#chapters will prolly slow down after this

[sl0t4matt]

hard launch with hector fort 🙏🏻🙏🏻

h. fort | hard launch

love love this trope. thank u, anon!! also added a few more posts than just the hard launch hope u don’t mind :)

youruser kinda in my wag era rn

liked by hctorforrt_ and 679.055 others

random OMG WHAT

random she’s fine af how did he pull her lmao

╰┈➤ random they are both very attractive bro

random did somebody say hard launch?!

yourbestfriend hottest wag

╰┈➤ youruser luv u

random who’s she and why is she with hector

╰┈➤ random prolly his gf

hctorforrt_ i still don’t know what that means

╰┈➤ youruser r u slow i told you like 10 times

lamineyamal thank god i can’t keep secrets

╰┈➤ youruser 🙄🙄

╰┈➤ random lmao lamine knew

random can someone watch my grwm? 🥺

╰┈➤ random no 🥺

marcguiu9 someone took my bitch

╰┈➤ youruser bohoo 🥺

╰┈➤ hctorforrt_ marc 😫🫃

╰┈➤ youruser homosexuals

╰┈➤ random theyre dating atp

╰┈➤ random LMAO i love her 😭

random noo hector 😓

random wha- shocked.

lamineyamal gonna be a long ass era

liked by creator

hctorforrt_ still not sure how i pulled this 

liked by marcguiu9 and 308,940 others

youruser ur cute

random hottest couple

random i think we missed a chapter or two

random crying rn she’s pretty tho

fcbarcelona champ on and off the pitch 🤙

liked by creator

random lol this came out of nowhere

random she’s beautiful

liked by creator

random WTH HE HAS A GIRLFRIEND

╰┈➤ random yes and she mogs u

random they compliment each other so well

╰┈➤ random fr both hot af

marcguiu9 i accept i guess

╰┈➤ youruser thank you for your blessing🙏🏼

_ferminlopez my kids

╰┈➤ random daddy

╰┈➤ _ferminlopez come again?

╰┈➤ random oh

random she only wants him for money

╰┈➤ youruser omg you caught me 😰

╰┈➤ hctorforrt_ lmao

╰┈➤ random she’s a model i’m sure she has her own money

433 goat good luck!

liked by creator

random HARD LAUNCH ⁉️

hctorforrt_ added to their story

hctorforrt_ she said she would look “so sexy” pregnant

╰┈➤ youruser bitch why would u post that (i would totally rock being preggo)

hctorforrt_ wym you always look good (only with my children tho)

youruser you flirt 🤭 also i’m totally not letting you get away with this

hctorforrt_ yeah sure

hctorforrt_ i was zipping up her dress lol

liked by youruser and 208.086 others

youruser stop talking big you literally couldn’t do it for shit

╰┈➤ hctorforrt_ i did it in the end tho

╰┈➤ youruser yeah when we were already late

random the last one 😍 she’s so cute

lamineyamal papi when r u posting yourself 🥵

liked by creator

╰┈➤ paucubarsi i miss his face too 😔

╰┈➤ marcguiu9 me three

╰┈➤ youruser ew

╰┈➤ random they are so funny 😭

youruser i’m gonna get revenge for the story wait up

╰┈➤ hctorforrt_ shivers down my spine 😱

╰┈➤ youruser okay bitch it just got worse

paucubarsi i think she has something on her nose

╰┈➤ hctorforrt_ omg really bro 😱

╰┈➤ youruser leave him alone 🙄

random it’s always the models

╰┈➤ random literally stop calling yourself a fan when you say shit like that

╰┈➤ random just let him be happy omg?!

youruser i’m kind of liking this wag lifestyle

liked by marcguiu9 and 469.976 others

marcguiu9 JAJAJAJAJA

liked by creator

random omg haha hector looks so cute in that picture

lamineyamal slaying fr

╰┈➤ youruser ate fr

paucubarsi the pic of hector is killing me

╰┈➤youruser u and everyone else

hctorforrt_ you’re evil

╰┈➤ youruser it’s your own fault 🥱

hctorforrt_ just because i’m in love w u doesn’t mean u can do shit like that!!!

╰┈➤ youruser aw you’re in love with me 🤭

lamineyamal nah deserved after that story

╰┈➤ youruser i know right!

╰┈➤ paucubarsi fr did you dirty with that

╰┈➤ hctorforrt_ you’re supposed to be MY friends?!

╰┈➤ youruser hah! they love me more

fcbarcelona hector always been a culer 💙❤️

liked by creator

random why is no one talking about how good she looks?!

liked by creator

[imaginespazzi]

Nivi! How are you, bestie? I'm just here for a quick drop-by again, just to check in and say hi.

Life hasn't slowed down much the past few weeks so I still haven't had time to do a long review but please know that every GH chapter is like a shot of serotonin straight into my veins.

You had so many good lines in Chapter 10 that gave me a good chuckle btw, i loved it.

Also, I'm never ever getting tired of Paige-Azzi-Stephie scenes. Like ugh, this lil family makes my day always. Brooo, Stephie's possessiveness! She a little master manipulator huh cause this:

“Mama,” Stephie says loudly, cutting Paige off as she turns to Azzi, “do you know if Aunty Chérie is in town?”

“I was just thinking,” Stephie barrels on casually, “maybe we could go see her and she could give me cuddles and kisses since app-ently Miss Buecks is too busy to give them to me-”

^This was absolutely DIABOLICAL from that little girl hahahah. She knows EXACTLY what to say to get what she wants from her Miss Buecks. Like mother, like daughter truly.

And our Drew cameo, it's finally here! Oh boy, the confrontation is really gonna be something, i already know. Yeah for sure I think Drew's gonna have slight feelings of jealousy or yearning in a way that Stephie gets to experience what he missed out on, but more than anything I think he is gonna be super protective of her and not wanting her to ever go through what he went through when Paige and Azzi broke up.

I do wonder what Azzi's reaction will be if and when they finally get around to talking about the "plan" in place of Angie potentially taking over P's role and the team maybe no longer needing P after this one season. I know P says it's nothing they can't work through , but well we all know how much of an overthinker Azzi is and so she's prolly already gonna jump straight ahead to scenarios of well what's that gonna look like if P has to move to the OTHER SIDE OF THE COUNTRY and how that's gonna affect Stephie. Ugh, the angst is about to ANGST, i feel it.

Anyhoo, i guess this is kinda a medium-sized review? As a small token of my appreciation haha.

As always, thanks for taking the time to feed our souls with your talent! Can't wait for the next (whenever that may be)!

P.S: I think I'm rooting for a Liberty-Sun finals series. I do love the Lynx and I know how much you love Phee so I wouldn't mind if it was the Lynx (and I think it will prolly be them anyway over the Sun) but I do have such a soft spot for CT and I looooove Nai, so I am rooting for them over Minny, sorry babes. I'm rooting for NY though so at least there's that!

Oh and I watched Geno's media availability today, and he didn't seem all too impressed after the first practice session lol but it is the first one and there's a lot of new pieces so like he said, it'll just take time. But it better take less time than it did last season cause idk if I can suffer through another painful non-conference stretch. ALSO grandpa seemed annoyed at having to be cautious with Azzi LMAO, like if it was up to him, she's back on that court playing as much as possible ASAP. Imma need him to chill on that though. Like no one wants to see princess back on court more than me (well, maybe apart from Azzi herself and blondie) BUT her knees better be 200% before she's back on there!

I said "quick drop-by" and look what we got instead - typical hahah.

OK imma stop now. Love ya, bestie. Take care of yourself always! 💗

-🙋‍♀️

BESTIE I MISSED YOU I'M SO HAPPY TO SEE YOU <3

Babes I get you don't even worry about it. Life is gonna do life things and whenever you have the time to do one again (hopefully I write again lol) I will be seated to read it!

But I'm glad you've been enjoying GH.

Honestly I love writing Stephie so much. She's just an evil genius and she's so smart and perfect and funny which off course she is, she's literally mini-Pazzi.

Ugh babes you always just get my writing because that's exactly how Drew feels towards Stephie. There's definitely some wistfulness there seeing her get that "family" that was in way stolen from him but he's already enamored by this little girl and he would never want her to face what he has.

Azzi's reaction is going to depend on when she finds out and how she finds out tee hee :) I've given y'all so much fluff, it's only fair I give the angst fiends some angst soon.

Well I hate to break it to you babes, but no Liberty-Sun finals for and you and I fear it's looking quite grim for the Liberty in general right now. But at least we'll always have MVPhee too root for!

Oh god I didn't have time to react to Geno's availability but I fear grandpa did not real squelch any of my fears about this team. My biggest side-eye was actually his lack of complementariness about Jana and I'm a little fearful for my frontcourt where apparently Ice (??) is looking like the best player?

He's definitely dying to have Azzi back out there but if that girl plays more than 15 minutes in at least her first 5 games, we will be having words! I have Farleigh-Dickinson circled on my calender for the earliest possible game we can see her and that would give her a couple of easy game before the team would really need her so he better not play her more than 15 if she does play then.

[onthewaytosomewhere]

Therapy for literally anyone in 911

thanks ever so much for letting me use this to untangle (at least somewhat) these silly buddie boys

this can also be found on ao3 - and it will prolly make more sense after the first chapter

It’s been two months since Buck stopped fighting, two months since Eddie showed up at the location of the underground fighting ring and dragged him to the hospital. Of course, it’s been a long two months, the kind of months that feel like you lived multiple years within each one. It’s not all been bad. Eddie and Buck finally admitted their feelings for each other and are slowly starting dating—which really isn’t much different than how they were before, just with more times out just the two of them.

This has been one of the good things—Eddie is sitting in the waiting room while Buck is in their therapist's office. Their therapist—that’s still wild to think they share this and so much more now. The way this has been going is Buck gets 40 minutes if he needs it. They get 20-30 minutes for the two of them together, and Eddie gets some time afterward. He’s working through a few things he didn’t bother with when he briefly did this therapy thing after his own time in the fighting ring. Buck has put his foot down and said if he’s working through all of his stuff, then so will Eddie. They’re getting mentally healthier for each other—and Christopher.

Christopher has taken to Buck and Eddie actually being together remarkably well. Of course, he’s never shied away from his love for Buck. So, other than a few more times when they go out without him, it’s not like things have changed a lot for him yet. At some point in the future, it may, though. Eddie doesn’t think he’ll ever want anyone other than Buck. He knows they need to take things slow, not necessarily glacial, but slow to protect themselves and everyone else. Neither of them necessarily has the best track record when it comes to dating. So for now, they hang out and go on dates with the added bonus of kissing and …

Eddie’s thoughts are interrupted when the door to the office opens, and the therapist motions him in. He walks in and notices that Buck looks a bit nervous. He doesn’t know what that might mean, but he just has to hope it’s not bad. He sits down next to Buck in his usual spot for therapy and smiles at him. He gets a smile back, and it relieves a little of the anxiety that was ramping up. Buck’s smiles have always had an insane effect on him, even before he realized why that might be.

Their therapist sits across from them and starts. “Eddie, Buck has something he wants to tell you to start this week's joint session. I will go over to my desk to give you a moment, but I’m here if you need me.”

Eddie’s confused. Why would they not stay in the usual spot for their sessions? Isn’t that the point of all this? He turns to Buck, who still looks slightly nervous but less than when Eddie came in. Buck smiles at him, and he feels the anxiety that is starting to ratchet up again recede. How it took him so long to realize what he actually feels for Buck still amazes him.

“Eddie, I need to let you know that I remember a few things from when I was in and out of consciousness at the hospital after surgery.”

“Okay …”

“I remember you saying you love me.”

Oh. “Oh.” That’s a development Eddie doesn’t know what to do with.

“I want to tell you, and not because of that; I know we haven’t said that yet—at least not outside our heads and both conscious, but—I love you.”

“Oh, Buck …” Eddie’s brain has yet to catch up with his mouth, so he’s unsure what to say next. He wants to kiss him and let him know that way that he also loves him, but he probably actually needs to say the words. “Buck, I love you, I’ve loved you for so long, and honestly, I think I first realized it when I was stuck in that damn well. When I didn’t know if I was getting out of there, you and Christopher were the people who kept me fighting. I had wanted to tell you then, but I got nervous, and then stuff happened so fast, and before I knew it, so much time had already passed. I missed my opportunity, or so I thought, so I kept my feelings to myself, sat on them, and they continued growing.” He stops to take a breath, and Buck lets out a giggle that Eddie doesn’t get to hear often but treasures every time he does.

“Eddie, I … you know this wasn’t a contest. You didn’t hafta take my love confession and blow it out of the water. But since you did, I’m not going to bother with a grand love confession. I will repeat, however, that I love you. Have for so much longer than I knew.”

Eddie leans across the loveseat, and his lips find Buck’s; they kiss slowly, just lips, then tongue, then Eddie nipping at Buck’s lip with teeth. Eddie sighs into the kiss; he knows they can’t stay like this no matter how much he wants to, so he pulls back. Eddie pulls back and laughs when Buck’s lips chase his before leaning in and whispering, “Later. We’ll come back to this later.”

Buck leans toward him, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, “I intend to hold you to that.” Eddie looks forward to it.

Their therapist is joining them again, saying, “That went well. Based on what I turned back around to, I'm assuming there isn’t anything you need to discuss, but if there is, we can do that now.”

Eddie looks at Buck and shakes his head. There is nothing more he needs to say about this at the moment, at least not with just their therapist. All he wants to do is repeatedly tell Buck that he loves him—he wants to shout it from the rooftops and tell the world. Buck smiles as if he’s heard all of Eddie’s internal dialogue and turns toward their therapist, replying, “No. We’re all good right now.”

“Perfect. So, shall we pick up where we left off last week?” The rest of the appointment goes by so fast. Their joint session ends and Buck leaves the room for a bit. Eddie feels so much lighter for one of the first times since he started therapy. He feels complete. He’s ready to tackle whatever comes, with Buck at his and Christopher’s sides.

[imeunseoksbby]

CHAPTER 1

E u n s e o k x r e a d e r

Genre:Smut

1 Year Ago

Kelly and Nelly got divorced 3years ago,so 1 year ago which is last year,Kamo went with Kelly to England while Y/N&Jaden went with Nelly to South Korea.Nelly bought a house for him and his family(+new family)in Itaewon.He got married to BoA and they met her children Jungkook and Somi,Y/N also got a boyfriend and his name is Eunseok.This year between November or late October,Eunseok began distancing himself from Y/N,normally he visits her at 8pm but now he comes 30 minutes later .This time y/n was home alone since her dad,brother and stepbrother went to Jeju Island while Somi was on vacation with Chaeyoung and Jihyo,it was 21:05pm

Y/N AND SEUNGHAN TEXT

Me:Can u come over?It's so lonely in my mansion

Hannie😏:What abt hyung?is he there

Me:No one's here except me :((

Me:can I come over?

Hannie😏:Yhh sure😉the members r out

Me:Later bby <33

Hannie😏:💋

Y/N got up and ran to her room to find something to wear,she wore a small dress which also revealed her cleavage,she put on light makeup and perfume on.She got out of the house and drove to Riize's apartment and entered Seunghan 's room

"Damn" he bites his lips and looked at her from bottom to top

Y/N:You like?

Seunghan:Heck yeah I do

Y/N:Everyone will be out for 2 weeks

Seunghan:Guess I'll visit all the time

Y/N chuckled,Seunghan kissed her lips and the two continued making out

♡Timeskip: 01:00am♡

Y/N got in the house and took of her heels and blouse,she got to the kitchen and lit the lights to find Eunseok holding a knife

Y/N:Oh baby...you're here

Eunseok:It's 1am,where have you been

Y/N:I was at Yuki's house...

Eunseok:Yuki is at Japan right now,I know you've been seeing Seunghan

Y/N was too embarrassed to speak but she also got mad

Y/N:Yeah I have!So what you gon' do about it?

Y/N:You gon' kill me?nigga i'm tired of you comin' home late and always missing my calls

Y/N:It's like you the one cheating!What are you even hiding from me!?

Y/N:I KNOW YOUR JOB BUT NIGGA WHO IS YOU ALWAYS KILLING EVERYDAY?!CAN'T YOU LEAVE THEM A BIT AND SPEND SOME TIME WITH ME?!

Eunseok was silent and Y/N got scared because Eunseok kept playing with the knife,he held the knife tightly and got closer to Y/N.He gave her a smirk then he scoffed

Eunseok:My job's dangerous,I go there because of your father

Y/N:What's my father gotta do with this?

FLASHBACK ON A CALL

Nelly:You my daughter's man right? Eunseok:Yuh Nelly:Aight so I know you'se in a gang right? Eunseok:Yuh Nelly:Some of these niggas is trynna kill her,I want you and your gang to protect her Eunseok:How many are they? Nelly:They alot,but don't stress cause most of 'em prolly don't know how to fight Eunseok:Sure Nelly:Yeah I'll pay you R50k if you do so Eunseok:Rands? Nelly:I meant ₩50k Eunseok:Okay

Y/N:Oh...

Eunseok:I could've killed you!

Y/N:Please don't!

Eunseok:I won't

Y/N:Then what will you do?

Eunseok stared at the knife and Y/N thought of slaughter

Y/N:Wait please don't-

Eunseok shushed y/n and made her sit down,he leaned in and gave her a kiss and she gave into the kiss. He broke the kiss and sucked her neck then she moaned,it gave him a bulge .So Eunseok smashed his lips on hers and he nibbled a bit on her lips,he placed his arms around y/n's waist and y/n placed her legs around his waist

He carried her to the bedroom and laid her on the bed,he divided y/n's legs and took of her panty.He started licking her pussy

"Mmm it's so sweet" he said while holding on to her thighs,he was licking so good that Y/N moaned loud,then he inserted his fingers and he was going on a fast pace

Y/N:Ahh eunseok~I'm gonna cum

Eunseok:Wait baby

Y/N:I c-can't ~

Eunseok eventually let her cum and he licked it,after that he unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants,he pulled down his boxers and his pp was big.He put his cock inside of y/n and he was going fast,she put her arms around his neck and she loved it yet it was painful

Y/N:Baby,slow down~

Y/N moaned in Eunseok's ear and it made him go even faster,she gripped on his hair and she was sweating,she continued to moan in his ear and he loved it .He placed her on the bed and they undressed each other,now it was y/n's turn

Y/N was on top of him and he was slowly riding him,Eunseok moaned and grabbed on her thighs

Eunseok:Gosh y/n~ keep it going

Y/N smiled and rode him faster and faster,she then got under the blankets and started sucking his cock,he began moaning y/n's name and the smirked. He wanted to cum but y/n didn't let him

Eunseok:I need to cum~

"Just wait" she said while sucking his cock,he couldn't hold it and y/n immediately stopped sucking. But the cum splashed on y/n's face,but it was sweet. The two were already tired

Y/N:That was fun to be honest

Eunseok:Yeah (smirking)

Then Eunseok had just realized something

Eunseok:Wait hold up

[blorbologist]

Two for joy - Chapter 26

[Posting early because I will be heading to bed early + likely not online much tomorrow]

It takes some doing to track down Scanlan: he and Kaylie, sometimes just he alone, have been bouncing from city to city, continent to continent, with any whim. Easy access to Teleports or Transport via Plants will offer that sort of freedom. 

She finally finds them - and Grog - in Marquet, Grog hauling an absolutely gorgeous dining room set through the doors as Vex pads up. 

“Bidet!” Grog says. 

“Grand Poobah.” Vex grins back, miming tipping a feathered hat. To her dismay, Grog furrows his brows, more somber, before adjusting his grip on the table and chairs and heaving on. 

Still hurt about Percy’s refusal to join the rescue mission in Pandemonium, it seems. Not that she can blame him, but getting Percy and Grog in the same city is difficult. 

Struck by an idea, Vex cups her mouth to holler after him. “Grog!”

He pauses. “Scan - sorry, the Meat Man’s prolly just down the hall in his office.”

“I know.” Vex takes long strides to catch up to him - Grog, watching her with confusion, slows to allow this. “I wanted to talk to you first, though.”

“Oh? ‘Bout what?”

“There’s a very important job I want you to do, for the wedding,” she says gravely. 

That gets his interest. “Really?”

“Really.” She makes the decision on the spot: “Would you do the flowers and leaves?” 

“Do the what?”

“Before I walk to the altar.” Vex mimes gently tossing petals, sacred leaves from the Sun Tree. “Like this. It takes a very, very strong arm. And it would be a great honor for the Grand Poobah to do it.”

Grog considers this seriously, scratching his chin with the foot of a chair. Delighted, but a little reserved. “It would be good for someone of my station to be there,” he agrees slowly. Vex watches him swallow, expression knitting itself over and over as he figures out what he’s looking to say.

[One for sorrow] [Ch1] [Keep reading on AO3] 

[bylightofdawn]

Chapter 5 is officially complete! I could totally end the fic here and I really think it would prolly stand on it's own but I'm going to write that epilogue. Have a sneak peek at the tail end of chapter 5 because I'm grinning like a loon while writing these two idiots.

Eventually, the blond began to feel the edge of tiredness creeping up on him and with some reluctance, he stepped back and reached out to capture Reeve’s hand in his. “Come on, I’m taking you home and you’re going to get a proper night’s rest in your own bed.” He delighted in the flush that started at the tips of Reeve’s ears and crept downwards and didn’t even bother to mask his amusement. “Uh-isn’t that a little...” “I meant actual sleep. I don’t think either one of us are in any shape for bedroom antics.” A slow, self-satisfied smirk crept across Rufus’s face. “Besides, the first time I have you, I don’t want to worry about you passing out midway through the act.” That had Reeve sputtering in only half-serious outrage. “Says the person overcoming a long-lasting, wasting illness?” “I guess we’re both falling apart at the seams.” The blond conceded with a sly look and pulled Reeve towards the doorway. “I guess we’ll just have to fall apart together.” “Sap.” Rufus accused fondly as they stepped out into the hallway. Reno and Rude both zeroed in on their hands, still tangled together. “Looks like we won’t need Rude to pick Tuesti here up and carrying him out kicking and screaming after all.” Utterly unperturbed, by the speculative looks on his Turk’s face, he swanned down the hallway with a weakly protesting Reeve firmly in tow.

[fulcrumstardust]

u prolly know who this is bc i don’t shut up about it so i’m rly sorry if this is annoying but i really love slow down my motion and i was wondering if u were planning on continuing it

I have to confess I'm not sure who you are anon so this should tell you you're not annoying about this. Yes I'm planning on continuing! As a fact I'm planning on continuing all my fics, none are abandoned, but I don't have a date. I haven't been able to write anything since last december and I'm the first to be sad about it, but mentally I'm not in a place where I have the bandwidth to be creative.

I did try to work on chapter 2 of the sheltering sky for those that are interested, but like I said, painful process. I don't really know how to get back on that horse (eh eh) or when or what I'll be doing. But I really miss the anxious waiting for comments after I post a new chapter.

Anyway, if you're still around when I finally drop an update on something, thank you very much I appreciate that <3 Take care!

(づ ᴗ _ᴗ)づ♡

[someguyinc]

Ooooh what are your story ideas and meta in the works?

ahh !! i have a good handful,, most of them are merlin related so forgive me spn mutuals ;-; but i'm just going to list them off bc i fear if i give an in depth response this post would be one of those long ones that make your app glitch and phone burn to a crisp in your hands

bbc merlin:

meta:

- gwaine being more observant than he's given credit for pulling a classic "oh i just drink and make jokes" silly guy move as a cover

- arthur, merlin, and mordred and their roles in the prophecy/ties to the old religion and triple goddess

- destiny in bbc merlin being a living breathing entity that lives through feeding off of tragedy

- gwen and her flower motif !!

- morgana and merlin being two sides of the same coin

- the different sects of the old religion and those that believe in the once and future king vs those who don't

- magic and its relation to gender throughout the entire series and how it is often a punishment for the women in the series

- gwen and lancelot being foils for each other

- gwen and elyan's sibling relationship (this one is mostly head canons based off the scraps we get throughout the series)

- more in-depth exploration of the main 4's character thesis

- difference between merlin and emrys and where the line blurs

- druids and their expectations of merlin

fic ideas:

- key trials: merlin and arthur have to enter the kingdom of the sidhe and stop the ever growing plague that has begun destroying all the crops and causing an abundance of monsters in albion,, this one investigates the double standard merlin holds for arthur vs himself, the lies they've told themselves and arthur internal bias from being raised anti-magic, as well as merlin being a liar

(i've stated writing a few chapters but lost motivation n school n work once again took over my life)

- dragon's ire: heavy political intrigue, prince merlin au, focuses heavily on the reality of merlin and morgana's ill-fated friendship and how merlin telling morgana about his magic could've definitely made things worse in the long run, kingdoms at war and gives more background to the knights as well as blacksmith!gwen who i hold close to my heart

- fae circle fic: really just guilty pleasure of seeing genderbent morgana and gwen if i'm being honest,, silly fun :3

- elwaine fic idea: moments where traveling blacksmith elyan meets gwaine multiple times but working with him as a knight gets a bit more difficult from there prolly just smth short n fun :)

//

spn:

meta:

- sam and dean and hoodoo/voodoo in spn and how many times they should've died after using it... i do not know how to stress that not only are these practices closed off to non-black folk but then also like,, even black people that do not have practitioners in their bloodlines do not fuck with these practices because the repercussions are just that !! bad !! 😭😭 (ofc ik the 'god favor' and more realistically this is bc there were probably no black writers in the room but DAMN,, it's just insane)

- probably low hanging fruit but,, song genres relating to each member of tfw and their arc in the story

- i'm sure someone has done this before too but bela/dean parallels and similarities

fic idea:

- jock!castiel... that's all i got 😭😭 i've only recently gotten into spn and castiel is very close to my heart,, but i keep seeing fics where he is a gardner/knitter and while i think he'd be interested i think he'd also drop them very quickly bc he strikes me as a person(?) that likes the idea of taking things slow but when it comes down to it much rather would prefer things get done immediately or at least he can move his body and feel like something is getting accomplished,, he's also incredibly charismatic and i would love to see him leading a team in something without feeling like it could become a cult

it's kind of just a guilty pleasure lol not too much backing

anyways thanks for the ask hope any of this is interesting 😭🫡

[hirameca]

23/8/21

notes under cut

Currently making a bigger bonus comic (Like the Birthday one) and it's taking longer than i thought it would... haha... this time's a ricky central one tho

speaking of bonus comic, i really wanna make another viv/jules comic around the time not too long after viv stopped attending school. theres actually quite a lot i wanna tell around that time period just havent been able to find a right chance to stuff them in

anyhow for the longer extra (and another short one after) im gonna slow down the pace on posting the main stuff for a week

ive been noticing that my linearts has become more detailed in general compare to a few chapters ago... which is smth i think i should avoid oof. Cuz i don't draw fast. I'm not sure what happened I should prolly try to morph back to how i do things b4

honestly it might be the armors. drawing armors have me end up detail my lines more than usual

but i LOVE drawing Armors!

i wanna learn godot (I gotta. I wanna participate in game jams~~~~)

[kazimakuwabara]

A Name (Part 9)

Previous chapter HERE

By the time Kuwabara was walking about, he was pretty sure he’d come to understand at least a little bit of the old Kuwabara and Yusuke’s relationship. They were rivals, and then friends; as thick as thieves and then brothers. And once Yusuke and Kuwabara were talking more, Kurama was around more, followed by Hiei.

It was as if Yusuke and Kuwabara clicked back together, had helped ease some of the tension between them all.

There was a nervous energy in the group, and few things that Kuwabara was sure he was doing wrong... or at least not how they expected him to behave.

There was some unknown tension behind Kuwabara’s former, and renewed friends when he did certain things. Kuwabara’s aversion to the cats seemed to shock people in silence. The mentioning of getting rid of his arm and his disinterest in resuming training seemed to also stir a pot of negative emotions, and would often make Hiei disappear again.

“Is that little one always so grumpy?” Kuwabara asked Kurama and Yusuke.

Their response was to look at each other and howl with laughter.

“What?” Kuwabara demanded.  He sagged against a post of the shrine, and waved his unhindered arm in the air, “The little guy buzzes off anytime something offends him I think! And I’ve no idea what offends him!”

“Who does!” Yusuke admitted with a snort, “He’s short tempered.”

“Pot calling the kettle,” Kurama muttered, and he and Kuwabara laughed.

Kuwabara had only been told stories, but Kuwabara could imagine it. Yusuke with his smart ass attitude, and his punkish air.

“Hiei is what I would call a Tsundere,” Kurama said with an air of great knowing.

Yusuke choked, and bent over so he could laugh, while Kuwabara could only squint at Kurama.

“A what?”

Kuwabara’s question made Yusuke fall to the ground, where he flopped on his back gasping, “No! No! I’ll die!”

Kurama grinning mischievously shrugged, “Let’s just say he acts like a temperamental cat. When you give him attention he leaves, but if you don’t give him attention he comes running back. He is a handful of a friend, but a good one to have.”

Kuwabara chuckled, and watched Kurama and Yusuke laughed. When they seemed to be settle down, Kuwabara cleared his throat, “By the way. The Path, and the Áine Sovereign Blade... where are they now?”

Kurama and Yusuke’s expressions soured a little, and they both sighed.

“You don’t need to worry about it,” Yusuke said a little snappishly.

“The mirror and sword are both returned to their rightful owners,” Kurama said, his smile also tight.

“So locked up with Koenma then?” Kuwabara asked.

“The Path is,” Yusuke sighed, “But the sword is returned to who we borrowed it from. Some...” Yusuke waved a hand around, “Some Irish baby Prince or what not in Ireland.”

“A Fae Prince,” Kurama said, “The one day ruler of a hidden part is Ireland. They are the owners of the sword. We borrowed it from them, and so we’ve returned it.”

“What’s a Fae?” Kuwabara asked.

“A fairy or somethin’ like it,” Yusuke answered, and then with a grin, “Like in a kid’s story.”

“To the human world a Fae is a magical creature,” Kurama spoke over Yusuke, shooting him a sardonic look, “But to demons, they are just a different type of demon, more in tuned to nature. With trickery, illusion... and games. They know how to have fun I assure you.”

“So, a fae is like a demon?” Kuwabara checked.

“Is a demon... just a different type,” Kurama said smiling. “I myself am a Fae. It’s just my class of demon, much like Yusuke is a Mazoku.”

“And Hiei is a Koorime?” Kuwabara asked.

Judging by Kurama going pale, and Yusuke’s mortification he’d misspoken.

“No, no... they are not that. He’s not. It’s different,” Kurama hurried to explain.

“So he’s not the same as Yukina?” Kuwabara further asked.

“Kuwabara,” Yusuke was on his feet, and he reached out to touch Kuwabara’s good arm, “Hiei and Yukina’s situation... it’s not our place to tell you. But the Koorime... they’re a bunch of fuckin’ douche bags. Monster assholes-”

“Who, Hiei would really not like to be associated with,” Kurama interrupted loudly. With kind eyes he muttered, “The Koorime hurt Hiei and Yukina in different but painful ways. But-”

“It’s not your business to share with me,” Kuwabara sighed grimly, “I’ll be careful not to say it again in front of him.” Kuwabara pursed his lips and the carefully asked, “...And asking would be bad right?”

“Right!” Kurama and Yusuke bother exploded.

Kuwabara chuckled, awkwardly cleared his throat, “So about the sword-”

“Why do you ask about it? You don’t ever have to worry about it again,” Kurama said firmly, Yusuke nodding his head in firm agreement.

Kuwabara titled his head, “...I’m not sure why I’m asking about it.  I just think I need a little more information it.”

“Really you don’t need to worry about it,” Kurama said, “Everything is returned and things will be as they should be.”

“Yeah. It’s not something you have to think about it, ever again.” Yusuke said firm and bitter, “Fucking sword and a stupid mirror. Causing all this...”

The air grew tense.

Yusuke looked away from Kuwabara, and Kuwabara felt even more awkward.

“Let’s just focus on getting you back up to snuff Kuwabara,” Yusuke said with a grin that was not an honest smile, “You promised six months ago you had a new technique that would knock me flat on my back at the Makai tournament--set three months from now. And I’d like to see you get better, and get this all resolved. I’d like you to keep that promise.”

Kuwabara smiled too, and it was as dishonest as Yusuke’s if not worse.

But he dropped the conversation of the sword, not really sure how to broach the subject with his old, but also new, friends... They were still missing the original Kazuma Kuwabara.

The person the current Kuwabara, wondered if he was. Ever could be.

Kuwabara kept these thought to himself, all the way until bed time. Other thoughts followed in natural order. How much did the others miss Kazuma Kuwabara? Would they always hope Kuwabara would get his memories back? Would be be able to? Did... he... want to? Want to be what they expected?

The cat Eikitchi, chirped in his lap.

Kuwabara blinked startled.

He hadn’t realized she’d gotten in his lip, and that his was running a hand down her warm body as if it was something he’d always known to do.

He stroked her again, and she chirped again, and then purred. Her arms reached for Kuwabara’s wrist, and she tugged his forearm to her. She ran a rough tongue over his thumb, and then purred very loudly.

“Oh... do you like me?”

She blinked slowly up at him.

“Even if I’m not him? You’re orgional owner? Even if I’m not...” Kuwabara sighed, “Even if I’m not the real Kuwabara?”

She purred so loud, Kuwabara’s arm was getting a gentle massage from her reverberating body.

“It means she liked you, and you’re still Kuwabara, you absolute moron!” Hiei’s harsh voice said over Kuwabara’s shoulder.

Kuwabara squawked in startled fright, and jerked around to see Hiei standing behind Kuwabara at his bedside, looking at Kuwabara impatiently.

Eikitchi made a sound like an annoyed hiss, and flicked a tail at Hiei. Stretched. And then hopped from the bed and Kuwabara’s back, and trotted from the room.

“H...Hiei?”

“It’s my understanding... you want to know more about the Áine Sovereign Blade,” Hiei said casually, not bothering to exaplin how or why he was in Kuwabara’s room. Or how he knew about the information Kuwabara had been trying to pry from his other two reluctant friend.

“You... you’ll tell me about it?” Kuwabara asked a little hopefully.

“I’ll take you to the blasted thing if you need,” Hiei answered shortly, and with an evil grin, “I’ll even steal it for you if you like.”

Kuwabara grinned wide.

Yes.

Hiei was a good friend.

[havin-fun-imagining-twd]

What were your nightmares about?

When - right after It was a pragmatic cigarette, so we’re in season 2 at the Greene’s farm while Carl recovers, the family mourns Otis’ death, and the search for Sophia continues.

Genre - you get some backstory to that little reveal in the aforementioned chapter. The subject matter (death of a parent and self-defense) may be upsetting.

Relationships - familial via you and your big brother, slow burn will-be-romantic-one-day via Daryl x You, and platonic via you and your friend Glenn.

Pronouns - none used, but female is strongly implied by some of the subject matter.

TWs - some language, aftermath and discussion of death of a parent, aftermath and discussion of killing in defense, brief allusion to that fact that situations like break-ins may lead to sexual assault (on women in the house). Also, Daryl is noshing on a can of tuna for breakfast so read with caution

Word count - shorter than the last chapter, slowpokes. If you’re new, you can become slowpoke today by heading to the Masterlist!

References - I’ll link the pertinent stories in the morning, kiddos

All the muscles in your body had felt stiff and weighed down, but you pushed through it, unwrapped yourself from your brother’s arms, stood up, and began to step toward the door.

Your speech was slurred and slow. “Let’s dig the graves. I’ll do his.”

“We ain’t burying that piece of shit next to her.”

The words came out of your mouth, but you felt like it wasn’t you speaking. “I killed him, I’m buryin’ him, Shane.”

“Y/N. Y/N, we should oughta piss on his corpse and drag it out to the main road for them to rip apart.”

Trembling, you leaned against the wall and stood there in silence. “I-I don’t want that,” you finally stammered.

Your brother had started to cry again, and had his face buried in his lap while he tugged at his hair. “It’s fine, it’s fine, it’s okay,” he kept repeating in a whisper. “It’s okay, it’ll be okay, we’ll be fine.”

You stayed where you were, uncertain of what you were feeling and uncertain if you had the energy to move. If you had to put a word to it, it was as if you’d short-circuited.

“She’d never forgotten to lock it all the way before,” you heard yourself say. “She, she’d always locked it and made sure it made the snappin’ noise after we left, especially after what happened down the way.”

“Cockroaches always find a way in,” he growled to himself. Then he’d wiped his eyes and stood back up. “This is prolly the same guy who did our neighbors in last week. Y/N, are you alright?”

“I don’t know.”

“What you did you saved my life. Your own too and who knows who else’s, if this is the same guy. ”

“I know.”

“I’m so sorry you had to—” he cut off and looked over at you, expression hard but somehow soft at the same time. “It was in defense, you know that. You were saving somebody else and savin’ yourself, and this ashole either ki—” Again, he’d cut off, unable to say it at first.

Slowly, he managed to get it out. “He killed the dog, and either killed our mother, or would’ve, if, if it was that she hadn’t already died, I don’t know.” He was trying to work it out. It simply didn’t make sense. “It must be that she was sick already, that’s...that’s the only thing that makes sense as to why she turned!”

He pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut. Opened them, looked at you. “You were not in the wrong, Y/N. Do you understand? You didn’t do nothing wrong, you saved our lives.”

You stared into space and breathed slowly through your nose. Not that you could avoid thinking about it, but you tried to avoid talking about what you yourself had just had to do. “Thank you for bein’ the one to put her down.”

Putting down family members who’d turned was the fucking worst. You were grateful that he’d been the one to put the bullet in your mother’s head. After you’d put a bullet in that man’s.

Your stomach knotted. “Mama didn’t even seem sick yet. We was, w-we was barely gone three and a half hours. So if you get killed when you’re sick, you still turn?” You leaned your head against the wall and stared up at the ceiling. “When did she even catch it? And how? Unless she...”

You were starting to realize it. Your pulse sped up, your tears welled.

“She m-must’ve...I don’t, um...” He was starting to realize it, too. What that may have meant for the two of you.

“If she somehow caught it, we probably have it, Shane.” You covered your mouth and stared into space. “We prolly gave it to her in the first place.”

His voice sounded hoarse and low. “We don’t got symptoms.”

“We may not have contracted it. We been—we’ve been very lucky so far. Or we j-just ain’t feeling it yet, I don’t know enough about virology.”

If it was even a virus. Virus was assumed but one knew, not even the CDC officially, according to the last news reports. The major stations were gone, but there was one local station still up and running five-ish days ago, so you’d last heard.

The grid was down in most places, anyway. The emergency broadcast station was what was keeping most people from being in the dark, if they had crank or battery-powered radios.

“She had to have...maybe she—screw it, maybe she got it from when she went out with her broken ankle and all a couple days back. Probably helpin’ out the Jacksons down the road, or maybe she gave more food or some shit to another—” He spit out the last words with so much anger. “To another drifter, and they got her sick!”

“I didn’t think it was spreading no more. That’s been over and done with for what, two weeks?” Those who caught it had already died and turned. “Unless it...might it could’ve mutated already?”

“I thought it weren’t spreading no more, too, so I don’t know, Y/N, I just don’t know.” He took a slow breath in. “So, it takes,” he paused again to run his fingers through his hair and close his eyes. “It takes up to 48 hours after exposure to show symptoms, and if you’re sick, you kick it within another forty-eight.”

“So we wait the forty-eight, see if we start to go downhill.” You nodded, still not fully understanding that you may be dead within two days, and you strained to get yourself off the wall and start moving again. Your throat grew tight as you said, “In the meanwhile, we need to bury them, clean up the mess.”

“The Grimes,” he whispered suddenly.

A flicker of desperation pushed through. Carl.

The Grimes were all you had left of life before, now that your mother was gone, too.

It started when the state had come and taken away your fosters that hadn’t caught sick at school and died. Your middle sister and her family had caught the sickness and turned, too. Your eldest sister and her partner had offed themselves, probably because they’d caught it, too, if their turned bodies reaching from their nooses as Shane had struggled to describe were any indication.

And now your mother and the dog were dead right along with them.

And you’d just killed somebody.

But if you and Shane were sick, you both would die, too. Lori and your Carl would be alone. And Rick—oh God, Rick, you’d realized—please no, no, no, no, if you and Shane were sick and died, what would happen to him? He was still in a coma. Lori couldn’t risk herself getting him out of the hospital, not when she was all that Carl had left!

No.

No!

You and Shane couldn’t be sick. Nobody had survived the fever yet!

At least, that’s what news stations and stories from other survivors had said so far. There’s always hope, but...

“I’ll go, um, I’ll go later, tell ’em through their back window,” he muttered. “Maybe they can try—no, they shouldn’t go to Atlanta on their own, not if we can avoid it. And we can’t risk infectin’ Rick, we—” He cut off and swore. “We need to wait until we know.”

“We’ll both go tell Lori and Carl,” you hushed. You wanted to see your first (and last) nephew one more time, just in case it really was the last time. “And it’s only two days, Shaney. What another two days?”

Your brain felt numb.

Earlier that day, you and Shane had gone and scoped out the hospital first, and on the way back scrounged around for last-minute supplies before you were all heading to the Atlanta safe zone.

Mama hadn’t wanted to go, said places with martial law were just as dangerous.

Your throat tightened again as you thought about your mother. To what happened when you and Shane had come home, saw the garage door busted.

Thoughts then drifted back to the last things that were said before you two left. Wait...

“Shane?”

He looked at you, still kneeling on the ground, hands on his hips, eyes bloodshot and teary.

“She was sayin’ how she hadn’t stepped outside in over 24 hours.”

His brows furrowed as he stood up and began to pace, eyes glued to the floor. “She said that before we left, when we was—” With a shake of his head, he did that thing where he smiled because he was angry at himself. “God damn us, the last thing we did was argue with her three hours before she fuckin’ died.”

That’s when you’d very suddenly and finally begun to cry.

Yeah. You and Shane had a stupid argument with her before leaving. The dispute had come from a good place, but try explaining that then, after you two came home to find the boarded up, secured-so-you-thought-house broken into, the dog dead, and your mother turned.

Your brother kissed your head and squeezed your arms a moment before resuming his pacing. “Then we just gotta wait the one day. There weren’t no other place she coulda caught it from, since she hadn’t left.” Then he crouched down and tugged at his hair again. “Okay. 24 hours. And if we start to get sick...”

You wiped your nose with one sleeve, wiped your eyes with the other. Buried your face in your hands. “Okay.” One day to see if you were goners.

“Y/N, if it’s only one of us,” He swallowed and grimaced. “No, even if it’s both, we’ll...w-we’ll do what Ma wanted, okay?”

Your mother waited. Helped manage the fever and symptoms, but waited until the person died naturally. If reanimation occurred, that’s when she acted, or would desire you to act if she was the sick one. Not before then.

She had hope that someone could survive it, develop immunity or somehow already have immunity.

“We’ll do what Mama wanted. Okay.”

Twenty-four hours.

For some reason, the main thought in your mind at that moment was how you wanted to look around to find the cat. He was probably hiding under your bed.

But instead, Shane ended up holding you tightly for several minutes until you stopped shaking. Kissed your head again. Then he pulled back and wiped his eyes. “Let’s get the shovels, Y/N.”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

You ease out of your memory. Blink up at the skies and stare at the moon as some gray clouds make their way over it. And after you whisper I’m sorry as you tuck that memory away, you remind yourself that the action you’d needed to take was in defense of another and of yourself.

Part of it, yes, was in anger and maybe even revenge, but without you doing what you did, you and Shane wouldn’t be here. Lori and Carl may not be here. Who knows who else wouldn’t?

All this aside, too much thinking before bed is so stupid! And here you are mucking around in a very bad memory. That’s what you get for trying a cigarette, you suppose. And of all people, Daryl Dixon had to remind you that nicotine is a stimulant.

That scotch Dale mentioned he had would’ve been smarter. More ‘pragmatic.’

Idiot.

Whatever, it’s time to head back. Early day tomorrow.

Carefully, you undo your sling and make your way down the rocks, coughing from the stupid cigarette. You really do need your inhaler. Ugh, thank God the day is over.

It’s just that you don’t expect to find Daryl finishing up a cigarette against a tree maybe ten yards away.

“Hi?”

“Hey.”

“Glad I didn’t pee like I planned to,” you comment, mainly joking. “Why aren’t you back with the group? You didn’t have to wait for me.”

“Was havin’ me another smoke,” he grunts, standing up. “It took a while.”

“That’s twenty-five cents, bud.”

He just added the new rule that white lies cost a quarter, and he just told a white lie.

“I did have a smoke, though.”

“Hmph. Sneaky. Just mind yourself now, ’cause I will wrangle a quarter out of you.”

“You can try.”

The rest of the walk back is silent, and he keeps his comfortable distance as always.

When you’re back at the tents, you notice Shane poke his head out of your green camo tent, one earbud in.

You head into the RV to use the toilet, wash up, use your puffer to open your lungs, and grab one of the bottles of painkillers plus medical wrap for Shane’s ankle and the icy hot rub for your shoulder.

Once back in the tent, you’re close to crashing.

Shane waves off your attempt to massage his lower calf to help alleviate some of his ankle pain, and instead gives you a very firm shoulder rub.

You sigh when you at last stop feeling that dull ache in the front and back of your shoulder thanks to his work. “You win best big brother in the camp.”

“Do I get a prize in the mornin’?”

“You get to poo in an RV and drink powdered decaf, most like.”

A half-hearted chuckle escapes him, and he lets you know, “Rick and I are fixing to do some gun safety and shooting practice tomorrow before we set up the sweep, after I take Carol to check the highway again.” Under his breath, he mutters, “Poor woman. That shit ain’t fair.”

Wasn’t fair in the slightest. “Just let me wrap your ankle good before I head off, we’re leavin’ early.”

“The pharmacy run?”

“The creek. Daryl and me.”

He pauses. Bends his head. “It’ll do Carol good, at any rate. Keep a walkie on you, don’t be ashamed to put your safety first. Run if you gotta.”

You offer him a small smile as you scooch over to your sleeping bag and lay down, thoroughly tired and not caring about changing your clothes just yet. Might as well sleep in what you have on.

“And Y/N? I’m sorry that I brought him up earlier.”

“I forgive you. I know why you did.”

“You ain’t a bad person, please get that. You’re one of the good ones.”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The soil by your home was rocky and full of roots, which always made keeping the garden difficult. Yet somehow all three graves were dug in what seemed to have taken no time at all.

The dog was buried with his favorite toy. Mama was buried next to him.

Shane and you wished you could have buried her in the cemetery next to Dad, but that wasn’t feasible. Instead, you two changed her into her favorite dress and boots, complete with her sun hat before laying her to rest.

Then Shane had gone out front and down the long gravel driveway until he was off the property, by the road. He’d dug the man’s grave for you out there while you kept watch for the any sick ones or drifters.

He’d gotten it into his head that it was on him that you had to take a life, citing how that man had gotten the jump on him, so it was on him to dig the grave and not you.

You two would need to take the trip to Rick and Lori’s soon, after the man was in the ground.

But maybe you’d both clean up the mess in the house first.

Besides, you still hadn’t found the cat.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Next thing, you are waking up to soft noises outside the tent. One was what sounded like the RV door and the creaking when somebody went down the steps. The rest of the noises are...yeah, that sounds like Glenn. He okay?

You could use a break from the uneasy, disjointed dreams anyway, plus you’re thirsty, so you grab your water bottle, music player, and unzip the tent flap.

He’s seated by the fire with his head in his hands. You sit beside him.

“What were your nightmares about?” you quietly ask.

“The bloated geek with the gills.”

“Want me to check for bites or scratches again?”

His head shakes. “I already did like 4 times. Had just about everybody check for me, too.”

“Dale’s got scotch hidin’ somewhere,” you hint, (mostly) joking.

No reply comes, you and he simply stare into the fire and listen to the crickets.

“Why did you get up and out of bed? You didn’t have to, I’m cool.”

“The coolest, I know.”

He manages a small chuckle and thanks you for getting up to check on him.

“You’re my friend, buttface. You’d do the same,” you remind him.

“Well, yeah. But if you want to go back to sleep, I’m cool to head back in. You’re leaving first thing, aren’t you?”

“I’m good.”

Glenn glances over. Elbows you. Softly, he asks “What were your nightmares about?”

“The guy who, um...” He knew the basic gist of the story already, so you didn’t have to explain much at all. “Remember when we played I never?”

Your friend thinks for a moment, and has a look of recognition. He bows his head. Then, he nudges you by way of offering comfort. “You did what you had to, dude. Plus, I’m not actually cool to head back to sleep yet, no way.”

As you finally return his nudge, he picks up a stick and pokes it in the fire. “I just can’t forget how Amy actually enjoyed the grape-flavored ones from those juice barrels we played it with.”

“Ain’t it wild we give that sugar water to children?” You grab a stick, too.

A minor, short-lived stick war ensues, lightsaber sound effects performed very quietly so as not to awaken anybody.

In short order, you both are back to absently poking your sticks into the embers. Glenn stares and sighs. “You thinking what I’m thinking, Y/N?”

“Marshmallows.”

“Oh my God, yeah,” he snorted, appearing much less on-edge than when you’d first joined him.

You two end up listening to music to relax. Ramble On is one of his favorites, so that was replayed twice before you both begin to nod off.

“Dude, can I borrow this?” he mumbles about the mp3.

“Knock yourself up, I’m back asleep already.”

Why is he giggling? “Knock myself up.”

Ohhh, got it. “I’ma go sleep, buttface,” you groan, a smile on as you stumble back to your tent.

Ow, you bump your stitches on the way down to your sleeping bag. At least your shoulder feels better compared to it, right?

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

You knew that face. Or at least, you thought you may have.

“He looks kinda like Mr. McLennon.” Fuck. “He ain’t one of the sons, is he?”

Shane was resting against his shovel and staring at the the man’s corpse. He peered at the face, but his expression revealed nothing. He seemed to frown, shaking his head slightly.

“Couldn’t say,” your brother responded quietly. “Might could be, but I ain’t sure.”

“‘Randy.’”

“What?”

“Mama had been talking to Mrs. M on speakerphone a couple months ago. I think I overheard about one of her boys movin’ back to the area, heard what sounded like ‘Randy.’ Is one of them named Randall?”

Shane had coughed in disbelief. Stared long and hard at the body as his eyes grew moist and his jaw tightened. “I only knew the middle brother, but we weren’t too close, um...” He then shook his head and fluffed his hair. “Who he was don’t matter. And Walt and Melly McLennon were good people, too damned upright for one of theirs to, to shoot Ma’s dog, shoot her, then almost kill me.”

Then he rapidly looked back and forth from you to the man’s body. He fluffed at his hair, squeezed his eyes shut, then hissed, “And three guesses what this piece of trash would’ve done to you if—”

And just like that, he’d snapped and almost bashed the man’s skull with his shovel. You’d stopped him.

You hadn’t wanted to stop him. In that loud, angry, raging part of your mind, you’d thought that ‘Randy,’ if it even was him, ‘deserved’ it. Yet, you still found yourself stopping your brother.

“Shaney. Shaney, Mama wouldn’t have wanted that, she was too good.”

Your brother, panting, furious, heartbroken, everything-at-once, finished digging and ended up throwing his shovel as he let out a sob.

You started to drag the body. Shane helped you carry him the rest of the way.

And you don’t recall when, but you two ended up back at the house, laying down on the ground in the backyard by your mother’s grave and staring at the clouds. You’d never felt so fortunate to have a fence and live away from town as you did then. The soft cooing of the chickens (the ones which hadn’t been stolen the other week) combined with the light sound of the breeze. It was calming.

“Thank you,” Shane murmured.

Your bottom lip had immediately wobbled. With effort, you managed an ill-thought joke, “I guess it’s cool y-you ain’t dead.”

“You saved my life,” he’d whispered to you yet again. And he spoke very, very gently when you started to break down. “Honey, shh. I know it feels awful.” He hadn’t called you ‘honey’ since you’d hit puberty. “I’m sorry it came to that, for what you had to do.”

“Just tell me how long until the worst of it stops?” Knees bent up, your throat grew tight and tears began to stream down your cheeks. “I think I’m gonna be sick, I-I keep replaying the look on his face and, and the s-sound of his voice. Fuck, it’s only been an hour and I’m drownin’ here!”

“It’ll get easier. It’s the first few days you need to get through, take it one hour at a time. I’m...” he trailed off. “I still think about the guy I killed. But I did what needed doing. Others are alive because of that hard, difficult choice I made.”

He then slowly drilled in: “And right now, you and I are alive and you ain’t been raped—no, you know what men like that do, Y/N. If he didn’t kill you outright after he did me in, that’s statistically what would’ve gone down. He probably would’ve done the same to our mother,” his breath caught and he held down another sob, “Had she not gotten a bullet in him first, too. But it didn’t end that way, because of the hard, difficult choice you just had to make.”

“But that’s the—it-it didn’t feel like a choice, and when it was over, it—fuck—it felt easy!” Your breathing got faster and you curled onto your side. It wasn't long before you were crawling to the flower bed and heaving up lunch.

Your brother rubbed your back while you got sick and didn't stop even after you were done and angrily cried out, "Why was killing someone easy? Why didn't I feel nothing?"

“Honey, that was the adrenaline. That’s all that was. Hey, no, shh, you ain’t a bad person, it was adrenaline, it’s just a necessary response to that kind of thing. Think of it like a switch that flips. Shh, breathe, slow your breaths. When it comes down to it, it ain’t that killing is easy. Killing ain’t easy. Never can be. But savin’ somebody’s life can, and that was the difference.”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

A particularly loud bird wakes you up.

Shit, man. You haven’t had dreams like this since the day after the quarry camp got overrun. Good Moses, your pulse is going haywire and your ears are ringing.

You sit up and rest your elbows on your knees for a few minutes as you let your head hang down while your heartbeat and breathing goes back to normal.

A croaking sound comes out of your brother. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

He sits up with you, eyes squinting as he tries to shake off the sleep. “What were your nightmares about?”

“Randy.”

His arm goes around you. “Y/N, We don’t know if it really was him,” he whispers. “What we do know is that your actions weren’t bad. Repeat that as often as you gotta.”

“What I gotta do is pee and hopefully go number two before it’s time to head out.”

“Well, the sun’s gonna start risin’ soon, anyway. Let’s you and me carpe this diem.”

Before you two do anything, you both dry-swallow a dose of painkillers. And yes, it was a horrible idea, they taste vile!

Next up, Shane, started on his morning exercises and you decide that, on second thought, you might as well wear the egg-covered clothes one final time. You were heading out with Daryl, and he out of everybody here won’t mind you wearing 36-hour dirty clothes.

Plus, you’ll have bug spray and icy hot and deodorant on.

Still drowsy, you walk (stumble) your way to the fancy new Hyundai to grab food. Ooh, there’s a slim packet of honey-roasted peanuts, sounds good.

If you found Sophia, she would—sorry, When you find Sophia, she will— need food, too, so you take a few more things to pack in your bookbag. You also pack up your bloodied messenger bag with you to scrub in the creek.

“Be smart out there, weirdo,” your brother tells as he gives you a lazy, half-asleep wave while heating up powdered decaf (hey, you called it) in a tin mug by the fire. “Don’t die, don’t get bit. Love you.”

After quietly heading inside the Greene’s home, you kiss Carl on the forehead and let Lori and Rick know that you were going “Hunting with Daryl.” That was enough that they understood it was part of the search, and finally, you go back outside and make for Daryl’s tent. He set his space up away from the others.

You gather your thoughts on the walk over to Daryl’s tent, tossing up a prayer and then whispering out loud another uncertain I’m sorry.

And when you get close enough, your foggy thoughts clear away as you see that he’s eating directly out of a can. With his fingers.

Is that tuna fish?

“G’morning, Daryl.”

“Hey. Um, mornin’.”

You are only teasing a little as you spritz bug spray on his calves when you comment, “Nothing like breakfast tuna, friend. Ready to head out?”

“Yeah, lemme just—” and he tips his head back to scrape the remaining morsels into his mouth. He then tosses the can into his tent and licks his fingers (why you wished he’d lick them again, you’ll ignore. Well, you ignore it until you’re replaying in your head Daryl licking his fingers off. What can you say, his hands are nice and strong).

“Okay, all set.” He shoulders his crossbow, ties his knife on. Gestures with his head toward the tree line. “Let’s get our girl back.”

[rat-cigars]

Damn Bitch You live like this?

masterlist

(a/n: we hittin the big shit now guys. I think I'm gonna add a semi- love triangle and maybe some smut in this chapter. We just feelin mad sexy this chapter. Ps. i wrote this super drunk. Love yall. Also be advised of TWs and 18+ this chapter since it's getting steamy in hereee   ) 

(TW: incel creepshot, yall prolly gonna be gettin a lil freaky, blood, religious themes, )

**Edward POV)

*Reader POV)

Wc: 1241

Possible Spoilers in this chapter 

Afab!Reader (she/her) pronouns

Chapter 9: Notifications

**He couldn’t believe what he was hearing as he walked down the long walkway. No way you had just confirmed your attraction towards him. He was silent and slow, taking as long as he could to reach the opening of the hall and lead out into the lobby. He had texted you this morning super early, just apologizing again and asking to get a chance to talk to you.

Worried he had ruined his fair chance with you, he had been stressing about your non-existent reply earlier when he headed down to go get some lunch. Ron and Wanda had noticed him first cutting their laughter short and turning everyone in the room a shade of pink. He stood with his mouth agape, shocked you still wanted to see him. Even more shocked you had admitted your attraction towards his physical appearance.

He tried to speak but only a mix of stutters and choked sounds managed their way out of his throat. You spoke once again, clearly flustered, you'd been caught red handed. “U-Uh.. Hey..” you chuckled shyly looking away at the ground. “Didn’t expect to see you around..” you mumbled.

“I was just heading to get some, Um lunch..” he managed. “C-Cool.. I'm sorry if- '' you began to stutter out nervously attaching your arm. But that’s when he cut you off with a hand gently reaching to hold your shoulder, much different than the night before. 

You shuttered a little at the sudden contact between your bodies. The grin that formed on his lips was very subtle but it was crystal clear to you. “It's fine, I don't mind.” He said shyly not meeting your gaze. You had a soft look on your face, watching him as you suddenly leaned in, and Edward did the same. 

*Feeling the chapped lips meet against yours you closed your eyes, nearly melting in his arms right there. Luckily, the lobby was empty luckily, with few guests staying at the hotel. 

The feeling that had burned in the pit of your stomach began to rise, wrapping your arm around his neck gently. You could taste the salt that rimmed his upper lip, mixed with hints of cheap aftershave.

He leaned in just as you did, gently grazing down your body to hold your waist. Finally after what seemed like an eternity you pulled away, staring into his deep green eyes. 

There was a flicker of passion in them.

A feeling of warmth wrapped your body but the moment was cut short by him dropping you from his arms.

 Letting you freefall as your butt hit the ground, a little confused by his reactions. He stared blankly in your general direction with a glazed look before realizing what he did. “Shit.”

He said in a high pitch squeak, quickly helping you back up to your feet. You held his arms, grateful for his help.

 “Ed-Edward..” you said his name tenderly, avoiding eye contact again. “I-I..” you struggled but eventually composed yourself. “I really like you but.. I know nothing about you. I mean shit, you're staying here under a fake name. Plus your check out is at the end of the month and-” He listened intently before looking down away from your gaze now.

 “I understand.. Girls like you would never go out with me..” He sighed tears prodding his eyelids. You felt broke seeing him on the edge of crying and then gently grabbed his hand. “Edward.. I'm not saying no. I'm saying I need to really know you. I need to be able to trust you fully.” You whispered kindly for only him to hear. 

“Does that mean..?” He raised a brow before you smiled and he finally looked at you again. “I'm giving you a chance.. But I don't want a repeat of last night. Like seriously..” you sighed. “But i wanna give us a try.” You were so genuine with a light behind your eyes as you spoke to him. He nodded and you lifted your hand to fix his crooked glasses. “Can we start tonight..?” he said it so quiet you almost missed it. You giggled at his words and nodded. “Of course.. After I get off we can go out for drinks and a movie if you want.” He smiled at your reply and with that you said your farewells. 

While walking away Ron and Wanda came out grinning so wide you were worried they would tear their cheeks. 

“I don't even wanna hear it guys.” You teased them and wandered to go clean some of the empty rooms, just trying to keep busy until tonight.  

Around 6:30 pm after what seemed like hours of cleaning, wandering around, and relentless boredom, you finally went to your bag in the backroom finally deciding to check the mystery texts. You flicked your phone open and wandered towards your jacket, opening the small chat icon on the bottom of the screen. 

7 missed calls

2 unread text messages

Flicking open the call log you saw what seemed to be Edward's number. It had “Parker Patrick” listed as the caller ID which made you roll your eyes. “He even lies to AT&T..” you sighed and then flicked to his message, reading the 2 paragraph apology he sent and then the one text after. The text under the large bubble was asking if you were okay, sent earlier this morning. 

You smirked and decided to text him for a fresh conversation, seeing as you'd already forgiven him. 

Hey Ed, it's me, y/n.

I'm heading home to change and then we can meet back at the hotel? :)

He replied so fast your screen was still open when he sent it. 

sounds gr8

Text me when ur heading this way <3

Be safe :) 

You walked out after replying to his message with a thumbs up, and headed home changing into a casual crop and jeans. The makeup on your face was still minimal, not out of pride or anything. 

But to put it plainly, you were lazy and liked to sleep in. You sat on the brown couch in your living room seeing there was still a half hour before you needed to head down. Grabbing the phone again you saw the chat bubble icon with a notification still on it.

 Even though you had already replied to edward, both times you texted. But as you opened the app your heart skipped a beat, watching the caller ID pull up.

“No fucking way..”

Bruce Wayne: Hi. Checking in on you.

It was clear as day that it was him, the message stayed open as you struggled to find a reply. Did you even need one? He was just being nice anyway. You closed the phone, grabbing your jacket to head out early. 

[dracothedeatheatingcupcake-ao3]

The Problem with Perfection Chapter 10 spoilers!

Hey all! So, a couple people asked for this, so I figured I’d post it. It’s chapter 8 of the companion to TPWP, The Problem with Mondo, which corresponds with chapter 10 of TPWP. Yes, this confuses me a lot too, the fact that the chapters don’t align. -.-

Anyway! Don’t read this if you’ve not read TPWP chapter 10, since it will definitely spoil that chapter, ha. Warning for an overabundance of foul language and some sexualized thinking, as well as an absent thought of suicide, same as in TPWP. This chapter is super long, about 20,000 words, and I’m posting all of it because... why not, am I right? Ha.

I did cut a few sentences from this chapter because they might spoil things for later chapters of TPWP, but they don’t really contain anything major.

The chapter is below the cut! Hope y’all like. :-)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mondo is angry. Blindingly angry. So angry he doesn’t know why he’s angry, but honestly, what else is new? He just knows that he’s angry and the reason he is angry is that goddamn motherfucking kid and his goddamn motherfucking glasses-

 “They! Are!! Glasses!!! Just!!! Wear them!!!” the boy grits out, thrusting his goddamn hand out towards Mondo, looking like he is about five fucking seconds from bashing his head against the goddamn wall. Mondo almost wishes he fucking would, to save him the fucking trouble! Unable to help himself, he scowls and crosses his arms, shaking his head firmly, so fucking pissed it ain’t even funny. 

 “No! I ain’t no fuckin’ nerd!” Mondo yells back, glaring like he was born to do it. Unfortunately, it seems so was Ishimaru, as the kid is glaring like his life depends on it, as fiery and beautiful passionate as ever. That goddamn motherfucking... 

 “Just! Wear them! The doctor says you need them! You don’t have to wear them all the time! Just when you’re reading! Stop! Being an idiot!”

 “Me?! I ain’t no fuckin’ idiot, you’re a fuckin’ idiot! If ya think I’m gonna wear that shit, yer outta yer goddamn mind! Now get that shit outta my face, ya fuckwad, or I’m gonna bash yer head in!” 

 “Like heck you will! You’re all bark and no bite, Owada! Now just! Wear! The! Glasses! You said you were okay with them when you bought them! I will force you to wear them, don’t think I won’t!” 

 “Oh, you motherfuckin’-!”

 “U-uh, g-guys?”

 Mondo and Ishimaru turn, as one, to glare at the intruder on their private fucking conversation. Okay, so maybe they’re in the middle of the hallway outside their dorm rooms, but fuck! That don’t mean shit! Eavesdropping is a nasty fucking habit and if this goddamn motherfucker doesn’t butt the fuck out right the fuck now- 

 “Shut up!” the pair shouts in unison, before turning to glare at each other again. 

 Mondo doesn’t know why he’s so angry. He doesn’t know why he’s doing this, or why he has been doing this for the past week and a half. From hot, to cold, to hot, to cold, again and again and again, never fucking ceasing. One minute he’s fine, relaxed as shit and not at all angry, maybe even feeling kinda good, and then the next...

 And he doesn’t know why. Why he’s doing this. Why he’s fucking ruining this shit, like he fucking ruins every fucking thing. He... h-he just... 

 Things had been okay, you know? Between him and Ishimaru. At first. Sure, they weren’t really friends, evidenced by how they are still referring to one another by last name, but they’d been friendly enough. Mondo had taken care to keep his anger in check, and— to his surprise— it... it hadn’t actually been that hard. It seems that Ishimaru can be pretty fucking cool when they’re not at odds. 

 He’s also a great fucking tutor. He somehow manages to not sound sanctimonious and pretentious when explaining shit, instead looking so fucking earnest and like he genuinely wants to just... help. 

 Because of that, they’d gotten along pretty well those first few days. Ishimaru had been determined to get him brought up to speed before they started the fucking novel, so he’d taken care to spend a couple hours a day hanging around Mondo, at various times. The pair usually spent an hour or so in the library after class ended, but more than that, they just... they would walk together between classes, Ishimaru rambling on and on about what they’d just learned about in class. Mondo doesn’t know why he’d allowed it, usually not caring about shit like that, but somehow... somehow, it had been nice. Hearing Ishimaru talk about the shit they’d learned, the kid better able to impart knowledge in the ten fucking minutes they had between classes than the teachers were able to in the hour plus they had. It’s not at all the sorta shit Mondo would have expected himself to enjoy, let alone look forward to, but shit. There they were. 

 But then... Mondo got stupid. He overstepped his bounds and got fucking scared, fuck. 

 They’d been in Ishimaru’s room. Mondo doesn’t know why he’d made the offer to go to the kid’s room rather than the library, like they usually did, like was safe, but he... he had. And the kid had fucking accepted, and so there they were, sitting on the hall monitor’s fucking couch, sitting too fucking close. The kid was reading the short story Teach had assigned to the class, the pair realizing it was just... easier, while Mondo waited for the nurse to contact the eye doctor for him, since it turned out that yeah, his eyes were kinda fucked up, shit. 

 He had felt so fucking weird inside, the first time the kid had read to him, since they’d been in the library and he’d been nervous someone would see them and think Mondo was an idiot who needed to be fucking read to, but... shit. This time it had just been... different. Without the fear of being judged (since Ishimaru never fucking judged him, not ever, god fucking damn), he... he’d been able to listen to the kid reading without any fucking reservations. And he’d had to admit that- that he... he liked it. A lot. Like... fucking a lot. 

 So fucking much that it had made him feel relaxed for the first time... shit. Prolly ever. Ishimaru just had a nice sounding voice, ya know? It was strangely deep, at times, when he got lost in the story, his words not too fast but not too slow. He actually emoted when he spoke, too, the sound not a dull and dry monotone like so many fucking other people he’s heard read before. It just... made him feel so fucking calm inside, like the monster inside of him had been fucking purring. 

 And... and then...

 Mondo had let his head drop down onto Ishimaru’s shoulder, eyes closing in contentment, the kid faltering for one split second, breath hitched, before he’d smoothly continued, like it had never happened. And with his eyes closed and his head resting on a warm, comfortable shoulder, hearing that wonderful cadence from that wonderful, beautiful mouth... he hadn’t been able to stop the thought. And the thought he had was... 

 God, his voice is so fucking nice, isn’t it...? Wonder what it would sound like screaming your name as you pound the fuck outta him. He’d prolly be loud as shit, so fucking passionate, clawing you to all hell, but damn if you’d mind. Shit... wouldn’t that be fucking nice...

 He had been, to put it mildly, freaked the fuck out. 

 His eyes had shot open the second the thought had crossed his mind, heart fucking pounding as he wondered where the goddamn fuck that shit came from. Ishimaru had been startled, looking at him with his wide fucking eyes, lips opened softly in shock, voice faltering for the first time and Mondo... Mondo couldn’t fucking handle it, holy fucking shit. 

 He’d immediately stood and stammered out some bullshit about needing to check on his hog, before fucking bailing, eyes wide and heart an absolute mess. He had, indeed, gone out to his hog and rode around for a bit, not wanting to think, but he’d been unable to help it. To stop it. And it... it made him feel...

 He’s not gay. Okay? He’s fucking not. There’d be no fucking problem if he were, but he just ain’t. He likes chicks, something he knows better than anything else, something he’s known since he was a fucking kid, goddamn. He’d even made sure to look at his porno mags that night, reassured when he felt his dick harden so fucking hard as he saw the tits and pussy that always made him so fucking hard to see. 

 So, he wasn’t gay. He fucking couldn’t be gay, and it’s not possible for him to like both, so he figured that the thought had meant... meant Mondo wanted to fucking pound Ishimaru’s head in, not- n-not any other meaning of the word that it could have meant. He guessed that he didn’t like being around Ishimaru as much as he had assumed and that he actually hated him, after all. 

 As freaked out as he’d been, he took hold of that idea and fucking ran with it. He told himself that he hated the kid, of course he hated him, his voice was fucking annoying as shit, not nice, not nice at all! 

 And so, the next day, he’d been cold to the kid. So fucking cold. And when the kid had tried to approach him after home room ended, looking open and earnest and so fucking cute-

 Mondo hadn’t been able to handle it. His stomach had clenched, and his heart had fucking lurched, and he told himself it was hatred he felt, it had to be fucking hatred. And so, he’d snarled at the kid, telling him to ‘get the fuck away from me, freak!’ before he’d run off, heart aching so fucking stupidly. 

 He had considered skipping class, getting on his hog and fucking booking it, but he needed to give his girl a break, and he still kinda wanted to try the whole ‘giving school a chance’ thing, so he’d eventually decided to storm into class, even if he’d been five minutes late. He’d refused to look at Ishimaru, though, thinking that seeing his stupid fucking pathetic face would fucking destroy him infuriate the shit out of him, and as soon as class ended, he’d shot out, not needing to pack anything up since he’d not fucking brought anything, shit. 

 That had kept happening the rest of the day. Every class they had together (which was pretty much every fucking class, god fucking damn this school) Mondo would carefully keep his eyes off the kid, ignoring the feel of sad, hurt, bright red eyes as they bored into him. After the second class, the kid had tried to chase after him, tried to talk to him, but Mondo would fucking turn and head the opposite fucking direction of their next class, and he knew the kid wouldn’t dare risk being late, so he’d give up pretty quick. He’d constantly be looking in class, though, lips pulled down in a frown, eyebrows furrowed in concern. Not that Mondo was fucking looking! Shit! 

 It wasn’t until Ishimaru had cornered him outside his dorm room that night, looking so fucking hurt and upset and not a little bit annoyed that they’d managed to resolve things. 

 In that Ishimaru had been so fucking annoying that Mondo had immediately started yelling, causing Ishimaru to yell back, his words bleeding hurt, making Mondo feel like absolute scum. They had been loud enough to garner the attention of most of their classmates, even fucking Togami gracing them with his condescending presence, which had made Mondo even more pissed, honestly, wanting nothing more than to be anywhere fucking else.

 It was when the kid looked about ready to fucking cry that Mondo had had enough. His insides were squirming, and he felt so fucking scared, for reasons he still doesn’t understand, but he... h-he hadn’t wanted to make Ishimaru cry again. After spending several days interacting with Ishimaru, having a lot of fucking conversations that hadn’t actually ended in the kid’s tears, he... he hadn’t wanted to go back to that. 

 And so, with all the confused fucking emotions swirling inside him, he’d yelled ‘fuckin’ fine, ya goddamn bastard! I’ll fuckin’ meet you and do that goddamn fuckin’ assignment tomorrow! Now leave me the fuck alone!’ before storming into his room and slamming the door shut so loud it made even his ears ring. 

 He’d then promptly stormed into the shower, turning the water on as hot as it could go, the water fucking hurting, but he’d wanted it to. He just... he’d felt so... so...

 Confused...

 He’d never felt this way for anyone before. So angry and scared and confused and yet also so fucking happy, so bizarrely, stupidly happy. Ishimaru fucking... he made him happy. And he didn’t know how to handle that, because clearly, he still hated the kid... right? Right? What other option was there? Why did he want to hit Ishimaru (and he had to want to hit him, it was the only fucking option that made any fucking sense) if he didn’t hate him? 

 But he’d agreed— stupidly— to meet with the kid for another fucking tutoring session after class the next day. And while the thought had made his insides squirm, he... fuck. He hadn’t wanted to make the kid cry again. God, did he not want that. Even if he did hate him— which he must, he must— he... fuck. 

 He couldn’t make him cry. 

 He wasn’t his goddamn old man.

 And so, when he got out of the shower, he’d resolved to contain his anger the next day. He’d push it down, keep it locked up tight tight tight, and he wouldn’t let it hurt Ishimaru. He’d gotten into bed (still hated it, but he was slowly getting use to the ridiculously plush material) and fallen into a fitful sleep, dreams full of wide, hurt red eyes, a sad voice begging him to explain why he was hurting him so. He’d woken an hour early with a start, heart pounding, and had spent the remaining time until he usually got up doing push-ups again and again and again, until he didn’t remember the dream anymore. 

 And then, when he went into class, carrying his supplies for once... he’d given the kid a small, sheepish smile, stomach roiling with all the emotions within it. He’d then spent the rest of home room doodling absently on the notebook Ishimaru had helped him pick out from the school store, doing his best to not think of everything and psych himself out. He’d even managed to feel almost calm as he let himself draw, something he rarely allows himself to do, but always has kinda enjoyed, even if he’s shit at it.

 Once home room ended, he’d waited for Ishimaru at the door, telling him as casually as he could that the nurse had contacted him the day before, saying she’d scheduled an eye doctor (he still can’t remember the official name Ishimaru called the dude, shit) appointment for 3:00 the next day, hesitantly asking the kid if he had wanted to come along. He could tell that the kid was taken aback, clearly not having expected such a thing, but he’d still stammered out an acceptance, looking so flustered it wasn’t funny when Mondo turned to look at him with a small, soft smile. He’d not meant to look at the kid like that, but he’d just... been unable to help it. 

 The rest of the day had gone well, the tutoring session going nicely like it had before that stupid fucking bullshit two days prior. It had happened in the library again, which Mondo figured would be safer. He’d almost started to hope that things would stay that way, stay as calm and easy and nice, but then-

 Mondo got angry. Again. 

 He doesn’t even know why, he never fucking does, but the kid had just... he’d been so fucking patient, helping Mondo pick out a pair of ‘reading glasses,’ since the doc had said he had pretty bad close-up vision and would be benefited from having prescription reading glasses, not just the over-the-counter stuff you find at drug stores. Mondo had felt so fucking lost, no idea what any of the bullshit meant, but Ishimaru had... he’d been so fucking helpful, explaining the complicated terminology and shit, helping him find a pair that didn’t make him look too much like a fucking nerd. And the pair he settled on was honestly kinda nice. It was a rectangular silver metal frame that had deep purple plastic on the sides, and it actually make him look kinda cool... if a bit nerdy. He’d given the salesperson his school insurance card and was pleasantly surprised to find he’d not have to pay a penny for the frames, since the school covers shit like that. 

 It was then, as he and Ishimaru exited the shop and the kid absently commented that the glasses made him look very smart that Mondo just... fucking lost it. 

 And he doesn’t even know why.

 It just... it made him feel weird inside. Being around the kid. Being soft with him. And he was. Soft. Soft and kind and fucking gentle. And the kid was the exact same back. The entire time they’d been in the shop, Mondo had been thinking how nice it had felt. How domestic. The panic and fear had been slowly rising in him the entire time they’d been in the store, and he’d done all he could to push it the fuck down, but he... he hadn’t...

 He’d left the kid standing there, looking so fucking confused, as he hopped on his hog and drove away. He’d not cared how the kid would get back to the school, he had refused to ride with Mondo since it made him ‘nervous’ anyway, so it wasn’t his fucking problem.

 And that pattern just... kept repeating. Mondo would get angry, say something toxic to the kid, and storm away. The kid would wait a couple of hours, maybe try and talk with him after class or something, only to eventually corner him and force him to talk to him, looking so fucking fed up, but also so fucking upset and sad and confused. Like he didn’t know why Mondo was doing this to him. Like he didn’t know why Mondo was being so fucking difficult. Like he... he didn’t...

 Didn’t know why he fucking bothered...

 And… honestly? Mondo didn’t know why either. Why he kept trying. Why he was so stubborn, always chasing after Mondo even after Mondo fucking shoved him away, sometimes literally. Even when Mondo would get so fucking nasty, making tears build up in the kid’s eyes, frustration clear in his every movement. 

 For almost two weeks this occurred, again and again and again, and Mondo... Mondo doesn’t know why the kid doesn’t just leave him already. Why he doesn’t just say ‘the hell with it,’ realize Mondo isn’t fucking worth it, and leave his ass. Like every other person on the face of this goddamn planet... 

 It’s only a matter of time until he does, though. Leave him. It’s what always was going to happen, since Mondo couldn’t ever hope to hold onto someone so very, very good. So very, very nice. Mondo is poison. He’s gas. He only knows how to destroy and break and hurt. 

 He’s not allowed something nice. 

 He’s not allowed someone nice. 

 He’s just...

 Not worthy of it. 

 Case in fucking point...

 “Look. Owada-kun,” Ishimaru spits, hands clenched around the stupid glasses case that he for some reason has (Mondo doesn’t even know how he’d gotten a hold of them, shit), looking like he wants to crush them, shit. “I don’t understand why you’re being so stubborn about this! You picked them out! You said they were fine! Why! Why have you changed your mind!”

 Mondo scowls at the words, heart racing and swirling and hurting, hurting, hurting, and he doesn’t wanna be doing this, wants to stop, but he can’t, he can’t, he fucking can’t! He doesn’t know how to stop this, doesn’t know how to make this go away, all he knows how to do is break and hurt and destroy, destroy, destroy-

 “I ain’t changed shit! I never fuckin’ agreed ta wear fuckin’ glasses, now get the fuck outta my face!” 

 It’s a lie. They both know it’s a lie, he can see the anger rising on Ishimaru’s face as he processes the abject lie. Mondo had, in fact, agreed on the glasses, had even kinda liked them, but he can’t concede that, can’t say he does, if he does then- then that means he’s okay with this, this weird thing he has going on with Ishimaru, and he doesn’t know if he can handle that, handle the proof that Ishimaru is so fucking amazing, the proof that Mondo doesn’t fucking deserve him, proof that... t-that he... 

 Mondo can’t take it. He can’t fucking take it! He tries to leave, to get away, to fucking end this shit already, but then Ishimaru is grabbing hold of him, holding so fucking tight, and Mondo tries to break free, tries to get away, but the kid just doesn’t fucking let go, and Mondo is so fucking freaked out, he just wants to leave, please god, let him just leave, don’t let him break this fucking kid again, god, please- 

 “You-! You are the most infuriating, pig-headed, arrogant... jerk I have ever had the misfortune to meet! If I never saw your face again, it wouldn’t be long enough!”

 “Oh, I’m so wounded, please don’t call me anymore fuckin’ names like that, how the fuck am I ever gonna recover?!” Mondo snarls, sarcasm so thick he’s sure even Ishimaru will be able to pick up on it, wanting to stop but not being able to. “Grow the fuck up, ya cock suckin’ assfucker! Learn some better fuckin’ insults or don’t even bother tryin’ ta play!”

 “Just because I am too sophisticated to resort to such foul language does not mean anything! You may be a lowly, classless heathen, but I, for one, refuse-”

 “Oh, so now ya think yer fuckin’ better than me?! I told ya already, y’ain’t goddamn shit, Ishimaru! Ain’t no shit at all!”

 “I am one hundred times the man you will ever hope to be! And if I’m not... feces, then you’re not even worth anything at all! Y-you’re... you’re an amoeba, so tiny and insignificant that it’s a miracle you think you’re relevant at all!”

 “What the fuck did ya call me, ya son ofa bitch?!”

 Mondo sees the kid open his mouth— likely to fire something back, barely any space between them— holding onto Mondo’s arm so fucking tight, like his life depends on it or something, looking so fucking pissed and angry and hurt and fucking beautiful, so fucking beautiful, god fucking damnit-

 But before the kid can say anything, another voice pipes up, the same voice as earlier, making Mondo’s rage reach a paramount, oh god-

 “Aw, come on! I thought you guys resolved things already, do you really have to do this?! Please!” 

 Mondo turns to the fucking eavesdropper, snarling at the beyond fucking average boy. Naegi turns super fucking pale at the look, but he doesn’t cower away for once. Mondo doesn’t care. He’s far passed the point of caring. 

 “I told ya ta stay the fuck outta this!” 

 Naegi frowns, but Mondo doesn’t give him a chance to say any other stupid ass thing before he’s turning back to Ishimaru, eyes practically spitting fire as he stares so deep into Ishimaru’s that it feels almost like a physical embrace. It makes Mondo’s breath hitch for some stupid fucking reason, his stomach swirling as he looks deep into the most gorgeous fucking eyes he’s ever fucking seen-

 But he can’t feel things like that, so he pushes it firmly away. 

 He can hear their eavesdropper fucking sigh, soft and almost disappointed, and that should make Mondo even angrier, but something in Mondo is feeling so fucking weird now. G-god... he doesn’t even know how to begin to describe it, other than it feels like he’s on fire, but not even in a bad way. Ishimaru is staring at him, eyes wide, anger in them, but also something else, something Mondo can’t understand, no matter how much he fucking wants to. 

 He can’t let this end here. He wants to let it end, but he fucking can’t. He... h-he needs to figure out how to settle this, how to make this stop, how to not be as fucking pathetic as he knows he is. He... he needs to prove that he’s not as worthless as they both know he is, as weak, as nothing, so fucking nothing. Everyone knows it, knows he doesn’t belong here, knows that Ishimaru is so much better than him it’s not funny, but he- he needs to prove that he has something going for him, that he... he can do something, even if he’s worthless in every other regard, every other aspect, even if Ishimaru is better than him everywhere else he just needs to prove he can beat him at fucking something, god-

 He’s issuing the challenge before he can stop himself. 

 And god, is he so fucking afraid. 

 “You think yer so perfect, don’t ya, Ishimaru? Think yer better than me? Well... well, yer not, an’ I can fuckin’ prove it. I bet I can beat you, hands down, any day of the fuckin’ week. Y’ain’t better than me, ya shit fuck. Y’ain’t nothin’,” Mondo hisses, lying through his fucking teeth. Ishimaru is better than him. He knows it. He’s always known it. He hates it, though. Not being good enough. Not being worthy. He... he wants to be. Good enough. For... f-for... 

 Ishimaru’s eyes are shiny again, even despite his glare. 

 Typical. 

 “What?! Y-you guys aren’t going to- to fight, are you? Guys-!”

 Mondo breaks his stare down with Ishimaru to shoot that goddamn fucking bastard a single, solitary sneer, before turning back to Ishimaru, chest heaving with all the emotions he carries within him. 

 “Nah. Ground floor, there’s a sauna. Ya know it?” 

 Ishimaru blinks slowly, sluggish, before nodding slightly, looking very fucking confused. His eyebrows are furrowed, and his lips are pulled down, and he looks so fucking cute stupid, god. After a moment, though, it seems he understands what Mondo is getting at, the challenge he is suggesting, as his face lights up, eyes bright and passionate once more, an honest to god grin on his face. 

 Holy fucking shit... 

 “Aha! A simple endurance challenge! If that is your gauntlet, then I happily accept! I will wipe the floor with you!” 

 Despite the anger that is still flowing through him, Mondo can’t help the small smile that passes on his lips, something about the enthusiasm so fucking... not cute, not cute, not cute at all, but maybe, a little, teeny tiny bit... endearing? He pushes it away, though. It’s not helpful, here. 

 “Yer fuckin’ on. And you,” Mondo points blindly to Naegi— who ‘eeps’ at the gesture, fucking coward he is— not able to look away from Ishimaru for a single fucking second, “will be our witness. Got it?!” 

 As intently as Mondo is staring at Ishimaru, he doesn’t see the other kid’s response, but he can hear how Naegi splutters, the kid clearly not as enthusiastic about the idea as Ishimaru and himself are. Bastard. 

 “W-what?! Now?! B-but it’s so late... g-guys, are you sure this is a- a good idea-?!”

 “Yes, ya fuckin’ moron, it’s a fuckin’ great idea!” Mondo snarls, at the exact same time Ishimaru— eyes bright and feverish— exclaims, “yes! It is an excellent idea!” 

 Uncomfortable at their agreement, Mondo finally tears his eyes away, ignoring the churning feeling in his chest as he storms down the hall to where the bathhouse is, mere meters away. Ishimaru stares after him for a stunned second, but quickly spurs himself into motion, using his long-ish legs to catch up quick, head held high as they march determinedly on. God... he’s so fucking...

 Shit. 

 When they reach the bathhouse a few moments later, Mondo firmly pushes aside the rational voice inside him that is screaming at him not to do this. He knows his limits when it comes to endurance. While he’s not the best at running, he has great endurance for other things, especially pain and discomfort. (This sentence was removed due to ~~spoilers~~) 

 But Ishimaru... fuck. He’s so fucking passionate, so fucking determined, but who knows what his endurance is like? If he’ll be able to keep up? And it shouldn’t matter, shouldn’t give Mondo pause, but he... he can’t help the stab of concern that fills him as they enter the room, Mondo grabbing a ‘closed for repairs’ sign and putting it in front of the entrance, not wanting anyone to interrupt. 

 He hates the feeling and pushes it away as he turns to glare at Ishimaru, pointing a finger, not wanting to deal with such weakness, but he... he can’t quite manage to force it fully away... 

 Shit. 

 “Alright, here’s the fuckin’ terms. First ta tap out is a fuckin’ bitch ass loser who ain’t worth shit. The one who lasts the longest is the official winner. We ain’t allowed ta touch the other or do anythin’ ta them directly, this is strictly an endurance challenge. Oh, an’ we’re gonna do this fully clothed. What do ya say?!” 

 Mondo sees Ishimaru’s eyes widen when he gets to the last term, the kid fucking shaking his head sharply in denial. Fuck. Fuck. Shit. He’d added that last clause in last minute, realizing as he detailed the rules that they were gonna be fucking half fucking naked in there, and his mind had shorted the fuck out. He’s been in saunas fully clothed before, he knows he can handle it, but he isn’t fucking sure he can handle sitting nearly nude beside Ishi-fucking-maru...

 But of course, the kid wouldn’t fucking agree. Of fucking course...

 “I do not agree to that last term, but I agree to the rest!” 

 Glad his angry flush fully disguises the fucking embarrassed flush he can feel rising on his face, Mondo just nods tensely, sneering, as he storms over to the water cooler in the corner. 

 “Alright, whatever, fucker. Ya got five minutes ta prepare. Then, we’re fuckin’ doin’ this shit.” 

 With that, Mondo grabs a paper cup and downs some water, feeling so impossibly tense. He can feel Ishimaru staring at him, mouth partially open, but he gets spurned into action when Naegi shifts awkwardly beside him, chasing the kid away to one of the lockers, where he... he fucking...

 Starts taking off his fucking clothes...

 Holy. Fucking. Shit. 

 Mondo is staring. Mondo knows he shouldn’t be staring, knows it’s wrong to be staring, but he can’t fucking help it. His eyes are like magnets, drawn to the kid, watching as he takes off all of his fucking layers, folding each one so neatly and carefully as he sticks them in the small fucking locker. The kid hesitates a little when he gets to his fucking tighty-whities (of course the kid wears that shit, of fucking course), but ultimately, he doesn’t take them off. Instead, he bites his lip and grabs a white towel, wrapping it firmly around his waist before putting the rest of his stuff away. Mondo firmly pushes down the stupid as shit rush of disappointment and tells himself to stop staring, to look away, but god, he fucking can’t. Ishimaru, he...

 He’s so fucking gorgeous, so fucking hot, so fucking sexy-

 Mondo feels himself heat the fuck up when Ishimaru turns abruptly and looks him straight in the eyes, looking fucking startled at something. Feeling strangely caught, Mondo looks away as quick as he can, pushing away the stupid as shit thoughts, marching over to a locker stiffly. Shit... he’s gotta fucking get laid one of these days. The tension is doing fucked up shit to his brain... 

 He takes his time putting some of his more fragile shit away, like his crappy cellphone and his key card. He does, honestly, consider taking off his uniform, or at least taking off his duster, but he just... shit. Can’t. Not with how strange he feels inside, his mind’s eye still stupidly forcing him to think of Ishimaru, his stupidly muscular back flexing with every move he made. It means nothing, fucking nothing, but he... shit. It prolly would be better to remain fully clothed, duster included, even if it does put him at a disadvantage. But ya know what, whatever. Doesn’t matter. He knows his limits and knows that he can last longer in the sauna than Ishimaru, even when fully clothed. Shit...

 When the five minutes he gave them are up, he meets up with Ishimaru outside the entrance to the sauna, fully intending to slide it open and step inside, when-

 “Owada-kun, you cannot seriously be considering entering the sauna fully clothed! It’s suicide!” Ishimaru exclaims, sounding fucking concerned as shit. His eyes are wide, and his brows are furrowed, and he’s biting his fucking lip, god fucking damn, and it’s messing with Mondo’s head so fucking much. Why... why the fuck would he care?! Huh?! They’re not fucking friends! Why would he care if Mondo did try and kill himself, huh?! World would fucking be better off for it, shit! 

 Deciding to definitely not say that, Mondo just sneers at the kid, crossing his arms stubbornly. 

 “Just ‘cuz yer a fuckin’ pansy ass bitch don’t mean I am! Now, ya ready ta do this, or are ya a fuckin’ chicken?!”  

 His face flushed, Ishimaru doesn’t even bother to answer, instead just yanking open the door and entering the sauna with a stubborn tilt to his jaw. 

 Staring after the kid for a split second (pushing down the disappointment that he didn’t press the issue harder, proving to Mondo how fucking right he is), Mondo enters on Ishimaru’s heels, the heat not even bothering him one bit. 

 It’s nothing compared to the fire that constantly burns within him. 

 Sliding the door shut behind him, leaving Naegi outside to do whatever the fuck he wants while the contest takes place, Mondo marches over to where Ishimaru is sitting, taking a seat an arm’s length away. He can feel bright red eyes on him, but he determinedly pushes the feeling away, trading a few snide comments with the kid, not even feeling the heat really. 

 About ten minutes in, Mondo will admit the heat is getting to him a little, a thin sheen of sweat making its way onto his skin, which is more uncomfortable than anything. Ishimaru looks a little woozy, so Mondo taunts that the kid should just give up now. Ishimaru just laughs, saying how he never gives up, ever. Fucking pretentious bastard. 

 After half an hour, he can admit he is feeling kinda uncomfortable, the heat becoming somewhat unpleasant, but he’s still feeling pretty good, all things considered. Ishimaru looks flushed as all hell, though, his cheeks bright red and sweat clinging to his muscles. The kid tells him— unprompted— that he’s doing fine, and Mondo’s brain feels too stupid to allow him to do much else than glare, shit... 

 After around fifty minutes, the kid... he looks fucking awful. Mondo isn’t doing too hot, the uncomfortable feeling spreading to be extremely uncomfortable, but he knows he can handle it. The kid, though... he looks like he’s starting to lose it. Ishimaru mentions absently that he’s starting to feel cold, which honestly concerns Mondo, since he knows that shit is a bad sign, but his head is too stupid to remember why, so he just says it’s prolly not good. The kid doesn’t call it quits, though. 

 Instead, he actually... talks... huh. 

 “Y-you can take off your uniform... if you w-want... I- I won’t judge...” the boy mumbles, sounding super fucking exhausted. Mondo tries to snort, but it’s a lot harder than it should be, shit. 

 “N-nah... I’m... I’m... I’m good,” Mondo finds himself muttering back, looking at the kid intensely, wondering why he isn’t giving up when he so clearly feels sick. Mondo finds himself muttering about how red Ishimaru’s is, likening him to a hot spring monkey, of all things. The kid mumbles back about being born with a red face, which makes no fucking sense, but ya know what? He’s too tired to waste energy on this shit. He’s got a challenge to win. 

 After what he figures is an hour and five minutes, the warning bell rings, telling them they have five minutes until curfew. Mondo figures the hall monitor will end this now, since he wouldn’t dare stay out past curfew and risk breaking one of his ‘precious rules,’ but the kid doesn’t seem to even notice the bell had rung. S-shit... that... that’s not good, is it...? 

 Mondo gets distracted from his stupid as shit concern when a new voice pipes up, shocking Mondo. Huh... he hadn’t realized the kid was still out there. Shit. 

 “U-uh guys? It’s almost curfew, shouldn’t you... stop? I know you both want to prove how big of badasses you are but... don’t you think you’ve done enough?”

 Mondo scowls at the meaning of the words, knowing that he sure as shit ain’t gonna back down first. He’s already so worthless. He’s gotta prove that he can at least do this, of all fucking things.

 “Shut up!” he barks, at the same time Ishimaru does, making him feel fucking wigged out at how they’re both on the same page again. 

 Naegi replies back to them, saying something about it being nighttime, and a tie... it honestly offends Mondo, but before he can reply, the kid is... talking... saying something about how in a true competition, there are no ties. That you either win or you lose, and that... that’s the only thing that matters. It honestly kinda pisses Mondo off, even if he agrees fully, so he fires back how he will push the kid right up to the gates of hell, meaning it fully. 

 He tells Naegi to leave then, knowing that this might drag on a lot longer than he had anticipated. Shit. He knew Ishimaru was fucking stubborn as shit, willing to do absolutely anything to reach his goals, but this... this is just madness. Utter madness. As Naegi leaves, Mondo cannot help how he stares at the hall monitor, who looks so fucking sick right now. He does his best to ignore it, to wait the kid out, but when roughly fifteen more minutes pass and the kid isn’t tapping out, despite looking half dead, he... he can’t help the worry that he feels. And then, when the kid closes his eyes, barely breathing, Mondo... s-shit... 

 “Hey... man... are you... are you okay...? Ya don’t... don’t look so good...” 

 Mondo listens, getting really kinda freaked, when Ishimaru lets out a soft puff of air, almost like he’s trying to laugh but can’t find the energy. He lolls his head over to Mondo, the first movement he’s done in minutes, but his eyes are still closed, which looks so fucking freaky. It takes him far longer than it should to open his eyes, and when he does, they... shit. They look glazed, like the kid isn’t fucking in there, like he... he’s...

 Already dead...

 F-fuck... 

 It really does look like that, though. Eyes glazed, mouth partially open, chest so scarily still... o-oh, shit. Shit, what if he... what if he is dead...?! Y-yeah, he just moved, but he- he looks so still, it... Mondo... 

 But then the kid is speaking, and he sounds so very out of it, but at least he’s alive, thank god... 

 “I- I’m... I’m fine, I...” 

 Oh, shit... no, he... he’s not fine, is he...? Shit... s-shit...

 “Shit... man... no, y’ain’t. I know my... my limits. I’ve got some time... left in me... but you... shit. Just give up, dude. Just... just give... up...” 

 It makes something in Mondo clench when he sees the kid’s face screw up, like he wants to cry but just has no tears left within him. And then he... he’s speaking... 

 “No... n-no, I can’t... I- I can’t... give up... I have to... have to...”

 The kid stops, then, and Mondo feels so fucking confused, his head all stupid because of the heat, making it hard to think. What? He has to... what? 

 “Hafta... what? What... is so important... ta ya?”

 The kid blinks, like he hadn’t expected to be spoken to, before opening his mouth and muttering words. It... it’s like the kid doesn’t even know he’s speaking, the words sounding so fucking slurred and soft. Mondo has to strain to hear them, even though the silence is oppressive between them. 

 “I can’t... give up... must... restore... honor... family... f-family name...” 

 Mondo furrows his eyebrows, his lips turned down in a frown, not... not understanding...

 “Yer family... name? What… what about it?” 

 Ishimaru blinks, like he can barely understand what Mondo is saying, and fuck is that scary... 

 “I must... fix his mistakes. I must... I must bring honor t-to... to our name... my grandfather...”

 Okay, that... that doesn’t make any fucking sense... his grandfather? The fuck? Shit... Ishimaru needs to stop this, he... he’s not making any sense...

 “What? The fuck... the fuck ya talkin’ ‘bout, man? Shit... Ishimaru, yer ‘bout ta... ta fuckin’ pass out... why can’t ya just... just give up, man?” 

 Ishimaru isn’t looking at him anymore and is instead staring blankly at the steam that is billowing around them, looking like he’s not aware where the fuck he is. It makes Mondo’s stomach clench, the concern rising. He... he doesn’t wanna give up, needs to prove himself, but he... Ishimaru... f-fuck... 

 And then... Ishimaru starts talking again...

 “It... it’s all up to me to fix it... t-to make it better... m-make it- it right-! I... I can’t... give up, I... I’m not... not allowed to... give up... giving up is- is wrong... and immoral, and- and I am not wrong! I... I’m not- not immoral... I... I’m better... better than my grandfather... better than myself... better... than...” 

 Okay. Okay. Okay, it’s official. Mondo is fucking freaked the fuck out. What... what does any of that even mean? He... Ishimaru...

 “Fuck, dude, yer- yer scarin’ me... what the hell does… does any a’ that even… even mean? Yer the fuckin’... Ultimate Moral Compass... ‘course yer not- not... immoral...” 

 Ishimaru is shaking now, eyes still glazed, staring at the steam as if it holds the answer to life itself. And fuck... it’s so fucking creepy... 

 “But I am, I am... I’m worthless, I’m nothing... my grandfather... he’d done so many terrible things, had hurt s-so many people... he’d ruined... ruined Japan... e-everyone hated him... hated me... I have to do better... to be better... to fix... my grandfather’s... mistakes...”

 His grandfather? Who the fuck is his grandfather? And why... why does he even matter? Even if he was so fucking terrible, Ishimaru... he ain’t... he...

 “Dude... y’ain’t... ain’t yer grandfather... yer yer own person... an’ frankly... I kinda... kinda like... s-shit. Just... stop this, man. Just admit it. Admit it’s... too much...” 

 The kid shakes his head, and Mondo doesn’t know how he’s able to even hear him, as far fucking gone as he looks, but fuck, he’s clearly responding, ain’t he...? 

 “Nnnn- n-no! I- I... I can’t... can’t admit... weakness... god I’m so... so weak... pathetic... the children, they’re right about me, they’re all so... so right... I’ll never... amount to- to anything... I’m worthless... pathetic... scum...” 

 H-holy shit... Ishimaru he... he can’t fucking believe that... can he? No... n-no, he... he ain’t none of that shit, Mondo is, Mondo is, but not- not Ishimaru! He... he’s fucking... he... 

 “Ishimaru... Ishimaru, stop... s-stop! Y’ain’t... none a’ that is... is true... yer the best... goddamn person I ever... ever met, ya... ya never gave up on me... no matter how horrible I treated ya... ya just... wouldn’t leave... I tried ta make ya leave, why... why wouldn’t ya leave...” 

 He hadn’t meant to ask the question, voice so fucking soft, but he couldn’t help it. It’s been plaguing him for weeks now, wondering why... why Ishimaru bothered staying... why he didn’t just leave his ass... why he didn’t just... give up on him... like everyone always does... 

 “Me... leave? Why? Where would I... go...? I’ve n-never... had a friend... if this is... is friendship... then what else can I... do? I don’t... w-wanna... be...... alone.........”

 Oh... oh, shit... suddenly, so many things make so much fucking sense. Why the kid always seems so fucking nervous and awkward around people, though he tries his damndest to hide it. Why he is always alone, never seen really talking to anyone, not without a reason. Why he always... always does his best to extend olive branches to people, offering to tutor or help or do whatever is needed to... to get them to talk to him... g-god... he never would have thought the kid would have no friends, even though it’s so fucking obvious when Mondo thinks about it. He’s just... he’s just so fucking bright and full of sunshine... Mondo can’t imagine people seeing that and not... not wanting to... 

 It’s right then, in that moment, brain stupid from heat, halfway gone but not fully gone yet, that Mondo... Mondo makes a decision. 

 If they survive this stupid fucking challenge... he... he will be Ishimaru— no, Kiyotaka, his name is- is Kiyotaka... he will be Kiyotaka’s friend... and he will be a fucking good one, the friend that the kid... that he fucking deserves...

 If the kid even wants to be friends with him... 

 “Fuckin’... shit, man. Yer not... alone... I’m here. Ishimaru... Kiyotaka... I’m right... right here...” 

 The kid shakes his head, breath still shallow, but now it’s wavering, shaking... trembling... g-god... fuck...

 “No... no... I’m alone, I’m alone. Everyone... always leaves... my mother... my grandfather... even my father would leave... if he could... he’s never... never understood me. No one... understands me... I don’t... even... understand...... myself..........”

 Oh. Oh. Oh. This... this poor fucking boy... he... s-shit. Shit... this... they gotta fucking stop this... they... 

 “I... I understand ya. Yer... yer like me... ain’t ya? Shit. We gotta... gotta stop this, man... what are ya... tryin’... ta prove?” 

 Kiyotaka is shaking again, looking like he wants to cry but just... can’t. God... god... fucking... god.

 “Everything. Everything. Every… everything… I have to prove them... wrong. I have to prove... that I can do this. If I... if I give up... i-if I let myself give up... then I fail. I fail, I fail, I fail, I fail, I fail. I c-can’t... fail, I can’t... g-give up... or else... what is... the point... of me...?” 

 Point? The point? Why... why does he have to have a point? Shit... he’s so fucking amazing, he... he doesn’t have to have a point... no more than just... just being... 

 “Ain’t gotta... have a point man... ya can just... be. Be... Kiyotaka. What’s so wrong... with that?” 

 The blank look on the kid’s face grows, his voice soft, weak. Trembling, like he doesn’t mean to say it, like he doesn’t even know what he’s saying. Mondo has never heard someone sound so... so... dead before... h-holy shit...

 “Everything. Everything. Everything. E-everything... is wrong with... me... I- I’m too... too much. T-too passionate... too vibrant... I- I hurt... hurt my own eyes... I hate... l-looking at myself... hate... b-being myself... if I could... be someone else... I- I would... gladly...” 

 No. No. No, fucking... no! Ish- Kiyo... Kiyotaka can’t fucking believe that... yeah, he’s so fucking passionate, so fucking bright, but that... that’s not a bad thing... he... he’s so fucking good... so fucking... amazing... and he... Mondo wouldn’t...

 “I wouldn’t. Want that. Yer... fuck. Yer somethin’... somethin’ special... I thought I... I hated that ‘bout you, but... man you... you shine... I don’t deserve... someone as... as wonderful... as you...”

 Kiyotaka is shaking his head again, barely breathing, looking so dead, so very, very... dead...

 Oh, god...

 “I- I’m not... wonderful. I’m not... anything. T-the children... they hated me... t-they all... hated me. My f-father... hates me. My mother... if she could s-see me... now... s-she’d hate me... too. Why... w-why do I bother... trying...? W-why... why don’t I just... g-give up...” 

 N-no... no, no, god, please... no... Mondo feels pressure behind his eyes, and he doesn’t think he has ever felt such pain. Because that... that sounds so goddamn familiar... he always has seen Kiyotaka as so different to him, so much better, so much brighter. But if the kid is to be believed... he... he thinks of himself like... like Mondo thinks of himself, and he... he can’t... can’t fucking stand that thought, oh god... 

 “Kiyo... Kiyota- Taka. Kiyo... Taka. Just... ya don’t hafta... give up... but yer... yer gonna kill yerself if ya... keep this up... s-shit...”

 Mondo feels himself go cold when Kiyotaka responds, sounding half dead, looking so... so nothing... 

 “Kill... myself? No... I’m not- not that weak... not anymore... not... n-not again... but maybe... maybe... m-maybe it would be better. If I weren’t... weren’t...” a pause. “Alive...”

 What?! No... no, no.... nonononononononononono-!!! He... he can’t... he can’t-

 “What?! Dude... no... god... fuckin’... dammit! Ya can’t be... serious... Kiyo... Taka, ya can’t...”

 “I am. I am. I- I am. If I wasn’t... so weak. If I wasn’t... s-so afraid. I know... k-know how to fix it... a-all of it. How to... t-to make it better. My father... would be happier. The children... w-would be happier. And I... I... I’d be... I’d be...”

 A pause. Inhalation of breath. And then... softly, so fucking softly...

 “Dead...” 

 No. No. No, fucking-! No. This... this is so fucking stupid, why is Mondo doing this, he... he has to stop this. This kid ain’t gonna stop, he can’t fucking stop, he won’t stop until he is fucking dead, and Mondo... Mondo can’t... he fucking can’t-

 He can’t lose someone else... not during another fucking challenge that he fucking issued... he just... can’t.

 “Okay. That’s it. This ain’t... fuckin’ worth it. If y’ain’t... gonna quit... then I! I fuckin’... I fuckin’ will. Ya... ya win... Kiyo... Taka... ya... ya win. Now, c’mon, man. Let’s… let’s get outta here.”

 With all the strength he has left, Mondo stands and hobbles over to where Kiyotaka is sitting, looking like a puppet with its strings cut. He’s not moving, barely breathing, and his eyes are so glazed over Mondo doesn’t think he can even see right now. Mondo has never seen someone look so still before, and it scares the ever-loving shit out of him. Especially now that he... he knows that... that the kid has tried... or at least wanted...

 Fuck. 

 Fuck. 

 Fuck.

 But he doesn’t have time to hate himself for issuing this stupid ass challenge. He doesn’t have time to waste. Gathering all his strength, he bends down, and he wraps an arm around Kiyotaka, heart stopping when he feels how boneless he is, not moving at all. But then, as he starts moving towards the door, he feels the kid start to struggle. It’s weak and doesn’t sway Mondo even a second, but fuck does it relieve him. The kid is even able to walk a little, barely. It... it’s good. 

 The second he manages to get the door open, however, the cool air almost torture on his overheated skin, he feels Kiyotaka gasp, all the fragile strength he had gone as his knees buckle, making him deadweight. But Mondo hasn’t spent the majority of his life lifting weights for nothing, so he just adjusts his grip, taking on more of the kid’s weight. He doesn’t lift him, doesn’t have time for that, but he drags him bodily over to the bench, accidentally throwing him on it since he’s not really at a hundred percent himself. He sees the kid start to topple, then, and he immediately moves forward to steady the kid, the skin under his hands far, far too warm. Oh... shit, that’s not... not good, oh fuck...

 “Goddamn shit. Ya look... fuck man. Why didn’t ya just... dammit. Ya need water... I’ll be right back.”

 Mondo stand abruptly then, feeling clumsy and wrong. His chest feels so fucking painful, like it’s being sat on by an elephant, and he doesn’t think he’s ever felt more concerned for anyone. Well... other than one person... but shit, he can’t think of him, not now. Not now. Not when Kiyotaka needs him. He takes off his duster as he strides forward, tossing it carelessly on a bench, too fucking hot to deal with that shit. He needs to go quick, needs to... to get back to Kiyotaka... and he needs to drink some water himself, fuck, he’s so fucking dehydrated... fuck. 

 However... once he’s at the water cooler, filling up one of the paper cups for himself to drink, he hears the kid muttering again, the words making no goddamn sense, but damn if it doesn’t make his heart clench...

 “...they won’t, they won’t, they won’t... I’m alone, again... all alone... everyone has left... everyone leaves me in the end... why would I expect anything different... why would I expect-“

 Shit. Shit. Shit. Mondo quickly finishes filling the cup and downs it, filling the second one as quickly as possible while the kid rambles on about being alone again. As soon as the cup is full Mondo practically teleports back to the kid’s side, an odd sense in him that he never, ever wants to be anywhere else... 

 “Shit, Kiyotaka, I’m here. I just... had ta drink myself, shit. Now c’mon. Drink this. Please, man. Fer me. I can’t... ya can’t fuckin’ die on me, man... f-fuck...” 

 He carefully places his hand on the back of Kiyotaka’s neck, lifting it gently up, so he can get the kid to drink some water. He knows that the boy is prolly dehydrated as fuck, and he seriously hopes that’s the only thing wrong with him, because if it isn’t... s-shit. He can feel Kiyotaka struggle as he moves him, his lips moving, muttering those fucking words again... 

 “W-why am I so weak, I need to... to be stronger... to be... better...”

 God, is everything this kid says gonna make his heart break? God... he’s not equipped for this, he doesn’t know how to be kind, to be gentle, but after all the shit he has done, all the pain and misery he has needlessly made this wondrous, incredible, sad fucking boy go through... he owes it to him to not only try, but to succeed. 

 Even if it fucking kills him... 

 “Shh... hey, it’s okay. Y’ain’t fuckin’ weak, man, yer goddamn incredible. Now c’mon. Stop fightin’ me. Let me take care a’ you. You... you’ve been so strong fer so long. Let me... let me help you...” 

 With that, he slowly presses the cup against the kid’s lips, and he feels as he struggles, whimpering softly, scared. Shit, he... he prolly has no idea what the fuck is going on, is so fucking disoriented... 

 He begins whispering to the kid then, not knowing what to say, but just... knowing he has to say something, something soothing. He hums softly as he decides to just... let the soft words that he’s been gathering for weeks now out of his heart, telling Kiyotaka that he is there, that he will always be there, promising that he’s not alone, that he’ll never be alone again, that Mondo will take care of him, he promises... he promises... 

 And then he... he says...

 “Open up, Kiyotaka, shit. P-please... I’m beggin’ ya man... just... drink some water...” 

 The kid... Kiyotaka stops struggling then, and finally, finally opens his lips. It’s just a little, a small amount, but it’s enough for a small trickle of water to get passed his dry and cracked lips, which is so fucking relieving. But then... then the kid startles again, a soft sound of distress getting released as he panics, taking too much water too quick. Oh, shit... 

 So fucking scared, not knowing what to do but knowing he has to do something, Mondo lowers the hand holding the cup but doesn’t put it down, moving his other hand to rub soothing circles on the kid’s back, shushing him softly. 

 “Aw, shit. Slowly, man, slowly. That’s it, nice an’ easy... I’m gonna try that again, okay? Go slow this time. Idiot.”

 With that, Mondo moves his hand back to Kiyotaka’s neck and brings the cup back up to his lips, praying that he will drink this time. He’s so fucking dehydrated and if he won’t drink, Mondo is gonna have to call an ambulance or some shit, because he needs liquid, and fast. 

 Luckily, this time when he asks the kid to open up, he does so immediately. And then, when he tips a little of the liquid into his mouth, the kid doesn’t panic and just... sips it. Slowly. Mondo can see his throat working, moving slowly, swallowing the water, and fuck... he’s never felt so relieved in his life, watching the kid drink some fucking water, god... 

 However, then the kid is letting out a sound of desperation, seeming to realize that he is so fucking thirsty or something. He sees the kid’s hands try to come up, wavering so fucking much as they try and force the water down faster, but Mondo stops him, knowing he needs to go slow. 

 “Aw, shit man, stop! Ya gotta go slow. Yer dehydrated, ya can’t drink it too fast... trust me, man. I got you. I won’t let you down. Not again. I… I promise.”

 And he means it. He fucking means it. He has failed this kid so many fucking times, but he won’t this time, and he never will again. Because now he... he knows that this kid fucking matters. He’s always known that, from the minute the kid had run into him and knocked his world on its side, but- but he... he’s always been so afraid of it. Of the feeling. Of what it means. 

 But he’s not afraid of it. Not now. Not... not anymore. He doesn’t know why he feels this way, why this boy matters so fucking much to him, but it just doesn’t matter now, and he refuses to let his goddamn fucking nonsense ruin this shit anymore. This kid has faced some truly horrible fucking things, things that Mondo has barely scratched the surface of but can tell have damaged the kid so fucking much. He has scars all over his chest and back, which Mondo has noticed before, of course he’s noticed them, but now he’s really starting to realize what exactly they mean, and it just... it’s fucking him up inside, and all he wants is to bundle this kid up and never let him get hurt again, keep him safe from all harm, and Mondo has always felt like that, always wanted that, but now, for once...

 He’s not afraid of it. 

 And he won’t back down. 

 Not unless Kiyotaka wants him to...

 (But even then. Even then, Mondo will do everything he can to keep him safe. He won’t stalk the kid, but he will make sure that no one dares to lay a finger on him. He’s firmly under Mondo’s protection now. Nothing will change that. Absolutely nothing.) 

 Knowing that Kiyotaka needs to drink more, so he’s not so weak (physically. He’s so fucking strong emotionally, so fucking strong) anymore, he presses the cup back to the boy’s lips, his heart lurching softly when the kid immediately opens up and drinks, slowly, not even needing Mondo to remind him to go slow and steady. Mondo is so fucking proud of the kid, like a fucking mother hen, but he doesn’t care. This kid deserves all the softness in the world. If there’s one thing Mondo is sure of, it’s that. 

 It doesn’t take long for the cup to run empty, but the kid needs more, so Mondo gets up to refill the cup. But then he’s fucking crying, sad and pitiful, and Mondo immediately returns, holding him close, saying to him, “aw, shit, I’m just getting more water, alright? I’ll be right back, I promise.”

 And when Mondo is forced to leave again— though god does he not want to— he keeps talking. Promising that he’ll be right back, that he’s not leaving, that he will never leave again... promises that he will never break, and not just because he doesn’t break promises, but because he fucking means the shit out of them. More than any promise he’s ever made before. 

 He’s back soon after, bringing two cups with him this time, helping Kiyotaka drink, and drink, and drink. Mondo doesn’t know much about severe dehydration, just knows that it’s important for the person to be given fluids, preferably sports drinks, but since he doesn’t have that shit, water will have to do. If Kiyotaka doesn’t get better after the third cup, Mondo’s gonna try and see if he can take him to the nurse if the lady is still there. If not... shit. He’ll prolly have to call an ambulance, since he doesn’t think Kiyotaka could handle riding on his hog to the hospital, which is at least a ten-minute ride away. He’s hoping he won’t have to do that, though. Hopes that drinking the water will be enough to help him. He also hopes that it’s just dehydration that’s the problem... fuck. 

 The good thing is that Kiyotaka is drinking willingly. And the more he drinks, the more lucid he appears. He still seems very out of it, but about halfway through the third cup, he starts blinking rapidly, like waking himself from a dream. His eyebrows furrow, and he starts looking around a bit. He takes in the bathhouse and even looks down at his chest, like he’s just then noticing that he’s half naked. Mondo allows him to do this, but always makes sure the kid is still drinking, wanting to make sure he gets at least three cups in, since he had to have lost a lot of water while sweating. Mondo himself isn’t feeling too hot and knows he needs to drink more, too, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t ensure that Kiyotaka is okay before doing anything else for himself. 

 Mondo knows the exact second that things slot into place for the kid, since one second he’s loose and pliant in his arms, allowing him to hold his neck and give him the water, and the next he’s sitting ramrod straight, eyes wide. It startles Mondo a bit and he straightens up from the hunch he’d found himself in, so fucking relieved to see some lucidity in those bright red eyes. Fuck, but was that glazed look terrifying... 

 “Oh, shit. Are ya back? Ya really fuckin’ scared me there, dude, the fuck...? I was ‘bout ta take yer ass ta the nurse, consequences be damned. Shit, should I still do that...? Kiyotaka?” 

 The kid is just staring at him, his skin far too pale, his eyes moving back and forth over Mondo’s face as he seems to try to be figuring something out. They then widen somehow further and then-

 “Aw, shit! Fuck, man, what the hell!”

 Mondo stares wide eyed at the kid as he abruptly stands, his body shaking horribly, looking like he just saw a ghost, shit... Mondo is afraid the kid is about to collapse so he stands quickly, hands hovering to ensure he doesn’t fall, but the kid doesn’t seem to notice him. Oh... shit... he’s not better, is he? God fucking dammit...

 “W-w-w-what... w-what... h-h-happened?! I... I didn’t... oh god...” 

 Mondo sees Kiyotaka sway then, looking like he’s about to faint, scaring the absolute shit out of Mondo. Rushing forward, he grabs the kid by his shoulders, holding him upright. Part of him wants to pull him close, to wrap him up and never let him go, but he can tell the kid is super fucking freaked out, and he doesn’t want to make him panic, shit. 

 “What the fuck... aw, shit, y’ain’t better. Okay, that’s it. I’m takin’ ya ta the fuckin’ nurse. Goddamnit...” 

 Mondo tries to move Kiyotaka, then, carefully guiding him over to the door so they can make the stupidly long walk to the nurse’s office, mind racing a mile a minute as he tries to determine if it wouldn’t just be better to call the ambulance now. On one hand, he doubts the nurse is still there, since it’s well after curfew, but on the other... calling for an ambulance means he might have to explain this shit, and he just... shit. But he needs to do right by Kiyotaka, and if that includes getting himself in trouble, he’ll fucking do it. He doesn’t care what happens to him, just as long as this wonderful, incredible boy is safe. Huh...

 As distracted as Mondo is, he doesn’t expect any resistance to his movement, expecting Kiyotaka to be as pliant as he previously had been. As such, when the kid fucking pulls away from him, weak as it is, Mondo isn’t expecting it and thus is unable to keep his grip. And he watches, heart stopping, as the kid slams into the row of lockers, collapsing immediately to the ground with a soft noise of pain. 

 Shit!!!

 “Shit! Kiyotaka, are you fuckin’ alright?! What the hell, man?! Stop bein’ an idiot and let me take ya ta the nurse, fuck!” 

 He doesn’t mean to sound angry or anything, he’s just so fucking scared, needing the kid to cooperate so he can just get better already and not make Mondo worry he’s gonna fucking die or something... but given the way that Kiyotaka glares at him (or tries to glare, Mondo can tell he’s still a little out of it and can’t quite put the usual amount of passion into it), he can tell the kid intends to be difficult, looking at him like he doesn’t want Mondo to come any closer or something. Mondo immediately says, ‘fuck that,’ though, and rushes to the kid’s side, kneeling down, his eyes bleeding with his concern. He watches the kid blink, some more lucidity rising within the red, as he opens his mouth to speak. 

 “W-wait! I don’t... dang it. I don’t need to go to the- t-the nurse! I’m just... confused. Give me... give me a moment to... collect myself!” Kiyotaka says, his chest heaving with the effort of speaking. Mondo looks at him firmly, ensuring the kid means it and that he’s not just saying random, nonsense bullshit again. 

 Once he’s satisfied that the kid is, in fact, lucid enough to make that decision, he nods stiffly, still feeling so very, very concerned. 

 “Alright... shit, fine. If ya say so. But ya gotta drink some more water, alright?! Slowly. I should drink more too, fuck...”

 Mondo stands, then, and walks over to the water cooler again, hands tingling unpleasantly as he leaves Kiyotaka’s side. He quickly fills up two fresh cups of water and hurries back, handing the kid one of the cups as soon as he is by his side. 

 As soon as the kid takes it, Mondo flops down to sit beside him, so close they touch, and begins to drink his water, finding comfort in being able to feel the kid warm against his side. He is honestly thirsty as fuck, wanting to gulp it down again, but he forces himself to go slow, not wanting to be a hypocrite. He notices after a second that Kiyotaka isn’t drinking and is just staring at him blankly, eyes glazing over again, which scares him more than he is willing to say, fuck. 

 “Dude. Drink. Or I’m draggin’ ya ta the nurse, kickin’ an’ screamin’. Don’t think I won’t,” Mondo rumbles, startling the kid out of whatever fugue he’d entered into. The kid glares at him lightly, not nearly as strong as Mondo knows it could be, but at least he doesn’t try and counter him. He just brings the cup to his lips and drinks the cool water slowly, his eyes darting back and forth as he thinks hard about something. They don’t glaze over again, though, so Mondo lets him be and just drinks his water, every cell in his body so fucking aware of the kid sitting directly beside him. It honestly would scare him, how much he cares about this kid, if he’d not already decided to not care about that shit anymore. He cares about the kid. He doesn’t know why, he just does. End of fucking story. 

 Mondo doesn’t know how long they sit there drinking their water, and he doesn’t really care. He usually hates sitting still for so long, his skin crawling to get up and do something already, but strangely... he doesn’t really mind it too much. Sitting here, beside Kiyotaka. It... despite the worry he still feels, there’s also a strange calmness inside him now. Like... like something inside him that had been out of place and broken for years is just... gone, allowing him to breathe easy for the first time. It’s so strange but also... so very, very nice...

 Eventually their cups run empty, and Mondo is about to offer to get them both some more water again when the kid speaks. His voice is low and shaky, but it sounds a lot better and more lucid than it had before, which relieves the shit out of him. But then he comprehends the words, and he...

 “O-Owada... back in... in the, uh, sauna... I didn’t, um. Say anything strange. Did I?” Kiyotaka asks softly, looking very nervous. It concerns Mondo a lot that the kid apparently doesn’t remember what happened in the sauna, but he supposes it makes sense. He had been super fucking outta it... 

 He still takes his time to think about it. He usually just blurts out his words, no thought put into them at all, but this... shit. This matters. And he has to be so fucking careful if he doesn’t want to hurt the kid again. And god, does he not wanna do that... 

 Finally, he figures he’ll go the safe route and figure out what, exactly, the kid does and doesn’t remember. If he remembers nothing, then maybe... maybe it would be better to keep it that way, shit... 

 Ignoring the way his heart clenches at the thought, he sets his face into a carefully neutral expression, revealing nothing as he speaks, voice a low rumble. 

 “That depends. What do ya remember?”

 Mondo watches, heart clenched strangely again, as Kiyotaka bites his lip gently, eyes unfocused as he thinks. They’re not glazed, though, so Mondo thinks he’s just concentrating, not zoning out. After a few moments, the kid glances up at him, expression open and searching. It makes Mondo want to gasp, everything in him swirling, and when the kid speaks, still looking at him, he... h-he... 

 “I’m… I’m not sure. It’s all... fuzzy. I can’t quite tell... what is real or not. I have no idea what I said during that last part, though... just fragments of old memories and thoughts.” Kiyotaka pauses, his hands shaking lightly. He looks away then, down at the ground, and Mondo feels so strangely bereaved... “But I... I remember you... you said... things. About- a-about me. Y-you... you called me... wonderful. Special. H-heh! H-how r-ridiculous! I must... must have been- been hallucinating! Aha!” 

 The kid sounds nervous, frantic, like he’s afraid Mondo will hurt him, like he’s afraid Mondo will laugh at him, will tell him that he... he’s wrong, that Mondo hadn’t said that, that he... he doesn’t believe that...

 Which is bullshit. Because he did say that. And he’d meant it. Means it. Fully and completely. 

 Mondo consciously forces his shoulders to lose the tension that had entered them unbidden at Kiyotaka’s frantic words, sighing softly, a wry smile rising on his lips as he looks at the kid. The kid looks so fucking scared, so desperate, like he doesn’t believe that Mondo had said that shit, but that he wants to believe it. 

 And, shit... even if he hadn’t said it, he sure as shit would say it now. Because Kiyotaka truly is wonderful and special, ain’t he...? 

 Heh... 

 “Nah. That, uh. That happened. You really don’t remember what you said?” he asks as casually as he can, his head tilted in question, hoping he’s hiding the way his heart is racing well enough, but honestly not really caring if he’s not. He... he doesn’t want to keep shit from this kid. Not... not anymore... he watches as Kiyotaka shakes his head weakly, moving his eyes to stare at his hands again. It makes Mondo’s smile widen, eyes soft as silk. Heh. So... so fucking cute...

 “Heh. Makes sense. Ya weren’t exactly all there, ya know. Kept mumblin’ bits a’ nonsense. Could barely make sense a’ ya myself, tell the truth. Somethin’... somethin’ ‘bout yer grandfather. ‘Bout needin’ ta right his wrongs. An’ then there was somethin’ ‘bout other kids? An’ hatred? Ya mentioned how yer da don’t understand ya, how he hates ya, or somethin’. An’ ‘bout how... how ya... ya hate yerself. Which I think is fuckin’ bullshit, ya shouldn’t fuckin’ hate yerself, yer incredible, but whatever. There was a lot a’ other stuff too. ‘Bout not givin’ up, ‘bout havin’ ta prove people wrong. Some other shit, too, but I don’t really ‘member it all, sorry. But... shit man. Is that... is that real? Did ya... did ya really mean alla’ that?” 

 Mondo doesn’t really mean to ask the question, knowing the kid needs to be allowed to rest and relax, not be asked stupid fucking questions, but he can’t help it. He’s not lying when he says he doesn’t quite remember everything. It’s all starting to blur in his head, and while he’s fairly certain he remembers the most of it, some details are starting to slip away, and he just... did the kid really say all that shit, or had he imagined it, too? Shit...

 But then... then, after a moment, Kiyotaka, he... h-he...

 “Aw, shit,” he mutters under his breath, which seems to just make the kid cry harder. It breaks Mondo’s heart so much, hating seeing his tears. God... this kid just always fucking cries around him, doesn’t he...? Shit... shit! H-he didn’t want to make the kid cry! G-god, he... he wants so badly to hold the kid, to keep him safe from the sorrow within him, but would the kid even want that? After everything he’s done, all he’s taken from him, would he actually want to be held in his arms? It’s his fault he’s crying, his fault he’s in this situation, and he doesn’t know if Kiyotaka would want to be anywhere near him, let alone in his arms! But he... he wants so, so badly to... t-to...

 “Please, man, don’t cry, shit, I’m sorry! I... aw, fuck it. Come here.” 

 Mind made up, Mondo darts forward and— carefully as he possibly can— wraps an arm around the kid, pulling him gently to his chest, firm and tight. He can feel the kid struggle against him, and it kills him inside to feel it, especially when the kid starts frantically apologizing, like he thinks Mondo is going to hurt him or something. He thinks it might be best to let him go, to apologize and never touch him again, but he... h-he thinks the problem isn’t that Mondo is hugging him, but that the kid thinks Mondo is upset. So maybe... if he can reassure the kid that it’s okay, that he wants this, maybe... m-maybe he’ll stop struggling so hard... and maybe... m-maybe...

 “Shhh. Shh, c’mon. It’s okay, Kiyotaka. I’m here. Y’ain’t alone. I got you. Ain’t got nothin’ ta ‘pologize fer, ya got it? Yer okay. We’re both okay.” 

 He keeps his arms steady on Kiyotaka, praying to any god that will listen that he’s doing the right thing, that he’s not hurting the kid more, that this is okay, and then... after a minute... after a minute...

 The kid stops. Stops struggling, stops apologizing. His chest is heaving, and his eyes are still leaking tears, but he doesn’t seem distressed at Mondo holding him anymore. At least... Mondo hopes he isn’t. And then... t-then...

 Kiyotaka buries his head in his chest, firm and present, hiding his face. His arms come up too, fists curling into Mondo’s tank top, clutching it like his life depends on it. And then he... he just...

 Lets go.

 The kid is crying so fucking hard, chest heaving, sobs loud and noisy, and fuck, does it hurt. Mondo feels so fucking helpless as he holds the kid, doing all he can to rub soothing circles on his back, whisper soft words in his ear, doing all he can to remember the shit Daiya would say when he was little and he still allowed himself to cry, not yet realizing it was wrong of him to do such a thing. He feels like it’s not enough, never enough, but he doesn’t know what else to do. He’s never seen the kid cry so hard before. Before he- he would always stifle it, keep it in. 

 Mondo hadn’t realized it at the time, but seeing the kid truly let go now, he can see just how hard he would fight to keep his tears and true sorrow contained, and he feels so much for the boy that he can’t even begin to describe it. It’s like... a sad kind of pride. Like he’s proud the kid was able to keep going despite the sorrow and despair he clearly feels, but also so, so fucking sad that the kid had to do it. That he had to keep this all in, unable to have anyone to share his burden with, to shoulder the pain and anguish he so clearly feels inside. Mondo... M-Mondo knows what that is like, what it’s like to have to always keep everything in, never let it out, and he... he hates that Kiyotaka knows it, too. The pain.  The loneliness. 

 Maybe they really aren’t so different... are they? 

 Fuck... and who knows? Maybe that’s why he’s always cared so much about this kid. He... he just reminds him of him so goddamn much. Of... of the kid he used to be, before he built up walls so high around that child that he’d never see the light of day again. Of the scared little boy that he was, wondering why his parents hated him, why he was never good enough, why he didn’t fucking matter. He’d always been so scared and sad back then, so small and weak. Kinda like Kiyotaka is now, even with how fucking strong he knows this kid to usually be. 

 But...

 But he had Daiya, didn’t he? Even when the whole world was against him, (This sentence was removed due to ~~spoilers~~) he... he always had Daiya. Daiya, who loved him. Daiya, who cared for him. Daiya who raised him, Daiya who taught him, Daiya who sacrificed fucking everything for him. (This sentence was removed due to ~~spoilers~~). It didn’t matter that he was scared, or that he was weak. Daiya loved him regardless, and he always, always kept him safe. 

 Kiyotaka... Kiyotaka never had that... did he? He can’t say for sure, but the kid has never mentioned a sibling, either older or younger, which makes him think he’s an only, no sibs, bro or sis. Which means that he... he didn’t have anyone always on his side. Someone who would protect him no matter what. Or someone that he could protect, no matter what. His da is clearly not that great, if Kiyotaka’s words about him hating him were to go by, and his ma is gone, who knows for how long, or what his relationship was to her when she was around. He... he didn’t have someone to protect him... to keep him safe, from all harm... to... t-to love him...

 Eventually the kid stops crying so hard, the desperate sobs petering out into soft, quiet ones, his breath hitching only slightly every few seconds. And then, a little while later he... he stops sobbing entirely. The tears have run dry, his body has stopped shaking, but he... he doesn’t move away. He just stays there, in Mondo’s arms. 

 Like he belongs there... 

 “Ya feelin’ better?”

 The words are said softly. Gently. He doesn’t wanna spook the kid, knowing how fragile he prolly feels right about now. Mondo gets it. He hasn’t let himself cry fully in years, not even... h-heh. Well. Point is, while he’s not truly cried in years, he remembers how fragile it leaves you feeling afterward. How shaky. 

 And when he sees Kiyotaka’s eyes dart up, looking scared and afraid, Mondo doesn’t tense up. Doesn’t try and hide the openness on his face. He lets the kid see it. The softness. The care. The... the affection, because god, does he feel affection. He lets the kid see it, and he feels the kid settle against him, the fear vanishing, though the lingering sorrow remains. God... how Mondo wishes he could take that away...

 “Yes. I... yes. M-Mondo... t-thank you. I... I’m sorry...”

 Mondo can’t help the way he reaches out at that, hand gently grasping a warm, wet cheek. He realizes absently that that’s the first time the kid has said his name, and god is it making his insides squirm. And he can see the kid look at him with wide, watery eyes, lips open on a soft gasp, looking almost... dazed... shit...

 “Don’t. Thank me. Apologize. Ain’t nothin’, got it? I... I didn’t mind. At all. So, don’t... don’t apologize. It’s alright. You’re... you’re alright.” 

 And he means it. God... does he mean it. It... it had felt nice. So very, very nice. Holding Kiyotaka. Comforting him as he cried, somehow not fucking it up as badly as he’d been fearing. He’s always been so fucking shit at comforting people, feeling like he has to be tough all the time, unable to comfort since tough people aren’t soft and sympathetic. But here, with Kiyotaka... h-he’d been able to be soft. Kind. Gentle. All the things he’s secretly yearned to be for so fucking long, but never was able to, since he doesn’t lead a life that is suited for such things. He always has to be so tough, so strong, but... but with Kiyotaka... with this wondrous, amazing, incredible, beautiful boy...

 He can be soft. 

 And he will never be able to thank Kiyotaka enough for giving him that ability. 

 And when Kiyotaka smiles at him, wide, bright, unrestrained...? Mondo can’t help how he smiles back, wider than he’s ever felt it go before, heart beating so softly and yet meaningfully, feeling so very much for this precious boy. He... he’ll never be able to repay him for this... will he? For what he has given him this day... even if they are never this close again, even if Kiyotaka doesn’t want anything to do with him after this, he’ll never forget what this felt like. What it feels like to be soft. And gentle. And... and kind. 

 But... shit. Shit. 

 Now that they have this... now that he’s tasted this... what happens now? He... he doesn’t wanna... 

 “Shit, man. The fuck we do now? I... I don’t wanna go back ta how it was. I... shit. I was a goddamn monster ta ya these last few weeks... since we met, shit… I... goddamn it,” Mondo mutters, feeling his smile fade as pain fills him, remembering all the shit he has done to this poor, amazing kid. The shit he’s said. The way he’s acted. Kiyotaka gave him so much today, but he hadn’t earned any of it, had he...? He can see the kid shaking his head, looking frantic, like he doesn’t agree, and Mondo can’t help how he glares. Lightly, but it still makes the kid flinch back, proving how much he’s hurt him, and how much he can still, potentially, hurt him. God... he doesn’t wanna ever hurt him... not again… “No, don’t deny it. I was a fuckin’ moron. I just... I ain’t ever... I don’t get you, Kiyotaka. What I feel... when you- you look at me...” 

 And it’s true. He still doesn’t quite get it. What he feels. Why he feels it. It... he thinks he might kinda get it, might kinda realize what this feeling is, why he wants to protect this kid so badly, but it... it doesn’t quite feel like it fits. And he just... he just doesn’t know... but... if not this then... what else? H-heh... 

 Sighing softly, feeling so confused but strangely not angry about it, Mondo allows a wry smile to rise on his lips as he presses closer to the kid, as close as he’s always secretly longed to be, since that first day when he held him but not ever close enough. One of his hands is curled loosely around Kiyotaka’s waist, while his other is still gently cupping his cheek and has been for a little while now. He notices dimly how they are almost bare, Kiyotaka wearing only his underwear while Mondo is in his thin tank top and loose black pants, and he can feel the kid’s heat as it presses against him, oddly intoxicating. Mondo’s hair is down from its pomp, having been knocked loose sometime in the sauna, and it’s been years since someone outside his gang saw him without it up, it makes him feel so naked to have it down, but he... he doesn’t really care. Not when it’s only Kiyotaka who sees it. 

 He... he wants Kiyotaka to see all of him... every last part. 

 Because he... he views the kid like... like a... 

 “It’s like yer my brother or somethin’. Like... my nerdy, dorky little brother. Someone I gotta take care of. Protect. Keep safe, from all harm. I never... shit. I had my brother, but he... he’s gone now. I can’t... I couldn’t protect him, fuck. An’ I… f-fuck. I can’t protect you, either, can I...?  No, I… I can’t... I can’t... a-and why the fuck would you want a fuck-up like me, anyway? You... god, you could do so much better... why would you want someone like me as your brother, s-shit...” 

 The thought stabs Mondo through the heart, the realization that as much as he may want to have this with Kiyotaka, to have a brotherhood with him, they... they likely never will. Because Mondo has messed up too much. Because Mondo ruined their chance before it ever even had the opportunity to live. Because Mondo is so fucking broken and damaged that no one in their right mind would ever want him as a brother. Daiya was forced to have him, and he was so fucking amazing that he chose to love him anyway, but Kiyotaka... he doesn’t have to be stuck with him. He doesn’t owe Mondo anything, anything at all. In fact, Mondo is the one who owes Kiyotaka. So much. So very, very much. Kiyotaka wouldn’t want him. He just... he wouldn’t. 

 And as he feels the kid freeze against him, breath stuttering and harsh, he... he knows he’s right, isn’t he? S-shit... he shouldn’t have said that, shouldn’t have thought himself good enough to deserve such a gift. Kiyotaka, wanting him like that... wanting him at all... while he may have been soft and pliant in his arms a moment ago, seeming like he was at ease, that doesn’t mean it was because of Mondo or anything that Mondo did. He’d been through an emotional time and he’d needed comfort, and Mondo had just been the nearest warm body. Doesn’t mean he trusts Mondo or that he wants anything from him at all. He’d have to be the world’s biggest fool to think Kiyotaka could ever want him, want him at all. 

 And Mondo... he may be a fool, but he ain’t that big of a fool. 

 Heart aching painfully in his chest, Mondo can’t help how he pulls away, not wanting to force Kiyotaka to be near him when he doesn’t deserve it, doesn’t deserve it at all.

 “Shit, I was right, goddamn it, aw shit! J-just forget I said anything, I- fuck!” 

 Mondo hands come up to clutch at his hair, then, the grip tight and painful but he doesn’t care. He wants it to hurt. To ache. It’s what he deserves for fucking this whole thing up, for being so woefully unworthy of being close to such a bright and beautiful boy. Maybe, had he been better— a better person, a good person— he could have been worthy of it. Had he never let his insecurities get in the way, had he just accepted what he felt as true the minute he felt it, not pushed it away in fear, maybe... maybe then, he could have had this. Kiyotaka, as his friend. Kiyotaka, as his brother. 

 But no. No, no. He had pushed it away. Had been afraid of it, so very afraid. Had let his fear turn to anger, like he was so wont to do, and ruined everything before it even began. 

 He deserves all the misery he feels for how stupid he’d been... 

 Mondo gets jolted out of his thoughts when he feels a soft, tentative hand touch him, his eyes wide and manic as he looks at Kiyotaka, who looks so fucking afraid, god. H-he scares the kid so goddamn much, like he scares everyone, because he’s a monster, a senseless beast that only ever hurts people. Breaks people. He’s not allowed nice things, not allowed good things. Not allowed to be gentle, or soft, or kind. He... he’s just not... 

 To his utter shock, he can see Kiyotaka smile at him. It’s soft, and hesitant, and... and beautiful... but it can’t be real. It... the kid is trying to be kind, trying to hide his fear to make Mondo feel better, because he’s so goddamn nice, so fucking good, shit- 

 “N-no! Don’t worry! I was just- not expecting that! But I- I feel- the same. I feel- the same! I would be honored, Mondo Owada, to be considered your brother! I’ve never had a brother, never even had a friend, but I couldn’t imagine a better one than you! Y-you... you’re incredible...” 

 He... he... does he really mean that...? Does he truly... truly wanna be Mondo’s... Mondo’s brother? The kid is so bad at lying, and it hadn’t sounded like he was lying, but... but it... shit. It can’t be true, it can’t... after all the shit Mondo has done, how could the kid ever see him positively, even a little? Mondo isn’t a good brother, he’d always been so shit to Daiya, taking and taking and taking and never giving. He’d taken everything from Daiya, never satisfied with what Daiya gave freely, so he stole the most important thing in the end. 

 H-he’d just steal everything from Kiyotaka too. 

 It’s what he does... 

 “Ya can’t mean that, Kiyotaka... I’m a goddamn mess... and you... you are... shit. You’re goddamn perfect and I’m hot dog shit, ya can’t... y-you can’t...”

 And it’s true. Mondo has more to say, more to confess, but his throat is so thick, and he doesn’t know how to say it. To confess all his crimes to Kiyotaka, to let him know how unworthy he is. He- he hears Kiyotaka take a deep breath, and he doesn’t wanna hear what the kid has to say, doesn’t wanna hear him agree, but then he’s speaking, and his words... t-they... 

 “Mondo... I- I’m not perfect. I... I’m not. B-but that’s okay! I do my best, but so do you! I can see how hard you try and sometimes that’s all that matters! You’re not... dog feces! You... you’re so much more, Mondo...” 

 No... n-no, the kid, he... he doesn’t understand, he just- he doesn’t understand! Mondo, he has to... has to tell him. N-not all of it, he’s not strong enough to confess it all, he’s always been so goddamn weak, but he- he has to... a little. Enough so the kid knows. So he stops feeling pity for him and realizes that he... 

 He’s just not worth it... 

 “No. N-no, I ain’t shit, goddamnit, I...” Mondo has to stop, feeling so fucking conflicted. On one hand he wants to confess, on the other hand he wants to be selfish, and he just... h-he just... 

 But he can’t. Be selfish. Not... not about this. 

 Not with Kiyotaka. 

 With a soft sigh, he feels the tension inside him melt away, his body relaxing with the decision he’s made. All of his emotions— both good and bad— fade away until all he feels inside is... is...

 Cold resignation...

 “I hate myself. Always fuckin’ have. Heh. There, I... I fuckin’ said it. I love the gang, don’t get me wrong. I love bein’ with ‘em, bein’ a part a’ somethin’ bigger than myself. I love leadin’ ‘em, ridin’ my hog, wind in my hair... I fuckin’ love it. Even bein’ here, unable ta lead directly, I still like callin’ the shots from behind the scenes while my second in command implements it an’ shit. Means somethin’, ‘least. But... I dunno. Sometimes I’ll be in the middle ofa fight and I’ll just... wanna stop. Quit. Do somethin’... do somethin’ else fer a change. But I… heh. I can’t. I promised my bro... Daiya, I... I promised him I’d keep the gang together. He built it from scratch an’ I... I can’t leave that. I made a promise, a man’s promise, ta keep us together. So, I... I gotta keep doin’ that. Can’t stop. Ever. Not ‘til the gang is dead an’ shit, all the members movin’ on ta do better shit with their lives. An’ me… heh. Not much use fer me after that, is there?”

 Mondo pauses, and then looks down at his hands, a small, sad smile on his face. 

 “But you? Yer gonna go places, man. Shootin’ fer the moon. Prime fuckin’ Minister, shit, man. Never met anyone with such high goals, really. Never met anyone who wanted ta do that sorta shit, change things from the inside. Heard ya in class, talkin’ ‘bout yer plans an’ shit. Wantin’ ta make the world a better place, havin’ such hope for this garbage planet. Ya... ya’ve got drive. Determination. An’ I know yer gonna do it, ya know. Succeed. More than any a’ the other chucklefucks we go ta school with, ‘least. Yer just so... determined. Got such passion. I... I admire that ‘bout ya, always did.”

 Mondo pauses again, and he… he laughs. It’s sad, and pathetic, and it... he... h-heh...

 “But that… heh. That ain’t me, Kiyo. Ain’t me. I ain’t got plans, ain’t got any fuckin’ clue a’ what I’m gonna do after school ends. They got me takin’ fuckin’ leadership classes an’ shit, but the fuck am I gonna do with that bullshit? I can lead a gang, yeah, but that… heh. That’s ‘bout it, Christ. An’ ya… yer gonna see that one day. And yer gonna leave me. And I’ll be happy fer ya, ‘course I will, but... sh-shit. God... goddamnit...” 

 Mondo doesn’t know where he’s going with this. He doesn’t know what he’s saying or why he’s saying it. His head is so jumbled, so scrambled, and part of him wants to tell Kiyotaka everything. About his parents. About his brother. About what he did, what he stole. He wants to confess so, so badly, to see the hatred and anger and rage on that kid’s face when he realizes how big a piece of shit Mondo really is, horrified that he’d ever felt pity for such a pitiless creature. 

 But...

 He can’t. Can’t do that. He... he can’t burden Kiyotaka with his bullshit. And knowing the kid... he’d still try. To feel pity. To feel sorrow. He- he’s such a good person, so bright and shining. He’s the kind of person who would see a merciless and dangerous monster like him and think there’s something worthwhile in it. It wouldn’t be until his neck is snapped under Mondo’s uncaring hand that he’d realize he was wrong. And maybe... maybe not even then. He’d die, thinking Mondo was better than he was, even if it were Mondo who killed him. 

 God...

 So, he can’t tell the truth. Can’t burden the kid like that. But he... he can’t let him get close. Even if he... he really wants to... 

 “I’ll just hold ya back. Ya don’t want someone like me, Kiyo. Ya don’t want someone like me at all. So... I ‘ppreciate yer words. But it may be best ta leave this here. Ta... ta forget ‘bout this all and just... move on. I’ll leave ya alone and ya won’t hafta-”

 “No!” Mondo hears echo through the room, cutting off his words so thoroughly. It startles the fuck out of him, and he can’t help how he stares, wide-eyed, up at Kiyotaka. It’s weird, looking up to see the kid, but he’s sitting upright, almost standing but not quite, knees firmly planted on the floor. But seeing as how Mondo is crumbled pathetically on the floor, sitting back on his thighs, he has to look up to see Kiyotaka. And he looks... looks so...

 Scared...

 But...

 Not... not of- of... of Mondo...? 

 “Mondo, please! I just... look. I- I try to be perfect, but I... I’m not! And I know you aren’t either! But... but maybe that’s okay! Maybe... m-maybe... maybe we can learn to be not perfect... together? I, ah. I don’t know! A-all I know is... I want to be f-friends with you, Mondo Owada. I don’t care about your flaws; I don’t care that you’re in a gang! I just... I want... w-we can be brothers. If you want... we can be brothers. I want... I would want nothing more than to be your brother! Your kyoudai!” 

 Brothers. Brothers. Kiyotaka wants them to be... brothers...

 It’s too good to be true. Too fucking good to be true. Mondo doesn’t get nice things like this. He doesn’t get soft, kind, gentle things. He gets shit. He gets cruelty. He gets anger and hatred and rage. He gets angry fists and cruel words, and a suspicious look on his back at all fucking times. After all the shit he has done, the people he has hurt, the lives he has ruined, he... he doesn’t deserve... he just doesn’t... 

 But as he sits there, staring up at Kiyotaka with wide eyes and an open mouth, he... he remembers something. Something the kid had said, in the sauna. How he... he never had a friend before. How everyone always hated him. And it could have just been insecurity talking, the kid thinking people hated him when they really didn’t but judging by the scars, he... he would doubt that. 

 He’s never had a friend. He’s never had a brother. Someone to keep him safe. To protect him from all harm. Someone to hold onto, someone to tell him it is alright. That he is alright. He... he hasn’t had that. 

 And Mondo is the worst choice for a brother. He knows it, okay? He’s so fucking awful it’s not funny. But... but he... the kid doesn’t seem to get that. And Mondo is too weak to explain why he shouldn’t want it. And, as such, he... Kiyotaka wants to be friends. Brothers. With him. 

 Mondo is a mess. He messes everything up, ruining everything he touches. He... he doesn’t want to ruin Kiyotaka too. He doesn’t want to hurt him. He... he never...

 But maybe...

 Maybe...

 It’s stupid. God, so fucking stupid. But maybe... if he tries hard, so fucking hard... if he is careful, keeps his anger in check, does all he can, he... maybe he...

 He can be Kiyotaka’s brother...

 And keep him safe...

 It makes him smile. It’s small at first, tentative. Like a stiff wind will blow it away. But as Kiyotaka keeps looking at him steadily, earnestly, he... he feels the smiles strengthen. Feels as it grows wider and wider, until it fills his whole face, his eyes squinting with how wide it is. He’s never felt like this before, so scared and terrified, but also... also... 

 Hopeful.

 “Ya... ya really mean that, Kiyo?” 

 Kiyo. Mondo doesn’t really know why he’s calling the kid that, nicknames aren’t super common in their culture, but somehow, he... he kinda likes it. He doesn’t know if the kid does, he should ask, but before he has the chance to, the kid is nodding. Enthusiastic and bright, a shaky grin on his face. He still seems a little out of it, but god, is he trying... fuck that kid is so amazing...

 “Yes! Of course! I always mean everything I say! I would not lie to you, Mondo, I promise you that! We shall be the best kyoudai! You’ll see! Aha! This is fantastic!”

 Oh, god... this kid is so fucking cute! God... h-he really shouldn’t be thinking that, should push it away like he always pushes stupid ass thoughts like that away, but he... he’s allowed to see his brother as cute... right? Or, well... his little brother. Though... fuck. Is Kiyotaka younger than him? He seems like it, as naive and endlessly optimistic as he is, but fuck, he doesn’t actually know. Mondo is usually one of the youngest in his class, since his birthday is at the end of the year, but he’s always felt decades older than the chucklefucks he goes to school with. Maybe it’s ‘cuz he was forced to grow up so fucking fast in order to survive, shit. 

 But you know what? Whatever. It doesn’t matter if Mondo is older or not. He’s the older brother regardless. That shit is felt, not necessarily determined by birth order. Daiya was his older brother in more ways than just because he was physically older, after all.  

 At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter. What does matter is that... that Kiyotaka wants this. Wants... wants Mondo. And Mondo doesn’t deserve it, had never deserved it, but fuck, is he a selfish bastard. But he won’t take this shit for granted. Now that they are brothers, Mondo will go all fucking out. No fucking reservations. They are brothers, now, and Mondo is the big brother. The ani. It’s his duty and obligation to keep Kiyotaka safe from all harm, including (and especially) from Mondo himself. And he won’t. Hurt him. Not now, not ever. If he ever does, he will stab himself in the gut, commit fucking seppuku, he swears he will. He’d rather die than hurt this precious, amazing, incredible boy ever, ever again. 

 And so, Mondo grins, and he laughs, and he lets his arms reach forward and wrap around the kid, like he’s been wanting to do since he ripped himself away the last time. Part of him is afraid the kid won’t want it, or he’ll realize how stupid this whole thing is, but Kiyotaka doesn’t even tense at all as he goes willingly into Mondo’s arms, melting like warm putty against him. Like he... he belongs there...

 S-shit... 

 “Okay. O-okay. Kiyotaka, I... I’ll do my best. I can’t promise ya anythin’, know I’m a goddamn fuck-up who ruins everything, but... but for you? I’ll try. That... that’s all I can offer... heh…” 

 It’s not enough, not nearly enough, but he feels Kiyotaka wrap his arms around him, holding on so very, very tight, and it... it feels...

 Like coming home... 

 “That is all I could ever ask of you, my kyoudai! Y-you’re not a- a screw up! And- and your best is more than enough!”

 Shit. Shit. No one... no one has ever told him that before. That the best he offers is more than enough. It’s never been enough, he’s never been enough. He’s a screw up. The unwanted kid. The person who is good for violence and anger and rage, and that’s about it. 

 But here, being held by this remarkable fucking kid... hearing him say that it’s enough... that he’s enough…

 Maybe he’s inclined to believe him. 

 Wow... just...

 Wow...

 After a minute Mondo pulls back, knowing they need to talk about stuff, knowing he has to make promises, and it makes his heart sing when he feels the kid resist, arms refusing to let go at first. It makes him laugh softly, especially because he fully understands. But he doesn’t intend to go far. Just... he needs to look the kid in the eyes. He... he needs to see those beautiful as sin eyes...

 Pressing his forehead to Kiyotaka’s, soft and gentle and intimate, he can’t help how he smiles, eyes shining with the light he feels inside. And Kiyotaka... he...

 He looks at Mondo like he fucking matters... 

 “I’ll be good. Fer ya... I’ll be good. Promise, Kiyo. And ya can hold me ta that, got it? This is a promise between men. That means I gotta keep it.” 

 The kid looks stunned, eyes glazed but not in a bad way, breath hitched, and it... it makes Mondo feel...

 “Likewise! I- I will do everything I can to be the best brother I can be! I promise! We shall be the best kyoudai in the world! That’s a Kiyotaka Ishimaru guarantee!” 

 The enthusiastic words make Mondo laugh again, and he pulls away to wrap an arm around the kid’s shoulders, ruffling his hair gently like Daiya would always do to him. He notices that the hair is a bit longer than it once had been, and fuck, does he like it. The sweat from the sauna had made all the gel run out and his hair is now soft as it dries, curling lightly around the kid’s ears and it just...

 It’s so beautiful... 

 But ruffling the kid’s hair makes it fall in his eyes, which makes the kid let out an annoyed sound, adorable again, and Mondo can’t help the way he laughs. God, this kid makes him so goddamn happy... he’s never felt this happy before... never...

 “Yer the absolute, goddamn best, kyoudai. Kiyo. Hey, uh... is it okay if I call ya that? Kiyotaka’s just a bit of a mouthful, ‘sall. Ya got any other nicknames I could use?” 

 He looks at the kid at that, Kiyotaka’s (or should he say Kiyo? Does the kid like it? Shit...) mouth pulled down in a thoughtful frown. A moment passes, and then- 

 “A-ah! Kiyo is fine! If you’d like! B-but... well... m-my mother. She called me... Taka. Y-you could use that, as well! If you’d like...” 

 Taka, huh? Taka. Taka. Yeah... yeah, he- he likes it. He likes it a lot! It suits the kid, and while Mondo still does kinda like Kiyo, he might like Taka a bit better. And if the kid wants him to call him that, then shit... who is he to deny him...?

 Smiling, soft and gentle in a way he’s never been able to be before, he nods. 

 “Taka... heh, I like it! Alright, Taka. Mondo ain’t exactly got any good nicknames fer it, but ya can call me that, if ya’d like.”

 Mondo watches as Taka blushes lightly, lips still partially open as he breathes in and out slowly. His eyes are kinda glazed still, but he seems present enough. Just... like he’s thinking of something. Mondo wants to reach out, wants to pull the kid into a hug again, wants to always, always be touching him, but he keeps his distance. Just... just for now. But later... 

 The kid shoots up again, interrupting Mondo’s thoughts, looking so enthusiastic again, eyes bright and smile happy. Holy shit...

 “Oh! I can always call you kyoudai!! That way the whole world will know our manly bond!” 

 It makes Mondo laugh again, harder, and he can’t help how he reaches out to ruffle his hair again, needing to touch him at least a little. Kyoudai, huh? ... yeah. Yeah, he likes that, too. Daiya was always ani to him, the proper name for the big brother, and Daiya usually called him shit like ‘kid’ or whatever, so it’s not like Taka calling him that will bring up any bad memories or shit. It’s just... something for them. Their own, little thing, for them and no one else. 

 Him and Taka. Taka and him. Two... two kyoudai...

 Incredible... 

 “Alright, Taka. If ya’d like. Now, it’s fuckin’ late. I ain’t even gotta look at a clock ta know that. Come on, kyoudai. Let’s get ya ta bed.” 

 Mondo stands, then, realizing how fucking late it is. The kid always gets up stupidly early, he remembers Taka saying that once a little while ago, so he knows they should be heading to bed soon. He feels strangely reluctant to do that, never wanting to part from this beautiful boy, but- but he’s the big brother. He has to keep his little brother safe and healthy, and that includes ensuring he gets a good night’s sleep. Even if it means they have to part ways...

 As Mondo stretches, he sees Taka stand as well, his body flushing bright red as he looks down at himself and seems to notice his state of undress. Like he’d forgotten or something. Mondo hadn’t. Not... not for a single second. Shit... 

 He feels his eyes dart down to the kid’s chest, unbidden, and he feels the small smile die on his lips as he sees the long, jagged looking scar that goes from Taka’s collarbone to the bottom of his sternum, right over his heart. How... how the fuck did he get a scar like that...? It doesn’t look like one that would come from surgery or something, since it’s too jagged, and it also doesn’t look accidental. But... but how the fuck... 

 “How’d ya get that? The... the scar?” Mondo finds himself asking softly before he can stop himself, his hand rising absently to trace the length of it. Fuck, but it feels as jagged as it looks... angry and painful. H-he hopes it doesn’t hurt anymore... 

 “A-ah... that...” Taka mutters, his body flushing. It jolts Mondo out of the fucking fugue he entered, and he removes his hand quickly, feeling embarrassed. S-shit... he shouldn’t have asked that, it ain’t his fucking business. Yeah, they’re kyoudai, but that... that don’t mean he’s earned the right to hear the kid’s dark history. He still has to earn that shit. He knows that.

 “Aw, shit! Taka, ignore me. Y’ain’t gotta talk ‘bout that shit. Uh, shi-shoot, I mean... stuff? Sorry… heh, know ya hate swearin’ an’ sh- stuff. Heh…” 

 Taka blinks at Mondo’s rambling words, which makes him feel strangely nervous. He doesn’t let it take over him, though. Doesn’t let himself get angry. But strangely... the anger he usually feels when embarrassed or nervous just... never showed up in the first place. Huh... 

 He watches, then, heart clenching, as Taka smiles at him, soft and gentle as ever. F-fuck...

 “I... I don’t mind! It’s not exactly a pleasant story, but I trust you, kyoudai! And... I don’t mind you cursing! Much! It... it’s what makes you, you! Just as long as you don’t do it in class or in the halls!”

 He... doesn’t mind him... cursing...???? After all those warnings, all of those detention slips, he truly expects Mondo to believe he doesn’t mind it when Mondo fucking curses? 

 But... huh. He can’t detect a lie in the kid’s words. He looks as earnest as ever, and it just... god. Mondo can’t begin to describe how he feels right now, just that it feels... soft. 

 Taka... Taka makes him feel soft. And fuck, is it not bad... not bad at all... 

 Unsure of what to say, what to do, Mondo just laughs again, since that’s the only thing that even slightly manages to express the softness that he feels inside, and he smiles at the kid gently while nodding. He should feel stupid, ridiculous, but he just... doesn’t. 

 God... 

 He watches then as Taka walks over to the locker he’d used earlier, seeming to want to no longer be partially nude. Mondo doesn’t mind it, has never minded being around naked dudes, but he guesses not everyone can be like that. As the kid dresses, he starts to talk. And the story he tells... 

 “It was one of my middle school bullies. I, er... wasn’t well liked, as a child! They never liked how I would get them in trouble, not to mention... ah. M-my, well. My grandfather,” Taka mutters, voice turning nervous as he talks about his grandfather, glancing at him anxiously. 

 Mondo still isn’t entirely sure what the kid’s deal with his grandfather is, but he can tell it bothers the kid, shit, so he does his best to not look at all judgmental, even though the fact the kid was fucking bullied makes his blood fucking boil... shit. He’d expected it, honestly, but it still fucking angers the fuck out of him, Christ…

 Luckily, it seems his anger at that isn’t too obvious, since the kid continues then, voice less shaky and upset, even though the shit he says... 

 “One day, one of them was... particularly angry. I’d gotten him suspended, you see, for a week. It was his own fault, he was the one who had scratched profanities into the headmaster’s car, I’d just been the one to report it! Still, he was... angry. So, after school, he had his friends hold me down while he cut this into my chest. A reminder, he said, to mind my own business. I think he was going to do more but was interrupted by something. It was most unpleasant!” 

 Holy. Fucking. Shit.

 Holy shit, holy shit!

 What the goddamn shit?!

 Some goddamn motherfucker... carved that shit into Taka’s chest...?! And how the fuck can Taka sound so casual about it?! Mondo has never felt so much rage directed towards someone he’s never met, but holy fucking shit, that goddamn bastard had better hope Mondo never meets him, or else he is fucking dead. The thought that anyone could ever hurt this wonderful boy in such a way is just so... insane to Mondo. How people can see him and not want to keep him safe from all harm is just... he doesn’t get it. Even when he told himself he hated the kid, he couldn’t bear the thought of actually hurting him. Not really. 

 And Taka he... he looks so fucking sad, right now. But also, just... resigned. Like he expects that treatment and, while it sucks, it’s just... life. Which is so much fucking bullshit, holy fucking shit-

 Mondo unintentionally lets out a strangled noise, his anger and rage choking him inside. He sees the kid look up at him and sees panic rise in his face when he sees the anger Mondo so clearly feels. Oh, shit... shit, he’s not mad at Taka, he’s not at all, but he can’t make the anger go away, because... because... 

 “They fuckin’ what?! What the goddamn shit?! Please tell me ya got those fuckers expelled!” 

 He had to have... right? Taka is so gung-ho about rules and shit, he- he must have told on those fuckers and got all of them expelled... r-right? 

 Wrong...

 “A-ah! N-not exactly! I... I never reported them! I rarely ever did, to tell the truth... it wouldn’t have mattered, see! The teachers didn’t like me much either; they only ever believed me if I had proof, and even then, only half the time! And they never much cared when I got hurt... b-but it was okay! I persisted and never let them break me down! My struggles made me stronger! Aha!” 

 W... what? He... he... oh, oh god... n-no... 

 “Y-you... what?” Mondo whispers, his eyebrows furrowed, his hands shaking. He has never felt so horrified before, a terrifying realization overcoming him. Because he... he was right, wasn’t he? This kid... h-he was abused. Horribly so. 

 By literally fucking everyone, holy fucking shit-!

 “I mean... that’s just... how it was? I handled it, though! I never gave up! They... they did not break me!” 

 Oh. Oh. Oh, this... this poor fucking kid... his poor fucking kyoudai, having to go through that nightmare, actually believing that it was just... normal. Just... how it was. But he... he can’t actually... actually believe he deserved it... r-right...?

 “Goddamnit... that’s why ya keep tellin’ me ta... ta punish ya, ain’t it? Taka, please tell me ya don’t actu’ly think ya deserved that shit?” 

 He can’t. He can’t. Please, god, he... he can’t...

 Mondo watches, heart breaking so thoroughly inside his chest, as Taka looks down at his uniform jacket, the only piece of his get up he’s not yet wearing. He’s frowning gently, like he actually has to fucking think about it, oh god, no...

 “I- I... I suppose so... I mean-! I... I don’t know. They all hated me... s-so... they must have had a good reason... r-right? To... to hate me. I... I must have deserved it... right?” 

 No. No. No. Mondo... he can’t fucking handle this shit. So many things make so much sense now, and he has never hated himself more. For not seeing it sooner. For not allowing himself to care about this boy all along. For maybe even reenforcing this goddamn bullshit, making the kid think he is right, when he sure as shit ain’t. He...

 He can’t help how he moves. Swift and quick. He- he just needs to be near the kid, needs to hold him, reassure him that no, he didn’t. Didn’t at all. He needs to do what he should have done weeks ago, in the laundry room, and reassure that kid that no. He doesn’t deserve to be hurt. Not... not ever... 

 He stops, though, when he sees Taka look up at him, terror in his eyes, like he... he thinks Mondo is going to fucking hurt him. He wants to go forward, wants to hold the kid so fucking bad, but he doesn’t have that fucking right, so he stays where he is, all the sorrow he feels surely reflected in his eyes. And as the kid looks at him, he... he relaxes. He still looks upset, but he doesn’t look scared. That... that’s something...

 Right? 

 “No. Fuckin’ no. Y’ain’t deserved any a’ that shit, goddamn, man… and I promise ya, Taka, I’m gonna make sure ya see that one day, even if it takes the rest a’ my goddamn life. And that’s a man’s promise.” 

 And he means it, fuck does he mean it. He had never meant anything more. He will spend the rest of his goddamn life ensuring that this wonderful kid knows how special and amazing he is, and that he never, ever deserves to be hurt. It’s his life’s fucking goal now, the one thing that fucking matters. He will take care of Taka for the rest of his goddamn life, even after the kid finally wises up and leaves his ass. He will watch from the shadows, keeping a careful eye on him, there to keep him safe from all harm. This kid will never know pain again if it’s the last fucking thing Mondo does. He swears. 

 As the kid looks at him, he sees the softest and most beautiful smile he’s ever seen lighting up the boy’s face. His eyes sparkle with it, and he’s looking at Mondo like he’s important again. Like he... like he matters. And Mondo...

 He won’t ruin this shit. He just... he won’t. 

 This matters too goddamn much for him to let it slip away. 

 “T-thank you... thank you, kyoudai. I... thank you.” 

 Mondo smiles gently at the kid, moving forward to tentatively wrap an arm around his shoulder, squeezing gently, needing to touch him but not wanting to overwhelm him, god. 

 “Ain’t gotta thank me, bro. Now, we really should head ta bed. Got school tomorrow an’ I don’t want my bro ta be tired! Come on, kyoudai. Let’s get goin’.” 

 Taka nods quick and puts his jacket on, buttoning it with practiced fingers. The kid turns back to the locker, frowning gently at whatever he sees inside. Mondo watches as the kid reaches out and grabs it, his breath hitching when he sees the kid is holding the glasses case that started this whole fucking mess. He... he honestly had forgotten about that shit, to tell the truth, with all the drama that just occurred. But as he looks at the kid, who is looking so softly at the glasses case, like they’re precious to him, he... he knows he owes the kid for the shit he put him through earlier, for no fucking reason. He can’t quite find it in him to regret what happened, not when it ended up like this, but he... he has to make it up to the kid. All of it. 

 So, quick as a wink, Mondo darts his hand out and carefully takes the case from Taka, ignoring the startled sound the kid makes. He can feel the kid watching him with wide eyes, but he doesn’t let it stop him as he opens the case and— without a single moment’s pause— puts the glasses on his face, blinking at the foreign feel. It... it hasn’t changed his vision much, since this shit is only supposed to help with close up shit, but it... huh. He guesses it ain’t so bad... 

 “Huh... I guess they ain’t that bad... tell me, kyoudai. How do they look?”

 He hadn’t really meant to ask the question, but he just... couldn’t help but remember the shit he’d done the last time he’d worn the glasses and Taka had told him what he thought. He... maybe he wants to show that it’s different, now. That he won’t get angry, not this time. To prove that he will never hurt Taka, never again. Not... not ever again. 

 He watches as the kid flushes bright red, mouth open slightly again, and- and god, is it an attractive look on him... s-shit... and then the kid is smiling shakily, giving a shaky thumbs up, and that’s even... even worse... or better, heh... 

 “You look amazing, kyoudai! They suit you well!” 

 A-amazing, huh? Shit... no one’s ever said he looks amazing before... he’s had a couple of people call him hot, or even sexy once or twice, but never... never amazing...

 He adores it... adores... Taka... 

 It makes him smile again. Soft. Happy. So goddamn happy... he will never be able to repay Taka for the happiness he gives him... not even if he dedicates the rest of his life to trying. Which he will. He... he will...

 But it’s late. So fucking late. They... they need to get to bed...

 Even if Mondo never wants to part from this amazing kid...

 “Ah, cool. I guess. Now, c’mon! Bed! Ain’t gonna be the reason ya can’t focus in class tomorrow, ya nerd!”

 With that, Mondo turns to grab his duster off the bench he’d tossed it on earlier, shrugging it on carefully, before finally exiting the bathhouse, Taka on his heels. 

 Shit...

[amor-immortalem]

Everything Undesired Epilogue

chapter 12

It’s been fifteen years to the day since Cyrus disappeared without a trace. He and Arella had long since graduated from RAD alongside his brothers. They had gotten married and have three children together now. Mammon remembers back to when they told Cyrus he would be a big brother- how excited he had been to not be the only child in a house full of adults. Now his son would never have that experience and it was all Mammon’s fault so it’s here in the room he and Arella had saved for Cyrus that he sits.

Surrounded by everything that reminds him of the child he’d lost, the Avatar of Greed flips through a photo album that Levi had made in honor of the little one, eyes wet with fresh tears. This room stays locked for the entire year except for today. The twins know they’re not allowed in here, even if they don’t exactly know why and his youngest is too young to even care about the door that’s always locked. They never told their children about their older brother- it was far too painful for both him and Arella, neither of them having accepted that their son was really gone forever.

In the aftermath of losing his heir, Mammon had become extremely over-protective of the twins and Mahlon. He would never allow this to happen again- he might actually die from a broken heart if he were to lose another child due to his carelessness.

“I wish I knew where ya were...” his voice catches in his throat. “I know you’re alive- that you’re out there... somewhere... I can feel it.”

And that was the sad truth of it all. As the years went on, he’d watched carefully over his only daughter, Azalea. If Cyrus was truly gone, it would be her that would inherit his title and throne. But she never developed all the abilities necessary to be Mammon’s successor. With every year that passed without the development of those powers, the demon only became more certain that his oldest was still alive.

For as overjoyed as he would be for Cyrus to return, he knew it would only cause friction in their little family. Azalea had gone her entire life thinking she was meant to be her father’s successor. She always took pride in it and Mammon now feared that the revelation that she was never meant to be would destroy his daughter’s world. Another thing that was his fault. She had assumed all this because he and Arella couldn’t find a way to break it to her.

Things were already tense between them after the birth of her youngest brother. She had pulled away from them in fear that she was being replaced and they didn’t want to lose her completely now. Azalea was considered a trouble maker to anyone who didn’t know the real her, often getting herself into more fights than anyone could count. If they told their daughter the truth now, she would think they were taking the position away from her and giving it to one of her brothers as punishment. Mammon and Arella were still trying to convince her that she wasn’t being replaced- that they still loved her regardless of all the trouble she gets into on a regular basis but it hadn’t been working.

And it was now, Mammon realized all the mistakes he’d made in not biting the bullet in talking about Cyrus. The white-haired demon resolves to tell them today when they come home for dinner as they did every Friday night since they’d moved into the House of Lamentation after they had gone off to RAD. He wondered how they would take the news. Would it be shock? Anger? It had to be now or never.

As the front door opened, Mammon perked up. He could hear the twins whispering amongst themselves, neither wanting to risk waking their little brother and then there was a soft gasp from the both of them.

“Zay, the door to that room’s open,” it’s Aurelius’ voice that sounds first.

“Mum and Dad don’t want us seein’ what’s in there so we should prolly jus’ avoid it. There’s a reason it’s always locked...”

He was about to call them into the room when his D.D.D. rang. It was a call from Lucifer so he answered.

“You need to come to the House of Lamentation as soon as you can.” and then the call cut off- not even a good bye which only served to worry the Avatar of Greed.

Mammon’s first fear was that something had happened to his wife on her return trip from the mortal world. He hoped it wasn’t that. As he got up, he left the door to Cyrus’ room open.

“Hey, I have to go to the House of Lamentation really quick, can ya stay with your brother, please?” The demon knows he should have waited for a response from the teenagers but this was an emergency in his mind. He needed to be quick.

Azalea and Aurelius only exchanged a confused look before Azalea called after their father. “Wait, I wanna go too!” And off she ran after him.

------------------------------------------------------

“Damn, at least slow down, Old Man!” She shouts although she doubted he could actually hear her with the wind in his ears. Azalea was having a hell of a time keeping up with Mammon as she hopped from roof top to roof top, having to transform into her demon form to even have a chance at keeping up with her father. She really wishes she was born with wings as like her twin.

As the pair reached the doors of the House of Lamentation, Azalea tries to catch her breath and as Mammon pushes open the doors open, their breaths catch in the throats at the sight before them. There, sitting on the floor having Arella using healing magic to tend to the nasty cut on his cheek, was Cyrus.

The Avatar of Greed rushes forward quickly, a million thoughts racing through his mind as he embraced his son in a tight hug. He doesn’t even know where to start with his words, he was so relieved to see Cyrus safe and mostly unharmed as he pulled back to inspect him.

He’s mostly unchanged but his white hair had grown out a considerable length, tipped with black indicating that it had been dyed at some point and as expected he had grown- nearly as tall as his father now.

“What happened to you?” Mammon’s voice is soft, “Do ya know how worried we were? Where did you go?”

Cyrus couldn’t answer. Instead, he just wrapped his parents in a tight hug as he cried and cried. He just buried his face in their shoulders as they rubbed his back.

“Shhhh, it’s okay, Baby.” Arella said as she held back tears. “It’s okay. You’re home now. You’re safe now.”

Azalea just stood in the doorway as she watched her parents. She didn’t know what to think. It felt like her whole world was crashing down around her. Who was this person her parents were fussing over? When it finally clicked in her mind that she had an older brother- that she wasn’t her father’s heir- she sank to her knees. Great, she thought, yet another person to compete against for Mum and Dad’s love.

“Azalea?” Lucifer's voice called as he knelt next to her. “Are you alright?” He can tell something’s not right with the girl.

“I....” she turns her head, “I.... I don’t know. I... Why didn’t they tell us about him?”

“When you lose someone you love, sometimes it can be very hard to talk about them. Especially when you can’t accept that they were lost.” The Avatar of Pride stands his niece up, letting her hold onto him for support- for grounding. “Your parents have wanted to tell you for some time, but they just couldn’t bring themselves to. They didn’t mean to deceive you.”

Even with her uncle’s words, Azalea was still unsure. She just wants to escape right now, feeling like she was suffocating. “I... I think I’m gonna hang out in my room right now. I need some space.” With that she dashes up the stairs, an action not unnoticed by her parents.

------------------------------------------------------

“Azalea, can we talk?” Arella opens the door to her daughter’s room- the one that had once been her husband’s.

“Yeah,” The girl says softly as she thumbs through a book absentmindedly.

Arella takes a seat next to her daughter as she opens her arms for her, a little relieved when the half-demon takes the invitation, the book discarded to the side as she buried her face in her mother’s chest.

“Why didn’t you guys tell me that I wasn’t....”

“We weren’t sure how- at least with you, my little flower.” She runs her hands through her daughter’s hair. “We didn’t want you to think we were punishing you in the worst way possible...”

“So what happens next for me? What’s my purpose now?”

“I’m afraid that’s something you have to discover on your own. You’ll find it one day, but you’re free now from the weight that your father’s title brings. You can be whatever you want.”

“Do you and Dad still love me? Am I good enough...?”

“Of course we do. We will always love you, princess. You are enough for us so don’t worry, okay?” She presses a kiss to the top of Azalea’s head. “We’re heading home now, okay? It's time for dinner and we can’t leave your brothers waiting.”

Azalea nods as she rises from the couch and they head out to meet Mammon and Cyrus. As the four of them walk home, everything feels right once more. With Cyrus back, their family finally feels complete.

------------------------------------------------------

And so the story has a happy ending. I could possibly do another fic all bout how Azalea copes with not being Mammon’s successor anymore but I haven’t decided yet. I’m going to write a tumblr exclusive fic for Aurelius first instead of a comic before I do any of that though.

find more on my masterlist

[calaofnoldor]

Sixth Time’s the Charm [1]

Characters: Sam x F!Reader, Dean, OCs

Words: 1,550

Series Summary: All the times Dean has tried to get Sam to admit his feelings for you.

Chapter Summary: Dean asks you to flirt with a cop for info. Sam is not pleased.

Warnings: jealous!sam, protective!sam, huffy!sam, badass!reader, exasperated squirrel, mutual pining, idiots in love, tropesss

A/N: this is part one of a six-part mini series that is essentially an amalgamation of all the jealous/protective tropes. sorry not sorry?

MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST

The first time was an impromptu experiment. Of course, Dean already knew Sam had a crush on you; he raised the kid for crying out loud. That and the way Sam had stumbled over his own tongue and feet the first time they encountered you (and nearly every time thereafter) made it quite obvious to everyone… well, except you, apparently. Regardless, Dean figured it was just the case of a simple crush and poor Sammy being unable to match his finesse with the ladies.

So when the three of you came across a sleazy police captain, who was in no way shy about having the hots for you, during a rugaru hunt in Nebraska, Dean was rather taken aback by his brother’s unusual reaction.

Strolling into the Omaha police department with you and Sam on either side, the older Winchester had identified the captain immediately from his picture online.

“Captain Anderson,” Dean addressed the man directly in a low, authoritative tone, “I’m Agent Parker, and these are my partners Agents Stan and Lee.” He motioned to his right and left side as he introduced you, accordingly, pausing as you flashed your fake badges in unison.

The captain was a tall, slightly rotund fellow, with a mustache to rival an 80’s porn star’s, and he scoffed haughtily at your entrance. “What the hell do the feds want with us? And did they really hafta send three of ya?” He gestured pointedly at you with a patronizing raise of his chin and your blood began to boil at the implicitly misogynistic remark.

“Well no offense, Captain,” you spoke up; your FBI get-up always gave you an extra boost of confidence (something about the power suit vibes you supposed), plus men like him really pissed you off, “but there have been five deaths here within the last week, and from what I understand, your team has a grand total of zero working theories and just as many leads, so perhaps you can understand why the government would show some concern.”

“Mm, mm, mm!” Captain Anderson chanted obnoxiously in response. He gave you a painfully slow once-over, eyes filled with a crude and unrestrained lechery that forced a shiver down your spine. “A woman who knows how to take charge… I like that,” he licked his lips lasciviously.

Dean was torn between awaiting your likely ruthless and epic comeback or telling the douchebag off himself when he heard Sam clear his throat forcedly beside him. Looking over, he was surprised to find his giant of a little brother to be a picture of rage. Strained jaw, clenched fists, distended chest, and a murderous glare directed unwaveringly at the Omaha police captain.

Meanwhile, you were finding it difficult to resist the urge to roll your eyes and repress your temper to maintain a professional front. “We need information and clearance,” you stated firmly, ignoring the cop’s inappropriate and debaucherous display, “Are you going to hand it over or not?”

“Sorry little miss, no can do! You’re prolly gonna hafta talk to the chief if you want in on a big boy case like this one… but, you know, I can think of some ways you might be able to convince me otherwise,” he finished with a lewd wink before taking off.

Sam looked like he was about to lunge at the captain, but Dean put a hand on his arm to ground him. He was starting to suspect Sam’s behavior might have more to do with you than the fact that the captain was a regular dickhead. After all, Sam was usually the calmer and more rational of the brothers, especially during hunts.

You were too busy holding yourself back to notice though, staring daggers into Anderson’s back as you watched him walk away.

“What an asshole. I’m sorry, Y/N,” Dean began. An idea was forming in his head, one that could help him test his theory. “Look, you know I wouldn’t ask this if there was a better way, but dyou think, maybe, just this once, you could… you know? Turn on the charm a bit? Just so we can get in?”

Sam had not been fully engaged in the conversation until just then, too focused on trying to mollify the inexplicable rage that Captain Anderson had incited within him, but Dean’s request certainly caught his attention.

“What?! Dean! You can’t be serious. No. We’ll find another way. Just- No.” Sam’s voice was harder and deeper than usual and for a moment you lost yourself in it, daydreaming that perhaps he was exhibiting a sense of jealously. But who were you kidding? Sam was just a nice guy who detested sexist pricks like Anderson; this had nothing to do with you.

“No, it’s fine. Dean’s right. This is the easiest way. I’ll do it,” you stated quietly before adding with a small smile, “I can suck it up on account of saving some lives.”

Dean grinned and you walked away before Sam could protest any further. When you reached the captain’s office, you didn’t bother knocking on the open door, “Alright, Captain Anderson-“

“Please, call me Frank.” He looked up at you with such a smug and revolting expression, you decided there was no way you could follow through with Dean’s plan.

“Listen, Frank,” you crossed your arms in what you hoped was an ‘I mean business’ stance, but quickly dropped them when you realized the action had unwittingly highlighted your cleavage in the button-down blouse you were wearing and spurred yet another round of gratuitous leering from Frank. “What’s it gonna take for you to hand over the case files and grant us full access to the evidence and crime scenes?”

“Well, since I like you, I’ll make it easy for ya. How about we start with a smile?” He had leaned forward in his seated position behind his desk as he spoke, and you almost smacked him right then.

As you turned to leave, however, it was Anderson who smacked you, open palmed and right on the ass. You forced yourself to take a deep breath before slowly turning back around. Keeping your movements deliberate and unhurried, you bent over his desk, ignoring the impulse to gag at the greasy, utterly unholy scent that filled your nostrils as you got close enough to whisper in his ear, “You know what, I’ll make it easy for you too. How about, if you give my partners and I complete authorization on this case, I won’t report you to the feds for sexual harassment? See, I know people in the upper ranks and I’ve got a lawyer who wipes the floor with guys like you on the daily.” It was all lies, of course, but you figured it was for a good cause.

“So what’s it gonna be, Captain?” You asked after straightening yourself back up.

As you’d hoped, the bastard was looking a little worse for wear, though you could tell he was trying to retain what little he could of his arrogant persona. “You little bitch.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Fine. You can have it,” he pointed at a stack of file folders on his desk, and then sighed as he produced three security passes, “Go crazy! Go fuck yourself.”

“Gladly,” you sassed, ready to strut out of there with everything you came for in hand.

Behind you, things had not gone so smoothly. When Sam saw Anderson slapping your butt, he was fully prepared to march over and break the captain’s nose, but Dean again held him back, “Woah, hey, you know Y/N can handle herself. What’s up with you?”

Then when he was forced to watch you lean in tantalizingly close and whisper something in Anderson’s ear, Sam experienced an entirely foreign sensation. He was still burning with fury, but that anger was joined by a peculiar ache. His heart had risen to his throat as he stood there, completely transfixed, a look of dejection and longing written across his face.

‘Huh,’ Dean had thought with an internal smirk, ‘Sammy’s got it ba-ad!’ he sing-song-ed in his own head, storing the information away for later, when he could find an opportune moment to tease his baby brother about it.

For now, Dean gave you two thumbs up as he watched you return with a triumphant grin, holding up three official passes by their lanyards.

“Got it all. We’re completely in,” you supplied each brother a security pass when you reached them.

“Damn. You are good, woman! What did you even say to him?” Dean chuckled as the three of you left the station.

“Oh nothing, just a bit of light threatening.”

Sam stopped to look at you quizzically. “Wait, what? You mean you didn’t- you weren’t… flirting with him?”

“Nah, I was too appalled by the thought to go down that route.”

“Oh,” he huffed out, looking down with drooped shoulders and an awkward twitch of a smile. You could have sworn he looked somewhat relieved, but decided not to read too much into it, too pleased with yourself to allow the ever-growing gloom of your unrequited love dampen your spirits.

The whole time Dean was staring back at the two of you in disbelief. ‘These goddamn idiots,’ he thought with an exasperated yet slightly amused shake of his head.

→ CARRY ON

thanks so much for reading! feedback always appreciated 💞

[tfwhynoy]

Lost and Found, Chapter 1

The rain was coming down fast. Tiny droplets streaking down the sky to pattern the sidewalks. Too much to be considered a drizzle, but not enough to be considered a proper downpour. The clouds hid away the sun leaving everything just a bit darker, even in mid-day.

A perfect day for a walk.

Most people stayed inside, afraid of getting a bit wet, finding the dulled out look of the world depressing. For you though, it’s better. No need to wear sunglasses, no loud kids screaming through the complex, no joggers or dog walkers to watch out for.

Sure, half the time people would just forget how to drive properly, but today you had nowhere to go. No urgent errands to do, no places to be, no one to talk to.

So you walk to nowhere. Letting the excess energy out of your legs so you can spend the rest of the day vegetating on the couch. You could have done some chores instead like you usually do when it’s bright or hot out but…

Today is the perfect day for a walk.

Even though you’re a little wet that’s okay. You wore a jacket for a reason, it’s thick enough that the spattering of rain won’t soak through, just the same with your pants too.

It’s almost fun too, just getting a little wet, your hair damped down with water, the excess dripping down your nose. You always walk fast enough to work up a sweat anyway, and the rain isn’t that cold. As long as you watch for large puddles in the streets so no jackass can even think about soaking you proper, you don’t really worry about it.

When you get home you’ll toss your jacket in the dryer and take a nice warm shower before cocooning yourself away to watch Tv or something in the softest clothes you own. The perfect way to wind down after a nice long walk.

Today though, something feels a little… off.

Nothing is wrong, logically, but something feels different. Like the world just got tilted two degrees to the left and you’re only just realizing how crooked things are.

You look around, nothing seems off. The small pond water feature near your apartment is just as murky as always. The jets off center in the middle spraying away. The rain is breaking up the surface, preventing you from seeing the surface currents that always sectioned off the pond as water flowed in and out.

Looking down at the water nearest to you you can see the bottom. It’s about half a foot deep near the edges, and sometimes you can spot little fish darting around the brown algae ridden water. There aren’t any beer cans or bottles floating in it today.

As you look though you can’t help but notice something strange. Near the edge there is a sliver of water not being pelted by the rain. It ripples just fine but the droplets aren’t hitting the water.

And the spot moves with you as you walk.

It’s a bit further behind but is walking at the same pace as you. As you start to slow to stare perplexed at this weird patch of water it too slows to stop. Experimentally you back up a bit, it doesn’t follow. Nor does it follow when you walk a few steps forward again.

You walk close and stick your hand over the spot and find there just isn’t rain. Looking up there isn’t any god made holes in the clouds to save this little spot from getting wet and as you raise your hand-

You startle as it hits an umbrella out of nowhere. The sudden jostle sends a cascade of water off the plastic umbrella onto the ground, making you jump just a tad bit further away from the object and the person holding it.

They look… strangely familiar. Their hair is between brown and red, a thick pair of glasses adorn his face, and they look a mix between surprised and confused.

“Uh… sorry. I didn’t see you there?” It sounds more like a question than you intended. Glancing down you realize the patch of weird water really was just this guy's umbrella covering the water as he walked behind you.

But how had you not noticed him walking behind you? Why did he stop when you did?

And why hadn’t he said anything when you were acting like an idiot about the water?

Cringing a bit you turn, unsure what to say or do. He’s been silent this whole time. His slightly surprised expression gave way to pure curiosity.

Is that what a curious expression looks like? You can’t say for sure, reading faces has never really been your strong suite and… you can’t see his eyes. There’s this weird blue shine reflecting off his glasses completely obscuring his eyes. It’s like some weird anime scene and it’s not helping you decipher anything about this guy.

“Who-What-Are?-“ you have no idea what you’re trying to ask or even say. Shouldn’t you just walk away and hope that you both forget this ever happened. It’s so awkward and dumb but instead, “Are you okay?” You ask that instead. You don’t know why but it felt right to. That’s a normal thing to ask right? Like a weirdly intimate ‘How are you doing?’

That surprised expression is back for a moment before breaking out into a small but bright smile. “I’m doing pretty good today. Though it is a bit strange to go out in this weather, isn’t it?”

You make a face at him for a moment, confused, “You’re… out here too though. If you don’t like the rain why are you out here?”

“I could ask you the same, aren’t you worried you’ll catch a cold?”

His voice is nice, and slightly teasing. He sounds friendly, approachable, like someone you bumped into at the grocery store and are actually happy to see.

“I’ve never caught a cold in the rain. Besides, it’s just nice to walk in without all the people and the noise. It’s quieter these days…” your voice trails off and you aren’t sure why you’re telling him this. “Who are you anyway? I have this nagging feeling like I know you somewhere but I just can’t remember where.”

His expression drops immediately, he suddenly seems distant and you can’t help but feel bad, “Oh that’s not your fault. I’m quite forgettable. I’d be surprised if you recognized me.”

“Wait, do we actually know each other? Because if we do I’m sorry, that's

so not a you thing. I’m absolutely atrocious with names and faces. You actually seem really nice? For some reason? Who are you?”

He opens his mouth to say something but pauses, letting you catch a flash of fangs before he gives a bittersweet smile. “Just consider me a distant friend of sorts. Here, take my umbrella. You should get home.”

“What?” You say dumbly as he tries to hand off said umbrella to you.

“You may not worry about you catching something but I do. Besides, Lilith must be missing you something fierce all by herself. Why don’t you head back before the rain kicks up more?”

You take the umbrella without thinking, mumbling a quick “Ya, should prolly check on her,” as you start walking away.

Your dog always hated when you were gone, especially when you left on walks without her. You would have brought her but the rain always scared her. You’d just have to cuddle her a bit more when you got home to make up for your absence.

You have been gone for a while, about an… hour and a half according to your phone! You’ve gone for longer walks but you had just left the complex, the pond was only just on the edge of it and you couldn’t have been walking around it that long.

It doesn’t make sense, it takes less than five minute to walk to the pond and you weren’t there for that long, right?

Sighing you concede to yourself that it must’ve just been you tunnel visioning and losing track of the time. It’s happened before and it seems to be happening more frequently lately.

As you go to unlock your door you're confronted by a series of questions that you never thought you’d be asking.

Whose umbrella is this? When did you pick it up? And why did you not realize you were holding it till just now?