#asked and answered 260

[away-ward]

I really don’t understand Alex at all and I genuinely don’t like her . From the first time she was introduced I didn’t like her. If she hadn’t become friends with rika she wouldn’t even be in the books so much . She’d just be wills friend . And I find it so weird how every single time she introduces herself she says “ Alex palmer . I’m wills friend “ like we get bitch you are close . And she was doing too much trying to become friends with banks . And why does Will admire Alex so much ? What about Emory like hellooooo. Idk it bothered me a lot how close will and Alex are . And also the fact that Will does NOT understand Emory at all . Don’t kill me but I think Damon and Emory would’ve made a great couple cause they actually understand each other idk .

I haven’t talked extensively about Alex in a while, so why not now?

I myself was pretty indifferent to Alex at first. She was just there – she was a tool to send a message. It’s one of the most annoying parts of Corrupt, in my opinion. We’re force fed PD’s thoughts on something through their characters, though Alex is a bit easier to swallow than Rika’s spontaneous class speech about the new generation.

In Corrupt, Alex is meant to be a role model for Rika, who wants to break out of this good girl mold she’s been forced into. Alex introduces Rika to the reality that girls can have sex, for a good time and/or for money, and still be a decent person. Girls can also have sex with girls! Novel thought, that is.

It’s through Alex that Rika is able to become a more realized version of herself. She’s opened to new ideas and experiences that she has always been thinking somewhere in the back of her head. Except now she can say them without fear of judgement, all thanks to Alex and Michael.

However, as has been discussed, Corrupt was written without the three follow-ups in mind. Alex’s progression with the group was never planned. But PD loved her and so did fans. There needed to be another reason for Alex to stick around. A common pick-me girl quality is that they can’t be friends with other girls, but this has never been a problem with Rika or Alex. There would have been no problem with Alex just appearing every once in a while, as Rika’s college friend.

This is where is starts to get irritating. In Corrupt, Alex doesn’t really do anything deserving of the horsemen’s favor. Will likes her, but Will likes a lot of girls. He brings her out to Thunder Bay but pays no attention to her (on page). It’s clear that she’s Rika’s friend, not theirs. Now that Rika didn’t need her anymore – other than a neutral friend she occasionally joked about having sex with but never actually engaged with despite the group’s dynamic – what was Alex supposed to do?

PD’s solution is to shift Alex’s mainstay in the group from Rika to Will. In Hideaway, Will is no longer paying Alex for her company. In Kill Switch, she’s his "best friend" to replace Damon. And in Nightfall, she’s his reflection. All the things it would be natural for Alex to do with Rika she now does with Will because Rika doesn’t need her anymore.

To be clear, I don’t think PD planned on Will and Alex becoming as close as they were. I think as PD started getting the sense of Will’s story, it made sense by that point in time, they'd have a strong connection. It also gave PD a chance to satisfy Alex’s fans demanding a HEA, and their own desire to see Alex happy.

When I say I don’t mind Alex’s role in the series, I am specifically talking about her friendship with Will and her role as the group’s gopher. That's not a bad role to have, and if executed well, could have been interesting. What I hate about Alex is that she has a habit of putting people in situations that aren’t always good for them, that they don’t want to be in, and she has plot armor. No character, but especially a side character, should have plot armor. It would be one thing if she crossed the line occasionally but also faced consequences for it. It would be one thing if there were things asked of her that she was never able to fulfill, either because of lack of skill or it made her uncomfortable, or she simply didn't want to. But it never fails, no matter what happens, Alex is perfect.

And perfect characters just aren’t interesting to me.

There is the additional issue that PD loves Alex, and therefore the narrative never implies that Alex can be wrong.

Take Rika for example. She and Michael frequently argue, and while it’s annoying, I can see both sides of their issues, and I’m never told who’s side I should be on. With Alex, the narrative always implies I’m supposed to see her point of view; I’m supposed to be on her side; for all her failings, she’s sympathetic.

Sorry, but I don’t buy it. Never trust a character that’s always right.

But that’s my thoughts. Let’s address some of yours.

She’d just be wills friend

I think it’s interesting how even though she’s been tied to Will, she’s still different. Kai, Damon, and Will sleep around until their love interest enters the scene, but we don’t see any of those girls sticking close. So why does Alex get the exemption. Until Hideaway, she’s not doing anything that make her invaluable to the group. And after that, she basically becomes whatever they need when they need it.

Kai needs a personal shopper? Well good thing Alex is a fashionista.

Rika needs a friend to teach defense classes with? Well good thing Alex has a deep interest in promoting women’s rights. Never mind how she had the time to reach the level that she can teach in less than a year. It’s Alex.

Banks needs a girl to help her get out of her shell, but she doesn’t trust Rika? Well, good thing we have Alex.

Alex’s character was never meant to go anywhere, and if PD didn’t love her so much, she wouldn’t have even been Will’s special friend. She’d be the escort that lives in the build that they occasionally hire to help in some circumstances because she’s discreet.

why does Will admire Alex so much ? What about Emory like hellooooo

My opinion is that Will equally admires both. That’s why Alex knows about Emory before they meet – Will’s already talked her up. But by the time Emory, Alex, and Will are in the same room, Will is already so angry at Emory that his admiration it can’t come through.

The boys like Alex because she acts and thinks like them – she has no shame, doesn’t need any one’s approval, does what she wants, and has a good time doing it. It’s what actually makes her a pick-me girl. If it weren’t for her being so highly feminine, she’d be just one of the guys.

Then, when they understand that she doesn’t come from privilege like them, but built herself up, they give her their respect. And to be clear: it’s admirable that Alex faced the loss of her friends and scholarship. That’s a huge blow, especially at 18, and the fact that she was able to find away to support herself without missing a beat is a feat that should be recognized. It’s everything else about her that I have trouble accepting.

But I’ve said this before and I still believe it, Alex’s success does not diminish Emory’s by any means. Just because Alex can do all that with a smile on her face doesn’t mean that Emory surviving is less noteworthy just because she’s depressed. Likewise, Emory being mean because her life is incredibly difficult doesn’t make her more realistic that Alex. They approached two difficult situations with different methods and both should be recognized for it.

Will just has an easier time with Alex than with Emory. Alex doesn’t challenge his view of the world or his circumstances. Alex doesn’t expect more from him. Alex puts up with his bare minimum effort. There’s comfort and resting, which we all need at time, and then there’s wallowing in self-pity. It’s easier for Will to appreciate Alex’s success because he never wanted to be apart of it. Emory also succeed on her own, but he wanted to be apart of that story and she refused to let him. He’s bitter for sure, but he doesn’t deny that she’s done it.

also the fact that Will does NOT understand Emory at all

I kind of do disagree with this take. Will understands Emory very well. But again, there are times when he’s too clouded by anger to accept her. To me, understanding and accepting are two different things. When Will accepts Emory for who she is, instead of what he tries to convince himself she is, that his understanding really shines.

Don’t kill me but I think Damon and Emory would’ve made a great couple cause they actually understand each other idk .

See, I only see Damon and Emory working under a very specific set of circumstances. But outside of that I think they’re too similar. Yeah, they understand each other because they went though years of abuse, but they both need people who live outside of that world. They’d find comfort in someone who can identify with and validate their experiences, but they also need people who will push them not to live only with that in view. For better or worse, Will and Winter fill that role for them.

But that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t read a Damon/Emory fic! I’m so interested in seeing how someone else would make it work.

This is probably a lot more than you were expected. Sorry about that. I just had a few thoughts about Alex dying to get out, and with your message, they refused to stay in any longer. Hope you don't mind!

Thanks for the message. I know my opinions on Alex are a tad bit more relaxed than others, but it's still interesting to see how divisive she is as a character.

[lilgynt]

and we’ve had this convo before of speak to me before you include me in stuff but it never sticks and it won’t till i move out :///

[andillneverbethesame]

omg i love your writing!! could you do a taylor swift song prompt of “so high school” x james potter? potentially with a ravenclaw reader?

looove this! so high school is absolutely james coded aaaaa. this is so short but i hope u enjoy anyway<33

so high school

❥ james potter x ravenclaw!fem!reader

❥ warnings; none really

❥ word count; 1.2k

❥ my ts masterlists; pt 1 & pt 2

"oi, james!" sirius called his best mate and gestured for james to sit next to him as if he wasn't going to do that anyway.

"good morning, everybody," james smiled at his friendgroup, his eyes lingering on you a tiny bit longer than on anyone else, making your heart flutter and your cheeks to heat up. you glanced back Down on your plate in hopes to hide it.

"james," sirius spoke up again, "marry, kiss or kill; lily, marlene, y/n."

"well, we all know who'd he want to marry," marlene said in a low voice, only for you and lily to hear. lily snorted and you lightly elbowed her.

the girls were convinced that james fancies you just as much as you fancied him. however, you found that hard to believe that someone so perfect like him could like someone like you.

james frowned. "i don't like this game."

sirius rolled his eyes. "oh, come on, you just don't want to say it out loud so you don't hurt anyone's feelings." he tapped on his ear. "whisper it to me."

james lowered his head at the level of his best friend's ear and whispered his answer. you girls tried your best to read his lips but it was no use.

"oh." an amused look appeared on sirius's face and he looked at you. you stared back at him, trying to figure out what he was thinking.

come on, james. are you gonna marry, kiss, or kill me?

——————————————————————

the gryffindor quidditch team won the cup.

just when it seemed that they were going to lose against hufflepuffs, james caught the snitch, making the score 250 - 260 for the reds.

you were never more proud of him than in that very moment. you jumped from your seat and yelled his name in a cheering tone, clapping so hard your hands almost hurt. like if he heard you, his brown eyes found yours in the crowd. he grinned and sent you a wink and a kiss. james was thanking you, you were his lucky charm.

that night, the gryffindors threw the biggest party ever. it was many student's last game at hogwarts so it was also a goodbye party. all of the team members were there and talked about the match and their time playing together in general.

quidditch wasn't your thing. you were the stereotypical ravenclaw and you'd much rather be in your bed, under cover and reading a book. but james practically begged you to be there. after all, it was thanks to you that they won. you knew that wasn't the truth but you couldn't say no to him and you were glad you didn't. he looked so happy and beautiful and you couldn't help but admire him.

"let's play truth or dare!" marlene's voice rang through the common room and every person there agreed.

"i think i'm gonna go back to my dorm, it's late," you yelled over the loud music into james's ear.

"nooo," james pouted and give you a puppy look, he got a hold of your hand. "you can't leave now. please? just stay here for ten more minutes."

you sighed. you hated how easily you'll do anything he says.

"alright," you said and let him drag you to the circle of people in the middle of the room. a lot of people had gone to sleep already or some could be found vomiting in the bathroom so there weren't a lot of you. you sat down next to each other and waited for the game to start.

marlene picked up an empty whiskey bottle and spun it around. it landed on mary and she groaned, knowing that her friend has some of the most. . . interesting questions and dares.

"mary," marlene grinned widely. "truth or dare?"

"truth."

the blonde took a few seconds to think of a question before asking, "the freakiest place you did it at."

"that would be. . . a bed of one of my dorm mates."

"what?" lily, alice and marlene asked in terror, each of them wondering whose bed was it.

mary smiled innocently. "my turn," she spun the bottle. and then, everyone glanced at the boy beside you. you let out a sigh of relief.

"jamie, truth o—"

"dare."

a devilish smile crept onto the girl's lips.

"kiss y/n."

your eyes went wide as the people around you let out an "oooooh".

"mary!" you hissed. "what the f—"

before you could finish your sentence, you were rudely interrupted.

he tasted of— well, alcohol. rum and coke, to be exact. but it didn't matter. he was kissing you, and your whole body was on fire, your heart rate raised to at least hundred more beats per minute and fireworks. it was maybe cliché, yes. but it was the truth.

before you could fully register what the hell was happening, he was pulling away, making your lips feel cold at the sudden loss of the warmth of his mouth.

his gaze shifted from your lips to your eyes.

"i imagined our first kiss differently," he spoke in a low voice so only you could hear, sounding disappointed. he reached for the bottle and spun it around so the game could continue.

you stared at him for at least ten more seconds. you couldn't believe what just happened and what he said after.

and you started to wonder that maybe, just maybe, he felt the same way.

—���————————————————————

and in a blink of a crinkling eye, you were at sirius's and remus's apartment, sitting on james's lap in the living room. all of your boyfriend’s closest friends were there and just like any other saturday night, you had a film night. tonight, it was american pie.

james and you started dating only recently. it’s been a month,to be exact. so everything felt still really new. and you felt embarrassing for the fact that he still had the same effect on you like when you were bittersweet sixteen. it takes you back to the times when you used to admire him only from afar. but now, you get to kiss him. you get to touch him. 

like, for example, he was just touching you. as you tried to stifle your sighs, everyone seemed to be paying a great attention to the film. except for you two, of course. you coud not focus when james was constantly placing kisses in the crook of your neck and your shoulders.  you could not focus when one of his hands was drawing on the skin of yourupper thigh. you could not focus when his hot  breath made you shudder.

“james,”  you sighed quietly. “you got to stop.”

“and why would i do that?” he whispered back.

you rolled your eyes playfully. “you’re horrible.”

he shrugged. “you love me.”

oh, you did.

out of the blue, he spoke louder, “guys, me and y/n are sorry but we’re pretty tired so we’re headed home.”

huh?

all of your friends looked at each other and than back at you, saying “suuuuureee” in union.

“james, why are we leaving?” you ran outside after him.

he turned around and smiled. “you already know.”

“aw, we’re horrible!” you pouted playfully. “we’re abandoning our friends to have sex.”

“i’m sure they understand,” he said as he opened the door of his car. “remus and sirius used to do that all the time.”

you burst out laughing and let him pull you to the back seat.

no one’s ever had you, not like him.

[chaosandmarigolds]

pięć 🚑

Of EMS AU Thingy!

summary: Simon Riley finds himself utterly and completely in love with the newest medic on base, the only issue is that he has the social skills of a toddler.

“Mary I promise, I’m not incompetent-“

“never said you were!!” She counteracts, rummaging through the kit, stating she had a blood pressure cuff in there, “Just…you’re a baby.”

You frown, “I’ve been a paramedic for five years, hardly-“

“Gunshot wound to the upper anterior leg, what do you do?” The question was lifeless, as if she had been planning this for a long while. She leaned on the counter as she watched the color drain from your face for a moment, of course she knew that you were capable, yet she also knew you were a dear in a headlights, “Knife to the lumbar spine, what do you do? Solider is 35 year old male, 260 pounds of pure muscle plus gear and you do not have a lift assist.”

“I-“

“oh you’re also in an active warzone so you falter you get shot, stitch.”

you gulp, you had been in New York as a paramedic for years, you had seen some horrible things but…you were also aware you were walking into murky waters, “Mary, I-“

She frowned to your words and turns back to her bag, “The team as a EMS refresher at 0700, tourniquets, packing, and anything else they have in their itty bitty first aid kit. I’ll be on a plane, you take care of it.”

with a huff you run your hands down your face as you move to grab your kit, the large backpack fit easily weighing upward to fifty pounds. You end up standing in your spot for a long moment, trying to figure out what to say next. However, you no longer cared on if Mary thought you stupid or not, you cared much more on the refresher course.

“Who…do we have a dummy?”

She scoffs, “No. You’re the patient, layer up.”

…oh.

—

Kyle Garrick was arguably one of the nicer (looking) personalities on base, he seemed genuine in his actions- or so you thought, as did he. If not a bit overbearing, thought he did not mean to, so when he saw you walking down the corridor with arms full, he offered to take some, simply because he wanted to be kind-nothing else.

“How are ya finding it?”

You let out a breathy laugh as you wait for the door to open, “Do you want an honest answer or one that makes me seem better?”

he feigns thoughtfulness and hums, “I’d say…honest.”

“Overwhelmed. But hey!” You were mainly rambling to the poor man, and when you get to the gym you drop the obscure items onto the table, where he followed- to where you were speaking face to face, “It could be a lot worse right?”

Kyle shrugs to your words, a smile on his features and he pats your shoulder, “You seem capable. The trainee fore you slept through an OP so..you’re doing good.”

great, you’re better than someone who slept through a mission that seemed like the lowest form of compliment but you would take it. “Awesome, well thank you, um…where is the Captain, Lieutenant and sergeant?”

“Well you’re looking at a Sergeant.”

a smile tugged at your lips and you look down, “I mean MacTavish, though I do suppose I have one accounted for.”

Kyle then motioned to the other side of the gym, which you hadn’t bothered to turn on the full lights as of yet, “LT is over there.”

that was one of the oddest sentences you had heard, so you frown and move to turn on the light, and sure enough you find the lieutenant casually sitting in the darkness, a book neatly folded on his lap. To the sight you furrow your eyebrows, “Should I ask, Lieutenant?”

He shook his head, standing up as he spoke, “No, probably not. Scare ya lil’ medic heart.” (He got there ten minutes before you and the lights were motion activated)

You laughed to that, not a real one though, more of petrified squeak, “Okay! Anyway! Where’s MacTa-“ just as you were speaking the door buzzed open and the very people you were speaking about came in, looking somewhat exhausted and barely awaken begrudgingly they grab the fold out chairs from the closet and sit down, and you would admit it was somewhat funny to see Johnny so…quiet. As you turn just double check everything was neat you didn’t see the slight fight, more like nudges between Johnny the Lieutenant, until he was tire of it and pulled the chair back and replaced it with his own. So when you turned around you saw a straight line of chairs, but for Johnny, who was now behind the Lieutenant, who was now directly in front of you.

You’ve been patient before, during paramedic school you wanted to be the patient. it was fun, now however you had a genuine worry if their tourniquet would just snap your leg off.

This will be fun.

(all I got! Comments and all that jazz mean so much to me, toodles!)

[ohwaitimthewriter]

The Memory Keeper

Chapter 5: Legacy.

Pairing: Noa x human!reader

Warnings: Description of character death. Description of injuries. Some violence.

Words: 5.6k+ (like... how??)

Summarize: A woman, allowed to live as long as the virus keeps running through her body, living on autopilot for 260 years, is going to see her life takes a new turn, finding hope in something that might come to put an end to her wandering.

A/N: For the love of God, IT IS FINALLY HERE! And don't ask me how he knows about Picasso. He just knows. (Nope, I'm not talking about who you think I'm talking about). I hope you'll like it!

Enjoy your reading 😊

The Memory Keeper Masterlist / Planet of The Apes Masterlist

Narrating wasn't the problem. It never had been. Even if the tears always joined the party and your throat formed such tight knots that it became difficult to form the necessary words. You'd done it before, years ago, you'd done it.

"Where is he?" Noa had asked. "Dead." You had answered, in a whisper.

You were vigorously plucking, blade by blade, the grass you had been sitting on. Each blade pulled from the ground stood for every tear your body wanted to cry, but which you swallowed before they could form.

You didn't really understand why he wanted to know when you had told him you'd found a horse for him, that it would only take a few days, just a few days, and then they could both, he and Raka, go about their business.

So why did he want to know?

At that simple word, you noticed that his eyes were searching for something in the depths of his thoughts, and he suddenly crouched down in front of you, almost waiting for you to unravel the whole story of this Caesar. This Caesar whose name he had already heard through the masks, through Raka, but who made no sense to him when it came to you. This Caesar who had to be someone else. This Caesar who couldn't be the previous two.

Noa watched as you mentally counted the blades of grass you plucked from the ground and tossed a little further. Your eyes were telling a story. And with the short time he'd spent with you, he knew how rare it was. But this Caesar could obviously work miracles, and that made him curious.

You knew that Noa was tilting his head more and more, as you tried to lower yours even further to the ground, almost wishing you could dig a hole and bury yourself in it to prevent him from watching a film you'd like to forget. The heavy images in your head acted like weights, and gravity became a constant struggle not to curl up completely on the ground.

…

Dead.

And those heavy images that kept flashing by. Such heavy images…

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

You had seen him fall.

Maurice at his side, one hand desperately stroking Caesar's leg, almost as if for comfort, who had just collapsed on one side. The lifeless body. The soothed face.

The smile you had flashed just a second earlier dropped as your blurred vision took over, and you suddenly felt as if you were drowning.

Maurice sang a series of hoots in such distress that it didn't take long for the apes to realize what was happening, as Rocket rushed to Caesar's lifeless body. You had wanted to do the same, running to him, trying something, a cardiac massage, blowing air into his lungs, anything, but your legs wouldn't let you.

Because they knew better.

So they gave up on you. You ignored the pain of your knees hitting the rocky ground. Your eyes searched frantically for his as if he were suddenly going to open them and reassure everyone that he was all right. And the more you tried to see his green eyes again, the more your throat tightened into a knot so intense it hurt. The walls of your throat twisted with such force that swallowing became impossible.

He was going to open them. He had to. He must open them.

But seconds passed like minutes without anything happening, and a stab slowly sank into your chest, forcing you to tighten your arms around it as you refused to take your eyes off Caesar. The sharp pain coursing through your body took its time to twist your stomach, and a sob churned in your mouth, unable to escape.

If his eyes didn't open, maybe you'd see his ribcage rise. Maybe you'd catch a glimpse of his lungs, hidden behind the muscles of his chest, gasping for oxygen. Maybe you'd missed it, so if you lingered long enough, maybe you'd see his chest inflate, if only a little, just a tiny bit… " Inflate, please inflate" you addressed it in silence, wishing that his ribcage would somehow prove to you that he was still there.

But his thorax remained silent.

Then your eyes travelled back to his face. And there was no longer any doubt. His features, so familiarly hardened by a scowl that naturally stuck to him after all those years of fighting, protecting and providing for his clan, had relaxed into a serenity that had belonged only to Cornelia, only to his sons, to behold. A serenity that Caesar, on occasions when you respectfully teased the hell out him, would secretly grant you.

There could be no more doubt as your tears spilled down your cheeks, unable to move in front of Caesar, in front of the one who had decided to keep you safe.

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

On the rare days when you were reminded that you'd never see again the green eyes of the ape who had accepted you as one of his own, you wondered if there was anything you could have done. Maybe if you'd pushed harder on your leg muscles, even if it meant straining them, maybe you could have taken action and tried to bring him back to life. If you'd seen the crossbow bolt embedded deep between his ribs earlier, if you could have removed it… And as is often the case, with "ifs" a whole world could be remade.

You kept pecking at the blades of grass with your fingers, and as you didn't seem to want to delve any deeper into the story being told behind your veiled eyes, Noa decided that maybe you needed some help to talk.

"How?"

Noa was careful with his words, lest you shut down entirely and the emotions he could easily read on your face fade back into oblivion. It was easier when he could see your emotions, because he could adjust his attitude accordingly and skillfully get what he wanted.

You signed a single word to him, not finding the heart to pronounce it, "killed."

The wheels of his brain began to spin and Noa suddenly wondered if your Caesar hadn't been killed like his father had been, by the same apes who had plundered his village. The same apes he was trying to find to bring his clan back home, whatever the cost. The pieces of the puzzle were beginning to fit together in his head. He wanted to know the story, he was becoming almost impatient, perhaps lacking empathy for the loss you had suffered and which obviously affected you greatly, but he was eager to know if he was right in his train of thought.

His eyes were drawn to your hip, on which you seemed to be leaning less in your cross-legged position. He had the impression that it was higher up, while your posture was slightly tilted to the left, as if your pelvis on the right was raised by an inch or two.

What if you'd been injured when your Caesar died?

Noa moved his arm up, and the movement drew your eyes to follow his hand, slightly folded in on itself, as it pointed to your hip.

"Wounded." he observed. "When your Caesar died?"

Surely, if you confirmed his words, it would be one step closer to the accuracy of his hypothesis.

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

Screams. Piercing. Human. It didn't take overdeveloped hearing to hear them, and Koba gloated at the thought of a human suffering.

It hadn't been his first intent to go and check. Caesar had asked him to keep an eye on the outer perimeter of the forest to ensure there were no intruders, and that was exactly what he intended to do. At least, until those cries disturbed his watch.

A human female.

The agony that struck his sensitive eardrums was only a few hundred meters away, and he would have liked to have left her where she was, no matter what happened to her, the piercing pain of her groans made it clear that she would eventually lose her life, and consequently she was no threat to the colony.

Koba began to move from branch to branch when a deep voice, this time a male, bellowed angrily, and suddenly the sobs echoing through the valley seemed to be muffled.

This, however, was more annoying.

The leather around your wrists, head and ankles was sticking to your skin. Drops of sweat beaded on your forehead and puddled around the strap that sheared your skull. You felt like your skin was burning under the leather edges and you swore that the moment they took it off, your skin would stick to the torturous object, peeling off like the skin of an orange. You could only grit your teeth at the thought.

Tears mixed freely with sweat and you weren't sure which one was burning your eyes. All you knew was that the drops were tumbling down your temples and pooling in the hollow of your ear before cascading in a tiny waterfall down your lobe and crashing onto the surgical table that supported your body.

You stared up at the blurred ceiling above you, and even if you wanted to look away, the leather strap around your head prevented you from making any movement.

It would soon be over.

You reassured yourself as best you could, the scientists' words still engraved in your mind:

"What if… we combined?" One of them had suggested as if you weren't already there in the room. "Combined?" asked his colleague. "Dislocated knee and fractured hip." Explained the first. "We know about dislocation. The tissues regenerate in 2 days if we put the limb back where it belongs, and in 4 days if we let it hang."

The second explained, laughing as he recalled an experiment that was successful for him, but a disaster for you, "The other day, Weston even had the idea of tying a rope to her dislocated elbow to see if the pull exerted would make healing longer or impossible, and this dumbass almost succeeded in making her lose her elbow!" he sneered. "She must have had a tough time of it!" The first man's eyes widened, but he couldn't help chuckling. "She's being paid for it." The second man shrugged.

Paid for. As if you'd had any choice. That day when the ALZ-113 test came back positive. That day when, to the utter disbelief of everyone in the room, including you, they'd gone ballistic, because how could it be? How could you be positive for this virus without any symptoms? Without degrading yourself mentally? Physically? How could you still stand up and not cough your lungs out?

You were only supposed to be immune. You were part of the group that had been commandeered for several months to try and understand why some people couldn't be infected. This group of people selected after lengthy observation following exposure to the virus.

For 3 months. 3 months with a virus test at the end of each.

1 month of exposure to the virus.

No symptoms. Test. Test negative.

1 additional month.

Still no symptoms. Test negative.

1 last month.

Free of symptoms. Test.

Positive.

And the panic was on.

Human vileness hardly surprised you anymore, but these scientists were bound to receive some awards for their cruelty.

"Okay, here's what I propose, we try the hip dislocation but we're going to offer a bit of a challenge to the body." The second man replied. "A challenge?" The first one asked. "You're new to this program, so you don't know everything yet, but we've taken it to the next level, no longer trying to find out what the virus regenerates or how it does it…"

The second scientist then grabbed a hammer from the makeshift workbench set up earlier, and your pupils suddenly dilated at the sight of the tool swinging at the end of a string, dangling from the scientist's finger. Your blood ran cold and tension began to contract all your muscles, unconsciously preparing for the shock.

"We're looking for the limits." The scientist concluded, gripping the hammer handle firmly. "I… I'll get the anesthetic." The first scientist stated, however the more experienced one stopped him. "It only wastes the product. Remember, the virus regenerates any cell it considers sick or dead."

Oh, and how you wished with all your being that you could just fight back and rip off those straps whose leather had become all too familiar to your skin. Today, it was going to hurt. You knew it, it wasn't new, it always hurt and your only line of defense was to grit your teeth and pray that it would happen quickly. But that hammer. Oh you could only imagine, no, your body already knew how much raw, stabbing pain it would cause. Even a stab was more bearable. Even before the flat of the hammer made contact with the targeted part, you could feel your bones cracking and shattering. Each splinter of bone would sink into your muscles, your inner epidermis, and why not shear off the more protuberant veins running along your thigh and hip.

You could feel your muscles tensing in anticipation, to the point of twisting the joints of your pelvis, as if your body were trying to hide as far as possible those bones already well protected under the layer of muscle, fat and skin that formed a bulwark between them and the outside world.

The two scientists must have thought you were a ridiculous worm, squirming to get your body away from their painfully intrusive hands, but the straps were doing their job. The tinkling of the straps, as you tried to remove your wrists from their grip, drew the attention of the scientists, who stared at you scornfully. A ridiculous worm that could not escape the boot that would crush it.

The first impact ripped through your flesh and your face contorted into a grimace, a taste of iron spread through your mouth and the pressure you exerted on your jaw to keep it shut sent a shower of needles down your cheeks and up to your temples, where the blood was pounding a beat that made you wish you could bang your head on the floor.

You didn't want to give them the pleasure of hearing your screams. Not now, not on the first blow.

If they wanted to hear them, they'd have to come and get them.

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

It may have been a long time ago, but the memory remained imperishable. How could it be when it was responsible for your constant limping.

Your body had been through a lot. But it had always been able to repair itself, patch itself up and regenerate every part, every cell, every bone in such an admirable way that you sometimes doubted you'd ever really been harmed.

But there was still this hip. A little wobbly, a little too rigid. And the screams. Oh, the screams, they had finally got them, and the delight on their faces left a bitter, vomit-inducing taste in your mouth.

In your fervent desire to strip the earth of its blades of grass, you had grabbed a flower stem and were working hard to remove each petal. A quick tug, a hammer blow, another quick tug, another hammer blow. Eighteen. You had counted eighteen.

The silent conversation you were having with yourself was mind-boggling to Noa. If he'd known earlier that fixing your frame was going to give him such an outpouring of expression and life from you, he'd have taken it upon himself to break it and fix it in the process much sooner.

If he had done so, maybe he'd never have had to deal with the wave… no, the tsunami of emotions he had never really been ready to receive. It was yet another piece of the puzzle he was missing. How could an Echo be both so unexpressive and yet overflowing with feelings like a river after a big storm?

Noa almost wanted to come closer, still crouching down, wanting to force you to answer his question as if he could pull the wool over your eyes with his mere proximity. "Tell me I'm right." That was what he wanted most when he hadn't even shared his train of thought with you. Because if he was right, your behavior would have found a logic.

The despair of seeing your world crumble helplessly.

The guilt of not having been able to protect.

The shame of not having been strong enough.

Emptiness, faced with the inert body of a loved one.

This would make sense to Noa because he himself had felt them. But his entire pyramid of thought collapsed in a single one of your sentences.

"No, before I even knew him."

If Noa could have cut into your skull to see what was going on inside, you were sure he would have. Noa squinted, trying to make sense of a story for which he had only scraps of words.

"Where's his clan?" Noa attempted another question and to his surprise, your answer was quick to ring in his ears. "I don't know, I left."

Oh.

It would have taken a trained eye to notice, but Noa puffed out his chest slightly, proud to have asked the right question. You'd had a life before living with his clan for a while, at least, long enough to have such feelings when your Caesar died.

And then, his line of thought came to an abrupt end.

OH.

You. An Echo. Living with a clan of apes.

An Echo and apes, sharing the same living space.

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

Watching you go back and forth between the arms of the conscious and unconscious was quite enthralling for Koba.

Even though he could feel the bile rising in his throat, he had to admit that you had put up a good fight. Your human vanity had been far too great to succumb so quickly to your abusers. If the men in white had come to a tragic end under Koba's murderous fists and fangs, he hadn't been shy about admiring for a while the sadistic game those men had started with you.

There was nothing more delectable than watching a human suffer, and Koba was quite in awe of humans' boundless creativity when it came to torture.

He could just as easily kill you. It would have been easy in such a vulnerable state, but where would the fun be if you didn't see him do it?

The terror he'd been able to read in the eyes of these men dressed in white had only been an appetizer, like the hazelnut that crunches under the tooth to whet the appetite.

The screams. It was a feast he'd relished in. Koba took care of it. He'd wanted to hear them scream like he'd heard you rip your lungs out in pain.

Koba squinted at the thought. No, it had nothing to do with you. It had nothing to do with seeing your hands and feet bound and pinned to a table the way he had been. It had nothing to do with the fact that the current state of your pelvis looked like a Picasso painting and that the scars, if and only if, he let you survive, would match those scattered across his body.

No.

He'd wanted to hear them scream because they were men wearing white. Humans who had mutilated him. Because they were human.

A whine.

Koba turned his gaze to your face. And what a satisfying sight it was. He could read on your every feature the pain that had circulated through all your cells, a pain he imagined to be so deep that it had left its marks on the skin of your contorted face. Even in the unconscious, he could see the repetitive twitching of your body trying to digest the hammer blows it had repeatedly received.

To him, it was a painting, a work of art, and he might have wished he'd inflicted it on you himself, but not to observe other human beings, your bloodthirsty species, inflicting such suffering on one of their own would have been a real waste.

How ironic. As human as you were, it didn't stop them. No better than a laboratory rat… No better than the ape he was in the eyes of those men wearing white.

How ironic to let you live only to see you realize how insignificant you are to your own species. To the species that claimed to be superior. The idea of you, a human, realizing that even this had been taken away from you by these other humans, no matter who you were, what you had or hadn't done, was so pleasing to Koba's vengeance that he yanked each of the straps that held you to the table.

And Caesar? Oh Caesar will see. He'll understand Koba.

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

"Raka… told me a story."

The hesitation in Noa's voice caught your attention and you slowly began to forget to peck at the blades of grass at your feet. What story? Your gaze, lost in your memories, landed on Noa, curious to hear what he had to tell you.

Noa found himself fascinated by the stubbornness of your irises to continue the story you were telling yourself, while at the same time showing your sudden interest in his words. He felt as if he were observing the depths of a river, its swirls warping the flora and fauna moving beneath the surface, with only the desire to plunge his face underwater and let him see clearly the life that lay there, without filters, without waves, without murky waters.

"Apes and… Echoes" he pointed to you with a wave of his hand. "A very long time ago… would have been like… you and your Caesar."

Noa watched your facial features pull back into a confused scowl. You said nothing. He wondered if you were inviting him to go on with his explanation or if you were silently passing incredulous judgment on a potential distant truth that he himself had felt, when Raka had told him stories of a past older than the elders of his village. After all, even if a clan of apes had shared a part of your life, it was very far from being standard practice in this world, and quite the contrary, you may have been the only Echo in the present world to have lived in such a way. It would come as no surprise to be suspicious of this potential truth, but Noa was sure that you were living proof that Raka might have been right about that distant past.

But to you, something was wrong. And you felt your neurons searching for connections that didn't yet exist, because it was more than obvious from your own experience that apes and humans had lived side by side. It wasn't an unknown story, or even a harebrained one, it was your story.

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

Perched on the edge of a boulder, your legs dangling in the air above the rest of the colony, you were quietly watching the apes go about their daily lives.

A month had passed.

A month, but it had really only been a week since you'd ventured outside the hut you'd been brought to to help your body heal.

Something was lurking in the pit of your stomach, a feeling you could hardly identify because it was so unstable. It grew inside of you and spread like water from a dam that had just burst, although you didn't know if you should really welcome it and let it settle in your veins so that it could nourish each and every one of your cells. And whatever that feeling was, whether positive, negative or a bit of both, it kept growing and trying to find its true nature.

This feeling had begun to feed on what it saw around you in the three weeks since you had regained awareness of your surroundings.

Distrust, in the green and golden eyes of some of the apes who passed by your hut.

Benevolence, in the leathery hands that took care to check on the progress of your healing.

Curiosity, in the gruff words that asked you questions to which you didn't have all the answers.

Hatred, in the growls that hissed through the sharp teeth shown to you when you dared a glance outside your hut.

And, above all, empathy, in the gentle, patient gestures made to ensure that no more pain would be caused to you as your body worked crudely to create bones and flesh previously ripped to shreds.

Three weeks. That's how long it had taken for you to be able to put one foot on the ground again and for your hip to weld to your pelvis. Your body had done what it could with what it had left. You knew you'd never walk the way you used to. You didn't need an X-ray or a CAT scan to feel the bone plate that had fastened the bone in your pelvis to the bone at the top of your femur.

You wondered what the scientists would call this new bone, their future pride and joy. Maybe Weston would take all the credit, after all, even if he wasn't the designer, he was the head of the program.

And this feeling, which continued its perpetual development, suddenly twisted your stomach. They couldn't give it a name if you didn't come back.

You snapped out of your thoughts when a low, guttural grunt drew your gaze to an ape crouching beside you.

Caesar. That was how he had introduced himself when you had regained consciousness.

You smiled at him before focusing your admiring gaze once again on the goings-on below.

"It's… amazing what you've done."

A low vibration emerged from his chest in a dull chuckle, and you didn't need to see it to know he was proud of the work he'd done.

"Not I, all of us."

You nodded keenly, but couldn't help feeling that he was being too modest, for if it hadn't been for him, all those apes would never have had the life they'd got here.

This plunged you into a form of nostalgia for a time that had not yet arrived, but which was taking shape a little more day by day. A time when humans would die out and the apes would continue to thrive, and you couldn't yet imagine to what extent.

"The world is going to change so much…" Your voice seemed lost in a distant future when the realization hit you. You turned sharply towards him, your right hip screaming insults through your nerve endings, "No, what I mean is…" you rushed to reply while massaging the painful part of your pelvis in a silent apology, "it's really fantastic what's happening to you all and it's a great thing but…" You paused in your clumsy explanation before resuming, your eyes busy looking at your fidgeting hands, resigned, "Sorry, that was stupid."

You suddenly looked up as Caesar took hold of your wrist. Cautiously, he stretched your arm slightly towards him, placing the palm of your open hand skywards. His grip wasn't meant to be aggressive; in fact, he was silently and gently showing you the best way to ask for forgiveness. You felt his leathery fingers glide confidently over your palm and you were so taken aback that Caesar, after accepting your apology, had to gently push your hand towards you to indicate that the exchange was over.

"The world… has already… changed." His baritone voice resonated right into your ribcage, and you observed him place beside you a wristband adorned with what looked like polished white stone. "But you can… learn."

The more you looked at the wristband, the stranger those little white stones seemed to you. You hardly dared to touch it, and you cast a questioning glance at Caesar, who was cautiously observing your reaction.

"Wha… what's this?" "Bones." He replied simply, pointing to your pelvis.

The bones from your pelvis. It took you a minute to digest the information, but that was all it took to understand.

The small pieces of bone had been carefully cleaned and gloriously adorned around this wristband woven from a bamboo stalk. Your bones, which had been bruised and abused in human hands, had been reassembled and treated with respect in the hands of an ape. A form of silent agreement that said: if humans have torn a part of you away, apes, if you were willing, could have it back to you.

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

Unconsciously, your hand had slipped around your wrist where the bracelet had rested there for years before being lost. Your fingertips remembered the asymmetrical outlines of the polished bones and the way the woven bamboo rods rolled across your skin, and it was hard to forget them after so many years of playing with them between your fingers.

It had been a long time since you'd thought about it, and if it had still been there, maybe you could have shown it to Noa and confessed that Raka was right, that it wasn't "would have been" but simply "was".

The issue wasn't to relate, but…

And you tilted your head to one side. Your eyes crinkled into a thousand questions that you couldn't formulate yourself and that remained on the tip of your tongue as if no words in any language could really translate them into something audible.

"H-How…?" You couldn't finish your question. "That's what Raka said… when I told him about the masks."

Noa was not sure whether he should tell you about the masks, or even why he had brought himself to your doorstep. And you'd never gotten him used to that intense stare of yours in four days. Now it was your turn to want to open his skull like you would open a Tupperware to see what was hidden inside.

You stared at him intently and caught his gaze turning to Raka, who was nearby looking after his horse.

Noa was looking for some form of escape, or even comfort, from Raka, who he felt was best placed to explain these things to you. But Raka wasn't looking at him. He couldn't help him out of the mess Noa had gotten himself into.

Noa stumbled over his words, not knowing where to start, but he sensed that you wouldn't help him collect his thoughts and translate them into words. But if you didn't want to help him make them audible, yourself far too confused and bewildered, he could always sign them to you.

"Long before, another Caesar… A different one from yours, too far away to be yours" And you straightened up, suddenly wanting to get closer to Noa, silently taken aback by his movements that you were slowly deciphering. "Raka said, the masks, they took his name." Noa went on signing, amplifying his gestures to make sure you understood. "To twist his words."

And the signs that followed left you speechless.

"Ape do not kill ape." Noa began, before going on with gestures seeming like an echo from the valleys of a mountain range overshadowing bygone days.

And as you stared at Noa, your irises detailing his every move in their sockets, you finally noticed.

How had you not noticed before? Surely too busy looking away, too busy drowning in lists, sinking into activities that had kept you bodily functional, too busy wanting them both to go away.

The scar on his right pectoral. Your vision blurred a little more at the signs you knew by heart, the signs Caesar had told you over and over again until they became second nature. All you could see were his hands, close to his chest, his scar in the background, and for a fraction of a second you could see him, Caesar.

Caesar signed to you the words he was so proud of, puffing out his chest like an insolent child after getting the top mark in an exam, so proud of the words he'd invented that he let out a confident growl, straight from his ribcage.

"Apes, together, strong." You whispered Caesar's words in the rhythm he was so accustomed to signing them.

And a tear beaded down your cheek as you looked up into Caesar's face, realizing at first glance that it was really only Noa.

Noa observed your cheeks gradually covering with tears, not really understanding what had just gone through your head, but he too was speechless. How did you know his words? And before he could ponder the question any further, your barely audible voice forced him to focus on what you were about to reveal, his first name rolling off your lips.

"Noa… There is no other Caesar."

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆

Tags list:

@callsignwidow

@youdontknowe

@katzykat

@koshi-sama

@violet-19999

@queen-luna-007

@sciencewithottsnpotts

@sparks0918

@moonlightnyx

@analuw

[kiragghar]

My Baby Don't Cry

Pairing: -

Kir's notes: he's my adopted son the moment I saw his backstory :( pls take away all his pain, double it and give it to his parents :(

Tags: spoilers from chapter 260, Kaiser's backstory, 12 y.o Kaiser, mentioned child abu$3, fostering, the reader is gender neutral, the author is bad at comforting

word count: 1507

It was a bit late and you were walking home to your apartment, until you saw a figure in a hoodie curling up like a ball in an alleyway with a football in his arms. You approached the little kid, thinking that he was lost.

"Hi there little guy, why are you out here?" You squat down and ask the kid. He looked at you, his right eye bruised and his face a bit dirty. "A-are you okay?" You asked. He looked away for a while, hesitation in his eyes then shook his head.

~•~•~

Kaiser looked away from the stranger, if he says yes they'll probably leave him or take him back to that nightmare of a house. So he shook his head without making eye contact. "Oh, do you want me to take you home to your p-" Kaiser cut that question off with a hard shake of his head. "How about my place? Well, until you're a bit better," they ask, his heart was moved, and they asked him in a soft tone, the tone that he never heard, no one had treated him like that before. He nods, he wants to go far from that house. And this person seems nice, purely having good intentions.

~•~•~

"Okay then, let's go" You stood up and reached your hand down to him, hoping that he trusted you, aside from all the answers you got from him. He grabbed your hand and stood up himself.

You both walked along the now-closed shops, you let loose of your grip a bit thinking he would too, but instead, he gripped your hand a bit tighter. "So, what's your name?" you asked, trying to start a conversation. "Michael… Kaiser" he answered with a tired voice. "Michael Kaiser... That's a pretty name," you said. "Thank you..." He replied. It ended there, your walk was awkwardly silent until you arrived at your apartment.

~•~•~

The second they turned on the light switch, Kaiser felt weird. He never saw a house this bright and homey. Their apartment is filled with generally cute things, shelves with organized books sitting there, and a balcony with plants.

“You sit there okay, I'll get something for you to eat,” they say, pointing to the sofa and then disappearing into the kitchen. He sat on the sofa, ball in hand, and looked around, it's his first time sitting on a sofa, and it was comfy. He laid his back on the sofa, he felt more comfortable, the feeling he never got in ‘that’ house. The coffee table in front of him is neat with a succulent in the middle. A marveled at the foreign surroundings for a few minutes until they called him into the kitchen.

~•~•~

“Wash your hands first okay,” you ordered him. He nodded and walked to the next where you're standing. You turn the tap on and he reaches to the flowing water. When he finishes you turn off the tap (ofc) and dry his hands with a tea towel. “Wait,” you said to him as you dampened one corner of the tea towel. When you reached his face, he flinched back. “I won't hurt you, promise,” you assure him. With that, he permitted you to wipe the dirt off his face clean. When you're done cleaning his face you ask him to sit down at the dining table.

~•~•~

Kaiser sat down, grabbed a spoonful of food, and put it in his mouth. It's warm… And tasty… another weird feeling. He chewed and savored the food. This will probably be his first and last night here before going back to that miserable house.

They sat across him, eyes focusing on him. “I'm sorry, I forgot to introduce myself… I'm (y/n),” they introduce themselves. “Oh… N-nice to meet you…” he replies. They hummed in acknowledgment.

~•~•~

After he finished his meal you guided him to your bedroom. “You'll be sleeping here tonight, I'll be on the sofa if you need me,” you informed him, he looked at you and nodded unsurely. He walked to your bed and sat on the side of the bed for a bit. Then he lay down on your bed. “Good night Michael, sweet dreams,” you said as you slightly closed the door, leaving it ajar. You walk to the couch and lie on it. Your eyelids getting heavier and heavier and closed, finally asleep.

A few hours later you woke up to hear sniffling sounds from your bedroom. You walk and open your door slowly to see Michael lying facing away from the door. You slowly approach your bed and turn on the lamp on the bedside table. “Michael, are you okay?” you asked, you're worried something is wrong with him. He only shook his head in response, still facing away from you. “Do you want to tell me ab-” he shook his head. “Alright, I'll be here if you need me okay,” you inform him, he nods in response. After that, you walked to your desk and stayed there, finishing paperwork due in a few days. While you're finishing it, you think of something, he looks familiar, but you can't recall.

“(Y-y/n),” you heard a soft voice calling you. “Hm? What is it, Michael?” you asked. “You'll put me in the police station… right?” He asked, worried. What kind of question is that? You've heard about lost children being turned in to the police station when they're lost. But you don't think that's his case. “Do you want to?” You asked. He shook his head, hard. “I… I don't want to go back there…” he says, voice breaking, on the verge of crying. “Michael…” you said as you sat beside him and hugged him, comforting him. “I… I don't want to go back… My father, he… he hates me…” he uttered, and you feel his tears soaking into your shirt. “A-and he… he likes to… beat me up…” he continued. You're shocked when he said that. His father is insane, no guy would beat a child this bad. “There there… You're safe now, no one will beat you up here,” you assure him hoping that you don't hurt him. He only nods, you can understand how hard it is to talk while crying. “How about you stay with me here for a while,” you said. “Y-yeah,” he replied in agreement.

~•~•~

Bonus: in the end, Kaiser's father goes in jail for child abu$e, reader adopts Kaiser, they grow a parent-child bond, reader supports Kaiser knowing little about soccer and lives happily ever after ✧⁺⸜(●˙▾˙●)⸝⁺✧

[milaisreading]

Based on chapter 260 (kinda has spoilers?)

Warning: Reader is crossdressing here so I am using a mix of she/her and he/him. It has angst, but also fluff here. Requests are open

⚽️Blue lock belongs to Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura⚽️

Pairings: Kaiser x CD!Yn (Ness x CD!Yn, if he squint)

It was one of those days on which (Y/n) didn't feel like doing anything. Ego had cut their training short, and the 5 teams that were occupying the Blue Lock facility had the rest of the day off. (Y/n) yawned as she rolled around in her bed, unable to fall asleep and glanced over at the digital clock on the wall.

'It's only 15:30... I still have some time left till dinner.' She thought and sat up in her bed, looking at the two beds that usually Ness and Kaiser occupied. To her surprise, neither were there, and thinking back, she couldn't remember seeing Kaiser during morning practice. Only Ness was there, who looked gloomy and barely talked to anyone, even the German side couldn't get anything out of him.

'So annoying... What are those two even up to?' (Y/n) hummed, feeling a little worried about both boys and got out of bed, deciding to go look for them.

'It's not like I care about either of them. I just don't want to be told off for not knowing where they are.' She thought to herself as she left the bedroomz deciding to go room by room and see if they were there.

Surprisingly enough, it didn't take (Y/n) too long to find either of them, as they were in the monitoring room Kaiser would use to stalk- rewatch her and Isagi's plays. That wasn't the weirdest part, oddly enough, what was weird was finding Ness sitting on the ground and... crying?

"Ness, are you alright?"

The magenta-eyed boy immediately looked up as (Y/n) approached him. To his surprise, she wasn't looking at him in a condescending manner, but in genuine worry.

"Is everything alright? Did Kaiser say something to you again?" The boy flinched and shook his head. (Y/n) sighed and looked at the closed door, there was a long silence and the girl thought for a moment that nobody was there. Maybe Kaiser and Ness were never in the monitor room to begin with.

"Come on, get up. The floor is cold, you will get sick." (Y/n) said calmly as she grabbed Ness' arm and tried to pull him up, but the boy refused to move.

"I am fine! Why do you even care? Don't you hate me?!" Ness yelled and glared up at her. (Y/n) was surprised by both his yelling and crying. Sure, they did argue, but he never yelled at her.

"I don't hate you-"

Before the girl could finish her sentence, a loud crash and scream were heard from inside the room. (Y/n) let go of Ness' arm and looked at the door in shock and quickly made her way towards it, completely ignoring the boy's protests.

'Wasn't that Kaiser's scream?' She wondered and quickly opening the door, but what she saw inside made her freeze up in her spot. The room looked nothing like she remembered. Glass was all over the place, one of the TVs was shattered, and there were blood splatters in some places.

"Kaiser... Did you injure yourself?" (Y/n) asked in worry, looking at the boy who was kneeling on the ground. The blonde said nothing as he held his bleeding hand, not looking at the girl, just taking deep breaths.

"Kaiser? Can you answer me?" (Y/n) walked over to the boy, avoiding all the shards that were scattered around the place.

'What did he even break?' She wondered when she stood above him. Calmly, she put a hand on his shoulder, trying to shake him out of whatever state he was in.

"Kaiser, let's clean that wound. You will infect it-"

Before she could finish her sentence, Kaiser's head shot up towards her, the dull look causing her to back away a little.

"Kaiser?-"

"Shut up!" The blonde yelled and jumped at her, knocking her to the ground.

"Hey! What's the big deal- ACK!" (Y/n)'s eyes widened in horror when the boy put his hands around her throat, squeezing it a little.

"Are you insane? Let go!" She glared up, but that quickly faltered as the boy started to squeeze her throat tighter.

"You useless piece of garbage!! Why can't you leave me alone!!" Kaiser started yelling while tears streamed down his face. (Y/n) started stretching his wrists, hoping it might snap him out of this state.

'What happened to him?! He will strangle me at this point!' (Y/n) started to panic as she felt the loss of oxygen, but Kaiser's grip didn't falter. By now, Ness ran into the room as well, panicking when he saw what was going on. He started yelling at Kaiser to stop this, even tried to move him off of (Y/n).

"Stupid piece of shit-"

"You are acting just like your dad now!"

The blonde froze at Ness' words and quickly let go of (Y/n)'s throat. The girl immediately took in a few breaths, relief washing over here for a moment.

'Wait! His father?'

(Y/n) thought as she started to cough, which made Kaiser finally step out of his state.

"(Y/n)..." The blonde whispered as he looked down at her, then quickly got off of the girl and moved away as far as possible. Ness helped her sit up while the girl kept her eyes fixated on Kaiser.

"N-Ness... Get me a first aid kit out of the medic room." She said to the boy, who looked at her in confusion.

"Did you cut yourself?"

"No, just go and get it."

The boy decided not to argue for now and quickly ran out. After he left, (Y/n) refocused her attention on Kaiser, who was staring at his hands in horror.

The girl shook her head and got off of the ground, walking over to Kaiser slowly.

'His dad.... Did his dad hurt him? What else could he have done to him?' She thought once her mind was clear, anger bubbling up inside of her.

"Kaiser-"

"Don't come near me." The boy looked up at her in horror,she could see a new set of tears form in his eyes.

"It's-"

"No, stay away."

"Fine. It's fine."

Kaiser's eyes widened as (Y/n) kneeled in front of him and pulled the boy into a hug.

"It's fine... You are fine now. Your dad isn't here. You aren't your dad."

Kaiser's eyes widened, the quickly hugged her back and buried his face into her shoulder.

"It's fine. You can cry here."

It didn't take too long for him to start just doing that.

It took another hour for Kaiser to calm down before (Y/n) could tend to his wounds. She did this in the privacy of the room she shared with the two Germans. Kaiser was quiet the whole time, while Ness was the one who explained to her what had happened, after the blonde gave him the permission. To say (Y/n) was infuriated would be an understatement, but she needed to keep calm, someone had to stay calm in this room. Eventually, her anger turned into sadness as she looked over at Kaiser, who looked more like a shell of his former self.

"I am sorry for-"

"Ness, it's not your fault." (Y/n) looked at the boy, then back at Kaiser, who avoided making eye-contact with her. She then looked down at the bandages around his wrists, guilt hitting her as she remembered that she had scratched him there.

"I am sorry, Kaiser."

The boy's eyes widened as she grabbed his wrists and kissed the bandaged parts.

"Everything will be fine." She smiled weakly, really hoping she was right this time. (Y/n) had no idea if anything will be fine. Kaiser was a broken shell, Ness wasn't doing better either, and she didn't know what to do to make it better.

"I hope so." Kaiser finally said as he pulled her into a hug. (Y/n) smiled sadly and hugged him back.

"And you won't leave me. Got it?"

"Yeah, sure." She said back, not thinking much of her words or his serious tone. Ness bit his lip as he watched them and slowly sat on Kaiser's bed, looking at (Y/n) nervously for a moment.

"Can I have a hug as well, (Y/n)?" She blinked at Ness in confusion for a moment, but eventually nodded her head.

"Sure-"

"But not now. He will be hugging me till I am happy again." Kaiser warned Ness, tightening his arms around her form. The other boy rolled his eyes and nodded his head.

"Yeah, yeah."

Kaiser pouted as (Y/n) started caressing his hair, leaning closer into her touch.

[bellysfromthefarside]

2 of 7 - Burger King Remake - Gorging at the Fridge

Travis engorged gut at the fridge being poke by his frat mate. The kitchen door swung open and Travis waddled in after another shift at Bubba’s. It had been nine months since he began working at the burger restaurant, and his belly had continued to swell. “So…what’s the damage this time?” one of the roommates asked, as Travis slowly moved over to the refrigerator.

“One dozen burgers! A new record!” Travis answered proudly, while opening the refrigerator door and removing a beer. “You look like there’s a basketball under your shirt,” stated the other roommate, as he reached out towards the hugely rounded belly.

Travis was in the process of taking the first big gulp of his beer when the finger of his roommate was placed into the deep belly button. “Buuuurrrrppp…” Travis let out a big belch, “Be careful, I’m nice and stuffed tonight!” “You’re overstuffed every night! You’re as fat as a fuckin’ hog…you need to find a job that doesn’t do this to your belly,” the roommate recommended, as he continued to poke the bulging burger gut. “I like working there…the people are great…and so is the food…and its free! Besides,” Travis continued, “It’s not that I’m fat; I’m just gettin’ a bit of a gut!” Even Travis couldn’t help but laughing at that statement as the three of them looked at the huge bloated belly. Travis had in fact gained a lot of weight. He was now up to 260 pounds with almost all the new weight stored in his very protruding round belly. He had only gone up a couple of blue jean sizes, but even an extra large T-shirt had to stretch to fit over his gut.

Source

------ Voting and Accessing Exclusive to the full 100 sets dropping on Patreon Now which image is you favorite? Voting decides the images in the final video production. The full set impressive! Happening only over at Patreon Exclusives.

See you rounder! Tom

[barbielore]

I'll be honest, I don't really know who Mark Ryden is. According to Google, he is the "godfather of pop surrealism", which I am assuming is true although I have seen some extremely dodgy things come up on Google lately as purported facts.

The reason I know his name is because he did a Mattel collaboration to create some of the most visually striking Barbies of recent years.

To work through the multiple dolls he was involved with, it is easiest to start with Barbie at the Surrealist Ball. These dolls are not particularly extravagant at first glance, but -- and I don't know about you -- the more I look the more I find fascinating things to look at.

I couldn't begin to hope to put this into words. But just as you start to get a sense of these dolls, I propose moving along to Pink Pop Barbie.

Pink Pop Barbie is a fascinating creature. Creature is the only word I have for her. Don't even get me started on that flowerpot with a face, or her meat handbag. (Also, I thought that beast on four legs beside her was a sheep, but according to the official Mattel website, it is a yak. I don't know enough about yaks to dispute it.)

Then thirdly, please feast your eyes on Barbie Bee.

I mean. That sure is a Barbie Bee. There is no other word for it. In a way the simplest, and accordingly the most modestly priced, but it still evokes more questions than I could ever hope to have answered.

Modestly priced, you may ask. Yes, Mattel originally released this for $260 AUD. If you are asking how this is modestly priced, consider that the Barbie at the Surrealist Ball dolls tipped the scales at $860 AUD.

These are all sold out now, but you can still look upon these dolls on the Mattel website (at least, as of right now - I don't know how much longer they'll be there -- I guess it will be really funny if they're gone before my queue fires) as well as other parts of the collaboration, like brooches, tote bags and an umbrella

[silksongeveryday]

Drawing Hornet everyday until Silksong comes out - Day 260

woooo finally done with october prompts!! As fun as they were, it was definitely straining, especially with some of the stuff that happened this month. While I won’t be doing that style ever again for almost the whole month, I may still do it occasionally if I feel like it!

Oh also quick announcement! I’m temporarily keeping my ask box open for non-request related stuff, like regular asks, comments, etc until I finish with the backlog of requests I have currently sitting in the inbox. If you wanna leave a message or something like that feel free! I may answer and post as well :)

[useyourwordsdarling]

Hello mor, in the absence of your null response to 5 of my unanswered questions, I have had to resort to desperate methods and I have had to release my petals to other large and long fingers, they have not been as good but it was necessary, right?💖

I avoided making a post about this but it’s getting out of hand. I know some people want their asks answered but I also need those same people to understand that as I write this I have around 260 unanswered asks. Which is quite a bit…I do read all of them but it’s not that simple to just answer every single one. I still have a life outside of this at the end of the day and every time I answer one I already get 3-4 more asks within a couple hours. So people should understand that there’s a chance I won’t reply to their ask, yes I’ll read it, but I might not reply to it.

That also works for other blogs on tumblr. There’s never a 100% chance someone will reply to your ask, and that’s just how it is. I don’t reply it because I dislike your question or anything like that, it’s nothing personal. And I think most importantly and that works for everyone on tumblr as well but no one owns you anything. People don’t own you attention, pictures, replies or anything. We all are free to decide if we want to do that or not, we aren’t entitled to someone’s attention.

And I’m not really sure what they tried to do at the end here like trying to make me feel bad about it? Which is pretty funny honestly…But I guess pop off queen and have fun with your long fingers? Anyways, it’s nothing personal. I can’t reply to every single one, but I do my best to read them all. And I do appreciate them. Tumblr really is such a weird place..

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

I’m confused. Why would he get deported? He’s married to (presumably) a US citizen already. Not sure if I missed something?

Well, the simplest explanation is that everyone who immigrates/emigrates to the US has to fill out paperwork to stay here. Doesn't matter who you are, who your family is, who you're married to, where you're from, what money you have. Everyone fills out the paperwork.

Being married to a US citizen only affects the type of visa (Spouse of US Citizen) you get and which application (Form I-130, the Petition for Alien Relative) your sponsor fills out to start the process.

The longer/more detailed explanation of the process, and the background for the lawsuit about Harry's visa application, is this:

(Apologies for how small the text is. I didn't want it to be a multi-page thing.) I'll describe it below the jump.

But essentially, Harry's process to become a legal permanent resident through his marriage to a US citizen is:

Sponsor/Meghan submits Form I-130 to the US Citizenship and Immigration Service (USCIS), requesting approval to bring her spouse to live with her in the US.

USCIS reviews the form and will approve (left green circle) or deny (left red circle) the application. If they deny it, that ends the process. They can try again later. If they approve it, then:

Sponsor/Meghan pays a bunch of fees and a visa case is opened.

(The big giant square text) More paperwork and documents are submitted. Meghan and Harry do this together. (I'll explain this in a bit.)

The Spouse/Harry has his immigration interview.

USCIS will review the visa case file and make a decision on whether to approve or deny the visa request. If they deny the visa, then depending on the justification for denial, the Spouse/Harry may request a waiver or he can submit additional documentation for further consideration. If the visa is approved, then the Spouse/Harry is given approval to travel to the US and once he's here, he gets permanent residency - aka "the green card."

Now, getting back to the giant text block and the "more paperwork" requirement. In this phase of the process for a spousal visa, the couple must provide:

An affadavit of support from the Sponsor/Meghan (this basically says that she has enough income to support Harry and they won't need government assistance)

Supporting financial documents (probably tax declarations)

Harry's passport

Additional photographs of Harry

Form DS-260, the Immigrant Visa and Alien Registration Application from Harry (this is Harry's application for residency)

Harry's birth certificate

Their marriage certificate

Harry's military records (the US requires anyone with military service in any country to submit)

Harry's police certificate (information about whether he has been arrested or charged with crimes/what kinds)

Harry's Medical Examination form (which sometimes is done after the interview)

Form DS-260 is the big one. It basically asks the immigrant (Harry, in this case) about everything in his life: his childhood, his work history, his social media accounts, where he's lived, his family of origin, his children, previous travel to the US, medical and health details (including history of substance abuse. communicable diseases, and vaccination record), criminal history, security and background details, and social security.

If you're found to have lied about anything on this form - for instance, something pops on the background check that isn't disclosed or your answers in the interview are inconsistent with what's reported on the form or your social media tells a totally different story - it's grounds for your application to be denied and, if you're already here in the US, you to be deported.

This is what the DHS/Homeland Security lawsuit is about. The DS-260 has a question about drug use. The Heritage Foundation (the plaintiff in the case) is suing DHS to find out what Harry reported about his drug use on the form and in his medical history because historically, the US does not allow people with drug addictions or past drug use into the country. After Harry's admissions in Spare that he's basically a functioning addict, the Heritage Foundation assumed that Harry said "no" on the drug use question (which would be a lie) and they want to find out if he was given special treatment because of being Queen Elizabeth's grandson. (I also suspect the Heritage Foundation wants to find out if Harry has a regular passport or is traveling/living in the US on a diplomatic passport as well.)

So going back to your original question, yes, Harry can still be deported even if he is the spouse of a US citizen and even if he is a permanent resident. All the marriage to a US citizen means is what forms get filled out and what supporting documentation is submitted. That's all; there aren't any other protections involved in being married to a US citizen.

But there is a benefit to immigrating via a "green card marriage" - if you come to the US on any other kind of visa, the requirements are much stricter and the waiting period for eligibility can sometimes take much longer. Particularly on the latter, the US actually has requirements on how many people per country can immigrate/travel in a given a year, even if you're sponsored by a business or a friend or a family member (eg a brother or uncle). So some people end up waiting years to move to the US; that's just the demand on the system. But with a "green card marriage," you get to jump most of the queues and your waiting period for eligibility disappears in an instant. You can literally begin your application to move to the US the day you get engaged to a US citizen or the day you get married.

But you still have to go through all the hoops and fill out all the paperwork anyway. No way around that. No matter who your grandmother is.

Now for the part that makes all of this even more complicated: COVID.

A lot of rules government-wide were relaxed because of the COVID national emergency. One of the areas in which a lot of rules, standards, and regulations were relaxed is immigration, which caused an enormous backlog of paperwork and cases. Why? Because we're the goverment, y'all, and we move at slower-than-glacial-pace. In March 2020, we still processed a million things by hand on actual physical paper. (Remember, I'm a fed. I've got horror stories for days about this.) So part of the issue with everyone going home is that the paperwork didn't come home with us. It just kept stacking up and stacking up and stacking up in the office because we were still using paper systems and there hadn't been enough time to automate processes or digitize systems when we were ordered to work from home on March 16th. (Particularly in the DC area, talks/plans to send us all home started literally the week before, on March 9th. That was zero time to do anything but scale up the VPN and give everyone a laptop so whole entire agencies can work from home - because remember, before March 2020, it wasn't a thing for us in government to work from home.) So in June/July 2020 when the local stay-at-home orders were finally lifted, we all went back to the office to huge backlogs of paperwork and casework. Backlogs that were still growing by the day, and backlogs that needed to be handled quickly. As a result, there were a lot of decisions made to just "rubber-stamp" everything as quickly as possible. In DHS/USCIS, that meant citizenship and visa applications weren't as closely reviewed as they may have been in the past because the bosses were telling us "just get it done" because the Trump Administration was breathing down everyone's necks to deliver results that they could use in his re-election campaign.

So there's speculation now that Harry's visa/immigration application is one of those cases that got "rubber stamped" to get through the backlog. And part of that speculation is an attempt to understand when exactly did the visa paperwork get processed and whether there was undue special treatment in doing so. Was he part of the backlog that was grandfathered/rubber-stamped into the US? Or was his application processed before that?

Because if his application was processed before he moved here in March 2020, well, then the Sussexes aren't telling the truth about where they lived or what they were doing. Reason being that typically on a spousal visa, you usually can't already be living here in the US when you apply for it. You apply from your home country and come to the US only once your visa request has been granted.

So did the Sussexes apply for Harry's visa when they were living in Canada, starting the process as early as November 2019 when the BRF forced them into a vacation and panicking in February 2020 when COVID started closing borders? In that case, did the Sussexes apply diplomatic pressure to expedite DHS's review of Harry's case so they could be in the US before borders closed? Or did they say "screw it" and moved to the US without waiting for a decision and then applied diplomatic pressure to have Harry's case approved retroactively?

Or did the Sussexes apply for Harry's visa much earlier, when they were still living in the UK/working as full-time royals? And if that's the case, then did they really go to Canada like they said they did, or did they just hide out in the US for a bit so Harry could pick up his green card, and then they traveled to Vancouver/Canada for New Year's?

Or - perhaps the more tinhatty scenario - did the Sussexes apply for Harry's visa right after the marriage, at the earliest opportunity Meghan could've filed the paperwork? In which case, their secret honeymoon could really potentially have been a trip to the US so Harry could claim his green card.

Option 3 is incredibly farfetched. We know the Sussexes can't keep their stories straight so I feel like if that's what had actually happened, there would've been holes poked into their "fleeing to Canada" narrative already.

I probably lean towards Option 1 (they exploited COVID to move here) but Option 2 is pretty plausible too.

Anyway, that's a ton more than you/anon probably expected. (It's a whole lot more than I expected to write about too.) But hopefully this clears up some confusion about what exactly is happening with Harry's immigration status, why it's possible he can still be deported, and sheds a little light on the Homeland Security lawsuit.

Edit: added some clarification (see bolded part under the flowchart)

[doyoujustnotwantto]

mihane's 260 followers event★ ׂ  .  𓆩★𓆪 ׅ 

ty each one of u for being a part of this place🫶💞 u make it so much fun to be here and ily soooo much🎀 u make me feel better when I'm down <3 intro

 ࣪ ࣪⊹ 🛼 . . ݁  ࣪    ‧ ִ ۫✭ 🩰 . ° ࣪. .⊹ ۪ ࣪  ꒰ 🎨 . .  ‧₊˚🎸. ✩.  ₊˚🎬. ⊹♡・. ゜🧘‍♀️.  ♡ ฅ՞•ﻌ•՞ฅ  

fortnight🚀- I'll make u a playlist on spotify (u can request a theme) ⚠️my Spotify's having trouble sharing link so can't guarantee u this one

loml🖤 - I'll make a moodboard (request a theme pls)

Suburban legends💫- I'll make a to-do-list or a vision board for this summer (tell me what kind of activities u prefer or what u wanna try)

night changes 📸 - I'll host a party for u! I'm gonna make a moodboard of it (u can request a theme)

So American🦅 - a quote that reminds me of u

message in a bottle 🧚‍♀️ - I'll write a poem (u can request a theme or I'll write one for u)

pretty isn't pretty👾 - I'll design a room for u

astronomy👩‍🚀 - u can ask me any questions (I'll answer unless I'm uncomfortable)

⊹ 🪐 . . ݁  ࣪    ‧ ִ ۫✭ 👾 . ° ࣪. .⊹ ۪ ࣪  ꒰ 🍄 . .  ‧₊˚🖇️. ✩.  ₊˚🎧. ⊹♡・. ゜🫀.  ♡ ฅ՞•ﻌ•՞ฅ  

*I will try to reply asap, but I will be busy with school esp after spring break, so I apologize if it takes long. @cottoncandywhispers @mqstermindswift @mayalovestay13 @animallover4000 @dorothheaa @charlotte-is-a-swiftie @elliedafish @seals-are-cool @urbanflorals @percabeths-blue-cookies @wewouldgobackintime @skeelly @liesmultixxx @over-the-oceancall @frootielooties @slippedawayintoamomentintime @bucklebunny13 @the0nlyallison @a-beautiful-fool @daydream-of-a-wallflower @weeping-in-the-willows @chiara-swiftiedreamer13 @shuhuaspookie and ily everyone💐

[damn-stark]

Chapter 42 IFHY

Chapter 42 of Sugar

A/N- This mc is one of the most human mcs I’ve written in my opinion and I will miss writing her and her technique so much when this series comes to an end!

Warning- Swearing, ANGST!!!, talks of death, VIOLENCE, SPOILERS!!!!

Pairing- Choso x Gojo!fem-reader, Suguru Geto x Gojo!fem-reader

Episode and or chapters- Chapter 260-261

(Let me know if you want to be tagged)

————

There he is, in all his glory. Standing right across from you. The brother you thought you lost…your hope revived, your joy, and your cure to your solace.

How is it possible that he’s alive after being sliced in half?

Then again, he is Satoru Gojo and Shoko probably had something to do with it too.

Not that it matters now, he’s alive just as you thought you lost everything.

“Satoru,” you whisper breathlessly and step forward with a wobbly growing smile.

Said man draws out a deep breath and stays quiet. He stays where he is and doesn’t greet you with something smug. Which is odd, but considering he was dead his lack of witty comments is not concerning.

However, as you get closer to him he shuffles back and finally begins to lift his head. You watch his face the entire time and notice a rather unusual displeased frown. You want to comment on it and assure him that it’s all fine, but you then notice something trailing on his forehead, something particular that you’ve only seen on one other person.

But it can’t be…

Yet it’s believable. He survived so long for a reason—But it can’t be Kenjaku can it? It can’t be him taking over your brother's body, you killed him with your own hands. It can’t…

But it is.

“No,” you mumble in horror and come to an immediate halt. “No,” you repeat with a flicker of change in your tone.

The man pretending to be your brother doesn’t show smugness, not like when he pretended to be Suguru, he seems rather uncomfortable and still displeased.

“No,” you cry out and step back, making the pretender step forward with his arms out.

“It’s not Kenjaku,” he says in his voice, in that soft yet deep and stupid smug voice Satoru had.

“It’s,” he pauses and glances over at Shoko, but you don’t follow his line of gaze, your eyes stay glued on him as you prepare an attack.

“It’s Yuta…Okkotsu…” he trails off, and you only become more horrified. Perhaps even more so than when you thought it was Kenjaku in that split second because it can’t be the same boy that killed Suguru, it can’t be him who took your brother too, who is using him the same way Kenjaku used Suguru.

It can’t be the boy who Satoru saved from a death sentence. It can't be the boy Miguel vouched for or the boy you forgave. It can’t be him…

“I wish I could explain,” he keeps talking in a stolen voice he somehow manipulated to sound like his own awkward one. “I wish you didn’t have to find out this way. I’m sorry.”

He’s sorry? Sorry?

And that’s all he has to say to explain this madness, this…robbery. A crime, a betrayal of the highest offense before he just waltzs off without even meeting your eye?

Why? Why? Why? Why?

You keep asking yourself why him once again. You look to Shoko for the answer, but her attention is on Choso’s body getting picked up by the people helping her, so she misses your cry for help, therefore missing the window she had to talk you down and try and comfort you.

Choso wouldn’t have missed that window, he would’ve clocked your growing anger, and your soul shattering even more at the knowledge that Okkotsu is using your brother's body as if he were some weapon to be picked up and used at his convenience.

Choso would’ve been surprised too at the sight of those stitches but when everything was explained he would’ve heard your silent cry for help, he would’ve stopped your grief from twisting to rage. But he’s not here, and Shoko didn’t catch that window, Kirara was beside you, but they couldn’t read you so deeply, so that grief so obviously painted on every perimeter of your face and body, and every inch of your soul gets tainted by this display of monstrosity and betrayal that only you saw because he had already taken the man you loved last year.

Yuta Okkotsu is the reason Suguru Geto is dead. And now he’s taken your beloved brother only a year later, and all he has to say is sorry…but he didn’t even meet your eyes either, he stood stiffly in that same spot before walking away as if nothing was wrong.

Why is no one reacting? Why is no one as livid as you?

Why? Why? Why?!

You…should've killed him a long time ago. Why did you ever forgive Okkotsu? Why is he using your brother's body the same way Kenjaku used Suguru? Why is this happening again?

Why?!

Why is he getting away? You can’t let him get away, you can’t let him take someone else you love. Satoru was your brother and if no one else will do anything about it, you will.

You will!

So with nothing else in your mind but livid anger, you slowly turn with your hand curling into a fist. You summon fire to start this attack, but as you try to bask your fist with your reliable flames all you get is a spark which has never happened before—well not since you first started training…

Yet, you don’t think too deeply about your complications, instead, you act quickly and dig in your pocket. Your Worm cursed spirit balled up inside doesn’t fail to hand you the blade you wanted, a blade that Shoko doesn’t see since she's lost in her own thoughts, and Kirara doesn’t get to notice because your back is turned, leaving you an opening, letting you dig your heels on the ground before you charge at Okkotsu from behind.

The pretender doesn’t expect you to charge at him so he doesn’t watch his back. He doesn’t even hear you coming right away. Everything is happening fast to everyone else, but for you time moves slowly.

You have time to clench your jaw and twist your face into a wicked sneer. You have time to get near him before you blurt out a broken cry from so deep inside your chest that it hurts your lungs and brings streams of tears to your eyes.

And in your unexpected fit of rage, you actually manage to swing your blade and slash the pretenders back before he spins around and jumps back to dodge your next swing.

“I’m gonna kill you,” you snap at Okkotsu and this time you pretend to swing your blade. Okkotsu swings to the other side to miss being cut, but he steps right into your line of fire so you manage to swing your fist and land a hard jab across his face.

Shoko shouts your name and tells you to stop, but you kick your leg and hurl the pretender back.

“I won’t,” Okkotsu mutters with new blood trickling down his nose and his busted lip. “I won't fight you out of respect for him. He loved you.”

He…loved…you, but now he’s gone too…

And Okkotsu has the audacity to say that so casually while being in his body.

“I hate you,” you snarl and lunge at him again, this time you manage to throw your arms around his waist and tackle him to the ground.

Kirara tries to stop you, but you grab onto the pretender's shoulders and roll your bodies out of reach, and quickly try to make quick work of him before you’re eventually stopped. Even if he doesn’t try to stop you, you slam your fists across his face again and again until he’s bleeding from one eye, and his nose is crooked.

You pull your arm back to swing again, but as Okkotsu watches you with your brother's bright blue eyes that had been so unique, you suddenly halt in your attack and meet his gaze with a sense of guilt.

You see your brother, the only brother you had. The brother who would let you sneak into his bed when you were little kids because you were terrified. You see Satoru Gojo, your daughter's Uncle, your best friend, and the brother who loved you regardless of all you did. You see him and you have the sudden need to stop this foolishness.

But…that ever so heavy grief stabs you in the heart as a flash of him smiling at you like everything was great in the world passes through your mind, and you can’t help but grow rabid almost as if it had been a switch.

“You motherfucker!” You bellow at him as you pick up your blade from the ground and swing up. “You’re going to fucking die!” You cry out of agony and rage and don’t hesitate a moment longer before swinging down.

Satoru once hesitated last year when you fought. He had you pinned and he was going to make a finishing move, but he hesitated. You don’t. You bring the blade down.

Albeit just as the tip nears the pretender’s forehead, a force manages to grab your wrists, stopping you just in time.

“Stop,” you recognize that deep voice.

“Yuta!” You hear a young woman yell.

“Stop it,” the voice beside you whispers sharply.

Choso?

You look over and expect your husband, but you actually see Miguel.

“He has a job to do,” he tries to get it through your head so you’d cooperate, but betrayal blares throughout your head.

“You knew?” You ask, almost frightened.

Miguel scoffs. “No, of course not. I pieced it together just now and even I know you can’t kill him.”

You look back down at Okkotsu in your brother's body and shake your head. “But he’s my brother.” You whisper heartbrokenly.

“And what Okkotsu has to do is much more important than that, don’t you see it? This is not like Kenjaku and Suguru. Focus.”

Strong heart Choso would say.

But you can’t. Not when he’s gone too.

However, Maki walks over and pulls the pretender out from under you so you won't snap again and actually finish the job this time.

“Go,” you hear her tell him. “Who knows how much time you have left now.”

“But…” your whisper quivers, “he’s my brother.”

“Yes, he was,” Miguel corrects you between trying to sound comforting yet affirmative.

Not like it actually eases anything. You don’t continue on your rampage, you just sit there brokenheartedly and watch Okkotsu take away your brother's body with him into the disaster Sukuna made with nothing but his raw power.

It almost feels like your brother is leaving you behind all over again. You’re watching him walk away and it feels like that day 11 years ago when he left you behind. You feel that same ache. You know it’s not the same, not at all, but in the back of your mind it feels like the same thing.

“Get up,” Miguel says a lot kinder than before as he takes the blade away and pulls you to your feet, which would make this the second time someone has helped you up as if you were some wounded animal. You really hate it, it makes you feel so weak, but you also can’t help it, you can’t muster that much strength, not anymore.

“We could both use some rest now,” you hear someone else interject, and when you look over you notice Larue. He’s wounded but alive.

“You’re okay,” you point out with a sense of relief.

Larue narrows his eyes and his eyebrows slowly knit together before he releases a disbelieved gasp.

“Bring her with me,” Shoko interrupts before you can press Larue for an answer about his sudden confusion and then ask if what you asked for worked.

When you look over at Shoko, however, that anger returns. It’s not violent like the anger you had for Okkotsu. it’s livid yes, and blinding too, but filled with nothing else but betrayal.

She doesn’t see it though, she doesn’t hear it in your voice or in the way your body stiffens and stays in place rather than trailing after her.

“Get Choso’s body,” you tell Miguel, who doesn’t fret to follow after the man carrying your husband's body, causing Shoko to stop in her tracks and turn around to face you. However, the moment she does turn you avert her gaze and watch Miguel gently take Choso from the hand of strangers.

“Will we finally leave, I admit perhaps I made a grave mistake by coming,” Larue interjects with exhaustion weighing his voice down.

“Almost,” you assure him, making Shoko probe.

“What do you mean?”

You ignore her and begin to turn, but she strides over in a hurry and grabs your arm to stop you and turn you around to grab your chin and pick your head up, and look into your eyes.

You don’t understand what she’s doing nor do you care to, so you quickly pull yourself away and step back with your face twisting in anger. Shoko doesn’t understand your sudden precaution, she actually finds it hurtful as well as worrying that you were so quick to pull away though.

“Are you okay?” She checks on you, but you let her words be carried away. You have things to say, but you can’t or want to entertain her any longer. It’s petty, you know, you tend to just give people the cold shoulder when they’ve deeply wounded you, but you just can’t help it, or be the better person, your words just get stuck in your heart. And since you no longer feel like you have such a thing, the words fall into the abyss, leaving you silent and angry.

Shoko is quick to grasp what’s happening, she doesn’t know why, but she’s starting to pick up on your silent treatment and that anger embedded in your deep and long frown, as well as your fisted hands. Thus she calls out for you loudly and demandingly.

And this time you react by slowly lifting your head and meeting her worried and puzzled gaze, letting her see once and for all what she suspected in full glory, the eyes of the woman you used to be, the eyes that Satoru claimed were where he found his home. They aren’t infused with flames, not anymore, they’re the eyes you were born with, the eyes Shoko met for the first time when you started school. Only now your eyes are a strangers for a third time.

Albeit this time she won’t let you be estranged.

“I’m sorry,” Shoko finally says out loud as she starts to grasp what’s going on with you. “It hurts, I know, but you can’t walk away. I won’t let you walk away, not again.”

Her words sting. They feel like getting stabbed and or being robbed of breath. But it doesn't stop those words that you had lost find their way back.

“What do you know about my hurt?” You snap back with your eyes narrowing and your brows pinching together. “What do you know about anything I feel? Did you even try to stop them? He was your best friend.”

Shoko’s breath catches but she doesn’t falter, even if her watery eyes say otherwise. “Humanity relies on certain sacrifices. He knew that…Satoru knew that…”

You gasp as if his name coming out of her mouth physically hurt you.

“…that’s why he let it happen.”

You swallow thickly and understand what she says, it sounds like something he would do, but you can’t accept it. Not because you don’t want to believe it, but because you’re angry she didn’t stop him.

“He would do something stupid like that,” you feign a laugh and sniffle. “But that’s when you stop him. That’s when you fight him. Did you even try? Why didn’t you tell me?” You ask with a quivering voice.

Shoko steps forward and doesn’t hide to spare you. “Because he knew how you would react.”

You process her words and think about how considerate your brother was. He never failed to think about you.

Why did you realize that so late into your life?

“Because he knew I would stop him from doing something stupid,” you argue. “This was stupid. He never lived his life, he never actually thought about what he wanted, he always thought about everyone else. It’s why I would’ve stopped him because it’s stupid!”

“And what you’re doing now isn’t stupid?” Shoko quickly counters, making you clench your jaw and exhale deeply with frustration. “People still need you.”

“It’s not the same,” you defend your actions. “You know that, so don’t throw it at my face like it is.”

Shoko sighs deeply and takes another step closer to you, which doesn’t make you move back. You stay put and hold her tear-filled gaze.

“You should’ve stopped him,” you leave no room for her to interject. “You should’ve stopped them from using his body like some kind of tool the same way Suguru’s was. And you shouldn’t have lied to me about why you needed Kenjaku’s brain.”

“You would have understood?” She quickly spats.

You stay calm and shrug. “Kenjaku was Choso’s father, it was for him to decide, not me. And I’m sure he would’ve given it up if you asked. Instead, you lied about it and about Satoru.”

Shoko parts her lips to argue back, but she instead drops her gaze and swallows back nervously. “Okkotsu needed Suguru’s body too,” she throws out rapidly and shakily.

And now for you, it gets hard to breathe. You can’t breathe. Your chest is too heavy.

Suguru was yours. Yours and Satori’s. You just got him back from the clutches of some insane sorcerer. He could finally rest and she…they…

Breathe…

Breathe.

Breathe.

“I’m sorry,” is all Shoko says.

You still can’t breathe. It hurts too much.

Shoko sees that and grabs your shoulder to try and soothe your growing panic.

“Just—”

You cut her off by slapping her hand away and taking a big step back while you look at her as if she had just literally stabbed you in the back. You then point an accusing finger at her, but nothing comes out, you’re crippled with betrayal.

After a second of you and her just growing tension, a shaky breath finally makes it past your lips but words don’t follow. They’re lost for good this time. Shoko calls out to you in an attempt to hear from you, to continue this argument so she could try and mend what she could so you wouldn’t leave, but it’s too late and the wrong choices were made. Choices for the good of humanity perhaps, but you don’t see it that way in your agonizing grief.

You see blaring betrayal and your silence loudly displays it as well as the tears that crawl down your cheeks.

“Kirara,” you direct at the only person you can speak to, someone you don’t blame because they’re young, and they don’t carry that same history with Satoru or Suguru. Perhaps they accepted snatching Satoru’s body, but it’s not the same as Shoko accepting it. Not in your eyes.

“If you need help, call me, I won’t be far. I’ll be watching over Kinji from the broadcast,” you let them know as you step back.

“Where are you going?” They quickly blurt in confusion. “You can't go.”

You sigh and just hold their gaze. “I’ll be close to Yuji. Or as close as I can be.” You assure them and then spare one last glance at Shoko, catching tears rolling down her cheeks and a deep grief that mirrors yours. But you can’t look past your own pain to care. You just let your gaze linger as you ache for things to be different for the sake of your friendship and the love you bear for her, but you can’t…no matter how hard you try, you can’t look past her letting them use Satoru, and taking Suguru’s body from you.

Even if it isn’t her fault, or if it is, you don’t care. You just turn away and leave her behind the same way Suguru did, and the same way Satoru did.

You almost find yourself leaving it all behind and just giving up on everything, it’s what they deserve after dehumanizing Satoru the way they did. And you don’t care if it’s for the greater good, who cares if somehow you would have understood in a different life, you don’t care. Just like you don’t care about trying to understand Shoko. They took something from you, they hurt you, and you can’t look past it, you aren’t that big of a person because he was your brother, and no matter what happened he was always there. Now he won’t, now they’ve taken him, just like they took Suguru.

However, as much as you want to leave, as much as you hate humanity as a whole now, people you still care about are out fighting with their lives. They’re the only reason why you stay behind.

You won’t fight anymore, you’ll just look out for them away from Shoko, and from the depths of your solitude that drowns out the concept of time, the conversation Larue and Miguel hold, and the calamity of battle in the far distance.

Even surrounded by people that loneliness that you so feared still plagues you, how funny is that?

Nevertheless, you don’t break from your trance until Miguel taps your leg. He notices your lack of know-how and sighs before probing, “what did you do?”

There’s no need to ask what he's referring to because you know from the silence of the wind, the coldness that outran the heat that once ran through your veins as if it was blood, the unwelcoming earth that doesn’t eagerly speak to you, and the ignoring water that up and left you from ever feeling its delicate touch, that he’s referring to the binding vow that has yet to prove it worked.

Binding vows aren’t known to fail, but this binding vow is different, you’re exchanging powers for life. It’s different therefore there’s a high chance all you get is played.

“I can still see curses,” you don’t give Miguel the answers he seeks. “I’m not a non-sorcerer.”

“No, but you’re basically nothing now,” he hits you with the truth, something that Larue quickly rebuttals in your defense.

“She’s not nothing, you’re just being cruel—”

“I’m being honest,” Miguel cuts Larue off. “She’s useless in this fight now. What you did was stupid.”

You blink and try to look over at Choso, but you can’t bring yourself to look at him. You haven’t been able to look at him because if it doesn’t work all you gave up will be for nothing and you’ll end up just repaying for all the evil you’ve done.

“You don’t know what I did,” you retort and slide your eyes up to pierce your annoyed glare at him.

Miguel sighs and glances at the man you left behind you before looking back at you. “I have an idea,” he assumes right. “Giving everything you are for something that has never been done before is stupid. What will you do now?”

You drift your gaze to your hands and mutter. “Nothing. I won’t do anything. Even if I had my technique I wouldn't do anything because I don't care about them anymore. Humanity can die for all I care.”

Larue watches you with pity after knowing how much you deeply cared about the sorcerer side of humanity. He almost doesn’t recognize who you are, but just like Shoko, he knows this is you grieving. You’re at your worst and all the people who could’ve pulled you out of it are gone. You’re alone and he knows it’s drowning you.

Larue almost wants to try and comfort you even if he knows it’d be a useless endeavor, but Miguel pushes off his attempts.

“Why didn’t you ever do it for Suguru then, what you did now for this man?” Miguel asks.

You’ve thought about that too during your time on this roof, and the answer is simple, you had your brother so you weren’t writhing in your loneliness like you are now. You love them both the same way, you just…had…Satoru. Now you don’t.

“Satoru was here. The twins. Nanami. Now I don’t have anyone…” you trail off and fist your hands so hard your nails pierce a layer of skin. Yet it doesn’t hurt like you thought it would, no matter how hard you keep pressing, or if blood spills.

“You have us,” Larue breaks the silence and pulls your eyes away from the blood you spill. You offer him a smile but it’s far too short-lived.

“I’m going to kill Okkotsu,” you blurt with more emotion than you’ve shown over the past several minutes. “And neither of you are going to stop me.”

Both Miguel and Larue look at you with surprise, even if what you want is like you, the way you say it so bluntly and carrying so much pain catches them off guard for a moment until Miguel steps towards your sitting figure and argues back with frustration.

“You’ll doom humanity if you do…” he trails off and you don't care to follow up with what catches his breath, you don’t look at him right away either, but when you do you snap your eyes up and glare at him with a fuming anger that blinds you.

“I told you I don’t care about humanity,” you spat back and don’t get curious about what he and Larue are suddenly lost on. It isn’t until you hear your name being uttered by a familiar voice that your attention is fully captivated, and there in the barren cold relives a warmth you thought was forever lost.

However, you don’t look back right away, you’re too scared it’s your mind tricking you. After all, you've seen an illusion of Suguru before, and as beautiful as it was, it was only an illusion. You don’t want to be let down again. Thus you let him call out to you again to assure yourself that you heard that deep but gentle melody of his voice before you slowly turn with your eyes downcasted but widened and filled with tears.

A part of the spot you left him on was now empty and lacked a part of his body, and there’s no way a dead man could move by himself. But you still don’t face him because now you’re plagued with the thought of what if he’s somehow still dead and your vow was somehow twisted.

You can feel the shocked stares from Larue and Miguel, they fill the silence with disbelief and impatience for you to react, while…Choso…waits, but also finds himself trying to grasp how he’s back and how his heart is beating once again.

“Is it really you?” You have to ask for your own sake.

You hear shuffling before your breath catches at the sound of his voice. “I think. I’m not sure…one thing I do know is that I’m naked under this sheet.”

You muster a breathless laugh while fat tears run down your cheeks and the shattered heart inside you mends together.

“You…” you trail off and he fills your silence.

“Burnt….I remember. I remember it all. I remember you,” he pauses and sighs. You’re tempted to look but you still can’t.

“I’m sorry,” he brings up softly and filled with sorrow that makes your chest tighten. “I’m sorry. I did the one thing I said I wasn’t going to do. I’m sorry.”

You swallow back thickly and sigh deeply. “Then you understand why I can’t bring myself to go over to you, why I can’t look at you? I don’t want this to be a dream and be hurt all over again.”

“I understand,” he assures you right away before you hear him shifting against the roof in the distance.

“We’ll…be back,” Larue excuses himself and Miguel before they climb down, leaving you and Choso alone under the white sky, and occupying the silence with the sound of his unique footsteps approaching you.

“I would understand if you’re mad at me too,” he says and makes your heart ache in a good way because, of course, he would say something so sweet.

“…I really hurt you. And even if I was dying I hated myself for it because as good of a goodbye I had with Yuji, yours was agonizing,” he continues softly as he stops before you and gets on his knees that are covered by the sheet Larue had put over his body. “I’m sorry, my love. I didn’t want to leave you, I really didn’t. I meant what I told you, I just had no other choice and it proved to be worthwhile, you’re here!” He exclaims proudly as you see his large and pale hand reach over for yours clawing the ground.

“You’re alive, and…” he trails off for a long while. He even stops in his attempts to grab your hand, and honestly, his stillness tempts you to finally lay your eyes on his body, but you keep your eyes glued on the ground since your mind is still protecting you from potentially being disappointed.

“…you’re not hurt,” he mutters with a sense of disbelief that he doesn’t actually show because he focuses on comforting you. “My sacrifice worked. That’s all I wanted. I’m sorry it hurt you, I’m sorry I made you feel so distressed, but my love,” he coos and finally places his hand on yours, making you gasp at the shot of electricity that his fingers pass to yours.

It’s all so reallike, his hand feels so soft, and warm. It’s not an empty touch conjured by your heart's deepest desires, it’s heavy but gentle. Real.

“…I’m here,” he proclaims with a honey-dipped voice he’s using to comfort you. “I’m here because of you…I think.”

You scoff in amusement and then blink when he lifts your hand and presses it against his chest, over where you feel the rhythm of his heartbeat racing when your fingertips first make contact with his chest, but then when he presses your palm harder against his chest his heartbeat eases.

This time you can’t deny the instant connection you feel when your palm feels his heart and makes yours run at the calm pace his heart runs, almost as if connecting them once again was the comfort they needed.

“Choso,” you cry happily and focus just for a single second longer on his heart beating under his chest before you slowly trail your eyes up his body, finding it unchanged and still as toned and perfectly sculpted as it was before. However, when you reach his neck you notice a burn scar that wasn’t there before. And you would know, you traced his whole body multiple times in your short time intimately together.

The scar isn’t big from the front, it’s sprawled over as if the tips of the flames had been wrapped around his neck, but it’s because it’s only peeking forward that you know it’s hiding its true result on Choso’s back where the fire hurt him the most. And when you start seeing his face the mark of what happened continues to spread, but now that doesn’t catch your eye the same way his inviting pink lips do.

The mark that came with his technique isn’t there anymore, it’s completely gone from his nose, meaning that he is probably just like you now, but you don’t focus on that matter now, or the fact that a thin line of fire now replaced the blood mark on his nose. You instead put all your attention on those beautiful eyes that were unchanged.

His eyes are still so sweet and the same rich brown that you loved, and that were uncoincidentally the same shade of brown as your favorite color.

You notice the guilt he carries, the disbelief that runs behind them, as well as the softness painted by his love for you, but what you fixate on the most is that lively gleam in his eyes that had left his eyes when he died. That gleam is back and brighter than before.

“Choso,” you muse and slide your hand over to grab his hand whilst you reach your other hand over to feel his face and set it in your mind that the flesh you feel is real, it’s not a trick, he’s real, he’s back, and the binding vow you made worked!

He’s back!

“Choso,” you laugh and cry at the same time but don’t throw yourself on him. You continue to move your hand up until you reach his head that’s missing his hair but doesn’t take away from how handsome he still is. Some men can’t pull off a bald head but he makes it look hot.

“I’m sorry,” he means his apology as he watches your eyes study his head.

“Don’t worry,” you assure him. “It’ll grow back. It’s just hair, all I care about is you. You’re back.”

Choso nods his head as a smile spreads on his lips. “I am,” he reassures your worry before he brings his hand up to cup your jaw and look into your eyes, trapping the next words you were about to utter in your throat as you remember the change you went through too.

“The eyes you met in the darkness last year won’t ever return, I’m sorry,” you tell him the truth right away just in case that somehow kills the love he has for you. “I…gave up my technique and yours in order to have you back...I’m sorry Choso. I’m sorry.”

Said man sighs deeply and drops his gaze to ponder and nod softly.

“You are a non-sorcerer, I’m sorry,” you break it to him pitifully only because now he can’t use his technique to protect his brother, or feel the twins.

“Choso?” You press impatiently. “I understand why you’d be mad, and why you wouldn’t love me.”

At the sound of those words his eyes fly up to meet your perplexed gaze and he shakes his head before he leans in. “No,” he whispers and cups your face with both hands to gently caress your cheeks as he looks deep into your eyes.

“The day I saw you and your fire-kissed eyes for the first time is something I won’t ever forget, and it’s a change that I will have to get used to, but sweetheart, just know that as I look at you all I see is my sun, my moon, my stars, and my beloved. You.”

You beam at him and can’t hold back anymore, you throw your arms around him and pull him for a tight embrace to make sure you can feel his heart beating against your chest as you hold him.

“I love you too,” you finally tell him what you didn’t have the chance to say when he was sacrificing himself in that fire. Words that don’t actually hold the true meaning of how deeply and passionately you love him.

“I love you,” you whisper again and sob into the crook of his neck. All while Choso holds onto you as if breathing and his life depended on it, as if he would somehow lose you if he let you go.

“I love you too,” he redirects sweetly before he finally assures you about your previous worry. “And…I’m not angry, I'm nothing more than ordinary now. I’m human now. Truly human because of you, and I will miss my technique because it made me strong, but…I can be human with you, my children, and my brother. So thank you.”

You pull back and look at him with a bright and awestruck smile. “You were human to me before, now you’re just a little bit more fragile.”

Choso chuckles softly and nods before his face falls. “Do you still love me as I am now? I know your feelings towards non-sorcerers.”

“Don’t worry,” you assure him as you caress his cheek. “I love you as you are. I don’t care if you're a non-sorcerer and not holding as much power. All that matters is that you’re alive again. That’s the deal I made and my feelings won’t change. Not negatively anyway.” You smile at him.

Choso sighs with relief and just as he’s going to share something you interject coldly. “Besides, I don't care about the sorcerers or non-sources. Not anymore.”

Choso blinks repeatedly in disbelief, and you clench your jaw out of anger while your eyes scream your grief.

“Why?” He asks as he feels thrown off by this sudden change. “You don’t really feel like that do you?”

You clench your fists and scowl as the memory of Okkotsu announcing his identity inside your brother's body plays in your mind and reminds you why your ideals changed so drastically.

“They took the reason why I gave up. They’re using my brother's body like they used Suguru’s. They’re using him and now…” you swallow thickly and huff. “I see Okkotsu in his body and all I hear is the clapping I heard when Riko died. All those people clapped their hands over the death of a little girl…and now that’s all I hear and I can’t care anymore.”

Choso feels a weight over his chest as he hears the cold way you speak. He partially blames himself for the way you think now, even if you just explained the reason why you hate the world, he still finds it in himself to put on some blame because you watched him give up his life to save yours. So even if he was going to help you already, he does it now with more passion.

“No, no, I know that’s not really true. You’re just grieving,” he tries to calm down your anger. “It’s happening again and you’re just using anger to express your grief.”

The creases between your eyebrows crease deeper as your eyebrows pinch further with your heightening anger.

“But whatever they’re doing, they’re doing for the greater good, he would understand that. He would want that.”

“He would want to live and do it himself,” you argue back sharply. “He wouldn't want to get used. He fought the higher-ups for that reason. He wanted to change sorcerer society for that reason!” You exclaim your frustration as you get up and turn to try and breathe as it gets hard to do.

Choso follows you up but doesn't grab you yet, he lets you catch your breath first.

“I would be angry too,” he tries to form some connection since he has brothers too. “I would cry, but then I would think about what they would want. And we as siblings have a better understanding of what they want, don’t you think? Because we have that connection no one else could feel?”

You nod. “That’s why I know he’d want to live…” you trail off and he finally approaches you and grabs your shoulder, making you find your breath and ease some tension off your shoulders.

“You really think that? You don’t think he’d let his students do anything possible so you could all win? Even if not for them then for you and Satori?” Choso pulls right at your heartstrings, causing you to break and sob because in the back of your mind you know that’s all he’d want.

“But,” you try to argue in your brother's defense. “Why did they have to use him like that? Why didn’t he tell me?” You ask softly and then face him.

“Because it wasn’t easy for him either I’m guessing…” Choso coos and gently cradles your face to wipe away your cheeks. “Because he knew if he told you, you’d fight back and it would just make it harder,” he shares because as an older brother that’s what he’d feel.

“I’d fight to keep him alive because that’s what he deserves,” you argue back but that anger you held onto moments ago is faltering. “Because…I wouldn’t want him to leave me alone.”

Choso sighs. “I know, but now you have to support the decisions he made. He’d trust you to do that, right?”

You nod softly even if you don’t want to accept it and the agony in you takes over the next words that come out. “But he promised…he promised to protect me and be with me.”

“He always will,” Choso assures your crying heart. “For as long you live, but now he’ll be closer to you. That’s why you need to have a strong heart, hm?”

And with those beautiful and soft words, the fight you were so stubborn to have falls completely and all that’s left is a grieving woman that’s left small and broken, and that only Choso could comfort.

“Strong heart,” he whispers and places his hand over your heart.

You gently cup his hand and keep it pressed on your chest as you fall to your knees and let yourself cry over the loss of your older brother, Satoru.

“Strong heart,” Choso’s words echo as he falls on his knees with you to be close and comfort you in the way he knew how. In an intimate way that gives you strength to keep fighting no matter how much you lost already because you both know that the fight for life and survival of humanity is not over yet.

At least not for the ones still standing, but for Choso and you without the strength of your techniques, it is…

——

*A COUPLE MONTHS LATER*

A peaceful silence fills the night and you and Choso take advantage of it to find peace and time to relax after being caught up in such a hectic but blissful day.

You find time for your passion that still burns hot after having twins and losing so much, but neither of you struggle to sleep when you can. Not anymore. Those sleepless nights where you admired the serene sky are gone, but, and this is important, the reason why you find sleep so easily wakes you both up with their crying that rings loudly throughout your house.

“It’s okay,” Choso whispers hoarsely. “I’ll go, it’s just Tsukuyomi crying.”

You wipe your eyes and squint nonetheless to look at him through the darkness of the room. “Are you sure?” You probe. “I don’t mind.”

Choso hums and caresses the back of your head so you’d get lulled back to sleep. “Yeah, I’ll go. Go back to sleep.”

You hesitate but your exhaustion wins this fight so you drop your head back on your pillow, letting Choso walk into the twin's room and find his baby boy wailing while his twin sister sleeps throughout it on the cradle beside his.

“Tsu,” Choso coos as he turns a lamp on so the baby can see that he doesn’t need to cry anymore because his father heard his cry.

“What's wrong, hm?” Choso asks as if the three-month-old baby would answer him—well in some ways he does because those sharp cries turn to whimpers the moment Choso picks him up.

“I know you’re not hungry,” he speaks softly but clearly to his baby because he read that’s what’s good for them to hear—“your mother just fed you before bed. And you don’t smell like your diaper is full either.”

The baby boy blinks repeatedly and watches his father with a trembling lip. He continues to breathe heavily, leaving Choso confused about how to comfort him. He knows it doesn’t take much, but he can’t find a way to comfort him, not the way you can.

You were so loving right away—not that he wasn’t, he cried when he saw the twins for the first time, and that need to protect them only heightened when he held them both for the first time. He would die for them, he’d kill for them too if the need arose. It’s just…he doesn’t feel that connection to them.

He doesn’t know why. He aches to feel it, to know right away what it is they need in the same way you know without as much as double thinking, but he’s struggled and it’s killing him.

He thought that he would feel that instant bond with his son at least because all he had was brothers after all, but that failed to manifest with his son.

They also have your eyes and he loves to get lost in them. They share your unique white hair too, he’s failed to hold onto that bond he now aches for. So maybe having you tend to baby Tsukuyomi would be the best thing, you would know how to put him back to sleep. He can’t if it doesn’t involve a bottle of warm milk.

“Why don’t we get your mother,” he tells the baby boy. “Hm?” He hums and doesn’t wait for a response now before turning off the light.

However, the moment the room is dark Tsukuyomi jumps and begins to cry, making Choso quickly turn the light back on so the cries won’t wake Suki up and lead him to more trouble.

“It’s all right,” Choso soothes the baby boy heaving and pouting. “You’re all right.”

Choso wipes away the little tears rolling down his round cheeks before he starts gently rocking him. “See I’m here. Did you have a nightmare?”

Tsukuyomi lets out a shaky breath and Choso now gently caresses his head in the same way he caresses your scalp when you’re cuddling in bed, and that seems to comfort baby Tsukuyomi the same way it calms you down.

“Yeah,” Choso laughs softly. “Your mother likes that too.” He smiles gently and confesses to his son. “Your mother has nightmares too. I’m sure she’ll tell you why she does when you’re older, but as for now, when she has them I caress her head too.”

Tsukuyomi blinks and his pupils dilate while his lips suddenly lift to a gentle smile. Choso can't help but smile proudly over that simple but beautiful gesture before he’s caught by surprise by Tsukuyomi stretching out his chubby arms and grabbing his face.

“Oh,” Choso gasps and holds his son's gaze, while Tsukuyomi coos and smiles brighter as if admiring his father.

Choso’s breath catches and Tsukuyomi refuses to let him go just yet and insists on keeping him close. In that moment sparking that forever bond Choso was aching for.

“You’re one of the best things that’s happened to me,” Choso tells his son with tears running down his cheeks. “You, your mother, your sisters, and your uncle Yuji. I’m grateful every day to your mother for gifting me a chance to be in your life. I love you Tsukuyomi.”

The baby boy drops his arms and wipes his eyes before snuggling his head against Choso’s chest and yawning, leading Choso to rock him back to sleep once and for all.

However, instead of returning him to his crib he picks up baby Suki too and lays the twins on your bed instead to keep them closer, at least for tonight.

“I hope you don’t mind them sleeping with us tonight,” Choso whispers to you, who's only half awake.

“No,” you tell him breathlessly and drag yourself over to connect yourself back to his warmth.

Choso holds you close so you can fall back asleep but as he watches his twins sleeping peacefully he smiles and whispers in your ear. “I want another baby.”

You manage to chuckle and pat his back. “Okay, lover boy let’s first watch these babies grow past two years old, and then we’ll talk. I’m not sure you’ll want more when they’re two.”

Choso’s shoulders shake as he laughs before he contradicts you. “I told you I wanted 10.”

You pull your head back and scoff in amusement. “When you can birth a child then you can ask for ten, as for now let’s stick to our plan, hm? I want more cute babies with you too, but let’s get these babies past two first.”

Choso offers you a comprehensive smile before pressing a reassuring kiss on your forehead and then pressing your head back on his chest. “We can still practice though, right?”

You grin against his chest and nod. “Oh definitely.”

He smiles proudly and returns his gaze to his sleeping twins, finding happy tears return to his eyes, as well as a deep sense of gratitude he can’t hold in. “Thank you,” he shares.

You open your eyes and probe. “For what?”

Choso presses a kiss on the top of your head and responds endearly. “For giving me a second chance at great cost to what you loved.”

You sigh gently and close your eyes before you remind him what you told him several months ago. “I told you I would die for you. It might’ve not been literally at the end but I did mean it and I will never regret it because you are the love of my life. I love you.”

Choso sighs softly and whispers, “I love you too, my love.”

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A/N- Two more chapters of domestic Choso and Mc? Also, let’s pretend gege gave them a somewhat good ending to that fight. Yes? Yes!

Tagged- @deniseabad1928 @secondary-character-25 @starlightanyaaa @notsaelty @d4rno @moonnime @kodzukein @yozora7154 @heijihattorisgf @elegantweirdorchest @natakina

[your-resident-boat-person]

Hi! I saw your post about your top ocean liners! If you're still answering questions, what do you know about the Adriatic? Feel free to include another ship as I'm trying to learn more about ocean liners!

So, the Adriatic occupies a strange position in the Ocean Liner community. If you were to ask someone which of the Olympic class was their favorite, you'd get various answers, including the Britannic. However, very few people would say they picked Britannic because "she's the best version of the Olympic class". Most people would discuss her building, or her World War 1 service. Meanwhile, most people who I have spoken to about the Big 4 prefer the Adriatic because "she's the best version of the big 4". And, I mean, they're right, but its strange. She's the largest, the fastest, and the most luxurious. She was the first ocean liner to feature a swimming pool and Turkish bath, and all of her accommodations were generally a significant upgrade from her predecessors. But it's strange to me how THAT is the reason everyone prefers her. I mean, it's why I prefer her. She's the ultimate ship of the Big 4. But like I said earlier, very few people who prefer Britannic over Olympic and Titanic hold that opinion because she was (planned to be) more luxurious.

Anyway, here are some cool facts for you.

1. The Big 4 was almost the Big 5.

After Titanic sank, White Star apparently put in an order with Harland and Wolff for "A new Adriatic class ship". This is VERY strange considering the Big 4 had since been superceded by the Olympic class. As far as I know, no company EVER ordered a new ship from a previous generation like this, other than this instance. The ship was to be named RMS Germanic, after the SS Germanic of 1874, from the Britannic class. She presumably would have followed and improved upon Adriatics design, just as the Adriatic improved on the design of her predecessors. RMS Germanic had her keel laid down right around when World War 1 started, but the war delayed her construction, and she was eventually canceled.

2. The name

Like the Germanic, The RMS Adriatic was named after another White Star ship, the SS Adriatic of 1871. The SS Adriatic was the 5th ship in the Oceanic class, White Star's first class of ships. Like the RMS Adriatic, the SS Adriatic was an enhanced version of her predecessors. However, the SS Adriatic was later improved upon by the SS Celtic. The RMS Celtic of the Big 4 was named after this ship.

3. The Specs

The third ship of the Big 4, the RMS Baltic (named after the SS Baltic from 1871, also from the Oceanic class) was significantly larger than the previous two ships. However, Harland and Wolff left her engines unmodified. This meant that she was slightly slower than her predecessors. The Adriatic was even larger than the Baltic, but Harland and Wolff made her engines significantly more powerful. This meant that the largest of the Big 4 was also the most powerful, and the fastest. Her fastest crossing time was 7 days and 6 minutes. Also, her top speed was around 17 knots.

4. Coal consumption.

The Lusitania and Mauretania were the fastest ships in the world. From 1907 to 1929, their speed was unrivaled. The Mauretania specifically held the record for 19 uninterrupted years, and even beat her own record once. This, however, came at a cost. The Lusitania and Mauretania consumed 1,000 tons of coal PER DAY. The Olympic, only a few knots slower, only consumed 650 tons per day, despite being nearly 10,000 GRT larger than both of them. I actually discussed this in more detail in a previous post. Anyway, the Adriatic, by comparison, only consumed 260 tons per day. Now, she was nearly 10 knots slower than the Mauretania, but you can see how much more economical it made her by comparison. Because this was before late stage capitalism, these savings were passed on to the consumers. Tickets for the Adriatic (and by extension, the rest of the Big 4) were SIGNIFICANTLY CHEAPER than other competing ships, even the Olympic, and the RMS Oceanic, the predecessor to the Big 4. Also, after the first World War, most Ocean Liners like Olympic and Mauretania were converted to burn Oil instead of coal. This had several advantages.

1) Oil made the refueling process several magnitudes easier and shorter.

2) Burning Oil instead of Coal made the ship marginally faster (the Olympic was 1/10th of a knot faster after the conversion).

3) Burning Oil made the ship produce much less smoke, increasing the air quality in EVERY PORT THESE SHIPS WENT TO.

4) Because fluid takes the shape of its container, you were able to store MUCH more of it, greatly extending the ships range.

However, an unintended consequence of this was the Stokers. Generally, a ship like the Olympic had 350 men stoking the boilers with coal. After being converted to Oil, this number dropped to 50 or 60. Also, because Coal and Oil boilers were so different, coal stokers would need to be completely reeducated to work on these new ships (contrary to popular belief, stokers were considered skilled labor at the time, and required very specific and specialized knowledge and training. It wasn't just a matter of finding a strong guy and handing him a shovel.) As a show of good faith to their employees, White Star didn't convert any of the ships of the Big 4 to burn oil, to help ensure that the coal stokers could maintain employment. This was especially appreciated once the Great Depression hit in 1929.

🌟~B-B-B-BONUS FACT~🌈

The RMS Adriatic was launched on the same day as Cunard's RMS Mauretania. Because of this, as well as the fact that the RMS Lusitania was launched earlier, the Adriatic was the only member of the Big 4 to not hold the title of "largest ship in the world".

⚓️🛟🚢 - BONUS B O N U S FACT - 🚢🛟⚓️

The longest trip the RMS Adriatic did was her voyage to be scrapped in Osaka Japan.

Now that I've infodumped all over your dash, here's a disclaimer:

90% of this was from memory. I occasionally checked some sources for specific numbers like speed and coal consumption, but otherwise this was all stuff I just knew off hand. Before you use ANY of this information ANYWHERE, I'd reccomend fact checking it to make sure I didn't get anything wrong.

If you have any other questions, feel free to reach out and ask! This is my favorite thing in the world.

[galaxynajma]

can you explain that character to me :3

OMG ANON sorry for the super late reply

Originally when I got this ask I was planning on talking about Kaiser ( since he’s the character I’m most insane about) but more specifically some ideas for his backstory

But then the leaks for chapter 260 came out that actually had his backstory in it

So I was super distracted with that and forgot about this

But then the leaks for chapter 261 came out and now that we almost have all the pieces I think it’s time I answer this :)

Kaiser Kaiser Kaiser … where do I even begin

Since chapter 260 and 261 it makes understanding Kaiser so much easier

I already touched on how Kaiser feels about physical touch here and here but what about emotional intimacy?

Well Kaiser definitely does not take kindness well

It’s a foreign concept to him

Which makes sense since Kaiser has never felt the warmth of love from anyone before

His mother was said to have left him shortly after his birth and we all seen the way his father was acting

And it’s obvious Ray Dark didn’t really try to act much

Kaiser jumped straight into the idea of manipulating someone to be his teammate instead of you know .. being kind to people

Now here comes the hard question. Does Kaiser actually care for Ness

I think yes . In Kaiser’s very own way deep down he does

Did Kaiser’s and Ness’s relationship start out fake? Definitely but I think over time Kaiser grew fond of Ness

Unless Kaiser is a great actor like his mom i doubt that he can fake a genuine smile like this

And then there’s this scene

Could Kaiser be lying through his teeth to better manipulate Ness? While that could be a possibility I doubt it

But what the hell does Kaiser mean when he says he was a mentally weak person?

Does Kaiser mean that when he was still a child?the youngest I can see Kaiser being here is 17 and we didn’t see him struggle like that in the early panels chapter 261

Almost all the times Kaiser’s dad has ever acknowledged him was either with physical or verbal abuse so it makes sense that’s the way Kaiser would respond to the closest person he has to him 

Ness was born into a family that didn’t give that much of a shit to him . His siblings bully him for just being a child for just being himself while his parents turn him a blind eye to it and call Ness the childish one 

Ah yes because how dare a child have a imagination how dare a kid to have childhood wonder

That’s probably the reason why Ness is so attached to Kaiser … he’s probably Ness’s first closest friend..

That’s why Ness panicked when Kaiser was giving more attention to Isagi of all people

It’s interesting to see all the different ways abuse can affect a person. Kaiser is such a complex and fascinating character

This isn’t all of my thoughts about him but I don’t want this to get too long and I want those thoughts to be their own posts

Anyways. Kaiser therapy arc when?