#does sofia know what a human is

[ultra-violetra]

this is so much funnier now that he grew shark fins and can breathe underwater

[artmunstudios]

Lies of P Character Analysis: P and Carlo

Spoilers for the ending of the game lie ahead under the cut!

I have been seeing a lot of people refer to P as Carlo, specifically in the Rise of P ending, and I think it is very important to think about this fact, because it kind of goes hand in hand with the themes of the game overall. And on top of that, it's important for when making theories too!

P isn’t Carlo—he never was, and won’t ever be no matter what ending you get. Not even the Nameless Puppet is really Carlo. (His corpse maybe which is,,,,, so fucked)

I'm kinda driving this home, because I think it is really important to understand the difference between P and Carlo, because despite Geppetto claiming that P inherited his personality instead of the memories, they clearly are very different people, and that is solely because of their environments.

He’s much more like a reflection of Carlo, if he was raised in a more loving/nurturing environment. P is a Carlo that isn’t solely filled with nothing but spite and anger towards his father that literally abandoned and clearly even resented him. Compare this to the people around P at the home he knew, Hotel Krat.

Sofia— Never once really says a bad word to P. Not even in the bad ending. She is that gentle guide that, despite claiming to have awakened P for selfish reasons, acts entirely selfless and is willing for her freedom to be put on hold to help P in aiding in lessening the damage in Krat. She compliments him, gives encouraging words, and I would even dare to say she teaches P the value of life.

Antonia— Grandma. Of. The Year. Can we please give this classy lady of all sass and glory more than a peaceful death? Like???? I dunno, sneak her a bottle of that good wine, Tipple Lady seemed to really dig it. If she wasn't so sick I am more than certain that she would have been doting on P more than just verbally. I'm talking that kind of grandma, and you know exactly what I mean. This lady would somehow find a way for there to be ingredients for cookies because goddammit, she may be classy but I bet you any money she makes the best goddamn peanut butter cookies and YOU CANNOT TELL ME OTHERWISE. Every time P would come back all dirty, he would get the scolding of a lifetime because how many times does she have to tell him to leave that dirty coat and boots at the entry and let Polendina get them for a wash— And finally, if she were well enough you know damn well P would have been even more classy than he already was with those outfits. She would spend an entire day going through wardrobes and having P try each outfit on to see what looks good, because no grandson of hers is going out in drabs she will not have it— Ahem. Er. ANywayyy...that grandma. she would be that grandma. And still kind of is, she just couldn't do much being so ill. And, kind of on the flipside, I think Antonia in a way taught P the importance of death, and how it can be drawing near, but you can still be full of hope like she was.

Polendina and Pulcinella — These two taught P a very important lesson, and even taught it to him fairly early on! Puppets are not inherently evil; in fact, they can be just as alive as any human. They both love the ones they take care of, and provide that sense of kinship that P really needed. In a way, P is biracial (racial....or...????bispecies???? I????? I don't know what to call it?????) so seeing both sides of each half in him is such a great influence, and helps him realize that he may be different to both, he can belong in both worlds.

Eugenie— Sweetie. Babygirl. Bestie. She was thrown into the position of big sister so fast she didn't even realize it until like. The end of the game, I think. That conversation about her big brother seemed to make her realize that she was a big sister to P in a way, I think. Which is why the realization about her own older sibling made things much harder, I think.

Lorenzini— An eccentric, but genuinely kind hearted man. A human, that despite everything, still treats the puppets as family. Hell, he doesn't even convinced that they are the villains, and he is the one to actually initiate the whole path to when the group discovers that Geppetto is the one behind the frenzy. 1000/10, coolest uncle; he probably will buy P so many ridiculous things the moment things have calmed down in Krat. What's that? Oh, yes you need a place to stay--HAVE A HOUSE. DO YOU WANT THE BLOCK I CAN BUY YOU A BLOCK-- (Pulcinella has to withhold finances because Lorenzini will NOT stop buying P shit, and the poor lad doesn't really have a concept of money so of course he's gonna accept it all and just say yes!) .... (The realization of P not really having a concept of currency suddenly startles me. WHAT IS HE GONNA DO WHEN KRAT IS RESTORED??? POLENDINA WHY DID YOU RESET HE NEEDS FUCKIN HELP— )

Geppetto— Ah. Yes. Rat bastard (derogatory). Deadbeat dad. Control freak. YOU. I will. Give him this, and I do genuinely mean this; despite everything he has done, and how manipulative he is, he, ironically, gave P exactly what he needed from a father in some ways. Specifically, Geppetto always reminded P that he was precious and important to him, and that he genuinely did not like sending him out into dangerous situations. Even though, it was for different reasons, and the majority of us were suspicious from the start, we have to think about it from P's perspective. Think about all the things he said to him, until the end at least. P had legitimately no reason to suspect Geppetto. In many ways, as far as P could tell, he was perfect. Encouraging, gentle, he made sure P was always in tip-top shape, and he told him that he was proud to see him fight the King of Puppets (yes it's fucked up knowing it was Romeo, Carlo's possible only friend, but again, P doesn't know that until the very end). In a way, he taught P his own worth, to the point that he valued his own individuality, and refused to give up his sense of self. And in the very end, I think Geppetto realized that P was not Carlo, but he loved him like a father, despite everything.

Gemini (I FORGOT GEMINI AND HAD TO EDIT TO ADD HIM IN CAST ME INTO THE FUCKIN FIRE I AM A FAKE PINOCCHIO LORE FANATIC) - Gemini, in my opinion, in this iteration is less of a conscious and more of a??? He's kinda like Romeo's replacement, in a way; he's P's best friend. He kinda also teaches P humor as well, which is honestly a take on the talking Cricket that is so unique. He's like that awkward teacher that is young but still a little out of touch with the generation he's teaching that it's like the equivalent of hearing your 30 something professor tell a fucking dad pun. Speaking of teaching, he teaches P a lot! Especially history, and cultural stuff for Krat; and I think that's also really important for development! And it is really sweet how he still, despite Krat being in disarray, tries to kinda give the city that sense of wonder and joy for P that maybe other tourists would have.

Now, contrast that with Carlo's life:

His father drops him off randomly at a place he doesn't know (a fucking orphanage dude, you couldn't even be fucked to ship him to a proper private school at least Geppetto?) at we can assume age 10-12, without even bothering to tell him when or if he would come back, based on that first memory we see. How many more sleeps until daddy comes back? Geppetto couldn't even be bothered to see his graduation, and he claims that he would not care if he just dropped over dead. And, I'm gonna be real, just based on the line delivery, as well as some personal experiences (get into that a little later with some dissection) I fully believe he means it. I'm gonna be real, the people who say stuff like that, specifically older kids edging adulthood, most of the time they really mean that shit. And, to make matters worse, it's not even just Geppetto that brushes him off, even people that you could argue are supposed to be mentor figures, brush him off. But we don't know enough yet about the Stalker Woman, so I won't go too deep into that. Right to his death (which we have to assume was homicide) it seemed like the entire world, but Romeo, rejected him.

In a way, it makes sense that the Nameless Puppet is just a rage-filled, calculating, killing machine when it gets P's heart. It doesn't inherit the personality, just the memories. And that, with the kind of life Carlo lived, makes for a very dangerous being.

Let's also think about what Giangio said, too. He calls P a new kind of human. P doesn't just magically get human guts and whatnot. He's not human, he's a cyborg, I suppose, but even that doesn't seem entirely right. It's just kinda as Giangio calls him; a new kind of human. I guess, if we want to get cheeky, P is a Legion Human. Carlo was human, and that's just how it was. Carlo never comes back, but the memory of him does seem to live on in P. He's like??? He starts off as a reflection, and ends up becoming a legacy to Carlo, in a way.

But there is one huge indicator yet that shows that P and Carlo are separate people.

I'm gonna be honest, and say potentially a bold take, but I genuinely don't think Carlo would have cried if he were there when Geppetto dies, I really don't. Just speaking from personal experience (yet again), I have an absentee parent that, the older I get, I kind of realized was never really in my life. Similar to Geppetto in a way, too, in the concept of wanting more of a concept rather than actually being a parent. So, just speaking from that perspective, if my absentee father who never bothered to get to know me or even cared about who I was as a person died in such a way (lowkey from his own hubris) I can't say it's realistic to think that someone with that kind of relationship would cry for that parent. Feel sad? Absolutely, it's not like you are heartless and just lose all sense of apathy for that person. But it's hard to really mourn for a stranger at worst, and a associate at best.

However, P does cry. More than that, when you see him curl over Geppetto's body in the true end, that right there, is fucking despair. Again, just kind of speaking from experience, your body does some weird shit to cope when you are upset over a death. You kinda revert back to that state of being a kid, wanting to coddle your precious thing because when you were at that age, you believed that things could be fixed with stuff like a hug, or cradling, etc. It's not a conscious thought, but that is part of the reflex. P holds Geppetto, the man that he genuinely sees as his father, close; because it's the only thing he knows what to do in that moment. If we think about Carlo and Geppetto's relationship, can we really see Carlo holding his father close like that?

TLDR: P and Carlo are two entirely different people; and it is almost solely because of the environments they were in.

[fahbev]

Humans and aliens don’t mix

I love this concept, I might end up writing something, but for now I’m just gonna do some bullet points. If you’re unfamiliar with the idea, search up “humans are space orcs” and you’ll get an idea where this came from

Humans bond in a very complex social way 

- other aliens probably don’t do this

- what if a human bonds to an alien?

- the human becomes very protective and fiercely loving of this alien. The alien probably loves them back, but in a very different and well, alien way.

- the human risks their own safety and goes feral to protect their alien friend. The alien appreciates it, but can’t fathom why they would risk themselves for someone else, no matter how much they like them. The human has done this repeatedly.

- at one point the human is in danger. In theory, the alien wants to protect their human friend, but isn’t willing to risk themself, even though the human is in greater danger.

- the human is in danger, and possibly in pain, and their friend is right there, capable of intervening. Imagine how crushed they are when their friend looks them dead in the eyes, and runs away. After all the human has risked and sacrificed for them!

- the alien feels a bit guilty, of course. The alien does feel they should reciprocate the kindness they were shown, and they really don’t want their friend to suffer. On their planet, friendships are more conditional, they benefit each other in times of peace, but when danger arrives everyone is for themselves. Or maybe their not social at all, and this is the first interpersonal bond they’ve had. Either way, anyone from this alien’s species would understand, and wouldn’t blame them. It’s not their nature, their brains don’t function like that. There are no protective instincts or courage, but the human doesn’t understand.

- anyway yeah, hurt feelings. The human feels betrayed and abandoned. Especially combined with the hurt of whatever happened to them in the first place.

- the alien knows that they hurt their friend’s feelings, and is pretty torn up about it. Despite the guilt, they’re also kind of angry. The human can’t expect them to do such extreme things for them! The human does so much more for them, but it’s still a crazy demand to ask!

-they probably reconcile, with the human understanding that this isn’t the alien’s fault really, it simply isn’t a function of their behavior. Even so, the human will have to accept that no matter how much they’d sacrifice for their buddy, they can never expect the same in return.

Also, a human meeting an actual space orc? HELL YES!  This could be the same alien, or a different one, i’m just rambling. (Don’t know where I saw this idea, but I can’t find the post sadly).

- imagine being feared and considered immensely dangerous. Your planet being considered a death world and you being considered badass, tough, cutthroat and terrifying just for surviving it. Imagine the complex that would give you, especially if your species is rare and your pretty separate from them!

- the human is used to being feared. They’re used to the hushed whispers, they’re used to being one of “the scary ones from the death world”. From hearing this for so long, they’ve come to believe it. They subconsciously decided to fit the bill of how they’re perceived. They act tough, aggressive, feral. They know they’re scary and badass and they flaunt it, they like being perceived this way.

- the alien, also from a so-called death world, is the opposite. They’re friendly, they’re peaceful, and they hate their reputation. They hate how their species is perceived just because of where they hail from. They aim to break the stereotype, and show the gentle giant that they actually are.

Now have them meet >:D

The human Sofia sits at the bar. The seats within six feet of her are all empty. She guzzles her fifth drink - apparently most species are affected by it similarly to alcohol, and some weaker species would be dead by the fifth drink. Sofia remains unaffected. She could drink 30 and be unaffected. It doesn’t even taste good. She slams her empty goblet on the table, all for show. The conversations nearby hush even further, and the fearful whispers start up again. Good. She should be feared.

The door opens. In comes a gust of wind, and a hulking figure. No one in the bar is talking now.

Sofia slowly turns to face the door. She sizes up the newcomer. They’re big, not twice Sofia’s height, but a few feet shy. Not that it matters, when she’s wrestled creatures the size of bears before. The armor plating though, it sported a recognizable pattern. The forelimbs too, that were an odd combination of insectoid legs and tentacles, were a dead giveaway. This was a rragletatch. One of the most feared species in the multiverse, from one of the deadliest worlds known to the galactic community. They’re as rare as humans too. She smirks. Finally, a worthy opponent.

Some chatter starts up again as the rragletatch begins to walk up to the bar, pretending to ignore Sofia. It was still eerily quite, considering this was a bar, and people were drunk. A few gasps and screams echo when Sofia abruptly stands up, knocking over her stool. Her smirk widens into a grin. She stalks confidently up to the rragletatch stranger, and stands close enough that they can’t ignore her. Several people began filing out of the building, while others chose to stay. “So.” The alien greets her.

“You’re one of those infamous rragletatchen I hear of, no? The ones who are supposedly suuuuper scary?”

“Yes, I am rragletatchen. You’re human, right?”

“Damn right.”

“well then.”

A long pause. Practically the whole bar was listening in anticipation.

“Fight me.” Sofia’s expression didn’t waver. On Earth, she never could have looked so intimidating while staring so far up at someone.

“No.”  what?  “Oh? You scared? I thought you were supposed to be tough or something.” The stranger didn’t look scared, but they must be. Why else would they not want to fight?

“I’m not scared.”

“Then square up bitch. See who’s stronger. Finally put it to the test.”

“No.”

The whispers now were not of fear, but of confusion.

“I will not engage in needless violence,” the rragletatch continued, “contrary to the stereotype of my kind, I will not harm others if at all avoidable. Attack me if you will, I refuse to fight you.” The rragletatch stood still in a wide, but open stance, as if preparing to be hit.  Sofia felt a flash of guilt. Something about attacking an opponent who refused to fight back felt wrong.

“You don’t want to see? Find out who the real champion is?” Sofia pushed aside her feelings and stared up. Unafraid, taunting as ever.

“No. My parents, grand parents and great grandparents before me have embraced a sacred philosophy of pacifism. It saddens me that my kind is known only for cuttthroat violence, only because of our home and biology. I refuse to hurt you. Do you truly wish to hurt me?”

Sofia was a bit shocked to say the least. When she realized her jaw was open and her head cocked, she quickly schooled her expression. That question though... she thought she did. But usually she just liked to brawl. Scare people. Assert dominance. When faced with an unwilling opponent who would not be scared of her... she realized she did not wish to cause harm. She never liked hurting people, that was never the fun of it.

“No.” Sofia sighed. She slouched from her offensive stance and backed over to her seat. “Come, sit with me.” It was phrased like a command, but really it was an offer. Everyone knew Sofia would have a hard time forcing this stranger to do anything. The rragletatch followed reluctantly. Sofia picked up her stool and plopped herself haphazardly on it. The stranger sat more eloquently on one of the many seats next to her.

“I’m Sofia.”

“Yal-sre.”

People moved their seats even farther from the Death-Worlders, or as some call them, orcs.  Suddenly, Yal-sre relaxed their whole body.

“Wow.” Yal-sre almost whispered

“What?” Yal-sre made a sound that, in aliens with exoskeletons, tended to equate to a soft laugh.

“To be completely honest, I thought you were going to kill me.”

Sofia barked a laugh.

“hey! I’ve never met a human before! I didn’t want to judge based on reputation due to my own, but you came on pretty aggressively!”

“Yeah, I’m the apex predator ‘round these parts, and I plan to keep it that way. Still though, I ain’t gonna fight you if you don’t wanna.”

“That’s a relief.”

Neither knew what to say next, and suddenly the nearby silence was so loud. Fortunately, a few conversations began to pick back up now that they were talking peacefully.

“What’s your planet like?” Sofia asked.

“My planet, Challrk, is beautiful. It has vast plains of purple vshink, glowing with bioluminescent insects. Sure, they bite. Sure, I’ve been stung, bitten, chased and harassed by many a critter, but Challrk is a truly incredible place. It has high mountains that stretch beyond the atmosphere, and colors some planets can’t imagine. Our sky is orange and pink, if you can believe that. What’s Earth like?”

“Earth. It’s a rough and tumble place, you can’t survive there without being Hardy. I’ve been chased by swarms of wasps and stung repeatedly more than once. I stepped on a bee and couldn’t walk properly for days. I’ve been stung by jellyfish, and went back into the bay knowing they were there with no protection. Unafraid. Earth is rough, our fauna is often hostile and transmits thousands of deadly ailments, much of our flora is poison. Our weather conditions alone could wipe out an entire species instantly. Earth is extreme.”

“i’m sure that’s true, but that’s what you’ve been told. By people who have never been there. People who are scared because they couldn’t survive there. But what is it actually like? What do you remember?”

“I- I remember the heavy storms. I remember punching a goose and having to go to the hospital. I remember- I remember the blue skies. Fluffy white clouds, flocks of songbirds. I remember walking barefoot because I loved the green grass under my feet, not because I was trying to face danger. I remember a loving family, playing with friends. Warmth and love. I remember going in the bay because I loved the feeling of swimming and playing in the water, not because I wanted to be tougher than the jellyfish. Earth is- Earth is a BEAUTIFUL place and it makes me ANGRY” Sofia slammed both her fists on the table, “that all it’s known for is being dangerous.” A few satisfying screams and gasps rang off in response.  Sofia looked over at Yal-sre. When they didn’t say anything, “I can’t read your face or body language. Can you give me a description?” This was actually a normal question to ask, in places where species were mixed.

“Uh, understanding, I’ve been there. Pleased that we’re getting somewhere. Uhhhhh, still kinda scared of you though. Sorry,” Yal-sre answered. Sofia gaped for a second, before she gave another rough laugh, knowing she probably sounded unhinged to the alien. “Ah!” Yal-sre yelped, “What- what are yours?”  Sofia laughed harder. “laugher can mean many things, in most cases it means ‘amused’. Right now, I am laughing at you, meaning I’m being rude because I find your fear amusing. If there was any non-human who wouldn’t be scared of me, I thought it would be the damn rragletatch. You guys are supposed to be tough shit, but you’re pathetic.”

Yal-sre paused. “Well, yeah. Some of us are tougher than others.”

“Hm, yeah I guess it’s kinda the same with humans. That makes sense. Obviously if you put a fearless human who’s tougher shit than most together with the most timid rragletatch, of course you’d be scared.”

“I’m not the most timid! I’m normal! I’ll bet most humans would be scared of me too, after hearing how “dangerous” we are for so long.”

“Maybe. Humans are tough, but I’ll admit they’re not all like me.” Yal-sre did an odd motion with their... shoulder?

“Translation? I don’t speak shoulder,” Sofia attempted to mimic the motion.

“Understanding, but now amused. Anyway, does it bother you?”

“Does what?”  “The fact that everyone is afraid of you? ... even me?”

“I like being feared.”

“Do you?”  Sofia took a long sip of her drink - which probably made it look like she was drowning her sorrows - to avoid answering the question. When she was done, she placed the goblet face down on the bar to signal to the bartender that she was ready for a refill. The metal was dented... she had put it down too forcefully.

“Oops.” Though it had been an accident, her voice held no remorse.

Anyway, might continue this, might not! I’ve had the “humans are space orcs” idea in my head for a long time, I might later separate this into its own post and make it longer lol.

[gamer-paramnesia]

whats the world outside of quesadilla island like?

from what we know, its set on earth, and quesadilla island (according to sofia) is located at point nemo, the furthest point from all lifeforms

we know that the qsmp world is very much like ours, with planes and cargo freights and train stations and our current day technology (computers, security cameras, etc)

qsmp’s world has the same countries, the same languages as ours (the french flying back to france, the brazilians boating from australia (i cant quite remember this one feel free to correct me)

but the difference is that qsmp is set in a minecraft based world, while ours is.. well, the real world

so what does that mean in terms of the residents of quesadilla island?

does it mean that the entire world of qsmp is minecraft based? or is the island the only part of the world that is minecraft based? also whats up with the hybrids, then? are they normal in the qsmp world, or were they fully human outside of the island, and after arriving on the island found themselves changed...?

(on a funnier note, would a random city in the qsmp world be filled with phantoms and know them as pests, having exterminators? i love worldbuilding)

we also have the fact that apparently 2b2t is canon to the qsmp world as well, according to fit, so where would that be set? what would the logistics of that be? 

also, the existence of the eggs and the various mobs in the qsmp also add some questions. like, would they also be real outside of the island? are they island endemic? are they part of the act of quesadilla island?

a whole new layer to this would be if the island is actually a whole other dimension/plane of the earth, but i am simply not smart enough for that

but yes as you can see i love worldbuilding and the logistics of how the world in a story works with the story

[beansprean]

Guillermo tells us how to feel.

Like, consistently. He is the closest thing we have to an audience surrogate and HE tells us what our baseline expectations should be based on his reaction to the world. Luring virgins to a house of vampires to be murdered? All in a day's work! Chopping them up into bits and burying them in the backyard? Gross, but necessary! Re-deading your ex-wives in a Bachelor parody? Morally questionable but I'm not gonna stop you. Hypnotizing a man so many times his brain explodes and he dies? Sounds sad but can't talk, I'm embezzling and committing fraud atm. WWDITS is close to being an anti-comedy like IASIP or Seinfeld because the main characters are all awful people who commit terrible atrocities, but we DO care about them and their happiness because we are given that baseline to work from and know what to take seriously and what to laugh at.

The reason s4e9 felt so cruel was because Guillermo responded to it that way. Because HE was hurt and HE was upset and the last shot of the episode was his heart breaking on screen!! We are SUPPOSED to feel how he feels!! All season things have been getting better for him; he has been more appreciated and respected and has taken more control of his life and now the rug is pulled out from under him again. He/we are left wondering: Guillermo, what now? Is all this still worth it? Is it time for you to leave?

The vampires, as a rule, NO NOT CARE ABOUT HUMANS. They're livestock and free labor and occasional entertainment, and that's the way it's always been. (We haven't even talked about the fact that Nadja killed Sofia Coppola 😂😂😂) Vamps are too long-lived and jaded and used to killing to live for it to be any other way. Humans are playthings!! Unfortunately, that includes Nandor's wives. It includes Marwa, it includes Guillermo's family, and it includes Freddie. But it's starting to NOT include Guillermo.

Like Nandor, we are supposed to FEEL THE GAME ENDING. He was having fun, making a new human to play with because he was bored of his old one and getting to spend time with his best…man and literally could not compute that any of this would be upsetting to Guillermo. Because why would it? They're only toys, they can always get more. (Here, Guillermo is already held separate and above other humans)

But Guillermo was upset! He was angry! He didn't think it was fun, he didn't think it was a game, and this human was IMPORTANT to him and we see Nandor falter, stumble over his words, get quiet and soft and ashamed. The comedy is over and he stops having fun. And he does his best (best is debatable but he is very stupid) to fix it!!

Idk if these events will be specifically addressed next ep because we have important Colin things to do and there had to have been a decent time skip between Freddie leaving and Memo going to London, but I want to point out that THIS IS THE DARKEST HOUR MOMENT. Nadja is losing her club, Laszlo is losing his boy, Colin is losing his youth, Nandor lost his wife/boytoy and Guillermo's trust, and Guillermo lost his boyfriend and got his heart broken for the upteenth time. Things SUCK FOR EVERYONE right now - and that's the point!! Ep 9 of season 3 ended with Colin Robinson DYING. Next ep, things will start to look up. Right before something insane happens that makes everything SIGNIFICANTLY worse and leaves us on a year-long cliffhanger! 😃 And I for one am excited to see it lmao

(Also Marwa sidenote bc look how they massacred my girl:

I will miss Marwa and I'm sad about her (I know not everyone was fond of her like I was lol but idk if the writers expected anyone to feel a way about her regardless), and I'm left thinking "is this even Marwa?" If she has none of her own memories or body or personality left, can we even consider it her? Does Marwa no longer exist? May be the best outcome for her mental state if she now exists only in 1300s Al Qolindar again lol. But if the wishes get reversed or something else happens to return her to Marwadom I'm hopeful she will pull a Derek and return one day!! Wwdits is well known for bringing back one-off characters, and Marwa was a season regular in like 7/10 episodes so I'm not giving up on her yet... My fanart will continue.)

[phoenixyfriend]

Love it when the current events on the news are complicated on a moral level and you know the Correct Answer According To The Echo Chamber, but you also are the kind of person who has to break things down to the smallest level. [Sarcasm]

Please be civil, I'm not trying to convince people of anything, I'm trying to break down my own feelings on this and figure out what, if any, resolution it could have.

So the thing is

Some people would like to have their ashes buried on the moon.

There are reasons to dispute this, but ngl if we're gonna do space exploration, then subsidizing it through the vanity project that is having your ashes sent to the big rock in the sky seems like a relatively efficient way to fundraise.

However. The Navajo nation is asking that human remains not be placed on the moon because it is sacred to them and other indigenous peoples.

Which is fair, I understand them being upset, but...

Unlike specific mountains or lakes or even the entire continent of the Americas

The moon is. Everyone's.

The moon does not and should not belong to any one community.

The question becomes, does one community's claim over a celestial object hold more weight than another's?

It's not that other communities have a sacred history OF burying ashes, so the request isn't hurting anyone, but what about precedent? If a moon colony is set up, will deaths on the moon be expected to result in shipping bodies back to earth for burial? If the colony exists, how many bodies might that eventually be?

And just the general question of, like, what about other cultures that involve the moon in their religion? What if "joining the moon" is something a person views as achieving a oneness with THEIR moon god? If someone from China wants to do this in honor of Chang'e, or a Greek person for Artemis, or a Zulu person for iNyanga, or a Japanese person for Tsukuyomi, etc etc

Then where does that balance lie?

This isn't land that was stolen, it's the MOON.

I don't imagine it would be a COMMON choice (see: cost), but it's not unimaginable that someone would ask to do this out of a GENUINE religious or spiritual devotion to the moon or associated deity.

But there's a history of disrespect to indigenous culture's sacred places, especially in the Americas, and it's PROBABLY not like the rich individuals paying a private company to get their ashes up on the moon are doing it out of devotion to a moon god.

So in this case it would be putting the individual wants of a wealthy person above the cultural practices of many people.

But in the long run... What do we expect to come of it? What are the consequences of precedent? The rights of individuals need to be protected even when the individual is shit, but the rights of marginalized communities can't get dropped by the wayside on the way.

IDK

I don't know how to feel about it, it's complicated. I'm trying to relate it back to something personal that I DO have similar feelings about, but everything comparable (e.g. the Hagia Sofia situation) is very grounded in "it was ours first" so like. Yeah. That approach isn't working.

Nobody in the news I'm following has really explored it, just dropped a mention of it and moved on.

[teecupangel]

Hear me out:

Soulmate au where soulmarks were created by the Isu to ensure that the right matches would be made in order to get to the chosen one.

They appear the moment two soulmates see each other for the first time, and they start itching after a few days of separation. After a week or so, they start burning.

By the time Desmond is born soulmarks are exceptionally rare, so he does not expect to get one himself, (and by all means he shouldn't get one, since we know that he is the chosen one) but he does, and it's right after he wakes up in Abstergo's Rome facility.

He's really hoping that his soulmate is the cute blonde lady, and not the crazy old guy.

(Ideally this would start as a Desmond/Lucy story only to then switch to a deconstruction of the soulmate trope as they both fall in love with different people instead. Time travel might be involved, for AltDes purpuses.)

(It's up to you whether Desmond and Lucy's soulmarks are a mistake on the Isu's part or something more sinister, maybe Juno's plan to get a new body by being reborn as Lucy's daughter after Desmond dies to save the world? Of course this would imply that in this timeline she doesn't kill her in Brotherhood...)

Or…

It’s a man-made created soulmark?

Like Abstergo managed to get the device that had been used to add the soulmark into humans and they tried to reverse engineer it?

It’s not perfect but they managed to make it work and all they have to do is inject a person with the ‘solution’ from the device that makes use of other chemical components that would trigger the ‘soulmate symptoms’ plus a secret ingredient.

The blood of the intended ‘partner’.

This isn’t how the device actually worked. The device itself used the DNA as seen in the calculations to set up the solutions which would be added to the humans’ genes using another device but Abstergo can’t find the device itself (the device is actually the Eye in the Grand Temple as that’s the one which has the capabilities to see into the future and thus can connect with the Calculations stable enough for the Capitoline Triad to add in the solutions into the Calculations) without the need of any injections to the targets.

So, Abstergo make do with creating an injection, calling it ‘YN-001’ and they injected it to both Desmond and Lucy while Desmond was unconscious so it only triggered when he first got out of the Animus and his eyes met Lucy’s.

Why?

Because by making Desmond believe that Lucy is his soulmate, he’d be easier to control for Project Siren.

But it all come crashing down when Juno controlled Desmond in the Colosseum vault, calling Lucy an abomination and showing everyone using the golden holograms that Lucy and Vidic had injected Desmond with YN-001 to make him believe Lucy is his soulmate.

If you want Lucy to live, Desmond’s feelings for her (which he believed to be love because he did believe he and Lucy were soulmates) makes him able to control his body before he stabs Lucy and he managed to strike a little to the right, missing her vital organs instead.

He still falls in a coma and Clay tells him the truth of Juno’s words. How the soulmate system had been created to ensure that Desmond was born. It was never about fated love or true happiness, it had always been to ensure the birth of the chosen one.

So… AC Revelations happen with Desmond jaded because of Lucy’s betrayal and the truth about the entire soulmate system.

When AC3 rolls around, Desmond actually confronts Bill and asked if he ever loved Desmond’s mother.

The hesitation in Bill’s voice as he tells him that he cared for his wife and she cared for him as well was all Desmond needed to know that they might have been soulmates but his parents didn’t even love one another.

So what did that mean for Ezio?

For Altaïr?

Ezio got the courage to leave the Brotherhood because he believed that Sofia was his soulmate and that they were meant to be together.

Altaïr married Maria and raised a family with her for decades because of the soulmark they shared.

Did that invalidate their feelings?

Did that invalidate their love for one another?

Desmond didn’t want to believe it.

Because if that was true…

If the whole soulmate system was meant to ensure that people would give birth to individuals that would later end up becoming part of Desmond Miles’ genes…

Then… didn’t that meant the feelings soulmates held for one another were their chains?

That they were unable to break from?

Unorganized Notes (AltDes because I was given an option and I will take it XD):

Desmond is under the impression that the soulmate system can influence feelings. It does not. The soulmate system relies on humans believing they are meant to fall in love with their soulmate to work. It can only trigger hormones and the burning sensation if they’re not with their soulmate but, other than that, the feelings are their own.

Desmond doesn’t believe this as he did fell in love with Lucy but her betrayal and the truth about the soulmate system made him believe that his own feelings were 'created' beyond his control and the only way to finally stop the feelings is after their ‘part’ of the calculations is done (which is true as Bill and his wife have been separated since the attack on the Farm and Bill doesn’t show any pain that should have come from the ‘burning’).

Desmond gets sent back in time a few months before the start of AC1 (late June 1191). From there, Altaïr and Desmond meet and they fall in love.

Desmond’s love for Altaïr is real for him because it’s not the soulmate system. However, he also knows that Altaïr would fall in love with his soulmate once they met. Altaïr doesn’t believe he has a soulmate and his feelings for Desmond are real for him as well. He also knows that Desmond hates the very concept of soulmates while Altaïr actually holds it in a high regard because his own parents were soulmates and he lost both of them at such an early age that he wished to believe they had been happy.

Desmond knows that and that’s why he could never tell Altaïr the truth about the soulmate system. It would be cruel and… Desmond loves Altaïr too much to tell him that his parents had him to ensure that Desmond Miles would be born.

Desmond is also jaded enough to tell Altaïr that once he meets his soulmate, he will ‘forget’ about Desmond so… Desmond doesn’t care how fast they were moving. He only had a few months with Altaïr and he was greedy enough to take and take as much as he could until Altaïr would no longer be by his side.

Altaïr wants to show Desmond that he won’t go anywhere even if his soulmate were to appear so he indulges all of Desmond’s wishes.

Altaïr and Desmond’s relationship is a secret… with only Kadar knowing about it because he saw the both of them together once and he promised not to say anything.

Then… June 1191 came and it’s up to you if Kadar survived or not.

Throughout Altaïr’s hunt for the Seven, Desmond is the only person who stayed by his side, not judging him for his failures. Some of the Assassins and informants try to help Altaïr because they wanted to but their actions are tainted by Al Mualim’s orders to make Altaïr work for their support. Because of this, Altaïr feels isolated with Desmond being the only one who stayed by his side. Desmond doesn’t stop him from thinking that because he knows their time together was slowly coming to a close so he holds Altaïr as tightly as he could for the few remaining weeks they have left.

Until…

September 1191 rolled around and Altaïr meets Maria Thorpe. His soulmark appears at the same time hers did and they both stared at each other with wide eyes before Altaïr runs away.

Instead of going to Malik like in canon, he goes to Desmond and Desmond knows just by looking at the rattled expression on Altaïr’s face that he had met Maria. He unclasped Altaïr’s hidden blade and stares at his soulmark, marking Altaïr’s left arm, before saying goodbye. Altaïr tries to stop him but Desmond tells him that the soulmark cannot be erased and Altaïr is ‘destined’ to be with Maria.

“Maybe… maybe in six years… you will remember that you loved me. Maybe…”

Altaïr promises never to forget his love for Desmond but Desmond believes he will forget it. Instead of saying that though, Desmond just smiles at him and tells him he has to go to Malik and save the Brotherhood.

The rest of the plot happens and Altaïr returns to Jerusalem as soon as he could even as he took the mantle of mentor. Instead, he finds Desmond’s home empty and… Maria there, holding a letter that Desmond had given her when she had been looking for Altaïr.

So, more angst happen here and there, Altaïr refuses to fall in love with Maria, Maria is torn between wanting to hate Altaïr and pitying him because she can see how much Altaïr was in pain, and…

Well, we can go for various endings for this one…

Possible Endings:

Downer-ish ending: Altaïr and Maria do fall in love in the end but Maria will always know that Altaïr’s feelings for her paled in comparison to how he feels for Desmond. When Sef is born, their soulmark stop trying to burn them if they try to leave each other’s side but, at that point, Altaïr loved his sons too much to abandon them. (If you want to turn this into a bittersweet complicated ending: Desmond visits after Sef’s birth and he asks Altaïr if he remembers how he loved him, Altaïr replies he never forgot and Desmond would have to live with the guilt of hurting Altaïr needlessly but still remaining by his side and becoming Altaïr’s lover who has a strained relationship with Maria)

Good-ish ending: Kadar stops Desmond from actually leaving and Altaïr manages to catch up, begging Desmond to stay by his side. His soulmark with Maria forces Maria and Altaïr to be near with one another every few days but Maria knows Altaïr’s heart belongs to Desmond. Desmond feels guilty for hurting Maria but Maria just waves it off as she has no reason to fall in love with a man in love with someone else. Maria and Altaïr’s chains finally break when Sef is born and Maria leaves Masyaf as she had always felt like a stranger in the Brotherhood (happy ending for Maria and our KadMar agenda: she goes stay with Kadar in Jerusalem instead and this could end up as romantic or platonic).

‘Golden’ ending: Altaïr uses the Apple to find a way to erase his and Maria’s soulmark with Maria being his ally as she doesn’t want to have a soulmark of a man who is obviously in love with another person. The Apple brings them to an Isu temple and Desmond is also there because, the truth was, he couldn’t bury his feelings for Altaïr and he wanted to be selfish for once so he was looking for a way to erase Altaïr’s soulmark so he can ‘remember’ Desmond. They end up using the device in that Isu temple after Altaïr tells Desmond that he never stopped loving him and the reason why they’re there is to erase his soulmark as well. Maria’s just there, feeling pity for the pain the two had gone through but also annoyed because a lot of the drama wouldn’t have happened if. They. Had. Talked. To. Each. Other. Instead. Of. Desmond. Running. Away. In. The. First. Place. Anyway, happy ending with Altaïr finally erasing his and Maria’s soulmark and Maria goes her own merry way with her dreams of wanting to find her own path.

(sidebar: if you want a soulmate AU AltDes, then may I suggest Zero Eclipse? The soulmate mark is an Isu invention in that one too (by the Isu Inanna) with a similar premise of ‘you will earn your soulmark if you do what we want you to do and follow the Calculation we chose’)

[wander-over-the-words]

BioFluff Week 2023 Fic #6

Title: Pillow Talk.

Prompt: Hobbies/Dreams

Summary: The one where tomorrow is the day Delta gets cured, and Sinclair settles his worries.

Characters: Subject Delta, Augustus Sinclair; mentions of Brigid Tenenbaum, Big Daddies, Subject Sigma, Eleanor Lamb, Sofia Lamb.

Pairing: Augustus Sinclair/Subject Delta.

Warnings: lots of talk of surgery, some references to human experimentation and sex.

Notes: Sixth submission for a new BioFluff Week! Here’s the response to the prompt ‘Dreams’! This was originally one of my answers for last year’s event, but it fell through and got replaced with Keeping the Romance Alive. Couldn’t upload it yesterday due to technical difficulties, but ah, well.

Side note: Works as a soft sequel to Safety In Numbers and Like the Night Follows Day, if only cause it mentions those fics.

All material belongs to Irrational Games.

Fic also available on AO3.

…

There comes a tentative knocking at his bedroom door - if you could even call it that, it’s so gentle, it’s more a tap than anything else - and Sinclair smiles at the open book in his hands from where he’s propped against his headboard with his blanket pulled to his chest. 

He knows who’s out there, he could hear him coming a mile away.

“C’mon in,” he calls out, “I’m decent.”

It takes a moment, then the doorknob shakes, very slowly turning and the door is pushed open, and Delta stands on the other side. He peers at Sinclair like he’s checking whether Sinclair was lying about being decent, then he goes to step into the room - only to whack the top of his helmet on the doorway, letting out a startled grunt as he does so.

Sinclair slaps a hand over his mouth to silence the laugh he almost lets out as Delta growls and rubs the top of his porthole.

“You forgettin’ where you are, chief?” Sinclair says, dropping his hand. “Doorways on the surface weren’t made for Big Daddies. You’re gonna hafta double over if you wanna fit.”

Delta huffs, drops his hand, then bends his knees and turns sideways, doing a crab-walk like move to shuffle through Sinclair’s bedroom doorway; it’s a struggle not to laugh at the poor guy, and Sinclair admittedly has to cover his mouth again before he embarrasses Delta, who is very clearly not enjoying this.

Once Delta’s safely through the doorway, he pops back up to his normal height and turns to gently push the door shut.

Bless him, it’s sweet to watch him being so extremely careful with everything he touches in Sinclair’s house, especially since the damage he’d done when Sinclair had still suffered with nightmares (the doorway is no longer shaped like Delta’s body, the new door stands more sturdy, and the stairs no longer have Delta’s footprints embedded into them). Practically nothing’s made of metal when it comes to the furniture, everything’s wood and fabric, and it’s older than even Rapture was, so it’s more prone to breaking under Delta’s might, and even more delicate to fix.

Delta looks around himself at the room, and lets out an awed croon of wonder.

“What, you like my old room? Guess you ain’t had a chance ta look it over before - we so rarely bring you upstairs,” Sinclair says, closing his book and setting it down on the mattress beside him. “Well, this here’s what we call the master bedroom, chief. Was where I laid my head before Rapture, is where I lay my head after.”

Delta is ducking to observe the fireplace opposite Sinclair’s canopy bed, the mantelpiece recently cleaned and polished by Sinclair himself. 

“You feel free to light that if you’re inclined, chief,” Sinclair says. “There is a chill in the air tonight. I took the liberty of puttin’ new wood in there earlier, so it’s ready when you are. Just have to locate my matches for ya, hold on…”

He leans over to the bedside table to check, only for a waft of heat to hit him from the other end of the room. When he turns his head to look, the fireplace is roaring, and Delta holds flames in his left hand.

“Ah-ha! Now, how’d I forget about that magic trick, huh?”

Sinclair playfully slaps his own forehead as Delta waves away Incinerate! from his glove. 

Delta watches the flames dance, hovering a hand out to try and feel the heat, then he rubs his fingers together and stands up straight. He catches sight of the gold clock on the mantelpiece and gives it a little poke, then turns and looks down at the rug on Sinclair’s floor - a long rectangular thing that has a border of grey squares along its edges, surrounding the red rectangle in the middle, which is stamped with bubbles of dark colours, with some squiggles of green here and there; it doesn’t seem to be going by a particular pattern - and then bypasses it to go to the chest of drawers adjacent to Sinclair’s bed.

There’s a mirror perched on top that Sinclair uses to style his hair in the mornings, and Delta stares into it before looking down at the drawers. He reaches out to open one, only to stop when Sinclair pointedly clears his throat.

Delta turns around to him, finding him to be frowning.

“Don’t you know it’s impolite to go nosin’ through someone’s else’s belongings? You got no idea what you’ll find in there, chief.” He nods towards the drawer Delta nearly opened. “Though I can inform you that that there drawer’s where I keep my drawers, if you’re wantin’ to play deviant.”

Delta’s shoulders jerk with surprise and he immediately fiddles with his thumbs like he doesn’t know what else to do with himself, before pressing his hands over his porthole. He’s flustered, embarrassed.

Sinclair drops the act and barks out a laugh. 

“Aw, I’m just messin’, sugar,” he says, watching Delta as he drops his hands, then Sinclair puts on a pout as he adds, “Correct me if I’m wrong - but I am startin’ to wonder if you jus’ came in here ta sight-see, ‘stead of comin’ to visit yours truly. Sure, the room’s the tops, and I know I ain’t picture-perfect myself right now,” he gestures to his hair, which is void of its pomade and thus not styled as normal, since he’s in bed (and sleeping with hair pomade means he gets awful bedhead in the morning, and then he really will be ‘not looking his best’), “but surely, you can spare a thought for your sweetheart?”

Jolting softly again, Delta looks at him, then he must suss out that Sinclair’s supposed jealousy is an act because he lets out a rumbly sort of growl and walks over to give Sinclair a very gentle push to his bicep, a very clear message of Don’t be silly.

Sinclair’s pout is immediately replaced with a little grin as he chuckles, then as Delta takes a seat down on the floor beside his bed, legs crossed, Sinclair places his book on his bedside table and removes his glasses, placing them atop the book.

He lays down and rolls onto his side to face Delta better, propping his head on his hand, elbow digging into one of his pillows, and smiles easily at him.

“Tomorrow’s the big day, chief,” he says. “Finally gettin’ you outta that second skin o’ yours.”

He was expecting one of Delta’s excited croons, but instead he just sees Delta’s body language stiffen up.

“Now, you remember what I told ya, ‘bout the aftermath? Doc Tenenbaum tells me that there’s a recovery process to this whole ‘a Big Daddy no more’ procedure. Said it’s what happened to another Alpha Series whose human face she brought back - Subject Sigma, I believe. Was tellin’ me over the phone that your body’s gonna need to get used to the lack of ADAM in your system all over again, which means you’re gonna wanna sleep a lot, you’ll be hungry an’ thirsty often, and your, ah - ahem - other bodily functions may come as a surprise. Said it should only last a week or so - couple of weeks, tops, particularly that lack of energy. No runnin’ through the halls for you yet, kid - you’re gonna be stuck in bed for a while, an’ young Eleanor and I will just hafta help you move around until then.

“Not to mention, you might be hurtin’ a bit, since she’s gonna be fixin’ your ol’ voicebox, but I picked up some pain relief from the drugstore down town, so we’re all set there. She mentioned it’ll take a couple weeks for your throat to heal, so when your belly starts wantin’ to get reacquainted with a meal, it’s gonna have to be tomato soup an’ water - nothin’ you gotta chew. The spare bedroom’s all ready,” he shrugs a shoulder, “to act as your private recovery suite, alongside a makeshift surgery room. Wish we could take you to a real hospital, but that just isn’t feasible, all things considered. We’d have a helluva story to tell, bringin’ you in.” 

Sinclair cocks his head with a slight wince.

“If you’re wantin’ pure honesty from me, honey, it doesn’t sound like this recovery’s gonna be a barrel of laughs, but if there’s anybody that can get through it with his head held high, it’s you.”

He gives Delta a smile.

Once again is he expecting some sort of excited reaction from the big guy, but Delta can only fidget where he sits, shoulders falling and hands tangling together in his lap. When Delta puffs out a sigh, Sinclair’s face falls in confusion and he sits up, supporting his weight on his arm.

“Well, now, I can’t say I was expectin’ you to jump to the heavens in joy, chief,” he says, brow furrowed in concern, “but not even a cheer? Honey, you’re actin’ as though someone stole your last dollar from under your nose - why the sudden silence? Was it all that talk about the surgery? I know it sounds scary, but I’m confident that Doc Tenenbaum knows what she’s doin’, and she’s real confident too. Says that other fella’s been talkin’ up a storm since he got out, so there’s nothin’ for you to worry over.”

Delta’s body language doesn’t ease up in the slightest. If anything, he draws into himself even more.

“What is it, honey?” Sinclair asks. “What’s givin’ you the jitters so badly? C’mon, you can tell me - best you can manage.”

Delta is still for a moment, then he hesitantly lifts his hands and turns his waist so that he can point at the wall behind him. It doesn’t take long for Sinclair to realise he’s pointing toward Eleanor’s room.

“Eleanor?” he asks to make sure.

Delta grunts in confirmation, then keeps that finger he’d pointed with extended, only now he turns his hand so that the finger is pointing upwards, as he twists back around to Sinclair. With his right hand, he taps himself on the chest, then points his finger upwards and stands his two pointing fingers together, to represent he and Eleanor. Then he uses his right hand to draw a circle around his heart.

Sinclair thinks he understands, and the message shocks him.

“What,” he says, “you…you’re worried that Eleanor will stop lovin’ you as she does if you get yourself out of that suit?”

Delta draws his hands back in to fidget with them again, giving Sinclair all the confirmation he needs.

Sinclair’s mouth opens and closes, still surprised at this development; why, he’s always seen Delta and Eleanor’s relationship as the pinnacle of familial bonds, even despite how they came together. Never seen a father-child duo closer than the two of them.

Sinclair almost chokes on his own disbelieving laugh, then leans forward on his bed.

“Well, now I got proof that ADAM affects you just the same as it affects everybody else, kid,” he says, “cause what I’m hearin’ is some crazy talk.” 

Delta flinches like he’s being scolded, then lets out a tiny, worried hum of a rumble.

“Honey, that girl looks at you like you hung up the sun - an’ you practically did, in her world. She wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you, an’ she was willin’ to throw it all away for you down in Persephone, the way she stood up to her momma like she did, refusin’ to leave you behind, an’ no amount of genius minds could make up a love like that. You still got your bond, sure, but Lamb did away with her conditionin’ years ago, so she’s got no reason ta still see you as her daddy - but she does. You’re her father because you’re her father. She adores you, kid, more’n I’ve ever seen a child lovin’ their parent. Don’t tell me you think back on all the time you’ve spent together, up here in the daylight, and think your get-up has somethin’ to do with it?”

Delta looks hesitant, then his hackles rise up and he squeezes his fists shut, putting a more determined front on. 

Knowing Delta, there’s a side of him that’s still nervous, but if Sinclair’s settled that frankly absurd worry even just a little, then that works for him.

“That’s right - you an’ Eleanor are a pair, and you don’t go separatin’ pairs, now, do you?”

Delta grunts in the affirmative, but whatever confidence he had crumbles in an instant, and it’s like someone let the air out of him, the way his body language sags; clearly, Sinclair has just reminded him of something. Tilting himself forward just so, to look down at the floor, Delta taps his fingertips together thoughtfully, then hesitantly points at Sinclair.

“An’ what about me, kid?” 

Delta gestures to himself, then draws another circle around his heart.

“And how is it that you reckon gettin’ cured will damage our relationship? Think you’ve gotten your wires crossed on that one, chief.”

Delta hesitates, clearly uncertain about whether he should share these thoughts he’s got, then gestures towards his own porthole. He points to Sinclair again, then draws a circle around his porthole to indicate his face. Then he slices his hands through the air, grunting in the negative.

Of course, he should’ve known: Delta’s face.

It’s the one thing Delta’s always been afraid of, showing what’s underneath his helmet. Even with their relationship being what it is, Sinclair’s never seen Delta without his dome; Delta took it off in front of him only once, but Sinclair respects Delta too much to peek, even when he’d dearly wanted to, since he knows where Delta’s boundaries lay. Can’t say he blames the kid either - only the scientists who created them really know what Big Daddies look like, but nobody can claim they think everything’s okay under there.

Still, Sinclair feels as though Delta’s got to give him a little more credit than that.

“Now, I know your misgivings about showin’ your face, pumpkin,” Sinclair says softly, “but do you really reckon that I’ll turn my back on ya if you come jumpin’ outta that suit, not lookin’ like some movie star?”

Delta draws back into himself all over again, looking down at the floor and fiddling with his fingers. Bless him - he clearly feels bad for what he’s accidentally been implying about Sinclair’s character, but he’s still anxious.

“Honey, anythin’ that the ADAM has done to you under there will be solved when Doc Tenenbaum gives you the solution she’s whipped up, an’ even if you still feel as though you got a face that could crack a mirror?”

He scoffs a laugh, the whole notion is just so ridiculous to him.

“Sweetheart, I don’t care what you look like. I don’t care now, I won’t care when the helmet finally comes off. Think of it this way: I spent all my years down in Rapture avoidin’ you Big Daddies, an’ now here I am,” he holds out a hand, “offerin’ my hand to one.”

Delta doesn’t catch the offer immediately, so wrapped up in his thoughts, with his gaze cast downwards, but when Sinclair doesn’t continue to speak, he looks up, jolts, then delicately takes Sinclair’s hand in his.

“There, now, y’see? What you and me got, honey, that’s special. We’ve gone through far too much fer me to gain a shallow perspective, an’ I’m not partial to you cause I think you’re hidin’ some Adonis-like facial structure. I feel the way I do, kid, cause…well.”

He tries to settle his discomfort of being so open about his emotions; this here’s a situation that calls for him to be a little soft. Just gotta think of Delta’s wellbeing.

“You’re a gentleman, for one. You’re kind an’ sweet, and for a Big Daddy, you’re one hell of a charmer. Besides, you laugh at my jokes, an’ there’s always a chance of me gettin’ soft on a fella who does that.”

As if taking the cue, Delta chortles.

“Precisely, see?” Sinclair says with a grin. 

Delta’s shoulders lose some of their tension as he sighs softly, then he shuffles closer and cups his other hand over Sinclair’s. He pats it gently, apologising for his not-so-nice assumptions, he just…can’t help his concerns.

Spent so long dreaming of walking the streets of the outside world with Augustus and Eleanor, and now that the time is coming, he’s…frightened. Excited, but frightened. 

He just…He just hopes he’s handsome, like Augustus is. A face that Augustus can love, and one everybody can look at without getting scared of him.

Sinclair gives him a smile as he says, “So, y’see, honey? I don’t care how you look once you’re freed. For as long as you’ll have me, honey…you got me.”

Delta sings a note of whalesong to him, touched, and gives his hand the gentlest of squeezes to return the favour.

Sinclair smiles lovingly at him, then one side of that smile twists awkwardly.

“Not that I’m…proposin’ marriage, mind - not even a law degree like mine could help with that. But, ah…Hm.”

Sinclair cocks his head before he averts his eyes and tugs on his hand, indicating to Delta that he’d like it back.

Perplexed, Delta releases him as asked, giving a soft, questioning hum.

With the index finger of that hand, Sinclair strokes an idle line over his sheets, pondering whether he should speak of the next topic on his mind, before he smiles softly and decides to go for it.

“Well…now, listen, honey,” he says slowly, “now, you can lemme know if this is too forward of me, but, ah…well…”

He lifts his gaze to Delta’s covered face again, sees him staring curiously.

“Doc Tenenbaum says it’s best that you keep to yourself while you recover, but once you’re all better…I was just mullin’ it over, and since you’ll be needin’ a bedroom like Eleanor an’ I have got, ‘stead of just stayin’ in the place in which you were bedridden…maybe you’d be partial ta callin’ this master bedroom…our master bedroom?”

With a gasp, Delta jolts in surprise, straightening up immediately.

“Now, like I said, chief,” Sinclair holds out a hand, “if I’m crossin’ a line, you just say so. I’d understand if you still want your space, since it’ll be the first time you’ve owned a bedroom in God-knows how long, but if there’s a chance you might wanna room together -”

Before Sinclair’s even finishing that thought, Delta’s letting out a loud, excited note of whalesong, pleasantly surprising Sinclair, who grins as he huffs a laugh.

“Aw - you like that idea, huh? Good, cause I do too. Why, we can even redecorate the place, if you wanna (maybe replace that rug, got no idea why I bought that) - and I’ll even let you pick your side of the bed.” 

The excitement gets too much for Delta to hold in: he’s uncrossing his legs and rising to his knees, all the while belting out a long croon, creating a cheerful contrast to his roar, which is the only other noise he’s ever let out at that volume. 

Sinclair hurries to shush him through laughter, waving a hand at him and then putting a finger over his grin.

“Shhh! Quiet it down, kid, or you’ll wake Eleanor up!” 

Delta either doesn’t hear him over his own trilling or he ignores him, since he’s too busy surging forward. He leans his arms on Sinclair’s bed and pushes, trying to propel himself upwards and climb atop the mattress while keeping his head ducked, lest he throw himself into Sinclair’s canopy.

He makes it halfway onto the bed before it creaks dangerously under Delta’s weight, and Sinclair’s once again scrambling to stop him from doing something they’ll both regret, waving his hands in the air and sliding backwards on his bed, away from Delta so that he isn’t squashed by his own partner.

“Woah, woah, stop, honey, stop!” Sinclair calls. “Ya can’t climb on up here right now, you’re still too big!”

His words seem to reach Delta this time despite the fact that Delta is still crooning, as Delta stops venturing forwards and instead puts out both arms, hands sliding beneath his partner’s body, getting Sinclair tangled up in the blanket that’s still pulled up to his chest from earlier. It takes a couple of attempts before he can get a good enough grip on Sinclair, and then he slides him across the sheets to bring him to the edge of the bed.

After pushing his forearms under Sinclair’s body too, Delta stands properly on his own two feet, then lifts Sinclair from his bed, the rest of the blanket hanging off from Delta’s hold like Sinclair’s wearing a cloak, one corner of it still tucked into the mattress.

“Easy, now, easy!” Sinclair exclaims, clambering to grab ahold of Delta’s helmet or shoulder, anywhere he can.

Carefully supporting Sinclair in his arms, Delta stands to his full height, stepping back from Sinclair’s bed, tugging hard at the blanket to free its corner from the mattress. When it slips free with ease under a Big Daddy’s strength, Delta bounces Sinclair once in his arms, adjusting his hold on him, then he holds Sinclair close, cuddling him as his croon quietens, lest he blast Sinclair’s ears.

With Sinclair secure in his arms, Delta walks over to the fireplace, and Sinclair’s tummy flips as Delta goes down, sitting himself upon the rug. He crosses his legs again, then brings Sinclair in and lays him down in his lap, arms still under him but now supporting him so that Sinclair might comfortably sit up.

Sinclair’s laughing to himself; he’s not usually a fan of being taken off his feet willy-nilly, but now, with Delta being as excited as he is, it’s nothing short of endearing, even cute.

Delta tilts his right arm up, bringing Sinclair with it, and he leans in to affectionately press his helmet against Sinclair’s hair, rumbling so low and quiet that he might as well be purring at him.

Sinclair’s laughter is brought down to a fond chuckle as he shuts his eyes, turning his head to nuzzle his forehead against Delta’s dome, then he pats Delta’s chest.

“If I’d known you were gonna be tossin’ me up in your arms like that, I woulda tried to break the idea ta you more softly. Wonder if you’ll still be able ta lift me up at all, once you’re back to normal.”

Delta draws back from him, and his shoulders fall a little.

Much as he’s eager to ditch this hulking body of his, a part of him will miss being able to pick Augustus up bridal-style and hold him in his lap like this. He likes having Augustus in his arms, and even though he’s always frightened of accidentally hurting him, he…likes being the bigger guy in the relationship.

After a thought, Delta’s shoulders stiffen with determination: if he isn’t big and strong enough to lift Augustus once he’s cured, then he’ll get big and strong enough, in the traditional way. He’ll buy a bunch of weights to lift and go on jogs every day, twice a day, three times, until he’s muscular again. He’ll put in the work and get the best of rewards.

Sinclair must be able to tell what he was initially thinking about because he says, “Aw, but I don’t mind, either way. You could be skinny as a rake an’ I wouldn’t care.”

(Even still - Delta’s plan still stands.) 

Sinclair leans in to him as he adds, “But, see, bunkin’ together’s just the tip of the iceberg, kid - think of all the rest of the things you’ll be able ta do.”

Delta hums, intrigued.

“Well, just think on it: your body will work the way it’s supposed ta, so you’ll be eatin’ an’ drinkin’ like any ol’ regular man! Sure, for now, it’ll jus’ be on soup an’ water, but after that? You can have anything you want, and I know for certain that Eleanor’s been thinkin’ up a list of things she’d like you to try out. I know of a few myself, come to think of it.”

Delta perks up, staring at him. Even with the lack of face, the stare is clearly expectant; Sinclair’s piqued his interest, and Delta would like to hear more of what he could do.

Sinclair chuckles, then adds, “And there’s sleepin’. No more waitin’ around in the dark for Eleanor or myself to rise from our slumbers - why, the night’ll be nothin’ but the blink of an eye for you, sport! An’ lemme tell ya, that bed over there is as soft as cotton candy, and relaxin’ ta boot - and I’ll bet you’re as much a great, big cuddlebug at night as you are durin’ the day.”

At the mention of his favourite pet name, Delta lets out a delighted warble, shoulders lifting up all happy-like, making Sinclair laugh.

Sinclair points a finger toward the bottom of his helmet, where Delta’s neck is hiding. 

“And without that Big Daddy voicebox blockin’ your own, you’ll be able ta talk, chief, with your own voice! And I’ll bet you’ll be a chatterbox, just like me! If that’s possible.”

He gives him a wink, self-deprecating, and Delta chuckles, then croons excitedly; the more Sinclair talks, the more Delta’s body language opens up, looking as though he could float off of the floor at any second.

“Now, that’ll be another one that’s gonna take some time - your throat will need ta heal first - but then it’s off to the races. Speakin’ of - once your body’s all healed up an’ used to bein’ without ADAM again, we can all head into town and Eleanor an’ I can show ya around! It’s a li’l different than I described on the train, place has changed a tad since I last lived here, but it’s still a nice town, with lots to do. Not to mention, the sunshine we get - you’ll finally be able ta feel the sun, too! And rain, if that suits your fancy. All kinds of weather, kid. An’ maybe best of all,” Sinclair gestures towards the door, “you’ll be able to fit through doorways without havin’ to shrink yourself down! Heck, you’ll even be able to sit at the dinner table with us, and on the sofa, too!” 

Practically buzzing now, Delta croons loudly again, and Sinclair shushes him before he can get too excited. He’s grinning, though, because Delta’s excitement is so damn infectious.

“And feel free to tell me again about my forwardness,” Sinclair says, running a finger over Delta’s suited chest, then he leans up to murmur, like he’s got a secret (and for what it’s worth, Delta leans in too, ready to hear it), “but I can’t help but consider all that smoochin’ we could be doin’, once you got a mouth to smooch with.”

Delta gasps like he’s scandalised, then takes his hand from under Sinclair’s legs and covers his porthole with it, feeling bashful, with a soft note of whalesong, like a nervous whine.

Sinclair chuckles deviously, leaning up to nuzzle Delta’s helmet again, before pulling back to speak.

“Think you’ll remember how to do that, pumpkin? Cause, of course, generous as I am, I’ll be more than happy ta give you some pointers.” 

Delta lets out another whine, adjusting his hand on his porthole, moving it over as if to try and cover his face more, and when Sinclair laughs at him, Delta’s whine abruptly turns into his warbling chortle as he drops his hand, genuinely tickled by Sinclair’s teasing - not to mention excited by the prospect of finally being able to show affection with him, in the traditional sense.

Sure, it’s nice having Augustus sit in his lap and cupping his face in his big hands, but to be able to do more…normal things, like holding hands without worrying about crushing Augustus’s fingers, and cuddling on the couch instead of having to do it on the floor so that Delta doesn’t break the furniture, and…and kissing…and even more than that…Gosh…

Can’t pretend he hasn’t daydreamed about all of that, the kissing. Even as far back as the train ride around Rapture, sitting by Augustus’s side on the train bench as Augustus talked about this and that, he’s thought about what that’d be like. Now he’s so close to the prospect…

He hopes he’ll be a good kisser. Doesn’t want to let Augustus down, after all.

Subconsciously, he runs a fingertip over the edge of Sinclair’s lips, and Sinclair smirks and takes Delta’s hand, holding it in place to kiss that finger. The croon Delta lets out makes him grin.

“But that is another thing to consider, sweetheart,” Sinclair says, as if reading Delta’s mind, “you won’t hafta fear about handlin’ us anymore, either. No more bein’ scared of crushin’ us with your hugs or when we’re holdin’ hands. Even if you remain beefy, it can’t be as much as now, so,” he gives Delta’s finger a squeeze, “those worries will be a thing of the past, kid.”

Delta sings out another eager note.

Sinclair smiles and leans into him, nuzzling his cheek against the canvas of his suit, before looking up at him.

“So…how’re we feelin’ about that surgery now, chief?”

With a new surge of confidence, Delta straightens up the best he can while still supporting Sinclair, puffing out his chest and putting the hand that had held Sinclair’s legs to his hip. He won’t let this surgery get the best of him, for sure - he’ll beat it, he’ll beat the recovery process, and he’ll be right as rain!

“That’s it, sugar,” Sinclair says with a proud grin. “You jus’ put your faith in Tenenbaum, jus’ like I put mine in you, and this whole thing will just have been a bad dream.”

Delta jolts softly, then pinches a piece of his suit from his chest, gesturing to it, then waves his hand between himself and Sinclair. He makes another ‘cut it out’ gesture, grunting in the negative, and Sinclair thinks he understands.

If I wasn’t like this, we wouldn’t be here now, together.

Sinclair winces at that kind of talk, considering how Delta ended up in that suit, but he smiles at Delta’s point of view all the same.

“Well…I suppose that’s a fact…But like I said, the suit don’t make the relationship. Don’t you put a thought into how it affects us - cause you an’ me, honey, we’re in this for the long haul.”

He leans up then, and pushes a soft kiss to the glass of Delta’s helmet.

Touched, Delta presses his fingers to the bottom of his porthole, where his mouth should be, then touches Sinclair’s lips, to transfer a kiss. Then, nearly bursting with the love he has for Augustus, Delta brings him in again for another tight, warm cuddle, giving his rumbling purr as he does his best to nuzzle his helmet against him. 

Sinclair chuckles and returns the sentiment, shuts his eyes and basks in the warmth from Delta’s body, the fire still crackling beside him, and the blanket that’s wrapped around him like a cocoon, some of it trailing off from Delta’s hip.

After several long moments of holding the pose, Delta draws back and points towards the window.

“What’s that, pumpkin?” Sinclair says, prompting Delta to repeat himself. “Hm? The town? Aw, you want me to give an audio tour, in preparation for your visit?”

Delta grunts in confirmation, then gets himself comfortable for the talk.

“Alright. So, one of my personal favourite stops is the bakery, as is obvious. They got this peach cobbler there that is just to die for, you’re gonna love it. An’ not to mention their lemon bars, oof. Oh, and another thing they got…” 

Feeling content and loved, Delta listens to Sinclair talk for hours, with nary an anxious thought of tomorrow’s events in his mind - he’s far too excited to be scared now.

[whumpcloud]

Delicate - As If

content: (institutionalised) pet whump, carewhumper, it as a pronoun, memory of a death threat, fear of being beaten or belted, alcoholism, chronic illness, brief discussion of death

Elio absolutely didn't want this. He didn't want a lot of things, he didn't want therapy or a support group or Sofia to keep bothering him, but he definitely didn't want a Pet.

The Pet looks up at him, quiet, like it wouldn't mind waiting forever if that's how long it took him to speak. It. Should he really be referring to it as it? Would it be stupid to ask a Pet what its preferred pronouns are?

Elio groans. He feels like he should be doing something. Should he order it to do something? Or think of rules? Does he even want to give it rules?

It's not the Pet's fault. But the silence and the staring and the stillness is starting to freak Elio out. He should send it back. Oh God, but what if it gets sent to some sicko or someone who hurts Pets or-

No justification is going to make him feel like any less of a creep if he keeps it.

"Master?" The Pet says softly. It knows it has no permission to speak, but it understands that it's supposed to take care of its owner. "Are you okay? Is there anything I can do for you right now?"

Master. Elio sticks out his tongue, as though just hearing the word burned the inside of his mouth.

"Don't… call me that," Elio says.

The Pet doesn't miss a beat. "I could call you Sir, if that would make you more comfortable?"

"M-My name," Elio says quickly. "Just call me by name. Elio."

"Oh." The Pet pauses for the briefest of moments. "I was trained not to call people by name. I'm sorry. I'll do my best, if that's what you want. It'll just take some getting used to."

"Trained not to--" Elio interrupts himself and sighs. "Fine. Sir is… fine."

"Yes, Sir," the Pet says, and gives him a small smile. The Pet can tell that its owner is feeling stressed, and it does its best to offer comfort, before it has to resign itself to a beating or belting. "Do you need anything, Sir?"

Elio fidgets with his sleeve. This Pet is his now, as much as he hates it. And it's right in front of him, so there's no way he can get rid of it now. He's going to kill Sofia for this. How could she get him a Pet? Now he has to deal with a whole other person in his house.

Oh, fuck. It's a person. Elio knows all the advertising around Pets - they're volunteers, they want this, it's all perfectly legal and legitimate. But that's just a human person kneeling at his feet. Elio shudders.

"...Sir?" the Pet says. Its owner keeps spacing out. Perhaps that's something the Pet is meant to deal with? "Please don't take this as me being rude, but are you listening to me?"

The way it hesitates makes Elio's heart sink. This is awful. What did they do to you?

Elio needs a drink.

"I- I'm listening," Elio says stiffly.

The Pet happily repeats itself. "Do you need anything, Sir? Or is there anything I can do?"

Happily repeats itself. Elio searches the Pet for some hint that it isn't entirely willing to do anything and everything that Elio says, but he finds none. Elio could probably ask it to do a backflip and it would eagerly break its neck trying.

"Tell me your name," Elio says abruptly. It doesn't even occur to him that this is now the third time he hasn't answered the Pet's question. "I- I should at least know the name of my Pet."

"I don't have a name, Sir," the Pet replies. Its voice is so small. "My name is whatever you want it to be. But I could tell you the name my old master used, if you'd--"

"You don't have a name?" Elio interrupts. How does it not have a name? Do Pets give up their names when they sign everything away? "And yes, tell me what name that sicko gave you so that I can never say it again."

Fucking hell, Elio, you didn't even let it finish talking.

The Pet uselessly opens and closes its mouth for a moment, before speaking softly. "My old master called me Darling, Sir. But don't feel like you have to give me a name. I'll respond to anything that you call me."

Elio wants to apologise. Surely he scared it by raising his voice like that? But its expression hasn't even twitched. Just gentle neutrality.

"Darling," Elio says flatly. "That's gross. God, uh…"

He has to give it a name. A real name, a name for a person, but he's coming up short. Pet. Pet. Peter?

"Peter," Elio mumbles. "What do you think of Peter?"

"That's a nice choice, Sir," Peter nods. "Thank you for naming me."

"Thank you for naming me," Elio mutters. "Jesus. Um. Pronouns. What are your pronouns?"

"I don't mind, Sir," Peter replies. "My old master used he or it."

"...yeah, I'm not… gonna call you it, then." Elio rubs his eyes and takes a deep breath. He's never had a stronger urge to get drunk than he does right now. "He. Peter, he."

Peter smiles again, and thank God, because the blank expression was going to drive Elio up the wall. He hates it, and a horrible part of him knows it's because it forces him to face the reality that there is a trained person at his feet.

Peter is just happy to be named. He would never, ever admit it, but he envied people and other Pets with real names. Of course he liked Darling, it was what Master liked. But Sir likes Peter, and Peter likes this name more. He gets to be Peter now.

"What were you supposed to do?" Elio asks. "Like, with your old master. What did he make you do?"

"I cleaned the house, I reminded him to take his medication, I gave comfort and support when I was needed, I deterred him from risky behaviour, and otherwise I followed whatever orders I was given," Peter says, easily listing off tasks. "But I was trained to do a lot of things, Sir. I'm sure I can handle whatever you ask me to do."

"Right," Elio mutters. "Sure."

Elio doesn't need a caretaker. He's perfectly capable of taking care of himself. Sofia overstepped, buying a Pet for him. But he has Peter now, and Peter looks so desperate to do literally anything that Elio is starting to feel bad for contemplating just ignoring him.

Is Sir mad at him? Peter isn't sure. But Sir definitely seems mad at something, and doesn't seem comforted by any of Peter's small actions.

"Sir, you seem stressed," Peter says. "May I sit in your lap? I've been told that my presence is comforting."

Elio eyes him, as if expecting him to have some ulterior motive. As if Elio even believes Peter would be capable of that.

"Sure," Elio shrugs. "Fine."

Peter is surprisingly tall, but curls himself up tightly enough that he fits into Elio's arms. He isn't as thin as other Pets that Elio has seen - in fact, he seems very well-taken care of overall, aside from being gauntly pale.

"Why are you here and not… with your old master?" Elio asks suddenly.

There's a crack in the facade. The tiniest crack, but a crack nonetheless. Peter's face falls, but only for a moment. It happens so quickly that Elio wonders if he might have imagined it.

"He died, Sir," Peter whispers. "Would you like to know the details?"

Peter swallows. He hopes Sir won't ask about this. Peter is very good at suppressing the few emotions he's allowed to feel, because they matter far less than his owner's emotions, but the only reason they labelled him defective at the shelter was because he couldn't- wouldn't stop crying when they asked about Master. What if Sir thinks he's too defective and sends him back after all? After everything Darling did, he doesn't want to go back, he doesn't want them to realise what a bad Pet he is and send him to be wiped.

"Nah," Elio mumbles. "I just wanted to know what happened."

Peter holds in the gasp of relief and just nods gratefully. Darling was a bad Pet. But Peter, Peter can be the perfect Pet for Sir, and Peter will never, ever hurt Sir, and Peter will hope that Sir is kind enough (and frankly, the bar is on the floor) that Peter can keep smiling and suppressing and maybe even forget there was ever a moment where he didn't.

"Do you want something to do?" Elio asks, sighing softly. "You look restless."

Peter quickly looks up at him. "I can keep sitting here if you'd like me to, Sir."

"Nah, you can… uh… clean the flat," Elio says. "I guess. If you want chores."

Peter lights up. "Of course, Sir! Thank you for giving me the opportunity to be useful to you. How deeply would you like me to clean?"

Elio shrugs. "Just, uh. Don't make it just look clean, but I'm not asking you to, like, wash the walls or pull out the furniture."

"I understand, Sir," Peter smiles. "Is there an order you'd like me to clean in?"

"...nah." Elio is suddenly feeling a little embarrassed. "Don't, uh, don't make fun of me for how messy it all is."

Peter just stares at him. "Why would I make fun of you, Sir? That would be disrespectful."

"...right," Elio mutters. "I'm gonna take a nap, I think."

"Would you like me to get you some blankets, Sir?" Peter asks.

"Nah." Elio shifts to get comfortable. "I can fall asleep just about anywhere."

Peter nods. "Enjoy your nap then, Sir. I'll do my best not to wake you."

Peter breathes a sigh of relief when Elio falls asleep near-instantly once Peter gets up. He's so thankful that Sir won't be breathing down his neck while he cleans, making sure he does everything perfectly. He understands why Master had such high standards, Master needed things to be completely spotless for his health, but he likes that Sir doesn't need that.

Peter feels like he's breaking a rule when he enters Sir's bedroom, but Sir hasn't set any rules for cleaning, so Peter thinks it's okay. Peter tries to take his time - Sir didn't even set a time limit! - so that he can try to relax a little, but he's too used to cleaning quickly.

He finds empty cider bottles in the storage compartment underneath Sir's mattress, and bites his lip. He wouldn't think anything of it, if there weren't seven of them, if they weren't hidden. Peter… doesn't like drunk people.

You know what would be happening if I wasn't piss drunk right now? I'd be beating you to fucking death.

Darling quickly blinks tears out of his eyes. He doesn't cry, not unless he's told to. Crying is useless for a Pet like him.

If Sir drinks a lot, then Peter can take care of him however he needs. Whatever Peter thinks of it is completely irrelevant. He has a purpose.

A sudden sound starts to ring through the house, and Peter does nothing more than calmly return to the living room to find the source. Sir's phone is blaring an alarm but he isn't waking up.

"Sir?" Peter says, gently shaking him. "Sir, your phone is going off."

Elio's face scrunches up. Why is there someone shaking him?

Oh. Right. The Pet.

"It'll be my, uh, my glucose monitor," Elio mumbles. "God, that's why I'm so tired. What's the screen say?"

Peter looks over. "Low."

Elio sighs. "Can you get me, uh… there's Coke in the fridge. Since you're here."

Peter retrieves the can and hands it to Elio, who drinks half of it in just a few seconds, then nearly spills it putting it down on the coffee table. He mumbles a thank you.

"...Sir," Peter says, after a moment. "May I ask why you use a glucose monitor?"

"I'm diabetic," Elio replies, closing his eyes again. "...you know what that means, right?"

"Yes, I know what that means." Elio doesn't have to be looking to know that Peter has brightened considerably. "Do you need help with any part of that? I could remind you to take your insulin, for example?"

"I guess." Elio rolls over. "Ask me when I'm actually awake."

Peter pauses. "You'll need to check your blood sugar in ten minutes, Sir. To make sure that you're alright."

Elio groans. He almost says "then wake me up" but bites his tongue at the last second. He doesn't want to order Peter around for every little thing. That feels way too much like taking advantage of him.

As if being taken advantage of isn't the entire meaning of Peter's life.

Elio rubs his eyes and tries to stay awake.

taglist: @whumpsday @roblingoblin285

[pauking5]

Addicting Taste Chapter 10

Pairing: Enishi Yukishiro x female reader oc

Genre: strangers to lovers, mutual pining, found love, fluff, spice, a lot of teasing, angst

Word count: 45.1k

TW: panic attack, mentions of anxiety, unhinged violence, some gore, mentions of heights, a lot of cursing

A/N: I know this one was long overdue but she's here for you in all her glory and pain. She's been a constant work in progress for the past five months and it's all going downhill from now, so buckle up. I hope it's good and not a bore to go through considering she's long as hell but I thought you deserved the little extra treat for waiting so long. Lastly, don't hate me but this one's loaded emotionally. I had a few cries but more from editing it so many times that my eyes gave out. Chapter 11 is already in the works but she's gonna take a while. Not too long though *wink*. Hope you missed these three wimps as much as I have. Their team dynamic means the world to me. Sidenote: we are heading slowly to the rurouni kenshin the final verse soooon ;) Can't wait for you to read all that's coming. So, enjoy lovelies. Please send some sign of life through after you read so I know I didn't go off the fucking rails yet. Kisses and prayers :')

Playlist: espresso - sabrina carpenter, favorite - isabel larosa, queen - loren gray, lilili yabbay - seventeen, the boy is mine - ariana grande, training season - dua lipa, been like this - doja cat, tears in the club - fka twigs, i think i'm in love - kat dahlia, wicked game - ursine vulpine ft annaca, broken - seether ft amy lee, don't deserve you - plumb, words - skylar grey, these walls - dua lipa, hearts - jessie ware, lonely together - sofia karlberg, borderline - tove lo, theory of light - eternal eclipse, 5sos - teeth, within temptation - wireless, rescue my heart - liz longley, and so it begins - klergy

Previous

Asshole. Idiot. Rash, unpredictable, self-absorbed jerk.

You punched your pillow hard with every new word popping into your head that described the way Enishi acted moments ago at the breakfast table. There were a whole lot of insults and even more curse words running less and less wonderful with the growing upscale of your anger at the gray-haired man, but several questions popped in over them.

What the fuck happened to him?

I know he's a Gemini and two-faced behaviour is hard to hold back from, especially when you're being an unreasonable dick unable to interact with people. But this bipolar back and forth is too much, even for him. He's like a fucking riddle, so hard to decipher, figure out and understand, especially when all he does is close himself in like that, pushing people away like they're the plague.

He's jealous of something? Someone? Then just say that. Just say anything about your feelings so that I don't have to keep being the one assuming and wondering where you stand. Human beings like communication a lot, maybe he should try it sometimes. Sometimes soon before I put my foot through his face and carve some really nice indents under that jaw-

Jerk. Handsome, good-looking, impetuous little shit.

"UGH I WANT TO PUNCH HIM SO BAD!" you screamed into your pillow for the tenth time this morning. Koru just looked at you like you've grown a second head, choosing to retreat away to the safety of the other side of the bed.

"Damn, so you really are down bad for him."

Your head snapped to your door seeing the blonde leaning on the door frame, arms crossed over his chest and amusement ever-present on his face. He was enjoying your misery and these fucking pre-school games a little too much for his wellbeing. You spared him a look that you weren't in the mood for teasing then went back to digging a hole in your pillow, kinda hoping it would turn into a real one if you hit it harder from a different angle.

He walked over to your bed and sat on the edge just as you plunged your head deeper with a fresh wave of embarrassment hitting you like a truck.

"Is it that obvious?" your voice came out muffled.

At first, he chuckled lowly to himself at your conflicted appearance. Taking another look at you, he decided that he could push your buttons just a little more. "Want me to lie to you?"

Lifting your head briefly, you narrowed your eyes at him ready to smack him to the end of the planet in the hopes he would fall off into a black hole or something. But then you thought about it again and nodded your head, hoping he would come with some fresh new insight. Though you regretted it as soon as he opened his mouth.

"It's not obvious at all. Not like you're drooling over him all the time, chasing looks at him when he's not looking and sizing him up with your eyes for some fashion plans to revamp his really outdated and boring style," he counted on his fingers hitting every single point like he put his hand in your head pulling out your very own thoughts.

Not sure what you were expecting but it wasn't... this. If the hills weren't so far away, you would've happily ran up the slopes to the highest peak and walked off straight into the abyss of the valleys below by now, hopefully eating some grass on the way and dying. All because it really was that obvious to everyone else but not to him. That says a lot considering he's the one that goes around analyzing people and noticing stuff like a detector before you even know what goes on.

"Kill me now," you whined, crashing back into the pillow with a fake sob that sounded more like a mewl that even the feline next to you wouldn't be able to reproduce.

"Look, what he said back there was rash and a teeny tiny bit stupid," he started with a finger up in the air, but once you shot him a murderous look he recalculated his words and dropped it back down. "Okay, maybe extremely stupid. But give him the benefit of the doubt."

"Benefit of the doubt?" you sat up on the bed, appalled at what you were hearing. "You slept together in the same bed for one night and now you're suddenly not in a deathly competition to win my heart or something like that anymore?"

"Haha, I have no idea what you're talking about," he scratched the back of his neck, throwing his eyes around the room as if it wasn't identical to his own.

"I may be oblivious most of the time but I can read bullshit when I see it," you said sharp and clear. The authority made his eyes dart back to you instantly, his adam's apple bobbing nervously in his throat before he sighed loudly, shoulders dropping in defeat.

"Before you rip my head off," he reached out and put Koru between you as leverage so you wouldn't lash out on him, "just know he agreed to it too. He seemed pretty confident he could just kick me out of here if he won you over."

Motherfucker.

Was that all I was to him? Something to own? Just another sword to be displayed like a trophy in his office?

Having your suspicions confirmed that this shit was actually happening, with extra details too, was definitely not on your bingo card. He went too far. Actually, too far wasn't even fully describing how dumb this game he took part in was. You expected some shit like this from Cho because the cogs in his brain didn't always turn at a normal speed or to an intellectual degree higher than dolphins. No offense to dolphins, I adore them. But you did not expect this at all from him. Not after everything you've already been through. After opening up and being real with each other for him to throw it all on a fucking bet.

If this was his way of showing interest in you, he was doing it all wrong and backwards. Instead of winning you over, this would make him lose you. Completely.

Then it hit you. Your revenge plan could use a few adjustments. It was time you became this man's headache, raging when he least expected it, like an ever present reminder not to fuck with the female species.

Make that two men actually.

You turned to the blonde with a grin on your face stretching wider and much more creepier than your usual smile, telling him you were up to no good. And when you were up to no good, chaos ensued faster than a flint could light a fire.

It was time to play dirty. It was time to take over possessive misogyny with some pure, raw and unleashed female rage, plus some fun mind games because apparently these two fuckers loved them more than anything in the world. Unfortunately for him, but happily for you, the blonde sitting on your bed looking rather confused at your sudden change in behaviour will be the first to get a taste of it.

"What if you won me over?" you asked, physically batting your eyes at him, mentally rubbing your hands like a fly plotting to raise hell.

All he did was blink repeatedly, trying to process that those words actually left your mouth willingly. He must have thought someone put a hex on you or you were sick since he placed his hand on your forehead before you slapped it off, nearly shoving him off the bed.

"Say what again?" he asked cluelessly, tilting his head to the side.

I will repeat myself solely for the sake of my own sanity.

"Exactly what you heard," you clapped your hands together, meaning business. His eyes darted to your enclosed hands, narrowing in suspiciously as he listened in more attentively. "What if we make it seem as though you did win me over?"

"To make him jealous?" he pondered your words for a moment as you nodded eagerly. Seems like he wasn't that hopeless after all.

The way your eyes sparkled up at him told him two things - you really wanted to make mophead jealous for reasons he was able to see clearly on your face like the light of day, and the fact that he could use this to his advantage. Somewhere in this temporary play pretend, he could actually win you over and make you forget about him. It was a win-win situation either way. He was just surprised that you had it in you to join the game like that.

He took a while to gather his thoughts rendering you a little uneasy. Something told you that your motives weren't solid enough for him to accept the proposal. That he needed something more to cement it. So you threw in another side to the deal. One that was sure to get him going before you reeled back on your own plan.

"Help me," you took his hand in yours, stroking the back of it softly to appeal to his ego, "and I will grant you a wish."

"Can I wish for anything-"

"If it's something dirty-minded, freaky or horribly disturbing, your balls," you pointed at the crack of his pants, trailing your eyes up to meet his, "will be Koru's to play with."

Gulping and wide-eyed at your words, he looked down at the ball of black fur nuzzling his thigh lovingly then turned back to you, seeing absolutely no difference between your auras. Turns out adorable could also be lethal if touched wrong.

"Deal," he lifted a hand to you, tilting his head to the side with his usual goofy smile back on his face.

"Good," you shook hands, sealing the deal with your pinkies and a stamp. Just like old times.

His hand lingered on yours a bit more, long pinky and bigger thumb gripping your smaller ones gently, a lot more gentler than before. The rough boy he used to be, making empty promises he couldn't keep and acting like the world owed him everything was still there, but the mature man, a lot more sure of himself going after what he wanted was the one holding your hand now smiling warmly back at you. He did change.

Your smile slowly grew dim and shy as his golden eyes peered back at you, light and playful, enveloping you in his gaze, secretly swapping your fingers for your whole hand, sitting in a comforting hold in his bigger one. You realized he was right that night he pulled you on top of him, pressing your hand against his heart and yours, both beating almost in sync. He was still someone who took up space in your heart. Maybe not a whole half of it, but a part that was big enough to make you look at him too, as a man.

You were looking now and it would be one of the biggest lies you've ever told yourself to say that it didn't send your heart racing. There were unspoken feelings swarming in your chest even after all these years, not quite as strong but it was enough that they came back to life now.

Shaking yourself out of it, your hand fell from his large one back into the safety of your lap. Koru shimmied her way in between you, looking for head rubs and you obliged with a smile, focusing on her. Cho's hands joined in your peripheral vision, petting down the fur on her back. The feline started purring loudly, letting you know she was enjoying the double attention a bunch as you held back a chuckle.

Blondie wasn't off the hook yet. Your plan was to make both of them lose their heads and this was just one small part of it. In trying to pretend with Cho you would get Enishi jealous enough to hopefully talk to you about why he was acting like the douchebag of the century and maybe about his feelings towards you. He reacted more than he spoke, so this was your only shot at luring him out enough for him to act on it.

You would also take the blonde where he least expects it to make up for the constant teasing, though you were still considering if you were swerving towards gentle or wicked payback with him. Not so sure yet, but it was all in due time.

Either way, it was a win situation for you and a loss for them for behaving like animals in heat, treating you like a mere prize to be possessed.

They say you can see the worst in someone if you push them to the edge of the cliff. That's exactly what you were planning to do to them. Slow, hard and tense. Just the way they liked it.

You want to play power games, boys?

I will bring the fucking revolution to you.

Just you wait.

Twenty-four hours.

That's all you gave them to prepare for what they would never see coming.

You let them simmer, avoiding all contact with them. No cooking, no training and no sight of you around for the rest of the previous day. They went to each their own as you spent the day plotting your retaliation bit by bit, second by second, breath by breath.

They were on your land now, weaponless, rash and with a strong ballsy will to conquer it. Too bad they won't even reach the gates of your palace before you opened fire this time. Initiating phase one.

Getting out of bed, you headed for the heap of clothes stashed in your wardrobe and looked through it, smiling devilishly as you pulled out your secret weapon - a red and black corset mix of lace and satin mimicking a tank top. The red lace ran strident crimson against the layered black satin lines stitched overtop on the sides, from the hem all the way to the straps, tight as hell but hot on your upper body. A little fun project you let your hands wander over from scraps and basics you grabbed during your visit at the textile market.

Pairing it with black leather pants and a pair of flat combat boots, you went to the full-body mirror and took a good look. The outfit hugged your curves better than anything you've ever worn before, putting on display everything you wanted. Your hair hung in a luscious ponytail, high enough to whirl it once and catch someone around the throat with it. Perfect.

Time to get the wild hunt running.

Heading to the kitchen, your strides echoed in the hallway more sure of yourself than you've ever been. You grabbed a quick breakfast and sauntered outside with your humble companion, the jian sword with a red tassel. She's been sleeping in your room more than hanging back in its place on the walls in Enishi's office since you started bonding after she smacked your wrists multiple times. She left your skin painfully bruised but she gave you good lessons to learn from.

Taking to the spot in the middle of the garden, you sat in the patch warmed by the sun that still shone bright this late in the winter, just taking the light in and relaxing every knot in your shoulders. This is so nice. You held your palm out to it soaking the warmth in with closed eyes. Then you started training, waiting for the prey to come to you.

It wasn't long until the one of the felines caught your scent, coming to circle the perimeter in search of you.

The blonde hyena approached first, lurking by the kitchen window for a cup of coffee. Still in a slumber state, he paid no attention to the rest of the world or to you training outside, just a glance away, and went about his morning routine. He brewed his coffee the way he liked it, black with a lot of sugar in it and the tiniest drop of milk and stirred it well, taking in the smell of the steamed roasted beans that woke him a little. He lifted it to his lips just as he turned around to the kitchen window, coffee cup stilling mid-air before he even took a sip.

There you were - clad in red and black, hair swinging in sync with the red tassel on your sword, practicing what looked like advanced sword techniques. Leaning back on the marble island behind him, he took a sip of his coffee simply watching you, lips sobering up into a grin.

You moved about with the grace of a deadly cobra, a total contrast to the quiet small snake you used to be. A sense of pride filled him as he recalled how you used to doubt your every step, calculating them over and over again every mission you went on. Now, you stepped with confidence knowing exactly where your strengths laid, training with a weapon that was foreign to you entirely but knowing exactly where you wanted your blade to hit and how you wanted it to hurt. The lost, confused girl that tingled his senses years ago, was now a strong woman his heart longed for even harder.

His princess. It was part of the reason he called you that - the fact that you were still so committed to do good by vengeance in hopes it would help someone live in peace if you got rid of some of the scums crawling the earth like kings. And to tease you. Although, there was one more reason for it and one day, he'd tell you why but it wasn't time yet. Soon enough.

Before he knew it, he was on his way to the office, checking to see it was empty of a certain silver fox he despised with every single bone in his body, before he went in and grabbed the twin katanas he spotted a few nights ago. He rolled them around to get a feel of their weight. They weren't his twin katanas that got broken in a fight long ago, these ones much heavier and dull, but they would do for now.

You were taking a break on the ground, stretching your limbs around to release some tension when the blonde joined you. Confused at why he was carrying a pair of katanas with him and the fact that he wore preppy clothes, much more appropriate for training than waltzing around, his hair tied up in a small up-do peeking over his head like a pineapple, you threw him a look.

"Let's train together," he simply said, throwing you that cheeky smile of his.

One bites the bait.

Without a word, you got up dusting off the dirt and grass from your pants and got in position. He followed, twirling around the swords to show off at which you rolled your eyes, then put his right arm forward and his left backwards and you grinned, recognizing his point of combat hasn't changed - he used one sword for attacking and the other for defending, both probably stolen from Enishi's stash.

"Nice toys you got there," you nodded at the swords.

"Why thank you! I got them from your boyfriend."

"He's not my boyfriend," you gritted out, circling him around the sunlit path.

He lifted the sword in his right hand to eye level, tracing the blade down with the pads of his fingers as if to intimidate you or something. "You know, he does seem to act like that most of the time."

"What?" you stilled, lowering your sword.

What the fuck is he on about?

Pleased that his remark made you drop your guard, he turned his blade to catch a glint of the sun that temporarily blinded you before he charged towards you opening the sparring session with his right katana coming for a slash across. Cunty move. You defended with your jian, catching the rough blade with the edge of your own, pushing the attack back before he could send the other one towards you.

He stumbled behind to catch his footing and you couldn't help a small smile from dancing on your lips. He seemed to forget those weren't his katanas, way too unbalanced since they haven't been used probably ever for anything other than décor on Enishi's walls. Most of them were blunt, stolen or brand new, but none of them saw the actual battle beside his and your jian. They were different from his own by a lot of degrees, blades way too wide turning the weight heavier. As a result, he grappled with keeping them balanced as they constantly fell out of his grip. But being the renowned sword thief that he is, he solved that problem rather quickly and accommodated to them.

Giving them another swirl, his whole body turned in a spin that lifted the leaves off the ground. Then he came at you again more sure of himself this time to send a faster diagonal slash to your side that you barely avoided. You jumped backwards just as the other katana came down to strike you instead colliding harshly with your sword, pushing against it as he tried to shove you off your feet but you stood your ground.

"Why are you holding back, princess?" he sneered, teasing you without an ounce of strain in his voice. His constant pleasure pushed you to the brink of impatience.

"I don't want to skewer you just yet, blondie," you replied, flashing him a cocky smile before you rolled forwards in a tumble, letting his sword fall into the grass, getting stuck in a small muddy patch.

Before he was fully facing you, you threw your double-edged blade at him with precision. The speed of your attack had him throw both his katanas up in defense at every hit you delivered, diverting them left and right. Where you hit your blade high into his right, you kicked the other low with your foot, keeping the same drill going as you shoved him all the way into the open tree line at the back of the garden.

Another push from you had his back pressed against an old oak tree. He barely slid out of your range of attack just before your blade could meet his neck, getting stuck in the raunchy tree bark. While you struggled with getting it out, he disappeared and hid among the dense tree line, making himself completely invisible to you.

Plucking your sword out, you advanced through the half-barren path, dry leaves crunching under the pressure of your boots. You came to a small clearing checking for any spots he could be taking cover in then stopped. You'll find him when he wants to be found. Closing your eyes, you focused all your senses into action, listening for any noise that could pinpoint his location. You knew he was watching you from somewhere waiting for you to give up your searching and head back, so all you had to do was sit there playing dumb to lure him out.

A loud icy gust of wind blew in, rustling up the branches and a neatly stacked pile of leaves in a corner to your left. Disregarding it, you turned to the opposite side knowing that was his cue to charge at you. You moved to the left just as a sharp whoosh echoed by the tip of your ear, throwing your sword up to meet his attack blade. He brought down his other one swiftly sending you into a tree. You grunted as your back crashed with the bark, praying the rough edges didn't pull the stitch work on your top. One thread loose and I will end him in the name of fashion.

He advanced to you again looking to throw you off your feet with a swing, moves threading to get an opening somewhere that you weren't guarding well. If he thought you would go down easy, he sure was as dumb as a rock. You ducked out of the way, running towards one of the sturdier-looking trees and using the momentum from the dash, you jumped onto the bark pushing with the sole of your foot at the same time you swung your sword overhead, coming down onto him from above. A little trick stolen from Enishi. Since your aerial needed more work he caught your strike with both katanas tossing you to the side, back on the patch of open grass in the garden. You landed on the pad of your knee, sword balanced behind you to keep you from toppling over.

Aerial class with Enishi is officially suspended. He's lucky I don't pay for that. He'd have amazing reviews for sure.

"Someone's feisty today," he sung walking over to you, one katana swung over his shoulder nonchalantly like he didn't just haul you over like ten meters over.

"You haven't seen me feisty yet," you retorted, up and heading for his throat.

This time, you worked with a combination of slashes, using your smaller form and improved stamina to throw him off balance and prove a point. It worked, seen as he kept stumbling over his steps unable to keep up with you, but only for a while.

You were faster than him, much faster than he would've liked to admit without letting it affect his own pride. But he had the extra experience on the field. When your blade went to dig into his side, he pushed it away almost instantly, like he expected it, whirling around you. Your sword was half-way lifted up, ready to turn around and search for him, when a katana flew in your line of sight under your chin stopping just a few inches short of slicing your neck, the other following suit around your waist.

"Gotcha, princess," he whispered in your ear, stepping closer behind you.

He had you completely caged in his hold. The blades didn't sit too close to do any damage, but the fact that he pressed to you firmly from behind was enough to make your insides twist with flurries of all kind.

You could sense his amused smirk from the way his breaths fanned the back of your neck, which was already burning hot with effort, hair on your nape raising at the cool air and his breath. He was ready to throw you another remark when you caught him by surprise.

"Teach me," you breathed out, trying to steady your racing heart from giving anything away. "Teach me how to fight with two swords."

He chuckled under his breath, entertained by the idea. One of the blades lowered down, letting your middle free but your feet stayed locked in place, waiting for him to move the other away. Instead of that he took one more step taking him even closer to you and tilted your chin upwards with the hilt of one of the katanas. You shuddered at the sudden contact with the cold edge of the blade, squeezing your eyes shut to control the erratic beating of your heart.

"I can show you a few tricks," he spoke next to your ear low and deeper than his tone sounded on the usual, sending weird chills down your spine, then moved away from you just as a sigh of relief escaped you.

You put your sword down in the grass as he motioned for you to come closer to him. He placed the heavier katana in your right hand, knowing that was your main combat hand, and the slightly leaner one in your left. You tested them in a few swings, finding it difficult to push them forwards in a slash without dropping them. Those things are heavyweights. How the hell did he even spar with these? His twin katanas were a lot more lighter on hold than these.

Stepping behind you, he pulled your arms upwards horizontally so they sat parallel to each other, sliding his hands over your inner biceps all the way to your forearms. His warm fingers padded over your skin with electricity sparks in his dive down to lock his palms on your wrists, covering them completely. If he wanted to he could just snap them broken with one move.

Since he was taller and towered over you, you were pressed flush against his torso, the top of your head reaching just below his jaw. You could headbutt him and crack his jaw if you wanted to.

He moved you around in the basic one-sword positions to accommodate the feel of the blades in your hand. "You need to find balance and patience with them."

Lifting your leading arm for a practice slash to the side, you focused on the way he led the blade from the top all the way to the ground in all but one breath, followed by your rear with force pressing on your wrist as if you defended an incoming enemy blow, bending your arm diagonally with his own, moving as one.

His forearms stretched over yours entirely to better control the practice swings since you struggled to hold them by yourself, not used to their exertion on your muscles. You watched the ramifications of muscles on his arm move together in sync, willing yourself to focus on the blade in your hand rather than the way he enveloped your whole form.

"Treat them like they're your own hand extensions," he instructed, laying both of them over each other in a front cross for defense. The motion brought your bodies closer, your back almost fully in his chest.

Your head turned to the side to find his own already angled towards you, light brown eyes searching yours for something. He was so close, holding you in an embrace that felt dangerous but safe, awfully resembling those ivory statues of fallen angels around cemeteries that curled their wings inwards as if to protect something. You were aware that being this close to him was dancing on delicate grounds, both for yourself and for him. It wasn't good. Whatever this was it couldn't happen, thundered your mind. Or it could, argued your heart. I'm not doing that charade ever again, a thought that echoed just how torn you were. You loved that charade, yelled back a younger version of you that would pray at the moon for him to look at you like this.

Avoiding his eyes took a lot of willpower, but you managed to turn your head away from him looking for a distraction. Anything that could break you out of the trance he put you under again that spurred something way too fervent and filthy in your belly, before you said or did something stupid that you would regret.

Perusing the juniper grass around the garden, you let your eyes run free to any place that looked more interesting as if you haven't been in that garden a thousand times before. They went all the way to the outdoor table preoccupied with the sheet of material thrown over to protect it from rain when movement caught your eye in the alabaster kitchen windows. In a fraction of a second, your eyes flew there and stayed fixed inside, heart getting stuck in your throat.

He was there.

Watching. Steeling in the silence of the kitchen with his arms crossed over his broad chest, looking right at you. Not at the man behind you or the way he was holding you so dangerously close or the way he breathed the same air as you. At you.

He was yards away. Not in front of you or next to you. Yet the intensity of his stare alone made you draw in a broken breath, heart pounding unsteady in your chest with every beat that passed with him still sitting there, unmoving, gaze unwavering from you in the slightest. Goosebumps littered your whole skin, rushing from your nape down to your lower spine in ardent shudders, forgetting all about the man behind you whose arms still held yours in a firm grip.

A clenched jaw. For a good moment that was the only reaction you got from him. Then he did something completely odd - he smirked at you. A knowing, full, almost pleased corner of his lips tilting up in a promise of mischief and disaster kind of smirk. Of all possible reactions you expected, a fucking smirk like that one was not it.

You blinked once and just like that he was gone, probably aware of just what that insufferable smirk left in its wake because it made something pulse deep down inside of you, so primal and fiery like it sat dormant for an entire lifetime, waiting to set alight and rage only for him. Something that came alive every time those dark eyes were on you. A feeling that you loved and hated with your entire being.

Both of them took the bait, I guess.

But what the fuck was that?

The cold evening rolled around sooner than you expected it to, without any other contact with the male species, surprisingly. You went to the kitchen, cooking up some dinner for yourself and Koru, letting your thoughts whirl with the ingredients you stirred mindlessly in the pot.

You couldn't take your mind off the way your taunts were received today. For one, Cho reacted exactly the way you wanted him to, running to your side absolutely ecstatic to join you in training. Getting so caught up in practicing sword wielding with him however, was a small unplanned detail that made your heart flutter. It wasn't part of the plan but then again, does anything under the roof of this house ever go according to plan?

On that note, Enishi's reaction was something you were unprepared for at all. Lurking in the shadows like a ghost stalking his victims, he just threw you that smirk as if he knew what your intentions were, where your plan was going. It gave you the eebie-jeebies and not in a good way. You stared at your reflection in the kitchen window, thinking so intently about how he stood in the same place as you that his stare flashed in front of you again like it was happening right now, making shivers cross your body on all sides. You dropped the spoon in your hand with a loud clatter that brought you back from your eerie vision, mumbling curses as you scrambled to get it out of the pot before it sank completely. You got it out with another spoon throwing it in the sink before the heat singed your fingers, then leaned your hands on the counter hanging your head to breathe a sigh of relief.

Jesus Christ, this house seriously needs an exorcism. I need to ask Wu for a frankincense delivery because it's getting too freaky lately.

The door to the kitchen opened and closed behind you, signaling that you had company. Turning around you were met with the blonde, a small smile of content on his face as he approached sheepishly and sat near the stove, a few inches away from you. He loomed over the pot, taking a good whiff of what you were cooking with his eyes closed - sausage and potato stew. His favourite.

Now this was by no means phase two of the plan. You didn't mean for it to happen, but it was the only edible thing you could whisk up with what little you found around the kitchen. A shopping spree into the village was way overdue, since apparently it's only your stomach who is hungry 24/7 on rotation. Definitely not the thirty bulky men lurking around the mansion waiting for food to magically drop out of the sky.

You had a hunch he would catch onto the smell and come running anyway. His eating schedule was as bad as Enishi's - they were either skipping meals to train or eating three meals at once like it was an olympic sport. There was literally no in between. Blondie however has been asking you to cook stuff for him at random times of the day lately, catching a liking to your cooking. Plus, you bonded a lot over food when you first met so it was no surprise he was inhaling the steam from the stew like it was opium smoke or something.

"Can I have a taste?" he asked in a tone so soft you almost cooed.

"It's not done yet," you replied pushing him away from the stove before he plunged his head in, stirring the pot some more.

You caught sight of the way he licked his lips, absolutely bewitched by the simmering food and you gave in. Who were you to deny a hungry tummy? Food tasted better before it was put on a plate anyway.

Leaning behind to get a spoon from the cutlery drawer, you stirred the pot with it and gathered a good spoonful from the side with some of the stew ingredients that looked cooked and some sauce. You blew on it, carefully lifting the still steaming spoon to his mouth with a hand under it in case it spilled over. He dove in and slurped the contents way too fast. This fucking idiot.

"MY TONGUE," he screeched, flailing about like a child, fanning his tongue with his hand as if that helped anything.

I refuse to believe he is the famed Sword Hunter. He belongs in kindergarten.

Some of the leftover sauce dripped down the side of his lips and before you could help yourself, your hand lifted to them, thumb swiping over the plump pink mounds from one corner to the other, tracing their outline as you gathered all the sauce on your finger. Mindlessly, you brought it back with the intent to reach your lips when your thumb was redirected back to his own lips.

You froze in his hold yet again, watching wide-eyed as his tongue slipped out to meticulously lick your thumb clean from bottom to top on each and every side, all while holding your eyes hostage to his honey orbs. Taking an empty gulp of air, you tried to keep your face composed, devoid of any sign that the scene before you that looked like a hallucination from the depths of your mind, affected you in any way. Because it did. You pressed your knees to keep it together, willing your heart to still in your chest and the throb between your legs to chill. This was not the time to get horny. Get your ovaries together, Miyu. You're better than this.

The kitchen door opened again with a crick, prompting you to snatch your hand away from the blonde's hold, stepping away to put some space between you. The feel of his soft lips trailing up and down your finger with his tongue lingered, only making it all worse. Curse men. Then your eyes flew to the door to see the gray-haired man sitting by the frame, face drawn in calm, tranquil disparity, devoid of any emotion, just looking at you with those dark eyes of his.

Damn, he's so emo today. Genuinely concerned, did someone piss in his tea this morning? 'Cause I would've liked to be first.

You were fully aware that he caught you in the act yet again. But why did it bother you so much? Why did it bother you that he wasn't reacting at all? Did he give up on the bet and winning you over? That was hard to tell. Either way it was nothing short of an oddity, seeing him stand there just observing playing some sick and twisted game alone in his head.

Weirded out and confused, you turned back to the simmering pot announcing the stew was almost done. The two walked to the table at the other end of the kitchen, taking a seat on opposite sides. They regarded each other briefly with a scowl, before they both turned to watch you work on the food.

Humming to yourself, you swayed side to side as you stirred the pot, stew nearing its boiling point. It was late evening, but your ponytail still sat high on your head since early morning, not one lump falling loose from it. Your apron sat snug on your waist, letting the red lace on your back be visible on purpose. Let phase two commence then.

The intensity of their stares carved a trail of open caves on your behind, each one digging his own personal hole with unsaid things in a dent of muscle they liked better down your back. You could feel the tension hanging in the air, zapping chills on your nape, but you paid it no mind for your own peace of mind because only god knew the dirt you imagined right now including both of the men at your back.

Enishi watched you, fist tightening under the table more and more with every sway of your ponytail that fell in sync with the sway of your hips. For some reason, that ponytail raised all senses of possessiveness in him. He wanted to pull that hair tie off and throw it into a fucking fire with every other existing band or fabric to tie it up, his only wish to let your hair free from its grasp and watch it cascade down your shoulders, wild and messy, just the way he liked it.

Cho's thoughts echoed the same pictures, though in a gentler, more sensual parallel. The blonde wanted that hair tie off too, thinking of how smooth your hair would feel with his fingers carding through it for hours on end as he drew patterns down your bare back and watched goosebumps rake your form.

That ponytail was their undoing.

Unaware of their thoughts turning as lewd with lust as yours, you focused on the stove. You thanked whatever deity makes you double the food quantities every time you cook because you had just enough stew to split it into three filling bowls.

Fixing the table up with the food and cutlery, you placed Koru's plate with her own chicken mix down by the marble island before you went to sit down at the head of the table, a safe distance from both of them. They waited for you to dig in first before they followed, a silent thanks giving for sharing your food with them. They were far from deserving of it considering how they behaved lately, but you weren't going to turn a hungry stomach away. You knew better than that.

The three of you ate in silence, tension gliding through the air in the kitchen uncomfortably, stabbing your exposed skin like a drifting torrent. Stolen, sneaky glances made their way to you but whenever you turned to catch them they were focused on the food in their bowls. Shaking the rigidness away, you pulled up a tactic to the table - playing with your ponytail.

Sitting back in your chair, you lifted a hand carding through the hair from the top of your makeshift hair tie, where it sat tight, with a languid stroke, falling to the base of it, twirling the ends around your fingers. Both males stilled, looking right at the way you worked around the length, drinking in every swirl of the locks glowing silky and luscious in the soft golden light above you. You had them wrapped around your fingers, their full attention not even on you but entirely on your hair.

The minute you let go of it, going back to eat the rest of your food, they grunted in unison at the loss of their visual stimuli. The sounds had them locking eyes, one pair dark and blazing with murderous intent, the other amused and light in teasing, both fighting each other in a battle with no clear winner.

Another point scored for me.

The rest of dinner was uneventful. You finished up on your food, getting up to walk to the sink and wash up everything. Cho followed right up, grabbing his plate and helping you put stuff back to its place to be done with it faster. You worked quickly with your new helper, since Enishi was rather absent from that role these days. Placing the last rinsed plate back in its cupboard, the blonde turned to you confused to see you with a cleaning towel.

"Let me do it," he reached out, grabbing the cloth to pull it his way.

"I can do it," you said, pulling it out of his grasp, back into your own.

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Thank you for the help," you nodded, sending a grateful smile his way. At least someone in this house was being helpful and not a killjoy.

Left with nothing else to do, he turned to leave when his eyes locked on the silver fox in the corner, still busy finishing his own food, but watching the interaction between the two of you, tongue poking his cheek, jealousy written all over his face. The blonde took advantage of his moment of weakness, spinning back to you in a heartbeat. Wide-eyed at his sudden proximity once again, you were about to ask him if he needed anything when he leaned down to your ear. The edge of his lips grazed the tip of your ear just like the did with your thumb, heart thrumming loud in your ears with his words.

"Lose the ponytail, princess," he said, voice dripping with sin twisting your insides together.

Satisfied with the lethal stare pointed his way and your puzzled look, he pulled away and turned around, leaving on his merry way. You stood there with a gulp stuck in your throat and cloth frozen in the air until the door shut closed, shaking you out of it. You turned to the island with the cleaning cloth just to get your breath caught in your throat for the millionth time today.

He was watching you again. That simple, infuriating and extremely loaded gaze he fixed on you rapped your pulse upwards, stealing your breath away. You couldn't avoid it no matter how hard you tried.

Say something, your eyes pleaded with him.

Anything.

Pure silence followed. None of you blinked or moved. A hopeful gaze from you. Nothing from him. Nothing at all. Just silence that cut through you like a sharp knife, willing you to fill it. But you had nothing else to fill it with. All your words spiraled in your head on a roulette but you couldn't pull the trigger on any of them. They were all too loaded, harsh, strong and heavy to be said or felt.

Stop looking at me like it matters, you shook your head in disappointment.

Koru's soft fur rubbed your leg bringing you back to reality seeing her walk out the door. Busying yourself as far away from him as possible, you got to cleaning the rest of the kitchen. You hated how easily he gave you icy chills and hot flushes simultaneously with just one damn look. You hated how your body soaked it in every time, like an addiction you could never lose. You hated how badly you craved his attention. You hated everything he made you feel right now.

Frankly, you stayed behind not for the need to clean, but to keep him company. You hated eating alone and he deserved at least that, even if you sat in different corners, to each their own, without as much as a word spoken between you.

When he was done with his food, he joined you at the sink next to where you worked on scrubbing the dried splotches of food from the stove. He washed his plate, rinsing it thoroughly, before he wiped it and put it back in its place. You finished on the stove and grabbed Koru's plate from the floor, storing the rest of her food away for later.

It was so domestic - how you worked around each other in the kitchen like it was a normal everyday occurrence. Although, now, your egos took away from the usual peace that came with it, the ritual feeling almost empty and tedious and not like something that relaxed you on the regular.

Turning on your heels, you came face to face with him, a hair's breadth separating you. Both of you just stood there, gazing at each other waiting for the other to make a move. His chest expanded, rising up with calm and collected breaths. Yours went rampant, trying to focus somewhere else that wasn't him. You were close to exploding this time. You needed to get to your room not stay here and play hooky with someone who couldn't talk.

For Christ's sake.

You moved away first, heading to the sink behind him to rinse the dirt from the cloth and place it back in its place. Passing by him without another thought, you rushed to get to the door, hoping to get out of there faster because if you stayed any longer you would implode.

You never reached the knob.

In one swift move you were lifted off the floor and place up on the kitchen island. In a heartbeat, the strong arms gripping your waist moved to cage you in their space, hips pushing between your thighs, opening them wider on each side. It all happened so fast that it sent your vision swimming but once you started breathing in the sweet musky jasmine scent, your eyes betrayed you, focusing on the perpetrator invading your senses.

From his long, slender fingers, your eyes started a long drive up the sinews of his forearms and the veins spreading in tendrils on top of them leading under the blue sleeves, taking notice of the angry twitch of dominance that made them more prominent as he leaned forward. Climbing up further, you took the crossroad to his shoulder instead of his chest, following the crinkled neck of his kimono.

That damn indigo kimono, matching the color of the darkened night sky behind him, that covered the whole trunk of his neck so chastely, leaving out just enough for curious wander. Your wander.

The things you wanted to do to that neck were for your lips to kiss and never tell. For your tongue to lick and drag over that lump in his throat and never stop. For your teeth to graze and bite until you had enough of him. Until all you could taste was him.

Averting your eyes from it, they landed on yours truly, falling down from that disheveled mop of hair you wanted to pull on without stopping as you devoured him, descending to those eyebrows drawn in vexation observing your shameless perusal, and finally settling on his eyes. Those eyes, pitch black obsidian blazing in the darkest fire you've seen, burning, staring right back at you. Luring. Tempting. Waiting.

Waiting for what?

Jaw locked tense, nose standing tall above the arch of his lips. Lips that haven't felt yours in so long. Lips your whole body has been aching for. Lips that were pursed in full control looking for something.

By the looks of it, he was determined to get something out of you by keeping you there in place on the cold marble. A reaction, a flutter, a falter. Anything that would tell him you gave into him tonight, even in the slightest, without as much as an effort from him.

And you took him in. The entirety of him. Stretching larger than you remembered him to be, broader than your closeness to his body could capture from this angle. This view alone made your heart pump a little faster, too fast to be normal, pushing you to drag an involuntary breath in. When you let it out, he spoke to you, for the first time in the last two days, taking that breath away from you just as quick as you released it into the air between you.

"You know I can fuck you right here if I want to, right?" he stated, his voice low and raspy, driving deep inside of you straight to the pulsing mound between your legs as he fixed your gaze.

I know you, echoed at the same time in your head.

That reminder was a constant voice in the back of your mind. That whatever you did with anyone else wouldn't fulfill you the way only he could. That only his voice could boil and melt the blood in your veins. That only his fingers could graze you on the inside and outside, both in sweet relief and anguish, separately and at the same time.

Your body craved to have him even now, completely enraged with him and willing to forget it for a while. To have him in every possible way that a mere mortal could, struggling to keep the control you worked up for the past two days to keep in your grasp.

It was bold of you to assume that a close encounter like this didn't make you feel anything, other than the slight tip of your foot downwards grazing the side of his leg.

But he was wrong to assume that you would submit to that powerful gaze like last time, even bolder to be certain that you didn't have some kind of advantage this time - the fact that you've denied him of you just like he denied you of him. I'll give you a taste of me. In my way.

Latching a secure hold on the front of his blue kimono, you kept his focused gaze as you undid the material around his middle with one swift pull of the loose, messy knot that kept him so closed off. Parting the sides away, you laid your hands flat against his abdomen. Agonizingly slow, you lead them upwards, feeling the depths of his toned form even under that heavy tank top you imagined ripping apart in so many different ways, reaching all the way to his ribcage. There, you felt him pull in a breath of his own, chest expanding open under your palms, holding the breath inside his pursed lips.

You caught him vulnerable, choosing to keep composed though the tick in his jaw told you he was close to losing it. The very breaths underneath your hands telling you that he was affected. You could feel his very heart at the tip of your fingertips, beating in a staggering rhythm.

It was your time to strike.

"Are you saying you don't want to," you spoke in a sweet whisper, smooth and saccharine like a shot of whiskey, as you trailed your right palm to the collar of the top, getting closer, under the unwavering gaze of his eyes turning a darker shade with your every move.

Your hands almost reached his neck. Cold fingers almost touched what looked like sizzling hot skin calling for your touch under the pale, small, flickering light behind you, when you saw something. So small but so unmistakable that if you blinked you might have just missed it. You might've been crazy, caught in the heat of the moment, but you definitely saw the slight bent of his head to the side, giving you more access to his neck, making that cursed vein more visible to you, uncovering it from the confines of the cotton surface.

You got closer, breath fanning over it dangerously close when he finally let a breath out. A full breathy, guttural, low groan. His hands gripped the counter edge harder, knuckles turning white in anticipation because in that angle he couldn't see you. He couldn't tell where you were taking this at all and he hated it. You could tell he did, smirking in satisfaction that you got him right where you wanted filling you up more than anything ever could.

And you stopped, removing your hands from his body, sitting back on the marble top, denying him once more.

The way his body recoiled backwards in response was a reminder that he had his shortcomings too. That he could act as dominant as he wanted, push you to the brink of insanity with as much as a stare, lay his touch on any inch of you he desired, but he couldn't put you out of the game. Him, of all people, would never be able to put your fire out. Because as much as he knew you, you started learning his ways too. You knew what made him tick, what kept him coming for more, what made his eyes sparkle with want. You knew him now. And it would take a lot more than this stupid game of his to make you unlearn all of it.

Though on the other hand, he did deserve a little token of, not appreciation per se, but a taster of what he was missing by being an idiot and placing a bet on your feelings.

So, you motioned him with your pointer finger to come closer to you. Hesitantly, he leaned down reaching your space again as you leaned up to his ear, tricking him into thinking you would whisper something else that would relay your desires to him in some way, only to bite down roughly on his earlobe, dragging it between your hungry teeth.

Once your lips were connected to his skin you wasted no time, moving from his ear under his jaw to lay eager open-mouthed kisses to the crane of his neck, quenching a thirst inside of you that was banished to the dessert for way too long. Finally savouring the moment you placed your lips on his skin like it was the last time you ever had the chance, sucking it hard and rough with the ravaging need of a wolf. This, was more for your own pleasure rather than his own, though it seemed to turn him on too.

His fingers unfurled from the edge of the counter planting themselves on each side of you, palms open fully on the marble top, greedy neck pushing into your lips to cover more, search more for the right spot, hips pressing into your lower body as he fell forward between your legs. He tried keeping in his grunts but the slower you went down his neck the less he could keep them inside. Struggling to abstain yourself from touching him, you lost that battle before it even begun.

Both of your hands sneaked under the blue kimono, going to his broad shoulders, gripping onto the bands of his tank top to pull him closer and move them under the material, feeling the mightiness of his toned body tense up under your palms. His pulse went rapid against your lips, grinning against his skin, relishing in the fact that you now knew you had the same effect on him that he had on you.

You sucked and nibbled relentless, hands climbing to his nape, fingers tangling in the curls at the back of his neck as you circled the whole area near that vein on the side of his neck, hearing him come undone inside with every grunt rumbling in his throat. But it wasn't where he needed you, the prominent, hard bulge in his pants tapping the inside of your thigh repeatedly, the more you drew him closer with your legs tangled around his waist.

If it was up to him, he would've had your bare stomach pressed against the cold marble, one hand gripping your jaw raw and rough as he bit off your lips, the other pulling your ponytail like a savage, fucking you blind by now. Rutting deep inside you, leaving his scent on every inch of your skin available on the outside, scorching every part inside of you that ached for him. Greedy and possessive like an animal devouring his prey.

But it wasn't up to him.

The power games shifted your way a while ago. You took his power away, rendering his bearings haywire and he didn't even notice. His power was fully yours now and you were willing to fight dirty and wild to keep it in your hands for as long as you wanted to.

When you felt his hand sneak up to your backside to reclaim some semblance control, you unglued your lips away from his neck, pulling away in a heartbeat. Like nothing happened. Like you weren't attached to his sweetest spot, teasing him just like he teased your own in the artillery room a few nights ago, playing his own game way more brutally and intense than he ever could.

Sitting back to get your breath under control, you took a good look at him this time. At his messy hair from how your fingers pulled on it, the side of his kimono falling from his shoulder unceremoniously, at the pale skin on his neck turning light pink from how hard you bit on it. His eyes were blown wide, still consuming the rest of the sensations you left on his skin, his breaths still running a lonely marathon that you abandoned bare moments ago.

"You're all talk and no action," you said, steady as you straightened your back and patted his chest, jumping off the kitchen island all in a beat, leaving him there scattered and defeated, exiting the kitchen with a wicked smile on your lips.

You made sure he knew just what he was up against the next time he even thought of playing around with you. He didn't give you the upper hand this time. You just took it before he even got a chance to win it. You made him see how it felt being manhandled dirty and raw, left at the height of it to deal with it by yourself, left bare and open for anyone to see.

He thought no one could dominate him, tame him, deny him. He was damned if he still thought that after tonight when he let all those supressed feelings show on his face. There was one person who could take him head on with absolutely no shame or remorse over their actions and it was you.

Mission accomplished!

Miyu - 2 points. Enishi - 1 point.

I could play this game all day.

The morning arrived slowly, lazy like a warm embrace in the hands of the still winter. Birds chirped outside your window as you rolled in bed to face the white, warm sunlight, a smile of satisfaction sitting on your lips as you stretched your hands overhead.

Is this how kings felt conquering something after years of battle?

You felt like a winner after the events of the previous day, still streaming in your head as proof of your conquest, especially with Enishi. Replaying the way he looked in the kitchen last night, folded and open to your desire, had you feeling like you added extra years to your lifespan.

Koru climbed in your lap, purring in delight to match your good mood. Before you could bask too long in the positive and the gratification of your hard work, since bringing men to his knees was no easy feat, the weight of something unknown settled in your stomach. You couldn't really put your finger on it but something was growing in there, gnawing at you impatiently to figure what it is. Maybe it was nothing. Or you were just hungry.

Shaking it away, you got out of bed with a smile and went about your day as normal.

Training outside in the warmth of the sun by yourself for a bit, your feline friend keeping you company as she chased butterflies around the garden trying to catch them but getting distracted by other flying insects.

Cooking some food from the quick groceries Wu managed to get from the market in the morning before he left in a rush. Though it was not much, it was enough for the gang on the grounds.

Cleaning your room up, an overdue task that proved grounding and calming. You moved some things around and made space for a work desk adjacent to the vanity, right in the sunlit corner of the room, to stash all your spare materials and tools away.

Most of the day went on, doing things by yourself and for yourself, often joined by Koru, with surprisingly no man in sight to disturb you in any way - mental, physical or emotional. It was pure bliss, calm, serene. Absolute peace to yourself for once.

The afternoon rolled in slowly, finding you snuggled up with a book you found in Enishi's library. He had a bunch of romance works in there that no one would be reading anyway, definitely not him of all people, or the killing machines guarding the place. So, you helped yourself to the shelves, taking as many that piqued your interest back to your humble abode.

You let the large cream windows in your room wide open to get some fresh air inside, kitten settled in beside you, playing around with a spare ball of thread.

Reading away, you were deep into a really good part in the book when that feeling creeped up on you again. You didn't know if the words you read triggered it or not but something did because a familiar heaviness sat on top of your chest, a little tighter than earlier in the day. You massaged your chest in hopes it was just indigestion, when Koru looked up from her temporary toy, placing a paw on your thigh with eyes wide in alert. As if she sensed something was wrong too.

"I'm fine, little one. I think I just ate lunch too fast," you smiled in reassurance. The feline abandoned her toy and came to sit against you, letting the ball roll to the end of the bed finding you much more interesting than the whirly thread.

You tried to get back to reading but that sensation just persisted in your belly, stirring your guts up into stressed nodes. Every time you tried to get past that line your mind would pause and not take it in at all. You were on your third read trying to absorb it when the air chilled around you all of a sudden. Looking up from the book to the windows, you caught the beginning of sunset, setting down over the nearby hill in pale yellow colors, most of the light that pooled in your room gone with a beige hue. You got up to close them just as someone stumbled into your room, throwing your doors open with a bang that startled the living daylights out of both you and your cat.

"There you were," spoke the blonde, rushing to take his recently designated seat at the end of your bed. "I've been looking everywhere for you today."

I guess that was more than enough peace to last me for a year.

You made your way back to the bed, taking back your comfortable spot against the pillows. Koru gave him a toothy hiss for his lack of manners then plopped in your lap.

"I was literally everywhere today," you stated as a matter of fact, stroking her soft. "What's up?"

He turned around to face you better, goofy energy on his face turning mellow as he regarded you for a moment. The spicy ensemble you wore yesterday was nowhere in sight today - to his relief - replaced by a champagne-colored oversized shirt and a pair of navy pants. Your hair was braided messily, falling down your shoulder with a few strands loose, tied sloppily at the end with a piece of fabric matching the dark blue shade of your pants. You were dressed like you again.

Blue wasn't his taste at all, preferring the browns and reds much more on you since they flattered no just your features but your personality. But he had to admit this dark shade did suit you, comfortably chic and elegant. If anything, mophead's obsession with the color rubbed off on you too and in a rather good way.

"You're staring," you snapped him back to attention waving your hand in front of his face. "If I didn't know any better, I would say you're falling for me, blondie," you joked.

"Something like that," he replied, flirty smile back on his face.

You grinned in response, unaware of just what he harbored in his heart for the past few years. If only you knew. If only he could tell you.

Marking the page you were on before you closed the book and put it to the side, you gave him your undivided attention, blinking up at him with warm eyes that paired up with your small tight-lipped smile, the one that made your dimples pop and cheeks puff up slightly. If hearts could make louder sounds than simply thrumming with a beat, his would roar like a tiger on his way to challenge the king of the jungle, which he was currently doing anyway.

"Come on, be serious for once," you pushed his shoulder playfully, feeling your cheeks tint pink from the way he looked at you.

He hoped you couldn't tell what that look meant because that one look alone spoke of love - the unconditional kind, like it's always been there, twinkling in his eyes like a promise he couldn't make out loud. Thankfully, you thought it was just one of his very sarcastic ones, grinning back at him all-knowing but so far from the truth of it that he just let you believe it for his own peace of mind.

"Tell me what's so urgent that you turned the devil's lair upside down to find me."

He grinned back at you, chuckling at your choice of words. Whatever you were reading had you soften up into a romantic and it wasn't doing him or his heart any good. He peeked to the side raising an eyebrow as he read the title of the book laying on the safety of your pillow before you caught up to him, attempting to block his view.

"Wuthering Heights?" he leaned over you and grabbed the book, getting up before you could snatch it back from his hold. "Since when were you so lost in love that two people losing their minds over each other is your go-to read?"

How does he know about this book? From what I know he isn't well-versed in anything intellectual, including reading.

"Since when do you read?" you questioned, following him around the room to retrieve your book.

"Since forever," he hummed, avoiding you and your tiny hands at all costs, grateful that you were smaller in height but annoyed that it meant you were very fast on your legs.

He dove into the corner between the vanity and the work table, right by the window, completely covered away from you and opened the book. Your hands wrapped around his waist to tickle him but that sneak attack didn't stop him from looking at the small paper notes neatly stashed inside, hanging on the side of almost every page. Reading some of them, his eyebrows hit his hairline surprised by your opinions to every chapter he landed on. "You annotated this?"

"Yes, now give it back," you snarled back. Leaving your tickle tactic, you threw your hands around him to grab it but he turned away to the window ledge leaning over it in a way that he was bent over it and his back was fully blocking you. You muttered a string of curses under your breath, cussing him out for being so tall. "Fucking street lamp pillar."

"I heard that," he laughed.

He rushed to the page you were on a few moments before he broke in the room, pushing his broad shoulders around to keep you behind him. Eyes scaling the pages, he rushed to the last line you marked halfway read, reading it out loud.

"If all else perished, and he remained, I should still continue to be. And if all else remained, and he were annihilated, the universe would turn to a mighty stranger," he recited, word for word, his previous attempt at teasing turning into seriousness by the time he reached the end of the line and the words registered.

Feeling like he intruded on something too personal, he took another look at the sentence, memorizing it. Something just told him to. Then he turned around and gave it back to you, genuine sincerity present in his eyes. Taken aback, you took it and went back to the bed.

"Why are you here?" you asked, tired of games and eager to get back to the book, plopping back down beside Koru.

He replied to you with a question of his own.

"Remember the bonfire night a few days ago?"

The night flashed through your mind from beginning to end, spinning the cogs in your brain a little too fast that it gave you whiplash. You did remember. The slow dancing to the crackle of fire, the heavy drinking, the sword debates like it was your local sword club night, carrying two very drunk people to their rooms only to have them cuddle in the same bed. Even the small half-spoken promises made in the dark with a tipsy conscience. You remembered all of it.

I wish I could forget some of it.

"What about it?"

"I know I was drunk-" he started before you interjected raising a finger in the air.

"I would say more than drunk." He shot you a look that indicated he wasn't finished yet. "Okay, continue."

"Among other things, I remember you making a promise that we were gonna talk. About... you know. Everything?"

There it was. One of the rushed, painful promises you made that night. Your hand stopped petting Koru, luscious fur warming up under your frozen touch. Your heart fell somewhere in the depths of your stomach at the reminder that you indeed did make that promise and that it kinda expired the next day without you fulfilling it.

Cursing yourself, both for making it and not keeping it, you looked up at him only to see that hopeful look in his eyes again. The same look he's been giving you since you've met again. The one that wished to make your relationship better and clear up what happened in the past.

"I just want to make things right with you," he added, looking down in his lap with a friendly twitch of his lips, lost on what else to say.

Your own eyes darted down, busying with the design on the duvet, the maroon wooden floors, even the white swirling into golden motives on the walls as if you never saw any of these details before. You wanted to talk to him and clear things up too, but you weren't even sure where to start.

It wasn't stalling. No, not even close. There was just so much to go through and you knew starting somewhere, anywhere, would be good, but you were lost on what. On the unsaid feelings that were still there, deep in your heart, still keeping you awake at night because he never gave you a chance to let them out? On the fact that he left right before you confessed those very feelings to him or that you lost control that night killing a bunch of people in cold blood? Which one of these was a good, relatively positive conversation starter that said 'Let's be friends again'?

Then you felt that pang in your torso, making your chest feel heavy again. Was he the one making it heavy or was it something else looming over you, waiting to catch you off-guard?

You were about to answer him when an unwanted visitor cracked your door open just a notch. He peeked his head inside and looked at the way the two of you were perched on the bed with the cat wiggling her tail between you, having what looked like a heart to heart.

Before he started sending daggers to the blonde coddled on your bed way too comfortable for his liking, he remembered why he was barging in the room in the first place and looked at you with a gaze that spurred that tightness in your chest further.

"Sorry to interrupt your bonding session, but we have news." His eyes softened when they landed on you, sending the growing pit of worry in your belly ablaze as he continued. "It's about your parents."

Your heart dropped.

You sat up abruptly, not wasting another second before you were swiftly on his tail as you followed him to his office without another word. The knots in your stomach churned and twisted in anticipation, and not the good kind that had you over the moon, but the one that could stop your beating heart as fast as a snap of fingers, wishing you could just teleport there and save up time.

Was it good news or bad news? was the main question running rampant.

If they were bad again, you were probably better off digging a hole into the ground and hiding from everything and everyone for an undetermined period. Your hopes were low to zero that it could be anything good in terms of the way most of your recent leads and missions went. But the urgency in his step kept the hope alive within you. Maybe it was something good this time around. So you kept that hope close, cradling it like a kindle that could go out on the smallest breeze, bracing yourself for whatever waited for you on the other side.

Wu and a few members of the gang were already sat in the office, waiting for the three of you. By the incognito citizen clothes, too shabby to be something Wu would ever wear freely out in the world, they definitely went out to gather information from places far more dangerous than the corner of the street.

"Master, madame," Wu greeted both of you, sitting with four of his men by the side of the desk, dejected looks on their faces.

You gave them a court nod, stopping in front of the desk, confused as to what was happening that required having so many people present. That and the fact that it might be really private information that was being shared. Whatever it was, it made that thing in your chest sit around your lungs like rope, tightening more with each passing second that no one uttered a word. Until Wu finally broke the silence halting the rope a little.

"We've been looking for the prisoner that escaped a few days ago. His name is Kenzo Hebi."

Kenzo the Snake. In all the years you've been graced by presence, you never caught his name. Or knew anything about him besides the fact that his wife was a leech just like him. But apparently he knew everything about you and your family, slithering into it enough to slowly destroy it. That name suits him entirely.

"Though we didn't find him particularly, we did find his boss. He's been working for the Daos."

The Daos you encountered back at the casino? If anything they didn't look like big bad mafia lords that a businessman had deals with, especially considering their shitty poker skills. But alas.

"The Triads?" asked Cho taken aback at the info. "What does a Yokohama businessman have to do with the Triads?"

Hold the fuck up. The Daos are part of the Triads? If Enishi knew that, he left out that part back when he briefed you for the mission. You threw him a look and as if he sensed your question, he shook his head that he didn't know that either. This was new information to both of you.

"How do you know that?" you asked the blonde in hopes he would elaborate and dissipate the common cloud of confusion.

"I have a few hatchets to bury with them," he crossed his arms on his chest, leaning backwards on the marble pillar behind him. His exposed forearms flexed in tandem with his jaw, a clear indicator he wasn't selling you doughnuts. He did have history with them. "I did some digging on them to get some leverage and found that they paid the Triads for security from time to time and they were occasionally trading arms."

Wu confirmed the information briefly before Enishi took over the conversation reeling it back to the main point. That man. The sly lizard that took everything from you.

"You may know him as a friend of your father's," he peered at you, noticing the way you scrunched your nose in disgust at the thoughtless pun, shifting on your legs impatiently. "But we caught him for an entirely different reason that night."

Speed-walking to his desk from beside you, he pulled open some drawers laying out a few maps on top of each other. You all gathered closer around them as he started explaining, trying to keep up with all the new information revealing itself.

"Besides that, he stole from one of our gun factories down the Eastern side of the Huangpu River," he pointed to one of the maps sketched to outline the exact settlement of the city of Shanghai. You honed in on it, recognizing the spot to be a textiles factory, about a few blocks away from the last place of refuge that you had to vacate, since the commander's troops were on your tail. Well, more on the tail of that one gray-haired criminal that you broke out, harbored, fed and now lived with. But anyway.

"The factory is kept under a textiles cover so the commander wouldn't question it." That made a lot of sense, especially since he checked all establishments regularly to make sure they had all the necessary papers to function.

"Anyway," he continued shifting some more paper around looking for something in particular. "While we may steal from other mafias sometimes, we do make a majority of our weapons there. Usually, people know better than crossing into our territory, but somehow that fucker managed to steal most of our stock."

"So you brought him in for questioning," you added as the story started piecing itself together. He nodded briefly still shuffling the pile of maps around, eyes grazing the ink without a break.

You would've apologized for nearly killing their source of information but he had it coming anyway. You thought back to the way you assaulted that man down in the basement as soon as he opened his mouth to talk nonsense, thinking he just happened to fall there as you were looking for your parents. As much as you hated to admit, it was a good outlet for your temporary rage.

"Yes, but as it turns out he's just one piece of a bigger puzzle." He shuffled the map he was looking for your way. You picked it up to see several places, all circled around the river in strident red ink - other factories, shops and even restaurants labelled with the names of other mafias, some of them that you've encountered on your own missions before.

Enishi handed you another map of the neighbouring cities, red circles turning into an overwhelming spiral of scarlet stretching across the rest of the country.

"It wasn't just us. They stole from every mafia on the mainland."

Stealing from every mafia and undercover at that without anyone suspecting anything? What could they possibly be planning that they would go that far? Unless... No. That wasn't possible. But all things on the table in front of you pointed to that.

"Oh my god," you gasped as the realization hit you. "They're making the gangs blame each other in order to start a war."

Enishi nodded, confirming your suspicions. But if this was happening already, like Cho recalled earlier, much, much worse was on the way. Things that could be catastrophic for everyone, not just for the crime world.

"But the triads haven't been around for that long. What could they possibly win from that?" asked Cho, voicing out your very thoughts.

"Mafias control a big part of trade, both imports and exports. By blindly gaining their trust and working under them, they can make a mafia crumble from the inside and take over it completely," added Enishi, leaning forward on the desk, eyes lost in the whirlpool of ink and paper. "If they abolish the mafias they gain control of everything going in and out of the country."

A coup d'état. This was way too much to process. Not just this but what told you that no traitor was lurking on the mansion grounds right now, right under Enishi's unsuspecting nose, watching your every move, eating the very food you've been cooking, hiding in the shadows until it was time to rat himself out. But then again the whole thing with the Triads was too complex. They barely got funded a couple of years ago and they already branched themselves out like a silent poison looking to kill and replace the systems that have been around for way longer than you've been alive. This was shaking up the natural order of things that wasn't even natural in the first place.

With all of this coming to light... there was something else you kept hidden. Something you haven't told anyone before since you didn't want it to reach the light of day in case it could put you on the radar again.

A few years ago, after the whole thing with Cho happened, you went solo again. Work was somewhat going well, you were getting jobs left and right, becoming the main person people called on for their long, insatiable, egocentric hitlists. You did the jobs, you got paid, you lived somewhat comfortably in a dusty old barrack. But as much as it was good business for you, it put you in the vizor of someone you never wanted to get involved with - the Triads.

At the time, you've heard stories of other assassins getting hired by them and they almost contracted you too back in Japan. You refused because working for them would've cost you every ounce of the freedom you barely had anyway. The triads gave you a roof over your head, fed you and trained you to the best you could be, but they took away every other semblance of humanity you had to make you nothing more than a killing machine, executing orders devoid of any conscience. A puppet to be controlled in their revolt against the state.

You refused them. Multiple times. Some of them involved taking your pistols out and you didn't just threaten anyone. But they got so persistent, hellbent on having you join them that it got to the point where they followed you, watching you on your missions, finding your whereabouts at any hour of the day, until you had enough and left the country silently.

That was the main reason you tried to stay under the radar when you came to Shanghai. You did your work under a different name, changed safe houses every few months, didn't get acquainted with anyone, doing everything in your power to try and erase any footprints that could lead them to you. Because anything pinpointing your location meant delivering yourself to them on a golden platter.

You lived your life in the shadows more than you wanted to, wishing it could all stop one day. The running, the hiding, the constant fear that someone was on their way to get you and drag you back into the darkness where she waited for you, since they definitely wanted Barairo, the crimson rose, not you. You wanted to fight them, let her out to destroy them every chance you got. But you didn't know what you were up against until now.

Coming back to the present, you tried to make sense of all the new, concerning details and what you already knew about the Triads, failing to see anything in this tangled mess relating to your mom and dad.

"Okay, but where do my parents stand in all this?" you let out the long-awaited question looking at Wu, hoping that he could finally spill what you wanted to know.

Were they dead? Were they alive? Did he find them or anything else that could lead us to them?

Instead of answering you, he peered over to the very man that called you over tonight. He was sitting in the shadows behind the mahogany desk with his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes were cast downwards, staring gaping holes into the maps, avoiding your curious ones at any cost, despite being the one who commenced this meeting in the first place. Something was off and very weird about it. He was always so collected, holding nothing back. Why was he on the defense so suddenly? Then he sighed. A long, stacked breath of air. Enishi doesn't sigh.

"What's going on?" you pushed, stepping closer to the desk, wanting to know why he was taking so long to talk.

He hesitated telling you, trying to push this dreaded conversation aside as much as he could for the past few weeks, but he had to. He was done keeping things away from you. He knew the risk - that he could lose you either way. If he talked, you would cave in on yourself, shutting him out completely. But if he didn't, you would have your suspicions and question him until you pried it out of him.

It was now or never. He preferred for it to be never. But it was time. He could be dishonest and false with anyone else. But not with you. Not when you put your trust in him for it.

Taking a deep inhale with eyes closed, feeling nerves grip him for the first time in a good while, he pushed it out with the exhale, guilty raven eyes looking at you with the weight of steel.

"Your parents had ties to the Triads."

Time stilled as the words left his mouth one by one. Not one soul moved. Yours froze and thawed over in seconds at just that one sentence. A sentence you never thought you'd ever hear in your life.

You struggled to process the words like he spoke in a foreign language you had no recollection of ever hearing or speaking before. They rolled over and over in your head, brain working overtime in turning each one back and forth, until they started registering sharp and clear and as they did, your knees went weak with their weight. Those horrifying seven words echoed again with more impact this time, ears ringing as you scurried backwards away from the desk to get yourself seated on the couch somehow, so you wouldn't crumble in front of everyone.

Your mind ran empty of everything, nausea making her hideous presence felt so deeply in that pit in your stomach, setting fire to the incessant bellows of worry that ate at your peace little by little all day. Your eyes weren't even focusing on the worried pairs of eyes gathering around you, one more concerned than any of them kneeling down before you. He spoke, getting you to focus on his words but they weren't what you needed to hear at all.

"There's something else you should know."

What more could be worse than this?

"Our meeting wasn't a coincidence."

What?

"I know that they tried to contract you," he continued, giving you no time to think straight. "They've been looking for you."

"How do you-"

"I've been watching you for a while, way before you moved in. We've been looking for any leads on the guy and stumbled upon the Hikari name. One clue led to another and I found you."

Your eyes darted to the ground away from him, grinding your teeth with newfound anger, trying to keep your temper under control. He hasn't talked to you in days, not one single word save for the heated interaction you had last night in the kitchen. But the one time he does talk is to chirp like a fucking canary that he played Judas with you.

He lied to me.

All this time, he didn't want to take me in. He never wanted to train me. He wanted information from me. He wanted to know if I was involved in this godforsaken world in the slightest.

All this time, I was a pawn in his game. He was right. I really was just another stray he took in. I've been so stupid.

Forget the stab in the back for now. Your parents were your main priority here, no matter how much this hurt. You focused all your leftover energy on them since you might have a safe shot at finding them. Even if that meant keeping your alliance with the devil sitting right in front of you, still playing angel in disguise despite everything he just told you that he's been hiding from you for months. Wasting any more precious time, like this, was signing their death sentence.

Feeling the repercussions of his betrayal came later, you told yourself to ease the ache a notch. For now, you'd keep your own feelings at bay and fight for your parents. For now, you'd keep the anger inside just a little more.

That was until he chose to open his mouth again.

"Are you okay?"

You've got to be shitting me.

"Am I okay?! You're telling me that my parents were somehow involved in organized crime and expect me to be okay?! Do you realize how fucking insane that sounds?" you threw a hand through your hair trying to make sense of anything in this mess. It sounded ridiculous even as you said it out loud yourself. "T-they were tailors, they weren't bad people."

"I know it sounds difficult to believe, but Wu ran the information and it checks out," he added, as if your world wasn't barely standing straight already and some more truthful angst would do the trick to tilt it over fully. Fucking amazing.

You weren't going to believe it at all until you sat thinking for a good minute, going over your last interactions with your parents years ago, and certain things became way too clear in your head just like idea bulbs. Or trauma bulbs in this case.

The way that snake threatened them every time he came to the tailor shop. The fact that your parents had a lot of foreign clients coming from outside of the city, all the way to some tailor shop in the middle of practically nowhere. Or that you were living comfortably, homeschooled, safe, unlike the rest of the district that was in peak war age.

It all started to make a whole lot of fucking sense.

"Their clients, the expensive textiles they imported, even our house," your head dropped to your hands as it all became crystal clear in a messy mix of truths you couldn't swallow past that lump in your throat. "None of it was really ours was it?"

"I'm sorry," he rubbed your arm trying to comfort you, even though he knew nothing could actually bring you peace, especially coming from him after everything he just told you, after he lied. "But they weren't bad people. They were just whisked away in the midst of it all."

"Does that mean we can't find them?" you asked, hating the way your voice broke on the last word.

"On the contrary," he turned up a smirk, just like he did whenever he knew something helpful. A solution out of the hell ride you were slowly buckling into. It somehow brought you some hope that things weren't as fucked up as they seemed. Though you highly doubted that.

"If they are affiliated with the triads, even in the smallest, we have a chance at finding them sooner than we think."

A chance. That's all you needed. Even the smallest of hopes in the biggest pile of all this fantastical fuckery would do you good right now.

"There is someone who knows enough about their plans to send them to the pits of hell if he wanted. We arranged to meet with him."

Okay, that's great. A possibly wanted man wanting to meet with the leader of one of the mafias who could have him killed or put him out in the open to the Triads for them to get him killed first? Highly unlikely.

"Why do I feel like there's more to that?"

"It took some persuasion, but he agreed to meet us in the worst place possible. The Shanghai Club."

"You've got to be joking," exclaimed Cho, finally joining the conversation since his own ass could be in danger now. "That place is crawling with the commander's troops and triad members."

"That's why I said it's the worst place possible," added Enishi as a matter of fact, turning to look Cho dead in the eye.

Ignoring their bickering, you gave it a thought. You had a safe shot at finding your parents this time. Sure, it could end up in a bloodbath no one wanted to wipe clean after, but you were willing to take it.

No more waiting. No more looking around to find fairy tales from random henchmen caught red handed with information that was common knowledge in their world. It was time you decided what you wanted to do and right now that was following your incredibly twisted guts. If you had to dive into that hell again, then might as well do it on your own terms. 'Cause the first time went fantastic.

"When?" you simply asked.

"Hold on a second. You're not actually thinking of going are you?" asked Cho, though it wasn't really a question and more of a statement that he would get in your way. "That's a suicide mission."

"I have to," you played with the hem of your shirt, trying to calm a shrill of tremor climbing up your hands. "They're my parents, Cho. I can't just leave things like this. Not now when we have a certain lead."

You turned back to Enishi with hopeful eyes finding his own still on you, waiting for your answer. This was probably the last thing you would trust him with ever. "It is certain this time, right?"

He didn't hesitate to nod his head, a genuine want to help passing through his eyes at your question. Good.

"If we're going there, we're gonna need new outfits!" you chimed, trying to find a way to get out of the room before the walls would cave in on you and someone took notice of the unnatural way your hands started shaking. That knot in your chest tugged at you more insistently now with the heavy tension in the air and the multiple pairs of eyes watching you with pity, the one thing you hated the most in the world.

"I want both of you in my room later," you added, nodding at the two men that would accompany you. You only registered how suggestive your words sounded after they left your mouth, all eyes in the room staring at you widely, only adding to your discomfort. Men.

"To get you sized and ready, obviously," you clarified and with that you shuffled off the couch and left in a hurry without looking back.

The two males exchanged a look, trying to make sense of your behaviour, expecting a different reaction to all of this, not you being ready to stitch and sew outfits in the dead of night. The blonde shrugged in response, lost on what to think anymore, more preoccupied with finding an escape route of this. But something about your reaction rubbed the other one wrong, watching your back retreat out the door with growing nerves himself.

You walked this hallway so many times before. But right now for some reason it seemed to stretch longer, wider, walls tilting in on each other under the weight of gravity. Each step on the creaky wooden floors made you jump in fright, the trepidation of your heart louder than the constant ringing in your ears, heavier than the bile gradually rising in your throat.

Taking faster strides to reach the familiar tall oak arches, you pushed the doors to your room open. Going straight to your work desk, you pulled out all the materials you could find to start working and get your mind off things. Pacing around from corner to corner, unable to locate the cushion of needles you always, you ran to your vanity as your heart pumped faster. You searched around and messed up the recently organized drawers, throwing things on the ground behind you, hands shaking with anxiety only to find the damn cushion nowhere in sight, more worry gripping you.

You took a look at yourself in the mirror, staring at the dim orbs that resembled your mother's eyes. The faces of your parents flashed before you, standing next to each other in a tender embrace, expanding that painful throb in your chest.

What if I will never find them? They were gone for so long. There might be no trace of them on earth anymore. That simple thought made each breath your lungs took harder to call inside, taking you even longer to let them out. Your vision darkened, a new wave of dizziness throwing you off balance as you grappled with your breathing that was slowly going out of control, coming out in shorter pants and wheezes.

Panic filled you from that annoying pit in your belly, stretching upwards inside of you to grab onto your neck as if to strangle you for ignoring it for so long. To make you pay for every missed chance of finding your parents. For every connection you built on blind, broken trust. For every life you took that probably didn't even deserve it. For following the worst of devils on earth fooling yourself they would save you. For being a failure in every fucking way and not being able to do one thing right by your parents, by the people you cared about, by yourself. For everything you did, for all you were doing and for everything you will do. You lost the fight. You let your own personal inferno come alive.

I warned you, a voice echoed inside of you head, dark with malice and death. You leaned your hands on the vanity table, your whole body trembling, spasming under your weight that seemed unbearable to keep on your own two legs, struggling to stay upright. This wasn't happening. This couldn't happen.

Not right now. I can't lose control now. Not when I'm so close to find them.

You caught the glimpse of a silhouette in the vanity mirror, entering your room in a haste. Maybe it was death remembering you existed, finally coming to take you away as payback for avoiding its call to hell so many times that it found it amusing and let you simmer until you finally broke yourself. The devil surely loved the sinners that did it to themselves the most.

The shadow moved behind you, looking less like a demon from hell and more like a human being the closer it got to you. Maybe it was one of the angels still around you, fighting for your redemption against all odds telling it you couldn't be saved. That you didn't deserve the saving.

Whatever or whoever it was, they called your name with a voice so angelic, like a dream was playing before you in slow motion. A tone so holy that you could trust it to take you anywhere it wanted to, whether it was heaven or hell. It might have been your hallucination kicking in as you were falling apart. It tried to get your attention but they seemed so far away. So, so, so far away from the abyss you had one leg inside. Until their arms wrapped around you, secure and supportive, stable and safe. Maybe it was your mind cooking up nonsense, but you felt that hold on you like someone was actually holding you for real.

Their secure firm tightened around you just like the panic pressing down your neck sending you into sensory overload. You refused to let go of the vanity table, your only anchor to reality, digging your hands into the wood so hard your nails chipped at the edges. A hand came up to your cheek, cupping it gently to turn your face towards them. You stared at the blurry blob in the shadow morphing into a face, slowly becoming clearer in the haze. Their mouth that moved with a voice so angelic before turned into a velvety demonic sound, words finally making their way to you, drilling loud into the quiet.

"Look at me," he demanded, tone warm and steady to get you to focus on him.

Him. You needed to get away from him. You couldn't be near him right now. He hurt you. He broke your trust after you gave it to him with everything you had. All your secrets, your pain, your heart, all of it laid out on a silver platter. He took all of it and threw it into the fire, sitting on the sidelines without as much as looking back to see what was left of you as the ashes scattered away. He used you. He didn't need you. He's better off without you, that voice pushed again.

"Go away," you croaked out trying to shove him off, even as your hands shook uncontrollably and your knees locked in place.

He only held you tighter to him, musky scent you loved so much turning into a burning ash stench as you struggled to inhale any speck of air inside. You slumped against him pathetically, still holding the vanity in a death grip, refusing to let go and give up control. Give it up. Let me out. I can take care of him.

"Look at me," he commanded this time, demanding your attention. Moving anything was taxing, but when your blurry eyes brimming with tears finally caught his, willing him to let you go, he just wouldn't budge from beside you. "I need you to breathe, Miyu."

No, you don't. You need to let me out, she hissed so loud, sending your thoughts haywire.

You choked on a half-sob, trying to get air inside. You were trying. God, you were really trying.

But each haggard, piercing drag of air you ran after slipped further away, turning your chest into nothing more but a lead carcass, just as heavy and constricting as the barrel of your pistols must feel for a bullet. You shook your head, more tears spilling over your cheeks.

"I c-can't."

"Yes, you can."

He worked to loosen the grip of one of your hands on the edge of the vanity table, successfully plying one of them free. He placed it against his chest, letting you feel the beat of his heart, alive and working. He was real. So, so real. A lot more real than the voice in your head. You felt his chest expand under your palm, up and down, his own breathing calm and normal, alternating in rhythms. You tried to follow it in one brave, sharp intake of air but all that did was send needles to your own chest, pushing a pained moan through your throat.

You were drowning. Your heart was beating way too fast for it not to explode any minute. Your lungs weren't working with you. You were ready to accept it and sink into it, ready to let her do whatever she wanted and lose yourself, when his forehead pressed into your temple to keep you tethered here, keep you with him, keep you fighting. He was damned if he let you give into it right now.

"Please breathe for me," he begged, eyes blazing in a frenzy, trying to keep his own breathing stable so you could follow it.

Enishi Yukishiro didn't beg for no one.

The desperation in his voice scared you. It told you he would raise bloody murder to the entirety of the globe if you dared to let go right now. You didn't come this far for nothing. Your struggle wasn't in vain. You still had so much to fight for.

You swore to help him avenge his sister. He swore to help you find your parents. You couldn't let go now. None of those promises were fulfilled yet by either of you. She definitely wouldn't fulfill them. She would kill him before she even took her first step out of that cage. You couldn't let that happen. You couldn't let her. Oh, but you could, she taunted caressing those iron bars with sweet temptation. I will die before I let you touch him.

You tried a few more breaths but they barely went in, crunching the material of his kimono in your fist, pushing your lungs to work with you and take a fucking breath. Pathetic. Frustrated and defeated with yourself, you cried out wishing for a miracle when he spoke again, picking up the very broken pieces of your heart that he shattered with his own two hands, attempting to put them back together.

"I don't regret finding you. I don't regret taking you in. I don't regret anything we've done together. You're not alone anymore. I'm not alone anymore. I like having you around."

Letting his fast mix of jumbled words wash over you, you dug deep into the abyss clutching your heart and your lungs harder with each passing second, looking for a way out. There's no way out. There is always a way out. There had to be one even now as your world seemed like it was ending.

"I need to have you around, Miyu. I promised you I'm not leaving you. I'm here. I'm right here."

You tried again and again and again and again and again. You ran and ran and turned around in the pitch black of your mind that was shutting down, aimlessly looking for a speck of light to lead you out.

"You're strong enough. Come on baby. Breathe with me."

His voice became your saving grace in that moment. He became the surge of light you needed to follow in the darkness. With each word a brighter speck of that light lit it up, making it go back to its place away until it was unable to touch you. Until you couldn't hear her anymore. She was gone.

After what felt like forever, listening to his endless pleas, feeling his heart beating under your trembling hand and his touch holding you close, you were breathing. Somehow, the more you tried more air was finally available to you.

Leaning on the vanity, half-supported by him, you took more air inside like you were taking your first breath in the world, unaware of all that was waiting for you. That first inhale was raw, the large gulps that followed stabbing your dry throat as if knives had a parade inside its walls, fully aware of all that you've already been through. Fully aware that this was only the beginning. But you kept going.

His other hand came to sit around your waist, rubbing circles into your hip, small and large matching the rhythm of his breathing so you could focus and follow it as a guide.

Slowly, the breaths you took went down into your lungs deeper each time, filling them up with much needed air. The bile that rose in your throat went back inside. The chaos in your soul went quiet again with him by your side, holding your hand in the center of his chest the whole time. His fist closed over yours like a safe, guarding it there on top of his heart, not once letting go.

The darkness in your vision cleared a bit, leaving just a few dark spots lingering as you focused on the creature in the mirror looking back at you, resembling you. It was you - paled over, looking like a ghost, shaking like a leaf in the wind, held together by the man beside you.

Your hands stopped shaking, receding to an occasional tremor. Your heart still thundered wildly, still agitated from the thrill. Lifting up the hand you held onto the vanity table to test your balance was a bad decision. The moment you took it away, your whole balance left the safety of the wooden block and you swayed to the side, knees buckling under the sudden movement. But he caught you before you could fall into a pile on the ground.

"Fuck, stay put will you," he rumbled, gathering you in his arms to carry you straight to the bed.

He let you down on the mattress gently, placing you against the pillows and sat down next to you, taking your hand in his. His fingers settled on your pulse point, relief washing over him that it was slowly coming down from the high you were on. He did that a lot as you trained, chastising you about keeping yourself at a normal rate since he discovered you were prone to dizzy spells. Even Koru climbed in the bed, sensing something was wrong and nuzzled your thigh in comfort as you took a few more breaths in, this time to stop the leftover palpitations.

Reaching out to touch the side of your face, he swiped at the leftover tears that were still falling free. His fingers brushed away the hair sticking to your face as you focused on clearing the heavy weight in your chest, loosening apart that tight rope breath by breath until you couldn't feel it there anymore. It was gone just as fast as it came.

He cupped your cheek, drawing your eyes to him. His creased brows and the tension in his hold told you he was still worried. You didn't want to, but you leaned into his touch, almost naturally welcoming his comfort and to soothe both of you someway.

"Thank god I found you before something worse happened."

I didn't kick the bucket yet, you swine. And if I ever do, it won't be under your roof.

Feeling too self-conscious, you looked away from him, gaze falling on the mess you made in the room when you barged in, from the carpet around the vanity littered with all kinds of trinkets, darting to the heaps of fabric on top of your work desk. He followed it, a knowing look replacing the worry on his face. You still wanted to put yourself through working on those damn outfits right now.

"You need rest. Those can wait until tomorrow since the meeting is two days from now," he reassured you. "You have time."

"I'm fine," you said, frowning at your scratchy throat.

Were you saying that for him or for yourself? That didn't really matter right now. What mattered was doing something that didn't let you sit and overthink once your mind caught up to you, though it would take a while since it still felt like cotton was pushed around in it in every corner.

"If you didn't just have a panic attack," he started, handing you a glass with water from the pitcher on the nightstand, "I might have just believed you."

"I don't need your worry," you retorted, sitting up to drink the water.

"You're resting. Not up for discussion. If you as much as think of putting a foot out of the bed for anything other than going to the bathroom, I will have you tied to the bed."

"You can't do that."

"Watch me."

Too tired of this back and forth, you turned around to the other side, feeling furious. He treated you like a child in need of a time out session. Well, he might as well watch your backside for all you cared. You were too exhausted to throw a bigger tantrum right now though he did deserve to hear the end of it.

He stayed with you, absorbing the resentment seeping off of you. He deserved the cold shoulder. He wanted to come clean so many times before but there was always that doubt telling him that it would rip the bond you had at the seams and nothing would be able to fix it. He cared about the connection you had. It was the only real thing he had left. He cared so much that keeping things away from you proved harder as time went on.

When Wu walked into his office in a rush this afternoon and told him what he found out, he knew it was time to atone for it. Even if that meant hurting you in the process. Even if it meant you would be mad at him for the rest of your lives.

Dragging a hand over his face with a small groan at his own stupidity, he let his eyes fall on you, taking notice of the steady rise and fall of your back telling him you fell asleep. He got up and draped the covers over you before laying one of the softest kisses on your temple, his silent promise of protection whenever things went wrong between you. That you always had a place to run to when you needed it. Even if you didn't want it anymore, he would always welcome you. Wait for you.

"I'm sorry," he whispered against your hair, taking in the warm rosy scent of it to settle the guilt swimming in his gut a little. "I will explain everything to you soon."

With that he got up, turning for the door. He creaked it open then turned back around once more, spotting the dark ball of fur already laying by your side.

"Make sure she rests," he told the cat who just meowed at him in response, cuddling closer to you with a loud purring noise.

And now he was talking to the cat.

The dawn of a torrential downpour roused you from sleep. The sky ripped open, angry raindrops rapping against the glass violently mad as if to break inside. The wind hastened, howling nature awake. Lightning crackled bathing the room in bright white, followed by the deep rumble of thunder thunder reverberating so loud it shook you awake. It couldn't have been earlier than five in the morning, the world still dark and gray outside your window.

The beginning of a painful headache graced you, throbbing in pace with the heavy rain, splitting your skull at the crackle of lightning. You rolled around the bed on heavy limbs, hand aimlessly tapping the nightstand looking for the water pitcher. With a struggle, you pulled your body up in a sitting position only to frown at the lack of water on the cabinet. Both the pitcher and the glass on top were empty of even the smallest drop of liquid. Great.

Scrambling to the edge of the bed, you held your head, trying to get it to focus on the task at hand - getting water. If you had any chance of getting back to sleep you needed it. Something pawing at your feet grabbed your attention. Koru. She sat there, looking at you with those round balls of bright yellow glowing in the dark, meowing. You moved your leg away only to have her paw at it again and sit on it, meowing louder.

Not you too, you sighed.

You leaned down to give her a soft pet on the head for her caring nature, looking back at the empty glass with a long sigh.

If only you could bring me water, little one.

Suddenly, she got up from your feet and sauntered out through the small crack in the door. You would've followed her if it wasn't for the nauseating feeling rocking you like a boat on a furious sea. So you sat back in the middle of the bed, holding onto your head.

A few minutes passed, rain falling harder against the windows, headache turning into a full-blown migraine. No amount of massage or pressure from your fingers or rolling around the bed in different positions could cure it. Absolutely helpless, that's what I am.

The door cracked slightly ajar. You paid it no mind thinking Koru came back from her spontaneous stroll. Instead of a meow or paws paddling the floor to reach you, you heard lean steps, the rattle of glass and the sound of liquid flowing from one recipient to the other.

The bed dipped in front of you with a weight heavier than Koru's. Confused at who it could be this early, you let your hands fall from your head to look up and find a surprisingly awake Enishi holding out a glass for you, filled with water all the way to the rim.

You took it without a second thought, gulping down the whole thing in one breath. It went down your throat so rough but so soothing, getting rid of the stabbing dryness coating it. Asking for another, he went to pour it as you wiped the leftover drops hanging on the bow of your lips. He handed it back to you sitting back in his spot, joined by your dear black fur of ball that nestled by his leg. Turns out deception runs in the family, you thought, watching the two bond over keeping you in bed at any cost.

Glass back on your nightstand and throat somewhat better, a pang of pain returned, sending you to lay back down under the covers. You hoped you could find some comfort now that you had some water. Wordlessly, he got up and tucked you better under the duvet, drawing it up your back all the way to your nape. He spared one more look at you, cuddled up to sleep with the feline and left, closing the door fully this time, taking the small flicker of light he left you with away with him.

The next time you woke up, it was almost lunch time. The dark storm in the early morning left quietly, but the sky remained dull, devoid of any other color but gray. Just like my soul. The sweet smell of food wafted into your nostrils on barely the first conscious inhale of breath. Your stomach instantly grumbled at the delicious scent, only for you to turn in bed and find said food on a plate on the nightstand.

Blinking away the sleep from your eyes, you sat up examining the contents of the plate - dorayaki pancakes. As big as the palm of your hand, neatly folded at the opening and round with a bunch of filling. His apologetic pancakes. Huh. What is he playing at now?

Reluctant, but hungry, you took a bite, letting the berry jam filling melt in your mouth. He left you orange juice too on the side, tasting refreshing after the sweet brunch. If only his personality was this sweet all the time, though that was a stretch knowing him.

You felt better, either from the multiple sleep rounds you took or the pancakes. Not at one hundred percent, but still much better than you did last night. You had a long list of things to go through - talking with you know who, talking with blondie, a whole lot of talking. But for now, you had enough fuel and energy to get down to work on the outfits for the meeting at the club that was in less than forty-eight hours. Yours especially.

You changed out of yesterday's clothes and picked up some of the mess around the room. Finally sat down at your work desk, you browsed through the materials you had available - red satin, burgundy velvet, indigo satin, some green cashmere and black chiffon. A goth lover's dream. Blondie was right, that book did take a toll on you, among other things.

All things aside, red was your color. You always wore red, no matter the occasion. Even if it was just an accessory, like your mother's pendant that was on you at all times. It was you, in either shade or material. Blazing like a flame on its way to eat half of the world if as much as one gust of injustice blew your way. Crackling to a strong kindle if you were sputtering out in the cold of uncertainty. Drenching everything crimson if you needed to protect something.

You breathed red.

Unfortunately for you, you were left without scraps, only with new, untouched rolls of material, which meant you had to start from zero. You were good at stitching two or more different pieces together, reworking them into something new, but you never worked on something from beginning to end.

Working with a blank canvas was your mother's specialty. You never understood how she just visualized a client's order in one whole standing piece, full of detail and precise flair. The most you ever did from zero was a pair of pants that you had to wear backwards for them to work and not look weird. Sketching wasn't your forte either, much more your father's talent. You did know weaving, stitching, knitting, embroidery, anything that was a basic technique with textiles. But everything else was pure luck of the moment if inspiration somehow happened to hit you. Let's look for some inspiration then.

You walked to the wardrobe in the other corner, pulling it open to look through it hoping to find it there. Scanning all the heaps of clothes, your eyes landed on the dress you made for the ball a few weeks ago - the revamped wedding qipao. Enishi's shocked and appalled reaction flashed in your mind recalling the way you walked out in a new rehabilitated rendition of his expensive golden kimono and that cursed qipao. Chuckling to yourself with a pat on the back at the idea, you studied it a little, feeling like it was too on the flashy, gown side to be reused again, especially for a club. High society clubs required something classier, light, somewhat hot, but modest and combat appropriate all in one. Not a huge checklist at all.

Spreading out all the fabric and some clothes from the wardrobe on the floor, you sat in the middle, looking at all of them. Then you closed your eyes, willing the gods of creativity to give you some. You took a few deep breaths, focusing on visualizing a dress and some details, hoping something would pop into your head if you tried hard enough. Come on, brain. Work with me. After a while, you opened them back up, frowning at the mess of fabric around you with still no idea. That usually worked, especially if it was mission attire. Before you could get up and scour some more, a distant memory hit you like a truck.

A long, long time ago, back in Yokohama, your parents had this really stylish lady as a client. She came in one day, at the recommendation of a friend, looking for a dress for an overseas event. Her specs had some of your current requirements, heavy on the classic, save for the combat and hot features off the list. Your mom worked weeks on that dress, getting it as perfect as it could be. When the lady came by to pick it up and tried it on for one last fitting, she was stunned. The dress fit her like a jewel meant just for her, putting her uniqueness on display like she was part of the royal family.

You yourself fell in love with that dress, asking your mother to make it for you time and time again only for her to refuse. "I will make you one, far more beautiful than that one when you grow older, my little light," you recalled her saying softly.

Well, here I am mom, making it myself.

Grabbing the satin, your usual go-to, you measured the fabric and layered it in the shape of a skirt on a mannequin you bought from the village, measuring the exact diameter of your waist and hips. Marking the start of it, you pinned it to the dummy and worked down the hem line, drawing the drop bigger, pinching the material from top to bottom with needles.

Then you tugged the velvet open, working some of it in the shape of a bodice for the top part. You set that on the mannequin, fixing the rough shapes around and stepped back, looking at the mix to get a bigger picture. It looked okay... but the dark red on light red didn't work at all. The satin was too shiny and the velvet way too dark.

The more you tilted your head on the side, it looked even more mismatched. This is where your father would walk in to say, "I think you should change the colours, darling. It looks like a bed of roses threw up on the mannequin." He wouldn't be wrong.

Okay dad, one shade of red works then.

Whirling back to the mess in the center of your room, you noticed a roll peeking from under your bed. Since it wasn't in the pile on the desk, it must've been one of the items that ended up on the floor last night. You picked it up, rolling it open a bit - ruby velvet. Not too dark and not too light either. The dark shade matched the velvet top on the mannequin but it could work by itself for both a corset top and the longer skirt. Adding some sleeves and pulling the neckline a bit higher. Some ruffles on the bodice to give it more depth and frills on the sides to make it flare...

Okay, this can work. It would do.

The afternoon was in tow, sunlight brimming merrily through your window. You just finished working on the body of your dress and the rough shape, left with sewing the skirt and adding some small details here and there.

Shoulders, back and legs aching from standing too much, you decided to take a breather, laying down on the carpet to stretch your sore limbs. Eyes closed, resting on the warmed patch of sun on the cream carpet, you took a well-deserved break. It felt so good to have the sun on your face, even if it wasn't directly from the outside. It still felt so comforting, relaxing your body and warming you up with much needed serotonin.

Stolen away by the peace of the moment, you failed to notice the incoming company, sliding in your room as quiet as a mouse. Since you had your eyes shut, laid on the floor with arms and legs wide open like a corpse, he was quick to rush to your side to check if you were still breathing. Taken aback at the shift in the air around you, your eyes slowly opened to see him, right above you. His brawny, large palms pressed to the wooden floor on either side of your head, keeping him upright, while his eyes searched yours with concern. You just blinked up at him, confused. Thanks to the length of his arms, the space between you was big, though not big enough to still your rapidly racing heart.

Sitting in the silence of your breaths and the white noise coming from the open window, you just looked at him for a bit. His eyes were no longer dark, lighting up in a softer chocolate tone with the glow of the sun beating from the side. They weren't as intense as yesterday, way more tender and warm now. The usual blue rim on the sides, really noticeable when he was mad, was now a deep amber, complimenting the earthy brown pooling around his pupils. He really had the most beautiful and captivating eyes you've ever seen.

"I thought you dropped dead."

Way to ruin the moment.

"Get off me, mophead," you pushed against his shoulders trying to sit up but he didn't move at all from his position, letting you crash right into his chest. You frantically grabbed at the mounds of his back to not fall backwards, instead diving head first right into the crook of his neck. And he still didn't move.

You clung to him like a koala, eyes darting all over the place in a frenzy because if you looked right ahead, you would be met with that stupid neck of his. The close proximity alone invited you to take a whiff of it, noticing that the woody aroma that regularly hit you first was less present, totally overpowered by the rich, sweet and fruity jasmine. You nearly threw your head back with a moan at how good he smelled. Traitors weren't supposed to smell so good, so addicting.

"Why are you on the floor?" he asked, words rolling so husky off his lips that it had your belly tighten. Your body was no stranger to what that tone could do to you, especially so close to your ear that it shook chills awake down your back.

You didn't reply, distrusting your own voice. That only spurred him to turn his head to you. Before it could turn fully and cage you against his neck, you let go of his back forgetting that the hard wooden floor awaited you. Before hitting your back on it hard, giving yourself another pain you didn't need, one of his arms reached out to catch you, splaying flat on the middle of your back. He was holding the both of you up with just one arm fixed on the floor without a shake or a sway of the strain it took on his muscles. That's hot.

"My back was hurting and it was warm," you replied, gulping down air as you met his eyes again. Warm. So much more warmth than the heat of the sun could ever provide.

"But there's a bed," he stated, watching his brown orbs dart to your lips and back to your eyes a few times. Their rapid movement was almost hypnotic, putting you in a trance. The white and golden colours on the ceiling all swirled behind him, not one quite as powerful and bewitching as his own aura. The only thing that gave you a high so dangerous but so heavenly. A high that nothing else on earth will ever be able to give you. Will I ever be able to quit you?

"There's a bed," you repeated, more like a question than a statement, too stolen by those eyes to think straight. And he caught that. The way your pupils dilated and your lips parted told him you weren't quite here. So his gaze turned playful, preparing for a tease attack you wouldn't be able to get out of.

Lowering you down to the floor, he caged you between his arms again as he bent down, closing the distance between you. Breath caught in your throat, you pulled your arms closer to your chest in reflex and feigned protection, only to see the corner of his lips turn up with a mischievous smirk.

That goddamn smirk.

"Tell me," he started, tongue peaking out from the confines of his mouth to lick his lips, so plump and inviting, in devious teasing, "what's a bed for?"

He was completely taking advantage of your dazed mind, trying to play games with you and you just let him, unable to escape it.

"A bed is for... uhh... sleeping obviously," you replied unsure with a nervous giggle, more focused on how close he was to getting to your lips. They've been aching for him for so long it hurt that he was so close but not moving towards yours. Though his arms were almost fully bent on the elbows beside your head, nose almost touching yours, lips not headed for yours at all.

"Just sleeping?" he quirked a brow, pressing into your body at all the right angles, in all the places that yearned for it. The inner side of his biceps pressed into your shoulders on each side keeping you in place. His defined chest sat right onto your raising breasts, perking up slightly under your top from how much he turned you on. His torso jammed flush to yours, moving up and down, expanding with shallow breaths into each other. His hips dove right into yours, between your legs, feeling the mightiness in his pants bulge right onto your core. If he as much as breathed, it created friction in every single place he touched indirectly, overwhelming you in the worst way possible.

You closed your eyes to keep your breathing from spiraling and try to focus on something else, only to shudder at the feeling of his lips attaching themselves to your jaw. They didn't kiss it, hovering over the sensitive skin instead, blowing hot breaths on it, making your back arch instinctively at the near contact. Near. So near. They simply brushed all the way under it, heading upwards to your earlobe, grazing the side of your ear with temptation as he whispered, " What else?", so quiet and sensual that you whined audibly.

Heart pounding wildly, mind spinning out of control, breathing uneven and fast, your entire body so hungry and lusting for a booty call you didn't even initiate but craved like a feral wolf in heat. The Enishi Yukishiro effect.

"Why are you here?" you rasped, head rolling to the side, so dizzy and full with his presence and the sensory overload.

He loved the effect he had on you, turning you into mush with as much as a stare and his touch that implied his intentions with you were either soft and sweet or tainted by dirt and sin. Right now they were the latter.

"You called me over, remember?" he answered nonchalantly, tilting his head to the side with a grin, lacing his hands together above your head, acting so innocent. As if he didn't turn you on to the point you could jump his bones right there and regret it later.

"For the fitting," he added. The fitting, that's what you needed to focus on.

"Oh, right, the fitting." Sobering up like cold water drenched you instead of heat all over your body, you pushed him harder aside managing to get out from under him.

At last, you were up from that sinful place on the floor. Stretching your arms over your head and clicking your knees, you walked away like nothing happened. His eyes widened at your sudden change in mood, but that grin still sat on his lips when he turned around on the floor to see you better. Heading to the work table to pick up the suit he wore to the ball, you caught the grin turning into a grimace at seeing it again, recalling how uncomfortable it felt on his body that day, constricting even his air flow. You shook your head, giggling at the plain disgust on his face.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing," you snickered, waving him off.

"Well, something is if you're laughing like a maniac."

"Your face is funny."

Pulling on a scowl that nuked his previous excitement, he got up off the floor, crossing his arms over his chest in disapproval at having to wear it again. He visibly sulked, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. He truly is the most Gemini man I have ever come across.

"Don't worry," you assured him, pulling the outfit off the hanger. "I will make some adjustments to it and dress it down."

"What adjustments are we talking?" he raised an eyebrow, not liking where this was going.

You walked to him and patted his shoulder in encouragement.

"Get naked, hot stuff."

Handing him the pants, you turned around to give him some privacy to get out of his daily wear and into more proper clothes. You liked kimonos on him, you really did. But a suit and tie made the man look like a model. Okay, maybe you just liked how it compressed his biceps to the point you struggled to not salivate like a dog for treats. Actually, he looks good in anything-

Hearing grunts, you turned around to watch as he struggled to pull up the tailored trousers over his broad, sculpted thighs. Sweet baby Jesus. Pulling on each side he finally managed to pull them around his waist. Though that left you wondering if Wu had to help him that day too and couldn't help from barking a laugh out loud. He threw you another look carrying a fair warning and you stopped, laughing some more on the inside.

Walking over to him, your fingers tapped on the material of his tank top, telling him you wanted it off. No questions asked, it was discarded to the floor, leaving the mightiness of his topless form grace you.

Good god. Did he get more toned since the last time we... yeah, he definitely did.

You traced all the lines on his front with hungry eyes, unable to focus on just one single defined dip of muscle meat, assaulted by the cushiony pecs on his chest right under those bow-shaped collar bones, the flexing biceps on the sides, the abdomen that had more packs that you could count consciously without losing count, and the rest of the muscles he had in places you didn't even know could grow muscles. You had to physically avert your eyes before you had a stroke from how hot and hard your heart was pumping blood through your body at the sight. Including to that aching spot between your legs he grazed moments ago.

Dear lord, the men you put on this earth.

Circling around him, you stopped at his back, studying the ripples of fibrous sinews stretching over his broad shoulders and down his extremely bulky vein-filled arms, trailing down the line of his spine running down into the tailored pants, a pair of back dimples saluting you. He turned his head to the side slightly, watching you get lost in the detailed map of his back, chomping down on a finger nail in focus. He could see right through you, fully aware where your mind ran off to so he chuckled lowly to himself bringing you out of another pheromone induced daze as you shot him a "You're so full of shit" look.

You rounded back to the front, following the deep V of his abdomen falling from each side of his waist joining under the material of the pants. You cursed yourself for not paying more attention to these details before, too occupied with the way he rammed into you without notice on most occasions or in the dark. Reminded of his incredibly stupid confession the previous day that he's been lying to you for longer than he's actually known you, the thirst turned hot with anger in an instant. You weren't going to let his annoyingly handsome face and infuriatingly defined body reel you away from that.

Without a warning you dropped down to your knees before him, catching him off-guard. The rock in his neck bobbed down, looking down at your kneeling form with intentions that were less than fashionable and more into the sexual side of things. You caught that look, planning to throw it right in his face.

Getting closer to his groin, you hooked your fingers in the band of his pants, grazing the skin of his lower abs. The small muscles flexed together in response to the cool brush of your fingers. Then you pulled the pants upwards in a swift move instead of downwards like he probably expected, slightly crushing his groin, at which he let out a grunt of displeasure.

As if you cared about that right now. He sensed the change in mood and knew exactly why you did that. It was payback.

"I guess I deserved that."

You spared him a look of disdain, moving to the side to mark where the band of his pants needed to be pulled a little tighter since they were too loose on his waist. Pulling a safety pin out, you bunched up the extra material pinching it, accidentally and a little on purpose also pinching his skin. You hoped he felt that, even if he held back from showing it. Keep your masculinity intact then.

"You lied to me."

"It wasn't my plan to."

You moved your hand down the leg of his pants, making a mark where they needed to be shortened on each side. He was relatively tall, but the pants ran way longer than his height, coming down all the way to his toes, almost covering them. You rolled them over to his ankles, plying them together with another safety pin for future hemming, along with needles on some other spots on the seams that needed to be sewn again.

Then you got up, walking behind him and took the measuring tape to size up his shoulders from one end to the other. You wanted to see if you could adjust the shirt too, since he kept complaining it was too tight. You stared a big hole into the back of his head as you continued.

"Lying is a choice."

"Not entirely."

"You made that choice."

"I didn't want to make that choice."

Tired of this constant, incessant, frustrating and really idiotic back and forth you walked back to his front, arms crossed over your chest, eyes boring into him with pure, unleashed rage. You looked at him a lot more differently now - less like someone you confided into with your hopes and dreams before, seeing someone who couldn't fathom normal communication like normal people do. He wasn't normal. No, no, he was abnormal, but that wasn't the problem. The problem was that he couldn't understand you and where you were coming from. He simply refused to do the simplest act of showing a person he cared, because he clearly did, otherwise he wouldn't be standing here playing dress-up and being poked by your needles.

"What do you really want from me, Enishi?"

His gaze fell from you to the ground, staying quiet. The man who always had his words with him was suddenly rendered speechless. Just like I thought.

Sighing, you walked to the bed to continue your work since talking apparently lead you nowhere with him. You picked up the original shirt he had underneath the suit, thinking of ways to make it work without having to buy another one. Because that's what people do. They talk and find ways to make it work as complicated and tangled as things seemed. But you'd be damned if you kept being the only one who tried to make it work. Whatever this it was between you.

You sensed he made a move to you, possibly coming to cage you in his space again and act all broody, leaving you with no way to deny whatever ideas he wanted to plant in your head again. You've done this trust and honor rodeo once and it was more than enough.

"Don't move," you said firmly, without turning around to him. "I don't think you want those pins and needles inside your skin all at once." Though he did deserve them. But even if they dug deep into each inch of his skin it still wouldn't compare to the pain he caused in your own heart. You can't compare the pain of a broken heart with that.

"I want to help you find your parents."

Red. That's what you saw when you whirled around to him, anger running in your veins hot and wild as you closed the space between you and got up in his face.

"Then help me find them. Stop making empty promises and do it."

"I'm trying."

"I've tried enough," you looked away from him, keeping to your own corner.

His hand came up to lift your chin, turning your face back to him. Turning your head away was no use. He held you in place with just the pads of his fingers, searching your eyes for the real reason you were acting like this. This wasn't about your parents or him lying to you. Something else hung on your tongue that you weren't saying.

"What do you want from me, Miyu?"

Your hand latched on his wrist with the intention to pull it away from your face. Instead, it wrapped around it, simply holding it. You couldn't find it in yourself to let go of him once you got to hold him.

"Why bother telling you? You won't give it to me," you gritted out, clicking your jaw in fury.

"What if I will?"

"You can't." You won't.

The way you said it implied he couldn't. Not right now anyway with all that was happening and the fact that he took his pride more seriously than your feelings. So of course he took it the wrong way. He was a man after all. If he wasn't intimidated by something he didn't feel like one.

"But he can."

"Oh my god," you slapped his hand away, "this is exactly what I mean. You can't get your head out of your own ass enough to see me without the other alpha or beta males lingering around me. You don't want to see me because you're too full of yourself to let other people in. You refuse to see me because I don't mean anything to you." You pushed a finger in his chest with each statement, getting most of your feelings out there in the open in the hopes he would finally understand you.

"I see you."

"YOU DON'T!" you yelled.

"I DO," he growled, grabbing both sides of your face to bring it closer. His hot breath ghosted over your lips in agony, fear, rage, and every single negative feeling he instilled in you because he felt them all the same. His hold on you only got stronger with the wave of tension you were both riding without a safety net. A safety net that got shredded to pieces the minute he lied.

"Let go," you pushed on his hands, threatening to draw fresh blood if he didn't let go.

"No," he rasped back.

"No?"

"No."

"Get. The. Fuck. Out. Of. My. Room."

"Your room is part of my house."

This was turning into a screaming match quicker than you wanted it to, but it was all his fault. Pushing and pulling on you like a possession instead of a fellow human being. He turned that small, insignificant gust of wind that shook your bond into a fucking hurricane that was ready to destroy it. None of you were backing down from your egos this time. You've had enough of his selfishness and the keeping in the dark. You wanted answers. Answers he couldn't give you, refused to give you.

Why do we have to fight a stupid war as if we're not on the same side? Why does it have to always be so hot and cold with you?

With a huff, he let go of you, hands balled at his sides. You stepped away, going back to the table to grab the tools and get started on the pants before you exploded. He stood his ground. He wasn't leaving until you were done with him. It took more than an argument to make him leave in spite.

You kneeled back on the ground and worked on the material, not another word exchanged between you for the rest of the fitting. The next one he even dared to let out would have your fist right in his face. This might be his house, his room, his money. But the heart that hurt was yours. Not his.

After you checked that the vest and the blazer in the ensemble still fit him, he changed back into his normal clothes and left without a word. Blondie was next up. Hopefully it wouldn't be another yelling contest. There was no telling how much you could keep being peaceful today.

Cho walked in quietly, waiting for your instructions. He took his designated place in the middle of the room, wearing that olive suit you chose for him on your last market visit. The one that made him look like husband material. You got to work in silence, not a joke or insult thrown around like usual. He could tell something was wrong from how quiet you were and how your teeth chewed on that poor lip of yours, soon drawing blood if you didn't stop.

"Are you okay?"

You looked up, caught by the small worry in his eyes, so soft and brown that you could melt. You gave him a small smile and a nod, not at all okay but quietly telling him to let it go. You went back to working in peace, doing the hem on his pants right on the spot, since it only needed some small adjustments, rendering the waistline good to go.

"Sooooo - ouch," he started, yelping in pain as one of your needles poked his wrist accidentally. You apologized, trying to be more careful. "Can we talk now?"

The universe is having a laugh today. You gathered the material of the long sleeves of his blazer around your palms, trying to finish the last stitch at the bottom before you moved to the other.

"I want that too, making things right between us," you started with a sigh, recalling where he left off the other day before you got interrupted. "I just didn't know where to start talking about it all," you played with the material, thumbs smoothing it out over his wrist. You tried to think of what to say next but came up entirely blank.

Grabbing the bits you cut up off the floor, you threw them on the table and went to sit on the bed. He joined, sitting down beside you, shoulder to shoulder. Letting out another sigh, you shifted to lean your head on his shoulder, feeling comfortable enough to sit and think like that. You just needed a minute to collect your thoughts.

He was one of the few souls you made a connection with. Back then, it was all a mix of teenage angst, figuring out life, and fighting off crime lords of all sizes with a dash of falling in love for the first time. He was danger in all forms, kind of a lunatic and a major walking talking red flag, all in one package. You wanted one, you got all three. Now, he was oddly comfort to you, still the same soul you could tell anything to. Still the same guy that threw himself headfirst into something without thinking, a lot more mature about his feelings. He just saw you for who you are in this moment, not what you were or what you could be. He was still a lunatic in his own way. That wasn't going to go away anytime soon. But you wouldn't really change that about him.

Sitting here in his calm presence, touching knees and shoulders together, you knew that whatever this was, it was so much more than just a simple friendship. You've been through things together that would make others crap their pants. Those things tied you to each other in a bond that would never be broken. The past few years apart made it stretch to the point it nearly broke and you didn't want that. And whether that was more because of the way he acted now or the feelings you had for him before, it was a good question. But that didn't really matter. Because they were still here, still as strong and lingering as the day he left.

You accepted that he was going to be a part of you for as long as you live. But will he be a permanent one? That was the one big million gold lingo question you couldn't find an answer to.

Were you still mad at him for leaving you that night? Yes. Was it something that would keep you away from trying to mend what was broken? No. Not in the slightest. So at least you got that figured out.

Exhaustion came over you out of nowhere. Tired from working on all the outfits simultaneously and yet another heated encounter with Enishi, you passed out on his shoulder, crashing from working so long on autopilot. Your head fell to his lap like deadweight and he almost panicked if it wasn't for your snoring breaking through the silence.

This girl, he shook his head.

He came over last night, knowing something was wrong since you walked out of the office so fast. But mophead was already at your side, comforting you the way he wished he could. Being your support like he wanted to be. There was no point in him staying by the door longer than need be so he left with a heavy heart. Right now, he could tell you were pushing yourself way more than you could take it with your parents, the tailor job, even that one silver fox down the hall. So he just let you sleep, glad that he could at least be of some help to you for a little while.

Your head sat so uncomfortable on his lap with your neck bent at a weird angle over his thigh, that it made him laugh. Back when you were still a team, he used to catch you sleeping even on sturdy tree branches or flat against the walls, without a worry in the world. He snickered seeing that your habit of sleeping in the weirdest positions known to mankind hasn't changed at all. Sliding a hand under your head, he raised it up a little when you scrunched your nose in your sleep.

Cautious not to wake you, he propped a pillow under your head letting you rest a little more comfortably even as your legs dangled off the edge of the bed. He moved to let your hair loose from that tight messy bun, struggling with the hair tie until it snapped in his hands, all of your hair falling in your face. He threw the elastic band somewhere in the pile of discarded materials on the floor, hoping you would never find it. Leaning over to see you were still asleep, blowing the locks in and out of your face, he let out a breath of relief, knowing how godzilla you got if someone woke you up. He gathered all the strands of hair and laid them on your back, gently carding through it as you just slept.

It could wait, he thought. For you, I can wait even more.

Feeling watchful eyes on the back of his neck, sharp and poignant. He turned to catch the gray-haired man at the door like he somehow summoned him. He watched the way you were perched on the blonde's lap in comfort, sleeping the day away. The blonde fought a snicker his way, wanting to show him how much he enjoyed his torment. But by the time he looked back from your sleeping form, he disappeared as quick as he appeared. He looked at you, eyebrows drawn in a frown even in your sleep, hand clutching at the material of his pants. That told him all he needed to know.

The sun was already down when you woke up, rather disoriented and confused at why your hair was everywhere but in the bun you put it in. Waving that off together with the man you slept on, you went to get some food since you've been cooped up in your room for too long. Of course the blonde followed in your steps like a duckling, stomach grumbling way louder than yours.

You made something quick, trying not to attract more hungry souls into the kitchen since there wasn't enough to make food for everyone. Going for some quick tomato pasta, you worked on the sauce while he made the table. The pasta boiled quick and the sauce was done before you knew it. You sat down and dug in together straight from the pot, finally catching up properly since you didn't get one moment alone that didn't include teasing or an overly exaggerated display of jealousy from Enishi.

Cho started, telling you about his missions in the time you've been apart and how he encountered the most incredulous people, lost his swords and how he fell out with the Ten Swords. Funny mishaps from his side that ruined most of his missions had you clutching your stomach from how hard you laughed. Close calls with death had you slow down on your food, heart clenching in anger that he was so careless, that you almost didn't meet again. Mentions of really idiotic stuff had you smack him repeatedly for daring to laugh them off, nagging him about his life choices that were often done with half a braincell.

When it was your turn, you told him about the relatively recent chapters of your life, jumping over your depressed pancake days. You talked about your new found love for cooking and how the gang ate your food like it was sent from heaven or something. And he could tell you loved the small attention it got even if you would never admit it. You told him about the way you tried working on clothes from time to time mostly to keep the memory of your parents alive. He knew how determined you were to carry that legacy with you, though you didn't accept it yet. Then you told him about the missions you went on and how they ended in the most odd ways, especially since you joined Enishi.

Enishi up. Enishi down. Left, right, forwards, backwards. Each mention of the gray-haired man had him look down in his plate in jealousy, wishing he was the one you had so much fun with. He wished you were still going on adventures together. Then he remembered it was because of him that wasn't happening. Because he left.

You didn't go into the obvious things that still hung in the air but at least you caught up on the other more positive things that you missed in each other's lives. Finished with your pasta, you went and brought over the leftover pancakes for some dessert. You dug in more confident than you did this morning, savouring the delicacy fully since you didn't know when you will get to eat these apologetic pancakes again, though Enishi fucked up a shit ton lately and there wasn't enough pancake batter to atone for it.

Cho extended a hand to grab one but you slapped it away, circling the plate with your arms protectively. "Give me one," he pleaded.

"No. These are mine and mine only."

"I can assure you those two will not be missed," he pointed to the small ones on the side, hand inching towards them. You shoved them both in your mouth along with the one you were eating, puffing your cheeks up to prove you weren't giving any of them away.

He knew why you were so protective over them - mophead made them for you. You barely talked to each other, avoiding each other for the past few days and doing everything in your power to keep to your corners like you would fuse and blow up if you sat in the same room for too long.

This morning, he was woken up by the smell of the very pancakes you were currently gobbling down faster than lightning. Thinking it was you whisking up the sweet breakfast, he nearly barged in the kitchen only for his hand to stop on the door, shocked to find mophead at the stove instead, struggling to fold the dough together without the jam leaking out. He would've laughed at the way he threw the pan upwards but it would've put him in trouble and he genuinely didn't want to face a sleepless demon that early.

So he walked away on an empty, upset stomach, but delighted at the "Fuck's sake" and "Jesus Christ" Enishi was throwing around. Putting his entertainment aside, he knew if this went on for longer the mansion would become the trenches.

"You need to talk to him."

"What?" you looked up from the pancakes, cheeks still full of them, some jam leaking from the side of your lips.

"You need to talk to mophead," he leaned over and wiped your lips with a tissue. "Just kiss and make up already."

"There's nothing to kiss or make up about," you shrugged, shoulders sagging on the back of the chair defeated on the whole Enishi subject.

"You're like two prepubescent teenagers throwing tantrums left and right," he started, laying a hand on your shoulder in support. "Respectfully, grow the fuck up."

"Excuse you, I am more mature than both of you together."

"Really? Cause that's not what I'm seeing."

"Then humor me," you leaned forward, "what are you seeing, all mighty and all knowing Cho Sawagejo?" He laughed heartily at the pun.

"Thank you for the compliment but that's not important. What is important is that I see a really beautiful woman, aware of what she wants, hiding behind the doubt that he created between you."

That hit the nail on the head way too quick. The small flirty remark didn't go unnoticed tinting your cheeks pink. Unable to process that you were actually doing this, you asked him for advice. "Well, what do you suggest I should do?"

"Talk it out. All of it. Or at least some of it. You can't keep doing this to yourselves as if the problem will magically fix itself if you just ignore it. So just tell him what hurts. If he's not as dense as he seems he will listen. If he doesn't," he paused to roll up his sleeves, "I'll make him."

"Make him what?" you laughed. "Do a dance or something?"

"Whatever my dear princess desires." Not the princess thing again. It made you go all mushy inside. "Oh, shut up you sweet talker."

"I know you love it," he winked. "You should get your eyes checked. They're doing a weird blinking thing," you laughed.

Okay, talking did help. Maybe he does deserve some pancakes. Not these ones though. I'll make him some later.

A stroll around the mansion helped you clear your head for a bit, getting your jumbled thoughts in a much better order. Doing the last rounds before you got back to work, you passed by the armory when a hand pulled you inside and the door shut tight behind you. Ready to throw hands at whoever dared to lay their hands on you like that, you came face to face with the very devil you were trying to steer clear of, scowl on his face noticeable even in the barely illuminated room.

"You've been avoiding me."

"I have not," you deadpanned going back to the door to turn the knob only to find that the door was locked.

"Yes, you have and you're not getting out of this room until we talk."

"Okay, maybe I have. And I have nothing to talk about with you."

"Oh, I think you do."

Placing your head against the door, you let out a deep breath of desperation. You really didn't want to talk it out now of all times. Today consisted of way too much talking. That and the fact that you were fed up with him and his constant, macho display of arrogance, coyness and everything else that was relatively manly and wrong with him.

Your head was still a mess and you were angry at him for acting like that other dimwit as if they knew how you felt and what went through your head. News flash, they had no idea because you yourself had no idea. You needed time to figure it out but they refused to give it to you. So if anyone needed timeout to sit and talk about their feelings in a room full of guns it was them two. Although, on second thought, that didn't sound like such a good idea.

You heard steps shifting closer behind you until they stopped. His hands came to sit on your forearms spinning you around to him. But you couldn't face him.

"I'm sorry," he spoke lowly, sounding honest for once. You had a hard time believing he actually was.

"You say that now but that wasn't what I felt from you for the past few days."

"I know," he said looking down at the floor, hands sliding down to hold your wrists, then his long fingers intertwined with yours. If you weren't so angry and upset with him you would've enjoyed the feeling more, letting him hold you properly, maybe even holding him back.

"Talk to me," he placed his forehead on yours and closed his eyes. Having him so close, right there with you, made some of the earlier rage drift away.

"I am," you exhaled, closing your own, breathing in his sweet scent. "What's going on with you, Enishi? You were so close and now you're so far away."

There was something about him being near you that made you forget everything, including why you were mad at him in the first place. One of the moments of bare vulnerability you had once in a blue moon. Until he opened his mouth and ruined the one moment of peace you got together in so long.

"I need him to leave. Before I tear him to shreds."

You pulled away shaking his hold off of you in an instant. So this was the issue. He was so fucking full of himself that it pissed you so much.

"This again?" you asked in disbelief that you were having the exact same conversation in your room a few hours ago, and every day for the past week.

"Yeah, this again. It's been almost four days and I would like to know why the fuck he's still here."

"We're going to the Shanghai Club tomorrow, as a trio, and then he's gone. We can really use the extra help considering he knows the situation as much as you do." You took a step towards him. "Why does it bother you so much?"

Why was he so hellbent on Cho leaving? I don't stomach him either sometimes but I like having him around. Was this still about competing with him?

"Is someone jealous?" you asked with a small grin. That only pushed his buttons further.

"This isn't about me being jealous!" he threw his hands up in annoyance. "Is that what you want to hear so badly?" he took one step towards you. "That I'm jealous?" another rushed and heavy step in your direction. You backed away from him. "What if I am?" he got so close that your next step backwards had the back of your thighs hit the table behind you. "What are you gonna do about it?" He lifted you up on the table and held you in place, hands digging into your side with possession, breathing heavy with lust, eyes ripping into yours with the hunger of a predator.

"I don't think you want to see me jealous, Miyu."

The way he growled your name with a deeper tone than you were used to hearing from him, so far from his calm and collected persona, shook you to the depths of your core. But not in a good way. He was being possessive. Treating you like you were his. Your heart pounded for him, your head reminding you again that you weren't his for him to act like this. That this was not the Enishi you knew. This would either end in hitting the bed in anger and frustration like the night of the casino mission, or in another screaming match. Pacing the scene, it seemed like the latter.

This was an uncoordinated tango of love and hate where you both stepped on each other to see who would come up on top instead of doing it together, dancing to the never-ending music in sync. You would never be in sync with him at this rate. Your rhythms were off in the worst way possible.

"You're right, I don't. But I also don't want to see you lose it like this over someone who doesn't deserve it. For a fucking bet of all things."

"You know about the bet?" he asked, rough tone falling down a notch.

You pushed him away and got off the table heading to the door. You've had enough of his shit. Why was it so hard to just admit to his feelings and tell you what he felt for you was real and not just something in your head? That he wasn't playing with you. That those unsaid things, his touches, his words weren't just foul play. But he wouldn't. He couldn't.

"Unlock the door," you asked nicely, though your hand started trembling on the knob.

"You're not going anywhere. Did he tell you about the bet?" the betrayal in his voice was poignant, stabbing deep.

The bet was about you. What did it matter who you heard it from? Why did it matter what everyone else thought? Why was it so fucking important to blame everything on someone else instead of owning up to it? Why are you being such an asshole about it?

"I don't give a flying fuck about that stupid bet of yours." There were unshed tears threatening to spill out with every passing second and you weren't going to let them out in front of him. He pissed you off beyond prevail and thought he could get away with manhandling you like that all this time. If anything, he wasn't worthy of seeing your tears.

"Enishi, unlock the fucking door," your whole body shook with rage at this point.

It had to stop now - this waging war, the pushing and pulling and throwing each other off a cliff like that was all your relationship consisted of. Maybe Cho was right and a fuck would do you both some good. But what then? After that? You'd just be left with more questions and more shards dug deep in your heart while he would just continue being his stoic, ice cold self.

He hesitated moving to the door until he saw the way you bit your lip and clutched your hand behind your back, trying to hide the tremor. He went too far. Way too far.

"This isn't over," he went to open the door, holding it open for you. He looked at you as if there was going to be more of this in the future.

"I hate you," you muttered, looking him straight in the eyes, before you took off to your room.

Those were the last words he ever wished to hear coming out of your mouth. With each stride you took, getting farther away, each word plunged deeper into his chest like a knife. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt you like that. But he did it. Heartlessly and cold.

Spending half of the night cooped up in bed finishing that book, you spent the other working on the outfits for the mission. Well, finishing blondie's and yours... Enishi's had a teeny tiny problem... actually, a very disastrous problem. Catastrophic sounded more like it.

Still enraged with him and wondering where he usually got the audacity from, you got to work on his suit a little too emotional, costing you his pants. You didn't mean for it to happen. You just dove into the material, turning them inside out to put an elastic band through them so they wouldn't fall off his ass but the minute you put the scissors to the lining to undo the hem stitch, it went through to the other side, putting a horizontal hole big enough for two fingers to go through.

You held the hole to eye level, eye twitching at the chaos that one simple hole made. Not giving into despair yet, you tried to sew it back together, which worked. Up until you dug the needle too hard making yet another hole. With a groan you threw them to the floor, banging your head against the work table a few times.

I can't let him go out with a hole the size of Antarctica in his pants. Bang. But I don't have pants of the same color either and even if I did they won't match the material of the vest and the blazer. Bang. I am such an idiot. Bang. Dear god send help.

Sad, shameful and more rage-filled, you looked around the mess in your room. No amount of cleaning could keep it together, just like your head for that matter. Groaning, you got up and went to pick up the scattered pieces of fabric with dread. What the fuck do I do now? Do I give him blondie's suit and make him wear something else? That would've been a great idea if there wasn't such a big difference in their heights.

As you reached the vanity table, a roll of what looked like fabric fell down, rolling open on the floor until it unfurled completely all over the carpet. Heavy indigo satin. Crouching down beside it, your fingers padded over the nearest corner, feeling the material. It was sturdy, soft, shimmering different shades of blue either way you turned it. Where have you been hiding all this time?

Gaping back at the ruined pair of black tailored pants still on the floor in a heap, you wondered if you could replicate the seam work on this one enough to make them somewhat wearable. It would be tricky considering it's light seam work on heavy material but it was doable. But that also meant copying the whole pattern of the suit, vest and blazer included. Three entirely different pieces, all worked from nothing with less than a day left till the meeting. Starting from zero...it could work or fail big time. You picked up the material and freed up another mannequin, placing the now unusable suit on another one next to it, getting your needle cushion ready for battle.

The things I do for you, mophead. Raise the paycheck, will you?

You woke up early for once, was what you would say if you did sleep. Busy fighting with fabrics and threads all night, you did fall asleep at one point but on the floor, huddled in a pile of material instead of the blankets. Waking up to the soft sound of meowing, you found Koru next to you, cuddled in a ball under the satin roll. Her head raised to meet you before it fell back on her paws.

"Hello, little friend," you cooed petting her fur.

Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you sat up looking around, finding the room still drenched in darkness, the only source of light being the lamp near the work table. The sun wasn't up yet and sleep wouldn't catch you even if you tried anyway.

Grabbing a blanket and your boots, you huddled up and padded the halls silently, going outside in the garden, sitting in one of the frozen wooden chairs. The wind blew harshly on your face, whirling through your hair with a chill you could feel deep down in your bones. Snow was past its due time, its smell hanging in the crisp air, but there was no sign of it yet besides this cold wall of weather and gray clouds that just refused to leave. Just the kind of mood reflected in the mansion lately.

Throwing your head backwards with a sigh, you closed your eyes. Your chest felt heavy. The clothes on you felt heavy. The very water you chugged down moments ago in the kitchen seemed heavy, stuck in your throat, unable to trickle down inside. Something about the upcoming mission made you uneasy. More uneasy than you've ever felt, beaten down by what ifs.

What if this was another ghost track that would lead nowhere? What if this time someone got badly hurt? What if everything was in vain? What if -

"You're up early, madame," said a voice from your right, putting a stop to your rapidly firing train of thoughts.

You opened your eyes to see who sat down beside you - Wu, dressed in layers warmer than the ones of your blanket covers. The old man gave you a court nod and you smiled at him, happy to see a different face for a change.

"I could say the same about you."

"It is my duty to be up early."

"Oh, that's right," you chuckled, eyes falling back to the ground.

Another gust blew as the silence fell comfortingly between you. You drew in a breath letting it out in a steam cloud, watching as it dissipated in the air before another one took its place.

"Is there something on your mind, madame?"

"I wonder what isn't on my mind."

The old man smiled sympathetically at you, as if he happened to know just how chaotic your mind was right now just by looking at the way you were aimlessly drawing patterns in the ground with the heel of your boots.

"I take it master is giving you a hard time?"

"If anything he's about thirty percent of what's giving me a hard time." Wu gave you a knowing look, convinced that there was more to that confession. "Okay, maybe more than that."

"I'm not going to throw water at the parched ground and say he had it hard because something tells me you already know that," he started. You shifted in your seat, looking forward to have a second opinion from someone who's been around these parts longer than you have, nodding for him to continue.

"What I can say is that he doesn't always mean what he says. He's normally calculated in all he does, thinking it through over and over, but there are times where his sense of righteousness takes a stand without him wanting it to, hurting the very people he wants to protect."

"It still doesn't make it any less than what it is," you shook your head returning your eyes back to the ground.

"And what is that, madame?"

"That he hurt me," you whirled around to him quicker than you wanted to, thing at which the man could only grin. "Wow, that came out easier than I thought it would."

His smile grew wider and turned knowing with more wise advice to give.

"We often bottle up how we feel inside and add to it as time goes on. It's not easy to be straightforward with your honest feelings but it's often what can save you."

He was right. Though it didn't justify the consistent lack of understanding, it did explain the conflict going on inside his head. Because it was the same one going on in yours.

"Thank you, Wu."

"That's quite alright, madame."

Offering him a tight-lipped smile, you patted his arm in gratitude. He was like a paternal figure you missed having around. He often popped his head in your door to check how you were doing, you went to the market for food together, or always plotted behind Enishi's back with something. In a way, you were glad he had someone looking out for him all these years, guarding his back in the impenetrable fortress he built around himself.

"I'm heading down to the market," he announced, standing up from beside you. "Do you need anything, madame?"

"Yes, I do in fact," you nodded, trying to piece together a mental list of everything you needed, not just food wise, but material wise. "Actually, I'll just come with you."

You ran to the market with Wu, splitting up between buying food and getting the boys new shirts since you couldn't alter the ones they had no matter how hard you tried. The material was too prone to damage so you just left them alone, noting down their measurements on a piece of paper that you were currently passing to the lady in the shop at the end of the village, where you bought Cho's suit. Luckily, she still had a few models up to size.

Paying her, you took the bag with the shirts from her hold with a thank you and rushed down to the market to help Wu with the rest of the shopping. The sun was barely rising when you got back, going straight into the kitchen to make some food for everyone. Wu stayed to help you, laying out the table and foiling up some of the food for later too.

The rest of the day went by in a frenzy, running between the kitchen and the sink filled with dishes to the brim like you cooked for a wedding, feeding Koru and finishing up the last details on your dress, too busy to sit and think about another growing pit of unease in your gut.

Afternoon rolled around quick, finding you running about to call the boys over for the final touches on their suits. Knocking on Enishi's door, you found him freshly showered just as he walked out of the bathroom. Relaying the info from the doorframe without sparring him another look, you headed for the blonde's room. From the sound of it, he was still in the shower, taking his sweet time. You banged on his door hard getting sworn at.

"Be in my room in ten minutes or we're leaving without you," you yelled, hoping the urgency of your voice carried over the running water.

"Okay, mom," he yelled back, charming as always.

"Your mom would whoop your ass," you mumbled.

You got back to your room, pulling out their outfits and smoothing out the shirts, looking for any neglected lumps or thread that wasn't where it needed to be. It wasn't long before they walked in, throwing open both doors as they regarded each other coldly. Turning around at the sound, you nearly got a heart attack at seeing both of them only with a towel around their waists, hair still wet, droplets of water running freely down two different but very appetizing packs of abs. Miyu, focus. Choosing to move rather than speak for fear your voice might betray you, you motioned them to the middle of the room, handing them the suits.

Cho pulled out his, marveling at the little extra details you added. On top of adjusting the olive suit to a more fitted form, you added golden cuffs matching the buckles on his boots. Turning it over he saw a pair of stitches in the same golden color under the cuffs on each side instantly recognizing what they were - small twin katanas crossing each other, one of his signature moves.

You sat back watching his face light up with a smile of adoration, sending back a smile of your own. Turning to the other, you saw the look of confusion on his face at the suit shimmering a different shade of blue depending on the intensity of the sunrays bathing the room in warmth.

"I had a few... issues with the other one," you clarified, scratching the back of your neck nervous at what he thought of it.

He said nothing, inspecting the fabric attentively, rushing to the cuffs to be met with glinting silver. Turning it over, he let a small, barely there smile twitch the corners of his lips upwards, more to himself but you caught it. He ran his thumb over his own stitches - a small silver ball on each side, resembling his earring.

They might have been annoying, rash, infuriating even most of the time, but they were both your boys. You wouldn't have it any other way. They were the only ones you could count on to go to battle with. And that was your own silent promise of protection to them.

You waited until they dressed up, going around them for the last adjustments, one at a time. You started with the blonde, fixing the cinch on the waistline of his pants so the shirt didn't look too lumpy or too tucked in. Taking the vest, you helped him wear it, buttoning it from the bottom to the last one on top.

Too engrossed in finishing up, you came up to see him smiling down at you, flashing you a flirty wink, fully aware that you had an audience. You giggled back, thankful for the good vibes coming from at least one person in the room. Motioning him to the vanity, you worked through the tangles in his hair getting it to look more like hair than a bird's nest. You threw his old mess of a bandana and made him another one from scraps, setting it around his head. All that was missing was his full length dark brown coat and he was runway ready.

Done and dusted with the blonde, you sent him away to take Enishi's place on your bed, calling him over. He was surprisingly already dressed up, except for the vest and the jacket. If the weather wasn't as cold, you'd have him go out only in that shirt and the pants currently glowing azure like the sea. The top fit him perfectly, not too tight or too large, just spot on, hitting all the requirements in comfyness, movement and charm.

That shirt looked like an expensive piece of art on him, so flattering on his bulky form, the tousled edges and ivory shade taking it close to sculpture material. He didn't just make art, he was art. Though quite an impatient one at that.

He fought with the buttons on the sleeves of his shirt, trying to close them only to have the little fuckers fall between the pads of his fingers, getting lost in the entirety of his big hand. Coming to a stop in front of him, you smacked his hand away and pulled the sleeve in your grasp, closing the studs easily on first try. You patted down the sleeves from the shoulder down, smoothing out the shirt to its full length and beauty since you didn't have the luxury to iron it.

You helped him into the vest and the jacket, buttoning them up for him just like you did for the blonde. He watched you closely, gaze so focused on your face making it almost impossible to focus. Too intense for the slight shake of your fingers, that look made a finger slip off the jacket button you were trying to close, ripping it off the material and in two.

Hell to the no. With a gasp, you picked it up from the floor trying to figure out how it cracked. Putting the two halves next to each other, it was barely there but it was bright as day - the start of a crack right at the top of the button, slicing through the needle holes.

Why did I not notice it before? I swear I worked on his suit so much, checking everything again and again and it wasn't there before.

Sensing a meltdown he would rather not be part of, Cho stepped out of the room, taking the good vibes out with him.

"You've got to be joking," you let out, running a frustrated hand through your hair.

There wasn't time for this. You still had to squeeze in a shower and fixing yourself up and checking the last bits of your dress, since no one can do all of that for you. A faulty, on the face mishap on your first ever creation top to bottom pausing it all.

He saw you rub the outline of the broken pieces of the button with regret, teeth chewing down on your lip with a pout.

"It's okay."

"No, it's not. Just... just stay here."

Running to the work table, you pulled open all cabinets and drawers looking for a blue button matching the rest on the suit. You found one, though in a different shade of blue that stood out from the others. You couldn't run back out to the market for another one right now. It would have to do.

Taking a needle and some leftover thread, you went back to him and started sewing the button in place of the one that lay in pieces on the table. Just like your nerves, but those were on the cold floor, long in pieces.

Your hands shook, rushing to get it done so you could go and wash up and get ready. But that thread simply refused to go through the needle, dodging every attempt at taking it through the ear, adding to the stress gripping you in waves again. Just get the fuck inside the damn ear, you begged the thread that continued declining your pleas.

Stopping, you laid your head on his chest, looking down at the floor. Your heart was beating fast in your chest again, tremor in your hands threatening to reach the rest of your body. If you didn't calm down now you risked another panic session and there wasn't time for it.

He didn't move, letting you sit there, speaking up deep and collected.

"Breathe."

A simple word that calmed you down instantly like a tranquilizer. You took a deep breath in, letting it out with some of the worry you were feeling, invisible heavy weight falling off your shoulders.

"Try again."

You tried again, this time getting the thread through the needle successfully. The new button was attached in place of the broken one in no time, going to size up the rest of his outfit.

Relatively pleased with the front, you gestured him to turn around and he complied, so you could fix the twisted collar. Getting on your tip toes, you rolled it over properly, patting down the material around his nape. Your hand trailed down from it to lay in the middle of his back, sitting flat. Something told you to keep it there, feeling the beat of his heart for as long as you could. If only we weren't involved in this mess. With another sigh, you let go, stepping away from him.

Grabbing your dress, a towel and everything else you needed, you left for his room to have one of the fastest showers in history. You washed up quickly, rubbing away the stench of kitchen from your hair and your body, replacing it with the first shampoo mix you could find. Once freshened-up, you wrapped your hair in a towel, moving to fix your eyebrows and pluck any other hairs that sat cozy where they shouldn't be. You then dabbed some powder on your cheeks to give them more color, followed by some lip balm on your lips that you found at the market on a good bargain.

Walking out of the bathroom, you took the dress off the hanger and shimmied into it carefully not to rip a seam or make more damage. Fixing it on your body, you walked to the mirror in the corner taking it in.

You ended up working with the ruby velvet rolls for the entire dress. The bodice was a sweetheart corset hugging the shape of your chest and breasts, worked in with a double inner layer for better strength. You didn't go too far on the corset boning, using only a few overlaying stripes of material and steel straws you took from another corset. Falling down your torso smoothly it stopped at your hips, coming down in a V shape, letting the rest of the skirt material fall from your lower waist down to the ground. A slit ran on the side all the way to your upper thigh, allowing for movement in case things happened. They always happened. You also made sleeves, starting from the overturned neckline, hugging part of your collar bones and your shoulders, falling down to your wrists to keep you warm. You couldn't leave it alone and added some small details to yours too - small vines of roses in a deeper red went down the stitch of the sleeves, the back sides of the corset and the seam line of the train falling to the floor behind you. I can't believe it's real. I made it. I made it mom. I wish you could see it.

The only problem you had was that you needed help lacing the corset, too far on the back to reach on your own. You tried pulling the strips but it only bent your wrists painfully, getting nowhere. As if on cue, the owner of the room entered, stopping in his tracks as he took you in from head to toe. You clocked him through the mirror, fully staring with his mouth agape, eyes jumping around at all the details on the dress, blood rushing to your cheeks making them redder than the blush you applied.

Snap out of it. You're still mad at him.

He walked to you, closing the distance in a few slow strides, placing a plate of some finger foods you made with Wu on the table beside the mirror.

"Did you eat?"

"I'm not hungry."

Your stomach grumbled ratting you out. Okay, maybe you were hungry, starving sounded more like it, and you would've eaten if you didn't have so many things to do.

"Eat something. I'll lace up your thing."

"I've got it-" you started, spinning to walk off only for two arms to hold you firmly in front of the mirror.

"Just let me do it," he said softly, looking at you through the mirror.

A huff later, you grabbed onto a fried meatball and some bread popping them in your mouth. His fingers moved your hair over your shoulder, slightly brushing the exposed skin down your nape and between your shoulders. You gulped at the minor touch, raising tingles on your skin. He picked up the dangling strings of your corset, lacing it up as you held onto the front with the hand that wasn't busy holding food.

Nostalgia washed over you, taking you back to the night of the casino mission, when he came over to your room just as you were looking for help to lace up your corset. He rolled the strings around his fingers the same nimble way he did back then, pulling the bodice tighter around you. You gulped down the rest of the food with air pockets, almost chocking at how close he was. So close you could feel his breath hit the back of your right shoulder.

Since you went double the cover and durability on the top, it didn't need to be too tight. Fully laced up to the last golden eyelets at the back just above your hips, he made a bow knot drawing his bottom lip between his teeth in concentration. Pulling the two round loops to an equal width he let go off the ends, smoothing them to the velvet on the side. He caught your mother's necklace laying on the table. Picking it up he placed it around your neck, in its rightful place, placing your hair back over your shoulders.

Now that you were dolled up and laced up, the outfit looked even better on you. But something still bugged you. The dress sat a little too low, pressing the jewels on your chest together too hard. You went to pull it a little higher forgetting you had food on your hands so you turned around to him.

"Can you-," you blushed looking down at the floor in shame. You've been butt naked in front of him before but this was different. "Forget it," you mumbled.

He hated this. The fact that you couldn't talk to him and refused his help. But one look at your middle and the way your arms crossed over it and he saw why you were uncomfortable. Before you could run away again, he stepped closer and his fingers dug around the upper part of the corset at the back, pulling it higher so it sat better on your chest, giving your babies room to breathe and not get squished. The warmth radiating off his fingers was so welcomed on your cool skin. You had to stop a whine when they left your skin, snapping the velvet back in place.

"We'll be out front when you're ready," he said, letting his eyes fall over you one more time to take you in like it was the last time he would see you, then he left.

"So, the plan is go inside, talk to the guy to get the info, guard your ass and get back to the safety of my bed," said Cho, reiterating a version of the plan you went over in the carriage, that was more fit for his tastes.

"Yeah, basically," you replied.

Stationed a few buildings in front of the club, out of sight of the guards patrolling around, you scouted the place having not been in this part of the city before. It wasn't as heavily guarded as you thought it would be, but there was no telling how many people were inside. Scouting would've been easier if it wasn't so damn cold. The velvet and the coat kept you warm more or less, but your face was getting stabbed by the chilly night air. You sniffed to keep the liquid in your nose inside, eyes tearing up from the cold wind cutting mercilessly through every layer.

Too busy trying to gauge out the number of armed men around the place, you didn't notice Enishi approaching until he was standing directly in front of you. His hand lifted to your face, thumb swiping over your cheek bone tenderly. You were confused until you felt the warm droplets cloud your vision slightly before more of them fell. A few tears managed to roll out down your cheek. The stoic look that he gave you for the last few days was still there, just slightly contorted to a softer gaze.

"Why are you crying?"

At the sound of his stern voice you slapped his hand away. Soft eyes like a deer, voice sharp like a razor.

"I'm not crying, it's just too fucking cold to exist at the moment," you offered him a tight-lipped smile, telling him to fuck off kindly.

"She's right," piped up Cho, shaking beside you even though he had four layers on. "I feel icicles growing in my nostrils. Wanna see?"

"Ew, that's gross," you pushed him away from you before you saw something that would haunt you for a lifetime.

"Let's go in."

Enishi lead the way and you followed with Cho close behind, stopping in front of the guards. While Enishi made quick talk with the guards, one of the them on the side wiping the barrel of his gun with a cloth looked at you suspiciously. Like he knew you from somewhere. You smiled nervously trying to get the tremors in your spine to dissipate. He threw you a weird look before he got back to his gun. You let out a breath of relief when Enishi signalled you to follow him inside.

The long entry corridor was so dimly lit, stretching into a balcony overlooking an even darker area. Red and gold was everywhere. Burgundy satin veils dropped from the ceiling. The chandeliers glinted white gold with so many crystals layered on different levels that it would take you years to count them all on just one. Gold was all over the floor with glittery specks sparkling even in the dark. A big row of tables was scattered in the middle, all of them occupied, including the seats on the big bar at the side. Even the shelving holding the bottles was crystal-like, glowing. They didn't really need any lighting in here, the décor did it all by itself.

Cho offered you a hand before Enishi could, and you took it, descending down the rest of the steps. Walking around the tables, all eyes moved to you at once, some of the loud chatter ceasing to a halt. Some stared at your attire, disgustingly winking or sneering your way. Others quickly scanned you in dismissal to see if you're a threat or just a mere mortal walking around gods of the underworld, way more engrossed in the discussions they were having than to regard you. You assumed those were conversations one was better off not knowing about if they truly treasured life and all its beauties.

Suddenly, Enishi stopped. You halted in your steps too and before you could question it he turned to you, searching around for any potential intruders to your conversation. He leaned closer to you, looking for privacy from even the blonde behind you.

"Let me do the talking," he said, deep dark eyes focusing on you with authority. The kind of authority you didn't like. You opened your mouth to complain until he continued. "If they find out who you are, we might not get out of here alive. So, please, just let me take care of it this time."

This wasn't a warning for you to behave yourself. This was a warning that you were in the middle of a temporary ceasefire and shit could go sideways so fast if you weren't careful. There would be nothing any of you could do to stop it. Not even firing a bullet or breaking a neck. You had to keep a low profile if you wanted both the information and getting out of here the same way you walked in - unharmed.

With a scoff that you hoped didn't go unnoticed, you motioned for him to go on. He threw you another look in seer warning and to your disappointment, he turned back before you could tell him to shove it somewhere the sun doesn't shine. Frankly, you could defend yourself from anything after all the training he put you through. There was a part of you that just wanted to take matters into your own hands, get the info, put some holes through a few of these murderers that the world would be better off without anyways. But the other part, the one that was uneasy and worked overtime to tell you everything was going to go wrong all day, agreed with him. So you just followed behind, keeping your wits to yourself.

Advancing through the field of vipers, you arrived at the far back of the open crowd of tables, drenched into a darker black, the earlier gold at the entrance disappearing into thin shapes on the floor, falling almost invisible if you didn't squint. A deep velvety curtain separated you and finding out more about your parents whereabouts. The same curtain kept behind the sea of monsters that could rip all three of you apart without a sweat. You turned to Cho, catching his Adam's apple bob up and down in a quiet gulp. Even the freak in him that always looked for a fight was scared shitless.

Facing the curtain once more, you took in a shaky breath with eyes shut tight to calm the storm in your heart a little. This was it. If it wasn't... it was over. You'd stop searching. You would get on with your life and start anew somewhere else where no one knew you. You would get to finally live. With an empty, withered, aching heart for the people you grew fond of in such a short time and the ones who have been lost for even longer. Always grieving something that was never found. Always mourning what you found and couldn't keep. Never at peace. But living.

A hand circled around yours, squeezing tight in what could only be reassurance. You knew that squeeze well enough by now. There was no need to second-guess it. Because when you opened your eyes and followed it to the wide, determined pair of shoulders in front of you, you found the man that stood tall beside you all this time. The only person that has been your rock and did everything in his power to help you, even if his first step to you was deceiving. Even if most of what you built together was a lie, it was the sweetest one you've ever felt. The only one who awakened your soul to the brink of both life and death.

The man your heart will always long for.

The curtain was roughly drawn open by a burly guard, rattling to the side of the frame. The hand holding yours fell abruptly, the side of his face hardening as he forged ahead into the fire. Smoke hung in the air, the smell of opium pungent and raw, binding to every breath you took. If you could get a penny for every illegality you've laid eyes on since you entered the place, you would be filthy rich by the time you took three strides in any direction. Because these people made money in one breath, while others laid their lives on the line to die.

This room was larger than the outdoor reception, going around in a spiral on three different levels with red booths and tables lined up on each side. From the immense height of the place this was more of an inner hall, awfully resembling a theatre, definitely used for more private endeavours. Another staircase led down into the middle where a big group of guards and possible triad members played an intense game of blackjack. Supporters on both sides cheered so loud it could make your ears bleed if the volume raised up the slightest decibel. Some hands punched the air in defeat, others laid on the holsters of their guns and sword hilts ready to slice whatever they found inconvenient.

There was one thing they all had in common - sullen eyes, dull of everything but the want for blood. You haven't seen something like this since your time in the fight club and it made shivers go down your spine, spiking some adrenaline into your blood.

Thankfully, Enishi didn't descend down there, but took a right after the guard, leading you through the tables on the right to a set of stairs going up in a marble spiral. You couldn't even see the end of it. You followed the guard in eerie silence that was soon replaced by the ambient sound of violin strings. Thinking you were imagining things from the lack of sleep, you shook your head, but once you stepped on the second level of the hall, the music filtered through your ears.

The tune was almost too hypnotizing not to make you sway a little, like a cobra putting her victims in a trance before it devoured them limb by limb. Though the player was no cobra.

Walking further inside, your eyes went straight to the source of the sound, down in the middle of the pit of dire crime where even more people were dealing their demise in drugs and guns. There, a woman dressed in one of the finest yellow silks you've ever seen, held the instrument close, strumming it skillfully with her eyes closed. Her long luscious black hair, stopping shy of her lower back, moved in sync with the bow on the strings. She was deep into the melody reaching a building crescendo that kept you so focused you couldn't take your eyes off her.

The rising vibrato drove loud around the hall, straining with more tense and rough movements on the violin's body, rushing to reach the climax of the melody. The spike in rhythm made your own heart skip a beat, reaching an auditory high not even the strongest drugs could give you. She carried it all the way through to the last string where the song drew to a stable cadence, slowly drowning out with the fines of piece. And she opened her eyes.

She might've looked like the personification of life itself whilst she played, charging the air with her intense aura, but her jet black eyes told a different story. They were completely hollow, devoid of any of the feelings she instilled in you with the violin mere moments ago. She moved so gracefully even just to simply place her violin down. But she seemed so lost, somewhere inside her mind with no way to get out. Stuck inside this burning world she probably never wanted to be a part of. Just like you. Though you were on the other side of it all, where you still had a choice in your actions.

On your way to circle around the open arch, you passed by her and her eyes met yours briefly. You mustered a small smile her way, appreciative of her strength. She didn't smile, possibly aware of the repercussions if she so much as regarded you. But her eyes turned from those big, sullen orbs to the smallest, barely there crescents, squeezing in acknowledgment.

None of you wanted to be there tonight. Hopefully, you would both make it out for the better.

Cho being, well, his charming self, passed her one of his flirtatious smiles at which she didn't respond with anything other than ignorance, turning back to the bar behind her. Damn, rejected at first sight.

Following through to one table right in the middle of the arch, your eyes stayed fixed on the ring downstairs taking in the rest of your surroundings, looking for any sign you needed to pull your pistols out.

Enishi stopped and passed a court nod of greeting to the man sat down on the other side. He pulled out a chair for you, then sat down at your left. Moving your eyes to the man, you scanned him with suspiciousness. He looked like your average national secrets keeper, roughly middle aged with a small face graced by dark eye bags, high cheekbones and the beginning of an unkept moustache lining above his lips that kind of complemented the sneer he greeted you with.

The black wool jacket he wore over a neatly tucked-in shirt told you he bought his way out of life-threatening situations enough times to build a fortune. No commoner walked around like that. That and the fact that he looked way too confident for someone that was hunted by half the country for being in the know.

Shifting in your seat, you kept to your corner while Enishi made small talk with him. They talked about the state of current politics, the development of the inner and outer trade, touched on the business part, all of those really boring things to focus your attention on. The white wine you were served a while ago still swerved in your glass, captivating you much more than the conversation. Until your family name was mentioned and your attention was back on track.

"I heard you had information about the whereabouts of the Hikari's?" asked Enishi, diving straight to the point since he was clearly annoyed by the man's endless babbling.

"I do in fact," said the man with a tilted corner of his mouth. He laced his hands together and leaned forward on the table, eyes scouring his surroundings in security. "Did you bring what I asked for?"

What he asked for?, you lifted an eyebrow in confusion. I mean, there was no way he would've agreed to this if he wasn't going to get something out of it.

While you tried to figure out what that something could be, Enishi put a hand inside the pocket in his jacket pulling out a piece of paper, laying it out in the middle of the table, open wide for anyone to take a peep at it. A travel pass. Marked with official government seals for both in and out of the country, over an indefinite period, under a false name. His golden ticket out of hell.

The fucker put on a million dollar smile extending a hand to take it when Enishi's own hand laid on top of it at the speed of light, fingers stretching to cover the whole thing. His lips turned into a spine-chilling smirk directed at the man on the other side.

"Tell me where they are and you're a free man."

"One of them in exchange for the paper."

ONE?! I THINK THE FUCK NOT.

There was no way he was negotiating the lives of two people for a nicely written piece of paper with a gold insignia on it. This was fucking ridiculous.

Enishi voiced out your very thoughts, though more composed and in order than you would be able to at the moment because this rat was genuinely getting on your nerves. The more you looked at his smug smirk, the more your fingers twitched really violently under the table towards your pistols.

"The deal was for both of them."

"Yeah, well, things change."

You've got to be shitting me. Things change? The weather changes. My mood changes. It became really murderous right now, you know.

One look at Enishi and he was fuming way more than you were. His tongue pushed the inside of his cheek impatiently, hands fisting the material of the pants and his knee jerked up and down in a nervous tick. Knowing him, this was bad. Really bad.

Keeping your eyes ahead, you reached out to your left where your hand found his, enveloping it around his fist and giving it a good squeeze. You watched his eyes blink repeatedly, body relaxing instantly under your touch. He opened his fist, letting go of the fabric, and turned his own hand upwards giving you a tighter squeeze in response. All is okay, it said.

He knew the brute was trying to pour enough gasoline over you until a spark flew and lit the whole room on fire. But he wasn't going to give him the luxury of an easy way out.

Rolling his shoulder back and leaning over the table, he fixed the man with that one icy glare that meant instant death for him if he answered his question wrong in the slightest.

"It's quite a big bargain, considering two lives in exchange for one and a piece of paper, don't you think?"

Enishi let every word paint with malice, making the threat loud and clear that he wasn't going anywhere without relaying the information you came for. At least not in one whole piece of meat. He sat back in his chair, disappointment bright as day on his face, clearly rethinking his escape route. Seen as he couldn't come to an understanding with the man next to you, his gaze came to you, eyebrows drawn in bold challenge as he took you in for an easy target.

Keep your cool, Miyu. Don't lose it. Stay quiet.

His eyes walked all over your face, spending a little too much time on your red lips for his own good.

Keep calm.

Then they moved down your neck, bathing in the grace of your exposed collar bones, slowly diving down to your humble but really open cleavage.

Don't be rash.

The corner of his lips turned up into a grin, slowly growing into a toothy smile you wanted to bash in until all that shone was blood. Maybe tearing his mouth off his face and feeding it to a pack of dogs on the street would be good riddance too so no one would have to deal with him again.

"Do I know you from somewhere?"

"Not from the places you probably frequent," you shot back curtly.

Well, too late to back out now.

"And which do you think those might be?" he asked, his attention solely on you now, his new object of entertainment.

You could feel Enishi tensing again beside you, his sharp glare digging into the side of your skull willing you to not say one more word. Cho tensed behind you too. But you being you, letting your conscience hit the ignore button, leaned forward and continued, voice dripping with charm and sweetness. The very thing this bloke's kind loved to death.

"Oh, I wouldn't know," you replied with a small giggle, laying your chin on top of your entwined hands. "But if I were to take a guess, it would be somewhere illegal, with a lot of guns and enough money to shove in the panties of naked women," you counted on your fingers each thing, getting more disgusted with each excited nod of his at your words.

The man stood quiet for a moment, the suspense of the repercussions following your small but meaningful conversation really killing the vibe. By vibe, you meant the patience of your chaperones that would face palm right now if they could.

Before anything unexpected happened, the older man threw his head back making a really heinous sound that resembled a laugh. Letting a half-smile on your lips, you turned to Enishi with a Why the fuck is he laughing? look at which he was just as puzzled, then turned back to the oddity in front of you that didn't belong to the human species in any way.

"I like this one," he howled, clearly finding you amusing.

"That's too bad," Enishi let out under a breath.

"And why is that?" he asked, not taking his curious eyes off of you at all, trying to intimidate you.

You were about to deliver another piece of your mind when Enishi went on, stating your status crystal clear.

"She's not on the market," he growled, the possessiveness in his tone unmissable for anyone around the table. That made the creepy stare finally leave you, replaced by the dark one of your gray-haired man.

"That's a shame," said the man, leaning back in his chair. "She would've been a great add-on to the deal."

"No more negotiations. You either take what we already offered or we're leaving."

The smug grin on his face turned into a scowl. You had the upper hand here, not him. He could try and turn it up and down and sideways, but he either took his freedom at the cost of spilling the information or being a dead man. More dead than the world already wanted him to be.

The static silence was all of a sudden filled by enthusiastic yells from below, belonging to the group playing cards two levels down. That veered you away from the fact that the man's eyes fixed on you with a different meaning this time. He took in your necklace again then your hair and your eyes and spoke before you could even catch it.

"I do know you," he started, amusement morphing into a knowing look.

Yeah, right.

"If you're going to say something like 'you're the girl of my dreams' I'm gonna have to stop you right there-"

"You're that troublesome Hikari swine that I've been trying to hunt down for the Triads all this time," he chuckled darkly.

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

This wasn't supposed to happen. There's no way he was telling the truth. He must be bluffing to get the paper. There's no way anyone here knew you. Then it dawned on you. The guard at the main entrance cleaning his gun. The men at the reception. The very lizard who called you to negotiate his freedom. This was a trap. Enishi had a mole in his mafia. You were fucked.

"Say a word to anyone and your head will fly off your shoulders before you take a breath to scream for help," grunted the man beside you.

The chill running down your spine wasn't comforted at all by that threat. The nerves in your stomach weren't settled by it either. This was bad. So, so, so, so catastrophically bad.

It wasn't even your fault because the guy made it clear he knew you. He had information on you. He knew who you were. He knew you were looking for your parents.

Your gut was right again. The whole night went wrong. Your parents' safety was compromised, same with the safety of the three of you.

"I don't have to say a thing," he chuckled darkly. "This was the plan all along."

One lift of his index finger had every conversation and extra sound around you ceasing immediately. Guns cocked and swords unsheathed from every side of the level, pointing straight at you. Even the poker game downstairs stopped, followed by confused grunts at why the game stopped.

This meeting was indeed a trap. A possibility that none of you even considered in the slightest. You walked straight into the fire and you didn't even feel the very embers of hell burning under your feet. Nothing could even warn you of this. Not even your gut.

A quick glance around told you there were about twenty of them. Just on your level. You didn't know about the other ones and you had to count the pack at the poker table, the other people in the main room, the reception and the guards from outside. At most you'd get through half of them and meet your death in this stinky crime club. Or apply for a seasonal membership. Maybe that would chill the waters a little. Or money. Enishi had a lot of that. He would surely spare a few bags for charity-

"So you don't know where they are. Good. That settles it," concluded Enishi rather flatly, grabbing your full attention as you whirled in your seat to gape at him.

Settles what? My foot through your face once we get out of here? Probably as corpses but still.

"No, that doesn't settle it-" you were cut off by the whoosh of a knife flying from beside you.

It was too fast to catch who launched it, though when you traced the location of the sound, you saw Enishi's hand wide open, fingers flexing in the opposite direction. Your eyes trailed there spotting two silver knives, not bigger than three inches, lodged right between the scowling man's eyes, blood trickling down the side of his nose and onto the white sheet on the table, drenching it crimson.

Good luck getting that spot out, was your first thought. There went my only shot at finding my parents, was your second. Your third was swimming somewhere in the sea of contemplation when several voices shouted your name together with a rough hand yanking your arm to the left.

"GET DOWN!"

Before you could register anything, Enishi pulled you off the chair behind the table he threw over in a haste. Your instincts took a while to come around but once they kicked in your guns were up and taking aim, shooting over the safety of the table edge.

Enishi covered you from the side, sending smaller knives along the the lining of the middle level, launching them so hard they dug deep into anyone who even thought of aiming their gun at you.

Cho guarded your back, swords already unsheathed from the inner holds of his coat, cutting into the bullets flying at you. Thank god Enishi sharpened the blades before you left otherwise he wouldn't have been able to cut anything, not even a piece of cake.

You took out quite a few of the men rushing in from the front, taking cover behind the still upright body of the man who screwed you over. At least he proved useful for once in his probably completely miserable life. You shot one on the right, hid behind him, then shot on the left. But the safety block around you, ensuring your cover, dispersed way too quickly.

Cho dove into the crowd further behind you, trying to keep guards from the lower and upper levels from flooding inside. Enishi advanced ahead with your bullets, taking on the ones still on your level, now sporting swords since their guns ran out.

Who even expected this to turn into shooting practice? Because unfortunately you ran out too of bullets too. Placing your pistols back in their straps on your thighs, you fixed your dress and blew a breath.

Time to crack some skulls.

You stretched your arms, unaware of the incoming tackle coming from behind you. Two arms, smaller and thinner than yours, wrapped around your middle, the impact of the collision throwing you to the floor. You crashed over on your back as the person's hands dove right to your neck to strangle you, pinning your body down to the ground with theirs. Yellow silk flew in your vision immediately recognizing who it belonged to - the violinist.

She pushed down on your neck, unskilled and leaving way too much room for you to move. Since she was weaker than you, it was easy to turn the boat over by throwing her to the side in one swift kick of your leg. She flew off of you, crashing into the side of a booth. You coughed up for air since she got a pretty good hold of your neck. That horrible white wine climbed up your neck and you shoved it down deep. So not the time stomach. Come on. You handle shittier alcohol better than this.

You got back up from the floor just as she did, running at you with pieces from a broken glass. Her hand flailed about trying to graze you as you avoided her faster than she could move. One swing of the sharp glass had you bend backwards over the marble railing, nearly slipping and falling to your doom. Having had enough of her antics, you kicked the glass out of her hand and grabbed a hold of her wrist, spinning her to land face down on the side of the bar. She elbowed you hard and threw another piece of glass at you that did cut your shoulder enough for your hold on her to slip.

That's it, fuck girl code.

You grabbed a fistful of her long hair, wrapping it around your palm until you had a good hold on it and shoved her against the wooden surface multiple times and dragged her all the way to the end of it until she slid down to the ground. She still got up on wobbly legs, red dripping from her broken cheekbone staining the nice sunny yellow color of her dress. Letting out a growl like a wild cat, she launched herself at you again, grabbing onto your necklace from behind trying to choke you with it. You spotted a nearby gin bottle on a vacated table and grabbed it, smacking it down hard on her head, knocking her out unconscious. She finally let go of you, landing splat on the floor.

Why do all my attempts at making friends turn into befriending backstabbers?

Now that you were free and ready for some actual fighting, you noticed the level was empty. You ran to the stairs and got down to the first floor, spotting Enishi busy slashing people into shish-kebabs.

I should help around.

It wasn't long before you took notice of your next victims. Drawing backwards to the wall, you ran to the marble ledge of the circle at full speed, jumping over it to land right in the middle of the poker table, coins and cards rattling off the table at the impact. Lifting your gaze, you just so happened to make eye contact with the very people that made your last casino visit a tremendous pleasure.

"You," snarled the big man as he threw his hands on the table, staring you down like you killed his entire clan or something.

"Did you guys know you suck at poker?" you smiled at him and his two men, showing your teeth on purpose to piss him off. "You owe me money, sweetcheeks."

That remark was enough for him to slash his sword over the table. You jumped over it rushing forwards to kick him right under his chin. That sent him backwards in a daze struggling to keep upright. The tip of your boot scrapped his nose good, blood dripping down the side of it.

While he got his bearings around, you took on his men, fighting both of them at once. They were weaponless, trying to use the sheer force of their grip to reach for you but you were faster than them. On grabbed your arm and the other your leg and you served them exactly what you served your idiots the other day - a spin with a kick straight to the jaw and a fist right in the chest. They stumbled backwards then came at you again. One sent a fist and the other a kick your way and you jumped forwards through the small space between them, tumbling back on the ground to sweep their feet from under them. They both hit the floor with a thud, grunting in pain. Walking over to them with your fists ready in another fighting stance, their eyes widened and they scurried off the floor, falling over each other on their way to the exit.

Tsk, pussies.

Turning around, your smile faded instantly at the sight of the very angry mafia boss you beat at his own game, stole from, and now gave a nosebleed to. He was way bigger than you in size, towering over you. This was a rendition of David and Goliath you weren't excited for at all. You cracked a nervous smile and tried to run but he grabbed you like a toy, lifting you off the ground and into the air, way above his own height. You swung your legs forwards, wrapping them around his neck to straddle his face trying to strangle him.

He let go of your waist and grabbed at your dress instead, stumbling around to shove you off. You flexed the muscles of your thighs as hard as you could to cut his airflow when he ran straight into a wall. Your back collided with it roughly, loosening some of your grip on his neck but not enough to get you off. This wasn't going to work. So you changed your angle, rounding around to his back like a rodent, thrusting a strong elbow into the back of his head before he could even reach for you. The blow sent him falling face first into the floor, diving like a ship to its wreckage. He tried to get up murmuring some words you couldn't understand. You leaned closer and he grabbed your hair smacking you into the poker table.

"Little bitches like you belong in the brothel," he spat out with a bloody sneer.

That was enough to spur your rage and smack your head right into his, falling backwards on top of him. You punched him with all you had, until his face morphed into a deep garnet. His eyelids were swollen, his cheeks bruised and that sneer entirely gone from his cut lips. He was still alive but barely recognizable when you got up. "That's what you get for grabbing and talking to a lady like that. Learn some fucking manners," you spoke to the hunk laying still as a boulder.

The loud clinking of swords echoed from above. Your eyes travelled up just in time to see a lock of blonde hair tipping dangerously over the railing on the top floor. Checking on Enishi that he was okay with his own hoard of snarling men with blades, you ran to the stairs hoping to get to blondie before it was too late and he was flunked over like a chicken learning how to fly.

You heaved breaths like you ran a marathon, body working only on the rush of adrenaline you got from beating up the boss of the Daos. Stopping by the second level to take a breather, you leaned over the railing for support. Your eyes darted downwards at the spiral, looking at how far away from the ground you were already.

Now's not the time to freak out. Let's save blondie.

His voice echoed with a curse just as you reached the doorframe of the third level, finding a burly guard holding him by the collar of his shirt over the railing. His legs stopped running on air, hands gripping the guard's tight. He looked to the side at the drop below him and yanked on the guard's hand again. Looking left and right, you saw no one else on the floor and took off running towards the guard. You jumped high in the air and aimed a kick at his head just as it whirled around at you. You caught him off-guard, heeled foot colliding with the side of his face, pushing him to the side into a table without realizing that he let go of Cho in the process.

Your heart stopped watching the blonde fall, thinking that was his end. But you got too ahead of yourself. He grabbed a hold of the edge holding on tight to it as you let out a breath. Jesus Christ. You rushed to help him over to the safety of ground, sliding your hands under his arms and grabbing onto his shoulders to hoist him over. He grabbed onto you too, just not in the right area.

"That's my ass, you moron," you hissed, struggling to get him over.

"Sorry," he grunted. "Actually, not sorry."

That made you yank him so hard you ended up falling on the floor together. Staring at the ceiling, you caught a few breaths before the guard got back up and rushed at you with a sword. The blade came down on you as you both rolled to the side. Cho got up before you to pick up his swords, going back to dueling the guard while you aided with a kick here and there. Where you punched his side, the blonde cut his other one. The guard grunted in pain but continued attacking you.

One misjudged lift of your leg had him grabbing onto it with his free hand pulling on it and spinning around, tossing you into a table. The side of your head collided with the wooden edge hard, sending your vision swimming in black and white. Cho spared a quick glimpse at you before he attacked the guard violently, slashing his blade right across his chest, both of his arms and his legs, his back and everywhere he had exposed himself. He did it so many times until the guard fell to his knees in a pile of his own blood.

The world was a red haze around you, ears ringing and stinging at the same time. That awful wine climbed back up your throat nearly getting out this time. You were struggling to get your eyes to work when Cho kneeled before you dropping his swords to the floor. One of his hands settled on your shoulders trying to get you to focus while the other brushed somewhere over your right temple. He ripped a piece of table cloth and placed it over the open wound as you winced. The small prick of pain sobered you up enough to blink properly, slowly getting your vision back to normal.

"You're bleeding," he tapped the cloth gently gathering the small drops of red around the right side of your face, concern lacing his voice. You took his hand away, stopping his worried dabs at your scalp. "I'm okay."

His eyes dove down from the cut on your head to the one peeking from under your hair. He moved your hair away, brushing a thumb over the skin of your shoulder, grounding his teeth in annoyance.

"Who did this?"

"You have awful taste in women," you laughed, regretting it when it sent another pang of pain to your head. "I took care of her already."

"The violinist?! Seriously?" You nodded dabbing the cloth some more on your head. "Damn, she got you pretty good."

Honey orbs came back up to yours after he searched every other inch of you for more injuries only to find your knuckles bruised and bloody. But nothing else that looked life threatening like the gash on your head. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm good. Let's go kick some more ass and get the fuck out of here."

He straightened and gave you a hand, pulling you up to your feet. "I'll go check the other levels. Stay safe, okay?"

"You too. Meet you downstairs."

Enishi stumbled downstairs in the poker area with two crossed swords above him threatening to cut his neck open. He kicked the men in the shins and threw their swords away, landing a hit in one's stomach that ricocheted into the other's, getting rid of them both with a roundhouse kick. Another one came at him and he grabbed his jacket pulling him back to smack right into an incoming blade attack. That one got impaled before he even saw it coming.

Suddenly, even more pooled in with loaded guns aiming right at him. At the noise of open fire, you rushed to the edge of the railing watching as he dodged a few bullets and managed to get cover behind the poker table but there were too many shots flying through, sending splinters of wood everywhere. They were shooting with long bulky rifles as if this was a hunting party.

You had company too, bigger and wider than the last one coming for hand to hand combat. Defending his hits as best as you could, you tried getting some in with knee kick into his abdomen. Your fists aimed for his head until he dropped down to the floor and swiped your legs from under you, landing on your back with him on top of you strangling you.

I'm getting tired of this choking kink.

"MIYU, A LITTLE HELP OVER HERE IF YOU MAY!" shouted Enishi, throwing off a guard that pinned him to the floor out of nowhere, just in time to roll out of the way of more bullets flying past his head.

You looked around finding no weapon in grabbing distance. Reaching your hand down, you lifted one of your legs up and wiggled your fingers to grab a hold of one of your pistols. Your air supply was slowly shortening seeing stars when you finally got a hold of the handle, bringing it up and bashing it into the man's head over and over and over again until he fell to the side. Once you got some usable air back inside you pulled yourself over to the railing.

"DON'T YELL AT ME!" you yelled back down, scrambling to your feet to look for a gun around the place. You found a few, plying them off the hands of the bodies attached to them, but most were empty of bullets so you threw them back on the floor.

"I'M NOT YELLING AT YOU. I'M BEING SHOT AT IN CASE YOU HAVEN'T NOTICED," he yelled back. You knew he didn't have a lot of time before a bullet reached him. He fought like a monster but he wasn't bulletproof.

As you rushed around, frantically searching for anything that could shoot long distance, you caught sight of the barrel of a gun peeking from under a table. It was a rifle. Its carcass still had a bunch of unused bullets in it. Bingo.

"HOLD ON."

Running back to the margin, you dropped down laying on your belly, positioning the barrel through the opening in the ledge, opening fire on the flank downstairs. You got most of them in the shoulder or the chest, aim slightly blurry due to the wound on your head and the huge distance to the ground.

Enishi looked at you for a second, eyes not worried but prideful. You took notice quickly as you charged the bullet carcass focusing on the task at hand. If there wasn't so much uncertainty between you right now you might've said it meant a lot. And it did but not right now.

Too focused on taking out the men at the entrance you didn't see the incoming attack. You rolled out just in time before a bottle crashed down on you in payback, finding the violinist at your demise again. Does she ever like read the room? She grabbed a chair and whirled it around trying to hit you with it. You grabbed one of your own hitting her with it and she fell to the ground. You checked she was knocked out for good this time.

Running to the staircase, you only got to the first step before you heard shouting echoed from the lower levels. Quickly backing up into the level, you looked for another way out only to find none. The staircase was your only shot. Veering around, you caught sight of the red drapes adorned on the side of a marble pillar, going all the way to the higher ceiling.

Spotting a sword under the guard Cho cut up like a chicken on a gyros stick, you ran to it trying to pull it from under him. Pushing his body over with your leg, you twisted it on all sides pulling on the handle until you finally pried it out. Without a second thought, you ran to the ledge leaning on it to grab a veil. It took several tries nearly meeting your doom since the fabric was drilled into the pillar. You kept trying. When you got a solid grip around it you tugged on it hard until you yanked it free from the side and the pillars it was stuck to under, pulling it over to you.

Supporting your weight on one of the pillars you got up on the ledge, dropping the rest of the veil down into the void. If at first this seemed like a good idea, now that you were looking at the red ends of the drapes whirling in the air about eight meters down into rapid gunfire and dirty restaurant tables, it seemed like the shittiest idea you could have come up with in your whole entire life.

Oh, for fucks sake. Just looking down made you nauseous and sick to your stomach. I hate heights.

Rough voices climbed closer behind you, followed by the echoes of gun magazines clicking open and closed only spurring the knots in your belly. One thing was for sure. If you didn't take the jump now and stayed to fight them absolutely weaponless, you were done for. You'd end up with holes in you and you worked too hard on that dress to ruin it with bullets.

Just close your eyes and jump, you breathed out, trying to calm your rapidly racing heart, beating faster than the bullets fired below.

Save your idiots and get back home to Koru, you reasoned with yourself, holding the sword close to you.

Come on, you've got this.

You let go of the pillar, balancing your boots on the ledge. On a deep shaky inhale of breath, you wrapped your hands tight around the veil giving it another thug to test its safety once more just for your peace of mind, and leaned back exhaling all your hopes and dreams into the void below as you fell forwards, going down into the fire.

Your mind emptied of everything else. The clangs of swords, the whizzing of bullets, the angry shouts of battle from above and beyond you. You made your senses entirely numb to the rest of the world. All you focused on was the wind blowing through your hair as you descended down the material at a faster rate than you imagined, holding onto that piece of fabric like it was your lifeline, your own purgatory between heaven and hell.

Peering down to spot Enishi, you caught him looking back at you in the middle of the crossfire in utter shock. You're batshit crazy, you'd hear him say once you got back to the ground - if that even happened - so until then, you focused on staying glued to the veil.

Looking out to reach above him, you plied one hand free from the veil and dropped the sword to him. He caught it, getting right into a swing at a guy who wanted to blow his head off, slicing through him before he got the chance to pull the trigger. Too focused on him, you failed to notice the rapidly approaching wall you were about to face plant into at an unreal speed. Mere seconds before you splattered into it like a bird into a window, your body reacted before your mind could think it through and your fingers loosened around the veil .You let go. With five more meters to go to the ground. And no one to catch you.

You scream pierced through the hall bouncing off the walls like a ghostly shriek, making everyone stop and look up at your falling form, including Enishi and Cho. They shared a look assessing the situation - they were both under way too much pressure as more guards and thugs pooled in from the entrance. The blonde immediately went back to his row of blades trying to keep the incoming ambush outside of the room. Though he was closer to you there was no way for him to get to you without getting torn to pieces first.

Enishi's mind switched to autopilot, butchering everyone that stood in his way with the sole goal of getting to you before it was too late. Sheer adrenaline flew through him like hot fire as he took off towards the poker table using it as a boost to propel him to the other tables, hopping from one to the other at a breakneck speed. Blades piled up in his way. He swerved blows left and right, keeping his eyes on you, rushing to get to the end. As you got closer to the ground, his mind preoccupied only with you and your safety, nothing more, nothing less. He needed to reach you no matter what. He couldn't lose you, not like this.

Not yet. Not now. Not ever, echoed in his head like the beating of a drum inside of his chest, loud and drowning everything else around him.

Before you could splat on the floor, he jumped off the last table dropping his sword and launched himself up gaining momentum from his run. He caught you mid-air, wrapping his arms around you the best he could. The force of your bodies colliding sent you sideways, landing on the lower level of the hall. Your bodies hit the ground, rolling over together like a ball. You squeezed your eyes shut, digging your head into him, hands grappling to hang on to his jacket for dear life. You slammed hard into a booth, falling on your back with him on top of you, still safely tucked in his arms but coming to a stop from the endless tumble.

You were in shock, taking quick breaths without realizing you were no longer in the air falling to your death but on the safety of the expensive burgundy carpet. Enishi called your name multiple times but you couldn't hear him at all, mind stuck in the loop above the floor. He hauled you up and propped you against a pillar trying to get you to focus on him.

"You're okay. You're okay. Hey, hey, look at me," he said softly, caressing the side of your face. Your eyes finally focused on him, terrified out of your mind but at least you were back in the present. "You're okay. You're safe now."

"Fucking-," you drew in a strangled inhale holding onto his shoulders. "Holy shit. Jesus. I-I'm never doing that again. I hate heights. I hate them so much." A bunch of incoherent curses and rambles spilled out of your lips.

"I know. I know," he stroked your arms up and down trying to calm you down. "No more jumping. I promise." You threw your head back to the pillar behind you catching your breath really good for the first time tonight when he spoke again. "Though that was pretty badass," he pointed up at the spot you jumped from and chuckled at which you punched his shoulder.

Once you were past the shock of it, you chuckled as well. "Well, hope you were watching because I'm never doing that shit again even if you pay me."

He laughed shaking his head at how amusement could hit you at the most random times ever. It was pretty welcomed considering the situation. Peering over the ledge to check on Cho, he noticed the blonde was getting outnumbered, not from the exit but from the rest of the hall.

"We have to get out of here now."

"Couldn't agree more."

"Let's get blondie and go," he pulled you up handing you a spare rifle, securing a firm hold around your hand.

You ran together to the door that was now missing the big dark red curtain, only a strip of material left above. You split up there. Enishi ran out through the door missing its curtain to check on the rest of the ground. You ran to the exit too, propping the rifle on top of the staircase leading down in the poker lounge, taking aim at the crowd surrounding Cho. You pulled the trigger relentlessly, drilling holes into every person around him, not waiting until they fell down to get to the next one. You were a Russian roulette they had no control of. Ten bullets was all it took and they all fell to the ground, writhing in pain or completely dead depending on where your bullet hit. The blonde looked at the pile of bodies lowering his swords.

"Took you a while," he teased breathing raggedly, still standing in the middle of the room.

"Was kinda falling from the sky in case you didn't notice," you deadpanned, pointing upwards.

He nodded just as Enishi came back from scouting the perimeter giving you the all clear through haggard breaths. "It's empty. For now. Let's get the fuck out of here."

It's been a few moments, between you running through the main room that was entirely deserted to the carriage and starting your ride back to safety, where everything was quiet. You slumped back in your seat, adrenaline of the fight wearing off a little. It started raining, faint droplets prodding against the small covered windows, making the atmosphere even more humid and heavy than it already was.

Pending chaos hung in the air and your stomach twisted in tight knots again. You tried to figure out what it was that ripped anxiety through you once more. Because it wasn't the mop of hair sitting before you, looking down at the floor, earlier relief on his features replaced by rage like something was going to crack. The wind blew. The carriage stumbled on the road swaying you to the side. Thunder rumbled deep into the darkened sky. And something did crack.

"You just couldn't stay away from it, could you?" boomed Enishi out of nowhere.

He was talking to you, trying to understand why in the world you couldn't just follow one simple thing he asked of you. To let him handle it. You talked to that scum like he wasn't the wolf in sheep's clothing, waiting for you to reveal yourself. You even went and nearly shook hands with death more times than he could count on his fingers - with the Daos, the violinist, jumping from the tallest level and so much more. All because you were simply and utterly the most hardheaded person he's ever come across in his life. He wasn't going to let you off this time.

"Not when it involved them," you shook your head gripping the material of your dress to keep your own wrath under control. "You know that."

"I told you I had it under control-"

"YOU DIDN'T! If anything it was you who made it worse," you spat out, sitting back with your arms folded over your chest, shooting daggers at him.

"I made it worse?" he pointed at himself, letting out a snarky laugh. "I think it was your ego trying to strike a deal with that scum that can't even be called a human being. I didn't take you for an idiot until I saw you entertaining him."

"AN IDIOT?! You were just as stupid thinking he would take the deal without leverage over us. Did it even cross your mind at one point that he never wanted to give us information and he was only trying to get us killed?"

"Don't turn this on me, Miyu."

"Oh, I will turn it however the fuck I want to. Because," you started counting on your fingers again, "number one, you had us go in there with no guarantee or at least some sort of backup plan. Number two, we left empty-handed with absolutely no clue where my parents are. And number three, which should be quite high up on the list actually, is that you're being an absolute asshole right now." At that he rolled his eyes, tongue poking his cheek in anger again as he looked away from you. "Wait, no, rewind that. You have been an absolute dick for the past few days. So, what the fuck is your problem?"

"My problem?! My problem is this blonde scoundrel you like so much getting ahead of himself to act like your fucking bodyguard tonight, nearly getting yourselves killed ten meters above ground," he said, pointing accusingly to the man beside you as if he committed heinous crimes against society. Well, he did, but not recently.

"Me?!" gasped Cho from beside you, obviously appalled at the exchange. "I only came for Miyu, not for you."

"I only came for Miyu," he imitated the blonde like a child, voice going a tad bit higher than normal.

Well that's an Enishi you don't see every day.

"You didn't even bat a fucking eye when she was falling from the sky, did you lizard?"

"I was getting cut up like a salami at the front door in case you didn't notice. Sorry I couldn't jump to catch her like you, Mister 'I'm the Prince of the Frogs and flying is my specialty'. My deepest sincere apologies that I can't repay your virtuousness with some fucking flies."

They continued bickering, each male throwing in more insults and angrily mansplaining their side, adding to the dull ache already forming behind your eyes. You averted your eyes to the small rectangle behind Enishi's head, watching the path covered by the forest you left behind.

Lightning struck, lighting up the path turning muddy in a bright white flash before letting darkness soak it up again. When you went to look away, a small flicker not bigger than a tiny dot in the distance caught your attention.

Thinking it was just your sleep deprived imagination playing tricks on you, you paid it no mind. But that flicker continued to burn, small, still there in the dark, till it grew slightly bigger, a flame now noticeable even as the carriage got further away. You waited for lightning to light up the path again so your worries could settle a little but the next strike didn't come. You sat forward, squinting your eyes at it unable to make out what the fuck it was. Then lightning struck again, this time illuminating what looked awfully like the very thing your gut has been trying to warn you about all day long.

Danger.

Shaken to your core by what you saw possibly a few yards behind about to head your way, your hands shot out to stop the two men bickering by your side, flailing in all sides as your mouth failed to work with you. They stopped, looking at you concerned. A familiar hand gripped your hand stopping your panicked wriggling sliding in your line of sight.

"What's wrong?" asked its owner, worry taking over the previous release of rage in his voice. You suddenly had the strength to speak.

"We need to get off the carriage. NOW!"

The urgency in your voice was enough to alert them. They followed the direction where your eyes were staring pointedly at, but it was too late. Whatever that flame flickering in the darkness is, it was launched right at you at lightning speed, growing bigger and wider the more it advanced towards the carriage, now resembling a giant fireball.

"GET DOWN!"

Before you knew it a loud boom echoed from under you, shaking the mahogany walls with a horrible sound. You felt the carriage leaping upwards and tilting on its side just like the contents in your stomach. It spun in the air becoming a death trap, losing gravity as it barreled off the side of the road. Timber creaked with each spin, sending you left and right into every wooden surface. You reached out to grab a hold of something only to be pushed harshly into the backrest, hitting the wooden wall with the back of your head so hard that black and white swam in your vision.

You blanked out a few times, coming to only to feel it still spinning out of control to god knows where. The only thing you could focus on was the smell of smoke that started enveloping the whole carcass with no ventilation to go out only inside your lungs. Bile rose in your throat playing an intense game with your guts that you couldn't stomach.

The force of it landing on the ground made a loud crack come from your right, followed by multiple louder ones as the body of the carriage rolled and rolled, slowly caving in on itself. You thought the spinning would never stop. That you would roll endlessly. Until it did, coming to an abrupt halt against what you assumed to be a huge tree bark. The body of the carriage hit it so hard that it split it into pieces, the force of the blow sending you far into the grass, together with a piece of broken wood you landed head first into and blacked out.

Pain was the only thing you could process. It hurt everywhere. Gravity held you down to the ground captive in a steel grip. Your sense of feeling was slowly returned to you, little by little in a haze, before it hit you like a truck.

The first thing you tasted was the blood on your lips, probably bitten in the mid-flight to hell. They felt numb, not responding to your intention to make them move open from being clamped shut. The dragging breaths you struggled to take in through your nose were just as rejected by your chest. Broken ribs, you figured. The question was how many of them were usable. A big part of your insides were messed up, pulse shuddering everywhere but in your chest. It took a while to feel anything else. You gained some feeling below your shoulders and tried moving your hand, successfully lifting your forearm. When you tried more, electricity shot up your nerves and your shoulder protested in pain. Same with your feet, although one ankle moved enough when you twisted it around. The other laid completely numb.

Opening your eyes, you tried focusing on something that didn't hurt. The putter of small droplets on your forehead turned into bigger arrows of water stabbing your face. The small rain turned into a monsoon. Tall trees lining into the clouded skyline gave you no comfort. You were in the middle of nowhere. No one lived here. No one even crossed these roads. The smell of fire hit you from your right, stomach churning at what you would find if you turned your head.

Taking an excruciating deep breath in, you willed the sore muscles in your neck to work with you and let you see what laid there. Once your eyes rolled to the side, your head followed and your heart ached at the sight. Among debris from what used to be a beautiful dark oak carriage, encrusted in golden crest motives, there were only scattered pieces of wood burning to a crisp, fire not extinguished at all by the rain but seemingly burning hotter, sputtering but deadly the more gusts of wind enraged it.

Looming further you spotted the sleeves of an olive suit you worked on for endless hours, ripped to shreds all the way to a pair of biceps, deeply scratched by twigs and splinters. Cho. His chest raised slowly but his eyes were closed, covered by his blonde hair that turned dirty from the mud he rolled through. He's okay, you sighed in relief. You weren't sure how okay since he appeared to be passed out, but at least he was breathing.

Then your breath got caught in your throat.

Enishi. Where is he?

You whirled your head around unable to pin his location, frustrated that you couldn't move the rest of your body and get up to look for him. You pulled on your limbs, stretching every wound into agonising pain as fiery tingles stabbed at your extremities to will you to stay put. But you couldn't stay put. You had to move before your body locked up completely. You had to look for him. He had to be around here. He had to be okay.

You moaned in pain rolling to your left on your dislocated shoulder. Looking into the darkened forest, you searched all pieces of burning wood and golden marble until something that looked like hair and a body appeared to the far reach of the forest opening. A gray dot that was now turning dark, lying in the grass with his head turned to the side that wasn't facing you. His suit was ripped to shreds even more, pierced by the scorched bushes behind him so hard that it reached his skin deeply. Parts of the fabric remained intact on the small twigs, floating in the wind. All the shreds had crimson blood leaking out, staining the beautiful indigo a lot of shades darker.

His chest wasn't moving. He wasn't moving. He wasn't conscious. The rain continued falling even harder making it harder to make out anything from your spot. You had to go to him. You needed to see his face.

Reaching out the hand that somewhat worked, you grabbed a flock of grass that seemed sturdier and pulled yourself in his direction. It hurt so much, ripping your wounds open wider. But you continued. Every pull scraped your knees, twisting your bad ankle even more, grunting with every rock and twig scratching against your broken ribs. Just a little more, you pleaded with your body, feeling the tingles slowly turn to numbness the more you put pressure on them. Just let me reach him, you begged to any god listening to give you some energy. Your nails dug into the mud, making use of anything you could find around you. A wooden plank, a larger stick, grass.

Three more weeds climbed in unbearable pain and you ended up next to him, gripping his arm to pull yourself up for the last time. Your forehead fell into the crack of his bruised elbow, letting out a relieved groan. I got to him.

Your eyes lifted to find him as still as a few moments ago when you found him, head turned to the other side. Stretching your right arm in pain, you grabbed a hold of his face to turn it to you. His beautiful lips were cracked, blood stagnant around his lower one, dripping with the beads of rain falling down.

His cheeks were both cut, one rougher than the other and a gash sat near his left temple. His eyes remained closed. Fear stirred inside of you and you started shaking him with what little strength you had left. The bell in his ear rattled noisily over the rain and your heart beating out of control in panic.

"Enishi," you croaked out, unstable and tired. "Open your eyes. Please," you cried, head falling onto his chest.

You listened for a sound in the blaring rain, being met with a small thud of a heartbeat. His chest was moving but way too slow for your liking.

Cradling his less damaged cheek in your hand, you rubbed it trying to get him to wake up. Come back to me, you screamed inside, leaning your head back on his chest. "You said you wouldn't leave me. Please don't break your promise," you laid a kiss on top of his chest, letting yourself cry. "I won't break mine."

A groan reverberating under you made your eyes snap to his. His eyebrows joined together in pain as he slowly came to and worked to open his eyes. Come on, open them, you encouraged, relief washing over you. You saw the small, barely there flutter of his eyelids before you were pulled away from him.

A rough hand wrapped around your broken ankle, dragging you away. You thrashed in their hold as they pulled you up, kicking back and forth, trying to reach back for Enishi only to be yanked harder. Your world turned upside down as they hoisted you up on their back, turning to walk away from the clearing back on the main road. Punching and punching until your hands cramped, you tried to get them to let you down. But they just wouldn't budge. Not even an inch.

Something hard connected with your head, turning the earlier throb from the crash drilling into every part of your head. Spots appeared even faster in your vision, threatening to take you away for good this time. The last thing you saw before you gave in were his dark eyes opening wide.

You wanted to scream. To let him know he wasn't alone. That you didn't leave. But it was too late.

Darkness took you before you managed to open your mouth.

Flashes.

Images flashed in black and white, familiar with the darkness of the night. Even in colours, too bright to be the morning sun or the brightness of daylight.

More flashes.

You blinked through the haze weighing your eyelids. A pair of dirty boots came into view, upside down walking on a concrete path. Your ears perked up catching some muffled voices. Then your eyes closed again.

The next time they opened, you were upright, propped on a cold stone wall in a pitch black corner. It allowed you to see the rest of the room. Dark light, rusty steel bars and cold floors under your feet, you figured you could only be in one place - a holding cell. Somewhere deep underground from how freezing cold and humid it was.

A set of keys jingled loudly against the bars, hurting your sensitive ears. That horrifying boom still echoed inside your head, as if it was still happening over and over again, spinning into the nothingness of the forest. Someone walked inside, steps composed and lanky, looking for trouble. Dirty dress shoes stopped in front of you. Your vision was heavily damaged from the constant hits your head took all night but you willed to work at least enough to identify the person. Your lack of a reaction made them crouch down before you, forcefully tilting your chin to them. Once your eyes came into focus, heavy but clear, you were ready to set all hell loose.

"You."

The sneering snake looked you in the eye with sheer delight just like the spawn of satan he was. The smirk on his face was enough to make your hands shoot out to his neck only to pull against the metal shackles restraining you.

"Pleasure to see you again, kiddo."

Thank you for reading :)

[fionaswifeyy]

for the rafe and Sofia request i don’t mind what you come up with, I’m sure it will be amazing!! Also the instastories of them was so cuteee!! love love love it!!!🥹🥹

i love that u guys love this 😭😭

HERE IT IS!!!! MY FIRST BORN OF 'EM!!!

cautions: adult language, mention of human fluids and body parts, Sofia a little drunk

𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐

Rafe entered the house he shares with Sofia, closing the door behind him.

Listen to music that comes from the kitchen, Mexican music, Selena y los Dinos, she was wearing a rafe t-shirt while preparing dinner, Sofia's favorite food, pasta with hot chili cream.

Rafe was amazed by the sight he had of her dancing, singing and having fun while using a microphone spoon. He came up to where she was from behind, making sure she heard his determined steps and joined her unruly dance, taking her by the hips and bringing his mouth close to her ear.

"hey babe" he said in a low, husky voice, knowing it drives her crazy. She leaned her head back into the crook of his neck, loving the contact of his strong hands with the bucking of his hips.

"hi honeyyyy" did she sound a little... drunk?

"Are you drunk, love?" He looked at the counter and saw the bottle of sweet white wine half full and his glass almost empty. "juuust a little biit" she said in a joking and drunken voice.

"what's the occasion?" Rafe knew that Sofia didn't drink just because, it had to be a very good situation or a very bad situation to put his girl into drinking unless it was a special occasion.

"I just had the best day of my life!" She told him, turning around and putting her arms on his shoulders, pulling him closer to her, bumping noses, they shared a kiss and then she gave him the cutest drunk smile ever.

"yea? tell me 'bout that, babe" he told her grabbing her waist, sofia put her mouth close to rafe's and said "dance with me", rafe grabbed her waist tighter and they danced to sofia's rhythm, they concluded the song with a kiss slow and sensual "I love dancing with you, bonita" he told her, demonstrating his skills in basic Spanish that she taught him with great effort "hey, you learned very quickly!" Sofia smiled and kissed his cheek lovingly. She moved away from him to check on the pasta, turning it off to strain it and serve it with the sauce. "lovey, could you set the table, please?" Sofia asked "yes babe."

While Rafe was putting the dishes he asked "You didn't tell me what made you so excited" he turned to look at her smiling "my boss promoted me" Sofia had the biggest smile ever on her cheek, and Rafe couldn't be happier for her, knowing all the effort she put into it. She does day by day at the tourist company she loves "babe that's awesome!" Rafe screamed, he lifted her in the air and spun her around, when he put her down he gave her a good kiss, becoming passionate, Rafe supported Sofia on the counter chairs, lifting her up and putting her on the counter, he moved his hands to her waist and then lowered her down. a little more, to her ass and pushing with his hands towards him, now making his erection noticeable against her panties.

"why don't we take this upstairs?" He said and in fact it was a rhetorical question, he was already on his way to the room, Sofia grumbled a little, separating herself from Rafe's kiss to complain "but my pasta with cream is good, honey" "oh yeah I know, but I want to try another cream right now."

A long night awaited her

[aoitakumi8148]

...I’d make you look, I’d make you lie, I’d take the coldness from your eyes...

𝐵𝓊𝓉 𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝒯𝑜𝓁𝒹 𝑀𝑒: ‘𝓘𝓯 𝓨𝓸𝓾 𝓛𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝓜𝓮, 𝓛𝓮𝓽 𝓘𝓽 𝓓𝓲𝓮’.

[v.1-v.6] Some gaps left to fill ✏ The answers would not have any weight on the LO𝓟 content.

The Law 𝟘. I thought I'd somehow learn something that'd drastically change the way I feel about... quite the oposite. More questions now to Venigni, Sofia and Manus, rather than to...

What Is The Principle Of ‘Communication Through Ergo Wave Lengths’?

What Is The ‘Ergo Amplification’ Effect?

Is Romeo's ‘Deal With The Devil’ About Becoming A Puppet?

What Is The Interval Between The ‘Deal’ & The ‘Experiment’?

Does The Creator Still Work With The Organization? 𝒫.𝒮. It Is Coherent On A Short-Term Basis, ‘Former Colleagues’ [+ Before The KD]. Systematically? Doubtful. Why Would He? If Not Only As A ‘Compulsory Measure’. ✒ The Creator And Manus' Goals/Views Are Fundamentally Conflicting. ✒ & His Sceptical Attitude is Plausible, Persuasive. ✒ Not To Mention The Leader Of [The Alchemists] Almost ‘Praise[s]’ The PD. 𝒫.𝒮. Which Exactly Causes Carlo's Death.

Rhetorical Question. Why Admonish 𝓟? ‘Read’ Geppetto's Mind? Think You Know? Leave It Be.

A plan that is complicated to proceed, a combination of provoked events and ‹fortunate› circumstances, generating one genius technician's intention growing stronger each day... or all at once. It matters not.

Despite everything he observes, discovers, hears from others, the boy is eager to be with Geppetto, to reconcile x make him happy. Even at the cost of his life, even if that happiness will not be theirs. 𝓟's Creator, his Trigger, his Father gave him the reason to. The reason to feel like a real human. Because of the man's craft, he regrettably missed the time for Carlo in the past, but it's 𝓟's present that does define him… Our crippling, gentle, disorienting, astonishing present.

LO𝓟 is a great writer's philosophically fond tale taken by great minds & implemented in the form of melodius x glamorous ideality, NOT destined to burn the ‹core› of this tale to dust. Something that intense cannot be an illusion.

...With the full force of a dying star ~ I will find you, If you’re near or far, wherever you are...

[theendwrites]

I don't really know how to start this, but heya! I'm an artist that is currently obsessed with HL, and has WAY TOO MANY characters in it! I'm mostly on twitter, but I had a tumblr some years ago and decided it was time to come back... especially if I could get to see more content on this game especially Garreth because I have a need and there is so little in comparison to other characters! Character info below!!

I guess I should start by presenting my characters, so here they are:

(MC) Selene Nichols: Ravenclaw. Introverted, Curious, Adventurous and Caring. Loves puzzles and exploring. They teached her how to be a "proper lady" and sometimes has a hard time breaking out of that. (Estella's sister, I pair her with Ominis)

Estella Nichols: Slytherin. Extroverted, Charismatic and Bold. Beater on the Slytherin quiddich team. She has a bit lost for most of her time in hogwarts (not literally) but she little by little finds her voice. (Selene's sister, I pair her with Sebastian or Imelda)

Sofia Krowe: Ravenclaw. Introverted, Protective, Stern and Warm. She is the ravenclaw Prefect/head Girl of her year. She is a seer and uses her visions to catch troublemakers when they are in danger or putting others in danger. You'll find her mostly on the library. She seems cold and misterious, but once you get to know her she is more like a mom friend that you can count on. (I pair her with Garreth)

Silas Lacklan: Hufflepuff. Amvivert, Kind, Loyal and Calm. He loves rescuing and taking care of beasts especially dragons. He considers both his beast and human friends important and takes really good care of them. He will always bring extra snacks to give. He plays as a Chaser.

Sun Owens: Ravenclaw. Extrovert. Logical, Organized, Trustworthy, Optimistic and Honest. He is the other prefect/Head Boy from their year in Ravenclaw. He is less forgiving than Sofia when it comes to that, even if he doesn't look like that, but does not go overboard. Has a fascination for troublemakers. He lives alone with his father, and they are poor, his goal is to have the best grades so he can have a cushy job and just relax without having to worry.

(MC) Caden Sawyer: Gryffindor. Extroverted, Kind, Confident, Sensitive and Charming. He loves exploring and the outdoors. He always ends up helping people. He is very aware of people being afraid of him, so he tries his best to make people comfortable around him, even if that means to leave. Comes from a family of witchunters, but escaped and was adopted by the Hills. (Cyrus and Killa's adoptive brother)

Cyrus Hill: (+2 years than MCs) Hufflepuff. Nervous, Timid and mature. He is the Hufflepuff HeadBoy, but doesn't believe he deserves it. He is self-concious (appearance), mainly because of his scars. Has flashbacks and axiety problems from being kidnapped and tortured, so his personality has taken a bit of a toll, but he always tries his best to make the rest feel better, especially his family (Caden & Killa)

Killa Hill: (-4 years than MCs) Slytherin. Extrovert, Energetic, Loud, Friendly and Ceerfull. She admires his brothers very much, and wants to become strong to protect them. She is a bit of an airhead, and her determination has no bounds. She will get what she wants. She is adorable.

Passer Lestrange: Slytherin. Introvert, Obnoxious, Pridefull, Spoiled, Clever. He is from the Lestrange family, and has been taught that he is better than others (blood purity shennaningans) but then Caden arrives and kind of, withough knowing breaks all of that down slowly. But untill the end of his 6th or during his 7th year... yeah no, he is insufferable. He likes Cheese.

Relationships between them!! I have two parallel worlds with a different story and characters each. They do not cross over (except AUs and interacting with other MCs... you know.) So many of my characters do not exist in the same place! I made a badly written infographic to provide help😊 If you read all of that, wow, thank you! I really appreciate it!! If you have any question do not hesitate to ask! See ya next time!!

[fateinthestars]

What is your opinion on the Zodiac God's parents ( the ones that we know of)?

Warning, spoilers:

Ichthys: Ichthyo and Irina care deeply just like Ikky himself does and there's something rather ironic about their illness being caused by them healing Ichthys when their powers are only meant to cure illnesses, and then their illness is cured by Ichthys forcing his healing power to cure them, causing his mortality. It was them saving him that cursed them to be ill, and him curing them that cursed him to be mortal. I'm so glad in Ichthys path that they reconnect because it feels like they still cared deeply about each other but that care was causing a troubling atmosphere because his parents were so guilty about what had happened, whereas I wouldn't be surprised if Ichthys thought it was more they were upset that he'd thrown his immortality away in order to save them. But even before they reconnect properly and despite Ichthys distancing himself because he didn't like the atmosphere they still came to check on him in his sequel when he was ill. They seem to be a loving family but could probably do with talking to each other more.

Tauxolouve's Birth Parents: We don't have that much information about Kronos and Nadi but we do know they were willing to reveal their sin to the King in order to plead for their baby to be taken in by the heavens. Kronos did whatever he could to also protect Nadi but ultimately the Dark King was too much for both of them. The fact that Tauxolouve's adoptive parents told him about them but under the guise of they had been best friends of the family probably shows how well regarded they were by them at least.

Tauxolouve's Adoptive Parents: Nasir and Sofia seem extremely supportive and probably a source of great strength for Lou. Nasir comes across very kind in general too, berating his co-workers at the palace for treating the MC with such disdain even though he hadn't even met her yet. I mean they know Tauxolouve's whole story so they probably have a better view of humans anyway but he didn't have to do that, especially somewhere so public. In Lou's sequel when he is hesitant to tell them he's thinking of falling from grace they not even realise that is what he is thinking of doing but actively support whatever decision he comes to. It seems and utterly wonderful family and I am sure Lou is very happy to call them his parents.

Krioff: Ugh... where to start with this? Considering Krioff accidentally burnt away his Sister's divine powers it is understandable that there would be some animosity here, but Aiess really does himself no favours with his actions. Tricking MC like that and nearly turning her into a Goddess without either of their consent and giving her the massive shock of going home and finding no one could remember her... after she saved Krioff's Mother, his Father was at least repentant enough to give them a way to reverse what he had done. Krioff clearly cares about his Mother and she at least seems accepting of MC from the start. I don't feel like Krioff or MC would be that comfortable visiting the family home often after what happened in his Sequel, but I think they might on occasion - and they definitely would if Melunia asked them to.

Dui: Tyrande and Ledom seem devoted to each other, especially considering the fondness Dui recalls them talking about the fountain of love ceremony. Considering because of what happened Dui was estranged from them, it does seem that they are very amicable again already in his promise of infinity story. His Mother's interest in baking cakes seems to have rubbed off on him too. They don't seem to have any issues with MC either. There's not that much information here but considering Dui's path it's probably telling that once that is resolved and he's no longer under the Department of Punishment's charge he starts going back home again more frequently. They might not come across as supportive as Tauxolouve's adoptive parents, but they also seem to genuinely care. They're probably nearest to Ichthys' parents when compared to the others.

Teorus: Do I have to talk about Thanassis? He can fuck right off. If this is how he tests Teo to make sure the other is ready to take over his position it's probably just as well he was never really around for the other. I don't want to know what Teo's personality would be like with more influence from his so called father. Yes he was the one who stabilised MC's latent Goddess of Fate powers that were reawakening by gifting her his stars when he went to start anew on Earth meaning that she could remain human, but... does the stuff in this sequel really make up for the way Teo felt throughout his childhood?

[joeyleesblog]

Realities that intersect

In a different reality, Spider loves Pandora but is fed up with feeling like he doesn't belong with her. Tired of carrying your father's sins. Tired out. When he turns eighteen and is told he might be sent back to Earth, he doesn't argue or fight it, he simply says goodbye to everyone and everything and leaves.

Adaptation is difficult at first, but he gets there and gets a job as a scientist. Sometimes he misses Pandora, the Sullys and the people of Hell's Gate, but he moves on with his new life on Earth. Maybe not happy, but satisfied at the very least.

Time passes, he is now an adult and renowned scientist and has been chosen for a new project that saves the human race from an increasingly imminent extinction, trying to open fractures in time to an ancient time where the world is not dying or even realities parallels. (who has seen Terra Nova know what it is, if not, watch this series, it's great.) It is in this project that Tarah Lopes enters, a renowned scientist, with an incredible sense of humor and beautiful as the night sky of Pandora (Sofia Wylie, ready). It doesn't take long for them to fall in love and establish a relationship for life.

They don't think about having children, not with the extreme conditions on Earth and having to dedicate themselves to the project, but it's a dream that the two hope to realize one day. But oh, life often laughs when we make plans. Paz Bird Socorro Lopes is born on Spider and Tarah's eight year anniversary. She's a surprise that they both worry madly about how they're going to raise her, but she's certainly not unwanted in the slightest. Bird is the joy and pride of her parents. She is curious and observant, smart like them, as well as cute and pretty.

Time passes, the project is giving good results. They manage to open the fracture in time to an ancient Earth time, but not only that, they manage to open portals to other realities. But the trip is not possible yet, they are still doing tests.

The plot starts here. Bird is allowed into the lab because her grandmother has status and power for her little granddaughter to visit her (😄). She stays in an area where she is free to play and explore, usually with a babysitter when her parents are working on the project. Bird, however, runs away to the project site because he wanted to see what it was like. And well, she accidentally ended up falling through the portal, much to everyone's terror.

Where does she travel? For Pandora, but not the Pandora of this reality or the Pandora we know from the movie, but another Pandora. Well, the story follows two plots: Tarah and Spider trying to bring Bird back and Bird being taken care of by Spider and the others from that reality.

...

Post 2

Post 3

[murderbirds]

It is really baffling to me that DC made one of the potentially most dangerous enemy imaginable in the form of the court of owls and they just don't know what to do with it. The concept of the elite group of a city as dangerous as Gotham City forcing Gotham to remain what it is and always has been for the sake of their own never ending greed and cheap work makes so much sense and works so well as a parallel to Bruce who is all about how to use his fortune to try and 'fix' the city, but instead people will dumb it down to just 'oh, we are so scary, we have this maze, you see.' The court of owls shouldn't be just another enemy. They should be the very essence of what Batman fights against because their reach is so great that every single one of the rogues and batman's villains were created by them, directly and indirectly. They are the ones who refuse to allow Gotham to change. You can't have all of this potential and just throw it as "villain of the week!" C'mon!

Gotham almost did it well. In season 2, we are introduced to the Court as this entity that controls all of Gotham, from Wayne Enterprises to Arkham. At this point, Strange is our main antagonist in the season, and even he is terrified of them. Season 2 of Gotham is the Court at its best. You witness how little they care about human lives and just how powerful they are, but of course, in comes season 3 and ruins everything.

Not only does the court of owls become a bunch of idiots in season 3, but they also make no sense. I understand that the big reveal is that 'oh, they are actually just being controlled by the league of shadows', which, mind you, makes no sense. The court of owls is the definition of everything that Ra's hates about humanity, but pop off, I guess. And it is funny because Ra's is probably the most effective antagonist in this show besides maybe Sofia and Strange. Ra's is an actual threat, he feels imposing, he feels powerful and it is gratifying to see him go down. He is a man led by his desire to die and to create a better world though Bruce and I could go on a whole tangent about how powerful of a narrative this can be, but I won't. This is about the Court. Not Ra's. The Court is a representation of greed from those on top and how their actions perpetuate this cycle of hate and destruction. The court is about capitalism. The league of shadows is about nihilism and trying to force the next generation to do what you wish you had. They don't work together. They are opposite extremes.

Now, let's get back on track. In season 3, the court decides that they want to 'start over' by killing off most of Gotham's population through the Tetch virus, but they never really explained why besides 'oh everything has gone wrong so we will now start over' and I just want to understand what exactly is it that has gone wrong. At this point, the court is still almost unanimously the one on top. The one who was actually the biggest threat to them, Galavan, is dead. Bruce is still a kid, so even if you do need to do something about him eventually, wouldn't it be easier and more practical to just get rid of him? Wayne manor has basically no defenses. One almost immortal guy nearly killed Bruce, Alfred and Jim, and you have an entire army of those available. Oswald isn't a threat either, at this point, he is more interested in his own greed than anything else. Hell, if they had offered him to join them, chances were, he would have accepted it. Would he be a problem in the future? Possibly, but if you are willing to try to get Jim "golden boy" joy your organization, the guy who wins a medal for not following rules, I think letting Oswald in is fine as long as you make him think he is on top. That leads us to the only remaining threat, Jim. James Gordon, at this point, isn't a part of the police anymore. He is just a private investigator. He has little to no power. Kill him, arrest him, threaten to destroy everything he loves if he doesn't stop. It doesn't matter, but don't invite him to join you. He has no power at this point, why do you even want him? Because he sorta promised Bruce to help save his parents? What? It just makes no sense that they would want Jim in their organization, who doesn't even have a place of his own at this point in the story, but not Oswald or Barbara or Butch or any actual major player in the city. And the most mind boggling thing of all is the fact that the court would go out of their way to subdue both the Riddler and the Penguin and throw them both into cages and do nothing about it. Why? What was the point of that? Weren't you going to destroy the city anyway? Why not just place them in the blast of a bomb or get rid of them? Or better yet, just kill them and get rid of their bodies! Why do you want them alive?! You didn't give two shits about Edward in season 2, why are you keeping him locked up now?! If you want something from them, why don't you talk to them?! What are you trying to accomplish?!

In any case, what I'm trying to say is, the Court of Owls makes no sense in season 3 and is just there to do what the plot requires them to do, and that is true for most other Batman media I have seen with them. They are there just to fill a role instead of being an actual threat, and this goes all the way back to their introduction, when, once again, they are treated as just a villain of the week with no further development.