#“for that I will never forgive myself” and “it gnaws at me like a sickness” god what if I cried

[arthursfuckinghat]

When people like to call Mary a manipulator and blame her for using Arthur but Mary Linton literally wrote,

"I miss you, and I will always miss you, but I cannot live like that, and it seems you cannot live any other way. When I'm with you, the world makes sense; but when we are apart, I see clearly that your world is not a world from which one can escape. I'm so sorry, for everything, for everything long ago and for starting up that business again. There's a good man within you, Arthur, but he is wrestling with a giant. And the giant.. wins, time and again. You've broken my heart, again, and I fear I have broken yours.

For that, I will never forgive myself but you must let me go now. I enclose a ring you gave me many years ago, when we were both young, not because I don't like it, but because I care for it far too much and it reminds me too much of you. I hope, one day.. you will find some people in love who can use this, for it kept me thinking of you all these years, and I hope by returning it to you I can finally be free."

Not knowing that the next time she'd see Arthur again, would be at his grave.

[aloesarchives]

Tags/Warnings: Fem!Reader/Pronouns, Swearing, Gojo has a hard crush on you, Gojo vs Toji Part 3, The word ass being used, Toji straight up having beef and fighting a bunch of teenagers, Nicknames such as beloved and hon(ney), JJK OCs, Out of pocket moments and sayings, Me being an annoying narrator

[Semi-proofread, informal formatting, and edited as of 12/22/2023 10:18am CST]

Summary: One of the truths behind Toji's beef with Gojo

Word count: 2.8k words

(A/N: I spent 10pm-6am writing this because I just need to or I would never forgive myself if I didn't! I promise I will have some of the "Toji lives" AU posts ready by next week because your girl got her ADHD meds back in stock!! Thank you for being patient with me and my inconsistent updates!!) (12/22/2023 6:05am CST)

💙I love you all! 💙���😚💙

💙❤️Please Enjoy!!!💙❤️

The REAL reason Toji has major beef with Gojo is because Gojo had a crush on you during his high school days when you would sub for Yaga in the classroom and training sessions. He did try his best to keep it under wraps but Geto was like,

"Bro, she's the same age as Yaga-sensei. . . Stop reaching, Satoru. . . Do I need to remind you who (L/N)-sama is married to again?"

The Gojo responded with, "Suguru, I don't give a shit about that loser. He's a bum, anyway. The question you should be asking is why (L/N)-dono is fucking married and still in-love to a deadbeat like him. I would have been a better option. Face it Suguru, I'm right."

While Satoru has a point, as Suguru noted, it doesn't change the fact that Satoru was crushing on a MARRIED woman who had TWO kids.

Though it was true, Satoru would have technically been a good husband/father/lover. However, there are many reasons why it must be ruled out.

Satoru is over half your age. Picking him meant allegations and a prison cell. Gojo tried reasoning with you, "But (Y/N)-dono! Age is just a number, give me two years!" "And Prison is just a place, Satoru-kun. I don't want to be labeled as a child predator, let alone be framed for "seDuCinG" the Gojo heir. I want to have a clean record."

While his personality brought you happiness, his carefree nature would clash a lot with you. He can mature but his child-like spirit and carefree persona isn't something you would personally deal with.

He was more of your protégé/junior/student if anything. You saw him more as your son and acted like a parental figure. You wanted to watch him grow and mature. Not become his lover.

To spite the higher-ups and Jujutsu elders(excluding your clan). Given you were a powerful and skillful sorcerer, marrying Gojo would be "BeNeFiCiaL" to Jujutsu society. However, it meant that you were on a watchlist 24/7 and pressured to have an HeIR. It made you physically sick and ill thinking what those old useless dementia white-haired cowards are allow to do that just to better "society" but not its citizens.

You are MARRIED to a man who is trying to step up after his major fuck ups. It's not perfect but Toji is his best trying after you gave him his life and freedom. Since he technically can't leave your home or go to Jujutsu High without your supervision, he's basically househusband duty. And he was getting pretty damn good at it too. Plus Toji's hot, he got you feral and gnawing at your teeth with his signature smile and smirk. And the way his arms flex when he crosses them, or how they feel when you link arms together.

While it wasn't super obvious, okay it was obvious, you always shot down Satoru's playful confessions and light-hearted shenanigans. Basically rejecting him every time. Usually, Suguru would warn you in advance but you know it would happen with each interactions. While you firmly turned him down, you made him understand why it can't and WON'T happen. You still care for him, just never romantically, only platonically and motherly. You made it clear that his "love" for you was just a strong admiration and infatuation disguised as a crush.

Though he was heartbroken, at first. Satoru slowly understand what you mean and his crush slowly fades away as it's replaced with immense respect for you.

HOWEVER, it still linger and not widely known because Toji finally gets word of this through the grapevine. A.K.A, through his two children Megumi and Tsumiki. It happened one day when you brought the two to the school so you can keep a close eye on them since they didn't have school that day. Toji was out doing errands so the two kids are accompanying you. Megumi and Tsumiki were occupied with their books and toys while you taught and trained the students. Megumi and Tsumiki went to find you because they were hungry and you had their lunches. As they looked for you, they see you talking to Satoru. They meet him a couple of times but he's still a stranger to them compared to Shoko or Suguru. So when they see Gojo with you, all alone with no one around, they thought it was major sus.

As they snuck closer, they could hear bit and pieces of what Gojo is saying to you. Megumi lowkey thinks Gojo is super annoying and acts more of a child then he does. But what catches his ears first was something with along the lines of, "(L/N)-dono, please consider it-" "Satoru-kun, how many time will I need to say no to you? You know I can never feel for you that way. Plus it's bad for me to agree to it. You know that it's admiration and infatuation if anything. Not love."

See Megumi knows you only use love as in 'I love you" to him, his sister, and his dad. But to this dude? Nah, something fishy is going on and Megumi gotta tell his dad about it. Megumi comes running, yelling "Mommy!!!". You and Satoru turn to see your son running to you and colliding with your legs. You crouch down and pat your son's head and smile at your daughter following behind him. Megumi hands your hand tightly as you lead them away to have lunch with your kids. Satoru made a face at Megumi when he saw the kid glare at him.

Once you three made it home, you're in the bathroom changing into some home clothes. Meanwhile, Toji was cooking dinner while Megumi and Tsumiki were waiting for you at the dinner table. As Toji was asking them about their day with you, Megumi brought up Gojo's advances and confession towards you. When Megumi said this, the beef Toji was about to flip plopped right back onto the pan. He looks back at Megumi and asks if there's anything else that he can share. As Megumi shares what he has seen through his perspective, Toji asks Tsumiki to confirm is this is all true, to which she said yes, backing up Megumi's claims.

"Yeah, Papa. Satoru-kun is weird. Even though Mama keeps saying she's married to you, he still does it. Tsumiki saw it too."

"I see... Thank you, Megumi and Tsumiki for watching and taking care of Mama for me. I appreciate it a lot. Can you tell her that dinner is almost ready?"

The kids nodded and went to go get you. After dinner and putting the kids to bed, you were sipping your favorite drink as Toji is doing the dishes. You would have helped him but he said no. While you two were talking, he brings up Satoru and his school crush on you.

"Toji, beloved, you know that it's just a small crush. It's nothing more then puppy love for me. Nothing more and nothing less. And you know that you're the only man that I am willing to give my heart to."

"I know that, (Y/N). But what does this brat got on me to think he's a better match for you? Just because this kid is practically a god doesn't mean everyone will bow down to him. I'm definitely not one of them. And to know that said brat is flirting with you even though you're visibly married with kids, he needs to read the room. I will be going with you to school tomorrow. The kids go back to school the next day, and I already got this week's groceries and cleaned the house."

You would have protested if Toji didn't give you a searing kiss while caging you in his arms. Fuck he looked so hot. Curse him and his good looks *punching the air*.

"Fine, you can come. BUT, Toji you need to behavior yourself. You already knew the deal. You better not be doing any funny business."

"Yes, Ma'am. You're the boss, I promise you." Toji says as he gave you a kiss on the cheek before lightly patting your ass.

After dropping the kids off, Toji accompanies you to the school. Toji is just silent and sits in one of the chairs as you do your lessons. Toji is leaning on the chair with a smirk plastered on his face. Not a care in the world. After a few lessons, you were going to teach and train Gojo, Geto, and Shoko for the rest of the school day. As you went to their classroom, they greet you, especially Gojo. However, the mood changed when they saw Toji walk in behind you, wearing nothing but a black slim fit t-shirt and grey sweatpants. Toji gave a head nod to the teens while he just takes a seat in a chair to lean on it. The three were shock to see him.

Particularly because they did expect him to come with you to the school at all. Suguru had an idea but he hoped it wasn't going to be it. After teaching a lesson, you told the three to practice their curse techniques and let their curse energy loose. While doing so, you told them that you would have to speak to Yaga for a bit on something and would be back 15 minutes tops. You told Toji to behave, and he nodded and gave a thumbs up. As you leave the kids and your husband on the train grounds, that's when the storm started brewing. Toji walks up to Gojo and is 3 feet from him. He smirks while looking at him up and down, sizing him up. Shoko and Suguru are on the sidelines as Toji, a married adult male in his 30s, was beefing with a 16 year old high school student.

Suguru: "Satoru, I don't think this is a good idea-"

Satoru: "Hush now, Suguru. . . It's my time to shine. . . Watch the master at work."

Suguru proceeds to roll his eyes but becomes a little weary after his last encounter with Toji was. . . unideal. Given one of their teachers was shot in the throat by Toji saving Anamai, and himself getting injured. It wasn't something he wanted to constantly get reminded of. But ever since you liberated Toji from the higher ups and explained it to your students, Suguru has slowly been changing his views on Toji. It will take a while but it's getting there. Anyhow, Suguru told Shoko to book it once the two were going to throw down.

Satoru: "So, what brings you back here, Toji~? You just couldn't get me out of that little mind of yours~? You're mad I'm 1-0 with you?"

Toji: "Kid, I'm pretty sure that it's 1-1 since I won our first battle. Anyway, I heard through the grapevine that you gave (Y/N) a love confession. Don't you know it's bad to confess and hit on a married woman who has kids? Were you taught any manners? Then again, by the way you act, you probably have none."

Satoru: "You're just mad, Old Man. That I, Satoru Gojo, would treat (Y/N)-dono better and treat her worth. Face it, Old Man. I'm a better match for her than you'll ever be."

Toji: "Like she ever goes for someone half her age, Brat. Plus, you'll never look at you as a lover ever. You're more of a son to her and that's the closest you'll get."

Satoru: "Well, she doesn't need a bum like you around. Imagine fighting a bunch of teens and getting your ass beat by said teens. Skill issue if you ask me."

Toji: "Watch your tongue, Boy. Remember who made you struggle for the first time in your life and actually killed you. While, you know, fucking up your best friend, the second strongest sorcerer, with no curse energy? I got your ass with no gifts other than being a superhuman with weapons. You can never beat me, I'm just built different, Kid."

Satoru: "You wanna test that, Toji~? You got no curse weapons with you. I can pack you up like you're a school lunch."

Toji: "Kid, please. I don't need any weapons to beat you, let alone kill you. You see this? This is a rock, and I can use it to beat you. I also still have my hands too. And I am more then willing to give it to you, Gojo~kun."

Satoru: "You think I'm scared of someone like you? I've ascended, enlighten if you will. If you even know what that word is. Throughout Heaven and Earth, I alone am the honored one. Remember those words, Fushiguro-san? Remember them good because I will put you six feet underground."

Toji: "I see then, Kid. . . So you're playing God? I guess that makes me a God Slayer then. . . Prepare yourself, Kid. . ."

Satoru: "Alright, bet then, Bozo."

Thus, Gojo and Toji started to go at each other for round 3. Shoko was already gone and the two started fighting in the training grounds. Five minutes have already passed and they have made five decently sized craters. Just as both of them were about to throw a punch at each other, they suddenly felt a powerful presence which halted them. They turn to you walking towards them with a furious face unimaginable.

"GOJO SATORU AND TOJI (L/N) FUSHIGURO!!!! WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON!?!?! I LEAVE FOR LESS THAN HALF AN HOUR AND I GET CALLED BACK BECAUSE OF THIS!?!?"

"(Y/N)-dono!!"

"(Y/N)!"

You moved like a blur and appeared next to them vice gripping their forearms tightly. You dragged them to the nearest empty classroom you can find or any room. You were just so livid that you didn't hear Gojo whining about your grip and asking to let you go like a child. As you let them go once you dragged them far enough, you smacked both of them hard on the head. Shoko and Gojo were watching this as Yaga appeared right next to them shortly. It was interesting seeing two of the most broken people in the world kneeling with their heads down in-front of a woman who doesn't have god-like abilities.

"GOJO, WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT USING BOTH OF YOUR ABILITIES DURING TRAINING SESSIONS!?!? YOU KNOW THE CALAMITY AND DAMAGE YOU COULD'VE CAUSED!?"

"BUT (Y/N)-dono! He-"

"NO BUTS, GOJO!! AND YOU, TOJI, I LITERALLY JUST SAID NO FUNNY BUSINESS AND YOU'RE ABOUT TO CREATE THE NEXT SECOND COMING OF CHRIST. I DON'T NEED ANOTHER RAPTURE HERE. I'M STILL DEALING WITH THE AFTERMATH FROM THE TWO OF YOU AS IT IS!!!"

"Okay, Hon. I take full responsibility for my actions today."

"YOU BETTER, TOJI!!! YOU'RE A FULL GROWN MARRIED MAN WITH TWO KIDS!!!"

"But (Y/N)-dono, I was not going to kill him last time-"

"NO ONES DYING HERE!!! NEITHER OF YOU WILL NOT DIE AS LONG AS I AM AROUND. I WON'T LET THE BOTH OF YOU KILL EACH OTHER OVER SOME PETTINESS AND A BOY CRUSH."

You start to calm down but you are still firm with them.

"I know this started because of Satoru's crush on me. . . Satoru, I will not love you romantically and date you. Please understand that. I care for you like family and that is said for the rest of you. Yes you, Suguru, Shoko, and Yaga. And Toji, I'm not leaving you for a child. I would be in jail and not working here. . . Geez, I saw this from a mile away but never expected this to happen. Now, you two better behave yourselves or else. You two don't have to say sorry or anything like of the sort. Just don't go tearing at each other's throats when I both am and am not around. Please, for me. . ."

The two looked at each other before saying a soft yeah. After that, Yaga told you to go home early and he would take it from there. You had to patch up Toji a bit but it wasn't anything of concern. From then on, Toji and Gojo just banter and bicker with each other. It's funny to watch except for Megumi since he's seeing his dad beefing with his unofficial adoptive older brother 24/7.

Satoru eventually grows out of his crush for (Y/N) but Suguru and Shoko never let him down. Hell, it's a running gag in the school about Gojo's old crush on you. Gojo always gets super embarrassed about it, especially when you join in but it's all fun and games with you all.

The only person who genuinely hates it is Megumi because the thought of Gojo having romantic feelings for you and trying to woo you made Megumi visibly ill and sick to his core. He would lowkey help his dad beat up Gojo if Gojo's crush on you became serious again.

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

💙Author's Notes💙: 💙I am truly grateful to each and everyone of you in showing me that my writing is enjoyable to read!!! I appreciate you all from the bottom of my heart for making my comeback worthwhile! I hate to sound giga cringe but every single one of you that likes, reblogs, and comments on my writing post make me want to continue writing because I know that there are people out there that like what I make.💙 💙So once again, I am truly grateful and feel appreciative that everyone single one of you enjoy what I have been writing. I hope you all stay healthy, drink your water/favorite drink, treat yourself kindly, and take a break because you earned it!💙🥰 ❄️💙💙Happy Holidays to all of you, my GOATS!!!💙💙❄️

[spectrechosts]

April Fools - Chapters 19-21

The Assassin is thwarted, but assassins are not the only threat that strikes from within.

Full Series

DAY 19: SONGS AND BALLADS

The Knight hums a soothing tune.

They have been here before, in these nerve-wracking moments where none of her skill with the blade can protect her queen. When the healers have done what they can, forced medicines down her throat, and now all anyone can do is wait.

Wait, and try to keep her comfortable.

These used to be the only times she would permit herself to sit by Her Majesty's bedside, as she does now. The Queen is drenched with sweat, freezing and burning up at the same time. She only stirs to groan and squirm under her blankets, trying to escape the soreness in her bones.

The Knight takes a cloth from a basin of cool water and wrings it out, wipes away the sweat on the Queen's face before resting it on her brow. Her Majesty relaxes slightly, stills.

The Knight continues to hum. This is how she protects her, right now.

She can see the Fool, gnawing on her thumbnail and pacing restlessly. She's never been in the room for this before, never had to watch. The dreadful waiting is torture to her.

"How do you stand it?" The Fool asks, and the Knight stops humming.

"A lifetime of practice." She says, and the Fool grumbles.

"Fat lot of good that does me. I knew she was- but looking at her-"

"I know."

"She's been like this for days!"

"I know."

"She's dying. A flu, and she's dying."

"She hasn't died yet." Says the Knight. "She has faith in us to keep her alive, you must have faith in her to live."

The Fool sits at the other side of her bed, burying her face in her hands.

"Fuck me."

"On Her Majesty's bed?" Asks the Knight, and the Fool snorts.

"Goddammit. Goddammit. What's wrong with her, anyway? Just, every time she gets sick, that might be it?"

"As I understand it, yes." The Knight says solemnly, and at that the Fool gets up and resumes pacing. "You don't have to stay."

"I'll know. I mean, I knew before, but- this bad?"

"This bad." She says, nodding.

"I hate it. I preferred the assassin."

"I know. Not all foes can be tricked, nor all battles won with ballad-worthy heroics."

"It's fucked, it's completely fucked- she doesn't deserve this."

"No one does." Says the Knight. "Why don't you get us some tea, we'll be here a while yet."

The Fool hesitates.

"What if- What if while I'm gone, she-"

"She won't." Says the Knight, dipping the cloth back into the cool water. "Not yet."

~~~

DAY 20: CHAOS AND COTERIES

The Queen emerges from her chambers, a touch unsteady but otherwise recovered. The Fool applauds her, and she rolls her eyes and curtsies.

"Yes, yes, I'm very impressive." She giggles. "How long was I out?"

"Bit more than three days, Highness." Answers the Knight, and the Queen scoffs.

"Oh, that's nothing! I hope I didn't worry you too much."

"Didn't look like nothing." Says the Fool.

"No, really! Fair knight, you remember when we were twelve- I was completely out of it for almost a full week! It really seemed like I would die that time, and yet here I am!"

"Forgive me if I can't take it in stride just yet, Your Majesty." Grumbles the Fool. "I find myself rather upset at the thought I might lose you so soon."

"Oh, and I you, my poor fool." Says the Queen, as she takes her hand. "But this is how it is. Besides, anybody could die at any time! My odds are just a bit worse, is all, and I think I've been rather lucky so far!"

"Assassins and a vulnerability to disease are lucky?" Says the Fool, drawing her into a hug.

"They are if you don't die!" The Queen says, beaming. "Anything new with regards to my assassination?"

~

"Alright, so by all accounts, your oldest uncle is next in line for the throne." The Knight says, hunched over a collection of clues.

"That sounds right."

"But, your father only became king in the first place because your uncle didn't want it. It'd be unusual to come back and kill him for it."

"Unusual, but not impossible." Says the Fool. "After him is your eldest aunt, but she's a widow and the Assassin said they worked for the future king."

"Okay."

"But she could be using an alias."

"Rrrrright." Says the Queen, scratching her head.

"Then you have… this uncle, this one, this aunt… I don't know. The easiest place to start is just, the more likely they are to succeed you the more suspicious they are. Then we have to consider who was in a position to orchestrate this plot, who was in a position to have orchestrated the plot against your parents-"

"Can't we just speak with my assassin?" The Queen asks.

"We haven't gotten anything out of them yet."

"Can I try?" She asks. "I'm personable, maybe they'll talk to me."

The Fool and Knight look at eachother, and shrug.

~

"Hello?" Calls the Queen, into the darkness of her would-be assassin's cell.

"Hello, Highness." They reply. "I see you yet live."

"I need to know who hired you."

"No."

"Are there other assassins?"

"Who's to say?"

"Did you kill my parents?"

"I can't recall." They say flatly.

The Queen huffs at the stonewalling. Her assassin is perhaps more resilient to polite inquiry than she had hoped.

"Will you really tell me nothing? Do you think your employer is pleased with you, after that embarrassment?"

"We'll laugh about it, in time."

She folds her arms.

"Well, then I have no use for you." She says. "My Knight, execute them."

"Highness!?" The Knight sputters.

"I mean it!" The Queen insists, and so the Knight unsheathes her blade and unlocks the cell. The chained assassin watches her enter the room in silence. She raises the sword over her shoulder and-

"WAit stop stop please stop I was bluffing stop!" Babbles the Queen, and she halts. "Dammit."

The Knight leaves the cell and locks it again, and the Assassin almost imperceptibly releases a breath.

"Wait." They say, as the Queen and her retinue make to leave. "I don't know the true identity of my employer, but the guild will have severed contact once the mission failed for their own safety, and they won't touch anything with your name on it for some time. If he wants you dead, he'll have to figure it out himself."

"Really?"

"Yes. That's all you'll get from me."

"Oh, thank you!" The Queen squeaks, clasping her hands together.

"Please." The Assassin says, tired. "Do not thank me. I'd prefer if no one ever speaks of this at all, if it's all the same to you."

"Okay." Says the Queen. "Should… Should we let them go, do you think?"

"No." Says the Knight.

"FUCK no!" Says the Fool.

"But-"

"It would look bad for me, being let go. Make it obvious I talked."

"Aw."

"Worry not for me, I'll escape."

"That's…gooood..?" Says the Queen, and her girlfriends grimace.

~~~

DAY 21: MEETING ON THE STAIRS

Silently, the Assassin dislocates their thumb and slips their wrist from its shackle. They pop it back into its socket and draw a lockpick from a hidden compartment in the sole of their boot.

In moments, they are free. They melt into the shadows and slip past the guards, effortlessly moving through the castle.

Fucking masquerade jobs. Everyone thinks it's so clever, oh you can just walk right up to them and kill them in front of everyone, slip into the crowd quick enough and no one is any the wiser. If they had their way they would have just slit the Queen's throat in her bed and been done with it.

They spy a window. The sun is just barely setting, they must have misjudged the passage of time slightly.

That's okay. They can wait. It's not like they're excited to report their failure.

They slink through the halls, looking for a place to wait for cover of night.

Climbing a staircase, they spot the Queen and her retinue.

The Queen is held against the wall of the landing, both of her hands buried in the hair of the other two women. She's kissing the Knight passionately, and the Fool is on her neck.

They're rather distracted. It'd be simple to kill her right now.

But the contract is almost certainly void.

The Queen breaks the kiss to switch between her lovers, her lips crashing into the Fool's in the span of a single breath. The Knight wastes no time nipping at her ear, whispering something low and presumably filthy.

The Assassin slowly backs down the stairwell. Not their problem anymore, as far as the guild is concerned.

Good for her, honestly.

[magpie-moon]

I am a dawn

My heart yearns for a bloom of fire, morning sun

to end this devastating numb

I have become a creature 

Bereft of comfort, habit consumed by harmony

It haunts, fair in golden-pale sunlight

I plead with a star blurred hope

That the crosses i bear will lessen with age

And the teeth gnawing on these hollow bones

The marrow sucked dry from

Luminous winter nights, over and under, trapping weaves in baskets keen

For warmth beneath this great dark eye, will finally glimpse

The sky and see

Purity, breathe through holes poked in the afterlife 

So bright, the fantomes fly home

A windless and cold tribunal

A funeral, staring at a body that might once have been mine

Dressed in the clothes they chose for me, my hair shines

Lips burn red, bright in candlelight

Igniting the waste

I am squandered on sympathy

Empathetic tyranny 

Understand my place, inhale with my lunges

And feel my heavy heart beat with every blood filled pump

I am deceased

Undercovers, find me 

I am lost, soul searching only left me

In a search of higher places 

In debt, my heart wants for wider spaces

To hold me down

The crying never stops, it only slows 

Keep me with you always, i might drown in brevity 

Aching for serenity 

Lover, love me dearly 

For if you ever stop i fear i might stop being

A person in this plane, existing for existence sake

I pray

For something

Someone to keep me safe 

But the fall of rain matches the patter of her breath

Footsteps heaving, hear her on the steps

Nightmares at the door, i slept so well these last few nights

But nothing, save nothingness, ever lasts. I’m breaking

Swelling at the seems, clashing, i’ve never been seen

Only perceived with preconceived notions 

Hold me back, i may run, dressed in nothing but a rash decision 

Caressed by darkness, give me strength to sever and create

Hold me still, for thrashing under weight only brings injury

My eternity, cut short, please exhale life unto me 

And give me another start, a chance at flight

Hold on to fragile butterfly wings 

They break so simply, try to see me. Truly see me 

Please 

Revive me in my hardship, running only makes them faster, grasping further with sticky 

hands

Devour my fear, my hunger, my sickness

Eat my innocence and retch it up, its hurts doesn’t it?

This frail naivete kept hidden, degrading under constant pressure

Understating its devine measure

Humiliation lasts a lifetime, praise but a second 

And I can only lie in bed and count my ceiling fan’s rotation as if they were sheep and i 

a shepard

An exodus of sleep rending me from tranquility. Its lovely, however, no answer to my 

many questions

And the hunger never ends, my sin an overwhelming din above a cliff’s searing edge

I was born and shall die with my eyes unmasked, not to be blinded by the pretty lies 

they said, its so telling

How he won’t have anything to do with me

A devil child of her own heart, raised and bred by her blood

And later trapped in his maw, surrounded by wolves so cruel and so drawn

I grew and became 

A sword too dull to use, i cannae cut anything but myself 

And even then it only bruises 

My words pierce like spears, thrown so hard i tumble in after them

Threatened and deceived by their violence, i am rejected by my own mind, i’ve been 

gutted

And i cannot harden this heart of mine

It breaks with every word

Starshine, no remedy, heals no wounds, only fills me with clarity

Cures of this kind only work for a time

Desperation looms, a flick of a knife

I will forgive her, bloody knuckles save me, give me momentum

Love me with strife, oh mother, my heart

Laden with tremulous oaths broken like original wedding china

Hold me gently, i bleed constantly

My fingers plucked clean of flesh and bone

Every morning, i awake 

To a light so blue it blinds

My skin frigid, nauseated, my stomach empty, crawling

I bend beneath iridescent luminance, forehead against cold porcelain

Stones driven deep with uneven breath, i tremble 

Take me home

Oh mother dear

Leave me be, save me from my malady and let me plod this path in peace

Sling your past from my back

My strength is failing. I cannot sustain your vice on top of mine, mother please, i beg 

of thee

Sing me to sleep, so i may know rest before death takes me

And what a shame that you ever spoke my name, made me a known entity

Exposed me to a poppy field of pain

Numbing all my hurt, even as you claw your way back into my brain

Your breath reeks of wine and decay, rot outshines its sweetness

Let me in, show me a sign

Of motherly devotion and i will grant amnesty for your crimes, yet you only play games

You set in motion

My decline, proclivities notwithstanding, i attempt to rise

Above your demise

I am a dawn, so clear, so eager to render anew 

Weep as woe-begotten tomes tell tall tales 

Of remembrance and honeyed betrayals, the bells ring out and time rectifies

Yet i am forever tied to this life of mine, and though we both may carry shame

You and i shall never be the same

[honorhearted]

“Benjamin, stop being dramatic."

His eyes snapped up to Mary's face, his fingers still rubbing together in a nervous tic. Despite his agitated state, he listened to her reassurances, each of which proved her reputation was bound to be secure. Embarrassed, Ben looked away again, breathing in through his nose before offering a tight little nod.

"All right," he agreed. "We can set off whenever you wish."

Though the moment Mary brought up Thomas, his demeanor crumpled again, much like a piece of parchment engulfed in a fist.

“You should have written him. He misses you, and he does not understand why you fell out of our lives so abruptly."

A painful lurch tugged in his chest, and before Ben could control the emotion in his face, his eyes started to blur with tears. "Mary..."

"Perhaps, you should have asked what our feelings were toward you instead of assuming what everyone else is thinking based on your own opinions. Thomas did have opinions on that subject, after all.”

Shoulders hunkering inward, he had the humility to bow his head, his hands opening and closing as he shifted his weight from side to side. "I never meant to hurt him," Ben mumbled. I never meant to hurt anyone -- but I do, no matter what I try. "And...my opinions assuredly are nothing but positive towards your son. I love him, Mary."

And yet you left. You chose to be a coward rather than help them rebuild.

Swallowing around the painful ache in his throat, Ben dragged a hand over his face and shook his head. "You desired your agency in camp, so I thought...I-I assumed you would wish to start fresh." Finally, he managed to lift his eyes again, his expression weary and somber. "I was too sick to reach out...for a while, I even lost my faith. I didn't want to write to Thomas about any of that -- to drag him down into the darkest, deepest depths I'd managed to bury myself."

Humility flooded his face, and Ben curled his arms around himself in a makeshift embrace, almost as if trying to disappear beneath Mary's very appraisal. "Forgive me for making excuses," he whispered. "Clearly, God wanted me to find you both again, so..." He trailed off and swallowed back the words, unsure if they were welcome. Chin wobbling, he softly concluded, "I hope Thomas can forgive me. How...h-how old is he now?"

“Yes, we’re all right, Benjamin. This is a decent, respectable way to make a living, and we have a roof over our head. At this point, that is a reasonable arrangement to me.”

Gnawing on the inside of his cheek, a hint of relief stitched through his heart. "I'm so glad to hear it," he murmured. And he was -- he was. Mary and Thomas deserved the world, and he was delighted to hear they'd been able to at least achieve a small part of it. For the longest time during the war, Ben had desired to be there with them; to aid and share in such achievements, even if he always believed they must surely wish for Abraham instead. And how could they not?

“That room is actually a floor below. My rooms are up in what you might call the attic. Come on. You can slip down the stairs, and your room should be right there.”

Almost mechanically, Ben started shuffling after her. "Thank you," he murmured. For believing in me all those years ago; for not hating me. "Do you think...? W-would it be possible to see Thomas tomorrow? I would like to explain myself in person, if I may."

‘Still a bit on edge’ is a generous understatement. If Mary is any judge, the former Major is about to tumble right over the edge… but that is hardly a discussion for right now. Besides, if the Major would not even bother to check on her for all this time, she doubts she has any sway left with the man. For all the tension during the war, as soon as peace returned, he seemed quite content to leave her to her own devices. In a way, she had not minded. During the war, Mary learned she had a cat-like ability to land on her feet whenever she needed too. That tendency did not change with the war ending, and she quickly realized she could still land on her feet with a certain level of finesse. That was what had led to her rather successful existence here, even if it was not a glamourous one. Still, it had been very… unsettling to be dropped so quickly from the Major’s attention after all the commotion he caused during the war about wanting to make sure Thomas at least was provided for. He had been so adamant and protective about everything then, that to abruptly have him vanish had left a hole in their lives that was taking its time to fill. Her words took a moment to sink in, but the Major finally realized there was no point in climbing out the window and trying to enter the inn through the front door. A moment later though, he latched onto another complication that was much bigger in his eyes then hers. “I can’t go to my room from here. Your reputation… Mary, I won’t risk that. I know I can’t stay in here either, but…are you certain the hall will be clear? I don’t want to give Mr. Friesz the wrong impression about you.”

Sighing quietly, she set her hands on her hips. “Benjamin, stop being dramatic. Firstly, I have not been upstairs nearly long enough for anything untoward to happen, and you did not go upstairs with me. Secondly, of course the hall is going to be empty. Mr. Friesz will stay downstairs going over his books and his stock for at least another hour, and any other guests we do have staying here likely already headed upstairs. There is nowhere else to go in town, and with the tavern closed, there is also no point in staying downstairs unless they are sleeping there. I think you’re the last one who is still out and about… though not really, since you are in here with me.” Whether it was her own words, or Benjamin finally getting some kind of grip on himself, the man calmed slightly after a moment. “Is Thomas with you? I’d wanted to write to him, but I didn’t think…w-well, I imagined we all needed some separation after the war. Undoubtedly, I remind you both of all the pain and adversity we endured.” “Of course, Thomas is with me. He’s asleep in the other room.” Mary gestured toward the little bedroom. Then she frowned faintly. “You should have written him. He misses you, and he does not understand why you fell out of our lives so abruptly. Perhaps, you should have asked what our feelings were toward you instead of assuming what everyone else is thinking based on your own opinions. Thomas did have opinions on that subject, after all.” Given the Major’s current state, Mary knew it was not a fantastic time to be giving him something else to feel guilt for, but the barb slipped out before she could stop it. His abrupt departure had hurt Thomas. The others Thomas understood, and he still heard from them. Caleb came to visit, and wrote Thomas long rambling letters about his adventures guarding the coast. Anna also sent letters, though they carried information that interested Mary more than Thomas most of the time. Her son was not terribly fascinated in the goings and comings of Philadelphia, but did like it that Anna always remembered him in her notes. Even Major Hewlett had made one, rather stiff offer of assistance though Mary knew it came strictly out of his friendship with Richard rather than her connections to Abraham. But Benjamin had disappeared completely. He might as well have fallen off the face of the earth, and Thomas was left wondering why a man he idolized and loved to follow everywhere could just forget him so quickly. But as time passed without any letters or word from the man, Thomas stopped asking after him. In his own quiet way, the boy seemed to accept that the Major was not returning. By now, she figured her son thought Benjamin had died just like Abraham had, and stopped asking because he knew what death meant. “I think after the past seven years we’ve had, we all deserve a bit of a respite. But I’m glad to see you looking so well… Are you all right here?” Mary tried to soften her tone now that Thomas was no longer the topic of conversation. “Yes, we’re all right, Benjamin. This is a decent, respectable way to make a living, and we have a roof over our head. At this point, that is a reasonable arrangement to me.” It was hardly what she wanted, but she was still fairly young and quite attractive. She had plenty of time yet to make a second marriage, and re-establish herself in a household. The route the inn was on was steadily becoming more traveled, so she knew in time she might start meeting more men, or one of the men in town would strike up an acquaintance with her. There were several widowers with children of their own, and an older bachelor who was starting to realize that he had missed out on some of life’s softer comforts. Unwilling to open up that chain of conversation right now when she was in her nightdress and more interested in going to sleep, she instead inclined her head when Benjamin gave his room. “That room actually a floor below. My rooms are up in what you might call the attic. Come on,” She gestured for Benjamin to follow her as she headed for her door. “You can slip down the stairs, and your room should be right there.”

[girlwiththereapertattoo]

begin again - part three

Jax Teller x female!Reader

Summary: Y/N and Jax grow closer... I don't know what else to say without revealing spoilers haha

Word count: 4k words

Warnings: very bad language, mentions of blood, physical & verbal abuse, angsty & some fluff

Author's note: I appreciate all the positive feedback I've received this far! It's much appreciated :) also, I'm bad at writing these summaries

If you’re in an abusive relationship or you suspect that someone you know is being abused, speak up and reach out to the correct people!

Beta read by @crucifixedbitch

PART ONE | PART TWO

💀💀💀💀💀

He’s late. The thought brings about a familiar uneasiness and your mind conjures images of a bloodied Jax lying unconscious in some dingy ditch. Jesus Christ.

“Mommy, why did you stop reading?”

S/N’s soft voice draws you back to reality. You look over to his bed where he’s laying beside Abel. “Did I stop reading?”

He giggles, “Yep.”

Oh. You look down at the book in your hand then back up at the boys. “I’m sorry, ace. I guess Mommy’s a bit tired.” And apparently, she’s distracted. You look back down at the book, willing yourself to remember your place.

“Cooper the Cat was stuck in the tree,” he reminds you.

“Right, Cooper the Cat!” your eyes hastily skim through the short paragraphs until you land at the right sentence. “Got it. ‘Help!’ cried Cooper from the tree…”

And just like that, all thoughts of Jax and his safety are shoved to the back of your mind to deal with at a later time. It’s your lucky day today, the boys have had a long day and they’re out before you reach the end of the book.

“I love you, ace,” you whisper to your son after you’ve kissed him goodnight.

It’s because of your love for S/N that you left Jax and the endless bullshit that comes with him. Anxiety-filled nights like this one are a thing of your past and you know you can’t allow yourself to be consumed by thoughts of him. Once you start, there’s no stopping you. You know this, very well, so why is there a sick feeling twisting in your gut? Because a small part of you is still in love with your ex.

Hope blooms when your phone vibrates in your pocket but it’s only B/N. It’s not that you’re not happy to see your boyfriend’s name on your phone screen, but the anxiety’s gnawing at your mind, and you’re desperate for it to be put to sleep. Fortunately for you, B/N’s in high spirits. He’s been frustrated with you lately, and wants you back in Charlotte — his insecurities about Jax are beginning to show.

It’s for that reason that you don’t tell him about S/N’s friendship with Abel.

“This time next week, you and S/N will be back home,” he muses.

“Yeah, we both can’t wait.” You feel disappointed at the realization, “It feels like forever, doesn’t it?”

And S/N has been asking about B/N more and more these days but you don’t tell that to him, afraid that he’ll catch the earliest flight to California. Truthfully, you’re not exactly ready to let Jax out of your life which you’ll be forced to do if B/N’s in Charming. You see, he’s… protective and doesn’t like the idea of you hanging around men. Especially Jax. Hell, he almost stopped you from attending your own mother’s funeral.

Of course, it was under the guise of being the protective boyfriend. “Are you sure it’s safe for you to be in the same town as your violent biker ex?” He said all the right things and did everything in his power to talk you out of the decision but in the end, he failed to convince you to stay away.

“Goodnight, I love you.”

You hang up just in time to hear Jax’s motorcycle pull up out front. The relief is quickly overshadowed by concern when you open the door and are greeted by a bloody-faced Jax.

“I’m late.”

“I’m more concerned about that gash on your brow. Come in.” You open the door wider, “If you’re here to get Abel, he’s asleep. You can fetch him in the morning.”

“Shit.” You step aside to allow him access into the house, “I’m sorry, Y/N, I got caught up in Oakland.”

“It’s fine. S/N was happy to have Abel stay the night.”

He smiles, “Thank you.”

You return his smile, “We should clean that before it gets infected.” Before you can process your actions, you’re leaning closer to take a better look at the cut. “I can’t see much, you should rinse it with water. I’ll go grab the first aid kit.”

“It’s late, I’ll have Chibs take care of the cut.”

“Meet me in the kitchen,” you start for the bathroom, “rinse the cut.”

You grab the first aid kit from the bathroom and find Jax sitting at the breakfast table, pensively staring into space, a half-drunk bottle of water sitting in front of him.

“Here.”

Your voice pulls him from his reverie. His eyes drop to the pill container in your hand and he arches a brow.

“It’s for the pain.”

“Thanks.” He accepts the pills and pops the cap open, “I should’ve called.”

“It’s fine.” You do your best to keep a casualness in your voice when you ask, “What was happening in Oakland? Is everyone okay?”

He gazes at you for a long while before he responds, gauging where your head is at. “Yeah, we’re all fine.”

“Should I be worried?”

He slowly shakes his head, “No.”

You watch him take the pain medication, there are so many questions to ask, questions only Jax has answers to.

“Is it safe for you to be here?”

He swallows the pills and smiles, “I wouldn’t have come if it wasn’t safe. Don’t worry, you and S/N are safe.”

Hesitantly, you nod as you pull a chair from the table. In a bid to lighten the mood, you tell him, “No offense, Jackie, but you look like shit.”

“I feel like shit,” he chuckles.

You take your seat in front of him and suppress the urge to smile, “Who punched your handsome mug?”

“I was pistol-whipped.”

“Ouch.” Scooting forward in your chair, you lean towards Jax to get a better look at the rinsed cut, and for a very brief moment, your eyes lock with his before they dart up to his cut. “It’s like the good ol’ days, isn’t it?”

“You playin’ nurse?”

“Yeah.”

Back in the day, nights like these were common. Jax would sit at this very table, at the very chair he’s sat on, whilst you tended to his cuts and bruises. Mother would be sitting in the living room, hurling insults at both you and Jax. She would take any chance to remind you that you were making a mistake you would regret for the rest of your life.

“Your mom hated me.”

Your eyes lock with his, “In her defense, you would always be finding ways to antagonize her.”

And in return, your mother would call Jax all kinds of names but even that wouldn’t keep him away. Nothing ever could keep him from you. Memories of Jax sneaking into your room late at night come to mind. “I had to come kiss my girl goodnight,” he’d tell you.

“We were pretty wild back then,” you reminisce.

And you were madly in love with each other, however, you keep that part to yourself. The situation’s complicated enough without the added layer. You’ve barely mustered the courage to mention B/N’s existence to Jax because, in all honesty, you’re not quite sure how he might react to another man raising his son. The thought of his reaction fills you with dread. Heaven knows he’ll give you a hard time about leaving next week.

Gah, it’s all too much! With a shake of your head, you dismiss all thoughts and grab the ointment from the kit. “Shall we?”

He nods and shuts his eye for you to apply it on the cut. A silence descends upon the kitchen and neither of you makes an effort to fill it.

“You’re good to go,” you announce once you’re done.

“Thanks.”

“I couldn’t risk it getting infected.”

More than anything, you don’t want S/N to see Mommy’s friend sporting cuts on his face. He’ll ask questions, probably mention it to B/N, and you’re not looking to have that drama in your life.

“Are you hungry? I’m assuming you haven’t had your dinner…”

“Nah, but I should get going.”

Your mood deflates at his announcement. The truth is you don’t want him to leave but how do you stop him without giving him the wrong idea? Why are you even stopping him from leaving?

“Stay,” you blurt out.

“Stay?”

“Yeah, there’s the guest bedroom. It’s late and you’re medicated and you shouldn’t be driving and–”

“I have nothing to wear.”

“Sure you do.” You take a breath to compose yourself, “I was cleaning out the closets the other day and I found some of your old stuff. They’re clean, I uh, washed them. Everything is oversized, they should still fit you.”

You had intended to take them to Goodwill and you will but right now, Jax needs them.

“Look, I would never forgive myself if something happened to you.”

It isn’t a lie but it isn’t the full truth. Honestly? You just want him near you. It’s wrong, and you understand the implications and know that B/N won’t be happy should he find out, but one night wouldn’t be harmful to anyone, right? Besides, he’ll be sleeping in the guest bedroom.

He thoughtfully considers your proposition. After a stretched silence, he reluctantly accepts your offer.

“Great,” you perk up, “I’ll warm up your dinner.”

You make some conversation over dinner, none of the heavy shit, mostly catching up on all you’ve missed in the four years you’ve been away. He tells you about the club, and that Opie met someone and they’re now married.

“And how about you? Is there anyone special in your life?”

He doesn’t answer your question, not that you expect him to. You just can’t help but be curious. After dinner, he heads over to the bathroom to take his shower whilst you load the dishwasher and dig through the laundry to look for Jax’s old t-shirts and sweats. The guilt sets in and you fight the urge to call B/N to tell him about Jax.

You’re dialing his number when you stop yourself. “Geez, Y/N!” you toss your phone into the laundry basket and step back to create distance between you and the device. Think about this. The last thing you need is B/N bulldozing into Charming and starting shit with Jax and the M.C. — that could be fatal. No, Jax staying the night is you helping out an old friend, there’s nothing more to it.

Grabbing the folded pile of clothing, you make your way down the hall to the guest bedroom and find Jax waiting patiently on the bed for you. Nothing but a towel tied around his waist.

“I should’ve knocked, I’m sorry.”

He rises off the bed and that’s when you get a clear view of his torso, and the tattoo inscribed on his ribcage.

“You’ve proved your point, Jax, now let’s go.” “No, why?” You look over your shoulder to the big, tattooed man standing over by the counter, laughing at whatever joke he’s just been told. You’re at some grimy tattoo parlor, somewhere in Reno, and Jax’s about to get your name tattooed on his body. His ribcage to be exact. The sentiment is sweet, you admit, but it’s a permanent decision, and you’re only 17. You look back at Jax who’s now laying shirtless on the tattoo chair, “Do you realize how insane this is?” He smiles brightly as he shakes his head. “Do you have a death wish? Gemma’ll kill us both when she sees this.” Part of her rage will be due to the fact that it’s your name on his ribcage instead of hers. “And what if they find out we’ve lied about our age?” “Babe, will you relax? They won’t, this place is a dump.” Which is exactly why he shouldn’t get his first-ever tattoo done here. “There’s no talking you out of this, huh?” “No.” He laces his fingers with yours and raises your hand to press a kiss to its back, “This is what I want to do. I don’t care what my mom thinks.” “And the pain? You don’t care about that either?” He shakes his head, “No.” You glance at the stencil transfer on his ribcage and sigh. “I know you don’t have to do this–” “I want to do this.” “And there’s clearly no talking you out of this.” “Yeah.” You squeeze his hand and flash him a reassuring smile, “Do you want me to hold your hand?” His smile returns, brighter than ever, “I’d appreciate it, darlin’.” “You’re insane, you know that, right?” He nods. “Only because I love you.” You lean over to lock your lips in a kiss — you don’t doubt it for a second.

You pry your eyes from his torso, forcing yourself to face the now smirking Jax. Right, his clothes!

You hold out the pile to him, “Did you put your clothes in the hamper?”

He accepts them and murmurs ‘thanks’ before he responds to your question. “Yeah, just like you said.”

“Okay,” you fight off the urge to look down at his ribcage. He kept it. “I’ll see you in the morning. Goodnight Jax.”

Spinning on your heels, you scurry out the room before you do something you’ll regret later.

💀💀💀💀💀

“Mommy! Come see!”

S/N and Abel’s laughter sounds from the living room. Saturday mornings have always been your favorite. Sleeping in is always a winner in your books, a vital part of any Saturday routine, and once you’re up, B/N takes S/N out of the house whilst you prepare breakfast. Last weekend was S/N’s first Saturday away from B/N and he was miserable. This Saturday is different.

“Mommy?” More laughter sounds, “You will miss it!”

Lowering the heat, you abandon your cooking and make your way over to the living room. A slouched Jax is taking up most of the three-seater with S/N and Abel on either side of him, all three pairs of eyes fixed on the television screen.

“What’s got you laughing so much, ace?” You take a seat on the armrest and press a kiss to the top of your son’s head. “Beaky Buzzard?”

“Yeah.” He looks up at you, “Are you coming to sit with us?”

“No, Mommy’s got to make breakfast.”

You’d like nothing more than to stick around and watch cartoons with them but there’s breakfast to prepare. When you walk back into the kitchen, you discover your phone vibrating on the counter and you just know it’s B/N. It’s his fifth attempt in the last half-hour, probably looking to speak to S/N, but that just isn’t a good idea. Not when Jax is in the house. You’re being deceitful to both parties, but the timing just isn’t right.

B/N would lose it if he found out about Jax’s regular visits, and you don’t know how Jax would react to B/N’s existence in your life and the role he plays in your son’s life. It would ruin a perfectly good morning. The day got off to a good start with the news of the sale of your childhood home, and your son’s mood is the best it’s been all week. Why would you even think to ruin it by starting trouble with B/N?

It’s not worth it. You’ll just have to come up with a story to tell him later.

“Breakfast is served!”

The boys come barreling in and take their places at the breakfast table. You assist the two youngest boys to plate up their food before you plate up for yourself. Everyone digs into the food, and the compliments you receive are a definite boost for the ego. You listen intently as S/N and Abel excitedly recount the Looney Tune episode they’d watched earlier and S/N’s beside himself with laughter.

The happy moment is disrupted by the unwelcomed vibration of your phone on the counter.

“Is that Daddy calling?”

Shit! You wince at the name ‘Daddy’. It’s what S/N always calls B/N but somehow, it doesn’t feel right when Jax’s sitting across the table from him.

“Mommy?”

“Yeah, ace?” you look over to him, very aware of Jax’s eyes burning into the back of your head.

“Is that Daddy calling?”

“No, it’s probably the estate agent.” It’s not a convincing lie, but you’re caught off guard and can’t come up with something better. “She’s calling about the house.”

“When is Daddy calling?”

“Probably later.” You hate that you’re being so dismissive. “We’ll call him after Abel and Jax leave, okay?”

He looks like he might ask another question, maybe press for a better answer, but he resumes eating his food. You avoid Jax’s eyes for the remainder of breakfast. He helps you clear the table and load the dishwasher in painful silence. Once Jax has helped you load the dishes, he leaves you alone in the kitchen. Can the morning get any worse? Apparently, it can. You unlock your phone to find multiple texts from an irate B/N.

He didn’t take kindly to you ignoring all ten of his calls. Shit. You’re on the verge of tears when Jax saunters into the kitchen.

“Abel and I are leaving.”

You nod, unsure of how to respond. “You’ll ride on your bike with Abel?”

“No. Ratboy’s waiting out front with the van.”

“Ratboy?”

“The new prospect.”

“And will we see Abel tomorrow?”

His impassive expression says it all. Your gut twists with anxiety at the thought of not seeing Jax again before you leave Charming. How do you make this right?

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He slowly shakes his head. Just then S/N and Abel sprint into the kitchen, bustling with energy. Abel hugs you goodbye before the boys run back out of the kitchen and out of the house onto the front yard.

“I’m leaving my bike here. I’ll come by to get it later.”

“Cool. Yeah, that’s fine.”

You walk Jax out, and just like he’d said, Ratboy is waiting out front in a black van. Together with S/N, you watch Jax and Abel climb into the van and drive off.

“Can we call Daddy now?”

“Yeah, let’s go,” you lift him up and carry him towards the house. “Did you have a good time with Abel?”

He nods his little human head, a bright grin plastered on his perfect face. Once inside the house, you dial B/N’s number but he doesn’t pick up, in fact, it seems his phone’s off. Strange.

“I think his phone’s off, ace.”

His face falls. In an effort to brighten his mood, you suggest driving over to the playground.

“When is Abel coming back to play?”

You inwardly sigh. It looks like today’ll be one long ass day.

💀💀💀💀💀

The last person you expect to find standing on the other side of your front door is B/N and yet here he is, and he looks anything but pleased with you. Oh, shit. Your heart sinks at the sight of him, the chill of fear coursing through your body, and your mouth dries.

“B/N?”

His unsettling smile causes the hairs on the back of your neck to raise. “Hi, Toots. Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

Your movement’s robot-like as you step away from the door to make way for him. He walks past you, and once inside, his eyes search around the small space.

“Are you home alone?”

You seem to have forgotten how to speak.

“Toots?”

“S/N… He’s, uh… He’s asleep.”

He murmurs a soft ‘good’ before he turns around to pull you into an embrace. For a moment, you stand frozen, your brain seized up and you feel like a foreigner in your own body.

“What’s the matter, Toots? You don’t look too happy to see me. Were you expecting someone else?”

Yes. “No.” Moving one arm at a time, you return B/N’s embrace and do your best to calm your nerves. You’ve done nothing wrong, he’s not going to hurt you, you repeat over and over until he releases you from his hold. “I just wasn’t expecting you to come all this way.”

“It’s only a five-hour flight.”

Why the fuck are you here?

As if he read your mind, he tells you. “I missed you guys so much, I thought I’d surprise you,” with a tight smile, he adds, “You’re not very good at answering my calls.”

“I’m sorry.”

B/N hauls his luggage from the porch and dumps it onto the floor before he makes his way over to the living room. You follow slowly behind him, watching as he settles onto the couch and searches for the television remote.

“C-can I get you anything?”

“Join me,” it’s an order.

You drag your feet over to the couch and take your place next to him. Casually, he slings an arm over your shoulder and forcefully pulls you into his side.

“There. Now you’re close.”

You can’t bring yourself to fake a smile. Too petrified. He presses a kiss to the side of your head and whispers into your ear to relax.

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

He’s told you that lie far too many times in the past.

“Are you enjoying being back in Charming?”

You nod, the words caught in your throat.

“What are you? Mute? Use your fucking words, Toots.”

“It’s good to be back.” Your voice is shaky, barely recognizable. “I missed it here”

His fingers start stroking up and down your upper arm. “Good.”

Your eyes fix on the blank television screen in front of you.

“Is he here? Is he hiding in one of the rooms?”

“Who?”

“Your white trash biker ex!”

You jump up, surprised by him raising his voice so suddenly. “Jax? No! Why would he be here?”

“You lying piece of shit,” he spits out, shoving you away from him, the force sending you to the ground. “I saw his bike parked out front. I’ll ask you again, is he here?”

“No, B/N,” tears fill your eyes, you know exactly what’s to follow but still, you plead, “Don’t do this here. Not now, please, baby.”

“Shut up!” He raises to his feet, towering over you, and kicks at your trembling frame. “No one’s touched you, why the fuck are you crying?”

“I’m sorry.” You swipe the tears from your cheeks. “I’m so sorry, baby. I don’t… I don’t know whose bike that is.”

“Are you cheating on me, you whore?”

Frantically, you shake your head.

“I said use your fucking words.”

You bring a trembling hand to your mouth to muffle your sobs.

“I asked you a question, you dumb bitch!”

“No. No. No.” You crawl over to him, closing the distance between you. “I’d never, baby. Never ever.”

“That doesn’t explain why a bike’s parked outside your house.”

“B/N, please,” you plead softly. “S/N’s asleep, we can do this another–”

The words are lost when he harshly grabs your face and shoves you onto your back. Both hands cover your mouth to muffle your pained cries. He’s vicious, and tonight, he’s out for blood.

“Get up, you–”

Knock, knock, knock! You’ve never been more relieved in your life. B/N shoots you a warning glare, daring you to make a move. A few moments later, the knocks sound again, a little louder this time around.

“Y/N?”

It’s Jax. You are faced with two decisions: do you call for Jax to help you or do you take your deserved punishment?

“Y/N?” he knocks louder. “Are you in there?”

You’re sobbing so much, your body’s trembling. B/N kneels beside you, placing two additional hands over the ones already covering your mouth. His additional weight pushes your head further into the hard ground, causing your head to hurt. It’s sure to leave a bruise. With a final knock, Jax gives up and some moments later, you hear his motorcycle ride off. Once he’s certain Jax’s left, B/N removes his hands.

“Why is he here at this hour?”

“I don’t know.” You gasp when he wraps his hand around your neck and applies pressure, making it difficult for you to breathe. “B/N, please…”

“You’ll regret cheating on me,” he murmurs softly before his hand connects with your cheek in a hard slap.

💀💀💀💀💀

PART FOUR

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[nanaminokanojo]

Play the Game | Nanami Kento X You | Part 7/8

CHARACTERS: Nanami Kento X You (fem!reader | PLEASE READ THE NOTES BELOW*) | Gojo Satoru | Geto Suguru | Shoko Ieiri | Utahime Iori | other JJK Characters CHAPTER COUNT: 7/8 WORD COUNT: 6,400+ GENRE: romance | fluff | slight angst | smut MINORS DNI | ooc depictions | female reader with described appearance* | modern au | rich people au | aged up characters CHAPTER TRIGGER WARNING: profanity | age gap | cigarette smoking | strong/mature/suggestive language | smut (fingering, unprotected sex, slight daddy kink XD, etc.) SPOILERS: n/a STATUS: COMPLETED

collection masterlist

one - two - three - four - five - six - seven - eight

"Play the Game" Masterlist

"You always hide here when you're down," Geto said, stepping onto the rickety floors of the abandoned wooden gazebo at the far edge of the walled gardens. It was meant to be torn down but for your insistence for it to stay erect.

He took out a cigarette and lit it, taking a long drag when you didn't answer, huddled on one of the corners of the hexagonal structure. "You really shouldn't have done that," he told you, his voice ringing crisp in the still air.

"You should really quit that dirty habit," you muttered in a form of retaliation, not really in the mood to be lectured.

"I could say the same with your games, Y/N!" he said harshly, the first time he ever would. It was more for the fact that he felt frustrated that you kissed him all for the benefit of another man as opposed to merely scolding you for whatever wrongdoing you've committed. He felt all the more frustrated that he was doing it at all.

"I'm sorry if I dragged you into this," you told him sincerely. "I shouldn't have –"

"I am not sorry," he interrupted you. "I wanted that for a while now."

"What?" You stood up and walked towards him, making him turn to face you. "What are you talking about?"

Geto placed a hand behind his neck, exhaling exaggeratedly and throwing his head back, closing his eyes momentarily before meeting your blue gaze. "I understand why Kento is taking this harder than what you're expecting." He sighed. "It probably would have been better if you kissed Yuuji instead."

You just blinked at him, perplexed. "I don't get it."

It's now or never. He wanted you to know at least before you made up your mind, but knowing you, he knew you already did. And he wasn't going to be your choice. "Look, I like you. I wanted you for myself ever since you entered university."

"Huh?"

"And three years ago, I told Kento about how I felt," he droned on. "And maybe he thinks that's still the case, that I am still his rival where you are concerned."

"So are you?" you demanded.

He shook his head, smiling as he blew smoke at the opposite direction. "I know a losing game when I see one, and honestly, I'm rooting for the two of you."

You clutched at his arm. "Suguru..."

He ruffled your hair, throwing his cigarette away and hugging you to his side. "Don't get me wrong, princess. I was hurt that I wasn't your favorite anymore. I wanted to tell you, but you beat me to it and told me you liked Kento instead."

"You'll always be my favorite," you said. "You guys don't get replaced, not to me. I love you all differently, and I have things I share with each of you that I can never have with the other."

Geto's eyes widened slightly at your words. "I'll hold you to that." He snickered then. "Seriously though, where the hell did the two of you get things so wrong? Everything just went to shit in a matter of hours. And I thought Ieiri and I were being very specific with our instructions to you."

"Ieiri?"

"She's been talking to Kento, too. You two are just too dense and slow."

You punched him on the arm, glaring at him.

"Ow!" he grumbled, rubbing at the sore spot. "I'm a model, you know. You're not supposed to mark me."

"Oh, is that what you tell all your girls?" you teased.

He rolled his eyes at you. "Kento already made it back to the house. You should apologize."

You stood on your toes and kissed him on the cheek, hugging him tight.

"You might want to refrain from doing just that, princess," he said but you just giggled and made your way back to the manor. "You're still my favorite!" you called out.

He took another stick if cigarette, chuckling at you, but as he was about to light it, he opted not to.

**

You've done it this time. You just knew it. You realized that when you sobered up from all the crying you did after the incident at the lake. It was too late to say you should have listened to Yuuji and regret wasn't really something you could relate to. Typically. Now, you wanted him to say, "I told you so." Him and Megumi. Throw in Nobara, too, but you knew you weren't going to forgive yourself if things didn't turn back the way they used to be where you and Nanami were involved. That was all you were hoping for if he really has been put off by the mere idea of you.

Geto was just as much of a trickster as you are, but what you did not foresee was the result and his reaction to you, and you weren’t exactly ready for the his confession. That was a first and after speaking with him, you understood. Nanami was downright outraged. He might have not gone all out on you about the matter but you knew there was something else he wasn't saying. He has always been considerate of your feelings, and you were afraid you've trampled on his. It was regardless of whether you meant it or not. You just crossed the line.

The situation wasn't good, and you knew Gojo would have killed you if he saw just how you were behaving at the lake, and you could just pray to every higher being out there that he never gets to find out or you’ll have no choice but to sit down and listen to his lecture. He may be averse to the idea of you dating any of his friends, and he may be the best brother anyone could have, but he would definitely not tolerate what you have done.

A bigger part of everything that’s been happening was your fault. You knew it, and you weren't afraid to admit it either. Although Nanami may have his faults for being so much of an over-thinker and being indecisive, he was right. Why couldn't you be a normal person for once and just be honest about how you feel? Why couldn't you just tell Nanami you loved him and you have been in love with him for the longest time? Again, you couldn't relate to the idea because you haven’t ever been able to healthily express your opinion, but enough was enough. You were going to do it tonight. It didn't matter what the result was. You wanted him in your life, and you’ll go through lengths to have him.

After tossing and turning on your bed for what seemed like hours and later wearing a path on your bedroom floor while fidgeting on the hem of your silk robe, you finally decided there was no way you were sleeping. You couldn’t if it saves you when the dread of him totally disappearing because of what you do gnawed at you from the inside.

You were worried sick of Nanami who disappeared after the incident. You called him on the phone several times but every attempt went straight to voicemail, and out of your frustrations, you found yourself retreating to that same spot where Geto found you. You were only able to rest easy when he spoke to you, telling you that Nanami already made it back to the manor.

Functioning on instinct, you got out of your room barefoot, the flaps of your robe flying behind you as you marched towards the guest room where he was staying. You even had your fist raised to knock on the door but at that very moment, you stopped. For the first time, you felt vulnerable. You didn't have a clue about what you would say to him the moment you see him. You didn't know how you would approach him or if it was already the right time to do so. It was an unfamiliar feeling.

Digging your nails into your palms, you listened for movement on the other side of the door when you heard the door to the adjoining bath open and close, followed by the quiet padding of bare feet on the carpeted floor. Your breath snagged, thinking of turning away. You decided to do just that but then, the door suddenly opened, making you squeak in surprise, the sight of him dressed in just his navy pajama bottoms causing you to ogle his muscular chest and abdomen.

Well shit, you thought. He was beyond hot.

"Er..."

"What is it, Y/N?" he asked, sounding mostly tired than mad. He didn't look happy to see you, but at least he didn't slam the door to your face. Too much of a violation to his manners, you surmised, tempted to tease him, but you opted not to. You weren't in any position to be playing your little games.

You exhaled in batches before you finally found your voice. "I... n-need to talk to you. Can I...come in?"

He just looked at you for a moment before taking a step back and opening the door wider for you. He then turned his bare back to you as he walked over to the bed, the muscles on his sides and back flexing with each movement. He then motioned for you to sit on the chair situated quite far from him before he himself sat down, waiting for you to talk.

You didn't sit down and instead stood behind the chair, gripping its back. "Look, I'm sorry."

He ran his fingers through his damp, blond locks, looking like a model for an expensive underwear brand as he did so. "Hmm. Are you now?"

Your throat grew dry, wishing you could smack yourself right there and then for thinking of other things when you were supposed to be apologizing sincerely to him. You knew that he was trying to be sardonic but you couldn't help but think how mesmerizing he sounded. Composing yourself, you nodded. "I am. Suguru and I –"

"I don't wish to hear it, Y/N."

"It didn't mean anything!" you finally snapped, breathing heavily and not realizing you've crossed halfway towards him. You stopped, catching yourself just in time. "I just..." You sighed. "I just wanted to make you jealous."

“Well, what the hell, Y/N! You’ve succeeded.” His jaw clenched as he said the words, eyes intent on you and unrelenting. “And guess what, you’ve done more than just make me feel jealous. You made me feel guilty, too, because I can’t help but think that I pushed you to do that because of what I said to you this morning. Are you happy?”

“No…” You shook your head, your breath snagging. “I was being selfish. None of it is your fault so you don’t have to feel that way. You’ve been trying to talk to me all day, and maybe I should have given you the chance, but being me, I relied on my baser instincts and made a game out of things again.”

He stood this time, towering over you. "That's all you know. Games," he told you quietly, his tone at odds to his words. "You never really cared who gets played in the end as long as you're amused." He reached over and picked up a few strands of your hair before flicking them off his fingers in disdain. "Isn't that what it is?"

His words hurt. "No..."

"Unfortunately, I got caught up in it, all the while thinking that maybe you'll spare me because..." He shrugged. "Doesn't matter. I lost again. Congratulations."

"I'm sorry."

"Sure." He scoffed, shaking his head. "I'm tired, Y/N," he said as he sat down on the bed, burying his face into his hands.

This was it, you thought to yourself. You can't miss your chance. It was regardless of the consequences. You told yourself that. You were not going to back down even if it means you get hurt. Even if it means he would reject you.

Without thinking twice, you moved closer to him, settling on your knees directly in front of him just by his feet. You reached for his hands, gently easing them away from his face. You smiled at how big they were compared to yours, his palms rough against your fingertips. He let you pull them away, slowly moving of their own accord to cup your face, his dark, intense eyes searching yours.

"Y/N, I can't do this anymore."

You chuckled even as tears glistened in your eyes. You brushed his hair away from his forehead. "You read minds now?"

"I'm serious."

"Forgive me. I couldn't help it."

"What are you –"

Before he can finish what he wanted to say, you pushed yourself up on your foot and pressed your lips against his. You felt him stiffen against you, his hand tightening over the slope of your hips as you pushed him forward. You placed your left foot on the bed just beside his thigh while your hands took possession of his face, smiling into the kiss when he finally moved and reciprocated in kind. Your toes curled in anticipation.

He pulled you down, mouths enmeshed, breaths in sync, until you were leveled to him. He raised a hand, placing it on the side of your face, making you lean against its warmth. Your eyes flew open when he pulled away and pressed his lips against your forehead, lingering there before he kissed the tip of your nose, then your cheek just beside your mouth. Nanami closed his eyes as he leaned his forehead against yours, his hand soothingly rubbing at your bare thigh.

He was breathing deeply, brows furrowed together. Unable to help it, you started planting butterfly kisses where you could reach, capturing his lips again, hand gently caressing his jawline. Nanami twisted around, laying you on the mattress and hovering over you, continuing to kiss you. His scent had stuck to the sheets engulfing your senses and rendering everything nonexistent but him. You were lost in a world filled with nothing but him and the feel of his hands roaming all over your body in slow, sensuous movements as if he was blindly mapping out your every contour and curve.

"I don't think we should be doing this," he breathed out, chuckling quietly, but in the next moment, he sought entrance to your mouth, his hot tongue finding yours, stealing your breath. You held on tight to him, thinking he was overthinking things again, easing his mind by returning his ministrations in kind, and locking him in place with your arms wrapped around his nape. You moved your leg from underneath him, brushing your thigh between his legs, making his breath hitch when you applied the slightest of pressure, feeling him becoming stiff as you rocked your thigh back and forth against him.

Nanami drew back slightly, cutting the kiss. He opened his eyes, looking at you longingly, fingers tracing your shoulder. He looked at you with uncertainty as he fiddled with the lapels of your robe. "Tell me to stop."

At that, you smirked at him, your fingers also wandering up the expanse of his hard abdomen, slowly trailing fire up his chest to his collarbones. You bit your lip between your teeth as his skin seemed to grow warmer where you were touching him, the way he was unsteadily breathing adding to your thrill, beyond glad you had that effect on him.

"I don't want you to stop, Kento." You rose a fraction on your elbow and pecked him on the tip of his nose. "I want you."

He sighed then. “Y/N, if we’re going to do this, I want you to be certain.”

“Like a hundred percent certain?” you teased. “What’s the legal jargon for that? Do you want me to say, ‘Sustained,’ or ‘No objections, your honor’?” You giggled and he joined in, shaking his head. “Way to kill the mood though.”

“Sorry.” He flashed you a rueful smile.

Reaching out, you cupped the side of his face, eyeing him with as much conviction and certainty as you could. “You should know by now that I don’t do things I don’t exactly want to do. And when I say I want this – I want you – then that’s precisely what I want.”

He nodded slowly.

“You’re still overthinking.”

“I’m just thinking of what to say to Satoru –”

“You chose the wrong time to be talking too much.” You pulled him close, crashing your lips to his in reckless abandon. It was sloppy at best, but you hoped it would convey your certitude and confidence in what you were about to engage in with him. “You’re all I’ve ever wanted, Kento, I could cry just having you this close to me.”

Your words seemed to have unlocked something in him as his pupils dilated and his clear eyes clouded with want, and you couldn’t have been more glad that you decided to tell him how you honestly felt. Nanami lowered his head, claiming your lips with his in a slow, gentle kiss, his lips making love to yours in a seductive rhythm that spoke volumes of what he can’t typically express with mere words. The urgency in his kisses increased and you matched his fervor with yours, slightly rising off the bed to meet him halfway, taking as much as you could as he took from you – your breath, your heart, your soul.

As if a switch flipped, his gentle movements turned careless as he grabbed your shoulder and slid the robe off you, throwing it somewhere behind him, eyes alight with excitement as he further undressed you, pulling your matching nightie down, smirking when he discovered you weren’t wearing a bra underneath.

“You planned this,” he rasped.

You grinned smugly at him. “Maybe I did.”

“You’re beautiful,” he said, attacking your neck with open-mouthed kisses while his large hands took possession of your breasts, kneading them. You gasped when he caught one of your nipples, twisting it experimentally and watching your reaction when he latched his mouth onto the other, licking around it before giving it a particularly hard suck.

“Oh god,” you whimpered, eyes blowing wide when you heard the sound of your silks being ripped off of your body followed by a soft growl as he continued to devour your tender swells of flesh. His hands reached down, covetously taking your thighs, humming against your breast at the warmth and softness of your skin underneath the rough pads of his palms. He drew one hand upwards to the flimsy lingerie you were wearing, ripping it away wildly as well, making you gasp.

“Hey, don’t –”

Any protests you had died in your throat when he reached down the apex of your legs, his fingers immediately teasing your folds and rubbing gently. “Do you feel how wet you are, my love?” he rasped. “You want me this much?” When you didn’t answer, he prompted you by putting more pressure on the sensitive nub, making you buck off of the sheets with a squeaked out, “Yes.”

Your nether lips were slick with arousal and your clit started to become engorged as he touched you there, making you whine in pleasure as you carelessly threw your arms back on the mattress. He spread your legs wider, giving himself full access to your body while you lay there with hooded eyes, watching him have his way around you, his pupils dilated as he drank in every contour of your body.

“So beautiful,” he murmured, groaning in approval when you slightly arched your neck backwards, reveling in his touch. He started rubbing your clit in circles with just enough pressure to have you gripping on the sheets while his free hand took hold of your exposed breasts, kneading the supple flesh between his fingers. Nanami delighted in the way you looked writhing under his mercy, eyes hazy and mouth partly opened as you let out pleasured sounds, wishing to know how he can make you moan and tremble even more.

Nanami withdrew his hand from your chest and traced down the expanse of your belly until he reached your pelvis, securing you in place as he inserted his long digits into your throbbing cunt, going in and out. He chuckled softly at the sight of you taking his fingers in, the lewd sounds coming from your pooling juices as you clenched around him, spurring him on. He pressed down on your clit around and around, over and over again, circling around that sensitive part of you.

“Just like that,” you mewled, your hips lifting off the mattress to grind against his hand, meeting the friction he was creating and amplifying your desire.

He smirked as he hovered over you. “You just love this, don’t you?”

“Y-yeah,” you breathed out, feeling your first orgasm hitting you when he started erratically thrusting his fingers into you, the movement of his wrists quick while every thrust was accompanied by your snagged breaths.

Feeling himself getting harder and more titillated with the way your body tossed and turned beneath him, with his free hand, he shoved down his silk pajama bottoms, tossing it away along with his underwear, releasing his cock from its confines. He was, however, taken aback when you suddenly pushed yourself up, smirking at him as your eyes shifted between his dark orbs and his erection, thick, long and pulsating.

Without a warning, you pushed against him, your hands tight on his broad shoulders until his back was against the mattress. Having successfully turned tables on him, you straddled his lap and claimed his lips for your own, kissing him hard and unrelenting while your hands ran down his pecs, down to his hard abs, one of them racing faster than the other as you reached for his length, wrapping your fingers around it, its heat sending you on a wild rush.

“You’re so hot,” you droned absently, making him smile.

“You’re hotter when you’re trying to dominate me like this,” he responded, chuckling.

“Don’t I always though?” you teased, your grip on him tightening slightly while you ran your thumb over his tip, spreading his precum all over the pinkish head, making him quaver in delight. Whatever response he had in mind died right there and then when you lifted yourself up aligning yourself with him. You grabbed the base of his length, guiding him leisurely inside you, the slow pace driving you both on the edge. Your legs shook slightly as you slid down onto him, using his firm thighs to anchor yourself until you were fully sitting on him, his cock buried deep inside you.

“You feel so good,” he whispered, out of breath, feeling himself nestled in your warmth, fitting tight and snug as if you were made just for him. He sat up slightly, holding onto your hips as he slid out slowly, almost to the hilt, holding you up before very gently easing his way back inside, continuing with that slow pace, building a rhythm you both got used to. You held onto his shoulders, meeting every languid thrust halfway, establishing connection with every movement of your bodies.

“Ah…Kento…” you keen, as you both moved against each other, feeling every part of each other against yourselves, melding in a soft embrace as you rode him up and down. You both couldn’t get enough of each other, your nails digging on his back while his hands held your waist in a bruising grip. Your hips met each other in a steady rhythm, the sounds of your moans filling the room, mingling with skin slapping on skin and distinct squelching as you repeatedly swallowed his cock into your hole, making you crumple in rapture.

He reached up, placing a hand at your nape, making you lean closer to press his mouth onto yours, your tongues meeting in a duel, your whimpers drowned out by the action. He released your lips in favor of your neck, progressing downwards as he nipped on your flesh, all the way to your collarbones until he reached your breast, latching his mouth onto one of your nipples, making your toes curl as his ministrations brought about sensations that hyper-stimulated every one of your senses.

You luxuriated in everything that was him, the feel of his mouth on you, his length filling you up to the brim over and over again, in and out with every push, his smell, his warmth, the excitement leaping in his eyes while he focused on pleasuring you. You were caught in the midst of your love and fondness for everything that made up Nanami Kento, voicing it out by repeatedly saying, “I love you,” or broken parts of it anyway as if a prayer of fragmented pleas and exultation as he made you his.

He paused when he heard you say it, pulling away, his eyes wide as he gazed at you with his cloudy eyes suddenly becoming clearer while his vision focused on you. “Say that again,” he said.

“I love you,” you murmured, feeling your face grow warm at his unabashed scrutiny. Then again, “I love you,” with more conviction this time. “I’m madly in love with you, Kento.”

“You are?” he asked as if in disbelief, his mouth stretching into smile, eyes filling with joy when you nodded. And along with that, he felt himself growing even harder as if a silent affirmation to how he felt about you. “I love you, too.” He kissed you and laid you down on the bed. “So damn much.”

Nanami settled himself between your legs, placing them over his shoulders as he realigned himself with you, pushing in without preamble and pounding into you in a faster rhythm than earlier. He slid so easily inside of you as he pushed forward and pulled out again and again, the new position making your walls grip tighter around him while he fucked you deeper. He relished the way he was spreading you apart, mesmerized by the way you were connected.

“More,” you purred when you felt him hitting you right where you wanted him over and over again, making you see galaxies of stars as he rammed into you. “Right there.”

“Whatever you want, my love,” he panted, dipping himself even deeper. “You like that? You like how daddy fucks you?”

Your eyes shot open when he said that, knowing you were seeing a new facet of him you’ve never encountered before. But you were not able to dwell on that when you were prompted to respond with a rough, hard thrust, saying, “Yes, daddy. I do…so m-much,” when he pulled out all the way and shoved his dick back in, and in that same instant, you found yourself creaming around him. Your essence dripped down onto the sheets as he continued to thrust faster into you, his breath hitting your skin with the rhythm of his movements as he moaned your name, planting butterfly kisses on your neck.

“You’re so good,” he said as you clenched tighter around him. “Give me one more, baby.”

He hastened his pace even more, rising up with one of your legs hanging on his arm while his free hand reached down, playing with your clit, applying pressure and setting the tempo of his movements with his length which slid in and out of you unabatingly. Your moans were getting louder while your brain felt like it would turn to fizz as your heart pounded in your chest, holding onto the build of that familiar pooling of heat in your loins. In a sudden flurry of sensations, your body lifted clear off the bed as you came long and hard.

Nanami rode you through it, going even harder and rougher as groans started to spill out of his mouth, ending in a crescendo of your sensual cries and a dragged out moan from him as he came inside you, his white, hot seed coating your walls and overflowing out of you.

Closing your eyes, you tried to catch your breath, feeling a shiver run down your spine as you came down from your high. Everything felt detached and surreal as your mind started filling with thought after thought, dominated with nothing but the fact that he just made love to you, the idea not quite sinking in despite the panting, boneless mess that you are at that moment.

You gasped when you felt him pulling out of you before hovering over you to place a kiss on your forehead. You forced your eyes open to look at him, cracking into a crooked grin when you finally looked at him, his hands brushing away stray strands of hair from your sweat-matted forehead.

“I love you, Y/N,” he told you in hushed tones, while you were unable to do anything but nod weakly as your body succumbed to exhaustion.

**

He bet everything on Gojo’s wedding week. And it was all worth it.

The whole matter has not sunk in just yet, so much so that he didn’t get a wink’s sleep trying to make sense of it all, but mostly afraid that he will wake up in the morning and find that everything was just a dream. A very vivid, beyond pleasant dream. But the sun rose in the horizon, and as he lay there awake, he had his proof of everything that happened beside him, asleep and very much real, pressed against his side.

When you came to him the previous night, he was certain things between you would end. If he was being honest, he has had it with your playing. He didn’t know exactly what your aims were the previous night until you made the move. Again, if he was being honest, he was also being a coward, always the one at the end of the rope you were reaching for. He wanted to switch your positions for a change, but when he did, it felt like he was getting nowhere, just pulling the rope without anyone at the end.

He thought he had lost when you kissed Geto in front of him, didn’t know what to do with the information when you said you were doing it to make him jealous. And no matter how low you went just to get his attention or to retaliate to his lack of response to you the previous day, he couldn’t say he didn’t like that you did it, too. He didn’t like it per se, but your motivations behind it spoke volumes of how you felt. He was just too blind to see it.

You were right about certain things, one of them being the fact that he was supposed to know you and understand how you communicated. Another was the fact that it wasn’t too much for you to ask him to be selfish for his sake and yours. He had wanted to act exactly that way for a long time, and when you were giving him the chance, he walked away from it instead. And as per usual, you were the one who fought your way against him for the same aim of having him.

He sighed, shifting to his side to face your slumbering form. He felt his heart melting at the sight of you softly breathing and appearing so serene snuggled against him and wearing his shirt. He could almost laugh when you suddenly fell asleep on him right after he made love to you. He sighed, knowing you wouldn’t wake up any time soon after you closed your eyes, decided to clean you up and dress you up before settling beside you, too.

But out of everything, since the previous night, whenever he would remember you telling him you loved him, his heart just stops for a second only to resume its beating in irregular staccatos. You told him you could almost cry having him that close to you, but he was the one who felt like shedding tears about having you.

He bet his heart knowing there was a possibility that you would just toy with it and break it. In the end, he finally got everything he wanted in your person. He should have already known that in order to get to you, he has to go through everything, have his heart shattered if that’s what it would take. He wanted to peel all your protective layers, but you ended up doing that to him instead, and it was safe to say you succeeded. Still, although he felt like dying when he saw you kissing Geto, he wouldn’t have it any other way. He’d go through it all again if it meant he would get you in the end.

Nanami caressed your cheek with the back of his fingers, smiling when you scrunched your nose a bit, your brows furrowing slightly. Just then, your eyes opened, your ocean-blue irises devouring him in an instant in waves of emotions, the most dominant of them all being gratitude towards whatever higher power brought you to the world to exist and love him when you could have anybody else.

You broke into a sleepy grin the moment you saw him. “Good morning, daddy,” were the first words that came out of your mouth, teasing him the moment you woke up.

He felt heat suffuse his cheeks when you said that, flashing you a pained look. It hadn’t been embarrassing when he suddenly decided he had a daddy kink and wanted to hear you say it, but now that he has sobered up from the feel of you against him, he didn’t exactly want you to say it, not when you were mercilessly ragging him for it first thing in the morning. He didn’t detest it though.

Nanami diverted his gaze from you, his face turning red, but you abruptly rose slightly, grabbing both sides of his face to make him look at you.

“What are you getting all shy around me for?” you cooed. “Don’t you like it when I call you that?” You smirked. “Come to think of it, I was startled when you said that, too.”

“Are you making fun of me?” he said, pouting.

Your eyes rounded and you let go of him, even going to the extent of moving away from him.

“What?” he asked, suddenly panicked as he sat up, grabbing your arm, afraid you’ll walk away.

You clucked your tongue. “D-don’t do that…that p-pouting thing…” you spoke haltingly, unable to talk properly as you pinched the bridge of your nose, looking flustered.

“Do what?” he asked, not quite catching what you were saying.

“Don’t go acting cute so early in the morning. I’m not used to this side of you. Jesus, Kento,” you told him all in one go, your hands flailing about. “You’re messing with me.”

He arched a brow at you and started laughing heartily. You were genuinely distressed and he didn’t know what he would do with you. “I’m sorry, darling. I didn’t know you were not immune to my charms.” He pulled you towards him, making you face him. “How are you feeling by the way?”

“I’m fine.”

“Not sore anywhere?”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Fishing for compliments now?”

He shook his head slowly, not understanding what you were talking about. “I don’t think we’re on the same page.” He started fussing around you then, even lifting his shirt which you were wearing, slightly looking for telltale signs of the possibility that he could have hurt you in any way when he spotted bruises on your hips. “Oh no.”

“Why?” you asked, blinking cluelessly when you saw what he was looking at. To your surprise, he suddenly took you in his arms, his expressions indicating distress. “What’s going on?”

“I hurt you,” he mumbled. “I’m sorry.”

It was your turn to laugh. “You obliterated me, Kento, but I’m not sorry about it.” You pulled away from him and pecked him on the lips. “You were awesome.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“I should go easy on you. I don’t really like the idea of injuring you in any way.”

You narrowed your eyes on him. “You’ve set the bar on how good you can be between the sheets. If you hold back on me, I’ll throttle you. Maybe I’ll ask Satoru for help, too.”

“What –”

“You’ve been warned, Nanamin.” You leaned forward, planting your face on his chest. “Stop worrying. I don’t regret anything, and if you make love to me as well as you did last night every single day, I’ll gladly have my battle scars.”

Nanami cupped your head, rubbing soothingly, his eyes meeting yours while a slight smile played at the corners of his mouth. “You’re so weird sometimes.”

“You love me.”

He kissed the top of your head. “I do. With all that I am.”

“Stop getting into a tizzy then.”

“Okay, Y/N.”

“Okay, Kento.”

“Are you always going to call me by my name now?” he asked, tilting his head to the side. “I like it better than when you call me Nanamin.”

Your brows knit together then. “I’ve kinda gotten fond of that nickname though. But if that’s what you want, I’m down for it, too.” You grinned at him. “Kento.”

Nanami broke into a smile, but then you said, “Can I always call you 'daddy' instead?” He rolled his eyes, feigning annoyance. “I’ll throttle you.”

You chuckled. “My mother would flip!”

“Satoru would flip.”

You laughed, wrapping your arms around him. The two of you stayed that way for a few moments, just enjoying the comfortable silence while you listened to his heartbeat and basked in his warmth, his muscular arms wrapped around you securely. You’ve never felt safer.

You were, however, the first to break it.

“Kento?” you began.

“Yes, my love?”

“What are we now?”

“You’re all mine and I’m yours,” he stated firmly.

“So we’re official?”

He scoffed. “If last night wasn’t enough to make us official, I’d be happy to prove it further to you. You’re the woman I’ll marry. I’m not giving you a choice on that.”

You snickered. “Fine.”

“Fine?” he repeated with inflection, pushing you down on the mattress while he hovered over you. “Why do you sound as if you don’t like it?”

You burst into bubbles of laughter. “I’m not complaining…”

“But?”

“If that’s the case, I want Satoru to know first before the others. Is that okay?”

He nodded. “That’s just fair, I think.”

“Thank you.”

“Anything for you. When do you want us to tell him?”

You held his hand, entwining your fingers together and beaming tenderly at the way yours were engulfed by his. “Soon. Very soon.”

-end of part 7-

Aaaaand we're down to the second to the last chapter. This one's rather self-indulgent and I got carried away with the the "daddy" thing lol. Anyway, I would like to say thank you to everyone who's been reading this fic and looking forward to my updates. You guys make me happy!

*I used “you” here, but since my character is Gojo’s little sister who is established to be his female clone for reasons essential to the plot, she possesses the same blue eyes and white hair. I did not exactly want to create an OC (although technically, I did by describing Y/N), but I opted for the best of both worlds in this fic, leaning more towards the literary aspect of it as opposed to it just being reader/you-oriented. I hope this isn’t iffy to anyone, and yeah, i’m not being exclusive or whatever.

Thank you so much for reading. Likes, comments and reblogs are deeply appreciated! Hope you enjoyed it.

© ORIGINAL WORK BY nanaminokanojo. CHARACTERS ARE INSPIRED BY GEGE AKUTAMI'S “JUJUTSU KAISEN.” [20210806]

PHOTO/IMAGE/GIF/FANART CREDITS TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.

[estellaelysian]

Unsent letter

I don't think Ethan was exactly thrilled to go to Amazon for the reset, so here is a letter he wrote to Alishka during the end of his stay, but never sent it.

(I am so sorry for this, but) this is a late entry for the choices February challenge Day 10: Letter

**********

Dear Alishka,

I know I have hurt you deeply. I know you may not forgive me, and the possibility that I have lost my chance with you gnaws at me. But I see no other choice, and this, somehow, seems inevitable. I know you would raise your eyebrow skeptically at my choice of words and wonder aloud if its true, and it is this quirk of yours that never ceases to amaze me. After all, there are somethings that can never be resisted. You are one of those - everyone likes you, not only because you are immensely kind, but because you are quick to laugh, witty, intelligent, good with people and that you can talk about almost anything with ease. I really admire you, I do, but sometimes things are not meant to be. Sometimes, love is not enough.

Maybe I am wrong. You would definitely say that, I know, with a twinkle in your eye, but I have my reasons that I would never be able to express in a conscious manner. Or rather that's what I tell myself frequently, mostly at evenings when I yearn to reach for the only photo I ever took of you at Miami. I left it at Boston, thinking it'd be easier that way. But it isn't. It is never easy without you.

No amount of words can express the intensity of emotions I feel right now - dread and fear, along with the haunting realisation that you may not want anything to do with me in the future. It scares me more than I'd like to admit, but somethings can't be helped, not when you don't want to try. I'd be lying if I said that though. I am alone and sick without you, and I'd be more than willing to try, but I can't, not when it involves your career. I do not wish to resent that for what we could have.

I keep telling myself I am right, even though I know I am not. I keep denying that I did something wrong by refusing Naveen when he tried talking me out of this. Going to the airport and boarding the flight without telling you anything - I'll tell myself that was correct. And it works during the day. But at night, it doesn't. No matter how busy, engaging and tiring my days are, I can't fall asleep easily at night. I am restless, because that's when I think about you the most. Because that's when I have no work to distract me enough from not wondering about you. It's always - What must she be doing? What must she be thinking and so on. I can never bring myself to entirely forget you, no matter how busy working I am, because it just doesn't feel right.

I see you often though, mostly at nights, in my dreams, whenever you come to visit me. You look like you did in Miami - the moment I saw you then, I knew I'd always remember you like that - clad in blue, your dark wavy hair tumbling past your shoulders, your eyes closed, your face a picture of serenity when we stood at the balcony together. That's how I always see you, as a vision I never quite see in anyone else, and I knew then that I'd never forget you thereafter. I ache to feel the soft pressure of your lips against mine.

I have been to the bush a few times, and those deep greens, which are present only at its heart, remind me of your eyes. The rest is more like me, barren and stripped of everything. The angry heat reminds me of your pained expression when I pushed you away, but the sun reminds me of how radiant you look in the hospital when with your patients. Children play and laugh around the camp, reminding me of your childish giggle when you are with your friends. Everything here reminds me of you. It's like no matter how much of a distance I put between us, you still follow me around. Most of all though, whenever I am in the bush, I know one thing, as crystal clear as the sky: I was wrong to deny what was obvious to everyone else - that I cannot forget you easily.

I still have the seashell you handed me when we were walking the beach at Miami. These days I reach for it more than usual, feeling myself drawn to those memories. It will be time to let go soon, but now I still like to live in them.

Oh Alishka, I am sorry, so very sorry to have hurt you this way. I know I will lack an explanation in your eyes always, no matter how I defend myself, and you will be correct in thinking whatever you think of me. After all, I am the one who made mistakes, and I regret what I have done deeply, but not enough to risk your career for us.

As I sit here in the camp, I am praying that you'll understand.

I am coming to Boston next week with the hope that you find a way to forgive me. Maybe I am too late now. I don't know.

Ethan

**********

Thank you all for reading.

[thalergetic]

Prompt: Knight!Adora and Princess!Catra maybe?

you. you get it.

The royal family, over the last few years, had experienced a bit of trouble finding knights dedicated enough to protect them.

Well, some of them. Those that protected the king and queen were devoted and loyal to a fault, and many had been there to serve the queen’s parents before they passed away.

Princess Catra was a different story.

In the past three years alone, she’d gone through no fewer than twelve knights appointed as her personal guard.

The first had left in a fuming rage after she’d used his family’s ancient, precious sword to cut a particularly tough piece of steak.

The second was captured by bandits after she’d left the castle on a whim one night, and had never been heard of again.

The next two were transferred across the kingdom, more than a few of the ones following had left the country altogether, and her most recent one had retired from knighthood at the ripe old age of 24 to become a farmer a few towns over after she’d melted his armor down to make jewelry.

Catra thought all of this was incredibly funny. She was no fool, and she certainly wasn’t in need of protection. Lessons in horseback riding, archery, and swordplay had seen to that.

And yet still her parents insisted on a bodyguard.

Now, at age 20, Catra had long since gotten sick of it. She’d been crafting a plan for months now to leave and make her way into the neighboring kingdom of Bright Moon, where she’d find work in the central city, and tonight was the night it would be set into motion.

Catra was in the middle of tying her bedsheets into a rope when a knock came at the door.

She froze, looked down at the linen twisted in her hands, and heard herself say, “Uh, I’m a little busy.”

An unfamiliar voice responded to her, somewhat muffled by the wood between them. “Princess? Is that you? I-I’ve been appointed your new personal guard.”

Catra let out a huff and opened the door a crack. “I’m busy. Come back later.”

A single blue eye darted up to look at her through the crack. “Of course, my lady. Can I get you anything to eat or drink?”

“Did you not hear me, sir knight? Or are you just an idiot?” Catra asked, tone biting. “Leave.”

Normally, being mean to her guards resulted in hurt pride and a stung expression on their face. This time, the door was pushed a little further open, and she saw a woman’s face trying to hide a smile. “I just wanted to introduce myself, your Highness. I’ll be gone in a moment.”

Catra found herself staring at the cocky smirk on her face and the way the black and red armor only accentuated the sturdy, strong frame of her body. “Um. I suppose that’s—that’s fine,” Catra said, opening the door a little wider.

The knight grinned and bowed her head. “Sir Adora,” She said, dropping to one knee in front of her. “I offer my service.”

“Great. Thanks,” Catra said, watching her try to hide a laugh. “You can get up now.”

Adora did, and Catra realized for the first time how tall she was. She blinked once, twice, and found herself blushing at the proximity they shared.

Adora opened her mouth as if to speak, then closed it. She gnawed at the inside of her mouth for a second. “Do you— forgive me, my lady, but... do you remember me?”

“Why would I remember you?”

“We knew each other,” Adora explained. “As children, I mean. When you used to come into the village with your parents, we’d play in the square.”

Catra frowned a little, until— “That was you?”

“That was me,” Adora nodded, smiling at her again. “I wasn’t sure you’d remember me.”

“I threw a rock at your face when you beat me at jacks,” Catra said bluntly. “I remember.”

Adora tapped a small scar running through her eyebrow. “We both do.” Something behind Catra caught her eye, and Adora frowned a little. “Are you going somewhere?”

“That’s none of your business,” Catra bit back, her walls shooting back up. She began to close the door again. “Take your leave, sir knight. That’s an order.”

“My lady, wait,” Adora said, holding up a hand. “Let me pack a bag. I’ll come with you. I’m good in a fight,” She said, pointing to the golden hilt of her sword at her back. “And I know these woods like the back of my hand.”

Catra blinked. “You’re not going to try and stop me?”

Adora raised an eyebrow. “How well did that go for the last twelve guards?”

“Touché,” Catra said. She considered her options. Admittedly, it might not be bad to have someone watching her back, and Adora looked more than capable in a fight. “Fine. You can come. But I swear, if you tell anyone about this, I’ll see your head on a spike.”

“And betray my princess?” Adora said, pressing a hand to her breastplate in mock alarm. “Never.”

Catra rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Don’t slow me down.”

Adora nodded. “I’ll do my best.” Catra turned to continue backing, but she stopped when Adora spoke again. “You know, your Highness, you’re not as bad as they said you’d be.”

“Oh, no,” Catra shook her head. “I’m much worse. You’ll see.”

Adora laughed, and Catra couldn’t help but smile at the sound. “I can’t wait.”

[bitterlikesweets]

There’s No Lying About Love

This is a sidlink fic but there’s also a bit of one-sided zelink

It’s around 2000 words

Link doesn’t know how to tell Zelda that there is someone else that he needs to go back to. 

He doesn’t know how to admit it, when she’s battered and bruised, looking at him with green eyes so full of affection that he can’t hope to match it. He averts his gaze uneasily, fidgeting with a large silver band attached to his belt--a bracelet that just so happens to belong to a certain prince that he would love to teleport back to as soon as possible. 

“Do you remember me?” Zelda asks, and Link bites his tongue because those green eyes narrow as she continues to gaze at him, and they’re gentle and close and unfamiliar. 

How is he supposed to tell her? How is he supposed to explain things to her when she’s looking at him like nothing’s changed? Everything has changed for Link. He’s known her as nothing more than a disembodied voice and few scattered memories that barely feel real for months now. He vaguely recalled a few moments here and there from his past life, but they don’t feel like his memories. He saw himself, but it felt like he was witnessing a different person. That stoic and proper knight did not feel like the current Link, the Link who ran around half naked in the woods, swinging tree branches at anything that so much as looked in his direction. The personal knight of Zelda feels so different from the young man who spends his free time climbing mountains and eating mushrooms he finds off the ground. 

Those one hundred years turned Link into a different man, but Zelda is the same as she ever was, and the guilt rocks him until he’s unsteady on his feet. When he stumbles away from her, she reaches out to help him, and she smiles as if she knows how he’s feeling, but she doesn’t. He clutches Sidon’s bracelet, hanging low by his waist, and it calms him until he sees Zelda’s eyes follow the movement of his hands. 

“Ah,” she says softly. Her gaze lowers, and he suddenly realizes that she is shaking, her eyes barely able to stay open, and his own selfishness pools heavily in his stomach. He feels sick. He’s been thinking nothing but himself, and Zelda is barely hanging on. How has he not thought to let her rest now that the battle is over? 

He supposes part of him has thought of her as similar to the goddess whose power she wields, after knowing her as nothing more than that voice, as a far off entity that had been doing the impossible for a century. It’s strange to see her and think of her as a person, a person who is likely exhausted and clearly staring at Link like a maiden in love, even in her tired state. 

“My sheikah slate,” she mumbles, her eyelids fluttering. “Perhaps we can…”

She falls forward, and Link is barely quick enough to catch her, and that’s when he realizes that she was never gazing at Sidon’s bracelet in the first place. He shifts to pull her up onto his back, and she feels impossibly light. He wonders when she’s last eaten as he absentmindedly sets his destination on the sheikah slate, and it’s only as the blue light swirls around him that he realizes that in his panic, he’s sent them straight to Zora’s domain. 

When her arms flop limply over her shoulders, and he moves her higher on  his back so that her bare feet don’t dip in the water surrounding the shrine in the Domain, Link realizes that he’s tired too. His muscles ache and his clothes are torn, and he wants nothing more than to feel Sidon’s cool fingers on his cheeks, the remedy that has healed his mind as many times as Mipha’s powers healed his body. Perhaps that was why he traveled there instead of his home in Hateno; a part of him was searching for the remedy he always used after a tough battle. 

But he can’t help but think it was awful timing for him to fall back on his habits. As much as he loves Sidon’s touch, Sidon’s smile, the Zora prince’s presence will do nothing to lessen the guilt currently gnawing at Link’s insides. 

As Link slowly makes his way up the steps, the princess on his back, he spies Sidon standing in front of Mipha’s statue in the courtyard, and Link can’t help but silently curse his awful luck. Sidon sees Link immediately, yellow eyes growing wide and then even wider upon noticing who Link carries on his back. Link is sure that Sidon was probably too young when they knew each other to truly recognize her, but Sidon was the one who saw Link off when he marched off to fight Calamity Ganon. Sidon knew enough about the situation to guess. 

Or maybe Sidon did recognize her. Maybe a sense of familiarity washed over the prince, from seeing this woman from his childhood again. Maybe Sidon remembered her more than Link did, even with what little memories Link had left still vivid in his mind. 

The thought makes the heavy feeling in Link’s stomach burn. 

When he sees Link sway, Sidon rushes over, hands outstretched to help Link, as always, but Link pulls back just before they can touch, not sure if he could handle both Sidon and Zelda at once, even with the princess unconscious. Sidon steps back, yellow eyes staring inquisitively down at Link, but Link averts his gaze, instead focusing his gaze on the floor. 

“Are you alright, love?” 

Link flinches at the name but nods, and with his gaze still stubbornly glued to floor, he misses Sidon’s frown. When the prince speaks again, his voice is softer, more hesitant. 

“Is the princess alright?”

Link nods again, shifting her slightly higher on his back.

"I can arrange a bed for her. I'm sure you're tired too."

Link nods again, and when a few of the Zora come to take her away, she clings to Link, small hands balled up in the blue fabric of his dirty Hylian tunic. Link frowns slightly, leaning his head back to look at her, nudging her head with his in the process. She’s still knocked out, but she nuzzles into his touch and Link stiffens, the now familiar feeling of guilt only worsening when he turns and sees Sidon frowning down at him, his hands clasped behind his back. 

It’s moments like these when he wishes words came easily to him, but as always, they don’t. So he hangs his head and pries Zelda’s hands off, refusing to watch as the Zora gently whisk her away into the night. 

The lack of her physical weight does nothing to lighten Link’s terrible mood and increasing fatigue. He thinks about going to her, waking her up, just to get the likely devastating conversation over with. He thinks of her, waking alone some time tomorrow, wondering why the knight she seems to love so much is not by her side. He thinks of having to tell her that he can’t be by her side, not like she wants him too. 

And the heavy liquid guilt in his stomach sways and rocks him because he thinks of how everyone she ever knew and loved is now gone—except for Link, but in a way, he’s gone too. 

Link wants to vomit. He physically sways, and Sidon’s large hands come to hold him up by the elbows and Link’s head spins because Hylia, he loves Sidon, and he loves the prince’s smile and the way those hands always treat him like a treasure, like something precious, but at the moment, even that gentle affection feels like it’s too much. Because he’s something precious to too many people, and he looks up to push Sidon back and his eyes lock on Mipha’s statue—

A garbled noise crawls out of his throat—a whimper combined with a shout of distress, a noise that a wounded animal might make. And Sidon smiles down at him. His red hands slide from Link’s elbows to his shoulders. He squeezes, and Link sags beneath the tension. 

“You worry too much, beloved,” Sidon says, and his voice is soft, only for Link to hear. 

Link’s eyebrows pull sharply downwards as he frowns because clearly he hasn’t worried enough--if he’d thought more about it, he would’ve been more prepared for this. He would have had a speech or a letter ready or something. He would’ve noticed the signs from those brief memories and not been so caught off guard by the look in Zelda’s eyes while they were both at the edge of their sanity, the last of Calamity Ganon’s energy still fading in the air behind them. 

“I worried similarly to you,” Sidon said, “at first. After all, my sister was as fond of you as I am.” 

Link shrinks beneath Sidon’s gaze, a frown pulling at his lips. Link thought about it back then too. When he met her spirit in the Divine Beasts, his cheek warmed and he spluttered like a fish out of water because Mipha gauged his feelings for Sidon with little more than a glance. It was easier with Mipha, because she knew without him saying. 

And because she could not hope for a future between the two of them, but Link often tries not to think of it that way. 

“I wondered,” Sidon continued, gently guiding Link to stand in front of Mipha’s statue, “if she would ever forgive me for such a thing. She loved you deeply, and I…”

Sidon’s hands tighten on Link’s shoulders. 

“I wasn’t sure what I owed to her, and if that outweighed what I wanted for myself. I’m sure it is harder on you, knowing that you are all the princess has.”

Link’s hands clench into fists at his sides. 

“Link,” Sidon says, and his voice is a whisper again, “I love you. And if, someday far in the future, you found someone you loved much more than me, someone who made you happy, I would understand. I would let you go.”

Sidon spins Link around so that they are facing each other, and Link has no idea when Sidon began to kneel, but they are suddenly eye to eye. Sidon slowly reaches for him, cradling Link’s face in his hands. 

“And if the princess truly loves you—and if I make you happy—then she, too, will understand.”

Link is still uneasy, but the painful, heavy guilt in his gut abates a bit. He relaxes just enough to lean into Sidon’s touch, to weakly smile back when Sidon flashes him a sharp-toothed grin. He places his hand’s over Sidon’s as the prince continues to cradle his face, humming slightly in appreciation, and Sidon’s grin grows even brighter. When the nervousness and panic begins to slowly fade, Link realizes just how tired he is. He feels the ache in all his muscles from the long fight, from staying up multiple nights throughout that grueling battle. He sags forward and Sidon catches him with a laugh. 

“I think that’s enough being Hero of Hyrule for a little while,” Sidon says. “Time to take a break. Be Link for a few days.”

Link wearily shakes his head with a grumble, even as he burrows into the prince’s arms. He thinks of all the things he should do—people he should inform of Calamity Ganon’s demise. He wants to sweep the areas most prone to monsters, and there’s no telling what he will have to do with Zelda to help her rebuild the kingdom. 

“The world can wait a few days,” Sidon says firmly. “It waited a hundred years with a great beast fighting for its destruction; it will survive for at least a few days more.” 

Link grumbles dissent again, even as Sidon slowly but surely pulls him to the bedroom to rest. 

“Alright then. Sir Hero, think of the lover you’ve been neglecting. Surely, spending time with me is part of your many duties?”

Link’s next grunt sounds like a reluctant form of agreement and Sidon grins brightly, sweeping Link off of his feet and cradling the little Hylian close to his chest. Link manages a playful punch to Sidon’s chest before his eyes lip shut, sleep turning his mind into a dizzy haze. 

Just before he drifts off, he hears Sidon speak up, but he’s too out of it to truly take in the words. 

“Princess Zelda! How long have you been awake?”

“Oh, well… Just long enough, I suppose.”

Link hears a sniffle. Then Sidon’s voice, full of sympathy.

“Your highness…”

“Just… Take care of him, will you?”

“...Of course. You have my word.”

The real world is lost to Link after that, but he dreams a wonderfully pleasant dream. He stands beside Sidon, their hands linked together. And they look up at the sky together. The goddess Hylia looks down upon them, but her face is strangely familiar. Bright green eyes regard the couple fondly, and when she smiles down at Link, he grins brightly up at her in return.

[embyrinitalics]

Calamiversary: Link’s POV II

Here’s some more scenes from Link’s POV—about 2.4k worth! (I rly hope this makes up a little bit for the fact that I haven’t updated in two months omg)

But you know how I said that reading through my old stuff makes me cringe? Yeah this is like, way worse. It’s all unedited, and I wrote these in December 2018, so it’s all old. It’s all embarrassing. 😬 But with that disclaimer, I’m going to put my personal feelings aside and let you guys read it if you want 😂

Also now that I’m looking at this I feel like they’re not in chronological order, like that scene with Revali stabbing him should have come after these ones with Mipha, but   o h   w e l l

Here u go!

  Drowning

At first, all that registers is the pain, white and hot across my throat, and the numb realization that I’m going to die.

Of course, it’s not that simple for me.

The half of me that I’m always suppressing senses my weakness, slamming frantically against my defenses in the span of a heartbeat. I have to choose between saving myself and containing it. So I pour everything I am into holding him in, dragging him down with me in a white-knuckled grip. But he fights back.

The pain is agony, a thousand heated needles covering my entire body and then being driven down to the bone in nauseating synchrony. He thrashes in my hold, tendrils of his hate whipping out in places, and my vision blotches white. I feel the deathstroke across my throat heal; the earth quaking beneath my feet; the malice seeping out of me like blood oozing out of a wound.

I can hear myself screaming beyond the war, part agony and part fury. Part man and part beast. It’s slowly tearing me in two, ripping ligaments and shredding flesh as it claws deliriously towards escape. I grapple with him, desperately trying to hold on even as he starts pulling my limbs apart. But I know it’s only a matter of time.

Then I see her. Her light cuts through the pain, through the fear and the hate, brilliant and pure as the sun. I can’t speak; I can only stare, imploring her with my eyes to end me quickly.

She takes my face in her hands and I suck a sudden breath. Her glowing touch is warm and soft, comforting, and not the violent end I had been expecting—the touch of a goddess, and for a moment I can breathe.

Then her light engulfs everything—the woods, my body, and soon my mind. The relief from the pain and the peace of it is so indescribably jarring that I don’t resist, falling headlong into it.

And then I’m drowning. Drowning in the sensation of her between my hands, of the softness of her lips under mine, of the closeness of her. Drowning in sensations that are brand new and millennia old at once. I’m drowning, burning from the inside out, and even though it aches I don’t want it to end.

I remember myself, haltingly, and muster the will to let her go. I drop my forehead against hers, grappling with how much I want her—and with how far I’ve let myself fall. There’s no amount of leniency on her part that could possibly excuse this. But I’m not concerned with the consequences for myself; only with how my lack of self-control must have affected her.

“Forgive me,” I breathe. “That was—”

But she silences me, her soft, delicate fingers brushing my mouth with a feather-light touch that sends another pang of want rippling through my middle. Her eyes pierce into me, unendingly blue and so powerful I can’t help but wonder if it’s her magic. Then she exhales, drifting closer, her eyes falling heavy-lidded to my mouth just before they close completely. And the feeling of her lips meeting mine, electric, breathless, so warm, sends me diving under the surge of sensation again.

I draw her close, losing myself in her. There’s nothing even close to this—her touch, her taste, the sound she makes when I angle her head to deepen the kiss.

And I don’t know why I’ve denied myself for so long. I’ve always wanted her. And now that I’ve tasted this, tasted her—even all the armies in Hyrule couldn’t keep me from her now.

I smile against her mouth. Slaughtering them would be easy.

Through the intoxicated cloud swirling in my brain, the thought snags unpleasantly, like a potent flicker of light in a comfortable darkness. It’s enough to slow me down, enough to make me think.

Enough to make me realize this can’t possibly be real.

I stop, pulling away slowly to search her eyes. So familiar. So beautiful it makes my heart ache.

But she’s been dead for 10,000 years.

I want to ignore it, dive headlong into the illusion of her. But I can’t unsee it. I murmur, breaking the spell, “This isn’t real.”

She blinks, and suddenly she’s different. Still familiar. Still beautiful. Still alive. And then the pieces are snapping into place, and the woman in my hands isn’t the one I loved so many millennia ago. It’s the Zelda of this era, the one who only knows me as I am—as the Calamity. And we’re reliving one of her memories—one of my memories—

And it’s agony. All at once the peace is gone, the gentle, tremulous bit of happiness the memory had lent me and I had been nursing in my heart like a single spark in an endless night, and the hatred is flooding in. The anger. Everything the illusion had been strong enough to veil.

And I remember what I am. I feel the evil pouring through my veins like a poison. I feel it making my heart pound stronger. I feel it coloring my vision and filling me with desires I must never obey.

And it’s agony.

I’m quaking on the inside, partly from fury and partly from shock. And then I erupt.

“What are you doing here?”

She looks as lost as I feel, green eyes glittering with shock and fright. “I—I don’t know—”

“Is this some kind of a joke to you? You think that just because you have her memories that they’re yours to do with as you please?”

“No! I didn’t mean to do this—”

Oh, I want to break her. I want to hold her down and force her to taste some of the pain I have. I want to hear her scream. But I push her away instead, unwilling to give the monster the edge.

“Well undo it!”

She stumbles into the mantel, turning back with that pretty face covered in tears. And the satisfaction and the guilt churning together in my stomach makes me feel sick.

“I don’t know how!” she tries to reason. “It was an accident!”

I turn away and try to breathe. That glimmer of humanity, after 10,000 years without—and then to have it just wrested away—

“This how you operate when you don’t get your way, then?” I bite out before I can rein it in. “Prick the Calamity, see if he bleeds?”

“I told you it was an accident,” she says again, more quietly.

She sounds so miserable. A very small part of me wants to comfort her. But I’m so furious I can hardly see straight. Forcing me to relive this moment—with her—

What was she thinking? What in the name of the gods made her think she had the right? Hadn’t I been through enough? Hadn’t I endured enough torture over the last eon? Did she really have to reach down into my most private, most intimate moments and drag them into the daylight, too? The last, precious fragments of who I was, that I hold onto so fiercely, lest I lose myself completely—

Why?

“Magic doesn’t just materialize out of nothing,” I growl, closing the distance again, propelled by a fresh wave of anger. “What did you want to know? If it would hurt me to relive this? If I could even tell the difference between you?”

She winces like my words had been a slap. “No!”

“Then what?” I grab ahold of her, desperate for this to be over. Desperate to just—just feel nothing. “Do you want me to admit that you remind me of her? That I’m in agony every time I look at you? Is that it?”

“I don’t want anything! Let me go!”

“Would it please you to know that I am?” I murmur, my voice dangerously quiet, and she goes still. “Every time.”

And now, I realize numbly, it will be worse.

Because now she doesn’t just remind me of what I had with my Zelda.

Now I’ve tasted her, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to again.

  Frightening

“I’m sorry about what happened with the Champions,” she says quietly, catching me off guard. “I imagine it was… frightening, losing control like that.”

Yes. Yes, it was. I don’t think I’ve ever been so afraid of anything in my life as I was in that moment, so close to rupturing, so close to tearing her apart with a thought, so close to losing myself completely and destroying everything I love in the aftermath. I want so badly to tell her, to unburden myself. I know she’s hoping I will. And that just… makes the temptation worse. She’s staring through me with unseeing eyes, full of the desire to understand, to heal even a little bit of the damage. I want to pull her closer, taste her again, thread my fingers in her hair and indulge in the warmth of her. I want to lose myself in her touch, in her lips, lose myself to her instead of to the monster working to claw its way out of me. I want to—

Gods!

“You were right,” I manage, finally. “They weren’t to know.”

“How have you been since?” she asks. So eager. So earnest. So gentle. It’s infuriating. “Any lingering effects? Urges to explode?”

“I always feel the urge to explode,” I scoff, grateful for the levity. “But no. The seal is as strong as it ever was.”

  The Zora Princess

We stop to rest and I quietly remove myself. So I can breathe. So they can breathe.

The air tastes clearer once I put some distance between us, like grass and wind and the malice in my mouth instead of the honeyed flavor of their adrenaline. The pressure in the back of my mind eases somewhat without the constant temptation, but the hollow gnaw of the hunger is just as strong as it ever was. I lower myself into the prairie grass, beating back a groan.

The Gerudo and that bird creature are arguing about something. It makes Zelda laugh.

That’s good.

Then the wind shifts and the air tastes of sugar and salt, and I turn towards it slowly. It’s the Zora girl. She’s so short the grass is up to her knees, and her trident has become more of a walking stick than a weapon. She’s so quiet it’s easy to forget she’s there—but she’s one of the Champions, and royalty, if the headdress is any indication. I’m sure she’s stronger than she looks. The fact that she’s confronting me on her own is evidence enough.

I tilt my head at her as she draws close, feeling after that gentle spike in her heart rate as I fix her in my stare. It makes my spine burn.

“Princess,” I greet her quietly. “To what do I owe this honor?”

She leans on her staff, remarkably calm, and I can feel the tendrils of power wafting off her.

“You’re in a great deal of pain,” she says.

My lips move towards a frown as I draw the inevitable conclusion. Just my luck. “You’re a healer.”

“Yes.”

And her magic is a peculiar brand. Very strong, almost magnetized in the way it drifts towards injury. It’s what brought her to me. I wouldn’t be surprised if she could bring someone back from the brink of death.

I contemplate her usefulness for a moment; but I need to go much further than the brink, and that’s well beyond even her abilities.

  Dreamcraft

I carry her up to the campsite, lay her near the fire and rouse it a bit so she isn’t freezing, and then grudgingly lift the sleepweb from the Zora girl. Her eyes open and then drift upwards, like she’s watching the spell float away.

Her eyes settle on me, finally, all golden and rippling, and she says, “You seem better.”

She’s a strange one. No demanding what I’d done, or where I’d gone, or what had happened. But she’s also sharp. Sharp enough that her bold-faced concern makes me feel manipulated. But she’s not wrong. I had been caught up in feeling terrified to notice, but the hunger had faded into background noise. Throbbing, like something swollen. I frown, trying to puzzle out how that had happened.

I finally admit, because it’s too easy to admit things when I’m with her, “We shared a dream.”

“And that helps?”

I can’t be sure if it’s the emotional implosion that follows one of her illusions merely drowning the hunger out, or an actual, measurable, residual effect of her dreamcraft. Either way, it’s worth studying. Which is horrifying.

“Maybe.”

We sit by the fire in silence for a while. That’s easy, too. Almost like we had been friends once, in another life. I’m watching the flames, and she’s watching Zelda, and then so am I.

“Could you enter her dreams now? While she sleeps?”

The idea of sauntering into her mind uninvited worms unpleasantly in whatever scrap of my conscience is left, vaguely reminiscent of guilt. But she’s plowed headlong into mine more than once, so it seems only fair. For some reason that reasoning doesn’t make the worming stop. I still haven’t answered, and her eyes glide to the side of my head. I call up the fire more, loosing a taut, tired sigh at her persistence.

“Possibly.”

It’s noncommittal and non-revealing, which I assume will grind her advance to a halt. But she slips around it like water in that infuriating way she does.

“You should try it sometime,” she says.

I tilt my head at her. “You don’t find the idea of trespassing on her mind morally objectionable?”

She shrugs. “Not as objectionable as you tearing a swathe of Hyrule up by the roots.”

And that’s logic I can hardly argue with. Her eyes say she knows. And suddenly I find the image of her pretty crimson skull smashed against the stone and its contents spattered everywhere very appealing.

“You need her,” she adds, too simply, too condemningly, and I have to swallow down fury and terror.

Because she’s right.

The night drags and drags and drags, dread and disgust whipping me into a tumble of disquiet and every quiet tremble of fear or pleasure from her tempting me into her head.

[kalosophia]

The Alphaeus — Chapter 3

*

SOC. Thank you, I will. For it appears to me and to anyone who knows you but a little, that you have in your life acquired some ample wealth, at least sufficient to satisfy your desire for it. Is this a fair statement, Alphaeus?

ALP. It is as fair as it is true.

SOC. And would you say that this attainment of sufficient wealth has resulted in your condition of being happy?

ALP. I would say this, as it is also as fair as it is true.

SOC. But do you think that if you were to increase this wealth that your happiness would increase likewise?

 ALP. I have already stated that I have sufficient, and that I have satisfied my desire for wealth, and that I am happy with what I have acquired; so that I do not desire more, and care not whether it may add any small increment to my happiness – for I am content, Socrates.

SOC. It maybe that you are, Alphaeus, and in that case I commend you; but consider this.

ALP. What is it that you bid me to consider now?

SOC. To what degree your happiness is dependent upon the preservation and maintenance of your wealth.

ALP. That is an unworthy consideration, Socrates; and you would be wise, Telamon, to dismiss it along with me. For I am happy, both in myself and with what I have acquired, and this no sane person can deny.

SOC. Strenuously asserted, my friend; but if I frame the consideration within a question, perhaps it will appear more palatable. Do you consider that your happiness, in this respect, is dependent upon the preservation and maintenance of your wealth?

ALP. Your question is no more palatable than it was in its previous disguise.

SOC. But it is a maskless question, and only requires some appropriate reply.

ALP. Then I reply that my happiness will be but little or not at all affected by some limited lessening of my wealth.

SOC. And if the lessening of your wealth is considerable, and very much so, would this have any effect at all upon whether you are happy or otherwise?

ALP. As this will never happen I can make no intelligent reply. For what is not possible is hardly worth contemplating.

SOC. Yet even with the great, this type of occurrence has proved possible, so imagine, if you can, this very considerable reduction of your wealth, and what effect upon your happiness may be produced.

ALP. You are impertinent, Socrates, and dominated by envy, thinking only the poor, such as yourself, can be happy; though this happiness is without choice or effort, and is clung on to like a crack in a cliff-face.

SOC. Is the mere thought of such a reduction in your means sufficient to produce some effect?

ALP. It is not the thought that is affecting me, it is you, and your dog-like gnawing at old bones.

SOC. Forgive me, Alphaeus, for the hungry love to gnaw. But, if you will, let us leave behind the subject of wealth, and consider some other of those few desires of man, and which you say that you have satisfied. What then of your health, and your happiness regarding its condition? In a similar manner, would you say that a considerable reduction in your good health would have any effect upon your happiness? Or do you say that this also is not possible, and, therefore, not worthy of consideration?

ALP. With the wealth that I possess, I shall be able to mitigate any bad effects of ill-health, in as much as it is possible; and the rest I shall bear as contingencies of life. Hence my happiness will be but little disturbed, save as it is for any man facing his expiry from this life.

SOC. But what, then, do you say now to this? How would the happiness of any man be affected if he is reduced to poverty, his health has failed, his power has no influence, his family disowns him for failing in his duties, and his good reputation has been turned upside down, and he is known only as poor, sick, powerless and alone? Do you still say that you would be happy, when all these desires, having been fulfilled, are then become unsatisfied and raw?

ALP. Fie on you, Socrates! What man could remain happy if all these things were removed, or whose desires were never satisfied in the first place?

SOC. What man, indeed, Alphaeus? But I have spoken of extremes, and it may be that the middle ground is safest. Suppose we find the man that has sufficient wealth for his needs, together with sufficient good-health, and power, and good family, and a good reputation though it be not broad or well known; is this the man, then, who is truly happy? And though he should lead a quiet life, and disturb none, and be a friend to many, will he thus be truly happy? Or will his happiness also be at risk, from the decrease or increase in his satisfaction of those universal desires you have nominated?

ALP. This man would be happy in his own manner, and to the degree that his desires have been fulfilled; and this is the same as I said at the first, before you began your minute dissection.

SOC. But were he to verge to one extreme or the other, would his happiness be altered accordingly?

ALP. That it may be, for these desires unsatisfied lead to unhappiness, and satisfied to the desired degree will produce happiness.

SOC. Then do you now say, that the desire to satisfy these desires to a desired degree is the pathway that leads to true happiness?

ALP. I do.

SOC. But what, if each of these desires is unfulfilled, is it then possible for a man to be happy?

ALP. This would truly be a sad man, Socrates, who cannot satisfy his desires at all; and in him that natural desire to be happy would be all but impotent.

SOC. That may well be, Alphaeus, but at this point we cannot be certain.

ALP. But we can, Socrates, we can! For where will you find the man who does not desire wealth, and power, and health and family and reputation? Can we find him anywhere, or is it only you?

SOC. As I am still unsure of what true happiness consists, and how it may be attained, whether I have these desires or not, or to what degree they are useful or otherwise to this attainment is but of little value. Yet come, Alphaeus, and see if we can summarize what you say and teach. Is it that the desires of men are few in number, and are capable of being satiated and satisfied for so long as they are being fulfilled; and that the more they are fulfilled the happier that man will be, and that the less these same desires are fulfilled the happiness will be proportionately less? Is this what you propose to us all?

ALP. It is.

SOC. And that true happiness is only true for so long and in so much as these desires are fulfilled and satiated?

ALP. Again, I do say so.

SOC. But is not something that is true always true? Or will it only be true sometimes and for some periods?

ALP. You tell me, sagacious Socrates.

SOC. I will, as it appears to me, and that if something is sometimes true it is also sometimes not true; but if something is simply true it will always be that which it is.

ALP. And so what now? Where is this leading?

SOC. It is leading to the distinction between apparent and true happiness; and that the former appears and does not appear, but the latter simply is what it is. And further, that it is the path to the former which you sell and teach, but not the path to the latter.

ALP. It is ever your way to bring those down who possess more of anything than you, I well know this; and I not only teach the way to happiness, but also how it may be attained, maintained and retained, and it is true and happiness and true happiness – nothing more or less, and that is an end to it!

SOC. It is well, Alphaeus, that you are sure of what you do. But, if you would indulge me, please answer me one or two more questions.

ALP. I will do so if the time allows. What say you, Telamon? Shall we stay a while longer?

TEL. I do not know quite what to say at this moment, for this conversation is now resounding in my mind. But yes, Alphaeus, it would be good to stay for a little more time.

ALP. Then we will, Telamon, for your sake if not for mine. What is it then, Socrates, that you now wish to ask?

SOC. Only this, in the first place; would you say that there is a limit to what any man may desire?

ALP. Yes, there is; and it is the limit that a man imposes according to his ambition.

SOC. But that in itself, the desire will not naturally limit itself, but will desire to add to or supplant that which it has already successfully obtained?

ALP. That is probably so, Socrates,

SOC. And is it probable that the more a desire desires, and the more it obtains what it desires, that it will thus become stronger and more powerful?

ALP. That, too, is probable.

SOC. What then, is it that the more powerful and stronger the desire becomes, the more difficult will it be for anyone to impose a limit upon it?

ALP. That is so.

SOC. And do you teach each of your followers what is the appropriate limit for their desires?

ALP. I do not, for that would be presumptuous and meddling.

SOC. Then do they set their own boundaries according to their ambitions, and in so far as their desires are still capable of being limited?

ALP. They do.

SOC. But you do not teach how desires may be limited, whether gentle, or vehement, or greatly powerful?

ALP. I do not, and I know not of anyone who does.

SOC. That may well be so, Alphaeus; but you are in danger of releasing a certain Ate’s dragon for yourself, for your followers and for us all.

ALP. I know exactly what I am doing, Socrates, and you would do well to remember that in the coming weeks. But what is this creature of which you now speak, and have brought in from some obscure place?

SOC. It is a tale from an island very much west of here, and one that I heard early in my youth; but to tell it may take more time than you will allow.

TEL. Time is not yet pressing, Socrates, so please relate this tale if it has any bearing on this invigorating discussion.

SOC. And you, Alphaeus, is this your wish also?

ALP. If Telamon wishes to hear this story, I will wait patiently along with him.

(to be continued)

— Guy

[moonlightstars16]

Chapter 4 ~ Magic Has It’s Price

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

Connie ran and ran as far as her feet would carry her. After what she saw, she couldn't bare to stay anymore. How could she expect for him to keep her word after what he had just done. She felt sick as the image of that beast of a lion sinking it's fangs into the innocent man's flesh. Her captor just so easily turning is back on them without a shred of empathy. She covered her mouth trying not to throw up as she blindly ran. Suddenly tripping and falling down into the grass beneath her.

Feeling the pain on her knee, Connie sat up and tried to regain her breathing from running so fast; looking down at her newly scrapped up knee. Not too bad but the small trail of blood had her worried. Her elbow had the same fate. Glancing around she took note of where she was, another garden. Only this particular spot area seemed different. The plants were overgrowing, except for the grass which seemed freshly cut. Just right before her was a beautiful fountain, though cracked and worn down from time. Still the waters flowed effortlessly.

"What are you doing here?!" A deep more elderly voice rang out, as Connie gasped and turned to see an older man with long dark gray hair, dressed in a brown, yet more relaxed suit, and a navy blue robe like cloak.

"I-I'm sorry I didn't mean to come here I just-"

"Wait, you don't look like the others." The man interrupted leaving Connie even more confused.

"What-?" Then it hit her, he was talking about the human's that were held in captivity. Instantly the horrific scene flashed in her mind once more. Making her shake slightly a bit more.

"Hey you look a bit pale, my dear, are you alright?" The man's voice seemed much more calm and gentle than before. Holding out his hand for her, she took it hesitantly. His friendly gesture made her feel like she could trust him. Though after everything, her cautious side kept her guard up. "I don't believe we've properly met. I'm Greg Universe, caretaker of the gardens." He smiled hopefully coming out to be more inviting than scary. Connie smiled back faintly trying her best to be polite.

"My name is Connie, and... I just arrived here about an hour ago." Her smile seemed to waiver once she was reminded of her current reality.

"Ah so you're the mysterious guest from earth!"

"More like a prisoner...." She corrected, speaking only above a whisper, just enough for him to hear. Greg's smiled disappeared upon hearing the sadness in her voice. Then he noticed the scrape on her elbow.

"Here, my dear, let me help you." He smiled offering his hand and he accepting it once more. Leading her towards the fountain. Then gesturing for her to sit as he dipped a couple small pieces of cloth, from his robe pocket, into the fountain. While she adjusted herself, lifting the hem of her skirt just enough over her knee. Then lifting her elbow, he gently pressed the cloth against her skin. Connie hardly felt the pain, but that was only the beginning of her curious questions. Eyes widening as the scrape was healed instantly, not even a small scab left behind.

"How is this possible?" Her voice full of wonder and amazement. Greg smiled while dipping the cloth again before handing it too her. Taking it as if it was made of glass, Connie barley touched her knee before the scar disappeared, just like her elbow, nothing was left behind.

"Well magic has it's place here."

"Magic?! I thought it was all just in fairytales and imagination." Greg chuckled slightly at her remarks.

"Well that is partially true. Any strong imagination can hold even the most powerful of magic on earth. Well actually anywhere that humans thrive. They just don't know it's potential. Now here they exist as if they lived in the oxygen itself." Greg was the most kind soul she met yet, well aside from Pearl. It made her feel happy to know she wasn't alone.

Still even knowing another human who could understand her, didn't change the fact that she was a prisoner. Thought flooded back to her as she gulped and gripped both her arms. "I'm sorry you had to witness what he had done." He sighed and rubbed the back of his head. "I know it's hard to understand but-"

"I prefer not to understand him, he's a monster." Connie said with hidden anger in her tone. He looked up as if owning up to something terrible.

"Steven's my son." She moved her hand to her lips, realizing what had just happened.

"Forgive me, I'm sorry, I didn't realize..."

"I have no intention of justifying him. I know the things he does is terrible." He paused sighing, standing up from the fountain and continuing. "But I also know he wasn't always this way. When he was little, there was so much hope and light in his heart. Curious about the world and caring for every soul he met." Greg suddenly laughed at an old memory. "When he was little he could sing the 'Cookie-Cat' ice cream commercial jingle to memory. And since then I never regretted teaching him music."

"Wait, 'Cookie-Cat'? You lived on earth?" Her tone now more confused as she stood up and walked towards him.

"He was born there actually, and we lived in peace for a long time. Steven, myself, Pearl, Spinel, Amethyst, Garnet, Bismuth, Peridot, Lapis and...." he stopped glancing at the fountain statue. "Rose..." Connie assumed the rest were other gems but why did he look so sad? Who was Rose? As if reading her thoughts, Greg answered with a voice full of love and sorrow. "Rose was my wife and Steven's mother." She followed his gaze to the fountain and saw that the statue must've been her image.

"She's beautiful"

"She was truly the most beautiful gem I ever laid eyes upon." His words felt so sincere and full of distant longing that she ever wondered if anyone would love her like Greg had for Rose.

"Where is Rose now?" She asked hesitantly not wanting to tear him away from his memory, and yet curiosity consumed her once again.

"She died giving birth, well gave her form to him that is... it's complicated." 'It sure seems like it' Connie thought. "This fountain is a memorial for her. She had the power to heal and her healing tears flow freely forever." He said before shaking his head and smiling at Connie who was giving him the most sincere, empathetic look she could give. "You know I think she would've liked you."

"And I see this is where you've been hiding." Connie gulped as they turned to see Steven leaning against a tree amongst the shadows, arms folded across. His eyes were glowing bright though he seemed less angry than before. Still his intimidating look didn't help make her feel less anxious. "Father, it would be nice to see you spend less time in this pathetic garden and more time on your new duties."

"I know what I have to do, son." Greg fought back the urge to say more. He himself grew tired of their quarrels.

"How did you find this place?" Steven's gazed directed towards Connie's.

"It was by accident, I didn't know where I was looking-"

"Of course it happened that way." He sighed stepping out from the shadows. "Pearl has been waiting to discuss how you will present yourself to the Diamonds. If you are done wasting my time, follow me." Steven turned and began to walk away with Connie following suit. She glanced back only to give a passing smile to Greg, who returned the favor.

Though he was only a foot taller than her, his strides were very long which made her almost run to keep up with him. Suddenly he stopped, herself almost bumping into him, thankfully she avoided that. The glow in his eyes faded upon seeing her expression. He could notice her fear a galaxy away, to him she was an open book of emotions and yet so confusing. The guilt that she even saw kept gnawing away at his gut, but couldn't place why. It's not like he cared about what anyone thought.

"I'm not someone to cross with. Everyone here knows there place, one step out of line and consequences will be had. What you witnessed earlier was only a part of what I can do." Though trying to hide it, her trembling couldn't be helped. Upon seeing this his demeanor changed to a much calmer state unintentionally. Still she had to understand her place now, even if it was only temporary. "Now do you truly understand?"

"Yes" was all Connie could say. She couldn't even find the right formality to address him as. Besides monster, asshole, and a few others she would surely get killed over. However lifting her gaze to match his, expression full of anger as if to say she wasn't going to be belittled or be used as a puppet like the others. "I will obey your orders, but I want to remind you this is only temporary. Once we both hold up our ends of the deal, then I no longer will serve you." Her defiant tone and words were shocking. The strength to stand up to him gained his interest. Normally Lion would be called in and she would've been bleeding to death. Still he somehow found it amusing and quite refreshing that someone like her would challenge him. So he decided to "play" along.

"Is that so? Well while that's true, how about we add to our deal?" Her empathy and compassion for humans she never even met was remarkable to him. In fact the idea that came together was perfect for this. "Let's say this deal is done, you are free to go. However if you stay here with me, I can offer you anything you desire. I will comply to do so. In turn, you will be my companion for the rest of your life." She gasped and tried to maintain her composure though faltering slightly.

"As in...marriage?" the words felt almost poisonous in that moment.

"I suppose you could say that. And before you answer, let me remind you I stated I will give you anything. Including perhaps sparing the humans from the zoo, or in fact all of humanity. Hell I'll even throw in no more shattering of gem kind!" He chuckled villainously. Allowing all his words to sink into her own thoughts. Before she would've rejected him, but now he made an offer so impossible to refuse. Still the conflict inside tore her in two. Doubting that he would keep to his word.

"All of humanity?" She asked hesitantly and unsure she heard him right.

"Not a single human from now until the end of time, will I hurt. However if you refuse, then I suppose me taking a few humans while transporting them to their new location would satisfy me and my human zoo." If what he was saying was true, Connie felt the weight of her choice balance in her hands. This could save humanity from the beast that stood before her. All she would have to do is surrender her own life to him. Though she knew her answer, that sickening feeling once more overtook her at the thought of being his. Even so she had to do the right thing... just hoping it was the right choice.

"Alright... you have a deal." She said before slightly gasping, feeling herself being backed up against the wall; under his intense gaze. As if hypnotizing her into a trance like state. He advanced towards her with every step she took. Pressing his left hand against the wall next to the side of her head. Gently caressing her cheek  with his right; gloved leather fingers so supple and warm against her skin. Removing her glasses to get a good look behind her eyes.

"I-I need them too-" She began before his finger touched her lips.

"You are truly...beautiful...." He cut off, the words spoken with such a sensual tone made her silent. His eyes bore into hers as if paralyzing her soul in submission. Feeling her tremble and hearing deep breathing apparent but becoming much calmer with every passing second. Then without warning he leaned towards her and placed a gentle yet passionate kiss upon her lips. Being careful to avoid the mask touching her face. He cradled her cheek in his hand. Whimpering slightly, though muffled from the kiss, feeling something inside her twinge in pain. Once he pulled away, smirking as he watched her expression. Wiping away the single tear that fell from her cheek.

Flinching slightly Connie slowly opened her eyes. Gasping as everything suddenly became more clearer. Her glasses where still in his possession, she wasn't wearing them! As if by a miracle her sight returned in full force. She could see everything without any blur and in such intricate detail... including him. Steven watched as the moment of realization striking her. Though he despised his own mother, he did have to face the truth that he had her healing powers. However they were of his own design.

"H-how-...?" The shock was still slightly overwhelming for her to form complete sentences. He chuckled slyly as he ran his hand through her hair, twisting a single lock around one finger. Gazing into her eyes with such intensity once more.

"You belong to me....that is the price you must pay." The heaviness of those words weighed on her heart, knowing what he is now and what they had just done. Connie was paralyzed from what had just happened. 'I just let a murder kiss me... What have I done....' It was too much for her to handle in just a short amount of time. Her head suddenly felt light and darkness clouded her vision before she felt her strength being taken out from under her. Steven caught her just in time as she fainted in to his arms. Her body molded almost perfectly against his.

'Completely hopeless...' He thought as he adjusted her head to be more against his upper arm and shoulder. Walking away, barely noticed a certain long limbed gem watching in the shadows. But he did notice. Stopping in his tracks he awaited for her to speak.

"Do you really think she could love you?" Spinel's tone was full of spite. Seeing the scene laid out before her was sickening. It seemed he had feelings for the human, while else would he carry her and not let her drop too the floor. Something was definitely going on with them.

"Love?" Steven scoffed laughing "As if there is such as thing for me. No this is just a game of wits and deals. Nothing more nothing less."

"Why not add 'bet' to that name." At the subtle suggestion, he turned to face her. Spinel smirked, pleased to have captured his attention, walking forward with her hands behind her back, posture straight.

"I'm listening"

"I bet she won't hold her end of the deal. It'll be hard to do, after all, seeing your true nature earlier today. Oh and that kiss, man her face was almost priceless to see after you planted one on her." Steven maintained a powerful composure as he took in all she was laying out before him. "Anyways, she wont' last very long I can almost guarantee that. However if I loose the bet then I-"

"Will become the Diamonds playmate." Steven smiled wickedly as Spinel went silent. The Diamonds always knew Spinel was Pink's playful pet (at least that's how they saw her as). Though they had let her stay with Steven in a sense to torture him. Recently however they took interest once more in the playful gem. Seeing how they understand that Steven was never going to be Pink. Still they have there fun. Perhaps it was the nostalgia from Pink's 'sweet' days before the war. Or maybe just another obsession to hoard over, perhaps even both. But they wanted her.

However the thought of being away from Steven hardened her heart even more so. He was strong, intelligent, powerful. She craved it all. And if he were gone then she would be in control. Plus the fear for being in the Diamonds control again was far from ideal. Looking at the unconscious human in his arms made her smirk, there was no way this human will keep up her promise. 'Weak and fragile, just like all the rest of her kind.'

"Alright, but if I win, then it is me whom you must marry." Steven laughed once more at the preposterous idea. Knowing full well she never truly cared for him, but only what he had. It was truly a pathetic site. Still he couldn't turn down a bet, especially one so challenging.

"Let the games begin."

[emotionally-imbruised]

Harry when he realizes he is in love with me uh I mean yn.

Maybe it’s not this huge ordeal. Maybe it’s something simple, and that’s what makes it all so surreal to both him and you. The two of you could be walking home after a night out together, it’s raining, but you managed to convince him that the walk three blocks back home to your apartment wouldn’t kill the two of you and there was no need for him to call a driver.

Except now it starts down pouring and within all of five minutes you have your arms wrapped tightly around your exposed arms because someone was too stubborn to bring a jacket out with them. Harry can basically hear your teeth chattering from where he walks beside you, and despite him wanting to make a joking comment about your current predicament; he finds himself shrugging off the fancy designer jacket he’s wearing and placing it gently over your shoulders as an instinctive reaction instead. You immediately try to protest against his actions, but he just gives you a knowing look. He couldn’t care less about your arguing because at the moment… his biggest concern is you being comfortable, and boy is he obstinate when he has his mind set to something.

His hands linger on your shoulders for a moment as he continues looking down at you with an unreadable expression for a moment, before shaking his head and awkwardly looking to the ground as the two of you fall back in step with each other. You remain silent but you observe him. The way he’s subtly gnawing on his bottom lip is enough for you to know that his mind is racing about something, and if you know your boyfriend as well as you think you do; you know it’s best to address what could be bugging him. With a small breath as you tuck a stray piece of your soaking wet hair behind your ear, you think of what to say before reaching over to link your hands together as you continue walking. “Uhm… thanks H.”

“S’no problem,” he mutters dismissively and mindlessly squeezes your hand while continuing staring down at his feet dragging against the pavement. “Don’t want you to get sick.”

It now feels as though a knot in your stomach has not only formed but has also tightened and quadrupled in size just because of his tone. He’s acted weirdly all night for some reason and it’s throwing you right off. When out at dinner with friends he didn’t talk to you all that much, and seemingly avoided even just looking at you the entire time… but yet, he was consistently touching you.

Whether it had been his hand on your knee while he looked across the table to listen to whatever Grimmy had been going off about, the sneaky ways he’d pull your hand up to his lips to place a soft peck upon it, or even how he wasted no time in pulling you closer to him once you sat back down on the booth after getting back from grabbing another drink; Harry has been giving you seriously mixed signals all night, and you’re convinced this boy is going to give you freaking whiplash if you don’t figure out why.

You casually glance up again to see he’s now staring forward as he runs his free hand over the stubble that has been shadowing his facial features for the past week or so. His jaw is tense, his eyes don’t hold their usual comforting warmth, and he seems to be thinking so deeply about something that it’s actually driving you crazy no knowing what it is. 

With a huff and not much thought into what you’re doing, you come to a complete stop without any warning. It takes a second for him to realize what what’s going on, but when your hand slips out of his grasp; he turns around in an instant to look at you confusedly, and that’s when you snap. “Harry, is something bothering you?”

“Wha- what makes you think that?”

“Everything!” You exclaim dramatically while throwing your arms up in aggravation. You flinch slightly as you let them fall back to your sides and it makes an unpleasant noise as they smack against Harry’s wet jacket but brush it off quickly. “You’ve been acting so weird all night long. But not to everyone, just to me and- did I do something?”

“No of course not,” he states firmly, and you let out a scoff. “Y/N, I can assure you that what’s bothering me isn’t because of you.”

“Then what is it?” You ask with a tone that has no effort in hiding just how annoyed you are.

“It’s me!”

“You- Harry what does even mean? You’re not making any sense-.”

“It means that I’m in love with you ok?” He cuts you off while frustratedly pushing his hand through his soaked curls, and you let out a gasp.

“What?”

“I love you Y/N,” he repeats, and you can hear your breath hitch. In the time the two of you have known each other, there’s always been the bubbly friendship love that you’ve always shared. He was your best friend, your person — the one you knew you could talk to about anything and was there to pick up your pieces when you went to him when it felt as though life was crumbling at your fingertips. Harry’s been there for it all; the life highs, the lows, the stupid ex relationships, or even just to be a shoulder to lean on in a time of need… He also just so happens to be the boy that you’ve fallen completely head over heels in love with.

The two of you starting to date was sure a long time coming. You’ve known for quite some time that Harry had significant feelings towards you, but you never knew the extent of them… let alone how they matched exactly how you feel about him. You’ve never expressed the fact that you’re in love with him to his face out of fear it’d only be one-sided regardless of being a couple or not, and now hearing him say that out loud to you has you completely tripping over your words.

“Harry-.”

“And that scares the hell out of me,” he continues while stepping towards you. “It scares me because I can’t even describe how much I love you. Everything I do isn’t just for me anymore love, it’s for you too. These past few nights I’ve laid awake letting my mind race, and you’ve been the centre of all those thoughts. I haven’t been able stop thinking of how my favourite feeling is the one I get just by seeing you smile, or hearing you laugh. I’ve consistently though about how in the long run, you’re the one I want to come home to after stupidly long amounts of time away because of work. Your happiness is a priority to me, and god help me to never be like those people who have misused the trust you’ve given them and hurt you because I will not be able to forgive myself for ever doing something like that to you. Y/N, you deserve the world and fuck, I want to be the one to give it to you.”

He stares at you with wide eyes once he finishes his spiel and lets out a sigh of defeat when you remain speechless. He’s put himself out there and feels as though he shouldn’t have, but what he doesn’t notice is what actually is going on. The water streaming down your face from the rain has merged with the tears that are now flowing from your eyes and it’s really adding to the dramatics of it all. You feel as though your heart could burst by how much you love the man standing in front of you. The fact that he feels the same is still so much to take in and you’re still unable to form a sentence because of it. You can see how stiff he is as he waits for you to respond and can also pick up on how he’s silently beating himself up for even saying anything.

The sound of the rain hitting the pavement seems deafening to him as that’s the only noise that surrounds the two of you, rather than him hearing the words he so desperately wants to come out of your mouth that assure him you feel the same. With a small pathetic laugh at himself, he shifts his stance from one foot to the other and shakes his head. “Forget I said that.”

He looks at you once more and that’s when you find your courage to respond. Your body seems to have a mind of its own as your feet move you across the already small space between you and your boyfriend until you have one hand placed on his cheek, the other on his neck — and are pulling him towards you so your lips can meet.

The action throws him off at first, but with the way his arm snakes around your waist to pull you closer to him so he can deepen the kiss… you think it’s safe to say this is a good enough response to what he said. So, you both stand there making out in the pouring rain for a few moments before he pulls away slightly and lets out a small chuckle.

“Well alright then.”

“I love you,” you blurt out, and watch his eyes soften as he gazes down at you; letting a crooked smile stretch its way across his swelling lips. “So fucking much Harry. Don’t ever think otherwise.”

“Deal,” he responds cheekily and tangles his hand into your hair, pulling you towards him so his lips can crash against yours all over again.

ps. I 100% listened to She Will Be Loved on repeat while listening to this LEAVE ME ALONE

[vesperlionheart]

Pompeii 53

Sakura woke and realized it was too early to be awake, only to jump out of bed and run for the toilet as the pounding behind her head made the rest of her come undone. She threw up into the toilet, thankful for small mercies. After the first lurch there was a moment when she thought she was done before nausea hit her again. Her head was ringing and she had to shut her eyes to it.

There were footsteps coming up behind her and she heard her door creaking back shut. Then there were hands combing through her hair, pulling it back. Sakura glanced up and relaxed when she recognized Sai.

He didn’t say anything, but watched with a worried expression as she emptied the last of her stomach with what was left of her dignity. She moved off her knees and rolled against the wall and Sai followed, hovering like a shadow.

“Sakura?”

“It’s fine, just...something I ate,” she whispered, feeling the sore parts of her throat rub raw. She needed to wash her mouth out and brush her teeth, but she was too tired to stand just yet.

“No one else was getting sick,” Sai helpfully supplied. “Are you sure?”

Sakura cracked one eye open and pouted. Sai stood up and leaned over her to turn on the sink and fill a cup with water. He crouched down a moment later and urged her to have a sip. Sakura forced herself to stand first, but accepted the cup to use in washing out her mouth.

Sai reached behind her and turned on the lights, flooding the dark room with color. Sakura flinched and shut her eyes to it, but not before she noticed the irritation of her scars.

“Your marks!”

Sakura spit out the water and bent over the sink, hiding them from view with her loose hair. “It’s fine.”

Sai pawed at her hair, pulling it back enough to see the scars on her neck, standing out darker and meaner than before. “What are they doing to you?”

The memory came back a moment too late. The proof was in her hands, under her fingernails. “It was me.”

“Wh-what?” Sai’s face showed his confusion well. He had come a long way from the emotionless boy who had to learn how to smile. “What do you mean it was you?”

His eyes were as open and clear as they were beautiful, making Sakura uneasy to show herself to him when she looked anything less than her best, though she knew better. She knew Sai didn't care about superficial appearances and it was only her anxieties that whispered such cruel things in her head.

Sakura took a deep breath and found the words.

“I did this to myself, in my sleep. I’ve done it a few times...when I have nightmares. I can feel her hands on my neck and I’m back there.” Sakura raised her head and stared at her face in the mirror. She touched one of the marks on her neck. “I’m back there and she’s killing me all over again. I just wanted to get her hands off. I just wanted...I…”

Sai’s arms wrapped around her waist from behind and she watched him in the mirror press himself close to her. His head was bowed into her back, shivering. Sakura reached down and rubbed her hands over his cold fingers.

“I’m better now,” Sakura whispered. “Thank you for coming to check up on me.”

“I don’t want to see you like this. Why is it still hurting you? You’re healing I thought.”

“I am,” she sighed. “My wounds are sealing up and one day not even these marks on my neck will be around, but not all wounds are visible, honey.”

“Why is it still bothering you so bad?” Sai lifted his head enough to press his lips to her spine and kiss the rise of her bones there. “I want you to be better. Isn't there something I can do, or some way I can take this from you?”

She thought her words over carefully before responding. Trauma was hard to understand for most people, even after experiencing it first hand. She understood where her nightmares were coming from, and she knew they were irrational, but the fear still ate at her, gnawing and nibbling on different days.

“It was a serious moment in my life where I nearly died. I’ve never experienced fear like that before. When someone gets hurt, even after they heal or hear an apology, the matters aren’t always fixed so easily.”

She thought of Sasuke in the streets of Pompeii, looking to her for an easy forgiveness. She could forgive him, but nothing would really change. Her pain still existed. Her trauma still haunted her into the night. He didn’t want forgiveness. He wanted her to make him feel better.

“What do I do?” Sai whispered into her neck.

Her hearing wasn’t what it once was, even with Tsunade’s magic and medicine, but Sakura still heard Sai’s confusion loud and clear. Even without sound, she felt the vibration of his plea on her skin.

Sakura turned around and reached for his face. Sai let her do as she pleased, but kept his arms around her waist. “You’ve done more than you know. I dream about you, ya know?”

Sai blinked, surprised. “Me?”

“Yeah, I have lots of different dreams, but you’re a hero in the one’s I’m lucid enough to control. I see you save me and I wake up knowing you’re in this house, close to me. You are my hero. I’m comforted by your presence more than you know.”

“My presence brings you peace?”

“Of course.”

Sai paused to consider this and then nodded. “Would me staying closer to you at night bring you even more peace?”

Sakura snickered before she could stop herself. “Wa-was that your way of trying to sleep with me?” she asked on a laugh, knowing well enough that his desire to sleep with her was nothing more nefarious than cuddling.

He had asked several times in the past and had tried to wheedle his way under her covers more than once. Maybe it had something to do with being so emotionally stunted, but Sai was handsy when left unchecked. Sai loved to trace lines up and down her bare arms, or draw invisible designs into the skin of her wrist with nothing more than the pads of his fingers. His desire to fall asleep next to her was just another example of how touch starved he really was.

“Why is it bad? Does it scare you?”

“No, I trust you Sai, I just…” Sakura couldn’t help but smile. Her fear washed away by his antics. “Are you teasing me right now?”

“No, I honestly want to sleep with you.” He jiggled his shoulders for emphasis.

Sakura rolled her eyes. “If the others could hear you now.”

“They also want to sleep with you. It’s been a topic of conversation on more than one occasion and Indra has threatened to fight several people because of it. Apparently he’s ‘old fashioned’ according to his brother.”

Sakura ducked her head into Sai’s chest to muffle her giggles. “Oh no, don’t tell me that,” she breathed. “I’ll not be able to look any of my friends in the face tomorrow without thinking about it.”  

“Then you can just face me?”

Sakura flicked at his nose and laughed when she saw his smirk. He was a bit dense at times, but it seemed she was underestimating him more and more. He laughed back and tugged her back to rock between his arms, like one would with a baby.

“Hang on,” Sakura broke free from her sway and crossed the room to her bed. She pulled off the sheets and comforter before tossing a couple of pillow over her shoulder to Sai, who caught them with ease. “You can carry those down for me.”

“Down where?”

“Just follow and be quiet. Everyone else is asleep.”

Sai did as he was bid and tip toed behind her, as silent as a shadow down the stairs and into the main living room. Sakura dropped her blankets and started to tug two of the couches around before throwing her blankets over them. She pinned the blankets down on the backs of the couches with a few well placed books and then took her pillow to throw underneath the blanket fort.

“What are you doing?” Sai asked, kneeling down to where several couch pillows had fallen.

Sakura felt giddy as she joined him on the floor. “I would do this all the time as a child. It’s a pillow fort.”

“Don’t you mean a blanket fort?”

“Same difference, come on in.”

Sakura tugged on his wrist and then crawled in under the sheets only to turn around and pull her comforter in after her. There were a handful of fluffy throws she tugged off the couch that were useful enough to cushion the floor under them. Even with a plush carpet, the floor was the floor.

“What are we to do here?” Sai asked. He crawled in after her and turned around.

Sakura tugged him down to lay atop a pillow like her and then she threw her comforter over him as well. “Just take a nap, that’s what pillow forts are meant for.”

Sai’s eyes lit up as the comforter settled over his shoulders.  “You mean...we get to sleep together?”

“Something like that,” Sakura admitted around a yawn. “Just...go to sleep.”

Sai nodded and then settled in, scooting closer to Sakura’s side of the fort. She didn’t move but she didn’t open her eyes either. Hesitantly, he reached for her hand under the comforter and held it in his, content to fall asleep at last.

This time, there weren't any nightmares.

Sakura knew the upcoming emergency elections were a big deal, but she didn’t know how big of a deal they would be in her own house. Kin, Dosu, and Zaku especially seemed hyper invested in everything said by the candidates and the pollers who were featured on the news.

Debates were in the evening, after everyone had a chance to come home from work and watch TV, but before the debates each candidate had an opportunity to sit down and answer questions on the local news station.

“Transparency! That’s really not too much to ask. We live in Pompeii for that reason. We’re sick and tired of lies and hiding things. We want to know the truth and for our leaders to be honest with us,” a younger woman entered to the camera before moving off down the sidewalk to carry on with her day’s errands.

“Amen sister,” Zaku cheered, raising a fist and nodding along. Kin made a face at him but it was Dosu who kicked at Zaku’s back, sending the boy tumbling off his pillow seat.

“Hey! Don’t be like that. I’m allowed to have emotions.”

Kin sneered. “You’re not allowed to be annoying.”

“Says who?”

“Says the world, so sit down and shut up,” she snapped back.

Sakura grinned from her place in the kitchen where she helped Indra with the desserts. Cooking was fun, but she really enjoyed unwinding with a good pastry of cake to bake. She doubted she would ever grow out of her sweet tooth and that was just fine considering how many others in the house loved her desserts.

“They’ve been interviewing people all day. Pretty soon they’re going to have talked to every last person in town. How many people have you recognized?” Ashura asked, leaning over to watch Sakura’s hands fold the dough. He seemed oddly fascinated with the process in a way his brother disapproved of.

“A couple,” Sakura answered honestly. She hadn’t bothered to watch every personal interview, but she recognized the voices of a couple of people.

“Is it weird to see them on TV?” Ashura asked.

“Nah. Hang on, can you move these to the side, I need to spread the extra flour so this doesn’t stick.”

Ashura moved the items off the counter for her and watched as she continued to work the dough until she was satisfied.

“And what are your opinions on the candidates, both official and otherwise?” the news anchor asked.

Sakura slipped and ended up running her hand off the dough. She scowled and looked up to watch the segment feature a number of campaign posters. In addition to Itama Senju and Tsunade Senju, Mai Terumi was also running, but the fourth poster was the same home made one she had seen during her walk through town. The candid photo of her was still the same.

Indra stopped his work to watch her as well.

“I think we’re better off without a mayor to be fucking honest,” Hidan sneered before moving away from the camera shoved in his face. He walked behind a tower of tools and then shouted “Anarchy for the people!” somewhere off screen. The camera turned away just in time to avoid the flash of something exploding in his shop.

“I still don’t trust the doctor. She’s not been around since that incident. Pretty suspicious if you ask me. What does she have to hide?” another random citizen answered.

“Bullshit!” both Kin and Zaku screamed at the same time while Dosu threw a pillow. Their reactions made her grin.

“I don’t think it’s fair to put someone who doesn’t want to be in the public eye on a pedestal to criticize or worship,” Hinata Hyuga said, standing in front of a store with her sister at her side. Her eyes were hard and narrowed. “Sakura Haruno has not entered herself into this race and should not be made into a talking point for cheap news. After everything she’s gone through, can’t you understand her desire for privacy? Give her that at least.”

Then, of all people, it cut to Ino who was openly glaring into the camera. She was wearing her apron from work and the salon was in the background. “Itama Senju, are you kidding me? The child is a joke? He’s even more of a puppet than Sasori,” she sneered. Someone off to the side shouted ‘hey!’ to her Sasori comment but Ino flipped them off outside the camera’s edge.

“Hey, you asked. The Senju kid is just a puppet for his brothers and you’ll see that. It’s about time we moved away from the old families who make these messes and cover them up. Tsunade has always been honest about stuff like this, even when it wasn’t popular. She has my vote.”

“What about Mei Terumī?”

Ino shrugged. “Don’t know her as well. She seems decent, but she’s not my first pick.”

“I need to send Ino a gift basket or something,” Sakura sighed. “The girl is too good for me. Hinata too. Why is it so hard for other people to be that smart?”

Kin laughed from the living room. “Because they’re not women!”

Zaku whined in complaint but Dosu just shrugged. “That’s fair.”  

The news program cycled through a couple more people before a commercial break that ended in an update on city maintenance story that sounded dry and rehashed. There really wasn’t any new news worth covering that wasn’t the election. It was all anyone seemed to care about.  

Sakura finished putting her cookies into the oven and set the timer before taking off her apron and joining Dosu on the couch. She heard the front door open and close while the television cut to an exclusive interview clip the reporter had from a time she met with Itama Senju.

“Pompeii has been my home since forever. Yes it is important to me because of my family, but it’s also super important to me personally. This is the place I’ve made my best memories.”

Itama Senju

The adult on the screen smiled more like a child and less like the man posing in suits and promising tremendous things in fancy, rhyming campaign slogans.  

“Don’t trust that smile,” Yamato said, sliding up behind Sakura and hugging her around the waist. He leaned down and placed a kiss into her scalp before mumbling a tired ‘I’m home’ into her hair.

“Welcome home,” Sakura greeted.

She reached up with her free hand to run her fingers through his hair. He didn’t pull away but she felt the way his shoulders sagged at her touch. She scratched lightly, catching her fingers in the loop of his bun, but he just groaned in quiet appreciation when his hair came undone around his ears. It was getting almost as long as hers.  

“You sound tired,” Sai commented. He was hugging a pillow to his chest and scooting closer to where Sakura sat on the couch. “Was it long?”

“The hours were the same, but the day felt like it lasted forever,” Yamato admitted, face still buried in Sakura’s hair. He seemed reluctant to let her go.

Sai glanced from Sakura to Yamato and hummed in understanding. “I think that time can feel as if it is moving slower when there is something positive you anticipate in the future. I’ve experienced this myself and I can relate.” He paused a moment before nodding and adding, “But welcome back.”

Yamato lifted his head from Sakura’s hair to watch the television flash with different shots of Itama. Sakura remembered then that Yamato had a complicated history with the whole of the Senju family, not just Tobirama and Hashirama. Itama had to be a part of his dark upbringing too, right?

“Is he really so terrible?” Sakura asked, pulling her hand away.

“Not terrible, but untrustworthy. He’s about as flimsy as a jellyfish, with a spine to match. He’ll talk a good story about doing the right thing and standing up to his brothers, but he folds easy.” Yamato’s eyes flashed dangerous. “He can’t be counted on to do anything good if its hard or against his brother’s wishes.”

“So he’s a puppet then?” Zaku guessed.

Kin snorted. “I could have told you that. Isn’t that what I said last night, Dosu? I told you he looked like an oven mitt. Ha.”

“That’s what you meant?” Dosu whispered, looking dazed.

“He’s a puppet, of course that’s what I meant!”

Zaku and Dosu both shrugged.

“Debates are starting,” Sakura said, leaning forward. Yamato pulled his hands away only to move around the couch and sit himself down on the floor at her feet. He leaned back and played with her knees until she returned her hands to his hair, brushing her fingers through in soothing patterns.

In the kitchen Indra took out her cookies and replaced the finished tray with the next batch to be baked so she wouldn’t have to get up from her spot and deprive Yamato of his simple pleasure.

The debate rolled on and the first few questions asked of the three candidates were soft balls that had nothing of real merit. No one was going to cast their vote based on what the candidates thought of public education (pay the teachers more!)or road maintenance.

But eventually the subjects evolved and changed. There was an upturn in immigration to Pompeii as more and more visitors were coming in to stay. The hotels and airbnbs were all filling up at an unprecedented rate. Was this an issue of concern?

“The more the merrier, Pompeii is a safe and desirable haven for all. We welcome new friends gladly.” Itama laughed and threw open his arms in a gesture to drive home his point while both Mei and Tsunade frowned.

“That’s an interesting stance since the candidate has expressed concern with other, pre existing members of Pompeii’s community not being desirable neighbors. I’m not sure where his racism ends.”

Kin shot up and screamed, punching the air while Zaku and Dosu both cheered in their own way for Tsunade’s defense of their position.

It was Mei who spoke next, even though it looked like Itama wanted to defend himself as soon as possible. Mei leaned over her podium, close to the mike and stared out into the studio audience as she spoke. “It’s idealistic to think we are safe after enduring a great scare, but are we really? Is Pompeii truly as safe as can be when Orochimaru is still unaccounted for?”

“Orochimaru hasn’t been an issue the police can’t deal with. As for my racism that is slander and uncalled for malarkey of the worst kind. I’ve only shown concern for the safety of our people. Our peace was hard won we should do all we can to preserve it,” the Senju boy complained.

“Candidate Itama Senju,” the  moderator interrupted. “Does that mean you would condone investigating Orochimaru sightings?”

“There haven't been any such sightings to investigate,” he said. “If there were it would be different but the only sightings we have are of rogue agents within our borders.”

“Then you’re as blind as your brothers,” Mei interrupted, cutting in out of turn. The moderator tried to cut her off but Mei ignored him and spoke passionately into her mike. “If you’re not seeing the snake it's because you don’t want to see him, but he’s there and the citizens from the Kiri district of Pompeii can attest to that if you bother to hear their voice. Orochimaru is still out there and he’s just as much of a threat as the Kaguya kami was.”

[darlingod]

Jurdan Au

post wicked king, when jude comes back for cardans’s blood.

(can’t promise any grammar is correct)

I walk into the High King’s scattered room. It looks the same as it did a year ago, but it feels… different. Unfamiliar.

He’s at the end of the bed, head down as if disappointed, ashamed. Which he should be. He looks not like a king, but a boy. Something he never was. Never had the chance to be.

I wonder if he spends all of his time moping in his room like this. I hope he does.

He picks on the sides of his fingernails, a habit he may have picked up on from the time I’ve been gone.

I take an almost inaudible, but loud enough, step to show my presence. He doesn’t look up as he whispers, “Jude.” Not a question, a statement. After this long he knows it’s me. I do not know how he knows. And I also do not care.

I think.

“Hello, darling.” I mock what he once called me. I smile at him as if we were close friends. As if we didn’t hate each other. Yet he still doesn’t move. To see the High King in a state like this is odd, maybe even a little amusing. What has affected him this way? What could? He has his wine, his courtiers.

His crown.

What else more could he want and not have?

I’m suddenly hot with anger. The person in front of me has always had a gift of pissing me off all too easily. I hate myself for it. I hate him for it. My blood boils at the memories. Of the mere thought of him. “It’s been awhile,” my hatred is thankfully concealed. I cannot let him know the effect he still has on me. How angry he can make me. Any other feeling I had towards him is very, long gone. Not even the fae can see it.

His dark locks are dangling in front of his face, long but not too much longer than when I left. It seems Cardan never fails to take care of himself, no matter the circumstances.

What circumstances? He never cared. He exiled you because you are nothing to him.

I cock my head to the side, “Though, it wasn’t in any of my control since you exiled me,” he lifts his head up slowly, his hair naturally moving out of his face. His eyes drift to my finger, where the ring isn’t. His face is neutral but I can see the exhaustion. Good. “It was hard, however, nothing I couldn't handle.” I mention for no reason. I have nothing to prove to him.

Then why isn’t he in pieces on the floor already?

“You’ve always been able to handle anything.” A lie he believes. He truly believes that. I wish I could believe it too.

“You are not wrong, Your Unbearable Highness,” I don’t even attempt a courtesy, I’m too angry for dramatics.

As I said the words, his eyes lock with mine and I grin wider at the sadness I see in them. At the mess I see. He’s been terrible without me, this I know. This, I want to scream with delight.

“You won’t say my name.” he says and I fight a scowl.

“You don’t need a name,” I spit, “you have a title. One that I gave you and in return, you repaid in kind.” I say with laminated respect, still smiling. I lift my hand up and start picking at my nails, to act as though this conversation has no effect to me at all. “Banishing me was clever, more than I’d like to admit. I wouldn’t allow myself to believe that you had become accustomed to playing High King, turning me blind to your talents, your desires. Well played,” I take a step toward him, our gazes still connected. I’m about to take another but his next words stop me short.

“I’m sorry.” My eyes go wide and my smile falters. I swallow hard, too shocked to do anything else. Those were the last words I thought I’d ever hear from his mouth. I almost wish he didn’t say them. Maybe I could start with cutting his tongue off. It would fix so many problems.

“What?” I question unbelievably, my voice coming out high.

“I’m so sorry, Jude,” He covers the right side of his face with a hand and wipes an eye exhaustingly and a bit dramatically.

“You don’t mean that.” I accuse and he scoffs.

“Of course I do. I cannot lie.” He snaps, obviously pissed off by the fact. He relaxes himself and drops the hand on his face. “I’ve thought about it every day since you left. I’ve thought about you every day since you left.” he quietly curses at himself.

“Since you exiled me.” I correct harshly. “Since you humiliated me in front of our court. You made me look nimble and insane. You made me look powerless.” He makes a pained face though continues.

“And you killed my brother,” I flinch as he snaps. I never intended to kill Balekin. I never intended to kill anyone. It’s not my fault the fae have a talent for underestimating me. “I had plenty of reasons to exile you. You forget, Jude, that I don’t forgive. You forget that I’m not the childish, naive boy I was a year ago,”

“And who made you who you are today? Who gave you the title you currently hold?” I question but we both already know the answer. I tell him anyway, to make him realize a mortal gave him something that he, himself, a faerie, couldn’t take. “I, a weak mortal, made the folk believe you are important. They no longer think of you stupid and foolish because of me; because of a mortal.” I push my words into his face, something I’ve always been so good at, especially with him.

He pushes back. “Does it nag at you that no one knows you are the crown?” He raises a single, dark brow. “True, they don’t see me as foolish, but they see you as that. I was not the one who was exiled, I was not the one who lost the crown. I was not the one,” he tilts his head to the side, “to lose power.” And he smiles.

The Devil smiles.

“I don’t have power? Who’s the one with the knife?” It’s my turn to grin. His black eyes start to glow. I try not to remember why.

“Beside those facts, I still hate myself everyday for what I did.” My smiles fades. “It was the most idiotic thing I have ever done, and I’ve done many idiotic things.” He admits and closes his eyes, hiding whatever he feels. If he feels at all.

“Then why’d you do it?” His eyes snap open. Now it’s his turn to be surprised.

“What?”

“Was it because I posed a threat?” I take a step closer, leaving two feet separating us. “To spare your feelings?” Another step. “Or did you always feel nothing at all?” I let my emotions get the best of me, I compose myself, empty my expression, which is something I have gotten too good at. I take my last step and lean closer to his face so we are only inches apart. He’s much taller than me but I feel as though we’re on the same level. I hope I make him feel small. “You said you had many reasons to exile me, tell me the most valuable one, the one that settled my exile.” He’ll tell me, I’m not worried about that at all.

“You want to know why I really exiled you.” his eyes fall to my lips, then to my knife, then back up to my lips.

“The High King actually listens now does he?” He raises an eyebrow. I lean back up and cross my arms. “Of course I want to know. It’s been gnawing at me ever since.” I exasperate, flinging my arms in the air. As I do, he looks uncomfortable and moves his body slightly. His eyes are on my knife and I fight the urge to laugh.

He waits a few seconds to see what I’ll do, he doesn’t move until I put the knife back into my pocket. His eyes dart up to my eyes then he says, “I did it to protect you.” Impossible. So stunningly impossible I can’t believe it. I am not able to.

But he cannot lie.

For once I wish he had the ability to.

“You were constantly getting hurt, being threatened. I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to offer protection, but I would not allow my true feelings to show. Not allow you to know how I felt.” True feelings? I thought he only knew what anger and hatred were like, in those ways we were the same. He goes on, “After the Under Sea made their move and took you their prisoner, I went mad. I blamed Madoc, then myself, for not protecting you at all.” I want to scream at the memories that surface from the Under Sea.

“I never needed protection. I’m no challenged. I’m a challenge.” I pride myself, almost smiling again. But smiling is hard to do when the person you hate most stands only inches from you.

“When you were brought back to the land, and I saw you, that state you were in, I…” He looks for the words. “Hate was never such a weak word for how I felt. I wanted to rip apart the sea bit by bit. To drain the waters, or freeze it perhaps. To destroy it all whole at least.

They kept you in that dress.” His voice softly breaks. “It didn’t fit you as nearly as it had used to, you were more of a hanger for it. So frail; your rib cage was sticking out too far, as if they never fed you. Which I doubt they did.” He says bitterly. “It completely and utterly destroyed me.” He glares at me. “You destroy me.” Distaste covers his face. “And that was it for me. I was so sick of everything terrible happening to you. Sick of people using you against me.

So I began planning,” He sits up straighter. “I thought of all I could, Jude. Trust me. I want nothing more for you to stay with me. I needed you by my side, especially then. But only one idea was the most reasonable, most effective.” Exile.

Words do not find their way to my mouth.

“I’m truly sorry. You killed my brother and I still cared. I even thought you’d be glad to be sent away to your home, to be rid of ever seeing me again. Then you cried and I acted like it didn’t affect me at all. Acting is very easy when you convince yourself it’s not an act.” I know that, I’ve done it plenty of times.

I take a step back. “Did you know how miserable I was?” I shout. “How horrifying it was to be forced to go back to the home that I witnessed my parents murdered? My memories had never been so frightening. I have never been more terrified in my entire life.

I never got to know them, Cardan! I never got to love them enough. Do you know what I did get?” I yell, not intending for a reply from him. “To know what it’s like to feel absolutely nothing at all,” tears start to fall from my face, I don’t don’t have the strength to wipe them. “I never got to experience what loving was like, to be loved. I never had the chance to be a child.” I cry. “The chance to be human. I’ve never had the chance for anything, my life was fated illy.” I stay quiet a few seconds, then, “I miss them so much, everyday. I think about how I could’ve stopped it. Yelled at my father to stop or to stop my mother. Or hurt Madoc. But I just stood there, not able to do anything.” I choke out. “In the end,” I inhale slowly, trying to steady my breath. “I am always powerless.”

I don’t realize I’ve fallen to the ground, Cardan in front of me, hand cupping my cheek, eyes filled with too much real emotion that I decide not to place. “Don’t touch me.” I swat his hand away and wipe my tears, only to see him crying as well.

Cardan.

Crying.

I’ve always been so delusional.

“Stop it.” I demand. Confusion strikes his devastating face. “You don’t cry. You don’t feel anything at all.”

“You’d be surprised how I feel.” He seethes, wiping his fallen tears.

“Well then,” I say, wiping all emotion from my words. We both stand up, Cardan eyes me suspiciously. I whip out my knife faster than he can detect and push him against the hard wall, blade to his throat. “Give me a reason not to kill you,” I don’t know if I’m begging him or not.

“Oh I have no reason, though, I feel as though I need to tell you something.” I shrug, lacking care. I think.

“It’s too bad I wasn’t planning on keeping you alive either way.” I make a move to cut him-

“I love you.” I jump back immediately, as if he was the one with a knife to my throat. My knife flies into the wall, where his head just was.

Cardan stares endlessly at me. As if he can’t believe his words either.

“No you don’t,” is all I say, all I can say.

“I wouldn’t allow myself have it be true. But when I banished you, the way I felt… I knew. I knew and I thought I was going to die.” I almost laugh. “No, I knew long before that,”

“You’ve found a way to lie.” I say, stunned.

“Oh dear Jude, if I had we would definitely not be having this conversation.”