#clarification on earlier tags

[starlos-soulmate]

I love it when I'm so hungry I'm nauseous and I wanna eat stuff. I have food right there in front of me but I can't eat it. And that's making everything worse

[wetbloodworm]

diversity win! the person blackmailing/threatening you into working for it isn't cis!

[tired-fandom-ndn]

The final confrontation with Galbatorix did not make me ship him and Eragon any less (the, "I shall enjoy having you in my service," line was. very good.) but it did change my ideas a lot.

[goon-account]

i'm gonna start punching walls

[lepetitfruit]

Every time I have a knee-jerk reaction to clarify "oh I think this is cool but I'm not ~one of them~" I have to stop and think for a moment about why. What about being perceived as part of that group bothers me? Why does it bother me? What would clarification acheive, other than alienating a group I'm trying to say is interesting? It's very informative

[mx-pastelwriting]

Just This Once

- 3K Follower Post Celebration! This fic is one of three! Thank you guys so much again for enjoying my writing! Definitely worth the long nights of tears and sleep deprivation! K LUV YOU BYE!!! NOW ENJOY THE SCARY SPAGHETTI NODDLE!!!

SILCO X GN! READER

SUMMARY: Stressed Silco, the King of Zaun asks if you'd sleep with him. Only for the night, as he says. WARNINGS/TAGS: Smut, Power dynamic, Cigar Use

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Stepping up the wooden stairs, trying not to slip on the simmer that covered them, surprised no one had licked it up earlier when the bar was open. Towel thrown over your shoulder seconds ago finished polishing the many glasses that were set under the bar's countertop.

Keys rattling in your hand, knocking on Silco's office door, opening the door when hearing his invite. Scanning over the king of Zaun, sitting in his chair. Head in his hands, slowly sitting back up with a hand gliding over his hair, putting each strain back in place.

“Finished closing up,” you say, walking over to the desk, placing the keys atop it. Not bothering to look at your boss’s two-toned eyes that held a piercing stare while turning to exit.

“Before you go,” he says, interrupting your exit. Facing the drug lord, trying to find anything that you have done wrong in your head.

Watching as he sets his elbows atop the desk, leaning in before motioning to the couch. Carefully sitting down, keeping your eyes on him, as did he with you, though his stare being one of interest.

“I have something to ask of you,” he starts, having your full attention.

“I’ll only ask you to do this once if you agree,” he continues, causing your nerves to rise by the second. Seeing how fear wore you, a small smirk dawned on his face before furthering his ask.

“I’ve been stressed these past few days and need a release. I'm asking if you'd be willing to help me release that stress.” He spoke so smoothly, yet still, you sat confused, brows furrowing as you tried to find clarification.

“Are you asking me to massage your shoulders or…?” Your confused ask makes Silco chuckle.

“I’m asking if you’d let me fuck you.” His blunt words buzzed in your mind, his face showing no sign that this was a joke. Swallowing back your fear and jokes, needing to feel this out.

“What do I get out of it?” You ask, making the man pause, making him look off to the side to think, allowing you to scan his features a bit more. Defining him in your mind, how his lips pursed when thinking, and how his hair was quick to fall apart, making his arm sore from the habit of smoothing it back over.

“What do I have to do?” You ask, breaking the air’s silence and pulling the man from his thoughts, “Do I just have to blow you?” Your words filled with anxiousness, refusing to wait any further in the office, especially with this ask lingering in the air.

Instead of answering you, he holds out his hand, inviting you over. Taking it, he guides you to lean against his desk. Looking down at the dangerous man, his gentle touch contrasts with his sharp stare that travels up and down your body quickly before speaking once again.

"I'm not here to ask you for something so simple," he says, glancing down at your body once again, giving you the hint your mouth nor hand were what he sought from you.

"Closing shifts only and a pay raise. Those are my conditions," you state. Needing more pay and only wanting closing shifts to not have to deal with the bar during its golden hours and the heavy smell of simmer. Though this wasn't the only thing in it for you, as the king of Zaun wasn't bad-looking, and his intimidation not only made you squirm in fear but made something much deeper in your pool.

Watching as Silco smiles, leaning in, hand still holding yours, giving him the power to yank you close, lips inches away from each other. "Conditions accepted," he whispers before smashing his lips into yours.

Forced to lean back as he stands up, hands now gripped onto your thighs, squeezing roughly. Before you could touch a single strain of his hair, Silco pulled away, staring down at you hungrily before once again yanking you.

Following his lead off the desk and into a door that connects to his office to a room filled with bookcases that lined the walls of the dark room with a bed in the middle of it.

“Strip,” Silco orders, still catching his breath. Doing as he says, adrenaline pounding in your ears. Standing in front of Silco, bare and stiff as he looked over you, excited by the sight of the outline on his pants that grew bolder by the second.

Pushing you down with one nudge, landing on the thin bedsheets that smelled less of cigars and more of strong hair products and cologne. Breathing it all in quietly while watching the show of him unbuttoning his vest, then shirt, and pants with every clank of his belt, making the reality of your agreement more real.

Finally, being just as bare as you, he slowly climbs on top of you, legs in between yours, making sure they stay open. Sparsely trailing kisses along your chest, then touching back down roughly on your lips. One hand supported his body hovering over you while the other raised your thigh, allowing his cock to teasingly slide against you.

Silco's hums of enjoyment fight against your huffed whines; once again, just as the enjoyment starts to peak, Silco pulls away, leaving you with an emptiness as your nerves rattled for more.

"I was ready to hand you over anything you wanted when you agreed." He says, out of breath. "You should have asked for more." He continues to tease you.

"Get on all fours," he orders, following his orders once again, this time with a drunken need for him. Watching from the corner of your eye as he quickly grabs a cigar from the nightstand, the flicker of the lighter makes your breath hitch.

Quickly looking away, feeling as the bed behind you dips with the smell of his cigar taking over the air, you started to gasp as Silco entered you. Pushing through your wet walls, leaving no time for them to adjust, with a free hand, he pushes your shoulders down, leaving your face to be pressed against the thin sheets.

Silco's nails dig into your shoulder as his thighs slap against your ass, echoing off the walls, harmonizing along with your eruptive moans. Looking up at Silco through watered eyes, watching as his head tilts back, biting down on his cigar, breathing the thick smoke.

Fighting off the discomfort of his cock having made its home in you so quickly, needing to feel the pleasure of your boss's cock quickly as his lasting time was unknown to you.

Taking notice of your stare, he pulls the cigar from his mouth, leaning in as he hovers it over your mouth, inviting you to hold onto it for him. Accepting the offer, allowing him to use both hands to hold your hips in place, supporting his rougher thrusts.

Hearing Silco's moans almost out-beating yours as you tried not to cough from the light intakes of his cigar. A flood of curses sounded from behind you as his thrusts became clumsy yet deep, carving deep within you as his hips buckled, though still slamming against you, needing to watch your ass pounce against his thighs.

Finishing his climax, pulling out of you with a shaky sigh. Watching with watered eyes and tears-stained cheeks as he moved off the bed while picking the cigar from your mouth. Grabbing a blanket from off a chair that sat next to the nightstand, shaking it to unravel it before throwing it over your worn body.

"I'll have Sevika walk you home," he says, walking off out of view, leaving only the sound of the door to alert you to his exit. Whether to walk the city or to sit at his desk to finish off his cigar, it didn't matter as sleep quickly overtook you.

Hello, I hope you enjoyed if there is any grammar mistakes or misspellings sorry about that feel free to let me know in the comments, have a great day/afternoon/night!

♥ mx-pastelwriting does not consent to their fanfiction being copied, copied & credited, translated, used in videos and/or audios, screenshotted, used in AI.

Fanfiction is protected under copyright law when plagiarism is involved. If you plagiarize my work, either a piece or whole in any language, I will take legal action. Inspiration or the same idea does NOT apply to this, only word-for-word plagiarism in any language.

Taglist: @sophieissleepy @birbita @blue124th

[yatori-morgana]

I'm fuckign posting fanfic for once

Contents and warnings: ur js making out tbh, I used literally no names and minimal dialogue

»Floyd Leech x gn!Reader

————————————

His lips are softer than expected. Perhaps it's to balance out the sharpness of his teeth, the teeth lightly tugging on your lower lip. It's hard to remember how or why this started, and while he was slow at first, he's anything but now. His hands are somehow everywhere all at once, squeezing you close and mapping out new territories.

Much like his abnormally long tongue, for that matter. Long enough to make you gag if he wanted, yet it doesn't. There's an underlying care buried beneath the desperate pawing and sharp nips. Did he have candy earlier? You taste artificial grape.

His wandering hands never stay in one place; he's either indecisive or genuinely wants it all. It's hard to tell with him. Similarly, the noises he makes are ever-fluctuating. Some are breathy and quiet, and others are predatory growls. He whines when you bite back, but his breathing unsteadying and grip tightening bely his complaint. It's never enough for him. You're never close enough, constantly pulled by various positions of his hands.

He scrapes his teeth over your tongue when he pulls back slightly, only to push the back of your head and force you back in. He was definitely fighting an intrusive thought.

He's so open with his wants. It's not hard to tell he likes when you tug his hair or dot his lips with pinpricks of blood. He's going to be a very rough lover, not that it wasn't expected.

It's getting too heated.

"Nooo~!" Comes the whine when you break away. He looks like a kicked puppy, reaching for you again only to be gently pushed away. Another whine. Someone could round the corner any second. The point makes him begrudgingly relent, a pout on his face. His lips are spotted with pinpricks of red and kiss-swollen. It's a good look for him.

He seems to flirt with a mood swing, only to pick you up and swing you around. He lets out one of those familiar raucous laughs at your reaction. When you're safely sat back down on terra firma, your face is immediately peppered with more kisses. "I love you~!" He declared with all the confidence in the world.

Is this love? It's easy to question.

The answer somehow comes easier.

When the sentiment is returned, he suddenly becomes uncharacteristically sheepish. He rubs the back of his neck, averting his eyes and holding back an awkward smile. His cheeks are reddening, you notice. Was he always this easy to fluster?

You're squeezed against him all over again, and he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck. He doesn't say or do anything for maybe a solid minute. Then there's a swaying. Left to right, left to right. It's slow and calming, hardly a movement at all. A tap to his shoulder has him leaning back and blinking in confusion. Oh, he's not falling asleep? It's a comfort thing?

Maybe it reminds him of the oceans waves.

You'll never know because you don't ask for clarification.

He mumbles something about wanting to cuddle more and doesn't seem too intent on staying in the same place. There's a pause, but as you search his face, you find yourself relaxing. There's no pressure, no other suggestion. Just wide, hopeful eyes. He's always been one to wear his true emotions on full display when it's safe to.

Safe.

The idea makes you smile.

"Okay."

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Tag list

@kimdourden

[olderthannetfic]

I will never stop finding it hilariously ironic that people were having trouble reading tone over the internet and went "Oh, I know! Since people are having trouble understanding me, I'll create dozens of vague acronyms to use in my posts with no clarification. That will help :)"

Like everyone always uses tone indicators with zero elaboration as to what they mean. No one ever links to any sort of resource or document with a list of them and what they all mean.

And everyone started using them without saying that they were called tone indicators so I couldn't even google what they fucking meant.

99% of the time, all they do is make sentences even more unclear.

"Wow I really love this /pos" you really love this piece of shit?

"Yeah that's perfect /hj" wow that's perfect handjob?

"Someone was really pissing me off earlier /nbh /nst" Man what the fuck is any of that

And whenever people complain about how utterly useless these tone tags are they get yelled at for being ableist. Like yeah the people with autism or other disabilities are definitely being ableist for getting upset that you're making communication even harder. It's not like some of us have memory issues and don't have the time/ability to memorize the definitions of 20 new acronyms.

Just fucking write (sarcasm) or (joking) or (genuine) please for the love of Christ.

--

[xechu]

[Honor & Vengeance] S. Geto - 夏油 傑

Pairing: general!suguru x fem!reader Word Count: 11.6k Series Warnings: please read my blog rules before interacting. 18+ mdni, explicit sexual content, depiction of gore and violence, mature themes Chapter Warnings: mature themes, emotional angst, description of violence, childhood emotional abuse and trauma, suicidal thoughts, death, grief, description of injuries - please read with care Tags: historical au, non-curse au, marriage of convenience, slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut, angst, hurt/comfort Summary: Yu Haibara—Suguru’s right-hand man and childhood best friend—recounts the rise and fall of House Geto, and the oath that bound them together. Suguru's ambitions are revealed, and King Sato had summoned him in private to task him with a secret mission. While all seems calm within the Geto Estate, unresolved issues from the Eastern Campsite continue to fester. a/n: I really enjoyed writing this chapter, even though it's a bit emotionally heavy. I never expected to write a whole chapter in (mostly) Haibara's POV, but he's easily becoming one of my favorite characters in this series. Also, for clarification in this chapter "sworn kin" = godchild. I hope you enjoy and thank you so much for reading! x

Master List: << chapter 5 || chapter 7 (tbc) >>

[Chapter 6]: All-Seeing Advisor

Yu Haibara was the official advisor of House Geto and Suguru’s right-hand man. 

One would think that he was constantly shadowed by the Conqueror of Stars, but fear not! For the All-Seeing Advisor was brilliant in his own ways, and a palace court favorite too, particularly among the female servants.

Ah. The tragedy of being the keeper of many beautiful women’s hearts, and by beautiful, he meant the kind who smiled freely and laughed with their whole heart. And if they didn’t? Well, there’s beauty in the quiet mystique as well. And dare he say, even more alluring? 

But by no means was he a womanizer! 

No. Never.

More like a painting if he might humbly suggest. Destined to only be admired from afar. After all, being his best friend’s right-hand man was already enough—his life’s purpose.

The two arrived at the palace earlier this morning to relay further details of the incident at the Eastern Campsite. It was an unusual request, though not entirely unheard of, but Sato had asked for a private audience with Suguru. There was a special task that he needed to assign to his general, which was how Haibara currently found himself waiting alone in an empty corridor. 

In the silence, Haibara couldn’t help but reflect on the current predicament back home.

On the surface, everything at the Geto Estate seemed status quo, but underneath, it was anything but—like a simmering volcano ready to erupt without warning. The silence was more deafening than any scream.

It had been two weeks since everyone returned, but ever since, you had confined yourself in the guest house. Yumi was the only connection between you and the rest of the world.

“How is she?” Haibara asked Yumi in passing. 

“Our Lady is recovering steadily.”

As usual, Yumi’s answers were always short and lacked explanation. Of course, he was relieved to hear you were recovering. But her words were underspoken, because he knew the wound on your hand wasn't the only wound that required tending to: it was the one inside your heart, undoubtedly still bleeding and perhaps even more severe.

Everyone had seen it that day, how Suguru leapt to Ayaka’s defense. It may have seemed noble, even loyal. But it was also revealing. Because if a man truly loved his wife the way Suguru so convincingly appeared to, his first instinct would have been to protect you. Even if it meant treason. Even if it meant death.

Lord Shinjiro would have protected Lady Sumire—even at the cost of the King.

“Master Haibara… if I may,” Yumi said softly. “I know it is not in my place to say such things, but it pains me to watch my Lady wither away like this…”

She didn’t even have to explain the details for dread to weigh in the pit of his stomach.

“I hope Geto-sama can understand how much this cost her. My Lady is beloved by many, and also has many hobbies. She can no longer write to her father, nor ride a horse properly—and most of all, she may never pick up a sword again.

“Surely, Geto-sama must understand as a soldier himself—that this is akin to a death sentence. Does your lord not think he should at least grant some decency and visit her?”

Haibara swallowed the lump in his throat. Truth be told, he completely agreed with Yumi. How could he not? Since the first day they had gotten back to the estate, he had tried to convince Suguru several times to go see you, but his pleas fell on deaf ears. 

He knew that this time Suguru didn’t dare to visit, not because he was too proud, but because he didn’t think he deserved to face you.

And Haibara understood the feeling of guilt and shame better than anyone else—it eats you alive. 

It was like that day all over again. 

The one person Suguru refused to see a final time before the cremation…

Was Sayuri.

.

.

.

It may come as a surprise to most, but Suguru wasn’t just some cold, calculated warlord from birth. He used to be a boy filled with hopes and dreams just like anyone else. He laughed, smiled, teased, and could even be a little mischievous. On the other hand, Haibara—believe it or not, was the complete opposite. He was quiet, observant, and even a bit distant. 

By the age of eight, Haibara was already well-accustomed to shame and embarrassment, and worse yet, how to smile through it. 

Now, why would such emotions be placed on a boy who was far too young, far too unequipped, to navigate such feelings?

It was all because of his father: Akito Haibara. 

Akito was best described as a sly fox. A social climber. An opportunist. His ambitions outweighed his morals. Though he was intelligent and competent when he needed to be, his achievements had never been through merit, but rather through the connections he had sunk his claws in. He was a senior finance clerk within the royal palace, another administration role among the hundreds within its golden walls, but the only reason such an opportunity was even afforded to him in the first place, was because his wife was a minor lord’s daughter. Otherwise, as a person of common birth, he couldn’t even dream of stepping through the palace gates. 

As a senior clerk, Akito was tasked with low-level treasury duties but still made a decent salary, yet, fortune on its own was not good enough. He wanted prestige. Status. Legacy. His dream was to become the Chief of Treasury. 

And so, whenever he could, he would try to rub shoulders with whoever he deemed may be useful in catapulting his career, while blatantly ignoring anyone who didn’t serve his ambitions. In hindsight, Haibara was sure that his father saw everyone as chess pieces—quite literally and figuratively. 

But sometimes, the universe seemed to favor the cruel, because very soon Akito struck an opportunity of a lifetime: Shinjiro Geto. 

Shinjiro came into the House of Revenue one quiet afternoon while Akito was alone at the front desk. And right away, he recognized who the imposing figure was—the famed General of the Nine Suns, the embodiment of good character and integrity, a man that was almost more regal than King Sato himself. In fact, if he hadn’t known any better, he would have thought Shinjiro was the king. 

Akito, being the conniving fox he was, was already scheming, thinking of what sweet and enticing words to say and make an impression on the unassuming general. 

“General Geto, what a pleasant surprise.” He put on his best smile. 

“Ah, yes. You are…” 

Of course the general—up on his high horse—wouldn’t have known a lowly clerk like himself.

“Forgive my impoliteness. I am Akito Haibara, the senior finance clerk here,” he lightly bowed. 

“Akito, a pleasure. And, please, there is no need for such formalities. We are all civil servants here,” Shinjiro chuckled. 

Indeed, Akito was a great opportunist. Too cunning for his own good.

That one introduction sparked a string of conversations, and soon, he somehow secured himself an invitation to the Geto Estate.

“I have a son who’s just a year older than Yu, perhaps, if it’s not too much to ask—you can bring him to our home some time,” Shinjiro smiled earnestly. 

“How could I ever burden you like that, General Geto?” 

“Please, Akito, you can call me Shinjiro. I insist… besides,” the general let out a small weary sigh. “Suguru needs more friends. He spends too much time between books and the sword—I worry for him.” 

“Ah, but I’m sure it’s only because he wants to live up to his father’s legacy.” 

Shinjiro hummed, but there was a slight sadness in his eyes. “I often wished it weren’t so.” 

“I understand your sentiment, Shinjiro. We only ever hope for our children’s happiness.” 

“Precisely, I’m glad you understand. Sometimes... I wish my boy wasn’t so hard on himself.”

“And sometimes I wish my boy was more disciplined!”

The two men paused and exchanged an amused look. And then broke out into laughter. 

“Then it’s settled—Suguru and Yu could learn from each other.” Shinjiro let out a sigh of relief.

“If it is for our children’s future, then allow me to be a shameless father.” Akito agreed heartily.

—

Confusion washed over Haibara as his father abruptly woke him up. Before his vision could even focus—before he had a chance to understand what was going on—his father had already begun yelling at him for being slow, muttering something about a place they had to visit. The Geto Estate—wherever that was.

Akito screamed for his wife, who bolted into the room, flustered. He barked out the order as he walked away: “Change him into his best clothes, so he doesn’t embarrass me.”

Haibara watched as his mother fumbled to the wardrobe, a familiar feeling bubbled in his chest once again. He had only recently learned the name of this feeling through a book he’d read by chance. Whenever he saw his mother, the name of that feeling was pity.

It was confusing, he didn’t know why his father was so awful to his mother, and he didn’t understand why his father seemed to hate him. He had never said it out loud, but it was evident in his eyes. His father always gave him a mean look. But in front of others, he was timid, soft-spoken—like a kind man.

So which one was his real father? 

He wasn’t sure.

He had only hoped it was the kind man.

But he knew, deep down, it probably wasn’t.

…

Haibara found himself standing beside his father in front of the large wooden doors of the Geto Estate. It was enormous! He was certain the door alone could fit twenty of him.

Excitement washed over him as he admired the sheer size of the doors, but it faded quickly as his father let out a harsh grunt. The small boy immediately froze—a warning that he recognized all too well. It usually came before his father lost his temper.

As the doors swung open, he watched his father’s expression shift instantly. The kind-man face was back.

Hand-in-hand, the father and son crossed the threshold and into the front garden. Haibara had never seen such splendor before. The landscape was spectacular—well-manicured greenery, a serene zen garden, vibrant trees, and a few groundskeepers tending to the yard. If the Geto Estate was already this beautiful, he could only imagine what the palace must look like.

“Quit ogling like you’re some low-class commoner,” Akito hissed under his breath.

But he was a hypocrite. Green with envy, his own eyes scanned the yard and the immaculate estate.

If only he hadn’t been born a commoner.

If only his wife weren’t a minor lord’s daughter.

If only his son wasn’t such a weak, fragile thing.

He was competent. Intelligent. Handsome. He had all the makings of nobility. So why did the universe deal him such a lowly hand?

Why couldn’t he live Shinjiro Geto’s life?

As they continued toward the estate entrance, Akito couldn’t help the jealousy simmering inside him. It only deepened when he saw the Geto family standing there—waiting to greet them.

The whispers about Sumire Geto were true. Even after two children, she was still exquisite. A woman whom kings would go to war and tear down kingdoms for. It was a surprise that King Sato did not take her for himself. 

A beautiful, picturesque family.

The envy of all men.

“Father, you’re holding my hand too tight!” Haibara squirmed under his grip.

Akito clicked his tongue and glared down at his son. Weak. His boy was so infuriatingly weak. 

The day hadn't even begun, and Haibara was already wracked with anxiety. Were the Getos going to be nicer than Father? Or do they also have their kind-man faces? 

“Akito, I’m so glad you could make it!” A welcoming voice called out.

“Shinjiro, thank you for your generous invitation.” Akito bowed.

Haibara timidly followed, “Thank you for the invitation, Lord Shinjiro, Lady Sumire.” Mimicking his father’s movements. 

“My, you are a polite boy!” Shinjiro smiled, kneeling down on one knee to meet the small child in the eyes.

Lord Shinjiro indeed had a kind-man face, but it was different. His smile felt like the sun, and the slight crinkles around his eyes reminded him of the rays. All Haibara could do was stare at him in awe and slowly nod.

“This is my boy, Suguru, the two of you are around the same age,” he gently pulled Suguru to his side.

Haibara’s first impression of Suguru was that he was rather intimidating. He may have only been a year older, but he was already a few inches taller. He was also handsome like his father, but unlike Lord Shinjiro, Suguru felt like the winter snow. Cold, yet there was also a certain gentleness to him. His voice was rather soft, but his words were unwavering and precise. Sayuri, who was only four, was already a lot livelier than her older brother. And though she looked like Lady Sumire, Sayuri, too, felt like the sun.

But among all of them, if Haibara had to be honest, he couldn’t take his eyes off of Lady Sumire. If Lord Shinjiro and Sayuri were the sun, Suguru the winter snow; Lady Sumire reminded him of sun glitter—the shimmering light on water. He never knew it was possible for someone to be so radiant, and her voice was like a soothing lullaby. 

For the first time, Haibara experienced the uncomfortable pangs of jealousy. 

Because when he looked at Lord Shinjiro and Lady Sumire, he wished his father could feel like the warm sun too—and his mother could sparkle like sun glitter.

“Suguru, why don’t you go show Yu around? Perhaps you two can get to know each other more.” Lady Sumire smiled.

Suguru nodded and turned to Haibara. “What would you like to do? I can show you the training field or my study.”

“Oh yes. My boy has a variety of interests! He’s very keen on books and the sword as well!” Akito exclaimed.

Haibara shot a nervous look at his father. The sword? That wasn’t true. He had never even touched a wooden sword in his life! He wanted to tell them that his father made a mistake. Perhaps he remembered wrong. He loved books, yes, but never the sword—

“Is that right?” Shinjiro seemed amused. “Then it seems our two boys have a lot in common!”

Nervousness settled in Haibara’s chest as he followed Suguru’s lead. He quietly hoped they'd go to the study instead, and forget all about the training field. But of course, just as luck would have it, Suguru led him straight to the field.

“Here.” Suguru gave a small smile as he handed him a wooden practice sword, a slight interest glimmering in his eyes—unlike Haibara’s, which probably looked like those of a scared deer.

Especially with his father and the Getos watching from afar, he already dreaded how this would unfold.

Why did his father have to lie?

Why did he always put him in these kinds of predicaments?

“Are… you ready?” Suguru asked, but there was a bit of uncertainty in his voice. As if he’d caught on his pretense. 

Haibara only nodded. Perhaps he’d just block a few of Suguru’s strikes and then it would be over. Surely, it wasn’t that difficult… right?

Wrong. 

It was a lot more difficult than he had imagined.

Thanks to beginner’s luck, Haibara barely managed to block his first strike. Suguru’s wooden sword grazed his shoulder from the way he deflected the sword, and it stung, but Haibara endured it. On the second strike, he completely missed the block with his sword, and blocked it with his wrist instead. By the third strike, Suguru nearly hit his head but immediately stopped when Lord Shinjiro gave him a stern warning that he was being too rough. 

Immediately after the warning, Suguru completely deflated—letting out a small huff, and returned the sparring swords to the rack.

“Why did you agree to spar when you didn’t want to?” he asked. There was an unamused look on his face.

“I… don’t know how to,” Haibara murmured, staring down at his feet.

“But your father said you were interested in the sword.”

“No… not really,” Haibara quietly confessed. 

“So is your father a liar then?”

Heat rose to Haibara’s ears. He wanted to tell Suguru that his father was indeed a liar... a very good one, too. But what if the truth was relayed to Lord Shinjiro and Lady Sumire—and they never invited Father back?

Father would be angry. 

He wished he could tell the truth, but the fear of his father's wrath gripped him like an icy vice.

“N-No…” Haibara lied.

“Then if your father isn’t a liar, then you must be a liar.” Suguru let out a breath of disbelief. 

“I’m not!” His voice came out louder, more desperate, than he intended.

All heads turned toward the commotion, and when Haibara met his father’s scornful gaze, the blood drained from his face. The world began to spin, and it felt as though the sky was falling on him.

Everything was too overwhelming. 

Tears welled in his eyes, and the more desperately he tried to hold them back, the more they threatened to spill. Father always hated it when he cried. Said that tears were for the weak-willed. Said that emotions were weak.

But he couldn’t stop it this time.

He burst into tears. 

Everyone crowded around him, their faces etched with concern. All but Suguru, who stood behind his parents and watched everything unfold with a cold stare. Yet in a moment of vulnerability, Haibara's arms flew around Lady Sumire instead of his own father, seeking comfort and refuge. It caught everyone by surprise—except Lady Sumire, who cradled him without hesitation, as if he were her own child.

“I apologize, Lady Sumire!” Akito said, flustered, as he tried to pry his son off. “The boy must miss his mother.”

“It’s fine, Lord Akito,” she smiled gracefully. But her hands tightened around Haibara. “Let him stay.”

He wasn’t sure how long he stayed in her warm embrace, but she never let him go. Her hand moved in soft, comforting circles along his back as she cooed to him gently. In between sobs he would mutter apologies, though he wasn’t even sure what he was apologizing for. But among the muffled sniffles and hiccups, Lady Sumire’s voice rang clear: It’s not your fault, Yu.

After that embarrassing debacle, Haibara was certain he would be reprimanded once he got home. Lady Sumire’s beautiful garment was a mess from all his tears, which his father profusely apologized for. The day dragged on, as he prepared for his impending doom. Suguru also became extremely quiet afterwards, retreating to his study room and then pulling out a book to read. Uncertain, Haibara trailed behind him hesitantly.

“Aren’t you going to join me, or are you just going to stand there?” Suguru murmured.

Something in his tone, and in how he avoided Haibara’s gaze, it reminded him of the way he avoided his father’s gaze whenever he thought he’d done something wrong. 

Was it possible… that Suguru was feeling sorry? 

Haibara nodded and quickly pulled a seat beside Suguru. 

“What books do you like? I have many,” he said, flipping through his own book, but it was clear that he was not actually reading.

“I like all kinds of books—poetry, literature, fiction,” Haibara listed.

Suguru sighed, and reluctantly handed him the book he was currently holding, “How about this one? Your father said you liked books too. I am… a little confused about this one.” 

Haibara’s eyes widened and he nodded, gingerly taking the book from Suguru’s hands. As he flipped through the pages, he enthusiastically explained each paragraph while Suguru quietly nodded along.

Little did he know, Suguru had already read the same fiction book five times. It was his favorite novel, but he just felt bad for making Haibara cry. 

And just like that, a new brotherhood began. 

…

“You have done wonderfully today, my boy!” Akito could barely contain his excitement as he stepped inside their home.

It was surprising, he thought he would be reprimanded after his outburst back at the Geto Estate. Instead, his father picked him up and gave him a few spins, chanting praises for being smart and brilliant.

For a moment, it felt good—that his father was finally pleased with him. 

Haibara looked up to his father, as he was set back on his feet. Akito was grinning from ear to ear, and the boy couldn’t help but return the smile. But very soon, his father's features subtly twisted into something dark.

“It’s all because you tugged at that woman’s heartstrings,” he practically snickered.

That woman? Was he talking about Lady Sumire? 

Haibara’s heart sank at the thought. An unfamiliar feeling coiled in his chest. He didn’t understand it, but all he knew was it didn’t feel so good anymore. 

Still, he kept smiling. 

“Perhaps your weakness can finally be your strength.” 

Did his father mean his tears? 

“Just cry a few more times and she might even make you her sworn kin!” 

His smile immediately dropped as he watched his father hum happily and retreat into his office.

Ever since that day, Haibara never cried again.

Even from the young age of eight, he realized…

He never wanted to break Lady Sumire’s heart.

He never wanted to abuse her kindness.

—

Since that fateful day, on the twelfth of every month, Akito Haibara would bring his son to the Geto Estate without fail, until his son was the ripe age of fifteen, when he was old enough to travel on his own. 

As soon as Haibara gained his independence to travel solo, he would make frequent visits to the Geto Estate, a place that had felt more like a home than his own home. Lord Shinjiro and Lady Sumire would always welcome him with open arms. His and Suguru’s bond continued to deepen. Meanwhile, everyone watched Sayuri blossom into a spirited young girl—a mirror image of Lady Sumire. Haibara treated her like a precious younger sister, though sometimes, the way she bossed him around and teased him, it felt more like she was the older one. It was amusing and strangely endearing.

But even in those warm years, guilt and shame still clung to Haibara like a phantom—an inescapable fate. It was all because of who his father was, and how all this only came to be through his manipulation.

Surely, there was no way someone like Lord Shinjiro couldn’t see through Akito’s deceit…

So then why? Why did he still maintain a relationship with his father? Why did he still help Akito get what he wanted?

Why did he still welcome the likes of Haibara?

He didn't understand it. And a small part of him wasn't sure if he ever wanted to find out.

—

Thanks to Shinjiro’s good word, Akito quickly ascended through the ranks and became the Chief of Treasury. Who would have guessed that a single general had so much sway in the palace? But perhaps, it wasn’t just his simple title—it was the prestige behind the Geto family name. 

By then, Akito had also learned to tame his temper—he had an important image to uphold now, and high society (finally) had its eyes on him. Even so, Haibara’s mother eventually divorced him. She cried when she walked out of their home for the last time, but neither Haibara nor his father shed a tear. His father didn’t cry because he was glad to be rid of her. Haibara, on the other hand, did not shed a single tear—not because he was cold, but because he was happy. He no longer had to feel pity every time he saw her. His mother was free. Free from a wrath she never deserved.

It wasn’t a time for mourning.

It was a liberation worth celebrating.

But of course, for a leech like Akito, the satisfaction of his newfound status and fortune quickly faded. After all, human greed was a parasite.

He hungered for more. He wanted his son to be more. 

Haibara had always irritated Akito. His son was too soft. Too moral. He may have inherited his intelligence, but he had his useless mother’s judgment. He’d never succeed Akito’s legacy.

Not like Suguru.

Suguru would become the next great general—arguably even greater than the General of the Nine Suns. Everyone could see it and had high hopes for him. Shinjiro Geto’s legacy would live on, whereas Akito’s hard work would be all for naught. The Haibara name would never be remembered. So if Akito couldn’t make his son into something great, then he’d tie him to greatness another way.

Sayuri.

Yes. She would be the key.

She would be his son’s wife.

…

Haibara had just returned home from the Geto Estate. Since his father’s new promotion, they now upgraded to an estate—just like the Getos. The only reason why he appreciated their new living conditions was because of the space, which meant there was more distance to avoid his father. 

It always irked him… how his father seemed to be at some odd competition with Lord Shinjiro, except he was the only one entertaining his own delusions. When they first moved, his father immediately hired workers and groundskeepers to bring out his vision for the front yard. And it turned out to be a near replica of the one at the Geto Estate. Thankfully, Akito never extended the Getos an invitation to their new home, because quite frankly, it would have been embarrassing.

Regardless, Haibara kept his mouth shut, because he knew there would be no point. If his father was even reasonable in the first place, his mother would still be here, he would still be a senior clerk, they would still be living in their modest home, but at least they would be happy. 

As he quickly made his way through the front of the estate, Akito emerged from his office and pulled him aside for a private word.

“My son, you are at the age where you ought to start considering a wife,” Akito said out of the blue. 

“Why the sudden thought, Father?” 

“It is not sudden. You will be eighteen soon. I also married your mother when I was that age.” 

“I will consider it another time—I am not eighteen yet.” He tried to shut down the conversation.

“Don’t be foolish, son! Surely, you must have met a suitable woman already. Is there anyone who has caught your eye?” 

Haibara sighed. “No, Father.”

He had already dreaded this conversation. Akito never spoke to anyone without an agenda, including his own son. He knew his father wasn’t asking out of genuine concern; he was trying to gauge him for something. Whatever scheme he was trying to orchestrate this time, Haibara knew he wanted no part of it. Still, he would at least pretend to hear him out.

Akito leaned in, his voice disturbingly lighthearted. “How about Sayuri?” 

Bile rose in his throat, the pit of his stomach churning with disgust. Not because Sayuri disgusted him, but the fact that his vile father had set his dirty sights on her.

“No,” he replied firmly. 

“Why not? She is growing up to be just like her mother—you will be the luckiest man in the country!” 

“I will not consider her, Father. She is like a sister to me.” Haibara tried to contain the fury swirling inside him like a storm. 

“But she isn’t your sister! Think about it—”

“There is no thinking about it. I will not entertain this conversation any longer,” Haibara snapped, beginning to walk away. His body trembled with rage and repulsion.

His father was a lecherous fiend, who only saw women for two things: status and pleasure. And for the first time ever, Haibara finally admitted… he hated his father.

Before he could take more than a few steps, Akito yelled after him. “Have you become so shortsighted?! Sure, you go visit them all the time—but do you think they really consider you as their family?”

Haibara gritted his teeth, ignoring his father and marching straight to his room.

It’s not that what his father said wasn’t true. Even now, he wasn’t sure if the Getos truly saw him as family. But if he must admit, a part of him felt it was for the better that they didn’t, because to this day, Haibara still felt like an outsider among them. He was unworthy. And he never wanted to sully the Geto’s good name. 

They could never be family, because he was Akito Haibara’s filthy kin.

Ever since his father had gotten what he wanted, he had even stopped visiting the Geto Estate—stopped visiting Lord Shinjiro altogether.

It was shameless. 

How he made it so obvious.

How he couldn’t even pretend. 

Every time Haibara visited, Lord Shinjiro would ask him how his father had been doing, and all Haibara could do was come up with the same feeble excuses—that he was busy because of work, or busy entertaining other officials for work. When in reality his disgraceful father would just spend his days gallivanting around town and visiting tea houses… which were fancy fronts for brothels. 

At this point, he was quite certain Lord Shinjiro knew he was lying. Yet, after every feeble excuse, he would give the same warm smile, and remind Haibara to tell his good friend Akito that family and health should come before work. Haibara would return a polite smile and promise him to relay the message to his father. 

But he never would.

His father didn’t deserve Lord Shinjiro’s kindness. 

He himself didn’t deserve Lord Shinjiro’s kindness.

All these years… Haibara felt like a fraud.

Because no matter what, they were cut from the same cloth. 

Like father, like son.

And the thought made him sick.

—

Akito’s marriage conversation replayed in Haibara’s mind over and over again. The more he thought about it, the more disgust churned in his stomach. Normally, he was pretty good at hiding his turmoil, but recently, the mask was too suffocating, too heavy to keep on. And he wasn't sure how much longer he could pretend.

“You’re spacing out again, Haibara,” Suguru mused. 

“What’s wrong with him today, nii-sama?”

Suguru turned to Sayuri and shrugged. 

“It’s nothing… I fell off my horse on the way here, so my back is sore,” Haibara absently lied.

“I don’t believe it,” Suguru gave him a half-amused, half-skeptical look. “You’ve always been a steady rider.”

“Happens to the best of us,” Haibara casually countered, but his gaze was still fixed outside to the courtyard. There was nothing interesting about the courtyard, but his guilt kept him from meeting them in the eyes—especially Sayuri’s. 

Sayuri gave Suguru a puzzled look, which he returned with a knowing nod. “Could you bring Haibara an herbal patch?”

She was tempted to protest, but held back from doing so. 

“...Fine,” she relented, understanding her brother’s tacit request: a boys’ talk.

She quietly left and slid the room door shut. Suguru stayed silent, carefully listening to her retreating footsteps, until he was confident she was far enough from eavesdropping.

“What’s on your mind?” He began.

It was inconvenient how perceptive Suguru was, nothing ever escaped his keen eyes. And for someone like Haibara, it was uncomfortable, because there were too many shameful things he couldn’t say out loud. 

“I don’t want to talk about it.” 

“Then why are you sulking?” 

“I am not—” Haibara clicked his tongue. “I do not sulk.” 

“I beg to differ,” Suguru returned, a small lilt in his voice.

“It’s nothing, Suguru. Stop asking.” He rolled his eyes.

A brief stillness fell over the two boys.

“...is it your father?” 

Haibara paused, and turned his head slowly to meet his friend’s gaze. 

“How would you know?”

“You’re not upset unless it’s him.” 

“Is it that obvious?”

Suguru hummed. “Not really.” 

It was true, Haibara hid his emotions well. But Suguru also knew his best friend better than anyone else, and it was something he took great pride in. After all, he would be a terrible friend if he didn’t notice. 

Haibara let out a deep sigh—a sigh that seemed to carry the weight of the world. He was utterly ashamed, terrified Suguru might see his father’s cruelty as a reflection of him.

But now that he was here, confronted by his best friend, it felt wrong not to confess the truth… when he’s been lying to them for so long.

“My father is a monster.” The words spilled from his lips before he even had time to properly articulate them. 

There was a look of surprise in Suguru’s eyes, and immediately, regret surged in Haibara's chest.

He had already started this conversation wrong.

From here on out, his best friend would never be able to see him the same way again.

“Why is he a monster?”

“He… he’s not a good man. He doesn’t see anyone as an actual human—just a pawn for his gains. Whether it’s his own family or anyone else… I’m sorry I lied to you and your family.”

Heavy silence filled the room. Every second felt suffocating, every breath felt harder and harder to take. Haibara didn’t dare to look into Suguru's eyes. 

The shame. The guilt. The remorse. It was all too much to bear. 

“I’m sorry, Haibara.”

Was this it? 

Was this the end of their friendship—? 

“I should have asked you sooner.” 

Haibara looked at his best friend, eyes wide in shock, and for once, words failed him. This wasn’t the outcome he expected. He thought Suguru would be angry. Disgusted by him—or at the very least, disappointed. But instead, he was apologizing. Accepting him.

He didn’t know what to say. What to think of this situation. 

Because Haibara had only ever prepared for the friendship to be doomed, once the truth of his father’s nature came to light.

Suguru let out a small sigh and narrowed his eyes. Now he was the one who avoided Haibara’s gaze. “I had a feeling—he hadn’t been kind to you. I should have said something.”

“It’s fine…” Haibara quietly said, blinking out the sting in his eyes. 

On one hand, he was relieved that Suguru still wanted to be his friend. But on the other hand, he couldn’t help but feel exposed and embarrassed. 

“He is my father. He’s not your problem, Suguru. I just feel remorseful that he used your family as well.”

Suguru let out a small scoff. “You think my family would easily be tricked by someone—even like your father—into using them? You think too lowly of Geto.”

“Lord Shinjiro helped my father become Chief! That was all he wanted from him this whole time!” 

“And what of it?” Suguru crossed his arms, and leaned back into his chair. 

In this light, Haibara realized—Suguru had truly grown into a formidable young man. He was almost the spitting image of Lord Shinjiro, but he had Lady Sumire’s smile and calm demeanor. 

“Your father may be insufferable, but he’s competent,” Suguru continued, “And as you said, it is thanks to my father he is where he is now, which means he owes my father.”

“Still, Lord Shinjiro is far too kind. He always wishes my father well and asks how he’s doing, when my father doesn’t even care to visit anymore!”

“Well, have you relayed my father’s messages to him?”

“O-Of course, not! He doesn’t deserve it—”

“You should have delivered my father’s messages.”

Haibara shot him a frustrated glance, but Suguru’s gaze only softened.

“Haibara, I can assure you—his well-wishes were never intended for Lord Akito...

“They were for you.”

Haibara blinked, unsure if he’d misheard. He struggled to draw the connection. He didn’t understand how those kind words were for his sake. 

A small, understanding smile graced Suguru’s lips. “That was my father’s way of warning him… that he was watching over you.” 

His breath caught. The revelation knocked the air out of his lungs.

He had always known Lord Shinjiro was sharp. His level of perceptiveness was a rarity even among other like-minded individuals. Yet he never understood why he continued to treat Akito with such patience, with such… grace.

But now, it made sense.

Because Lord Shinjiro wasn’t showing kindness to a man who deserved it.

He was showing kindness to protect someone else.

To protect him.

A sense of remorse and unworthiness washed over him. All this time, he felt isolated, like a stranger looking through a window. But he realized it was not his father, it was not his circumstances, it was him—his own insecurities and resentment towards Akito that kept him from being close. That kept him from truly accepting the Getos.

No more. 

He cannot hide behind self-pity and play victim like his father.

That would be an insult to Lord Shinjiro, to Lady Sumire, to his mother.

Still, one question lingered.

“When… did he know?” Haibara’s voice shook. 

There was a brief pause that followed, only the delicate songbirds cutting into the silence of the study room.

And then, Suguru smiled at him—truly smiled. His eyes carried that same warmth as Lord Shinjiro’s, which was rare. 

“It was my mother who noticed it first.”

Lady Sumire? 

But how?

“That day,” he said softly. “When you ran to her instead of your own father.”

On that quiet spring day, its gentle warmth thawed the cold vice that had always gripped his conscience. Between two sworn brothers, a liberating realization took shape, lifting the weight Haibara had carried for what felt like a lifetime. He never realized how good freedom could feel—like he could soar through the sky and take on the world.

Did his mother feel the same when she left?

Probably not.

Because Haibara understood that she loved him. And no loving mother would have wanted to leave their child behind.

When Haibara finds his own footing in this world—he will visit her, not as the son of Akito Haibara. But as a worthy, capable man in his own right. A man she could be proud of.

Alas, life always takes the opposite turn when one least expects it.

—

Haibara felt as though the world was ending. Silence drowned beneath a deafening buzz ringing in his ears. His breathing became erratic. He clutched his chest—his heart pounding so rapidly, so harshly, he thought he was having a heart attack.

In fact, it was better that he did and just passed away. 

Because what the hell did his father mean that the Geto Family had just been massacred?

Suguru.

Sayuri. 

Lady Sumire. 

Lord Shinjiro… 

“Did you hear me, Yu?” Akito asked, irritation creeping into his voice. He hated repeating himself.

He looked up at his father, who was completely unmoved by the news. Without a flicker of sympathy or sadness, he tossed the scroll aside—a message from the royal court announcing their tragic death.

How could this bastard be so cruel?

Lord Shinjiro welcomed them to his home. Helped Akito rise to power. And this was how he delivered the news? Without even a shred of sympathy? Treating it like it’s an annoyance?

For the first time in his life, Haibara felt something dangerous snap inside him.

A violent, burning rage surged through his veins.

He wanted to kill his father.

Without another word, Haibara rose, grabbed his sword, and secured it at his hip. It was a precious item that was gifted to him by Lord Shinjiro last year. He had always abhorred violence. Mostly because his father had glorified it in such a twisted, hollow way. But over the years, after training with Suguru and Lord Shinjiro, Haibara had learned there could be honor in the sword. And sometimes, it was even a necessity—to protect the ones you cherish.

“Where are you going?” his father asked, irritated. 

“I’m riding to the Geto Estate,” Haibara replied, voice unfaltering. 

“Are you out of your mind?!” Akito shot up from his seat, his cup of wine spilling all over the desk. 

“I should ask you the same,” Haibara snapped, his glare sharp as a blade. “Do you have any honor? Any decency? After all they’ve done for you—this is how you thank them?”

“You really are stupid, just like your mother! What makes you think going there will change anything?! They’re dead—”

Haibara drew his sword, the tip pressing against his father’s throat.

“If you don’t hold your vile tongue, I’ll send another soul to the afterlife tonight,” he said coldly. “Though I doubt even hell would open their gates for you.”

Akito trembled. For the first time, he had seen something foreign in his son's eyes, there was no doubt, no fear, no emotions. He no longer looked weak. Even one more breath, and Akito knew he would certainly be dead. 

For all his boasting about power and strength, he folded quickly when faced with the real thing.

Haibara scoffed, sheathing his sword.

If only he had found his strength sooner. If only he could have protected his own mother.

If only he hadn’t been so afraid of this coward. 

Without another word, he disappeared into the night. Praying for a miracle, Haibara rode full speed toward the estate, focusing on the pounding of his horse’s hooves—anything to drown out the dark voices in his mind

Because he didn’t know if he could live on, if Suguru was dead.

—

It was dawn by the time Haibara made it to the estate. The sky was painted in hues of blue, purple, and pink—Sayuri’s favorite colors. As if the universe was sending a message, that their souls had found peace.

Standing before the grand doors of the Geto Estate brought back a rush of nostalgia—like the very first time he arrived with his father at eight years old. But now, the wood was splintered, blood stained the entrance.

Haibara had never seen the effects of war or violence, he had only read about them in books. But he could already imagine the gruesome sight he would encounter beyond the doors, because he could already smell it—the acrid tang of putrefaction. Like a rancid meat odor, but a hundred times more pungent.

For the first time, he had come to learn the smell of death, and they say that once you’ve smelt it, you could never forget it. No books, no theory, could prepare him for what’s to come.

Despite it all, he must persevere. 

And so, he took a deep breath and marched through the front doors, determined to face the truth, no matter how much it may break him.

There were already royal guards diligently patrolling the premises. Lines of bodies had been covered by white cotton sheets—presumably the servants and in-house workers. Even the horses and chickens were not spared. He made it only a few steps into the front garden before being abruptly stopped by one of the soldiers.

“Halt! What are you doing here?”

“I have come to pay my respects.”

“Does this look like the appropriate time to pay your respect?! Leave now before—”

“I do not think you understand your position,” Haibara snapped. “I am Yu Haibara, son of Lord Akito Haibara, Chief of Treasury—and I am also the sworn kin of Lord Shinjiro and Lady Sumire Geto.”

Using his father’s name felt like swallowing glass, but perhaps Akito was no longer the only one in the family well-versed in manipulation and deceit. At least this once, his name had served some purpose.

Haibara drew his sword—the steel glimmered under dawn's first light—and presented it to the guard, who assessed it with a discerining eye. The pommel bore the crest of House Geto, while the blade was engraved with his name: Yu Haibara. The guard immediately stiffened, casting a glance toward his superior.

“Now that we are in understanding,” Haibara said coldly. “Do not stand in my way. I’ve come to mourn my family.”

“Our apologies, Lord Haibara. You have our deepest condolences,” the soldiers nodded, and without another word gave him a slight bow—gesturing to him to proceed.

As Haibara made his way through the familiar corridors, every step was bogged by the weight of grief, regret, and sorrow. He should have been here. Not that he would have been useful if even Lord Shinjiro had been felled. But at least he could have been with them to the very end. 

Each step brought him closer to the brink, brought him closer to a truth he wasn’t sure if he could survive. How much more could he endure?

Should he just end it here, and be with them?

No.

He had sworn not to be a coward. At the very least, he should see all of them—see it with his own eyes. And then he can decide what to do next…

“I need a report on the bodies recovered,” Haibara demanded, stopping one of the soldiers in the corridor. 

“Y-Yes, Lord Haibara,” one of the soldiers replied. But his wavering gaze and unsteady breath were enough to tell Haibara that the brutality of this massacre shook even the strongest of men.

As the soldier listed the names one by one, Haibara sank further and further into despair. Lord Shinjiro died a gruesome death—countless stab wounds and arrows to his back. He was found shielding Lady Sumire and Sayuri until the very end. Both Lady Sumire and Sayuri died swiftly. Apparently the killer gave them quick deaths—a merciful kill they said. But there was nothing merciful about this. They had done nothing to incur this heinous atrocity. Haibara couldn’t stomach the details and told the soldier to stop. He didn’t want the images of their final moment engraved in his mind—especially not Sayuri’s death. He just wanted to know if they had suffered or not. And as the soldier finished up the list he realized: Suguru’s body had yet to be discovered. 

Call it instinct, or a brotherly bond, but he felt it in his very core: Suguru was still alive, somewhere. And he needed to find him quick, before anyone else did. Without wasting another second, Haibara began to walk towards a secluded area of the estate, his heart beating rapidly.

Logically speaking, by now, the entirety of the estate should be swept—so if they hadn’t found Suguru yet, it was safe to assume that he had gone somewhere obscure. 

Somewhere easy to miss. 

Like Sayuri’s hidden tea garden.

It was a small area that she had cleared in the courtyard—hidden behind bushes. Her safe haven, as she liked to call it. For when she wanted to hide herself away from the world, read her books, and enjoy sweet treats. It was a secret that she had only revealed to Suguru and Haibara, as her most trusted confidants. 

Please be there, Suguru, he silently begged.

As Haibara approached the area, he noticed two unfamiliar bodies. 

Were they servants of House Geto?

But as he looked closer at their uniform, he realized they couldn’t be—because he didn’t recognize the all-black attire. 

Perhaps they were the assassins?

Did Suguru take them down?

As Haibara continued to track behind the vibrant patches of green, he noticed the blood streaks trailing into the bush.

There was no doubt. Suguru was there. 

He quickly wove his way through the bushes, and there he was laying face down on the ground with deep wounds. His blade was still clutched in his hands. 

He never yielded, even when his body broke down. 

With trembling hands, Haibara reached out, searching for breath.

Please, live, he chanted over and over again like a silent prayer.

You must live, Suguru.

And then he felt it.

It was shallow, to a point where it could have easily been swept with the gentle breeze of the wind. But there was no denying it, he was still alive. 

Haibara nearly broke down right there and then, but there was no time. Each second was precious. Each second dragged him closer to the edge of death. 

“Suguru,” he whispered. 

He remained unresponsive. 

Immediately springing into action, he tore the fabric of his clothes—trying to wrap up any large injuries. As he was tying up one of the wounds, a hand reached out to him, nearly causing him to yell. 

“They…” Suguru said with a strained breath. “They can’t… be trusted…”

They?

What was he talking about? 

Was he perhaps delirious from losing too much blood?

“I’ll get you out of here, I swear it, Suguru.” 

“Do not let them… see you…”

Then, he fell out of consciousness. 

…

After Suguru’s warning, Haibara somehow managed to slip through the Geto Estate undetected, and returned home. 

Akito’s face drained of color when he saw Haibara carrying a battered, barely recognizable Suguru through the entrance.

“What are you doing, Yu?!” 

Haibara ignored his father and rushed to his room with Suguru still on his back 

“Call the physician—now.” He commanded, desperation bleeding through his voice.

“No! I will not! Why didn’t you just leave him there?!” Akito protested, urgently trailing behind his son. “This is clearly an omen! Surely, the Geto family must have incurred the gods’ wrath!”

Time and time again, Akito proved himself a heartless bastard. Yet, he shouldn’t have expected any less from this bottom-feeding scum. However, now wasn’t the time for arguments—Haibara needed his father’s cooperation.

“Don’t be so short-sighted, Father,” Haibara said, sliding open the bedroom door with urgency and carefully setting Suguru on his bed. 

“Think about it—he’s now the sole survivor of House Geto.” He locked eyes with his father.

“You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into! What if the assassins come for us?!” Akito was hysterical. His hands trembled, fear finally breaking through his usual conceited demeanor.

He was scared. 

Good. Now, he would prey on that fear, the same way his father always had. 

This would be the last time. Like father, like son he shall be. 

“Have you grown complacent after becoming Chief?” 

“That’s not true—”

“I thought better of you, Father. I never expected your ambitions to be so… shallow.”

Akito grumbled. His ambitions were shallow? Never! 

“This is different! You don't know what you're getting all of us into!”

“Do you think you would be safe after all this, Father? Think about it, now that Lord Shinjiro—the man who vouched for your current position—is gone. What’s not to say that your position as Chief would soon be given to someone else?”

There was a brief pause, and as much as Akito loathed to admit it, his son had brought up a valid point. When had he become so cowardly and short-sighted?!

“Then what do you suggest?” 

Haibara smirked, spotting the greed glinting in his father’s eyes. A glow Akito couldn’t hide even if he tried.

“We make him owe us—owe you, father. He has no family, no one to turn to—so naturally, he will turn to you, his savior.”

Akito began to nod, the gears already turning before the words had even fully settled. In the face of opportunity, he never hesitated. Covetousness flowed through him like blood—vital, instinctive, endless. 

“If he survives this, you will have all of House Geto under your thumb. And you will be revered among the court as a man of integrity. Lord Shinjiro’s trusted friend, the savior of his only kin. And that House Geto was only able to survive, because of Akito Haibara, the honorable Chief of Treasury.”

There was a moment of silence, but Haibara already knew he had his father right where he wanted. As wicked as his father was, at least he was predictable. His greed and selfishness made him ironically easy to manipulate.

“My son…” Akito’s eyes glimmered, as he gave him a strong pat on the arm. “You have grown to be a brilliant man! I see you are indeed intelligent and wise, just like your old man!” 

The compliment felt more like an insult. And his smile only made the rage inside him simmer. 

“Of course, Father. I only learn from the greatest of minds,” he smiled and leaned in. “But we must make sure this does not get out. Otherwise, others will try to steal your glory like vultures.”

Akito grinned and nodded with grotesque enthusiasm. Only a man like him could still manage to find gold among bones. He wasted no time and sprang into action. He ordered the servants to tend to Suguru, stationed guards outside his room, and summoned only the best physicians.

“I want to make sure not even a strand of this boy’s hair is lost!” He barked with urgency.

“Prepare the warmest and healthiest meals with haste!”

“Summon Physician Masashi immediately!” 

“I want two guards stationed by the door at all times, and one guard standing watch inside!”

“Be sure not a single word gets out that the head of House Geto is here, or I’ll have your tongues!”

Servants all scrambled as Akito took matters into his own hands. 

It was always the heartless ones that could act so convincingly. 

He had never understood why Lord Shinjiro had decided to help elevate his father’s career. But now, seeing him take charge so efficiently, Haibara grudgingly admitted his father could be competent when it suited him.

Regardless, Haibara harbored no resentment at this moment, because he had gained what he needed out of this: a second wind for Suguru. 

—

3 days later…

Everything was cold and dark.

He was sinking into an endless black sea. All he could hear was the burbling of water. He wasn’t sure how long he had been freefalling. Time and space seemed to warp in this realm, but as time passed, he slowly grew accustomed to the perpetual darkness. It became oddly comfortable, even.

Is this what the afterlife looked like?

Just an endless abyss of nothingness?

Or was he being condemned for making his sister cry? 

He was supposed to apologize to her. In fact, he was about to—he didn’t want her to go to bed misunderstanding him. It had never been his intention to say something so callous.

The more he thought about his sister’s words, the more he realized that she was just… scared. 

And there was no sin, no shame in fear. 

Because that night, he too had been afraid.

Fear gripped him when he heard the blood curdling scream from outside his study room. 

Terror washed over him when he armed his sword to his hips and stepped outside to find the courtyard already painted in crimson and gore. 

Anxiety coiled around his body when he tried to make his way to his family and protect them.

Dread loomed over when a group of assassins intercepted him and he finally had to arm himself to kill.

Horror devastated him when he sunk his blade into two of them, but was dealt a fatal blow from behind. 

Despair consumed him when his world began to fade to black… because he knew he’d never have a chance to properly reconcile. 

He was scared that she would never forgive him.

Suddenly, a harsh light ripped him from the black sea. And that was when he realized…

He had survived.

He’s awake. Someone call the physician immediately! A muffled voice said.

He still felt a bit disoriented. But he soon realized it was Haibara’s voice. 

“Suguru!” His good friend called. 

Yet in this moment, he couldn’t think of anything except for Sayuri, Mother, Father. 

“Haibara.” His voice rasped as he mustered the strength to grab his friend. “Where is my family?”

Haibara didn’t need to say anything for Suguru to understand—the look of despair on his friend’s face said it all: they were gone.

Damn it.

Why didn’t he go with them?!

Why was he the only one to live?!

Why must the universe be so cruel?!

He laid there, numb and devoid of emotions, Haibara explained to him what had happened. How he immediately rode to his residence when he heard of his family’s demise. How he had miraculously found him in Sayuri’s tea garden. How he had been in a coma for three days. 

What will he ever do now—now that all he’s ever known and cherished is gone?

How could he move on?

It was impossible. 

The pain was unlike anything he had ever felt before, so much so that it became numb.

And then that numbness eventually prickled.

And then it turned hot.

And then it became scorching rage. 

A heaviness settled in the room. Haibara had sent everyone out.

“It was King Sato,” Suguru finally muttered.

Haibara’s eyes widened. “King Sato—why? A-are you sure?”

Suguru nodded. His eyes were hollow, but rimmed with unshed tears. 

All these years, Haibara had never seen Suguru cry. Even now, his best friend was stubbornly holding onto his tears. Nobody would have blamed him for crying, his entire family had just been murdered in cold blood. 

“There were talks of a rebellion,” he let out a shaky breath. “I heard it in passing a few nights ago... before the attack.

“They wanted to make my father king—but he didn’t want it! He never asked for it!” Suguru’s voice cracked. “Even if they handed my father the crown, he would have never taken it!” 

The dam within Suguru broke. He faltered, and agonizing sobs filled the room. The pain, the grievance, the injustice—it was all palpable.

The revelation was earthshattering.

Haibara’s entire body trembled with rage, sorrow, but also… with fear. Because if it were true, then this was no simple agenda. 

This wasn’t the work of mere enemies.

This was an execution order from the crown itself.

He had heard of rumors and read in some historical texts that every monarch throughout history had something called a Shadow Division. As the name implies, those among this covert group lived in the shadow of the king who appointed them. And their duties ran anywhere between espionage to assassinations—essentially, anything the crown wanted hidden from the world.

Like specters, nobody knows who they are, what they looked like, how they were recruited. Apparently, even among the group itself, it was entirely possible that they didn't know who their fellow members were. They were all discreetly enlisted by the king—and they died with their king.

That would explain two of the unidentified bodies wearing unrecognizable uniforms, found near Suguru.

Surely, there will be repercussions. 

Surely, King Sato would not sit idly by while the heir of House Geto remained undiscovered.

No… there must be a way to survive all this. Because fate—although cruel—had allowed Suguru to live. 

“I’ll kill that bastard who took my family—who took everything from me!” Suguru seethed.

Haibara’s heart beat violently in his chest. Suguru was not just pointing his sword at anyone, he was pointing it at the crown. 

It was utter suicide. 

This would not be what his family had wanted.

But the unyielding look in Suguru’s eyes said it all: there was no stopping him. There was only vengeance. Only pure hatred. It was an inferno that could never be extinguished. And perhaps, the only thing fueling him at this very moment to live. 

There was no doubt, if Haibara left Suguru in his current state, he would have just marched straight through the palace and gotten killed by the royal guards before he even had a chance of touching King Sato. 

Suguru needed a voice of reason, someone to steady his feet, someone to ground him.

Or how else was he going to exact his revenge?

A part of Haibara, too, wanted revenge.

He took a deep breath, and closed his eyes. Trying to think of the next move on the board.

Together, they will endure this.

Together, they will survive this. 

There were no guarantees, but he will have to roll the dice and leave the rest up to fate. And should it be the universe's will to have the two die in the process? Then so be it. At least the five of them can reunite again then, which wouldn’t be so terrible.

There was nothing to lose at this point. 

“We will hold a funeral for your family first—a funeral of the century,” Haibara said steadily. 

“What would that change? It wouldn’t bring them back, Haibara!” Suguru looked up at him, fury in his eyes. “And you want to have their deaths paraded among the very ones who wished for their demise?!”

“I implore you to think, Suguru,” Haibara gritted his teeth. “I loathe the thought just as much. But if King Sato, and whoever else, truly wants your family gone—it means they’re still after you. They will want your silence. They will want you cowering in fear.”

Suguru’s fists balled so tightly it drew blood. 

But Haibara was right.

If they remained in hiding, they would be playing right into their hands. It would only be a matter of time before King Sato sent assassins his way again, and he was certain, this time they would finish the job without issues. 

He must solidify his stance. He must make it so he becomes hard to ignore, and that his absence would be noticed, questioned, and could even cause a revolt. 

He must swallow it all down. He must prevail. 

He must display courage. 

He shall walk through hellfire to ensure Sato’s inglorious death.

Suguru looked up, voice tremoring with wrath. “Then let’s give my family the honor and glory of a lifetime.”

Haibara gave a firm nod. Their wills refortified. 

“Then from this moment on, Geto-sama, let me—Yu Haibara—be your first ally. 

Your eyes, where you cannot see. 

Your ears, where you cannot hear. 

Your voice, when you cannot speak. 

Your mind and heart, when you cannot judge.

My allegiance shall be to House Geto, before all else.” 

Without hesitation, Suguru accepts. 

“Yu Haibara, you honor me with your allegiance. From here on out, I shall entrust you with my life. You shall become my brother in arms, my All-Seeing Advisor.”

Henceforth, Haibara shall no longer be shackled by the shadow of his father. His intelligence and blade shall be sharp, but with grace. It would be used for good—to protect. Just as Lord Shinjiro had done for him many years ago. 

Suguru will never be alone again. He will be his watcher. 

—

The day of the funeral processions commenced, Suguru did not shed a single tear and stood there, unmoving, like a soldier on guard. There was no anger, no sorrow, only a numbness accompanied by slight paranoia. Across the sea of mourners, he couldn’t help but try to discern who were the ones that were secretly rejoicing at his family’s demise, and who were genuinely mourning their deaths. 

Akito Haibara shamelessly pushed to the front, weeping on his knees like the fraud he was, loudly professing how beloved a friend Shinjiro had been. His acts were so grossly performative, that Haibara couldn’t stand another second, and waved to a guard to usher him away. And as they plucked Akito off the ground, he continued to hold steadfast onto his performance to the very end, wailing, sobbing, and calling out Shinjiro’s name. 

Don’t trust any of them. They all wanted your family dead. The thoughts wound through Suguru’s mind, threatening to corrupt like poisoned tendrils.

It was all too overwhelming. He just wanted this to be over soon.

How he managed to keep a blank face when King Sato approached him was beyond Suguru’s comprehension. Perhaps he had already disassociated. Nevertheless, it was something he would need to master if he wanted to exact his revenge.

And then, just for a fleeting moment, something unexpected happened.

His eyes found a father and daughter standing quietly at the far end of the crowd. If it hadn’t been for his naturally keen eyes, he might have missed it. But as soon as his eyes landed on you, the intrusive whispers vanished in an instant.

How strange. 

Though he didn’t know then how your fates would intertwine, and he would have long forgotten this moment by the time the two of you met again. At the time, he silently thanked you for giving him a moment of reprieve.

A chance to breathe again.

—

A year later… 

Shortly after the funeral, Haibara abandoned Akito overnight and began his new life serving under House Geto. During this time, Suguru and Haibara worked tirelessly to revitalize the Geto Estate, and vetted out loyal servants.

Their first political gamble had been successful; there had been no further assassination attempts since the funeral. Perhaps, it was Lord Shinjiro, Lady Sumire, and Sayuri’s way of watching over them. Whatever it may be, they had to stay vigilant. There was no room for complacency. 

It may surprise some that Suguru chose to remain on the very grounds where his family had been massacred. But for Haibara, who had been there from the beginning and had become a part of their family, he too, wouldn’t have abandoned this place. 

The Geto Estate was a sacred place that should be remembered and celebrated, not reduced to a haunted ground of tragedy. 

Of all that had been destroyed, the cherry blossom tree that Lord Shinjiro gifted to his beloved wife survived. That alone stood as a testament to their enduring legacy. 

One afternoon, a royal messenger came knocking on the front gates of the Geto Estate. 

“A letter to the kin of Akito Haibara,” the messenger said, handing the scroll to Haibara, who received it with both hands.

And as he returned to Suguru’s office and read its contents, he couldn’t help but let out an exasperated laugh. 

The universe truly had its strange sense of justice.

To the kin of Akito Haibara, It is the Royal Palace’s utmost regret to inform you that your father, Akito Haibara, has passed. According to the palace physician, he contracted multiple brothel illnesses and was found deceased in his estate. In light of this disgrace, His Majesty has seen fit to posthumously revoke your father’s title as Chief of Treasury. Furthermore, it has been decreed that his next of kin shall not be granted the privilege of serving within the palace. Akito’s ashes are currently held at the Royal Crematory Hall. Should they remain unclaimed within seven days’ time, they shall be discarded. House of Civil Affairs By Royal Decree of His Majesty, King Sato

“What’s so amusing?” Suguru asked, an eyebrow arched.

Haibara handed him the letter. As Suguru’s eyes trailed the words, he let out a scoff.

“What do you intend to do?” He passed the letter back.

Haibara shrugged and threw the parchment into the brazier. 

“Nothing.”

Life indeed worked in mysterious ways. For all the pain, suffering, and chaos that Akito Haibara had wrought, this quiet ending seemed the most befitting way for him to go. One where he would not be remembered, honored, or mourned… 

Reduced to nothing but dust, and blown away with time.

.

.

.

Present Day

Over the years, the two sailed through turbulent waves, and faced countless trials and tribulations. But through it all, their bond remained strong. It goes without saying that Haibara would lay down his life for Suguru without hesitation. Yet it’d also be a lie to say that there weren’t moments of doubt.

Was their path to vengeance reasonable? 

Would they ever succeed?

It had been exactly ten years since they began working within the shadows—trying to find an opportunity to overthrow King Sato. Still, there was a final piece missing. Haibara could see that Suguru was growing impatient. But something had shifted lately—an undercurrent in the air, as if revolution was nigh.

Suguru didn’t need many allies, but he needed someone who was powerful in their own right. Someone who would not bow down to the crown so easily. Someone who will not cower in fear. Someone who could turn the tides of war.

Someone like you.

Haibara let out a small sigh as he glanced toward the palace courtyard. A few servant girls passing by giggled and waved. He returned his signature smile and politely nodded, garnering timid gasps and gushes. Even amid the beauty, unease still churned quietly within him. Suguru may have successfully evaded a war, but the chasm between you and him had only widened.

It was going to be a long road ahead. He feared that the path to reconciliation would not be an easy one. But it was during these trying times that it was Haibara’s time to shine. 

He had full confidence that you, Lady Geto, would not crumble so easily. And that Suguru will make things right—he always had. 

And as the All-Seeing Advisor, whose allegiance is to House Geto, Haibara will not falter. Suguru may not have realized it yet, but Haibara knew from the very beginning: you were his perfect match. He had known it since the day you stepped off the carriage and took your first steps through the front doors of the Geto Estate. The way you were nervous, but your eyes still glimmered with hope. The way you remained dignified and determined, even in the face of injustice and obstacles. The way you were strong and intelligent, but used it to protect and not to gain. 

Courageous. Honorable. Indomitable. 

They were all qualities that House Geto represented. There was no doubt that Lord Shinjiro, Lady Sumire, and Sayuri would have welcomed you with open arms, adoring you as their own.

Haibara may serve as Suguru’s right hand until the day he dies, but his loyalty had always begun with Lady Sumire.

The woman who showed him safety.

The woman who showed him kindness.

The woman who showed him unconditional love.

The woman who helped him realize…

It’s not your fault, Yu.

Writing © xechu - please do not redistribute, translate, or repost any of my works.

Taglist: @katsukiseyebrows @uzuimirika @saoirses-things @what-just-happened-to-me @exitingmusic @vellichor01 @miacakess @webyueve

[snowysosturn]

Allies or Affiliates? - Chris Sturniolo Part 7

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Finale

Pairing : Y/n x Chris Sturniolo

Summary : Law student Y/n’s life takes a turn when she reconnects with Chris, her brief teenage flame who is now a dealer for a dangerous Boston drug gang. As their bond reignites, Y/n is drawn into Chris’s tumultuous world, where rival gangs clash and loyalty is everything. Balancing her love for Chris with her own ambitions, can their connection survive the chaos that threatens to pull them apart?

Warnings : MDNI, mentions of drugs, taking drugs, smoking weed, angst, mentions of shooting, drinking, cursing, partying

Chris’ POV

I jolted awake, groggy and disoriented as my phone screen glowed in the darkness. The clock read 2:04 a.m., and a notification flashed: 

Nate: “????” 

He’d been texting me earlier when I was at Y/n’s. "Yo, you got any weed left? Ran out over here." I didn’t want to just leave her abruptly again so I ignored the message at the time, but it sounds like he's strung out right now. I glanced over at Y/n, fast asleep, and my chest tightened. She looked so peaceful, so safe. 

Carefully, I slipped out of her bed, trying not to wake her. After everything tonight, how easy it was to slip back into things, even so much that we fell asleep together, I didn’t want her to think I was sneaking out without a word, so I left her a note on top of her college books:

"Didn’t want to overstay my welcome, but I didn’t want to wake you, either. See you tomorrow at the party."

With one last look, I pulled her balcony door open and stepped out into the quiet night.

When I got to the car, I texted Nate back: I’ll be at your place in 20 mins.

The drive to meet him was quick, the streets empty at this time of night. When I pulled up to Nates, he was already waiting, leaning against his car. He looked up as I approached, his expression casual, but I knew him well enough to see the exhaustion in his eyes.

“Yo, what’s up?” I asked, handing him a bag from my pocket.

“Appreciate it, man. You saved my night.” Nate replied with a tired smile, taking the bag and walking toward the side gate of his house. I followed him out back and lit a joint that I already pre rolled , taking a long drag before exhaling. Nate joined me, rolling his own joint with the weed I’d just given him. For a minute, we stood in silence, the smoke swirling around us in the cool night air.

“So.. how was tonight?” Nate finally asked, glancing over at me with a smirk.

I knew what he was asking without needing clarification. “It was good” I said, a smile pulling at my lips as I thought back to my time with Y/n. “Really good, actually. Y/n invited me to this party tomorrow night” I started, watching him out of the corner of my eye. “Some college thing.”

Nate raised an eyebrow, smirking a little. “A college party? Since when are you about that scene?”

“Since about.. Three hours ago, I guess.” I chuckled, running a hand through my hair. “It’d just be cool if you came along, you know?”

He took a slow drag, letting the smoke drift into the night air, thoughtful. “You serious? You really want me to tag along to hang out with you and your new girl?”

“She’s not-” I started, but Nate cut me off with a knowing look.

“Alright, alright, not ‘your girl’” he said, smirking. “But she might as well be, judging by the way you’re acting.”

I shrugged, feeling my face warm slightly. He had a point, though I wouldn’t admit it. Y/n wasn’t just anyone, she was different, and being around her felt easy. But I knew Nate had a fair point, too - our lives did mesh with the college crowd, but not in the exact way it did with Y/n’s.

Nate chuckled, finally giving me a nod. “Yeah, fine, I’ll come. Could use a laugh watching you play boyfriend. Plus, someone’s gotta make sure you don’t mess things up too bad.”

I rolled my eyes, shoving his shoulder. “Like you’re the expert on relationships? Her friend Willow is coming too remember her?”

”Remember her?! You should’ve just started with that I would’ve said yes straight away, save yourself the grilling.” Nate exclaimed, I laughed with how excited this seemed to make him.

Nate raised an eyebrow. “All jokes aside, you serious about her?”

I shrugged, but I knew he could see right through me. “I don’t know, man. I guess.. yeah. She’s different.” I paused, feeling the weight of it all, and then I couldn’t help but smile.

Nate took a long drag, exhaling a cloud of smoke into the air. “Look, I get it, but how are you gonna handle this, Chris? You know the kind of life we’re in. You think a girl like her would stick around if she knew the whole truth?”

The question hung in the air, heavy and real. I hated how much he was right. No matter how I tried to spin it, Y/n and I lived in completely different worlds. She was doing things with her life, and here I was, getting dragged deeper into a life I never wanted. And yet, every time I thought about her, I found myself hoping maybe there was a way it could all work out.

"I know it's complicated. But I'm not trying to drag her into anything."

"She's already part of it just by being around you" Nate said, taking another drag. "You need to figure this out before things get serious."

He was right, of course. And yet, how could I just walk away now? "I'll figure it out" I muttered, though I wasn’t sure how. "I'm not letting her go again."

Nate gave me a knowing look. "Just be careful, Chris. You can't have both lives forever."

Y/n’s Pov

When I woke up, I stretched my legs out to feel the other side of the bed cold and empty. I blinked at the morning light streaming in, feeling around, half expecting to find Chris still lying beside me. My mind spun back to last night, and I couldn’t help but wonder if he’d felt any of the same comfort and ease I had. Had he thought about staying?

Then, as I moved to sit up, I noticed a small note resting on my stack of books by the bed. I reached over, picking it up and smiling as I unfolded the paper.

Didn’t want to overstay my welcome, but I didn’t want to wake you, either. See you tomorrow at the party.  – C.

There was a tiny flutter in my chest, and I let myself feel it, just for a moment. He had thought enough to leave a note, something sweet, even careful about it. I ran my fingers over his handwriting, and the thought stayed with me like a pleasant hum as I went through my morning routine.

Despite the excitement of last night, reality called, and my neglected stack of assignments waited, staring at me almost daring me to procrastinate. I settled into the day, tackling each piece of reading and essay with a strange mix of focus and distraction, my mind constantly pulling back to him. The way he’d laughed, his guarded smiles, and his thoughtfulness made me feel like we’d shared something real, even though it was only one night.

By the time I finished my work, it was mid afternoon, and I was feeling both accomplished and relieved. I glanced at my phone, wondering if he’d texted, but instead, I saw a message from Willow.

Willow: “Pregame at mine before the party? Sarah’s coming too.”

I quickly typed back, “Sounds good! Be there around 7.”

After getting ready, I packed my essentials into a small bag, ran a brush through my hair, and threw on jeans and a nice top. I made my way into central Boston and when I finally walked up to Willow’s apartment, I could already feel a buzz in the air. Music played softly in the background as I stepped inside, and the warm scent of Willow’s signature vanilla candles mixed with the distinct whiff of fruity cocktails.

“There she is!” she said, reaching over to pour me a drink. “How’s our little romantic after her date the other night?” She waggled her eyebrows, and I rolled my eyes, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks.

“Relax” I laughed, taking the drink. “He kind left abruptly the other night, said something about work.. but he surprised me last night and made up for it so...”

“One night can be all it takes.” She said, giving me a knowing look. Her hair was up in a messy bun, and she raised her cup to her lips, grinning before taking a sip. “Trust me.”

I chuckled, shaking my head. “I’m taking it slow.”

But the butterflies in my stomach told a different story, and I felt almost embarrassed by how excited I was to see Chris again tonight.

Shortly after, Sarah arrived and the  three of us settled into an easy rhythm, our drinks enhancing our laughter as we caught up on the week and swapped stories. The topic inevitably shifted to party prep, and Sarah held up her cup.

“Alright, tonight is strictly drinks for me. No funny business, no more lines or pills or anything. I need to save money.” She gave a dramatic sigh, her expression half joking, half serious.

Willow shot her a sceptical look, amusement dancing in her eyes. “Im holding you to that! You say it all the time but cave.”

“No I mean it this time!” Sarah declared, clinking her cup with ours. “The comedowns the last few times have been too much.”

Sarah was a free spirit and the ultimate party animal. She never knew when to stop. Once everyone was fucked up from drinking she’d continue on by taking a line or two of coke so she could sober up and keep going, often staying on it till 9am. I never knew how any of these drugs made you feel and I didn’t plan on finding out, I knew people liked to experiment and that was fine, it was personally just never for me.

After another hour of predrinking, swapping stories, and listening to music, we decided it was time to head to Tyler’s party. As we stepped outside, the streets were already buzzing with people heading in the same direction, cars lined up along the road, and faint music pulsing from a distance. Tyler’s house came into view, a massive, stately place that always seemed like it was waiting for moments like this. A few people were already gathered on the front porch, laughing loudly and holding red cups, the bass of the music vibrating through the air even from outside.

The second we walked in, it was like stepping into a different world. The living room was packed, filled with people moving in every direction, chatting, laughing, weaving between one another, with drinks in hand and a thick, dizzying energy filling the space. The unmistakable scent of alcohol mingled with cologne and perfume, and beneath it, something a little stronger that I could only assume was weed or maybe even more. A couple of people shouted greetings as we made our way through, and I could tell Willow and Sarah were in their element.

“Alright, let’s grab some drinks and find a good spot to dance.” Willow said, expertly guiding us through the crowd to the kitchen, which was just as packed. The counters were lined with an assortment of bottles, mixers, and what looked like a never ending pile of red cups.

People kept funnelling in from the street. Tyler’s parties always attracted half the campus, and tonight was no exception. The lights were dim, the music was loud, and people were dancing, shouting, and laughing in every room.

The three of us were dancing when Sarah, who had been standing beside me, suddenly froze. Following her gaze, I noticed her ex boyfriend, Dylan, who had just walked in. He gave her a brief, casual wave, but it was enough to make her tense, her emotions flickering in her eyes, a mix of excitement and vulnerability. She barely spared us a word before she headed toward him, leaving Willow and me alone. 

“She still has feelings for him doesn’t she?” I ask Willow.

“Yeah, he definitely does too.” Willow replies.

We pull our gaze off Sarah and her ex, and soon I spot Chris and Nate as they navigated through the crowd. A wave of excitement swept over me as Chris caught my eye, his face lighting up as he spotted me. He raised his hand in a small wave before weaving his way over with Nate by his side.

“You made it!” I greeted Chris, and he leaned in for a quick hug, his arm squeezing me just a bit before he stepped back.

“Wouldn’t miss a chance to hang out with you” he said, his voice warm and steady.

Nate gave Willow a grin, his eyes lingering a bit longer on her than usual. She caught his gaze, smiling back in a way that suggested she didn’t mind the attention one bit. In the chaos of the party around us, it felt like the four of us were in our own little bubble, everyone else fading into the background. We moved into the living room to try and find a place to sit. The room was chaotic, but it added to the vibe, making it feel like we were part of something wild and unpredictable.

After a little while, Willow nudged Nate and tilted her head toward the staircase. “Wanna check out the view from upstairs?”

Nate raised an eyebrow, smirking as he glanced up at the steps. “Lead the way” he said, following her up with a casual confidence that made me chuckle.

I watched them disappear, giving Willow a teasing smile as she tossed me a wink over her shoulder. Once they were gone, it was just me and Chris. Over the course of an hour our conversation drifted from topic to topic, the laughter coming easily as we shared stories about friends, gossip about people we used to know and the kind of random things that only seemed to happen at parties like this.

“Do you think they’re planning to start a secret society up there?” I joked, nudging Chris playfully.

He chuckled, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “If they do, I want in. I could use a secret handshake. You know, something cool.”

I raised an eyebrow, a smile dancing on my lips. “Like what? You strike me as the type to throw up gang signs.” I laughed. “Actually, have you seen how tense things have been lately with the gangs?

“Yeah, it’s been rough. It’s hard to ignore the tension in the air around the city.” Chris said, becoming more serious.

I bit my lip, glancing around the chaotic party. “The shootings are what freak me out like, what if one of these people we’re surrounded by is somehow tied to it? It’s wild how quickly things can escalate. One minute you’re at a party, and the next, you’re ducking for cover.”

But before the conversation could continue, Willow and Nate returned, both of them looking slightly dishevelled but grinning. Nate gave Chris a quick nod, and they both headed to the kitchen, saying they’d grab drinks for all of us. Willow slipped an arm around my shoulder as soon as they were gone, her eyes sparkling with a mix of excitement and mischief.

“So how was your alone time with Chrissss..” she drawled, giving me a playful nudge. “He’s cute and sweet. What’s not to like?”

I felt a blush creep up my cheeks, my smile impossible to hide. “I know, right? But it’s so early, Willow. I’m scared I’m falling too quickly.”

She rolled her eyes. “Sometimes you just have to let things happen. Quit overthinking it.” She leaned in closer, her tone dropping to a whisper. “Besides, the way he looks at you? Girl, he’s definitely feeling it too.”

“You cant talk though Ms. DissapearingToABedroomForAnHour.” I say, giving Willow a cheeky grin.

“Oh its nothing serious just a bit of fun! I actually never peed after so I need the restroom. Come with me?”

“Sure” I said, following her through the packed hallway, manoeuvring around groups of people laughing and shouting. The crowd only seemed to grow thicker as we approached the bathroom. I was about to knock on the door, but Willow nudged it open without hesitation.

And then, we froze.

Leaning over the bathroom sink was Sarah, clearly in the middle of taking a line. Her eyes widened as she straightened, brushing her nose with the back of her hand as she turned to face us, looking both guilty and defiant.

My mouth dropped open in shock. “Sarah..”

Willow folded her arms, her disappointment evident in the crease of her brows. “Are you serious? you said you weren’t doing this anymore.”

Sarah’s face reddened, and she looked away, avoiding our eyes. “I know, okay? I just.. I don’t know. Dylan had some and he offered. He said he wasn’t going to do it either but he ran into Chris his dealer on the way in here so he was like fuck it why not.”

Chris? His dealer?

There’s no way we’re referring to the same person right now? Are we? 

I suddenly felt heat rise to my face.

Chris walked into the party right behind Dylan.

a/n : CATS OUT THE BAG

taglist: @mattybearnard @sturn-33 @ncm9696 @yourfavsturniologirl @crazy4jewel @sodakid1234 @stupendoustreewinner @lovealwayssturniolos @matthewsturniolosss @m4ttsmunch @loveexxx @ilusa @starkeyszn @wonnieeluvvr @dylnblue @valxrieq @maggot3647 @cigarettecemetary @ribread03 @chrisstvrns @bandasaruswrx @noplaceissafeanymore @amexiass @witchofthehour @mattssgf @jetaimevous @v33angel @ivysturnss @urmom69lol @ashlishes @watercolorskyy @sturnioloshottiekay @amelia-sturniolo3 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @pvssychicken @alizestvrnss @lvrsturniolo @slutniolo @spaghetti835928383 @marrykisskilled @sturnsxplr-25 @bxtchboy69 @vickytaa @anikaistg @matts-girlfriend @lvrsturniolo o

[dereks-unrelenting-heart]

SFTH Chaotic Highlights (Sorry About My Nan)

Briefly posting these out of order because I am way too fixated on this play. It has the psychological horror of a cult, one of Tom's eldritch villains, and dark humor, this shit was made for me-

The few minutes of vague trauma recounting as Sam and AJ internally debate which of them is gonna drop any information at all

As well as who the grandson of the title Nan is going to be, because I feel like Sam was ready for the role at first with the 'that was embarrassing'

"I just think it's good when things like this happen just to sit with it for a second, before you.. have a breakdown" Most real thing an AJ character has ever said

Jim asking if his own nan is still alive, whether AJ knew it at the time or not, as if even he was kinda hoping she wasn't

"Who invites their nan on their bachelor party??" Jamie asking the real questions. Unfortunately for him, this is the least weird thing that's going to happen on this stag do

Luke finally gets to experience the joys of playing a chaotic farm animal

They've had plenty of problems with names before, but idk if I've ever seen two actors try to give a character a name at the same time until now

Hey what the FUCK did Ethel do to Big Jim Clive's wallet?? WHAT WAS HER SHOW?!

Yet another instance of Luke's minor characters being incredibly well done- Like everything he says sound genuinely mortified

"I just feel shattered, you know?" I'm using this. You ca take this line from my cold, dead hands, it's how I'm describing every minor inconvenience in my life from now on

Also it was funny and all, but Sam was fucking dying like it was a joke from earlier in the show or something-

Anyway #JusticeForBigJimClive #AndHisWallet

"Listen, I've stood by you for a lot, but that?? I just don't understand.." - the man who's about to go through a cult initiation for his 'best friend'

"Are you my best friend?" Jim is the only one who would feel the need to ask this question at this point

Tom's using the shirt around his waist to symbolize Ethel flashing Jamie is some great stagecraft, I must say

It's the 'nanananana' build-up to an anticlimactic 'ethel' for me

Had to google what an air tag was, but yeah those are pretty big to spike a drink with

We never did get clarification for why Ethel said the wedding was her big day

Rip headphone users for AJ's "I KNOW" I forgot about it for the rewatch and fucking OW MY EARS-

"It's pre-used" Don't eat the bacon, Jamie. I repeat, DO NOT EAT THE BACON

"THANK GOD" "She- what do you mean thank god?" "Sorry, I mean oh god.. thank you" I said enough about this in another post but someone get Jamie tf out of here

"You've got so many teeth" Jericho flashbacks

I've made a post now on the Lucy/Julie thing, but to summarize, idc that she changed her name at the end, I will always call her Julie. It feels disrespectful not to-

"Listen, listen- She's asleep!" Jamie was not convinced of that. He just didn't want Jim to inject her with adrenaline to bring her back again. I see right through you, Jamie-

I just wanna know when exactly the first thought of 'Ethel is a cult leader' happened. Because there's a pretty good chance it was Luke when he said there was a statue dedicated to her

Okay on rewatch, that was definitely the moment. Luke knew what he was doing to the plot

I'm convinced that Luke saw Sam playing all these problem causing animal characters and thought 'fuck it I want in', resulting in this play's sheep scene. He is having the time of his life being a sheep, getting to chew on Tom's shirt and shit. He is laughing his ass off while causing problems for his other character. I love watching the boys have fun-

I know it's because he's brainwashed, but I fucking love Luke's german farmhand character being the only one in the room who is not only comfortable around Ethel, but actively excited to see her

Ethel calling the farmhand 'good boy' is the second time in a row Luke has been called that during a longform

"She seems happy here, why don't we just leave her with this guy?" Honestly a great idea, why would anyone be against this

Stag. stag. stag. STAG. STAG. STAG.

"Not one seat each" Why was my first thought not them sitting on each others' lap, but sharing the chair half-and-half, like two people fighting over a seat in musical chairs

"Be a good mate" "You're really pushing that" Is he, Jamie? You're about to willingly go through so much for him, is sharing a seat really pushing it for you?? Pining gays istg-

"I'm here for my best friend's stag do. I will do what he wants to do for the rest of the weekend, and then we will move on." Buddy. I am not doing that shit for my best friend. You are in love.

"It's like an A24 film" Big thank you to Sam, for being the reason they all leant into that theme for the rest of the show

"My name.. Is WILHELM." Jamie, exasperated: "... great."

The fact only the subtitlers acknowledged Sam repeatedly calling them 'numchucks'

"I think he wants us to fight" "WHY? Why do you go to that??" To be fair, my mind also went to that..

Jim: *tries to kill Jamie* Jamie: *doesn't attack him back and is entirely undeterred in his loyalty/friendship* I know what you are

"Wilkommen.. To the Cabaret!!" And just like that all the musical theater nerds lost their minds

I haven't even seen Cabaret, but I've heard the first song and immediately knew and was thrilled about what he was doing

Nah Tom was right in this instance, Sam he had a German accent and everything ofc this isn't Ethel

I like the subtle acting of Jamie saying 'NO!' to the request, and when Jim follows it up with the next word, Jamie looks at him with a very distinct 'you're doing this?' expression. Bro looks more betrayed than when Jim tried to murder him

Emcee living for the drama is so real

Emcee casually sitting on his stage partner's corpse as well as offering him the microphone

"Me neither" the audience laughs but like. That was incredibly unsettling.

"How's the best man?" Very suspicious thing to ask, Fake Julie

"I love you and I always have.. And I would never betray you" Okay but you didn't say you pwomise him, so I'm hesitant to believe you

Jamie's "Are we in Bristol??" to "WE'RE NOT IN BRISTOL!" pipeline

So.. am I the only one who thought Jamie was talking to Julie in the ending scene before Sam clarified he was her mother?

Ethel throwing her shirt onstage with her little 'eh!' noise is so funny

"For convincing me to invite your nan to my bachelorette party" INSANE THING TO AGREE TO JULIE

She's also horribly suited for cult brainwashing wtf did you set her up for Jim-

Also just noticed yet another parallel between Jamie/Jim and Amanda/Clarissa, with the same actor who played the ignored love interest also playing the role of priest at the wedding

Luke immediately going for the bridal hold in AJ's arms and being so content there

Conclusion: It really would've been better for everyone involved if Jamie got together with Jim instead. Jim doesn't have the girl who came onto his best friend, Jamie gets to be with his crush, and Julie doesn't have to change her name to Lucy. And Luke is very good at playing brainwashed cultists, which is the exact reason I'm excited to see his episode of Black Mirror. Oh, also I really hope this longform continues getting the attention it deserves, it's so fucking good

[rickortyweek]

Hello everyone! Happy Valentine’s Day!

For Valentines this year I thought I would bring you 2 gifts:

1. I am pleased to inform you that the Rickorty Week 2025 will run from Sunday, June 15th, to Saturday, June 21st.

I know this is a little earlier than I usually inform you guys, but I thought y’all would appreciate the extra time. As always, all forms of fanwork are accepted as long as they’re of your own making, and the prompts are subject to your own interpretation. Don’t forget to use #rickortyweek2025 within the first five tags of your post so I can see it!

June 15

Mafia AU | Different First Meeting

June 16

Betrayal | "You really are a good grandson, you know that? I'm proud of you."

June 17

All I Wanted by Allie Goertz | Actors AU

June 18

Accidental Hero | Home

June 19

“It’s only a matter of time before he learns you’re a creepy little Grandpa’s boy.” | Oleander by Mother Mother

June 20

Band AU | Breaking Up & Making Up

June 21

Resemblance | Free Day!

I hope everyone has fun with the creating period!

2. In the meantime, I have also decided to just leave the Rickorty Holidays Collection open all year round! that’s gonna be our low-stakes event. You won’t have time pressing down on you, and you have the opportunity to use it whenever you want as long as holidays are involved. Same rules apply, so make sure to check them out.

Do not hesitate to reach out if you need further clarification on anything!

Rules | AO3 Collection | Ask Box

[truths33k3r4]

Hey, guys!! I saw @angellustrates post this earlier and I thought it would be a really fun challenge for me to keep practicing with expressions. (ALSO clarification- she's the one who made it!) :)

Soooo this here list of various emotions is for you to peruse, and then pick which one you want based on the letter and number, connected to one (or two) of my own turtles. :) You can send your requests to my Ask Box. Then I'll draw them and post them with a tag to the person who requested it! (As long as they're not anon that is.)

In case you're curious, here are the turtles you can pick!

Leonardo~ Team Leader, Realist, and gentle Medic

The twins:

Raphael~ Team Strategist, Pessimist, and stressed out Protector

Donatello~ Team Brain, Pessimist, and diligent Provider

Lotus~ (hasn't found her role in the team yet), Pessimist, and weary Survivor

Michelangelo~ (hasn't found his role in the team yet), Optimist, and vibrant Creator

I'm excited to see what you guys come up with! Have fun with it! ;)

~ Melissa

[the-kr8tor]

Hi I love your fics!!! Can you do one for the twins au where Ramona and Billie are maybe 4 or 5 and they start to notice Hobies British accent and start talking like him and saying British phrases. Like he asks them something and they just go “nah bruv” or there are just little instances throughout there day to day lives that reader and Hobie start to notice, where they use his slang at different moments at home, at the store, and it all comes to a head at school (cue parent teacher conference cause they asked a “kid are you mad bruv” and the teacher needs clarification lol). They’re able to watch a recording of their interaction during playtime with the student like you know how some schools have cameras where you can watch your kid now. Him and reader are surprised at how well they imitate his accent and try not laugh in front of the teacher but they tell them they can’t repeat everything daddy says and when readers not looking gives them a little proud wink and they giggle lol!!

Thank you for the adorable request! I changed it up a bit hope you don't mind ❤️❤️❤️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, Mom! Reader, Dad! Hobie, Billie and Ramona AU, Twin AU, fluff.

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

You feel like a kid again sitting on the tiny, clearly not for adults chair. The classroom smells of crayons and glue, the walls are painted in every color of the rainbow, posters of numbers, letters and animals are taped on the walls. Flitting your eyes behind you to check on Billie and Mona, you see them build a house using blocks, mumbling to each other. They're wearing matching sweaters today (per their request,) bees and flowers adorning the thick fabric. And ribbons in their pretty hair. Mona rambles on to her sister about lego whilst her sister listens.

Hobie sits next to you, he doesn't look any better than you. With his long legs and arms, half of his body is the only part of him sitting on the pink plastic chair. Butt half hanging on the side, legs tucked, arms around his legs, back slouched— you bite your lip at the sight, trying your best not to laugh at his state.

Hobie senses your snicker, and you feel like you're back in school again when you quickly turn your head away, pretending you weren't looking at his lanky self struggling to sit on a kindergartener's chair.

He narrows his eyes, taking the teacher's erasure off her desk, flinging it towards your direction– hitting you right on your head. It bounces off and you gasp at the audacity. Faking innocence, Hobie whistles a nonchalant tune, eyes pretending to scan the poster of the alphabet tacked on the chalkboard.

“Really?” You say, smiling through it whilst picking up the fallen eraser.

“You started it.” The father of your children teasingly says as if his girls aren't just behind him playing blocks. Way to set an example.

“Nuh-uh”

“Yu-uh”

You threaten to toss the eraser at his smug face. He shields himself with his arms, chuckling under it. The door opens and you two straighten up, putting back the stationary on the teacher's table like nothing happened.

You definitely feel like you're a kid again.

“Sorry I'm late.” She apologizes, yellow dress swinging as she speed walks towards her table. “Lots of parents, so sorry.”

“That's alright,” you smile at the preppy woman, your hands on your knees, all prim and proper in front of your girls' favourite teacher.

Billie and Ramona had a hard time adjusting to school, but once Ms. Jenkins got them out of their shell, they would always ask you and Hobie if there's school the next day, or what kind of lunch they'll have for recess because their new friends apparently don't like raisins. They love to share, just as long as they eat theirs. So you always pack extras for their friends even though either you or Hobie have to wake up earlier than usual.

You like Ms. Jenkins, she's bubbly and awfully good at her job. One time Billie got sick and couldn't go to school, she personally contacted you to ask how she's doing and even got the entire class to make ‘get well soon’ cards for her. She's a sweetheart really, and most definitely likes your kids. But what has you nervously pick at your nails is that she called you and Hobie in personally for a PTA meeting. Her little note is stapled on the school's notice about the annual meeting, indicating that she needs to talk to you and Hobie.

Said man, scooches his chair closer to yours just to hold your hand while Ms. Jenkins settles on her own chair.

“So Billie and Ramona—” she starts and you hear the girls stand up abruptly from their equally tiny chairs.

“Present!” They cheerfully exclaim at the same time.

Hobie chuckles in his seat, “you run a tight ship, miss.”

“It's alright, my loves, go play.” You say in between soft laughs as you twist in your seat to look at their smiling faces. It all makes Hobie squeeze your hand tight—love overflowing through every squeeze.

Ms. Jenkins laughs, “they love attendance time, I always see them hyping themselves up before I call them.”

“Adorable.” You coo.

“So back to business,” she clasps her hands atop the desk. “Their grades are phenomenal, I know they're still just babies and grades don't usually matter in their level, but they're crushing it.”

Hobie gives you a look, wordlessly telling you, ‘we did that’

You nod, silently replying. ‘hell yeah, we did’

“They’re friends with the whole class.” The teacher continues “Yes, it was quite a hurdle for Ramona but she conquered it with the help of Billie. And when Billie needed help with maths, she helped her there without Billie asking for it.” She smiles and you feel sunshine come out of her. “They're the perfect team.”

“That's brilliant then, why the note?” Hobie asks before you could.

“They are a delight to have in class, but—” she winces. “They have been using some…colourful slang recently.”

“Oh no,” You look at Hobie in the corner of your eyes. He shakes his head innocently at your accusation. “Was it a bad word?”

“Not particularly, uh, it's all fine and dandy, like calling their mates ‘bloke’ or ‘bruv’—”

Hobie lets out a snicker, accidentally interrupting the teacher with his laugh. You glare secretly at him.

“Right, sorry, not funny at all.” He tries to save face. “Continue, Miss.”

“It's alright that they use it but I find that they've been using it more frequently and just last week they disrupted class when they uh…” Ms. Jenkins leans closer, elbows propped on her desk, whispering her words like a secret. “Yelled during movie time to say ‘that’s the dog's bollocks’ in reference to the amazing animation.”

Hobie looks like he's dying whilst trying his hardest not to laugh. Hands clasped on his mouth, shoulders shaking, lungs wheezing and eyes tightly shut. You swear, you even see a tear clinging to his lashes.

You're not the greatest example either as you tightly press your lips together, also trying your darndest to not laugh.

You try to keep your composure even though Hobie's practically losing it next to you. Even Ms. Jenkins hides her grin.

“I'm so sorry—” you accidentally let out a giggle before inhaling deeply to tamp it down. “We'll talk to them once we get home.” Your stomach hurts from restraining yourself.

“That's great!” She clears her throat, doing better at composing herself than you and Hobie. “That's all, thank you so much for coming! There's cookies and juice in the hallway.” Standing up, she holds her hand for a handshake.

You shake her hand while Hobie's still losing it in his seat. “Thank you, Miss, have a great holiday.” You're a bit better at hiding your laughter but if Hobie let out a guffaw right now, you're for sure to follow suit.

“You too!” She smiles, “bye, Bee! Bye, Mona!” Waving her hand, the girls happily wave back.

“Okay, let's go.” You had to lift Hobie up from his seat or else he'll be glued to it while his body wracks with silent laughter.

The second you and your little family settle inside the car, Hobie lets out the loudest laugh, you follow a half second later, the sound echoing in the vehicle.

Billie and Ramona look at you two confused, hands pausing from devouring their snacks.

“I think they're proper bonkers.” Mona whispers, leaning towards her sister, and Billie nods in agreement.

[cyberneticfallout]

Chapter Four: Knight Titus

Ch 1 - Ch 2 - Ch 3 - Ch 4 - Ch 5 - Ch 6 - Ch 7 - Ch 8 - Ch 9 - Ch 10 - More Coming Soon

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Fem!Reader Summary: A chance encounter with the Brotherhood of Steel allows you to escape the gulper and continue your journey. Tags: Slow burn (and I mean SLOWWW), angst, eventual smut, language, canon-typical violence, more tags will be added Posted on AO3: Smoothie and The Ghoul Word Count: 1.4k

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!”

“My lord! I’ve got you! Knight Titus!”

“I’m going in! I got you!”

Muffled shouts and piercing screams echo through the air as the gulper you've been trapped inside starts to emit a deep rumble. Suddenly, the creature violently regurgitates you, along with its stomach and its contents spilling out. Gasping and retching, you find yourself drenched in gulper bile.

"How the hell am I still alive?!" you shout, bewildered. "And why does it have so many damn fingers?!"

"Who are you?" a nervy man asks, clutching the head of the doctor.

"That's my head, give it back!" you demand, reaching for it, only to have your hand swatted away by another man. Looking up, you see a towering Knight of the Brotherhood standing over you.

"Oh, it's the flying garbage can," you remark nonchalantly, recognizing the distinctive power armor of the Brotherhood from the claw marks you had observed when the knight had soared above you a few days earlier.

"Do not show disrespect to my lord! This is Knight Titus of the Brotherhood of Steel! And I am his squire, Thaddeus!" the squire interjects, his voice filled with righteous indignation.

"Shut up, you little weasel," you retort.

"What's a weasel?" Thaddeus mutters to the knight, his confusion evident as he seeks clarification on the insult hurled his way. In response, the knight simply gives a shrug.

"Who are you, and how did you end up inside that gulper?" Knight Titus demands, his voice resonating with authority.

"I don't have time for you tin cans!" you dismissively huff, frustration evident in your voice as you lunge at Thaddeus, causing him to shriek in terror. The dog, miraculously still present, begins barking loudly at the commotion. Amidst the chaos, Knight Titus remains motionless, silently observing the scene.

“My lord! She’s feral!” Thaddeus cries out in fear, clinging to the head.

"Just give me the damn head! And stop squealing like that," you demand, your voice laced with irritation as you mindlessly slap Thaddeus in your disoriented state. As a seasoned bounty hunter, you are typically much more composed and intimidating, but the ordeal of being trapped inside a gulper's stomach has left your mind foggy and your actions uncharacteristically erratic.

You hear heavy footsteps approaching, unmistakably the sound of power armor. Knight Titus lifts you up by the collar of your shirt, leaving you suspended in the air while Thaddeus manages to stand up.

“Why are you so mean?” Thaddeus exclaims earnestly.

“She’s a bounty hunter,” Knight Titus confirms, his tone steady and authoritative as he presumably looks you over. It’s always so hard to tell what those damn Brotherhood Knights are thinking. Without warning, he offers a brief apology before delivering a powerful punch to your face, sending you spiraling into unconsciousness.

Head pounding, you gradually sit up and survey your surroundings, realizing that the two men and the head are nowhere to be seen. Even the dog has skipped out on you, leaving you alone. Luckily, your bag is still with you, and you begin to rummage through it in search of any meds. Upon finding the vials you used to bribe the ghoul, now broken and rendered useless, you let out a frustrated breath. "Yeah, he definitely wasn’t coming back for me," you mutter.

With a sense of relief, you salvage a single stimpak and a supply of rad-away from your bag and use both items. Covered in a grimy mixture of gulper bile, dirt, and dried blood, you realize that it's definitely time for wash. Seeing no signs of any creatures around, you determine you’re in the clear to safely wash.

Without bothering to shed your soiled clothes and armor, reasoning that they could use a good wash as well, you wade into the cool waters of the flooded ruins. The water envelops you, washing away the layers of grime and filth that cling to your skin and clothes. The coolness soothes your aching muscles and clears your mind.

After what feels like an eternity, you emerge from the water, feeling slightly refreshed. As you step out onto the dry soil, the sun begins to set, casting a warm glow over the wasteland. You begin to wonder where the ghoul could’ve gone. He obviously dragged the vault dweller with him and needs more of those vials. Unfortunately the few vials you had you scavenged off of feral ghouls you took down so you truly have no clue where one goes to purchase them.

Your boots squish with every step, a sensation you despise, but there's little you can do about it. Glancing down, you notice that your clothes are worse for wear, prompting you to make a mental note to buy something new, by wasteland standards, at the next settlement you come across. You sort through your bag, discarding any broken or unnecessary items. All that remains is some ammo, a canister of somewhat purified water, a small stash of caps, and the Pip-Boy you seldom use. I wonder if there's a Super Duper Mart nearby, you think to yourself.

Throwing the bag over your shoulder and ensuring your weapons are secure, you set out in search of a store to scavenge. Concerned that your weapons may be too soaked to function properly, you make sure you still have the large hunting knife strapped to your thigh. The darkness begins to descend, but you remain determined to press forward, keeping a watchful eye for anything dangerous.

As you navigate through the fading light, your eyes scan the horizon for any signs of civilization. The wasteland stretches out before you, a desolate expanse of ruins and decay. The only sound is the distant howling of the wind, carrying with it the haunting whispers of the forgotten world.

The landscape begins to change, the remnants of buildings becoming more frequent. You spot the crumbling remains of what was once a small town. You check each building cautiously but nothing of value is found. In one building, you come across a dead ghoul with a gunshot wound to the head and… whose ass cheeks have been stripped for meat. This world is unforgiving but the idea of resorting to cannibalism is something you simply cannot fathom and hope to never encounter.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spot a decrepit stairwell and carefully head upstairs. At the top, a cozy setup greets you - a dirty mattress, an oil lamp, and a few old yum-yum deviled eggs. This must have been the makeshift home of the ghoul from below. Despite his grim fate, you're thankful for the somewhat snug spot to rest for the night. You aren’t too concerned about whatever cannibal stripped him of meat since they are most likely long gone by now. Settling down on the mattress, your eyes grow heavy and you swiftly fall asleep.

As you slowly awake to the morning light filtering through the boarded-up window, you feel a tugging sensation on your left leg. Startled, you look down to see a tiny radroach attempting to nibble on you. Reacting quickly with a loud shriek, you kick its face and draw your knife, stabbing it repeatedly until it stops moving. Taking a deep breath, you lean back against the wall and open the yum-yum deviled eggs. Chewing through them, you defiantly welcome the day with a loud “Good fucking morning to you, too, wasteland!”

After finishing the deviled eggs and taking a swig of water, you prepare for the day ahead. Double-checking the contents of your bag and inspecting your weapons that had gotten wet the day before, everything appears to be in working order. Satisfied, you descend the stairs and step out through the front door. The scorching heat of the day is already intense, with the sun's rays beating down on the sandy ground. Your attention is drawn to a trail of footprints, two distinct pairs, which prompts you to follow out of curiosity.

With each step, the trail of footprints becomes more defined, leading you closer to the ruins of a city. The skeletal remains of skyscrapers loom ahead of you, their shattered windows like hollow eyes, observing your progress. The trail winds its way through the eerie maze of desolation, navigating past rusted cars and collapsed structures. Before you know it, you hear a man and woman talking up ahead in front of a Super Duper Mart. You quickly hide behind a nearby building and peer around the corner

It’s that fucking ghoul and vault dweller.

Tag List: @fallout-girl219 @ellabellabunny123 @sunnexaltation

[poorlemons]

Hello hello!!!! I am absolutely obsessed with your clear images Michael, the transfem propaganda is working wonderfully!

I scrolled through the whole clear images tag and didn't find you talking about it (maybe i missed it?) but I'm really curious how the egg cracked. The... Situation she was in was definitely a unique one, and I'm very curious on how she discovered herself

Thanks for feeding the Michael crowd we cherish you and your amazing art

clasps hands together. eh i probably mentioned it somewhere but i dont mind reiterating it! ill always take an opportunity to talk about michael :-) Ok so originally the circumstances of her 'egg cracking' as it were, was kinda just a bit? when i came up w/ it it was a 'lol that would be funny if THATS why she realized it' but its /srs now. I think the imagery is kinda sick im prefacing this with she probable had inklings earlier on, she's queer and in her 50s, she knows some stuff, has seen some signs. but michael generally didn't touch on it. working in academia surely made it seem like acknowledging it would be like poking a live wire. cure her getting fed to the spiral. suddenly she doesnt really exist. and like, dying regrets and all that. but she comes back, she gets spit back out, which is honestly really sick re-birth type imagery. raw as hell, tearing yourself back into reality with your bare hands, returning your Who to your What and all you have left if Yourself. i think it wasn't some come-to-jesus realization, or this sudden egg crack. i think it was a split second clarification soon after she was spit back out, a small choice to speak up about it. putting a tentative step down in asserting that *this* is michael. because she is so so tired and all she wants after 10 years of not existing is to be seen for who she is and not poor, disposable michael or the cruel, cunning distortion and jon and helen are chill about it