#but as somber as it is it would’ve made so much sense

[restinslices]

Everything pt2

PJO Show Ares X Child!Reader (no gender specified)

Word count: 6168 (I realized a bit late that majority is me setting up the scene. If you just wanna see their talk, read after the “~~”)

Summary: You haven’t seen your father since the last time you talked, but of course with your luck he finds you again and you’re forced to make a big decision.

Warnings: Reader is going through it, poor attempt at a fight scene, the lore and timeline is probably fucked up but ignore that, OOC Ares probably and as of typing I’m realizing MAJOR SPOILER FOR THE TITANS CURSE. To avoid this, scroll until you see “I don’t have any friends that come over” or “~” if you wanna be extra careful.

You’d love to say that not seeing your father after your last talk was some sort of surprise, but it wasn’t. Thankfully (is that selfish to think?) none of the demigods had a real good relationship with their parent. Well, Percy seemed to have a solid relationship with Posideon, but it’s not like he saw him everyday. And as selfish and heartless as it sounded, that offered you a bit of relief and comfort. It’s not like your father was sensitive and loving to you and you screwed it up. Everything was pretty much back to normal. 

 It was a pretty somber day at camp. Percy, Grover and Thalia had managed to save Annabeth and Artemis, but it didn’t come without casualties. You weren’t necessarily friends with Bianca or Zoë but you still grieved over them. The hardest part though, was watching how sad your friends had gotten, especially Percy. You knew what Percy was like. Percy was extremely loyal but that loyalty led to carrying a lot more weight on his shoulders than what was necessary. If your suspicions were right (and you knew they were), he’d blame himself for Bianca’s death. That made zero sense to you. He told you exactly how she died and to you, it seemed like Bianca made a choice. Percy couldn’t have done anything to stop it. He didn’t see it that way and you weren’t sure why you insisted on telling him over and over again and trying to cheer him up. 

 “Nico?” Percy raised to his feet when he saw you approaching. You shook your head,

 “No sign of him. He’s been missing for a week now Percy. If we were gonna find him, we would’ve found him by now”. Percy looked defeated. You were sure he knew the chances of finding him were slim to none, but you kept combing areas of the woods for him to keep him somewhat at peace. If he thought there was a chance, he wouldn’t be as depressed hopefully. 

 “I’m gonna say it again-“

 “Don’t”

 “Well what should I say to calm you down?”

 Percy thought for a moment but just shrugged and started heading inside his cabin and you followed. Percy collapsed on his own bed and you took it upon yourself to sit on the bed next to his. You didn’t know if it was because you held resentment towards your father, or if you actually liked Cabin 3 but you really wished this was your cabin instead. “Must be nice having a cabin all to yourself. No obnoxious cabin mates, no extra noise, nobody leaving their shit on the floor”.

 “I guess” was all he said back to you and you sighed. You didn’t wanna keep repeating yourself but you genuinely didn’t know what to say but not saying anything made you feel like an asshole that was ignoring the situation. 

 So you tried to change the subject. 

“Is it like this at home too? Just you and your mom? No friends over?”. 

 “I don't have any friends that can come over”

 “None at school?”

 “None”.

 That made you frown. You were older than Percy by a few years, so you had time to adjust to how lonely life could be as a half-blood and by now, you didn't return “home” either. Camp was your home now year round. You understood why Percy kept going home though. You heard about his mom and she seemed like a nice woman. You were grateful he at least had that. 

 But instead of saying something sweet and nice and voicing your thoughts, you made a joke instead. “That's why your little ass keeps getting into trouble. You have no one out there watching out for you”

 “My mom watches out for me plenty”

 “But she's not keeping schools from being blown up now is she?”. Percy rolled his eyes, but he didn't look as sad as before so you took this as a sign to keep talking “if I was watching you, you'd be alright. At least you'd have help”

 “You're tryna live with me now?”

 “Sure”, you said with a shrug. “A cool mom, random blue food, stopping you from exposing yourself - it all sounds grand”. You both laughed at your joke because that's what it was. A joke. 

 At least… it was at first. 

 Either Percy didn't know what a joke was, or he was pretty fond of having a big sibling when he was home because the next day he told you he sent an Iris message to his mom and she was fine with getting an air mattress for you. You almost told Percy that it was just a joke, but then you thought about how lonely he must be at home and how annoying it can be only having his mom to talk to about this demigod stuff. Plus, it hopefully wouldn't hurt to get a break from camp. 

 You didn't know why you decided to pray and tell Poseidon about this, but you did. The sun had set and you slipped out of your cabin and snuck into the woods. You made a mini fire and threw two candy bars the Stoll brothers managed to sneak in, which was a real shitty offering but it was all you had. You couldn't do it during the feast. You had too much to say and someone would hear. 

 “Terrible offering, I know. I hope you're listening anyway” you started. “I'm gonna be following Percy around when he goes home and I'm gonna try and keep him and Sally somewhat safe. I don't know how safe Percy can really be but I'll try anyway. I hope that's not a problem. I'm not tryna step on your toes or anything”. 

 In all honesty praying and giving offerings felt strange. You were supposed to pray to Ares everyday and give him an offering, but you stopped doing that after your last talk. The first time you threw food in a fire and didn't say his name, you thought you'd combust as a punishment. You didn't though, so you kept doing it. Occasionally you'd give offerings to other gods but it was mainly Athena. Partially because she was like Ares but not really and partially because you hoped it would upset Ares. Was it childish? Yes. But compared to someone as old as Ares, you were a child. 

 “That's all I really have to say. If you don't want me to go you can drown me in my sleep or maybe send a letter. Whatever works for you”. You looked around, expecting for some paper saying “absolutely not” to land somewhere around you but nothing happened, so you put out the fire and snuck back into your cabin. 

~

 You don't think you have a huge ego, but you definitely felt you deserved a pat on the back for how good your work was. 

 You were able to convince your own lousy family to hand over any legal documents to Sally and thankfully Percy's middle school had a highschool right next to it. Although the demigods weren't supposed to use phones, a minor text here and there saying “hey, I think there's monsters here” didn't hurt anyone. There were plenty of times you had to sneak out of your school and into his, and if you weren't so busy fighting for your life, you'd audition to be in some spy or assassin movie. 

 Thankfully though, you weren't always busy helping Percy. You figured you might as well help Sally out so you got a job at a nearby bookstore inside of a mall and honestly? You'd prefer fighting monsters over dealing with bratty customers. Seriously though, how can you be a bitch at a bookstore? 

 “I've already told you ma'am” you said in a monotone voice, “we can't give you a refund if you do not have a receipt”. 

 The black hair woman scoffed and looked at you as if you caused the problem she was having. “A receipt? Do I seem like the type of woman who keeps a receipt?! When I bought Twilight, I expected better and I hate it and now I want a refund and as the customer, I am always right!”. 

 The entire conversation made you wanna explode in front of her and change the trajectory of her life, but unfortunately it didn't happen. What was with mortals and not understanding basic store rules?

 “I would love it if you were right but you're not. No receipt. No refund”. She scoffed again and you wanted to grab her by the throat and stop the noise from ever leaving her mouth again. 

 “Well what do you expect me to do?!”

 “Pick up a different book then get out maybe?”. 

 You couldn't put a finger on the noise that came out of her next. It was some deep throaty sound with a mix of anger and disgust. “Do you know who I am? I'm Holly Holiday-” you accidentally cracked a smile at her stupid name and that just fueled her rage. She pointed a finger at your name tag and said your name, followed by “you are so done for! I'll have you eaten alive for this!”. 

 She turned on her heels and left in a huff. Fucking finally. 

 You looked over at your coworker Harper and pretended your fingers were a gun and shot yourself, getting a laugh out of her. Harper and her twin Hazel shared a few classes with you and by some coincidence they also worked in the mall. Harper was with you while Hazel worked at the costume store downstairs. You couldn't tell them apart and you weren't sure if you'd ever pass the “we talk sometimes” stage but it didn't matter right now. 

 “I know it's closing time but are you ok if I take a bathroom break really quick? I can help out when I get back”

She waved dismissively, “take your time man. Hazel'll be coming up here too”. You nodded with a small thank you and stepped into the mostly vacant mall. The mall was usually lively but with it being so late at night, the only people around were other people like that annoying customer and workers who had the misfortune of still working this late. 

 It was eerily quiet. Sure, you thought you were used to how silent it was at this time of night, but you still got the creeps and did not take your time alone in the bathroom. 

 Maybe you should have though, because once you left the bathroom that same annoying lady was waiting outside, which she definitely should not have been doing. 

 “I told you I did not like that book”. 

 Seriously? She was still complaining? She was still here after the store had pretty much closed? 

 You said something that would've gotten you fired if your boss was around, “yeah? Tough shit lady. No receipt, no refund, it's as simple as that. Don't buy books you haven't read. Now get out the mall and go take care of your kids”. 

 She snarled. A genuine snarl that made you start to sneakily slip off the bracelet you were wearing. You didn't know if gods could give other kids gifts, and either it had been allowed this whole time or Poseidon didn't care since shortly after your “chat” after hours you received a dagger that could transform into a bracelet. You thought maybe Ares had sent it, but his gifts didn't smell of the ocean and a fresh breeze. 

 Regardless of who gave it to you, that snarl didn't sound good. 

 “I don't think you're very good at your job”

 “I guess I'm not. Now do us both a favor and just leave”. 

 She didn't leave. Instead she smirked and that was all the confirmation you needed to know something was wrong. The bracelet slipped off your wrist and while the monster was transforming, you gripped your weapon and brought it up through the bottom of her mouth. You pulled it out, but not through the entry wound. You pulled it towards you, letting it split her face in half. 

 Just in case, you stabbed her in the heart, twisted the knife then pulled it out of her through the side of her chest. You didn’t have to wait for her to crumble. It was game over. A surprisingly easy win. 

 You grabbed some nearby napkins so you could wipe your dagger clean then returned it back to your wrist. 

 “What happened?” Harper asked once you stepped back inside, which was really odd for multiple reasons. 

 Firstly, you looked like you usually did. Nothing about you was particularly out of place. At least you didn't think so. 

 Secondly, she didn't sound curious. She didn't sound concerned. She sounded frustrated, like you did something wrong. 

 “Nothing” you lied. “It's nothing. Let's just clean up, yeah?”. 

 “I'm sure it's not nothing Child of Ares”. 

Your brows knitted together and you hoped you just heard wrong. You turned to look at Harper and that's when it started to click. 

 Harper. Hazel. Holly. 

 Harpies. 

 They were too lazy to pick a different initial for the first name and you fell for it like an idiot. Plus the “I’ll have you eaten alive” comment. But in all fairness, who actually takes those comments seriously? If you took every threatening comment seriously, you'd be sent to an asylum. 

 Harper's short red hair looked like flames now. Her green eyes looked hungry for your flesh and her sharp teeth glistened in the light as feathers grew from her arms. Realistically, you should've been scared. There were two alive harpies in the building, but something about a monster with a gray shirt with mini white books decorated on it really made you wanna laugh. She must've sensed this since she sneered, 

 “You think I'm funny?”

 “Do you want an honest answer?”

 “You won't think I'm so funny soon you spoiled demigod!”. You wanted to make a joke about how calling children with severe abandonment issues “spoiled” was silly, but you decided this wasn't the time. Instead you took the bracelet off. 

 Harper laughed in your face. “You think that will stop me?” 

 “Handled your friend pretty well. How about you stop trash talking and come over here so we can see if you're any different”. You don't know which comment got her so angry but she leapt at you. 

 You sidestepped her and planned on delivering a quick stab to the neck, but she must've seen it coming. She grabbed something and quickly turned to bat you in the face with it, making you stumble back. It took you a quick second to realize she hit you with a book. A Goosebumps book no less. 

 “You are incredibly childish” you mumbled and you wished you could laugh it off. Maybe you were childish too because you picked up the book and launched it at her face, feeling a tad bit disappointed when she dodged it. 

 You swung at her but she caught your wrist and squeezed hard enough to make you drop your dagger. You were quick on your feet though and you brought your available elbow down on her inner elbow (you were sure it had a scientific name but honestly who cares?). You heard a crunch and Harper screeched. Her grip loosened enough for you to snatch away while kicking her, her flying and hitting the railing. 

 You grabbed the dagger and threw it. You meant for it to hit somewhere fatal but she moved and instead it hit her directly in the eye, which made her screech even louder. 

 You snatched your necklace off and the object quickly took the shape of a double sided sword. It was a gift from your father and although he was probably pissed at you, you figured he probably wasn't watching and wouldn't care. 

 You charged at her and swung the sword. Although she was screaming in pain and was no doubt in agony, she slid under the blade. As she turned to face you, her hands moved and a sharp gust of wind knocked you off the third floor. 

 To make matters worse, Hazel decided to make an appearance. She was right below you, cackling, arms outstretched and you knew if you landed in those arms she'd devour you. 

 You did the only thing you could think of with such short timing. You angled the sword vertically and aimed directly for her mouth. She seemed to understand but it was too late. You came crashing down, your sword along with you and it slid directly in her mouth and down her throat. Because of the sword having a solid middle so you could hold onto something, it didn't go all the way through and you stumbled a bit, but you were better off than her. She stopped all movement and to make sure the job was done, you ripped the sword through her, cutting her in half. 

 “MY SISTER!”,  Harper screeched and you looked up at her with your messy sword in hand. 

 “You want more from the Child of Ares?!” You claimed you hated trash talk and you especially hated being called his child but the adrenaline was really getting to you. “I have plenty to give!”. 

 She flew up higher and started to come down fast towards you. You readied your sword, prepared to end this but suddenly she stopped and started trembling. 

 “L-L-Lord Ares. I-”

 Before you could ask any questions and she could finish her sentence, you were being launched into the air. The scream you let out was embarrassing but it didn't matter in the end. You both collided and hit the wall and instead of being knocked out or injured like you thought you'd be, you were completely fine. Your sword went straight through her chest and pinned her to the wall behind her and you were hanging above the ground, grasping onto the hilt of your sword and hoping your hands wouldn’t start sweating. 

 “L-L-Lord Ares. I-”

 No. No way. It couldn’t be. But who else could’ve launched you in the air like that?

 You looked down and there he was. You don’t know why, but you expected him to look somewhat different. Maybe a new haircut or a new jacket. Maybe he’d try contacts, but no. He looked exactly the same. You didn’t know if you were comforted or unnerved by it.

 You wished you had something cool to say but all you said was “what are you doing here?”.

 “Saving your life”. Yeah right. You had everything 100% under control. He chuckled and you started to wonder if he could read your mind. When you screamed internally though, he didn’t flinch so that theory went out the window. Maybe you looked annoyed and didn’t know it. 

 “Are you gonna catch me?” You asked.

 “What for?”

 “Because you threw me all the way to the fifth floor and it’d be nice not to break something”

 “You need me to warm up milk up for you too?”.

 Fuck it. You’d risk the broken leg.

 You tightened your hands around the hilt and planted your feet on the wall then pushed off with all your might. Fortunately, you got the sword out the wall. Unfortunately, you were now falling from five floors up. 

 You braced for impact, but instead of falling and hitting the floor, you fell into someone’s arms. You looked up, thinking that maybe someone was with your father that you didn’t see before, but no. It was him. He caught you. Something you weren’t expecting but you weren’t against.

 You mumbled a thanks and stood on your feet. The year was 2006 when you last talked. It was early in 2008 and while that wasn’t that big of a gap, the talk you had last time made things more awkward. 

 “I thought you’re not allowed to interfere”

 He raised a brow at you as if saying “you care about rules now when you’ve been breaking them?”. Were you breaking them though? Sure you were encouraged to give offerings to your parent but you hadn’t been punished… yet. If it was so bad you wouldn’t be walking right now. And you doubted he paid enough attention to notice. He was probably relieved to have one less kid bothering him.

 Gods, you were a downer.

 “Are you gonna tell on me?” He asked.

 “If you hadn’t caught me”

 “And now?”

 “My lips are sealed”. You didn’t see his expression. You were too busy looking down at your shoes. A habit you hated you developed. It made you feel small. But you guessed demigods were supposed to be small in comparison to their parent. That’s why you showed them respect but they hardly returned the favor. 

 A moment of silence passed before he spoke up again.

 “You have money on you?”.

 Was he gonna rob you now? “Uh, yeah”.

 “You’re paying for dinner. Let’s go”

 He started walking away before you could even respond, and like a reflex you grabbed his arm to slow him down. “I can’t”.

 “Can’t?” He said so calmly it kinda scared you.

 “Yeah. I can’t. My uh…” you decided not to tell him the entire truth about staying with Percy and Sally. “My ride… mom. She’s coming to get me. You don’t want mom knowing you’re in town, right?”. 

 He looked you up and down and you tried your best to not seem nervous. You weren’t sure he believed you but he let it go for the night.

 You wished it stayed that way. That he’d just go back wherever he came from but instead he told you the name of a diner nearby and said to be there by noon tomorrow and that you were paying. 

 “Great. Thanks dad” you thought. “I always love our talks”.

~~

 The good thing about his random plan to go to a diner at noon was that you were allowed to clean yourself and sleep beforehand. The bad thing was that now you were sitting across from him and it was incredibly awkward. 

 Ares kept laughing at his phone and you debated on asking him what was so funny but he said “started a Twitter war about vaccination. It’s getting good”. You screamed in your head again, but once again he didn’t flinch. Maybe he just had a good poker face.

 “I’m happy for you?”. He glanced up at you and instead of going back to his phone, he set it face down on the table. You didn’t know if he seemed to glow because of the little war he started, or if a source of light was hitting him nicely. Maybe it was a god thing. 

 “You’re probably wondering why I’ve called you here”

 Was this an HR meeting? “I’m wondering why I’m paying”

 “Ask me”

 “You know I wanna know though so why am I asking?”

He didn’t respond. He just looked at you and you could hear his foot tapping on the floor.

 You rubbed your brow, already feeling a migraine coming on. You took a deep breath and let out a sarcastic response (which was not a good idea but your mouth worked faster than your brain). 

 “Ares, the amazing God of War. The Protector of Mistreated Women. Wearer of biker jackets. I come before you as your humble child, begging thee to tell me what required my summons and why you were at the mall last night. Please please please tell me. I’ll fall over and die if you don’t”.

 Sarcastic or not, he accepted it. He motioned towards the platter of burgers and fries, “this is your thank you. This is your offering to me since you haven’t been doing that”. 

 Well fuck. You didn’t think he’d notice. 

You leaned back in your seat and your fingers strummed against your knees and you had to remind yourself that running out probably wouldn’t end well.

 “You noticed?”

 “I did” he said simply. It reminded you of how emotionless he was the last time you talked. It reminded you of how frustrated you were that he talked as if nothing was wrong and as if your pain didn’t affect him. 

 “You demigods think you’re so smart. You have these big egos and think you’re ahead of us. You gave your offerings to Athena and Poseidon of all people ” he spat their names like it left a bitter taste in his mouth to mention them. 

 “And then you stay with that fish boy and his mom. Yeah. I saw that too. And I save your life and you don’t seem the least bit grateful”.

 Grateful.

 Something about that word you hated.

 Grateful? What was there to be grateful for? “Yeah dad, I’m super grateful my life consists of monsters trying to eat me and a dad I only see once in a blue moon. Totally grateful”.

 “We can’t interfere”

 “Didn’t stop you last night”

 He tsked, “I don’t get you. You complain about my absence then you complain when I’m here when I could be doing anything else!”. His voice rose but the people in the diner were either used to this or didn’t care enough to say anything.

 The nervousness and the fear rolled off you the more he spoke. Gratefulness? Doing anything else? You weren’t stopping him. 

 “Then go do those things. I’m not holding your hand and making you stay”. Your brain told you to shut up and apologize, but your mouth wasn’t having it. “And this isn’t about us and you know it. This is about you. This is about your ego being hurt. You don’t care about my safety. You didn’t go to the mall to protect me. You just love a fight and you were probably disappointed you couldn’t do more”

 “That’s what you think?” His eyes burned with something you couldn’t quite place. Anger obviously, but it seemed like something else was there. Or maybe there was literal fire in his eyes. Either way, it was clear he was upset and if you didn’t shut up soon, he’d probably turn you into a random animal.

 But who didn’t love animals?

 “That’s what I know. And I didn’t need your help. I was just fine. The only thing you would’ve missed if I somehow died was your little offerings. I don’t matter to you. Just admit it so we can move on”. Ares opened his mouth to say something, but you spoke again “and for your information Percy and Sally are very nice people. They feel more like family than you do”. 

 That shut up whatever he planned on saying. The last time you two talked you swore you saw an emotion cross his face. This time you were definitely sure you saw something cross his face before it went back to its default expression. 

 Was that regret? 

 No. That was stupid and you’ve had plenty of stupid thoughts. 

 It went silent. Weirdly, eerily silent. 

The diner wasn’t silent obviously but you two were.

You both were just staring at each other like statues. You wished you could read his mind. You hoped you would see thoughts of regret and sorrow and maybe hopefulness about your relationship going forward. You wished he had the same thoughts you had. Another stupid thought. Being hopeful didn’t work with him.

 For whatever reason, your mind wandered off to the late night talks you’d have with Sally and for whatever other reason, you started to speak.

 “Have you heard the song American Pie? Yes, it’s somewhat important to what I have to say. Yes or no only please”

 He looked bored and unamused but he answered anyway. “I don’t know. Maybe? Who cares?”.

 “There’s a line in the song that says this’ll be the day that I die. And for whatever reason it made me think about what I’d do if I were dying. If I woke up one day and I knew I was gonna die that day, what would I do? You wanna know what I realized?”

 He raised his brows for a second and leaned back in his chair. There was a possibility he was still bored but he seemed somewhat interested. “Shoot”.

 You smiled bitterly. Here he was so calm and fine and here you were, speaking slow and hoping your voice didn’t waver or crack. “I realized-” you failed. Your voice wobbled a bit and you cleared your throat a little too loud. “I realized I’d spend every second trying to make you love me”.

 You didn’t bother trying to read any expression he had next. You knew you’d always get it wrong and you’d imagine what you wanted to see. “And I uh… I don’t wanna be that way anymore”. You blinked rapidly, trying to prevent any tears from falling out. You didn’t have the rain to cover your face and blend in like you did last time. “And selfishly I hope that scares you”.

 “Gods don’t feel fear”

 “Well whatever you wanna call it I hope you feel it. I hope -and I’m gonna keep calling it fear- I hope you feel afraid for what that means for us”

 “Allow me to humor you for a bit” you felt as though the comment was supposed to be sarcastic but it didn’t sound sarcastic or aggressive. It was weirdly soft. “Why would you not wanting to spend your last day with me scare me?”

 “Because that means I won’t admire you anymore” you answered. “You don’t get it. You don’t get how much you mean to me. You don’t get how much I used to idolize you. Before I was claimed, I was already intrigued by you. Once I was claimed I read every single story that had to do with you. I was honored to be your child and tried to show you how honored I was everyday. I didn’t do all this for me. The training, bettering my Greek, learning everything I could about mythology. I didn’t do that for me. I did that so I would never shame your name and make you look like you raised incompetent idiots. The way I would defend your name and what you represent, you’d think I was being paid”

 “Me not admiring you anymore means I won’t care about defending you. It means I won’t care anymore about our family relationship. And I hope the idea of me calling you Ares instead of dad terrifies you. That emptiness or indifference I’ll feel when I hear your name… I know it hasn’t happened yet but thinking about it terrifies me too. Maybe I’m just selfish and don’t wanna be alone”. You used your sleeve to wipe at your wet face, a mix of embarrassment and relief for finally getting this out of you. “I could be right. I doubt it. I’m probably just making all that up but either way I need you to stop doing this. Seeing you at all, it gives me hope. I don’t want an enemy for life. I’m not Percy. But this is just gonna make this harder and if you hate me I am begging you to have mercy and leave me be. No visiting. I won’t come to see you when we do that little field trip either. I’ll stay at camp or I’ll go bother another god. Hermes is really nice. And if I break my end of the deal you can do whatever you want to me. Turn me into an ant, rearrange my fingers, throw me down a flight of stairs at full force, whatever”.

 There you went again making up shit. Swearing you saw something worse than sadness on his face; grief. That was impossible. Your eyes were just playing tricks on you like they always did. 

 You didn’t know what you wanted him to say, but you didn’t expect “you think, but you don’t know anything”.

 “Then tell me what I don’t know”. He didn’t say anything. He went silent and you were getting real tired of his silences. You sighed, “Sally’s been waiting outside so…”

 “Yeah…”. He let out a breath. Annoyance. Had to be. “You want this?” He asked.

 You were honest. “No” you said instantly. “No I don’t but this just seems like the best thing to do”. He didn’t argue with you. 

 Your hand went to reach inside your pocket for money but then he spoke again “keep it”.

 “It’s no problem-”.

 “Just keep it”.

 You nodded. 

 You stayed sitting down. Why was it so hard to stand? Why did your legs feel so wobbly and your throat so dry? Why did your chest feel like a huge weight was crushing it? Weren’t you supposed to feel the opposite? Free and lively? Feel like you could float?

 Another stupid thing escaped your lips. “Can you do me a favor?”.

 “Another one?” He asked lifelessly- no. He was not lifeless. He was happy. You were sure of it. You’d leave and he’d cheer because he wouldn’t have to deal with another kid anymore. You knew it.

 “It’s not a favor if you don’t wanna see me either”. Another bit of silence but you weren’t surprised. “Can we do that thing mortals do? You know, when they hug and say they love each other before they go their own way? Or maybe just the ‘I love you’ part”. He looked at you for a bit and you were about to apologize for making it weird and leave but Ares stood up. 

 You stood up.

 It’s strange how something you’ve never done before can feel so right. Like it was always meant to happen or always supposed to be this way. You weren’t necessarily cold and Ares wasn’t a heater, but the second he wrapped his arms around you and you did the same for him, you felt much warmer. Not a burden type of warmth. The kind of warmth that brings you relief on a freezing cold day. That crushing feeling stayed the same though.

 “I love you dad” you said and it fell out so naturally, you’d forgive anyone for thinking this was a normal occurrence. That the fight you had was just a small disagreement but otherwise you two had an amazing relationship.

 You didn’t know how the words “I love you too” would sound coming out of his mouth, but it sounded better than you hoped for. It once again sounded natural and genuine even if you knew it wasn’t. 

 You thought it wasn’t.

 No. You knew it wasn’t. This was no time for brain tricks and delusions. 

 Pulling apart was probably the hardest thing you had to do and your job was keeping Percy Jackson safe. That sudden coldness fell over you again and the crushing got worse.

 It didn’t get any better when you left. You didn’t have the guts to look at him one last time, afraid you’d call off your deal right then and there if you made eye contact with him. 

 Luckily Sally was an intelligent person. She was smart enough not to ask how it went. Even if she did, it’s not like you could answer with the huge lump in your throat. 

 “Do you want ice cream dear?”.

 You shrugged. There was that word again. Want. You didn’t know what you wanted anymore. You thought you did but it all felt wrong. There was no weight lifted off your shoulders and you didn’t feel light on your feet. You felt cold and hollow. The weight got worse and pushed down on you with so much force, you didn’t know it was even possible. 

 Then your eyes landed on his bike and it all came out. Your head fell into your hands and you let out sobs that were lodged deep in your chest. Your ears were ringing and you were sure you looked and sounded like the most pathetic person alive but you couldn’t care anymore. Sally, once again being an intelligent woman, took that as a sign it was time to go and pulled off. You assumed Sally would’ve dropped Percy off after you went inside. You assumed he wouldn’t wanna wait out here for you while you talked to one of the people that hated him the most. His hand patted your shoulder, notifying you that he was in the car still. Usually you’d make a joke and tell them that you were fine, but nothing came out but borderline hysterical sobs. 

 You grew jealous of Percy. He didn’t see Poseidon much but at least he knew deep down that Poseidon cared for him. Sometimes you’d get that feeling but you thought it was all a delusion. Fuck. Why did you keep doing that? You knew it was all a delusion. 

 That choice had to be the right one. It needed to be the right one.

 That didn’t stop this wave of agony from drowning you, and you’d fight a thousand harpies if it meant this feeling would go away.

Omg y’all I did it😭. I mixed two ideas someone suggested with my own ideas and here we are. I hope y’all like it even though a huge portion is me yapping but to be fair I didn’t realize until after I was done and summarizing all of that didn’t seem like it’d sound right, yk? There was definitely a way I could’ve done it but I’m stupid soooo… yeah. Anyway, OOC Ares but this is my angsty fantasy so I’m making him care about his kids. In my head the whole “I hate my own kids” is him trying to convince himself he doesn’t care for them so it’s easier to stay apart from them. Idk, maybe I’ll make a part 3 from his perspective and answer why he said he was saving their life. I make no promises tho. And I know I said it’s show Ares so skipping ahead doesn’t make sense but we know what’s gonna happen Taglist: @kyuupidwrites @chadmeeksmartinswifey @lebguardians @beansficreblogs (one asked to be tagged, one asked for more dad fics, then one commented plus reblogged and one reblogged, so although majority did not ask, imma just assume y’all would wanna see a part 2😀. We’re getting the band back together like this is Phineas and Ferb)

#percy jackson #percy series #percy jackson ares #pjo tv show #ares pjo #percy jackson angst #pjo angst #ares x reader #ares x child #ares angst #idk what else to tag #HEY YOU GUUUYYYSS #I yell like we’re on Electric Company

[psychedelic-ink]

Blocked By Snow ║ I

a/n: this series is directly inspired by @prolix-yuy 's absolutely gorgeous series something new I can't recommend this series enough 💕 thank you so much for allowing me once more to delve into this world. I appreciate you so much and so glad to have met you 💚

pairing: santiago "pope" garcia x fem!reader

genre: smut, romance, minors dni

word count: 5.8k

summary: With everyone out of town for the holidays, a lonely Santiago wanders the streets. His nightly walk leads him to your coffee shop.

warnings: sex worker!santi, a bit of insecure/shy reader, foodplay, piv, bdsm dynamics, messy oral (receiving), dirty talking

a/n: you don't necessarily have to read the first one shot to read this but it would make more sense if you did 💚

watercolor eyes'verse masterlist | A VERY PSYCHEDELIC WINTER '22

dividers by the lovely @firefly-graphics

Santiago never had enjoyed the cold. 

He hates the way cold pricks at his skin as he walks, a needle-like sensation that makes his body feel perpetually uncomfortable. The empty street echoes with the crunch of snow and every time he takes a step he slightly slips. Which keeps him in a purgatory of an almost falling feeling for the entire winter season. But of course that’s not all. He also sweats easily. He doesn’t have to do much. He could just be walking to the bus stop and he would break out in sweat. Which means that the inside of his coat is always sickly warm, his damp shirt clinging to his skin with his every move. He can’t take his coat off. Because sweat soaked skin combined with cold wind equals a runny nose and lungs full of germs. He just can’t win during these times. Everything’s a hassle. 

 However, he does enjoy the aesthetics of winter. 

Taking in a deep breath, Santiago takes in the sight of the empty streets. It’s late, but even if it wasn’t, it would still be deserted. The city resembles a dystopian wasteland with muddy snow and wet concrete, he loves it. A car passes by and the ground gleams with a yellow light. He takes another breath. There is no sun to force him to smile, to force him to be in a good mood. With weather like this, it was just mandatory to be somber and a little bit sad. He thinks better. He understands his emotions better. 

Santiago stops and pulls out a box of Marlboros. Frankie would’ve had his head if he’d seen, but thankfully —and maybe a bit unthankfully— his friend wasn’t in town. Him and Ms Jackson had gone away for the holiday season, wanting to spend it away from the city’s hustle and bustle. Still standing still, Santiago takes a deep huff of his cigarette and hisses out the smoke, watching it curl into the sky. Will and Benny were also away, beckoned to come back home by their mother. So that just left him. Alone to aimlessly wander the streets. 

He resumes his steps with nicotine filled lungs. Memories of you floods his mind, you were the last client he had for a while. No one really calls for him or the guys anymore, the calls are mostly for the girls, which he doesn’t mind but he just can’t stop thinking of you. Santiago was hopeful you would call again. But his hopes for it diminished after two weeks. Then he remembered you talking about your struggling shop and how it was getting harder and harder to make rent. 

So maybe that was why you hadn’t called. Or you just found someone else. The possibilities were endless, he could’ve also called, but just because it worked out fine for Frankie didn’t mean that it would work out for him. 

His teeth sink into the butt of the cigarette, half smoked now. Santiago still remembers how nervous you sounded when you first made the call. How nervous you were when he arrived. He doesn’t remember much about your home, he only remembers how you looked when you came on his tongue, fingers, and cock. 

Santiago takes another deep inhale of smoke. 

He still thinks of you sometimes, especially on nights where he’s bored or too lazy to hit the bars. Santiago often imagines his fist as your pretty pussy, fucking it until he’s oversensitive and whimpering from his own hand, cum drooling down his fingers—

A sudden shiver climbs up from the bottom of his spine and knocks the air right out of his lungs. The skin above his lower stomach tingles. Maybe he should head home, pour himself a glass of scotch and show himself  a good time. 

Then, with the corner of his eyes, he sees a bright neon light. He looks up and throws the half smoked cigarette to the ground, grinding it down with the tip of his shoe.  Cafe Watercolor the sign says, it’s bright and pink and doesn’t go with the cold winter aesthetic he had made for himself. Santiago peers inside with narrowed eyes. It looks cute enough, with lots of colorful and tasteful decor. He sees pastries gleaming behind glass and his lust is replaced with hunger. 

Santiago’s fingers hover an inch away from the glass door when he sees you; His eyes go wide, lips parting with a soft gasp. You’re struggling with the faucet. He watches you with unblinking eyes, you hit the tap a couple of times and soon water begins to pour from the nuzzle. Starting to wash your hands, you let out a breath of relief. 

Never one to back down from whatever life throws at him, he pushes the door and flinches as a soft chime announces his presence. 

Your face is priceless. 

You turn to him with a smile —presumably expecting a random customer — and your smile wavers with a subtle twitch of your lips. Your eyebrows go all the way to your hairline. Your gaze is somewhere between being astonished and fearful. At least, that’s what Santiago thinks he saw, but the emotion disappears just as quickly before he can pinpoint what it was.

“Santi,” you breathe out, the soft tone of your voice going straight to his cock. Between being hungry and cold, he was having the weirdest boner ever. 

“Hey there, sweetheart.” he grins and takes a step inside. “I saw you through the window and thought I should come in and say hi.” 

“Hi,” you let out a nervous laugh. “You…You really came here just to say hi?” 

He grins, “Well to be completely honest I saw the pastries first, then I saw you. So, if we’re going to be technical about it, no.” 

“Oh,” your eyes drop to the display of baked goods. You’re still smiling which calms Santiago’s worries that he might’ve been accidentally rude. “Which one did you have your eyes on? It’s on the house.” 

“Really? I mean I can pay– In fact I want to pay,” 

“No no it’s completely fine!” you dismiss him with the wave of a hand. “Tell me, which one did you want?” 

He finds the sparkles in your eyes endearing. Never in his life had Santiago thought that him picking out a desert would be the source of such glee. He walks closer to the display; he sees pies, cinnamon rolls, eclairs, donuts and much much more. It’s surprising how such a small place can produce such a variety of deserts. He points to the eclairs with a soft smile. 

“Would you want coffee too?” 

“Sure, but bring one for you too. I would love to catch up if you’re not busy?” 

“Free as a bird.” your lips crack in a bittersweet smile. “I’ll be right there.” 

Picking a table near the large windows, Santiago shrugs off his coat and drapes it behind the wooden chair. It takes you a while until you join him. He can hear muttered curses and pleas coming from behind the coffee machine. The urge to go and help bubbles inside of him, blood pooling underneath his nails as he forces himself to sit. He doesn’t want you to think that he’s trying to undermine you, especially not in your own cafe. 

Instead, he takes this opportunity to examine his surroundings. It really is a nice place. The wall behind the counter consists of black marble that reaches all the way to the ceiling, a soft yellow light is attached to it, giving the whole cafe an eternal autumn feeling. The rest of the walls are a soft shade of beige. Santiago noticed wooden frames attached to the wall, painted over the same color to give it a more rustic feel. He wonders if you did all of this on your own or if you had help. He hopes that you did. Artwork of every kind was also scattered across the walls.    

After further inspection he realizes that he’s actually been here before —well not been, but more walked past— Your apartment must be close because he recognizes the crooked street sign. It starts to snow outside. His eyes flicker from one snowflake to another, watching them like a cat. 

“Here we go!” you say triumphantly as you place an eclair and a steaming hot mug in front of him. Sitting down, you take another mug off the tray and place the tray on top of the table next to you. “Sorry that took me a while, the coffee machine has been giving me trouble lately,” 

“It’s fine,” his eyes drop down to the mug, staring at it as if the dark liquid might have poison in it. 

“Is everything alright?” 

He doesn’t want to trouble you, “Sorry, yeah it’s just…uh–” 

“Come on, you can tell me.” 

“Can I have milk?” 

You stare at him a brief second before bursting out laughing. His cheeks warm up. Santiago clutches the mug, looking offensively at his reflection in the black coffee. Noticing his withdrawal, you place a hand on his wrist and give it a soft squeeze. Your gaze softens, your laughter only leaving a ghost-like smile on your lips. 

“Sorry sorry. I just didn’t think you would want milk in your coffee, in fact I had an eternal debate going on while I was making it. I thought to myself ‘should I ask him if he wants milk?’ then the other voice in my head said ‘No no he’s too cool for that.’” 

Santiago raises his gaze, an amused smile tugging at the corner of his lips, he cocks an eyebrow. 

“First of all, how can someone be too cool for milk?”  he shakes his head, his lips parting with a chuckle. “And second of all how on earth did you come to the conclusion that I was cool?” 

“Well, I think you’re cool.” You shrug, such a simple action, yet he’s entranced by the simplicity of it and your words. You actually believed in what you had said. “As for your first question, I don’t know. I feel like everyone has an issue with milk these days. I have, like, a million different types of milk. I miss it when it was just soy, almond and lactose free. Those were simpler times.” 

“Don’t worry whole milk is just fine with me,” 

You switch his mug with yours and his brows furrow with confusion. 

“I already put milk in mine and haven’t had a sip yet so you can have it instead.” 

“Are you sure? Don’t you want milk in yours?” 

“I’m fine with it, don’t worry.” you take a sip to demonstrate, but he can see the twitch of your eyes as the bitter liquid hits your tongue. “See. I love it. Anyway, how have you been?” 

Santiago allows you to live in bliss thinking that you fooled him. 

“I’ve been doing good, work is pretty much the same nothing new,”

“I’m glad.” 

Santiago hates the way you suddenly recoil, both emotionally and physically. You lean back into your chair, as if you’re trying to escape him, and warm your palms against the porcelain surface of the mug. He’s not sure what to make of this. Is this just a normal awkward pause or are you suddenly bothered about what he does for a living? He’s hoping the latter isn’t the case but anxiety rolls in his stomach anyway. 

“What about you? How’s the cafe running business going?” 

It’s a sad smile that you’re giving him. You trace the rim of the mug with your thumb, your gaze watching the snow. You begin to explain to him what’s been going on; the faucets are messed up but you don’t have the money to fix them, the coffee machine is on its last breath and the bills keep piling up— Santiago nods along, adding his two scents where it’s needed and finally bites into his eclair. 

He moans. “Holy shit—”

“What’s wrong?” 

Your voice is panicked and he would feel bad if the fucking eclair hadn’t tasted so good. The pastry melts in his mouth. The chocolate gave him a buzz of pleasure no desert ever had before. He lets out another muffled moan, his eyes falling shut without realizing. 

“Sorry,” he chokes out, swallowing. “This just tastes really good. Did you make this?” 

“I did, yeah,” then you quickly add. “You really like it?” 

“Of course I do. It’s the best thing I’ve ever put in my mouth,” a mischievous smile curls at the corner of his lips, he moves his eyes across your slowly and licks the chocolate off his lips. “Well, maybe not the best thing.” 

You stare at him with blown wide pupils. Your mouth falls open and your fingers twitch around the mug. Santiago is ninety nine percent sure that if he looks under the table this very second your thighs would be rubbing against each other like two sticks trying to ignite a fire. Knowing this only makes his smile wider. There’s nothing he enjoys more than making an overworked woman fluster. However, teasing you is even more fun. You’re so expressive —something that he noticed the first time he came over— and he thrives in it.  

Santiago’s mind buzzes with a forming idea. With an unwavering smile, he turns the half bitten eclair towards you. Your eyes move between his face and the pastry, your confusion makes his cock twitch. 

“If you don’t believe me,” he says slowly, squeezing the side of the eclair so that more cream comes out. “Have a bite and see for yourself,” 

Santiago is convinced that he can hear your heartbeat. Raising his eyebrows, he inches the desert closer. Your lips open up for him. His world falls into slow motion. He sees the pink of your tongue and your taste hangs heavy on his tongue, you refuse to break eye contact as you bite into the fluffy pastry. Cream stains the corner of your lips, pulling away, you lick the sweet remains away. 

Now it was Santiago’s turn to become flustered. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, the length of his cock catches against the rough surface of his zipper, his throat rattles with a choked moan. You think you’re sly with the way you smirk at him, but he’s never one to shy away, and seeing that you failed to properly lick the chocolate away, he swipes it away with the pad of his thumb then licks it clean. 

He convinces himself that he stepped out of line, as harmless as his flirting might be, he isn’t sure how you feel about it. 

What he doesn’t expect is for you to invite him upstairs to your apartment. 

He’s even more surprised when he realizes he’s actually been hoping for the invite.

Your apartment is the same as he remembers, the only exception being the Christmas decorations. 

With a shy smile tugging at your lips, Santiago allows you to guide him into the depths of your apartment. You’re definitely a lot more outgoing compared to when he first met you. He likes the change. 

He wonders if you’ve been with anyone else after him. Have you delved deeper into the BDSM pithole? Have you experimented more? 

The thought makes his head spin. 

“Would you like anything?” you ask politely. 

“Do you have any more of that cream filling?” 

“What?” 

He swallows down when a bubble of laughter surfaces. The look you’re giving him is priceless; Your eyes wide, eyebrows raised, and breathing uneven. It’s truly a sight to see. 

“I just wanted to try something out, if it’s alright with you,” 

“Yeah… yeah!” you rummage through the fridge. “I think I might have some leftovers,” And alas you pull away from the fridge with a nearly full piping bag. “Will this be enough?” 

“That’s plenty.” 

He stalks towards you similar to a predator nearing its prey, he slowly takes the piping bag from your hand, purposefully brushing his fingers over your knuckles. There’s a silent command in his eyes, and without voicing it out, he moves his lips; Open up. 

And, fuck, you actually do open your mouth. 

The pink of your tongue moves past your lips, Santiago’s eyes go wide, a smug smile etched into his face. He lifts the piping bag up and squeezes a dollop onto the flat of your tongue. Normally, if it was anyone else, they would’ve closed their lips and tasted the sweetness of the cream. But not you. You know better. You’ve been learning ever since that fateful night. You won’t do anything without his say so, and to have that control —that trust— it does something to him. Suddenly he wants to stop the game and ravish you right here in the kitchen. He wants to make a mark of himself. A mark that would linger even when he’s gone. 

But instead a growl rattles his chest, he leans forward and flattens his tongue against yours, tasting the cream. The moan you let out urges him to lick you clean, he sucks the tender muscles into his mouth. It marks the start of the most deprived kiss of his entire life. He inhales the air from your lungs, whenever you peel away from him, gasping for air, he squeezes more cream between your lips. You taste so sweet, so shamelessly you. 

His one hand grips your waist, forcing you to grind against him as he devours your mouth in a literal sense. Your moans bleed into one another, neither of you knowing from whom the lewd sounds are coming from. His hand slides up from your waist and settles on your breast, he squeezes hard. A whimper joins the sinful symphony. 

Your body trembles, your nostrils flare. He can’t help it as he squeezes a bit more cream into your mouth, the quick action serving as a moment for you to breathe. He closes the distance immediately after, some part of his brain —the one that still holds some awareness— reminds him of the time Will got really into Greek Mythology. Santiago always listened to him with half an ear, but a word echoes in his mind as he dives in for another kiss and another.

Ambrosia. The food of the Gods. 

That’s what you are. So sweet and tender and addicting.     

Santiago might’ve suffocated you if he hadn’t stopped, and deep down he knows that you’d allow him to.  

It’s more of a shove instead of a gentle push back. Both of them pant heavily, their chest rising and falling with strained breaths. He notices the piping bag is still half full, it’s a surprise really, he feels that he’s been piping cream into your mouth for hours. 

It’s you who breaks the silence. 

“That was…wow,” 

“You’re quite articulate, aren’t you?” he grins, licking his lips. Then his smile thins, a look of worry crossing his face. “Do you…want to do this? I definitely want to but I need to hear you say it. I don’t want you thinking I ambushed you.” 

“Oh I definitely want this,” your smile soothes him. “I actually wasn’t sure if you wanted to.” 

“Why wouldn’t I–” he clams his mouth shut, not really eager to dive into something that might make you uncomfortable (but he does take a mental note to address it later), he points at the both of you, poor finger frantically moving between bodies. “So we both want this then?” 

You nod but there’s something in your expression he quite doesn’t get. “What is it?” 

“It’s just…oh god, this is so awkward to ask but this— This isn’t— I’m a bit tight right now, as you probably guessed, and I can’t really—” frustrated, your hands suddenly shoot up into the air. “I’m such an idiot, sorry if I misread anything. I’m really shit at human interaction nowadays.” 

It takes him a moment to understand what you’re trying to ask him, the lingering taste of cream sours on his tongue as he’s not sure what to make of it. 

“Don’t worry, it’s completely free of charge.” he says, voice stale. Relief washes over you, which makes him realize that maybe you were just being insecure. A twinge of guilt flares in his heart. “I do like you, you know. It’s my fault if I hadn’t made that clear enough,” 

“No no, it’s just me being completely insecure. You were clear it’s just, I needed to ask or the thought would eat at me all night. It’s just…you’re really pretty,” 

Santiago snorts, his hand coming up to cover his mouth immediately. “I’m flattered, querida, but what does me being pretty have to do with me not wanting to be with you?”

When you struggle to find the words, he closes the distance and grabs your hand. You gasp as he presses your open palm against the outline of his erection. His mouth finds the crook of your neck, kissing the skin tenderly, he guides your hand up and down his length. His chest heaves. 

“Is this proof enough that this pretty man wants to be with you?” he murmurs, the breath accompanying his words wetting your skin. “If you need more proof I think we need to head to the bedroom.” 

“I definitely need more convincing,” you answer with a smile, a bit of playful nature hidden beneath your words. 

“Lead the way,” he says with a grin. 

However, before you move Santiago notices your eyes linger on the still half full piping bag. Your eyebrow raises with curiosity. Taking a step closer, Santiago wraps his arm around your waist and urges you to move, his lips touch your ear. Warm and soft. 

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’m not done decorating you yet.” 

Only ten minutes in and you’re already a sticky, whimpering mess. 

The empty piping bag is casted aside to the floor. He had kept his promise and decorated you. He’s encircled your pebbled nipples with cream, squeezed trails down your stomach and drew lines across your folds. You were a delight and he was going to savor every last bit of it. 

He starts from your nipples that seem like cherries with heaping amounts of cream. Santiago rewards himself with a taste, tongue moving in languid circles, he refuses to touch you where you really want him to. You grow needy, impatient. Your back arches with hope. Cream accidentally stains the corners of his lips but he doesn’t mind. He nips at the swell of your breast and looks up to you between heavy eyelashes. 

“Behave,” he murmurs, mouth full. 

“B-But…Santi, please. I need you so bad that it hurts,” 

He hums. He hides his amused smile by licking the cream off of your other breast. You let out a soft whimper and your fingers twitch against the sheets. You’re so responsive to him. He has been with his fair share of women, but none of them behaved the way that you did. You acted as if you would die without his touch, without his mouth and sinful tongue. It drives him mad, which leads him to drag his open palms up and down your thighs, goosebumps rise across your skin. 

“Tell me how much,” he purrs, the slow drag of his tongue making you moan. “I want to know exactly how you’re feeling and maybe then…” he inhales. One hand moves towards your sex, fingers ghosting over your folds. “I’ll fuck this pretty pussy until you’re stupid,” 

“I feel like I already am,” you confess with a weak smile, the words go straight to Santiago’s cock, a bead of precum dripping to the bed. “When you tease me, it feels as if a thousand needles are pricking into my skin. Ever since our first meeting I can’t stop thinking of you Santi. I think of your lips, your scent, your—” 

You cut yourself at the very last second, looking away with slight embarrassment. Santiago looks down, kisses your nipple and allows his tongue to circle it.

You sigh his name out like it’s a breath of something warm and sweet. 

“My cock?” he finishes for you. “Go on.” 

When you say nothing he stops, he purposefully exhales a warm breath against your wet skin. Your jaw goes slack, eyes fluttering, your hips spread for him without further prompt. The next breath you take is shaky but you manage to speak, voice laced with undeniable want. 

“I did some research, you know…about BDSM. And—” you swallow. “And I always think of how it would feel if it was you doing those things to me. Tying me up, whispering filth in my ear, using me however you please…” 

With minimal movement he ruts against the bed, the grind of his hips slow, the soft surface of the blankets providing excellent friction. He whimpers into your skin. 

“Have you tried any of it…with anyone?” he really didn’t want to ask but he needs to know, he’s not sure why though. A weak laughter drops from your lips, his gaze meets yours. 

“I chickened out,” you sigh. He feels your nails at your nape and it forces a shudder up your spine. “I got scared.” 

“Scared of what?” 

“Of being that vulnerable in front of someone, I didn’t want to accidentally get hurt or…say something to the wrong person,” 

The memory of the first night the two of you shared lights within his head; You’d said that you loved him. He didn’t think much of it to be honest, a lot of women said a lot of things when with him. He would never hold something like that above someone’s head, or make a big deal about it. But he also understands why you must’ve hesitated. 

Santiago has a million things he wants to say to soothe you. The words overwhelm him, dance and roll into a snowball on his tongue. Saliva fills his mouth, he rolls his tongue against your tit before answering. His tongue loosens at the feel of your skin. 

“What about me? Are you scared of being with me?” 

“No.” you chuckle at the look of surprise he gives you, you cover your face with the back of your hand. “This might sound stupid but for some reason I fully tursted you ever since the first time I heard your voice.” 

“That good, huh?” 

Santiago hides his smile by kissing —and licking— a slow trail down from the swell of your stomach to your left thigh. Your skin glistens at where there used to be cream. He kisses your folds nice and slow, tongue dipping in between, his eyes nearly roll back when he tastes you. The sweetness of the cream elevates the taste, he cleans you up and delves deeper, the tip of his tongue circles around your entrance. He feels your nails on his scalp. Your thighs shake when he moves up to your clit, closing his lips around the sensitive nub, he sucks and licks. His name falls from your lips again and again, moans and mewls becoming louder and louder. 

“Want you to come in my mouth,” he groans. “You think you can do that for me?” 

When nothing but a whimper leaves you, he digs his nails into your skin as a warning. 

“I–I want to. I can, please don’t stop—” 

“That’s my girl.” 

The way you shudder doesn’t go unnoticed by him. He pulls you against his face closer, a soft yelp tearing from your throat when he does. He throws your thighs over his shoulders and eats you out like a man starved. His cock throbs, begging for attention and friction, a wet patch steadily growing on the sheets. Slick drips out of you like nectar from a fruit, he groans into you, the reverberation making you twist and turn. Your body trembles under his palms, he knows your orgasm is within reach. 

Sucking on your clit, he lifts his gaze. Your eyes are squeezed shut, lips parted; Santiago truly believes that every person looks good when receiving pleasure —how could it not with the way stress dissolves from your body— But you, you look extraordinary. 

“Come on baby, give it to me. I want you flooding my mouth,” 

“Fuck— fuckfuckfuck— Santi—” a sharp gasp tears through the air, your hands frantically search anywhere they can cling on. Your body twitches and you finally give him what he wants. 

The taste overwhelmed him, his tongue moving along your slit over and over as you gush into his mouth. He swallows eagerly, drops of it drip down the corner of his lips but that doesn’t stop him. Santiago doesn’t stop until you’re whimpering for him to, your hands weakly tugging at his hair. 

“That was gorgeous,” he says, voice dripping with uncontrollable lust. Before speaking again he places a tender kiss on your pelvis. “Now do you want that cock you’ve been missing so much?” 

“You’re such a tease you know that, Santiago?” 

“So I have been told.” 

Santiago moves up your body, bringing your legs with him. He leans in as if he’s going to kiss you, a Cheshire cat-like grin spreading across his face. 

“Do you want to taste yourself on my tongue?” 

“God. Yes, please,” 

He licks the seam of your lips before pushing his tongue into your mouth. You groan at the taste of yourself and he swallows every bit of noise you make. He presses the head of his cock  inside, filling you up inch by inch. Your pussy hugs him so tight, it’s nearly suffocating. Santiago makes a choked out sound, his lips falling away from yours, he finds himself mouthing at the curve of your neck. He can feel how wet you are for him, your slick coating his cock. He hears the wet squelch as he buries himself into your warmth inch by inch.

Slowly, Santiago pulls back, his fingers curving around the back of your knees. Black dots dance across his vision. 

“Fuck, you feel so good. You’re squeezing me so tight,” he swallows, his voice dropping. “Tell me how it feels,” 

“So good,” you say, a choked out moan following. “So good. Please move.” 

Deciding that he’d teased you enough for one night, Santiago moves. His own chase of pleasure is prominent in his movements; Frantic, fast, rough. Your head falls back, eyes squeezed tight, you brace your hands against the headboard. 

“Yes…Santi—Yes, yes,” 

His gaze drops down to witness the mess. You have him completely soaked, a sheer ring circling the base of his cock, he pounds into you again and again. Pleasure rakes across his skin, his stomach drawing tight. 

“Thank you—” your voice is broken, shattered. He looks up, a slight worry to his gaze. Then you utter the words again. “Thank you, thank you, thank you—” 

His balls throb and he nearly comes while inside. Shit shit shit. He quickly pulls out, the drag of his cock heavy between your folds, your eyes roll back, a whisper of his name sinfully falling from your lips.

“Why’d you stop?” you slur, hands searching for his skin. You let out a pleased hum when you managed to grip at his shoulders. “Did you come?” 

He chuckles, “Not yet but nearly did.” his thumb strokes the inside of your knee. “Can you come for me again, pretty girl? Want to feel it.” 

You breathe out a yes and he steadily slides back into you. It’s more difficult than he thought, you’re so warm and tight and wet. He was stupid for him to think that he would last. Without a word he lets go of your legs. He guides you so that you’ll stand on your hands and knees, his one hand moves between your legs as the other slowly slides up your back and rests on your shoulder. As he resumes his thrusts, he leans over you, his lips tracing shapes across your damp skin. He draws quick, short circles around your clit, you writhe underneath him, moaning and begging for release. It makes him dizzy. 

It doesn’t take you long after that. The tell tale signs of your nearing orgasm as clear as day. Your body locks up, thighs staggering uncontrollably as he fills you again and again. Your breathing is frantic, your chest heaving as your orgasm shatters through you, wetting his cock and thighs. Santiago is quick to pull out, his mind hazy with lust, he strokes himself over your ass. He comes with a groan, hot ropes of cum stains your skin. You call out to him when you feel it, thanking him again and again. His cock twitches. Honestly, if you didn’t look so worn out he might’ve gone for round two. 

But for now, he’ll stop. For your sake. 

And maybe a bit for his knees sake.

“I’ll be right back with something to clean us with,” he says, giving your ass a soft smack. “Don’t go anywhere,” 

“Does it look like I can move?” you answer with a lazy smile. You flop to your back and stretch. “Everything you need should be in the bathroom.” 

The Christmas lights that burn bright in the living room bathes the wall in a soft color. A rainbow illuminating the darkness. Santiago thinks of himself as lucky because there was no way he could’ve found his way to the bedroom, especially since his eye sight wasn’t what it used to be. Hints of cinnamon lingers in the air, he can also vaguely smell chocolate but he could have been imagining it. 

Santiago smiles when he finally spots the door of the bathroom. For the first time in a while he feels content, happy. The rain clouds above his head finally start to clear up a bit. 

Lost in thought, Santiago doesn’t see the small stand right next to the door. Shit! Fuck—Fuck! Pain spreads from his foot to his leg. His mouth clamps shut as he tries to keep the noise he makes to a minimum, his skin burning with the need to scream. He inhales deep, fast breaths, nostrils flaring everytime he fills his lungs. 

When the pain finally starts to subside a bit, he leans against the stand. His fingers twitch, the sound of paper crumpling reaches his ears. Raising an eyebrow, his gaze drops to the stand. He can barely see with the light now  shifting from red to blue, he waits for the yellow ones to come back and as it does, his breath gets stuck in his throat. 

“What the hell?” he whispers, eyes going wide. 

He spots at least five overdue notices, bills and notes for other made expenses. It doesn’t look like you can even last a month. 

The lights turn back to blue. 

His lips now a tight line, Santiago heads to the bathroom and picks up everything he needs to clean you up. He isn’t a fan of sticking his nose into other people’s business, but he can’t stand the idea of your dreams shattering like this. Especially not when you were so enthusiastic about every little thing you made.

He’ll have to make some calls tomorrow. 

Thank you all for reading! I'll probably post part two in either the end of december or january.

For some reason writing this was super duper hard??? Whenever I thought that I would finish it, I just didn't?? I've been struggling with this for a week, maybe even two, and I have no idea why. Actually, no, I think it had something to do with writing all of it from Santi's POV. Especially the smut since I'm so used to writing reader's pov but yeah, it was a challenge. However, I'm happy that I did it! Now that I know this weakness I can zero in on it sdcsdcs Thankfully, part 2 will be reader's pov so I can relax a bit

Anyways, hope you guys enjoyed it! I appreciate each and one of you, thank you for sticking around 💚

#santiago garcia x reader #santiago pope garcia #santiago garcia #santiago garcia x f!reader #santiago garcia x you #santi x reader #triple frontier fic #triple frontier reader #oscar isaac characters #oscar isaac character fanfiction #sw!santi #sw!santiago au

[giveamadeuschohisownmovie]

“Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny” review:

Short review

“Uncharted 4” hit the same story beats, but better. I’ll give the movie a 6/10.

Long review

As the final chapter in Indiana Jones’ life, I have mixed thoughts. Is it because of the time travel? No, I was actually fine with that. Indiana Jones has always had some element of weirdness, ranging from the supernatural to literal aliens. My issue with this movie is that, as the final chapter in the series, it felt…underwhelming.

It’s strange because the movie was sorta hitting all the points it needed to hit. They had the emphasis on Indy being old, the passing of the torch to Wombat, the return of other classic characters like Sallah and Marion, bringing the Nazis back as the villains, and so on. James Mangold was hitting the points he needed to hit, which makes sense since this is the guy who gave us “Logan”.

But the problem is, Indiana Jones isn’t Wolverine. I think Indiana Jones, as a character, is unsuitable for the type of somber, deep character study that the movie was trying to do. This is a character who was made to represent light-hearted escapism, and you could see that by how the first three movies never went too deep or too serious with Indy. Even “Crystal Skull”, with all its flaws, didn’t do that. So now we have “Dial of Destiny” trying to shift gears into darker, more dramatic territory and it just doesn’t hit.

For example, the reveal that Mutt Williams got killed in the Vietnam War. It’s a reveal that’s too dark and sudden to really leave a lasting impact, especially since the next scene afterwards is a thrilling dive to a shipwreck. You just want the movie to slow down and let these moments sink in. But the problem is, if the movie slows down, it stops being a fun Indiana Jones movie.

So, we got a problem here. Was there ever a way that the writers could’ve solved this clash of conflicting tones?

Now I will say, I think there’s a version of this story that COULD HAVE worked. Like I wrote, James Mangold was hitting all the story beats he needed to hit. It’s just that the story needed:

Yup. I’m gonna say this with full sincerity; “Dial of Destiny” would’ve worked if it was centered on Indiana Jones and Marion Ravenwood going on one last adventure. You can keep Mutt Williams dying, because that would mean the story would be about Indy and Marion reconciling with each other. Going back to my short review, the more I thought about it, the more that “Dial of Destiny” felt like James Mangold’s attempt at making an “Uncharted 4” movie.

Just like “Dial”, the fourth “Uncharted” game centered on an aging Nathan Drake getting pulled out of retirement for one last adventure. That game managed to actually be BOTH somber and lighthearted. You’d have scenes where Nathan is riding around a motorcycle and spewing one-liners, followed up by Nathan having a deep conversation with Elena.

But here’s why I feel “Uncharted 4” worked while “Dial” didn’t. Naughty Dog knew that in order to bring Nathan’s story to a proper close, they needed to center it on the main cast. In fact, one of the best sequences in the entire game is literally just Nathan and Elena driving around the jungle talking about their lives.

“Dial” doesn’t work because the story is centered on Indy, his goddaughter who we’ve never seen before (and whose father is a new character), and this random kid who was pretty much Short Round 2.0. And it’s frustrating because the BIGGEST dramatic reveal of the movie was Indy talking about his dead son and his divorce. Sorry to Phoebe Waller-Bridge but that scene should’ve had Marion as the focus. In fact, it gets even more frustrating since Mutt’s death means little to Wombat as a character. She didn’t know the guy, the most she could’ve felt in that scene was, “Sorry for your loss, goddad”.

Even the presence of Wombat and Teddy are frustrating. Wombat could’ve easily been rewritten as Marcus Brody’s daughter (or if you wanna be spicy, she was Willie Scott’s daughter with Indy, making her Mutt Williams’ half-sister). Teddy could’ve been Sallah’s son. These may seem like small changes, but at least there’d be a stronger connection to the past. Since it’s Indiana Jones’ last journey, this movie should’ve been more rooted in Indy’s past adventures, even if the connections are more with legacy characters.

So, yeah, it’s a mixed bag. “Dial” is a movie that is supposed to be closing the door on Indiana Jones as a character, but doesn’t really accomplish that due to its detachment from the past movies. It’s a movie that’s too somber to be a lighthearted adventure, but too lighthearted to be a somber character study. And what does that mean for the end result? A movie that’s just okay, but doesn’t really justify its existence. Could’ve been worse, but you wish it was better.

#dial of destiny #indiana jones #indiana jones and the dial of destiny #james mangold #harrison ford #phoebe waller bridge #marion ravenwood #mutt williams #sallah #short round #Indiana Jones 5 #indy film #disney #lucasfilm #movie review #film review #helena shaw #mads mikkelsen #uncharted #uncharted a thief's end

[moobloom-mention]

This Isn't a Goodbye (But I Wish It Had Been)

Part 1 || Part 2

Summary: When Wukong approaches Macaque clearly anxious over something, Macaque half expects to be told that he'd accidentally set fire to an orchard again.

But to Macaque's dismay and greatest fear, it's much, much worse.

Content Warning(s): Fear of death. Angst. So much angst.

Word Count: 1791

----------

Macaque had never thought himself to be good at goodbyes. 

Even the mere word was regarded with discomfort, like a flea crawling about his pelt that he prays will be plucked away during his next grooming session. He'd never truly found a reason for why he disliked them in the first place, nor for why he felt just as compelled toward them at the same time. 

After all, good stories all tended to have their respective "goodbye" scenes. A moment in which the protagonist would manipulate a single word into a poem if only to yank mercilessly at the heartstrings of whatever unlucky viewer was watching. It was a captivating occurrence, both to watch and act out if Macaque had anything to say about it. 

He would never forget the satisfied hum within his mind whenever he gazed into his audience amidst such moments of sorrowful poetry to find tears gathered within hundreds of softened eyes. 

And how could he forget the contentment that lied within the sense of closure that goodbyes could offer? That gentle sense of finality not unlike the endings to his shadow plays. Endings that would tell that the story was finally done. Finished. 

Complete.  

Macaque can't help but wonder if his uncertainty behind goodbyes lies more in his unfamiliarity with it. Of course he'd written hundreds of scenes; offered gentle whispers of "off you go" to infants whose mothers had grown irritated in their absence. 

But those words were always nothing but gentle farewells. Promises of reunion whenever convenience prevailed again. 

Macaque only prayed that today would promise the same gentle reunion. That today would be a farewell that wasn’t a permanent promise that he'd never see his best friend again. 

That Flower Fruit Mountain would once again greet its king. 

He would’ve thought the day would appear more somber, or at least full of tears and banter because that’s all Macaque had seemed capable of stomaching for the past months. 

Maybe the island and himself had finally run out of tears; left with nothing but excitement and hope for the future. 

At least, excitement on Wukong’s end. 

Macaque would be lying if he said the lack of crying didn’t amplify his bouts of anxiety and fear. He should’ve shut down Wukong’s plan the moment he heard of it, taken it between his claws and crushed it like some bothersome tick. 

Maybe then this whole mess would've been avoided. 

"So, there's this...guy." 

But of course Macaque's interest had been piqued, even if his stomach twisted at such an implication. Gossip had always been something he'd taken to like water off a duck's back- it certainly hadn’t helped that his six ears made it a little too easy to eavesdrop -and he'd supposed that he should've expected talk to arise with spring just having been on the horizon. 

It was just that Wukong had always spoken about taking on a partner with denial. He'd puff out his chest and declare himself far too kingly to worry about such things as "marriage" and "courting". 

"Oh?" Macaque grinned, as if his eyes hadn't instinctively searched for an exit from the conversation. "Always knew this day would come." 

Wukong only shifted his feet, eyes downcast. "Y-You did?" 

"Of course, Peaches. With spring comin' up and all that, you should know your neighborhood gossip would be happy to hear about all this." 

Wukong's chest deflated, and his tail turned from an anxious twitch to a joyous wag. "Man is that is a relief. You have absolutely zero idea how much this has been eating at me." 

"Yeah...thought at least something was up," Macaque laughed. "The island's practically void of peaches." 

Wukong's burning face was enough to convince Macaque that he'd been correct in his assumptions. Trust the king himself to drown his concerns in food. 

"So, you've finally found..." Macaque shimmied his shoulders. What can he say? He'd always been one for dramatics. "...the one?" 

"The one-?" 

And for a moment, Macaque's world froze, trapped in a stare with Wukong's opened mouth and wrinkled nose. Disgust was an uncommon expression for the king, but one Macaque thoroughly indulged himself in. 

It wasn't until Wukong batted at his ears that he returned to reality, just in time to hear screeches of "Macaque, no! This is- okay, that's not it." 

But Wukong still fiddled nervously, his hands interlocked.  

"I want to leave." 

“What?” 

Macaque hadn’t been all too off about Wukong’s concerns being over a guy. He just...hadn’t expected the conversation to turn toward abandoning the island to seek the teachings from a priest. 

Oh, sorry. A patriarch. A patriarch known as Master Subodhi. 

One that could offer- 

“Immortality!” Wukong had squealed, his excitement not unlike how many of the mothers on the island gushed over their king. “Just think of it, Mac! I’d be king forever!” 

“Forever,” Macaque echoed. The idea was lovely news if he was being honest; Sun Wukong, Eternal King of Flower Fruit Mountain. 

“I bet I could teach everyone here immortality too.” 

Now that had been an interesting idea. Macaque had never concerned himself too much with immortality; life on Flower Fruit Mountain surrounded by the little ones and his king was...enough, even with a clock ticking toward his death. 

But to be immortal? Would it be worth the possibility of never seeing Wukong again, swept away by the ocean and drowned?  

It’d taken months following the conversation for Macaque to grow somewhat comfortable with the concept. He’d sung silent affirmations that Wukong would be fine. That it wasn’t Macaque’s responsibility to stop his king from achieving his dreams. 

Still, his mindless murmurs don’t stop the dread of today’s goodbye. Wukong wants to leave. Macaque has to be supportive. 

Macaque swallows harshly, eyes brought back to the North beach of Flower Fruit Mountain. Little ones crowd the surrounding trees, unrest amidst the air. He can’t blame their anxiety; after all, he isn’t faring too well himself. 

Wukong stands not far from Macaque, kindness in his gaze as he nods for the other’s attention. 

Distantly, a newly constructed wooden boat sways. 

“Ask me to stay?” 

Macaque blinks, caught unaware by the gentle request that’d been uttered. He can only imagine the stark contrast between his confused expression and the tears that drip down his red butterfly mask. 

“What?” 

Wukong’s hands slip comfortably within Macaque’s own. They still fit, and Macaque might go as far to say they fit better than from when they were kids. 

“Ask me to stay and I will. I’ll drop everything. Just ask me to stay.” 

“But-” 

His throat bobs harshly. He doesn’t even know where to begin. 

Your dreams? Your ambitions? You've wanted this for so long-  

Instead he offers something much lamer. 

"-the boat?" 

Macaque treasures the wet laugh he receives over what he’d chosen to argue about. Of course his worries float toward the possible waste of a boat should Wukong stick around. As if they wouldn’t allow the little ones to use it whenever they pleased. 

As if the boat’s construction was already justified just by the countless hours it let Macaque spend around Wukong. 

"I'm being serious," Wukong grins. His eyes are just as wet as Macaque's and yet he still manages to look joyous. Like it's the easiest thing in the world. "If you think this is a bad idea, I'll stay." 

Macaque forces his tongue to still, certain that given this chance his throat will spill pleads for Wukong to stay. He isn’t above sinking to the ground and screaming his fears of what may happen in the other’s absence. 

Demons could attack the island. 

Macaque could die of missing him so much. 

For once, Flower Fruit Mountain wouldn’t have a king. 

But Wukong’s eyes are so wide; wet and strong like the ocean he’ll set out on if Macaque so desires. Even now curiosity lurks beneath the heavy display of emotion, a yearning that Macaque can’t help but adore. 

Wukong’s tail twitches, as if it was impossible to keep still. As if it was far too plagued with anxiety. 

The realization comes gently, as gentle as Wukong’s grasp on Macaque's hand. 

Oh. 

Wukong’s scared. 

Scared in his own shy, timid way that he always masks as uncertainty and an opportune moment for jokes. Scared in a way that Macaque knows the only cure is approval. For someone to reaffirm that Wukong’s making the right choice. 

Macaque’s chest squeezes. 

“Go.” 

“Really?” 

“Yes, really!” Macaque forces himself to laugh. “Before I change my mind from missing you too much.” 

Macaque’s ears flatten at the heart-wrenching sound of Wukong choking back a sob. He needs Wukong to move before he goes through with said threat- 

A yelp lunges into his throat as strong arms sweep Macaque into a warm embrace, a wet nose pressed into his neck. 

“I wish you’d come with me,” Wukong admits. Like he hadn’t been preaching such a sentiment ever since Wukong announced his decision to leave. 

Macaque’s response had always been the same: “Someone’s gotta stick around, Your Majesty. If not you, then your right-hand man.” 

“And lose the chance to pretend to be king while you’re away?” he asks, hoping his voice conveys itself to be playful. “No way.” 

Wukong only laughs, finally freeing Macaque from his embrace. 

“Oh, wait!” 

Macaque dodges Wukong’s wild grab for him this time, using an arm to keep the king arm’s-length away. Any closer and Macaque won’t let go. 

“Your Majesty,” Wukong grins, stooping into a bow before his right-hand man. Something lands atop Macaque’s head, a crunch echoing throughout the air. 

Macaque blinks. Wukong’s head looks...different. 

He’s missing his crown. 

Macaque nearly wails at the realization, shoving Wukong away before the king can glimpse the newfound tears falling down his face. His head feels heavy with the intertwined leaves sat atop it. It should be unfair that an establishment of utter trust and faith could be silent. 

Little ones scream and howl when they realize Macaque cannot, pulling at their king’s robes whilst Wukong makes his way toward the boat. 

The boat’s sturdy. It’s a fact Macaque has come to know well. He wouldn’t send Wukong out on a death mission. 

The ropes keeping the boat at bay release, the waves already beginning to wash away Macaque’s best friend. 

“You better come back!” Macaque yells. “I can’t keep this ol’ thing forever!” 

Wukong’s cheerful agreement is all Flower Fruit Mountain’s temporary king needs to hear, the newfound weight on his head lifting if barely. 

“I’ll wait for you,” he whispers, a promise he prays the Universe will honor. Because this isn't a goodbye. Not as long as he waits for Wukong to return.

Even if it’s the last thing I do.  

#lego monkie kid #lmk fic #shadowpeach #lmk sun wukong #lmk macaque #angst #fanfic #your honor this is the start of abandonment issues #sun wukong #liu er mihou #ignore the fact that wukong gets his name from subodhi

[quietly-by-myself]

A Wicked Work of Art - Chapter 12

Masterlist

CW: drinking/alcohol, medical whump, trans whumpee, test subject whumpee, experiment whumpee, fantasy racism, dehumanization, fantasy whump, mentioned eye gore, eye whump, possession whump, references to attempted noncon, frank language, institutionalized slavery, possessive carewhumper, dehumanization, fictional religious talk

===

The basement of the bar stunk of whiskey and vodka. Cheering came from every direction. Compared to the somber atmosphere of the Facility, the basement of that bar was refreshing. 

People approached Stergios and Vasiliki with smiles. Vasiliki didn’t feel… judged. He expected hostility. He expected hatred. Vicious rejection. He thought everyone could see through him, look into his core, and understand what an awful person he was. See that part of him that was missing, that part of him that made him ever so slightly inhuman. 

They didn’t.

In fact, they opened him with open arms. Well, not everyone. He noticed some hostile glares that he was long used to. They weren’t the majority, though. Perhaps the majority was hiding how they truly felt about him, but Vasiliki didn’t get that sense.

“I need you to meet someone, Vasil.”

Unlike most of the others who were drinking and singing and dancing the night away, the figure was busy talking in a hushed corner. He was short - below five-foot and bore wolfish ears in his mop of golden-blonde hair. When he turned around to face them, Vasiliki immediately noticed the creature’s goat-like eyes.

“Vasil, this is Elias. Elias helps me a lot with operations.”

Now that Vasiliki looked harder at Elias, he noticed the wolfish way his legs were formed, his dog-like nails, his elongated fingers, and the webbing that hung between his toes and fingers. The left side of his mouth was missing some of its cheek - leaving his canines exposed. Then there were his goat-like horns, poking out of his hair. Elias wasn’t human - he was a devil. An old one at that.

A mix of awe and fear filled Vasiliki as he looked at Elias. The last time he’d seen a devil, it was attacking his village. However, those devils had been young. This was a different breed - a powerful, old devil. A golden one at that.

“Vasilios?” 

Vasiliki shook his head. “Vasiliki.”

Elias chuckled a little. “A girl’s name?”

“My mother liked it,” Vasiliki responded tersely. “Whether I was a boy or a girl, I would’ve been named Vasiliki.”

Elias didn’t lose that good-humored smile that played on his lips. “Well, then, Vasiliki, I’ve heard many things about you.”

Vasiliki tried not to be unnerved by the smile, the calm demeanor of the devil. He felt tense, afraid. To live this long, who knew what this devil had done, what atrocities he’d committed. That thought lingered as did the lingering scent of burning wheat. 

“I’m not sure I’ve heard much of you, Elias.” Vasiliki looked at Stergios hesitantly. Stergios knew that Vasiliki didn’t like devils, so what was the point of this? 

“That… doesn’t surprise me.” Elias threw an amused look at Stergios. “Stergios doesn’t like putting other members in danger. Himself, only. The fact that he told you, a Facility worker - a higher up at that - about his activities is proof enough.”

Vasiliki shifted a little. The undertone of hostility wasn’t lost on him. “You always were reckless, Stergios.”

“But we’ve known each other for a century. I know that’s not a long time for you, Elias, but that’s the majority of our lives.” 

Elias gave a genial chuckle. “No, it isn’t a long time. You don’t remember the times beyond this current regime. You don’t remember the Una Pax, the times before the gods of order and chaos, of death and of life, of disaster and prosperity were driven from this world. You don’t remember when the light mages and dark mages, the devils and the angels, when we all lived in peace.”

Vasiliki froze. “No such times have existed. Gods? What are you talking about?”

“A thousand years ago, my friend.” Elias’ smile turned into something of a smirk. “Who do you think gives us our magic? The gods. Who do you think used to keep the peace? The gods. When they were driven from this world three hundred years ago, peace couldn’t be held together long. I knew the gods, Vasiliki. You? You work for men playing the role of gods. Fake peace is all you’ll ever achieve.”

“Elias-”

“Let me speak, Stergios.” 

Stergios, for all his kindness and geniality, spoke tersely. “Elias, this is his first meeting. There’s no need to be so confrontational.”

“I see no reason not to be.” Elias glared at Vasiliki, staring deep into his soul with those piercing golden eyes. “He’s hurt countless. He’s contributed to a system that enslaves and tortures. He’s no better than the trainers. I don’t know why you’ve kept his company all these years, Stergios.”

“Because he can change, Elias. We all can. You should know that better than anyone-”

Vasiliki finally decided to speak up. “No, he’s right, Stergios. I’ve done a lot of wrong in my life.” Vasiliki grabbed his arm, rubbing it a little and shifting uncomfortably.

That had caught Stergios completely off-guard. “Vasil-”

“It’s okay.” Vasiliki gazed carefully at Elias. “I appreciate it, Elias.”

Elias scoffed. “You appreciate me for that?”

The conflict that had swallowed Vasiliki’s heart whole soon spread to his face. His eyebrows furrowed. “Yes. I know that I’m a bad person. I’ve- I’ve come to realize the error of my ways and I’m trying to change.”

A phone ringing interrupted Vasiliki. It was his cellphone - it was the paging line. Vasiliki immediately picked up.

“Hello?”

“Dr. Christakos, your subject attacked someone.”

Akakios?

“How bad is it? I’m a little busy right now. Is he injured?”

The nurse on the other end sighed - Vasiliki knew that voice well enough to know that it was Amara. “He ripped Constantine’s other eye out. We know it wasn’t the devil - his eyes weren’t silver when he did it. Dr. Christakos - Akakios hurt someone of his own volition. You need to come in immediately.”

Vasiliki looked at Stergios, who returned a concerned gaze. “I’ll come as soon as I can.”

He said his pleasantries to Stergios and Elias, then rushed out of the bar. He jumped in his car, pressing the pedal to the metal. He was speeding - at least 20 miles per hour above the speed limit, but fuck it, he was in the military in some odd way. He would get away with it, even if he was pulled over. 

Parking was easy to find at the complex this time of night - not at all like the morning. Vasiliki practically ran up to his lab, where two nurses armed with guns were waiting for him.

Amara approached him. “Dr. Christakos. I’m glad you could come so quickly.”

“Want to explain what Constantine was doing anywhere near my subject?” Vasiliki asked incredulously. “I thought I made it clear that the trainers were not to be around Akakios. How did he get badge access to my lab?”

Amara hesitated. “We don’t know. He’s going to be investigated by personnel security and the military police for this, because he attempted to sexually assault someone else’s property.”

Vasiliki saw red. He didn’t expect to be as angry as he was, but as he thought of that bastard Constantine trying to assault Akakios, he couldn’t help but be filled with rage. “What the fuck did he try to do?”

“Same thing as he always does.”

Vasiliki fought the urge to push aside Amara and barged into the lab. There, Akakios laid, his gown covered in blood, restrained to the table.

Akakios immediately shrank. “Master.”

Vasiliki looked behind him. The two nurses had followed him in. Amara approached from the side.

“Dr. Christakos, take a moment. Dr. Demos put your subject on the list for retraining. He said that you need to go speak to him immediately.”

Vasiliki swore. This was too much for him. Far too much. He was tired and overwhelmed and the conversation with Elias kept playing again and again in his head.

“I’ll go speak to him. I don’t want Akakios to be sent for retraining.” Vasiliki looked at Akakios, who was trembling in his restraints. “I think Constantine shouldn’t have been anywhere near my property.”

“Well, convince Dr. Demos.”

Vasiliki let out a heavy sigh of frustration, but gave up. “Don’t let anyone near Akakios. Stay outside until I figure out what the fuck is going on.”

—

Dr. Demos was a bastard of a man motivated by one thing: wealth. It worked well for him - moving up the ranks in the Facility quickly and eventually surpassing Vasiliki despite being fifty years his senior. It was always a practice in patience to grovel at Dr. Demos’ feet.

However, Vasiliki couldn’t imagine giving Akakios up to another trainer. Not to let him be tortured for an indefinite period of time. Not to have someone else’s hands on his research project. Vasiliki would rather handle Akakios’ punishment himself. 

To get what he wanted, groveling was exactly what he’d have to do. 

Vasiliki swallowed his pride and knocked on Dr. Demos’ door. “Dr. Demos, it’s Dr. Christakos.”

“Dr. Christakos,” Dr. Demos opened the door, giving a fake, almost passive-aggressive grin. “It’s a pleasure.”

“You as well.” Vasiliki bowed a bit, taking a seat in front of Dr. Demos’ desk, where his superior sat. “I’m here to discuss 7634. I don’t think retraining is fit for him.”

Dr. Demos raised an eyebrow. “Those are orders, Dr. Christakos. This is out of your hands now. 7634 attacked someone. He ripped eyes out. Of his own volition. He’s dangerous and needs retraining.”

“I- I know, Sir. However, I don’t think that an ordinary trainer can handle 7634 in his current state.”

“Continue.”

Vasiliki took a deep breath, closing his eyes and preparing himself for what he was about to say. “Dr. Demos- 7634 is transforming.”

“Into a devil? I thought his magic killed.”

Vasiliki nodded. “And it does. But, he has a devil inside of him, Asimi is their name. When a human mage is possessed like that, the devil slowly transforms the human into one of them. It can take anywhere from a few years to a few decades. Asimi has been with 7634 since he was a child. It… was only a matter of time.”

Dr. Demos’ eyes narrowed. “Why wasn’t something done about this devil sooner?”

“They’re very attached. It makes it impossible to remove the devil from the human. Someone I worked with before your time discovered that.”

“And what can be done now?”

“I have experimental therapies that can reduce aggression in devils. I’ve been working on locking down the dosage, but I think that I can prevent 7634 from becoming aggressive as a devil.”

Dr. Demos seemed unconvinced, before his eyebrows creased and he leaned back in his chair, weaving his hands together.

“Is he still going to be punished for this infraction?”

“Yes and it will be severe.”

Vasiliki hated the idea of punishing Akakios at all, but he would do what he had to, if it was for Akakios’ own good.

“And you aren’t doing this because he’s your work?”

“No, Sir.”

Dr. Demos considered Vasiliki, eyes piercing into him, looking for any sign of lies. 

He found none, even if Vasiliki had lied.

“Fine. If he can go three months without another incident of aggression, including towards you, you can keep him. If not, he gets retrained and sold. Is that clear?”

“Yes!” Vasiliki sounded almost a little bit too relieved. “Yes, Sir. Thank you.”

It made Vasiliki sick to have to grovel at Dr. Demos’ feet. 

“Report his punishment and the results of it to me. For now, you’re in the clear.”

Vasiliki nodded and swallowed, standing up a little too quickly. “I’ll complete the punishment in the morning.”

“No, you’ll complete it now. Report to me before you leave.”

Vasiliki froze, wanting to curse under his breath, but keeping himself amicable. “Yes, Sir.”

With that, he left, no further words to the doctor. Vasiliki could hardly call Dr. Demos a doctor at all, but then again, could the same really be said for him?

===

@i-can-even-burn-salad @whumpsday @pigeonwhumps @oddsconvert @pumpkin-spice-whump @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @writereleaserepeat @just-a-silly-little-whumper, @sparrowsage @inscrutable-shadow @whumplr-reader @whumpycries @demondamage @whumpshaped @itsleighlove @whump-blog

#drinking/alcohol #medical whump #trans whumpee #test subject whumpee #experiment whumpee #fantasy racism #dehumanization #fantasy whump #mentioned eye gore #eye whump #possession whump #references to attempted noncon #frank language #institutionalized slavery #possessive carewhumper #fictional religious talk #whump #whump writing #whump fic #whumpblr #whump community

[choicesmc]

Series Title: Don't Let This Be the Last Time Book: Laws of Attraction MC: Fiona Lightwood Warnings: Teen and Up Words: 1858

“I’ll be off then,” Gabe said with a brisk nod towards Aislinn. Her reply blurred as he paced past her, turning away from the hospital. New York, at least, had the little sense to quiet itself as he raced towards the office. 

There was much to do now. He’d have to tell Sadie that somehow a masked gunman had broken into McGraw office, stolen crucial evidence, and made off into the night without even the smallest hint to look for him. Even worse, her favorite senior associate did something so him and so stupid that he’s lying in a hospital bed for it. 

Gabe could already imagine the look on her face. A cross between horror and grim acceptance both carefully hidden by a mask of alarmed concern. He tapped on the steering wheel, cursing underneath its breath at typical New York traffic. It would’ve been better to walk, the hospital hadn’t been too far away from the office. 

Not that he could change anything now, Gabe was already on the road. He hadn’t been thinking straight when he jumped in. Even now, with his head rested against the wheel, he wasn’t thinking straight. 

Fiona was bleeding and he’d left him in the hospital. Fiona was hurt and scared and definitely not okay and Gabe had just left him. Gabe didn’t want to see his infallible boyfriend vulnerable while knowing there wasn’t anything he could do to help. Half of him wanted to scream at Fiona. Half of him wanted to cradle him. And he knew if he’d stepped into that room, seen that tired smile Fiona would give him then all of him would want to cry. 

A lump formed in his throat. If he was going to cry anyway, then he should’ve just stayed. He shouldn’t have left. He should’ve stayed by his side. He should’ve held him close. He should’ve held his hand. He should’ve done more. 

A honk from the car behind forced Gabe out of his spiral. Gabe wasn’t thinking straight. Not that he ever could when it came to Fiona. It was too late to regret it. Firstly, he’d already made his choice, let it not be in vain. Secondly, Aislinn might suspect something if he’d suddenly turned back after rushing out. 

“Tonight I’ll be the bearer of worse and worse news,” Gabe muttered, steeling himself for some difficult conversations. He sent a quick text to the group chat. The mental image of Fiona grumbling as he scrolled through all his missed messages gave Gabe a light laugh, a quick respite in this nightmare.

At night, the office was dark, lonely, and empty. Gabe was all too accustomed to this feeling –he’d often burned candlelight till daylight. But now, that familiar emptiness was stained with malice. Each shadow was darker and deeper than most days. Each step he took reverberated around the empty halls. Occasionally, dim light filtered through slips underneath closed doors, furious typing the only sound behind them. 

It took forever to get to his office. Gabe paused, warily checking both ways before entering. Propping his door open, he took a seat behind his desk. 

He didn’t have to wait long before the senior associates strolled in. He piqued an eyebrow, giving Sadie a nod of acknowledgement. Moving past them, he carefully locked his door, tossing a wary look to his coworkers, “You all may want to take a seat first.” 

“Thank God,” Gigi said, dropping into a seat, her tone light. There was a faint breathlessness to her words, “I knew I shouldn’t have worn heels.” 

Gabe gave her a humorless smile. 

Sadie made an unimpressed sound, barely audible to anyone who wasn’t listening for it. Still, she sat on one of the sofas with Beau and Martin quickly following suit. 

“...Where’s Fiona and Aislinn?” Martin asked. His brows furrowed in concern as he took careful stock around the room, as if it’d just now occurred to him that not everyone was present. He paused, pursing his lips before continuing, his tone oddly somber, “It’s not like either of them to be late.”

Once Martin pointed it out, Gigi let out a tense laugh assured that the pair would be along soon. Beau was silent. Sitting next to his aunt, it was the quietest Gabe had ever seen the man. Even Sadie sat straighter, her eyes flashing a mix of concern and another emotion Gabe couldn’t quite place. 

Cooly meeting their gaze, Gabe tried to remain level-headed, “Aislinn is with Fiona. They’re currently in the hospital.” 

_._. ._._ _._. ._._ _._.

Fiona’s fingers brushed over his bandages. In his other hand was his phone. It felt surreal. Just an hour and a halfish ago, Fiona was unconscious and bleeding. Just about an hour ago, he was almost certain this day would be his last one alive. And now? He was scrolling through the messages he’d received, typing out quick responses to each of them. 

He paused at Gabe’s number. The last text he’d sent was much earlier today. Shaking his head, he pushed aside the wave of disappointment. Then again, this was his company phone. Surely, Gabe would’ve sent something to his other number. Checking his personal phone, the same results stared him in the face: Gabe hadn’t sent Fiona anything. Even Martin had typed out a short ‘get well’ message!

Placing his phone aside, Fiona sighed, was it too much to ask for his boyfriend to send a sweet message when he was literally in the hospital? Running a hand through his hair, Fiona let a mirthless smile cross his lips. It was ridiculous, wasn’t it? He’d had a brush with death and now his biggest problem was Gabe’s paranoia about their relationship. 

Almost immediately after the thought, the door creaked open. Fiona’s heart caught in his throat. That would be a ridiculous coincidence.  

“Speak of the devil?” He mused, a leisurely smirk resting on his face. Regretting it as soon as Aislinn stepped through the door, her eyes clearly puffy from crying. 

“You should think of yourself,” was Aislinn’s response. She looked like hell. He could see smudges of tear stains running down her cheek. Her lips were red –a tell-tell sign she’d been biting it. 

“Hey,” he softly said, spreading his arms wide for a hug. For the first time, he had to look up at her, “Don’t beat yourself over it. I made my choice.” 

She barely hesitated before engulfing him, gripping him tight as if he’d crumble through her fingers. Patting her back, he comforted her.

“I thought you’d died,” Aislinn cried, voice muffled by Fiona’s shirt. 

“It’d take much more than a couple bullets to keep me down,” he said, a cheeky grin resting on his face. 

“Why would you do that?” she demanded, her tone turning at his cheeky response, “They were armed Fiona! Armed!”

Sheepishly, he stroked her back, “...I didn’t think they’d shoot.” 

Aislinn pulled back, incredulity plain on her face. Her brows furrowed as she repeated Fiona’s words back to him, “You didn’t think an armed intruder would shoot at you. Am I getting that right?” 

It’d sounded a lot better in his head. Shrinking under her gaze, he defended himself, “He didn’t shoot when they came in, so I’d figured they weren’t sent to kill us. Just scare us a little.” 

He could feel her gaze intensify and was almost aware of how ridiculous his reasoning seemed. Fiona looked away, continuing, “And I was right. Neither shot was lethal.”

Shifting in the bed, he fiddled with the bottom of his bandages. Still avoiding Aislinn’s eyes, he let his thoughts wonder. Perhaps it was the painkillers but they didn’t hurt as much as they should’ve. It felt weird knowing the bullets were still in him. Supposedly, it was much more risky attempting to pull them out than just leaving them there. He knew that wasn’t the right answer. He knew Aislinn was looking for a better answer. He knew he couldn’t give her one.

“And?” Aislinn demanded, breaking him out of his chain of thought, “Don’t tell me you risked your life on the chance that maybe the shots you’d get wouldn’t be lethal.” 

It was times like this that made him regret being so right all the time. 

Fiona shrugged, a wistful smile on his face, “That phone was the key to the case. I had to try at least.” He leveled his gaze at her, tone firm, “Marcus deserves that much.”  

“Fiona Lightwood,” Aislinn said, not flinching from his gaze. She placed a hand on his shoulder. She squeezed his shoulder trying, somehow, to press her message into him. All he really did was smile brighter, playing ignorant to her intent. “Marcus doesn’t want you to die for him.”

“I’m in this business to help people, Aislinn,” Fiona said carefully, gently moving her hand from his shoulder, “besides, it’s my duty as a zealous advocate. I want to be able to tell Marcus I did everything possible for him.” 

“He already knows that!” Aislinn yelled, pulling him forward by his shirt, making Fiona wince. Like this he could see Aislinn’s eyes up close. Her eyebrows scrunched together, her lips pursed tight, and her nostrils flared. Her fists clenched the bundled fabric in her hands, each word she spat out, “Fiona don’t kill yourself for a single case!”

“It wasn’t lethal,” Fiona stubbornly replied. Ignoring the increasing bunching of his shirt in her hands. Patting her shoulder, he ignored the tension coiled under her fingers, placing a charming smile on his face, “But I understand, of course. A dead me isn’t helpful at all.” 

Aislinn searched his eyes. Fiona wasn’t sure what she was looking for. She stared for a while, seeming not to find whatever it was. Withdrawing, Aislinn changed topics. Her voice heavy, not free from her earlier passion but resigned to it, “You’re free to go. The doctor said they’d call you in for a checkup at a later date.” 

A frown nearly appeared on his face as he nodded, “Thanks for letting me know.” He offered her a parting wave that she returned half-heartedly. Fiona watched her disappear behind the door, finally letting his charming smile drop from his face. 

“That could’ve gone a lot better,” Fiona said under his breath. He wasn’t even sure what the problem was. He was alive. Yes, he’d lost the phone but clearly that was not what Aislinn had a problem with. Besides that, what else was there to be upset about? 

Smoothing down the front of his shirt, Fiona let out a breath. His eyes lingered on his personal phone. Nothing. Irritation flared in him. 

Fine. If Gabe was going to avoid him then Fiona would go to him instead. And he’d have to face the rest of his coworkers. And decide whether or not he’d tell Marcus. And whether or not he’d tell his parents. A small smile cracked his irritation, a little over two hours from near death and he already had a to-do list. 

He shrugged to himself, the smile still staining his face. “New York moves fast,” he murmured, “Luckily, I am more than happy to keep up.”  

___________________________ haha chapter two took a little work! I love how it came out though! Also the word count doubled 😭 how?! I didn't mean to! I swear! taglist: @dutifullynuttywitch (hope you enjoy 💜)

#laws of attraction #myfic #fiona lightwood #fanfic

[soliisx]

In The Dragon Republic specifically, do you think Nezha confided in Venka about everything going on with Rin, their growing friendship, all the fighting etc or is everyone else simply drawing their conclusions about the two from observation? Kitay is ofcourse there for Rin but even when she can't bring herself to say anything he's observant and smart, so he'd figure it out. It makes me think about that one moment in chapter 34 I think it was, where Venka's helping Rin get dressed and as soon as she sees Nezha she's all smug like 'have fun' before immediately trying to flee the scene. And even before she walks out Nezha makes a comment about Rin's knot saying it's pretty and Venka continues to tease him, winking when she says it's 'even prettier on the wearer.' That was such a light hearted moment (for a change) and made me curious about how much she knew

Personally, I don’t think Nezha would have confided in Venka. He lashes out when he’s scared, insecure, unsure, etc, all the times he insulted or hurt rin when she presented something that conflicted with his ideals or perception of the world (ex. a southerner at Sinegard, her criticism of jinzha, etc), but when it comes to his deepest feelings he keeps them bottled up until he physically can’t anymore, often because rin pushes him ‘too far’. For example, her repeatedly calling him a coward and unintentionally striking at his deep rooted trauma and him finally blowing up after revealing the story of the Dragon. When she doesn’t push though, he refuses to reveal anything deep, like when he denies calling her name as the Federation dragged him away, as well as him only telling her about his nightmares of her death when he’s convinced they’ll die the next day (and obviously still not revealing all the details of those dreams), and him never revealing his true feelings to her at all, instead stifling then as we see in TDF. He’ll reveal ‘surface-level’ feelings, i.e fear during battle, anger, frustration, etc but not the ones held deepest, i.e, his trauma (aside from that one scene, and only after she pushed him and he’d thought she’d died), and his love and fear for/of rin. So I don’t think he would’ve confided in venka, because I don’t think he can or would know how to. Moreso, their relationship fundamentally changed after he refused to let her fight on campaign with them. that’s when something in their relationship irreparably fractured (and her allegiance subtly shifted towards rin). Even if they were still on ‘good terms’ after that, it wasn’t the same because he’d denied her her autonomy, decided for her what she was capable of handling or not, restricting her from doing the one thing that might give her some sense of self/‘worth’/autonomy back. They didn’t interact much before the campaign started, and he always treated her as if she were fragile when he did. their relationship was fraught, and I think they both sensed that, whether or not they actively acknowledged it. I’m not sure she would have been in the right headspace pre-campaign even if he had told her either (because I think the last thing on her mind with all her other worries would’ve been a budding relationship between rinezha). However, the scene you’re referring to is post-Battle of Red Cliffs, when they’d all just survived a ‘final’ battle of epic proportions, presumed unwinnable, and after she’d already ‘proven’ herself with her archery skills during it. Like you said, it’s a lighter moment, and they’re all in disbelief and relieved so I think she let those comments slip because she’s just glad they’re alive against all odds. The usual somberness/grim reality of warfare is temporarily suspended in that victorious, post-battle haze and they can ‘relax’ a little, hence her words. On a different note, to finally answer your original question lol, I believe venka intuited his feelings herself. She’s spent most of her youth being prepared to be the ‘proper’ wife by her parents, and with her cleverness and perceptiveness, she would’ve learned quickly how to tell where, when, and how a man’s interest in a woman lies, whether it’s romantic, sexual, predatory, etc, as that’s what she needed to watch out for, gauging any potential suitors chosen by her parents. this is reaffirmed when she asks rin how she’d survived so long without feminine wiles, implying that her [venka]’s feminine wiles include knowing when a man is interested and how to handle that (seeing as her life before Sinegard largely revolved around that). Nezha’s interest would’ve been obvious.  Plus, she’s been friends with him for a long time, even if their relationship changed, she would’ve been able to tell, just like how kitay was able to know that nezha would throw himself off a cliff for rin. Great ask OP! i really wracked my brain for this question since I haven’t read the series in a while, thanks for giving me the chance to analyze again! 

#the poppy war #tpw #the dragon republic #sring venka #yin nezha

[mysaldate]

AThane and the symbolism behind the outfit

This has been on my mind for quite some time, pretty much ever since AThane was introduced to the game but it was only with the comic coming out that I realized just what was it that looked so important for me in his design. Yes, I’m not very fast on the uptake sometimes let me ramble xD

As usual, this will probably be a fairly long post so I’m putting it under Read More just in case. And yes, I know this is the Brutus month and tbh, I do love ABrutus and his story is amazing but I don’t really have much to say in terms of symbolism etc.

The Awakened heroes so far didn’t really have any MAJOR changes to their design. Sure, ATalene tied her hair back and got an extra pair of fluffier wings, and AEzizh got buffer and more blue and pink than red and purple but it wasn’t anything huge. There really wasn’t much going on in terms of theme or symbolism that wouldn’t already be there in their original form. Yes, ATalene looks more angelic than the old version and yes, AEzizh now ascends from a ball of demonic purple energy but these changes only emphasize what was already there, meanwhile AThane’s design completely flips the script on his previous aesthetics and feel.

Since his introduction to the game, Thane stood out as being one of the few Lightbearers with a darker theme to his design. Sure, he wasn’t the only one but it was still somewhat of a staple of his. His outfits consists mostly of dark blues, grays, and browns, a lot of them a little faded, and though he’s on his guard, his expression is somber. This goes double for his in-game model. And unlike the other darker-themed characters, he doesn’t really have much to lighten the overall feel up. Estrilda has her flag which has brighter colors and a nice rim of light (and her insane amount of revealed skin which also brightens the pic), Hendrik’s colors are overall lighter and he has more gold on his outfit, his hair being white also adds to a more positive mood, and we could go on. Standing out from the lineup would be Morrow and Scarlet but those are fairly late additions and their palettes are more purposely contrasting than the somber darkness we see in Thane.

In a way, this is tied to Thane’s mental state at that point of his story. After losing Baden, and blaming himself for it, Thane fell into fairly deep depression, one he only somewhat got out of after he started training Estrilda. But going off of the Solemn Vow storyline, even that didn’t exactly get him out of that state much and while he did come to genuinely care for her, how much of his teaching was because he cared and how much was because of his self-assumed debt to the Rayne family is still unclear. I think it’s safe to say that with Baden, a part of Thane died as well. And while Baden wasn’t exactly dead, there is no canon confirmation that Thane would know about that. This is one of the things I really wish they would’ve made into a webcomic since we are apparently getting some comics for some awakened heroes and it would allow for more emotional connection compared to the Voyage of Wonders and plain text description.

Furthermore, and the picture above is inverted since I can’t find the correctly-facing one, Thane lost his right arm at the same time he lost Baden. This isn’t enough to end his swordsmanship even if it was his dominant hand but no doubt was this a major blow for both his sense of self-worth and his everyday life. Again, this is already very symbolic of what happened to him because of the loss of Baden – he didn’t die but it would forever be in the back of his mind like a haunting reminder of his failure. For all means and purposes, Thane’s story could’ve ended there, leaving him agonizing over that one moment where he lost his... ehm “best friend” and his arm, the moment of his ultimate failure.

And then came his awakening.

Immediately, the first thing you notice is how much brighter this design is compared to the original. AThane is still wearing the same black suit but now with more gold, and his cloak has brighter colors. Even his hair – and a new goatee – changed from gray to blue. The addition of lighter shades, whites, and the overall light-feeling aesthetic also marks a big step for his mental state and character development. AThane moved to a brighter place. It is very fitting that Thane’s design choices are affected by him losing Baden, while AThane’s are directly tied to finding Baden again, and being able to prove himself worthy of him.

The motif for AThane’s outfit appears to be the peacock, both based on the colors and on the shape his outfit took. Peacocks are, among other things, universally considered the symbol of pride and confidence but various cultures assign them other meanings as well. In Native American cultures, peacocks could be used self-esteem, refinement, beauty, or even sexuality. Hinduism associates peacocks with prosperity, good luck, and protection. And finally, in Chinese history, peacocks were used to symbolize power, beauty, and even divinity.

It is therefore fitting for AThane’s theme to be so heavily leaning into the peacock motif for several reasons. Not only has he gained new power – and it was the power to protect – but he gained a connection to the divine by merging with the elemental wind mark. This was most certainly a tough choice, Thane avoided it for as long as he could, knowing how much of a strain it was sure to put on him. It was no sooner than he saw Baden ready to sacrifice himself for him AGAIN that he made his choice, thus ultimately making this choice about love. Now, whether you see Thaden as platonic or romantic, there is no doubt that some kind of deep love runs between the two. Last time, Baden was the one to act on it and take a tremendous risk. This time, Thane is the one to take the risk, not willing to fail Baden again, even if it costs his life. And finally, we get to the final point of AThane’s design.

Notice how the right side of his cloak is so heavily decorated with the feathers while the left side is relatively plain, the feather design instead appearing on his sleeve. This is the part I newly realized and that really knocked the air out of me once it clicked. By his self-sacrifice, AThane not only made up for his previous mistake, but he gained wings. His arm won’t ever come back, much like Baden will never be human again, but there is now something to substitute it. Now, I’m sure I don’t have to get into the common associations when it comes to wings, but let me just bring up a few most common – and most interesting – ones.

Wings symbolize protection. In multiple official arts of AThane, he seems to be using his missing arm as a way to deflect blows, the shoulder piece serving as a bright shield. This also tracks with how he even gained this new power – in an attempt to protect Baden, on a mission to protect Estrilda, and ending up giving him the determination to try and protect the world.

Wings symbolize freedom. In AThane’s case, it’s the freedom from his haunting past, and the ability to overcome it. It’s a freedom of his weakness and of the fear that he would end up losing everyone again. I wouldn’t be surprised if after this, we saw the character developing deep relationships and let himself get close to people again. He might even feel free to express himself some more. One thing I certainly hope to see once we finally get to the culmination of this arc is Thane, completely exhausted after the battle, perhaps hurt, but looking over the people who helped him get there, and smiling, or perhaps even laughing, letting all the stress and responsibility wash off of him.

And finally, wings symbolize purity and divinity. I touched upon the divinity before but I want to mention it briefly once more because angels as we know them are often intimately tied to both of the previous ties. But furthermore, they are gentle, often self-sacrificing creatures who serve as protectors, soldiers, messengers, and more. This role is fitting for a character like Thane who was a soldier, a castellan, a detective, an arrand boy, and now finally also a protector. It also symbolizes a rebith of sorts. With his rise from the dark depths his mind was in before, he can now fully embrace a new calling.

AFK Arena (luckily) doesn’t have a habit of killing off playable characters but if it did, I believe it to possibly be the perfect culmination for AThane’s arc. This is just my opinion so absolutely feel free to yell at me. I simply think that AThane gaining wings and then possibly falling in the final battle, possibly shielding his allies instead of going in for a reckless offensive, would be the most fitting end to his character development, showing us just how far he’s gone. From someone who needed others to die for him, to someone willing to protect others with his life. But even if this is not going to happen any time soon, simply the fact that he was willing to risk it for the mere chance of being able to save others is already an incredible step forward.

Well, that would be it for this analysis. I plan on going more in-depth about why the characters were picked for their particular elements too but since we only have two so far, that might have to wait. Speaking of which, we’re left down to fire and water, and Wilders and Graveborn. I wonder who will take which element? Wilders already have a character associated with fire, and Graveborn have multiple water-related characters so seeing a switch would certainly be interesting. There’s also the Daimon song video that has the grave symbolized by a large body of water so that could also be a hint... Well, we’ll see in two months. Until then, let me know what you think.

If you’ve read this far, thank you very much, you have no idea how much it means. I’m sorry for being so long-winded and hope you at least found it interesting. If you’re curious about the sources for some of the claims I’ve made in this post, hmu either in dms or send in an ask. I hope to see you soon, possibly with a lighter post this time!

#afk arena #afk game #afk #afk thaden #afk thane #afk baden #afk awakening #thane the veiled wind #awakened thane #athane #afk athane #awakened heroes #winds of change #the blood claw #afk comics #afk elemental strife #why is athane so beautiful dammit

[lightlycareless]

First, it hurts— Chapter XXV [part 1]

(part 2)

Naoya Zen’in x Fem!Reader

While arranged marriages are not uncommon in the jujutsu community, it was strange to receive a proposal from none other than the Zen’in’s, nonetheless your clan accepted and before you knew it, you were married off to Naoya.

Your new purpose was clear: to serve and submit, to be seen and not heard. To forget any sense of individuality in favor of obeying your husband.

Will this marriage ever flourish into something else? Will it change…for better or for worse?

Chapter warnings: misogyny, mentions of violence, a lil bit of fluff, a bit of gore too? mentions of blood. slight implication of sexual acts. And I think that's it 😣 (applies to part 2 as well)

A/N: Hi, not much. :> Just happy to be posting another chapter!

Without any further ado, happy reading! 🥰

Masterlist ➸ Chapter 26

Ao3 link.

After everything that happened last night, you don’t know how it is that you found yourself capable of getting a wink of sleep—nor do you remember how you returned to your bedroom, for that matter.

To be fair, even if you did get some sleep, it wasn’t as gratifying as you would’ve wanted, for every few hours you’d wake up, eyes wide open, slowly adjusting to the somber environment of your room, eventually revealing the sight of your uneventful ceiling, or the company of staff, Haruko, Hitomi, and Mariya all crammed up on the futon by your side, sleeping.

It’s in these fleeting moments that you’d come to address the one who is to be the light sleeper of your staff, for whenever you’d glance over to their direction, you’d find the drowsy yet anxious brown eyes of Haruko staring back at you. 

It wouldn’t take long before the essence of her duty prompted her to inquire if you were ok, if you needed something to make your night more enjoyable, a snack? A drink?—questions that you were grateful for, but quickly dismissed them by suggesting that perhaps going back to sleep was the best option to take at the moment.

Haruko appeared to accept your response with seemingly no resistance, but before you were able to check if she’d gone ahead and check if she'd done as you requested, the light snores from her quieting breathing confirmed your assumptions.

Your knowledge, however, wouldn't extend to the reason behind her light sleep, although you could already presume that it was due to the lingering tension from everything that might’ve, or might’ve not transpired while in the presence of your husband. 

Something that you kept a secret from them, quieting their questions by promising to tell them everything in the morning before bidding them goodnight, all in efforts to not soil their night as you’d done for yourself: a judgment that resulted in nothing, for your skittish cook was the first one to fold to her nerves, evident by the way that she was barely capable of going to sleep without worrying for you.

Nonetheless, the three women already knew that they didn’t need to go beyond your somber face to understand that something terrible had occurred, and that something worse would soon ensue. 

A horrifying thought to ruminate on as the night continued, and fast forward to the day after, it’s what motivated your prime-lady-in-waiting to spring herself up from the bed as soon as the first rays of sun made their way through the curtains and into your chambers.

“Y/N!” Mariya shrieked as she propelled herself up from the futon, a loud reaction that rattled the rest to wake up as well. You included.  

Mariya seemed far more well rested compared to the sisters who were yawning themselves up from sleep, or so you presumbed thanks to the disheveled appearance of her long dark hair, alongside dry traces of saliva found on one of the corners of her mouth, finalizing with her  yukata, which was wrongly draped all over her body, result of tossing and turning all night.

But neither of these things were of her worry, not when she had to come to your aid first.

“I mean—Lady Y/N” Mariya coughed, a distraction to excuse her poor manners when addressing her mistress, before frantically addressing you once more “What—what happened last night? Are you alright?!”

“Are you hurt?! Are you in pain?!” Haruko was the second to follow, eyes watery and voice hoarse for yawning repeatedly, as she attempted to scurry to your side. Hitomi would’ve taken her place, had it not been another lethargy-inducing yawn that stopped her mid-way.

“Y/N—” Hitomi would attempt to call once she felt the last part of a yawn escape her lips, only to be disgruntled when another one bubbled up, clasping her hand over her mouth to cover the unwanted sight of her mouth “Y/N! Jesus ” She denounced, irritated for having to overcome another yawn, for a third time, before she was finally able to get a word out. “Are you alright, Lady Y/N?!”

Their sluggish gestures, although appreciated and well received, far from making you feel cared for, highlighted the guiltiness that threatened to eat you from the inside once you realized that you stripped them from a well-earned rest thanks to your unforeseen antics, and… well, whatever sanction you triggered from your husband.

But at the same time, you have to be compassionate with yourself and your individuality, your tranquility. Two small, but primordial details that you’ve reconciled with last night, agreeing to never sacrifice them again. 

And if you were to consider Mariya’s words, adding Haruko’s and Hitomi’s pleas for you to reconsider a better course of action… They believed so too.

You had to trust your ladies a bit more, after all, hadn’t they showed you more than enough times that they supported you and your decisions?

“…Good morning” you mutter, carefully rubbing your eyes as you also proceed to slowly push yourself up from the futon. 

It’s at this moment that all the repercussions from last night comes crashing down onto your body in the bulky form of fatigue, slowing you down by making the smallest exertion on your arms a herculean effort, worsening with the darkening of your vision, which you quickly identified as one of the many symptoms of having low pressure—effectively portraying how affected your body had become after everything you went through with Naoya, and his cousin Jinichi for that matter.

Noticing your trial, Mariya is hasty to jump to your assistance by gently placing her hand behind your back and attentively pushing you upwards, her other hand is offered for your palm to grab, which you were hesitant to comply with, feeling that it was a bit… unnecessary.

But if there was something that Mariya has shown you time and time again, is that she isn’t one to give up easily, and with enough insistence, you finally abided to her help.

“Good morning, Lady Y/N” Mariya greeted back once she assessed you to be appropriately sat. “Did you… sleep well?”

“What little I could” you admitted, looking back at her. 

Her voice represented it well, but if you had any doubts, they were cleared once you set eyes on her countenance. 

Her anxious glance, tightly pressed lips, and furrowed brow… it was evident that she hadn’t been able to keep her mind off of things, more so when you refused to talk about it last night—only able to do so by forcing herself to sleep, an acquired skill for a workplace like this. 

“What about you? Did you sleep well?” you asked, now referring to your staff as a whole.

“Not really” Haruko responded, hinting back at the various instances you caught each other partaking in the silence of the night. “I don’t think any of us were able to.” she says, looking at her sister who was nodding along with her words. Did you disregard the possibility of her being awake as well? Perhaps. Hitomi was always the most discreet of the two.

“I see” You sigh, their open admittances only making you feel worse. “I’m sorry”

“There's nothing to apologize for.” Hitomi added “There’s good nights, and bad nights. We just… got a bad one this time”

You give her a strained smile “I guess so” and then, you go silent.

It’s an all consuming void that begins to grow bigger and bigger the more you insist on remaining reticent, as well as your ladies' diligence in following your lead. 

There’s no denying that this awkward cumbersome environment is caused by your puerility of how to bring the inflammatory topic to the table, or perhaps your repudiation of reliving yesterday’s pain by sharing your experience with them.

And while Mariya is an avid believer that a moment of silence, of solitude, could do good to maintain a healthy relationship with oneself’s emotions, she comes to the conclusion that in this particular moment, allowing you to dive deeper and deeper into the pit of your overthinking isn’t… the best thing to allow.

Not when they still had to deal with the looming threat of your husband’s rule.

It was best to deal with this situation as one would with band aid, rip it off quickly, face the pain, so they could start worrying on how to deal with whatever it was that was coming their way.

“Lady Y/N” Mariya interjects through the suffocating presence of the elephant in the room. “Can we… talk?”

There’s no need to be specific to understand what she was alluding to.

You remain silent, deep in thought, as you mentally prepare yourself to muster up the words to best describe what happened yesterday—but the lingering shock of your actions undermines your efforts to be eloquent, limiting yourself to respond with a blunt “I think I messed up” that has Mariya’s frown deepening, and Haruko’s and Hitomi’s face dropping.

“What do you mean?” She queries back, distress undisputable in her voice “What happened?”

“I… I think my actions put everyone in danger” You eventually confess, bringing to the light the burden that weighed heavy on your shoulders “You, the twins, Junko, Naoaki… and—and I think my family as well”

Mariya’s eyes widen at the severity of your revelation, mind quick to list an endless list of dark situations that might’ve transpired to cause this consequence.

What could you possibly have done to irk Naoya to such a level?

“What… happened, Lady Y/N?” Hitomi cautioned who, just as Mariya, was already galloping through the worst scenarios, although, there is a part of her that tells her that no matter what she's imagining, couldn’t compare to what actually occurred.

“I… made Naoya angry” you begin, voice brittle as you recount the traumatizing experience, looking away from their anxious eyes as an unconscious way to minimize yourself from their presence. More so when you realized you were about to admit to putting them into a more strenuous position. “You… can already guess what he attempted… to obtain from yesterday”

Mariya swallows, giving you a nod to continue on.

“But I— I didn’t permit it” you breathe “I… I couldn’t find it in myself to do so”

Your ladies blink.

Had they heard you right?

When they saw you arrive, frantic and startled, they all assumed this to have the befitting  result of the defilement he unquestionably put you through.

After all, it held a similarity to the many situations they’ve seen you in after he was done… using you. Discarding you as nothing more than a rag doll for them to pick up after, bathe, dress, overall, keep prepared for when he decides to use again.

But never in a million years, would they have culminated that this reaction…was because you decided to stand up against him and… flee .

Mariya saw the quivering, but forthright determination in your eyes when you announced you were to go out there and put yourself in harm just to repay what they’ve done for you—something that needed no invoice, for they did it out of the goodness and principles of their heart.

So to hear that you’ve retracted your steps by placing your well being over Naoya’s desires was… satisfying, to say the least. A statement which filled Mariya, Haruko, and Hitomi with pride.

You did what was right for your persona, for your mental health. No woman should be forced to play the sick roles of a sexist society and endure this level of humiliation just to live another day

However… Neither were blind to the gruesome ramification that was intertwined with this assertion. 

Now that you’ve firmly stated on stone that you completely reject Naoya and all that he represents…

You have declared war .

And it was essential to prepare for it.

“And to make it worse… I scratched his face” You grieve, believing this to be the final nail in your coffin, preparing yourself to be received with sharp gasps of apprehension.

But not everyone was to behave as you anticipated, the first one to break your expectations being Hitomi and her short-lived snicker of amusement for his long-overdue comeuppance.

“I apologize” Hitomi tacitly said upon feeling Mariya’s irate gaze on her figure, which judged her reaction as ill-timed and perhaps even unnecessary for the solemn ambience. 

Well, not that it would disturb her thoughts that much, for she knew deep inside, Mariya was also pleased that you’ve given Naoya a taste of his own medicine—she was just trying to keep a respectable environment for you to express your thoughts, as well as avoiding the impression that she was mocking you.

However, you didn’t feel rattled by her reaction. If anything, her chuckle served as some kind of reassurance, as if she was commending you for physically defending yourself against the man that gave himself the liberty of manhandling you to his liking ever since you got married.

It felt good to teach him how that felt, even if it was through a brief, small attempt.

“It’s… Ok, Mariya” You commented upon noticing Mariya’s stern gaze towards your seamstress, forcing her head to swirl back towards your direction and relax upon seeing your unaffected state “I… have to admit, it felt good giving him a taste of his own medicine… even though I probably dug a deeper hole for myself”

“No, you did not” Mariya interjected, shaking her head “At least… not for yourself. I told you, didn’t I? I’ll be there no matter what happens. If you dig a hole for yourself,  I’m going to be there too”

“That sounds awful, Mariya” you joshed “but…I know what you mean, and… I thank you so much, for everything”

“You two aren’t the only ones in this sinking ship!” Haruko chimes in with a grin “I’ll gladly fall with you, captain!”

You giggle at the playfulness of her words, but your appreciation for her support was unwavering. And you begin to feel the murky clouds of your husband’s pain to dissipate from your mind.

“… Me too.” Hitomi added, sharing her sentiment. 

And while she isn’t one to indulge in her sister’s figurative comparison, she can’t stop herself from admitting that her jokes were exactly what this gloomy meeting needed. Just the necessary amount of cheerfulness, but not enough to distract them from the controversial topic at hand.

“But then… what are we going to do now?” she asks, and the light banter is immediately abolished, bringing each and every woman back to reality.

“I… I don’t know” You admitted first “I’m… frightened to go out. I know Naoya is out there, waiting for me, for the moment I step out of this room but… but at the same time, I want to speak with Junko-san, I need to speak with her… and Naoaki”

It’s subtle, fleeting, and in the quickest of seconds, passing almost completely undetected, but not to your prime lady-in-waiting, who is able to catch the faintest glimmer in your eye upon you muttering Naoaki’s name.

It’s different from the usual doting twinkle that always seemed to accompany his mention —or presence itself— and even further away from the tender flush that lovingly painted your cheeks.

This time… there was something darker, sorrowful, and it doesn’t take long for Mariya to define your reaction as disappointment . A word she never thought she’d conclude in the same sentence with Naoaki's name—or was this something she already dreadfully anticipated?

Nonetheless, there’s no denying now that something big happened last night that effectively shook the foundations of your feelings towards your husband's brother (regardless of what degree they might be in) to have you in this state of reservation—so divergent to your overjoyed behavior from yesterday’s morning.

She knows for a fact that you wont bring it up out of your own volition because… Well, the last time Mariya and you spoke about him you left the conversation with the explicit understanding that you were never to discuss this matter with her, for you were not interested in conversing with someone that thought ill of him.

And while she may or may not have her differences with him, that didn’t matter for her utmost priority was you . And if he made you happy, then she’d happily be supportive of your relationships.

Mariya soon realizes that this could also be another factor that seemed to stop you from sharing your thoughts with her. After all, your friendship with her had only recently bloomed, thus, there were many topics that both had to yet feel comfortable with sharing to one another.

Well, she shouldn’t blame you for not wanting to talk about him with her I'm the first place, for it would be hypocritical if she considered that she kept Tatsuro hidden from you (which served as one hell of an ice-breaker when it was finally brought into the light) and still does from the rest of your staff due to personal reasons. 

It was only fair that she respected your decision in keeping Naoaki private from your conversations with her.

Yet, she still wanted to show you that you could trust her with anything . Help you carry the weight of your thoughts, reassure you that you didn’t need to face the demons in your mind alone.

Reaffirm to you that you made a genuine friend that fateful night, and that’s something that she was willing to put in the work to show.

She just needed to know if you were on the same page as her.

“That might be a possibility.” Hitomi added, going on to reflect on Naoya’s usual routine. “But it’s also very early, maybe he hasn’t even woken up…?”

“But don’t you think that if he wanted to do something, he would’ve done so already?” Haruko speculates “I… don’t know him that well, his staff tends to be very… distant when it comes to his matters, and he rarely seems to interact with the servants, if it isn’t to reprimand them cruely, obviously ” She frowns “But… When he wants something, nothing seems to stop him. And certainly, he’s never stopped when it comes to our Y/N— Lady Y/N”

“It’s true” Mariya states, and suddenly, she finds a discrepancy with your story.

It’s not that she believed you were lying to them, for she knew you trusted them, besides… what would you gain from keeping the truth about something as serious as this? More so when all the things you’ve accounted for were in-character for Naoya.

Or so… she perceived.

If you’ve truly done something so outrageous to Naoya, reject and hurt him, all in one night… Why did he not seek you out immediately after you left his chambers? 

Toying with you after this level of transgressions is undeniably out of the equation, considering where that tactic got him in the first place, his anger wouldn’t be able to contain him in place, thus, he could easily be waiting just around the corner, ready to ambush.

But then… she also had to consider yesterday’s timeline. 

How much time did you spend inside your husband’s room, and how much time passed when you finally returned to yours?

Did you go somewhere else? Did something distract you from coming back as soon as possible?

Or did you perhaps… go to Naoaki’s room, and that’s when the thing that has you cautious around him, happened?

It’s safe to say that Mariya is besieged with the sudden urge of uncovering these details, growing greater and greater as the clock ticks by, to the point that she feels herself choked with the words that she desperately wants to ask you—only stopping due to the presence of Hitomi and Haruko.

Mariya hopes to not appear… pushy when she decides to enact her next order, nor to make the sister’s feel they’re not wanted, or undermine their relationship with you, but she… she really needs to know the complete truth of last night, if she is to help you survive for another day.

And she’d like to do so… privately. 

Maybe there’s a reason why you haven’t discussed these kinds of topics with them, and she wasn’t about to go ahead and expose you just like the rest of your in-law’s had already done so.

“But there’s no use in dwelling on things we don’t know are going to happen… or not” Mariya declares, pulling the girls full attention back to her “However, there is one thing that we know, and that’s that if we let our fears root us here he’ll find us eventually—we have to stay on our feet”

“What do you mean?” You ask, your mind immediately conjures up last night successions,  strolling around the estate, from room to room, as some kind of yurei looking for an unsuspecting victim to haunt—which, if you had to be completely honest about, Naobito was just a few months away from making this a reality.

But as obvious as it seemed to go down this route… Neither you or your ladies were even able to get a good night’s rest… Is Mariya confident enough that their bodies will be able to support an additional ordeal like this?

Probably not, but such was a sacrifice all would have to make if their survival was to be ensured. 

“Haruko, Hitomi” She calls, and the sisters nod in acknowledgement “I know how frightening it must be to go out there thinking that someone is going to hurt you but… I assure you, that won’t happen. If there’s one thing Meiko didn’t consider when cutting us off from the rest of the staff, is that neither she, or anyone else, knows about our whereabouts anymore.”

“Wait, wait ” you blink, caught off guard by this radical change “The housekeeper cut you off from the staff? What does that even mean? Are you at least getting paid ??”

“It’s a long story, I’ll tell you later” Mariya dismisses you immediately, causing you to frown, before going back to the sister’s  “For now, get changed, have breakfast, and wait for me and Lady Y/N to be ready, and we’ll go from there”

Feeling a sudden rush of motivation and righteousness after the reminder of the facts on their favor, as well as their urgent sense of survival, the sisters give Mariya a quick nod of approval and take her orders at heart, hasty to recollect their appearance and leave your bedroom and towards their staff’s dormitories, effectively leaving you alone with Mariya.

Just how she intended.

It's in the absence of the rest of your ladies that your sorrow becomes more apparent, either for having to go out into the allegorical battlefield in a matter of minutes, because you’ve just learned that your ladies had also been mistreated by the rest of the staff or perhaps… your mind had inadvertently gone back to Naoaki now that it wasn’t distracted by the jolly presences of your cook and seamstress.

These are all viable options, but nothing in your surroundings helps Mariya get to a conclusion. It’s probably a combination of the three, but at the same time… she knows the duels of an aching heart, and her theory seems to incline further down to Naoaki.

Well, whatever it might be, she’s not going to let another second go to waste and allow your feelings to be bottled up any longer, and as she inches closer to you, as to physically show her support, she begins.

"Lady Y/N" Mariya calls, softer than the mandatory tone she used when motivating her staff into action. She wants you to feel comfortable, at ease. It’s the least you deserve after all that you’ve gone through… and probably what you’re going to face in the future.

At the mention of your name, you swirl your head towards her,

It is said that emotions are equally damaging to the mind as they are to the body, and this is evident by the way you physically appeared to be dispirited, deflated, undeniably beaten up by whatever Naoya attempted to do, as well as the addition of Naoaki’s seeming omission of truth.

You were trying your best to appear conscious and awake, when in reality, you wanted nothing more than to lay back down onto your futon and forget everything.  

An image that made Mariya’s pity for you heightened, hoping that her words will help you alleviate some kind of pressure from your heart.

"Yes?" You respond, droopy eyes focused dropping to your lap for a quick second, before going back up to Mariya’s.

"... Maybe it's not my place to say this but… I can't help but notice that there's something bothering you, outside of Naoya" she carefully threads "...and the twins"

Your eyes widen a fraction, coming to understand that the thing you wished to keep secret from your ladies was revealed due to the crystal clear reflection of your face.

Something you should've expected, for you don’t think you’ve ever felt this kind of heartbreak before. It was only obvious that it would manage to spill onto your façade. 

"It's about Naoaki, isn't it?" Mariya guesses, right in the bullseye.

"Am I that easy to read?" You ask with a labored chuckle, and Mariya gives you a tight smile. 

But should you tell her?

Should you confess the reason why you were so… out of it, wasn’t because of your husband’s already expected gruesome behavior, but rather, Jinichi’s unforeseen words, and the dismal implication behind them?

It was safe to say that you never expected another member of the Zen'in clan to approach you as freely as he did. Although you could arguably agree that it was you who placed yourself in that position to begin with, by willingly going into a room you were explicitly stated not to…

But then, of all things that could’ve been enacted on you for your trespassing... He did none . And instead, were faced with a somewhat comprehensive, yet mysterious, side of a Zen’in master that found it in himself to open up to you—leaving you in a confused state that continued to branch out until this moment.

The revealing of an unknown member of the Zen’in clan, who turned out to be none other than the infamous sorcerer killer was a statement hard to swallow on its own.

You could understand why the family was adamant in keeping this blemish out of their history, and consciences for that matter. 

But what you could not understand, and frightened you to a certain degree, wasn't the fact that a person like that existed. Evil rooted in all kinds of sharps and forms, with different catalysts and aims, indifferent to backgrounds or cultures.

It's the motivation that scares you.

To know that the Zen’in professedly unknowingly created a man who was capable of rendering the jujutsu community immobile with fear with the mere mention of his name… you couldn’t help but wonder the kind of atrocities he had to undergo through when he was still part of the clan.

Just how much pain, how much suffering , did he have to experience, before he finally reached his limit and decided to enact the same onto the society that failed him?

You believed to have heard the worst when Naoaki shared his upbringing with you—but with the addition of this unnamed, yet controversial, man… another thought arises.

Why had Naoaki never mentioned him? And what did Jinichi imply when he asked you about what Naoaki allegedly suffered at the hands of his family?

By the way Naoaki shared his story with you, and how the rest of the brothers never refuted his claims, he made it seem as if he were the only victim of this clan, with the exception of Naofumi, who was saved solely by the volition of his oldest brother.

That of course, was highly improbable because you had been a victim yourself, and undeniably, the rest of the women of this house as well—you didn’t have to go that far, Tomoko’s absence, Naoaki’s mother, spoke volumes of this statement. And Junko was living proof as well. Mai and Maki were on their way too…

If you were to be crude about it, women were in a different category when it came to the breakdown of the patriarchal system of this clan. In a way, it was expected to be treated wrongly.

It’s why you reacted so… vividly when Naoaki confessed his experiences. 

It broke down a wall you thought impenetrable, unmoving. A ground-shaking realization that the Zen’in clan wasn’t as black and white as you initially expected, opening your eyes to the rest of the victims around you and… understanding them.

But if that was the case… Why would Jinichi say that? Why would Jinichi imply that Naoaki struggles were somehow connected to his brothers?

Was there a possibility that… Naoaki was hiding something from you? Lying to you?

You hated to consider that possibility, but the cards were on the table and always being the one to consider all possibilities when it came to your discernment… you had to treat it as an option.

If so…

Why?

Why did he lie to you? 

And what could he possibly benefit from doing so?

You held no power in this place, not even with your ineffectual title of future the Lady of the House, nor did you think yourself as capable of fighting something that was clearly much bigger than you .

Nor did you have the intention to stay and see if your efforts would eventually take root.

There was not a single thing that he could obtain through you for his advantage, and if anything, his presence and background inspired you to become a better version of yourself, putting a halt to the putrefaction your soul was going through by staying in this place.

…

…

…

Yes, that had to be it.

The reason why you didn't find any sense behind Jinichi's words is because there really is nothing to it. 

Why would Naokaki have gone through the perilous ordeal of getting along with you —insistent even after you rejected multiple times— to the extent of helping you contact your sister… if he wanted to do you harm?

There were various moments where he would have acted against you if that was in his ethos, but he hadn’t, because he’s proven to not be that kind of person.

And yet, there is something nagging you in the back of your mind, preventing you from completely embracing this comforting statement. 

Because whether you’ve turned a blind eye to it or not, there have been many people in your surroundings that stated the exact opposite. Starting with Mariya’s ill words, and ending with Mai’s affrighted reaction.

All notions that easily implied Naoaki as one that you shouldn’t be around with, that he isn't one to trust, that he's going to place you in danger, and his interference is only going to ruin whatever poor relationship you have with your husband, and following that thread of thought, you’ve also been reminded that Naoya doesn't like him for a good reason.

Although you could pass up the last statement out of your mind, for your husband wasn’t known for being the most charismatic man in the estate.

But… the rest? 

Where did their allegations come from?

He seemed to have a better relationship with his brothers, and they seem to have a good relationship with him as well. at least that’s what you were able to deduce from the intermittent conversations you had with them as their duties allowed it, and whenever Naoaki’s name would be brought up.

You really didn't want to think about this. 

You didn't want to know about the possibility of Naoaki scheming, one way or the other, against you. 

It would be too… much for your poor heart to handle, which has suffered enough, to be betrayed by one you've considered close to you—but more than that. 

The one recipient of your affections .

The inner turmoil that your mind was struggling to come victorious out was becoming more and more difficult to contain in the realm of your thoughts proven by the way your lip trembled and your futile attempts to calm it down by biting into it, followed by the tightening grasp of your hands against your lap, trailing up to the watery corners of your eyes.

A sore vision that jolted Mariya into regret, moving her to mend her unwanted prying of your business.

"Lady Y/N, you don't have to tell me if–"

"Mariya" Your voice is stern, and direct, completely different to the quavering state of your body. Making the woman blink in confusion at the inconsistency before her. Something that went undisclosed even to you, as your mind solely focused on mustering the following, disquieting words.

A desperate attempt to be proven wrong.

"...Why would someone lie… about their experiences?"

Mariya frowns… confused by the origin or intention behind this question.

"Lie… about their experiences?" She repeats carefully, taking the time to ruminate on your words, as well as starting to see if she could somehow relate it to yesterday's incident. “I… don’t know… what do you mean?” 

"If you lied about them… why would you do so?" You changed the directive of your question, to make it more personal, easier to relate. “Or why would someone think you’ve done so?”

Mariya believes to understand your inquiry a bit better, but she’s still as confused as ever. However, that doesn’t stop her from answering, doing so under the pretense that perhaps this will unravel what’s been tormenting you.

"Maybe because I'm ashamed, humiliated" she begins truthfully "I would lie because… I don’t want others to remember the moment I felt at my weakest. But at the same time… one could lie to obtain something from others, that couldn’t be easily obtained in normal conditions—perhaps a favor, a better image, or manipulate them to my benefit"

Your heart winces at the last statement, forcing you to release a sharp gasp which does not escape Mariya's concerned gaze.

"Why? Why do you ask?” She says, leaning further into you as she uses the right sleeve of her kimono to wipe away one of the many tears that have begun to dribble down to your cheek, an intention that is rejected immediately by the turn of your head in the opposite direction “What…happened yesterday, Lady Y/N? Did Naoaki… do something to you?”

“What?” You gasp, quickly looking back at you “I—I…”

“Did he tell you something… hurtful?” She strikes once more, and you feel your heart twist.

“No—No, it’s not that, I just….” You shut your eyes tightly, looking away from her, immediately regretting implicitly admitting that Naoaki was the culprit behind your sorrowful reaction, followed by permitting this conversation to grow any bigger than it was necessary. 

Wanting to put an end to this topic, you decide your next course of action. “It’s just a thought that came to me this morning, that’s all. Nothing… to worry about”

And while your words might’ve been used to brush Naoaki under the rug, call this conversation concluded and move on… it did the exact opposite, serving as confirmation to Mariya that your current agitation was indeed because Naoaki had done something of treacherous nature.

It hurts to know that you do not trust her enough with all of the burdens your mind seems to be concealed with, but it hurts her even more to see that you were seemingly betrayed by the man you’ve seen to place all your trust in.

That, however, won’t stop her from acting as the friend she proclaimed to be. 

Hoping that she’d still be able of help, she decides to covertly give you a piece of advice on what to do in this situation —one that she was planning to put in action with a certain mother of two— and something that she hopes will help you overcome the obstacles that has your heart in shambles: whether you decide to place it in action with Naoaki or not, is completely up to you. 

And what’s up for her to decide is regarding if she’d be there to support whatever decision you take, and Mariya had already made up her mind.

"When… I used to be younger, I'd often hide my emotions" Mariya starts, accommodating her position next to you. "If someone did me wrong, I'd be devastated and seclude myself from everyone else. I wouldn't want to deal with them, relate, to them, talk. Nothing. I would take their actions as betrayal to my persona and that's it.

That is, until I met Tatsuro.

It's with him that I began to mature emotionally, for I realized that my actions not only were stripping me of a deserved conclusion, but also hurting those around me.

He hated when I would remain silent, keep everything to myself. Sure, he'd ignore me too whenever we got into a fight, but after all was said and done… his emotions were still there for me. And mine for him as well."

She sighs, proceeding to gently move one of the many strands of hair laying on your face and back to their respective place, a gesture that you uniquely begin to find ease in, allowing part of your tension to evaporate with her touch.

“I guess what I mean to say is… communication is primordial. No matter the subject, it's always good to have a conversation with others when there's something affecting you.

More so if you believe to be lied to" she reaffirms "it's a fragile matter to believe that your trust has been breached, and I would understand why many would rather break off all contact than continue on, but…

It's hard to give up on someone, more so when you've grown attached to them"

You blink, slowly taking in her words.

"You deserve to be told the truth, respected" Mariya concludes "If there's something that I’ve learned in my life, it is that the one thing liars don’t expect to ever experience is confrontation for their deceit. They believe that their web of lies is set on a concrete foundation, to the point that the possibility of them facing the truth seems impossible. However, that’s not always the truth, and when their insincerity is exposed, it's one's job to confront it. So there's that…

Anyways, communication has always been the best way to deal with these kinds of situations, as frightening as it sounds… but I reassure you, talking things over is much healthier than keeping them inside. Or acting on them” She gives you a smile “When you feel ready for them, of course! At the end of the day, you have to do what’s best for you ” Mariya ends by fixing the collar of your nightgown with a soft tug, before gently patting your head.

And as much as it hurts you…

She was right.

Mariya was speaking nothing but the truth when she shared this piece of advice with you, which simply reminded you with the fact that you had to confront Naoaki about Jinichi’s statement.

The truth was never easy to seek, less to assimilate. More so when the relationship you had with the other party involved was at risk.

You find it hard to believe that you’d ever find yourself in this kind of position with Naoaki, more so when all that he’s ever done is make you happy, aside from that small moment he made you angry with his crude comments, but he’d come to realize the wrongful ways of his words and apologize. 

This thought only made you realize the thing that you’ve wanted to avoid for the sake of your happiness, and that is, the fact that you placed him on a pedestal, perhaps out of your necessity to latch onto the only provider of peace, tranquility, that you've been able to find in this location. You were willing to look past mistakes, imperfections, if it meant you’d keep this beacon of stability.

But to go down this path was no correct way to live. If you forced yourself to oversee this problem, what else were you allowing to escape your sights?

It’s an eye-opening moment that leaves you quietly admitting that, for the second time yet, you don't know Naoaki as well as you think you do.

Just as Mariya forewarned, it wasn’t right to allow the pressuring presence of your husband to root them down in inaction. They had to remain quick on their feet, and faster in their senses, thus, once you and your staff were judiciously cleaned and dressed up for the day, they made it their task to continue on as if nothing had happened, and that was to be by starting with the first part of their daily routine: make breakfast.

Stepping out of your room and subsequently walking towards the kitchen was an action that you’ve taken for granted for the course of your stay here, something that you’ve done almost as second nature—but now that the circumstances were different… it was anything but that.

More so when your group realized they not only had to worry about Naoya, but with the presence of the rest of the staff as well.

Gossip and the servants was something Mariya liked to call… like moths to a flame. Whenever there was something new, interesting , or controversial, they were the first ones to place their hands on it and subsequently, spread it like wildfire to all the corners of the estate. 

In fact, such was their diligence that even the master of the house approached them to obtain the newest announcements—although in a less than notorious way, for they rather die than be caught mingling with those of inferior ranks.

And last night’s situation was to be no different, judging by Haruko’s and Hitomi’s relay. 

Hearsay sparked when one of the servants realized your ladies were coming from your room, contrary to their assigned dormitories, as well as noticing the frightened looks in their faces and their muted murmurs to one another.

From there, the onlooker began to theorize that something awful must’ve occurred to have your ladies stay in your bedroom—drastically different from their initial expectation of you staying in your husband’s chambers.

Taking this into consideration, it was almost natural to expect that it wouldn’t take long before the whole estate had its eyes on you, and subsequently, judge you for attacking their master.

You didn’t expect last night’s successions to go under their radar, of course not. Not when they were already known for being nosy and your husband wasn’t known for being secretive when enraged. 

It was only a matter of seconds before you were ambushed by their ostracizing comments, just as they’ve done in the past, where they would call you an inadequate wife. 

Oh, you couldn’t imagine what would happen once they saw that you actually scratched his face and probably left a visible scar for everyone to admire. You’d probably be called hysterical as well.

It was distressing to anticipate such a childish thing, but you and your staff knew well to prepare for it.

As you and your staff kept walking towards the kitchen, the presage of someone rushing to call you all kinds of names was beginning to weigh heavier, and heavier, as servants continued to pass you by, glancing ever so occasionally up to you (but without saying any word) and continued on as if nothing happened, but you knew differently— they were perhaps holding back their comments because they have yet to see Naoya’s state.

And when they did, hell would break loose.

A theory that only gained even more weight when you eventually bumped into the familiar, gloomy face of Junko.

At least she was honest with her opinions about you at this moment.

“Y/N, care to explain what happened yesterday?” She said, skipping through the usual cordial meetings she’d give you whenever working together. Her face was riddled with annoyance, disappointment, but most of all, impatience. 

Junko couldn’t wait to hear the kind of poor excuse you’d give for your performance last night, which she had been informed of thanks to the nightly staff who had observed your frantic escapade out of your husband’s chambers, as well as your ungodly shriek in the middle of the night, before you disappeared into the halls. 

“Uh, I—” you stammered, unprepared to face Junko in this particular moment, for your emotions were still in a turmoil of your own. You were both… confused and betrayed by her action, but at the same time, you were worried for her and her daughters.

Mariya, however understanding she might be, had been holding on to her displeasure towards Junko’s sneakiness , and this moment could’ve not have arrived in any better moment.

“Do you care to explain what happened yesterday?!” Mariya snapped at Junko, placing herself between the two women to keep her gaze away from yours. “What a remarkable way to disrespect my lady after all that she’s done for you and your daughters!”

“Me? And my daughters?” Junko frowns “I had let her know that it was under my own jurisdiction that I allowed this relationship to move forward!”

“Is that so?” Mariya seethes “And might there be a reason why your daughters want to be with her?”

“M—Mariya, that’s enough—” you attempt to break the tension between the two bickering women, to no avail. 

“It was a low blow , Junko-san” Mariya continued “Even for you . The least you should’ve done was inform us of Naoya-sama’s return”

“And what for?” Junko counters “Y/N ended up doing what she wanted, didn’t she?”

And you couldn’t argue that, causing you to look away in shame, much to Junko’s favor.

But Mariya wasn’t going to let that slide.

“She did what she had to ” She responded “And we’re here to do the same. I presume you already know what transpired yesterday?”

“I’ve only heard rumors, I have yet to receive confirmation via Y/N, or Naoya-sama” Junko scowled.

“Then you must know how gullible Naoya-sama is when irked” Mariya asses “He has threatened to hurt you, and the twins, after my lady defended herself against him”

This comment, as much as Mariya intended it to be laid down in a compassionate manner, only felt to Junko like a bucketful of ice cold water, which at the same time, served to further ignite the fire settling in the pit of her stomach.

“Ah, so do you expect me to applaud her lapse, that also puts us in danger?”

“No” Mariya seethes “I expect you to behave accordingly and work with us! Or do you prefer to take Naoya’s threat alone?”

Junko frowns. She doesn’t want to grant credibility to Mariya’s words, but deep inside, she knows that she won’t be able to stand by herself when it comes to confronting her husband’s nephew, less to prevent him from further hurting her daughters, if he'd set sights on her.

There’s no denying that the mother of two is very discontented with your actions—for a lack of better words.

If it were to her, and she didn’t have any threat looming over her, she’d hand you directly to Naoya, regardless of whatever relationship you had with her daughters. You might behave gracefully around her, around her daughters, and even with the rest of the staff, but at the end of the day, you had to know your place in this estate: underneath the men of this family. 

You couldn’t outrank your husband, nor anyone else for that matter, your sole purpose is to serve this family, just as the women before you had done.

But at the same time… Junko can’t help but linger in the thought that, after everything you’ve done, you still want to protect her and her daughters. Anyone else would have ditched them to take the fall, just as she’d experienced in the past, just how Mai and Maki were on route to experience as well.

If you were willing to help them out, then maybe she should—

Ugh, what was she thinking ?!

Allowing you to pull her into your modern feminist antics will only get her and her daughters in deeper danger! More than you already did!

Had you really considered the consequences of your actions, you would’ve done your part and remained quiet as Naoya demanded you to do whatever it was that he wanted, instead of whatever it is that you did!

Junko considered herself to be patient enough while you adjusted to the ways of your new family, but you’ve been here for a while now and it was time that you got a grip.

And if you didn’t, then she would!

Thus, without entertaining Mariya’s question any longer, the woman decides to go around your prime lady-in-waiting and head directly towards you in a rather aggressive movement that has you going pale on the spot, permitting her to place her hand over your arm and begging to drag you towards the opposite direction of the kitchen, or whatever she could before Mariya and the rest of your staff jumped in to stop her.

“What are you doing, Junko?! Unhand my Lady right this instance!” Mariya cries as she uses her body as some kind of blockade to prevent Junko from dragging you further away from your initial spot.

You use this moment as an opportunity to escape from Junko’s grasp, which you achieved after a few harsh tugs against her. 

Once free, you rushed to Haruko’s side, who wasted no second to place herself before you to prevent the chasing hands of Junko from grabbing you once more, as you stared back at the woman in disbelief.

“I’ve permitted this madness to go on far longer than necessary” Junko frowns “If Naoya-sama wants to punish her, then so be it. But I won’t sacrifice my well-being for hers! Maybe he can finally make her understand what her role in this place is!”

“Wait, Junko-san!” You cry as you step back and away from her agitated reach, further and further away from your ladies as soon as you realize that this woman had no intentions of stopping until she achieved what she wanted.

It hurt you even more to see that Junko hadn’t even been willing to hear your part of the story, nor did it look like she actually cared for it. All things considered, it appears that you’ve also miscalculated the depths of your supposed friendship with her, and you know that from this very moment forward, you won’t be able to see Mai and Maki ever again.

A treacherous thought that you couldn’t linger on any more, for your mind was abruptly stopped by you accidentally slamming into someone—a presence comparable to a rock, which had you and the rest of the women freezing on the spot as one of them released a sharp gasp of surprise.

Considering everything that both parties have been discussing, your mind is quick to jump to the worst conclusion of this being your moment of judgment, the apocalypse in question, the eventual moment you’d bump into your husband…

Until you look up.

“Jinichi-sama” Junko is the first to acknowledge the person in question by bowing down in her place. The rest of your staff do the same, out of protocol and fear for the sudden addition of an unwanted onlooker. Your staff is hasty to replicate her mannerisms with a quick nod of their own, however, their eyes couldn’t depart from your figure, hindered by the burning remembrance of your altercation with another member of the family. 

The struggles you carried were already too much for you to handle, Jinichi shouldn’t be another addition to your already heavy mind.

However, their reaction wouldn’t have been as tumultuous had you let them know you’ve already become acquainted with him, although in a less than desirable situation, and with a conversation that effectively stripped sleep from your body.

Taking this into consideration, you’re unable to do anything else but remain still in your position as you attempt to remove the uneasy sensation his presence brought to you once more, and his words while at it.

After you excuse yourself from his brother’s room, which he agreed to for it was becoming too late for any to be awake, you thought that had been the end of this interaction. You didn’t want to see him again, nor did you think you’d see him considering he’d always been the distant one and that was an arrangement you could get behind. 

He’d probably show his true colors if you ever got to see him in a different environment, and that was something that you wanted to avoid at all costs.

And yet, you fail to realize that you weren’t the only one affected by last night’s conversation, evident by the way he decided to approach your incident. Instead of reproaching you for not being careful and observing your steps, he decided to gently place his study hands over your shoulders and carefully moved you to the side, a gesture that has your ladies mouth falling agape, whilst Junko’s eyes widen as big as possible.

“Careful, little one ” He says once he deems you out of danger from falling “It could be a servant carrying something the next time, and then, you won’t have someone to help you”

“I—“ you stammer, your face was debating whether to turn red out of embarrassment for his nickname , or pale in fear for stumbling into him; but whichever you choose, both render you speechless either way  “I’m sorry” you eventually muster, bowing down to him as to emphasize your apology.

“We’re at hand now” Is all that he says to your apology, a sentence that rises your ladies and Junko’s concern to an alarming level “Goodbye, Y/N”

You don’t know if he’s mocking you, being cordial, or… well, whatever it was, but before you’re able to say anything else thanks to the knot in your throat, he’s already gone back to his route, disappearing in a matter of seconds.

Leaving you with the alarmed yet intrigued faces of your ladies, Junko, and the rest of the staff that had been distraught over this uncommon situation. 

Upon noticing the heavy gazes of your staff, your eyes fall back to them, unable to muster up any explanation to their questions, which you know will come in a matter of seconds.

But even if you were willing to give look for answer, the additional presence of other onlookers is quick to remind you of your position—and the fact that your incident had been witnesses by more people than you would’ve liked, forcing you to drench in humiliation as your staff quickly decides to retreat into the kitchen to avoid gossip to spark any greater than it already done. 

Thus, you bid your farewell to Junko whilst Mariya promised to continue their conversation, before going back to their previous route and leaving the mother of two alone.

It’s when Junko sets eyes on your distancing group that she begins to wonder, after noticing your seemingly amicable relationship with Jinichi, if maybe… she should’ve considered your suggestion.

"Are you sure you don't want anything else?" Haruko quietly asks as she looks over to your plate, which has continued to remain largely untouched ever since she placed it before you.

Had it not been for her occasional glances, which revealed the shy work of your chopsticks picking and moving the food around, with some of it even being brought to your mouth, she would’ve assumed you hadn't eaten anything at all.

To see that her efforts weren’t enough to distract you, and incite the usual appreciative behavior you’d always give her when eating her food made her feel… well, as if she had been lacking on her duties, leading her to question if she had done anything wrong in particular?

Did she cook the salmon wrong? Or had the soup gone too cold to eat? Or did you perhaps want something different, but she never figured out what because she forgot to ask?

It’s clear that your mood turned to the worst when Jinichi suddenly appeared, a moment in which she had remained silent, in hopes of not ruining this eerie calm morning. But even then, she knew that wasn’t the thing that affected you the most.

If Haruko had to put both options in the scale of your concern, she knew that it would lean more into your husband. And she wishes to alleviate your worries one way or another! But if you didn’t find it in yourself to trust her with these topics, then… What could she do?

Food was her only comfort, but that didn’t seem to work.

Maybe her own worry about this whole ordeal led to her cooking skills being affected… a less than desirable predicament that she’d begun to machinate various ways to mend.

That, of course, had been nothing more than silly assumptions. Unfounded thoughts that failed to consider that, more than her skills being affected (which they weren’t), the emotional turmoil you were going through personally led for a void to be created on your stomach, unwilling to be filled with the food of Haruko’s making.

You knew her to be an excellent cook, probably the best you’ve ever met, but after last night’s successions, today’s conversation with Mariya, Jinichi’s sudden interference, and the imminent confrontation that you are to have with Naoaki, without even adding your husband to the mix once more… you just couldn’t find her food appetizing enough to incite your hunger.

If anything, the knot forming in your throat wanted to make you puke.

A symptom you knew that wouldn’t disappear until… well, you came to a conclusion to what you considered to be the biggest concern at the moment, and that was, Naoaki.

Or that’s what you hoped.

Because even if your husband represented a big threat by himself, you could care less for his character.

Naoaki was the one you cared for, that much you knew. And to not trust him in this delicate time…?

Ah, why did Jinichi have to appear and remind you of this conflict? He had to disrupt your night, as well as the only opportunity you’d have to talk with Junko, before being pulled away from the public eye and onto the kitchen.

This level of unresolved problems pushes you to finally put an end to this unproductive meal, at least out of respect for your worrisome cook who kept tormenting herself for your actions.

"No, it's fine" you sigh, placing your chopsticks to the side "I'm not… that hungry"

"Oh… I'm sorry" Haruko quietly laments, heart aching when she sees you place your utensils to the side, signaling her that you've officially given up on eating her food.

"Don’t worry about it, your food is as good as ever, but it's just that… I'm not feeling that well" you confess.

"I know" Haruko responds, already foreseeing this admission "...maybe you’d like something sweet?"

"You know something’s wrong when not even sweets catch my attention" you attempt to joke, but it only comes out as a gloomy commentary of your present situation, more so when you see Haruko’s face drop “Ah, I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry" 

“I wish you didn’t have to go through that” She muses. “Or anyone…”

“It’s only…. Temporary” you attempt to reassure “Before we even notice, it will all be gone”

“… you think so?” Haruko fearfully ponders “Everyone seems to be acting weird… almost as if they’ve already gone through the storm that’s coming” 

“Well, It’s… probably because things weren’t going exactly as planned, but that doesn’t mean it’s wrong” You attempt to console once more, help one of the women that have cared for you ever since you arrive to the estate “Change is frightening, specially for those that do not want to partake in it. But you’ll see, we’ll survive. After all, we already survived the worst part, didn’t we?”

“… yeah” Haruko smiles, feeling a bit more at ease. “I guess so”

At the notion of her relaxing in your presence, you can't help but give her a small smile, at least you're able to successfully calm down someone of your closest. 

Hitomi seems able to control her nerves a bit better, thanks to the cold and collected image she always seemed to portray with you—however, that doesn’t mean she’s not worried, and if there’s one thing that you’ve grown to learn about the sisters, is that what one feels, the other shows.

Mariya, on the other hand, perhaps because of all that she's expected to tend for, is the one that doesn't show her worries at all. The most you've seen her afflicted by this whole thing was regarding Junko, which you understood why–you were feeling the same after all! Even if you believed that her conversation was something that could’ve been handled a bit differently, the intention remained.

But other than that, the uncertainty of what’s to happen has everyone at the edge of their seat; the only ones that you have yet to discuss their well being (as well as being the only ones that you can actually contact, your clan is physically out of the question) are the twins and Naoaki, and you’re already planning to have a conversation with the first, which leads you to ask…

“Have you seen Mai or Maki?” You ask, to which Haruko sighs.

“Not really” she shakes her head “Knowing that you’d want to know about them, I rushed to check their bedrooms, but it seems that their mother already won me to it, for they weren’t there… My best bet is that she woke them up early and put them to work as soon as she got the idea that something bad happened between you and your husband …” 

For someone that rejected your idea of help and seemed to be so against your actions, she is behaving quite the contrary.

Well, you couldn’t blame her for taking  preemptive action. In fact, you were happy that even with this small disagreement between the three, she still found it in herself to protect her children. You’d do the same if you ever had the fortune of having kids of your own.

“I see…” you respond, eyes falling down to your plate “Well, if you do get to see them, just tell them that everything will be alright. I’ll make sure of that” you promise, pushing yourself up from the floor. 

“Where are you going, Lady Y/N?” Haruko jolts, finding an eerie familiarity to your words from last night, the ones you muttered as you were sent off to your husband’s room.

“To… check something” you respond, avoiding giving any more details than necessary. 

And while Haruko was used to remaining quiet and allowing you to do whatever it was that you desired, for such was her duty as your lady-in-waiting, Mariya’s resonating words, and her necessity to oversee your safety (as well as her fear of solitude) prompted her to act differently.

“Ah, let me get this out of the way then, and I’ll accompany you” she says as she reaches out for your plate.

“Oh, no, that won’t be necessary” And Haruko falters.

“But Mariya-san…” she hesitates.

“I know…” you look away for a second, before glancing up to her “I know what she said, but… this is something that I need to do alone”

“You’re going to see Naoaki-sama, isn’t it?” Haruko eventually guesses and you press your lips together, you’re starting to dislike how you’re opting to wear your heart on your sleeve nowadays.

“Yes” you finally reveal, finding it futile to cover so if your secret is already out “I… there’s something that I want to talk about with him”

“... are you sure you want to go alone?” Haruko asks, and it does nothing to calm the already contentious storm of emotions you felt, and while her question might’ve been nothing more to narrow down the possibilities of facing Naoya on your own, your mind can’t help but interpret it as distrust towards Naoaki.

“Yes” You nod “I… need to do this by myself”

“I see” Haruko frowns “...does Mariya-san at least know?”

If you have to consider her earlier advice, and the fact that Haruko was quick enough to divine what you’re intending… it was only safe to assume that she already knew that you’d eventually reach out to Naoaki.

“...not really” you answer “But… she must be having an idea by now”

Haruko is out of questions, or perhaps motivations to keep you there if you’ve already made up your mind, thus, without anything else to question, she concedes.

“Take care” she says, picking up your plate “But if you need anything please be sure to tell me, my sister, or Mariya, Lady Y/N!”

“I will, Haruko. Thank you.” You give her a smile, making way to the exit “By the way… I thought I already told you to stop calling me lady , it makes me feel old” you say, hoping that a new level of familiarity will further ease her nerves, as well as yours.

“But you are a lady” She pouts “At least to me”

“But I also want to be your friend” you respond “And I feel like lady … alienates me from you”

Haruko blushes “I… also want to be your friend” she looks away, cheeks flushed.

“Then it’s set, Haruko-chan” You grin “If… that’s fine with you”

“Of course it is” She grins back “Y/N-chan!”

You chuckle, reassurance before the storm makes your heart flutter. “Thank you… Haruko”

“I’ll see you in a bit, then” Haruko responds.

“See you around. Wish me luck”

And she does, but more than luck, she wished for your well being.

The first thing you do once exiting the kitchen is head straight away to the direction you assume Naoaki to be—if he ever came back home last night.

With all the things that happened since yesterday to this point, you weren’t given much time to think about Naoaki and his point of view about everything.

Did he even know Naoya came back? Perhaps he was assuming he was going to eventually… or did it also slip his mind, just as it did yours?

A part of you wishes to believe that he wouldn’t intentionally leave you had he known that his younger brother, your tormentor, was coming back, however… After Jinichi’s words come to light, your mind can’t help but delve into that possibility.

But at the same time, the other side of the coin was to be considered. It was selfish to expect such a level of loyalty from him, considering he was held to a higher commitment when it came to the clan and its duties—he had that final paperwork to sign, the same one that he’s expressed to you on more than one occasion how eager he is to get it done with.

From what you know of his character… Naoaki wouldn’t intentionally leave you in the grasps of your abuser. Which makes you wonder, had he stayed behind… what would’ve happened? Would he had… rescued you from Naoya’s terrorizing antics?

…Yes, he would. 

Of course he would, why would he not? He… he’s shown you that he’s not one to partake in allowing the suffering of others, such as when he stood up from his brother Naofumi, or how he came to your aid when the servants were talking ill of you.

But a premise that you once held so sure, close to your heart, had crumbled thanks to Jinichi’s devious words. And your heart ached by each step you took closer to your destination, as the notion of this being a lie, hurt you enough for your eyes to start watering.

Now all that was left to do once you arrived back at the living quarters was to give one sharp turn, before making way through another hallway and onto Naoaki’s bedroom, which you accomplished swiftly, but perhaps a bit too… belligerent, due to your tormented state of mind, filled with a whirlwind of thoughts which hindered the awareness of your surroundings, blocking the view of the man rushing towards you and tackling you on the spot.

At the eerie déjà vu, you’re unable to stop the quick gasp of desperation from escaping your lips as your eyes jolted up to immediately identify the man you’ve made another transgression to, and act appropriately—all whilst you frightfully, desperately pleaded that it hadn’t been your husband this time.

An observation that made you realize you’d live to die another day, for the one that had bumped into you was the same one you were looking for.

“Y/N!” Naoaki breathed, placing his hand on your shoulders as if to hold you in position as soon as he came into contact with you. Maybe to make sure you weren't an illusion, or because the frightening, fragile pale look on your face, as well as the brusque way he met you, gave him the impression that you were to crumble any moment now  “Y/N are you ok? I—I’m so sorry, I didn’t know my brother was returning yesterday, had I known I would’ve stayed here! I just learned from Naofumi that Naoya returned!”

He rambles before proceeding to pull you into his chest, arms tightly draped around you as he continues to push you impossibly closer to him, a gesture that has your heart beating loudly against your chest at the same time you seem to lose all air from your lungs due to the binding of his action.

“Y/N—” Naoaki murmurs “I’m so sorry that I wasn’t there to protect you—Had I known… I… I wouldn’t have let you alone”

You wish to say that his hug was well received, and in a way… it was. 

His embrace was something that you’ve longed to experience for as long as you can remember. And now that it was finally here, you just wanted to be taken in by his presence and… be joyful.

But it’s not meant to happen yet. At least not when you still have Jinichi’s implications stabbing you on the back over and over again, and they’d continue on to do so, for as long as you allowed this mystery to remain unsolved.

Knowing well what you’re required to do, you murmur against his hold.

“Naoaki” you say, muffled due to his adamant effort in keeping you glued against him—almost as if he were afraid of letting you go, for doing so would only mean you getting hurt again. A realization that only made your heart ache even more. “Naoaki…”

You call once more, but he doesn’t seem to hear you.

It’s only in the third call of his name that he finally allows himself to peel away from you, releasing you from the prison of his arms, a moment you take to walk one, two steps away from him, before looking up to his face.

Upon seeing your imposed distance, Naoaki's face shifts into one of anguish, for all that he wanted to do is hold you in his arms and reassure you that everything was going to be ok. But judging your actions, he knows that he can’t promise you that. And he’s quick to point fingers at Naoya’s actions, completely unaware that your reaction had been a consequence of him being caught in the crossfire.

“I’m sorry” he eventually expresses, hoping that his words would give you the impression that at least he meant no harm towards you “I just… Please, tell me... are you ok? Did he hurt you?”

You swallow, a knot forming in your throat as you recount the horrible things your husband attempted to do, but failed to do so thanks to your sudden change of mind.

Your silence is enough for his face to sour immediately into a scowl, regretting that he ever left the house.

“He did, didn’t he?” he seethe “Naoya hu—”

“No” you shake your head, interrupting him before he spiraled down deeper into his anger and… well, did something that could only worsen your current situation. “He… tried, but I didn’t let him”

“Y/N…” he breathes in anguish “Are you ok? What happened?”

“I don’t want to talk about it” you look away, and Naoaki understands to not ponder any further, limiting himself to only imagine what atrocities occurred while he was unaware. 

“I’m sorry” Naoaki said once more “I… I knew I shouldn’t have left—If only I had—”

“It’s not your fault” you responded, now looking back at him. His face was evident of his thoughts, and now… you could openly acknowledge that he was telling the truth. 

Naoaki didn’t genuinely know that Naoya was to return yesterday, and why would he? You, his wife, was kept in the dark about it. Why would he, someone who has a worse relationship with him, be any different?

Even if an itch remained to bother you in the back of your mind, you could at least recognize that a weight had been lifted from your heart. Naoaki’s care for you was genuine.

Which only made Jinichi’s words gain more magnitude.

You had to get to the bottom of this, now .

“Naoaki” you call once more, his eyes still on yours as if to show you had his full attention. “Can we… talk?”

“Of course” he says without further questioning. Naoaki has come to the understanding that right now, more than his admittance of ignorance, you need his support . And that was something he was going to give you unconditionally, even if it meant undoing your friendship with him  “Have you eaten already? Do you want something to eat first maybe?”

“No, I… want to talk to you first” And by the swift way you shoot down his request, he’s left with the impression that it was of the utmost priority to have this conversation, thus, he silently follows you towards a more appropriate location to sit down and talk,—on the engawa , just by the adjacent garden.

He wishes to say that he knows what you’re going to bring up, but the reality was vastly different.

Naoaki was as blank as he could be, since the staff around him barely told him anything —receiving most of his information from the brothers that stayed behind— besides how angered Naoya seemed to be when he finally decided to wake up and leave his chambers, as well as the mysterious scratch on his face, and how startled you seem to look after everything that allegedly occurred, worsening when you accidentally bumped into Jinichi.

It was safe to say that Naoaki was confused, but above all, he was concerned for you.

Nonetheless, he wouldn’t have to wait long before you’d begin to explain your side of the story.

You take a deep breath as you feel Naoaki’s gaze linger on you. The more time passes, the more… unsure you felt about talking about this topic.

But just as Mariya said, this was something that only communication could solve—and it was better to attack it now, rip it like a band aid, before it got too much to handle and destroy whatever relationship… feelings, you thought you had for him.

“Y/N… is everything ok?” Naoaki is the first one to speak upon seeing your concerned yet muted profile: brows furrowed, lips bitten, you were the epitome of someone who was too afraid to step forward and do what was needed to do, but knew that had to be done anyways. “You don’t have to if you don’t feel like it…”

“Naoaki” you eventually speak up, looking at him. Your eyes, while watery thanks to the iciness of his betrayal, were fiery enough to determine you were serious about your next words  “Have you ever… lied to me?”

“Lied?” Naoaki blinks, eyes squinting at the staggering, unexpected question. To say that he was confused was an understatement, but far from that, he’s grown far more… uneasy “…No, I haven’t” 

“…About… anything?” You ponder, inexplicably starting to believe that he is lying to you. Was it the skeptical tone that he used to answer you? Or was it your predisposition to believe otherwise, regardless of what he told you? Or perhaps the saintly implication of being above lying?

“Nothing, I swear” And it’s the way that he responds critically quickly that the alarms in your head are set off.

“…Even about… Jinichi’s brother?”

“Jinichi’s brother?” Naoaki asks back, his tone giving the impression that he was… offended by your accusation. However, the roots of his emotions are found somewhere else: presumably by believing he couldn’t be more confused than he already was, and yet, here he was. “What does he have to do with… anything ?”

You’d help him out with some context.

“…After I… left Naoya… I quickly decided that he would be following, so, I started looking for a place to hide” you explain “I eventually stumbled into this… abandoned room, that turned out to be none other than Jinichi’s brother”

Naoaki frowns, unsure where this was going, or how it had to do anything with him—a reaction you quickly understood and rushed to explain.

“It’s there when I stumbled into Jinichi, or more like he stumbled onto me”

Now it’s Naoaki’s turn to grow irritated.

“Why was Jinichi following you?” He scowls “What was he intending on meeting you in the middle of the night, alone?” his eyes widened, something dark glossing over his gaze “Did he— Did he do something to you?”

“What?! No… no!” you shake your head, disgusted at the implication, and irritated by what you portrayed as attempts of avoiding the topic “Although I do have to admit that I was a bit… frightened to see he was following me, and I won’t say that I didn’t consider he was planning something” although never of that nature, you wished to add “But… I was surprised when he didn’t”

“He didn’t?” Naoaki raised an eyebrow, was this a lucid dream? “Even after you entered his brother’s room?”

“Look, I know I shouldn’t have but… I was scared. I didn’t know what to do, where to go. I wanted to go with you but… I didn’t even know if you were here yet, and Naoya must’ve assumed that I was going to rush back to my bedroom first so… that’s where I ended up going to” you continued “And that’s when Jinichi… told me something that… worried me”

“What did he tell you?” Naoaki cautions, unsure what was Jinichi’s intentions behind his presence in the first place, or subsequent words, that he didn’t need to ponder any further to understand that they were given to you in the worst time yet, when you were clearly not in the right state of mind. 

«What the hell were you thinking, Jinichi?» Naoaki resentfully curses.

“…That he had a brother who casually held the title of…  the sorcerer killer” you reveal, and Naoaki’s eyes widened, but you don’t presume out of shock, he must’ve known about him. 

It’s what you believe to see that hurts you 

“He then proceeded to tell me that…he… his brother was forced to endure all kinds of atrocious things, things that he himself had to perform on him” You replayed with much disgust “Things that he first made me guess if I could wonder what he had been forced to do… before changing the question… implying that you… took his mistreatment and used it as your own”

Naoaki isn’t able to hide the blatant disdain in his face by the way his brow presses together and his lip twists. It’s so evident to him now that Jinichi’s intentions weren’t well natured by trying to make the most of your already bad situation. Of all nights that he could have this conversation, he decided that night to be the best.

Ah, but what did he expect from his relatives? 

Their imprudent minds wouldn’t know how to treat a person going through a difficult stage, less someone of your kindness, even if their life depended on it.

He’d stated it once, and he’ll state it again: kindness is not a word found in their lexicon, and certainly not something they were capable of recognizing, presumably confusing it with some kind of curse and exterminating it immediately.

But his disdain wouldn’t last long upon realizing that amongst the turbulence of emotions your eyes reflected, sadness was also found.

Despair for facing the possibility of his betrayal, of his deceit. Something that Naoaki resents having to see in the eyes of his beloved.

He’s long given up caring if he disappointed others, but you… not you. 

You’re different. You’re not like the others— you’re the only one he cares for.

And it would destroy him to see those same judgmental eyes he’s only received from his family throughout his whole life… coming from you.

“Y/N” Naoaki begins, his voice is soft, hesitant. Hoping that you’d be willing to hear his part of the story, and… give him a second chance. "I can't assess Jinichi's words or actions, or whatever it was that he was attempting to tell you, but I can for mine. And all I can say is that what I ever told you was my truth, my story. What I experienced personally, through my own eyes”

You look away.

“... Then… why would Jinichi say that?” you muse “Why would he imply that you’re… lying to me?”

“I wish I could tell you but…” Naoaki sighs “I really don’t know. I’m surprised that he even opened up to you about his brother, but at the same time, there’s an aura coming from you that just radiates… tranquility, anyone would—”

You frown, uninterested in hearing his heartwarming compliments at this particular moment, and he’s quick to catch the message, prompting him back on route.

“It wouldn’t be the first time one of my relatives has said hurtful things about me. But coming from Jinichi…well, I'm not surprised.

If I were him, I wouldn’t have approached you the moment he did… but he’s not known for being prudent, or shy when it comes to portraying his thoughts. Yes, he’s reserved, but when he’s not, he’s very blunt” he pauses, looking at the garden before him “I have to say that I’m hurt by the way he’d told you these things… but even then, I can’t find myself to consider it out of ill intention. All I can think is that he feels guilty that he couldn’t do much for his brother, and seeing you in his room probably made him remember that”

Just as Jinichi told you. Seeing you in his brother’s room gave the impression that it wasn’t abandoned, that his brother was still (even if it was by an outsider)  present in the clan’s memory— as his brother , and not the infamous sorcerer killer.

Taking that into consideration, you could understand why the sight of you proved too much for his heart to contain, proceeding to share the thoughts that weighed him down, before returning to the secrecy of his everyday life.

But it still doesn’t answer why he interrogated you on what Naoaki told you.

“But… why would he imply something else?” you repeat once more, now looking back at Naoaki “...And why didn’t you tell me you had another cousin? One that suffered the same… if not worse than you?”

“Because it wasn’t my story to tell, Y/N” he explains “My cousin has been stripped of many things that eventually lead him to renounce the clan and… turn into what he did. I didn’t want to strip him of his voice as well”

Your heart cowers.

“...I didn’t mean to make it sound as if I were the sole victim, consume all of your pity, if that’s what’s troubling your mind” Naoaki says, looking back to you and leaning closer “Nor to compare myself to him—but you must’ve guessed by now, my cousin endured far worse than I did, because at one point… I was forced to hurt him as well”

You pale.

“What… what do you mean?” You say with a tremble on your voice.

“I was young, stupid. I guess I still am, but back then… I wanted my father’s approval so much that I was willing to do whatever he asked me to do” Naoaki confesses “I didn’t think much of it, a simple order to follow… until I saw the fear in his eyes. That’s the moment I decided to stay away from him and… throw myself further into training. I don’t think my father intended it to be a common occurrence, for he didn’t say much when I rejected his invitations, presumably because there were already other people tormenting my poor cousin, Jinichi included…”

To think about the things Naoaki was subjected to, just to obtain the favor of his father (who should've been given to him unconditionally) as well as the confirmation of Jinichi’s involvement in his brother’s banishment… Well, it was easy to say that no amount of anticipation could calm the knot in your throat.

“The world is not as simple… as many want it to be. I wish it was, but… that’d be like breathing underwater, that’s simply not possible. However, I can say that there are people that enjoy the rush of having the livelihood of others in their hands, just like my father had always bragged… and now, Naoya”

You frown.

“Did… he also hurt your cousin?” You dreadfully ask. You don’t know why, since you could already presume the kind of answer he’d give you. Perhaps you just wanted to know how more despicable your husband could possibly get.

“No, I don’t think so” Naoaki responds “Naoya was too young when he was still around. But in the end, what he couldn’t do to him, he did to others, and with father’s stamp of approval, so I don’t think it makes that much of a difference”

It’s the same story all over again.

Those higher up in the hierarchy always took great pleasure from the suffering of those underneath them, whether limiting their income to make them solely dependent on them, exploiting their work — making overall life impossible… it’s nothing you haven’t seen or heard of before. 

You’ve seen it happen with your sister, and the way that she was forced to undergo an arrangement she never once desired, simply for the good of the clan and the Gojo’s, to subsequently offering her entire life for the good of others via the jujutsu community and how they’d exploit her willingness to serve them by overworking her, without giving an occasional thank you … 

Or your parents, and the terrible ordeals they had to endure when they were a recently wedded couple; which you know to only be the tip of the iceberg, for there are many things you have yet to uncover about their past… but your father has opted to keep them tightly secured in the confines of his memories in honor your mother, and avoid you and your siblings tainting the last image you had of her.

Even Junko, whom you’ve felt greatly betrayed from… she had her reasons to act the way she had. It all came from a place of fear and survival. She had to look for herself, for her daughters, even if that meant filling the mold of her intolerant family.

You suddenly feel ashamed, humiliated. Foolish for having allowed someone’s mistakes, regrets, to shake the foundations of your beliefs towards your surroundings, as if you didn’t have discernment of your own.

Naoaki wasn’t, by any reason, perfect. But that’s what made him human. He’s more than willing to be honest about his mistakes and do what’s right.

And it's the reason you fell for him in the first place.

As for Jinichi, the man you’ve never spoken to prior to this night… well, it’s hard to come up with a word to describe what you feel about him, still a bit… discouraged that he’d decided to share his thoughts the blunt way he did, dumping his trauma onto you in a way. More so when you realize you were the one to bring Naoaki's name into the conversation in the first place.

But even then, you can’t help but understand him. He too had been a victim of this family, even if he hadn’t been as directly affected like his brother or Naoaki, but his interference helped you understand how this environment hurt those in the sidelines.

And remind you of how others thrived under it.

Coming to the realization that the allegations against Naoaki had been misinterpreted due to Jinichi’s moment of weakness, and all the emotional exhaustion this situation had put you through, your body naturally decides to slump against his and exhale, physically representing how you’re letting go of the shackles of your concern and enjoy this newfound enlightenment.

An action that has Naoaki tense for a quick second due to its unprecedented nature, more so after the accusatory tone of your words, before accepting your company and relaxing against you as well.

“I’m sorry” you say, carefully adjusting your head into a more comfortable position over his shoulder, releasing another sigh “I shouldn’t… handled this conversation the way I did… I don’t know what came over me”

“It’s ok” Naoaki responds, holding back the urge to drape his arm over you as he’d done so earlier. It was something that nagged him in the back of his mind, for he’d gone ahead and done so without your permission. At least now he’d like to obtain it. “You've been through much, especially since last night…”

“I don’t even… want to talk about it” You say, the vivid remembrance of Naoya’s unwanted touch still burning on your skin. The thought of him almost defiling you… no, defiling you, as well as the remnant stress of your conversation with Naoaki is enough to finally prompt the tears you were barely clinging to out of your eyes and down to your cheeks.

And upon realizing you were finally able to obtain the comfort of the man you were forbidden to see yesterday, you waste no second to look up to him and whisper:

“Can you… hug me?”

A question that has Naoaki’s heart fluttering, for this is the moment he’d been waiting for since the very moment he realized you were more than a friend.

And without a second to waste, Naoaki finally places both his arms around you and pulls you closer to him, into the embrace he’s always longed to give you.

“Are you ok?” Naoaki asks again, especially after remembering you hadn’t really confirmed the status of your situation. He seeks conclusion, more so so he can know what to do to make you smile once more.

“...Not really” you sigh “Naoya is out there god knows where… plotting god knows what”

“You haven’t seen him?” Naoaki ponders “What about your ladies?”

“No. I haven’t, neither have they. And the servants have remained… largely quiet when it comes to him, almost as if they don’t want to tell me, but I can already guess that he’s angry”

“Oh, that’s not good” Naoaki frowns “I only heard a few things from my brothers and other servants that fortunately didn’t keep quiet—ah, I hope I’m not getting you into more trouble with me being here”

“I don’t care” you interject, moving deeper into his embrace “He already thinks the worst of us anyways”

“He does?” Naoaki raises his eyebrows out of skepticism, wondering what version of the truth the servants have decided to relay to him—for he considers that nothing… of controversy has occurred between the two “What does he think?”

“That we’re… doing something” you confess “intimate. ...or not. I don’t know—or care. Not when I know he’s out there with other women while he has me locked in here”

“He probably is.” Naoaki scoffs, disgusted by his younger brother’s womanizing ways

The confirmation of your husband with another woman strikes you with pain in the form of an offense, because it wasn’t enough to have you locked away, no, he also had to involve other people in this matrimony.

A story many women had been the unwilling protagonists of, and hoped that would never happen to you. But it finally caught up to you.

If that’s the case, why must you hold back in doing the same things as he has? He’s clearly having the time of his life with other people, regardless if held any affective responsibility towards them, thus… why couldn’t you do the same, with someone you cared for?

“... I don’t want to talk about him anymore” You say out loud, relegating to not think about that right now, as much as how tempting it sounded to make Naoya suffer with his own antics… you shouldn’t do it while the storm was still present.

And certainly not to spite someone else, if you were to offer yourself to Naoaki, you’d like to do it under loving conditions. “I just… want to be here, with you. How about you tell me about the movie you saw yesterday? Did you have fun? Was it good?” you look up to him, smile parting your lips. A sight that has Naoaki’s heart skipping a beat— he hopes that by your position, you won’t be able to notice how flustered you make him.

“Oh, I did, but Naohiko ended up not wanting to go so I went on my own” he shrugs “But I still enjoyed it”

“That’s awful of your brother” You pout “But you can’t force someone to do something if they don’t want to”

“Yeah, but between you and me, I think I like it better when he doesn’t go—don’t get me wrong, I enjoy hanging out with my brother, but he’s the kind of person to ask you questions throughout the movie, instead of at the end, to the point where you can’t enjoy it anymore”

“Oh, well, now that you mention that… I guess it wasn’t that bad'' you chuckle “My siblings were never like that, but oh, Satoru—he was the worst kind of person in the movies. He’d often throw popcorn to the people in front of us just to see if he could get a reaction out of them. And one day, he did! One of them got so fed up with his pranks that he got up and reported us to the staff, getting all of us kicked out! Not like I cared much, since the place was getting kinda old and there were much better options out there, but you know how inconvenient that is when there’s not many cinema’s to go to begin with?”

“I know very well what you mean, the closest one is by the city at the skirts of the mountain, after that, I have to travel like 30 minutes further away for the nearest one” Naoaki responds “Although, I’ve never been banned from one”

“I never said that I was banned” you frown “Although… I might’ve been—oh, that makes me sound like a criminal, doesn't it?” “Maybe. Is your picture splattered across the main entrance, under the headline: beware of this vandal ?” 

“Of course not!” You countered “I… think—I haven’t returned there”

“Ah, so there is a possibility…?”

“And what if there is? You’re not really going to travel to the other side of the country just to make sure, are you?”

“I just might” he chuckles and you roll your eyes. “Talking about traveling, guess what I got you?”

At that, your eyes go round as you gasp.

“Mochi?!”

“The one and only” he smirks. “Although they’re not in my persona right now, they’re in my room. I’ll give them to you later”

“I didn’t believe you could make them appear through thin air, by the way”

“I know. I’m a sorcerer, not a magician after all”

“Wait, isn’t that the same?” you tilt your head, remembering how the jujutsu community liked to call themselves sorcerers to distance themselves from the negative connotation phony entertainers carried in modern society, although dictionaries often begged to differ.

“I guess so—there’s even some techniques that are specialized in creating inventories and such”

“Seals can work the same way” You added “My sister once sealed lighting in a simple talisman”

“ Lighting ?” Naoaki replies skeptically “How is such a thing possible?”

“I dunno” you shrug “But she did it! It wasn’t easy of course, she spent hours , days, studying how to perform something like that! Imagine trying to grab something intangible, it’s just like that”

“From what you’ve told me” Naoaki begins “Your sister sounds amazing, but there is something I noticed”

“What?” you quizzically reply.

“You only seem to talk about her, and her technique” he notes “I rarely know about yours, or if you even have any”

“Oh” you blush, finding veracity behind his comment, but you thought that throughout many of the conversations you’ve held with him… the topic of your technique must’ve come out, right? 

Now that you think of it, the last time your technique was brought up was when little Mai and Maki inquired more about you, to which you revealed to be a sorcerer in process, with a limited handful of missions under your belt but with all the motivation to become better.

You were about to reveal your skill too, when their mother abruptly interrupted your conversation and… well, the rest is history.

“Really?” you ask back “I thought I did”

“It’s fine if you don’t want to tell me” he says “I know techniques are supposed to be something sacred to oneself, and I wouldn’t want to pressure you to tell me something you’re not ready for”

“It’s not that, I just think… showing you is better” you reply.

“Then I’ll hold onto the surprise” he agrees and you can't help but chuckle at his response.

“It’s not that exciting, so don’t get your hopes up”

“Everything about you is exciting to me” and you could only accept his response with a ruby-red blush on your cheeks.

“Pervert” you mutter, looking away.

“ Pervert ? How could you misinterpret that to me being a pervert?” And then, a mischievous smirk appears on his lips “Unless… already thinking about something unsuitable , Y/N?”

“What? No, I wasn’t! It’s your wording that made me misinterpret it!” You cry back “Why can’t you say normal things like, you’re interesting, or, I would like to know you better, instead of you excite me?!”

“Ah well, if you put it like that, I guess I can see why you’d consider me weird” He laughs, a reaction soon mirrored by yours. The two continued to laugh for a few moments more, until the sentiment began to quiet down, ending in silence.

A small breeze passes by the two, sending chills to your spine and making one of your hair locks fall out of place and onto your face, to which Naoaki is hasty to place back with a gentle touch.

“Thank you” you murmur, shyly, quietly, almost as if it were to yourself, when in reality, he was the only one you wanted to speak with, eyes soon falling into his lips.

And Naoaki was about to return your acknowledgement, that is, until something catches his attention from the corner of his eye. 

His head is quick to swirl towards said direction, inquisitively squinting as if to see if he can make out what it was that he saw, to no avail.

Whatever it was that caught his interest was no longer there — and the question of it being the fleeting presence of an unknown onlooker, or simply one of the many trajectories of fallen leaves, would remain unanswered.

“What is it?” you ask, mirroring his movement towards the direction he was glancing at, as much as your current position allowed you to do so.

“Nothing” Naoaki responds, gaze falling down back at you “I thought I saw something but I guess not”

Your stomach suddenly growls and you rush to clasp your hands over your face out of embarrassment—now that the angst of your emotions was freed, your body felt necessary enough to let you know to not ignore one of the basic necessities of every human.

“Were you hungry all this time?” Naoaki says with a frown upon hearing your growl.

“Ah, yeah” you respond, ashamed as you placed your hands over your stomach “I wasn’t hungry back then… but now I am”

“Let’s get something to eat then” He says, standing up and offering his hand to help you get back on your feet, which you took as if the most natural thing to do, but your hand never left once you were standing.

“I hope Haruko-chan doesn’t mind making something for us…” you respond, not particularly feeling like cooking that day.

“We can always eat instant ramen.” he says, gently rubbing your knuckles with the tips of his thumb.

“Ha ha ” You mock “That’s no good breakfast”

“But it is some kind of breakfast” he smirks and you can’t help but roll his eyes at the silliness.

“If you say so” you giggle back “Let’s hurry, maybe Haruko-chan is still in the kitchen!”

“Wait—Y/N” Naoaki says, halting your course “There’s something I wanted to ask you”

“Oh, sure, what is it?”

“Did Jinichi.. tell you his brother’s name”

You tilt your head, mind going into deep thought before answering “No, I don’t think so”

“Would you like to know?”

“..Sure” you agree, not finding a reason to not learn so.

“ Toji ” Naoaki confesses “That was his name”

“Toji…” you repeat, and a pattern becomes visible in your mind “Ah, what was his father’s name?”

“Hisaji”

“Hisaji, Jinichi and now, Toji” you muse, first it was the twins, then Naoaki and his brothers, and now… Jinichi and Toji. It seems that the Zen’in have a custom of naming their children with similar kanji’s and… you couldn’t help but find it as something… peculiar. “well, it’s certainly much nicer than sorcerer killer” 

“I’m sure he would appreciate it” He chuckles “Now, let’s get you something to eat before you get angry”

“Who said I get angry when I get hungry?” You frown.

“You just proved my point” He winks, and you can’t help but gasp in disbelief.

“Hey! That's not fair!”

“I'm just being honest” He laughs as you start to pull him towards your new destination.

And whatever Naoaki believed he saw that moment from the corner of his eyes, was immediately pushed to the back of his mind as he now focused on how to make it up to you for all the lost time.

Even though you have yet to participate in a promotion of your own, you like to think that you're quite knowledgeable on how they work after your sister and your brother went through a fair share of them—from the subjects to evaluate, to how long it took to go through each block, it was almost as if you’d gone through the examination yourself.

Thus, when you noticed Naoya to be surprisingly absent after all that transpired… your mind was quick to place the pieces together and assume it had been causal to him performing the rest of the assessment.

A moment that allows you to take a breather (if only temporarily), as you simultaneously worry for your duties once more, that is, when you aren’t perturbed by the lack of punishment from his side, whether for the twins, your staff, and worse… your clan.

Of all things considered, the subject you could virtually worry for the least had to be your clan. Naoya had threatened you with them a long time ago, on the car ride back from the honeymoon and onto your new home.

You… like to think, perhaps naively, that he wouldn’t actually do anything towards your family. As small as your clan was compared to the 3 monumental powers that represented the Gojo’s, Kamo’s, and Zen’in, or the minor clans such as the Inumaki’s.

The L/N’s had been present in the jujutsu community for a very, very long time, so… it was safe to assume that they held on for so long because they had power to defend themselves, right?

And you also had to consider the affiliation with the Kamo’s via your distant cousin, who delivered the current heir of the clan (even though she was exiled as soon as it was possible), and the previous engagement of your sister with the Gojo Heir, who still maintained an amicable relationship. All things that must mean something to someone… right ?

Well, if there’s one thing they held advantage over you was the presence of your brother and sister—and your father if you really thought about it. 

If they needed help, they could always turn to them, contrary to you, whom you’ve become the person in question to look for aid, although you think of it as an exaggeration of the facts, mainly from the servants who’d suddenly turned cordial towards you from one day forward.

Either way, you weren’t completely alone. You’ve met people who were deserving of your trust, and it was in your intentions to keep them close if you are to escape this place.

But you had to walk before you could run, and for now, what you need to do is prepare for the storm that’s undoubtedly on its way once Naoya’s promotion is set.

Who knows what kind of behavior he’ll have once the results of his performance are known; Naoya had solely passed the first part of his promotion and he was already drunk in arrogance… you dread to think what would happen once he’s officially a grade 1 sorcerer.

You got to meet a new side of Naoya, one that showed how disturbingly cruel he could be, a new low for him and his disrespect towards you… and you don’t want to see it ever again.

It’s frightening to acknowledge how oscillating his behavior can be when irked by the smallest (or biggest) of things. And to make it all worse, you actually considered enabling him.

But not anymore.

You and your staff had agreed to face this conflict head on and stick by each other, regardless of the decisions either made.

Naoaki had also agreed to stand by your corner, continue offering his support by attempting to make contact with your family—which remained in radio silence, but after Naoya’s comment, you now know why. 

And finally, Junko. Your relationship with her has remained somewhat… professional, for a lack of better words.. She’d become colder towards you (more than she already was in one way or another), more so after you heard that Mariya did keep her promise of resuming the conversation that was halted by your small incident with Jinichi, and with the same impetus, if not more, in which it ended. 

Whatever it was that they discussed, it ended up with Junko agreeing to keep Mariya posted about Naoya’s return, under the pretense of wanting to keep damages to the minimum, and not because she was actually worried for you.

Although it was safe to say that her decision wasn’t unaffected by other factors, the biggest one being your interaction with Jinichi, which kept tormenting for hours after it ended, making her wonder when did you even get the time to get along with another master? Specifically the one that’s known for being distant to everyone ?

There sure were a lot of mysteries surrounding you—but the one thing that won’t remain a secret was her adamancy in keeping her daughters away from you. That is, of course, while Naoya was in the house or so (or whenever Junko felt like it, because Naoya was away for today and Mai and Maki were nowhere to be seen—was this perhaps punishment?) because as much as she liked to act indifferent to her nephew’s behavior, she was just as uneasy as you were about this whole ordeal.

His silence usually meant no good , as if he were saving his energy to plot something worse. 

And that just might be the case.

But until either were confirmed, there was no use ruminating on the inevitable. It’s one of those things that were just out of your control— and you didn’t know if it was for the better or for the worse.

All you could do is prepare yourself for the worst, as best as you can, as the show continued on, such as when you were assigned responsibilities to complete by Junko, like overseeing future refurbishments and scheduling past-due maintenance for the upcoming winter season.

“—the wood has maintained a relatively good condition throughout past years, but humidity is starting to take its toll on this part of the estate” the contractor points down to the north wing in the general map of the estate. An area you’re quick to remember as being off-limits to you, and the irony amuses you. “Since the wind often comes from this side of the mountains, it’s only natural that decay will appear more prominent there”

“I see” you muse along. “Is it appropriate to believe that reparations should start as soon as possible?”

“Repairs aren’t necessarily urgent, I’m sure they can survive this season before the real damage starts to show” the man responds “But it is forecasted that this winter will be the coldest one yet, so I do recommend that maintenance starts at the least, when winter begins”

“Very well” you agree, looking down at the blueprints “What about the rest of the estate? Is there something else that should be brought to my attention?”

“The Zen’in clan also oversees the bi-yearly fumigation of the estate” he adds, and while his wording might’ve been educational, informative, you’re quick to find a small… condescending edge behind his tone. Almost as if he were baffled that you didn’t know about such an arrangement. 

Which, you obviously were, after all, it’s only the second time you’ve seen this man in your life, thus, various topics have yet to be boarded with him.

And he too, had yet to become familiar with you. He’d seen many faces hold this role before: starting with Junko, whose predecessor was Tomoko, who replaced Yuko, and so on and so forth.

But even if he has yet to know much about you, there is one thing that he can comment on: out of the four women he’d worked with, you were the most inquisitive one.

‘Termites, I assume?”

“You assume well” The man remarked “That’s something that cannot pass the season, if we allow these insects to continue to make their nests in the already damaged wood, the decay is only going to rush, worst case scenario, a wooden plank falls on someone’s head”

“Ooh, I dread to think about that” It’s what you say, but your mind is already somewhere else, pointedly imagining your husband to be on the receiving end of this mishap. You wish to laugh at the image of him receiving another part of his karma, but the presence of the stern man before you is enough to hold down your mirth, doubling down by switching the figure of your husband with his father’s to evoke some sense of urgency “Can we arrange both to happen at the same time? To kill two birds with one stone?”

"That's how it's always been, Lady Y/N" The condescending tone in his voice is now as clear as day. If such a thing was so obvious, then why go beating around the bush? 

You try to not think much of his tone, besides considering it a pathetic way to reassure his dominance over you, which you are to disregard with your assertiveness.

"Very well, all that's left is to set the date, and send the invoice for payment" you say as you give one last glance to the papers before you, evaluating them through the parameters Junko taught you before, and coming to the conclusion that everything is, in fact, in place.

"You won’t check the list of materials?" He suddenly asks, almost as if trying to catch you on the curve, but you're not to fall for a third strike.

"I trust you to do your job, contractor" you respond "the Zen'in clan has been using your service for years, hasn't it?"

The man frowns.

"Yes, they have"

"Then I know you'll do a good job" you smile "I think a break is overdue, would you like something to drink before we continue with the renovations?"

"Green tea will suffice" 

"Very well" you nod, pushing yourself up from the floor and giving him a bow before heading over to the door frame and exiting through it, received by the patient composure of Mariya, who always stayed within arms reach whenever you had meetings like these.

"Hello, Lady Y/N" Mariya greets as soon as your figure enters the picture "How did the meeting go?"

"Oh, excellent!" You exclaim cheerfully as you gesture with your eyes that the man is still able to hear them, to which Mariya responded with the scrunch of her face, showing how displeased she was for the fact "We’ve been at it for a while now, I think a break was more than necessary, and what better way than to brew some tea?"

"Of course, Lady Y/N” Mariya nods, putting up the act of dutiful servants for she knew the man was now actively hearing their conversation “May I accompany you?" 

"I wouldn't want it any other way" You respond, and the two begin to make their way towards the south wing of the estate, and into the kitchen.

Once the two women feel that they’re out of his ear shot, you allow yourself to fall into the security that the imposed distance offers you by releasing a groan of exasperation.

"Man, that guy is… certainly something" you sigh as the two continue to walk towards the kitchen "At first I thought he was trying to help me get acquainted with the terms I’ve never heard in my life and whatnot, but I couldn’t be so wrong. It wouldn’t take long before he started acting as an insufferable know-it-all, I don’t know how I managed to endure it without snapping at him"

"I'm sorry you had to go through that, but if it makes you feel better…" Now at the kitchen entrance, Mariya asks you to pass first, which you obliged to, going straight to your usual workspace with her following suit, but not without greeting the working servants nearby "--let me guess, green tea?" she says as she reaches over to grab the wooden chest where all the available tea is stored.

"Yep, that one" you nod, yourself reaching over for the clay teapot  "what were you saying?"

"He's always been like that. Even with Junko-san."  she says, placing the tea bags on the space beside you "Although, I have two more theories” Mariya threads as she takes out 2 cups from the cupboard above her.

“Which are…?” you raise an eyebrow.

“He’s either intending to give you the classic newcomer’s initiation, or… he's still upset that Mai and Maki ruined his office that day"

"Ha!" You laugh, suddenly remembering why you were able to escape with the twins the day you were supposed to meet him. "Now that 's what I call a prank! I can't believe they pulled that one, not that it was the right thing to do of course—don’t let Junko-san hear me— but I can't stop thinking about it! I didn’t think I could go that far"

"And I don't think their mom thought that as well" Mariya chuckles "— pass me a pot, I’ll boil the water"

"By the way" you respond, passing her the container before retrieving a wooden tray from a nearby cabinet  "Have you seen them?"

"Ah, just glimpses here and there" she answers truthfully, carefully taking the pot from your hand and placing it on the stove, filling it with water before starting to boil it "Last time I saw them they were on their way to class, I believe. They didn't say much, except that they asked me to tell you hi"

Your smile.

"If you see them, tell them I said hi too!" You grin "Maybe I should prepare lunch for them later? Think Junko-san would allow me?"

"I think it’s more if the contractor allows you" Mariya sighs, watching you place the clay teapot and extra utensils on the tray "From what I heard, you still have to start on the renovations, don’t you?"

"Ugh, tell me about it" you groan, rolling your eyes as you start to visualize the endless catalog of colors, palettes, materials, accents and everything else that comes with refurbishing a house that you'll have to revise. 

A task that you’d once looked forward to, hadn’t your excitement been abolished by the peer pressure of fitting into the Zen’in aesthetic. You have no doubt that if you made a mistake, or one of the members didn’t appreciate your concept, they’ll let you know about it immediately.

But if so, why even give you this task if they wouldn't permit you creative freedom? The house, more than traditional, started to look out-dated, you think you could grant them the favor of modernizing it a bit.

«Guess it goes with all the old people that live here» you muse.

 " I see if I can finish it as soon as possible" you say as the water begins to bubble up, signaling it to be boiled.

"Don't rush it, and don't let him push you around. At the end of the day, you're the Lady of the House, so he has to do what you want” Mariya pours the hot water into the teapot.

"At least I got power in something" you say, turning off the stove before making way to retrieve the tray, had Mariya not gotten to it first.

“Allow me” She says, taking the tray to her hands, before catching her miscalculation “...Can you open the door?”

You agree with a chuckle, sliding the door open and allowing her to pass first, you right behind her.

As you begrudgingly make your way back to the meeting, forcing yourself to be attentive to the matter at hand by relisting all the things that you yet have to go through… your mind can’t help itself from going back to the box of mochi hidden underneath the many blankets inside your closet. Naoaki had given you an extra batch of taro, due to your personal preference, which you ended up sharing with him.

You had to basically beg him to try them, since he already told you that he didn’t like sweets in particular, that is, until he took the first bite against the soft chewiness of the mochi, giving you the expression that demonstrated that he was both pleased and impressed.

«Damn it, now I want some…» you muse as your mouth starts watering at the mere thought of having one or two mochis to make the day more bearable—a dream that came to a crashing halt when a member of the staff scurried past you and Mariya, passing dangerously close to your main lady-in-waiting, earning them snide comment from her.

"Watch it!" She says through gritted teeth, grip tightening against her tray as another servant hurried past her "I'm carrying hot water here!"

"Oh, sorry Mariya-san, Lady Y/N!" One of the servants bothered to apologize as he continued frantically running to… whatever it was she was going to.

"What in the–" Mariya says as she moves herself to the side, hoping that this will narrow down the possibilities of anyone getting injured "what's going on?!"

“I’m just as confused as you” you say, promptly pulled out of your dreamland and rooted back to reality “Why is everyone running, did someone die?” you say without filtering—

«Wait, did someone finally die?!»  you dreadfully conclude, reminding yourself that there is proper etiquette to follow if that were the case.

You have no doubt that Junko is probably making her way to you to inform you of such a turn of events, well, surely she wouldn’t mind if you got this information from other sources.

"Um, excuse me" you call softly, carefully approaching one of the many fleeting servants in hope of catching their attention, which either because you didn’t speak up enough to be heard, of because they were too frightened by the mysterious succession, ignored you as they kept set on their route, muttering to themselves strings of this is no good, and we're going to die! 

"Wait, excuse me!" You call once more, this time loud enough for someone to finally stop and turn at you "What's going on? Why is everyone in such a hurry?"

"Oh, Lady Y/N, it's best if you hide!" The poor woman bewailed, as she theatrically placed her hands together, almost as if she were to drop on her knees and start praying.

" Huh ?" Mariya raises her eyebrow as she twists her upper lip "What do you mean? What’s going on?"

"Na—Naoya-sama returned, earlier than expected and… and with terrible news!" she cries.

"Terrible news?" You falter, heart sinking to your stomach as you look back at Mariya, who wore the same shade of uneasiness in her countenance.

"Yes!” The woman frenziedly nods her head “Naoya-sama failed his exam!"

" What? " You gasp, and you feel your knees prone to buckle at the impossible, unforeseen prospect any second now " Fail ?"

"It's… It’s what we were told from his staff" the woman explains "I— I don't want to be there when his father hears of it! It's best if you avoid him, Lady Y/N!" And without more words to express, the woman disappears into the hallways, leaving you and your staff to sink into the revolting sensation of this revelation.

"Mariya… did you… do you—" You stammer, unable to muster up anything but broken syllables, a product of your fright and confusion.

“I… I don’t know” Mariya hesitates “Wasn’t he— wasn’t he prepared for it?”

“I… thought so to” you quiver, mind going back to the hours and hours he’s set aside to train, as well as the innate talent he held according to Naoaki, and the rest of his family. “This—this doesn’t make sense”

And it really doesn't.

Passing the theoretical part of the exam was usually the hardest one to achieve—most sorcerer's fail it because there's so many things to remember, so many things to associate, to the point that some don't even bother to take it, aside from their personal inclination to the practical.

And because so many excel in the latter, passing the practical exam is essentially a given . More now than ever after jujutsu headquarters called in a crisis and demanded for more sorcerers to postulate for the promotion.

So to hear that someone as qualified as Naoya, coming from a prestigious clan in addition to receiving ample cooperation from the higher ups, failed the exam, well… you consider yourself suitably astonished .

Causing you to wonder…

How did he even fail in the first place?

(part 2)

#naoya zenin #naoya zen'in #naoya x reader #naoya zenin x reader #naoya zenin x your #jjk naoya #naoya zen'in x reader #series: first it hurts—

[chryzure-archive]

i know i’ve said this before, but i’ll say it again: for as much as the vampire!jacks scene was fun and funny, it makes no fucking sense in the entire world that it’s set in. nor do the dragons, or whatever other creatures we add to it, nor prophecies, which apparently exist in this world now. it was a more grounded sense of fantasy in the original trilogy, which made everything feel easier to connect to. it made the vibe stronger—which was stephanie’s strong point when it came to writing. but with this new series, instead of expanding on her strong vibes (and possibly clearing up/strengthening her world-building), she just scatter-shot a ton of random, unrelated Things She Likes and strung them together in a patchwork that doesn’t work at all. patchwork world-building can work, but you really have to put thought into it and have an underlying thread that ties it back together—and she did not do that. this new series seems to take place in a different world entirely: new rules, new concepts, even (honestly) a completely new jacks (i agree with everyone saying that it’s like a fanfic version of jacks). this feels like it would’ve been better as a completely different book with different characters—but she couldn’t let go of jacks to do so. add to all that the fact that evangeline is honestly just a boring character who never takes initiative, and i’m just… highly disappointed. i remember finding out that it was going to be a book about jacks and being excited by what would happen, and then reading it and going “… so what was that?” i don’t understand what happened, nor why jacks is a completely different person (a lot more somber—at times, i’d compared him to azure, which… *shivers* it’s bad that i could do that.), nor why the world felt so disconnected. the biggest red flag, truthfully, was discovering that vampires existed in this universe literally ten pages before we see them. not mentioned in the original trilogy (which makes sense, since she revealed that she never planned the series all the way through—it works for a game-like atmosphere, where not everything needs to tie together), but also not hinted at in the same book where it was apparently close to the climax. you need to build that up more, esp since all we really got was a vampire lore dump right before jacks got turned into one.

it could’ve been good if she’d worked on it for longer. it could’ve been better if she’d been able to let jacks go and worked on another project. revisiting the caraval universe would’ve been better after she’d given herself more time away from it. but instead, we got a weak book that doesn’t even have Fun Vibes to make it easy to read.

#i know you guys know my opinion on the book but i just can’t explain how deeply disappointed i was #yes i’m getting the next book but the fact that this new series feels like a new universe jacks was smushed into #makes it VERY easy to act like it’s not canon. which i’m doing. i just want to know more abt jacks backstory. that is all. #and i could go ON about evangeline being a very weak character in personality and charm and even initiative #she doesn’t DO anything. she doesn’t. she’s the stand-in for the reader so they can imagine being with jacks #god. i’m just sad about what it COULDVE been #with better characters and more time to plan it out #don’t get me started on the retconning #memorie.txt #i also think her writing got weaker in this new series. it does NOT flow as well as it used to #like when i was reading it—i was BORED #and she put lots of stuff in it. to make it fast-paced? i guess?? but instead it was just evangeline being dragged around #but it’s bad that there’s Lots Of Stuff Happening and all i could think of was reading a different book

[justawhimm]

you’re real

fandom: cyb//erp//unk 2077  

summary: a short time after ted's birth, kerry, louise, and kelvy all take a visit to north oak's columbarium.

chapters: 6/8

content warnings: mention of character death, general grieving

notes:  for the unaware: while not canon, within the cybergeneration lore for derry, derry died in 2026. I didn't think much in terms of canon ages and years for derry when I wrote the first two chapters, so they don't really line up with that canon. oh well! but yes, this was not just me killing her off for the sake of it, I knew this would be canon if I added her in this. :( so yeah. rip derry, she deserved so much better. also! the lyric used for derry's epitaph is from "the world spins" by julee cruise

Current Year: 2063 Kerry's Age: 75

cross posted on ao3

He lived so close to the columbarium, it was kind of inexcusable that it'd taken him this long to make his way there. Louise insisted it was ok. He was recovering, it was an emotional time. He just wasn't ready yet. She kept making excuses for him, and he really appreciated it. She made him feel like it would be easier with time.

But as it was getting to be almost two months post Teddy's birth, Kerry was becoming more and more anxious about it. It felt like he was avoiding the entire situation. He didn't want to face it in any sense, or really even give it any thought. This avoidance felt about as strong as his avoidance about the Johnny situation. It hurt too much, why did he have to face it? Why did he have to think about it anymore? Please, he just had a baby. Leave him be.

And that was what happened. He'd been left alone.

This time, Kerry felt like shit for it.

Kerry was the one to request they go to the columbarium with both his wife and children in tow. Louise didn't argue with him. She did the work of inviting Kelvy, to Kerry's relief. He wasn't sure if he would've been able to do it himself.

They planned on meeting there, visiting for a bit, and then going back up to Kerry and Louise's home to spend the rest of their time. A nice visit. A nice time together. Kerry could only hope he'd be able to handle it.

-

"I know, bud…" Kerry cooed down at Teddy as he made the careful movements to pull his carrier free from the car. Ted wasn't having the great of times already. He was huffy that the rhythms of the car had stopped. The exact opposite of Kelvy. She'd hated the car. Oh, his boy. Already so opinionated. "We'll come back to the car soon. We're just gonna go say hi to your sisters."

"There's Kel," Louise spoke up from where she was waiting on the pavement, holding the diaper bag just in case. Kerry raised his head up, where he'd spy so many other sets of eyes staring at them first. 

Don't do it, you fucks. This is a columbarium. Don't you get near him or his family.

He sent those staring a hard glare of warning, tightening his jaw and his grip on the bar of Ted's carrier. Shutting the car door, he finally averted his eyes and looked over toward Kelvy's car.

She was getting out of her car, her head of teal colored braids poking up just over the top. Straightening herself up and shutting the door, she circled around the front of her car. Now even more eyes were drawn to them. A legendary rockerboy and his media star daughter. A spectacle for the public to eye and behold. All he could hope was that these fools knew better than to approach any of them right now.

Kelvy's smile was strained. Attempting to stay strong for the day, just as they all were. She hugged Louise first, then moved on to her father to hug him before her gaze fell on her baby brother.

"Hi Teddy," she cooed, squatting down so she was at eye level with where Ted was settled in his carrier. "Remember me? You're gonna get so annoyed with me." Extending out her arm, she touched one of his tiny hands with her finger and pet the back of it. She would get her chance to hold and cuddle her brother later. For now, the mood stayed somber.

Pushing herself back up to stand, her eyes would lock with her father's. That strained smile reappeared. This was gonna be hard, they all knew it.

"Ready, Dad?"

"Not even a little bit…"

"Need us to take a minute?" 

Kerry shook his head. No, he'd be alright. 

"Thanks for bein' here, Kel," Kerry breathed out, his own eyes trailing down to his son. From the angle he held the carrier, all he could see of Ted was his little feet, covered up by his onesie.

"Wouldn't be anywhere else. Let's get these fuckers to stop staring, huh?"

Looking up again, Kerry saw that some were still staring. Others had either walked or looked away. Fucking vultures. With a sigh, Kerry nodded his head and started to finally step away from the car. Teddy was still whining, but he knew he was alright. Just being a pouty little boy. He'd feel better in Daddy's arms here in a little bit.

Exchanging the carrier into his left hand, Kerry offered his right to Louise once he made it to where she stood on the pavement. He was quietly thankful when she accepted it readily. Kelvy wasn't far behind, with both of them waiting for Kerry to make the move toward the columbarium first.

It would take a few moments for Kerry to get the nerve to. When he finally did, he felt as though he was on auto-pilot until he made it to the row she was in.

There were so many different niches around hers. Hell, it was in this same columbarium that Johnny and Alt both rested. An empty niche for Johnny, while he didn't know nor care about the state of Alt's. Neither of them mattered today, anyway. He stood in front of the specific niche they were visiting, staring at it with burning eyes. 

Derry Eurodyne [ Come back and stay. Forever and ever. ] 2007-2026

Even after all this time, it was hard to believe it to be true. He still had those times of having to remind himself that she was gone, and had been for so long now. He knew Kelvy hardly had any memories, if any, of her older sister. Now Teddy would have to live his life without her too. His heart broke for them both, for Derry's mother. He was never going to be able to bury the guilt, or even just move past it. 

He knew this would be a constant for the rest of his days.

"Hey, Derry…" Kerry finally managed to force out of his mouth. Louise and Kelvy both had been quiet, standing solemnly at either side of him. Letting his face fall, he'd instead look to his son. "I know, it's pretty wild. Your dad's this old 'n' still poppin' out babies," he joked, letting a fake smile spread across his face. "Didn't think it was possible either, but here he is." He carefully began to kneel down, unbuckling Teddy from his carrier. "Your baby brother. His name's Theodore, but Louise and I've been calling him Teddy."

Teddy let out a whine of discomfort as he was picked up out of his seat, with Kerry quietly shushing him a moment later. He kept his hold of him gentle, making sure he got him comfortable in his arms.

"Don't be like that, Teddy Bear. Gotta say hello to your big sisters. Especially Derry. Haven't met her yet." Standing himself up, he'd hold him so he could get a good look at the hologram epitaph. The projected image above her name and information was a picture of when she was still a little girl. Kyra had wanted it that way, and Kerry hadn't been willing to argue with her. The hologram wasn't even that great, but… well, too late to change things up now.

"Your little brother's pretty damn adorable, Derry. You'd probably love holding him. Like how you loved holding Kel. But, we're gonna tell him all 'bout ya. I know I've been-" Before Kerry could go on with what he was saying, his attention was swayed by a quiet little coo from Teddy.

The cooing wasn't terribly common just yet. Most of his noises were still just cries and grunts, but he did love it whenever he made those sweet little noises occasionally. Looking down to his son's face, he would see Teddy's wide eyes gazing up at the teal colored holograms. And then… a smile. 

Oh. Oh, shit. 

There'd been smiles before, he'd admit. They hadn't been totally voluntary before, though. Nothing gave indication that he was actually smiling at what he saw in front of him. Part of Kerry wondered if it was more of the same, or if he was actually doing this. So as the smile stayed for longer than a second, Kerry felt his eyes burning all over again.

He knew it wasn't because of Derry. He wasn't some silly, emotional idiot that was thinking too much about this. He knew it was probably because of the pretty light. Despite that, though, his eyes just couldn't stop watering.

"What is it, Dad?" Kelvy spoke up, since she was the only one able to see his face.

With a sharp sniffle, he'd gesture down toward Teddy with a nod of his head. Kelvy followed his gaze, hunching over slightly so she could see her baby brother's face. That smile was so clear as day, she didn't even really know what to say. With a gesture from Kelvy, Louise would lean over to see too. And she saw it. The sweet little smile on Teddy's face as he was looking into that teal light.

"Shit," Kerry breathed, feeling his voice shake. "...Happy ta see your big sister, bud?" A small chuckle bubbled out of him. "Or are you just mesmerized by that pretty light? Either way, you're cute as fuck, ya little bug." Kerry carefully adjusted his hold on Ted, turning him around and placing him up to his shoulder so he could embrace him the way he wanted to.

"She makes all of us smile too."

#emmi writes #implied mpreg #implied tmpreg #mayternity

[cyclonesyndicate]

Voidlight | Beowulf | Trial 5.6 | Re: Niflheim, Xanathar

Xanathar's words.

Have any of you considered that I had Beowulf’s power?

That was exactly why Beowulf didn't want to even think about it being Xanathar. Because Xanathar had his power. His enhanced strength, speed, endurance, senses...everything that made Beowulf who he was was in his power. He wouldn't have killed for this part of his identity back but he would've missed it more than anything else. To think that it was used...that the Wolf of War was used to kill again made Beowulf want to lash out in Xanathar's direction. He wants to hold it back but he feels like he can't...it isn't rage. It is disappointment in Xanathar. Complete and utter disappointment in who he turned out to be.

This wasn't the for sure truth but he still...

"So you wanted to use the Wolf of War to kill someone did you!? Wanted to desecrate my power with this bullshit!? That power should've only ever been used to kill one person and then never used for this shit again! It's just a goddamn bit of fucking disrespect to me."

To everything he was. He didn't want to get as angry as he did, but he just couldn't help himself. So much has culminated and so much needs to be let go. He and Xanathar...they weren't close but they shared a moment. Xanathar was there to help him get emotional, to help him try and cry. Even if it wasn't successful at the moment, it did its job of removing the rust of the gears that would open the gate on his tears. So he was thankful for that.

"You used your enhanced abilities to take on Alphard then how the hell did you end up getting stabbed? And how's your wound doing now? I don't have abilities like Aleister but Wolf of War can still help you heal faster than normal. Is it still there. If you're really the killer than it should be there."

Beowulf didn't think he would ever get this genuinely emotional over these people...His attention turns to Niflheim and this...covering for each other. One of them is the killer. Beowulf is sure who it is but he wants to hammer something into Niflheim.

"Xanathar said it first, we don't really know what happens if we get it wrong but with how this game has gone, I probably got a pretty good idea of the shit that is going to go down."

His tone is serious, all the lightheartedness that is usually found within it is drowned out by that somber expression. Beowulf seemed different. He points his finger directly at Niflheim.

"Is that something you want to be responsible for, Niflheim? You wanna protect Xanathar but what about Aleister. Imagine you convince us all that it's you and so Aleister gets the short end of the stick. Making him leave Xanathar behind because you want to cover for him and save him. What about if it's NULL? You think I'll just stand here and let that happen? Let you run off after saving the person you cherish? No way in hell. What if it's me? Or Princesa, or Cherry, or anyone else that's still here? Is that fucking worth carrying on your back forever, bro?"

He smirks to himself and gets back his cocky expression. Past the rage and past the despair.

"If that's the choice you want to make then make it. But all you're doing is making everything worse by defending a murderer. No one forced Xanathar to kill and no one else should have to suffer because of his actions. Not me, not Aleister, and especially not you."

#ch 5 #beowulf

[vidalinav]

And then, there were three.

Azriel didn’t know what to do after the days following their... weekend tryst. For all intents, he should’ve hid away in the shadows like he was used to, maybe plan to move to a separate apartment like he should have done when he couldn’t stop staring at Nesta’s breasts. She’d be flushed and bright after training... giving Cassian looks so soft she might of been made of velvet, and  Azriel imagined what they might’ve look like together. All sweaty and panting, gasping for a lungful of each other’s scents. 

At least, he should have had the sense to get back to work. The best plan of action would’ve been to ignore it ever happened at all and to disappear. To do what he did best, being quiet and somber, keeping that knowledge to himself and away from everyone else.

He should pretend that nothing had changed, because nothing had changed. 

Cassian smiled and laughed, just as he’d done for the last five hundred years, and as Azriel entered the library that’s just what he did now. This time, Cassian ventured to him, settling his arm around his shoulder in a brief hug, and Azriel affirmed that his looks had always been that warm... that friendly. And, Cassian had always been too touchy for his own good. 

What was the difference now? 

But Azriel felt the tangible difference as if it were made of his shadows, which wrapped around his legs as he walked, pulling him in the opposite direction. Because it wasn’t just Cassian and Azriel fucking some random female together or... multiple in the same room. Now there was three. Three distinct people, doing three distinct things. 

Nesta peered up at him from her book, where she lounged in a large armchair by the window, and much like she’d been doing these past days, she grimaced lightly at his image, wrinkling her nose. 

It infuriated him. 

Nesta, though new to him, had been fairly easy to learn. All her mannerisms were routine. Familiar. She didn’t hide from him or anyone. Nesta looked him in the eyes and boldly asked for what she wanted. Maybe that’s why he’d agreed. The expression simmered his blood and for a moment it felt like a challenge. Why couldn’t he claim her, if that’s what she wanted? Why couldn’t he have just one taste?

And it had been more than one taste. He’d felt young again but with all the expertise of someone wise. Azriel and his best friend ravishing a female who was just a little too wanton and wild to be tamed. The most perfect sort of female for the two... or for Cassian, as the Mother had willed it. 

For a moment, too, he wasn’t alone. He’d been surrounded by Cassian’s large frame and Nesta’s soft skin and they’d all been just dizzy enough with lust that they couldn’t really figure who was touching who, only that they had been together for hours and hours. Days, in fact. 

But there was a shyness to Nesta now, which baffled him. Azriel had seen her laid bare, in so many different positions, with so many different expressions that Azriel felt hot just thinking of them, and here she was... hiding from his gaze. Almost disturbed.

Modesty? That had been thrown out the window, skittering down the stairs, never to be seen again, unless he stopped hearing the thousand different noises that Nesta could make. If he were honest, he wanted to hear a thousand more, tally them up to see how many he could capture.  

She refused to blush too. There was no meek regret. Only Nesta’s Make Me expression as Cassian had deemed. 

Cassian only smiled at his untouchable mate, and patted him on the shoulders lightly as if to say, aren’t I lucky? 

Frankly, Azriel felt cursed. His blood should not boil this much. He shouldn’t want to ruffle that perfect dress of hers, that perfect hair, and he crossed his arms while he stared, daring her to make that face again. 

#nessriel #nesta archeron #azriel #cassian #nesssssssriel #vidalinav writes mini fics #but basically they're fics that I might continue #but maybe not

[lazyliars]

c!Tommy's relationship to violence is a pretty fascinating one.

Specifically I got thinking about this in regards to Techno, and his proclaiming that he only saw Tommy as useful once he had displayed a willingness to commit violence against others alongside Techno.

And I think a lot of the difference in analysis of these moments between c!Tommy fans and c!Techno fans is that this kind of violence means different things between the two.

For Techno, fighting for or alongside someone is a pretty important thing; for someone who feels like he is often dehumanized and viewed as a weapon, choosing who he fights for and who he lends his power to means a lot.

As I see it, It's why his feeling abandoned during the Red Festival has much more weight amongst Techno enthusiasts then Tommy or Tubbo enjoyers, and why his bringing it up during Doomsday is such a point of contention between the two groups.

For the people in Tommy and Tubbo's corner, it's a deep hypocrisy; Techno claiming to feel used as a weapon after he had admitted that Tommy's usefulness and status as a friend and/or equal was tied directly to his being willing to fight.

But for the Techno corner, that's not what it's about; For Techno, fighting for someone you care about is a big deal, especially for someone who ends up being a loner a lot of the time. The willingness to protect someone is something deeper, almost symbolic.

It's a pretty nasty spot of miscommunication, tied with genuine misrepresentations of what Techno wanted from Tommy and a complete misunderstanding of what Tommy wanted from L'manberg and Tubbo, largely because during the Bedrock Bros arc, Tommy didn't know either.

Which ties back into how Tommy's relationship with violence works, and how it is pretty much the antithesis of Techno's.

For Tommy, not fighting someone is often a better indicator of his caring for them then his willingness to fight for them.

The best example of this is the scene in the community house; Tommy realizes that hurting his friends (specifically Tubbo) is not worth it - it's not going to get him what he wanted, and it's the turning point where he starts to understand what he always knew subconsciously; that what made the discs important wasn't entirely linked to the physical objects, it was the feeling of a carefree 'before time' that he wanted to return to.

It's Tommy's refusal to keep fighting Tubbo that is a transformative and inspiring moment for him, and a deep betrayal for Techno.

And it's why it hurts them both so badly.

Tommy doesn't want to fight Techno. He's genuinely apologetic to him and very obviously feels horrible for leaving him, and I imagine, had Dream not escalated the situation, Tommy would've been protecting him if the Butcher Army had tried to press the attack and finish what they started.

But for Techno, this is a brutal betrayal - Tommy used him, despite the fact that Tommy had just lost the very thing he had joined Techno to retrieve, because Techno was conflating Tommy's willingness to fight with his willingness to protect Techno, because that's how Techno shows that he cares.

To Techno, Tommy refusing to fight for him is a betrayal. For Tommy, it is a reclamation of his sense of self, but not an abandonment of Techno inherently.

Another example is Tommy continuing to follow Wilbur during the Pogtopia era, even when it was becoming more and more clear that Wilbur's spiral was endangering the people Tommy cared about.

Tommy refused, at every point, to get violent with Wilbur, or even to abandon him. He refused to believe that it would come to that, and he continued to believe in Wilbur's ability to pull himself back from the edge.

(It also makes Wilbur's beliefs on violence in his conversation with Big Q during the elections even more tragic. It was never a belief set that Tommy shared, even when Wilbur was being consumed by it.)

And again, when the cabinet was talking about killing Techno, Tommy was the one piping up in his defense because he was (at the time) just minding his own business. This is the foreshadowing to bedrock bros.

And we can see the reverse of this when Tommy is being violent. It's generally portrayed as something negative for his character, as a failing.

It's why Revivedbur goading Tommy into fighting him while they're doing the tour is such a dark moment.

It's why the scene in the pit and Techno's killing Tubbo is such a sticking point for Tommy and why Wilbur's giddiness at the brutality is so disturbing; Wilbur was aware that this was a devolution for Tommy.

It's also why I personally consider his killing Jack to be the lowest point of exile. It was a full refutation of the kind of 'silly' violence, AKA violence with no consequences. What would have been a dumb joke before suddenly took on this somber tone, as Jack tried to swim back up and save himself. This ends up being further compounded by Jack declaring this a canon death - Tommy, at his lowest, kills someone he once considered a friend.

This is why many Tommy enthusiasts view Bedrock Bros as the closest he ever came to a villain arc; Tommy hurting people for the sake getting what he wanted was a massive shift in his character's morality - it's why his declaration of being "worse than everyone I didn't want to be" means so much.

And while it's easy to think that "someone he didn't want to be" means Techno here, I'd argue he's referring to Wilbur. Wilbur, who gave in to his worst self and ended committing violence against all of his loved ones, precisely when he realized that he wouldn't be able to recover the thing he wanted most. Wilbur, who was the one who taught Tommy to fight with "words, not violence."

"The thing I built this nation for doesn't exist anymore," and "The discs were worth more than you ever were" are lines that parallel each other.

But where Wilbur follows his words up with an act of tragic, self-destructive violence, Tommy catches himself. Tommy stops hurting Tubbo. He stops trying to hurt L'manberg. He tells Tubbo to give Dream the disc, refuting Wilbur's idea that "if I can't have it, no one can," that poisoned his mind.

None of this is to say Tommy is a pacifist. He will definitely fight when he has to - he's a war veteran, after all.

But I do think there's a distinct difference in how he relates to violence when contrasted against other characters, and how he's failed and succeeded with regards to that.

#Dream SMP #Tommyinnit #c!Tommy #Technoblade #Wilbur Soot #Dream SMP analysis #lazytext #long post

[quindolyn]

can you write a james potter smut with a lot of choking, hair pulling and degradation :))

Patience Pays Off || James Potter

Word Count: 3834

A/N: I haven’t written in forever but this was for @randomoutsiders because it’s her birthday today. I know that I’m posting this after midnight her time but it’s still 9 here so I’m still celebrating Isa’s birthday. I love you baby. I’m still getting the hang of dom Jamie because in my head he’s my little sub and I have a hard time as seeing him as anything but the softest dom so this isn’t perfect

Warnings: rough sex, degradation, face slapping, spanking, dumbification, slapping reader’s tits, I think that’s it?

Masterlist

You were proud of yourself for making it through the entirety of the day without a major incident, since your first class of the day a fire had been burning in your belly, beginning as a mere flame before erupting into a blazing wildfire. Consuming you from the inside out.

The littlest thing made the fire burn hotter and brighter, the way James’ muscles flexed under his uniform as he walked through the hallways, shoulders back and arm around your waist like he owned the place. 

You couldn’t help but whimper, catching a glimpse of his toned abdomen as he stretched his arms upwards, loosening himself up after being hunched over a desk all day. You felt your heart skip a beat in your chest watching his hand grip his quill, jotting down notes in his sloppy handwriting.

All you could think about was how many better things we could do with those hands, how wasted they were on Transfiguration.

You couldn’t bear the thought of having to sit through dinner, watching his hands flex as he shoveled food from his plate into his mouth, eyes trained on his lips as he licked them clean of the remnants of his meal. It sounded like hell, but when you’d tugged on his sleeve right before the two of you entered the Great Hall, murmuring into his shoulder about how you just wanted to go up to his dorm you’d been shot down.

Knowing why you were so desperate to escape up to his dorm James simply told you to be patient as he tugged you into the hall, quickly ushering you over to your usual seat with his best friends and roommates. 

The whole endeavor had been just as hellish as it had sounded and by the time James was leading you up the stairs to his dorm, Remus and Sirius having disappeared to the Astronomy tower together.

As the door latched behind you you threw yourself at James’ chest, grappling for his shoulders as you smeared your forehead against his strong shoulder. 

“Daddy,” You mewled, feeling your pussy throb at the very feeling of his body under your hands as you dug your fingers into his shoulders.

James’ deep chuckle sounded from above you and you could feel the vibrations against your head, “Someone’s needy,” His large hand reached up, his fingers combing through your hair before anchoring themselves up towards the root of your hair. 

Using his hold on you he pulled your head backward so that you were forced to peer up at him, eyes wide and hazy from hours of being teased. Tears were beginning to well in your eyes as the sexual frustration of the day began to wash over you.

“M’not needy,” You whimpered, pushing yourself into him because even though you were pressed together it wasn’t enough. You needed more. 

“No baby? Not needy?” He asked, cocking his head to the side as hazel eyes held yours, the very feeling of his eyes on you had you squirming.

“No Daddy, not needy,” You insisted.

What succeeded that  was so abrupt that you almost didn’t register it but James lifted his hand, bringing it down against the side of your face, pulling a pathetic whine from you as the pain from his hand blossomed across your face. Instinctively you brought your hand up to soothe the warming flesh of your cheek but James caught your wrist before you could get too far.

“Don’t lie to me slut,” He growled, eyes darkening as he gazed down at you, said gaze hardening considerably, 

“That hurt,” You sniffed but the boy paid you no mind. 

“You’ve been needy for me all day, spent all of Charms hanging off my arm, ready to take my cock right there where everyone would’ve seen you. But you were too needy to even think about that.”

You felt shame pool in the pit of your belly at his statement, because no matter how much you’d try to deny it he was right. You would’ve let him take you right there if he wanted to. You could hear James’ voice ring through your head, Daddy’s needy girl.

“Am I wrong baby?” He asked almost like he could read your mind.

You shook your head but quickly remembered that you were to answer him verbally, “No Daddy, you’re not wrong.”

“There we go,” He cooed, bringing his thumb to the seal of your lips before pushing past it and letting his thumb rest against the flat of your tongue. You began sucking on the digit the second it landed on your tongue, humming around his finger as your eyes fluttered closed.

“Eyes open,” Your eyes were startled open as his rough fingers pinched at your clothed nipple through your uniform top and bra. 

James was silent as he let his eyes drag over your form, face open and pleading, your chest was heaving from the effort it took not to collapse onto the floor, your legs looking like they were about to buckle as your trembling knees knocked against each other.

“Were you horny all day baby?” He wondered as though the idea had just dawned on him.

You nodded, James' finger still lodged in your mouth before he slipped it out, wiping it clean not on his clothes but the material of your skirt. 

“On the bed bunny, and get all these pesky clothes off, I want my pretty whore naked for me.”

You scrambled to comply with his command, fingers clumsily pulling buttons through their respective holes before shrugging the garment off your shoulders allowing it to land somewhere on the floor around you. Your bra quickly followed and having already shed your footwear that left you only in the uniform skirt that had ridden up your thighs to the point where it was useless, barely even covering your panty clad pussy much less your ass.

You didn’t dare glimpse up at James to silently plead for help, knowing it would only ensure more mocking and teasing and you weren’t quite sure if you would be able to stand it. Instead, you stayed struggling with the difficult clasp at the top of the skirt’s zipper, slippery fingers struggling with the small hook.

“What? Can’t get it undone pretty baby?” James asked you from where he stood at the foot of the bed, you stood to the left of the mattress, brows furrowed as your head was dropped to examine the hook.

Your eyes flashed upwards, meeting James’ lust clouded gaze, hazel eyes trained on your face, he was doing little, if anything, to mask the sly smirk forming on his face from watching you fumble uselessly.

“It’s hard,” You insisted, quickly returning your eyes to the task at hand.

“I’m sure it is when you’re a dumb baby.”

“M’not dumb!” You raised your head in indignation, glaring at the boy who stood there as cockily as ever. 

“What was that?” His tone was harder than it had been mere seconds ago, the cocky smile slipping from his lips, “Who do you think you are, talking back?”

“You called me dumb Daddy,” You mumbled pathetically, casting your head down as the boy approached you, meeting your smaller figure in only a few strides, “And m’not,” Your voice stalled as your eyes lifted to meet the somber look on James’ face, “M’not dumb.”

James’ following silence was worse than any physical punishment he could dole out to you, the longer you stood there, eyes locked on James’, the louder your heartbeat became in your head. 

“Not dumb, huh? Then why is your skirt still fucking on? Did I say you could stop?”

At his words, your eyes dropped back down to the clasp where you found your fingers had stilled, almost shaking due to the intensity of his stare but no longer working on the task you’d been assigned.

Your fingers began to twitch again, trying to figure out the complicated clasp (though it was really only complicated thanks to the fog that had seemed to settle over your mind) but before you could make any progress the piece of fabric was torn from your waist with a force that had you reeling.

You could barely register the stinging along the skin of your waist and hips, all you knew was that there was a rush of slick flooding your pussy at James’ impressive show of strength. 

“Fucking useless,” The dark haired boy murmured, “Have to do everything myself.” As the words tumbled from his lips his large hands found the mounds of your breasts, squeezing them to the precipice where pain overrode pleasure. 

It took everything you had in you to not let your head tip back at the stimulation and let out the most pathetic whine. Knowing James would only use it as fuel was the only thing that kept you contained.

“Can get your panties off can’t you?” His right hand trailed down your form before encountering the waistband of said underwear, slipping a finger underneath it to pull the strap away from your hip before letting go and letting it snap back against your skin.

The contact stung but not enough for you to argue it with him, having wanted him all day you needed him, and you needed him now. Not even the wanting to voice your disdain for his action was going to get in the way of that. 

“Yes, Daddy,” You murmured obediently, sliding the panties down your hips before stepping out of them. A swift pat on the ass had you scampering onto the bed where you positioned yourself on your knees, hands clasped in your lap as you awaited James’ instruction

“Look at you,” The brunette muttered, a strong finger catching under the curve of your chin and using it to direct your visage upwards towards his, “On your knees for me like you know you’re supposed to be.”

“S’because I’m your good girl,” You mewled, trying to lean into James’ touch, seeking the comfort that came with it but sensing your intentions James quickly pulled his hand back, leaving you desperate for him to touch you.

Your thirst for said touch was quickly satisfied when he gripped your jaw in his hand, pushing your cheeks together, your lips forced out into a pout. You were sure that the grip he had on you was melding bruises into the side of your voice but you couldn’t summon the energy to care.

You were embarrassed to admit that the rough hold James had on you sent a tingle down your spine, a familiar throbbing in your pussy. 

“Gonna see how good for me you can actually be,” With those words James pushed your shoulders back onto the bed where you landed with a soft thud, straightening out your legs so that James could grab ahold of your ankles and wind them around his waist, pulling closer to you to trail his lips up the length of your torso. Leaving sloppy open mouthed kisses until he came to your tits, pinching each nipple between his fingers.

He delighted in the little whine you let out at that, using it as an invitation to roll the rosy buds between his fingers before palming your breasts, his large hands engulfing them. James groped the flesh before releasing your tits from his hold, an involuntary whimper leaving your lips at the lack of stimulation before he brought the palms of his hands down against them, smacking them harder than he had your face. 

“Fuck,” You breathed, attempting to clench your thighs together but met by the resistance of James’ hips positioned between them.

“Watch your mouth,” James scolded absentmindedly as he returned his mouth to your body, sucking hues of yellow and blue and purple into the soft skin before soothing the marks with his tongue. This gentle touch immediately followed by him nipping harshly at the forming bruises was jarring, jarring enough to have you bucking up into his hips. 

“Daddy please,” You’d had enough of the teasing touches and mocking smiles, you’d had enough of it all except for the one thing you really needed, his cock. 

“Use your words slut, tell me what you want.” 

“Want you please, want your cock. Need it so bad Daddy, so so bad,” You begged unabashedly, scratching your fingernails along his shoulder blades as you tried to pull him closer and closer to you.

“Desperate little cockwhore, want my cock so badly,” James grinned as he pushed himself off both you and the bed, peering down at your frame as he made quick work of the belt of his buckle. The clinking of metal was music to your ears and enough to have you propping yourself up on your elbows to watch him as he disrobed, shedding his clothes faster than any human reasonably should be able to.

Your mouth dropped open as James shed his last piece of clothing, inching his boxers down his muscled thighs until the length of his cock was able to pop out, escaping the restraints of the underwear. 

Though he hadn’t been letting on, his prick was all you needed to see to know he was as turned on as you were, just much better at hiding it. A good 8 inches in length his cock stood proud and tall, already engorged with blood the tip was a pretty rose color that seemed to be darkening by the second and you couldn’t help but lick your lips at the very sight of it. 

James took immense pleasure in watching your face as he worked his fist up and down his length, relishing in the way your eyes darkened considerably every time the head poked out the top of his fist.

“Hands and knees for me pretty slut,” You pushed yourself into the requested position, arching your back like you knew James would want you to, making sure to push your ass as far up into the air as possible.

You inhaled sharply as you felt the mattress shift, knowing that it was James settling in behind you you felt your pulse speed up, the anticipation was palpable as James smeared the leaking head of his cock over the globes of your ass.

“My whore, letting me rub my cock on her ass, making her all sticky and messy,” James punctuated his remark with a slap to your ass, though not the first time his hands had come down against you that night it for certain came with the most force behind it. You jolted forward at the impact before quickly sliding back into your position.

You could feel the blood rushing to your ass as it warmed under James’ hand which was now rubbing the afflicted area in attempts to soothe the skin. All efforts were in vain though when the hand was drawn back once again and brought down on almost the exact same spot. 

This time he managed to pull a strangled gasp from you, the pain only contributing to the heat beginning to boil in the pit of your belly. 

“Please,” You whined, arching your back even more and pushing your ass up against James, needing for him to relent and fill you up like you knew he could, “I’m done being patient I just need you.”

“Like you were ever patient, to begin with.”

“I was, I spent all day waiting for you to get up so you could fuck me and-”

Your bratty words had gotten you just what you wanted, James cut you off mid sentence as he pushed his cock into you, not even easing himself in he simply impaled you on his member. Hands found your hips and pulled you back to meet his so that your ass was still high in the air and he could be as deep inside of you as possible.

“Happy now you fucking cockslut? Happy now that Daddy’s fucking his pretty pussy?”

“Y-yes Daddy, your pussy” You stuttered out as the force of James’ thrusts dropped you down from your hands to your elbows, your hair tumbling in front of your face and effectively obscuring your vision.

This issue was quickly fixed as you felt James tug you up by your hair, using it to stabilize himself as he thrusted in and out of your ribbed walls. The friction his movement provided felt incredible, accompanied by the feeling of being full of his cock had the pleasure in your belly continuing to simmer.

If the distinctly wet sound of your pussy was any indicator you were absolutely soaked, James’ rough handling of you only reminding you how big and strong your boyfriend really was, how if he wanted to he could break you.

The pleasure in your belly was building quickly, with every sound of skin slapping against skin you felt your pussy ache, no matter that you were already stuffed full of his cock already. You needed more, you always needed more of him. 

“Slutty bunny,” James grunted as he planted his hands on your hips to hold you into place as he lifted his hips, able to reach deeper and deeper inside of you, “Such a whore for my cock, drooling over me all day. Is this what you wanted baby? Wanted Daddy to fuck you?”

“Yes! S’what I wanted, feels so good.”

“Of course it does, cock sluts just need to be full of Daddy’s cock, is that what you want bunny?”

“Yes, Daddy!” You screamed as you felt yourself being pushed further and further towards the edge of orgasm. Dancing dangerously close to the precipice of pleasure, so close you risked cumming without permission, and after hours and hours of desperation, you couldn’t afford to disappoint him. 

“Can feel you clenching around me slutty girl, you feel so fucking good around me, it’s like you were made for my cock.”

“I was Daddy, was made for your cock,” You were ready to say anything you needed to in order to get James’ permission to cum. Having abandoned all embarrassment, all shame, you didn’t care how much of a fool you’d make of yourself you just needed to cum. 

“That’s right slutty baby, you wanna cum? You wanna cum for Daddy?” 

His offer was enough to have you squealing if you weren’t gasping for breath with every powerful thrust, but you summoned the breath from within you to speak just a few simple words, “Yes please, wanna cum, let me cum please Daddy, have needed to cum all day I need it I need it please.”

Taking pity on you due to the desperation conveyed through your words James grunted his assent as he continued pistoning in and out of you. Eyes clenched as he felt your walls spasm around him, not wanting to cum quite yet.

You released a string of curses as you allowed yourself to tip over the edge of pleasure, putting up no resistance as it swallowed you in your entirety. You felt warmth rush through your every nerve as you became painfully aware of every sound and texture around you. 

The sounds of James’ low moans, the feeling of the silky sheets against your swaying breasts, the heat that emanated from your partner’s palms which had found sanctuary on the small of your back. It was like it was all sharpened to maximize the pleasure already coursing through your body, the feeling of James still moving in and out of you was intoxicating as your vision began to white over. 

The briefly sharpened senses faded, the noise in the room seemed to quiet to a low hum as you came down from your orgasm. But relief wasn’t what you were met with, instead it was James, still buried balls deep inside of you, allowing you to ride out your orgasm completely around his cock.

“Made such a fucking mess,” To prove his point James’ fingers dipped into the slick that had gathered at the apex of your thighs. Bringing the cum covered hand up he swiped the wetness off onto your back, adoring the way you looked covered in your own release. 

“Thank you, Daddy,” You blubbered, “Thank you for letting me cum.”

“Not quite done bunny,” James expertly flipped you from your knees onto your back, eyes watching hungrily as your tits bounced, nipples still hard from him playing with them earlier, “Daddy hasn’t cum yet, thinking I’m gonna cum on your pretty tits, look so hot when they bounce for me.”

Once you were settled in on your back James resumed his movements in and out of your cunt, he too was quickly approaching his release and the feeling of you around him was absolutely heavenly.

“So fucked out for me baby,” James grunted as his right hand found your throat, long fingers curling around your neck easily before squeezing lightly, watching the way your eyes went wide, “Stupid slut’s dumb on my cock. Giving you what you asked for and you’re too dumb to even try to work for it, I’ve gotta do all the work.”

You whined out at his degradation, squirming underneath him as his assault on your cunt overstimulated you to the brink of a second orgasm.

“G-gonna cum again Daddy,” You warned him, eyes fluttering shut as pleasure overwhelmed each of your senses. Even the room reeked of sex. 

“Are you there baby? Gonna cum twice before Daddy’s even cum once, greedy little thing,” James squeezed harder on your throat to the point where your mind became even fuzzier and a new sort of cloud settled over your mind. Just as the fuzz was beginning to get to be too much he released his hold on your throat.

Feeling himself approach orgasm James pulled out of your pussy, his hand quickly finding his cock and pumping it up and down as quickly as his wrist would allow him.

“Gonna cum on your tits baby, gonna cum all over your titties,” He moaned as he straddled your waist, continuing to work his cock in his hand.

“Fuck, m’gonna cum,” You closed your eyes as rope after rope of hot, white cum was shot across your tits, a few landing higher up on your body decorating your neck and one even reaching the side of your cheek.

“That’s it, that’s a good girl.”

You whined as the cum decorated your skin, making you even more pathetic looking than you already were.

“My slutty baby looks so pretty covered in my cum,” James smirked, collecting a line of cum off your chest on his finger before bringing the digit to your already parted lips. You dutifully sucked the digit into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it before he pulled it from the warm cavity.

“M’not slutty,” You insisted.

“No? What kinda good girl lets her Daddy cum all over her then?”

You were silent, too gone to even begin to pick that fight.

“That’s right like I said, you’re my dumb slut.”

tagging:@randomoutsiders @weasleyposts @amourtentiaa @kittykylax @superbturtlemakerathlete @oliviashea05 @pinkandblueblurbs @st0nesnglitter @thatvenusbabe @itsmentalillness @zzzfour @greenlyblue @emmaev @temporaryissue @gubleryum @msmb  @miraclesoflove @velmasteas @drachoesimp @ashlovesthemarauders @artemis1orion @skaratjung @ava-brooke-blog1 @fairyprettygirly @ohwowimlonley @padfootswife @roonilwazlibswhore 

#James potter x reader #James potter x you #james potter x y/n #james potter fanfic #james potter fanfiction #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #marauders #marauders x reader #harry potter imagine #james potter #marauders fanfic #James potter smut

[mrslilyrogers]

All I have to do is Dream Part 3

Pairing: Steve x Reader, Telepath! Reader (X-men reader)

Summary: It’s been five years since the snap. You and Steve are stuck at an impasse. You want a family, he doesn’t. He says he’s moved on but has he really? With your doubts growing, you consider risking his trust and use your powers on him to get your answers once and for all.

Author’s notes: This is late and not as long as I hoped it would be but hope you all enjoy! There might be one more part left to this series and maybe an epilogue. 

Eight voicemails and twelve messages. Eight voicemails and twelve messages from the person you wanted to talk to the most. Everyday for the past few weeks since you left, he called. And everyday your hands itched to reach out and call back but you stopped yourself. 

“I love her!” 

His voice echoed in your head. Enough was enough. Your fingers kneaded your temples, trying to alleviate the headache forming there. It didn’t help that there was a dark gnawing feeling in your gut, something was wrong. You knew it. A sixth sense, if you will. It happened the first time your powers manifested. You had been eight then, in front of the television with your dad when suddenly, your heart started to beat faster, your breaths coming in short pants, and your forehead dotted in sweats; a strong sense of foreboding crept under your skin and ever since then, life had never been the same. 

That night, you slept in a restless slumber; trapped under a heavy spell while you watched your father as a young boy. You had no idea how you knew the man who carried you over his shoulders, who seemed so strong and indestructible to your child’s eyes, was this same little boy you watched. You couldn’t understand it, you were dreaming but it was so real. Every detail as crisp as if you had been there and witnessed it. It wasn’t long before it all changed, everything before you cast in a darker shade, the people around you in black, sliding apologetic glances towards the somber boy standing in between his grandparents. You started to break out in a cold sweat, you were at a funeral. The boy’s parents, your father’s parents, just died. You ran, screaming, your heart racing, trying to find a way to get out. You couldn’t stay here, you couldn’t. But the more frantic you became, the more everything jumbled, bringing out his worst fears and nightmares and all you could do was scream, helpless and trapped. 

Oddly enough, that was how you felt now. Despite leaving Steve for the sake of the both of you, you were trapped, helpless to the niggling thought at the back of your mind that something was about to go horribly wrong. You tried to remember everything Xavier Institute has taught you, you were a telepath and with it came a natural intuition you couldn’t ignore. A heightened sense of empathy and awareness. 

You understood people even when they barely gave you a chance to be understood. You still remembered all those times people ran away from you. Those you considered your closest friends, even your teachers, treated you as if you were the plague. Their thoughts filled with dread and terror while you desperately tried to explain yourself but the more agitated you became, the more you lost control. It gave you no other choice but to distance yourself from them, getting homeschooled and keeping to yourself as much as you could. Your father tried his best, you knew he did but he could never look at you the same way. You didn’t have to get into his head to hear his cries at night, worrying and wondering where he went wrong.

It wasn’t long before Professor X found you and invited you to join his school for the gifted. School for the gifted. There was a time you couldn’t say that without a roll to your eyes, how could it have been a gift when all it ever caused you was sorrow? The day it was finally time for you to leave the only home you’ve ever known, your father’s relief was palpable in the air. He never gave voice to it and instead promised to visit as often as he could but even then, you knew he wouldn’t have been able to keep up. He visited you less and less as time went on until your relationship was reduced to a couple of phone calls barely lasting five minutes long. 

That was why you learned never to get too close. You owed to the X-Men who you were today. They had given you a place to call home, somewhere to belong to. For all the years you spent at the institute, they were nothing but kind to you, encouraging you, helping you hone your abilities and to cope with the loss of your former life. They gave you a fresh start, a new family and it should’ve been enough and in some ways, it is. But there was always a part of yourself you couldn’t give no matter how hard you tried and so the moment you could leave, you left. You wandered on your own, occasionally coming back to visit and catch up before leaving again, never planting any roots. That was the way you wanted it, that way you could never get hurt. 

Until Steve.

He instantly broke down your defenses and what was supposed to be a one-timer mission turned longer than you would’ve ever dreamed. You would’ve been lying if you said you didn’t stay with the Avengers because of him. The truth was as much as staying with them was fulfilling, there was a part of him that called out to you. You understood him, a man out of his time. Out of place. All you’ve ever felt your whole life. His loneliness drew you to him like a moth to a flame. He never showed it, too proud to admit it to himself but you knew it the instant you met him. He was untethered, burdened to continue on in a world he didn’t belong in. Your heart ached for him, for a man so lost that he only ever felt alive when he was at war. You tried to help him see the world with color again. “Ironic, coming from you,” you thought to yourself. But the more time you spent with him, the more your cynicism chipped away bit by bit until you became closer to the person you were before your abilities. Free to dream and love as you should’ve been. It was as if you needed him as much as he needed you. 

“Would you like a refill for that, honey?” the kindly old waitress asked, jerking you out of your reverie, her wrinkled face etched into a pitying smile. You shook your head and gave her your thanks, the dread in your chest intensifying once more. 

Look at where you are now, back to square one. 

You huffed at the tiny voice inside your head. She was right. Here you were, sat on a dingy couch at a diner in the middle of nowhere running from the people you loved the most. You looked at your phone again, the gnawing feeling in the pit of your stomach screaming at you to do something. You should at least call Nat, you thought to yourself. You’d been planning to call her anyway even though you always chickened out. That seemed the safest thing to do for your sanity, make sure they were alright then you’d be on your merry way again. It was the only way to calm your racing heart, to get rid of that sense of foreboding creeping up at you and pulling you down. You could just be anxious, right? Guilt and shame of leaving plaguing you before you could truly move on. After that phone call, everything will be put back to rights. You’ll feel better, you keep telling yourself. Only your mind wouldn’t listen. 

The ringing on the other end of the line kept you on edge and when Nat’s worried voice greeted you, you let out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding. 

“Y/N! Where the hell have you been? Steve has been looking everywhere for you! Do you know how worried we’ve been?”

You could hear the hurt in her tone and your heart broke at how you’d left things with your friend, completely forgetting about how she’d react when you impulsively decided to run away. But they were safe. At least, they were safe. Tears pricked at your eyes, you had no idea just how desperate you’ve become to hear her voice on the line, to know that nothing had happened in your absence and the stress of these past few weeks have just been taking its toll.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Nat--” you broke off, your voice cracking from trying not to cry. 

“I shouldn’t have left the way I did but it was just too much, I had to leave. I couldn’t stay, not after everything that happened,” you continued, sniffing through it, willing yourself not to break down to your best friend on the phone in the middle of a busy diner.

“I know, sweetie. Steve told me all about it.” She sighed, sounding tired, before continuing, “You know I will never pick any sides right? I’ll support whatever you decide.” 

“Thanks, Nat. I knew you would, I never doubted you. It’s just… it’s been a lot to take in and I can’t… I don’t know how to face him if…” you trailed off, not having the courage to continue what you knew all along. It was one thing to admit it to yourself but another to say it out loud to another person. It made it more real. More final. You picked at the hem of your shirt, shaking your head. It was as if Nat knew what you were thinking, she gave another sigh on the other end of the line.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to talk about it now. But Y/N, he really does love you. He hasn’t been the same since you left and--” she immediately cut herself off as if she was about to say something she shouldn’t. You didn’t miss her sharp intake of breath before she continued, “You should really talk to him, Y/N.” 

“Nat, what’s going on? Are you guys alright?”

You felt goosebumps on your flesh. Rubbing your free hand on your thigh, you tried to calm your racing nerves.

“No, no, we’re fine. Don’t worry--” she replied instantaneously, reassuring you but before she could continue, you cut her off, relief washing over you. 

“Good. That’s good. Cause for a while there, I thought you were gonna say something crazy. I’ve just been having this weird feeling that something big is going to happen. But I’m probably just being anxious. Sorry, what were you saying?” 

“You really do have that scary clairvoyant thing going on sometimes,” you heard her laugh at you, teasing, but before you could say anything else, she turned serious, 

“Y/N, we’re gonna try to bring everyone back,” her voice was filled with hope and determination that it made you pause, your brain struggling to keep up. 

What? Did you hear her right? 

She started to explain their plan but your mind was already spinning. You immediately left the booth, slapping a ten dollar bill on the table. Your frantic steps heading into the direction of your car parked outside.

“Nat, Nat, hold on. What do you mean you’re leaving? Traveling through time? Is that even possible?” You slammed the door on your car, your voice hushed as if scared to even wonder, heart beating rapidly in your chest. 

If she really meant what you think she meant then they were all going to risk their lives for an attempt to bring everyone back. But who knew if it would even work? What if they got lost? What if they never came back? You didn’t give yourself a moment to hope. This was too dangerous. Too quick and impulsive. You needed to talk to Steve.

Before Nat could reply, you heard him call her in the background, his voice authoritative and resolute. They were ready. They were going to leave now. 

“Nat, let me talk to him,” you heard yourself say without preamble. There was no need to think it through, it didn’t matter if he hated you, if he wanted nothing to do with you, you just had to talk to him. 

“Who’s that?” You could hear him ask in the background, his voice far, his footsteps approaching. 

The moment he realized who was on the other line, the moment he saw your picture flash on his friend’s screen, his hand shot out frantically for it, scared you’d leave before he even got a chance to hear your voice. 

“Y/N?” he asked softly, worried you might suddenly end the call. You could almost see the look on his face, eyebrows furrowed, eyes searching and concerned. 

“Steve,” All the emotions you felt carried out in a single name. Regret, shame, longing. That was all it took before you broke down into tears. If you hadn’t called Nat, if you had let even one more day pass by, your last fight could’ve been the last time you ever saw him. 

“Is everything alright? What happened? Are you okay?” he was suddenly alert, voice booming with concern and just a little bit of panic. 

“No, I’m fine, I’m fine. Nat told me everything. Are you leaving already? What’s going on?” you managed to choke out, trying to regain as much composure as you can. You heard him let out a sigh of relief on the other end. 

“Oh, doll. Don’t worry about us. It’ll be alright. We’ve got it under control, I promise,” he sounded so sure of himself, his voice so soothing, almost as if he were caressing your back like he usually does to reassure you. You heard his footsteps again and the closing of a door, you assumed he looked for a place more private, quiet. This time, you wouldn’t easily let up. 

“You can’t promise that, Steve. Let me come with you,” you pleaded, exasperation in your tone. You surprised even yourself, your hands already frantically moving to drive.  You had no idea what came over you, had no idea what you were even really getting into. All you knew was that no matter where you stood in your relationship, you’ve been through so much together, you couldn’t let him face this alone. 

“No. Absolutely not. It’s too dangerous, Y/N. Just stay where you are and I’ll come find you when all this is over,” his voice brooked no argument. You could already tell how he looked like, his head shaking vehemently, feet braced apart, eyes flashing with determination. 

“Steve--” you started, voice rising in return but he immediately cut you off. 

“Y/N, listen to me. I don’t have much time but please, just this once, promise me you’ll stay where you are. Keep yourself safe until I come find you--”

“No way am I--” you spoke over him, your patience wearing thin, panic rising in your throat. 

“Y/N, let me finish. Doll, I don’t have much time. We’ve already ran simulations and this works. We’re gonna get them all back but I can’t do that if I think you’re in trouble so please, baby, just promise me you’ll stay put. It’ll only be a minute for you. Just stay where you are, please. I can’t lose you, love.” his voice verged on desperation, making you pause. 

“I know I’ve said some things I can’t take back and god, do I fucking regret them every single day since you left but I love you. And if this fails and I don’t come back, I need to know you’re at least safe. I need you to promise me that,”

“Steve, don’t… don’t talk like that,” you shook your head, not acknowledging what he was saying. This was unfair. Steve was never one to be pessimistic, he never showed any vulnerability before a mission and the fact that he did now made your heart ache. He had one goal and one goal only, he wanted to right what he perceived to be his wrong. He was going into this fully prepared to give his life to get everyone back. But for you, the stakes were too high. Who knew the dangers of what the past held? What if something happens that would keep him there? 

“Love, please. We’re leaving soon,”

You let out a huge breath. “Just promise me you’ll be back?” 

You could almost hear the smile on his face, could almost see his shoulders sag with relief. 

“Then promise me, you’d stop driving while on the phone,” he joked, trying to make light of the situation. He knew how you could get when you excessively worried about him. He didn’t even realize how much he loved it until now that your fussing was reduced to a phone call. 

“Steve, I mean it,” you warned seriously. 

“When have I ever backed down from a fight? And this is just an extraction mission. I’ll be back before you know it, I promise,” his voice sounded so calming, you almost believed it. 

Despite his downplaying, you knew the risks. Time travel? Who could even say they’ve thought this would be possible even in their wildest dreams?

“I’ve gotta go, sweetheart. I love you. I’ll come to you as soon as all this is over,” you heard the scuffle of feet in the background, heard F.R.I.D.A.Y calling out to him, and suddenly, you didn’t have enough time. You had so much to say, so much to apologize for.

“Steve, wait--” you started desperately, ready to beg for forgiveness. 

“Don’t.” he cut you off quickly as if already knowing the direction you were heading in. 

“There’s no need, doll. I love you, we’ll make this work. I promise, I’ll do everything I can to make it work,”

He sounded so sincere, so forgiving that it made your lips tremble into a soft smile.

“I love you too, Steve. I’ll see you guys in a minute,” you replied, trying to sound as lighthearted as you could when you heard Nat scream it to you in the background. You didn’t want to psyche him out with your worry. This was the mission of his lifetime, everyone depended on him. 

You tried to ignore the heavy feeling in your gut, the fear crawling up your veins. 

Something is about to go wrong. 

Steve chuckled, finally feeling a weight being lifted off his chest, finally able to hope again. This was the future he looked forward to. 

“We’ll see you in a minute, baby,”  

You hoped to God you would. 

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

Author’s notes: This was tough to write since everything happens through a phone call. I tried to capture the tension of the situation through that and hope I did. As always, let me know what you think! Thanks for reading! 

#steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers angst #steve rogers fic #captain america #Steve Rogers