#is this what it feels like to know your family doesn’t just love you because they have to??????

[herweirdass]

Hi! Can you possibly write a Joe Burrow imagine please where he keeps referring to his gf as “wifey” or “my wife” to her and other people when he speaks about her even though they are not married yet. But he is waiting for the moment to pop the big question. Until one night he sees the perfect opportunity to propose right after a small argument about leaving the toothpaste cap off.

my wife | jb

life with joe burrow was nothing short of a dream. you were his safe haven, his number-one fan, and the love of his life. but there was one thing that always made you laugh: joe’s habit of calling you “wifey” or “my wife” to everyone—teammates, friends, family, even strangers.

“yeah, wifey cooked this amazing dinner last night,” he’d say, grinning like a lovestruck fool. or, “my wife’s the reason i’m not walking around in mismatched socks today.”

you’d always roll your eyes playfully, nudging him with a smile. “joe, i’m not your wife yet.”

“technicality,” he’d reply with a smirk. “you will be.”

you thought it was just joe being joe, but little did you know, he was serious. the ring had been sitting in a drawer in his office for months, waiting for the right moment. joe had planned and replanned his proposal a hundred times, but nothing felt quite perfect.

one night, after a long day for both of you, the two of you were brushing your teeth side by side in the bathroom. you noticed the toothpaste cap sitting off again, and with an exaggerated sigh, you grabbed it and screwed it back on.

“joe,” you said, shaking your head, “how hard is it to put the cap back on? i do it every time.”

he rinsed his toothbrush and gave you a sheepish look. “it’s not that i don’t care—it’s just that i forget.”

“you always forget,” you teased, crossing your arms.

he turned to face you, his lips twitching into a grin. “you’re really gonna make a big deal out of this, huh?”

“yes, because one day, you’re gonna leave it off, and it’s gonna dry out, and then—”

you didn’t get to finish your sentence because joe suddenly dropped to one knee, right there on the bathroom floor.

“joe, what are you doing?” you asked, your heart skipping a beat.

“fixing the toothpaste cap problem for good,” he said, pulling a small velvet box from his hoodie pocket. his voice softened as he opened it, revealing a stunning diamond ring. “i mean, if you’re officially my wife, maybe you’ll have more patience with me leaving the cap off.”

your eyes widened, tears already pooling. “joe…”

“i’m serious,” he said, his blue eyes locking onto yours. “you’ve been my wife in my heart for a long time. i’ve been calling you that because it’s how i feel. and now i just want to make it official. will you marry me?”

you stared at him, your hands flying to your mouth as you nodded vigorously. “yes! of course, yes!”

joe slipped the ring onto your finger, standing and wrapping you in a tight embrace. “finally,” he murmured against your hair. “i’ve been dying to ask you.”

“you couldn’t have waited for a more romantic moment?” you teased, laughing through your happy tears.

“why? this is us,” he said, pulling back to look at you. “you, me, and a toothpaste cap argument. it doesn’t get more perfect than that.”

you kissed him, feeling like the luckiest person in the world. and as the two of you stood in the tiny bathroom, your laughter echoing off the walls, you couldn’t agree more.

[ragetears]

What do you need to hear right now? - pick a card!

~ this is a generalized reading, so take what resonates and leave what doesn’t! ~

Pile 1 - Phantomwise Tarot with pyrite

Pile 2 - Deviant Moon Tarot with rose quartz

Pile 3 - Crow Tarot with labradorite

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Pile 1 - The High Priestess, Four of Wands, and the Queen of Wands reversed.

Key themes: anxiety, fear, self love, creativity, trusting yourself.

My friend - Spirit is telling you that you need to trust yourself! You find yourself hiding away from the unknown, and even the unknown within you. Tap into those darker, deeper parts that you've been shying away from. It's only by integrating those parts that you can become whole. You don't need to be afraid of your own darkness, you need to embrace it, celebrate it. Very much a commitment to yourself kind of vibe.

You need to learn to care for and love yourself, truly and deeply. You aren't nearly confident enough in your abilities - but you should be! Shed that self-consciousness, that fear, all that nasty stuff that doesn't serve you and step into the creative power that's inside of you.

For some of you this might look like practicing self love through ritual or other spiritual methods, diving deep into shadow work and/or therapy, or restarting creative projects you stopped because you weren't confident enough to finish them. (Also I feel a strong need to say this for my pagans out there - some of you should think about connecting with Aphrodite because she really would like to work through this with you.)

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Pile 2 - Queen of Wands, Queen of Cups, and the Page of Wands reversed.

Key themes: Feminine and/or intuitive power and energy, manifesting, confidence.

You are one powerful person! You are in control of yourself, capable of handling many things at once. You have all the skills and abilities you need to manifest your desires - and it's time to take that step. Two queens next to each other tells me that it's time for you to step into a more "feminine" energy. Feminine, but not necessarily in the "receptive" sense. More in an "intuitive power" sense, and for some of you this might be a transition into being your true self. For others, it's a sign to take that step into what you desire. You are in control of this journey, you can trust that you know who you are, and by doing this you are healing parts of yourself.

They key word that keeps popping up for you is "manifesting". You have such an insane ability to create your own reality and bring your desires to fruition. Now is not the time to second guess yourself. You are not taking wobbly steps forward, you're far too skilled for that. There's no room for self doubt here - you know what you desire. You're past the point of walking away from your calling. The reversed Page says you might fall down but the two Queens say to get right back up because you will succeed. You can do this.

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Pile 3 - Death, Eight of Wands, Six of Pentacles.

Key themes: freedom, excitement, relationships, rebirth, caution.

Your life is about to change, you are on the cusp of (or perhaps you've already started!) shedding all that doesn't serve you. This has been an active process that you've been heading or even working towards, not something passive that's happening to you. This won't be easy, but you already know that and you're prepared, no matter how bad it might hurt. Something new lies just beyond the horizon of this change, something better. For some of you this might be a breakup, breaking bad habits, or cutting off toxic friends or family. You know it won't be easy, but you also know that a happier, healthier you is waiting.

It's time to move on from your old life - and swiftly. Your previous situation stifled you, held you back from your true potential. Others may not understand why you needed to leave it all behind, but that's okay, you need to put yourself first. It's time for full steam ahead on your dreams, and this movement will aid you even more in shedding all that held you back. This might be a metaphorical or literal move (for some of you I'm getting cross-country or even an international move), and don't be afraid of either.

You are reborn and you have never felt lighter or more free, but don't act rashly. Humans are social creatures after all, and we are made to rely on each other. Don't be afraid of the generosity and care of others, and freely give to those around you in return with open arms and an open heart. You will need people who love and support you, and they'll need you just as much.

It may be a good idea to take a close look at your old self, your old life, and evaluate what led you here because without active work you are at risk of falling back into old patterns and into your old ways. Also I'm getting for some of you that you really need to learn how to better manage your finances specifically or you're at high risk of ending up back in your old situation, or at least a very similar one.

[antinousletmehit]

Hello, fun request here!

Could you do Telemachus and a younger sister reader? Maybe around like 14 since Telemachus was around 20 at the end of the odyssey (I know the math doesn’t make sense because of Odysseus’s adventure but like trust) and just show like Telemachus protecting her from the suitors to the best of his ability or something? And like just a cute sibling relationship? :)

୨୧┇pairing: Telemachus x reader platonic

୨୧┇I love writing platonic stuff more than romantic honestly

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ──── ───

The great hall of Ithaca’s palace echoed with laughter as the suitors lounged in their stolen comfort. Their voices got on your nerves, their presence a reminder of how powerless you and your family had been for years. You lingered near the edge of the hall. At fourteen, you were too young to truly understand the depth of their insolence, but old enough to feel the sting of their mockery when they noticed you.

“Ah, little princess!” one of the suitors called, a smirk curling his lips. Eurymachus, always the boldest. “Come here, won’t you? Pour me some wine.” You hesitated, your grip tightening on your chiton as your heart raced. The way his eyes gleamed made you want to run, but you couldn’t, your pride wouldn’t allow it.

“Leave her alone,” a firm voice cut through the noise.

Telemachus.

Your older brother stepped into the hall, his presence commanding attention. His gaze burned with defiance as he crossed the room, placing himself squarely between you and Eurymachus.“Are you deaf, boy?” Eurymachus sneered, leaning back in his chair. “I said the little princess should pour me wine.”

“And I said leave her alone,” Telemachus snapped, his voice steady and sharp. The hall grew quieter, the tension thick enough to cut with a blade.

“She’s just a child,” Telemachus continued, his eyes blazing. “You have no right to speak to her that way.” Eurymachus’s smirk faded, replaced by a scowl. He stood, towering over Telemachus, but your brother didn’t flinch.

“She’s the daughter of Odysseus,” Telemachus said, his voice unwavering. “And until my father returns, I’ll protect her with my life.” Your heart swelled with pride and relief, but also fear. Eurymachus was a cruel man, and you worried what he might do.

But before anything could escalate further, another suitor, Amphinomus, intervened, placing a hand on Eurymachus’s shoulder. “Let it go,” he said, his tone wary. Eurymachus grumbled something under his breath before slumping back into his chair. The hall slowly returned to its previous clamor, but the suitors left you alone after that.

Telemachus turned to you, his expression softening. He gently took the tray from your trembling hands and set it down on a nearby table. “Are you alright?” he asked, his voice quiet now.

You nodded, though your hands still shook. “I… I didn’t know what to do.” He placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “You don’t have to do anything, Y/N. I’ll handle them.”

Tears pricked your eyes as you looked up at him. “Why do they have to be so awful?”

“Because they’re cowards,” Telemachus said, his jaw tightening. “But don’t worry. Father will be back soon, and when he is, they’ll regret ever setting foot in this palace.”

You managed a small smile, comforted by his confidence. “Come on,” he said, guiding you out of the hall. “You don’t need to be around them anymore. I’ll make sure of it.”

As he led you to the quieter parts of the palace, you felt a wave of gratitude for your brother.

[evergumi]

megumi loves showering with you, but it's not even in a sexual way. it was just the way you massaged your slender fingers into his raven locks so lovingly, the scent of your sweet-smelling shampoo filling his nostrils as your fingertips scraped his scalp that made him want to shed tears; the way he finds comfort in the warm water cascading around the two of you, steam rising and enveloping the small space like a gentle hug.

soft music plays from outside the shower, overlapping the constant sound of the water running. the gentle notes of glue song by beabadoobee fill the air, your soft hums mixing with the words as you wash his hair, creating a soothing melody and drowning out the world outside. the way you tenderly rinse out the lather, eyes occasionally meeting with that playful spark, makes him feel secure, almost cherished as he tries to fight back the small twitch of his lips.

"close your eyes," you say softly. "let me wash it out." the warm water from the showerhead runs through his hair, and the feeling of your hands in his hair makes him rest a gentle hand on your shoulder. the soft melody of the song playing adds to the calm atmosphere. as you finish rinsing out the shampoo, megumi smiles at you, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

“my turn,” he murmurs as he turns you around, giving your arm a gentle caress as he squeezes a generous amount of shampoo onto his calloused palm, combing through your dark locks with his other hand as you giggle. the pale pink liquid forms suds in your hair, and he gently massages it into your head as you sing along to the music, a smile on your face. bringing the showerhead to your head as you did for him and turning it on, he cups your cheek and tells you to close your eyes. he runs his rough fingertips through your silky hair, watching in awe as the soap suds clear out. “your hair…” he mumbles. “this is why it smells so good…”

you chuckle softly, squeezing your eyes shut as shampooey water runs over your eyes.

“you say that every time.”

“that’s because it smells too good not to say anything, y/n.”

he cups your cheeks, murmuring softly to relax your eyes as you close them so that he can squeeze out the water, just in case it hurt them; he uses the pads of his thumbs to gently press against your eyelids, trying to hide the slight twitch of his lips as you scrunch your nose.

the moments stretch into a quiet intimacy as water drips rhythmically around you, each drop a soft reminder of the bond you share. he leans into your touch, eyes fluttering closed as he relishes the feeling of being cared for. sometimes, you share stories, laughter intertwining with the sound of water, and his heart swells at the joy of these simple, yet profound moments. it's a retreat from everything else, a sanctuary built on trust and warmth, where the chaos of life fades away, leaving only the sweet solace of companionship. and in those fleeting moments, he realizes that it’s not just a shower—it’s a little piece of heaven, a small escape that he longs for, more and more each day.

“guess what i’m drawing on your back,” you giggle. “draw what you feel on the fog.”

tracing your slender finger over his back, megumi frowns in concentration as he uses his calloused fingertip to draw what he feels on his back onto the fogged-up glass door, making you laugh yet again.

“what is that, gumi?”

“i don’t know. what is that, y/n?”

“the doggies, nutmeg.”

“don’t call me that.”

your laughter bounces softly off the bathroom walls, and megumi lets out a quiet grumble. after a moment of silence, he clears his throat and turns to trace his own finger along the glass door again, this time more deliberate.

you tilt your head curiously as you watch him. “what’re you drawing now?”

he doesn’t answer, focused on the small shapes forming beneath his fingertip. when he steps aside, you see it—a little family of stick figures, one noticeably smaller than the other two, with scribbly “dogs” beside them.

“megumi,” you whisper softly, feeling your heart squeeze.

he shrugs, his tone casual but his expression soft. “just thinking it’d be nice, you know. you, me, the dogs… and maybe a little girl.”

your chest tightens with warmth as you stare at the little drawing. you can almost hear the giggles of a child blending into the sound of the water, a soft addition to these peaceful moments.

megumi doesn’t say anything more, but the way his hand lingers over yours and the small upward tug of his lips tells you enough. and in that moment, he can imagine these showers, but with a small, giggling girl in the mix, her laughter filling the space with a kind of joy he never knew he needed.

a/n ⋆ megumi would def be a girl dad and im gonna say this till the day i die guys i need him to carry my child hes too wholesome my adorable husband :((((

thank you for reading, ily ! lmk if you wanna be tagged and remember, reqs are always open loves !

© evergumi

[goodlucktai]

WAIT WAIT WAIT ok im sorry you can ignore this ask and the other ask too BUT I've been on a baby casey & f!leo fatherson kick brainrot lately and I just think prompt 27 would be heatbreaking and wonderful all at once, ok but fr love you big fan 💕🫂

dialogue prompts

27. “Breathe... breathe. Look at the stars, kid.”

it's @soldrawss birthday and i JUST found out because apparently i am a huge joke to her /j

HAPPY BIRTHDAY SOL i hope your day was lovely and that you enjoy this small offering

x

They’re barely home for an hour when Casey’s breath catches in his throat. 

It’s sudden enough that he chokes mid-word and starts to cough, his body trying to clear its airway except that there isn’t any blockage there to dislodge. When he finally manages to suck in a breath that fills his lungs halfway, it rattles in with an audible reedy wheeze. 

Maybe no one noticed, he thinks hysterically, and lifts his eyes to find his entire not-family staring at him from their various positions around the room. 

“You good?” Mikey says, wrapped hands already up like he was ready to make the save if Casey keeled over. 

“Fine,” he says, or tries to. It comes out sounding so hoarse that he might as well have just opened his mouth and croaked at him like a mutant bullfrog. 

Mikey’s brow furrows beneath his dirtied orange mask and he whips around to look to his big brothers for guidance, the way he never really grew out of doing, even after the end of the world. 

Leo is already moving, pushing himself upright off the cot that Raph just set him down on. He waves the instant chorus of “Leo, I swear to god”s away and limps over to where Casey had stationed himself by the handwash sink. He starts to limp over, anyway, and one of his legs folds beneath him immediately, and he would have eaten concrete if it weren’t for all the hands that shot out from all sides to catch him. 

There are still hands to catch him here. It’s nice. 

The tightness in Casey’s chest is unbearable now that he’s given it a second of attention. What he mistook for anxiety and adrenaline was maybe not entirely that, after all. He’s usually better about catching the warning signs—if he’d run the system update that’s been haunting the corner of his HUD for the last week like he should have done, the program designed specifically to monitor his asthma symptoms would have thrown up its own red flag by now. Multiple flags in multiple colors, even, impossible to ignore and more annoying by the second until Casey admitted defeat and took himself to the medbay. 

As long as the update is queued, taking up memory, there’s a ghost in the CPU. As long as there’s a ghost, his family still exists somewhere. They’re not gone, they came here with him. They’re alive and the world didn’t end and Casey can breathe. 

Later, he’ll feel really stupid about this. Later, he’ll hate the way he snatched up Leo’s hands the second they moved into his line of sight and clung to him like a scared little kid. 

But right now he is that scared little kid. 

“Hey, Space-Case,” not-sensei says with sensei’s crooked smile. He almost definitely has a broken cheekbone, and two black eyes, and he’s smiling like he doesn’t feel any of it. ��Sounds like you’ve been holding out on us. Slow and steady, life’s not a race unless you make it one.” 

Casey knows what it sounds like when Leo is worried, can hear the upset under the polished glass surface of calm. It shouldn't be comforting to know that, but it’s comforting to know him. He ekes in a breath, it scratches all the way down and it doesn’t feel like it makes a difference, but the success emboldens him to suck down another. 

“You were breathy on the ride home, I thought it must have been from all the smoke,” Leo goes on. “But I guess that was a trigger. Do you have an inhaler?”

“Y–” Casey starts to say, and coughs again, and Leo’s fingers tighten around his before he can panic. “Belt,” he gasps. 

“Okay, that’s enough from you,” Leo says a little shortly. Which isn’t very fair, Casey was just answering his question. Then he realizes Leo’s clipped tone is probably because Casey’s dizziness is overpowering his ability to stand upright.

“Going down,” Leo says to someone else, and instantly, Casey’s controlled fall is arrested halfway is arrested halfway to the floor. 

The last time Uncle Rapha held him, he was much smaller and Raph was much bigger, but somehow it feels the same. He leans back in Raph’s lap, the solid plastron behind him bracing him upright, and clumsily tries to help Leo paw through the pouches on his belt. The third time Leo bats Casey’s hands away, Raph reaches around and holds them still. 

“Let’s let the boss work,” Raph rumbles softly. It’s a miracle that he has any softness to spare for Casey, of all people, who closed the door and left his brother behind it. Left his brother in the dark where the monsters live. “We’re still breathing, right, big man?”

“R—Right,” Casey says, but it’s barely got enough air behind it to count. 

“No inhaler,” Leo announces, already turning to address someone else in the room. “Donnie, metal cabinet by the door, third drawer down, should be one in there.” Turning back, he leans in and pins Casey to the spot with a look. “Keep breathing, Case,” he says. “That’s your only job. Don’t slack off now.”

“Why do we have one?” Mikey asks in a voice that shakes. Casey manages to split enough of his attention to regret scaring him. 

“Red used to have asthma when you were all just little turtles,” Splinter says quietly. “He outgrew it, but Blue always says—”

“It’s chronic, not curable,” Leo says in a falsely bright tone, the cadence of an ancient argument. He catches the box his twin throws over and wastes no time ripping it open and shaking the inhaler into his palm. Within seconds, it’s primed, and Leo is curling one hand behind Casey’s head and bringing the mouthpiece to his lips and ordering, “Deep breath.” 

He obeys, feeling the medicine go to work, and holds without exhaling for as long as he can. It’s not long, barely five seconds. Leo shakes the canister and has it ready for him again when he’s ready to suck in another desperate puff. 

“Okay,” Leo says, studying his face with back and forth flicks of bright gold eyes. “You’re okay, Casey. Breathe.” 

“Breathe… breathe,” sensei says, large fingers combing Casey’s hair back from his sweaty forehead. His hand is calloused from the hilt of his sword, rough with scars that didn’t heal well, and gentle. 

“Look at the stars, kid,” he adds, their family’s little joke. There hadn’t been a clear night since the war started, the skies overcast with smoke and ash and pollution from the Technodromes, but every single room Casey had ever lived in had glow-in-the-dark constellations on the ceiling. 

“Look at the stars,” sensei says. 

There aren’t any, Casey wants to cry, maybe would if he had the breath to. There aren’t any anymore. 

Instead he inhales and exhales, carefully, counting each second in his head. The tension seeps out of the room like water through a sieve. Splinter is talking about hot drinks, April is talking about calling her mom. Four bright lights stay sat, a constellation that Casey is somehow in the middle of. 

“I haven’t had an attack in years,” Raph murmurs quietly. He’s rocking Casey very slowly and doesn’t seem to realize he’s doing it. “Since I was—six or seven, maybe. You kept one this whole time?”

“Correction, the medication expires, so he has consistently replaced each one this whole time,” Donnie says, and sways disinterestedly with the force behind Leo’s disgruntled shove of his shoulder. 

“Oh,” Raph says. “But why?” he asks a moment later. 

“So I could say I told you so when you ended up needing it,” Leo replies disingenuously. 

Casey could say that sensei carried an inhaler in his kit every time he went into the field. Even after Uncle Raph died, he stayed in the habit. It saved Casey’s life once, the day they discovered he had asthma in the worst possible way. Sensei didn’t say I told you so to anyone. That was never the point.

“He loves you,” Casey says. “That’s why.”

For a moment, none of them speak. Then Mikey’s smile fills the room like stubborn sunshine finally breaking through rain clouds. Donnie says, “Intelligent beyond your years. I understand now why Future Me kept you around.” Leo seems to be considering the pros and cons of sinking into his shell and never coming out again, hunched small and embarrassed beside his big brother.

Casey can’t see Raph’s expression, but he can imagine what it looks like. He knows the feeling.

Casey was loved by Leo, once, too.

[milli-moi]

Honestly, I have other thoughts on a few of your reads here on Agatha’s reasoning for wanting to make Wanda believe she is evil. At first I thought I disagreed but I don’t think I do, I think I more want to open the door (pun not initially intended - and then very intended) to other aspects of this pain.

I have a different perspective and honestly when I rewatched Wandavision after watching AAA I really felt seen.

I will never be a parent, it’s something I’ve wanted my whole life but in recent years my partner and I have come to accept that we don’t think we would be able to be the parents what we would want to be and that a child deserves due to our combination of disabilities.

This hurts like hell. I was somewhat numb to it for a year or two but then last year we learned that a friend who we used to be very close to and who had been told she might never have children, was pregnant. This destroyed me in a way I hadn’t expected it to and it continues to destroy me in a lot of ways. One of the things I hate most is an unbelievable jealousy.

I am not a jealous person- yes I’ve had moments but generally I am happy for people. The jealousy I have every time I see this friend’s family and other friends share photos of them spending time with the baby my thoughts are unreasonable.

Through this, watching another person you know (or relate to in Agatha’s case) live the life you wanted, you craved, and have it come to them so easily when you have suffered so much pain to not even have the outcome you needed, I felt a huge connection to Agatha.

I have not lost a child, no, but I have lost the possibility of being a parent and although it isn’t the same pain it is incredibly intense and hard to live with.

Agatha needs Wanda to be the bad guy, needs her to suffer because Wanda got the things she wanted, and if there was such a thing as deserving a happy ending then Agatha doesn’t see why her and Wanda deserved different things. They both had traumatic childhoods, they both turned to darkness to cope -Wanda to Hydra, Agatha to killing witches and dark magic - but Wanda, in a way, was rewarded for that. Wanda got adopted by the avengers, she got a new home, a purpose, a chance to be loved.

Agatha got her chance to be loved for the first time by Death. How cruel and ironic and filled with metaphor about unloved children is that? And even then, in a life of around 360 years, Agatha maybe got 50 years of happiness before it all fell apart.

Wanda experienced loss, but she was supported and comforted and then on top of that she got her children, her ‘spontaneous creation of life’ - just like she had with Rio, except Wanda’s boys got to live.

Agatha hates Wanda in a few ways, feels so much warmth towards her in others, but I think a lot of the hate, the anger is a case of ‘why do you get to be happy?’

On bad days, days when I’m really heavily reminded of my own life situation, without going into too many details I can say that I have wanted to say this to so many people. I think it’s a valid response when you have had disabilities, illnesses and conditions, mental health and your own sexuality hold you back so often.

When you look at the happy family your friend has and it makes you feel sick because you feel so many emotions, and in ways you never thought you were even capable of.

WANDAVISION DEEP DIVE part 3

(Wandavision entries: part [1][2][3])

(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][+1] ep5 [1][2][3][4][5] ep6 [1][2][3] ep7 [1][2][3][4][5][6] ep8 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9] ep9 [1][2][3][4][5][6])

We left Agatha killing her coven in a flashback (but sparing their children). Back to present Agatha, and what is she doing? Pretending to talk to her rabbit. Look, she might be a dedicated con artist, but she can only come up with very cheesy characters, what can you do?

Is she meeting the real you, Agatha, are you sure?

oh she's so intrigued

She's about to be very very cruel, and there's a lot to unpack here. To her torture is a mean to an end, but there's also rage, jealousy, bitterness, so much bitterness there. She hates witches, and she hates Wanda. She also can't help sympathizing with Wanda, the parallels between the two of them are obvious. There are always so many contradicting emotions in Agatha.

Like, the way she's been teaching her about magic. She's taunting her, she's showing off. But once upon a time she was a clueless young witch denied knowledge from her elders. And now that Wanda is in that position, she could teach her. She almost wants to. She is curious, she loves learning, finding out how things work, and in other, better universes she is a teacher.

*angrily shakes a bird at Wanda*

LOOK WHO'S TALKING, OH MY GOD. But honestly though, that's why she can't help sympathizing. They are the same.

And she is a biiiiiit in lust too tbh. Not her fault she has a high libido. Agatha is having a DAY.

A good rule of thumb is, the more Agatha jokes, the more she's uncomfortable with a situation, the fact that she's making fun of a little boy tells you right away that she doesn't mean it. Sarcasm is her defense skill. She was barely able to contain her rage a moment ago, she is not as calm as she appears. And she doesn't like having to sit through Wanda's trauma one bit, both because she's sorry for Wanda and because she doesn't want to witness that pain herself. She had hoped to crack Wanda without having to do this, but she won't step down now, she won't relent.

that's a whole lesbian, dear god. thank you costume and hair departments and thank you kathryn hahn.

my theory is that detective Agnes of Westview was clearly created by Agatha herself rather than Wanda and speaks about her grim personality and eagerness to solve mysteries, but we'll get to that later

that's interesting, she smiles at Wanda, looks worried at the door for a second, then smiles at Wanda again. play acting or real concern? Wanda wasn't looking at her face in that moment.

her body language is something between intrigued and defensive

NOT THIS BITCH DRYING HER EYES AGAIN AT THE "WHAT IS GRIEF BUT LOVE PERSEVERING" SPEECH.

You know what though, for Agatha to know exactly what buttons to push to break Wanda, she'd need to have a deep understanding of how trauma and grief work. Which means she knows the way she blames Rio and hangs up on Nicky's memory is not healthy, but she is unwilling or unable to make an effort towards healing. Not that you can ever completely heal from something like that tbh, but she knows the way she's acting is making things worse.

The slow clap, she's such a cheesy villain. That (gay) way she sits though, she wants both to project strength and to shield her body, she is nervous. She's now 100% sure that Wanda is the Scarlet Witch. Time for her last gamble.

Knowing Agatha as we know her now, it's easy to see she's wearing her best witchy costume to put on the ultimate show. She made Wanda cry to get at her secrets, now it's time to make her angry. She could just have provoked her in the first place, but like I said she's at her core a coward detective and scholar and yearns to learn stuff. I really do believe that Billy and Tommy weren't in any actual danger here and it looks worse than it is. On the other hand, she is absolutely scaring them shitless, but like with Sparky she chooses to ignore their mental well-being if it gets her what she wants. She's not physically hurting them so that's fine, right? And, well, she did the same with Nicky. She loved him so desperately and also selfishly kept him isolated and kept killing in his name. There's a reason why she feels so guilty and can't face him now.

The parallels, tho. The episode starting with Evanora calling her a monster, and ending with her calling Wanda a monster.

Last episode!!!!

telling the kids to take cover as soon as she can get away with it. Wanted to hurt them my ass.

Pathetic! Are you even a real witch? Yep, her usual bit. And especially harsh too. Agatha is gambling a LOT here.

"The Scarlet Witch is not born, she is forged. She has no power, no need for incantation." Agatha was forged the same way, with pain and hellfire, does that give her a claim to Wanda's magic? (Also, power of mother earth on the poster behind? How very green witch!)

How hard and deliberately Agatha is working to traumatize Wanda even further, to make her believe she's a monster. And Agatha is in such an unique position to understand what Wanda is going through, what it means to be called evil for something you are and not for something you do. She knows what it means not being able to control your powers, Wanda never meant to hurt any of these people! She could teach her, offer her community and support. But what does Agatha do instead? Exactly what her mother did to her.

She wants to kill her to take her powers, and she wants to kill her because she's afraid of her. And yet she's also looking in a mirror. Doesn't her neck thingy look like a clergy collar too? She's on the other side of inquisition now.

have you ever read Passing by Nella Larsen? it made me think a lot about how marginalized communities isolate their most vulnerable members and recreate the dynamics of the oppressor, as a way to keep some form of control and also to express their trauma and anger. Wanda didn't do anything to Agatha, but she's the perfect target for Agatha to vent all her pain and anger and frustration.

Wanda tries to copy Agatha and make her relive her traumas, not a good idea trying to manipulate the master manipulator. Agatha has studied and observed and knows a lot about Wanda and that is why her manipulation is so effective, Wanda doesn't know Agatha at all, she's only heard lies so far. Here for example she assumes that Agatha killed the Salemites on purpose, she has no clue that their situations are so similar.

I told you that witches wouldn't accept you, that they would call you a monster and come after you. So much bitterness. That's Agatha's tragedy, and that is what's behind all her selfishness, killing witches, keeping Nicky isolated, torturing Wanda. Passing her trauma along. As much as she chose to be what she currently is... choosing the opposite would have been much easier if she had a community cherishing and teaching her. Just look at how much having an actual loving coven, even for a short time, will make a difference in the future.

and then Wanda wins not because she's more powerful but because Agatha couldn't stop herself from blabbing and showing off and teaching about runes. oh, the irony

what WANDA'S done???? Agatha, you've been poking a nexus being with a stick for days, you useless fuckup (affectionate)

lmaooo she fell ass up

LOOK WHO'S TALKING

Agatha under the spell immediately flirting with Wanda is maybe top five most hilarious things she's ever done

and that's a wrap! Ballad of the witches road here I come!

go to AAA part 1

[acupofinkedblood]

Banhammer x reader

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

• Ah, the infamous ruthless tyrant of Banland, the raging warden who serves justice violently with a swing of his hammer. Maybe he isn’t the most well-known for his actual name, but if you remind people of how close they are getting to see the warden himself, you will definitely witness a lots of them start to wince in raw distress because oh boy do they know better than to be standing face to face with that guy. Banhammer is a merciless and cocky bastard to the core, whether it is his actual intention to piss people off or not. It’s just his nature to get on people’s nerves at this point. So here’s the one hundred bux question: How the hell did you stand his ass? Or just in case you start listing out your reasons - How the heck did the thing between you two even started and then escalated this far?

• For whatever the reason of a joke, your life has been gifting you a miracle under the disguise of a chaotic fun-sized bomb contains confetti and hot sauce when it has weaved the destined red thread on your pinky to Banhammer’s. Like it or not, that’s your case of a deal now. I won’t ask you why all of every options you have available, you go for a guy with an ego as big as his own muscles with the attitude that has the magic to get on anyone’s nerves unintentionally, because your reason won’t amuse me too much. The question isn’t who falls first, but who has the audacity to admit it first because it feels like an endless game of cat and mouse on the river of playing dumb between you and him

• One thing you have to keep in mind about Banhammer is how the idea of dating a mortal is being associated as a foolish act of sentimental behavior, in which that belief has been engraved deep into his mind with little room for negotiation. Especially when he has seen what happened to his cousin’s family, the downfall and the trauma it has left them make him feel uneasy. Maybe a tad of sympathy for them as well, they were too young to witness that. As if his work’s line doesn’t make him have no time left to breathe — let alone dating stuff — but if he has to date, who would he set his eyes on anyway? There are barely any options for him aside from dating a mortal. Will he be enthusiastic about the idea? Hell no, he has stated his mind and nothing can ever change the way he thinks. Will he regret his own statement because he will literally go against that soon? Absolutely

• Because then he meets you. A mortal, no more and no less. Under normal circumstances, you should have been nothing but another light of life passing through with little significance to his life as any other mortals he used to know before. Nothing but a bystander, as how he usually puts it. And it should just stay like that! Unless you’re a criminal of course. But fate just really loves to laugh into his face — or in this case, his attempt of reminding himself that — in the most unexpected way possible. From a stranger, you start to grow on him, for the worse or the bette. It’s just those simple things, yet it makes him looking over to your direction a bit longer than usual. When Banhammer realizes just how much he is pinning over you, wanting to see you the next time he is out of duty, he knows damn well that he is screwed

• He will be in denial. Yes, you hear me right, there are no ways that he is going to deal with these forsaken feelings that shouldn’t exist in the first place. Don’t get him wrong, he likes you genuinely. You have been a pleasant company in his life, something good to look forward to in the future - in which yes, he adds you to that list of those things he likes in his mind. But the idea of commitment to a mortal is still making him feel uncertain. Like he used to say, that’s just asking for tragedy. Children of the Swords are meant to work, not fool around and see what happens! He isn’t going to be a hypocrite that goes back on his words, that’s just absurd. But on top of that, he will never tell anyone this, but he is scared. Don’t think that with those little emotional intelligence will turn him into a mass of brawny muscle, he still feels things too. And he has a reason to be afraid of that possibility

• You are a mortal, he is a demi-deity. Minus the clear difference in status, he knows you can’t stay with him forever until the sun burns into nothing but a beautiful mass of destruction. He will have to grieve you, as he will outlive you sooner or later. Sure, maybe there exists a chance that he will die first since like it or not, he can still be killed by mortal’s hands. But it isn’t a problem to him. Banhammer can keep his head on his neck as long as he has the situation under control. But you on the other hand, will have to deal with old age. He doesn’t like to think of that view in the future, and the heartbreak that comes with it. Windforce above, he is scared. Banhammer will probably be in denial for who knows how long, as long as it will do him a favor of burying his own feelings. But you know this bastard better than that

• Give him a moment to collect himself, then take out a coin. You think that you will need to flip a coin to see if it’s the head or tails? Wrong, just toss the coin into nowhere because you don’t need to know if fate gives you the green light to engage with this mess the two of you have walked in without even knowing it firsthand. As much as Banhammer tries to resist his own feelings, he just can’t resist you. His mind is currently having a storm because of you after all. Like it’s mentioned earlier, give him some time to relax first. Reassuring him that it doesn’t hurt to listen to what we want in our hearts. Maybe you might jest that after you die, he can keep a little piece of your horn to be a good luck charm. And yeah, he will just rolls his eyes with a clicked tongue. Though it does lighten up the mood somewhat after you two just joke around back and forth about it. He appreciates it, he really does. It gives him the courage to decide on his own

• To say that Banhammer doesn’t have confidence is a wild take because have you seen this man? He knows his worths. He knows that if he steps out to the battlefield, he will knock all of those damn criminals down with little regard to error. To claim that he doesn’t know what is he doing is just pure stupidity — although sometimes you do wonder where the hell is his last brain cell in certain moments — he believes in his strength and loves to take on challenges, even going as far as making things harder for himself just to prove how strong he is. Maybe when you step into his life, he does the most questionable thing ever just to impress you. Though it does look silly most of the time, but hey, at least it’s sort of cute

• He strives to be the best, nothing less than that. Banhammer has that competitive spirit that allows him to achieve even the impossible at the nick of time. Sometimes those banters that occur between you two happen just because he finds it so necessary to boost his own name over the moon, especially when it comes to his work. If it isn’t obvious, he can be petty if you’re better than him in what he is an expert at, golf is included. This bastard will literally sulk if you take away his chance to impress you. It’s mostly lighthearted as he will pin it as a goal to surpass you the next time the two of you get around this topic again. His ego is as big as how he looks after all, don’t be so surprised when you see that shit-eating grin looking at you when he wins again

• Banhammer does things in his own way without further useless elaborations. He just acts on whatever he deems fit. Sometimes it brings him quiet the troubles whether it’s with you or his team. When he makes a flaw, he will bring up a scroll of excuse to get his point across. But don’t think he will just repeat that mistake. Banhammer knows how to look back to learn from his mistakes. He just does that without the need of anyone to notice and call it out. It’s irritating to him. Honestly it’s probably the fact he wants to have that feeling when everything is within his grasp so it won’t stray the other way too far. No one needs to point out his mistakes after he acknowledged it. You don’t need to repeat yourself to him, he knows

• Oh boy may the SFOTHs be at your mercy because this guy will definitely tease you until you can’t see the light anymore, especially before the two of you were officially in a relationship. It feels like most of the bones in his body are all mean ones at this point. Sometimes you might wonder if he’s just pulling your leg or does he actually mean what he says. Usually it’s just something about your personality, appearance, work-related stuff or even just out of nowhere stuff when he is beside you. As if that’s the only way he has in mind to strike up a conversation with you: To begin it with a short joke. Don’t worry too much, he means well to a certain extent, so just keep your head up

• This might surprise you but he is actually a decent leader. He has a police team under his command at Banland. Some people might assume that he would treat his subordinates like how he treated his prisoners, but they have never been more than just wrong in their life when saying that. He only cause harm to those dipshits who disobey the obvious law. He still knows what is right and not, making the assumption that he treats everyone like shit is so unfair. Banhammer looks at his subordinates like family at some point. They can even call him out on being stupid when they see him blindfolded himself then almost walking into lava, and he doesn’t take it to heart. They can jest around with him that way with ease

• Banhammer can be such a flirt sometimes. But do keep in mind that he is also pretty out of pocket here and there. Not much of a shocker, isn’t it? When the two of you don’t know each other, he keeps things professional in the box. When you slowly starts to get to know him more personally as the feeling is somehow mutual, that’s the peak of him becoming such a bastard. It’s that line between keeping things casual and making you feel wanted. He literally says the most ridiculous things ever with a straight face. Definitely the type to make suggestive jokes and then laugh his throat off when seeing how flustered you are. But when you return the favor back to him, his brain just stops functioning for a good few seconds as he is pretty much screaming internally like a teenager

• Once you gets to know him better aside from that warden persona he has almost all of the time on while he is at duty, you will soon realize that he also has a heart. Banhammer has a soft side that he hides under the amount of armor wore on his body. He keeps it to himself because letting others get their hands on his ‘weakness’ isn’t what he looks forward to at all. Being soft is equal to being weak, that’s what he keeps repeating inside his mind. But well, not when you manage to work your way into his heart. Spending times alone with you, letting you know the fullest of him - it suddenly doesn’t feel so bad anymore

• This is a hot take but despite that rough and cocky exterior, he is actually pretty lovely in a relationship. Surely that he won’t just flip out immediately and turns into a completely different person when being with you, but you can notice that obvious change of tone in his voice when speaking to you. It feels much more gentle than when he is speaking to someone else. Banhammer isn’t too much of a romantic guy, but he knows how to appreciate a special someone in his life. Each touch he lovingly ghosts against your skin, to caress your face or to rub your back, he means every single one of them. The way he tries to deny the fact that he is nervous because of this particular relationship — which is completely new to him surprisingly — is just adorable while he glances over at you. But you know he holds no heat between those eyes, because the very next moment he already presses a kiss onto your lips as an attempt to prove you his words

• He is pretty much protective of you. This doesn’t just come from the difference in power scales of you and him, but also from the fact that he is worried about those pesky criminals that will seek you out for revenge against him. Although Banhammer is confident of his own strength to protect the two of you, and if you can also fight, he respects that too. But when he has to be away for investigation at other regions, he can’t help but be a little obnoxious when making sure that you are safe and sound at home. Even when you can kick ass, you can’t kick multiple asses at once! And he is even more of a worrywart if you can’t fight much. The thought of someone coming for you when he isn’t there to keep you unharmed is terrifying. You can’t really blame him when wanting to check up on you regularly like that. He means well, please keeps that in mind. Anyone who touches you the wrong way, even just a little bruise, will see a fate worse than Ghostwalker’s purgatory itself. Banhammer swears it, and you knows he takes that seriously

• He works out a lots, mainly to train himself to avoid getting sloppy the next time he is out chasing a certain cultist’s ass off. Seeing him working out is actually pretty intriguing, especially when you take a look at his schedule. It does rotate depending on how the day is going, but nonetheless, it’s all intense as hell. You’re free to join him if you want, but don’t feel awful when you can’t keep up with him and have to give up halfway. Banhammer will laugh at it, saying that you’re already lucky enough you don’t get a stroke then evaporate into nowhere with your determination. He is a demi-deity after all, it’s natural for people like you to be unable to catch up to him. Before you sulk and leave the place, he might tell you to get on his back as he starts doing pushups. You don’t want to miss that invitation, it’s actually pretty amusing when he pulls that off. That’s his way to keep you around and feel useful, and it works like a charm

• His wings are also quite the fascination. It’s not uncommon to be dumbfounded when you realize he has those wings which he can summon under the form of solidified energy at will, since he doesn’t feel the need to let anyone know about it. Poor those criminals when they have to see him charge with that ungodly speed of his wings directly at them though. But for you, things are pretty different than that comical scenario. Banhammer won’t mind holding you while flying around if that’s what you want. But do expect that this guy will still be an asshole about the entire thing as he will playfully threaten to drop you. He will never do that, just so you know. It only happens the few first time you two flying together

• And how can one even forget his unmistakable four eyes? With how much he blindfolded them by his own hands just so he can challenge himself even more, that wince when he takes it off and sees the light poking directly into his four eyes is always a laughable sight. How does it feel to not only have a pair of eyes looking at your direction, but two coming from the same person? When Banhammer takes off his blindfold, his expression will be easier to keep track on as his emotions really just be given away in his eyes. You know just how he is feeling at the moment just by looking into his eyes: Upset, happy, confused, worried…It feels like he is vulnerable in front of you and only you. On the side note, he can’t look directly into your eyes for too long since he sucks at eye contact without a blindfold. it just feels funny in a questionable way in his mind

• His hugs are suffocating in the best way possible. It’s firm, a bit rough yet still has that soothing effect that is able to calm your nerves down when needed. It’s hard to struggle out of his hug, but it doesn’t feel bad at all. You already knows just how strong he is with all that muscles and stuff going on inside his body, and with how he wields his massive hammer with ease too, so it’s natural to assume that Banhammer has that deadly powerful grip that can easily bruise you if he isn’t being careful. Honestly he is reluctant to give you physical affection at first, mainly because he doesn’t want to underestimate his strength and hurt you intentionally. It takes him quite a while as well as a good load of reassurance that he won’t crush your bones that easily — Mind you, he can but he won’t, just saying — until he eventually gives in

• Whether it’s because of the fact that Banland are surrounded by lava pool scattered almost everywhere on the surface or it’s just the fact that he is a walking personal heater, Banhammer’s body is more than just warm. Hold the hot jokes, I know you were about to say it. Yup, hold your horse buddy. But he does feel like a walking fireplace for most of the time, especially during winter for some reasons that you both can’t fully comprehend. He is the prefect partner to cuddle beneath the blanket with when you have a long day, as it’s highly recommended that you should do so in rainy or snowy weather. Summer can be a bit insufferable though, since his body feels too warm to your taste. You will probably have a heatstroke hugging him without an air conditioner in the room

• Sometimes he says blunt things that will hurt your feelings. He is rather emotionally inept, oblivious to other’s emotions around him. Banhammer tends to be brutally honest with his mind, saying things that can hurt others without realizing the actual effect behind it. Even when people get annoyed or upset with him, he might fail to even notice at first. Sometimes it can lead to a serious verbal fight between the two of you. That is until you have to point directly into his face and makes a statement about how hurt you felt when he said that does he realize he has screwed up. Banhammer is pretty much dumbfounded at the weight of his own words to you. Seeing you upset makes he feel bad. Banhammer will try his best to make things right again so that he can see that smile which he loves soon. Please know that he is trying, he doesn’t mean to hurt you

• Banhammer cares for you. If you’re mad at him, he will do just anything to make it up for you, even at the most absurd request you make him do - which he will begrudgingly accept his fate because he knows damn well just how angry you are. He is, surprisingly, willing to take a step back in an argument when things are too heated. Only you have that privilege though, other time he will just grunt back as if he is about to chew the other speaker’s head off. He mainly figures out how to apologize to you on his own without the help of anyone, it’s just embarrassing if one day he comes up to his subordinates and ask what should he do when his beloved is mad at him. They will laugh the living hell out of themselves. But then again, he does keep in mind what do you like so he can get it or do it in addition to his apology. Sometimes he does it pretty stiff since it feels off to actually apologize to someone. But hey, it’s the genuine thought that counts

• Windforce might have heard of you, mainly because of how Banhammer has quite the deep connection with his momma. This guy is a certified mama’s boy after all. He will tell her everything about you once he gets the chance to see his momma again. Windforce is pretty taken back by the news of her son’s selection in partner, a mortal, to be specific. She does doubt you at first due to her worries towards her son. But them she has came into terms with it as she knows there are no point interfering Banhammer’s business. She doesn’t have time to meet you, as she is pretty much occupied with her own business. Yet she will still send her blessings to you, a favor from her for making her son that happy. As long as Banhammer is contented with you, she doesn’t see the point in being against the whole thing

• His strong sense of justice is inherited from Windforce. Although it doesn’t sound that fitting, ‘justice’ and ‘Windforce’ together, since most demons know her because of her ruthlessness. But little did you know about the connection between using force and serving righteousness. Her justice doesn’t involve the gray between black and white, and it can blind her to the extreme point. Banhammer looks up at his mother, so he has taken her justice with him. The reason he resolves to use violence is because it teaches a better lesson than normal words - a good point, because even Banhammer knows that he sucks at using words to find a peaceful solution with those pesky criminals. He cringes at the lowly idea

• There will be a day that you will be but a memory in his mind. Banhammer used to be scared of the thought of you dying due to your mortality before him — and for your information, he still feels that uneasy feeling whenever he is reminded of it — but seeing those happy moments between the two of you, he knows that the film of you running in his mind will be a pleasant one. He will grieve you, of course he will. But then those good memories will help him back onto his feet once again. Banhammer will convince himself he that you are watching over him and his future. The thought of your spirit just cheering on his accomplishments is kinda funny, but endearing. Sometimes he might look at you with this silly question in his mind: If he can go back in time, will he still make the decision of this lifelong commitment with you

• And he answers it on his own with no hesitation: Always. No matter how many choices he is allowed to make, he will still come to you. Like it or not, aside from his mother and his works of serving justice, you will also one if his most important responsibilities who he adores and cherish until everything returns to ashes. You are his lover after all, why wouldn’t he choose you? He makes a vow to stay with you no matter what happens. Despite that cocky attitude that makes you want to punch him into the oblivion, you can’t deny that his soft side does melt your heart. Please remember just how much you mean to him, because you are the best thing he has ever happened in his life, he has the right to be proud of that

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

Note: I’m so sorry for the delay! Hopefully these are long enough to make up for my disappearance (*´-`)

[blessedbucky]

we tried the world, good god, it wasn't for us! (part 5.2)

pairing: autistic!satoru x suguru x autistic!reader

word count: 10.4k (relatively mild if i do say so myself)

summary: "suguru won't hurt me."

tags: autistic!reader, autistic!satoru, canon-typical violence, the blood and gore associated with jjk, introducing the shitty and creepy zen'in clan, it's ANGST, like hurt/no comfort level here

beautiful people who asked to be tagged 💕: @ichikanu, @iceheartsice, @anders-is-being-a-simp-again, @lexlibrary

author note: PREMATURE DEATH ARC BABY, this is gonna fucking HURT. also i've got a cute lil' banner that i made that i'm trying to use to create a story masterpost but old lady is having issues formatting on shitty tumblr. stay tuned for new looks hopefully.

chapter links: 1, 2, 3, 4.1, 4.2, 5.1, AO3

[YEAR THREE]

[PART TWO]

“You look tired, Senpai.”

The voice that breaks the silence of dawn is such a shock that the speed in which you snap your head up and to the side puts a crick in your neck. “Yu?” You subtly clutch at your neck, digging your fingers into the sore spot but feigning rubbing it as to not insult him because you expected Kento to be here, not him. “What has you up so early? You don’t train until a little later, don’t you?”

He blinks owlishly. “You really pay attention to the small things, it’s amazing.”

“Oh. Just like drawing and cursed spirits are my thing, I know martial arts are yours. You’re my friend and I try to remember the things they love.”

Yu perks up, grinning brightly. The morning light is still soft, but you could use your sunglasses right about now when it comes to Yu’s thousand-watt smile. “We’re friends, Senpai?”

“I’d like to think so. You let me use your given name.” You hesitate, suddenly struck by self-consciousness. “Am I wrong?”

“No! I mean, if you consider me a friend then I consider you one, too! I just didn’t want to assume. Who doesn’t dream of being friends with their cool upperclassmen?”

You chuckle softly. “Isn’t Suguru the cool one?”

“You’re cool, too!” You raise a skeptical brow. He rubs the back of his neck, sheepish. “Okay, Geto is cooler, but you’re the nicest! Don’t tell Ieiri, though, please!” You won’t betray your junior like that, but Shoko definitely would probably appreciate that assessment. “I’d love to be casual enough with everyone to be on given name basis.”

“You definitely could. Suguru, Satoru, and Shoko don’t care about that kind of thing. If they were easily offended, they wouldn’t stick around people as rude as Satoru and I are,” you explain with a little smile.

He drops down next to you on the bench, looking thoughtful. “Maybe when Nanamin and I graduate, I’ll feel comfortable enough to be that familiar with them.” He sighs too loudly to not be dramatic. “I was worried about taking over for Nanamin on this because I know they can look down on people with no sorcery in their family, but I don’t know why I was. I swear that your power works on humans, too. You’re so calming, y’know?”

It was meant to be a joke, you know, but there’s still a brief moment of pure panic. You haven’t been doing that, have you? It’s a question you ask yourself before quickly answering with a resolute no. Definitely not. Just trying to sense someone’s emotions, as unintentional as it was with Satoru, had you struggling. Controlling someone against their will had you on the verge of death with a brain bleed. You’re terrified by how fast your technique is evolving, yes, but it’s not there. Nowhere near there. You doubt it will ever be to the point where you’re passively influencing people.

“I just want to do my best to help,” you confess. Even if it feels like you’re not doing much of that these days.

“So do I!” Yu declares so enthusiastically and loudly that it echoes. He winces at his own volume and flushes. “Sorry,” he quickly apologizes, but you wave it off. You’re used to loud voices because of Satoru. “But y’know, you ignored me when I said that you look really tired.”

Well, you didn’t mean to, but you’re uncomfortable that he’s bringing it back up. “Don’t worry about me. I haven’t been sleeping the greatest, but I’ll be fine.”

“Hmm, are you sure about that?” Suddenly, he becomes uncharacteristically serious. “I know this is hard work. We see the worst of the world. You and me, we understand that our friends can get lost in all that darkness, so we try to stay bright for them. But we can’t do that if we don’t take care of ourselves.” He smiles, then. Softly and fondly. “My mom understood that when I said I wanted to enroll in school here. She wants to hear about my day, no matter how bad what I see is. She wants to help me carry the burden.”

“It’s hard to believe there are non-sorcerer parents who believe in cursed spirits,” you mumble more to yourself than him. “You have an amazing mother, Yu. I’m jealous.”

He preens, as he should. “My dad listens, too!” He blinks, laughs nervously, and then tries to humble himself quickly after. “It took them a while to accept it, though. But when both your children can see these invisible things, it becomes a little harder to deny. I think they still were kinda in denial until Sensei came and confirmed it all.”

“Still…the fact that they’re willing to hear the details…”

“My mom told me that she tells herself that it’s like I’m going to school to become a medical examiner. Eh, my dad was a real delinquent in high school before he got his act together. He was in a gang. It’s not as bad as what I see, but he can handle the nastier things that I can’t hold in anymore.”

As the manager pulls up to the curb, here to pick you both up for the trip to the Zen’in compound, Yu passes you one of the three onigiri he brought with him. He stands up, interrupting your incoming protest, and grins down at you. “Don’t worry! I know you forget to eat in the mornings a lot, so I made an extra! Just like I know you’re tired but won’t lean on my shoulder unless I say it’s okay!”

One day, you hope that you can meet Yu’s parents, only to tell them how great a job they did in raising a son.

As you’ve come to learn about these long-established clans, they meet you with open hostility. To them, you are not only an outsider, but an extension of headquarters’ will. Despite the fact that there is a Kamo and Zen’in on the council, they are bound by Tengen’s authority. Gakuganji confirmed, after reprimanding you on your manners with the Kamo, that Tengen was the one who wanted to test your abilities. At some point, when you’re done with the Zen’in, he’ll want to meet with you. It’s a terrifying prospect.

Anyway, the leader of the Zen’in clan is not the higher-up that you’d been speaking with. The man that briefly shows his face to you and Yu is graying, has an insanely weirdly styled mustache, and holds a gourd while stinking of alcohol. He passes out as soon as he sprawls out across from you two. Yu is the one to go try and find someone to talk to since the leader—Naobito, the manager told you—is snoring away.

Two people soon walk into the room, followed by Yu. You’ve never seen Yu have to force a smile before, but there’s a first time for everything. You’ve always been under the belief that Yu is an excellent judge of character, so when he finds it hard to like someone, your hackles are immediately raised. Then again, the horror stories that you’ve heard about this clan, you didn’t really need Yu’s opinion, anyway.

A middle-aged man briefly glances at Naobito with a disgusted curl of the lip before turning his terrifying gaze on you. The sclera of his eyes is pitch black. You refuse to even try to make eye contact. They’d probably appreciate that, anyway, since they think a woman’s place is beneath a man. The other person with him is someone that’s actually close to your age. His hair is dyed blonde at the top of his head while his roots are a dark, dark green.

“I am Zen’in Ogi, younger brother of Naobito,” the older man introduces with no small amount of loathing. “Naoya—”

The one that’s your age—Naoya—hasn’t stopped moving toward you. When he’s directly in front of you, he tilts his head to the side, scrutinizing you. “You should smile more.”

You tilt to the side, focusing on Ogi. “Thank you for hosting us.”

“Oi.” Naoya nudges you with his tabi. It takes everything in you not to lash out or flinch away. You know a bully when you see one and they revel in seeing that their antics are affecting their target. “I’m next in line for head of the clan, y’know. You should be talking to me about this stuff.”

“You’re not of age yet.” You are a child, you’re silently saying. This is an assumption, of course, but Satoru did mention there being someone in the Zen’in clan that bothers him at the annual Big Three meetup. It’s supposedly to keep the peace, but it’s just a way to show off the next generation’s strength, Satoru says. A pissing contest. “You’re more than welcome to sit and listen as I speak with Mister Ogi.”

“You don’t need to be such a bitch,” Naoya scolds haughtily. “Especially when I’ll be the one escorting you around.”

You haven’t looked away from Ogi. You watch his cheek twitch, as if he’s holding back from laughing. Clan dynamics are just so…odd. To enjoy the embarrassment of another simply because you’re not next in line. Maybe you should’ve simply smiled and played along because Ogi will probably stick Naoya with you to keep up the flustering of his nephew.

Trying to dodge a day with this spoiled brat, you politely inform Ogi, “I would be more than happy to wait if you’re both too busy.”

“Seeing as Naobito is…indisposed—” is that what they’re calling being blackout drunk? “We have nothing pressing anymore, so Naoya can see to you. It would do him good to revisit our cursed object collection seeing as it’ll be his to worry about when he’s clan head.” Ogi pulls something out of his yukata. A key. “Naoya, keep them away from the Disciplinary Pit. You’re responsible for their safety. We can’t have any incidents potentially impacting our seat at headquarters.”

Naoya scoffs unhappily.

It might be the only time that you’ll ever agree with this brat.

Zen’in Naoya is insistent on pestering you.

To your great misfortune, no one educated Naoya on the purpose of your visit. So, he uses that as an opening to throw question after question at you while peppering in his annoying commentary. As much as you care for Yu, if he asks to go to lunch after this, you might actually cry. You’ve been here a little over an hour and have a headache. You’re teetering on the verge of losing your temper and getting yourself in trouble.

“Why are a couple of students here, anyway?”

“To examine the seals of your cursed objects and strengthen them if they’re too weak.”

“What? Are you training to be one of those managers or whatever?” Naoya laughs obnoxiously. “Gross.”

“I’m a sorcerer,” you correct.

“One of the strongest at school!” Yu adds on your behalf.

Naoya, in front of you both as he leads you across the compound, glances over his shoulder to eye you skeptically. If their clan looks down so harshly on women, it wouldn’t be that far a stretch to assume that he doesn’t think your capable of strength. “What kind of technique do you have?”

“Pacification and control, to an extent,” you answer.

He raises a brow. “Like that Geto guy that got assigned Special Grade with Gojo?”

The mention of Satoru and Suguru makes you bristle, of course. It’s a protective instinct, you guess. “No. I can hide myself from cursed spirits. I keep them calm. If they’re weak enough, I can suggest things to them.” Before he can ask, you go ahead and answer what you expect his next question will be. “Headquarters considers me an expert on cursed spirits. They thought it would be beneficial for me to also learn about seals. I’m here on their orders.”

“Sounds like you’re a knockoff of that Geto kid, then.”

The jab has you gritting your teeth.

You have to admit, that’s a new insult. People have accused you of holding him back, being an annoying burr in his side that just won’t leave. No one has ever said that you’re a weaker version of him, though. You’re not sure why it’s slowly starting to get under your skin. Maybe it’s an insult to your usefulness—something that you’re already incredibly insecure about. And you hate that you’re genuinely thinking about this now.

“Are we almost there?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Naoya is, blessedly, silent for the rest of the trek. You reach the end of the dark staircase that you assumed was to take you underground. It’s a large stone chamber with tile flooring. As soon as you step fully into the room, a massive wave of cursed energy washes over you. Yu freezes, breath hitching, eyes widening. It’s not that intimidating, is it? There’s quite the number of spirits somewhere down here, yes, but they’re all Grade 2 or lower.

You’re honestly more irritated than anything by the sheer arrogance and stupidity of this clan. “You have cursed objects…near all these cursed spirits?” The chamber diverges. Ahead, there is a giant room that has ropes across the opening. Ropes, you note, that have weak seals attached to them.

Naoya waves you off. “They won’t break through that seal.”

“Having cursed objects so close only makes them more agitated,” you educate, though you know that he’s probably already aware of that fact. “The more agitated they are, the more they batter against that barrier and weaken it. Why do you even have spirits on your compound?”

He sticks a finger in his ear, as if your nagging is nothing but an itch in his ear. “Didn’t you hear my uncle? It’s a pit for training and discipline. We like agitating them, obviously. That makes the pit more effective.”

The Kamo and Gojo had their own collection of spirits. Most people from the clans aren’t like Satoru. Homeschooling in Japan isn’t allowed until high school, so there’s a special private school that’s in the know of jujutsu and works with the headquarters and the government. That school in Kyoto is where most children of the clans go until high school where they head back to their clans to be trained intensely.

Still, the spirits that the Kamo and Gojo had weren’t nearly as strong. Satoru said that the people in his clan go out in the field to find the strong spirits because they understand that there are vulnerable people on their compounds. How they feel about those vulnerable people might horrify you, but they aren’t actively putting the lives of everyone in their compounds in danger every single second like the Zen’in clan is.

What the hell is wrong with these people?

“I’ll be reinforcing those seals, too,” you force out through gritted teeth.

Naoya simply shrugs before heading in the opposite direction of the pit where there’s a hall. At the end of it is a massive door, a bunch of seals lining the door that’s locked with a basic chain and padlock. Is jujutsu society built on nothing but a crumbling infrastructure? Are they all so arrogant and complacent that they assume it’ll all be fine until it’s just not anymore? Then again, why wouldn’t they be when they have bodies to throw at their problems?

What are you even doing here anymore?

Increasingly more and more, you wonder what would’ve happened to you if you stayed behind in the village. Who knows how long you’d be under the thumb of your overprotective yet distant mother and bitter father. You’d fumble your way through some job in the town or a nearby one, too poor for college and probably getting talked out of it by your mother, anyway. Which would be a better life? It seems like both paths leads to you being a simple cog in a broken machine.

“Here, Senpai,” Yu whispers as he passes you the cage with the fly heads. “I think it might be better for me to wait outside.”

“No.” You glare at Naoya. “It’s safer to be in here.”

Naoya rolls his eyes. “Calm down. It’s not that big a deal. Besides, if you were a competent sorcerer, you could easily handle all those spirits by yourself.”

“Would you like to keep watch, then?”

He sniffs. “No thanks. I want to see what you can do.”

“I work better in silence.”

Naoya smiles beatifically. “I’ll be as quiet as a mouse.”

Seeing as this is his home, there’s nothing you can do about his presence. This is seriously throwing off the routine you’ve created with this assignment which only aggravates you further. But you move your focus to watching the fly heads, gauging their reactions as you walk amongst the shelves, holding the cage to each object. You’re even irritated with the fly heads, impatient at their slow reaction times when you already know which seals are weakest.

Naoya, shockingly, is relatively quiet. But, because he’s insistent on being a pest, he hangs over your shoulder. Yu is a good friend, knowing how you work, and stands back by the door. There aren’t many objects that require a fresh seal—less than the Kamo and Gojo which is as much credit as you’ll give this clan. If you had to guess as to why that is, they have more people in their clan so there are more people to assign this task. After all, this is a super traditional clan that believes in…sowing their oats as much as humanly possible.

The biggest task today will be that rope along the pit. If you’re honest, you want to be stubborn and ignore it. You don’t want to fuel this barbaric practice. If you don’t, though, the seal will continue to degrade. Your pettiness could cost many lives if these spirits ever escaped. You could leave it to the clan. Write a scathing review of what you saw. You doubt the higher-ups will do much about it, though. The Zen’in would probably call it an exercise and just let it break.

“Mind if I give you a piece of advice?” Naoya drawls as you’re scribbling some notes for your final report to hand in to the higher-ups. You ignore him because he’ll give you his advice whether you want it or not. Some people just love the sound of their own voice. “If you want a man, you need to smile more.” You pointedly deepen your frown. Yu hides his laugh behind a cough. Naoya flushes in chagrin. “What’s your problem with me, huh? I’m trying to give you advice.”

“Marriage is not a priority for me. I’m too young for that.”

“Oh, c’mon. Marriage is the only thing normal girls are thinking about for all their lives.”

“Yes, because sorcerers are such normal people.” You can’t help the sarcasm now. Your patience has finally been pushed to the limit. “So, again, that is not a priority for me right now or in the foreseeable future.”

He hums. “Maybe you should think harder about it. You never know when an offer for marriage might come your way. You’re sort of plain, sure, and you definitely have no pedigree. Still, you have a decent ability. Like I said, Geto Suguru knockoff. Our clan is always looking for fresh talent to be passed along to the next generation when it comes to women.”

The thought of marrying into this clan makes you gag. You do it right in front of Naoya’s face, unable to control yourself, and he sputters in outrage. Yu immediately leaps into action, putting himself between you and Naoya.

With his back to you, he faces Naoya with squared shoulders and a voice that’s low and dangerous. “Stop criticizing my senpai.”

Naoya’s feet spread slightly, as if preparing to take a battle stance. “Oh? What are you gonna do about it, peasant?” Peasant? A lame insult. Are you in the Heian era or what? “You look like you’ve got nothing going on in that head of yours, so let me lay it out for you and your senpai in simple terms. It’s the highest honor to even be a consideration in the running of the next Zen’in clan head’s wife.”

Him? Naoya was suggesting a proposal from him? Oh, you feel nauseous. You feel so disturbed that the fly heads fluttering around in the cage come to a dead stop and watch you intently, having been unintentionally put under your influence. Right. So, you should calm down. Seems like an enormous task at the moment. Just a little longer, you desperately remind yourself. You’ll say your piece to Naoya and move on.

You gently nudge Yu out of the way so that Naoya can see the radiance and superiority in your smile. Suguru would be proud if he saw it. “I was under the impression that the jujutsu world prized strength above all else. Was that wrong?” You tilt your head, mocking in your curiosity. “There would be more honor in being Gojo Satoru’s whore than there would ever be in becoming the wife of a Zen’in.”

It has the desired effect. You imagine that heads and heirs of the Kamo and Zen’in clans have quite the complex when it comes to Satoru who, for all intents and purposes, carries the Gojo clan on his back. One could argue the entire jujutsu world, but that’s a conversation for another time.

Naoya, with his face red and twisted into an ugly snarl and ears practically blowing steam, is interrupted before he can start throwing a temper tantrum.

A scream.

No, two of them.

Both you and Yu are on the move immediately, leaving behind Naoya’s shouted, “Oi!”

There are children down here. Two little girls from the sound of it. You can hear them begging for their father. Even worse, they must be non-sorcerer children because you only feel the muted presence of all those cursed spirits in the pit, Yu, Naoya, and someone else. It’s that man, Ogi. Thank goodness that someone has a heart or some sense, at least. He must be coming to get the children that ran down here. You’ll still rush to help, of course. You can calm the spirits down—

As you break away from the hallway, the horror of what you see sends you to a screeching halt. Yu gasps, visibly shaken and outraged at the same time. Because, ahead of you, is Ogi, yes. But he is not helping the two little girls who slipped down here, no, no. He has each one tucked under his arm, overpowering the twin girls’ frantic struggles to get away from the fucking pit with cursed spirits. They’re screaming and begging for their father…to stop from doing what he’s about to do.

“Stop!” Yu screeches, angrier than you have ever seen him before. Then, ruder than you’ve ever heard him be, he goes on to ask, “What the hell do you think you’re doing, you senile geezer?!”

Ogi doesn’t hesitate. Not even a bit. As soon as he’s at the top of the staircase that leads down to the pit, he roughly tosses both the twins down it, right into the belly of the beast. You move, as deadly serious at the older man, dead set on getting those little girls out of there. Ogi turns to face you, hand reaching for the handle of his katana.

“Stand down,” he barks. “These are my children, and I’ll punish them as I see fit.” He actually takes a stance. Prepared to cut you and Yu down to continue this cruel abuse disguised as parenting. “Strangers will not be allowed to interfere in clan business. The higher-ups won’t protect you.”

You think when you heard my children, that’s when you snapped. It’s a moment of immense pressure in your skull, of ringing in your ears, of blood slipping down from your nose across the cupid’s bow of your top lip. Maybe the reason that you don’t pass out immediately is because it’s only to make Ogi misstep when he swings his katana at you. It smacks against the tile, the sound reverberating, and you sidestep him to rush into the pit.

It’s too late.

Or maybe you spent too much mental energy on making Ogi stop that you don’t have enough time to reattune your focus to quell the cursed spirits in the pit. The weaker spirits hesitate, but there’s one—Grade 2, bordering on Grade 1. It raises an arm, claws poised to slash. Only one of the girls reacts, throwing herself in front of her sister that’s looking around wildly because she must not be able to see the spirits that her sister has barely enough cursed energy to do.

Again, it’s too late to stop the blow, but you make it in time to be the one to take it. You leap at the girls, blanketing their small bodies with yours just as the claws come down. It burns. It burns. And the only reason that you’re conscious, that you’re alive is because Yu was right behind you and managed to knock the spirit off balance enough to weaken the blow.

Your body, uncaring of limits when it’s now on the brink of death, finds the energy to send a surge of cursed energy throughout the room. Every single spirit, even the one with blood dripping from its claws, is lulled to stillness by your pacification. Kill yourself, your body screams.

“Cover…” Your nails scrape against the tile before you clench your fists. “Cover…your…your ears,” you shakily demand of the girl that can see the cursed spirits.

Children shouldn’t have to hear the gore that’s about to ensue.

Slowly, you float back to consciousness while wondering when you even passed out.

You’re kind of surprised that you’re even awake right now. Because you’re sprawled out on your belly on a futon, naked down to your waist but not all that exposed since bandages are wrapped all around your upper torso. Your stomach and breasts are sore, an indication that you’ve been in this position for a long time now. Still, as uncaring about your comfort as they were, the Zen’in didn’t let you die.

Ha. So much for that old man’s warning that you wouldn’t be protected.

Then again, maybe the Zen’in don’t want to deal with the rage of Gojo Satoru.

Speaking of rage…

“Suguru,” you hoarsely call out to the dark presence that you sense looming in the corner of the room. Just a tilt to the side has pain racing across your body, so you can’t turn to see where he’s at, but you feel him. His cursed energy is burning. “Stop with that. You’ll scare everyone.”

“It’s the least they deserve,” Suguru spits.

With how furious he feels and sounds, you expect him to stay where he is. Brooding. But he doesn’t. You hear the shift of fabric before the soft padding of his feet against the tatami. He does look the picture of rage with his eyes, burning bright. His jaw is clenched, along with his fists that he puts on his thighs when he kneels down next to you. If someone other than you were here, it might be intimidating.

It is you, though, and it’s all undermined with Tamamo-no-Mae floating behind him. Her cursed energy is familiar, almost like a comfort now. He’s had her since that field trip to Osorezan. When one of her fox tails flops down from underneath her jūnihitoe, she strokes your cheek with it, and you giggle. And, like always, fox hair gets in your mouth.

“Put her away. Her toes gross me out,” you breathe out, trying to bring some levity to the situation before you start trying to spit out the fox hair without moving your hand. You think it’ll hurt too much to move your arms. “I can’t believe you pulled out a Special Grade for the Zen’in.”

“I don’t trust them.” Finally, his expression softens when his gaze drops down to you. He reaches down to put his hand on the side of your face. “How are you?”

“Hurts,” you admit.

“I know,” he croons sympathetically as he strokes your cheek. “Of all the times for Shoko to be away,” he sighs. “She won’t be here until the day after tomorrow. Satoru threatened to end the mission early, but Shoko talked him out of it. She spoke with the Zen’in that treated you. If you had a brain bleed, you’d already be dead. I sent her some photos of your back, too. You’ll be okay to wait. There’s just going to be scarring.”

“As if I care about that,” you mumble tiredly as your eyes slip close. “Can we go home?”

“Of course.” Suguru hunches over to press a kiss against your forehead. You don’t have it in you to be shy. “I’ll try not to have the spirit move you too much, but I’m sorry in advanced if it hurts you.”

“‘s okay. Sorry for the trouble.”

“Rest now.”

Somehow, you manage not to cry from the pain, but it’s a definite struggle. The worst part is when you arrive at the barrier around campus and Suguru has to carry you in his arms from there. Thankfully, the barrier is right at the top of the staircase, so you’re not jostled as much on the back of a manta ray as you would’ve been if Suguru carried you all the way up them. By the time he makes it to your room, though, your stitches have re-opened.

“You’re going to take a shower with me?” Now you have a little more mental energy to feel flustered.

Suguru is kneeled down in front of you, having carried you to the locker room where he’s now slipping your shoes off. “I know you. The blood dried on your back is bothering you, isn’t it? You’re not going to be able to sleep with it on your skin.” You look away, trying not to pout because he’s totally right and you kind of hate it. Above all else, it makes you feel special, but you also hate it. “We’ve had sex before,” he reminds you. “If you’re really uncomfortable with it then we can wait for Shoko.”

“No, I don’t want to wait for her.” Your cheeks puff out, so, yeah, you’re definitely pouting now. “I…us showering together…it doesn’t bother me that much. It’s just…I hate putting you out. You…you don’t have to dote on me like…this…” You motion to where his hands are curled around the waistband of your leggings. Despite your protest, you still lift your hips up to let him slide your leggings off. “I bet you didn’t do this with Satoru.”

“I did take care of him as much as he’d let me, actually.” Oh. “And I washed his back, too.” Suguru chuckles softly. “In all our years together, has it ever crossed your mind that I like taking care of you?”

No, honestly. That thought has never crossed your mind. “Help me undress,” you mumble embarrassedly. “Jeez, you didn’t need to lay it on so thick. I get it, I get it.”

“It’s cute when you get all shy,” he teases. “You act exactly like Satoru did.”

“Guess you have a type then,” you grouse.

He laughs at that. An actual laugh. And his face is soft, welcoming. “I guess I do, don’t I?”

Suguru had the hindsight to put you in his blazer before you left the Zen’in compound. It’s easy to take off without aggravating your stitches further. But there’s no stopping the sting of the water hitting the slashes across your back. Suguru rubs your shoulder soothingly as you try to force your body to relax. Everything is sore. The antiseptic meant to numb the area that the Zen’in medic was magnanimous enough to give you has faded. You duck your head, focusing on the water at your feet that slowly bleeds to pink to try and forget the pain.

Gently, Suguru starts to wash your back, exactly like he said he would. There’s no getting around the fact that the cloth will brush against your tender stitches. You grit your teeth in preparation and clutch at his hand still on your shoulder. As he gets to work, he starts up a conversation because he understands that keeping your mind off things will help.

“Will you tell me what happened?”

“Yu didn’t say?”

“No. Sensei pulled him in to talk with Gakuganji and some of the Zen’in. I think they went back to school ahead of us. The clans can pretend they’re better than the rest of us, but they still answer to headquarters. So, there might be some trouble for the Zen’in since you were technically there on orders.”

“Good.” He hums in question at your scathing remark. “They have a pit, you know. It’s filled with cursed spirits. The one that hurt me was nearly a Grade 1. They call it the Disciplinary Pit. I knew they were traditional but that…that’s barbaric.” The other hand that isn’t clutching Suguru is balled into a fist at your side. “And what was that old bastard going to do? He was going to throw children in there. They couldn’t have been more than…I don’t know. Six? And…and they were non-sorcerers!”

Suguru’s hand stops suddenly. The one gripping your shoulder goes unbearably tight. Against your back, you feel the other curl into a ball. “Non-sorcerers did this to you?”

Your brows furrow. Putting the pain aside, you look over your shoulder, utterly confused about where he got that idea from. “Did you space out just now or…?” Why does he look almost as angry as he did in the Zen’in compound? “Are you okay?” Why do you feel so…uneasy right now? “I said that old man—”

“Were those his children?”

“Yes? I don’t know what that has to do with anything, though. Did you not hear me when I said the pit was full of cursed spirits?”

“I heard, but…” He takes a deep breath, exhales, in that way he does when he’s trying to quell his temper. “Are you sure you didn’t overreact? I doubt he would’ve let them get hurt. You’re making it sound like he was just disciplining his children—”

“Overreacting,” you repeat blankly.

He sighs your name, irritated again. “Stop it. I can already tell you’re taking it the wrong way. We know how you are—”

Slowly, you force Suguru’s hand away from your shoulder, continuing to stare at him like he’s grown another head. He may as well have. You turn around, hoping that he’ll backtrack in the time it takes you to face him, but he seems to mentally double down because he squares his jaw when your eyes meet his. There’s…an energy festering around him. You don’t like it. It’s so angry.

But you are as equally angry, so you don’t try to appease him. You don’t try to calm things down. Instead, you lash out, seeking to antagonize. “Am I speaking a different language right now?”

Suguru picks up on your hostility, his own hackles raising once again. “You acted rashly. You almost died…and for what? Did you even ask what they did?”

This conversation has been slipping under your skin, touching a nerve that makes it hard to ignore. You don’t understand why until you unthinkingly snap, “Should I have asked your parents what you did before I went to the teachers about your bruises?”

He barks out a laugh. Dark. Nasty. Bitter. “Maybe you should have. Maybe then my arm wouldn’t have gotten broken because of you.”

The words are worse than a gut punch. Worse than how it felt when that curse’s claws sunk into your skin. You knew. In the back of your mind, logically, you knew that the social worker was called because of you and the broken arm he showed up at school with was because of you, too. But…the hurt of him saying that is so visceral.

Still, you must not look hurt enough because Suguru keeps going. “Are you ever going to stop and think before trying to help someone? Haven’t you hurt enough people?”

Dread, ice cold, rushes through your veins, dousing the fire of anger. You’re panicked by the things welling up inside the center of your chest. You blurt, “Leave.”

Suguru shakes his head. He sighs, the edge leaving his features. How dare he look so sympathetic. Like…like he pities you for not having figured this truth out sooner. Just more salt rubbed on this wound he dealt. For a moment, you’re reminded of your mother and the pity she has for her simple daughter. This is not your Suguru. Not anymore. You don’t know who this is and that scares you.

He reaches out a hand, whispering your name, but you flinch away.

“Leave!”  

The order is screeched so loud that your voice cracks. It’s a volume that you didn’t think yourself capable of, let alone Suguru having heard out of you before. The noise startles him, and he jerks away. The two of you stare at each other, confused about the strangers you’ve become. You’re both shaken.

Suguru tries again, blinking the confusion away as he repeats your name and reaches out.

Trying to hide away from him, you try to cover yourself while backing away. You latch onto that demand because it’s all you can do. “Leave!” You don’t want him to see you collapse in on yourself. He won’t bring you peace. He’ll only make it worse. You scream again, “Leave!”

Scream and scream and scream…

Until, finally, looking like a wounded animal, he leaves.

It takes a long, long time for you to leave the shower room.

As unsanitary as it is, you’d sat down, butt ass naked, in the middle of the showers, sobbing and trying to calm yourself down. If you could, you’d have curled up right there and gone to sleep, but you gain enough comprehension back to know that would be a stupid idea as your emotions subside.

Still sensitive, still raw, you walk out to the locker room and see your clothes on the bench. The clothes that Suguru picked out for you. Along with the fresh bandages that he was planning to help you with. You’ll have to do that yourself now. Somehow. It pisses you off. Even when you throw the clothes to the floor in anger, you realize that you’re more upset at yourself than him. It isn’t his fault that you’re so helpless.

Halfway to your room, in nothing but your towel, you sense Yu’s cursed energy growing closer. You only have enough time to finish waddling to your room, slam the door behind you, and put on panties and shorts before he’s knocking on your door. The sound has you gritting your teeth in annoyance.

“Senpai,” he calls out through the door. His voice is alarmed. “Senpai, there’s blood on the floor!”

Damn it. “I just pulled at the stitches. It’s okay. I’ll handle it.”

“But…aren’t those stitches on your back? Can you reach them?”

“I’ll manage,” you snarl loudly.

On the other side of the door, there’s a pause. Your anger is getting misplaced. If you don’t calm down, you might lose a friend today. Maybe more than one. Who the fuck knows where you and Suguru stand right now. Fuck, you want to dig your teeth into something and tear. You should not be around another person anymore today.

“Okay! I’m coming in, so please cover up!” Yu warns. The doorknob rattles once before he realizes, “Um. Right. You might not be decent and probably need time to get dressed. Let me know when you’re ready. I won’t leave until you do!”

Oh, well, it seems that his stubbornness has knocked your temper loose. Or you accept that you’re too exhausted to wait him out, so there’s also no use in staying mad. Taking a deep breath, you ready yourself. You grab the chair from your desk, spin it around the opposite way, and sit with your chest against the backrest. You keep your damp towel pressed tight to your chest.

“Go ahead,” you call out to him tiredly.

“Thank you!”

“Why are you thanking me?” You tilt your head forward, knocking it against the edge of the chair. “Sorry for making you clean up my mess.” From the position of your head, you can see the splotches of red on your towel. “Literally,” you add under your breath because you know Yu’s going to offer to clean up all the blood.

Yu shuffles forward. Hearing the clutter coming from the direction of your desk means he’s gathering up the first-aid kit. “How many times have you patched me and Nanamin up? Isn’t it time for me to return the favor?”

“I’m the senpai here.”

“What did we talk about this morning?”

Right. Take care of yourself. Lean on others. Yu doesn’t understand that if you lean too much on someone else, you quickly become a burden. No. You can’t let your mind go there right now. “Didn’t you take care of me enough when you saved my life today?”

“Eh? What are you talking about? I distracted it long enough for you to finish them off. All of them. That geezer’s reaction when they all killed themselves was funny, now that I know you’re safe and can think about it.” You both share a laugh at that asshole, Ogi’s, expense. “They’re sending you on a mission with us,” he admits after a minute of silence.

“Punishment for overstepping?”

Yu doesn’t say it is, but it is. You know how these things go. “Purely research!” Yu tries to soften the blow. “We’ll make sure you don’t lift a finger! You won’t even have to think that hard! We can make it a vacation.” Yeah, right. You’re pretty sure if an auxiliary manager saw you having fun with Yu and Kento, you’d be sent away again on another mission for the penalty of simply enjoying life. “And if you don’t feel like shopping for souvenirs, I’ll do it for you. We won’t tell anyone.”

“Sure, Yu. That sounds good.”

Yu’s voice is so unbearably soft when he whispers, “You need rest, too, Senpai.” His kindness brings tears to your eyes. You’re glad that your head is down so that you can’t embarrass yourself any further today. “I’ll make sure you get some. Just leave it to me, okay?”

“Okay.” Emotion clogs up your throat, but you manage a weak, “Thank you.”

***

[06:55] You didn’t see me before you left.

[06:56] You saw Satoru. Not me.

[06:58] Never mind. I get why.

[07:32] I went too far. I was cruel. I don’t blame you for that. Never have. You were the only person that tried to help me. I’ll never forget that. I’ll always be grateful. What I said was me looking for things to say to hurt you. I almost lost you and didn’t know how to deal with that. It didn’t seem like you cared about your own life. I lashed out.

[09:13] I’m sorry. I’ve been under a lot of stress. I can’t eat or sleep. It’s no excuse. I’m sorry. I’ll say it as much as you need me to. I can’t lose you. I can’t. You’re all I have left.

[11:29] Squid. Please. Say something. Anything. I’m sorry.

[13:10] I know you’re angry. But I’m worried. No one has heard from you. Haibara won’t answer. Neither will Nanami.

[13:11] Just a simple reply. A frowny face. Anything at all. Let me know you’re seeing this.

[14:04] Squid?

[14:05[ Please.

[16:43] Are you safe?

[16:44] Is what I’m hearing true?

[16:45] Be safe. Please. Be safe.

[16:46] I’m on the way.

***

It’s a disgustingly humid September night, technically, but right now, you’re cold.

And all you wanted was to be like them.

Foolishly, you told yourself that if they could take a mission three weeks after they faced death, why couldn’t you? It’s not like you almost died. The two weeks that Sensei pushed for you to have off were generous enough. Besides, you understand it now, how much of a hindrance you actually were when you fought to keep them out of the field.

You need this.

You can’t stand to be alone with your mind.

But you weren’t ready. Just the sight of the small, dilapidated shrine has blood splattering across your memories. You break out into a cold sweat. There’s a war inside your mind. This isn’t like two weeks ago—that’s what you try to remind yourself. Push through it. A shrine doesn’t automatically equal an ubusunagami spirit. Where is Suguru? You’re sick to your stomach. Why did you split up? Have you learned nothing? Are you going to be too late to save a life again?

Stop, you plead to your body. You clench your trembling fists. You have to do this. The world has to spin on. It doesn’t care about a stupid girl who made the wrong call and killed a boy. This work is both your punishment and atonement. You’ll let them keep tugging at the leash around your neck until it’s a noose because that’s what you deserve.

The oppressive weight of the Grade 1’s cursed energy that’s been haunting these woods shifts. With nothing but the moon and some flashlights, it’s easy to follow after the explosion of blue light. You’re dazed over the fact that you missed everything that happened. Was there even a fluctuation? A fight? Is Suguru just that strong that he can absorb a Grade 1 in the dead of night like it’s nothing?

As you break into the clearing where he is, you ask, “You took care of it?” Like the answer isn’t obviously sliding down his throat, glowing eerily through the delicate skin of his neck. “Why didn’t you come find me? I wasn’t far.”

Suguru glances away after it’s swallowed. Not even a wince anymore. “It’s fine.”

This irritates you. Another little thing tonight that he’s done. Reminding you incessantly that you could stay behind with the auxiliary manager, trying to force food down your throat when you’re clearly not hungry, touching the small of your back to guide you, hovering. Now, he does this.

The only reason that you keep your mouth shut is because you know he cares. He’s a good person, like everyone else. They don’t blame you and treat you like glass, like you’re a victim. You pinch the bridge of your nose, trying to breathe. You tell yourself it’s the humidity making your chest tight.

With the other hand, you wave your sketchbook. “Are you serious? It was Grade 1. I’m supposed to record that.”

“I’ll let you sketch it later.”

“It’s pointless now,” you mutter. “Don’t even bother.”

Suguru scoffs. “Okay. You’re welcome, by the way.”

“Recording them doesn’t only mean drawing pretty pictures. I’m supposed to observe their behavior.”

“You can.”

“You know it isn’t the same when they’re under your control.”

Suguru reaches up to press a thumb to his forehead, meaning he’s getting irritated with you. You resist the urge to do the same, instead tapping your foot impatiently. “It’s your first mission back,” he tries to reason. “I’m sure they’ll be understanding. But if they try to hold imperfect notes against you, I’ll take the blame.”

“I don’t want them to take it easy on me!”

He shakes his head, dismissive. “You shouldn’t have come.”

“I’m not broken.”

“Everything about this goddamn system is broken!” Suguru shouts, making you reel back. The two of you watch each other warily. He shakes his head again, squeezes his eyes shut, takes deep breaths. “Let’s…just go. We’ll deal with this later,” he mutters irritably. “Let’s meet with the contact in the village and use their phone to call the manager.”

“Fine.”

Three wide brown eyes stare at you in terror.

There should be four, but one is swollen shut.

That face is too tiny to be so battered.

Suguru speaks where you cannot. “What is this?”

A man and woman were at the door, frantic and desperate to know where you and Suguru had been. Before you’d even had the chance to explain that their problem was taken care of, they practically shoved you and Suguru toward a shed. It was hard to make out what they were trying to say throughout their panicked and angry babbling. You think there was something about some murderers.

From behind you, your contact in the village answers, “What, you ask? These two are responsible for the latest incidents, right?”

Suguru is back to pressing a thumb to his forehead. Emotions are rising. Yours definitely are. Anger is putting a tremble in your hands again and your head is throbbing. You’re trying to find your voice past the lump in your throat. What the fuck is this? Does no one fucking visit these places before sending a sorcerer out?! A sorcerer wasn’t the only person needed here! A goddamn police officer was!

“No, they’re not,” Suguru answers more calmly than you can.

The man insists, “These two are crazy! They used their mysterious powers to attack the villagers!”

Something about the girls shifting, huddling closer to each other, finally snaps you into action. Full of rage, you shove past the woman to grab the set of keys that you saw near the door. “If you psychos even gave us the chance to talk, you’d know that we got rid of the problem already!”

The couple starts to sputter in outrage, seeing your clear plan to release these girls. Suguru remains unmoving, big body enough of a deterrent to keep the non-sorcerers from lashing out. So, the woman claws at your wrist. “My granddaughter was nearly killed by these two!”

One of the little girls, the one with dirty blonde hair, tries to protest, “That’s because she—”

“Shut up, you monsters!” Out of the corner of your eye, the shadows shift unnaturally. In the flickering of the flame, it’s not too noticeable. Suguru’s shadow raises a hand, pointing, and from the end of that finger comes a little spirit. “Your parents were just as bad,” the woman continues to rave. “I knew we should have killed you when you two were babies!”

It’s okay, Suguru commands the little spirit to whisper. He’s trying to reassure the little girls, to let them know that you’re all one in the same, that they’ll be safe with you. Adrenaline is rushing through your veins. There is a primal instinct to get these girls out of this place. You are all in danger here.

Blocking the entrance of the cell with your body, with every fiber of your being, you swear to the couple, “If you ever try to hurt these children again, I will kill you.” If Suguru will be gentle, then you will flash your teeth. It’s enough to send the man and woman stumbling back. “We’re leaving. If you try to stop us, I will kill you. Do you understand?”

No response. They just book it.

As soon as they’re out the door, you’re a flurry of movement. You tear off your hoodie and snatch Suguru’s blazer from where it’d slipped out of his grasp from the shock. You collapse to your knees in front of the girls, resisting the urge to touch them and check for injuries before you introduce yourself.

“We’re like you,” you explain as gently as you can when you feel so frantic. “We see them. We see you. I’m going to protect you with my life, okay? Are you cold?” They nod fervently. “Put these on. Let me help. Can you walk?” Throughout the process of wrapping them up in something warm, they manage weak affirmations. “Good. Okay. I know the things you’ve been seeing are scary, but Suguru can control them. If you see any of them, don’t be afraid. You never have to be afraid when he’s around.” You look over your shoulder briefly, hoping that directly speaking to him will pull him out of the trance. “Right? Suguru?”

Suguru stares at you blankly, unseeing. Inside him, though, his cursed energy is a frenzy. So big, so uncontrollable that it bleeds out. It’s sharp, like needles pinning down the wings of an insect. You are aggressively thrown back to that day where Satoru rose from the dead, godlike in his power, and how small it made you feel. Prey under the heavy gaze of a predator.

“Suguru is going to protect us all,” you tell yourself and them. High emotions have you sensitive to the cursed energies of others, so that’s why you can feel him so viscerally. It’s scary. You’ve never felt rage like this before—from you or him. It’s the same for you, but you can’t sit here and stew in this. These girls come first now. “Take my hands,” you instruct them as you hold your hands out. “Don’t let go.”

The makeshift prison is, thankfully, on the edge of the village. It wouldn’t be good to parade through the streets. Locking these children up was a collective decision. The faster you can get the fuck out, the better. If you can make it through the woods, to the main road, you can get a signal there, you think. No. No, you’ll just ride the manta ray. You’ll explain everything as soon as you get to Sensei.

“You’re safe now. You don’t have to be scared anymore.” You didn’t realize you were rambling, unconsciously trying to distract them from their fear with your chatter. “There’s a school. Full of people just like us. You’ll get to meet them. There’s my best friend, Shoko. She’ll make you feel better. Her power is to heal. Better than any regular doctor. And there’s our best friend. His name is Satoru. He’s super strong. Just like Suguru. He loves Digimon. He’s got lots of plushies to share with you.”

All these emotions have you feel like you could crawl out of your skin. And Suguru still hasn’t said anything. He’s mechanical in his movements, staying at the back of your little group. As you guide the group, you can pinpoint the opening of rifts, sense the cursed spirits that crawl out. Good. Yes. More protection. Who knows how those monsters are acting right now. They could be rallying the village.

“We’re going to make sure you’re taken care of. You’ll never be in a place like that ever again. I swear, you’re going to be in a place that’s full of love and understanding. Not everyone is like those terrible, terrible people—”

The more protective of the two is the blonde, based solely off that she went with you first. Voice shaking, but trying so hard to be brave, she asks, “They’re not?”

“They are.”

There’s this…snap. So brutal a turn that it hits you like whiplash.

Around you, there is such a sudden stillness that it feels like the very world has its breath held. There’s no veil. But nature senses a storm on the horizon. The eeriness of it is like ice slithering down your spine. You’ve unknowingly come to a stop, slowly turning around to face Suguru. Over his shoulder, a wider rift is opening, and as you stare into the inky darkness, many glowing eyes stare back.

The ground shakes when the Grade 1 clumbers out of the rift. It has to be the one from earlier. The foliage and trees growing on its back are distinct. Along with those eyes. And fangs so long and big that they stick out of the spirit’s mouth. It looms tall, but it doesn’t make you feel near as small as Suguru is right now.

“There are good people,” you protest quietly.

“There are good sorcerers,” he corrects just as lowly. “And where do they end up? In the ground.” Carefully, you nudge the girls further behind you before you step away. This is not a conversation that they need to hear. “When will it be our turn?” Close enough, you see the desperation in his eyes. “How long before it’s your body on a slab?”

“Death is a part of life.” Your fingers seek his out, threading together, trying to comfort him. “And we decided to risk that death coming earlier than everyone else when we left home. We chose to put our lives on the line.”

“But who are we doing this for?!” Suguru yanks his hands away, stretching his arms out, gesturing toward everything. “Animals like these?!”

“There are more good people in this world than bad.”

“If that’s the case, why do curses exist?”

“Suguru, that’s just how things are. It’s the way nature made us.”

“No. Nature made sorcerers better. They made us stronger. Why do we have to put our lives on the line like this for stinking monkeys that keep throwing their shit at us? We hide ourselves away from them, working in the shadows, always being so careful to not disturb their peace of mind, and for what? Is it so they can lock little girls in cages because they’re too scared of the unknown? Or so they can beat me like my fucking father did or constantly belittle and demean you like your parents did all for the sin of not being what they call normal? We don’t deserve this!”

“I know we don’t. No one does.” How can you explain this to him? You understand what he’s saying. Down in your bones, you know where this resentment is coming from. “But while there exists extreme cruelty, there also exists overwhelming kindness. It can’t be all bad. We found happiness, didn’t we?”

“We found it with sorcerers. If we lived in a world where no non-sorcerer existed, there wouldn’t be all this pain!”

“But…that world doesn’t exist. It can’t.”

“Why not?”

You give a sharp, hysterical laugh. “Because you’d have to kill every non-sorcerer living, that’s why. That’s not possible.”

He tilts his head, almost condescending when he sneers, “It’s not?” The cursed spirit behind him gives a rumbling growl, reminding you of its presence, of its threat. Your already racing heart pounds faster as you comprehend his meaning. Surely, he doesn’t mean…

“Suguru, let’s go home,” you plead.

“No.” No? “There is no home for me now. We’ll never be safe or happy until this world is clean. I understand what my true path is now. I know what I need to do now…and I’ll kill anyone that gets in my way.”

The precipice that your world has been standing on the edge of for the last year finally tilts.

Suguru won’t hurt me.

Right now, you’re the only person that can stand close enough to drag him back from the edge. I’ll kill anyone that gets in my way, he threatens, and right now, you believe that. But not me, you know. Therefore, it must be you that saves him. Because he’s falling. He’s going somewhere that you won’t be able to follow. You’re going to lose him. This would be rebirth and this would be death.

Suguru won’t hurt me.

Cursed spirits seem to explode out of him. Too many to count. You know them all. The blossoming promise of an army that the higher-ups were always afraid he could weaponize.

Suguru won’t hurt me.

That Grade 1 shifts. Its maw, hungry for blood, opens wide. It raises an arm, claws sharp and poised at the ready. You know that when it moves, it’s over. The other spirits will follow. This Grade 1 is an extension of Suguru. This is his rage, his loneliness, his agony.

Suguru won’t hurt me.

Eyes, cold and hard as the amethyst they so resemble, stare dead ahead with steel-like resolve. Slowly, he starts to turn his back on you. You have to stop him. You have to keep talking to him. And you reach out a hand to grab at his bicep. Your mouth is in the shape of his mouth. You think…you think that you might say something that sounds like stop.

Suguru won’t hurt me.

Just as your body instinctually knows that you don’t need to pacify his spirits, that he won’t hurt you…his body knows not to hurt you, either…

Suguru won’t hurt me.

…right?

Suguru won’t—

Blood colors your vision. Pain doesn’t even register in your brain. One second, you’re upright, and in the next, the ground is rising up to meet you. Even the resounding thud that your body gives as it slams down does triggers nothing. Sprawled out in the lush green grass, it only really feels numb to you.

No, all your erratic thoughts can seem to focus on is how disgusting this feels. Wet, sticky heat is quickly soaking your white shirt, weighing it down against your skin, making you feel trapped. You might be gasping for air that you can’t seem to get enough of.

Suguru…hurt…

Thoughts are getting scattered in your brain now. The world narrows in, black hedging in at the corner of your vision. You want it off. The shirt. The blood. You stupidly reach a hand up to wipe away the blood. Gore is all you find. Open gaping wounds that start at the crook of your neck and go…you don’t know how far down. You don’t have the strength left to follow the path.

Suguru…hurt…

Oh. There is he above you now. Thank goodness, you think when you see the panic so clear on his face. Emotion…there’s all those emotions that’d been missing. Nothing cold anymore. Thank goodness. His mouth moves. Says your name, maybe. You can’t hear him. You can’t feel it when he presses his hands somewhere on your body, either. Putting pressure on it must not be working. There’s a lot of blood dripping from his hands when he scrambles to pull out his cell phone. Ah. Yeah, your vision is starting to blur. You give up trying to read his lips.

It's a pretty night, all things considered. For as much as you two hated it, it’s beautiful in the countryside. Easier to see the moon and stars. You always tried to reject that reality. After you left for Tokyo, you thought that was it, that you left that all behind for good, that you wouldn’t die in the backwoods.

Guess you were wrong about that.

[helluvabossrewrite45]

I never fully agree with argument that “Via is sheltered”. I can see if she didn’t fully understand how bad the marriage, but then I remember that she responds to her Mother’s violent outbursts as if they were a usual occurrence. She casually steps over the broken vases like she’s done it before; she has a tendency control her own outbursts in a more restrained manner as seen in Seeing Stars and now in Sinmas. To me it implies she’s half aware that her mother does is wrong, but then have some fans—not all—claim that she likes Stella more even though everything in her body language says otherwise. The only reason she finds it easier to get mad at her Dad is like you once said about it being the black sheep method.

I feel honestly bad for this kid. At best she thinks that behaviour in this family is normal. At worst she just feels alone in a situation she on some level knows is messed up. Like she believed or knows that her Dad cares about her, but when it feels like it’s needed most he isn’t there to at least ease her into this transition. I was slightly forgiving at Looloo Land because I thought he was going to tell her in the future. Seeing Stars made me frustrated because why are we standing around in a studio? Because Blitz gets trick into thinking people finally find him funny? To then cutting to his backstory on how adopted Loona? What about the main mission? A small portion of fans thinks she doesn’t change when the writing itself keeps running through the same arc until the consequences finally catch up with the characters. No, let’s blame some characters instead of how the writing likes to use the characters and their growth.

Honestly, the more of the list of Octavia and her coping mechnasms works, the more fascinating she is. She uses music to cope, like you said, but now we’ve seen her escape her family members sights twice now which is interesting. Still would like to know how she knows IMPs address unless she went there during Looloo Land? Also where’s the castle security or a they just on call?

Sorry if this doesn’t make much sense. Sinmas got under my skin and a small portion of fans blaming a teenager is irritating.

It's okay, I understand what your saying and yeah, fans blaming on her is irritating especially when she's a teenager and her father, Stolas, has done much worse (coercion to Blitzo, neglect to Octavia), yet they don't give him the same blame or frame him as a good father with the "oh if only Via realises how he cares for her" which misunderstands why Via even cutted out Stolas to begin with. He prioritised Blitzo over her from Loo loo land to Mastermind where he almost sacrificed himself for Blitzo and only considers Via once his powers get stripped temporarily (Stolas' sacrifice also feels quite icky from it being Blitzo's reason to 'love' Stolas as if sacrifice makes it obligatory for affection) Your insight into how the environment around her causes her to normalise it or feel isolated by it is spot on. When rewatching Loo loo land, I liked that Stolas couldn't easily explain Stella's abuse to her because it felt realistic for an abused parent trying to explain to their kid of how their other parent is abusive, especially when circumstances lead it to becoming more complicated like cheating. This kind of realistic depiction of abuse is unfortunately erased overtime as the show prioritises us on hating stella by making her a one note over-the-top villain instead of depicting an abusive complex villain. You get a good scene of Stella comforting Octavia as a false pretense for her satisfaction in her presumed ex-husband's death, presenting her manipulation. Yet in Sinmas, she is shown to openly cut Octavia from contacting her father and openly laugh and mock him with her brother. The show cannot decide on how to portray Stella, so long as she is framed as unlikeable in every scene shes in for us to sympathise and root for Stolas.

In fact, I argue that due to Stella and Octavia not receiving any depth compared to Stolas as characters despite the plot giving this family's conflict at least some significance is that they aren't their own characters but prompts; prompts that are for Stolas' gains through different lights. Stella was a prompt to make us sympathies with Stolas that would make us excuse his wrongdoings such as cheating because well, Stella is an abuser and she is constantly unlikeable in every scene. Why should we feel bad for her? Stella is apparently meant to be inspired by Beatrice but these characters direction were the main difference. Beatrice was given backstory and depth because she was intended to be a complex character who is abusive. Stella on the other hand, is a prompt whose abusiveness was used to benefit Stolas' character within the narrative.

Octavia is different where she was a prompt to make Stolas likeable. Everytime Octavia is on screen with some significance to the plot, it always involved her problem being primarily her father and the narrative always focused that Stolas loves Via very much, even explicitly pointed out to her in Seeing Stars like Loona. It's only in Sinmas where this direction has shifted to be the same as Stella where she's now used to make us feel sympathy towards Stolas in the loss of his daughter. Frankly her blaming stolas for taking anti-depressants seem like a tactic of some sort to establish what the framwork is suppose to be; Via isn't understandably cutting off her dad for his neglect because it would make the sympathetic framework of stolas not be effective, so they had to use his anti-depressants in order to make Via cutting off her dad seem unreasonable on surface level. "See? Via is blaming stolas for his depression so she's not entirely right in her cutting him out of her life and therefore, you should feel bad for stolas." It's what these fans don't understand, they only look at the conflict through surface level and not view the bigger picture as despite the anti depressants, Via was reasonable in that situation. Stolas had neglected Via, like you pointed out with him in the film studio, his focus is always on Blitzo first and Octavia second. And what makes it more awful is that Via's experiences applies to many people in real life so for the fandom to demonise her entirely for this when you know people who were Octavia with their fathers before makes you think of it in a different light. A more tragic perspective of a fandom, regardless of intention, demonises those people who were like and related to Octavia in that situation while coddling/sympathizing with the fathers that neglected their Octavias.

Her lack of depth despite the little details as well as her background being the tools to create an interesting thorough character highlights the main issue of the series in how despite desiring to be complex within their characters and conflicts, they manage to fail with their character bias for and against certain characters that reduces their complexities to either make you like or dislike these particular characters. Octavia, like the rest of the characters, had potential yet the writers never utilized that to their advantage. The whole series in general is wasted potential that wasn't properly utilized to their advantage.

[meadowfics]

lost island, found love

hwang jun-ho x female!reader

warnings: descriptions of death, guns, angst, i added reader's background that was not in this request but I felt like it could bring jun-ho and reader together! i am not responsible for the content you choose to read.

word count: 4013

you stand in the dimly lit room, the stench of blood and decay thick in the air. the body of the salesman lies slumped against the wall, lifeless, his once smug face frozen in a grimace. your fingers tremble slightly as you lower your gun, the weight of everything crashing down on you.

mr. kim is gone, killed by this salesman who now lies dead in front of you. 

gi-hun’s frantic voice echoes in your memory…his desperation when he begged you to find answers, to bring justice in order to get money. now, with the salesman gone, the trail feels cold.  

you don’t want to be here. not anymore. not with everything else hanging over your head like a storm cloud. hana is missing. your little sister, your only family left in the world. you’ve scoured every corner of the city, turned over every rock, but nothing. no sign of her. she wouldn’t just disappear. not her. not without a word.  

“we don’t have time for this,” a voice cuts through your thoughts, sharp and impatient.  

you glance over your shoulder, your eyes meeting the man who’s been reluctantly dragged into this mess with you..jun-ho. a police officer, driven, stubborn, and entirely too by-the-book for your taste. 

he leans against the doorframe, his expression unreadable.  

“gi-hun’s been taken to the island,” he continues, his tone clipped. 

“those people with the masks, they don’t wait around. if we don’t move fast, we’ll lose the trail.”  

you grit your teeth, your mind warring between two equally impossible choices. find the island where gi-hun is being held, or keep searching for hana. it feels cruel, having to pick one over the other.  

“you think i don’t know that?” you snap, your voice harsher than you intended.  

jun-ho doesn’t flinch. he crosses his arms, his gaze steady and unyielding. 

“then let’s go. unless you’ve got another plan?”  

you hate him a little in that moment. his calmness. his ability to compartmentalize. you can’t do that. not when every step you take feels like a betrayal of your sister. you know he’s right. if you don’t act now, gi-hun’s fate is sealed.  

“fine,” you mutter, shoving past him. 

“but don’t get in my way.”  

he follows without a word, and for a while, the only sounds are your footsteps echoing through the empty streets. the weight of your gun presses against your hip, a constant reminder of what this life has turned you into.  

jun-ho finally breaks the silence. 

“why’d you take this job?”  

the question catches you off guard, and for a moment, you don’t answer.  

“because someone had to,” you say finally, your voice low.

“gi-hun deserved that much after everything he’s been through.”  

jun-ho nods, but you can feel his eyes on you, studying, prying. you don’t offer more. not about mr. kim. not about hana. not about the hollow ache in your chest that refuses to go away.  

the journey ahead feels impossibly long, but you push forward, each step heavier than the last. you don’t know if you’ll ever find the answers you’re looking for.. about gi-hun, about hana, about yourself. but for now, all you can do is keep moving.  

the next morning.. you’re in the small boat with a bunch of your ex-special forces mates.. gently rocking on the light waves, the rhythmic lapping of water against the hull doing little to calm the storm in your mind. 

there is a map spread out on the bench in front of you that feels more like a cruel joke than a guide. you’ve traced every possible route, every last scrap of information gi-hun left behind, but it’s like the island doesn’t exist.  

even though jun-ho insists that the island is a real place, and that he has been there too.

“anything?” jun-ho’s voice breaks through the silence, rough from hours of tension. he’s standing at the bow, one hand resting on the edge, the other gripping his radio.  

you don’t answer immediately, your eyes scanning the coordinates again, hoping something will click. the frustration is mounting. you’re used to solving problems quickly, decisively. in the special forces, there was no room for hesitation or failure. 

now, every passing hour feels like a countdown to losing gi-hun forever.  

“no,” you finally mutter, shoving the map aside. 

“it’s like they’ve erased the damn place off the face of the earth.”  

jun-ho exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. he’s trying to keep it together, but you can see the cracks forming. five days. that’s all the time you have before the trail goes completely cold, and neither of you can afford to waste another second.  

“we’re missing something,” he says, turning to face you. 

“they wouldn’t go through all this trouble just to make the island impossible to find. there has to be a way in. some clue we’re overlooking.”  

you lean back against the bench, your arms crossed tightly over your chest. your mind races through everything you’ve learned so far, piecing together fragments of intel like a puzzle.  

“it’s not just about the location,” you say, more to yourself than to him. 

“they’ve got to have a system. patterns. supply routes. something that gives them away.”  

jun-ho nods, stepping closer. 

“you think we’re being followed?”  

you glance up at him, narrowing your eyes. the thought hadn’t occurred to you until now, but it makes sense. an operation this big wouldn’t just let two random people snooping around go unnoticed.  

“probably,” you admit. 

“which means we’re running out of time faster than we thought.”  

he frowns, his jaw tightening. 

“great. so, we’re sitting ducks out here.”  

you pull your handgun from its holster, checking the magazine out of habit. 

“not exactly. i’m not going down without a fight.”  

jun-ho smirks faintly, though the tension never leaves his eyes. 

“you really are a piece of work, you know that?”  

“and you’re irritating,” you shoot back, sliding the gun back into place.

“guess we make a great team.”  

hours later.. the sun dips lower into the horizon, casting long shadows across the boat’s deck. the waves lap gently against the sides of the boat, though it does little to calm your racing thoughts.  

you glance over at jun-ho, standing near the bow with his hands gripping the edge. the man’s posture is tense, his shoulders squared as if bracing against some invisible weight. 

he hasn’t said much in hours, and you can’t help but notice the way his eyes flick toward the horizon and back, as though searching for something..or avoiding something.  

breaking the silence, you clear your throat. 

“you said you’ve been on this island before,” you start, your voice low but firm. 

“what did you find? if you don’t mind me asking.”  

jun-ho doesn’t turn to face you. his knuckles whiten against the edge of the boat, and his jaw tightens. the way his body stiffens tells you more than his silence does. he’s holding something back.  

“it’s... complicated,” he says after a long pause, his voice tight.  

you frown, stepping closer. 

“complicated how?”  

he finally turns his head, his dark eyes meeting yours for a fleeting moment before looking away. 

“it’s not something i like talking about.”  

jun ho’s answer frustrates you, but you bite back the sharp retort sitting on the tip of your tongue. you don’t have time for vague responses, not when every passing hour feels like another nail in the coffin for gi-hun..or worse, for hana who you could be looking for instead.  

“look,” you say, trying to keep your tone measured, “if we’re going to do this together, i need to know what we’re up against. whatever you saw, whatever you know, it could be the difference between us finding gi-hun or walking into a trap.”  

the police officer’s gaze drops to the deck, and for a moment, he says nothing. the sound of the waves fills the void, each crash amplifying the weight of his silence.  

“i saw the frontman,” he says finally, his voice barely audible.  

“wha- huh? the frontman?” you repeat, confused.  

he nods, his eyes still fixed on the deck. 

“he’s the one running the show, the man in charge of the island…i never got a good look at him. he always wore a mask but he nearly killed me.”  

the tension in your chest tightens like a coil. this new piece of information does little to ease your anxiety. did gi-hun know about this?

“that’s it?” you press, your frustration bleeding into your voice. 

“you didn’t see anything else?”  

jun-ho hesitates, his jaw clenching as if debating whether or not to say more. 

“no,” he says after a moment, but the hesitation in his tone sets off alarms in your head.  

“what aren’t you telling me?” you ask, stepping closer, your eyes narrowing.  

“nothing,” he snaps, a little too quickly.  

you don’t believe him, but you let it go for now. pushing him won’t get you the answers you need, and you can feel your own nerves fraying with every passing second.  

your thoughts drift, unbidden, to hana. the anxiety creeps in like a shadow, wrapping around your chest and squeezing until it’s hard to breathe. 

where is she? is she safe? the thought of her being hurt..or worse..makes your stomach churn.  

jun-ho’s voice breaks through your spiraling thoughts. 

“what’s your other problem?” he asks, his tone softer now, almost hesitant. 

“you mentioned it before, but you didn’t tell me what it was.”  

you hesitate, your fingers twitching at your sides. you’ve kept this to yourself for days, carrying the weight of it alone because you didn’t think anyone else would understand. but now, standing here with jun-ho, you feel the tiniest crack in your resolve.  

“it’s my sister,” you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.  

jun-ho’s brow furrows, concern flashing in his eyes. 

“your sister?”  

you nod, swallowing hard. 

“her name’s hana. she went missing a few days ago. no note, no sign of where she might’ve gone. we don’t have money and our parents died a few years ago, so it’s not like she could’ve just left on her own. she wouldn’t do that. she wouldn’t just disappear.”  

jun ho’s expression shifts, something unreadable flickering across his face… his hands clench at his sides, he looks as though he’s reliving a memory he’d rather forget.  

“maybe your sister is on the island too,” he mumbles, almost to himself.  

the words hit you like a slap. your head snaps up, your eyes widening. 

“excuse me?”  

he hesitates, his gaze dropping. 

“there’s something you need to know,” he says quietly, his voice weighed down by something heavy.  

you don’t say anything, your stomach twisting into knots as he sits down on the bench and motions for you to join him. you hesitate for a moment before sitting beside him, the tension between you almost unbearable.  

“the island,” he begins, his tone measured but laced with something darker, “isn’t just a place. it’s a... game. a series of games, actually. people are brought there, and they’re forced to compete. if they win, they get an obscene amount of money. if they lose...”  

he trails off, but you don’t need him to finish. the implication is clear, and it makes your blood run cold.  

“you’re telling me it’s some kind of... death game?” you whisper, your voice trembling.  

he nods grimly. 

“exactly that… and if your sister is there...”  

you don’t let him finish. you can’t. the thought is too unbearable. if hana is on that island, then every second counts.  

“did she leave anything behind?” jun-ho asks, his voice gentler now.  

you shake your head, your mind racing. 

“nothing. no clues, no messages. just... gone.”  

you feel something on your left hand and you look down to see that his hand brushes yours, tentative but steady. you glance at him, startled by the contact, but his expression is soft, almost reassuring. 

“we’ll find her,” he says, his voice quiet but firm.  

for a moment, you don’t respond. the weight of his words, the sincerity in his voice..it’s almost too much to bear.  

“thanks,” you murmur, your voice thick with emotion.  

the two of you sit there in silence as the moon rises above the ocean, casting its pale light over the water. without thinking, you lean against him, your head resting lightly on his chest. he stiffens at first but then relaxes, his arm brushing around your shoulders in a way that feels deliberate.  

“we’ll figure this out,” he says again, his voice steady now.  

you nod, closing your eyes for a brief moment. the closeness between you feels... safe. like you’re not alone in this, even if it’s just for a night.  

by the time the sun rises, the moment is over. the vulnerability, the quiet intimacy.. it’s gone, replaced by the sharp focus of the mission ahead. neither of you mention it, but something unspoken lingers in the air, a bond forged in shared fears and quiet confessions.  

four days. that’s all you have left. 

in the early afternoon.. the boat slows as it approaches the shoreline. you grip the semi-automatic rifle in your hands, its familiar weight a comfort despite the unease settling in your chest. 

the island looms ahead, shadowed and uninviting, with dense foliage lining the shore and no sign of life beyond the eerie stillness.  

jun-ho steps off the boat first, his movements precise and calculated. the police officer’s handgun is holstered at his side as he holds the bigger automatic in his hands, his posture is straight. 

you follow, your boots crunching softly against the gravel as you step onto the narrow path ahead. the rest of the team falls in line behind you, their weapons raised, eyes scanning the surroundings for any sign of danger.  

jun-ho turns to face the group, his expression stern.

“i’ll take point,” he says firmly, his gaze meeting yours briefly before moving on.  

“i can lead,” you interject, your voice steady but firm.  

“no?” you say. 

“yes.” he protests. 

“well, mr. policeman– were you in the special forces or is this you saying that you do not tru-” 

“let me just protect you, okay?” he says your name after. jun ho is clear. he shakes his head, his jaw tightening. 

the words catch you off guard, a warmth creeping into your chest despite the gravity of the situation. your grip on the rifle tightens as you search for something to say, but all you manage is a curt nod.  

“fine,” you mutter, falling into step behind him.  

the trail is narrow, barely wide enough for two people to walk side by side. bushes and vines press in from both sides, the occasional rustle of leaves setting your nerves on edge. jun-ho’s steps are deliberate, his eyes constantly scanning the path ahead, while you cover his back, your weapon at the ready.  

you clear your throat, your voice low. 

“everything look okay up there?”  

he glances over his shoulder, his expression unreadable. “so far,” he replies, his tone clipped but calm.  

the tension between you hums like a live wire, unspoken words lingering in the air. it’s not just the situation..it’s him. the way he moves, the way he keeps glancing back at you, as if he’s making sure you’re still there.  

you push the thought aside, focusing on the task at hand. the gravel crunches beneath your boots as the trail twists and turns, the thick canopy overhead blocking out most of the sunlight. the rest of the team moves in a tight formation, their weapons raised, their eyes darting to every shadow.  

“trail’s too clean,” you mutter under your breath, your gaze sweeping the ground. 

“like it’s been used recently.”  

jun-ho nods, his jaw tightening. 

“I noticed.”  

you glance at him, your brows furrowing. 

“so, what’s the plan if this is a setup?”  

he doesn’t answer right away, his focus on the path ahead. when he finally speaks, his voice is low and deliberate. 

“we deal with it. we’ve gotten this far.”  

jun ho’s confidence is steadying, even if you don’t entirely share it. you scan the surrounding foliage, the weight of the rifle in your hands grounding you.  

the gravel path suddenly widens, opening into a small clearing. jun-ho raises his hand, signaling for everyone to stop. the group freezes, weapons raised, as his sharp eyes scan the area.  

“what is it?” you ask, stepping closer to him.  

he gestures to the far side of the clearing, where another trail picks up. 

“it splits. two paths.”  

your stomach tightens. splitting up isn’t ideal, but staying bunched together could make you an easy target.  

“we should split into two groups,” jun-ho says, his voice calm but authoritative. 

“cover more ground.”  

you hesitate, glancing at him. 

“are you sure about that? we don’t know what’s out here.”  

“that’s why we keep communication tight,” he replies, his gaze locking with yours. 

“stay close to your group. and don’t take risks.”  

“fine,” you say again, your voice softer this time.  

as the group splits, you end up with jun-ho, a decision that seems less about strategy and more about his insistence on staying close to you. you can feel the others’ eyes on you, their curiosity unspoken but palpable.  

the new trail is narrower, the overgrowth pressing in from both sides. jun-ho keeps his pace steady, his shoulders brushing against yours occasionally as the path twists and turns. the silence between you stretches, heavy with unspoken tension.  

finally, he breaks it. 

“you okay back there?”  

“i can handle myself,” you reply, a touch of defensiveness in your tone.  

he glances at you, his lips twitching into the faintest hint of a smile. 

“i know. doesn’t mean i won’t worry.”  

the warmth from earlier returns, stronger this time. you focus on the path ahead, unwilling to let him see how his words affect you.  

twelve hours later.. in the middle of the night in the lounge area, you feel suffocated. even with the boat’s attempt at cozy decor. the low hum of the boat engine is drowned out by the relentless patter of rain against the windows. 

you sit on the worn-out couch, staring blankly at the table in front of you. the rain, usually a source of comfort, does nothing to soothe the storm brewing inside you.  

you feel defeated. empty.  

the mission on the island earlier had led to nothing. the island turned out to be nothing more than a small, desolate beach. no inhabitants. no clues. nothing. 

three days left, and it felt like you were running out of time faster than you could grasp.  

your chest tightens as your thoughts drift to hana. after losing your parents, she was the only person who made life bearable. she kept you grounded, gave you a purpose and a source to keep surviving after leaving the special forces. when mr. kim introduced you to gi-hun, you found a new sense of direction, but hana? hana was always home, and now she is gone.  

your eyes sting, and before you know it, tears are slipping down your cheeks. you wipe at them angrily, frustrated at yourself for breaking down when you should be focusing. however, the thought of your sister..alone, scared, maybe hurt or worse..it’s too much.  

“why would she do this?” you whisper to the empty room, your voice trembling. 

“why would she risk her life for money?”  

your hands tremble as they clench into fists on your lap. you know the answer. it was always about survival, about getting out of the hole life had thrown you both into. hana didn’t know the cost. she didn’t know about the games, about the killings. 

she didn’t know that the promise of wealth came with the risk of ending up in a coffin on some forgotten island.  

a sob escapes your lips, and you bury your face in your hands, the weight of it all crashing down. the fear, the hopelessness, the anger.. it spills out in ragged breaths and muffled cries.  

you don’t notice the quiet footsteps until you feel a pair of arms wrap around you, pulling you into a warm, soft chest on the couch.  

“it’s okay,” jun-ho’s voice is soft, steady, grounding. 

“we’ll find her.”  

you stiffen at first, caught off guard by his presence, but his hand moves up and down your back in slow, soothing strokes, and you let yourself lean into him.  

“i don’t know...” you choke out, your voice breaking. 

“i don’t know if we can.”  

jun-ho pulls back slightly, just enough to look at you. his eyes are filled with something you don’t expect.. understanding.  

“i lost my brother many years ago,” he says quietly, his voice tinged with a sadness that matches your own.  

you blink, your tears pausing for a moment. 

“your brother?”  

he nods, his gaze distant. 

“he disappeared without a trace. for years, i didn’t know what happened to him. i thought he was dead. then, when i found him... he wasn’t the same.”  

you can see the pain etched into his features, the weight of a story he hasn’t told anyone else.  

“but you know what?” he continues, his voice growing firmer. 

“i still went after him because he was my brother.. because that’s what you do for your family. and that’s what we’re going to do for your sister. we’re going to find hana. we’re going to find gi-hun, and we’re going to end this.”  

jun ho’s words wrap around you like a lifeline, pulling you out of the spiral of despair. you don’t know how he does it.

you don’t say anything, but you shift closer to him, burying your face in his chest again. the policeman’s arms tighten around you, holding you like he’s the only thing keeping you together.  

as the rain continues to fall outside, the world beyond the boat fades away. all you can feel is the warmth of his embrace, the steady rise and fall of his chest, the way his presence anchors you.  

after a while, you sit up, wiping at your tear-streaked face. jun-ho reaches out, his thumb brushing against your cheek, wiping away a stray tear. the tenderness of the gesture sends a shiver through you.  

“you’re way stronger than you think,” he says softly, his voice carrying a quiet conviction.  

your eyes meet his, and something shifts in the air between you. the tension that’s been building over the past few days comes to a head, and before you can think twice, you lean in.  

the moment your lips meet his, it’s like the rest of the world disappears. the man’s left hand cups your cheek and his right hand grabs your lower waist, pulling you closer, and you feel the weight of his kiss. 

he kisses you back with a quiet dominance, his other hand resting on your waist, holding you steady. it’s not just a kiss…it’s a promise. a promise that he’s here, that he’ll protect you, that you’re not alone.  

your hands find their way to his shoulders, clutching at him like he’s the only thing tethering you to reality. the rain pounds against the windows, the boat rocking gently with the waves, but all you can focus on is him.  

when you finally pull back, your breaths are heavy, your foreheads resting against each other. his eyes search yours, and you see the same vulnerability reflected back at you.  

“we’ll get through this,” he murmurs, his voice low and steady.  

you nod, your fingers brushing against his jaw. 

“together.”  

he kisses you again, slower this time, as if savoring the moment. and for the first time in days, you feel a spark of hope reignite in your chest.  

outside, the rain continues to fall, the boat drifting along the waves. somewhere out there is the island you’ve been searching for, the answers you desperately need. 

for now, at this moment, all you can think about is the strong man holding you and how his lips give you the reassurance that you desperately need.

a/n: hope you enjoyed <3

[everlastingdreams]

The Weeping Monk x Fem!Reader : Forged Of Fire Chapter 41

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Story Summary: Raised under the tiranny of your own family, and forced to steal to earn your keep, you struggle to survive. Born from a Fey mother, and a Manblood father who wanted only sons, you are forced to hide your Fey side. When you are ordered to steal from Father Carden by your half-brother, Cassian, your life spirals out of control and you find yourself at the mercy of the Weeping Monk. The life you knew changes drastically when Cassian betrays you in the cruelest of ways. A trade is made, a promise is broken, and a debt must be paid.

Chapter Title: All That Glistens Is Not Gold

Notes: /

Warnings: Angst. Hurt. Trauma bonding. Intrafamily violence. Depression. Self-harm. Suicidal thoughts. Violence. Torture. Gore. Pining. Trauma. Self-Flagellation. Manipulation. Strong Language. Blood. Misogyny. PTSD. Spicy and smut parts. Slight redemption arc. Lima/Stockholm syndrom-ish. Childhood trauma.

Other warnings: Jealousy. Forced Marriage. Forbidden Love. Romance. Slow-burn. Found Familly-ish. Comfort. Fluff. !SMUT and SPICE!

Word count of this fic: +250K

Chapter:  41/47

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One moment you were in a room with Pym, and now you found yourself alone and laying down in a bed in one of the bedrooms of the castle. It was enough to frighten anyone and cause panic, it truly felt like no time had passed.

“Pym?!?” You sat up in the bed and felt dizzy and nauseous right away, you had to lay back down again.

The door opened and Merlin stepped inside, a sigh of relief escaping him upon seeing you conscious again. “Pym is having supper.” He walked to your side. “Fear not, I do not believe that you fainted from the fall.”

You found comfort in how calm he sounded. “Then what happened to me?”

He picked up a plate with a sliced pear on it, offering you a piece. “When did you last eat, and what was it?”

You had to think for a moment. “I had some bread this morning. I wasn’t really hungry.”

“I fear your body disagrees with you on that matter.” He held the piece of pear right under your nose. “Something sweet will help you feel better. Go on.”

It was a bit uncomfortable to eat while laying down, but Merlin stood by to make certain you didn’t accidentally choke on it. “I fainted because I didn’t eat enough?”

He gave a slow nod. “Indeed. With everything going on, it is common for hunger to go unnoticed until it makes us ill.”

“Is my head alright?… "

“I have had centuries to learn all there is to know of healing, whether it be from a curse or sickness, you have my word that you will be well.” He took a vial with a strange looking liquid from his satchel. “But just to be certain, drink this.”

The whispers of the Hidden were in your ears at the sight of the vial. “That contains magic.”

He was surprised to hear that you could tell. “Did the Hidden let it be known?”

Your brow furrowed. “Yes. And I can smell it from here, it doesn’t smell normal.”

He put the vial in your hand, looking at you curiously. “It will not taste well either, but this bottled magical concoction will help with any pain your head causes you.”

You eyed the vial. “It’s not poison, is it?”

Merlin was amused by it. “Poisoning one of the last to carry the Fey Fire in their blood would be foolish. If only you knew how I risked my life to have just a small jar of it.”

You sensed he was truthful and drank the vial, he had been truthful about the taste of it too. “Thank you, Merlin. Not just for helping me, but for helping all of us.”

A gentle smile appeared on his face. “You are very welcome. I have stood aside in this battle between Manblood and Fey for far too long, it took me losing my daughter to see how wrong of me it was. I will continue the fight she could not.”

“A noble choice.” you told him.

He disagreed on that, “It would have been noble if I had made that choice before losing her.”

You could see that guilt was eating at him. “No one is free of mistakes, Merlin, it is how we handle them that is important.”

He fell quiet for a moment, seeming to ponder on that thought. “I will go and tell Pym that you are awake. The poor girl was quite shaken after she saw you faint.”

Poor Pym… “Tell her that I’m alright and that she hasn’t done anything wrong.”

He gave a nod, opening the door and finding Gawain standing outside ready to knock. Gawain greeted Merlin and stepped into the room, closing the door behind Merlin. Gawain came right to your side to help you sit up a little and adjusted the pillow behind your back for support.

“You had us worried.” He said, putting the plate with sliced pear into your lap. “How are you feeling?”

It was easier to sit up now, the small bite of pear was starting to help. “My head still doesn’t feel good, but Merlin gave me some medicine for that. Don’t worry, Gawain, I’ll live.”

He pointed in a scolding manner. “You’d better.” Upon seeing you frown he explained, “The Ash Man threatened to fight the Hidden if you did not wake again.”

You tried to be serious about it, failed and chuckled instead. “How does he plan on doing that?”

He sounded confident on the matter, “He may just be mad enough to find a way.”

True. “Tell him to behave. He will listen to you.”

“I have.” he assured. “And once Merlin told us you would be alright after some rest and a meal, I gave Lancelot some tasks to focus on to keep him calm. That man is a bottled storm.”

You took another piece of pear to eat. “Best to keep him busy. Or that storm unleashes.”

Gawain headed to the door again. “I will have someone bring you a meal to eat. Soup was made.”

Poor, poor Pym. She would not have been happy with that. “Thank you, Gawain. Do tell Lancelot, and Percival, that I am alright.”

He opened the door to step out. Just then Percival darted past Gawain and into the room right towards you, in his hands was your satchel.

“Tell him yourself.” Gawain chuckled.

The knight left you to handle the boy alone, who promptly went to stand by the side of the bed. Percival put the satchel down beside the bed.

You noticed him glance down at the slices of pear. “Do you want some pear?”

It looked like he wanted to say ‘yes’ but he stopped himself. “No. You should eat, or you’ll faint again.”

He had sounded so worried… and it was adorable how he tried to look like he was not worried at all.

“Come sit with me.” You patted the spot beside you. “I’d love some company.”

The boy took the offer right away and plopped down on the edge of the bed. “Merlin said you’d be alright. You will be alright… won’t you?”

The loss of his friend had scarred the child’s heart. Too many goodbyes, too many loses.

You hoped to put his mind at ease. “I will be back on my feet in no time. Don’t you worry about me, Percival. I’m stronger than I might appear.”

He pressed his lips shut, as if he hoped not to say what he did, “I hope so.”

Wait… was that in response to you being back on your feet again soon or…

The cheeky grin that appeared on his face gave you that answer.

You snatched hold of his arm, pulling him into you, ruffling that wild hair. “You little rascal!”

“I’m not little!” He tried to squirm free, a joyful laugh escaping him.

Finally you let him go. “Still a rascal!”

Percival was still chuckling and a little out of breath from the playful attack on him. “And you’re a minx.”

You barely held in the gasp, it was stated like it was a fact to him. “Where did you learn such a word?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Lancelot once said it really quietly when you were walking away and he thought no one could hear.”

“He said that, huh?” That sneaky twit…

The boy nodded, ratting out the Ash Man. “What does it mean though? He wouldn’t answer when I asked.”

Speak of the devil, the door was opened quickly and there stood your worried husband. A quiet sigh of relief fell upon seeing you conscious again.

Your eyes narrowed at him. “Ah, there you are. Just in time. Percival was just asking me what the word ‘minx’ means. Does that sound familiar to you?”

His relief turned into confusion, then concern and ultimately guilt. Like a child caught in a crime. “Percival, why don’t you go and see if the Green Knight needs your help?”

“But-”

“Now.”

The boy grumbled whilst getting up from the bed and glared at the Ash Man until he was out the door, leaving the door wide open behind him. Lancelot sighed, closing the door.

Your brow arched. “Well?”

He shuffled a little where he stood. “I may have referred to you as such. It was not my intention to have the boy overhear it.”

Of course it wasn’t. “Uhu.”

Whenever he felt out of his comfort, he would fold his hands behind his back and try to appear taller than he already was. It was so easy to tell he feared being reprimanded over it.

He came to stand beside the bed, his tone half-serious, “Must you insist on trying to make me a widower today?”

“I’m trying not to.” you jested.

It did not make him smile, and that was how you knew he was still shaken from it. A slight frown set on his face as he looked at the floor, as if he wanted to hide how shaken he was. “Your markings have gone back into hiding I see.”

“Have they?” you hoped the question would make him look at you again.

He simply nodded, then took in a deep breath, tilting his chin up to the ceiling for a brief moment. “Are you certain you wish to stay here?”

Your smile fell. “What?”

His eyes locked on yours, searching for the answer. “Had the gods not opened that door, you would not have fallen and you would not be here like this now-”

You stopped him right there. “Lancelot, I fainted because I haven’t eaten well today.”

He said what he needed to say, “If you feel unsafe, we will leave.”

You sat up more. “The fall was an accident, I can feel it. And the fainting was my fault. I don’t feel unsafe here.”

He was quiet for a moment, then picked up the satchel from the floor and took out the journals to hand them to you. “Forgive me for showing caution. I may never put my trust into any deity again.”

Once a monk, a loyal servant of the god the paladins prayed to, but he would never be so blinded by faith again.

And you were happy he was able to listen to the voice of reason inside of him. “I understand that.” You reached out and gave his arm a squeeze. “Gawain said he gave you some tasks to keep you distracted. What have you been doing whilst I was here?”

He summed some of it up, “Taking inventory of what we have and what we need. Near half of the bed linen in the castle is too worn down to use. Much needs to be washed, some is good to use. We will have a lot of work to restore this place to it’s former glory, I fear. There are broken windows that will need to be repaired, the stables need to be tended to…”

There was so much to be done. Some parts of the castle needed to be stabilized. Doors needed to be repaired or replaced. And the whole place was covered in a layer of dust that would take time to clean away. But underneath all the flaws was a glimpse of the beauty the castle had once held, and deep down he knew he could restore it. This could be home, as it once had been to the Fey.

It was clear he was a bit overwhelmed by it all, the work, your health, that fear of failing the Fey. “We’re not alone in this, Lancelot. We can do this.”

His eyes softened at the sheer determination in you. He sat down on the edge of the bed, curling a finger under your chin to let his intention be known when he leaned in. The opportunity of a kiss was stolen away when Percival barged into the room with a bowl of soup. Lancelot was quick to sit up straight again, cursing internally.

The sweet child came to personally hand you the soup. “Careful! It’s warm.”

You gave Percival your sweetest smile. “Thank you, young knight.”

Percival beamed with pride over to mention of his title and fulfilling the task the Green Knight had given him. He turned to Lancelot. “The Green Knight said he still needs our help.”

Lancelot tried to hide his reaction over having to leave your side again while you were still recovering. He stood up from the bed, glancing at you to see you nod in understanding. Duty called, and this time the work was to better life for the Fey. There would undoubtedly be busy days ahead, days where you’d work hard and to be able to do that you needed to rest and get your strength up again. And that is what you did once they left the room.

    ~~~♡~~~♡~~~♤~~~♡~~~♡~~~

  Later, in the midst of the night, the dipping of the mattress pulled you out of your slumber. Your vision was still a blur from sleep when you made a disapproving noise and lifted your head off of the pillow a little. The scent of him reached your nostrils with ease from how close he was.

“Lancelot?” you mumbled still half-asleep.

He hushed you, kissing your cheek whilst putting an arm around your waist. You could feel him lay down behind you.

He sounded very tired, “Will you let me rest here?”

You took hold of his hand and brought it up to hold it to your chest, scooting back a little to be closer than he’d probably thought he was allowed to be.

He hummed content. “Trying to push me out of the bed, are you?”

You matched the jest with your own, “You’re the one who crawled in and took up my space.”

“Is that a complaint?”

“No.”

That earned you a lingering kiss to your cheek. He held on tight, as if he thought you’d fly off into the night. “Are you feeling better?”

You let him rest his face in the crook of your neck. “I am. And you? You sound exhausted.”

He did not deny that it was true. “It has been an eventful day and I am glad it has ended.”

That did not sound very good. He must have tired himself out. Creating Fey Fire, the journey here, the visions and then the work this castle needed on top of that.

You curved into him more, a little playful. “Tomorrow I believe I will be back on my feet and able to help. And I’m going to make sure that you don’t overwork yourself, because I know you have a tendency to do so.”

His hand flew to your hip upon feeling the playful push of your behind into him. “I will not let you help unless you are truly better.”

“You won’t ‘let’ me?” You snorted a little arrogantly. “I will decide that for myself, thank you.”

If he thought you wouldn’t do exactly that, he was in for a shock. His protectiveness was sweet, but it was not going to stop you from helping tomorrow.

He dared it. He dared to jest, “Sometimes I miss the days when I could just put some rope on you.”

You sat upright instantly, grabbed your pillow and smacked it against his side. “Out.” Again. “Out of the bed!”

He shielded himself from another hit of the pillow with his arm. Even in the darkened room his smirk was visible. “You do not mean that.”

You were more baffled by the audacity than you were angry. “Did you truly just jest about how you once kept me tied up?!”

He took hold on the pillow too. “I was merely jesting.”

It made you roll your eyes and snatch the pillow from his hands. You scooted away from him, creating a distance, and laid down nearly at the last bit of space on the edge of the bed.

He disapproved of the spot you had chosen. “You will fall off if you sleep there.”

You closed your eyes, mumbling under your breath, “Perhaps I’d rather be on the floor.”

He did not know why seeing you get feisty made his blood run faster. It simply excited him, feeding a natural instinct in him to be the one that could weather the storm you cast down upon him.

He got closer again, gliding his hand over your shoulder and arm. Laying himself back down again just like before, only now he was vying for attention. Quietly he inhaled your scent and made a content sound. “I prefer you to be on the bed with me, where I can have you close.”

When you ignored him, he simply grew more motivated to get your attention. He pressed a kiss to your shoulder, brushed the tips of his fingers over your arm. He knew what he was doing when he lowered his voice to a husk. “I know you are not angry. You would not let me do this if you were…”

You struggled to keep still when he proceeded to kiss your neck. “If you come near me with a rope again, I’ll strangle you with it.”

He chuckled and kissed your neck again, then the side of your head. “As is your right.” A squeeze of his hand on your waist made you ticklish and he did it again upon noticing it. “I do enjoy your fighting spirit. It excites me.”

You tilted your head to look at him. “Is that why you decided to wake me up and annoy me?”

A cheeky grin was plastered on his face. “It was not planned. But I do not mind this result.”

“You miss the excitement from battle and decide to cause it in the bedroom. I am not surprised.” you blurted out matter-of-factually.

“Well…” He clicked his tongue. “An angry wife is a formidable opponent .”

You pecked his cheek. “And don’t you forget that. Now sleep, you are looking pale.”

“No.” His brow arched.

“Why not?” you sighed.

“First this.” He tilted his head, locking his lips to yours briefly. “Goodnight, my love.”

It was all it needed to cause the fluttering in your stomach to overwhelm you. “Sleep well, Lancelot.”

With one last kiss to your forehead he laid down to rest behind you, holding you close. It was quiet for some time, his breathing was getting deeper and slower.

“You feel so very warm…” He was close to sleep.

You held on to his hand as you fell asleep. Grateful for the chance to sleep in a proper bed again.

    ~~~♡~~~♡~~~♤~~~♡~~~♡~~~

  The next day, when you presented yourself ready to help, Gawain was relieved. The task you were given was simple. To go to the village and purchase the linen and wares that were needed. How you were to carry all that? Well, Lancelot and Arthur were send along. Gawain did agree with purchasing a wagon and horse to make it easier to transport everything. The journey to the village was… interesting to say the least. One moment the Manblood and Ash Man got along perfectly fine, the next they were rolling their eyes and annoying each other.

You were almost at the village when your patience ran out and you all but shouted at them as they rode a little ahead of you. “Good gods! Can you two just shut up if all you say is meant to bother the other?!? I have no interest in having to delay our task just to prevent the two of you from trying to kill each other!”

Arthur and Lancelot fell quiet immediately, like a pair of scolded children feeling the eyes of their parent burn into their backs. That silence did not last long.

“I wouldn’t be the one who first draws a weapon.” Arthur knew exactly what would rile Lancelot up.

Lancelot scoffed loudly. “Is that not what you did when we met again in Gramaire?”

“I had every right to have a sword at your throat. You tried to kill me the first time we met.” Arthur said.

He muttered under his breath, “How many times will you bring that up again…”

“Forever if I can.” Arthur deadpanned.

“Enough!” you barked the order.

Another silence fell. This time a shorter one.

“Gawain trusts me to complete this task without problems.” Arthur looked at Lancelot.

He arched a brow back at him. “Gawain ‘trusts’ you?”

Arthur tried not to let it get to him. “I’ve know Gawain longer than you.”

He did not hold back. “And still he has yet to show you the amount of trust that he shows me.”

“It is because you’re Fey. If you were Manblood he would have murdered you.” Arthur said casually.

He fired the jab to Arthur’s pride, “Or perhaps he knows I will not let my ego cloud my judgment.”

You did not warn them again, sick of hearing the continuous attempts to irritate each other. It was like listening to bickering children and to avoid having to hear it for the last bit of the way, you spurred Bear on and rode past them to get ahead. Their bickering continued a little quieter and by the time you reached the village it had changed into normal banter again. The horses were left under the care of a stablehand of the stables next to an inn, you paid him and promised extra when you’d return.

Arthur came towards you, gesturing at you a little awkwardly. “I’ve noticed you are wearing a different bodice today. It suits you well.”

It made you look down at it as well. It was one of the clothes you had salvaged from your old room in Ravenwick. “Thank you. I’ve had it for a while but wasn’t sure if it would look good on me.”

“It does.” He was glad the compliment was received well.

The one who did not receive the compliment well was the Ash Man who approached a moment later, his eyes said it all.

And as if to toss oil onto a flame, Arthur smirked at him. “Have you noticed how lovely she looks today.”

Lancelot knew it was meant to provoke him. “I have.”

You looked between them, sighing. “Let’s go and see if we can buy a wagon and horse from the one who owns these stables.”

You went over to the stablehand again and asked him where the owner could be found. The owner was in the inn, having his midday ale. And when you entered the inn, others were having their midday ale as well it seemed. With the description of the stablehand you found the owner sitting at a table with others and you introduced yourself first.

His nose had turned red from the ale he had drank. “What can I help you with, lass?”

Straight to the point it was. “We are looking to buy a wagon with a horse from you.”

“That’s a costly matter, lass. How do you want to pay for that?” The old man put a hand on your behind.

Arthur was quick to notice the movement from Lancelot and he planted a hand on his chest to stop him. The rest of the table laughed it off.

By remaining calm, you hoped to settle the deal without any hiccups. You took the hand off of your rear, feigning your best smile. “With coin, of course. How much will it be?”

“Two coins of gold!” He said it loud, half-jesting because he didn’t think you could ever afford it. “One for the wagon. One for the horse. They are worth the price.”

You reached into your satchel and put down his asking price. “I believe this is correct, is it not?”

The whole table stared down at the gold, having quieted down abruptly, the man scratched his beard.

The man took the coins and quickly put them in his pocket. “Uh… it’s the white spotted horse… I’ll show it… come.”

Lancelot and Arthur stepped aside, letting the man pass so he could show you your purchase. The wagon was not in the most perfect shape, but you counted yourself lucky that you were able to buy a wagon at all. The horse was a strong stallion who had experience with pulling the wagon.

The man turned to Lancelot whilst you and Arthur inspected the wagon. “I have more horses for sale, if you are interested?”

“No.” He was short, barely even acknowledging the man.

Arthur looked at Lancelot a little worried, knowing that he was still fuming internally about what had happened earlier. “Lancelot, what do you think of the wagon?”

He came to stand beside you. “It will do for now.”

You whispered to him, “You alright?”

“I am calm.” he said, more as a reminder to himself to stay so.

The tension in his jaw and the way he tilted his chin up just a tiny bit gave him away. He had hated to see the man touch you. At least he stayed in control over that anger now and it was oddly attractive.

First you looked to see if neither Arthur or the man were close enough to overhear, then whispered. “Don’t be jealous. You can touch my rear too later.”

His eyes snapped to you and upon seeing the wicked smile on your lips the tension in his features vanished. He looked so innocently flustered. A nervous smile settled on his face. A quiet scolding, “Don’t do that. Not here.”

You lightly bumped into him on purpose with your side. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m just acting like a minx right now, aren’t I?”

The smile turned into a smirk, entertained by the throwback to the previous evening. He turned to you, leaning in to whisper right back, “Yes, you are.”

Arthur cleared his throat loudly, noticing the close proximity the two of you were in. “So we agree on this sale then?”

Lancelot gave a nod. Arthur proceeded to chat with the man a bit more and thanked him for a well-struck deal. The man returned to the inn to spend some of that earned coin again.

Arthur hopped onto the wagon, taking the reins. “There’s a merchant up ahead, in that building there, that sells what we’ll need. Are you walking or…?”

It was only a few houses away, you could manage. “We’ll walk.”

        There was so much to buy for the Fey, for the castle… And this merchant sold clothes and fabrics. It had to be one of the best days of that woman’s life when you nearly bought her complete inventory of wares. The fabrics could be used for so many purposes, and one could easily make bed linen, bandages and curtains from them. The clothes felt surreal to buy. You thought of all the Feys who’s homes and belongings had been lost to the war. All the children wearing clothes that were either worn down severely, or too big or small, would find joy in having some good clothing to wear again. Everyone helped folding the wares and loading them onto the wagon.

Lancelot had seen Arthur struggle to fold a pair of trousers and had not commented on it, showing that there was improvement happening between them. While loading up the wagon, you put a stack of clothes aside for Percival, hoping the boy would like them.

Soon the wagon was filled with new hope and wares, and you had retrieved the horses. Lancelot had tied the reins of Arthur’s horse to Goliath’s, as Arthur rode the wagon back to the fort. Arthur struggled in silence to steer the wagon, zigzagging from time to time.

Lancelot had noticed the struggle. “Perhaps I should-”

Arthur had felt it coming. “No. No, I can steer this wagon. It’s fine.”

The Ash Man send you a look, you tried not to laugh when the wagon swayed overly to the left again.

Arthur suddenly began to slow the wagon down, eyes set on the forest surrounding him. “Lancelot.”

One look was all Lancelot needed to know that something was wrong. He rode up to Arthur. “What is it?”

Arthur kept his voice low. “I think we are being followed.”

He did not show how alarming it was. “Keep going as you are. Stay calm. I will go and inspect it.”

From the corner of your eyes you had seen something move, there was a split second where you thought it was a bird. But then Bear reared up in fright of the burning arrow that had landed right in front of his legs. A scream fled your lungs, the sudden rearing of the horse caused you to fall out of the saddle.

The next burning arrows barely missed Goliath, Lancelot dismounted fast and send the stallions away, because as long as they were near the horses were a target. He moved to your direction until Arthur loudly warned him of the next set of arrows coming his way. There was barely enough time to dodge the arrows, from the trees the assailants charged at him and Arthur, their target was clearly the contents of the wagon. And unfortunately you, Arthur and Lancelot were their obstacle. They had send that arrow towards Bear on purpose, causing a distraction and preventing you from having an advantage on horseback against them.

Arthur jumped down from the wagon to help you and Lancelot, and immediately had to defend himself against these attackers. There were many, at least ten, all Manblood. You got up to your feet and barely had enough time to draw your sword to ward off the woman that lunged at you. Chaos had erupted from all sides. These thieves were ruthless and impatient, you saw Arthur get struck in the face by one of them. The same happened to Lancelot mere seconds later when four of them gathered up against him. The woman attacking you was growing angrier by the second, and as she lifted her sword into the air to strike it down upon you you sank down to your knees and send your sword upward into her chest. One of her comrades had seen it happen and there was not enough time to free your sword before you had to evade him. He swung at you with his axe and you grabbed his arm to block the attack, you held on, knowing that letting go meant getting wounded. The man roughly moved half a turn and made you trip over his feet, you kicked the back of his knee right away to get the idea out of his head that he was just going to put that axe into your skull, it send him to the ground too and the fight for the axe began. You balled your fist and struck his nose hard while trying to pull the axe from his hand.

A strong tug at the back of your jacket broke you away from him, and then you were being dragged over the grass while you tried to pry the hand from behind your neck. The cold steel of a blade touched the side of your throat. Just then, Arthur hit the ground, a sword was held to his throat as well. Lancelot was still cutting through them, meeting their violent attack with his own.

The one threatening Arthur drew his attention. “Drop your sword!” He saw Lancelot look at him, then at Arthur, then at you. “Kneel on the ground, hands behind your head, or we’ll gut them like pigs!”

The broad man that held on to your jacket chuckled ominously, then proceeded to drag you over the ground towards the wagon and only then did you notice it was your own sword you were being threatened with.

Arthur saw them drag you to the wagon and understood their intent. “No! Lancelot!”

What choice did he have? If he continued to fight whilst you and Arthur were held at the blade this would end in tragedy.

Arthur received a hard kick to the stomach for that and tried to crawl away to no avail.

“Leave him be!” Lancelot let the sword fall from his hands and knelt down as they had ordered.

They bound his hands behind his back and fortunately they did not see the importance and value of the sword near their feet. Arthur was bound by rope too, left to struggle to get himself into a seated position. Your eyes locked on Lancelot’s, your worried ones found his to be eerily calm.

“Lance-” you couldn’t say what you wanted before you were being pulled further away.

“Be not afraid.” he answered the question he could read from your eyes.

The broad man held your hand up all of a sudden. “Gerold! Look here. Gold!”

You closed your hand into an iron grip when realizing he was going to steal your ring.

He twisted your hand, digging his dirty nails into it to pry it open. He nearly broke your finger to get it off. Another came to look inside your satchel to search for valuables, you prayed the bracelet did not slip past your sleeve as it would certainly tempt them to steal it too.

“Gerold…” The scrawny man held up one of the golden coins that was found in the satchel. “This one is worth more than she appears.”

Gerold looked at the wagon full of newly purchased wares, at the coins found in your satchel, and he came to his conclusion. “There’s more where that came from. She’s coming with us.”

The nasty comment made you want to strangle the life out of the scrawny one. They forced you onto the wagon, some of the thieves got on the wagon as well whilst others went to retrieve their horses.

Lancelot called out to Gerold, “I will bring any gold you desire if you leave her be!”

Gerold was disinterested. “Unlike her, you do not have a satchel with gold on you. We are taking her.”

The wagon began to move, those on horses rode along to guard it. A few of them stayed with Lancelot and Arthur, keeping them under control until the wagon was at a safe distance. You kept calm as they bound your hands behind your back as well. It was an odd calmness, one that hide the storm brewing underneath your skin. This wagon, your ring, you were not going to abandon it. Lancelot and Arthur were alive, and safe now that those thieves had left them there. They believed you were the key to the gold they so desired, if only they knew what you planned to do to those who threatened your newfound home.

Taglist:

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Please let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist of this story. Using this old list from the previous fic.

[chastity-himbo]

What do you feel about this:

Everyone can love chastity for different reasons, of course, just like any other kink. Here’s why I do :Chastity takes away a boy’s ability to use his dick. He can’t jerk off, he can’t penetrate anything, he can’t stimulate it, he can’t get hard. To me (and to a lot of people) the dick is the ultimate symbol of masculinity. So when a boy doesn’t have access to it the feel of masculinity alters. He’s no longer in control of his dick, it is now controlled by the keyholder. The boy doesn’t get pleasure from it, the boy can’t get hard, depending on the device, the boy might not even be able to see it. It’s emasculating. Not being able to cum makes the boy very horny. You’d be surprised what males are ready/want to do after not being able to cum for a few days/weeks. That makes him look for pleasure in other places. He wants to be touched anywhere, he wants to touch. In gay boys’ cases they think about dick non stop. They start playing with their ass to get some release so their hole becomes their sex organ. And because their hole is being stimulated and they get pleasure from it, it’s not just a hole anymore. It’s a cunt. They may not want to call it that, but that’s what it is in their head. So we now got a boy who’s hungry all the time, he trembles from the slightest touch and gets lots of pleasure from his new sex organ. Chastity improves sex for the boy. Not only is he more sensitive, but without being able to cum he will always enjoy sex. If you bottom, you know that if you cum - it’s game over. Your top has to stop because you don’t enjoy being fucked anymore. That problem goes away with chastity. Boy is always ready and eager. That, of course, makes sex better for me. Not to mention the hands free orgasm the boy can achieve after enough time in chastity. Once a boy cums without stimulating his clit, he’s changed forever. Chastity also never lets a boy forget who he is. You may be a bottom, you may be a sub. But you don’t think about that part of you when you’re at work or visiting you family or going to parties with your friends. The chastity device is always there, you can always feel it. Horny or not, sad or happy, alone or surrounded by people. You can always feel it, it’s a constant reminder that your manhood was taken away. It keeps you in your place, it never lets you forget that you get pleasure from getting fucked. Every time you need to use the bathroom you are faced with the reality of who you are : male but not a man. That changes a boy. His behavior becomes that of a sub even outside of the bedroom. Chastity builds up a lot of frustration and tension. That’s why it’s also a great way to motivate the boy go to the gym or be more productive in general. I’ve had a boy with a barely average body transform into a beast after just 1 year of chastity. I’m no longer his keyholder, but he still keeps the cage. He doesn’t want it off, because it motivates him so much.

And most importantly, I love chastity because it sets clear roles. The boy is giving up his masculinity for me, he locks it up as a sign of surrender. My dick becomes the only dick in the room and he’s just holes. I’m his Man, he’s my bitch. Fucking a boy while watching his soft clit in his cage being ignored is just very, very hot. I never liked when my bottoms touched themselves during sex. I thought the chastity devices looked a little weird at first. But now I love them. If I see one on a boy it makes me hard instantly. Because that means that he embraced his role as someone who belongs underneath Men.

Can you vibe on this?

You pretty much nailed it in the head. The only thing I’d add is the humiliation aspect of it. Specifically how it requires the brain. One of my favorite things to do is go to the gym locked, plugged, and in a thong and change out in the open in front of all of the other guys there. Nothing quite turns me on as much as the laughs and snickers I get when my tiny cock in exposed in such a way

[call-sign-shark]

I know this has probably already been asked, but I'm méchante and need to make sure 😈. What happened between Heaven and Amos for her to want to murder whoever mentions his name in her presence 😳??

That question has been sitting in my draft for too long, but now that everyone knows about Amos I felt like it was the good moment to answer that. My apologies for keeping you waiting. 🖤

Since the very beginning of HYE there are tiny and hidden references to Amos. While Heaven is pretty much indifferent to people, his name makes her lose it instantly. And yet, she never talked about him. Ever. Even Arthur doesn’t now much except that she had a fiancé and that he used to gift her roses, hence the fact she hates these flowers. So, what happened?

Amos and Heaven have a complicated story. He fell for her instantly and gained her trust slowly. He took care of her the moment she needed the most, that is when she turned 17 and that all the trauma of losing her family jumped back to her face after years of burying it. She was lost, enraged and out of control. When she started to let him in, Amos did EVERYTHING for her. He literally saved her from herself. However, he was often blinded by his ambitions (just like Tommy) and, possessive as he was, he grew too controlling to her liking. Now that you have the full context, here are the three reasons behind her hatred:

1) She feels like he’s responsible for the monster she became. He was the one who helped her discover that she could hurt as much as heal. With her hands and her powers. He turned her into his pet murderer and always fed/encouraged her killer side. If Amos wanted someone wiped from the surface of Earth, he would send Heaven. Also, he was the one with who she crafted her abilities to manipulate. If you ask her, she would tell you that he corrupted her soul and turned her more of a monster that she already was. Encouraged her psychopathic nature. Somehow, Heaven thinks that maybe her eyes wouldn’t look so dead hadn’t she met him. (Let’s be honest, she was a monster before but he did make her worse)

2) He tried to assault her the day of their wedding when she said she wasn’t sure she wanted to marry him.

3) And finally… She hates him for making her fall hard. So hard that she cannot stand how weak she still feels when she thinks about him. So hard that the simple memories of his onyx eyes, sickly sweet smile and divine touch make her sick in the stomach. So hard that she often sees his little quirks in herself. He’s corrupting her, haunting her. He’s an infection. An open wound that would never heal. Yes, she hates him because she hates herself for still loving him and knowing that a huge part of her would desperately love and need him forever.

Tagging those who knows best about him: @justrainandcoffee @zablife @mischievouslittlecreature @peakyswritings @darklydeliciousdesires @evita-shelby

Heaven is Reader in the Arthur Shelby x Reader ongoing series Heaven in Your Eyes.

[cryingpariah]

Gonna have to project on Dragon a little bit to get by today (like I don’t already).

Sometimes he calls his mom because he’s just… tired. Bone deep, soul-crushingly, heartbreakingly tired. Wishing all of this could stop for a little while and let him rest. Wishing it had never started to begin with. Wishing he could pass this burden on to someone else and walk away. Wishing anybody else could have been the one to wage this war.

He doesn’t want to do this anymore…

He just wants to go home…

He knew no one would answer. He knew it but there was a comfort in it he couldn’t properly explain. Maybe it was cruel or even masochistic but hearing Blanca dial a little flicker of hope settled into his stomach, maybe, maybe she would pick up and be alive and give him the advice and comforted he so sorely needed. Of course all he got was the answer mechanism on the snail (that hadn’t been damaged much in that apparent raid). Maybe worst of all was that it was the family snail and so the voice that greeted him wasn’t just hers but his Tayta, his brother, his sister, him. His own voice startled him. It was lighter and full of a joy he could no longer claim as his own. He listens as the family that no longer existed told him that they were probably too busy to come to the snail currently but please do leave a message and they get right back to him!

“Probably.” His father's voice chimed in his usual gleeful but unhelpful manner. Dragon heard a little smack before his Mamay's voice came back.

“We will. I’ll make sure of it.”

BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!

Shit, that was his cue to say something! He quickly cleared his throat (accidentally trigger a light coughing fit) before starting to speak.

“Ma- *Koff* Mamay it's me, Dragon. I, uh, could really use some help right now. I’m just…so tired of everything Mamay. That’s not to say I think what I did was a mistake! It’s just….the fight continues to wage on. Good people, scared people, they look to me for the answers that I don’t have. Sometimes I wonder if I should have just stayed home and been a farmer. I’m not nearly as good as you were but- are, I meant are. I-I'm sorry. I don’t think you’re- I’m sure you’re-.”

He sighed, heavy and worn from the world and its sadistic need to inflict every pain and sorrow on him. He quickly ran a hand down his face, wordlessly wiping the stray tears that found their way down. Outside, a light drizzle had begun.

“Sorry, sorry I just…sorry. I don’t intend to give up, not ever it’s just…I never realized you could be so tired. I wanna lie down and just once not worry about budget or deadlines or whatever crockshit the World Government has decided next. Did you get tired too? Somehow I get the feeling you bore it better than I ever could. If-…If I did run, would you be disappointed in me? You always told me to finish what you start but I feel so empty Mamay. I wish you were here, I wish we were all together again, so you could all look at me and tell me I’m being a silly little overthinker. I wish you could meet Sabo, you’d love him to bits I know. I wish…I wish I could have introduced you to Luffy-.”

*BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP*

A cool automated voice spoke out to him.

“End of message. If you are satisfied with your message click 1, if you wish to delete your message click 2.”

He came back into focus to the feeling of a watery eyed Blanca nuzzling his hand and cooing softly. He scratched her chin before hesitantly pressing 1.

[zeb-z]

missa, after his self resentment and lamenting about how he doesn’t feel worthy or like he should be accepted, after telling himself and the capybaras that he doesn’t have a home, not really - after all is said and done, he returns to phil & missa, leaving his mini mi in the house on the wall. as if he’d consider anywhere other than the house he shared with phil safe enough. seeking out safety and home brought him right back where he started.

something about how despite his internal conflicts and issues about what he thinks he deserves, he’ll still come back. and for all he worries that he is not enough to be loved in return, his name is still on the warp stone.

[lindaeastman]

i thought turning 30 my grandma was going to give me a card and some money which is cool obviously but instead she gave me her grandma’s ring aka my great great grandma’s ring and it’s from the 1920s at the latest maybe even 1910s I can’t tell and it fits my finger perfectly and it was seriously owned by my grandma’s grandma like what 🥲 i never met my grandma’s mom let alone her grandmother are you kidding me. i cried like a little bebe