#That feeling when you loose your spirits of torment

[disarraydoodlez]

Christmas List Erased Day 24: The ghost of Christmas past, Family

I know these last two we're doing are MEGA late but Christmas really took it out of us. This was SUPPOSED to be on schedule to make everyone sad on the 24th right before Christmas but family obligations and tiredness absolutely destroyed us so we went for quality over quantity with this one. 23/25 is still a good ratio. We have one more picture for Christmas list erased prolly posting later today and mayhaps a doodle page and something else.

As always, thank y'all for all the support this blog has gotten, is been so epic making all of this art and seeing people enjoying it so much! The 25th is the one I've been the most excited for so please guess the characters and theme!

[harmonysanreads]

giving many kisses to 🕯️anon for their neuvillette masterpiece xx If 🕯️anon has anymore thoughts on yan!neuvillette, I’m begging for more. please allow me to add my own brainrots in the conversation <3

Imagine if neuvillette put on trial someone from a foreign nation. Maybe a sumeru scholar traveling to fontaine for their thesis or a liyuean opera trope performer recently gifted a trip to fontaine. someone deeply engrained with their nation’s culture.

Only to be imprisoned under false charges all under neuvillette’s direction. Once under false charges, they’ll never be allowed to leave fontaine again, either imprisoned and under guard or in debt in neuvillette and reliant on his word to maintain their innocence.

Imagine being forced into a perpetual cycle of Fontaine’s latest fashion trends, their old thin silky robes being traded for layers and layers of billowy skirts. To engage in daily rigid suffocating etiquette every second rather than the causal and loose atmosphere of their home. Listening to fontaine’s ballet and opera rather than Nilou’s free spirited dancing or traditional Liyuean opera.

All the cultural whiplash and rigid etiquette of both neuvillette and the public watching their every move with no support, no family would break anyone.

Perhaps while they feel as if they are alone, burning the midnight oil to polish over a mistake neuvillette harshly critiqued earlier, they hum a little melody. Something reminiscent of their homeland, a lullaby passed down from parent to child. Humming turns into small sobs until their tune is a cohesion of broken choking and nostalgic memories, crumbling under the weight of neuvillette’s now very present shadow next to their desk.

They say, home is where the heart is and you've never resonated with a sentence more in your life.

Before, the meaning of home used to be simple, mundane, something you wouldn't even consider that gravely. Home used to be the buzzing of the busy populace at the ports and streets, it used to be dishes dashed with spices of all kinds, it used to be the reassurance of familiar faces. These blurs of happenstances once made your heart flutter with solace, solace that home was at your fingertips. Now, they only torment you with regret for not cherishing them more — because as it is, humans only understand the value of something once that has been snatched away.

Your ears almost don't pick up the soothing hushes leaving Neuvillette's lips, his arms pressing you further in his embrace. Your tears stain his night-robe but he doesn't seem to mind. You allow it as well, your mind too broken to think, your body too numb to push and your being too desperate to let go of this gesture of affection. You should be furious at him for the things he's done, you should scream, kick, curse, hit —and he'd agree that you wouldn't be guilty of that. Normally, he'd take initiatives to harshly criticize this ungraceful behavior and then the lengthy programs to correct it and it'd go on and on til one of you broke (it's always you).

Even when Neuvillette initiates affection, it's never to actually comfort you. They're delivered as rewards because you followed his wishes. But at this night while the rest of Fontaine slumbers and you break, his arms feel secure for once. So you don't struggle and let him coo and hold you tight, you wonder if he adjusts his intentions precisely because you offer no resistance.

Your words sink in his clothes, only a ‘I want to go home’ escapes with enough coherence for it to catch the judge's attention. He lifts your face up to meet his gaze, fingers brushing away stray tears.

“You are at home, this is your home now.” you expected the words to be plain and stern, but they come off as whispers as well. You would've known even if he didn't bother to say, because he's inscribed them in your heart time and time again and tonight, at last, you've accepted it.

[screamingcrows]

La Sylphide inspired fic in which Diluc Ragnvindr wakes the morning of his arranged marriage and is enraptured by a beautiful figure fluttering around and giggling, reaching towards him but never touching. He goes through with the marriage to you regardless, he's a man of his word and no mirage, no matter how tempting, can sway him. He leaves to wander Snezhnaya half a year later after the untimely death of his father. When he returns, his darling wife has passed, Dawn Winery still in mourning and an Adelinde who can hardly bring herself to tell the young master, fearing that his heart cannot bear it. So she decides to wait until morning to say that your chambers are empty.

The sylphide appears again on his first night home, not that he feels home in the cold mansion, not anymore. The pale light reaches him through the windows, but when he looks down, nothing to loose, it's not the same woman, this is you, dancing around among the vines. His breath leaves him and he stumbles out, desperate to catch and hold you. Your smile is bright when he calls your name, and he swears to you that he will never again leave, breaking down completely and apologising, he promises to try this time, to be better, because you deserve a proper husband. He reaches to wrap his arms around you, grunting in confusion when you flit out of reach, an apologetic look on your shoulders before you disappear. He stumbles back inside, struggling to make sense of what happened.

After Adelinde confesses the following morning (she finds him asleep on a chair downstairs), he becomes obsessed, claiming it can't be true. He saw you. You spoke to him. He touched- no he didn't. You visit every night, and he spends the days scouring every book in Lisa's library and elsewhere. Anything he can find. A sketchy person contacts him, claiming they have the solution, a scarf woven from strands of elemental energy, drape it around her shoulders and her spirit will be tethered again. It will absorb the energy to regenerate. It sounds too good to be true, but he has to try.

As he drapes the shimmering fabric across your shoulders, horror spreads in your moonlit eyes before colour drains from your body into the light fabric. He catches you in his arms despite your protests, and in that moment, the last remnants of life leaves your lips in a quiet sigh of his name. Not sure if I'd want the other sylphs to come and torment him until he dies prematurely but yeah-

[cauliflowertree]

faramir - kiss me like you want to be loved.

summary: a long-awaited confession.

word count: 2.4k

fanfic no. 041

a/n: boromir lives because i say so.

it was a difficult farewell between the close brothers of gondor. but both were optimistic they would reunite not too far in the future—both were astute and praised warriors, trained from the day each of them could hold a sword upright.

between you and faramir, the cautious goodbye was somewhat tainted in awkwardness. neither of you were brave enough at the present moment to admit the feelings that plagued you both, effecting judgement, sleep and the completion of even minor tasks for many years now.

“farewell, y/n,” he spoke softly, a hitch in his breath, hesitantly raising an arm, wondering if he was crossing the delicate line of propriety.

“farewell, faramir,” you replied, abandoning predetermined notions of decorum as you finished what he had started, pulling him into a quick embrace, the first you had ever shared. and perhaps the last.

when you released him from your hold, his gaze was fixed upon you, awestruck from the emotions that arose within him from such a simple gesture, beginning to regret that he could not take his brothers place and curse the father that did not trust him with the task. with his mouth agape, and eyes almost sleepy, and heart in torment, he watched you back away from him, stepping into line with his older brother.

he was the last citizen of gondor to remain at the city’s uppermost region, watching you and his brother ride off into the horizon. as such, he felt an abyss form within his stomach, guilt rousing it all the more from the words he left unspoken. he had waved his brother off jeopardy, but of his life he was not as concerned as he was with yours. all his youth and adulthood, he had admired you from afar, shadowed you everywhere you ventured, unstable when he was not near you.

and now, you crossed middle earth without him, courage and bravery in your heart as you promised to fight for those who could not, if the task should fall to you. he had failed to seize the opportunity to reveal to you the object of his desires. and now, as you disappeared into the distance, he feared it was too late for another opportunity to present itself.

he may see no tomorrow, what with the armies of mordor inching closer to minas tirith, each time leaving gondor with fewer men to defend its borders.

but he hoped, he let himself hope.

｡+ﾟ☆ﾟ+｡★｡+ﾟ☆ﾟ+｡★｡+ﾟ☆ﾟ+｡★｡+ﾟ☆ﾟ+｡

the trials of the fellowship had taken much of your spirit, only to be stressed by the fall of gandalf the grey. the elderly wizard had provided you with much wisdom and a perfected skillset, and his absence was dearly felt, but by no one more than yourself, someone he might have considered his family.

frodo and sam had begun the disbandment of your company, leaving you behind to pursue a trickier path, but one they must face alone. boromir had been seriously injured, almost fatally, enough that merry and pippin had been captured by an orc pack. but they had now returned, safe and sound where they belonged. though, dear pippin could not stay out of trouble for long.

and gandalf, it seemed, could not stay fallen for long.

“what’s going to happen to me?” asked pippin gloomily, kicking pieces of hay in the barn as you waited for gandalf.

“nothing is going to happen to you, dear pippin. you are safe from sauron if you remain with me and gandalf,” you assured him, ruffling his loose, curly locks.

“how long have you known gandalf?” asked pippin curiously.

“oh! a long time now—since my infancy. he took me under his wing long ago, and i have much to be grateful for,” you smiled fondly.

“i don’t think he likes me,” pippin frowned. “but then, i suppose, i am very accident prone.”

“i think sometimes you do without thinking. but you are young, and gandalf knows this. but he has lived many years, and can sometimes forget what ails the youth, such as yourself,” you explained, and added: “he cares for your safety, otherwise he would not get so angry.”

pippin seemed to accept this truth with a sunny disposition, his mood greatly improving upon hearing your explanation, taking it for nothing but the truth.

“merry!” he cried, rushing off to greet his friend.

“y/n,” called boromir, offering you a full water canister, in addition to your own. “do send my brother my well wishes.”

“of course, boromir. i am sure he will be delighted to hear of you.”

boromir laughed lightly. “yes, a brother’s bond is strong. though, i am sure he will be much more inclined to be delighted with your return.”

you smiled bashfully, turning away as heat crept into your cheeks. a hearty laugh sounded from behind you, and boromir clapped your back. “i see much,” he reminded you. "safe journey!" he called as he exited the barn in search of aragorn.

with a weepy send off between merry and pippin, you, gandalf and pippin set off for minas tirith. a flutter in your heart arose at the chance of seeing faramir again, barely entertaining the thought that he had fallen to an orc’s sword or axe. faramir was the best of his ranks, no doubt he was alive and well. and boromir’s encouragement did little to settle your nerves—the thought of reciprocation was almost too much to bear.

three day’s ride felt like nothing, despite the tribulations you’d been through these past months, for faramir awaited at the end of your journey. as the white city peeked above the distant horizon, shaded with hues of pink and orange, you pushed faster through the expanse that kept you from your destination.

pippin slept against gandalf’s chest, somehow unbothered by the erratic journey. and before long, your two horses were climbing the streets of minas tirith, warning passersby of your coming. the white tree in pippin's vision stood strong, undead—a ray of hope remained for frodo and sam.

you were home.

some hours had passed in gondor, no faramir in sight, and within that time the steward had made perfectly clear he would not call for aide, nor would he accept the ranger as king. but it all temporarily came to naught as the cries of nazgûl sounded from beyond the city walls.

hundreds of horses raced from osgaliath across the grassy expanse, fleeing from the fight they could not win against such forces. the winged beasts took them from above, grasping several men and horses between their talons and launching them through the air.

your sank through your chest, palms instantly bearing sweat as you feared for faramir’s safe return. he was, quite clearly, outnumbered by many, though he had proved to make a rational decision in the midst of war by ordering his men to fall back. still, the terror that gripped you was all-consuming, almost enough to bring you to your knees, for you could scarcely bear to watch.

you turned to gandalf in silent, desperate worry, and he understood the urge you felt to flee the castle walls and help in some way if you could, if it meant they would be saved.

you and gandalf rode out. a light from gandalf’s staff, bright and unrelenting forced the nazgûl away and brought the army of men to safety, faramir included. you could see him, almost clearly in the ranks of his men, riding fast to the city gate. he dared to turn and meet your gaze. the fear had subsided, though the adrenaline remained, and you breathed a heavy sigh of relief, closing your eyes and letting the wind whip through your hair as you silently thanked silent forces for this fortune.

when the danger had slipped away, faramir dismounted his horse and wasted no time in approaching you. he was breathless, tired, but alert. it was a quick, silent moment you thought he might break with a laugh or a welcoming embrace, but instead, questioned you of his brother, to which you informed him of his safety and health. he turned to pippin with a start next, filling you and gandalf with unbridled hope as he revealed he had seen two halflings alive and well not so long ago.

and afterwards, with as much decorum between the two of you as distant strangers, he walked with you and gandalf to meet his father. quietly, he fell back in line with you, conversing with you rather formally, despite that not ten minutes before he almost deserted decency to embrace you without hesitation. but he restrained himself, for what reason he could not quite remember.

entering the castle, feeling, finally, much safer now that he was deep within the city, he let himself look at you. you seemed well, and he hoped that was how you truly felt too. he thought of you often in your absence, though over time, little details and intricacies of your features had slipped away from memory. but now that they were before him again, he smiled familiarly, admiring you for all that you were.

“i must replenish myself,” faramir informed you, hoping you might follow him so he would be blessed with a moment alone with you.

“yes, of course,” was your meek response.

he hesitated slightly, unaware if you had caught onto his subtle indication and were politely refusing or whether it had passed over your head completely. and so he left without another word, jaw clenched and shaking his head at the fool he had made himself look.

“well, aren’t you going to follow him?” asked pippin in disbelief when he was far enough away that his little comment would go unheard.

“whatever do you mean, little one?” you asked with a scoff.

“that is clearly a man who wishes to be followed!”

you trailed his gaze, catching faramir looking behind, but laughed it off instantly. “i- no. you’re mistaken.”

“i am not!” replied pippin, looking to gandalf for approval.

you looked to the old wizard yourself too, hoping for assurance on your behalf, but found nothing of the sort as he smirked at pippin and raised his eyebrows. with nothing leaving his lips, you understood perfectly the meaning of his silence.

most embarrassed by the scene, you hurried off in pursuit of the gentlemen who had left you behind in the hopes that you would follow. but for all your desires that he might wish for you the way you wished for him, catching the signs of this reciprocation was much more complicated than you might have imagined.

you turned down many passages, walked through several corridors, completely in the dark as to where he might have gone. you were so caught up in looking for him, in fact, that you missed him completely, and only found yourself face to face with the man when he called you back.

he had been staring at an old piece of art in the castle, one he must have seen and admired a dozen times before, but had needed something with which to occupy himself as he waited and hoped to see you.

“i was looking for you,” was all you spoke, unsure of how to begin.

“you found me, it seems,” he laughed. “with a little aid.”

he let his smile fade slowly, searching for the words in his crowded mind so that he might perfectly convey all that he thought in regards to his feelings for you. he gestured to an empty bench before the painting that hung tall, sitting close beside you.

“i have been meaning, for some time now, to tell you that which i have kept from you,” he began, keeping you on the edge of your seat. “from our youth, though i did not know it then, i have felt for you something i have never felt for another. and…” his breath was trembling, his eyes fixed to his hands. you took them warmly into yours, and this forced him to meet your eyes, where he found the utmost encouragement. “and when you left those weeks ago, i have regretted every moment since that i did not tell you then exactly how i felt.”

“and how do you feel?” you asked him, needing to hear it after so long.

“i feel…i feel as if- as if you- no. when i am in battle,” said he, “and my sword is kicked from my grasp, the enemy bearing down upon me, it is not, though perhaps it should be, for my men that i find the strength to stand again, to fight with my bare hands if i must. it is not for the approval of my father, nor even for my brother. when i am an inch from death, i find my strength in you, i find my courage in you. my hope, in the thought that i would see you again.”

“faramir,” you whispered through a breath of disbelief, that an honourable man such as he would care for you so deeply, a wayward soul under the influence of a wandering wizard. “i could not wish for a better man to have said these words to me. you are the best i could hope for, and truly i did hope for you,” you laughed through your tears, struggling to find breath under the weight of this joyous revelation.

“my y/n,” he chuckled, his teary eyes following the down-turn of your head as you pulled his hands up to your lips.

cupping your jaw delicately, he raised your eye-line to meet his, gazing upon you like a revered work of art. softly, he brushed your tears away with the pad of his thumb, leaning in cautiously but eagerly for something which the both of you had craved for an eternity. his mouth brushed yours tentatively, opening your lips to accommodate his own. and the pair of you were set ablaze, suddenly and feverishly reaching for each other as if you were not close enough already—his tunic gripped between your fingers, your hand over his neck while his arm snuck around your waist and fingers tangled into your hair.

distantly, he heard his father’s bellows, and it pulled him from you reluctantly. resting his forehead against yours, he regained much of the breath he had lost in your shared embrace, taking a moment to recover.

“i must go,” he said lowly, the baritone in his voice causing you to shiver.

“come and find me when you are done.”

“i would not think to do anything else,” he whispered, kissing the crown of your head before stoically marching towards his father’s inevitable disapproval.

though his approval, in comparison to yours, was trivial.

🏷 @velvetcloxds @entishramblings

[saintmurd0ck]

Oh, Rhi. When I saw this, I knew I had to send in a request 😆❤️

And because I'm in such a fluffy mood, could I pretty please have some major fluff with Frank Castle? Maybe a love confession? 🙈

Feel free to ignore, I'm just a fluffball today and Frank needs some love 😍

death and taxes

frank masterlist | sleepover masterlist

awwww lily i am in a mortifyingly fluffy mood and simultaneously yearning for the man that is frank castle... so please rejoice in these thoughts with me. please note the photo is a little misleading cause this thing be angsty (a little) BUT ANYWAY i hope you like it!

frank doesn't know why it's taken him this long to say it. 

he thinks it's partially denial, but like many aspects of his life, there's a thin layer of silt that's settled over this feeling, that causes it to numb, despite the heart loudly pounding in his ribcage in earnest. for you.

he glances at the alarm clock on the bedside table, wincing at the time. it's 4.24 in the morning. he looses a heavy sigh before turning back onto his side, staring intently at the steady rise and fall of your chest, at the blissful expression painted on your face.

the sun is far from rising, moonlight barely drifting past the curtains, but there's an ethereal glow about you. there's a dull ache that spreads in frank's chest, symbiote-like as it snakes outwards, reaching into every shadow-filled nook and cranny within.

it pains him--loving you pains him. it's a sweet kind of agony, one that pairs fitful sleep and tormenting nightmares with the goodness of your soul, the understanding and kindness that seep from your actions into the centre of frank's transgressions. after all, you're the only person left in his life that sees him for who he truly is. 

there are days when he is weary, when his self-loathing echoes above your adoration, when he questions all of what he deserves. he doesn't know if today will be one of those days, where the roaring in his head dulls every other sense about him.

but he knows it's time. it's long overdue. 

and he knows he's got a shot with you. it's a chance of redemption, even if the odds are slim.

frank grits his jaw as the phantom pain spreads, catching stiffly in his joints, in his breathing. this is real, he reminds himself. it's not a nightmare. he moves closer to you, pressing a gentle kiss to your spine, inhaling the scent that's become home to him.

as it does every once in a while, the voice of mario castiglione blossoms in his memory. frank's father. his lilting sicilian accent rings clear. 'when you meet the one, you'll know. you'll know, because the love will be as real as the two things in life that are certain.' frank can still see the two fingers his dad would hold up. 'death, and taxes.'

death and taxes, indeed.

frank chuckles softly, supplementing his father's memory with a new one of his own. "wanted to wait until you were awake to say this, but if i don't do it now, i'll lose my nerve."

he pauses as you stir, mumbling his name, resuming only when he's certain you're fast asleep. "shoulda said it the first time i laid eyes on you, sweetheart. but here we are." 

he nudges himself once more. as real as death and taxes.

"i love you. i sure as hell don't deserve you, but you're here, huh? hell, i'll spend every goddamn day makin' it up to you... to, i dunno, prove myself."

the confession is freeing, easing the weight on his shoulders, one word at a time. frank can't remember the last time he's spoken to anyone with this sort of grace, or vulnerability. it's liberating, and he feels it--mind, body and soul. 

"i love you," he whispers, scooping you into his arms, holding your bodies as close as he can muster. as if the dam has broken, it comes tumbling out; a mantra, a tangible prayer. "i love you, sweetheart."

'i love you i love you i love you,' his spirit sings.

tags {x} @marvelswh0re @murdock-and-the-sea @itwasthereaminuteago @devils-dares @mattmurdocksscars @castlesnchurches @mindidjarin @pedrito-friskito @sweetieswiftie @honeyedheartss

tagging some of my frank besties cause i'm so fucking proud of this one

[moodybluezzz]

Sleepover - Rohan Kishibe x Reader

[Content: SFW, fluff, gender neutral Y/N, warning for description of nightmares/night terrors, fear, and Kira being creepy]

[Word count: 2.7k]

How did I end up here? Standing on a mangaka's porch in the middle of the night?

You had lived in Morioh for your entire life - content with your peaceful, albeit lonely, routine. You found it surprisingly difficult to make friends in the small town, spending most of your time reading and drawing on your own instead. That is, until a year ago, when you crossed paths with a peculiar cast of characters and your life changed. You had recognized a few of the boys - Josuke, Okuyasu, and Koichi - since they attended school nearby and frequented many of the same shops and restaurants as you. However, your interest in the group spiked when you began hearing mutters of a killer on the loose, and strange beings known as "Stands" that held powers beyond your imagination. After running into the boys so many times, it began to feel as though fate was bringing you together somehow. One day you mustered the courage to start a conversation and managed to befriend the rowdy teens. From there you became part of the group, helping out however you could despite your lack of a Stand. As a result you also became familiar with Jotaro Kujo, a stoic man visiting Morioh to investigate the Stand Users, and Rohan Kishibe, a stubborn mangaka, each possessing Stands of their own and aiding in the mission.

From the start you couldn't help but find yourself drawn to Rohan, not only admiring his abilities but also seemingly tolerating his bold personality more than the rest of the group. Though you could admit he was a prick sometimes, you longed to get to know him even just a little more and felt comfortable around him nonetheless.

Now you were at Rohan's doorstep at 3am on a cold fall night, your arms wrapped tightly around yourself as you hoped that he heard your knocking. Ever since the fateful battle with Yoshikage Kira, you found yourself plagued with nightmares and a general nervousness about the town. It was as though Kira's evil spirit itself was haunting you. Tonight your nightmares were worse than usual, waking you terrified with no chance of falling back asleep. You hurried to the one person who was guaranteed to be awake at this hour - Rohan. Glancing nervously around the dark, you shuddered at the thought of some twisted Stand User leaping out of the darkness to torment you like Kira did to so many others. You knocked again, this time more frantic. Just as your mind began playing tricks on you in the darkness, Rohan opened the door. You leapt through the doorway, nearly into his arms, and he stepped back in surprise with an annoyed look.

"There must be a slumber party at my place tonight, did I miss the memo? Seriously, what are you doing, Y/N." He crossed his arms.

"I-I'm sorry, Rohan! It's just… I had a nightmare…"

"And you came here why?" Rohan stared at you skeptically.

"I thought… Maybe you would be able to help make sense of these dreams… You're into scary paranormal stuff, right?"

"Scary paranormal stuff. Right." He rolled his eyes. "Look, just close the door and come in." He sighed and started walking through his lavish living room and toward the kitchen. "Let's just sit down and chat." You followed carefully behind Rohan; All the lights were off due to the late hour. You had been here a few times before with the others but the mansion still never failed to impress you. You felt a brief wave of pity for Rohan, wondering if it ever got lonely living alone in such a big house.

At last you arrived at the kitchen, Rohan motioning for you to sit down at a candle-lit dining table. His sketchbook sat open in the flickering light - he must have been drawing before you arrived. He sat across from you, the warm light illuminating his face. He leaned down, resting his elbow on the table and his chin on his hand.

"So, tell me about these nightmares."

You did your best to describe the dreams, starting vaguely in worry that Rohan might not take you seriously. However, as you went on his expression changed to one of concern, inviting you to open up. You told him all about the horrors you faced at the hands of the Stand User in your dreams, the sleepless nights and the anxiety that washed over you as the sun set on Morioh each day. You stopped and sat in silence, shaken up by the mere memory of your nightmares. You fidgeted your hands nervously on the tabletop, before glancing up and meeting Rohan's deep green eyes. The candlelight made them shine brilliantly, and you couldn't help but get lost in them. You wondered what was going on in Rohan's mind as he stared into your soul. After a long moment you snapped out of it, averting your gaze and blushing.

"Stay here for the night." Rohan spoke firmly. "We can't have you running off in the middle of the night again. We have to get this fear out of you." You were shocked at his willingness to help you and ever-so-slightly excited. Rohan continued. "Your fear isn't irrational per say. We all remember what Yoshikage Kira did. But it's been a year since then and this paranoia can't go on. Maybe it'll help to get some rest knowing there's a Stand user in the house." He stood. "I'm going to make tea. If you want some, you can."

You watched as he swiftly brewed a small pot of tea, mesmerized by the way his body moved in the dim light. He was wearing a much more casual outfit than you were used to seeing, though it still reflected his extravagant fashion sense.

You wondered how many times he had done this, brewing tea for himself at some late hour to fuel his nighttime drawing sessions. Had he ever wished he had someone to share it with?

Rohan set two elegant teacups on the table and poured out some for each of you. "This will help you relax."

You waited for him to sit back down before taking a sip and sighing.

"This is the best tea I've ever had! Thank you, Rohan… Really…"

Rohan smirked. "It's just tea, nothing special." You were tempted to tell him it was special just for the fact he made it. However, you held back. You finished your tea quickly and Rohan set the dishes aside. "You should get to bed. I can see the exhaustion in your eyes."

You felt ever-so-slightly self conscious. "Where do you want me to sleep? I can take the couch if you'd like-"

"No, no. There's guest bedrooms upstairs. Let me show you the way."

You followed Rohan, hoping to finally enjoy a restful sleep. He opened a door just up the stairs and flicked on the light.

"Go on. Now get some sleep. My bedroom is right next door if you need to know where the bathroom is or something." You thanked him and he closed the door, leaving you alone. The room was decorated plainly yet elegantly, and the bed was made perfectly as though no one had ever slept in it. Maybe they hadn't. You shut off the light and plopped down on the mattress.

It's even softer than I expected!

Rohan was right - you must have really needed to catch up on rest. And you did feel safer knowing he was right next door. You fell asleep the moment your head hit the pillows.

…

Darkness.

A path lit only by flickering yellow streetlights.

Walking past rows of identical townhouses. This is Morioh.

Your footsteps echoing through the night.

Why are you here?

Footsteps that are not your own.

Running.

Faster footsteps. He's behind you.

Hands grabbing you from behind. Holding you back.

Can't turn around but you know who is there.

The figure of a creature emerging from the darkness ahead. A Stand.

Piercing pink eyes tearing into your soul. Gloved hands reaching out for you.

Kicking, screaming to no avail, screaming for Rohan. Help me, Rohan! He's got me!

He's a Killer Queen

Gunpowder, gelatine

Dynamite with a laser beam

Guaranteed to blow your mind.

…

"Y/N! Y/N, stop! You need to wake up!"

You finally came to, Rohan struggling to hold you still with a frustrated expression. You were kicking and screaming and begging Kira to let you go. You gradually processed what was happening and burst into tears, giving in and clinging to Rohan desperately. He was silent and still for a moment, before hesitantly resting his arms around you. You buried your face in his chest and gripped his back, not caring if he pushed you away and scolded you. However, Rohan stayed still and silent, taken aback by the sudden contact. He slowly wrapped his arms around you, searching for the right words.

"Just… breathe. You're safe, I promise." Your sobs gradually grew more sparse and eventually stopped altogether. You looked up at Rohan, your face hot and tear-stained. Something in his expression changed as he looked down at you.

Without a word he got up, grabbing your hand and guiding you off the bed and to your feet.

"Come to my room. Let me help you." You rubbed your eyes and followed him out of the room and into his own, looking over your shoulder into the darkness of the house every so often. You could just make out the shape of Rohan's bed in the darkness. He sat down near the pillows and patted the spot in front of him. Once you joined him, he reached out and put his hands on your trembling shoulders.

"I didn't want to have to jump to this, but let me use my Stand to help you. Heaven's Door can erase all of this." You shuddered. You were present when Rohan used his Stand in the past - a clever yet invasive power. He had noticed how much it intimidated you and avoided using it on you until now. You gulped.

"It will only take a moment, and when you open your eyes everything will be okay."

You scooted closer to Rohan and nodded, closing your eyes. He focused his gaze on you and whispered.

"Heaven's Door!"

Your consciousness faded as Rohan laid you down and opened your mind like a book. You felt… vulnerable. But at this point you didn't mind. As long as you were in Rohan's hands, everything was okay.

It felt like only an instant passed before you opened your eyes. Your mind felt unexplainably clearer. You looked up at Rohan, who was sitting beside you, his legs hanging off the side of the bed.

"...I made some edits. I didn't completely wipe your memory of the dreams - I didn't want you waking up wondering how you ended up in my bed. That would've been a pain to explain. But you won't be having any more. Okay?"

You nodded, relieved. It was as though your fear was erased - literally.

Rohan gazed off into the darkness for a long moment.

"...Why are you so intrigued by me?"

In your panic you had completely forgotten that Heaven's Door allowed Rohan to read all of your thoughts - and you had no doubt he did some snooping. You hesitated to answer. There was just something about Rohan - his attitude, his outfits, his talent, the way he directed his dry jokes at you when you were with the others because he seemed to know you'd get it the most. You knew there was more to him than the cold front he put up in public, and you wanted to find it. And you had to admit, he was attractive…

"Heh. I guess I didn't have to ask. I bet right now you're thinking of the very things I already saw." You scrambled for an excuse before Rohan reached down and turned your chin toward him. You blushed hard and stared into his eyes, their emerald hue just visible in the dark. He leaned down close.

"This is what you imagined I would do when we were in the kitchen, is it not?"

He so knew what he was doing to you, though he kept his poker face all the while. You couldn't deny you liked it deep down.

"Tell me." Rohan whispered firmly. You turned, facing away from him in embarrassment. You felt him lean over you, his face mere inches from yours.

"Your silence speaks volumes."

He pulled back and laid down on the other side of the large bed. Your heart raced as you debated whether to turn over and try to explain yourself or leave him be. You decided not to dig yourself into an even bigger hole, closing your eyes and focusing on getting back to sleep instead.

Just as you began to drift off, you felt a weight shift on the bed behind you, followed by a firm chest on your back and arms wrapping carefully around your body. You opened your eyes, wondering if you were dreaming.

"What are you doing, Rohan?" You mumbled tiredly.

The man was silent at first before leaning close to your ear. You could feel his warm breath on your neck - an indescribable sensation shooting down your body. You gasped quietly.

"I'm just going to protect you for the night. Don't get too excited." Rohan snuggled closer, spooning your whole body in his. "Besides, you wanted to be closer to me, right? Well now you are." He whispered smugly, a teasing tone in his voice.

You closed your eyes, taking in the feeling of Rohan's tall, slim body against yours.

You broke the silence. "There's just… Always been something that made me want to be special to you…"

Rohan was silent for a moment.

"You are special to me."

Your heart fluttered as you took in his words. Deep down you hoped he would say more, but he held back. Stubborn as always.

"...Goodnight, Y/N."

You fell asleep to the feeling of Rohan's hands running soothingly along your side, and up and down your arms. You had no dreams that night.

When you woke you were alone in the bed. You could hear the faint sound of dishes clinking in the kitchen downstairs. Rohan must have gotten up before you (unsurprisingly, the guy seemed to never sleep.) You laid there for a moment, enjoying the warm sunlight pouring through the windows and the lingering smell of Rohan's expensive cologne in the air. For a moment you had to ask yourself if last night was a dream. You sat up, realizing you hadn't brought a change of clothes.

Your eyes settled on Rohan's closet.

You opened the tall sliding doors to reveal a walk-in closet packed with designer clothes. You scanned through the shelves - some outfits you easily recognized, others you had never seen him wear at all. You settled on a comfy white sweater and pants to match. His clothes were ridiculously baggy on you due to your height difference, but they were certainly comfortable.

You headed downstairs to find Rohan finishing breakfast, two plates waiting on the table. He glanced up at the sound of your footsteps and his eyes widened.

"W-Where did you get those!?" You couldn't help but giggle at his surprised expression.

"I forgot to bring a change of clothes, I hoped you wouldn't mind," you said in a sweet but teasing tone. Rohan crossed his arms.

"Fine. Just sit down, your food is going to get cold." You swore you heard him mumble: "You're lucky you're cute."

A tense silence filled the room as you ate. How could you have gotten so up close and personal last night but feel so awkward now? Every once in a while Rohan stole a quick glance at you and your outfit; he must have thought you didn't notice but you most certainly did.

Finishing your food, you looked up at Rohan. "Thank you for helping me last night. Really. I slept better than I have in… Well… at least a year." Rohan kept his eyes on his plate, but you couldn't help but catch a blush cross his face.

"...Don't mention it."

…

Josuke and Okuyasu walked casually down the road as they headed home from school. Okuyasu perked up. "Hey, aren't we about to pass Rohan's house? I wonder what he's been up to."

Josuke frowned. "Oh yeah, you're right." I'd rather not know honestly... He quickened his steps before Okuyasu put a hand on his shoulder.

"Oi, Josuke! Isn't that Y/N over there?" Josuke looked up, spotting you walking home from Rohan's house.

Okuyasu squinted. "Since when did Y/N dress so fancy! Wait... Don't those clothes look familiar…?"

The two slowly turned to each other.

[lemon-dokuro]

Ikigusare - Oiwa-san Rock

The song, the lyrics (with an english translation by me) and some commentary are below.

Japanese, directly from the subtitles in the video:

映画 お芝居やるのなら お参りしないと祟られる お名前 口にするのなら 敬称つけぬと祟られる

そんな猛烈な呪い お江戸の時代から 今この現代まで ずっと続いてるなんて

なんて凄まじい情念でしょう なんて素晴らしい怨念でしょう どうすれば貴方様のようになれるのかしら 誰か私に毒を盛って

鏡の前 髪をすくと ズルリ ゴッソリ 抜け落ちる ご遺体 釘付けされた 戸板 川に浮かび上がる

そんな恐ろしい場面 ひどく陰惨な場面 そんな時も貴方様 お美しいのですね

なんて凄まじい情念でしょう なんて素晴らしい怨念でしょう どうすれば貴方様のようになれるのかしら 誰か私に毒を盛って

なんて凄まじい情念でしょう なんて素晴らしい怨念でしょう どうすれば貴方様のようになれるのかしら 誰か私に毒を盛って English:

Filming a movie, writing a play, Visit her grave, or you'll get cursed. Saying her name, Address her properly, or you'll get cursed.

Such a powerful malediction, dating back to the Edo times, They say it still goes strong to this day.

Such great passion, isn't it? Such wonderful hatred, isn't it? Ah, what must I do to become like you? Somebody, give me that poison!

In front of the mirror, you're combing your hair. It's so loose that it falls out completely. A corpse nailed to a board Rises to the river's surface.

What a horrific scene, what a scene of terrible despair. Even in such a moment, you are more beautiful than ever...

Such great passion, isn't it? Such wonderful hatred, isn't it? Ah, what must I do to become like you? Somebody, give me that poison!

Such great passion, isn't it? Such wonderful hatred, isn't it? Ah, what must I do to become like you? Somebody, give me that poison!

Commentary (explaination + personal thoughts):

Obviously, this is referencing Yotsuya Kaidan, a classic japanese ghost story and kabuki play. I suggest reading or watching a retelling of the story to get the whole context. This is what you'll need to know to understand the lyrics... Basic: Oiwa is the main character of Yotsuya Kaidan. The story isn't very consistent between its different versions, but the gist is that her husband Iemon betrays her and her family in several ways, mainly by killing her father and then having an affair with a different woman. That woman later poisons Oiwa so that Iemon can marry her instead. When Oiwa dies, she becomes a vengeful spirit and torments Iemon. This is a very basic summary of her part in the story. Verse 1: There's a belief that when making an adaptation of Yotsuya Kaidan, be it a movie or a stage play, the cast, crew and other creators should visit Oiwa-san's grave and shrine and ask her to bless their production, lest her curse befall them. The part about adressing her properly isn't anything I recognise, but I imagine you'd have to be pretty polite when talking to a vengeful spirit who may curse you. Bridge 1: The story is set in the Joukyou era (~1684-1688) and loosely based on an incident that happened in the Genroku era (~1688-1704), which are eras in the Edo period (1603-1868). The play was written in 1825. Chorus: Oiwa was tricked into disfiguring herself with a poisonous facial cream. That's the poison being sung about. Because of it, her eyes started drooping and her hair partially fell out, among other things. Her disfigured face is particularly iconic, especially how Iemon kept seeing it everywhere after her death. Verse 2: Lines 1-2: In the play and in adaptations, there is usually a scene of Oiwa combing her hair in front of a mirror and it falling out from the poison. From what I know, the scene is a tragic and horrific play on a type of sexy fan-service scene in kabuki plays where a beautiful woman combs her long hair. Lines 3-4: When Oiwa eventually dies (either from the poison, from despair or from both), her body is nailed to a board and dumped into a river by her husband. Later, when he's trying to fish, he catches her, nailed to that board.

Anyway, I really like this song. It sounds gentle and romantic, even though it really isn't. I like the traditional japanese feel it has despite (to my knowledge) not having any straightforwardly traditional musical elements. Ikigusare is kind of hit-or-miss for me musically, but when it's a hit, that song quickly becomes one of my favourites. The lyrics are rather nice and well-written, though I can't help but feel like some of them are pretty generic. The visuals, though, are spectacular every time and I have nothing bad to say about them. The low-poly music videos add so much surrealism and mistique to the songs, a lot of which wouldn't be very remarkable in a different entourage. The girls' stilted dancing and position switching only adds to that surreal feeling. The girls themselves have amazing designs, very simple and striking. The one-two-three eyes pattern, their image colours being very basic and distinct (RGB, literally), their constantly changing themed outfits and the unique slightly grotesque twist on a common idol persona look that each girl has make them work very well as a unit, especially a horror-themed one. Overall, a rather interesting group/artist. I have at least four Ikigusare songs that I want to translate and post. I'll do it at some point in the near future if nobody beats me to it.

[sovonight]

more xadri scraps

———

X: I gazed upon you, and the expansiveness of our impending time apart dawned on me. A month without your eyes, your scent, your lips… felt like it would be an eternity. I could not allow myself the temptation of a farewell.

His gaze is cast downward, carefully avoiding her eyes, while his longing pulls at her heart.

R, soft: Will you look at me?

X, sighing: You are determined to break all you can of me before I leave, I see.

As he meets her eye at last, she can see how he has already begun to miss her—and in this moment, she can forgive the way that he had tried to leave without her farewell. She hugs him, and though he hesitates for a moment, he collapses into her, his arms holding her tight. Close, she feels his emotions grow stronger, more complex; rather than interpret them, she just feels them as they are, knowing these are the last moments their bond will light up at their closeness for another month.

X: …Estel'amin… I must…

X: I must go. I should already have been on my way…

Though his arms release their circle around her, they remain in a loose embrace, loathe to truly leave just yet.

R: But you checked over your things… you lingered… you made just enough noise so that I would wake. With or without meaning to, you wanted me to see you…

Xan remains silent, but his heartbeat gives him away, and his skin has grown warm against her cheek; she smiles, teasing.

R: What was it you said you would miss about me, again? My eyes, my scent, my—?

X, soft, breathy: Everything.

Xan pulls away to look her in the eyes, longing apparent in his. A little laugh escapes her, nervous and shy before his sincerity.

R: W-well—I can't send you off with my everything, but…

She kisses him on the cheek.

R: I can kiss you farewell.

She smiles, pink and blushing over her boldness now that she's under his gaze, but Xan makes no move to leave now that she's released him; instead, he meets her in a kiss on the lips.

———

R, smiling, commenting: You're in a good mood.

X, grandly: Irenicus is dead, you are whole again, and I can feel your heart clearly once more—and most importantly of all, we are alive, and together. I am sure that tomorrow, our grim reality will make short work of these victories and bring new tragedies upon us, but for the moment a genuine sense of joy is all I feel.

Radri's smile grows; she rarely gets to see him quite like this.

R, teasing: Does this mean you'll enjoy tonight's festivities? Will you drink and dance and make merry?

X, rolling his eyes: Not to the extent that you are surely imagining. But yes, this is one evening in which I may… if my beloved joins me.

Radri's smile fades.

R: I don't know. I feel obligated to show my face, but…

X: The moment you are no longer needed, you will make your escape. Yes, I remember.

Radri grows embarrassed; he's talking about the celebration in Baldur's Gate.

R: It's alright. You don't have to join me this time… You should enjoy yourself.

This time, they're not celebrating among humans, but among elves—and as secluded as the forest elves are, they must still be more appealing and familiar company to him than the crowd of nobles at the Ducal Palace. Xan, however, raises an eyebrow at the notion that he might enjoy himself more without her.

X: I prefer to be with you, Estel'amin, as I did that evening. …Unless that was a subtle hint that you wish to be alone, tonight.

A pang of loneliness strikes her at the thought of everyone enjoying themselves without her; she would do little alone but sit in their room, overthinking.

R, quietly: Of course I want you with me.

X: Then, shall we retreat here and hold our own celebration?

———

It takes him a split second longer to register her words, and when he does, he delivers a flat look in response to her teasing one.

X: Where the rest of the world sees a ruthless Bhaalspawn, or a timid adventurer, I alone am shown the truth: you are a mischievous spirit who exists only to tease and torment me.

R, amused: I'm sure I do other things for you, too.

X: Vex me, worry me...

R: Love you, hold you...

Her arms are still around his waist, and she interlocks her fingers at the small of his back, smiling up at him. He sighs, meeting her smile with his own in a soft kiss.

X, murmuring: That too, I suppose.

———

Truth be told, her thoughts hadn't made it this far ahead—they had stayed at the celebration, contemplating the thrum of his longing through the bond stretched between them with a quiet delight. Perhaps she had danced around him, drawing his attention by disappearing from his sight, only to greet his flushed face with a teasing smile at the way that he had so quickly, quickly made his excuses to follow her…

X: Estel'amin…?

She's been silent too long—her face is burning. Rather than impatient, however, Xan looks as if this expression of hers, too, is its own little feast.

———

Radri smiles and tucks a lock of his hair back, caressing the length of his ear as she does so—prompting a new bloom of pink in his cheeks.

"Hmm... Yes, there are still plenty of other ways to make you blush," she concedes. Xan gives her a flat look.

"So that was your design," Xan says. "I warn you: what you chase will become more difficult to incite over time. I will develop an immunity to your charms."

"I will enjoy myself thoroughly while you're still vulnerable, then," Radri says, and nestles in against him, pressing her lips against his neck in another kiss. She feels him remain stern and tense for another kiss more, then as her warmth and love and contentment flood their bond, he relaxes with a soft exhale.

"It is hopeless," Xan sighs, and holds her close.

[izvmimi]

cw: part of cursed!reader series.

mirai-shourai has been quiet all day and the anger you swallow in your throat is thick and bitter as you try to keep your emotions in check. to think that your endless tormenter has decided to leave your side at a time like this, when it's dire and you need it more than ever is cruel, even for the cursed spirit itself. your shoulders are weightless, and you take a deep breath in as you remember the last thing it said to you, weeks before today.

kento will die soon.

no other detail than that, but somehow you know in your soul that it'll be today, even if you have no proof. but what more can you say than the eternally useless words, be careful.

shibuya station.

your fingers twitch as you gather with the remaining sorcerers and students who have answered this call to action. gojo is unreachable, and you don't know if your friend is with him or not, but she is unreachable as well, which doesn't particularly bode well.

the veil stretches before you, and you will only know if you enter within.

kento glances at you, and you shake your head slowly, without saying a word. there are multiple questions in his obscured gaze. what do you know? why are you shaking?

are you coming with me?

you can only answer the last one.

perhaps you are still rusty and your hand to hand combat skills are not particularly up to par after years sitting at a desk and doing the bare minimum, but your cursed energy materializes into a sniper rifle just as easily as it did when you were just a couple years out of graduation. you take a deep breath and step forward, only to hear nanami speak directly to you for the first time.

"no."

a small gasp leaves your throat. stricken dumb by his sudden statement, loud enough for other sorcerers, even students to hear, you feel a sudden wash of embarrassment run through your features. nanami doesn't seem to recognize why you've been so immediately taken aback but he also doesn't seem to care. instead he clarifies,

"stay out here and protect the civilians."

you tense, the loose fingers of your left balling into a fist, the fingers of your right tightening its grip around your weapon. rather than aggravate the situation further, you decide to laugh it off.

"kento, you're not my father, come on." you step further, but he's not laughing with you, the same stern face he keeps with everyone now pointed towards you. your heart pounds in your chest.

he doesn't say another word and the two of you hold gazes at the moment - you demand an explanation; he will give you none. but you know - if you take another step, he'll be furious and somehow... you look around and grit your teeth.

you don't want to create a scene, but he's right. you haven't fought in years, you'll only slow everyone down. if anything, you can protect, you can use your sight, but otherwise...

all gazes are turned suddenly to the sound of yuuji calling for nanami.

"gojo-sensei has been sealed!"

the very air shifts. nanami no longer plans to fight you and re-strategizes. your rifle vanishes and you concentrate.

mirai-shourai, tell me something, anything, you whisper into the darkness of your conscious. the cursed spirit is silent and if you could, you would strangle it.

"we're meeting up with itadori at once."

megumi and ino follow, the latter glancing back at you for a moment, seeing the look in your eyes, but saying nothing.

and you have nothing else to say at this time. kento will not believe you if you prophesize his death right now, and even worse, if he does believe you, it won't stop him from going anyway. if anything, it'll make it unforgivable for you to follow him despite his best wishes and try to keep him safe.

you turn on your heels, trying to storm off without making it apparent. a few moments pass and you look at your phone, then look back. he's long gone.

you know he will hate you for this, but you have to.

please don't die, you text, and you materialize your weapon again, your first target, a cursed spirit, suddenly in your sights.

[uroboros-if]

All that lasts forever

I really like MC's titles. Whenever I'm drawing and sketch my MC, I write, "Deity of Eternity, a universal constant without dominion." I know that isn't entirely true, but it can certainly feel like that at times.

Also, I'm curious about the deities and their god cores? Can the centers of being can be damaged? Is it like a soul? Can gods die? If they lose their mortal vessel, do they just return to the Astral? Can they come back?

That is such a lovely phrase, though!! Woefully ironic, and yet true at the same time.

Even the form of the gods are unclear to me, as they are supposed to be above human comprehension—it would be counterintuitive to know so much about it. However, what I do know about it is that gods have a core. They are, in truth, made up of special matter from the Universe called rajo. Their amorphous being is very loosely connected through their core.

Harming a god's mortal body with a normal weapon will not harm their core. However, it can be harmed, with the right material. What this material is, I cannot say for now!

This is not a soul, however. Most living beings have certain Universe matter that allow them to be "changeable"; gods have very little of this, and thus they can be quite resistant to change. This is perhaps by design, as they are meant to be steady pillars of their world, not easily changed or influenced. Although, very little is known about what is deliberate or spontaneous when it comes to the Chaotic Universe.

This matter that allows beings to be "changeable" is also eternal. Unlike rajo, it remains forever. As humans have a lot of this, they have some form of "soul" that allows them to persist in some shape, even after they die. Hence, why the gods, namely Luciel, created the afterlife for them—a place where their restless spirits can remain. Other animals are able to return themselves back to the Universe, and so they may go peacefully without the torment that is "forever."

So gods can indeed die when their core is severely damaged. Unlike humans, they will die forever, and there will be little to no trace that they ever existed.

This is a bit of a lore-heavy ask, but if you made it all the way through, I hope that was intriguing! I am slightly dusty on the lore as I've conceived all this last October, and I am picking back up on outlining and planning once more. This may also be subject to change as I go further in my plans for the IF, so take this with a grain of salt! Thanks so much for your interest in the workings of the world 💕💕

[nomorefstogive]

I AM SOBBING

Dear Chief, Persephone, I am begging you please, holy shit you’re so brave I’d be crying from sheer shame if I manage to piss off an organization of deadly women so badly you get your clothes branded with such a thing.

Nightingale and Langley and Shalom is such a mood, with Nightingale trying to sound Very Professional but also this close to just asking, chief, why, on top of the paperwork for the entire week that she has to deal with because dear chief is spirited away to get herself absolutely fucked silly. God I want to write that part so so so bad right now.

Poor Chris getting dragged to the problem even though she was not even there URNDBDNFHSNDB

It is not so much that Persephone is brave, as much as it is that she has a few screws loose...or rather all of them are loose lol.

If you want to write Persephone getting railed by the Garden, please feel free to go ahead, I would be happy to see it and am honored this gave you that idea, I would try it myself but I am not that confident in my own ability to write such a thing.

Also, at least Chris will not be alone in her torment lol, Rahu and thistle will be right there with her...though Thistle is likely to take out her anger at her trying to throw her under the bus and what she is going to have to endure on Chris when Shalom is done with them.

Poor detective is not going to be walking anytime soon lol.

I also have this image of Chris' sister visiting her, looking at Thistle and telling her she has horrible taste in women if she likes her sister right in front of said sister.

That she and Thistle get along like a house on fire soon becomes a bittersweet thing for Chris to deal with lol.

Take care and stay safe.

[generalthirst]

I Just Want A Life With You

I don't write enough angst. And there's a reason for that, but I'm feeling mean today so here I go traumatizing my favorite already traumatized fictional man. Nothing actually graphic happens but still rather sad. I made myself sad with this one.

Armitage woke to the sound of birds in the distance. The morning sun was pouring in through the open window, a soft breeze making the sheer curtains dance. He groaned and reached out but huffed when he felt nothing. Cracking one eye open his suspicions we're confirmed by the lack of you. He'd wanted to remain in bed with you longer, savoring that bliss of half consciousness. But his heart didn't like the idea of your absence. Rousing himself he threw on some casual clothes. Loose fitting, soft woven things that were in stark contrast to the starched uniforms he'd grown up in. Despite the lack of familiarity, he preferred these clothes more.

Padding softly down the hallway he smiled as he entered the kitchen. There you stood, in your perfection, brewing some caf and something delicious cooking nearby. The golden sunlight shone in through the generous amount of windows. You'd been so adamant on having sunlight in your shared home. And he'd been happy to give you that. Anything you wanted, he'd give you.

Your body was covered in similar clothes, but he always noted how much better they suited you. The lightweight fabric made you etherial in the morning glow. You hair tousled and unbrushed, wild, like your spirit. His fingers itched to tangle themselves in the strands.

Armitage would have stood there for ages, gazing upon you but that need to touch you overtook his enjoyment of your visage. Quietly he snuck up behind you and wordlessly wrapped his arms around your waist. He was rewarded with your laugh, crisp and pure like a bell.

"Good morning darling." You greeted. He replied wordlessly but bending his head to press a kiss to your neck, leaving his face buried there as he took in your scent.

No bothersome thoughts entered his mind for once. Nothing about the First Order. No duties, no deadlines to plague him. His only thought was how lucky he was. To be here with you, in this moment. To have you. You absentmindedly reached a hand back to card through his hair and he hummed happily at the touch.

"Credit for your thoughts this morning?" You grinned, you could practically hear the gears turning in his brain.

"I love you." Was all he said and yet those three words said everything. You turned your head to meet his lips in a kiss.

A beeping jolted Armitage awake, his mind whirling in confusion about the change of reality. His hand flailed around until finally hitting the button to shut off the screaming alarm. He lay there for a moment, panting from the shock. His brain finally caught up with itself and he couldn't help himself. Hot salty tears began to stream down his face and though the act disgusted him, he was powerless to stop it.

He awoke to the familiar cold metal of the Finalizer. Alone. A day of burden and responsibilities waiting for his attention.

It was cruel for his subconsciousness to torment him with dream of happiness. A happiness he could never have. Despite everything he'd done in life, all he'd achieved, he knew deep down that the happy domestic life with you was nothing short of a fool's dream. Never to come to fruition. And still, he wept for the one thing he knew he could never have, yet yearned for so desperately.

[penhive]

Quotes

Life is a reason to live and a passion to feel.

Fiction is an enigma of the self.

Art is the mirror of nature.

The dead become memories of experience.

Music is the painting of words.

Figures of speech have to be experienced as art.

Listen to your inner soul.

My self surrenders to passion.

God’s footsteps are path for light to follow.

Desire is the source to pleasure. Make dreams a working reality.

In ecstasy and orgasm the self-partakes a mystic joy.

Love the self as it’s a soft soul.

A merry self lacks no joy.

When the world puts you down rise up with optimism.

Make figures of speech an active life.

The self is an opulent ornament.

When an opportunity comes grab it with outstretched hands.

A rainbow is a painting made by God as a covenant of peace.

Carry no demons of envy, malice and covetousness.

Wit is seasonal flesh.

God gives more than you ask.

The etiquette of happiness is contentment.

Let loose your passion.

God’s morals are a conscience of reason

Find time to exercise passions.

Liberty has to thrive with freedom.

Take a risk and see what you get.

Wisdom is the folly of the lover.

Wisdom is the path to philosophy.

Finance gratifies the body.

Nietzsche is a wounded soul.

Walking on water is spiritual acrobatics.

Demons are spirits that antagonize the self.

Torment in hell is more than you can imagine.

Man’s search for beauty never ends.

Existence is the essence of meaning.

Life is the flow of a river.

We can take refuge and help in God.

Socrates was a wise philosopher who knew nothing.

I want God to make my footstool earth a prosperous dwelling place.

Lust is an ecstatic sin.

I have done fornication on the bed of poetry and I feel truly repentant.

[gogenana]

.

Kento Nanami watched as Suguru Geto paced back and forth in their shared apartment, a nervous energy evident in every step. Kento’s heart swelled with affection for his boyfriend’s restless spirit. Tonight, he had planned something special, something he knew would drive Suguru to the edge and back, something that would thrill them both.

Suguru’s dark hair was tied back in a loose ponytail, a few strands escaping to frame his face. His normally calm and composed demeanor was already beginning to crack, anticipation and irritation mingling in his wide, expressive eyes. Kento, ever the picture of calm and collected, was meticulously preparing a small vial of lavender essence.

“Come here, love,” Kento called softly, his voice smooth and reassuring. Suguru looked at him, hesitant, before slowly walking over. Kento took Suguru’s hands in his, feeling the slight tremor of excitement.

“Kento, what are you—” Suguru began, but Kento silenced him with a gentle kiss, his lips lingering just long enough to convey his intentions. When he pulled back, he saw the flush spreading across Suguru’s cheeks, a delicious prelude to what was to come.

“Trust me,” Kento murmured, his voice a low, soothing rumble. Suguru nodded, biting his lip. Kento brought the vial of lavender essence to Suguru’s nose, letting a few drops fall onto a handkerchief. He held it close to Suguru’s face, the potent scent immediately making Suguru’s nostrils flare.

Suguru’s eyes fluttered shut, his breath hitching. “Uh-uh,” Kento admonished, a firm but gentle finger pressing beneath Suguru’s nose, staving off the sneeze that was building. Suguru’s eyes opened, wide and pleading, tears of irritation already gathering at the corners.

“Kento,” Suguru managed to say through his hitching breaths, “you’re using lhh-lavender!” His voice was a mix of desperation and anticipation, knowing how impossible it would be to hold back for long under such an assault.

“Exactly,” Kento replied with a mischievous smile. “I want to see how long you can last.”

Suguru shook his head, not in protest but in a futile attempt to dispel the overpowering need to sneeze. His breath hitched again, more urgently this time. “Kento, I—heh—can’t...”

“Hold it back,” Kento commanded softly, his eyes never leaving Suguru’s face. He loved watching the way Suguru’s expression changed, the way his body tensed and shivered with each teasing breath.

Suguru’s breath was a series of erratic gasps now, each one more desperate than the last. “Huhhh... hhh... K-Kento...”

Kento’s finger remained firm beneath Suguru’s nose, denying him the release he so desperately needed. “Not yet, my love. Just a little longer.”

“Please,” Suguru whimpered, his voice barely a whisper. The tears were streaming freely down his cheeks now, the irritation from the lavender essence almost too much to bear. But Kento’s command was absolute, and Suguru would hold on for as long as he could.

A shudder ran through Suguru's body, his eyes watering more as the tickle surged and then ebbed away, leaving him breathless and trembling. The sensation was maddening, a sweet torment that left him aching for release.

"Kento," Suguru pleaded, his voice barely more than a whisper. "Please..."

Kento's heart melted at the sight of his boyfriend's vulnerable state. He leaned in, brushing a soft kiss against Suguru's temple. "Just a little longer," he promised. "I want to see you at your limit."

Suguru's breaths were coming in short, sharp gasps now, each one threatening to turn into a sneeze. His eyes were squeezed shut, tears streaming down his cheeks. The tickle was unbearable, and he was on the verge of losing control.

"hh’EHDZSHYUE!" Suguru's body jerked with the force of the suppressed sneeze, his head tilting back slightly.

Kento's finger remained firm beneath Suguru's nose, maintaining the delicate balance between torment and relief. "You're doing so well," he murmured, his voice soothing. "Just a bit more."

Suguru's breaths were growing more desperate, each hitch more pronounced than the last. He could feel the sneeze building, a powerful force that demanded release. His nostrils flared again, his chest heaving with the effort.

"uh’DTCHyeu! uhh’DTTCHYEU!" Suguru's head snapped forward slightly with each suppressed sneeze, his whole body trembling.

Kento's hand moved to cup Suguru's cheek, his thumb brushing away the tears that had gathered there. "You're so beautiful like this," he whispered, his voice filled with love and admiration.

"heh-IGH’SHYUE! huhhhGYSSCH’IUE!" Suguru's body convulsed with each stifled sneeze, his breaths coming in ragged gasps.

Kento could see that Suguru was reaching his limit, and he knew it was time to give him the release he craved. He removed his finger from beneath Suguru's nose, allowing the sneeze to build to its full intensity.

Suguru's eyes widened, his nostrils flaring impossibly wide as he took that final, desperate breath. "IHDZSHh’yue! EHGZSCH’yuh! GZTSCHh’Uh! ah-hh’EGTZSHH’yeu!" Each sneeze was a powerful, uncontrollable explosion, and Kento watched in awe as Suguru finally found his release.

"hhRZZSHH’Yeu! EHGDZSHH’EU! heh-EHDZSHhu! EH-DZSSHYEU! hhhHT’JZSH’yue!" The sneezes continued to wrack Suguru's body, each one leaving him more breathless than the last.

Finally, the fit subsided, and Suguru collapsed against Kento, panting and exhausted. Kento wrapped his arms around his boyfriend, holding him close and pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead.

"You did so well," Kento murmured, his voice filled with pride and affection. "I'm so proud of you."

Suguru looked up at him, his eyes still shining with unshed tears. "That was... intense," he whispered, a tired smile tugging at his lips.

Kento chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair away from Suguru's face. "You were incredible," he said, his voice warm. "Thank you for trusting me."

Suguru leaned into Kento's touch, feeling safe and loved. "Always," he whispered. "I love you, Kento."

Kento's heart swelled with emotion, and he pressed a tender kiss to Suguru's lips. "I love you too, Suguru. More than anything."

The two of them sat there for a long time, wrapped in each other's embrace, the scent of lavender still lingering in the air. It was a moment of pure, unadulterated love, and they wouldn't have had it any other way.

[willows-adventures-in-words]

Previous chapter found here. I decided to add chapter numbers. Don't know why I didn't from the beginning, but now it's easier to keep track of.

Heros & Villains chapter: 5 word count: 1,199

~-~-~

Jackie found himself waking up to the sound of bird chatter. He blinked sleepily as he looked up at the ceiling. As he laid there, slowly waking up, he remembered waking in the middle of the night. He hadn't been awake for long but he recalled the restlessness he had felt for that short while. Honestly, he wasn't surprised. He didn't know when the last time he had slept for as long as he had the day before. Jackie lays there for a moment longer before he shifts and moves to get up. His body aches at the movement and he grimaces as he gets to his feet.

Opening the door that used to go to the closet, Jackie stepped into the bathroom. This time he took Magnificent's suggestion and left the door open. Once finished, he listened, straining to hopefully hear something. Nothing. He wondered, briefly, if the other man had left. Or maybe still asleep. Then just as he was about to head back to the bedroom, he heard a faint high pitched whistle. He furrowed his brows, wondering what that was; then realized it was a kettle. So. Magnificent was a tea drinker. Jackie left the bathroom and closed the door before settling back in bed.

He adamantly refused to fall back asleep. Instead he tried to focus his thoughts and attention on other things. First it was propping himself up. Then it was wondering when or if Magnificent was going to bring him breakfast. Then he took stock of everything that was in the room. There was the bed; a cushy chair in the opposite corner; a three shelf display, except it was missing the bottom part exposing a vent; there was a small decorative lamp on the shelf plugged into the wall between the chair and shelf; and a couple posters on the wall. Jackie glanced up. Ceiling fan and light combo. He paused, then looked back to one of the posters. Then it clicked. That was a movie poster. A supernatural horror about a house possessed with a water spirit or demon that tormented the man that bought it. Jackie couldn't quite remember all the details but it was better than he had expected it to be. Since, apparently, it was loosely based off of someone's not-so-exciting true events.

Jackie sends a look to the door. Still no sign of him. He wondered what time it was. With another quick sweep of the room showed no clock. And with his cellphone missing he couldn't check the time that way either. He turned his attention to listening. Any noises he could pick up; from outside or from within the house. It was mostly the birds outside, though they were a bit more distant. A couple times he thought he heard noises from in the house. Then, finally, the door opened.

Magnificent pushed the door open with his shoulder. He was carrying the tray again. Jackie couldn't tell what exactly it was from his angle but he did notice the water bottle. And he smelled eggs. Magnificent paused for a second before walking over. “Good morning.”

“Morning...” Jackie eyed the tray.

“Breakfast.” Magnificent stated as he passed the tray over. Jackie hid his eagerness as he accepted the meal. Scrambled eggs with toast. But what did he add into the eggs? He squinted at a piece of egg as he poked it with his fork. “It's ham.”

Ham? He stabbed a small piece on his fork and ate it. With a small shrug he remarked, “It'll do.” Then quickly looked up at Magnificent to see the man stare at him with a raise brow. “I-I mean... I, uh...” Jackie stumbled over his words trying to correct his bordering-on-rude statement. He looked down at his plate. “... Thank you.” Well, he said it. But it didn't feel like enough. “Thank you.” He tried again. “For the meals.” This time when he looked up at Magnificent the smile from the man caught him off guard.

“You're supposed to be healing from your injury's. Can't really do that if I starve you.” Jackie heard amusement in the mans voice.

“Guess not.” They just looked at each other a moment longer before Jackie turned his attention back down at his meal. Though instead of eating more he reached for the water bottle. Unfortunately, when he tried to open it, he just felt pain in his right arm.

Magnificent took a step closer. As he held out a hand, Jackie instinctively brought up his guard. If Magnificent noticed he didn't react; he just asked, “Need a hand?”

It took some effort to lower his guard as he handed the bottle over. The man simply opened the bottle and handed it back before taking a couple steps backward. Paused. Then turned and left the room closing the door behind him.

Maybe he did notice. Jackie let out a sigh. He hadn't meant to act defensively. But when he stepped into his personal space, while his arm was hurting, with no noticeable reason... His subconscious decided to remind him that the two of them weren't allies.

Jackie forced his attention towards his breakfast. He took a large drink from the bottle before twisting the cap back on and started to eat.

The tray rested next to him on the bed as Jackie nibbled on the last bit of the toast. He contemplated what he could do when he finished eating. Other than sleep again. Though he supposed that if that was what his body wanted then he'd have to give in; but he's had enough of sleeping the day away.

After taking a drink from the water bottle, Jackie looked over the room again hoping he missed something. Anything he could use as entertainment. There wasn't anything else. Either Magnificent was a boring person and didn't own anything of amusement or he removed everything from the room that Jackie could use. Unless the little shelf was just for decoration and he didn't keep anything in the bedroom. Jackie let out a sigh and tilted his head back against the bedframe. He stared up at the spot where the wall met the ceiling above the closet door.

Before long, Jackie shifted his legs over the side of the bed and made his way up and to the bathroom. Now that he had a consist source of water he suspected he'd be up more often. When he finished in the bathroom, Jackie hesitated, wondering if he should call out to the other man. Insist that he be given something to pass the time. He ended up deciding against it. Then, just as he was about to leave the bathroom he faintly heard a door being opened. Jackie paused and, leaning against the bathroom counter, listened for some more noise. He thought he heard Magnificent talking but it was too quiet to discern what he said or who he was talking to since he didn't hear a response.

Jackie shivered, then grimaced. Leaving the bathroom he made his way back to the bed quietly cursing at not being given a shirt to wear.

~-~-~

The poster is a tiny easter egg. I wonder if anyone will know what the poster is...

[uselessboss]

Case 01-Aftermath(1/?)

Deep breaths.

“Get your shit together Miller” she berates herself. “You can't act weak"

She knocks on the door.

“Miller!” Saramsrein greets her in relief.

“Good night Saram" she forces a smile. “Is Safir still awake? I would like to talk to him”

Saramsrein doesn't say anything. Neither does Safir when he opens the door and sees her sitting there, on the living room, hands clasped together on her lap, her smile not reaching her eyes.

They could tell she was bringing bad news.

“Your assailant was found dead" she disclosed. “An autopsy made on the corpse points to prolonged abuse of illicit substances as the cause. No evidence of anyone else being at the site was found so by all accounts the death looks self inflicted"

“So he is unrelated to Morrigan?”

“No. He totally is. My belief is that Morrigan used him because he was at death's door. By using his life force he could keep this man alive long enough to do his dirty job and then let him die after he's finished. He covered his involvement really well"

“… It's frightening how prepared this guy is.” Safir frowns. “If it wasn't for you and Saram I would have been dead by now"

“I wish I could claim we foiled his plans but… We didn't"

“What?”

If he died he would have become a wandering spirit tormented by his traumatic death, which would require her to go after his killer so his soul could rest in peace.

If he lived then his assailant would still represent a danger in potential as he was on the loose so she would still need to go after him to secure his safety.

No matter the outcome it was inevitable that her hand would forced to act on his behalf.

“That was his goal? To use me as a bait?” Safir gritted his teeth. “But why? What would he gain with that?”

“To buy him time. He wanted to make sure we wouldn't interfere in his plans of gathering evidence to expose the robber's foul deeds"

“But if all he wanted was to arrest him then why go through all this trouble? It doesn't make sense”

“When I said “expose his foul deeds" I didn't mean the robbery. Morrigan wanted everything. Past or present, he wanted to expose every ugly truth and watch him succumb under the destruction it would cause in its wake"

“…He didn't strike me as the “justice" type"

“And he isn't. Morrigan is a man of “freedom". He doesn't like anything that denies who he is nor anything that seeks to tie him down. He feels a particular contempt towards any display of power he regards as “pretentious" and thus seek to undermine and ridicule it in any way he can"

“Morrigan knew that if he let the culprit go he would think money gave him power to be above him.” Safir deduces.

“That's the gist of it, yes"

Safir clenches his fists in frustration.

When he finally learned to control his powers he felt immensely proud of himself. For the first time in his life he believed he could do better and become a reliable person that could make the difference.

But he was naïve.

Life wasn't that easy. Working hard didn't mean that he would receive a pat in the back and be rewarded by his efforts, reality could be rather unjust and unreasonable like that.

“Is this how things end? Him being victorious and suffering no consequences of his acts despite how heinous they were?”

“Not quite so"

Safir looks at her in surprise and she smiles back at him. A more natural and genuine smile this time.

“Morrigan no longer acts incognito thanks to you exposing him Safir. He's now under my watch.” She smirks. “He might have won this battle but not this war. He had to reveal a lot of “tricks" this time and if he keeps going at this pace he will soon run out of options. It will then just become a question of time until he hits the end of the road"

She pats his head.

“You did well Safir" She smiles proudly at him. “I regret not being able to avoid the loss of your home but… Know that I will do everything in my power to help you find a new place to live. It's a promise I intend to keep this time"

“About that Miller” Saramsrein interjects. “I… Invited Safir to live here. With me"

“You did?”

“Yes"

“And what was your answer Safir?”

Safir and Saramsrein share a complicit look and smile at her.

“I accepted his offer" he confirms. “I have been thinking of this place as a home for a while so I saw no reason to refuse it. At least for now"

“I'm happy for you Safir. Also congratulations on your initiative Saram, I'm also very proud of you”

“I-It's nothing, I… Should be the one thanking you. It's thanks to you that I have something to call “mine" to share with others"

“You matured Saram" she chuckles. “I guess I had nothing to worry after all"

“Miller?”

“It's nothing" she shakes her head. “I guess that the only thing left to do is to acquire everything that you lost on the fire right?”

“Ah! It's fine, there's no need to do that Miller, you don't have to feel responsible for what happened!”

“Saram told me that you bought new clothes because you wanted them to be something of your choice, to match the new person you wanted to be… Is that true?”

“Hum? Yes?” Safir confirms, eyebrows furrowing in confusion by the sudden change of topic.

“I am not offering you help purely out of a sense of obligation Safir. I am doing this because I want to support you and your conviction”

Sometimes doing your best wasn't enough. Even when you put all the care and zeal in the world in building something it could still easily crumble away into nothing. All your work and progress, undone in an instant.

Many times she felt tempted to give up. To let desolation wash her away but… She still persevered. All thanks to the support of everyone around her. It gave her strength to keep going on and it sustained her heart so despair won't be allowed to break it.

“Life can be unfair at the times. Even when we are on the right path things can happen to discourage us" her voice goes soft. “But when you have the support of others it helps to balances everything out. When they have your back you know they will be there to catch you when you fall"

“The support of others…”

‘You progressed a lot Saram, it would be a shame if you lost that'

Didn't he say something similar to Saramsrein before?

He did it because he believed in him. Because he knew, better than anyone, how much courage and effort it took to take a step forward so he wanted his hard work to be recognized. He wanted to protect and support that resolve.

“I respect your strength Safir so I won't treat you with any pity. All I ask is to be allowed to help you recover the time lost so you wouldn't have to trouble yourself with setbacks. So that the only thing you need to concern yourself with is how to look forward"

“… In that case I will accept your help" he smiles. “Thank you Miller. For everything”

“Call me when you decide to shop for the new things."

“I will. But perhaps not immediately”

“Ah yes, of course, a lot of things happened after all so it's better if you probably need time to process everything"

“No. That's not it” Safir shook his head. “You need to rest too Miller. I can tell this case probably took a toll on you too so please, look after yourself as well and don't worry, I will be fine"

“…You really became strong Safir" she chuckles. “ Thank you. That's reassuring to hear"

“I'm glad I can finally pay back a bit of the kindness you always show me.” Safir manages a grin. “Hey… The words you told me I say back to you too. You are really loved by the people around you so don't feel like you have to hold back. If you are in need of any support we will gladly give it to you”

=-=-=-=

“I'm so exhausted" Miller rests her head on the wheel of her car.

Maybe she should take Safir's advice after all.

“But before that…” Her hand twitches as she touches the cellphone in her pocket.

She needed to talk with Hunter.

“He's probably baffled with the way I acted. I wonder if he's disappointed"

‘Now that he's dead it doesn't matter anymore’

‘…I already wasted too much time with him, more than I could afford in fact'

It made her shudder. To think she could speak of someone's death like that, to treat a loss of human life with such coldness and disregard… She was no better than Morrigan.

“Maybe he wouldn't even want to with me. It was kind awkward after that” she sighed as she opened the messages up. “Huh?”

“Miller, would it be ok to meet you to talk? Only if you are available of course"

She blinked in surprise.

How… Unexpected.

She tapped a message back.

“Of course, where would you like to meet?”

“Your home if it's not too much of a bother" was the instant reply.

“I don't mind. Feel free to come"

“Thank you. Then I will be on my way"

Well, she better get home ASAP.

Maybe if she's fast enough she can take a bath before he arrives.

DingDong~

“Coming!” she hastily drapes a towel on her head, running at quick steps to answer the door.

“Goodnight Mi- Sorry, did I interrupt your bath?”

“It's ok, I just finished it" she shakes her head. “I only need to dry my hair and I am good to go"

“May I?”

“Huh? What?”

“Dry your hair for you" Hunter offers.

“Ah! Yes! I would love that" she perks up at the invitation. “Just give me a second, I need to find my hairdryer first"

Hunter’s touch is soothing.

He’s gentle with his ministrations- Slowly and carefully toweling her hair and always making sure to properly remove the dampness from the roots. He works through them with the same diligence and attention as everything he does in his life.

Drowsiness started to settle in, little by little, as he proceeds to massage her head, alternating between rubbing her scalp in circles, applying the right amount of pressure here and there and uncovering the towel just enough so he can comb through her hair by running his nails softly. She could feel her body turning into a puddle, the stress of the last days slowly melting away under his deftly hands.

“Ops!” She squeaks as her head launches backwards. “Sorry Hunter, I dozed for a second here"

“You must be really tired"

“I guess so" she laughs it off. “Although I would say it's more because your touch is soothing. It feels nice"

“Can you endure the sleep monster for a bit while I use the hairdryer?” he jokes, amused. “I don't want to accidentally yank your hair"

“I will do my best" she chuckles back. “Wow! You are pretty good at this, where you learned how to treat long hair?”

“You mean brushing it in sections and holding the base so it doesn't pull the roots? Isn't that common sense?”

“Hum… I wonder about that"

“Miller don't tell me that all this time you brushed it in one go"

“…”

“Miller.”

“I was joking, I know how to do it. Although it can't be helped when I am busy"

“Wear shorter hair then"

“But I like it at this length" she pouted.

“You can be surprisingly stubborn for the strangest things" Hunter shakes his head. “But I guess… It does look good on you. It makes you look rather dashing when it flows through the wind in the thick of a fight"

His voice sounded kind.

She wondered what kind of expression he was making at this moment.

“Done"

“Thank you Hunter. I will put these things away real quick and then we can talk"

“Ok”

“By the way why did you ask to talk here instead of doing a facecam this time?”

“Because I thought it might be better to talk with you personally" he hesitates “It's… About the way I acted around you earlier"

Oh, so he wanted to talk about “that" after all.

She steeled herself.

“Hunter, about tha-”

“I'm sorry"

“Huh?”

“I didn't mean to come off as if I was judging you" he apologizes “In truth I was… Worried about you"

Her eyes widen in surprise.

“I didn't know what to do. You sounded like you were in pain but I didn't know how to help. I wasn’t sure if I could ask about it either so I was at loss about what to do"

“I'm such an idiot"

“…Miller?”

There was no reason for her to worry.

The days of doubt were long behind them.

“It's ok Hunter, I meant to tell you everything"

‘You are really loved by the people around you so don't feel like you have to hold back. If you are in need of any support we will gladly give it to you’

Safir was right, she should learn to rely more on others too.

“…So that was why you said that" Hunter furrowed his eyebrows. “I saw my share of corrupt cops but this guy is still something else, to try to kill someone as a distraction… Disgusting"

“Yes. It's frustrating to admit but it was a trap I couldn't avoid. I played right into Morrigan's hands"

“But how did he find out? There's no one as careful as you and Andrews"

“That was… My fault" she clenched her fists. “When I instructed Andrews to do his investigation I failed to account for something as simple as paying attention to the order of the files. Morrigan noticed something was off with the time the records were checked in and caught on what we were planning"

That’s right. Her mistake almost cost Safir's life. Andrews also got humiliated as a result of her poor command.

She still remembers Andrews' expression. Even through she had desperately tried to shift the blame away from him it didn't work. She could see how Morrigan's words cut him deeply, reopening old wounds and bringing back a guilty he shouldn't feel responsible to carry.

It's so frustrating. Why she kept failing the people dear to her? Why she can't protect anyone? Why…

“Punishment only teaches you to fear mistakes, not to overcome then. You were the one who taught me that" he hugs her tighter. “I don't want you to be bond by those fears"

“I… Am trying my best but it's still not enough" she buries her face in his neck. “And with each mistake my confidence wanes. My heart… It keeps wavering"

“I wonder if it's really like that"

“Hunter?”

“I don't know this kid personally but I have a feeling that he doesn't blame you for what happened.” He hums, resting his chin on her shoulder. “No one does. Regardless of the outcome we believe without a doubt that you saved us.”

“How? How could anyone still trust me after that?”

“Sometimes what we need the most is for someone to be there for us. A hand that won't let go no matter what, even if it has to challenge the most unlikely odds. We know we can count on you to do that” Hunter pulls back briefly to smile at her. “Besides, if we are talking about terrible decisions then this Morrigan guy did the biggest mistake of everyone involved”

“Huh? What mistake?”

“Picking a fight with you of course"

“What are you saying…” She laughs, shaking her head “...Thank you Hunter, I really appreciate it"

“Anytime" He squeezes her hand. “If you need anything you can tell me Miller"

“Actually…”

“Yes?”

“Can we stay like this a bit longer?” she rests her head in his chest, close to his heart, soaking in the warmth and comfort of the arms enveloping her. “It calms me down"

“Of course” Hunter nods, adjusting their position to make it more comfortable for her. “As long as you need Miller"

“Thank you Hunter" she whispers as she lets herself sunks in his embrace, feeling her tension melt away as Hunter gently strokes her head.

'I'm so sleepy... I guess i'm more tired than I thought'

She didn't know for how long they stayed like that nor she cared to find out.

The only thing in her mind and her last conscious thought, before she feel under dream's spell was...

How she wished for this moment to never end.