#don't know how to talk to them anymore. i didn't tell any of them when my grandpa died and i think they just assumed that i've moved on so

[leashybebes]

wip wednesday

i was tagged for this by @ambernotember and @sugarpenchant, thank you beloveds. here's a little more of karen and tommy getting wine drunk from amnesia fic

Karen lets out a long, slow breath. "Do you want one of us to try talking to him?"

"No," Tommy says. "No, it's okay. He's - he deserves to feel however he feels. It's only - "

"Bzzzt!" Karen buzzes, and slaps the back of his head.

Tommy's wine sloshes dangerously in his glass. "Ow, Karen, what the fuck!"

She looks at him with wide eyes. "Buck told Hen he used to do that when you were being unnecessarily self-deprecating."

"Jesus, Karen." Tommy can't help being amused, even though the reminder of how determined Evan had been to see the best in him, to make Tommy see the best in himself makes him want to die a little. "He used to do this," he says, flicking the back of her hand.

"Oh," she says guilelessly. "My bad."

"No kidding," Tommy grumbles, rubbing the back of his head.

"Seriously, though," Karen says, fixing him with a glare that's diluted only slightly by the fact she has to squint to bring him into focus. "You don't have to make yourself a - a sponge for his bad feelings. It's okay that he feels them. It's not okay if he throws them at you."

Tommy shrugs, but doesn't want to risk another slap, so he doesn't say what he's thinking, which is something along the lines of maybe I was a coward even when I was being brave and maybe even though I didn't know it I waited until he wasn't mad anymore before I reached out and maybe this is exactly what I deserve.

"More wine," Karen says decisively, and Tommy splits the last of the bottle between them.

"Should we?" he asks, a little belated. "The kids - "

"Hen's home any minute," Karen says with a shrug. "But Tommy. I really - I really think you have to tell him how this is making you feel."

"He doesn't care, Karen."

"Does that sound like Buck to you?"

"No," Tommy admits.

"He's mad and he's hurting and he's confused, but he's still Buck. He's a puppy. He won't want to hurt you even if he is mad at you."

no onward tags today because it is very firmly thursday, oops

[levissslutt]

𝔹𝕦𝕥𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕗𝕝𝕚𝕖𝕤

It is now late afternoon. You and Ashanti talked for hours in the dining hall, until they closed for dinner, about nothing in particular. You were tempted to tell her about whats going on, but considering the age difference and the fact that he's a professor, and well some more obvious reasons, like he's apart of a fucking gang, you decided against it.

Gathering the trash you cleaned up the table and headed back to your dorm rooms.

"I'll see you later Shanti, text me ok?."

"I will" she yelled back.

As you got back in your room you immediately stripped and hopped in the shower.

After doing your shower routine and daily TED talk you got out. You checked your phone seeing you had a text from Toji. "Meet me outside when you see this pretty girl :)."

"He's 40 years old and text like that, oh boy."

30 minutes later, you finally walked out to his car. "Goddamn it took you long enough." You smiled at him, "but don't I look cute?". His eyes flickered to your bare legs and back to your eyes. He smirked. "Don't be weird, I was talking about my shoes."

"Yea whatever." He chuckled, driving off.

"I ordered take out, so we can take it back to my place, is that ok?". You nodded, "I didn't have a preference anyways". You noticed his different attire, not realizing he had so many tattoos. As he drove you studied him, his broad shoulders, his stern expression, his light green eyes, his jawline, my god he's so fine.

"You checking me out?"

You forgot people know you're looking at them, oh god that's embarrassing. "Maybe" you mumbled, turning to look out the window.

He found that quite amusing. Truth be told he didn't mind one bit.

Fifteen minutes later yall arrived at the restaurant. "I'll be right back", he says.

Sitting in the passenger seat you notice how nice his car is. "I know for a fact he did not buy this car on his college professor salary." You were getting antsy so you decided to look in the glove compartment. Rule of thumb, you'll find out a lot about a person by whats in their glove compartment.

Your dad taught you that. You opened that shit and sitting neatly in there was a pistol, very much worn out . "The hell..." Toji opened the door to find you holding it. You turned and pointed it at him. "Pew pew."

"Kid what the hell are you doing?". "I found your pistol, why do you have this?". "Better question is why do you have it?", he asked getting in the car. "Even better question, why do you know what kind of gun that is?". You smiled, "Lucky guess". He could tell he knew you were familiar with the deadly item from the way you were holding it."I know you're lying" he said, "but I guess there are some things we are both lying about."

You tilted your head, smiling at him. "You're right, for starters, I know you didn't buy this car on a college professor salary". He lets out a snort as he pulls out of the parking lot. He knew your dad probably taught you any and everything there is to know about weapons and hand to hand combat.

He was one of those paranoid people who took precautions on everything, like picking your school...and teaching his only child combat that you would never actually need.

The thought of him just so happening to work at this school didn't seem like such a coincidence anymore. You knew nothing was wrong or anything or that you weren't in any danger, but you have dreams about this mystery man who plays with guns with your dad, and now he just so happens to work at this unknown ass school in the middle of buttfuck? Uh uh.

You looked at him. "Hmm?" he hums. " My dad sent you here?"

"Sharp as hell aren't you?" You called that shit, sneaky bastard. "Well it wasn't that hard to put two and two together." However there was absolutely no way in hell you were telling him about those dreams, fuck no.

Y'all arrived at his house, it was fucking huge. "Just you?." He trailed behind you to the front door. "Uh yea, why?"

"People who have huge houses, and it's only them living there, either are sex addicts or kill people for a living."

He scoffed at you, not saying anything. He then gave you his key to unlock the door, so he wouldn't drop the food. You stepped inside and looked around. To the right was the kitchen and past that the dining room. To your left was the living room and directly in front of you was a huge double sided stair case. It was cute however nothing matched. "Your decor is god awful."

"Look here little girl you don't have to comment on every little thing."

Ignoring the maniac in front of you you stepped around him in disbelief. "Your couch is in the middle of the floor, are you ok?" He set the food down and made himself comfortable. "I cannot believe I'm being insulted by a mf half my age." You laughed, "I wasn't all that serious it isn't that bad."

It actually was, but he seemed a little embarrassed so you dropped it, it wasn't exactly empty just nothing matched and everything was in odd places.

Shaking your head at the mans layout you made your way over to where he was in his kitchen. The kitchen however was kind of cute, it had a marble gray backsplash behind the stove with matching dish clothes, and decor. You smiled at yourself in the vast improvement but spared him another sly remark.

He made our plates as you sat across from him at the dining table. "Why did he send you here." You waisted no time.

"Straight to it huh?". You nodded, you were curious to know how the hell we got here, considering you didn't even know he existed 48 hours ago.

Well you had heard the name before, but nonetheless the man in front of you was otherwise a stranger to you. Besides those dreams of course.

"I don't work for him if that's what you're thinking, more like I work with him."

"Is that not the same thing?", you asked through a mouthful of food. "No, see he isn't my boss. I am my own boss, with my own men." You were utterly confused. "But you all are apart of the same gang, so how do you not work for him?"

"Like I said Im my own boss with my own men." He said this slowly looking at you through unreadable eyes.

You leaned back in your chair a bit. "Wait I remember now, I forget about that sometimes." The Black Panthers are the gang they are all in. More widely known as The Tags. Your dad is the leader, he's the founder and runs pretty much everything, You didn't know how you forgot, but besides your dad there are other founding members Gojo, Nanami, Nico, Worick, and of course Toji. Including your dad thats six men and they all run their own regiments.

He kept you completely separate from that life, like completely. Growing up he didn't even keep weapons in the house. The only one of them you'd met was of course your uncle Gojo who damn near raised you with your dad, however Toji was a name that had many stories behind it, hence why you'd heard the name but never met the man, as if they had time to anyways.

The tags are just that damn big. Well over ten thousand men in each group. You've never met Nico, Nanami, or Worick. You grew up around Gojo, and obviously you never met Toji until today. There's a reason you never really met them. Toji watches you closely as you eat and analyze everything slowly.

"I see your gears moving." Toji said. "I just don't get why he has you working at the uni, aren't you all too busy for that."

"You're sharp, but not that bright."

"Fuck you ." He got up and walked over to me. Leaning his weight on both hands on the side of the table. "Im one of the founding members of your dads gang and you think Im here at your school for no reason? You said it yourself earlier."

" Well yea I was just thinking you wouldn't be here unless something was wrong-"

And then it clicked. Something was wrong so very very wrong. Even though earlier you had ruled that out, you ere very wrong.

His eyes shifted to the floor, his facade fading.

" Geto is missing."

Your breathe caught in your throat. Your words came out in a whisper eyes flickering to the tall man. " What do you mean he's missing."

"I didn't mean to stall like this or drop it on you like that because we have reasons to believe he's fine, we just haven't been able to get in contact with him, and in the case this was ever to happen I was to look after you."

He looked sincere when he spoke I know they wouldn't lie about his wellbeing, but he might still be holding something back. As soon as that thought crossed your mind "did Gojo know" you blurted out.

He looked conflicted, again like he was holding something back.

"That's not my place to s-"

You cut him off no longer in the mood to eat.

" Did he know Toji?" You asked again raising your voice.

His shoulders dropped " yea."

Why the fuck would he not tell you something like that.

The two of you talked for bout an hour after that conversation. He felt really bad about the whole situation considering you didn't know anything and were kept out of the loop. After drilling him for more answers you calmed a bit realizing Gojo couldn't say anything.

"Do you want to watch a movie?", he asked. Trying to ease the tension. "Answer one more question and then I will watch a movie with you", "hit me" he says as he leans back in his chair.

"Can you go back over your lecture from earlier?" You questioned with a smile.

He returned the same toothy grin " Sure pretty girl, but next time you ought to pay attention and not stare off into space."

He briefly explained some important points from earlier and ended with " But don't worry well be talking about this subject for a few weeks you'll have plenty of time to grasp it, and Im not giving you exceptions you better do your damn work."

" Well yes sir" You half heartedly saluted at him.

The entire time you'd been with him he thought you didn't notice, but just as you were checking him out in the car ride he was doing the same to you, a lot more subtly, though. He loved the way your hair fell to your mid back, you had locs and the ones in the front where a bit shorter causing you to constantly tuck them behind your ears, or even when a few locs fell into your eyes and you'd shift them away was mesmerizing to him for some reason.

You had piercings taking up each side of your ear damn near leaving no room, as well as a brow piercing with a few more jewelry pieces in your face. He wondered where else you had piercings.

To Toji you looked nothing like your father, but every bit of your late mother was there in the flesh. He'd never in 100 million years and then some, admit this, but way way back in the day when him and your dad first met, he had actually hit it off with your mom, but she picked Geto in the end. He'd never let it all the way go and even at his big age had never been in a serious relationship.

The thoughts where lingering in the back of his head as he moved into the living room watching your every move.

You decided to watch Twilight, your favorite movie. It was the scene were Bella was playing baseball with Edwards family. You were sitting next to him on the miss-placed couch when your phones buzzed. You looked at the notification, "oh fuck yea" you said, "the hell?" Toji muttered. Classes had been cancelled until further notice. "Thats some shady shit", the man next to you said."

"Welp that means we are having a sleepover." You announced.

"You can't just invite yourself to stay the night at other peoples houses." Toji says as he leans back into the couch resting his arm on the back, manspread.

"Why not, it isn't like you're going to say no".

He chuckled and pulled you closer, "true".

The action made you freeze, but he didn't shift any further than that so you eventually relaxed into his side.

The movie finished, but it was only 9 pm.  "Hey where's your bathroom I want to take a shower", "hold on i'll show you and I'll get you some clothes". He walked you to his bathroom and then left to find something comfortable you could wear. You folded your clothes up on the counter and stepped in the steaming shower after letting it run for a few seconds. He came back in the bathroom shortly after holding some clothes for you.

"I realized I'm like 3 times your size, so I brought you a t-shirt and some fuzzy socks that I can't fit." You laughed softly at the thought of this scary looking man having fuzzy socks, then again you can never go wrong with some fuzzy socks, "I appreciate it."

It did not go unnoticed all he gave you was a shirt and some dam socks.

You were shocked to see the kind of products he bathes with. Usually men bathe with all purpose cleaner. You can use that shit to clean a truck engine. But he had mostly dove products. And that aromatherapy body wash from bath and body works. He had a lip scrub too, thats so cute.

You washed and stepped out, greeted with a fluffy blue towel and the clothes Toji put on the counter for you. The other clothes from earlier were gone. He left a travel size lotion and deodorant you could use. You finished your business and stepped out to find Toji sprawled out on his bed.

It was a king, but his big ass took up the entire bed. "You done brat?"

"Yea I thought you fell asleep on me." He rolled over on his back "I may be old, but I can hang." He motioned for you to come closer. You got up on the bed and sat on his lap facing him.

He froze much like how you did on the couch earlier. His eyes flickered something dark that made you shift. " Bold of you sweetheart."

You weren't about to back down now. " Seeing how far you'll let me go." He was staring right through you. Not saying a word. Most people in this situation would be uncomfortable, but his eyes, those damn eyes gave you butterflies. He leans in, pressing his lips to yours.

That lip scrub does its job cause his lips are so damn soft. You kiss him back scooting closer to him, wanting to feel all of his warmth. His hands slide down to your hips, not breaking the kiss. You cup his cheeks and deepen the kiss as he slides his hand under your shirt, hands resting on your bare skin. His touch sent chills down your spine. You wanted more, but before you got what you wanted he broke the kiss, leaning back a bit. Giving you that same look from earlier only with more lust. His eyes flickered with passion.

"Marry me."

[thatgirlsworld36]

You are mine- Jobe Bellingham

---One shot; Jobe Bellimgham x fem!reader

word count--> 4.8K

WARNING:mention of alcohol; angst, jelousy unprotocted sex(wrap it before you tap it!) , kinda rough sex, dirty talk, spanking, fingering, hair pulling(like once)... my writing!!

a/n- That's the first time i write one shot and the first time i'm writing smut in my life, sooo. Hope it's not too long. Lmk if i missed something in the warning.Also english is not my first language. Stay safe <3

Enjoy!

The moment the door slammed behind me, the lively chatter and laughter from the other room faded to a distant hum, leaving us in an uncomfortable silence that seemed to envelop us like a heavy blanket. I turned around and met Jobe’s gaze. His jaw was set,  and his eyes narrowed. 

-What the hell do you think you’re doing?- he hissed in a low, husky voice. There was something fierce in his gaze. Poisonous. My stomach churned just from the intensity with which he was staring at me, but I managed to find my voice and speak.

-I'm having a good time with my friends? I don't see where the problem is.

-Y/N, are you serious right now? The problem is that you were openly flirting with him!- his hands balled into fists. He took a step towards me, not taking his eyes off mine. He took another, almost completely closing the distance between us.

-With whom?- his words caught me off guard. I felt as if he had just slapped me hard, but his hands hadn't moved. They sat tight against his body, still clenched into fists. He was trying to suppress his rage. - Jobe, I really don't know who or what you're talking about. I haven't flirted with anyone!

- Don't tell me you didn't notice the way he was looking at you!- he growled with a force in his voice that bordered on shouting.- Everyone in the room saw you smiling and laughing at his jokes.  How you lean closer and closer to him. How you let him pull you aside to whisper something in your ear because “you didn’t hear him.” Don’t make me look like a fool!

My heart pounded in my chest. I tried to calm myself down to quell the rising argument, but the insult from his words was too strong. Had I ever given him a reason not to trust me before?

-Do you know how much you mean to me?-  he continued without even giving me time to defend myself. -I can't sit back and watch you try to get someone else's attention! You're mine. Do you understand that? Mine!

-Jobe, I didn't do anything! I don't want to hurt you.- I tried to sound calm, but my trembling voice gave me away. I didn't want this, I didn't want to argue with him. I was fighting back the tears that were trying to escape me. -I wasn't flirting with Victor, I was just trying to have fun.

-I didn't mention a name. Did i?- His voice became low, almost a whisper, as he leaned closer to my face.  His dark brown eyes were indistinguishable from the darkness. I could feel his anger all over my body.-If you weren't guilty, you wouldn't know who I'm talking about. And does having fun have to come at the expense of other people's feelings? How can you not understand that you're hurting me?

I stared at him for a minute. My thoughts wandered and I could feel my vision blurring. I hadn’t done anything. At least not consciously, I didn’t want it to seem that way. Nor do I want to hurt him.

- You didn’t say his name but I’m not stupid Jobe! I know you’re talking about him. Tell me, what do you want from me? To apologize for something I didn’t even do?- the calm left my body. I wasn’t going to let him accuse me of something for no reason.

-I’m not convinced about that anymore Y/N! If you’re not stupid, then you’re just too blind. Do you even care about our relationship? Do you care about ME?

Hot tears slid down my cheeks. I couldn’t hold them in any longer. The tension seemed to take over the air and suck even the air out of my lungs. I opened my lips to answer him, but when nothing came out, I closed them.  My mind had become a dark, scary place. It was like I was a prisoner to myself. 

-Come on, what happened? Don't you have anything smart to say anymore? Or do you think that if you cry everything will go away?- his voice was colder than before.- I'm asking you for the last time Y/N, do you even care about me?

-Jobe, I-

The closet door opened and Jude's head poked out. It was obvious that he was a little tipsy, and the surroundings and our faces made no impression on him.

- Not that I want to interrupt you, but two of the guests are leaving and- he was stopped by a quick burp, took a sip from his glass to quell another and continued- and I decided to take you back to the party. Or was it a reunion? Whatever.

He turned his back on us and with a slight sway headed back to the living room as if nothing had happened. As if he hadn't interrupted a pressing argument. 

Jobe took a step forward to pass me, but suddenly caught my jaw between his fingers.

-This isn't over. We'll talk again when everyone leaves. By then you'll have plenty of time to think about what you did and about my question.- his thumb slid down my cheek, wiping away a few of the escaped tears. The feel of his hand on my skin was warm, almost comforting. A stark contrast to the chaos in my head.  With his little finger and ring finger, which were under my chin, he lifted my head slightly, making me meet his gaze again. - Do you need me to repeat the question again? You know, in case you've already forgotten it. 

I shook my head. There was no need, it was already imprinted in my mind. It sounded like an endless echo that wouldn't leave anytime soon. That wouldn't leave ever. But this answer wasn't enough. He squeezed my chin very lightly, barely perceptibly, but indicating that this wasn't enough for him. He expected something more. 

-No. No need. - I whispered under my breath. 

-Our future depends on you. Think carefully.

______________________________________________________________

The noise in the room was deafening—laughter, music, broken words that I couldn’t put together into a complete sentence. But it all sounded distant. Muffled. As if someone had put a thin layer of glass between me and reality. I don’t remember how I got to the living room after my conversation with Jobe, or when I picked up my glass, but now, as I sat on the couch, staring at the melting ice, none of that mattered. Drops of water ran down the side of my glass, onto my fingers, but even that couldn’t break me out of the trance I was in. It couldn’t save me from my mind. 

Jobe’s voice still rang in my head—low, thick, filled with anger and jealousy. It echoed like a bell. Louder than the music.  Louder than laughter, louder than conversation, but not loud enough to be found and removed from my mind. 

"You're mine. Do you understand? Mine!" 

I looked into his eyes as he said it. Dark, deep, unyielding. The tremor in his voice, the way his fingers gripped my jaw roughly. The gentleness with which he ran them down my cheek. This moment felt more alive now than the world around me.

One of the guests spilled his drink, someone leaned over to wipe it, and another toasted something I didn’t hear. The world kept moving, but I wasn’t part of it. My gaze kept falling on Jobe. He was surrounded by his brother and other friends. Jude was waving his arms cheerfully and telling some ridiculous story that he would probably regret in the morning. And Jobe was just sitting there. He was trying to act like nothing had happened, but he couldn’t fool me. Not me. His knuckles were white from how tightly he was gripping his glass, and his other hand was in his pocket. As if it was the only way he could stop himself from clenching them into fists. His shoulders were hunched forward slightly, and his jaw was still set. He hadn’t looked at me once, but I knew his full attention was focused on me. 

 I bit my lip, trying to swallow the weight in my chest, but just then I felt movement next to me. A hand rested on the back of the couch next to me, making me jump slightly.

-Are you okay? You look… not here.

Not here. Yes. That's right. I'm not here.

But then I recognized the voice. Victor. I looked up from the whiskey in my hand and met his blue eyes. So different from the ones I love, the ones I desire.

-Everything is fine.- my answer was short. Evasive. I didn't want to talk to anyone. Especially him. 

A cold shiver ran down my spine. The feeling that someone was watching me made my blood boil. I quickly moved my gaze from the blue orbs in front of me and met Jobe's eyes. Brown. I didn't think it was possible, but his gaze was even more dangerous than it was in the room earlier. He was watching me. Closely following my every move, every word, every gesture I would make to the man in front of me. 

-Y/N, are you even listening to me?- Victor's voice was loud, shouting over the music trying to catch my attention.  

- Excuse me, I don't feel well. I think... I'm going to go out onto the balcony. I want to get some fresh air.- I answered him quickly. Mechanically. I got up from my place on the sofa and left my glass on the coffee table next to me. 

 -Are you sure everything is okay?- his hand landed on my shoulder. My whole body tensed. I felt like all eyes were on me. Everyone was waiting to see how far he would go. Where Jobe's patience would end.- I can…

-No no no, im okay.- I interrupted him quickly before he could finish and pushed his hand away. Someone behind me called out Jobe's name, which caught my attention. I turned to look over my shoulder and saw him. He had turned completely towards me and Viktor. The glass he was holding before was nowhere to be seen around him, and his hands were clenched into fists. He was no longer suppressing the impulse.- It was nice to meet you, Vic. Good evening!

-Are you sure Jobe didn't do something? If so, you can always tell me.- with these words he put his hand back on my shoulder and looked at my boyfriend. It was as if he was challenging him. He wanted to see what he would do. Will he hit him in front of everyone?

- I said everything is fine!

I didn't give him time to answer and hurried to the balcony. I needed to be alone. The guests had decreased drastically, but the situation was pressing me more and more. When everyone left, one persone would remain. I needed to have a conversation with the man I love. A conversation that would turn into an argument. An argument that most likely wouldn't end well.

The moment the cold air hit my face, all my emotions rushed over me. Hot tears started to fall down my cheeks, making my hair stick to my face. My vision was blurry, but I managed to reach the railing and grab it. I held it tightly, as if it was the only thing holding me here. An icy wind blew around me, lifting the ends of my dress and making my hair fly away a little from my face, but I didn't feel the cold. 

 I stared straight ahead, unable to feel anything other than fear and rage. I was afraid of how it would all end, whether he would find out that I hadn’t done anything. Then the rage came… Jobe REFUSED to understand the truth. He was accusing me for no real reason. Without ME giving him that reason. I just wanted to disappear. The wind to pick me up and blew me away. Somewhere far away. Anywhere but here. Not at this moment. Not in my home. 

The balcony door opened, but I didn’t turn around. I kept looking ahead, my eyes half-blurred and my head repeating a sentence. Over and over. Like a knife that cut into me harder and deeper with each repetition. 

“Do you care about ME?” 

Something heavy fell on my shoulders. A jacket.  It smelled like  alcohol and cigarette smoke, but one scent was stronger than any other. Or it wasn’t. Maybe I was just so used to it that I could smell it on everything. Pure poison for my mind. Or an addictive cure. I didn’t know. I knew the jacket was Jobe’s. I knew he was standing behind me from the moment the balcony door opened. But I wouldn’t turn around. I didn’t want to. I wasn’t able to…

-Was he here? With you. Alone, just the two of you.- His voice was low. It sounded cracked, trembling as if he hadn’t spoken in a long time. But this time I could feel not only the rage in him, but also a hint of pain. Was I really hurting him?

The cold finally took hold of me. I pulled his jacket a little more over my shoulders and let his warmth and smell take over me. I squeezed my eyes so hard that small white dots appeared on the otherwise black background. Tears continued to fall down my cheeks, and my lips felt like they were glued together. I didn't want to speak. 

  I felt movement behind me. Before I knew what was happening, two hands came down to me, and his chest was pressed against my back. I opened my eyes slightly and blinked in an attempt to chase away the tears. He had me as if I was in trapp. His hands were millimeters away from mine. He was gripping the railing tightly, his knuckles turning white the same way they had earlier when he was gripping his glass. His body pressed against mine as if to keep me warm. He was protecting me. But I wasn't sure if it was from himself or from others.  

  I felt myself shivering. I didn’t know if it was from the cold or from all the emotions raging inside me. I didn’t know how I hadn’t felt it before. 

-Please.- He was shivering too. Not just his hands and voice, but himself.- Just tell me. Was he here with you? When Victor left the room shortly after you, did he come here? Please.- There was pain in his voice. It was so strong, it made my heart break into small pieces. And I was to blame for this pain. But at the same time, I wasn’t.

-No. He didn’t come here.- It came out as a whisper. I didn’t know if he heard me. 

A quick sigh escaped his mouth and he rested his head on mine. My arms parted. My fingers were no longer holding the railing, and my eyes burned, but I wasn’t crying anymore. We sat like that. Glued to each other for what felt like an eternity.  Gentle actions and moments that were in complete contrast to the harsh and chaotic words and thoughts in my head.

-Jobe, I can't…

-I don't want to argue anymore. I don't want to fight.- His voice was soft. I didn't feel the rage in him. Not anymore. 

  He put his hands on my waist and turned me around to face him. Our eyes met again. Brown. My favorite color. A color I never thought I would like. He put his hand on my cheek again like he had done before, but now it felt different. Better. More intimate. 

-Let's go inside. We can warp up there.

  It wasn't a question. He was telling me what we were going to do, he took my hand and took a step forward, then stopped. He was waiting to see if I would let him lead me. If I would let him end the argument. 

I followed his lead and stepped forward as well. A faint smile appeared on his face and he led us to the bedroom. Jobe slid his hand down my back, slowly and possessively, as he led me to our room. A moment later, he put it back on my hand. I could feel the warmth of his body next to me, the firm grip on my wrist. Not too strong, not painful, but enough to know he wasn’t going to let me go. Not before he got what he wanted. Me. 

We were close to the door when a familiar voice pierced the space. 

-Y/N! 

Victor. 

I looked back and saw him—he was standing at the end of the hallway with a blonde girl next to him. He was smiling and had his hand raised in the air. 

-Tonight was great. I’ll see you soon. 

Before I could react, I felt Jobe’s grip on me tighten.  His body froze next to mine. I looked back at him, but he wasn't looking at me anymore. His eyes were fixed on Victor. The calmness that had emanated from him a few seconds ago was replaced by a much darker feeling. Jealousy.  

I exhaled when I realized that Victor was simply leaving and raised my hand to wave him back. Just a gesture, purely friendly. With no intention of annoying Jobe with it or ignoring Victor.

But I couldn't.

A strong hand pulled me into the room. The door slammed behind me and my back was violently pressed against it. A dull echo echoed through the walls. Jobe's eyes looked at me again. Pure black. Full of newly charged anger, jealousy, but also passion. 

-What…

His lips were locked on mine before I could even finish. He wasn't just kissing me.  He was taking what was his. His tongue thrust roughly into my mouth without any mercy. His hands gripped my hips, holding me in a new trap. I didn't want to escape anymore. I was enjoying the end of the evening more and more.

 The kiss was getting more and more intense. Intoxicating. My lungs were running out of air, but I didn't want to pull away. His right hand was already gripping my jaw, while the left hand loosely held close to my waist.

Suddenly Jobe pulled his lips away from mine and touched our foreheads. We both struggled to take a quick breath. The moment of calm didn't last long. His lips found mine again and he started kissing me more roughly. This time his hands were roaming all over my body. I could feel him everywhere. It was as if he was under my skin and merging with me. His kisses started to go lower and lower. His mouth was roughly biting and sucking my neck. He was marking me.

-Only mine.- his voice was low and deep. Desire was pouring out of his tone.

Only mine…. Only mine... Only his.

His hands slid under my dress, pulling me out of my little trance of ecstasy. The face that was buried in my neck quickly slipped out and looked me in the eyes, grabbing my jaw again with one hand.

-You're not wearing underwear, love?- he sounded surprised. Excited. His eyes looked at me hungrily. Like a predator looking at the half-naked body of its victim. I was in front of him, pressed against the door, my dress lifted to my waist. Without underwear or bra.- Tell me, honey…- he buried his head in my neck again, biting and sucking harder.- did you do all this for me? Is it because of me that you walk around all evening without panties ?

 I just nodded, unable to answer. The lips on my neck, his teeth digging lightly into my flesh. The hands that roamed my almost naked body. Everything was almost wonderful. Intense. Intoxicating.

 A hard slap hit my thigh, making me moan slightly.

-I asked you a question, princess. Are you going to make me repeat it? Are you seriously going to play with me like this? Right now?

-Yes Jobe, for you. Only for you.

-And risk all the guests seeing what a little slut you are? Risk Victor finding out.- his hand slid under my dress finding my bare breast squeezing it at the mention of the other man- And you didn't do it for Victor. Are you sure? You dressed like this, in that short red dress, without underwear, not for him. But for me.

I nodded my head to confirm. It was all just for Jobe. A second hard slap cut through the air. This time it hit my ass.

-Yes Jobe, it's all just for you. I don't want anyone else. No one can make me feel like you. I only want you.- I almost cried with pleasure. His fingers had begun to make slow circles on my clitoris, his mouth sucking, tugging, and biting the skin on my collarbone, and his other hand was playing with my breasts. It was almost perfect. Almost. I could feel his cock throbbing against my leg. It was begging for release. My hand slid slowly down his chest, reaching the bulge in his pants.

-That was it.- he hissed softly against my skin, his hands finding the hem of my dress just above my hips and lifting it above my head, throwing it somewhere in the room. Then he picked me up by the waist and threw me onto the bed on my stomach.

I bit my lips hungrily as I listened to him unbuckle his jeans, letting them fall to the ground. I tried to turn on my back to look at him, but I was stopped.

Smack.

A hard slap hit my ass, making me stop and moan slightly. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to ignore the slight stinging pain on my flesh.

-That was because of your attempt to make a fool of me, to make me believe that you weren't flirting with anyone.

Another slap, a fourth one crashed down onto my already slightly reddened skin. A moan escaped my lips, making me bite them, trying to suppress it. There were still  more people down there. Our friends.

A strong hand grabbed my hair, making me arch my back and look behind me.

-That was because of the fact that you were flirting with him. Whether it was conscious or not.- with those words he struck another spank- The fifth, was because of the fact that you had been walking around almost naked all evening, almost revealing to people what is mine.

I bit my lip harder and harder, trying to stop my sounds of pleasure and ecstasy that were struggling to escape. I looked at Jobe's hungry eyes almost innocently. As if I didn't want this. As if I wasn't enjoying it.

-That- a stronger, sixth slap followed, making me close my eyes and let out the moan of pleasure I had been keeping between my lips.- is because you're trying to hide the sweet little sounds you make. Good girls don't do that. They let their boyfriends hear them. And you're a good girl, right?

-Yes.- my voice was quiet. A barely audible sound, mixed in an atmosphere full of desire, passion and jealousy.

A final seventh slap landed on my ass, causing the burning and slight pain to increase. This time I let my moan escape freely, earning me a slight smile from Jobe.

- The seventh was just because I can…and to remind you who was fucking you.

Jobe Bellingham. Number 7.

He turned me around sharply and slammed his lips into mine again, pulling my hips closer to him.

-Only. Mine. Damn it. Mine.

His lips left mine, but before I could protest I felt his tongue give my naked and throbbing clit a quick lick. My head fell back onto the pillow, and my hands tangled in his black curls. His fingers found my entrance, thrusting just one in. Slowly. He teased me

-Damn, you're so wet. Just for me.- his lips sucked hungrily on my clit. It was like he hadn't eaten in days. His finger started moving faster, making me tighten around him. Almost perfect. Almost again, but not quite.

-Jobe, please. I…I…Oh my god…

Jobe inserted a second finger the moment I started talking. He moved them faster and faster, making me roll my eyes and lift my hips closer and closer to his mouth. His tongue was circling my clitoris. I could have sworn I saw stars. And I wasn't even with my eyes open.

His fingers began to move like scissors, making me come closer and closer. His other hand held me in place, his iron grip not allowing me to move anymore, and his thumb was drawing light vague figures on my thigh. It was making my body relax even more.

-You want to come, don't you? I feel you love. I feel you curling around me. How your little cunt is trying to strangle my fingers. How it's begging to come. Do you think you deserve to come, hmm?

- Jobe yes…I…please, I Jobe…- his name came out like a mantra. As if that was the only thing my mind knew. The only thing that mattered.

- I don't think so.- with these words he slowed down his movements. His tongue was giving light licks on my clitoris, and his fingers were moving much, much slower. He hadn't stopped, but he was bordering on complete rest.- I think you're going to come on MY cock. Only there.

He bit my clitoris lightly and moved his fingers again quickly, making me tangle mine in his hair again and lower my head moaning his name.

I didn't know how long his sweet torture lasted, but I felt like I wouldn't last much longer. I had to finish. I couldn't keep being brought to the edge and then he would stop, give me time to calm down and start all over again. Just because he could.

-Jobe I…I can’t…any more I- it almost came out as a sob. The stolen pleasure was getting harder to bear.

- Too bad, I told you, you’ll come all the way on my dick. And I’m not done playing with my beloved princess yet.- his fingers started to stretch me again and he bit my clitoris lightly. That was my last straw. Despite my attempts to stop myself, my orgasm overtook me, turning me into a moaning mess. My thighs writhed under Jobe’s grip and I could feel his gaze staring hungrily at my face. His fingers were moving much faster than before, making me come out faster from the ecstasy I had fallen into.

When my body calmed down, my eyes cleared again and I was able to see something other than black and white spots, I met Jobe’s gaze. His eyes were fixed on me. Furious. A short slap fell on my sensitive clitoris, making me moan loudly.

-I told you not to come. Good girls listen to what they are told.

He took off his boxers in less than a second and inserted his cock into my still sensitive pussy.  He started moving immediately. Without giving me time to adjust. Rough, hard and deep. He pressed his chest to mine and grabbed my face, making me look at him.

- You are so tight as hell. And so mine, damn it.- he smashed his lips into mine. His thrusts became faster and faster, his lips - rougher and rougher. Everything was almost perfect… no. Everything was already perfect.

Our sweaty bodies stuck together, making us feel each other's hearts. Jobe broke our kiss, touching his forehead to mine, closing his eyes.- So mine. Say it. Tell me you're mine.

-Only yours.- with these words he buried his head in my neck inhaling my scent. His lips kissed lightly with his mouth open the point of my pulse. His thighs didn't stop their brutal pace- Jobe, I...I'm close I can't...I can't take it anymore.

-Come on, I'm with you. Let it go darling, come on, show me you're mine. Show me who makes you cum.

With these words I released the knot in my stomach again. I felt Jobe's sperm descend into me shortly after. Making our juices merge. After a few more thrusts he allowed himself to get out of me, hugging me tighter. His head still buried in my neck.

I liked the ending I was worried about. Me and him entangled, hearts beating side by side.

-Only mine.- he whispered and kissed my neck, pulling the sheets over our naked bodies.

[thaliagrayce]

y'know what we don't talk about enough? Hazel died. We talk about how she grew up in the 30's and 40's and we talk about how out of place she feels in the modern world, but! She died! She was dead! She has spent more time dead than alive, and not by a close margin!

How does that effect a person??? We got some of it in the flashbacks, but once those caught up with her present timeline and she shared them, they just kind of... disappeared. And she was a regular girl with some weird past experiences. That's one way of doing it, sure!

I think it would have been a lot cooler if she was just a touch creepier. If she felt a little bit Wrong. Yeah, in general she's more approachable than her brother, she's more sociable and less closed off, but. If you actually spend any time with her, it can be difficult to tell which child of the underworld is actually more unsettling.

Hazel is bright of personality and has a dazzling smile, but sometimes she'll just... shut down. She'll go completely blank for like half an hour and nobody knows what to do with it. Sometimes she forgets she's alive. Sometimes she'll spout the grimmest shit you've ever heard like it's nothing, she won't even notice it's weird until the room goes quiet. She spent decades in Asphodel, which is designed to make people forget about themselves and wander around for eternity, only she didn't have the luxury of forgetting! Wild! After she comes back to life, sometimes she forgets that she's allowed to Do Stuff now. She can spend so long sitting and staring at nothing. Sometimes she'll start crying on cloudless days because it hits her again that she can actually feel the warmth of the sun on her skin and she can hear birdsong. Every little mundane experience is a blessing and she will make you remember that in the most foreboding way possible.

[kfan04]

Heeeey thank you so much for such a detailed response! I saw you are also the person who posted all of the Romeo's voicelines — my huge respect, I was so happy to find that post when I was first scrolling tumblr for any pieces of the information!

You've raised so many interesting points!

- part of why Romeo is acting like that with Kaito could be because Kaito is a Frostheimer

I'm super curious about how Romeo talks to Jin and Tohma! He called Tohma a "leech" and spoke quite negatively of him when Kaito mentioned Tohma and Romeo have a similar wat of talking. But, like you mentioned, both Romeo and Kaito are rejected by Frostheim (though Kaito's position starts to change) — Romeo's not really revenging Frostheim with thie one, does he?

I think Romeo's only on his way to get to the Frostheim, though it could be that he uses Kaito with some goal regarding Frostheim in mind.

- Romeo might see Kaito as an investment if Kaito becomes the next Frostheim Captain

With Luca in the picture, probably not anymore, hmm? Kaito doesn't really seem like the type to want power, and he mentions he just wants to live in piece. Between Kaito and Luca, I think, Kaito too would want for Luca to take the position. But it's Darkwick who decides in the end, if I'm not mistaken.

I was also thinking about what connections do those in 4th year have to the 3rd years and others. If Kaito becomes the next Frostheim Captain in his 3rd year, how would it benefit Romeo who would be then in the 4th year?

What happens after the graduation is another big question, but how is Kaito's and Romeo's relationship gonna last after? Kaito is probably expecting for their connection to only last up until then, but with Romeo's investment in this, it could be that he expects to be involved with Kaito even further.

- pendant and bracelet could be artifacts that make their holders to be fiercely protective of them

I also think it could be something else behind the symbols of wealth and prestige in the pendant and bracelet! But about protectiveness, I'm not sure? Kaito doesn't have any problem with showing Prince his pendant and doesn't show any reaction when the Prince mentioned he thought of buying it from him. I think Kaito is only holding into the pendant because if its sentimental value — something his deceased grandma he was close with gave to him. While Romeo is very overall — in chapter 8, he also had a very hard time letting go of the expensive stuff he just got.

- Kaito might be taking loans from Romeo as he doesn't seem to have income

The income is an overall great mystery! Kaito is not from the wealthy background, but where do others take money from, too? There are people who are actively doing business, like Romeo and Sho, kinda Leo. There are rich guys in Frostheim. What about everyone else? Do their families send them money? Are they in contact with their families?

Ghouls overall don't share much about their families, so Kaito only mentioning his grandma is not that weird. But if we assume he really didn't have anyone except grandma, how does he pay for food, for example? Kaito's shown to buy groceries and cook... Does Darkwick pay for him?

I doubt Kaito's taking loans from Romeo on his own though. I chapter 4, when Romeo asks him how he's going to tell Luca about now owing twice as much, Kaito replies "Shut up, you are the one who was all like 'The jackpots ripe, this could be your chance'. And you know what, you guys are dicks for spamming me so much on Wickchat." He also says he wants to quit gambling. All of it makes me thinks that Romeo somehow encourages Kaito to play? If Luca has only paid for Kaito, why would Romeo continue to message him?

- talking affectionately and sweetly might be the way Romeo's used to handle things

It makes so much sense! Romeo has this business side to him, which he sometimes lectures MC about. This guy's such a mess of rational and crazy. Although when he wrapped his arm around MC's waist it was probably just to engage Kaito — there were 3 choices, and if the player chooses to try to escape his grip and says "Kaito might misunderstand", Romeo quietly says to shut. He was additionally trying to motivate Kaito by reminding him of MC's curse and that piece of paper.

- Romeo might use the cage on more or less regular basis to punish those special to him

This is wild in whatever way we look at it, honestly. I mean, if Romeo's values allow him to do this, what kind of family does he come from?

Romeo probably isn't using the cage too much, given that it's in his private office only few people know about. But from his perspective, definitely, the cage is no big deal.

He hasn't thrown the MC in the cage yet, but with Kaito, I wonder what was his exact plan. Lock him up for a few days? Without Ritsu, no one would probably sign that non-disclosure agreement. If Kaito told the professors or chancellor about the cage, was Romeo hoping no one would care about him? Or that Hyde would cover for him? I mean it's Darkwick anyway...

- Kaito's and Romeo's relationship before the Clash

This part is also mysterious, but I think you got it right. They were somehow missing out on each other, which makes the Clash and the turning point for Romeo more intriguing. It has most probably to do with the pendant, but given Romeo's special relation to Frostheim, there could be more to it. Whatever happened, it must have clicked hard for Romeo.

- Romeo acts like this because he actually wants Kaito to improve

I could see it that way! It's a little bit hard to process, because of Romeo's attitude it is challenging to distinguish when he's trying to help, and when... not. But he is not particularly hostile to Kaito, I think. He's aggressive, but he's aggressive with everyone, or most people. Plus Kaito feels free to argue with him.

Romeo's definitely thinking of himself as more mature, and has this kinda... "I know better than you" attitude. He also expects Kaito to be obedient. During chapter 9, he multiple times tries to manipulate Kaito to take part in the mission not only by force, but by pressing on Kaito's specific buttons as well. He knows Kaito's curious about dating spots, he knows Kaito cares about MC's curse, he knows Kaito will be jealous at him being alone with MC. Romeo also explains to Kaito a lot of things. Hear me out, his attitude, doesn’t it remind you a liiittle bit of annoyed older brother? It could be just me though...

- pendant and house Aldici

Yes!!! I didn't mention it on Reddit cause it would be spoilers for the chapter 13, but I also noticed Aldici sounds Italian! Plus, the bracelet with the same insignia was found in the International funeral. This raises so many questions — is it a coincidence that the pendant belongs to the likely Italian family and Romeo is Italian? Does Kaito have Italian relatives? His name is very Japanese, is he distantly related or was his surname changed by grandma for some purpose?

Too many pieces are missing x) What I'm almost sure about, Kaito doesn't know about his origins. He is also not interested in discovering it, for now. I honestly wonder why he's in the Frostheim. He clearly wasn't raised in the same prestige as everyone else in Frostheim, and does not share the same mindset. If it's about values and/or personality, why aren't there more poor or middle-class people in Frostheim?

It's probably few month until we get new information about it, but the good thing is, we will get it for sure! The pendant storyline and whatever it is between Romeo and Kaito is first mentioned in the very beginning of the story, and we are consistently getting new hints almost in every chapter one of them is. It's just that, even at this stage, it's all really tangled, and even though it's fun to explain all the complicated relationships in the game with ships, I want to try and make sense of it somehow.

Thank you so much for replying!!!

What do you think is going on with Kaito and Romeo?

I've posted this on Reddit and now I'm posting it here so I more people see it and talk to me!

Particularly I'm interested in why Romeo seems to be so clingy with Kaito. I know that there are already some explanations — Kaito's debt and Kaito's pendant — but don't you think Romeo is putting too much effort into this?

Regarding **debt**: does Romeo chase around everyone with debt on the regular basis? Also, the academy is clearly full on well-off students, it would make much more sense to concentrate on them. Kaito doesn't have money and he won't somehow get them out of nowhere (Luca is another discussion).

Regarding **pendant**: have you noticed that Romeo is trying to convince Kaito to give him the pendant, instead of taking it away by force? Throughout the chapters he hasn't really tried to take the pendant away, although I think Romeo's more than capable of it. He is stronger than Kaito and the latter didn't have any protectors before Luca (Tohma and Jin are also not shown to be close enough to Kaito to defend him in the past). Otherwise, there must have been tons of opportunities for Romeo to hurt or kill Kaito and take away the pendant, everyone dies left and right, even when they were on the mission — little accident, minus one ghoul, nobody would've probably suspected anything. Why hasn't Romeo taken the pendant away already?

Regarding **Romeo's time and effort**: despite being the busy man Romeo claims he is, he still finds time to regularly look around for Kaito, calling his name, and with a gun. He asks MC for Kaito's schedule — twice. He spams Kaito with messages. He locks Kaito in the cage in his private office very few people know about — this is just another level, because why. He also takes Kaito on a mission with him, when being told that was his chance to assemble the best possible team — notably, he goes for Kaito before contacting his actual friends, and also has to threaten Kaito to go with him in first place. On the mission, it's Romeo's decision to split, and both times he takes Kaito with him, also physically dragging him and just casually intimidating him along the way.

Who would go that far for the indebted guy? Or even for a pendant? It's more like Romeo's interested in Kaito being constantly around, but also, why?

Regarding **Romeo's attitude**: he's the mix of tenderness and frustration when it comes to Kaito. The phrase he use to call him is *Doko itta no, dete oide?* which translates kinda like *Where have you gone? Come on, come out!* and is often used to talk to animals and kids. He also uses *Fuji-kun*, emphasising on either Kaito being his kouhai, or being on friendly terms with him. He's very touchy when it comes to Kaito — grabbing his hand, his collar, his ear, shaking his shoulders, clamping a hand over his mouth. It's not necessarily tender, but it seems that Romeo finds it absolutely natural to act towards Kaito in such way. Romeo's also often implying Kaito acts unreasonable towards him when not willing to comply, like when Kaito is hiding or running away from him, or when he doesn't want to go on the mission. One time he says something along the lines "there's more on the map than that, so just shut up and do as I say", implying it's in Kaito's interest to listen to him.

**Why does Romeo seem to be convinced that Kaito should be doing as he says without asking questions?**

Regarding **Kaito's attitude**: Kaito isn't shown to be super intimidated by Romeo. Yes, he runs away away from him, and in one voiceline he mentions he started getting chills when someone calls his name because of Romeo — so it's not like Kaito doesn't recognise Romeo as a threat. However, Kaito is constantly talking back and resisting. When talking to Romeo, Kaito openly questions his decisions, mocks him, swears at him, uses *omae*, simply disagrees and Romeo has to put *a lot of* effort to actually get Kaito to do something — and half of the time, Kaito doesn't do what is expected of him anyway. He talks to Romeo almost freely, definitely less scared than with Jin or with Tohma, or even with Ren or Jiro. Interestingly, Kaito uses *Romeo-san*, instead of *-senpai*, like with Tohma and Jin. Kaito also doesn't seem to have a clue about why Romeo is following him, but he's not interesting in figuring it out either, just "weird guy, ugh how annoying, does he ever stop".

Unlike Romeo who perceives his own actions as natural, justified as "Well I'm just collecting debt", Kaito openly talks about how strange Romeo acts towards him. Locked in the cage, he says "shut up, kidnapping creep" and "do you even realise how unhinged you sound" when Romeo says no one would save him from there... When MC says "he has certainly taken a liking to you", Kaito corrects "liking, more like stalking".

For now, no one except Luca and to some degree MC hasn't commented on Romeo's and Kaito's connection — do they know? Or do they don't care? Or both.

Regarding **timeline**: Kaito mentions Romeo has been on his tail for half of the year. Before that, he wasn't even in the gambling den. This lines up with the estimated time of the Clash. Does Romeo's interested in Kaito has something to do with the Clash? Did it just happen in the same time? Kaito says he has somehow avoided the Clash — he himself doesn't connect the Clash with Romeo's interest in him. Kaito doesn't seem to connect Romeo's interest with anything, implying it was sudden. It could be that the determining point of the Romeo's interest was the moment Romeo was looking at Kaito from a distance, if Kaito cannot remember any special confrontation. What doesn't line up is the warding card of Romeo standing above Kaito and looking at his pendant — judging by his expression, for the first time. Who wouldn't have remembered this situation? Another thing, Kaito mentions that he hasn't seen Romeo much before, and he wasn't even in the gambling den. So although Romeo justifies his hobby by collecting debt, he possibly wasn't that interested in collecting this debt initially, before that special point six month ago.

Regarding **paperwork**: Luca repays Kaito's debt in the prologue, another simple solution to Kaito repaying his debt and Romeo not having to go after him ever again. Yet Romeo claims "he still owes rate of interest, so it's not enough to buy his freedom". To which Luca replies "I'd like to see the paperwork then", and Romeo's muttering he "hates men with brain". Other than Kaito commenting on how he didn't know about the rate of interest (which could be written off as ignorance, and not necessarily as Romeo deceiving him), Romeo's comment suggests there might be something unclear with the documentation. Another important paper is the one Romeo threatens to show the MC when telling Kaito to join him on the mission. It is not the debt-related issue — MC already knows about it. It is something that Kaito feels to be embarrassed about, and something that allows Romeo to say "you really think you can say no?". In the prologue, when Romeo demands pendant, Kaito also replies with "this is one thing you will never get from me" — one thing? Does that mean Kaito agrees in some way Romeo can demand anything else? The paper which Romeo threatens to show the MC — which conditions are written there?

Let's assume that Kaito does owe Romeo more than money. What exactly is Romeo gaining in this situation? Why would he need specifically Kaito's compliance in the first place? Why Kaito of all people, of all ghouls. Okay, maybe Romeo thinks it's handy to get a guy who he can threaten to do anything. Why would he put so much energy into keeping Kaito close to him — especially on the occasions that could've used more catered to the situations ghouls, like the mission. Judging by how he addresses Kaito as "plebeian", he doesn't think Kaito's pendant connects him with the powerful family, plus he comments how Kaito doesn't know its true value. So Romeo is not after Kaito's potential prestige.

Romeo's behaviour doesn't make sense. It especially doesn't make sense considering he *is acting rationally* when it comes to missions, or his income, or dealing with others, which means there *is* an explanation for how he acts with Kaito — my guess, it directly or indirectly includes money, or another physical value.

What is notable, is that *Romeo is deliberately keeping Kaito close* and *monitors his actions*.

What are your thoughts? Have I missed something? I'd die to discuss, really. I see all these signs, but I can't really understand what it means. I know we are quite early in the story, but for the 13 chapters the story has been very consistent with the relationship between Romeo and Kaito, and Kaito's pendant. I'm super interested to know what others think!

[shirogane-oushirou]

no promises anymoooooreeeee i'll appear online when i appear online 😭 every time i say "ooh i think life is almost done being overwhelming!" it. becomes even more overwhelming in the dumbest ways. all i can manage rn when i'm not stressing myself into a shut-down state is staring at the wall while listening to youtube essays + mindlessly crocheting.

i might queue up ppls art and fics w/o commentary in the tags... i want other ppl to see what all of my cool friends have made, but i genuinely can't think right now with this monstrous brain fog. i'm really sorry, just. yeah. maybe i'll think of some way to make it up later!!! once the dust has settled!!!! but until then i wuv u and miss u. smiles.

[venting in tags including familial manipulation and ableism. i. didn't mean to write all of that, thiss was originally going to be a main blog post but. aaaaaAAAAAA!!!!!

also no need for replies or anything, i'd turn them off for just the one post if i could kjsndkn, i just needed to get things out and go eep jsjndsfdn ok bye bye bye bye!!!!]

[girlivealwaysbean]

hey god if you've created someone for me can you introduce me to them sooner? i kinda need them now

[here-there-were-dragons]

my mother is absolutely convinced of some nonsense conspiracy theory that (in her words) "originally humanity lived in peaceful all-woman societies of goddess worshippers who took care of eachother and lived in harmony, while males were roving loners that had no society and never cooperated. that changed when the men banded together and overthrew the peaceful woman-dominated societies, and enslaved us all." and, according to her, this is proof that a woman-dominated world would be innately more peaceful, and that men are innately violent and evil and should be either barred from holding any legal power or leadership roles or at least should be (again in her words) "gelded like bulls" to remove their testosterone before even being considered for such a thing.

she also evidently believes that the problem with all religions today is primarily that they aren't "goddess worshippers", because she seems to think goddess religions are inherently peaceful and pure too and seems to be especially obsessed with "Isis" in particular. the very very few times she's openly considered it unambiguously bad for some population or another to have been exterminated (she's got a bad case of devil's advocating genocide brain), she's gone out of her way to make up some crap about how said people were a peaceful society of goddess-worshippers, almost always of isis. delusions of isis-worship seem to be the only thing that ever causes her to consider any arab or middle-eastern culture, society, or ethnicity to be relatively uncomplicatedly undeserving of extermination, in fact, because every fucking time she doesn't immediately start devils-advocating it and making remarks about how "the rest of the world should box them in and let them blow eachother up" it's when she's whinging on about how whatever specific micro-ethnicity she's thinking about are or were traditional persecuted isis-worshippers.

the sole major exception to her weird fixation on isis worship justifying worthiness of life is the whole israel thing going on, in which she has consistently made very obvious that literally the only reason she's against the genocide of palestine is because it gives her an excuse to even more openly hate jewish people than she already did. and honestly i'm not sure even that's true because i think she's made some offhand remarks about palestinians having probably been peaceful isis worshipers before the jews infected them with christianity or something anyway.

so for the last, however fucking long it's been i've been constantly having to listen to her go off about how this behavior is in the jew's blood or whatever and that they literally invented all genocide because somehow the concept didn't exist before them and wouldn't have ever been invented by the rest of humanity without those jewish aliens dropping it in i fucking guess apparently and she furthermore goes on about how every single genocide and mass-oppression movement in history is directly inspired by them, ESPECIALLY the nazis, and THEN i have to listen to her rant about how, basically, wwii was something they entirely brought on themselves by "dominating the economy and treating everyone not them like shit" and the nazis were just "using their own tactics back at them". and then she goes on a rant about how the people the original jews exterminated back in the day (aka the first ever genocide, which they invented, because jews invented genocide and hate according to her) in the middle east region were peaceful matriarchal isis-worshipers.

and then she starts making comments about arabs being backwards and palestinians either being mysogynist muslims that should be boxed in to blow eachother up with everyone else or secret peaceful isis worshippers corrupted by men's cruel hand, sometimes in the same sentence, entirely dependent on which group she's more in the mood to hate at the time.

it's exhausting. beyond exhausting. her sole purpose in existence seems to be to have the singularly most exhausting set of politics physically possible to fit into one person.

just, sometimes i think, if there really is anything at all to the incredibly stupid and inexplicably popular idea that anyone or anything has a Purpose tm to exist for, i feel like my mother's purpose is to be walking proof to me of a Type Of Guy That Is Real, cause i sure as fuck would have trouble inventing this mess if it wasn't standing right in front of me spewing confusingly bipartisan hate. all of her thoughts and opinions are these long winding nonsense chains that feel like if that man carrying thing sketch about the friend with confusing politics was a person. on meth.

[scallisaac]

.

[edwardshundredyearoldspunk]

…

[zipquips]

.

[teaboot]

On of the less intuitive things about love, I've found, of any kind, is the importance of needing things.

I didn't realize it until recently, but I've always seen love as something requiring sacrifice, selflessness, patience, and generosity- to ask for nothing is to be the best person I can be, small and quiet and never in the way, always happy and helpful, self-sufficient and present when desired.

It's only as an adult, now, that I'm beginning to see the selfishness of wanting nothing.

I cut my friend's hair in my kitchen the other day. They wanted a trim and I had the skills, so I offered, and was genuinely excited when they stopped hesitating over "bothering me" and took me up on it. It was a peaceful afternoon, and we had tea and chatted for an hour or more.

My brother and I shared popcorn at the movies a while ago. When I came time to pay, I pulled my card out like a wild western sheriff and slapped it on the machine before he could fight me for it first. The satisfaction was delightful.

Someone called me crying on the phone the other day. Kept apologizing for disturbing me at work, talking about how they were bothering me on my lunch break. I was telling the truth when I told them that really, I was flattered and honored and relieved, knowing that if they were hurting I would know, that I didn't have to worry in silence. It felt good to hear them slowly come down, and to know that they knew it would be better soon, and to hear them laugh wetly on the other end. We're getting together for a visit next week.

It's hard to need things, if you've trained yourself not to. It's hard to want things, when you don't know how to want anymore. Trusting people is difficult, and so is relying on them, but I don't know where I'd be without the people who rely on me.

I've heard a lot of people say, "Nobody will love you unless you love yourself". I've had a lot of thoughts about it. It's not right, but it's not wrong, either, I think.

"Nobody will love you unless you love yourself"... I've always taken that to mean, "You will not be lovable until you develop a positive view of yourself as a person".

Now, I think it's sort of inside-out.

"Nobody will love you unless you love yourself"... because nobody can show their love to you in a way that you can accept until you treat yourself kindly, and learn what you need, and what you want, and how to ask for it, and then give that vulnerability away.

Love, for me, is someone I ask for a ride to the airport. Whether they end up doing this or not is irrelevant.

It's not needy, or selfish, or taking up energy. It's giving the gift of being wanted, and needed, and thought of. It's giving someone the security of being part of someone's life.

[beast-of-the-void]

.

[gaypirate420]

Kaleidoscope // Viktor

S2!Viktor x gender neutral!reader.

Summary: You're staring at his eyes.

Fluff. Spoilers!!!!

Viktor stares at his hand, that purple flowing and metallic skin. He just healed? Cured? an addict from the undercity, his mismatched pupils look up.

At you.

You followed behind when he left Jayce's lab, you were too determined and he didn't fight as hard as he wanted, in other times he would tell you to stay with Jayce, stay safe. He didn't keep you away from the Hexcore without reason, but he couldn't fight, as much as his mind was screaming at him, he just nodded monotonously after a couple of pleas.

Your eyes meet his, you sit down in front of him, whimpering slightly, after the explosion of the Council left you with an injured leg.

His eyes dart back down, he could just reach out and you wouldn't be in pain anymore but he closes his fingers and lowers his hand to his lap. He needs to understand a little more about this new... identity of his before he even attempts to touch you in any sort of way, he doesn't want to risk it. Sky disappeared in front of him like dust in the wind, he can't do that to you.

You smiled softly. His furrowed eyebrows soften.

"How are you feeling?" You asked with a soft whisper. He sighs, his eyes don't leave yours, in one hand he isn't feeling pain, that ache, that little needle-like sensation that infested his leg and back since he had memory. But on the other hand, he doesn't feel much, he isn't scared but also not happy, he isn't completely aware of what is happening but he is not mindless.

You keep looking at him, that smile doesn't falter and that is comforting. You're not scared of him not even after what you just saw.

"I don't know." He answers, there's a small shiver down your back, his speech pattern has changed, it's slow and monotone but there's some sparkles of emotions in it, it's not like he has talked much for you to completely understand yet.

You nod at his words, God you were so patient with him, always have been.

Your eyes don't leave his, the amber eyes he held are nowhere to be found, now a duller color replaces them but there's this drop of cyan, maybe crimson at times that moves around the two irises.

"Is there something wrong?" He asks, you shake your head.

"Nothing wrong, Vitya. I'm just looking at your eyes." You speak softly, scooting a little closer towards him.

Vitya.

His lips twitch ever so slightly, yes he is your Vitya, at least he thinks he is and you don't seem to look at him any differently, there's still that deep affection in your eyes, of course there is worry in your gaze, but the devoted love remains.

"What's with them?" He speaks again.

"They're different..." You whispered as you leaned your face closer. He doesn't move, he remembers the feeling, after years of being with you his heart still went wild when you approached, but now it's dull, but it's there. He knows it is, it's just a little distant, just in the tip of his fingers.

"Like- copper...but...there's this- bleeding of color.." You whispered as your eyes fixated on his, you were so close. Your breath against his face, lips near that beauty mark you loved to kiss.

"Like a kaleidoscope." You whispered, you didn't pull away, you missed having him so close. Viktor nods at your words, he hasn't seen himself fully yet.

You two stare at each other for a couple of seconds. Your hand hesitantly reaches up and cups his face, muscle memory is a hell of a thing, he immediately nuzzles his face against your hand. It's familiar yet he feels like this is the first time touching you.

He feels you. Not just your gentle hand or soft skin, you. It's a different kind of touch, like he's touching your soul, your very being.

You contain your excitement. He is still there. You smiled softly. His eyes flutter as he feels a faint sensation of your lips against his beauty mark.

He stays silent. It was dull, like a ghost touched him yet like every star in the sky placed a kiss upon his face.

"Will you do that again, please?" He whispers, meeting your eyes once more.

A/N: (Divider) Hiiii, hope you like this, I wasn't sure about writing something so fast, but I needed to get rid of the feeling. I loved Act 1, it was worth staying up til 5 am, Viktor has bewitched my soul completely, I don't have a lot of opinions, just questions, I'm going to wait until the whole season is over to talk about it and the characters. Enjoy the fic! Send requests please.

[envy-of-the-apple]

Third Wheel

Dark!SatoSugu x reader

(Warnings: Yandere, dark content, dark, misogynistic language, delusional behavior, kidnapping, blood, violence, +ShokoHime x reader, choking (not in the sexy way tho), threesomes, oral!F!recieving)

Synopsis: Regardless of what Satoru and Suguru tell you, you've always felt left out in this relationship. But when you leave, you quickly find out there's no line your ex-lovers won't cross to get you back

Word Count: 7.3k

When you come home that night, they're already cuddled together, watching TV. 

It's cute. Your boyfriends were always so loose with their affection. When Suguru was cooking, Satoru would lean on his back, more than happy to talk his ear off. Suguru would hold Satoru's waist, steadying him, being his anchor. At night, you'd catch them reaching for each other, trying to hold hands even in their sleep. 

It's clear to even the blind: they are soulmates. 

And you were just extra baggage. 

You don't know how you caught their eyes, but this past year was fun. They've been sweet, both of them have. Inviting you into their lives, into their home, into their bed. Everything moved so fast, but you didn't mind. You were young and a bit spontaneous. Two beautiful men showing a glimpse of interest in you wasn't something you could pass up. This was nice, while it lasted. 

But unlike them, you aren't forever. Their bond would never come close to anything they could have with you. 

It took a while for you to accept that, but eventually, you did. 

"Hey, babe," Satoru calls. "Rough day?" He lazily waves you over. Suguru grunts, before shifting over to make space. 

Despite it all, you're a coward. You don't announce it; you just stare at them. Fondly. Yes, this was nice. You don't think you could handle telling them, though; that would be too much. Seeing how little they cared would break you. 

"Yeah." You give. "Rough day." 

You weave through the house. It's theirs. Not yours. That they've made clear. You're an afterthought. It's the little things. Their toothbrushes are together, yours on the other side of the sink. Their shoes were neatly stacked side by side, and yours were always tucked away in a corner. Left out. Forgotten. Why wouldn't it be like that? They've been together for years. You were still an outsider. 

You only have a little to grab. You just grab your extra clothes, the hair clips you have a terrible habit of leaving around. Just a few items. And then the bedroom looks like you'd never been there at all. 

When you come back out, they don't notice your suitcase. Satoru laughs loudly at something happening on screen. Suguru chides him sternly. Good. It's better this way, you think as you take your suitcase to your car. You don't need any additional heartbreak. 

You make a few more rounds, collecting everything you need. Suguru only catches you when you are about to leave their house forever. 

"Angel?" He calls. "Where are you going?" 

He's looking at you, head tilted in mild curiosity. You manage to smile, looking down at your car keys. 

"Out for a drive." You shrug. "I'll be back." 

Suguru takes it at face value. He lets you go with a small 'have fun'. The walk to the car is heavy. Metal dumbbells on your shoulders. 

When you get in the seat, you finally allow yourself to sob. 

~

I'm sorry, I just can't do this anymore

That's how you ended the wall of text before blocking them. It was the coward's way out. 

"No." Utahime's quick to tell you. "It's the only way. Those bastards would've never let you go otherwise." 

You shouldn't be so quick to listen to her, considering she hates them both. Still, she was more than happy to offer you her home while you picked yourself back up, and started looking for an apartment. You'll humor her for the time being. 

"She's right," Shoko pipes up. Her dark circles are even more prominent tonight. You guiltily think it has more to do with you than with her patients, but she and Utahime have insisted that you stay with them. 

"It was for my sake, more than theirs." You say honestly, tucking yourself into the couch. "They...don't care about me. At least, not like they do each other." 

Utahime rolls her eyes. "You are blind." She says. "Those two were obsessed with you. I'm just glad you got out while you could." 

You laugh, but it beats crying all over again. Utahime doesn't find what she said as funny. She chides you again, something about being oblivious before she settles down to watch the movie she put on. Shoko falls asleep right at the intermission. Her head falls against your shoulder. Utahime leans against you too. And it's nice to have friends to fill the void they left. 

~

Satoru appears first. 

You woke up later than you would have liked. Your eyes are itchy and red from crying all night. Utahime was more than happy to give you her guestroom, but you know you can't take advantage of her kindness for too long. Tomorrow, you'll start apartment hunting. 

Today, you'd sit on the couch and eat ice cream. 

When you go downstairs, you hear a hushed whisper. Utahime's by the door, using her body to keep someone out. She looks angry. 

"-No one's here but me. Now get the fuck off my property." She seethes. 

You recognize his voice. You aren't ready. "Have you heard anything? Anything at all?" 

"No." Utahime gripes. "So go, Gojo-" 

He catches your eyes. Your heart gets stuck in your throat. 

He's taller than her. It takes little to no effort to barrel through her body, easily shoving her aside to get to you. You flinch, his touch burns when he grabs you, pulling you into his arms. 

"Oh, baby." He sighs into your hair. "There you are. Missed you." 

It's too soon. You aren't ready. You can still feel the emotions bubble up from that night, when you collapsed in Utahime's arms, sobbing your heart out. This wasn't fair. They never made it fair. 

You cast a glance at Utahime. She was scowling, close to boiling right over the edge. It gives you enough strength to try to push Gojo off, but he only lets go, when he wants to. 

"Okay." He smiles, reaching down to grab your hand. "C'mon. Let's go home. You had us both so worried for a sec, but if we explain everything to Suguru it'll be okay." 

You find your voice then. As well as your strength. His grip on your hand isn't all that tight. It slips away when you gently shake him off. Satoru stops, confused. 

"Satoru..." You start. "Didn't you get my text?" 

He rolls his shoulders, agitated. "Yeah, but-but it doesn't matter." 

There it was. His lovable personality. Casual careless, nonchalance. For once, you aren't annoyed by it. Maybe your grief made you numb to it. 

"I did mean it," you say as plainly as you can, "every word." 

He freezes. You smile at Utahime. 

"Could you give us some time?" You ask. 

She frowns, but she's never been able to say no to you. 

"Ten minutes." She finally says, before she's marching back to the kitchen. You still hear her muttering while leading Satoru back to your room. 

"I'm sorry." He says when the door shuts behind him. 

"For what?" 

He runs a hand through his hair, taking off those glasses he loves so much. You can't look him in the eyes for too long. It brings up too many memories. 

"I fucked up, right?" He says, he sounds desperate. You've never heard him sound like this before. "I'm sorry. I dunno what I did, but I'm sorry." 

You shrug, picking at the lint of your sleeves. "You didn't do anything. I just...it felt like a good point to just-" 

"-Leave us?" He cuts in. "Come home, baby. I'm so sorry, just come home and we'll figure this out." You look away because you can feel the tears burn up. 

"You didn't do anything." You insist, but your voice is weaker. 

"Was it Suguru? Did he do some bullshit?" Satoru interrogates. "What'd he do? I'll kick his ass, I promise." You hide your smile underneath your sleeves. 

"He didn't do anything either," you assure, "neither of you did." 

He's getting more and more desperate. "Then why did you leave us? What's wrong with us? Why can't we go home and talk this out? Please come back, baby; home doesn't feel like home without you." 

Isn't this what you wanted? A confession. Evidence that they wanted you just as much as they wanted each other. Satoru certainly did. Suguru did, too, considering how hurt Satoru implied him to be. A week ago, you might have been over the moon, too wallowed in self-pity to do anything but agree, run back into their arms, and willingly sink back into 2nd place all over again. 

But the thought of going back to their home makes you feel sick. 

"I can't." You decide. "I just can't. It's over, Satoru." 

I'm sorry. You keep that last line to yourself because you're too scared to crack in front of him. Shatter. Splinter. 

Satoru doesn't share the same sentiment. You hear movement, and when you look up, he's crying. 

A part of you wants to hug him, but you hold yourself back because he isn't yours anymore, and maybe he never was. Still, it hurts seeing him like this. The piece of you that still wanted him is ready to forgive and forget. Your vindictiveness keeps it at bay. 

"That's not fucking fair." He's saying through his tears, even when he's crying, he's beautiful, "You-you can't just ditch us like this. You don't get it; we can't live without you. It's killing us; you're killing us, baby." He staggers forward, in a way that makes you afraid he might fall. In the end, he just collapses on the bed. Eventually, you take a seat next to him. 

He's looking around, you catch him eyeing the pile of clothes in the laundry basket. The hair ties on top of the drawer. The plushies on the bed. You think it might finally be starting to sink that that you're truly gone. 

"Suguru can't sleep these days, y'know that?" He starts, a sardonic laugh in his throat. "He pretends to, but he can't. He stays up all night just wishing you'd come home. The guy is miserable without you, and you can't even gimme a fucking answer." 

His voice cuts you just the way it's supposed to. You wince, feeling his words slice into his skin, finding their way into your heart. You look at his shoes for a moment. He didn't bother to remove them. Maybe that's another reason why Utahime was so pissed. 

"I was starting to feel like an afterthought with you two." You speak. "I mean, it makes sense, you two were together, first. I thought the barrier would just take time to go away....but then it didn't." 

How many times has Suguru taken Satoru's hand over yours? How many times has Satoru forgotten your drink but not Suguru's? How many inside jokes you didn't understand? You always felt petty for being jealous over the tiniest things, but those tiny things kept getting bigger and bigger until it felt like they'd been purposely building that barrier themselves.

You were sick of feeling like the third wheel in your relationship. 

"Baby..." Satoru's voice is tinged in guilt and you can't look at him because you can feel the tears start to well up. "I-I didn't realize." He grabs your hand. 

"Come home." He pleads. "We'll fix it, I promise. We'll be better. We'll do better." 

You shake your head, slipping away from his grip. 

"It's too late." Your voice is shaky. Please let him not notice. Please, please, please for once can his oblivious about everything but his one and only work in your favor? "You can't fix anything, Satoru. Not now." 

"You haven't even given us a chance to-" 

"You should go." You stand up. Satoru follows you out the door. Utahime's already outside. She catches your eyes and nods. 

"Gojo." She speaks, tone clipped. "Get the fuck out of my house." 

He stills, frozen like the prettiest painting in the world. His eyes turn to ice as he stares at her. Utahime doesn't budge. If anything, she advances, pulling you close, acting like a human barrier between you and your ex-boyfriend. You take it immediately, nestling into her side, taking refuge from his icy stare. 

There's silence. You only relax when you hear his footsteps fade and the door slams ricochets into the apartment. And that's when you break down into Utahime's arms completely, letting her coo you into comfort. 

"Maybe I am being overdramatic," you say when Shoko comes back later that day. Utahime was enraged since Satoru left, pacing around the apartment. It's only after both you and Shoko coaxed her back into the couch that she calms down enough to take a seat next to you. 

"Maybe this whole thing is ridiculous. I-I should just go back and-"

"No." Shoko is immediately saying voice firm. "Absolutely Not." 

You can smell the hint of smoke when she came back from the hospital. You try not to assume it's because of you. 

"No way in hell are we letting you go back there after what he did." Utahime gripes. 

"He didn't do anything." You argue. "I swear, I-I was just...being pathetic." 

Warm hands lift your head up. You struggle, still shuddering from your sobs as Utahime forces you to look at her. 

Her eyes are brown. Not as glittery as Satoru's, who's eyes shine like the burning sun itself. Not like Suguru, with his celestial purple. No, hers are just brown. 

You didn't realize how beautiful brown eyes could be. Not just the color of home; the color of chocolate; the color of brownies. The way the light cast down at them made them deep and dark, like a night sky. If you looked closer, you could see tiny stars swimming around. 

"Listen. Are you listening?" When you nod, her voice softens. She tucks your hair behind your ear. 

"You deserve better." She insists. "You deserve better than them. So so much better. I know you can't see it right now, but there is better out there waiting for you." Her voice loses all momentum all at once. "Just...trust me, okay?" 

Her desperation to be heard makes you smile a bit. You nod. Her frown loosens, just the tiniest bit. She relaxes. 

"Thanks," you say after a beat. "I...I needed that. I'm glad I have goods friends." 

Utahime's hands drop from your face. She collapses into the couch cushions with a groan. Shoko laughs. 

"Told you." Shoko says, mirth and alcohol on her tongue. 

Utahime flips her off, and Shoko takes her place. She settles into your side. 

"They were assholes." She tells you. "Forget about them. And she's right, you deserve better." 

You were glad they were there for you, even when you weren't there for yourself. It felt nice that they cared. Vouched, Advocated for your comfort. They made better boyfriends than your old boyfriends ever did. Their support helped heal the Satoru and Suguru-sized holes left in your heart. Every day became a bit better. 

When Suguru eventually turned up, you were a bit more prepared. 

He's a bit nicer than Satoru was. He actually knocks, instead of relentlessly pounding on the door. He doesn't barrel through Shoko when he spots you cowering behind her. His face betrays nothing. He's still. A polite smile is stretched on his lips. Shoko isn't happy about letting him into her home, but when she glances at you, you nod. You needed to do this. You needed closure. 

And so did Suguru. 

You don't speak to him until you're shut in your room. Geto cuts the silence first. 

"How have you been?" He asks nicely. 

"Good." You respond. "You?" 

"Good." 

Conversation stilts. You don't know what to say. Luckily, your ex is never the man who stays silent for long. 

"How's living with Shoko and Utahime been?" He asks, "I'm surprised you've put up with them for this long. They were pretty scary in high school." 

"I bet you two were scarier." You counter. 

He smiles. It's soft, looks good on him. You find yourself smiling back. When you take a seat on the the of the bed, he doesn't follow. You don't know whether to feel glad or not. 

"Yeah, I'm not the proudest of those times." He admits with a sheepish laugh. 

It dies down, and you know the artificial barrier between you two has broken. You shift, waiting for the inevitable. 

"Satoru told me what happened." He sighs. "I'm sorry, Angel. We-I didn't know how you felt. Everything was so perfect, I just thought you felt the same." 

"It's fine." You assure, and this time, your throat doesn't clog up, and your eyes don't feel itchy. "Really. It's-it's fine." 

"It's not." Suguru shakes his head. "You'd be in bed with us if it were." 

That comment pricks something deep within your skin. You swallow, turning away from his piercing purple eyes. They were much like Satoru's. Breathtaking, you could stare at them for hours. You used to. 

But now, you don't have that desire anymore. 

And maybe now that you aren't so attached, maybe you could try being a little more honest. 

"I was jealous." You finally admit. "I couldn't help it. I-I always felt like I was fighting within my relationship. You two were so much closer to each other than I was. Than I ever could be, honestly." 

Suguru frowns, troubled. 

"That's not true." He insists, soft, but something's burning underneath his tone. "Satoru and I have history, but that doesn't mean-" 

"I was runner-up." You cut him off. "For both of you. Looking back, I'm not really upset. It was always impossible for anything to come between the two of you. This-" You gesture between you and him "-was always inevitable." 

"It's my fault." You smile at him, hoping it comes across as sincere as you feel. "I couldn't stand being second place." 

He moves then, kneeling in front of you. Eyes the widest you've ever seen them. He catches your hands in his. You let him. A parting gift. 

"Angel." He starts. "We never once thought of you as that." 

You shrug. "It doesn't matter." You reply. "It's how I always felt. You can't really change the way I feel about things, Suguru." 

You think he's realizing that he's beginning to lose you. His grip gets tighter as if he can physically keep you with him at the very least. He shifts until he's right at your knees, looking up at you desperately. 

"Come back." He insists, abandoning his persuasions. "Just...come back. At least for a little while? We can try again, can't we? Just give us a second chance?" 

It's strange, they don't look too similar, but you can see the similarities. Wow, they're just perfect for each other, aren't they? Yin and Yang. Two halves; one whole. 

You were always a leftover. You just had to learn that the hard way, through days of heartbreak, crying, and sobbing your heart out. It took you awhile to understand that the affection they had for each other is different from the affection they had for you. 

You shake your head. His hands nearly crush yours. 

"I love you." 

It takes you a while to figure out what he said. When it does sink in, your world tilts. Your heart stops at his abrupt declaration and you must stare at him because why? At first, you think he's just desperate: lovebombing. And then you look into his eyes, his sincerity. No, he means it. It makes you feel worse. 

"Satoru does, too, but you know him-he'd rather die than admit something like that." Suguru gives a bitter laugh, one you find familiar even after all this time. "I've always wanted to tell you but thought it was too soon. I thought we had all the time in the world." His voice tapers so he doesn't have to say the obvious but clearly you three didn't. 

You want to reach over, tuck a stray lock behind his ear but you stop yourself because he isn't yours anymore. You gave it all away when you ran. Instead, you curl your hands around his in silent understanding. 

You don't know how you didn't realize it before, but Suguru is less put together than usual. His hair is typically well-groomed and shiny, but now you see split ends. His eyes are clear and bright, but today...they aren't. A dull purple. Hazy violet. 

He's miserable. 

You did this. This was all you. 

"Satoru misses you," he says, "always had. Barely smiles anymore. I don't think I can blame him." 

They loved you. They love you. This was all what you wanted. Just a bit of recognition. There's a tiny part of you that's still itching to jump back in Suguru's arms, kiss him until you're out of breath 'just kidding! it was a prank! let's go home!' and then you two would leave hand-in-hand back to Satoru. 

Going back to them would make them happy, but not you.

But Shoko was right. You deserved better. 

 "It'll get better." You assure. "You'll heal." 

Day by day, the cracks in your heart start to seal. Bit by bit. It may never heal over completely, but you know you'll be okay one day. And they'll be alright too. Who knows, maybe in a couple years, you'll all laugh at this. 

Suguru shakes his head and stands up. His eyes are just the bit glassy, but he's blinking them away before anything gives. It's just like him, honestly, so you're not too upset. 

"You don't get it." He's smiling, not quite in humor. "I don't think you'll ever do but..." He trails off, mid-thought. 

"But what?" You press. 

Then he sighs and closes his eyes. When he looks at you again, his signature pleasantly cold smile is on his face. 

"I did all I could, I think." He turns around, abrupt. "I'll see myself out." 

You're caught off-guard by his sudden departure, but by the time you're following him, Shoko's already leading him out the front door, locking it with exasperation. 

"Is that it?" She asks. "They won't be barging in anytime soon, right?" 

You stare out the window, watching as Suguru gets in his car. Something bubbled in your stomach. 

~

It was one of those nights. Shoko had come back early. Utahime was back from the school. You had planned a cute little evening for the girls and a relaxing night in. You had everything: wine, freshly-prepared dinner, a cheesy horror movie, and an announcement you're sure they were more than happy to hear.

You had just settled down the blanket when you hear Shoko come through the door. You take off her coat before she can even touch it, excitedly flitting around her. 

"What's gotten you in such a good mood?" Shoko asks, her dark circles even more profound than before. You don't have to feel guilty about those for long. 

"You'll see!" You chirp back. 

Utahime strolls out of the bathroom, fresh from the shower. Her hair is still wet. You'll ask if you can blow dry it later. 

"That's what you've been saying for nearly an hour now." Utahime groans. "Just tell us already. Or at least, me."

"Patience." You chastise. "But, it's a good surprise, I promise." 

She's not satisfied, but she sits down anyway. They eat dinner, complimenting your skills all the while. You preen at their praise. It's a stark contrast between Suguru and Satoru, how cold they'd often been whenever you did something nice for them: tilted smiles, less-than-receptive words of 'oh baby you didn't have to'. 

As you lived with both couples, you can see the similarities. Utahime's temper is close to Satoru's, but that's where the similarities stop. She's more serious and less likely to blow off your feelings with a playful huff. Shoko and Suguru share the same laid-back personality, but Shoko is always there to listen to you instead of cutting you off with condescending sympathy. 

Wow, maybe Satoru and Suguru were a little more shitty than you initially thought. 

Eventually, the night draws to a close. They're drunk, full, and smiling. Perfect. You clear your throat just when Shoko refills her fourth glass. 

"Again, I'd really like to thank you for letting me stay." You start. "It meant so much to me to have two amazing people to support me like this. So, thank you." 

Utahime smiles. "Don't thank us," she says, "again, you can stay for as long as you want-forever, honestly!" 

You nod. "Well, I don't think I have to do that anymore." 

Shoko freezes mid-sip. 

"What?" She asks. 

"I talked to my parents." You tell them, oblivious to their stone faces. "And I'm going to move back in with them, just until I get back on my feet. Isn't that great? Now, you two won't have to-" 

You stop when you finally notice how cold they look. Utahime looks close to tears. 

"What's wrong?" You ask. 

"You're leaving?" Utahime asks, her voice nearly cracks. "Why?" 

That...wasn't what you were expecting. Shouldn't they be glad the third wheel is finally out of their house? Why does Utahime look so heartbroken? Why is Shoko so quiet? What was going on?

"Isn't-isn't this what you wanted?" You fumble with your words. "Now, you don't have to share the house with me anymore. It'll be just the two of you again." 

They exchange glances, and it reminds you of those secret conversations Suguru and Satoru used to have. Except this time, you can read their faces. 

"What if...we don't want it to be just the two of us anymore?" Shoko starts, hesitant, reproachful like she's approaching a scared wild animal. 

Your eyebrows scrunch. "I don't understand." 

At that, Utahime drops her head in her hands. "Oh, c'mon! We've been doing this for weeks! You can't be that oblivious-" 

And then, she stops herself. Looks at you. You stare right back, and the three of you have the exact same realization at the exact same time. 

"Oh." You breathe. 

"Oh." Utahime whispers. 

"We're all idiots." Shoko says behind her glass. 

"Wait wait. Hold on." You backtrack. "You-you two want...with me?" 

"Yes!" Utahime exclaims. "Yes! God, now everything makes sense. I thought you were just trying to let us down gently, but this whole time you just weren't even paying attention!" 

"No." You argue, face hot. "You two were just really subtle." 

"We all sleep in the same room, these days." Shoko lists. "'Hime sat on your lap with nothing on but a bra and panties." 

"I thought we were just doing friend things!" 

"What kinds of friends sit on your lap, half-naked?" Utahime asks, mortified. 

"I-I-" You give up. 

All this time. You were mourning over something you lost months ago, even when there was something blooming right under your nose. God, you're an idiot. 

Hands. They clasp your own. You look up into Utahime's pretty brown eyes. 

"We want you to stay." She whispers. "We want you." You take a glance at Shoko. 

"Do you want us?" 

You take a deep breath. 

You nod. 

She's smiling, and then Utahime's kissing you. Soft, so soft, nothing like the possessive kisses Satoru gives you. It's innocent and adoring and you find yourself melting into her completely. 

Utahime disappears and before you can mourn her warmth, Shoko's lips join yours. You can smell the alcohol, the slightest sting of cigarettes. You don't mind it. Her kisses are nothing like Suguru's, all powerful and domineering. She takes what you give her, asking ever so nicely for more. 

You break away, panting. 

"You good?" She asks. 

You nod. 

"Good." Shoko hums. "Cuz we're gonna fuck you now." 

"What?" 

Shoko pushes you down on the couch. You land with an oomph before Utahime's descends on you with a flurry of kisses. 

"Waited so long to do this, baby." She's sighing into your lips, fiddling with your shirt so she can pull it off. "Weeks and weeks." 

She pulls down one of your bra cups, massaging at your tits. You hadn't had action in so long, so you eagerly encouraged her movements, kissing her back with just as much fervor. Shoko takes her place next to her girlfriend, pawing at your other tit. 

"Look." Shoko purrs. "One for each of us." Her soft mouth sucks on your nipple, swirling it around her mouth. Your head leans back with a pleasant sigh. 

"Feel good?" Utahime asks. "She's good with her tongue, isn't she?" 

"Yes," you nod, and Utahime gives out a delighted giggle, peppering your face with kisses. You gasp when you feel her hand shift through your shorts, palming at your dripping pussy. 

"Poor thing." Utahime's cooing, and there's a brief hint of mockery in her tone. You've never heard that before. It turns you on even more. "They never gave you attention back there did they?" She circles your clit. "They were too busy sucking each other's dicks to pay attention to such a pretty pussy." 

Shoko pops off your tits, shifting down. She kisses her way to your stomach. You blearily watch as she adjusts herself until she's right at your shorts. Utahime follows her lead, tugging off your shorts. Your panties go next. 

And then you're staring down at them with trepid anticipation. 

"I meant what I said." Shoko says softly. "You deserve better. You deserve someone who cares for you." 

"You deserve us." With that, She and Utahime latch onto your pussy. 

They're everywhere. You have to stop yourself from cumming right then and there, arching your back as one of them sucks on your clit while the other licks into your hole. She manages to stick her tongue inside of you, and it's enough to shoot sparks through your eyes. 

"So tight." Utahime's hissing into your cunt. "Sho, after this, you wanna try to fuck this pussy with your strap?" 

There's a soft laugh, and Shoko pulls away from your clit to answer, much to your disappointment. You whine, thrusting your hips in the air. She stills you with a hush. 

"I don't think we're ready just yet." She hums. "Yet." 

When you glance down, they both are making out with your clit. It's debaucherous. Their soft lips are connected, your tiny bud locked in the middle as their spit trickles down into your pussy. Utahime groans and when you look further down, you realize she's touching herself. 

You don't know which part of this makes you cum, but you cum. It's the hardest you've ever orgasmed. There's so much stimulation that your hips buck up, trying to chase the sparks of pleasure. They let you, licking you through your orgasm. 

When you come down, your thighs fall apart, splayed against the soft cushions. Utahime still isn't finished, licking at your clit. You shudder at the overstimulation, whining until Shoko is pulling her off of you by her hair. 

"Good, baby?" She asks, crawling back up to you. You kiss her as an answer. She melts in delight. 

You break the kiss, glancing over at Utahime. 

Taking the silent request, she kisses you again. You can taste yourself on her lips. You don't mind it. For some reason, it's sweeter on Utahime's tongue. 

When she breaks away, she stares at you, face soft. "You're staying, right?" She asks you. "You'll stay with us? Because after this, I don't think we could ever let you go." 

You give a shy nod, and Utahime beams. 

"Then, you're ours now," Shoko says, settling into your side. "And we're yours. Always." 

"Always." You breathe, content, happy. You could almost go to sleep. 

Shoko slaps your thigh. 

"Not yet." She warns before propping you up. "First, I want you to sit on my face." 

Hours later, you wake up delightfully sore in bed. The two girls are curled up next to you. When you move, you can still feel the bruises Utahime left. You never knew she liked to bite so much. 

You can't even begin to remember what happened, but you don't regret any of it. Hours and hours had passed as they fucked you and fucked each other, and you fucked them. 

Shoko shifts beside you. She was always a light sleeper. 

"Awake?" She asks. 

"Yeah." You softly say back. 

She hums, shifting a little more to face you. Utahime's behind you, arms protectively curled around your waist. At your voice, her eyes twitch. 

"Shut up." She grumbles, but her arms cinch around your waist. 

Shoko stretches as she rises up. You miss her body warmth but you don't mind the view she gives as she saunters over to the dresser, pulling on some clothes. 

"I'm gonna get food." 

Utahime mumbles out her order. You say nothing because you don't want to come in between them, and then Shoko looks at you. 

"What do you want?" She prompts. 

You blink, and when you answer, Shoko smiles, and then she's out the door. 

The interaction makes your heart warm. 

Still, it can't last. 

When you go to get up, Utahime protests, grabbing your wrist. 

"And where are you going?" She prods. 

You fumble. "Back to my room?" 

"What? Why?" Utahime demands with a frown. "What's the point, you're already with us, now." 

"Oh." You blink, but you give in and slink back into bed. "Is...this really okay?" 

"For God's sake, " she hisses, but you don't count it against her because Utahime has always been a little grumpy after waking up. "Yes. We're obsessed with you. How are you so blind?" 

"We want you, and we're not like them." Her voice drops in disdain. "We'll treat you better. You're ours now. You're mine." 

"Yours." You repeat, something warm fluttering in your belly. 

"You can't leave, we'd go crazy, okay?" She seriously tells you. "If someone else takes you away, I'd lose it. And Shoko is okay with murder." 

You laugh. 

"That's not a joke." She warns. 

"I know." And you kiss her again. 

It's like that for a couple weeks. You live in peaceful domestic bliss with two wonderful girlfriends. Now that you're in an actual loving relationship, you can't tell why you ever contemplated ever going back to Satoru and Suguru. Shoko actually talked to you about your feelings. Utahime cared about your input. You weren't treated like an afterthought, second place. 

They were with each other longer than they had been with you, but they never made you feel like you had to fight for your relationship. Speaking off Satoru and Suguru, they never once contacted you after their first two attempts. They'd clearly given up. 

Everything was just perfect. 

And then, it just wasn't. 

You were in bed with them. Fifteen minutes ago, Utahime shuffled off to go to the bathroom. She still wasn't back. Half asleep, Shoko grumbled. 

"She's probably in there fighting a cockroach." She complains, but she rises anyway. "Sleep, I'll be back." She kisses you on the cheek, and then she's gone. 

Their body warmth fades, but they stay because they're tired. These days, you can't really sleep without them, so you wait for the girls to return. Two minutes pass. Then, five. Then, ten. By then, the bed is cold. 

You open your eyes, sitting up. It's so quiet. Are they okay? 

You pull off the comforter, stepping onto the cold wooden floor. The apartment feels strangely...haunted somehow. The air felt heavier now, thick with an invisible tension, like the house itself was holding its breath. It must be because you feel alone, you're sure of it. 

The bedroom leads to a dark hallway. As you make your way down, you can hear something. Voices? Murmuring. The relief almost makes you laugh. Seriously, what were you even afraid about? 

The living room is horrific. 

They look dead. You can't tell if they're breathing or not. Shoko's eyes are closed. Utahime's limp body is sprawled across the floor. There's blood on the wooden panels. 

Suguru doesn't even blink. 

"You're awake." He says it so casually, like waking up to your ex-boyfriends mauling your girlfriends is normal. 

"What..." Your voice fails, you weakly try again. "What did you two do?" 

Satoru answers, smiling with glinty teeth. 

"Isn't it obvious? We're getting rid of the competition." 

You don't understand, your brain hasn't caught up yet, you still think you can talk to these psychos. 

"It's their fault." Satoru's still smiling, but there's nothing happy about his tone. He's carrying a knife. There's blood on it. "It's all their fault. They manipulated you into breaking up with us, baby. That's how these useless sluts got you into their arms." He spits on Utahime's hair. You cover your face with your hands. 

"But, it's not like you aren't at fault, Baby." He points the knife at you. "You left us for them. I'm not letting you off the hook for that." 

You don't know what he's saying. His movements scare you, his eyes, the knife. When you glance at Suguru, you don't know what you're expecting. 

But you know you aren't expecting...that. 

His purple eyes are icy cold. Utterly devoid of any emotion. You don't think you're staring at a person, anymore. 

"You lied," Suguru says, "You lied about us not giving you enough attention. You just wanted to leave us. For them." 

You step back. They step forward. 

Those bastards would've never let you go otherwise. Utahime warned you. Looking at her limp body, you wondered if she thought they'd ever go this far. 

"I didn't." You weakly insist. "I-I wasn't lying about anything! It-it wasn't like I wanted to leave-" 

"Stop lying," Gojo insists. "Stop fucking lying already." 

He smiles again. 

"It's okay, baby. I know you'll come back with us. Right after we're done dealing with these two whores." 

"You'll belong to us." Suguru promises and he steps on Shoko's hands. "Just like always."

They were both crazy. Nothing could get through to them. Now, you would sit there and watch them maul the only things in your life that made you feel complete. 

The worst part is that everything was your fault. 

Shoko's pinky twitches. You can see Utahime take shallow breathes.

And you speak. 

"I'm sorry." 

Your weak voice makes them stop in their tracks. Satoru glances at you, Suguru does too. You can't convince them. The only thing you can do is play into their delusions. 

"You're right." You say, the tears finally feeling useful. "I just wanted to leave. I-I was just bored. I wanted something new." Suguru's lips curl and you quickly move on. "But-but the more I stayed with them, the more I realized...how much I missed you two." 

Satoru halts. You caught him. 

"I did." You stress, carefully making your way to him on feet that were close to dropping at any minute. "Every day, I thought about you two." You reach out, touching his face with shaky fingers. "I really really wanted to come back, but I was afra-afraid you wouldn't...want me back."

Satoru reaches up to touch your hand. His fingers are cold. You resist the urge to shudder. 

"You missed us?" He wonders. 

The lie feels like sand. 

"More than anything." 

His kiss is violent. He crushes you with his grip, touching and biting and everything you hate. You squeeze your eyes shut, letting him suck your soul dry. 

"Don't kill them." You whisper when he finally pulls away. "Please don't kill them. Everything was my fault." 

Satoru's face is pensive. His gaze drifts off to Suguru's. Those silent conversations you hated so much. 

Then, Satoru gives a delighted sigh. 

"You're lucky. I love you so much." He kisses your nose, before pushing you in Suguru's arms. 

"I'll clean up here. Suguru, go back to the truck." He demands. 

You don't fight, letting Suguru drag you away. Shoko and Utahime live in apartments, but you're afraid if you scream, Satoru might change his mind and gut them anyway. Before Suguru leads you off, you catch Gojo scoffing before he kicks at Utahime's face. You gasp and pray that when Shoko wakes up, she'll be coherent enough to call for an ambulance. 

I'm sorry, you tell them. I'm so so sorry. 

Suguru pushes you into the backseat of their vehicle. You obediently take a seat. 

"You shouldn't have left." He tells you. "You should've stayed." 

His face is cold, but his tone betrays the tiniest tremor. If you weren't so scared, you'd laugh. The irony is that he's the one who feels wronged here. 

"I'm sorry," you say anyway. 

He hums, not quite satisfied with your answer. 

"You aren't." He responds, and you hate how well he knows your tells. 

And then, he grins. 

"But you will be."

Hands reach out, gripping your neck. You flail immediately as Suguru cuts of your oxygen. You can't breathe. You can't fucking breathe. No matter how tightly you squeeze onto his wrist, digging your nails into his hands, clawing at his face. He keeps you still, keeping you there as you grow weaker. Your vision gets blurry. Your attempts get sluggish. There's a kiss on your forehead, and you black out completely. 

~

You wake up in a room you've never seen before. And your neck is sore. 

The pain drifts in as soon as consciousness does. You feel like you have a hangover, your head throbs, your eyes struggle to remain open. You can't go back to sleep either, not when it hurts so much. 

The panic doesn't settle in until you catch the cuffs on either one of your legs, keeping you attached to the bedpost. Silver chains, with enough lead to let you move around a bit. The cuffs are padded so you don't rub yourself raw. You don't care about the thoughtfulness. 

They're in the room with you, watching with silent eyes. Nausea builds up in your stomach, and you wonder how long they'd stayed there, just watching you. 

You miss Shoko. You miss Utahime. You missed people who actually loved you. 

Not these two. Monsters that lied and pretended, but deep down, they were just too selfish to share. 

"You were out for a while." Suguru comments. 

"I told you to use the syringe," Satoru remarks, but he doesn't sound too upset. At his voice, Suguru laughs. 

You shift in your spot. Suguru takes that as an invitation. He sits at the edge of the bed, watching you with satisfied eyes. You must look pathetic: shivering, in tears. He reaches up, catching your tears with his finger.

"So cute." And then he frowns. "You know why we're doing this, yes? You were bad. You need to be punished."

"I'm sorry." It's all you can say. You feel like a broken record, doomed to repetition over and over again.

"You aren't. You should stop lying." Suguru says sweetly. "But I'm sure, a couple hours in your new home will help you think about how much you hurt us."

You wanted to scream, but you can't cuz your throat still hurts from Suguru's hands, and you know he's not above putting his hands on you this time. Maybe he never was, you just never saw this side of him until you made him snap.

"You're leaving?" You stumble, moving as they back away but the chains only take you so far. There are no windows, and when Suguru shuts the light off, the only thing that's keeping you from the dark entirely is the light emitting out the hallway.

"Wait." You beg. "Please. Wait, don't-don't leave me here. I'm sorry. This is scary. I'm scared."

Satoru hesitates at your broken voice. Like a shark smelling blood, you pounce.

"Satoru, please."

"If you keep coddling, then the lesson will never be learned." Suguru warns.

Satoru stares at you. He's not wearing his sunglasses. You can see him for what he is now.

"I love you." He says it so sincerely, you almost believe it. "This is for your own good."

The door shuts, and everything goes dark.

[acid-ixx]

ch.2: again &. again (platonic! yandere batfam x neglected! gn reader)

directory: preq, chapter one, chapter two, chapter three, chapter four, chapter five pt 1, chapter five pt 2,

read until the end for an author's note.

*"XX/XX/XXXX, entry no. 13.

i hate everything. i hate my family. i hate my father, i hate my brothers, i hate my classmates, i hate alfred, i hate this place, i hate my mom, i hate everyone.

why can't i ever get what i wanted? what do i have to do? i tried so hard to be everything for them, but why do i only amount to nothing? it's been a year, or two, i don't know. it hurts trying to remember when was the last time i saw him. saw, not talk, because he never talks to me, bruce never even looks at me. and i hate myself for trying to get him to look at me.

is he disgusted at me? does he see my mother in me? does he hate me that much? i don't know, i don't want to know, it hurts to know. i don't know why i'm trying anymore, i don't know how longer i can last in this hell. i can feel it, the longer i stay here, the more i lose a part of myself. i don't want to be here.

i don't want to pray anymore.

so if there's any god out there watching over me, then i wish for you to burn, to suffer, to go through the same thing i have been experiencing for years— all for putting me in this place. i would've been fine living in the streets with my mother. i would've been alright providing for our small family, i would've known to never get my hopes high, but you took her away from me!—

i hate you."

"master (name), are you awake? dinner is ready."

you had to shut your diary at the sound of the knock and alfred's voice.

"alfr-"

a cough, hoarse and croaky, cuts you out from calling his name. it was accompanied by uncontrollable sniffles, mucus blocking your nose from breathing properly. your room was dark, save for the lamp that lights up your bedside, where you currently were seated on your bed to write another entry, grip on your pen unknowingly harsh. you didn't even have to look at your reflection from your phone laying beside the diary to know that hiding your tears were fruitless.

salty were the crystalline droplets that streaks your face, but bitter were the emotions that had your heart ache.

you hear a sigh from the other room. before he could muster a reply, you beat him to it.

"i'm not eating dinner, alfred," you hate hearing your voice, sounding so obviously scrathy from the hours of wailing. "at least not with them. i don't want to get out at all."

"then may i at least bring them over to you, master (name)?"

his answer was final, you have no choice on retaliating and starving yourself like you did for the past few days. but it wasn't your fault that you had forgotten your body's needs. it wasn't your fault that your mind blanks itself out on the dinner table. it wasn't your fault that bile quickly crawls up your throat at hearing their voices.

you simply lost your appetite seeing them happy without you.

alfred pennyworth would never play favorite.

it was drilled into his head ever since he had sworn to serve the wayne family and its extended members— he is to serve anyone and everyone, regardless if they respect him or they do not; as long as they do not pose any danger within the manor, then he is to attend to them.

you'd think that in his decades of service for the wayne's - with all the contrasting personalities he had to deal with - he would maintain professional standards and tell everybody in the world, "i, of course, do not favor anyone within the family, i live to serve and that is truth." when in fact, he wouldn't hesistate to admit that he does, in actuality, have a favorite.

and no, it wouldn't be the eldest child, dick grayson, as much as he is alfred's pride and joy, nor would it be the youngest, damian wayne, who had been slowly correcting his mistakes. it wouldn't even be the head of the house, master bruce.

it would be you, (name) wayne, the infamous, yet forgetten child of the wayne family.

it wouldn't be a far fetch for alfred to admit that you weren't like the others. in all of the years that he served the wayne's, you were a contrast of the family.

the first few hours that he had picked you up from the police department upon the news of bruce's secret child, he knew you were more than just a child raised by the brutal streets of gotham.

you pose secrets that speak of the underground.

he remembers your seated form on the stiff chair of the interrogation room, pose unnervingly straight, as if you had solidified yourself against the metal seat. your fingers were the only signs that showed life, twiddling with each other as if it's some form of distraction.

you stared at nothing.

not even at the police as your name was called for pick up.

it took merely a signature of confirmation to dictate the future years of your life.

what's left of your belongings were given to alfred. the police officer, a woman with a kind smile then had to walk across the interrogation table to pat your back, gesturing for you to stand up and follow her and alfred on the way outside of the station, where the car was parked.

you hadn't uttered a word nor snapped out of your dreamlike gaze. not even when you were greeted with a thousand clicks of the cameras, the buzzing crowd that drowns the police station, or the hundreds of voices that yell at you to look at them.

(name) (last name), now formally adopted by bruce wayne, would be (name) wayne. it wouldn't be a shock that your sudden appearance as the child of a scandalous relationship between a prostitute and a billionaire would cause immense reactions. news would be spreading left and right, most of which were negative on your side.

he had to shield you from the crowd of photographers and journalists itching their way to the crowd to get a glance on you.

yet you didn't display any discomfort. you had only sat on the car obediently, fastening your seatbelts robotically and ignoring the lenses that unsettlingly tried to poke through the car windows to take pictures of you.

you were more like batman than you were bruce.

alfred had tried to get you communicate with questions like, "how are you over there, master (name)?" yet you would only mumble unintelligible responses to his questions without any ounce of emotion. he had to look at the rear view mirror to take in your stiff form. again, your eyes were set on nothing, even if they were casted down on the carpeted floorboards of the car.

when he had first met bruce, that child was overflowing with anger and vengeance for his parent's killer, yet you, who refused to explain your mother's disappearance, are devoid of anything.

the silence was defeaning throughout the ride. the only comfort that was provided was the rain that began to patter against the glass windows.

alfred throught you would retain the same behavior the entire day.

yet it was only when you first walked up the steps of the manor did your demeanor change, fingers immediately reaching up to hold the cuffs of his sleeves, pulling it as if you were hesitant to step in.

the first emotion you had shown him was concern, like a switch had flickered you out of your trance. it was the first time in a while that alfred had to do a double take to check if what was happening was real.

"can you... hold my hand?" and it was the first time he had heard you speak, voice unnaturally scratchy from the lack of water. you stared at him with wide, doe eyes that refused to blink, waiting for answers. alfred had to gaze at your entire body to finally notice that you were covered head to toe in sloppy bandages with blood seeping through the grime-filled gauze. your shoes were worn, your clothes were ripped, and other uncovered scars littered your body.

the most conspicuous color on your shirt was crimson red.

yet you do not display pain.

a child, five years of age, had been through more than enough anguish to know how to block their pain out.

you were unlike the rest, truly, you were unwavering of the world's cruelty.

the world does not deserve someone like you.

alfred takes it in himself to always hold your hand after that.

through the mansion doors, inside the kitchen, on your way to school; whenever and wherever, as long as he had time.

even if it were filled with scars and bruises, dirt and grime, he will always hold your hand if it meant guiding you through the darkness of the manor.

you may not consider yourself bruce's child, but you will always be alfred's.

another knock on your door had you snapping out of your trance. time passed by so quickly in the manor. well, it does when you have nothing to do but stare at your diary, draw on your sketchbook or scroll through your phone. yet time would always be the quickest whenever you drown in your own misery.

"come in," you croak out, aware that it would only be alfred who would come by your room. it was long ago since you had given up on awaiting for dick's visits.

a turn of the knob, then the door swings quietly; the hinges creak, you need them oiled sooner. alfred walks in, you notice he holds a tray that contains two cupcakes and a plate of your favorite dish, but you don't notice the small box with a bow hidden skillfully from the back of the tray. from over your seat, you could already smell the aromatic herbs that flutter in the room and see the colorful frosting from both cupcakes; an already lit candle sticking in from one.

the candle at least provides just a split second of light inside your dim room; the moonlight just like your family, absent.

alfred graciously places the tray on your nightstand, on the left of your diary. your room was still too silent.

you could only hear yourself.

"master (name), are you simply going to sit there and stare? or would you rather i spoonfeed you like i had when you had broken your wrist?"

you blink it out again, oblivious to your very own hyperawareness. alfred's still here. you hope that, in the presence of darkness, he wouldn't see just how much of a mess you are. how your hands could barely grip onto anything, hair unwashed, face stained with tears, difficulty breathing through the buildup of mucus, foot tapping up and down erratically— you wished he would pretend to be blind about your suffering for just this once.

"no—" came your sudden reply, "i can- yeah, i can eat by myself."

it's harder to lie to yourself than it is to others.

he looks at you with doubt, it makes you shiver.

despite you wishing for company inside the manor, you could never be used to attention. it would never be normal for someone like you. though, you wish it was. you wish you never hesitated when someone gives you attention.

you hear your mattress creak, there's a dip on your bed. alfred sits beside you, only then did you realize just how quickly you lean into his side, craving for warmth in the solace of your empty room.

everything hurts, it truly does.

you wish you were strong enough to cease the sudden burst of tears when his one hand circles your shoulder and the other holds the cupcake with a candle near your face. and you wish that you weren't so weak in the presence of another, trying to find a semblance of your worth in their attention.

you at least try to stifle your sobs—

"happy birthday, master (name)."

— but you were always weak, yet alfred never seems to mind, patting your back to console you from your wailing.

you blow the fire out with a single promise to yourself, crying a bit more when alfred had given you a gift box, laced with a ribbon of your favorite color.

it was one of the few gifts you would cherish, fondness seeping into the cracks of your heart.

though it wouldn't erase the bitterness that fills your being either way, knowing your family is still downstairs, unaware of the anguish the torment that they have put you through— it's still enough to let you hate alfred a little less.

"alfred?"

it was your meek voice, one that was always drowned out by the sound of the dishes clanking.

"yes, master (name)?" yet alfred could always strain out the sound of anything just to hear your talk. after all, you were a silent kid throughout your childhood.

"—if i move out of this place; would promise you wouldn't forget about me?"

... (name) wayne was full of surpises.

even at the ripe age of seventeen, and in the near fourteen years of raising you, alfred could never predict your words nor your actions.

you had always said things spontaneously, carrying an aura of awkwardness in your tone, reminiscent of someone who had their personal growth (moreover their social life) stunted.

but now, with the way you had said your resolve so confidently, it felt like he was looking at a different version of you; all the more confident and resilient.

except... you were behind him when you had said that - so he wasn't really looking at you - eating the first batch of his cookies whilst he was polishing the dishes with a cloth.

when he had turned around to look at you, though, you were still the socially inept child he knows and love, sitting on the breakfast bar and twirling around the stool as you attempt to not get crumbs everywhere. you were still so young in his eyes.

it's just, the way you had looked at him expectedly like you needed his approval that shocked him. it was always your eyes that had expressed the most emotions, glazing with anticipation for his response.

he knows it when you lie, and right now, you were dead serious in your resolve.

alfred had to relax the crease on his brows before he ages faster than he already is.

"well, master (name)," he continues, turning back to wiping the dishes clean before he could fully face you. "i would fully support you in your... journey, but what warranted you to be suddenly motivated on moving out?"

alfred had finished setting aside the dishes, but he still doesn't look back.

"i mean, i thought i already told you? i have a scholarship for college but it's on the other side of gotham and...

— i kind of don't want to be chauffeured by a limo around the campus everyday, you know? so the next best thing is to get a dorm."

alfred knows it when you lie. and right now, your hesitance tells him everything he needs to know.

you may have proved a point, but that point was an entire lie. with a person name wayne flaunting across a city whilst riding a limousine, you might find yourself into more trouble than anything else.

but he had always been the one to pick you up and drop you off from elementary and halfway through your highschool life— and you never seemed to mind until now.

it doesn't take a genius to know that you had already deviced a full plan of moving out and taken it into action; all you had to do was confront the only man in the manor who had cared about you enough to raise you about your worries.

it wasn't enough to convince him to let you go, though, especially not right after an incident that had occured prior to you highschool life. if he allows you to gain independence in gotham, he wouldn't know how long you would last.

but when he looks back at you again, he couldn't bring it in himself to oppose to your whims. you need a new environment; one that provides you a way to gain independence and, most preferably, social skills. staying cooped up in a manor with barely anybody talking to you does more harm than good.

and being ignored by your own family for almost fourteen years wouldn't be a great way to celebrate your already nearing eighteenth birthday.

alfred doesn't want to admit it, but if he keeps you here any longer, you would never grow up. one person could only do so much.

he whips out a sigh, looking at you with resignation in his eyes. but you know it in yourself that he swears his life on the promise.

"master (name)," he walks over to you, eyes darting at the cookie crumbs that litter around your mouth making a note to scold you on your manner later. he sits directly in front of you, hand patting your head as you merely stare at him expectedly.

"i have raised you for almost fourteen years, it's like you are my very own child. i would never forget you." he takes your hands in his. "but you have to also promise me to stay safe out there, master (name). call me once you're there."

alfred would find a way to get you to come back eventually, even if it meant utilizing your family's neglect, which was primarily the reason why you had moved out on the first place.

he just hopes you wouldn't connect the dots and pin the blame on him once you're back and safe in the manor.

and now, it had only been months since you had gotten away from the manor. he was proud of your development, of your choice and overall, you, but he wouldn't lie and say he doesn't miss you.

he misses hearing your voice directly, the line on the phone being too blotchy to properly hear you. he misses it when he would sit on your bed as your only audience whilst he watches you paint on your canvases, drawling on and on about highschool's latest drama. he misses it when you would always be the first to taste his dishes, face lighting up whenever the food was seasoned up; now he has to constantly remind you to eat a nutritious diet, even offering to send you money whenever you mention you were short on it.

in the good of your heart, you would always decline, even going as far to deny him of any liberty to track you down and bring you a meal himself.

alfred misses you.

does he regret allowing you your freedom? not really, no. but he knows it in himself that a greedy part of him prefers it if you were would visit the manor occasionally during your vacations, at least to bond with him. but you simply chose not to, even going as far to legally change your name once you had become eighteen so you wouldn't be associated with your father's last name.

but that wouldn't erase the past you had tried to meticulously cover.

(name) wayne may have been a name forcefully deleted off of the face of the internet, but that doesn't mean it doesn't have its conspiracies of its own. nobody knows who you are beyond the blurry, unsolicited pictures of you. it may have been a photograph of your back, or articles published in unknown websites and buried at the far end about a kid leaving a police station and entering through the fancy gates of the wayne manor.

and most importantly, you are a product of a one-night-stand.

but they don't know who the mother is, don't know your age, or where you come from, and what business bruce has with the woman to guarantee your adoption at the instance she had disappeared without warning.

your existence was a mystery most would like to solve. after all, it was your picture that was plastered all over the newspapers and articles, it was your name that journalists whisper and it was a silhouette of your face that the underground knows by heart. every known information about you was shared discretely yet efficiently like some sort of virus.

you were a target for interest, a large sum of money if they will. and alfred had taken it in his hands to make sure there would never be a repeat of what had happened before.

it was a clumsy mistake, one that cost you your memories, and one he swears on his life he'll never make again.

the first course of action he needs to arrange, which may seem difficult for most; he needs to confront bruce.

after all, your freedom is your doom.

the wayne manor, in all its glory, could only be described as this palace overflowing his its abundant history and fame.

it was a castle that houses a boy who had lost his parents and became gotham's very own vigilante who stalks through the night to lessen the very evil that devours its citizens. it was the training grounds where the robins, sidekicks dressed in colorful attire, opposite to batman, were raised to be worthy enough to stand by the dark knight's side. but most importantly, it was a home for troubled children who were in their journey of their very own personal struggles.

yet even in its exterior splendour, it would always be innately overcome with loneliness.

for someone like bruce wayne, he embraces this desolation just as he embraces his alter-ego, batman, who wears a suit of black and dons an aura that demanded fear.

even if he carries the persona of 'brucie wayne' a ditsy, playboy who enjoys galas and sleeping with women every other night, he prefers solitude over the sea of interviewers who throng around him like he was a piece of meat.

it would be the only time he could focus on his countless of stacked paperworks to sign and his plans to ransack another criminal's master plan.

before winter could cover gotham in its sheet of pure, white coldness, rain would always terrorize the skies. he finds this the perfect atmosphere; dark grey clouds prevent the sun from peaking through, droplets of rain would pelt against the vast windows that surrounds his study, and there was enough background noise to block out any sounds that would pass through the door.

bruce wayne was focused on his work, and that meant disturbance wasn't allowed inside the manor. thankfully, it was a quiet, uneventful afternoon today.

in fact, it was all too abnormally quiet.

his scarred hands work through signing papers effiently and effortlessly, practiced fingers signing papers after he would meticulously scan over the paragraphs of texts that scale from business deals to partnerships to buying a piece of land. then later, once the moon rises, he would have to patrol with damian and disrupt another drug trade that had been recently dealing with children on the alleys of gotham.

that means he has to sign or reject at least half of the papers before evening falls through, so he could have alfred send them over through the post office tomorrow morning.

he was at least a quarter way through his work, though, when his flow was disrupted by a courteous knock by the mahogany doors.

he didn't have to look up or ask who it was, knowing it was alfred, his butler.

"master bruce, i have your tea ready, along with news to bare," bruce could hear the tone of urgency and a tinge of sullenness in alfred's voice. it was rare for alfred to be emotionally distressed, as he was typically the most composed out of everyone in the family.

"come on in, alfred," bruce's vocal chords were gruff, raspy whenever he's too engrossed in whatever he was doing.

but he was piqued at the news alfred was eager to share, the butler expertly turning the knob and entering with a tray that holds a hot serving of tea.

bruce stopped signing the papers, putting down his pen as he watches alfred, composed as always, place the tray down on his desk, not a single clank that was produced from the metal sheets. he watches as alfred reflexively pours him a cup of tea.

it was only after that action that the two share eye contact, alfred stationing himself to the right of bruce's desk.

if he wasn't a detective, he wouldn't have noticed the furrow of alfred's brows, which was uncharacteristic of the composed butler.

he reckons he should address the elephant in the room.

"what is it that you want to tell me, alfred?" bruce swivels his chair to face alfred, fingers tapping the mahogany desk rhythmically.

"master bruce, i figured you should have known this for quite a long time ago, but your third child had moved out on their own and now lives at the opposite side of gotham. right now, they may have been struggling to make ends meet."

huh?

"what do you mean, alfred? you're aware that tim is currently living in the manor—"

"no, master, i am talking about your third, not fourth child; master (name)."

... (name)?

ah, his... other child.

alfred looks at his seated form, expecting the befuddled reaction from bruce.

it doesn't take long for bruce to recover from his thoughts, eyebrows furrowed the same way as alfred as he leans against his chair.

"and what of (name)? why was i not updated about them?"

alfred had to stifle a groan as he then glares at bruce with what he could suppose was exasperation.

"i had already told you about their leave months ago, master bruce. you had simply waved me off whenever the topic is of master (name)." the butler's glare hardened, reminiscent of the times where bruce was scolded as a child. and like a child, he doesn't know what he had done wrong.

"i feel it is time for you to take it into your hands to deal with master (name)'s situation right now. i do not have access to their location and just like you, they are stubborn and refuse to accept any financial aid that comes to them in any form—"

to make matters worse, alfred had the gall to stop midway into his explanation, sighing and blinking unnervingly which catches more than bruce's attention.

"they would rather not admit it, but if they were to fail to pay for this month's rent of their apartment, they would get evicted from their very own living space."

at pretty much the last sentence, bruce's gaze hardened. not at alfred, no, but at the thought of you; his... forgotten child. if it was money that you need, why had you not ask for any allowance in the first place? bruce would admit that, well, it had been too long since he had last seen your face, nor even... remember it—

but you were still a child of his and he wouldn't deny you of an allowance if it meant persuing your... highschool or college dreams...?

shit, what grade are you in?

why didn't he know you moved out in the first place? wait—

"alfred, how long has it been since they had last moved out?"

"roughly six or seven months ago, master."

"ah, but having a place of your own as a minor would be prohibited by law."

"master bruce, they're eighteen. they're old enough to live in their own apartment."

eighteen years old...? how long had it been since he had last seen or heard of you? if what alfred had said was true, that the butler had attempted to reach out to him about you, then why had he not remember in the first place? you were a quiet kid, sure, but for someone like bruce, people would always not be overlooked.

it wasn't in him to easily forget, but he hates how he couldn't muster up a single memory of your face— not even your hair color nor your eyes. did you even... exist in his eyes? there was not a single memory of you that he could come up in his head.

his child was eighteen now, how could he not have known in the first place? how could he not recollect a single birthday of yours? or any celebration or gala that had you in it?

alfred's sigh snapped him out of his trance once more.

bruce looked up, seeing resignation upon alfred's face. he simply stood there, posture straight as always, but bruce couldn't wash away the shame that cages his heart when there was not a single image of you that pops up in his mind— alfred's disappointment merely worsened

the tea in his desk had long since gone untouched, but bruce couldn't bring it in himself to drink a single drop of it, even if his lips were dried and his throat was begging for even a single droplet of water.

he denies himself of any relief.

"i figure i should leave you in your own, master bruce, to at least compose yourself before nightfall. please do take your child into consideration, though, enough time has passed since you have last seen them." alfred states, as if it was a matter of fact. and it was, bruce should've known about your leave, as your father and as the man who took you in, he should've.

so before the butler could even take a step, bruce hastily stands up from his seat, pen long since discarded on his desk and a quarter of the papers are now messily stacked upon each other, but bruce pays them no mind.

"take me to (name)'s room right now, i need to see things for myself."

if bruce couldn't even remember a single instance of you, then maybe a trip to your room would be enough for him to remember.

but if that doesn't work then... bruce would a find a way, he always would.

and as your father, he needs to at least support you, even financial no matter your stubbornness? even if the shame he feels right now is so immensely disturbing, and the migraine is quickly finding its way into his head— he needs to know more about you, his actual third child.

bruce wayne needs to see your face just once.

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

a/n: 5k+ words. no beta, we die like jason todd with a crowbar. my least favorite part of writing the chapter is literally starting it. i had at least 5 drafts all lined up and it took me an hour in the bed to think about how should i start it. i literally hope you guys enjoy the chapter hehe, and start to yk, notice the patterns and the parallels between your perspective and bruce's perspective bec ur literally his child, u guys share some habits even if u never once talked to him lmao. the most emotionally draining scene was writing the birthday scene, i had to take breaks from typing it out hehe. bruce's descent to yandere-ism isn't as quick as dick's but it would be worst in the next chapter.

also, i hope you guys are able to notice the bad habits that the reader eventually collects because it's important for the next chapters. it would be better if anyone of u could... point them out in my asks or comments, i love rambling about it yk, and a lot of you are absolutely brilliant in making theories that are absolutely right. anyways, i hope u enjoy this chapter because this was one hell of a ride for me and i appreciate all the reblogs and comments despite me not replying to a lot of yall but u guys truly are my motivation so thank u lots :(((<33!

taglist: @lilyalone, @secretomelettetroops, @earlqurl, @simpingfor-wakasa, @amber-content, @ruiroku, @okaybutfullhomo, @trasshy-artist, @obsessedwithromance, @jjsmeowthie, @fairy-lenaa, @maicenitas, @ilovvmyhusband, @6uuyuuhgy, @plsfckmedxddy, @lavender-moony, @sweetheart-era, @chemicalsandghosts, @darling006, @starringyau, @rosecentury, @jaythes1mp, @pi1nkl0ver, @i-thirsty-boi, @sharks-r-cool-l, @silverklaus, @samanthathanes, @traumaramacenter, @maddimoon, @anxrq, @thedarknesslord, @h0rr0r-10ver-69, @lazy-idate, @googeecat44, @simpingfor-wakasa, @zvghfgn, @0patito0 (if i had forgotten to put any of u in a taglist please forgive me, it's hard to keep track !!)