#so long as everyone acts very normal in the aftermath

[separatist-apologist]

Serious Tamlin meta question. Do you think it’s possible that Tamlin’s betrayal of Rhys pre-ACOTAR was sparked by jealousy towards his friend, in addition to being pressured by his father and brothers? Because I can’t help but wonder if there was some simmering resentment there that made Tamlin’s self-justification of murdering his friend easier to swallow, especially as Rhys had the one thing that Tamlin didn’t: a family that loved him and had his back.

Adding on to this, I love the parallels between Tamlin and Feyre regarding their families: both were the third, overlooked child that suffered neglect/abuse at the hands of their siblings and father; both had distant mothers that favoured their spousal relationship with their fathers over concern for their children; both grew up without the love they needed, and while they found comfort in their shared pain, they weren’t able to give it to each other in the end. I know there’s a lot of talk of Tamlin idealizing Feyre to the point of blindness, but Feyre was guilty of this too to an extent, and I think this more than anything is what doomed their relationship (and thank god Rhys and the Inner Circle came in to show our poor girl what a loving family could actually be!).

I thought the explanation Tamlin and Rhys both give is Tamlin simply lacks power? He wants to be Rhys's friend, but he's also in the middle of a war and he is beholden to his own High Lord. So when his father comes to him and demands information, can Tamlin say no? I don't think he could.

I don't think Tamlin divulges that information from a place of malice or even resentment/jealousy. I think he does because he's a solider and soldiers obey orders. That's not a justification, merely an explanation. It's clear he feels regret for what happened, but in this moment, both Rhys and Tamlin have made fatal errors. They're on opposing sides of a war- Rhys should have known better than to tell his enemies son ANYTHING he didn't want repeated, and Tamlin should have tried harder to prevent innocent civilians from being murdered based on knowledge he himself provided (he must have known what was about to happen).

I like your analysis of Tamlin and Feyre's relationship. I do think they were looking at each other through rose tinted glasses and had put the other on a pedestal, at least in the beginning. Both Feyre AND Tamlin are the others saviors to some degree. Tamlin takes the burden of providing for her family off of her and lets Feyre explore true safety for the first time in her life. I would argue Feyre doesn't really have a strong sense of self when she first meets him, and here is this man who wants to take care of her. After a lifetime of feeling neglected, of starvation, and the stress of "if I fail, everyone dies", that must have seemed like paradise at first.

And I think Tamlin sees Feyre as the potential savior of his home- the woman who will free them if he provides her with a little kindness and attention. I would argue that Feyre and Tamlin are never on an equal playing field because he conceals his intentions from the start, but I won't argue that he didn't come to love her deeply.

I just don't think they ever really understood each other. They met during the worst periods of their respective lives and they bonded over their trauma, but who you are when you're just surviving isn't who you are when you're thriving, if that makes sense? What Feyre needed as a starving, desperate human is not what she needed when she had the safety to really come into her own. And who Tamlin was when he needed to free his home wasn't who he was when he was back to full power.

And once they were out of the worst of it, you see the cracks forming.

[avonne-writes]

HS AU - If Broken Things ended differently

TW: suicide attempt and aftermath

Long post of my ramblings to @hogans-heroes below 🖤

If Gale had jumped off the bridge - and survived - he’d have been taken to a hospital first to be stabilized physically.

It would be so painful and traumatizing for Bucky to wake up like it’s a normal day, text Gale good morning and add some silly thoughts as the morning goes on but get no reply. He thinks it's strange, but figures perhaps Gale's not getting the notifications.

Bucky goes to school, waits for Gale at the place where they usually meet when they go to school separately, but Gale doesn’t show and still doesn’t answer any messages.

Bucky calls him, no reply. He asks some of his friends if they heard from Gale, all say no. Gale's last text to Bucky was a new movie trailer or something, nothing that indicates something wrong. In panic now, Bucky goes to a secluded place, doesn’t give a fuck about the class he’s skipping, and calls his mom.

Georgia can tell that something is very wrong. Bucky is hyperventilating, confused, anxious. She tries to calm him down and tells him she'll call Gale's mom.

Gale’s mom actually picks up and tells her that Gale was found by the river by someone walking their dog, that he nearly drowned and that they don’t know how he fell. They're at the hospital and waiting for him to wake up in the ICU. They don’t know if there's brain damage from hypoxia and how badly his spine is hurt.

Georgia tells Gale's mom that she and John are going to go there immediately. She takes a few calming breaths and tries to consider very carefully what she should tell Bucky.

She calls him back, he picks up instantly. Then she tells him that Gale has been in an accident and he’s in the hospital now, but his condition is stable, and that she's going to come pick Bucky up and take him there. Bucky starts crying and tries to ask her more questions but she says she doesn’t know more and that she'll be there soon, "everything will be okay, honey."

In the ICU, Gale's getting non-invasive mechanical ventilation because of the lung injury he sustained while nearly drowning. He has a neck brace and various scrapes on his body from debris carried by the river. He had hypotermia, but they have brought his temperature back to normal at this point. He wakes up by the time Bucky and Georgia get to the hospital.

Bucky struggles to stop crying all the way to the hospital. This is his worst nightmare come true, and he’s in complete shock, but there’s also a terrible dread inside him that says this wasn’t an accident.

Both of Gale's parents are at the hospital. Bucky and Georgia don't know how to act around them. Gale's dad is severely hungover and reeks, but he also seems to be in shock, and his mom is crying. The two are not comforting each other. Bucky clings to his mom's hand.

Georgia also called Neil on her way to collect Bucky, and he wanted to join them immediately but she told him it's not a good idea. He will be waiting at home.

Finally, a doctor calls them into his office to tell them what's going on. He says Gale's awake but very tired and confused, but they hope it's only temporary and that there's no brain damage. First priority is to get him to breathe on his own again. He also talks about the spinal injury, and that, again, tests are needed to see if there's any paralysis, although early signs are positive and Gale's moving his hands.

He says it's clear that Gale fell into the water from an elevated place, probably a bridge, suggesting possible suicide attempt. However... they found bruising on his face that's inconsistent with his other injuries and looks rather like a handprint from a hard slap. So, the police will be notified.

Gale's parents try to protest this actually, which confirms to Bucky that they hurt Gale, so he starts going off at them, but the doctor intervenes before it could escalate and tells everyone to calm down. He understands that this is a tense situation, but they should all focus on Gale.

Only two people at once are allowed to visit Gale in the ICU at first. He’s able to talk while on ventilation but it's difficult, and he actually doesn’t want to talk. He’s miserable and filled with shame, regret, and the wish to just disappear.

First, Gale's parents go in for a limited time - 15 min maybe - then Bucky and Georgia. Gale tries to move when Bucky comes in, but due to everything going on, he can’t do much. Bucky holds his hand, kisses it and cries, and Georgia strokes Gale's hair. Gale mumbles that he’s sorry.

Naturally, Bucky wants to stay with him overnight. There’s no way he’s letting Gale out of his sight again or leaving him with only his parents. But it's not a good idea, it’s better if he gets some rest, it helps Gale rest too. Gale's mom stays with Gale, everyone else goes home (Bucky has to be dragged away basically).

Once home, Bucky can’t sleep. His mind can’t stop spinning, going over everything that happened, how it's all his fault. Georgia holds him on the couch and she and Neil try to comfort him. For the first time since Bucky's dad left, Bucky ends up sleeping in his mom's bed because he’s so distressed. Neil sleeps in the guest room.

Gale's moved to a normal hospital unit the next day - and he’s on suicide watch. As soon as he’s physically healthy enough, he’s moved to a mental health ward.

Meanwhile, child protection services knock on the Clevens' door. Gale is very close to being 18, so by the time the legal process gets anywhere, he’s already an adult.

I think he’s discharged from the psych ward not long before Christmas. He’s still wearing a spine brace, but he’s getting better. I think an agreement is reached with Gale's parents, so he moves in with Bucky and Georgia instead of going home.

I think Gale's near-drowning and the investigation might actually prompt Gale's mom to divorce Gale's dad in this version of the AU. She's never going to be mother of the year, but maybe he and Gale can build a better relationship in the future.

There's a long recovery ahead of Gale, especially mentally, but Bucky is there to support him all along, even though his own issues are triggered too.

This is how I imagine the story would go if Gale had decided to jump that night on the bridge.

[lucabyte]

i am looking at nohats au 👀 please share more

So! NoHats! I'm going to grab you and use this to ramble. A Lot.

The NoHats AU is @samhainian's it's just that I'm the strange little freak who takes the words said unto me and executes on them. But I can still do a little explainer on what our overall thoughts and vibes are. (And, that we are in fact propping up a little box with some cheese under it here. 🪤 Please (PLEASE) feel free to pick up what we're putting down.)

We're far from the only ones exploring a "what if siffrin fucking died" AU, though the main difference with NoHats is the placement of the death in the timeline. Instead of being 'Mal Du Pays Wins' or 'Act 6 encounter goes horribly wrong', the death is… Just after the (literal) falling action.

(This placement is because Sam is a comic book fan who thus has become used to characters being ripped away at the cruelest times by shitty writers. THANK FUCKING GOD adrienne is not that and isat is delightful yippieee, but, back on topic.)

Giving the party the full understanding of What Happened that you get by putting the death after black hole siffrin, but before the A6 encounter leaves an interesting gap to be filled. See, making Siffrin's death very much not Loop's fault means that… this once again reads (when not read as simply a tragedy...) as the universe doing what it sees fit to fulfull Loop's wish… Thus making Siffrin's death Loop's fault again, but only in their eyes. And only in a way they could express if they were honest about who they were…

And this is where having had excuse to waffle about my general Postcanon Loop thoughts the other day comes in handy, because Sam and I have that as our canon-compliant reading to begin with, NoHats plays off of a lot of the same readings of Loop's character. Namely: Uh Oh Somebody's Lying By Fucking Omission Again. (BECAUSE TO BE FAIR THIS TIME… HOW THE FUCK WOULD YOU HANDLE THAT?)

Now, neither Sam nor I are fanfic writers, so this has been a little bit trapped in our heads and DMs (and my unfinished art but,)

But our thoughts on how NoHats like… Goes.

Siffrin's death is peaceful, but that does not mean the aftermath of it is. I can't imagine the party takes it well, especially after understanding the circumstances of the Loops. (And, of note, in A5 where nobody had the discussion on what to do with each other's bodies should something happen…) But I'd imagine it traumabonds them somewhat (understatement of the century) and now knowing how the rest of the party feels, they resolve to travel together for the forseeable future.

The party track down Loop to deliver the terrible news, since they were clearly Siffrin's friend too, and invite Loop along to travel at least long enough to (let them grieve) get the burial over with. Loop, here, can be helpful in knowing what Siffrin would've wanted where the party would be at a loss. Loop, I think, takes a bit of a lead on the funerary aspects of it all, because, um. (Performing rites on your own body, huh?)

Then, as things are after a death, life just… Kind of has to continue on as normal. The party travel, pick up Nille, and get to know Loop as this mysterious new person. Maybe in this situation they might stay in Bambouche for a while to give Bonnie more stability since. They are probably taking it the worst. It would've come out of absolutely nowhere for everyone in the party obviously but god, for a kid? For A Kid?

It should be stated NoHats is not intended to be grimdark, just y'know. An exploration of grief. This is also why it's got a bit of a lopsided focus on Bonnie vs the rest of the party because hhrrhghghhghghhhghhghhh <- incoherent

Now, a crossroads.

How does the party discover Loop to be Siffrin? How long does it take. How much have the party embraced them as part of the family (especially with something as intense to bond over as this)?

There's the Odile option. Have her put it together and have to bring it up somehow. This could also be done by Isabeau, perhaps. He's smart. (which. God. If anything's the real Isabeau Torment Nexus it's this)

Then there's the other option batted around by Sam and I. The: The Universe Dislikes Duplicates option.

The items in the house that fzzt away when inspected. The Universe doesn't like there to be two of something, at least not when they're acknowledged. But one of something is just fine…?

Which is to say. I'm not a personal proponent of 'Loop getting their body back'. EXCEPT …… except this one time.

There's only one Siffrin now, so they don't need to be obfuscated to exist.

Consider, if you will. Loop swallowing their guilt for long enough to be comfortable. Falling back into old habits. Without another Siffrin around to compete for the niche of, they actually begin to act like Siffrin again. Not intentionally, it's just… The party is as welcoming as they've always been. And the party swears they keep catching glimpses of a face under all the light.

Then, one day, while still not fully human again, the resemblence becomes undeniable. Loop having not even noticed until everyone looks at them like they've seen a ghost.

Has it been months? How long have they kept up this lie? Is it even a lie, to them? They're Loop. But they were, once, Siffrin.

Even after explaining it, does that make it better or worse?

Bonnie cuts through the betrayed, struck-nerve reactions with a sobering "I missed you."

… Anyway !

Yeah so that's the vibe for NoHats. As for LoopLoops? That's more nebulous. I think it can go anywhere really in the NoHats timeline. I err personally toward the "Loop continuously replays the last 10 minutes before Siffrin's death almost immediately after they find out and have to parkour their ass up the House in the most distressing situation possible to try and get them to hold on, just please hold on." (Remember! Siffrin can remember the contents of Loop's loop backs in the A6 fight!)

But there is the possibility that this happens months, or worse years down the road. One last Loop back. Throw it all away for the chance to just get that one thing you didn't know you even wanted but now know you NEED.

Misc:

Okay miscellaneous time.

This is where I admit that I have a bunch of unfinished NoHats art that I haven't gotten around to yet because I feel like a right tool being so obviously Loop-Centric with my fancontent (I AM . . I REALISE I AM NOT DOING MUCH TO BEAT THE ALLEGATIONS.) So like if people want to see that please say because euaghghghhfh <- the nervous.

this is like the most fucked up place to do isaloop fr. anyway.

one of Sam's mid-game observations that I'm just going to share for no particular reason is that Bonnie's hair shares a bunch of shapes with Siffrin's. The flick up at the top, the 3 pronged shape of the fringe… just something to think about.

Without 2 Siffrins around to compare each other to it'd likely be a lot harder to notice Loop's similarities. Doesn't mean that those similarities don't sting more in this context though.

If you do NoHats without LoopLoops. The concept of this all fading into memory years down the line while they just have slightly-glowy but otherwise regular Siffrin hanging out is fucked up to think about. Just like real grief. Augh

6. a peek into the original dms as a treat from us

[buckrecs]

Love your blog so much. Literally check your blog everyday.

Can you pls do secret relationship with bucky recs.

Thank you so much. Appreciate it so much💕

Secret Relationship

masterlist | req masterlist

The Secret Life of Bucky Barnes by @dilemmaontwolegs

A glimpse into life as Bucky’s secret girlfriend.

Family First by @dilemmaontwolegs

You and Bucky decided from the start you would be safer if no one knew about you or your child.

Secret Relationship by @invisibleanonymousmonsters

bucky is always disappearing from the compound and everyone figures that it's bucky being bucky.. but he's visiting his civilian girlfriend and knows that she'll be in danger the moment they go public so he doesn't even tell the team about her.. and their circumstances of meeting could be in the aftermath of some Avengers thing?

Who’s She? by @itsapeterthing

when sam gets injured during a mission and isn’t able to go to a hospital, bucky brings him and natasha to his own home to get cared for by his girlfriend, y/n, who he’s been keeping a secret.

Bucky’s Got Game | Doc’s Got Game by @real-jane

Bucky's got a crush, and Sam's a little worried about whether or not he's gonna see it to fruition.

Our Family by @imaginativeavengers

After a long mission, Steve is forced to make an emergency landing and reveal a secret about Bucky not many people know.

Pocket Angel by @buckyalpine

Where does Bucky keep sneaking off to? 

Secrets by @buckyalpine

Nothing will stop you from dating your super soldier 

Imagine by @buckyalpine

drabble by @buckyalpine

Secret Girlfriend by @jenwritesstories

Steve thinks Bucky has been acting weird lately, and after asking him what's going on, he takes matters into his own hands and follows him.

Hands Off | Not so Hands Off by @buckysgoldenheart

You’re Steve’s cousin and he has some rules when it comes to you that Bucky isn’t a fan of. Mainly, that he can’t have you.

promises, promises by @insomniumstella

The line between love and hate has always been thin.

About Time by @vanillanaps

Coming clean about being in a relationship with your brothers best friend is never easy—or is it?

Revelations by @writingsoftheloser

Some things cannot stay hidden for long.

Beautiful Ballerina by @imaginesmai

Hiding your relationship with Bucky from the world was not easy. The worst part of it was hiding it from the mightiest heroes in the world; the Avengers.

Sneaking Around by @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky

You live with your big brother Steve and his best friend Bucky, doing all you can to hide your secret relationship with Bucky.

Lipstick Stained Swain by @coffee-with-bucky

You and Bucky are caught red-handed, or more like red-stained when your secret relationship comes to light.

Marked by @jadedvibes

Your secret relationship is nearly exposed when Natasha spots Bucky's neck covered in hickeys.

I Will Always Pick You Up by @eviesaurusrex

Usually, Bucky would pick her up wherever she is, but today, with a night out with some of her fellow Avengers (and her brother), it wasn’t possible that her secret boyfriend could come and pick her up, would it?

Secret Girlfriend by @buckyhoney

Bucky has a secret girlfriend.

A Benched Bucky by @dabblinginmarvel

Due to her health conditions, Bucky is very protective over the girlfriend his team doesn’t know about.

Team Bucky by @subwaysurf45

your secret relationship with Bucky slips out. Everyone else in the compound is happy for you both but your brother - or really your grandfather - is not pleased at all, all you can do is try and live normally with Bucky and attempt to fix things with Steve.

fondue by @duuhrayliegh

bucky and steve’s daughter have been dating secretly for over half a year, this is how steve finds out.

Secret Relationship by @espinosaurusrexex

Sneaky by @malum-forev

Bucky has been acting extremely suspicious recently and Sam and Steve have noticed, but what they find out isn't the answer they were expecting.

Secrets Are No Fun by @angstysebfan

You and Bucky have been in a hidden relationship for awhile. You’re ready to tell your friends, he’s not. What happens is a bunch of angsty chaos.

favorite little secret by @writingsbychlo

you’re dating bucky barnes secretly. here’s how it goes.

Dress by @breadqueen95

bucky and y/n’s relationship is new, and they don’t want to share with their friends just yet. but something as simple as a dress can change anyone’s mind, even the winter soldier.

headcanon by @breadqueen95

bucky barnes secret relationship with a civilian

D

j

d

d

.

d

dd

After a long mission, Steve is forced to make an emergency landing and reveal a secret about Bucky not many people know.

[aihoshiino]

chapter 145 thoughts!

what even was this chapter, y'all. i'm getting a migraine.

While it certainly wasn't actively bad, it basically hits on enough of the issues I've been having with the Movie Arc that if you've been reading my chapter reviews lately, you could probably write this one yourself. Weird pacing, skipping over interesting parts of the movie, continued framing of AQRB as a shallow gag and failing to follow on any of the implied development from or literally any referenced fallout of the kiss in 143? It's all here, babes. It would ultimately just be boring and redundant for me to go over all that at length again, so I won't.

I will however say that I'm pretty disappointed we're blasting through what had the potential to be some really interesting bits of postmortem characterization for Ai, even filtered through 15YL. I don't mind the manga breezing past scenes we saw firsthand but like… how did Ai react when she realized she was pregnant? How did she feel, especially given that Spica once again emphasized her longing for a family of her own? IDK. The way the story is suddenly jolting forwards in these last few chapters and skipping such huge chunks of Ai's life ultimately feels very strange and I don't know what to make of it yet.

Everyone reacting to Crow Girl's acting was pretty funny though I'm kind of exhausted with Ruby's Gaga-For-Oniichansensei Gag Character flanderization. IDK if my tolerance for it is just decreasing or if it really is amping up, but at least in the 125-137 stretch I at least got the sense that they could be in the same room and have a normal conversation but ever since 139, it feels that bit more relentless. I imagine this would be less irritating if we knew how the aftermath of 143 had played out but it really seems like the manga is going to drag this out until we're all old and grey.

THAT SAID, this chapter does confirm that Aqua's hoshigan stayed white after that chapter and… eh. Who even knows what that means lol. It does at least imply that his talk with Ruby has brought him back to Baseline Aqua but Baseline Aqua is still a guy with every single mental illness on planet earth so I don't know if that's the world's biggest W quite yet. It certainly implies an improvement over double black hoshigan but… again, with Aqua being so totally cut off from the readers this whole arc and no idea of what happened in the aftermath of 143, it's impossible to make a meaningful guess as to wtf is going on with Aqua right now.

Oh yeah, uh. This chapter also I guess constitutes the reveal of how the AQRB reincarnation happened. I guess LMAO. Honestly, I don't have much to say about it other than it feels like a bit of an anticlimax for me? The idea works fine, the execution just left me… idk. Whelmed at best, underwhelmed at most. I feel like this backstory and the implied deep fondness for GRSR -> AQRB it implies doesn't really like up with the personality she displays in the Private arc but like, I kind of feel like she was tossed into the story without Akasaka having a clear idea as to what her role was even going to turn into so maybe that's not a surprise LOL

I will say I'm glad this seems to quash the theory that Aqua and Ruby were secretly capital-G Gods, instead framing it as a Tsuru no Ongaeshi type return of kindness to two otherwise mundane people. There was some fun fan theorizing around the idea, but for me personally, Oshi no Ko is most interesting when it focuses on that aspect of the story Akasaka highlighted in an interview recently, of human relationships being warped by the entertainment industry and I think an explosion of the emotional stakes to the cosmic scale of AQRB (or tbh any of the characters) being Secretly Gods All Along would be a bit of a shark jump for me and would really shift away from what I like about the series most.

That's kind of it for this one…! Not really a lot to say about this chapter, which is why most of this review was me explaining why I didn't have a lot to say about it.

[idontknowreallywhy]

A particularly lovely chord progression somehow ended up with me driving a wedge between Earth and Sky and I promised I’d try to fix it.

Super long car journey today presented an opportunity but events got away from me and I accidentally made it worse. Oops… um… I’m sorry? Apologies to @ajpendragon @alexthefly @astranite @janetm74 @sofasurf and anyone else who asked for a fix and will remain disappointed for now…

Piano Angst - the aftermath

It had been nearly a week and Scott felt like he was missing a limb.

Virgil was definitely avoiding him.

It wasn’t that they hadn’t seen each other - they’d worked together perfectly normally on several rescues. They’d both joined in the usual banter over mealtimes. There had even been a family film night - albeit, instead of joining Scott on their usual couch, Virgil had squeezed in with the Tinies and spent the evening competing with Gordon as to who could wind up Alan the most about his movie choice.

But they’d not been alone in the same room. At least, not for more than the few seconds it took for Virgil to make some excuse and leave it.

He’d even apparently conscripted Gordon into constantly keeping him company whilst he did maintenance on Two. Despite all Scott’s loitering around the hangar, the Fish never seemed to get the hint to make himself scarce. Except that one time when Scott had hinted at the availability of leftover pizza in the kitchen but then Virgil had raced off hot on Gordon’s heels. Which would not have been of any note whatsoever if it hadn’t been for that momentary flash of panic Scott was sure had crossed Virgil’s face as Gordon jumped to his feet.

It wasn’t just the lost chance to really TALK to his brother either. There was a physical distance too which was almost more painful. It turned out that Virgil’s elbow nudges at dinner, his arm across Scott’s shoulders as they walked across the lounge, his habit of stretching out and throwing his feet over big brother’s legs when they had a moment to chill together on the couch… these felt as natural and as essential to Scott as eating or drinking and he missed it more than he could have explained. It made his jaw hurt.

He had figured he just had to give Virgil time and be available when he was ready. So he’d made a conscious effort to *not* be working whenever they had downtime, hovering in the communal areas and looking un-busy. He rushed through the paperwork later, once everyone was in bed and then stayed up for hours each night studying the last couple of month’s worth of mission logs and recordings, desperately trying to work out what had triggered… whatever it was… the other day.

He’d been lying, Scott was certain of that. Ironically that certainty had made him very uncertain of everything else - Virgil never lied to him. He was awful at it. Honesty usually shone out of his big puppy-like brown eyes. When he was withholding something they were clouded with guilt.

But to invoke their mother’s memory as a cover-up?

It must have been serious.

His research efforts turned up nothing at all out of the ordinary other than it had actually been a pretty successful run of rescues, a bit of a reprieve from the average. He couldn’t find any aspect of the scenarios they’d faced that seemed like it might have particularly upset his brother.

It had to have something to do with him. Virgil was acting perfectly normally with everyone else. He re-listened to every interaction they’d had over the comm. Had he been too brusque in directing the rescues recently? Was his tone wrong? He didn’t think he sounded any different although after a while his own voice really began to grate on him. Virgil’s responses seemed normal and he didn’t appear to react to anything in a negative way. Perhaps his brother was maybe a little quieter on the comm than usual… should he have noticed that sooner?

Or had he embarrassed him by making it clear he’d noticed him getting carried away that afternoon? But Virgil had never seemed to be worried about Scott witnessing his piano binges before - most of the worst more-recovery-than-rescue missions had been thrashed out on the piano over the years… No. The only way to find out was to ask him directly.

He hovered at the door of the hangar, took a couple of breaths to slow his galloping heart rate and pushed it ajar. He could hear Gordon talking at a mile a minute about something to do with aquaculture and Virgil was leaning up against a pod module with a politely interested look on his face. His eyes flicked briefly over to his eldest brother but didn’t linger, instead focussing firmly back on little brother with renewed focus.

Scott felt rather like he’d taken a grapple to the chest and backed out, closing the door softly behind him. He ignored the elevator and elected for the long slow trudge up the stairwell. By the time he made it to the lounge his vision was blurry and he had reached the limit of what he could bear. He found a sheet of notepaper from the desk drawer and scribbled a note. He folded it precisely in half, opened it again and checked it, then refolded it, running a shaking thumb along the edge. He tucked it underneath the door to his brother’s bedroom on the way to his own.

Virgil, I’ve upset you and I can’t for the life of me work out when or how it was in order to apologise properly - but please know I am so sorry.

I’ll be on my balcony the rest of the evening if you want to talk.

I miss you. S x

[weekend-whip]

Ninjago Fic Rec Week: Day 6

Prompts: Dynamic Duos / Zane Recs! (I uh used up a lot of my dynamic duo recs already THUS here is a Zane-centric list. With perhaps some duos sprinkled in. But Mostly Zane.)

Zane Recs-

My Battery is Low (And It's Getting Dark): THE PEAKEST ZANE THAT EVER PEAKED!!! There's so many little pieces of this I could quote and quote and gnaw on forever (and I wILL) because mmmm. It's just so good. Zane being (mostly) alone with his thoughts prior to Vex interfering in NS11, with the most pointed Zane's perspective I have ever borne witness to *bows in respect*

upon these ashes, hope can grow: Or, five times the group ordered takeout and one time they didn't (or, Zane learns how to love his once-favorite pastime once again). It's snappy, well-placed, and oozes with Zane's character, although I'm so used to fluffy fics about Zane's cooking skills that this one hit me like a brick! But, that would make sense, given that it takes place after NS11 ;w;

Five Times Zane Was a Nurse: And the one time he wasn't! Ninjago is a really good series for 5+1 fics, lemme tell ya. And DietCokeIsLife definitely sits at the top of t hem!

Fractal: Zane reflects upon being a robot Nindroid and it is beautiful ;w;

MAKING ELECTRICITY// YOU CAN FEEL IT IN YOUR MIND: Zane gets struck by lightning and a cacophony of very vivid descriptions and punchy character moments follow after. A little bit bittersweet, but lovely and with a nice ending!

Cut the Act: A movie!verse Zane fic chronicling how this once "just a normal teen" has to explain what he really is to his friends...even if he is pretty sure they already know. ...Maybe. The ending made me grin like an idiot, though.

Backwards Compatibility: Zane and Pixal go on a date for the first time! ...despite being "together" for such a long time beforehand. They're still very sweet, though. Recc'ing this entirely for the snappy title ;P

From Sunrise: Zane, and the view of what the world looks like from his eyes compared to that of his friends (or, Zane likes waking up early and cold environments. Everyone else does not.)

Snow: POST-PILOTS ZANE with his cold snow day logic getting in the way of some realities for Cole and Jay. Extremely fluffy and full of fun and interesting dynamics and just all-around super cute~!!! (and Kai and Nya are there too <3)

doesn't have a title but Zane is curious to a fault: And that's all you need to know! But, I will tell you that the ending has such a glorious bite of bitter irony to it~

Wobble: Zane and Cole discuss some aftermaths of Cole's fault, all while guilt eats Zane alive. The uneasy TENSION in this one??? Delicious??? Also sad ;w;

more title-less goodness: Zane and Cole discuss the former's break up with Pixal, with neither mentioning the underlying implications in between. You know I love me some Zane and Cole interaction, but this one is zested with, like, dread and a really good, if not somewhat devastating, point to be made.

Crushing loneliness is what he leaves this world with: *lies down* How does spinchip always have such a way with words aaaaaaa (prose about Zane's S3 sacrifice that consumes my mind constantly)

Ship of Theseus: AUGH I ALMOST FORGOT THIS ONE, despite the fact I go back to it aaaaaaaaall the time????? Definitely counts as a Zane fic despite the fact he is "Unavailable" for most of it, but in the quest to get Zane back online from an anonymous viral attack, the group reflects on the Nindroid and the impact he's had on all of them, even outside of their own little group ;w; Also shoutout to the antagonist for this one, it's actually quite a fun little twist~

[duhragonball]

Chainsaw Man ch.71-74

Awww, he got himself a li'l treat!

So this is the aftermath of the whole Germany's Santa Claus arc, and I'm still kind of reeling from that brief stop in hell that happened in the middle of it. Makima was able to bring the main cast back, but we really only saw her, Denji, and Quanxi in all of that. At one point, Denji asked what happened to Power and the rest, and we didn't really get an answer.

Here, we finally find out. I just assumed everyone came back from hell without the damage they sustained there. I'm not sure why I thought that, except that Makima took a sword to the gut as she got them all back to Earth, and she didn't seem to have that wound when she returned. Denji was back to normal, but that probably doesn't mean anything. Likewise, Quanxi was still decapitated, but that didn't slow her down much. Her two minions were shown to be dead, but so much was going on that I didn't notice.

I guess I mostly assumed the damage done by the Darkness Devil wouldn't "count", because the very first thing he did was remove everyone's arms, and that just seems like the sort of thing you'd only do in a dream sequence, or some scenario with an "undo". But no. Aki returned to Earth with his arms still removed. Apparently his arms came back with him, and somehow one of them could be reattached, but not the other. That raises more question than answers, honestly.

Angel Devil returned the same way, except neither of his arms could be reattached. As for Violence Fiend and Beam the Shark Fiend, well they're just dead. The Spider Fiend was also there, but Aki doesn't mention her, and it's possible he never knew she was there. I already mentioned Quanxi and her companions, and that just leaves Kobeni, who resigned from Public Safety. No word on her physical condition.

No, wait. I forgot about Power. She seems to be fine, except she's deeply traumatized by the whole experience. I get the sense that the overwhelming power of the Darkness Devil just got to her, and she's constantly terrified that he's lurking in the shadows, ready to finish her off at any moment.

At some point during Aki's convalescence, Makima suggested that she and Denji could still go on that trip to Enoshima by themselves, but Denji decides he can't do it, because Power's a nervous wreck and he doesn't feel right leaving her alone.

We get a lot of scenes of Denji taking care of Power and just kind of being there for her. Once Aki gets back on his feet, he helps, and the two of them just sort of help her work through this. Power's kind of an odd duck, but I don't think there's anything unusual about her recovery. She just needs to put some temporal distance between herself and what happened. Gradually, she gets more and more comfortable with the idea that Darkness Devil isn't going to get her. The important thing in all of this is that Denji and Aki are supporting her through the process, feeding her and bathing with her as needed. Aki once despised her for being a devil, and Denji once found her barely useful at best, so things have come a long way for the three of them.

One night Power offers to let Denji drink her blood, which I guess is sort of a gesture of goodwill between devils and/or fiends, since they use blood to regenerate. Denji hesitates, but she really wants him to do it, so he does, and considers how this is extremely intimate but not romantic or sexual at all. His realtionship with Power has deepened considerably, but they're not a couple or fuckbuddies or anything like that.

Later on, Aki goes on a trip to his family's grave in Hokkaido. Denji and Power invite themselves along and act like huge dorks the whole time. Aki is dismayed, but he later admits that their presence distracted him from his malaise, so that's a plus.

Upon his return he has lunch with Captain Kishibe, and asks if his group can be kept out of the upcoming final battle with the Gun Devil. Kishibe seems supportive, but reminds Aki that he's wanted to be in on this from the beginning of his career in Public Safety. If he bows out now, he'll never find out what happened, because the Gun Devil's location, status, and ultimate fate will be kept top secret.

But Aki's mind is made up. He seems worried about Denji and Power getting killed in the battle, which isn't too surprising because he's seen Himeno die before his eyes, and all those other characters who died fighting Reze, Germany's Santa Claus, and the Darkness Devil. I suppose the only reason he's not worried about Angel Devil right now is because Angel Devil can't be in the fight because he's got no arms.

One day, they're all taking a nap together, and Aki points out that Power stopped screaming in the middle of the night. Power makes up some bullshit lie about defeating the Darkness Devil when they were in hell, and it seems like she's finally getting back to her old self.

They get summoned to Makima's office where she addresses Aki's request to be left out of the Gun Devil campaign. She has no problem with Aki bowing out, but Denji and Power will definitely be participating, because they're devils placed in Makima's custody. More importantly, Denji and Power are cool with this battle. Denji will get a wish from Makima if he wins, and Power is Denji's buddy, and she's ready to back him up. So Aki changes his mind again. He's back in for the Gun Devil battle, because this is the only way he can be there for his pals.

With that settled, Makima briefs them on the Gun Devil's whereabouts and status. Turns out he's already been defeated! Well that was easy. Great job, team!

Yeah, so the Gun Devil killed over a million people across multiple locations in a span of about five minutes, and apparently he was defeated by "someone else" shortly after that. The Soviets found him unconscious later on. The thing is that the Gun Devil left a lot of his own flesh behind in the wake of his attacks. Public Safety has been collecting those chunks of flesh in an attempt to track down the Gun Devil, and various lesser devils have eaten some of the flesh to empower themselves. Well, every other country has been collecting their own Gun Devil flesh for similar reasons. 59% of the Gun Devil flesh is controlled by the U.S.A., Soviet Union, and China.

Aki is flabbergasted. If the Gun Devil's already beaten, then his entire career as a Devil Hunter was for nothing. But what about those Yazuka assassins who attacked Public Safety about thirty chapters ago? They bought their guns from the Gun Devil, didn't they?

Makima explains that they didn't. They just got them from human gun manufacturers, like everyone else. But the gun control laws are far too strict for that, right? Apparently Aki finds it easier to believe that the Gun Devil has magic arms dealer powers than the idea that a bunch of gangsters bought illegal firearms without getting caught.

Makima goes one step further, and suggests that the guns were supplied by the very governments that heavily regulate their manufacture. If she's right, then the Yazuka attack on Public Safety was arranged by one or more rival nations, just like all the assassins like Quanxi and Santa in the previous arc.

Aki is horrified to hear this, because the whole point of the gun control laws was to weaken the Gun Devil, so that those tragic attacks could never happen again. If the world's governments are distributing guns in secret, then fear of guns will persist, and the Gun Devil will grow stronger. And since so much of the Gun Devil's flesh is controlled by humans, the potency of that flesh will only increase.

So the real point of this upcoming battle is not to defeat the Gun Devil, but to secure all of the Gun Devil's flesh, so that other countries can't use it against Japan. The Gun Devil isn't the enemy, he's the prize. And since it's just humans battling over control of the prize, then this is just a war.

Later, Aki realizes the darker truth of all of this. Even if Japan wins this conflict and gets sole control of the Gun Devil's flesh, they won't destroy the Gun Devil to end the threat he poses to the world. The power is too valuable to give up, so Japan will simply keep the Gun Devil's body in custody, to use against anyone who threatens their interests.

The same would hold true if any other country emerges victorious. Or if it's a stalemate and the Gun Devil flesh is still held by multiple world powers, it's all the same outcome. The Gun Devil will never be killed this way. He'll live on forever, constantly protected by whoever possesses his flesh. And his victims, including Aki's family, will never be avenged.

Denji's a little slow on the uptake, but he realizes that this means Makima will never grant that wish she promised him.

Aki takes all of this pretty hard. He seems to be getting past the need for revenge that motivated him at the beginning of this series, but now he realizes that it will forever be denied to him, which is pretty tough to accept. And while he's found his friendship with Denji and Power to be a source of consolation, he's worried that he'll lose them too, because they're bound to fight in this upcoming conflict. Then he has a disturbing vision brought on by the Future Devil. He asks the Future Devil if the vision was a prophecy, and the Future Devil confirms it. He promises Aki that he and Power will be slaughtered by Denji, and then the "Devil that devils fear most" will appear.

So Aki goes to see the Angel Devil, I guess because he doesn't know who else to talk to. He's pretty sure Angel isn't long for this world. Having no arms, Angel can't hunt Devils in the field, and Public Safety won't have much use for him otherwise, so they'll probably kill him. Aki writes a letter recommending that Angel be kept alive in that bunker where they keep other Devils for contracts and what not, but this is all he can do.

Moved by the gesture, Angel offers to help Aki try to get to the bottom of the vision he saw, and he suggests they talk to Makima about it, since it almost certainly ties in with the Gun Devil campaign. On the way, Angel points out that Aki can always resign from Public Safety and run away from all of this to enjoy his final years in peace, but Aki refuses. Angel realizes that he's in love with Makima, and asks why he fell for her. Turns out Aki himself doesn't know the reason.

When they meet Makima, Aki explains how worried he is about Denji and Power, and begs Makima to help him find a devil contract that will help him resolve this. So Makima suggests that Aki make a contract with her. Wait, did I say "suggest"? Makima orders him to to it.

So Makima is a devil herself? It's not quite clear yet, but this wouldn't be much of a surprise. The series had been hinting all along that she's not what she seems, and she's probably not a good guy. My working theory so far is that Makima is the Gun Devil, and nothing in this installment really contradicts it. She says the Gun Devil was already defeated, but if she's secretly the Gun Devil herself, then of course she would make up a lie like that.

Mostly, I think she's the Gun Devil because we've learned so little about Makima and the Gun Devil so far, and so it would make sense if both puzzles are actually part of the same picture. The truth might end up being more complicated than that, but I definitely think I'm onto something.

When Makima orders Aki to make a contract with her, Angel suddenly recalls a memory of when he first met Makima. He had forgotten it until now, but back in the day, he was taken in by a village somewhere and felt truly welcomed by humans for the first time. Then Makima showed up and asked Angel to show her his power. No, she ordered him, just like she's ordering Aki now. And the next thing Angel knew, it was suddenly hours later, and he had demonstrated his power to Makima by draining the life force of all his friends on the island.

So now it seems clear that Makima is a villain, right? Kishibe suggested earlier that she had done horrible things for the good of humanity, but there's no longer an end goal that helps humanity, is there? She's not trying to defeat the Gun Devil, because that's already been done. She's been using all of her subordinates, and I'm pretty sure she's made a lot of them fall in love with her or something.

The one saving grace is that she seems chill when human Devil Hunters resign, but something tells me she does something horrible to them off-panel, and we're about to see some chamber of horrors somewhere with Kobeni and all the other ex-Public Safety guys chained up or whatever.

[nygmobblepot-trash]

Oh so they're just going to pretend like last episode didn't happen and go straight to finding Sylvie.

Cool.

(Rant)

Mobius and Loki almost died and we aren't going to get even a scene showing the aftermath??? Wasn't Mobius hit by the temporal aura (whatever it's called)? Didn't Mobius ask what took so long? Didn't Loki explain why he said they needed to find Sylvie after time slipping? No one said anything? Or am I supposed to believe Mobius wouldn't lose his absolute shit when he found out he almost died because Loki was too busy making googly eyes at Sylvie.

Ok. Ok. Maybe to be fair they really said nothing. In E1 Loki told Mobius very little what happened at the end of time. In E2 we see Mobius burying his feelings hard--even worse than Loki. But at least show that. Mobius in E2 seemed completely different. I get he's probably putting on an act because he really doesn't want to think about his life but come on.

Actually you know what? I think he was putting on an act for the whole episode. Call me delusional but I don't care. In the beginning, Mobius seems really happy to be looking for Sylvie. I think that was true but for other reasons. It's clear Mobius doesn't want anything to change. He doesn't want to think of a life he could've had so he needs to keep being an analyst. Before shit hit the fan that was searching for Sylvie. The whole thing is a game for him. It's why Loki was so serious and Mobius didn't really seem to care. He rather have a drink with Brad and play games. Normally Mobius wouldn't be so easily fooled but he was while Loki was the one paying attention. He's obviously going through the motions. He's happy again when he and Loki are trying to figure out the TemPad. Of course, it doesn't last long as the interrogation follows.

Let's talk about the interrogation. God I want to talk about it so bad because what the fuck. So Mobius warns Loki that Brad is an asshole (Mobius keeps swearing and I'm so here for it) and to not lose his temper. So I immediately think okay Loki is going to go off on this dude because why not? He'll do anything for Sylvie. The gang walks in and Mobius did not lie at all. Brad goes off on everyone. He's laying into Loki the most of course while Mobius keeps trying to keep Loki calm. Brad's speech also mimics several conversations Loki and Mobius had in S1. Brad basically says what Mobius said to Loki in S1. He drills that Loki is a villain and only brings suffering and pain but instead of twisting it around like Mobius did it changes into something that Loki yelled at Mobius towards the end of S1. Brad doesn't twist it into something hopeful or give Loki a choice no he tells Loki that at the end of the day he's lying to himself, that he can't play the hero. Yes that isn't exactly what Loki said to Mobius but it's eerily similar to the "lies you tell yourself" in S1. I understand if that made no sense but I'm just saying that it's super interesting to see the difference between Mobius and Brad.

Anyways so Loki starts to spiral and it seems like he's going to say fuck it. They even cut to Mobius's concerned face. I do love though that no matter what happened Mobius let Loki take the lead. Yes, he kept butting in but it seemed like he was reminding Loki that it was okay. It was like his way of proving Brad wrong. He was trying to tell Loki he trusted him and that he was with him.

I will say that Brad said the one thing I'm sure everyone in that room was thinking, "You're too obsessed with her. You need therapy." Honestly Brad you were so real for that. But he wasn't done yet. This man then had the audacity to tell Mobius to control his pet. And Mobius smiles and tells a fucking joke about Brad disappearing?? And Loki smiles at it?? I'm sorry but what is going on? Mobius I love you. I was so disappointed that they didn't let Mobius lead the interrogation because he would've rocked it. But Loki failed so Mobius said fuck it and did not disappoint. He literally got one line in and it was telling Brad he's going to disappear with a smile on his face. Mobius is ruthless.

This is where we circle back to the point I was making before... several paragraphs ago... I'm sorry. Brad goes off on Mobius and Mobius takes it for a little bit. You can tell what Brad is saying is getting to him. He's making points that even Loki is reacting too. Points that Loki should've talked to Mobius about already. It seemed like Loki was just then realizing that Mobius hadn't brought up his life at all. That Mobius had been acting like nothing was happening. Which was interesting to see. Finally, Loki seems to pay attention to Mobius for 5 seconds. Of course that's interrupted by Mobius slapping the hell out of Brad. Thus making it clear Mobius has been freaking out for a while but hiding it. They were both probably having a panic attack at the same time. The whole time Loki was running around in a panic Mobius put his fears aside and focused on Loki. It's incredibly sad. Did he feel he couldn't confide in Loki? It really hurts that this poor man had his world turn upside down and not once did Loki bother to ask him about it. Loki had to think it was odd that Mobius just stopped trying to burn down the TVA. Mobius deserves better.

I am happy that Loki stopped worrying about Sylvie for 2 seconds to chase after Mobius who clearly wasn't okay in the slightest. "He got under your skin" and "I was following you" Sir? Do you even know where you're at? Loki's dumbass doesn't know what to do either and takes Mobius to get some pie. As if that's going to fix anything. Mobius admits he lost it a little bit and Loki tries to relate and uses the battle of New York as an example of a time he lost it. ??? I'm sorry? Honey, Mobius punching someone isn't the same as you trying to conquer a city. You suck at this. Thankfully Loki cares enough to dig into why Mobius has no desire to at the very least see what his life could be like. Honestly, though Mobius's answer makes sense. Of course, he doesn't want to know. He's all about free will and deciding your own path. Why would he care what path he was on? It's a path he was supposed to be on but now he isn't. He got to escape the sacred timeline, he has always seen that as a blessing which is why he fought so hard to rescue Loki. The thing that annoys me though is Loki moves on so fast. I get he probably respects Mobius's decision. After all, if he saw a happy life that was taken from him that would suck. But why not ask what Mobius really wants to do? No one would blame Mobius if he got up and left. He now has the free will to do whatever he wants and yet he stays at the TVA. It would have been interesting for Loki to point out that Brad was kind of right. That it isn't healthy to pretend like nothing happened. I could see Mobius getting angry and pointing out that technically Loki is hiding from his reality as well. But of course, we can't spend too much time developing Mobius or his relationship with Loki, we have to get back to Sylvie.

Interrogation 2 happens and they finally get the info they wanted. The whole time I was thinking "damn this really seems like a Mobius plan," only to be proven right. Of course, Mobius immediately jumps to torturing Brad and calls it a "little bit of mischief". Again I have to ask, sir are you okay? Mobius is fucking terrifying.

I think the answer is no. When they take Brad to McDonald's Mobius is acting strange again. He's snapped back into acting like everything is okay. He ignores Sylvie and Loki talking and is being nice to Brad -- the man he punched within the last 10 minutes). Mobius is petty and as we now know hides his feelings until he explodes. He is clearly trying to distract himself with the food. Brad starts to freak out and Mobius tries to dismiss it but can't by saying that the relationship (between Loki and Sylvie) is complicated. But his petty ass can't stop there and adds that opposites attract in the same breath as him saying that Loki is in a relationship with themself. Mobius is really out there saying that opposites attract and Loki and Sylvie aren't opposites. Brad then says it's weird and I'm waiting for Mobius to agree but this man goes, "hey isn't it cool that 10 minutes ago you said I was nothing and then I punched you and got a God to torture you?" Mobius are you good? For the love of jetskis stop deflecting. You can't just torture Brad again because you're too much of a coward to talk to Loki. I will say good on Mobius for figuring out it was a trap. The slap on Brad's arm and the angry "Hey!" Will live in my mind for far too long. Like I said Mobius is scary as hell.

Lastly, I want to talk about the end (yes I'm almost done with my rant -- yay!). I hate that Sylvie continues to be pissed at Loki and the whole TVA. Loki and the others are trying their best. She didn't give them a chance. She just made a decision for everyone else and got pissy when they couldn't fix her mess. Honestly fuck right off. That's all I want to say about her. Anyways the thing that broke my heart was Loki saying, "Please, don't. It's harder to stay." I'm sorry but what the fuck does that even mean? Maybe I'm interpreting this wrong but does he mean that if she isn't around it's hard for him to stay at the TVA? If I'm right, then what the actual hell? Your friend Mobius is hanging on by a thread and you want to abandon him? You're all he has. He isn't close with hunter B15, OB, and Casey like he is with you. Mobius never once abandoned Loki. And yea I get that he does go over to Mobius and puts his hand on his shoulder but he only does it after getting rejected yet again by Sylvie. Hell Mobius probably just heard that Loki doesn't want to stick around. Are you seriously telling me that Loki is just using the TVA and Mobius to find Sylvie? At least last episode he wanted to go find her and fix the mess that she made.

Please stop chasing after someone who doesn't care about you in the slightest.

[farfromstrange]

Chaos Theory | Michael Kinsella x Reader

Chapter 20: You Showed Me Colors You Know I Can’t See With Anyone Else

Masterlist ° Chapter List

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Reader (she/her)

Summary: You tell Michael about the conversation with Birdy and deal with the aftermath.

Warnings: ANGST, this chapter hints at PTSD and mental health, Smut (18+), slight cockwarming, not proof read

Word Count: ~5.5k

A/n: I was waiting for the right moment to write smut again, and I thought why not now? There will never be a perfect time. But the angst train is also still very much in the station. Sorry for the long wait. Enjoy! (Or don’t)

(this gif does some things to me. holy mother of jesus i can’t even-)

Michael is still asleep when you walk back into the bedroom with the coffee and the bag carrying what you can now tell are the café’s best scones. 

Your thoughts are scrambled. You can’t sort them. You want to stay positive because that’s the kind of person you taught yourself to be. Misplaced hope is better than no hope at all.

You force yourself not to think too much, but that is a near impossibility in your current state. There is too much going on inside of you, holding it all back will only drain you, and that not even in the long run but as soon as you set foot out of the door.

There’s a reason you put down the pessimism a long time ago, but the reality of your situation seeps in and destroys it. It destroys everything good you’ve built for yourself; now you’re just confused and maybe a little angry, but mostly the former. Your mind has always been your worst enemy. 

You place the food and the coffee down on the nightstand and turn to Michael. He doesn’t seem to notice you. He’s either too exhausted to dream, or he did the same as you and pushed all the bad thoughts away to rest a little easier. He’s out cold.

You run a hand through his unruly hair. “Mikey,” you murmur. 

He stirs under your touch, his eyes fluttering. It takes him a few seconds to wake up and take in his surroundings, his face contorting in a sense of panic before his eyes fall on you, and he relaxes visibly. 

“Mornin’,” he grumbles.

You greet him with a soft smile. “Hey.”

He ruffles his hair. “Wha time is it?”

“Just a little after seven,” you answer. 

“Oh.” Michael looks around. He notices you sitting on the edge of the bed instead of lying next to him, and he frowns. “Why’d ya get up then?” he asks.

“Couldn’t sleep,” it’s not a complete lie, but he can tell you’re holding back.

He purses his lips, clearly not happy with you falling back into old patterns, but he can’t force you to talk. 

You disguise your feelings as something they often are not, mostly because growing up, you had to play an act at the circus that was your family, and you taught yourself to be kind, to smile and wave, to never disobey and to never question, so you disguised who you truly were and what you truly felt with a layer of pretense. You weren’t allowed to speak up or talk about your struggles, and you took that belief with you into adulthood. And although you know now that feeling and sharing those feelings isn’t a bad thing, you come with a built-in defense mechanism that grew during childhood and that can only be removed fully if someone reconstructs you and flicks the switch completely. It’s a complicated task a normal person can’t achieve; you would need help for that, help Michael alone can’t provide you because he, too, struggles with built-in mechanisms of his own that never had a chance of dismembering themselves.

When you escaped home, the circus ended, but you made it a habit to please everyone, to just get them to see you as something more than this godforsaken mess that you grew up to be deep inside, and you can’t deny that it feels like you’re nothing more than a clown most of the time. You’re walking the tightrope so close to the edge, you could fall any minute, but at least you tried. It’s always been just you trying your hardest, but it never felt like it was enough before, and it surely doesn’t feel like it now. It’s a losing game.

You can shine for Michael all you want, but he can see the darkness inside of you. He accepts it. He embraces it. He wants to love you regardless, you just don’t know how to let him.

Your lips turn down. He sees right through you. Wordlessly, he reads you like an open book and his eyes bore through your soul like piercing daggers. He takes you apart and puts you back together all at once, trying to show you that he cares and you don’t have to be afraid around him, but it’s not that easy, is it? It can’t be.

You can’t hide the truth from him forever, and you don’t want to. You physically can’t. It’s exhausting. You’re overwhelmed. You need someone to lean on or the storm will drag you under and drown you in an ocean of endless despair. You tried keeping everything far away from him before and it didn’t work. He assured you he would never judge you, so why are you holding back? Old habits die hard, but you have to learn to beat them before they kill you. 

You crawl back under the blanket and place your head on his chest. “I had a nightmare,” you admit quietly. 

He nods, seemingly satisfied with the answer, and wraps his arms around you. “‘Bout what?” he asks.

He still holds you, even though you are a million shattered pieces of broken glass and he could easily cut himself. But if being there for you makes him bleed, he would gladly bleed out for you.

You shrug. “You died.”

His hand strokes through your hair. “But I’m here,” he tells you. “I’m alive.”

“I know, it’s just…” Your wide eyes focus on the wall across from you. “I’m so scared.”

There it is. The three words he had been waiting for.

“Fear’s human, love. Nightmares are human, but they’re not real. They’re just dreams. And fears are just yer body tryin’ ta protect itself from danger, but that doesn’t mean ya have to face it alone, y’know?”

You wonder if he used to tell his daughter the same when she was little. It sounds like something he has said many times before, maybe even to convince himself. You’re not sure, but you appreciate it.

“But you died,” you repeat, your voice barely above a whisper. “And I couldn’t save you.” Your lip quivers. “It was my fault you died because he said–he told me to stay away from my sister and I didn’t listen, and then you died. To save me. ‘Cause you said you’d always protect me and you jumped in front of the gun for me and…and you died.”

“Hey,” he tilts your chin up, “I’m here. I’m alright.”

But it’s not as easy as he makes it out to be, you both know it.

“You were shot at last night, Michael!” Your voice holds a lot of force with its honesty. “What if you hadn’t been alright? What if you’d died?” you say. “I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself. I know I’m the last person who gets to say that after the shit I put you through, but it’s true. I’m selfish. I know I’m selfish because I want you alive for me, but it’s better than not having you at all.”

His brown eyes slip from yours and he looks away. He can’t face you. The truth hurts, and you have a way of hitting the knife right where he doesn’t want it. Now he knows what it feels like when he reads you so openly.

You let out a shaky breath. “I feel so bad because Jamie died and he was your son, but you also could have died and I can’t bear the thought of that. So forgive me for being scared of losing you. Forgive me for being glad you’re alive, but for being afraid of something like last night happening again and this time, it won’t be someone else!” Your voice breaks.

He only holds you tighter, your broken edges tearing deeper holes into the parts of his soul that had been barely hanging on by a thread; and now Michael’s falling apart completely, too.

“Shh, I know,” he whispers.

You shake your head. You begin to think he doesn’t know because he doesn’t value his life as much as you do, and that hurts. Physically and mentally, it’s scarring to love someone who is so prepared to die.

But it’s the same with you, isn’t it? You would die for the people you love too, with no hesitation, and that’s what makes you so eerily similar. Pretending to be a good girl is one thing, but showing your true colors in every version there is to someone just as damaged as you holds a different kind of depth that already feels painful again, while at the same time being the only thing you could ever need. You need him.

“People die,” you whisper. “This is your life, I know, but it scares me…It shouldn’t be like this.”

You’re crying without actually crying, and it hurts even more than being able to let it all out. Your body restricts you. It’s a dry sob that burns through your throat and chest, and your soul suffers in the process. 

Michael is silent for a moment as you bury your face in his chest. The sound of your dry sobs shakes him to his core.

It’s his turn to take a deep breath. “Even though I told ya this is the kinda life I was born into and shit like this can happen, I didn’t anticipate this,” he says, his voice breathy and barely audible. “I distanced myself. I tried t’keep the people I love safe. I focused on other things. I tried…but it still happened. And I couldn’t even protect my own son.”

You close your eyes in agony. “It’s not fair that you have to live like this,” you say. 

“It’s not, you’re right. None of this is fuckin’ fair to anybody, but they’re my family.”

“This isn’t about family–”

He cuts you off, “I’ve been a target before. I’m used to it. But Jamie…he never did anythin’ wrong. He was innocent,” he says. “And I can’t reassure ya that it won’t happen again ‘cause it will. I know it, my brother knows it, everyone in this family knows it. And that’s wha makes this so fucked right now. We don’t know what’s goin’ on, but we know the risk.”

You shake your head. “That’s not fucking okay,” you snap.

He doesn’t snap back, he simply shushed you again. “I know,” he says. “Jamie was unfortunate enough t’be there with me last night, but he wasn’t the target. That’s why it hurts so much. It might have been Eric or me or someone else, but yer right. People die.”

“Children die. No one should have to accept shit like this to be the norm.”

His jaw tightens.

“This is so fucking unfair,” you hiss under your breath. “Why is it so unfair?”

“You’re right, it’s not fair,” he answers, tears of his own building up in his eyes now, “but I can’t tell ya what you wanna hear from me. It’d be a lie.”

“I don’t wanna hear anything from you other than that you’ll be okay,” you shoot back with a sniffle that breaks his heart.

He looks down, the honesty breaking your own heart in the process. “I can’t tell you tha and you know it.”

His words hang heavy in the air. You take a deep breath, but it shudders in your chest and gets trapped in your lungs. You try to block out the truth, but the truth is a cruel bastard. It manifests. 

Eventually, you break the silence. “You’re shitty at comforting me today,” you say, but you’re not serious, not really. He told you the truth, which is what you needed, and you appreciate it.

It still sucks though because it doesn’t make you feel much better. 

“I know,” he says, regret lacing his voice. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s not your fault.”

“I wanna keep ya safe, I do. And I wanna make sure your father never lays a hand on you again. I’ll kill him myself if I have ta, and I wanna make sure ya get to fight for your sister. I need to protect Anna and you. Neither of you deserve t’be a part of any o’ this,” he says, his voice wavering ever so slightly. “You’re my priority, but what happened last night is gonna have consequences and things are gonna get messy, even though I don’t want ‘em to. It’s dangerous, and I can’t tell ya how things are gonna work out because I don’t know.”

You nod, your eyes still closed. His fingers trail up your spine. This is why you fell in love with him, and there’s not even a proper word for it. He’s the man you’ve been looking for without ever knowing what you were looking for. 

You slowly lift your head to look at him. “This is your life,” you say, “and I wanna be a part of your life. I just…I can’t lose someone I love again. I can’t lose you, and it terrifies me that I might.”

You don’t care that he killed people or that his family deals drugs and regularly hurts others for a living. You thought you would care, but you love this man with all of your heart, and if you know one thing it’s that Michael Kinsella is not a bad person. He fights for those he loves. It’s not his fault he was born into this family, or that he is still loyal to them. You know he’s trying to be better for his daughter, but you can’t change the fact that he’s a Kinsella, and you no longer want to. 

You don’t have to like his family, you only need to love him, and he deserves it more than anyone to have someone by his side now.

Your life is a mess too, and he’s there for you because he sees something in you that’s worth fighting for. He loves you. He wants to protect you from the demons of your past, and you bring your fair share of dangers into this relationship, so perhaps he is the only man who could ever truly understand. And you don’t want to fight alone anymore, either. You can’t. 

Fate put you in each other’s paths for a reason, now you have to somehow deal with your lives crossing and find a way out of the woods to maybe have somewhat of a happy ending one day where everyone you care about and love is safe and taken care of, and you have both dealt with your respective grievances.

Michael cups your cheek. “You are my life,” he says. “Gives me a reason to live for.”

“But what if you die?” you ask.

“I won’t.”

“But you can’t promise me that, can you?”

He shakes his head. “Trust me,” he says. “We’ll make it through this. Just promise me ya’ll stay. No matter how hard things get...just stay, please.”

You don’t have to think twice. “Always,” you answer without missing a beat. 

“I love ya,” he says. 

“I love you too,” you echo. You reach out and intertwine your fingers with his. “Always, right?”

He nods, his thumb stroking your cheek. “Always,” he says. 

You lean forward to capture his lips in a kiss. His grip tightens and he draws you closer. His hands remain close to your body, grabbing every last inch of skin they can reach, and you melt.

“You taste like smoke,” he pants between kisses.

You bite down on his bottom lip, making him groan into your mouth. “Had a cigarette,” you say, but it’s nowhere near a confession. You don’t owe him an explanation. “Is that a problem?”

He shakes his head. “Just surprised me, is all,” he says.

You force your tongue into his mouth. At first, he fights back, but he eventually lets you take control of the kiss. It’s the first time you do so.

Struggling for breath, you both reluctantly pull away from each other. His lips move to your forehead, your hand still holding onto his. The comfortable silence between you wraps around you like a blanket. 

Michael is the first one to break the serenity, but only because he catches the familiar scent of coffee and scones in the air. His eyes fall on the bag on the bedside table. “Did ya go t’work just for breakfast?” he asks. 

You completely forgot about Birdy’s surprise visit, and all the calm he infused you with disappears. You’re nervous about telling him the truth, but he would see right through you if you chose to lie. 

You sit up, grab one of the coffee cups, and hand it to him. “No,” you say, “Birdy…Uh, she came by earlier.”

Michael’s wide awake within seconds, sitting up against the headboard. His hazel eyes trail over you, taking in each sign of discomfort and the fear in your eyes that doesn’t just come from the nerves that threaten to consume you, and it’s not just anxiety or trauma. When you say Birdy’s name, there is a slight shift in your demeanor, and he picks up on that. 

“She’s nice, by the way,” you try to talk yourself out of it. “She…she brought this for you. Well, for us, but mostly for you because she wanted to check up on you. She said she came to pick you up at the station last night, but I was there and she figured you’d be in good hands, and you were, right? You still are. I guess she just wanted to do a wellness check this morning.”

His eyes darken a little and he reaches out to grasp your hand again. “Birdy came here?” he asks to clarify. 

You nod, nursing your cup of coffee. She surprisingly chose the right kind, and your heart beats twice as fast again. You shudder.

A million thoughts run through your head, and you think back to the strange customer that threatened you a while back; you want to puke, but you haven’t eaten so that would be counterproductive. Your stomach is just as upset as your mental state, which never ends well for you. You need to calm your breathing before it’s too late. 

“She knocked and I let her in because she asked nicely and she didn’t seem like a threat to me,” you say, almost as if you’re defending yourself. “She knew my name, but I didn’t think it’d be that serious.”

“Yeah, I told her ‘bout ya, but–” Michael looks at the logo on the coffee cup, the blue butterfly appearing all too familiar. He swallows. “I never told her where I work now,” he says. “Damn it!” Running a hand over his face, he sighs. “Did she ask you anythin’?”

You bite your lip guiltily. “Well, yeah…Isn’t that what family does?” 

“I need to know what she said to ya. What did she ask?”

“Well, um…Nothing too detailed. I mean, you know I don’t like talking about details. I…She asked some things about me and the job when I saw the logo on the bag. I told her about the Butterfly Effect, how long I’ve been working there, and stuff like that. But that’s it, I promise!”

“And what did you tell her?”

“I–”

“Tell me.”

You flinch a little at his tone. “I didn’t tell her any details about my life or–or anything about my family. Or about you,” you insist. “I just said you were resting and you needed time, and that I’d tell you that she came by so you could tell her how you are yourself. She told me you guys have to support each other now, a-and she mentioned Jimmy. Especially him. I don't know, it was weird, and I found it even weirder that she knew about the café. For a moment, I thought she was trying to pry, but she left when she noticed I was uncomfortable. She was nice to me, Michael,” you say. “And she brought breakfast. That’s not an evil act, right?”

Who are you trying to convince now, you wonder. Not him, surely. It’s more like you trying to tell yourself that you didn’t make a mistake when he clearly thinks it was, and you’re not sure who you’re supposed to trust in this case. You can’t trust your own judgment, that’s for sure. You have a horrible dating history to account for it.

“Jesus,” Michael curses under his breath. “Why–How could you be so foolish?”

His words strike you hard. “I thought she was just trying to be kind,” your voice sounds higher now, and your eyes are wider than usual. “I’m sorry,” you whisper.

All color has faded from your skin. The way you look at him reminds him of a deer once again, but this time a frightened one, and he stops himself. 

Your lip quivers. “I’m sorry,” you repeat again, “I didn’t mean to upset you. I thought I was doing the right thing. But you told me to stay away from your family and I didn’t listen. Please, don’t be mad at me.”

You’re begging him even though he isn’t even mad at you, and that’s when he realizes that you misinterpreted his worry for something else. 

Michael's expression softens as he watches the distress on your face. “Hey, hey,” he murmurs, grabbing your chin. “I’m sorry. I’m not mad. I was just…worried. I’m sorry.”

“I wanted to be nice to her,” you say. “Because you said she was good and you cared about her.”

“I know, and Birdy isn’t…she isn’t evil,” he clarifies, “but she’s still a Kinsella and when she asks questions, she asks them to make sure you aren’t a threat. It’s nothin’ personal, she just wants t’keep this family safe. I thought…I thought she trusted me, but maybe I was wrong. I dunno. I’ll talk to her and make sure she keeps her nose out of any of yer business.”

You sniffle. “I’m still sorry.”

Michael glares at you in return, but it’s more of a gentle warning than meant in a threatening way. He assures you, “I've been tryin' to keep ya away from my family's business fer a reason, and I fear tha involvin' you in any way might put ya in danger, so I'll make sure it won't happen,” he says. “And I'll make sure your father won't catch wind of his 'til we can ensure Maya's safety, too.”

“I…” You meet his eyes. “I don’t deserve you,” you say. 

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s true.”

“No,” he lays back down and pulls you with him, “It’s not true.”

“How can you say that so confidently?” you retort. 

“‘Cause you are worth everythin' to me. And you deserve so much better.” He brushes a strand of hair away from your face and traces his thumb along your cheek. “I've made mistakes in my life, and I've done things I'm not proud of, but you've seen the best in me,” he says. “Ya’ve brought out the goodness in my heart, and I'll spend the rest of my days showin' ya how much ya mean to me. That’s what you deserve and nothin’ short of that.”

Instead of answering, you force him down to your level and press your lips against his. He closes his eyes, pulling you into his lip, and you use the added space to press yourself closer to him. His hands continue traveling the path of your spine, eventually resting on your lower back. 

You stay that way for a while, your lips moving lazily against each other. Time seems to stand still. You lose yourself in him, and you taste too good for him to keep a clear mind when you’re so close to him. You become one, and he makes sure you won’t go anywhere by keeping his hands locked to your hips. 

Michael manages to bring the coffee cups to safety before he sits up against the headboard, pulling you with him. His tongue asks for permission and you open your mouth to him, allowing him to explore the depth of your mouth further as you search for leverage on his broad shoulders. 

“What about breakfast?” you ask when his lips move to your neck, brushing over your pulse point. 

“That’s not what I’m hungry for,” he says. 

His hands slide up your sides underneath your shirt, his touch igniting a trail of fire on your skin. His lips find yours once again, capturing them in a passionate kiss that leaves you breathless. The taste of him lingers on your lips. You moan, involuntarily so.

“Can we…” He trails off, pulling away enough to meet your eyes. “I wanna forget. Just fer a few minutes.”

You lick your lips. There is nothing you want more. “It’s not gonna be just a few minutes though,” you murmur. 

“I don’t care.”

If he doesn’t care, you can't find it in yourself to care either, so you cave. It doesn’t take much convincing for you to give yourself over to him and trust him fully. It’s human nature at this point. 

He is so desperate, he doesn’t even waste time to take your shirt off. Michael slides it up enough to reveal your breasts, encapsulating one of your nipples with his wet lips, and you throw your head back. 

Usually, his movements are calculated, but this morning, he’s following instinct. The boxers you borrowed join his shirt on the floor, and you help his aching cock out of his underwear. Giving him a few good pumps, you spit into your hand to add some more lube. Sucking your nipples isn’t much foreplay, but he does it well enough to get you worked up. 

He pulls you down in one swift motion and you let out a collective gasp. Your hand finds the headboard. You shouldn’t be doing this, but here you are, and you don’t intend on stopping. 

Michael moans into the crook of your neck, his arms wrapping around you. He’s silently asking for you to take the lead, and how can you deny him this much-needed release?

You straighten your back and begin to move your hips slowly. His cock is hard, thick, and achingly buried between your velvety walls. Your breaths soon turn into little whimpers before transcending into a crescendo of moans. 

Your hearts start beating in sync, and your connection deepens with every touch, every kiss, every whispered promise. You move your hips in a rhythm of your choosing, and he goes along with it, occasionally helping out when you get tired, and you can't help but succumb to the power of pleasure that is dragging you down. 

As you lose yourselves in each other, the world is reduced to the rhythm of your bodies. 

You circle your hips, chasing your high by chasing the sweet spot inside of you. The head of his cock bumps against it, and you moan. You continue moving just like that. 

He presses open-mouthed kisses to your shoulder, licking the salty skin over your shoulder blade, and he sucks a deep purple mark in the same place the last hickey has disappeared from.  

You run your fingers through his hair. He rests his forehead against your shoulder, his hands gripping your hips a little tighter. 

“Michael,” you breathe.

He whispers your name back. He’s somewhere else, sweat running down his back, and the sweetest sounds come out of his mouth. He’s a mess underneath you, but he looks even more beautiful like this. 

“I love you,” you tell him. “So much.”

His cock brushes against your G-spot, your clit bumping against his pelvis over and over again, and the pleasure mixes with the conflicted pain in your soul. It’s a lot. You love him so much, it’s overwhelming, and knowing about the danger you might be in makes it even worse, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. It’s your body that makes all the decisions for you right now, not your mind. Your heart is screaming for more, and you give it what it wants. 

Michael grabs the back of your head and pulls you in for a searing kiss. You grab his face to pull him impossibly closer.

“I love ya too,” he tells you. 

You lift your arms so he can take your shirt off. It’s getting hotter and therefore harder to breathe.

Happy with the new playground, he leans in to suck one of your nipples back into his mouth. His hand rests on the other, making sure it won’t feel neglected. He pushes all your buttons at once, eliciting moan after moan from you. It’s like you were never apart. 

Sex between you has flowed effortlessly from the start, and it’s no different now. Maybe it’s because Michael knows exactly what to do, or maybe you’re just so in sync that it works; either way, you have never felt this much pleasure even from a sloppy fuck as this one, and you still manage to find it in yourselves to tell each other how much you love each other because this is not just sex, this is more. It always is more when it comes to you. You need to forget, but that’s not all. This is more than desperation. This is love. 

You dig your nails into his back when he hits the sweet spot inside of you again with his cock, and the wave crashes into you almost unexpectedly. You were too focused on the way his body feels against yours that you ignored the pleasure completely. 

You throw your head back. When you come, the room fills with the call of his name, followed by a string of curses and your name, and then, silence. 

You remain in his arms, his cock still buried deep inside of you, his cum staining not only your insides but your thighs as well, but you’re finally close again, and you don’t want him to be anywhere else but where he is now. 

Sweat stains your temple. Michael wipes it away with his thumb, caressing your face as he looks at you, his cheeks flushed. He always looks so good after sex. 

You lean into his touch, closing your eyes. This is where you want and need to be. You’re alive with him. Without him, there is no you anymore. 

He woke up the person that had been asleep inside of you for so long. You found yourself, and in his arms, you can be the person you should be without fearing judgment. You can just be yourself, no questions asks. He accepts and loves you unconditionally. He worships your body like a goddess, and he’s kneeling at the altar of your love. 

He takes a shaky breath. “I hope I didn’t imagine that ya just came,” he says. 

Your face contorts into a smile. “Trust me,” you say, “you weren’t imagining anything.”

“Good,” Michael pulls you closer, “‘cause I don’t wanna be selfish.”

“Don’t worry about me. With you, I always come.”

“Only with me, huh?” He raises his eyebrows. “No one ever made ya come before?”

You meet his eyes, your blush deepening. “I...I've never felt this way with anyone else in general. Not just with orgasms, although you win those,” you admit softly. “You just have a way of making me feel things I never thought possible, you know? It's like you have this innate understanding of my mind, body and soul. It's...it's crazy,” you bite your lip, “but, like, in a good way.”

His hand is on your arm, stroking the sensitive skin there the same way his thumb caresses your cheek, and it manages to leave goosebumps in its wake. “Yer not alone in tha, love,” he says. “You've opened up a whole new world for me too. Everything about you drives me wild. You have a spell on me, I think.” He leans in to press a tender kiss against your lips. “Witch.”

You snort. “Hey!”

He playfully bites your bottom lip. “I’m jokin’. It’s not just physical,” Michael continues, his fingers continuing to stroke your arm. “It's the way we understand each other. It's the way ya make me feel alive...like I'm truly seen and accepted for who I am. I've been so lost, but…now I feel a little less like that,” he says. 

Your eyes flutter closed. He’s everywhere, all over you, and it’s hard to think straight. “Yeah, me too,” you respond, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Not much makes sense lately…”

“But you have me.”

“Yeah,” he nuzzles his nose against yours, “I do.”

You smile, your eyes still closed. You don’t need to see him, you only need to feel him close. “You should ask for a few days off to deal with things,” you say, changing the subject in a different way.

His nose rubs against yours again. “Yeah, maybe.”

“And I’m gonna stay with you for a few days to make sure you’re okay.” 

“Sounds good t’me.”

“But I have work today,” you add. “Late shift.”

He sighs, cradling your head in the crook of his neck. It’s an intimate hug in the position you’re in, but you can feel his heart pounding from his chest to yours. “Money doesn’t grow on trees, does it?” he says. 

You shake your head. You don’t want to leave him, but as he said, money doesn’t grow on trees and you can’t lose your job.

Your breath fans hotly across his shoulder, “I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

He holds you tighter. “There’s no reason ya’d have to.”

You can feel him against your temple when he presses a kiss right on the scar he found the night before. You shiver slightly, but it doesn’t make you uncomfortable. Even looking at it seemed terrifying before; his kiss works like a bandaid, keeping the memories from spilling out through the broken skin. 

“I don’t want ya to lose your job ‘cause o’ me,” Michael says. “We’ll figure it out.”

You nod against his shoulder. It’s not easy juggling the demands of work and personal life, especially in times of crisis. You’re tired, mentally and physically drained, and you might as well be on the verge of slipping into depression, but that doesn’t stop life from happening.

You have to suck it up for today. Maybe you can talk to Ava about using your remaining overtime to take a day or two off to deal with stuff, but you know shit is going to hit the fan even more soon, it always does, and you’ll need even more time then. You need a whole year off to just focus on yourself, but that’s not possible. So you have to learn how to live with it. You lived in delusion before, you just have to find a way to return to this pretentious picture of a perfect life for a few hours. 

You’re determined to find a way to support Michael, and he’s determined to find a way to support and protect you. You know he will, so you’re a little less scared. Even the thing with Birdy seems like something he has under control. He’ll take care of it. 

One thing he can’t take away though are the demons and the memories, and that’s what keeps your mind occupied.

It’s the same you told Anthony; it hurts, and when something hurts, cigarettes and alcohol only offer a momentary relief. That’s why they’re so addictive. Your love for tequila is a dangerous game you’re playing.

You’re thinking too much and it’s starting to show. 

Michael brushes the hair out of your face. “Hey, I’ll be okay,” he tells you, his voice gentle yet firm. “You take care of yourself and do what ya need t’do. I can fend for myself. We’ll have plenty of time together once yer done with work. I have things to take care of myself that can’t wait.”

You partly know what he means by that. So, you nod. You take a deep breath, trying to ease the tension in your body by rolling your shoulders, and you remember his cock is still buried deep inside of you. 

You blush, a little flustered now. “Thank you,” you whisper. 

He presses a kiss to your forehead, not phased in the slightest that your walls are still hugging him, keeping him warm. “Always,” he says. 

With a final kiss, you reluctantly pull off of him and begin to prepare for the day ahead. As you leave the room, you take comfort in the knowledge that no matter the challenges you face, you have each other’s unwavering support. And that, in itself, gives you the strength to carry on.

Tagging: (let me know if you want to be tagged, too!) @bellaxgiornata @mattmurdocksscars @ms-murdockswift @your-not-invisible-to-me @shouldbestudying41 @glowstick-lesbian @acharliecoxedfan @roseallisonparker @norestfortheshelbywicked @1988-fiend @loveroftoomanyfandoms @mattkinsella @schneeflocky @harperdoodle @ravenclaw617 @lunaticgurly

[liesmyth]

Some general thoughts about the narrative voice in John’s NtN flashback chapters now that I started rereading Nona for the [mumble]time

▸ John is talking to Alecto; Harrow is just listening. Harrow, inside Alecto, is revisiting Alecto’s memories of the immediate post-apocalypse, and this is possibly a real conversation Alecto and John had at some point. She is experiencing the world like Alecto did in the aftermath. The “I still love you / You always say that, Harrowhark” exchanges are Harrow’s consciousness replacing Alecto’s name with her own. The only time Harrow, as herself, interacts with John are in John 5:4 (“Teacher, may I ask a question?”) THAT is Harrow.

▸The flashbacks aren’t in real-time with the rest of Nona. This is a narrative framing trick on Tamsyn’s part, putting most John’s chapters immediately after Nona has gone to sleep or right before she wakes, to keep the reader speculating that Nona might be Harrow. HtN 27 ends with Nona admitting that she’s not Harrow and she “never was,” and John 1:20 picks up right after while Nona is obviously awake. We don’t know how long ago these flashbacks took place for Harrow, but I assume at least a few months. Harrow walked into the tower and into hell in John 5:4 and was in there for a while. John possibly started his bender in earnest after his last conversation with Harrow.

▸I’m taking John as a truthful narrator. He’s not actively lying or attempting to deceive his interlocutor, because he’s talking to Alecto at the end of the world, and he has nobody left to hold him accountable. Multiple times he shares details that make him look worse and he could have left out with no problems—such as when he admits that he killed local civilians along with the cops (“I dropped everyone with a gun in a kilometre radius. There were over a hundred of them, but I didn’t discriminate) or when he recounts C— saying “your problem is that you care less about being a saviour than you do about meting out punishment.” These are all details that aren’t very relevant to the grand scheme of events, but make him look bad. He’s spilling his guts to the ancient inhuman creature who made him a good; when he says ‘it doesn’t matter’ which bomb went off first, it’s true—humanity is gone anyway. He has no reason to lie. No personal account will ever be objective, but it isn’t a con.

▸Doyistically: This is the part of the story where we get answers. NtN was conceived as the first act of Alecto; THAT is the context in which the flashback chapters were first developed. We are in the final stretch, and there’s absolutely no narrative payback in introducing several chapters of a much-anticipated backstory only for the narrative to pull the rug under from the reader by revealing last minute that the truth is actually somewhere in the middle. AtN is going to be so packed that there won’t be enough space in the narrative for this kind of revelation, unless it’s really half assed, which I doubt. If we do end up getting a different account of events, it will be due to normal reasons like different people remembering details in a different way, but this is far from the kind of narrative gaslighting that was going on in HtN.

Yes I made this post for myself to link to in the future so I can point at it for #reference

[dragoneyes618]

The world looks a lot different from Kibbutz Kfar Aza than it does in the United States or any other point on the planet. The difference is obvious in Tel Aviv, Jerusalem or anywhere else in Israel. Throughout the world in most mainstream media accounts and commentary from supposedly enlightened members of the chattering classes, the current war being fought in Gaza between Israel and Hamas is seen as merely the latest twist in a long cycle of violence between Israelis and Palestinians. From that perspective, it’s just more evidence of the cruelty of war to which the only possible moral response is to tell everyone involved to stop it, especially when the alleged underdogs—the Palestinians—are being defeated.

To those who look on from afar, the history of the conflict or the rights and wrongs of how the war started—even the unspeakable atrocities committed on Oct. 7 at Kfar Aza and 21 other Israeli communities when Palestinians associated with Hamas violated a ceasefire, crossed the border and murdered, raped, tortured and kidnapped people—are just details that act to incite the combatants.

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But those details matter, especially if they involve the right to live in safety and relative peace.

A just war

This war is between a democratic nation fighting for its existence against an Islamist movement whose goal is the destruction of Israel and the Jewish people. Yet many outside of Israel, even those who do know the history and essential nature of the two sides in this struggle, such as President Joe Biden and U.S. Secretary of State Antony Blinken, are increasingly speaking as if the only thing to do is to end the war as soon as possible. They say the aftermath of the war must mean that Hamas survives—and gets away with mass murder. That means the Palestinians are rewarded for such abominations with an independent state that will likely have the ability to pursue the terrorist organization’s goal for many more days like Oct. 7. Somehow, that makes sense in Washington and other places.

But not in Israel.

The overwhelming majority of Israelis, including many, if not most, of those who oppose Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, see it very differently. And to understand why, maybe you need to go to Kfar Aza and see the ruins and makeshift memorials to the people who lived in that small kibbutz near the Gaza border who were brutally murdered, raped or kidnapped by Palestinians.

If so, you’ll soon realize that the battle with Hamas isn’t one about Israelis ruthlessly harming Palestinians. Nor is it about “white” oppressors seeking to dominate powerless “people of color,” as many left-wing Americans think. Nor is it one in which tired diplomatic theories about a “two-state solution,” which have repeatedly been rejected by the Palestinian people, can be employed to get a messy situation under control, not to mention ease some of Biden’s political problems.

To be in Israel during this war is to experience both the strength and the fragility of the Jewish state. Yet the general public wouldn’t necessarily think that if all they know of the Middle East is what’s seen on news shows. After all, life goes on pretty much as normal, even if some businesses and farming areas in southern and northern Israel have clearly suffered due to the absence of employees because so many people have been called into active military service. The buses and trains are running, and people still go to the movies and concerts, as well as other normal activities.

The hotels are also full, but not with tourists. That is a key giveaway that something isn’t right. Walk into many hotels in Jerusalem or Tel Aviv, and something is a little off. They’re packed with people but not tourists on vacation from abroad. Chat with even a few of the hundreds of thousands of Israelis—families with small children and elderly people prominent among them—who were forced to flee their homes in the south near Gaza and the north near Lebanon, and you get a view of the war that is omitted in the breathless coverage of Palestinian suffering.

A country united by grief and determination

To understand what’s going on, you need to talk to Israelis who have been called back into the military and willingly risking their lives fighting in Gaza. Though they’re eager to resume their regular lives, many I spoke with are just as ready to return to the battlefield because they know the job of destroying a deadly threat to their country isn’t finished. While international opinion deplores the possibility that Israel will attack the city of Rafah—Hamas’s last major enclave inside Gaza—few Israelis I spoke to, including those who have served, are prepared to halt the war until all of the perpetrators of the Oct. 7 massacres are stripped of the ability to repeat their crimes.

You don’t have to do a lot of reporting before you realize that morale among Israeli soldiers is high and stretches across all the cultural, political and religious debates that divide Israeli society. It’s not because they relish war or bloodshed. They don’t want to kill Palestinians and also grieve the loss of so many of their comrades—casualties made more likely because of the strict rules of engagement that prevent the Israel Defense Forces from fully utilizing the firepower at their disposal to lower the number of civilians killed because Hamas uses them as human shields.

Their spirit remains strong. They know that what they are doing has nothing to do with the lies about “apartheid,” “settler-colonialism,” “occupation” or “genocide” that are thrown about at antisemitic demonstrations in U.S. cities or on college campuses and are treated as acceptable discourse in mainstream publications like The New York Times.

Israeli soldiers—young conscripts and veteran reservists alike—aren’t down about the war because they know that what they are doing is defending their homes and families. It’s the civic faith in the justice of their cause that resonates throughout Israeli society and pervades the thinking of those who have sent their loved ones to battle. It is also felt by the grieving families of those who didn’t come home. Israel is a nation that is united by both anguish and determination.

Americans understand war differently

This may come as a shock to Americans, who are used to thinking of wars in a very different way.

Since World War II, Americans were sent to fight dismal and bloody proxy wars in Korea and Vietnam, where the rhetoric about defending democracy against communism rang hollow for many. That was just as true about the attitudes toward the wars fought in Afghanistan and Iraq in this century. Despite any initial enthusiasm about punishing the perpetrators of 9/11 or toppling dictator Saddam Hussein, those conflicts turned into messy quagmires that most Americans—whether on the right or the left—wished to escape. Though the opponents of the United States were clearly evil, by the time both wars ended in what history will record as defeats, they hardly seemed worth the sacrifice of blood and treasure that had been expended on them. Even before the final rout of Americans during the Biden administration’s disastrous withdrawal from Afghanistan, these wars had already been sealed in the country’s collective memory by both popular culture and the opinion of most serious commentators as terrible mistakes.

Coverage of Israel’s war against Hamas makes it seem as if it is another version of hapless and brutal Westerners fighting Muslims in futile efforts that cannot succeed, similar to the way Americans failed in Iraq and Afghanistan. But the overwhelming majority of Israelis—from secular left-wing Tel Avivians to pious Jerusalemites and all points in between—know their war is different.

They understand that their opponents are not in far-off lands like America’s in recent decades, and their raw violence directly threatens them. Though Israel has prospered in the 75 years since the Jews regained sovereignty in their ancient homeland, it hasn’t known a day of complete peace. Palestinian Arabs, their foreign allies and enablers in the Muslim and Arab world, as well as those in the West and international community, have never given up their quest to destroy the one Jewish state on the planet.

Places of pilgrimage

That’s why the view from Kfar Aza, and other Israeli kibbutzim and towns throughout southern Israel, is so different.

The sites of the massacres have become places of pilgrimage for Israelis and visitors to the country—and rightly so. To see the homes in places like Kfar Aza that were riddled with bullets and/or burned by the terrorists, and to learn of the horrible fates of their inhabitants, is a searing experience. The same is true for the fields where the Nova music festival took place, and where hundreds of young people were slaughtered, raped and kidnapped—and which are now filled with makeshift memorials to the victims and those taken hostage. Just as haunting are the nearby fields where the wreckage of hundreds of burned-out cars of festival attendees have been piled up and for the time being, left as a gruesome reminder of their fate.

After a brief period of interest and empathy, most of the international media lost interest in the story of Oct. 7. Americans don’t hear from those who survived the attacks or those who risked their lives to rescue some of the victims. But their stories do resonate with fellow Israelis, who understand that they could have just as easily found themselves the prey of Hamas murderers hunting for Jews to torment and kill on that terrible day.

The fate of the hostages also hangs over the country. The pain of the families of those who are still held in captivity by Hamas is felt by everyone there. And while politics has intruded into the discussion—as the anti-judicial reform movement that paralyzed the country has taken control of the weekly “hostage square” protests in Tel Aviv and focused their animus at Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu rather than Hamas—support for the war effort remains largely unshaken.

The notion of stopping the fighting to allow Hamas to survive while still armed and in control of part of Gaza is widely considered reasonable elsewhere, but not in Israel. There, they understand that if Hamas is allowed to fully escape the consequences of the war it started, it will only mean that it will be allowed to make good on its promise to repeat the Oct. 7 atrocities again and again.

The widespread assumption in America—even among major Jewish organizations that are supposed to have Israel and the Jewish people’s best interests at heart—that a Palestinian state must be created after the war ends is opposed even by most on the Israeli left. They know that rewarding Hamas and its supporters with such a gesture isn’t just an invitation to more bloodshed. It’s also immoral and will ensure that the conflict never ends. The independent Palestinian state in all but name ruled by Hamas in Gaza before Oct. 7 was evidence of what such a “solution” would mean for Israel. They understand that a state in Gaza, as well as one in Judea and Samaria, controlled by genocidal terrorists and their morally equivalent political rivals—the Palestinian Authority and the Fatah Party—could place the entire country in danger.

But that’s hard to see in Washington, even by those not motivated by leftist ideologies to hate Israel and to cheer the slaughter of Jews. Still, it’s a truth that is difficult to escape when looking at the ruins of Kfar Aza.

[missingmywing]

So as per usual for me and fics, this will be long. Ryomina is fun and has a lot to play with. (Ao3 link)

Day 1: First Meeting/Childhood Friends

I’m playing fast and loose with canon and the actual lore behind Nyx, because as much as I like FFVII I don’t want to just write Jenova 2.0. So my lore is that she is a being of the collective unconscious like the other “gods” in Persona, she’s just much, much more powerful because death is an inescapable, tangible thing that happens rather than an intangible concept.

Also Erebus isn’t… a thing. I understand and respect what the team was going for with how they did Nyx and Erebus with The Answer, but it makes things more convoluted than necessary for my preferences. Humanity’s despair and wish for death doesn’t need a tangible form - Nyx can sense it directly and her radar lights up red when she’s called for directly (thanks Kandori, thanks Kirijo) and that’s what makes her active. Minato’s seal acts like a buffer or a muffler - an interference so she can’t hear herself being called (unless it’s particularly direct). Because you can’t kill death - and even if you could you shouldn’t because unconditional immortality is a very bad idea- and I’m getting off track. Point is I’m making P3 consistent with the lore of the rest of the series rather than “it was aliens, actually”. P2 subverted that, P3 can’t just turn around and play it straight while hiding it under a mountain of conditional lore.

Also exploring Minato as a freshly traumatized child is a fascinating exercise. Newly nihilistic six year old has not realized he’s nihilistic yet because everyone is still assuming the apathy towards everything is a normal trauma response. He and Death have such an interesting dynamic as they both learn.

FINDING OUT HALFWAY THROUGH THIS THAT IT WAS APPARENTLY RECENTLY CONFIRMED THAT TATSUMI PORT ISLAND IS SUPPOSED TO BE BASICALLY ODAIBA WAS INFURIATING. What do you MEAN Gekkoukan is in Tokyo, no it is not I’ve had the hc that Minato spent his junior high years in Tokyo for YEARS do not do this to me Persona. Anyway, I moved it so that I can keep my hcs the same, it’s still in the same general area it’s just outside of Tokyo Bay rather than inside it now. I was so tempted to keep the long-standing guess the fandom has had and put Tatsumi Island in Kobe you have NO IDEA. Fucking Odaiba man. Maruki says hello Nyx.

~ ᙙᙖ ~

In one world, they wouldn’t have met or known each other until Minato was sixteen. Minato would have been not-so-blissfully ignorant of the truth of the events that happened that night of the explosion. Nothing but vague memories of a bright light and broken cars and fire all around.

But in another, Minato remembered.

Unbuckling his seatbelt to look at the ocean far below, the explosion that threw him out of the car, his mother’s teary pleading for him to live, the collision of a robot and monster on the bridge that threw everything else back, the flashes of a chaotic fight, the guilt and devastation in the robot girl’s eyes as she pressed the blue fire containing the monster to his chest and apologized for turning him into its seal-

That was technically the first time he met Death.

But it wasn’t until a month later that they met properly, face to face, and Minato could acknowledge him directly.

It had been… a rough month. The aftermath of the accident had destroyed and consumed his life - left him thrown about from hospital to police station to a different and more elaborate and creepy hospital where he stayed for nearly two weeks while people in lab coats ran tests and poked at the new giant scar on his chest and men in suits tried to get in contact with a family member they could force to willing to take him, and then he was given to his aunt and uncle who weren’t expecting to suddenly have a child to take care of and were upset and scrambling to adjust. And they weren’t cruel or dismissive but he knew they weren’t happy to have him here suddenly and his aunt was devastated about her sister’s death and their smiles were so fake and he couldn’t even cry which made them uneasy and more upset and-

Minato had heard the words “trauma reaction” and “emotional suppression” more in the past month than his entire short life beforehand and he wished he could understand what that even meant but it felt like everything was a blur and just floating past his head.

He knew there was something wrong with him, though. That had been obvious at his parent’s funeral where he didn’t even feel anything and couldn’t bring himself to react or say anything to the parade of people coming over to talk to him.

The doctors who they kept trying to make him talk to acted like it was normal. His aunt and uncle acted like he was broken. Everyone else acted like he was a ghost.

He was pretty sure the ghost comparison was the one that was closest. He had a monster inside of him now, after all. The same monster who was probably responsible for his parents dying and midnight turning weird.

But maybe he was a little broken too because of it. Because he didn’t hate that monster even knowing all that. He didn’t really even miss his parents even though he’d always loved them so much before. He didn’t… care. About anything.

And he wasn’t scared, on the full moon a month after the accident, when the midnight hour hit and there was a sharp, tearing pain in his chest, and the monster appeared in a blaze of blue fire. It hovered over his bed like the evil creature from every scary bedtime story and stared down at him with its chain and torn brown cloak and a sword in its hand.

It looked evil but it didn’t feel evil. He’d always been good at telling what people around him felt - a gentle soul with an empathetic heart his mother had called him - and the monster felt… empty. Empty like he always felt now. There wasn’t any anger or hate like he’d expected from a monster.

He sat up and looked at it blankly, waiting for it to do something. Try to kill him like it had been trying to kill the robot, maybe. When it didn’t do anything he tilted his head and asked, “What’s your name?”

Might as well know what monster he was supposed to be “sealing”.

The creature stared down at him for a moment of silence, then spoke in a raspy, echoing voice - like two pieces of metal screeching against each other in the undertones. “I am Death.”

“Oh. Okay. I guess that’s why you killed people.” He frowned. “If you’re trapped inside of me then are people going to stop dying then?”

“No,” the monster said. “I embody the concept but I am not its entirety. I am merely the harbinger for she who calls the end.”

“What do you mean? What’s a harbinger?”

“An omen. I am a sign that the end has come - that humanity has forsaken its will to live and wishes for the world to end. I am the call to the goddess of death, Nyx, to bring death to all.”

“But that’s… not true. Most people don’t want to die. You can’t say that humans don’t want to live when most people do,” Minato tilted his head to the side. “I don’t know anyone who really wants to die. It’s usually an accident, or because someone else did it on purpose.”

“My very existence is proof that humanity has succumbed to despair and wishes for death. Your sole experiences are meaningless.”

Minato stared at him for a long moment then shrugged. “You’re wrong, but okay. Are you going to kill me, then? I think the robot girl made it so you can’t leave, that’s why she sealed you inside me.”

Death was silent for a moment, then said “My very essence has been sealed within you, bound and entwined to your soul. Your death would mean an end to my existence as well, vanishing into the Sea of Souls alongside you, unable to accomplish my goal.”

“So… no?”

“No. So long as the seal is intact I am incapable of killing you.”

“Okay, so you can’t leave and you can’t kill me. I’m going to sleep then.” Minato fell back and tugged the covers back up, rolling onto his side so his back was turned to the mon- to Death. “Night.”

The Shadow stared incredulously at him for several long minutes until his breath evened out and it became apparent that he truly was asleep.

It seemed the Anti-Shadow Unit had indeed known what she was doing to best undermine him. He was truly and solidly trapped.

… time would tell how this would play out, he supposed. After all, time came for all in the end and death was the most patient of mistresses. Nyx would wait.

~ ᙙᙖ ~

Minato quickly got used to Death showing up. First once a month on the full moon, then as time went on he began showing up in his dreams, and then speaking into his head while conscious outside the extra midnight hour.

It was almost surprising how quickly Minato got used to him - by the time a year had passed Death had become a normal presence in his life. Not a comforting presence, perhaps, but normal. The Shadow, as Minato now knew he was, still disbelieved Minato when he said that humanity really didn’t seem to be calling to Nyx. He remained adamant that it was simply Minato’s small range of existence that hid the truth.

And maybe that was true - maybe the small city he lived in didn’t show how many people were wish for the end. But if there were actually that many surely he would have met at least a few here.

Death did slowly become more curious about the day to day lives of people as time passed though, asking questions first during meetings in his dreams and then directly in his head once he’d figured out how to break through the seal enough to do so.

Minato probably should have been more worried that he was doing that, but most emotions were muted and distant these days so he just learned to ignored the burn and stinging pain in his chest that indicated Death taking an active interest in something going on. Sometimes it was a history lesson or science assignment, sometimes it was a conversation with a classmate or an overheard argument between adults.

He gained an active presence in Minato’s head just in time for the christmas season, actually, so Minato got very used to tuning out the pain of it very quickly because Death seemed fascinated and bewildered by… just about everything about the holiday. Things Minato had taken for granted were now subject to question and he had to ask about quite a few of them himself.

Granted he and Death both realized pretty quickly that the adults around them were simplifying explanations to make him understand it, because Death asked a lot more complicated and confusing questions about humans and traditions and… something about transferral of religion? Things Minato didn’t understand and couldn’t figure out how to ask about because he wasn’t sure what Death was actually asking.

What did someone dying for everyone else a long time ago have to do with christmas trees?

Once Minato asked Death that question in return the Shadow seemed to realize that Minato didn’t understand a lot about what he was trying to figure out and returned to asking more simplified questions.

Some of them still went over Minato’s head - why did it matter about the weird necklace the student helping at the shrine was wearing? The shrines never decorated for christmas, everyone knew that - but at least he could answer why the teenage boy was sneaking the bracelet he’d bought into his pocket so the girl with him wouldn’t see it.

The true shift in their relationship happened around the year mark of the accident.

Death could still only manifest physically on the full moon, but he did so each month without fail. Perhaps to ensure that he still could. But this time was… different.

Because when he did Minato felt something like satisfaction or triumph flicker through his chest as the Shadow appeared - and the fire vanished to reveal a boy the same age as Minato. He looked similar, but had darker and shorter hair, and his eyes were a bright blue. He was also wearing a striped prisoner outfit like out of a movie, but that was obvious enough why.

He looked down, examining himself, and nodded in satisfaction. “It worked.”

Minato tilted his head at him. “You were trying to turn yourself into a human?”

“I’m still not actually human, I’m merely taking this form. But yes. I thought it might better help me understand humans if I could imitate their form. So I tried to copy yours. It’s not exact, but I suppose that’s the influence of my inherent nature.” He hopped up onto the bed beside Minato. “If nothing else, it should be less disorienting to speak with me during this hour in this form.”

He wasn’t disorienting to talk to in his other form either, but he seemed unusually pleased with himself about this so Minato didn’t see a reason to contradict him. “I won’t have to look up at you anymore, I guess.”

“Exactly. I still know that humanity is calling out for the end, but it is strange how much attachment to life the people around you have in general.” The Shadow turned cocked his head with a thoughtful look. “If I imitate and understand humans, perhaps I can understand why that is.”

Minato really didn’t see what was hard to understand about people generally not wanting to die, but he supposed it was a fault of Death being a Shadow. And, well, Death.

“If you want,” he shrugged. “I don’t see what’s so hard to understand about it, but if it’ll help you understand then I think it’s fine.” Death still hadn’t shown any indication that he was about to break out of the seal, after all, so he couldn’t muster any real worry about it.

Not that he’d probably be able to stop him if he did, but… well, the robot girl had entrusted Death to him when she failed so the least he could do was make the attempt.

~ ᙙᙖ ~

He wasn’t quite sure when he’d crossed the line in the minds of adults around him from “recovering from the accident” to “creepy”. But he began noticing it over time as one year crept towards two towards three and his aunt and uncle - rather than adjusting and becoming comfortable in his presence - went from uncertain to uneasy around him.

At first they’d looked at him like they weren’t sure what to do with him, like he was one wrong word from breaking down crying. But now they looked at him like they thought something was wrong with him - like they didn’t want to figure out what to do with him.

He blamed Death, honestly. The Shadow was rubbing off on him as much as he was on the Shadow.

The whispers behind his back that they thought he wasn’t listening to - unnatural, too quiet, emotionless, never cries, never throws a tantrum, never gets happy or upset, doesn’t have friends, looks right through you - definitely made it sound like there was something wrong with him.

He didn’t really feel wrong. He just didn’t feel strong emotions - was more tired than anything a lot of the time.

But maybe that was the proof that something was wrong, because he remembered feeling more strongly about things, remembered feeling excited or scared or sad or happy so strongly he thought it’d overwhelm him. His parents had gently chastised him more than once about an excessive reaction to something.

So maybe they were right and there was something wrong with him. That “something wrong” just happened to be the personification of Death sealed in his chest, and there was nothing he could do about that.

Not… that he really minded. He liked having Death in his mind, asking questions and making him wonder about the world around him in ways he wouldn’t have otherwise. He liked being able to guess what the people around him were thinking and feeling based on their expressions and body language. And it came in handy on tests when he couldn’t remember the answer to something and Death was willing to remind him.

It just meant that Death stayed his only friend because everyone around him found his presence off-putting and unnerving. Even his teachers didn’t really like him if they spent any time outside of class with him. And his aunt and uncle only became more distant and unnerved as the years passed and he didn’t become more open or how he had been before the accident.

So it wasn’t really a surprise when he turned ten and they told him that he’d be moving in with a cousin. Their excuse was that they were trying for a child, and didn’t want to divide their attention between two children who both needed it so he’d be sent to someone who could continue to devote attention to him.

It would have been a lot more convincing if they had been devoting attention to him rather than avoiding him or becoming very strained when they did interact with him.

Minato… didn’t really care, he’d been expecting it, but there was a keen edge of resentment from Death at both the lie and the disregard.

(There was something else there in the undertones that Minato couldn’t quite read. A bitter, sharp edge of emotion that Death tried to hide from him, and Minato didn’t ask. If Death wanted him to know then he would tell him.)

There had been no expectations on Minato’s behalf on his way to Inagawa in Hyōgo - it was a relatively small town comparatively, fairly rural, and he knew nothing about the cousin taking him in. He wondered how they’d been convinced.

The town was… nice enough. Surrounded by mountainous area, forest on all sides, lakes and rice patties in the distance…

Altogether different than the cities he’d grown up in.

His cousin, as it turned out, was a middle-aged no-nonsense man clearly far more focused on whatever his career was than any sort of familial relationship. Given how quickly the man had gruffly brushed through introductions and a tour of the apartment - relatively small and sparsely decorated, the man clearly spent almost no time here - and essentially told him he was on his own and to stay out of trouble, Minato assumed he’d been promised that Minato was low-effort and he’d be able to effectively ignore him.

Which wasn’t inaccurate so he couldn’t complain too much.

(Death seemed to take it the wrong way and got very annoyed, though, which was almost funny.)

It did mean that he had to learn to cook. He got an allowance, enough to cover any food he needed, but unless he wanted to live off of prepackaged food he did need to learn the basics at least.

… although after his terrible start of burned rice and an uneven omelette the man did at least teach him those basics, so he clearly wasn’t entirely uncaring. Or he just didn’t want to risk a fire.

Death was relieved about that, though he did seem to derive some amusement from Minato’s inept attempts at learning to cook. Not that he was any help. Any number of historical or philosophical questions he’d be more than happy to lecture about, but anything practical and he was useless.

It wasn’t a bad two years. Just as lonely, but not bad. Less side-eyes and unease at least.

His cousin was very rarely home, and when he was he was usually working on either paperwork or a laptop. The man didn’t seem to care about friends or social circles, or at least not enough to invite anyone over, and he and Minato largely ignored each other when they were home at the same time. He didn’t ask about Minato’s grades or social interactions either, which his aunt and uncle had still done, which made it harder to really care about them either.

Minato continued to be off-putting to everyone around him, it seemed, but he still wasn’t sure what exactly he was doing to drive them away and make the kids call him scary and the teachers murmur that he was unnerving. It wasn’t just lack of emotional reactions, he didn’t think, because there were a couple of other kids that were like that and they were called “cool” and “admirable”.

But something about him made people shy away and refuse to meet his eyes.

Maybe it was the same thing that made animals nervous around him.

The same thing that made the other Shadows leave him alone during the midnight hour, even though they would attack anyone else able to move around. That ability didn’t seem to happen here, at least - he never encountered anyone else out the few times he wandered around town in the green light.

Which was more than he could say of the city he had lived in - after the first time he’d been out and encountered both a person and the Shadows around, and his presence had whipped the Shadows into a frenzy and made them more aggressive than usual towards any one else around, he’d avoided going out during that hour.

Death made them more dangerous, and Minato didn’t want to be responsible for anyone dying.

But it wasn’t a problem here, and there was something fascinating about walking around an empty town covered in blood and coffins beneath a green moon. It was eerie.

It made him feel the most alive that he had been since the accident.

Still, it was just one more thing that set him apart from everyone around him and he continued to spend most of his time alone. Often with a book. And while animals were more nervous around him than other people they did warm up to him relatively quickly once assured he wouldn’t hurt them. Once he realized that it wasn’t quite as lonely, and he became a friendly face to several of the strays around.

And Death was always there. He never really left anymore, and the pain of his presence had long since vanished. Minato chose not to think about what that meant for the seal. He was a friend, always at Minato’s side, and the years passed had made his comments about being the harbinger existing only to usher in humanity’s death fade into only the occasional thoughtful consideration about one situation or another. His absolute certainty that humanity at large wished for death had diminished significantly in the face of so much constant drive forward from everyone around Minato. Instead, he seemed to be searching for what humans did want - what it was that drove each one forwards to the future, each person chasing after their own goals in life.

Minato certainly didn’t have the answer, and people didn’t like him enough to be willing to tell him, so they contented themselves watching and listening and speculating.

So the two years he spent in Inagawa were peaceful enough, with various animals and Death (both in his mind and in child form) keeping him company.

~ ᙙᙖ ~

And then that peace was summarily shattered when his cousin announced that he was getting engaged and moving in with his fiancee to Osaka, and Minato would be moving in with another relative, a different cousin, in Tokyo.

When it happened Minato felt nothing more than a twinge of disappointment. He’d hoped to keep this peace for a while longer before his presence became a nuisance again.

Death was significantly more displeased, irritated that Minato’s cousin was displacing him rather than adapting around him, concerned about being sent to Tokyo - and there was that something more to that thought that Minato was sensing from him more and more often these days - and handed off to another relative they knew nothing about, a frustration on Minato’s behalf that they’d long since acknowledged he probably couldn’t feel. But there was nothing they could do about it, so Minato packed his few belongings again and was gone.

Had they known what was waiting for them - had he realized the abrupt downward spiral his life was about to take - perhaps he would have mustered the care to ask to stay.

But they had no way to know.

The first sign that something was… off… was on the way to the address he’d been given. Shinjuku had residential areas, of course - nice ones, even. But the address didn’t lead him to a nice one. It was a ragged, run-down area, with dirty alleyways and narrowed glances sent out covered windows.

The fact that it was just outside Kabukicho didn’t help.

It set him on-edge despite himself, and for the first time in years Death pushed against the seal hard enough for it to burn.

“It’s not the midnight hour, not for a couple more hours,” he thought to the Shadow, watching a group of shady looking men muttering in an alleyway from the corner of his eye. “Even if you broke through the seal you couldn’t manifest.”

“It’s possible that I could,” the Shadow shot back. “We’ve never attempted it.”

“We’ve never seen any Shadows out in the daylight, only during the midnight hour,” Minato pointed out, taking a step to the side as a ragged cat hissed at him from under a dumpster.

“I’m not a normal Shadow.”

Minato didn’t respond.

They didn’t know what would happen if Death broke fully through the seal, but it probably wouldn’t be anything good. So Minato would just have to try and avoid being put into a position where it was necessary.

Easier said than done as he quickly found out. His… aunt? cousin? he wasn’t quite sure and she didn’t clarify so whatever- apparently worked in Kabukicho as supposedly a hostess, and had only agreed to take him in because she was hoping he would be a second source of income. Which, given the kinds of places in this area that would be willing to hire a junior high student, did not bode well for his likelihood for staying out of danger.

Death was irritated on his behalf, but it wasn’t as though they could really do anything about it. Any authority figures would just turn a blind eye - that became apparent the moment he arrived at school and met his homeroom teacher, and then the rest of the teachers were no better - and she hadn’t done anything to him yet so he couldn’t use anything against her.

She’d just made it clear that if he wanted to eat he’d bring home enough money to make it worth feeding him.

So he quietly asked around. Several of the other students in his class also had jobs, though whether it was for a similar reason he didn’t know and didn’t bother asking, so he had a few options. Not many, and none of them particularly appealing, but unless he wanted to either starve to death or learn to steal he’d just have to accept it.

Minato settled on the job that seemed like the least effort and one of the ones less likely to be directly tied to any potential host club scams or yakuza operations.

Washing dishes at the back of a host club wasn’t exactly fun, but it avoided the risk of being caught by any police or getting caught up in any drug trafficking. And the midnight hour meant he could grab an hour long nap in the middle so… it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. His sleep and grades both suffered for it, but no one was expecting him to have good grades anyway and none of the teachers cared to check why it was happening, so… he supposed it was convenient.

It was… fine.

It was fine. It was tolerable, no matter how frustrated Death got, and he could deal with the constant smell of cigarettes and alcohol all around him, could wrinkle his nose and turn away to his book or homework when she came back smelling of alcohol and sex, could tune out the chatter and flirtations from the room over at the club, could ignore the rumbled clothes and bruises peeking out on skin from the hosts and hostesses around the area.

Minato kept his head down, didn’t talk to anyone unless he had to, and no one really approached him. People in Tokyo - or at least this district of it - didn’t seem as bothered by whatever off-putting aura that had always scared everyone else, but they weren’t really inclined to bother with him either. Which suited him just fine.

Months passed easily enough, his cousin (as he eventually did find out) was satisfied for a while with the money that he did bring home and seemed happy enough that he wasn’t going to bother her or get in her way that she didn’t really bug him either unless she wanted one chore or another done while she was out.

She did kick him out a few nights a month to bring men home - though whether they were clients or boyfriends he didn’t know or care - but those were passed studying or doing homework in a cafe nearby that didn’t mind some kids in his situation hanging around all night provided they bought something every now and then. It wasn’t uncommon to see a few others around, sometimes he even studied with a couple of classmates or helped an elementary schooler out with their homework (except one who rebuffed him with a flash of red eyes and a snap that he could handle it himself), but largely he remained in his corner and tried to ignore the rest of the world as Death muttered and complained in his head.

He was equally pouty in his child form on those nights he joined Minato during the midnight hour, perching on the edge of his futon and casting annoyed glances across the room at his cousin on the other futon. Minato rolled his eyes and ignored him, until he flopped backwards and sprawled across Minato in a way that clearly demanded attention and Minato just patted his head and let him keep complaining about the people and world around them.

Minato hadn’t been expecting a christmas gift from her, but she seemed to be in a particularly good mood around that time so he didn’t question it. He supposed she’d caught the eye of a particularly affluent client or something because she suddenly had new clothes and jewelry. Plus decent takeout rather than Big Bang Burger or some other fast food chain.

But on christmas morning she cheerfully handed him a wrapped box with a comment that he’d earned something for his efforts this past year, and when he opened it with a quiet thank you he found an mp3 player and pair of headphones inside. It was the first present he’d gotten in years and quickly turned into the best he’d ever gotten.

It was something to drown out the tedium of the world, to filter out all the static and noise of the world around him into a steady, predictable, stable beat. Whenever it got too much he could simply put the headphones on and turn on the mp3 player and everything would fade away. A lifeline.

A necessary one, because things rapidly got worse after that. The giddiness that had clung to her throughout December began fading rapidly throughout February and into March. She got defensive and quiet, snappish, almost always on her phone, scrolling away as though looking for something. Biting her lip until it nearly bled - an unusual habit for someone so careful with her appearance.

It all came to a head around mid-April, just after the new school year had started, in the afternoon before Minato left for work. He was sitting at the low table, working on homework, when she suddenly made a snarling sound and started a phone call.

He quickly put on his headphones and turned on his music, tuning out whatever angry argument she was picking over the phone. It wasn’t his business, it wasn’t his problem.

It quickly became something near his problem when a bottle shattered against the wall dividing the kitchenette less than a meter away from his head and his gaze snapped up to find her glaring in his direction with eyes blazing and lips pulled into a snarl. Minato froze, unmoving even as Death reared up protectively in his soul and the seal burned beneath the weight of his presence. But a few moments passed of her glaring, chest heaving, before her mouth began moving again as she yelled something and he took note of her glassy eyes and distant gaze and he relaxed as she jerked her gaze away from him to continue shouting. She hadn’t been looking at him or aiming at him, he’d just been in an unfortunate direction. Death reluctantly faded back, but didn’t pull away entirely just yet.

He watched her shake her head desperately and fall to her knees on the floor as tears began streaming down her face and her other hand reached up to clutch at the desk of empty beer bottles she hadn’t gotten around to throwing out yet.

Or just throwing yet, apparently.

With a soft sigh Minato closed his workbook and leaned over to begin picking up the glass shards before one of them stepped on them. The bottle had at least been empty, so they wouldn’t have to deal with stains on the wood floor. The star of Sapporo sat wholly intact, almost mockingly, as he collected the glass in his hand.

By the time he’d finished picking up the glass and throwing it away, it seemed the call had ended and she was staring unseeing at the wall as tears streamed down her face. Minato stared at her for a moment before going back into the kitchen to fill a glass with water and pick up a cloth.

He knelt to set the water down in front of her and held out the cloth.

It took her a few moments to reach for it, but she did. She buried her face in it and sobbed.

Minato shrugged and returned to his spot at the table to continue his homework.

Things did not improve from there.

She became… unstable, switching between listless and desperate in the span of hours. If she was home without a client she was either drunk or drugged, and she either ignored him entirely or demanded he help out more. He quickly became the only one doing chores - if only to avoid being yelled at or risk having something thrown again - and after several months of her unable to bring home as much money as was satisfying to her he became the target of her ire for how little he was also bring back.

Comparatively, anyway.

He ignored it for several months hoping she’d get over whatever rich guy had gotten bored of her and leave him alone again, but it quickly became apparent that it wasn’t likely. It was only a matter of time before she began making threats again, and at Death’s urging Minato began considering his options.

A second part time job wasn’t particularly feasible given how much time the one he already had was taking. He could avoid being at the apartment as much as possible, but he still had to sleep sometime and the last thing he wanted was for her to decide she needed to hunt him down. He could use the midnight hour to shoplift, but that wouldn’t necessarily satisfy her if she wanted actual yen to use.

Well, he could try to start breaking into registers he supposed, but he didn’t know if he wanted to start dealing with the risks of that. Just because there weren’t people or camera didn’t mean there wouldn’t be evidence and just because Kabukicho had an underbelly didn’t mean it was actually illegal. He didn’t need the police to track him down using dna evidence or something. Besides, he had to set the standard somewhere.

He could take a different risk and get a more lucrative job elsewhere he supposed (Death didn’t like that option). He refused to work at the front-facing side of a club, but one of his classmates had talked about a package sorting job that paid well and was looking for a couple more people.

Minato had avoided it before - like most of his classmates did - because he didn’t really want to deal with drug smuggling. But it was a significantly higher pay, and his classmate had assured him that he’d been working there for three years and it really was just organizing packages into the correct address delivery bins. It really was just an ordinary job.

(So long as he didn’t open anything went unspoken.)

So with a heavy sigh and Death stewing angrily in the back of his soul, Minato followed his classmate to get recommended for the job. He was hired instantly, given a brief tour of the small warehouse, given an overview of how to organize the packages properly, warned not to open any of the packages for any reason, and then pointed at a stack that needed to go out the next morning.

The job wasn’t as bad as they’d both been concerned about. It really did seem like a normal sorting job. And it paid well.

None of which put Death at ease as he hovered almost painfully close to the seal constantly these days. It was getting to the point that Minato could almost feel the seal slowly dissolving as the nigh-painful tingling of it rapidly faded and Death came closer and closer to the forefront of his mind as the weeks passed.

Minato didn’t bother fighting him on it - the Shadow would worry regardless and if he did manage to break through the seal and manifest at least Minato wouldn’t have to deal with a fight himself.

(When had the worry of the consequences of the seal breaking faded? He could barely remember the robot girl who had sealed the Shadow inside him now, even if the guilt and grief in her eyes still haunted his dreams anytime he inhaled a lungful of smoke from somewhere. What did he care about the world? If Death broke free and destroyed it - well it wouldn’t be his problem for long.)

The uptick in money satisfied his cousin for the time being at least, so she went back to mostly ignoring him in favor of whatever poison she’d chosen for the day. He spent more time in the cafe than the apartment just for the smell alone, even when she hadn’t brought someone back.

The world faded more and more into the grey of exhausted numbness from there. An endless routine - get up, silently get ready for school, go to school, try not to sleep through his classes, leave for work, work until the daily quota was filled, go to the cafe to study until the midnight hour, leave once the hour was up and the cafe closed, return to the apartment and sleep, then get up again.

It was easy to lose track of the days when he didn’t talk to anyone and spent most of his time drowning out the world with his music. The date on the board and subjects of the lessons were really the only ties to reality that he had between the monochromatic repetition of everything else. The sudden uptick of pressure in the middle of the year to study hard and improve their grades in order to do well on high school entrance exams and get into a good school was a sudden shock to them all, and it did a little to break things up.

But even that quickly dulled back into routine - it was all just memorizing dates and facts and kanji and equations, and with Death in his head to help he wasn’t likely to do badly even if he didn’t bother trying.

Though even if he got accepted there was no guarantee he’d be able to attend. Given his cousin’s increasingly empty eyes and unstable attitude and inability to maintain her grip on money he highly doubted she’d be willing or able to pay for him to attend. Which was one more thing for Death to become angry over, but Minato didn’t really care much.

Even if he did attend, what then? It was just a continued routine. How likely was it that he’d make it to graduation and find somewhere decent to work?

Really, what was the point of it all?

Not that Death let him get away with that. As Minato had less and less motivation or will to bother even trying with anything, Death pushed harder and harder to make him. Pushing him to study, to do well on tests, to remember to eat lunch or dinner even if he continued to skip breakfast. Nudging him to stop by and try that restaurant, or get that soda from the machine with a weird name.

He was less enthused by Minato’s willingness to accept the can of Asahi beer from some of his classmates during one of their study sessions on the roof, but the taste alone meant that Minato wasn’t in any hurry to try it again. Not to mention the way it made the numb disassociation from the world even worse.

The sensation of a near-complete break from reality didn’t quite scare Minato, but it did unnerve him and the alarm it raised from Death only made it worse. So that wouldn’t be any sort of habit he would fall into.

Unlike some people he had to clean up after.

The high school issue was resolved when he got within the top ten marks in the school and was offered a scholarship to the closest high school. It was not what everyone had meant when they talked about a “good” high school, but anything was better than nothing so with a bit of prodding from Death he accepted.

Not that it really changed anything - other than the location, it was simply exchanging one routine for another and he quickly sank back into the grey numbness.

Nothing really broke through it for a while. He was distantly aware of his cousin getting paler and thinner, the desperation towards something rising, until a bit before summer she stumbled into the apartment and cornered him against the wall.

“I need you to get money,” she said, gripping his arm tightly.

Minato tilted his head, feeling Death rearing up close to the seal warily. “How much?”

“A million yen.”

“A million yen?” Death repeated incredulously.

Minato sent her a blank look. “That’s impossible.” How in the world could she possibly expect him to be able to get that much?

“What?” she asked dangerously, leaning close. “Do you even realize the situation we’re in?!”

“No. You never told me.”

Her face twisted into an expression of such frustration he thought she was about to start screaming. She didn’t, instead snapping, “That damn club is demanding a million yen from me for ‘services rendered’ - which is bullshit they’re a shitty club anyway - but now I have to pay it or my reputation and ability to get clients is ruined!”

That club? Had she- “How does a hostess fall for a host club scam?”

“I did not get scammed!” She shoved him against the wall and spun around to storm towards the desk against the opposite wall. “Just get the money.”

He considered for a moment. “No.”

Everything froze, before she slowly turned to stare at him with a darkness brewing in her eyes. “What?”

Minato stared at her blankly. “No. I told you that’s impossible. You got scammed, deal with it yourself. It’s not my problem.” He wasn’t going to get any homework done here. Picking up his bag, he turned to leave.

“Now wait just a damn minute you brat-”

He turned to look at her as she lunged for him and felt the seal burn, stretched so thin it was on the verge of snapping as Death lunged back with his presence, and she stumbled to a stop as the blood drained from her face. Minato waited for a moment before leaving.

He’d have to hope she wouldn’t retaliate.

Apparently Death had scared her enough in that moment to avoid him entirely, because she would barely even look at him other than the occasional glare if they happened to be home at the same time. So he tuned her out as well, putting his headphones on and ignoring her.

Trying to ignore the fact that she was looking more sick and exhausted by the month. It wasn’t like he could do anything about her irresponsibility - he was already giving her the money he was making, and unless he wanted to get actively involved with the yakuza he wasn’t going magically get a job that payed more.

Maybe if she stopped spending her money on ways to forget the problem she’d be able to deal with the issue. Minato had already caved and started shoplifting food during the midnight hour when she stopped bringing groceries home.

Death was getting more worried and frustrated as time passed, and was curling up next to Minato in human form nearly every night for the midnight hour. Sometimes they talked, but most of the time they just leaned against each other to derive what comfort they could. Death clung to him like he was afraid he was going to disappear, which was funny given that of the two of them Death was the one only tangible for an hour.

Death and the mp3 player were really Minato’s only lifelines by this point.

He probably should have been paying more attention. Should have accounted for human vulnerability and desperation and realized what she would end up turning to. Though he really didn’t know what he could have done about it even if he had known - she wouldn’t have listened to him if he told her not to anyway.

December was cold.

It always was, but it somehow felt colder standing in the back alleys a few blocks from Kabukicho’s streets under a flickering street light with a dozen men from a local street gang staring down Minato and his cousin. That explained why she’d rushed in and grabbed him, told him to come with her and hurry and be quiet.

What had she expected to happen if she ran from her debt after borrowing money?

At least it wasn’t the yakuza, he guessed, but this wasn’t really much better. She was shaking with terror next to him, tears welling in her eyes.

“P-Please-” she stuttered, “Give me a little more time! I’m working on it, I promise, we both are, so-”

“It’s been over six months, the hell much more time do ya need?” The man in front snapped, pulling his jacket back to rest his hand on his gun. “I don’t appreciate games, girlie, we got our own expenses. You said you’d have it paid back by now, and I’m holdin’ ya to your word.”

“I-I’m trying,” she protested, hugging herself. “I swear I am, I thought I’d have it by now but the club across the street keeps bribing people to help them steal our business! I’m doing everything I can, if I can get another couple of months-”

“That’s what you said three months ago!” Another one snarled, pulling out his own gun to aim at them. “We’re not gonna keep buying into the lies of a drug-addicted whore!”

“N-No, please-”

What was Minato supposed to do here? There were a dozen of them with guns, and even with Death straining as hard as he could against the seal - to the point where Minato could barely stand from the pain and was very sure that it was about to shatter completely - there wasn’t anything he could do outside the midnight hour. An aura of death didn’t do much good when the men were both used to death and very much armed.

Could he buy time? Even if he did, there wouldn’t be anywhere for them to run. He didn’t think he could defuse the situation when they were this angry over broken promises. He wasn’t going to make stupid promises he couldn’t keep either.

Minato didn’t really care about dying. If he died here… it was fine. He didn’t care. But Death did, and Death was one of the only things that Minato could bring himself to care about anymore, so he should at least put some effort into not dying. And he didn’t really want her to die either. She wasn’t exactly good, he didn’t really like her and she’d made too many mistakes, but that didn’t mean she deserved to die for it.

Not that deserving it had ever saved anyone.

Minato sighed. “Is killing us really going to solve anything?”

The man in front narrowed his eyes at him. “I don’t like being lied to, brat.”

“Not saying you should. But she is still paying you back, even if it’s not as quickly as she promised.” He shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets. “If you kill us you can’t get any money from us. I’m not defending her, just pointing it out.”

“You offering to take her place?” One of the men in the back sneered.

Minato sent them a flat look. “I’m already giving her all the money I make, so I kind of already have.”

There were snorts and scoffs from several of them and the man in front smirked. “Sounds like you’re not in the right business then, boy. How about I cut you a deal - I’ll get you a job that you can pay us back in no time, and we’ll let you both walk away from this alive. Do a good enough job and we’ll even let you keep the extra.”

Well that wasn’t an obvious hook or anything. It was probably some sort of smuggling, and they needed someone as unsuspicious as possible to the police. He wasn’t really interested in getting dragged into that because people who got involved rarely left, but they didn’t really have many options either.

“Stall them until midnight and we’ll have plenty of options,” Death growled, clawing at the seal. “I hoped I’d be able to break out before then, but it’s more difficult than I anticipated.”

Ah. Killing them during the midnight hour was probably the easiest solution to the problem, yeah. Almost everyone turned into coffins, so letting Death break through the seal and then dealing with them one by one would be simple enough.

So Minato tilted his head at them. “What kind of job? I need details before I promise anything.”

“Do you really have room to negotiate here?” the man asked, pulling his own gun out and flipping the safety. Minato’s cousin gasped, stepping behind him and grabbing his arm.

Minato shrugged. “Not negotiating. Just making sure I can actually keep my promise before I make it.” He flicked a glance down at his mp3 player - ten minutes to midnight. He could keep them talking for ten minutes.

“Well I guess you’re smarter than that girl hiding behind you then. You don’t really get much of a choice in this if you want to live, though.”

That was assuming quite a bit that he cared about living, but whatever. “So? What do you want me to do?”

The man scoffed. “Well you’ve got spine and an attitude, I’ll give you that. It’s simple - we get packages goin’ to and comin’ from all sorts of places around Tokyo. You’ll be our little delivery boy. Nice, simple, and easy, yeah?”

Minato didn’t bother reacting. “Drugs or weapons? That will change how it needs to be handled.”

A nasty grin broke out across his face. “Oho, got ourself a bold one here, huh? Not even a flinch. Keep that attitude and you might do just fine. Bit o’ column A, bit o’ column B. Depends on the day, and our buyer or seller.”

Helpful. “That’s not much to go off of if you want me to start planning how to get them past the police. I didn’t grow up in Tokyo so I’m not as familiar with it’s blind spots as a native would be.” He wasn’t going to look at his mp3 player, he wasn’t going to try to count the minutes passing. Midnight would get here when it got here.

“Heh, I applaud the initiative but we won’t just leave ya flailin’ around blindly. We’ll pair you off with a couple of our other runners to start, let them teach you the ropes. We ain’t heartless, kid, just don’t like bein’ lied to.”

“Not heartless, merely willing to blackmail teenagers into smuggling illegal items for you,” Death hissed. “Be ready, Minato. It’s going to hurt when I break through the seal.”

“It always does. I’ll be fine; I’m used to it,” Minato thought back, watching the gang mutter amongst themselves. “So you say. I suppose if I get caught I’ll be left to fend for myself?”

The man shrugged lightly. “We gotta take care of ourselves first. Consider it motivation not to get caught, yeah?”

He’d figured.

“No. No, not again, not like this.” The smallest whisper came from behind him, and he had a moment of confusion followed by an unexpected bolt of dread as his cousin suddenly straightened with teary eyes and stepped out from behind him.

“Don’t-” he began- but she didn’t listen.

Why? Why did she choose now to grow a conscience?

“Enough! He’s got nothing to do with this - I’ll clear the debt myself, I promise! There’s no reason to drag him into this even more and I won’t let you-!”

A shot rang out. It echoed around the empty alleyway and rang loudly in his ears. Pain burned burned burned more fiercely than it ever had before in his chest and he was frozen, eyes wide as his breath struggled to come. He almost expected to feel blood on his chest, wished that he could feel blood on his chest, but it wasn’t him who’d been shot.

She let out a shuddering little choked gasp, and Minato turned to see her reaching up to clutch at the wound with wide, horrified eyes. He couldn’t- he couldn’t breathe as she staggered and fell- blood pooling around her as the light above them flickered-

-fire flickered and flashed off the metal, shimmering in the pooling blood, and he saw his mother burned and broken as she smiled hopelessly at him and begged him to live as she and his father and his twin sister wouldn’t and- he couldn’t move- couldn’t help- he was completely helpless-

The men jeering and bickering lightly was distant in his ears as the world faded into a distant grey and the pain burned and the world suddenly shuddered and shifted around them as the moon flashed green-

-and the men’s laughter turned into something startled and alarmed but he could barely hear them and he wasn’t listening-

-and a scream of pain suddenly echoed and bounced off the alleyway as the ground rose up to meet him and his knees hit the blood-covered pavement and his chest felt like it tore itself open and another more monstrous scream joined his own and he distant heard the gang’s voices rise as well-

The blood on his chest and staining his shirt was his own from where the seal had been torn open and Death emerged. The blood on his hands and on his knees were hers. Hers where she was lying on her front surrounded by the pool of her own blood, and he struggled to balance as he leaned forward and rolled her over onto her back. She was still just barely breathing, eyes glazed and distant through her tears.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, staring up at the green-tinged moon. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry for everything. I’m sorry Minoru-kun, I messed up again. I didn’t mean to, I didn’t want this. Please forgive me, please I’m sorry, I didn’t want you to die. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to, I wanted to live and go see Paris and New York and London like we promised we would-” she choked and coughed, blood streaking her lips as her hand shakingly reached up. Minato reached out and took it, holding it between his as she struggled to breathe. “Please help me. Please don’t let me die, I have so many more things I want to do.” Tears streaked down her face to mix with the blood. “Please, Minoru-kun I’m not ready to follow you yet…”

Minato just distantly watched her and held her hand as she slowly went still and cold and even the echoing screams of the gang members eventually stopped. Everything felt distant and painful and he couldn’t bring himself to move even once Death returned to his side with bloody swords.

He wondered if he was supposed to cry here. If he was supposed to feel grief and loss the way everyone had said he should for his parents and sister. If he was supposed to feel anything beyond the disconnected exhaustion and pain of the shattered seal.

“What am I supposed to do?” he wondered aloud, staring down at his cousin’s body blankly.

A soft sigh came from above him, and suddenly Death had discarded his swords and knelt down to wrap his arms around Minato. “I think we both know that normal rules do not apply to you.” A pause, and his grip tightened. “I am sorry for that. It is my presence that has stolen pieces of your humanity and suppressed your emotions.”

Well they hadn’t talked about it, but it made sense.

Minato let go of her hand and twisted around to lean against Death. “Maybe. I don’t blame you for it though.”

“… I know. Perhaps it would be easier if you did.”

“I doubt it. I waste enough energy on just staying alive. Hating you or the robot on top of it just sounds exhausting.”

Death let out a noise somewhere between a sigh and a laugh. “I would say that I don’t understand you, but I unfortunately do after spending nearly ten years in your soul.”

Minato hummed tiredly, closing his eyes and trying to tune out the pain still stinging his chest and blood still seeping through his shirt. “Whatever consequences it may have,” he said quietly, “I’m glad you did. I wouldn’t have wanted to go through this without you.” His lifeline. One of the two things that kept him sane and grounded in the static haze of this life.

The Shadow let out a shuddering breath and hugged him tighter. “I am glad that my presence has brought you something other than pain, at least.”

“Death, you’ve been my best friend for most of my life now. I’ve been with you longer than I’ve been without you.” He reached up rest a hand on his shoulder. “You should know by now that you’ve given me plenty more than pain.”

Death went still for a long, long moment, and Minato waited for him to process and accept that before responding. When he did, he caught Minato off-guard. “I suppose I can’t deny that. But… Death is not accurate for who I am anymore. For whatever I may have given you, you’ve given me far, far more.” Minato blinked his eyes opened and craned his neck to look up at him. “I am Thanatos - and you have given me so much of yourself, shared so much of your soul with me even beyond the nature of the seal, that I have become a Persona.”

“A Persona?” There was psychology terminology in the back of his mind that he couldn’t quite remember through the exhaustion of the night’s events.

“An aspect or manifestation of your soul. It’s-” he paused, amending, “-likely a bit too complex to explain in your current state. In normal cases a Shadow is the parts of yourself you deny, a Persona is the part of yourself you accept and project unto yourself. I’m a special case, for obvious reasons. Consider me an extension of your soul who wants to protect you, for now.”

“That’s what you’ve been for years,” Minato muttered, closing his eyes again. “So even thought the seal is broken now, you’re staying?”

“Yes. I’m not leaving you alone. I’ll remain at your side for as long as I can.”

“Saying it like that makes it sound like you’ll leave eventually.”

Dea-Thanatos was silent for a moment, and Minato felt his bone chin brush his head. “… eventually I may have no choice, and I’m sorry for that. If I had my way I would remain by your side forever.”

“But?”

“But I have a feeling the events from nine years ago are going to come back and haunt us soon. Death was separated into many parts that were scattered, and I was sealed within you. If those parts are rejoined, Death will come again and usher in Nyx. I will have no choice.”

“We can’t just prevent the pieces from being rejoined?”

“I doubt it. Nyx, even incomplete, is the source of the midnight hour and the Shadows. So long as we exist, so to will they and so too will the Shadows. I suspect things will come to a head very soon.”

“And we’ll be in the center of it,” Minato sighed, tipping his head against him. “Okay. I still want you to stay with me. As long as you can.” He wasn’t sure what his life would be like without Thanatos, but given how much the Shadow had been a constant companion and push forward he doubted it would be better.

“I will. You should sleep - my breaking through the seal exhausted you thoroughly. I’ll keep watch and prevent any Shadows from coming near until the hour is over. From there, though…”

“Someone will see the bodies and call the police,” Minato murmured as he finally began giving in to sleep. “Since I’m injured too I probably won’t get in trouble.” Hopefully. Whatever Thanatos had done to the gang members, it definitely wasn’t something he could be blamed for.

“Then rest - you’ll need it.”

~ ᙙᙖ ~

Minato woke up in the hospital a week later.

It was incredibly disorienting to experience - the neutral tones of the room, the beeping of the monitor, the IV in his arm, the fuzziness in his head - but Death- Thanatos- rose up to press against the back of his mind with a familiar reassuring coolness that helped chase away the worst of the confusion.

As long as he was still here, it was fine.

It took several long minutes of just thinking and reorienting himself to remember what had happened. While he didn’t feel the grief or pain everyone seemed to expect from these things, there was at least a twinge of regret that things had turned out as they had.

But what was done was done - there was nothing he could do about it. No one could change the past. Time moved forward regardless of wishes.

So he move forward with it. When the police questioned him what had happened he was mostly honest - until the events of the midnight hour happened when he feigned confusion. His cousin had been shot by the gang, and yeah he looked like he’d been stabbed but he was pretty sure it had been from behind, and he had no idea what happened to the gang because he’d passed out after being stabbed with a knife.

He was pretty sure the police came to the conclusion that his cousin had been involved with a yakuza or something, but she clearly hadn’t told him anything about her job so he somehow wasn’t held responsible for any of her actions and was simply handed off to his uncle - a high ranking and very wealthy businessman also in Tokyo - although in the Shimbashi district instead of Shinjuku.

Sure. Whatever.

His uncle was… distant, at best. Much like his other cousin had been, the man was busy with his work and wasn’t interested in interacting with him beyond the necessities. That was more than fine with Minato - it was nice to be invisible and self-sufficient without expectation again. He even got an allowance without needing to get a job again. It was a minor relief he hadn’t expected to feel, but it was there.

He still went to the same high school for the final three months but his uncle explained that he’d be leaving for an overseas business trip around March so Minato would be transferring to a different high school with dorms for the next year.

Minato was incredulous for… several reasons. The fact that his uncle was going out of his way to ensure he’d be… safe? successful? not left completely alone? for the year was surprising enough. The fact that it was an incredibly expensive private high school was even more so.

At least until he was told the name.

Iwatodai High School, on Tatsumi Port Island just outside Tokyo Bay.

It sent Thanatos on immediate high alert, and Minato understood a few moments later. The Moonlight Bridge leading to the island was where his parents had died and Death had been sealed inside him.

The the island itself was where everything began.

Thanatos had been right - the events of nine, nearly ten, years past were coming back to haunt them.

He didn’t show any of the realizations on his face, but he had a feeling that this wasn’t a coincidence. The man gained custody of him and immediately went on a business trip oversees and sent him to the island where this had all begun nearly ten years ago?

Especially now that Thanatos had broken through the seal.

His uncle may not know anything about what had happened, but someone did and this was no coincidence.

And so, come April, Minato left Tokyo proper and got on the train heading to Tatsumi Port Island for the year. Even with his headphones on and music blaring in his ears it couldn’t quite drown out the world around him this time. The buzzing beneath his skin from Thanatos was agitating, stirring up his own feelings of apprehension.

Whatever was waiting for them - scientists and laboratories and Shadows and Personas and at the end of it all the personification of death itself, and maybe, just maybe, a robot girl who had looked at him with such sorrow ten years past - most of it probably wouldn’t be good.

He probably wouldn’t even survive it.

But at the very least, he thought as he stepped from the station and into the coffin-strewn street to the dorms, he wouldn’t be alone through it. Thanatos would stay with him.

Although getting to the dorms and finding him smiling cheerfully behind the check-in desk with a quip that he was here awfully late made him suspect that the Shadow- Persona, would likely be stepping up his obnoxiousness and pushiness towards socializing and trying things.

… the contract was unexpected, but Thanatos likely had his reasons - even if he was pointedly keeping them to himself for the moment - so Minato just sighed and signed the book. As he handed it over he asked, “Are you planning to tell me what that’s about?”

Thanatos just smiled enigmatically at him, folding the contract close to his chest as though it was something precious. “All in due time, my dear Minato. All questions will be answered and all secrets revealed soon enough.” He closed his eyes thoughtfully for a moment. “No one can escape time. It delivers all equally to the same end.” He focused back on Minato and the fold vanished with a twist of his wrist. “You can’t plug your ears or cover your eyes to escape.”

The lights of the dorm began fading around them, shadows creeping up the walls and across the floor, and Thanatos smiled and reached out to Minato as they wrapped around him.

“And so it begins.”

And then he was gone, returning back to Minato’s soul with something mischievous about him that Minato didn’t feel like figuring out, and Minato was left standing along in the dark entranceway.

No one could escape the end. He’d known that.

They both knew that whatever happened in this place, during this year, would be an ending of sorts. It was just a matter of what kind of end. He placed a hand on his chest, where the scar from the seal still lay. But whatever it was - they couldn’t escape it. They knew that.

So they would just have to take what happened as it was, no matter what it brought.

He was at the beginning of the end.

“Who’s there?!”

~ ᙙᙖ ~

This was fun! It was also twice as long as it was supposed to be, but such is my curse with writing these days. The Ryomina was more implied than explicitly stated, admittedly, but I got caught up in the childhood friends part of it.

Also blink and you miss it Akechi cameo lol

[thequeenpapaya]

My first Hazbin fic I suppose. Trigger warning for ED content, don’t read if it could be triggering <3 take care of yourself babes. Very important!

(Fic below the cut)

“Are you really eating all that?”

“You’ll get fat, I’m surprised you’re not already.”

He usually just tells people to fuck off, or laughs about it. It irks him that stupid comments from nobodies even stick to him, that they matter to him. They shouldn’t.

He’s above that.

At least, Adam likes to think he is.

He used to be. Before it started to really sink in, he supposed. Before phones started becoming a thing in heaven. But he’s still above it, right?

He’s the first man. If anything, other people should be looking to HIM for the ideal. Not the other way around.

So he doesn’t really know why he spends his time worrying. Why he grits his teeth and scrolls through social media posts about ways to look better. Be better.

Portion control. Exercise. Counting calories. Don’t eat too much. Eat the right things.

But that’s the problem. Adam feels like he can’t. He would never admit it, but he doesn’t want to exercise beyond what he already does. He’s lazy. He doesn’t want to count calories and eat only healthy things.

It just tastes too good. His guilty pleasures. The grease of it, the feeling of the food on his tastebuds. It makes him happy, in the moment at least. Even if the aftermath isn’t as serotonin filled as the act of eating itself gives.

But he found a workaround, a way to have the best of both worlds… a way to get an even better feeling of euphoria. One that makes the enjoyment of food seem like just the buildup for the real drug. So euphoric as he revels in the feeling he gets of emptiness and control.

And yet it’s so… dirty. Like a secret you keep from everyone out of fear they’d find you disgusting. The thought of anyone knowing how he keeps in shape fills him with a deep sense of dread.

But it’s not wrong. He’s not doing anything bad. Angels are supposed to be perfect, in all ways. If he has to shove his fingers down his throat to stay slim, what’s the harm? It’s not hurting him.

Not physically.

And just because he thinks about food a lot, what to eat, and how to purge, when to purge, if he got it all up… well—that doesn’t mean it’s affecting him mentally either! He’s just dedicated to the craft.

He’s fine. Obviously. It’s just everyone else that would act weird about it. It’s a them problem.

“Sir, are you okay?” Lute’s voice pierces through the brain fog. Adam didn’t even realize he was spacing out before her eyes narrow at him… in, concern? No, maybe just annoyance.

“Uhhh… yeah? Why the fuck wouldn’t I be?” Adam grins at her like it was a dumb question to even ask. Because it was.

“You’ve been quiet for the past five minutes.” Her voice is even and factual. Arms folded behind her back, same still pose.

“And that’s not allowed? Jesus, can’t do anything these days.”

“It’s just not like you. You usually talk more.”

Yeah, he knows that. It wasn’t like he meant to space out. He was just… thinking. Adam grips his wrist, subconsciously wrapping his fingers around it. Not that it told him much—he had long fingers. But it soothed him to be able to wrap them around anyway, all the way. With space to spare too.

“What, you just wanted to hear my awesome voice? You can just say that instead of acting all—eughh… worried?” Adam sticks his tongue out in disgust. “Sooo not like you, freaks me the fuck out. Don’t. It’s cringe.”

Lute groans, rolling her eyes at him. Clearly whatever concern she might have had evaporated when he went back to acting normal again. Which was good. He didn’t need it.

He was so in the clear.

“… have you lost weight?”

Or not. What the f—

“What? No? Why?” Adam replies, extremely quickly too. A nervous laugh leaving him as he realizes how absolutely guilty he sounds. It was just a question, chill out. It was a good thing too, so why the reaction?

“Err… I mean, yeah I have. Just a little bit, I guess. Why are you even asking?”

“Because you look thinner, that’s why I asked.” Lute really never takes any shit, does she? Always straight to the point… Adam did like that about her.

“Thanks. I work for this body, you know?~” Adam raises an eyebrow as he smirks at her. He felt a little more happy, more confident. Nobody really commented on his body, well, outside sex.

“It wasn’t meant as a compliment.”

That cut his mood instantly. His smile dropped off his face as if it had never even been there at all.

“Excuse you? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” He didn’t intend for his response to sound so defensive and angry. It just came out like that, and he couldn’t calm down. He wasn’t even registering that he should try to cool down.

Lute notices the shift, of course. Her eyes narrowing further at him, like she’s analyzing him. His behavior. Adam feels uncomfortable, which only fuels the defensiveness.

“I mean that you’ve been getting thinner for a while, I just didn’t see a point in bringing it up before now.” Hearing her say that frustrated Adam more. What did she mean she’d noticed? And hadn’t even complimented him at all!? Honestly, rude if you ask him.

“And why would you bring it up now then?” He asks, glaring a little.

“Because you’re starting to look unhealthy.” Her gaze is now very accusatory. Like she’s expecting him to give some sort of explanation.

“I’m sorry, unhealthy? Me? Don’t even—I’m hot as fuck! I’m peak fucking performance right here!” Adam laughs, it’s a little forced. Sounding more like he can’t believe this conversation is even being had.

“I’m not fucking unhealthy. I look great, the best I ever have as a matter of fact. How would you know what the fuck I look like anyway? My outfit is loose.” Now he’s the one narrowing his eyes at her. He knew she was perceptive, but he didn’t think anyone could really… see his body.

“I can just tell. What does it matter how?” Lute scowls, already getting fed up with him.

“It matters because it’s a fucking lie.” Adam didn’t think he looked bad. If anything he was happier with how he looked now then what he did before.

Lute scoffs, and stays quiet for a few seconds. Thinking to herself. Then she gets this look, like she just put something together. The expression on her face says it all about how she feels.

“You know it’s a sin to—“ Lute starts to speak, her tone cold, and Adam already knows what she’s going to say. Because she’s mentioned it before. That she thinks he’s weird for always disappearing for so long into the bathroom after he eats. Maybe she really had figured it out.

After all, he is eating like a pig most days, yet he’s losing some weight? Maybe nobody but her notices because nobody else cares to notice.

But he knows— she wouldn’t approve, she doesn’t seem like she’s about to approve that’s for sure.

So he cuts her off before she can finish.

“You know what? I’m done with this conversation. If you’re gonna be a bitch, I don’t wanna listen.”

He scoffs and stalks off. Frustration and anger boiling in his chest. Nobody had any right to tell him he was somehow not right, he was completely fine. Perfect even.

Despite telling himself this, all the feelings bubble and boil inside him. Going from his chest and settling in his stomach. Feeling heavy. Like the heavy feeling of a meal weighing him down like bricks, solid cement in his stomach.

He doesn’t want to feel like this. And there’s always one thing that makes him feel lighter. Better. Emptier.

Finding himself back in front of the toilet, on his knees. A common occurrence for him by now, his mask off to the side, on top of the sink. Blank face looking down at him as he shoves two long fingers all the way back into his throat…

Adam doesn’t know when it went from just a thought, to doing it. From only doing it when he overate on sweets. To only when he ate sweets and when he ate too much in a meal. To only each meal. To only… everytime he eats.

He doesn’t even have anything to throw up. As he gags and coughs, the back of his throat convulsing around his fingers as he presses down. Only pulling them out last second as he retches, when stomach acid burns his mouth and spill out.

Only once is never enough, of course. He always needs to make sure the bile is clear. That there’s nothing left. That usually takes a while, since he tends to eat a lot in one go. He’s gonna puke it anyway, so why not go crazy?

But it’s already clear. So why does he shove his fingers in again? Because that high hasn’t come yet? The feeling of euphoria he gets knowing he got rid of it all?

Maybe once he purges these uncomfortable feelings, he’ll stop. His stomach already feels lighter, cleaner. It hurt too, but it hurt in the best way possible.

It’s not before he sees speck of golden blood splash into the water that he stops. Not because he’s worried, he knows he will be fine. He’s an angel, he’s fucking Adam. He’s always gonna be fine.

Blood just meant he was doing it as right as he could… yeah?

He coughs a little. Hand wet with saliva, dripping down his forearm. He flushes the vomit and stands up, feeling much lighter then when he knelt down.

Looking at his reflection as he washes his hands felt like looking at a stranger at times. He rarely went without his mask… seeing his pale face staring back at him, eyes red and teary. Slightly puffy cheeks contrasting his thin hands. Golden feathers behind him looking dull, lifeless.

All he can think in that moment isn’t that he doesn’t look well, that maybe he’s not so fine. Because it’s not normal to do this, is it? Nobody else seems to do it here, if they do they aren’t talking about it.

No… all he can think about is how the puffy cheeks make him look fat. It makes him feel sick all over again, the only thing keeping him from punching the mirror is the fact he puts his mask back on before he gets overwhelmed.

But he’s fine. He always will be. Adam smiles, the holographic face staring back betrays no sort of turmoil he might be feeling deep down.

If he can’t see his own pain, then nobody else will either. He doesn’t want them to… he doesn’t want to.

“You got this. You’re fine, better than fine.”

Adam almost believes it himself. That’s all that matters right now. If he believes it, it’s true.

It has to be.

[rosepais]

Set Me Free

She stood on a stage surrounded by a thin black sheet of glass. There were many people sitting outside watching her whereas she could see none. She held the mike stand so tight so that she does not fall. The sweat tinkled down from her chest to the navel, making her fear visible on her clothes.

“Why do I have to do this” she thought to herself. Is it necessary to come out? She trembled as the memories gushed into her brain, her lips dry and her throat swallowing the shame, the fear of the aftermath. Would she be able to withstand the blame? Why can’t secrets be taken to the grave? It is ok to have wings and not fly. It is ok to be sad, hopeless and disturbed, yet deny.

She prayed for this trauma to stop. She begged for her thoughts to go. It only made her numb ever more with pain. A deep secret within her stayed on, although she tried to let go, but in vain.

A very long ago, when she was little, she knew of many people who were not so little. They were family and few friends of the parents. They were good people, who helped, shared and cared. She ran, she jumped, she played with them. She sat on their laps and listened to stories. She was carried and caressed and fed. She would rest with them on the bed, woke up with them and visited places. Day’s and night passed by with these people by her side. She was a happy child, who could deny. Her life was perfect, until one day, something had happened at night she recalled, her life had changed from there on in every single way.

Whom could she blame? Should she even blame? Unaware of what it even meant. Her parents were careless and free not aware of the tragedy that had happened to their bumble bee. She does not know. She demands to know, yet she rather remains silent. For couple of weeks she bore the pain of the wound dug in her body secretly, which later turned to be a scar in her heart. She ran, she jumped, she played with glee. But then she would slow down and remember what had been done to her. “Was it ok? Maybe yes, I am overthinking. Why would anyone want to harm a small child?” She consoled herself.

She ached to tell somebody. She wanted to understand. She looked around for answers but everyone and everything seemed normal, yet her heart pumped in doubt.

She turned towards her Mother. She opened her mouth to reveal. Her Mother was on the phone, congratulating and sharing the joy of the new of wedding bells ringing. “I guess what happened isn’t bad at all! Maybe I am over reacting. Why would anyone do things like that with a child?” She turned back and sat down for homework. It was Math. Born intelligent! She didn’t know what that meant anymore. She could not solve problems; she could not read. She didn’t concentrate at school or have real friends. Her parents didn’t understand her, they constantly compared.

One day she grew tall enough to reach the mirror. She stood there smiling at herself. “I am pretty, I am good, my eyes define; the pain that has been following since I was a child, yet no one shall see, for no one knows, the secret shall go with me, wherever I go. No person shall hear my soul screaming within, no Man shall know the wound that has set in; My hair is so long. My nose looks so naughty, what lies do they hide? My lips feel tender and my arms have grown strong. My skin feels soft and fine. What is this? Its growing big, this must be the breasts, which means I am growing, and I am finally 9”

Her Mother caught her in the act, beat her black and blue. She covered the mirror with sheets of paper and said, “You must not touch you”!!!

She sunk deep and accepted defeat. If I must not touch me, then was it ok that he touched me? “

Days passed by and became years. She finally realized what it meant and shed many tears. She could not contain her hormones were restless. She blew it out of proportion, but no one could care less.

Her Mother yelled “Why didn’t you tell me when it happened? Who was it? Do we know them?”

What could she say other than “Leave it, it doesn’t matter”; But still she wanted to come out, but it was not easy. For these not so little people who did wrong, were old now with families of their own.

It would shatter every soul, every smile. It would break their ground and they would deny. Would her parents believe; “after all you were just a kid”. What would you know if it was wrong or right? what justice would it service now, 30 years later!

She cried herself to sleep. Her wounds healed by scars remained. She met good men, but the trust would never regain.

She went to sleep that night, dreaming of her Mother. Yelling and screaming asking her to come out and point out those who did that to her. She stood there on the stage not knowing who was on the other side. One by one she spilled out the names and fell to the ground when she was done.

She woke up screaming, all sweaty and scared. She knew it then, it was just a dream, this is going with her to the grave.

Now she has an offspring, she knows for sure, no evil could touch her bumble bee no more. She protects it like an angel who has a halo and a sword.

Touch my little body and you will see the devil’s wrath. This is not your toy to play with or break it when your done. It is the temple of my soul pure and tidy. If you do not treat it right, you are not worthy.

This blog post is part of the blog challenge ‘Blogaberry Dazzle’ hosted by Cindy D’Silva and Noor Anand Chawla.  

[dewracle]

Unofficial Sleep Token Headcanon/Lore

A guide to AruEternity's Vessels

Hello lovies, I am taking inspo from one of my friends here. Everyone has their own versions of the vessels and their own ocs, I just would like to share mine with yall! So everything you read here is ALL HEADCANONS!! Please keep that in mind during this. I will be using names that I hope and pray aren’t the actual vessels' names, (I will cry if it is and most likely change them.) But again this is just how I see my boys; none of this is solid or finished yet. Little lore overview, none of the vessels are human anymore due to their past and their meeting with Sleep. Sleep in this version is a rouge god who typically follows the idea of having angels under him/to help him. He can change people and remake them similarly to how he is doing with the vessels. If Sleep were to go without a vessel or a connection to a vessel for a long period of time he becomes weak and slowly dies. It is the idea that for a god to live, they need followers. All the vessels change in their own ways and are molded by Sleep to fit what he wants out of them. He can reset the timeline if he deems the vessels to be defective/not up to standard. The timeline so far has been reset roughly 100 times, the only ones with active memory of this is Sleep and his angels.

TW: Sexual themes, SA, Drug-use, Major character death, OD, Depression, Minor character death, suicidal ideation, if I've missed any please let me know!

Vessel

Name - Elliot Burns

Age - 28

Height - 6’2

Personality -

Spreactic and almost loving aggressive. His devotion to Sleep distracts him often so he is normally seen as quiet and or loving to the others. While he doesn’t like being alone he is okay with it sometimes… Other times it brings up the anxious part of himself. Super affectionate and loving but in a “please don’t notice” way. Becomes slightly violent when things are no longer in his control/he cannot understand them/

Connection to Sleep -

Sleep’s main vessel, the one who he always turns to. Elliot was the first real worshipper of Sleep gaining him a strong connection to the deity. Their relationship is a toxic “I cannot live without you” type. 

Transformation -

3 total sets of eyes are similarly placed where his mask is, all glowing with soft white light. The bottom half of his face is skinned leaving his teeth exposed. As for his teeth, his K9s go down past his bottom lip and are extremely sharp. Emits a gentle black smoke from his mouth and body. Giant split down the middle of his chest, breastbone to belly button, this is where a closed human eye sits and never opens.

Mini backstory - Very short 

Elliot was an obsessive lover, going out of his way to make anything come true for his girlfriend of the time. They had been together for a while before she started to pull away slowly. This caused an extreme fight with them and a car crash that injured his lover. Shortly after they ended up breaking up due to her blaming him for everything and finally coming clean she didn’t love him for him. Elliot in a fit of anger began to search for ways to get her back and to make her love him. Unfortunately, nothing worked, not even the magic research he did. That was until one-night Sleep came to him in a dream and guided him to someone who could guide him to him.

II

Name - Silas Palmer 

Age - 24

Height - 5’6

Personality 

The calmest out of all the vessels. Seems always to be sitting alone trying to draw and or get high. He doesn’t personally care for the drama but is the one everyone comes to when there is something going wrong. Very “wise” and helps guide others. Silas does have a Playboy vibe and will act on it on rare occasions. 

Connection to Sleep -

Sleep’s second most trusted vessel. However, their relationship is strained due to the forcefulness of Silas’ connecting/bonding with Sleep. Silas has forgiven Sleep after years of struggling with the aftermath, seeing the pack as the only ones he needs due to their willingness to accept his gender identity. 

Transformation -

Skinned mouth starting from just behind his teeth. Stretch marks from the stress of the mouth going closer into/near his eyes. A sewed shut-eye in the middle of his forehead that softly glows and moves behind the lid. Smaller cuts/scars scattering his body where eyes would grow if needed. Many of the scars are from fights with the other vessels. 

Mini backstory -

Growing up in the incorrect body had caused him many issues with friends and family. Many did not understand or chose to understand how Silas was feeling. It was a constant struggle throughout high school and college. Eventually, he was able to save up enough money by working himself exhausted to get top surgery. While being the happiest moment in his life so far, he was no longer in contact with his old friends or family. Silas was disowned for finally achieving his dream. Slowly he turned to alcohol to ease the pain of being alone. Eventually, he was able to meet someone who he thought would love him for him. Unfortunately, the relationship turned abusive after Silas was unable to quit drinking. His girlfriend pushed him away after hitting him many times over again.

III

Name - (Finn)egan Ridge

Age - 23

Height - 6’4

Personality -

The fun-loving chaos-causing type of person. He loves to play jokes and is always hyper no matter what. He does have moments when he is calm but most of the time he isn’t. Loves to do things he thinks others will laugh at.

Connection to Sleep -

Sleep’s third vessel. Sleep sees him as an entertaining person who gains the attention of many people. While this can be fun at times, he does also punish him often when he is “annoying.” Believes III needs to be safe but also wants to hurt him by influencing the others. 

Transformation -

Asides from the deep ashy black that covers most of his chest and back, he is etched with the language of Sleep. His body being covered by some stories told by Sleep. The language mostly covers his arms and legs, while he does also have thick lettering wrapping around his wrist. At the base of his neck/collarbone and his lower back, there is a small area where a possible eye could form.

Mini backstory -

Was the miracle baby that his family had always wanted. Ended up doing everything for them and tried his best. After going into college he learned it wasn’t for him so his grades started to slip and he fell into using heavy drugs. Slowly he turned into the college drug dealer which got him kicked out. His family had still sent him money because he never told them. Eventually after becoming very popular in his dealings, he was able to gain a lot of money. With this money, he bought and used drugs alongside buying prostitutes for himself. After hiring the wrong person, they forced him to attempt to OD, he was turned into a prostitute himself after “saving his life” Here he met someone he deemed ‘‘Sugar” and enjoyed the buyer's company. Sadly the pimp he worked for did not like this and killed Finn in front of Sugar.

IV 

Name - Felix Payne 

Age - 27

Height - 6’0

Personality -

He is seen as aggressive and quiet. Felix is mostly angry at himself rather than others, making him quiet and always anxious. He fears that one day he’ll up and leave like his father did again. Felix is anxiously attached to everyone but refuses to let them in. Though he can be loving at times he holds those close for the fear of losing the moment. 

Connection to Sleep -

Sleep’s 4th vessel. He sees him similarly as Elliot, with a strong connection even though he is not the strongest vessel. Sleep pities the boy so he picks him to use whenever he is feeling especially angry. Which in turn has turned Felix into an even more angry person. 

Transformation -

Has gold and red bands inked into his body that circles his wrist, fingers, ankles, thighs, and neck. They are technically not tattoos just an add-on to the already deep ashy black that they are all changing to. While he doesn’t have eyes on his body, he does have a moon shape (the moon logo) under his chin/jaw area. As a punishment or if Sleep is feeling it, the golden bands on his neck slowly turn into a thorn crown that rests on his eyes. It rarely happens since he tries not to upset Sleep. 

Mini backstory -

Had a mostly good life besides having to deal with a dad who left and came back 24/7. He was forced into playing the perfect family, this later turned into his own form of trauma and learning. Once he was older he got a good-paying job that had long hours and split an apartment with a college student. Didn’t mind paying for everything. He ends up lashing out at all of his friends and is diagnosed with severe anxiety, depression, and some anger issues, all similar to his father. Eventually, one day he decides to leave after he can no longer handle the stress of himself, this is where he meets Vessel after wandering for hours.

V 

Name - Kieran Wiggs

Age - 26

Height - 5’11

Personality -

A goofy unhinged boy. He is extremely loving in all the wrong ways. Kieran is passionate but loses motivation extremely quickly. He relies on the others to help him during his rough moments. If he were to become too angry he relapses into a rage episode and attempts to harm or kill the other vessels. Unhinged but loveable in moments. 

Connection to Sleep -

Sleep’s 5th vessel, sees him as just another one of the people he can use. Kieran doesn’t really mind him at all and sometimes is extremely thankful for him. He does wish he could get his memories back but Sleep refuses and says he will not have a defective vessel. 

Transformation -

Has the band’s moon-type symbol on his forehead, the darkening to ashy black stops just under his chin before it spikes into a deep black across his face. 

Mini backstory -

Had a very happy and popular childhood/teen years. Kieran was known for his musical abilities and later made a band called Dreamer’s Archive with a few friends. Their band became popular but died out after the disappearance of their lead singer Kieran. Turns out his girlfriend of 3 months had dragged him away and turned abusive. Forcing him to take more drugs and numb him. She slowly began to turn him into basically a slave for money. Letting people do whatever they wanted to him as long as they paid. Kieran couldn’t do anything to stop it due to the constant drugs in his system. He had a final straw moment and ran away while trying to OD.

VII

Name - Cole Lindsey 

Age - 25

Height - 6’5

Personality - 

Spitfire aggressive vessel. Cole often times tries to start fights with anyone he does not deem in his “circle” and or is not trustworthy. He always attempts to gain his old life back so he can feel the same freedom. Can be very flirty at times but if he is not growling/hiss or flirting, he is extremely quiet. Brooding almost but just does not have a lot to say.

Connection to Sleep -

Very unsure of him, 7 being a holy number his bond/connection is nearly as strong as Vessel’s. He is weary of him and chooses to act as though he does not exist sometimes. Cole oftentimes is forced into a trance due to acting against Sleep.

Transformation -

He is covered in scars, everything from his past life. Due to his scars being so many and some so wide, they are slowly turning into open eyes. They move independently to one another and blink/glare. The larger of his scars are opened into fanged mouths with long tongues. Dark black fingertips that slowly fade up to his elbow. His body is cold to the touch. His real/nature eyes are clouded over as though he is blind. 

Mini backstory -

He didn’t have the best home life so he picked to do anything to make money. In his part of the world he was able to join many underground and illegal organizations such as underground boxing, motorcycle and drift car racing. Had dated the girlfriend of the revival ground and ended up killing her after he forced herself onto his life during a race. They slid and she (Maddy) had hit a wall and broke her neck and split open her chest. Come tried to save her but ended up accidentally pushing her ribs into her heart. He was later killed by her boyfriend and his body was tossed into a river to decompose.

Angel(s)

Name - Velika (Ragnar)

Age - Unkown

Height - 5’1

Personality -

Soft and bubbly in moments, very playful. She is known to crawl things and be very independent. Hard-headed and refuses to take no for an answer. 

Stubborn independence bubble. She is known to want to do things her own way and will not stop till the task is complete. She does not care for help since she grew up believing in fighting for one's self. A dominant personality that often times climbs counters to get a laugh out of her friends/lovers.

Connection to Sleep - 

The ex-wife of Sleep, is technically still married but they are not together. That way anymore

First angel known to Sleep after getting kicked out of the god system…

Helper who always guides the first vessel (Elliot) to sleep

Transformation - 

Black wings, soft black around fingertips and toes, fangs, normal looking or the most part

Mini backstory - 

Grew up with her father teaching her warrior-like skills in private away from her mother. Mother was the village cook and was well-loved. Father ends up dying in war so Vel joins the fight at age 22. (Takes on her father's name) meets a wounded soldier and it turns out to be Sleep’s very first vessel. She helps him and they end up falling in love. They get married and have 2 kids. Second birth brings her to the brink of death. Sleep turns her into an angel for him hoping to save her. Vel is extremely upset and slowly begins to resent sleep. Is forced into following him through timelines and watches her children die.