sonia as much as possibly, partly because he wanted her to be more comfortable and partly because he was pretty fucking embarrassed by his past behaviour. But he would like to be her friend. Nothing else - he knew that wouldn’t ever happen - but friends was good.

“Now make haste!” Gundham suddenly cried, making Kazuichi jump. “Continue the search! I shall rejoin you as soon as I am able.”

“No, rest. Don’t move and especially don’t put your coat on again. I’ll find Maga-Z,” Kazuichi said quickly. He dashed outside before Gundham could protest, groaning as the sticky heat wrapped around him once more.

He started searching again, after taking a quick detour to Mikan’s cabin to ask if she could go check on Gundham and make sure he hadn’t gone out into the sun again. Almost everyone on the island was searching now, splitting off into little groups to cover more ground. Nagito was one of the last to join in - and Hajime and Kazuichi watched in astonishment as he shifted the very first box he touched in the storage room of the old building and pointed. “There he is.”

“WHY didn’t I ask him first?!” Kazuichi practically screamed.

“Ultimate Luck seems a pretty useful talent,” Hajime murmured to him, not wanting Nagito to hear. It’d only start him off on a long self-deprecating rant. “Go on then, Kazuichi. Get him.”

Kazuichi peered behind the box on his hands and knees. Maga-Z was cowering in the corner, fur dishevelled and standing on end. He didn’t look too friendly. “Why do I have to grab the stupid hamster?” Kazuichi whined. “You grab him, Hajime. I don’t like them. They look like they know too much.”

“What are you on about?” Hajime sighed. “It’s just a hamster. You can’t be scared of a hamster, Kazuichi.”

“They’re Gundham’s hamsters. They probably like… worship the devil or something.”

“Hamsters don’t worship anything. They’re just hamsters.”

“Can I go now?” Nagito asked, looking like he was losing braincells just listening to this conversation.

“Yeah, thanks, Nagito. Unless you fancy grabbing this hamster,” Kazuichi said. He looked hopeful, but Nagito left without another word.

“I’ll do it,” Hajime said, exasperated. He reached behind the box to ease his hand underneath Maga-Z, but as soon as his fingers brushed fur, the hamster made a mad dash forward. Directly towards Souda. He squealed and hastily cupped both hands around Maga-Z, holding him at arm’s length. “Oh my God, oh my God, I got him… Oh God, he’s gonna bite me, I know he is,” Kazuichi whined.

“Hey, good job,” Hajime said, surprised. “I didn’t think you’d catch him.”

“I’m not a baby, Hajime,” Kazuichi huffed. Then he whimpered in a very childish way. “Ugh, he’s wriggling around. Can I… put him somewhere? A bag or something? I don’t trust him.”

“Just shove him in your pocket and let’s go. It’s boiling in here. And Gundham will be stressing about Maga-Z. Do you know where he is?”

“I had to put him to bed because he nearly fainted. He was running around in his black coat all day.”

Hajime rolled his eyes. “Nobody on this island has any self-preservation skills.”

“At least Maga-Z is okay.” Kazuichi studied the little ball of fluff cupped in his hands. Somehow his little ink drop eyes did look menacing. “Hey, he really does look like he wanted to go off and cause chaos on his own, doesn’t he?”

Hajime gave Kazuichi a look. “I think you’ve spent too much time with Gundham today.”

Thankfully, Gundham was still in his room and looking a lot better, though still very visibly agitated. His colour had returned to ghostly pale (he must’ve reapplied his makeup) and his eyes were far more focused - they snapped to the door right away when Hajime opened it. When he saw Kazuichi, his hands still full of wriggling hamster, his brow cleared.

“Take him, quick!” Kazuichi said, hurrying over to the bed. “I’m sure he wants to bite me.”

“You fiend,” Gundham murmured, taking the hamster. For a second Kazuichi was offended, thinking Gundham was calling him names when he and Hajime had been nice enough to bring the hamster back, but then he realised Gundham was talking to Maga-Z. He spoke to them in exactly the same way he spoke to his classmates, no silly mushy voices like most people did with cute animals.

“I can only pray you have not caused too much destruction while unsupervised,” he murmured, smoothing Maga-Z’s fur. The hamster sat up to greet him like a little puppy, and Kazuichi noticed for the first time that Maga-Z’s cheeks were bulging.

“Did he really run off just to steal food?” Kazuichi groaned. “We’ve been so stressed and he was just eating!”

“Ah yes, a feast befitting the magnificent Crimson Steel Elephant,” Gundham said, gently placing Maga-Z with the other hamsters. They circled him joyfully, happy to be reunited too.

Kazuichi threw his hands up exasperatedly. “I give up. You’re all nuts.”

Gundham turned to Kazuichi, his face solemn. “I am deeply indebted to you, as is everybody who resides on this island. I cannot speak of the terrors that may have occurred if Maga-Z was without guidance. I shall spread the story of your triumph to every other mortal here so they can show you due gratitude,” he said.

“Oh… Thanks, man.” Kazuichi could see he meant well, but the thought of Gundham telling everyone Kazuichi saved the island from a hamster’s destruction was pretty embarrassing. He could already see Hajime smirking out of the corner of his eye.

“You should stay inside a bit longer though,” Hajime said. “Just in case. You need to make sure you’re totally cooled down.”

“Indeed. I have had ample excitement for one day,” Gundham said.

“Me too,” Kazuichi mumbled.

“If you’re feeling better, you can tell everyone about Kazuichi saving the island over dinner,” Hajime said, grinning. Kazuichi glared at him.

“Asshole,” he muttered as soon as they were outside Gundham’s cabin.

Hajime burst out laughing. “Maybe he’ll make you sound really gallant and fearless when he tells it.”

“Then everyone will know it’s a lie right away. And anyway, Nagito saw what happened. Even if you don’t give away the real story, he’ll definitely tell.”

“Probably. But you did save his hamster, even if you weren’t that fearless about it. Is there a truce between you two now?”

“I suppose so. He’s not so bad. Crazy and dramatic and difficult… but okay,” Kazuichi admitted. He paused. “I don’t know what half of the words he uses mean though.”

“Yeah,” Hajime agreed. “I don’t either.”