#except perhaps my sanity and happiness

[etfrin]

The Reward — Coriolanus Snow ♡

⇢☾Warning: NSFW | pinv sex, mirror sex-ish if you squint, dub con if you squint, overstimulation if you squint, face riding, creampie, cunnilingus, unprotected sex (wrap it dumbfucks), snow is his own warming, dom sub undertones, reader has ear piercings, degradation, hints of a toxic relationship, impact play (spanks your ass a few times), dumbfication if you squint, low-key soft! Snow in the beginning | lmk if I forgot anything!

⇢☾Pairing: young president Coriolanus Snow! x fem! Reader

⇢☾Summary: Coriolanus Snow gives you a reward by being gentle af and then by being a mean animal (kinda) dnsjsk🤭

⇢☾A/N: it's 3:00 am and i need to sleep, i thought about Snow taking off my heels after a gala and this was born <3

< arranged marriage m.list > < tag list > < masterlist >

Coriolanus Snow was a gentleman but he wasn't gentle. Perhaps this was an alternative universe, a fever dream but you couldn't believe what was happening right now in front of your eyes. Your pupils were in shock, your palms were sweating as you continued to take in the sight.

The sight of Snow being on his knees as he unclasps the belts of your uncomfortable heels. You swallow, “Coryo, you don't have to” but his head tilts up and his eyes are still his. Blue, cold, empty, and never ending like the ocean. A calmness washed over you, the look in his eyes proof enough that this was one of his many tricks to keep you satisfied and happy and you have to indulge him in it.

So you let him gently take off your shoes and set them aside. You await his further actions and let out a soft, small moan as his lips pressed to one of your knees. His mouth keeps pressing wet kisses up to your upper thigh, leaving behind a trail of his saliva on your skin.

This was a reward. Coriolanus was so proud of his pretty and smart wife today. You behaved accordingly in the gala tonight, letting him take the credit for your ideas. You understood your duties and that's why this is one of the few times Coryo will ever kneel for or be this gentle. It's a thank you he can't voice so he does it by his actions.

His lips find themselves kissing inside your inner thigh now, gently nipping the skin as you let out needy mewls. He could see the wet spot forming in your panties and felt the usual pride in his mind bloom. Only he could have you wet so easily and damn, if that didn't skyrocket his ego.

He kissed the wet spot, the juices now glistening onto his pink lips and he pulled back. You whimper as he does, and he wants to coo at you and tease you for being a greedy pet. But he doesn't, it's a reward after all.

He stood up and pressed a kiss to your forehead before his hand grabbed the box of make-up wipes. You still hadn't said a word, letting him do his thing. He gently wiped the makeup off your face, clearing you of the chemicals he hated but you had to apply them to stay in fashion.

His fingers then gently take off the earrings you had worn, and then one by one all the rings you had except the wedding ring of course. His touch had lingered during all of those actions, making your body heat up and your panties soaked. Soft sighs escape you as he continues to adore you in such a gentle manner. As if you're made of the most precious diamond but easily breakable without care.

That's what he might have thought of you. So damn important to his sanity but any action of yours can damn him to hell. A risk, a liability to everything he has. But in his mind, you're worth it all and he has done every single scenario where things can go wrong, so many sleepless nights dedicated to these thoughts.

Snow lands on top.

Nothing you can do can mess him up, nothing. He makes sure of it with his every living breath. It's the reason he can spoil you like this, be a deserving man to his wife otherwise Coriolanus Snow is a monster (and you know that and accept him anyway).

He unzips your dress, his lips now pressing a heated kiss to your nape as his fingertips trace your bare skin. His touch was cold as ice, the heat of your body cooling down to his touch. It gave you relief momentarily but it was clear that you wanted more. The whimper that left your mind as he unclasped your bra was enough proof of that.

With your breasts set free from their confines, Corio’s hands begin to knead your soft tits. His eyes look into the mirror as he watches himself message your soft breasts, his fingers pinching your nipples making the sensitive pebbles hard. He rolls the buds, playing with them until you moan, your body flushing with lust in your veins. You begin to rub your thighs, getting desperate for any sort of friction but you force yourself to stop as he tsks near your ear.

“Don't, doll,” he whispered as one of his hands began the journey of going down on your body, the heat of his palm onto your tummy and then so close to your clothed pussy. “Spread,” he commands and you follow without embarrassment or hesitation.

Your soaked panties come into your view through the mirror and you want to look away from the shyness you still had but didn't. Instead, a whine escapes your lips that makes Coriolanus chuckle. “Such a needy pet. I will take care of you, darling. No need to worry.”

You moan as he refers to you as darling for the first time. Your cunt clenching desperately around nothing as your mind gets dizzy. There was something about how he had said it. Soft and warm, his voice dipping a bit lower as he pronounced the letters and it was tinged with a feeling he wouldn't associate himself with.

Love.

You whimper, “Please” and he hushes you as his fingers snap the band of your panties before he dips a single finger onto your wet folds. He smirks, his face looking into the mirror to gaze into your glazed eyes. “Pathetic,” he muttered and you didn't bother to take offense, his words turning you on as much as his finger circling on your clit was.

A broken moan escapes as his fingers decide to pinch the sensitive nub, and he coats his fingers with your juices. A string of sticky white cream on his digits as he takes his hand out of your panties and places his covered fingers inside the wet carven of his mouth. He expertly sucks clean of his fingers, popping them out of his mouth with an obscene sound.

He smirks to himself as he relishes the taste of you. His. Just his you were. He leaves you there, alone on the chair as he walks to the bed. He wasn't wearing anything except for his pants. His suit and shirt were taken off earlier.

You waited for his further command as he got himself comfortable on the bed. “Come here,” he said and you listen. You take off your wet panties and let them stay ruined on the floor as you practically crawl to Coryo. You straddle him and wait some more.

He doesn't say anything, his face blank but his sky-blue eyes heated. His hands were on your hips, his fingers digging into the flesh there, making sure to grip you tight enough to mark you.

His tongue comes out to wet his rather dried lips. Your breath hitches as you see it and the sight of you being so affected by such a simple action made him feel like a. . . Lord.

He doesn't say anything, but did he need to? You knew him all too well, so you don't question yourself as you begin to move. The new position had you gripping the headboard while his hands shamelessly groped your ass, even occasionally giving small sharp slaps onto the flesh, making it red. It was simply another way of marking you.

Meanwhile, your eyes were closed, your mind forgetting about the existence of reality as his hot breath hit your glistening folds and made you quiver. “Go ahead,” he permits you.

Not even a second later, you begin to ride his face. He groans as his lips meet with your cunt. His tongue begins with broad, messy strokes of your pussy, gathering as much as your juices possible. All the while your eyes roll back and you moan. A sharp slap on the flesh of your ass has you grinding yourself onto his face. His nose nudged your sensitive, swollen clit perfectly as his tongue continued to swirl and flick around your cunt with calculated broad strokes that made you whine his name.

Soon his mouth finds your clit and begins to relentlessly suck your bundle of nerves. You cry out, pleading that this is too much and you can't- can't take it! But your begging was unheard and your pleas turned into louder moans, whimpers for pleas, and more. His sucking gets harsher and the overstimulation makes your mind reel. The warmth that was gathering in your lower body begins to spread all over, turning your bones to jelly and your mind to nothing as you cum onto his face. The rolls of your hips slowly as he continues to lap at all the cream released and your pussy keeps on spasming.

Your mind wanted more so you decided to take more. You had understood this was a reward for being good. So you can be a bit bad for now. So despite his grunt of displeasure as you get off his face, you quickly find yourself getting rid of his remaining clothes.

His cock was hard, the red tip angry and gleaming with pre-cum that coated most of his length. The sight had you salivating. Coryo knew you were nothing more than a cockdrunk slut and he called you that, you feel yourself glow from his words, not finding the word even a little bit degrading.

“I love you,” you mumbled as you lowered yourself onto his cock with a wanton moan echoing through the room. He groans, “Fuck yourself good, pet. You're in charge of your pleasure tonight. Go ahead, dove.”

“Yes, Coryo,” you whine as you feel yourself full of his cock. You felt yourself squeezing his thick length, a gasp escaping you as you tried to get used to his cock without being prepped. A groan could be heard as he felt his dick getting squeezed by your wet, tight cunt.

He wants to fuck into you and he almost does. But Coriolanus Snow was a gentleman and a gentleman kept his word. Especially when he can see his wife looking so fucking pretty being fucked out from his cock merely twitching inside her walls.

“Begin,” he demands, his voice haughty and filled with lust but you weren't ready. However, you couldn't bring yourself to care. You begin to rock your hips, slowly at first, you let yourself savor the action of his cock grinding against every hidden pleasure spot inside of your cunt. You moan as your pussy takes his cock deeper until his tip is pressed right against your g-spot making you see stars. You begin to grind back and forth so he keeps hitting that spot, you begin to sweat, your thighs clenching, and you couldn't keep focus as pleasure feels your every vein and his cock making you dumb. Simple actions seemed impossible to you and you wanted to beg him to take over, to make you cum again and again until you were broken.

He was unaware of your turmoil, his eyes onto the sight where his cock meets with your cunt, the combined fluid of his pre-cum and your slick dripping down onto his skin. The sight was filthy and he loved it. He clenched his jaw, trying so hard to be a patient gentleman to his wife.

He treated this like a test against himself because he knew what you did to his self-control. You aren't going to win this, he's not going to let go. He will not fuck into you like an animal, he refused to.

But was it losing when you were out of it like this? As if you were truly nothing but a dumb slut who just needs to cum. He decided that this wasn't a loss, but a win. He was doing you a favor when his hips began to snap upwards, his cock thrusting inside of you faster than the pace you had set. It was a pity that he felt so that's why he went back to his words. He was in control of your pleasure and he always will be. Self-control had nothing to do with it, he told himself.

You scream out in pleasure as several spanks are delivered onto your ass, turning the flesh red. It was clear that you liked the sting because of how tightly your pussy suffocated his dick after each slap. ‘Fucking whore of a wife’, he thought. He doesn't voice his thoughts but merely grins at the sight of tears filling your eyes. His dick twitched, an indication of being close.

However, he had to make you cum on his cock first. His hips begin to rut in faster into you, his hands holding you down as he thrusts in faster and harder. His dick kissing all of your hidden spots you didn't even know existed, his cock was perfect.

All you could do was take and take the reward he was giving you. Tears of satisfaction fell down your cheeks and it nourished his pride. You begin to ramble as you get closer to the edge. You ramble about how perfect he is, how much you love him, and fuck you can't think- you can't think. He is perfect, perfect, perfect.

Each of your praises makes him fuck you harder, deeper, a thrust so deep that his cockhead kissed your cervix making you gasp from a hint of pain and a hundredfold of pleasure. You begin to cum, and he shallowly thrusts into your cunt as you ride out your high. Your pussy spasms continuously around his cock as you cry out from being overwhelmed.

“That's a good girl,” he coos at you, “that's my girl.” You whine, your mind unable to process his words. You couldn't even sit up anymore, your body falling onto his. He wraps his arms around you, caging you to him. “My perfect wife,” he whispered as he continues to fuck into you despite your protests of being too much.

He doesn't listen to your pleas, his reward for you ultimately was his cum. Now he can't stop until he finds release himself, otherwise, how would you get your gift, right?

So he continues and it doesn't take more than a few minutes to fuck his thick, hot load into your womb. You whimper as his cock slips out and sighs in relief. You were in his arms and will be so for the rest of the night.

Coriolanus Snow wondered briefly if you liked your reward if not, well you have full access to his credit cards.

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[beautifulbows924]

Common Ground

Act One!Astarion x Gender Neutral!Reader

Masterlist

Word Count: 650+

A/N: This fic is sort of a combination of a few of the (comparatively) similar requests I received, along with one particular scene that’s been running wild and ping ponging around in my brain for far too long. I somehow convinced my partner (who could not care less about fanfiction, but adores me) to proofread this for me. So any complaints should definitely be addressed to them—as I was, unfortunately, far too sleep deprived to read over this anymore than I already have. As always, I hope you enjoy—feel free to leave any feedback you have in the comments, and happy reading! :)

Warnings: Angst, intentional allusions to past SA (the circumstances are left purposefully vague), concerning both Astarion and the Reader, writer will often suddenly break off into unexpected poetic tangents, a smidge of fluff—if you squint, & perhaps a bittersweet ending (depending on how you interpret it?)

“Darling”, Astarion carefully poses his words, “Are you certain that you’re quite alright?”

You’re terrified. He can see it. Your pulse is visibly thumping beneath your skin, and there’s a tremor to your hands he’s certain wasn’t there before.

But why now?

You’ve told him you trust him, demanded the others leave if they weren’t willing to accept the gift that is his company, and mere seconds ago offered yourself to him as a meal—to what you, with both intimate knowledge and first hand experience, know is a hungry vampire.

He would be questioning your sense of self preservation, or alternatively, your sanity. If he wasn’t awed by just how quickly you’ve managed to sway your companions' loyalty.

It takes a moment for you to notice he’s asked you a question. But once you have, you nod.

He sighs, clicking his tongue at you. That vacancy behind your eyes, it’s unnerving, too familiar. “Don’t lie, it doesn’t suit you. What is it?”

Your gaze shifts, opting to search for what must be a rather interesting spot somewhere behind him.

Two breaths in.

Two breaths out.

Astarion falters. That may have been harsh—if your continued silence is anything to go by. Perhaps, he should have left the lie to rest.

“Dearest”, he works to intentionally soften his tone, shoving past the honeyed lump that rises in his throat, thickly coated with syrup. This little manipulation won’t be ending in a hand naively held between his as he leads you down unassuming crypt steps.

He knows that.

“If you’ve suddenly changed your mind about”, he gestures vaguely between himself and your neck, “I’m sure I can make do with whatever animals find themselves unluckily situated in this part of the forest.”

Humble or selfless certainly isn’t his favorite role to play, but if he wants you to be his personal guard, it seems he may have to make an exception.

“No!” You blurt out, swallowing thickly at the raised brow he sends in your direction, mouth suddenly very dry, “I—It’s not that. I swear to you.”

He tuts, “Ah, but it is something. Hmm?”

You nod again, frustrated tears building in your eyes as each attempt at an explanation falls flat.

“No, it couldn’t—it”, Astarion makes a rather exaggerated motion with both of his hands, clutching his chest in theatrical shock, “Was it Gale?”

You huff, but it’s more exasperated than annoyed.

The left side of his lips lifts.

You drag your own roughly between your teeth.

“Earlier, you made a comment about being quiet, not wanting to disturb my rest”, unsteady hands bury themselves in the fabric of your pants, “Those words, the sudden realization that someone…anyone could have access to my body like that while I slept”, your head slumps forward, “The last time—I can’t.”

Two breaths in.

Two breaths out.

Astarion’s fingers slot into place beneath your chin, tilting it upwards to look at him.

And suddenly all you can see are the differences.

Everything he is appears less forced. No longer are you merely an audience and he an actor, but equals. Those that have found a common ground built upon the cruelty of others.

Far too accustomed to it.

There’s a raw familiarity held within your expression Astarion can’t quite discern.

Perhaps, in another life, someone cared for him. Once. To look at him with such fondness.

He wonders if he deserved it, then.

He allows the hold he has on you to become lighter and lighter, until his arm returns to hang at his side.

You hear a weary sigh, then, gently, “For what it’s worth, I’m truly sorry.”

A small smile flutters across your lips, light and without expectation. It’s a kindness he hasn’t yet learned how to navigate—and certainly has not earned, but he yearns for it all the same.

“Thank you, Astarion.”

BG3 Taglist: None yet!

[milkteasweetheart]

『just like heaven, chapter 1, part 3』

this part contains riddle’s dream sequence. 

housewardens x reader

author’s note: i depict nrc as an actual college, so first years are 18, second years 19, etc.

summary: crowley has the bright idea of a bonding experience, specifically in the form of a dream potion.

characters: (riddle rosehearts), leona kingscholar, azul ashengrotto, jamil viper, vil schoenheit, idia shroud, malleus draconia / platonic mentions: dire crowley (ew), grim

genre: romance, fluff, smidge of angst

warnings: female reader, reader is yuu, reader is around ace and deuce’s height, sappy, marriage, mentions of potential children, some suggestive themes

「dream scene: rose colored reverie」

Everything is going Azul’s way. Last week the prefect told him he has nice handwriting, his academic rival is suffering, and everyone is a bit on edge, especially Idia, who just tried to conspire with Jamil to figure a way out.

Azul is not nervous. He doesn’t have dreams, except those he’s already decided on. Goals is a better term for it. He is curious as to what the prince of Briar Valley wants. Perhaps he could make a deal? A bit ambitious, but… such is business. Speaking of Malleus, Azul is sure he hasn’t blinked in a few minutes.

(Y/N) is sitting on a chair, turned away from the scene. No thoughts are currently moving inside her head in order to preserve sanity for upcoming tomfoolery. “Sweet potato, do you remember what your dreams are about?” Vil hopes they involve him. “I can’t really remember. I just blackout from exhaustion when my head hits the pillow.” His face isn’t exactly pleased. “Stress isn’t good for you. I’ll talk with the headmage. Just so you know, you’re always welcome at Pomefiore.” Preferably permanently.

“Let’s go to the main event, my love.” Dream (Y/N) extends her hand to Dream Riddle, who gladly takes it. (Y/N) is pretty sure she heard someone shriek a bit when the cafe warped. 

⋆⭒˚｡⋆☾⋆⭒˚｡⋆

The scent of roses wafts through the lakeside park. Stars dot the sky. (Y/N) is yet again quick to recover, and sees the couple on a checkered picnic blanket.

Riddle wants to run away. This is the conversation that happens at the end of each of his dreams. It’s blatant wish fulfillment, but it staves away most of the yearning during the day.

He finds his words. “...please. Let me preserve my dignity.” His face is comparable to the strawberry tart from the cafe. Leona ignores his plea and lies down on the grass near the couple. “Nah. Besides, I bet octobitch will have an even worse sapfest than whatever your brain could come up with.” Azul makes a face. “Mind your words.” He is ignored.

Jamil and Vil have settled onto the bench facing the meadow where the couple are laying. Dream Riddle has his head on Dream (Y/N)’s arm, and they are holding hands.

Riddle knows the coming conversation beat by beat. “It’s beautiful.” Gray eyes wonder at the sky. “So are you. More so, I’d argue.” Her voice is quiet, but confident. Like she’s speaking facts. “We’ll be together longer than the stars will twinkle in the sky.” A lovestruck smile crowns the statement. “You mean it?” The voice it’s spoken in wavers with the threat of tears. “I know it. We’ll live here, with our friends, and each other. We won’t have to do anything we don’t want to. I’ll take you out every night and day, if you want it. I’ll do anything so you’ll be happy.” The real Riddle is currently staring at the prefect. She isn’t reacting, but her gaze is soft. Is it pity she’s feeling?

He sighs. He’ll be clowned on for the rest of his life by Azul, and he pleads to the Seven that Ace and Floyd will never have any word of this. He jumps at the feeling of a hand on his shoulder.

“...Hey. Don’t feel bad. Dreams come from the subconscious or something.” (Y/N) considered her next words. “We can go hang out somewhere cool if you want. Just ask.” She figured his mind has just blended some old romance movie and his want for rebellion without punishment together. “Thank you, prefect.” Riddle smiles with a relieved look.

That’s the queue for Malleus to change the dream into Leona’s.

[brassknucklespeirs]

Sᴄᴀʀʏ Dᴏɢ Pʀɪᴠɪʟᴇɢᴇ [Jᴏᴇ Tᴏʏᴇ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ]

Genre: Speed run enemies to lovers??? But also funny and cute???

Warnings: Swearing, a little bit of sexism, descriptions of warfare, mention of blood and wounds, the general idea is if you couldn't handle band of brothers, don't freaking read this okay?

Disclaimer: No disrespect to the real men of WW2, this is based off the actors portrayal from HBO

HI GUYS! I'M SO EXCITED THIS IS MY FIRST FIC BACK AND I'M SO HAPPY WITH IT SO PLEASE ENJOY! I'VE MISSED YOU GUYS LIKE CRAZY

To say Y/N was not warmly welcomed as a female replacement in Easy Company was an understatement. She was at the bottom of the food chain at this point; the Toccoa men being at the top, with her fellow replacements being beneath them, and then her at the very bottom thanks to her lack of an extra limb between her legs. In all honesty, she wasn't as bothered as she thought she would be, but perhaps that was because after making it through basic training she was more than use to being leered at; whether it was in distain, lust, or indifference was dependant on the man.

It wasn't all bad she guessed, but even in those men who did show her kindness, she still saw the hint of apprehension in their eyes as the smile they held didn't quite cover the look from their gaze. She was the only female in Easy company, while all of the other women that she had trained with were sent to Dog and Fox company. She held a sliver of envy because of this, for she didn't truly understand why none of the others had joined her in Easy, and yet here she was, the only woman in a company of men who saw her as a silly little girl playing dress up. Any time the monachopsis had crept in she pushed it away, reminding herself of why she was here, why she was persisting through the cold, both that which she was dealt from the men and that which the snowy terrain of Bastogne had brought her freely.

She kept to herself mostly, though it drove her slightly mad as she wished to share the unfamiliar sense of comradeship that she saw flowing between the men around her. Y/N would often find herself staring longingly as she watched them unconsciously huddle closer to each other to keep warm, while her stomach clenched in disappointment as they shared quiet laughter in their foxholes, exchanging jokes and light-hearted taunts to bring their spirits up as much as they could.

Yet here she was, alone in every meaning of the word except physically, holed up in a foxhole with someone who did not care for her existence as he looked down on her as a nuisance. Y/N's gaze would often flicker to the man beside her, taking note of how he pressed himself as close to his side of the dirty dugout in the ground, like she was a plague to be avoided. She could never stop her teeth from sinking into the raw flesh of her chewed bottom lip to keep herself from speaking to him, knowing the last time she had tried, he had ripped into her. The man had thrown insults and harsh words about how she was an army experiment gone wrong, and how the only reason she was allowed to be here is because they were that desperate for running targets to distract the Nazis from shooting at the 'real' soldiers. Every word had hit its mark but she refused to show it, keeping up her façade of indifference and annoyance until he had turned his back on her, at which point of time she had shifted her head in the opposite direction to let the tears that threatened to spill fall down her cheeks.

It was easy to see how Joe Toye was the man everyone painted him out to be, yet where others saw him as strong-willed she saw him as stubborn, and in the place of being a good leader, she had seen a pushy prick who expected those around him to bend and shape to his will. His sense of arrogance truly did stun her when she first arrived to the front, and though she never really got over it, she learnt how to play the ignorant card for the sake of her sanity; or perhaps for the sake of her position in Easy company, for she wasn't quite sure if she would be kept around if she bad-mouthed one of her sergeants. Yet it was in moments like that, when Joe used the consistent excuse of needing to watch the line to keep his glare off of her that she would watch anything but the line. She hated herself for it sometimes, knowing that her lack of normality had caused her to seek out any familiar comfort she could around her. The familiar comfort in question being the picture of a handsome face. He was all sharp angles from side on, with his sculpted jawline and large, curved nose, and she found herself flitting her gaze over his features in moments of quiet. A little too easy on the eyes for someone lacking any means of a soft spoken personality, she had thought to herself once as she forced herself to look away from him.

Y/N's jaw ached from how tightly she was grinding her teeth, her arms wrapped tightly around her torso as she tried to savour in her own warmth. Her gaze held envy as she eyed Malarkey, Muck, Penkala and Luz huddled together, giggling to one another while they talked in hushed voiced. She wished to know what it felt to relish in the cosiness they seemed to hold between one another, wanted to know what it was to laugh over such meaningless jokes to break through the bitter sensation that wrapped its way around her lonely heart. She huffed out a breath of frustration as she downed the rest of the lukewarm coffee that Lipton had previously handed her, the cup having already been half drunk when the first sergeant had taken pity on the clearly shivering woman and offered her the rest. Y/N sent Lip a small but grateful smile when she handed him back the mug as he shuffled past her, a stiff nod of his head and his own small smile being the acknowledgement she received before he walked off.

Y/N rolled her rigid shoulders as she walked back towards her and Joe's foxhole, her rifle tucked tightly between her arms and chest while her hands were squished under her armpits to savour the little warmth her body gave off. Her entire body froze for a moment as a whistling sound rung through her ears, carried through the breeze from the town of Foy below them. Y/N's head snapped behind her to look towards Lip over her shoulder, the first sergeant stared back at her with wide eyes, the both of them letting the realisation fall over them. Lipton's voice of authority resonated over the company members close by as he yelled to take cover over and over again, a mix of alarm and agitation leaking off every sharp syllable. Y/N's feet seemed to move without any further thought when the first shell hit the ground with an almighty bang, digging its nose into the dirt before scattering it across the frozen terrain. She threw herself into the closest cover she could, a shallow foxhole that looked as if it had been given up on halfway through being dug, her arms immediately covering her head while she pressed her cheek against the snow. From the position she was in, she was able to see the chaos that ensued around her as trees exploded and men screamed over the noise at one another. Her teeth sunk into the skin on the inside of her cheek, and the metallic taste of blood told her she had clenched too harshly as the anxiety built up in her chest.

The lone figure of a man in the distance caught her attention as they seemed to be the only person who had stupidly continued to scramble for cover while those around him had found theirs. Her gaze shifted to the trail of shells hitting the forest floor, and her uneasy grew, noting that the path they travelled was heading straight for the running soldier. She wasn't quite sure what led her to the point of brainlessness but in a split second decision, she was up and out of the half dug foxhole, her feet pushing her full force across the snowy ground towards him, her quads aching with every step. The cold wind blasted across her face while several bursts of heat would hit her cheek as the shells grew closer to her. Her heart felt ready to leap out of her chest as she watched the trail of destruction close in to her position with every step she took closer towards the figure. With seemingly seconds to spare, her body collided harshly with his, throwing his body to the side as they narrowly avoid a shell that blew the trees behind them to splinters. Y/N wasted no time as her hands gripped at the man's uniform and pulled him from the ground though a burning sensation along the side of her hip told her she had been hit. She didn't take the time to analyse her wound, throwing the man into the closest foxhole before diving after him, though another shell from behind them caused her to tumble in after him as it threw her off her feet. She managed to catch herself before she completely crushed the man beneath her, her hands and knees hitting the ground either side of him, holding her above his body. As the blasts continued around them, she took no time to ponder the precarious position she had landed in, the warm heat of the man she had saved pressed against her torso as she sat straddled over his lying body. She felt his chin pressed against the top of her head as she curled tightly into him, her face hidden in the crook of his neck without thought.

As the shelling eased and the forest around them grew silent once more, Y/N raised her head towards the sky as to angle her ears in such a way to hear better, but the ringing that echoed from the remnants of the blast was like an alarm bell. Her suspicions were confirmed when she heard Lipton's voice yell to stay down, and her stomach clenched in anticipation. She tilted her head back down towards the man as she felt him wriggle beneath her and a blush rose to her cheeks as she turned to apologise and move only to meet the dark eyes of Joe Toye. Her face hardened as she stared down at him, his eyes looking up to meet her gaze with surprise evident in his pupils. Y/N breathed harshly through her nose, pulling one leg over his body so she no longer perched in his lap before she tugged them to her chest, shuffling to the other side of the foxhole with a stiff expression. Joe said nothing but his eyes continued to watch her for a few more moments, his gaze causing the hairs on her arms to rise; or perhaps that was the chill the air held, she wasn't certain. Y/N ran her tongue over her top teeth as the silence enveloped them, but her irritation rose the longer it went on, her fingers gripping tighter at her rifle causing her knuckles to turn white.

"You're welcome, by the way." She spoke suddenly, her tone cold but the way she kept her eyes off of him expressed the idea that she didn't care; she certainly did care, and she expected grateful appreciation for saving his sorry ass. She turned her attention to what was going on above the foxhole they sat in as she pushed herself to a crouch to poke her head cautiously over the edge of the dugout, her eyes sweeping over the area as she analysed it carefully. Joe watched her in silence for another moment, his eyes trailing over the side of her face as she remained oblivious. He had previously noted that her face held a gentle beauty, but in this moment with messy hair peaking out from under her helmet, brows furrowed and her jaw visibly clenching, she held more of a wild divinity, like a budding rose that’s stem held many thorns. He drew in a breath as he forced himself to turn away as he thought to himself, A little too beautiful for someone who holds such an icy façade.

"Yeah. Thanks." Joe finally muttered shortly as he gazed down at his hands. Y/N didn't turn to look at him, but rolled her eyes at his stiff reply, not overly convinced he meant it. She opened her mouth to reply, swivelling on her toes to looked down at him only for the burning in her hip to arise again. The woman let out a strangled gasp, her hand immediately flying to the sliced flesh on her hip as the adrenaline running through her body began to dissipate. Joe's eyes widened, watching as she moved quickly to sit on her uninjured hip, all but collapsing beside him. "Shit Y/L/N. This just happen?" The sergeant called while moving closer to her, and if she wasn't focussed on her pain, Y/N would have seen fit to roll her eyes once more. She groaned, biting at the sensitive flesh of her lip as she pulled some of the torn fabric away from the wound, revealing the blood leaking from her body.

"Yeah. Next time remind me not to save your sorry ass." Y/N replied with as much of an taunting sneer as she could muster, completely disregarding their difference in rank as quite honestly in that moment she couldn't have cared less. Someone needed to dish it back to this man everyone once in a while to ensure his head didn't grow too large, and if that person had to be her, then she'd give it her best go. Even now as she squirmed uncomfortably at the burning gash on her hip, she was fully prepared to release the feminine rage that she had held caged in her chest for the last few months if she really had to.

Neither of them were given a moment to continue this exchange of simmering annoyance as a new bout of whistles filled the air causing Y/N to whine in distress, curling into herself to grasp at any comfort she could. She looked up from under her brows towards the sky as the first explosion went off, but immediately flinched in discomfort, turning her body away and pushing herself as close to the side of the foxhole as she could. When the not-so-solid soil wall seemed to wrap its arms around her tightly in a moment of shared unease, Y/N realised she had, in fact, unconsciously turned away from the wall of the foxhole, not towards it, and found herself pressed firmly against the warm body of Joseph Toye. The man's arms remained steadfast around her waist as the chaos outside the foxhole continued, his own fear slipping through with every 'bang' that was heard. The ground shook violently as a shell hit close by and Y/N let out a strangled scream of terror. Her hands unravelling from themselves to grasp at Joe's jacket, tugging herself closer to him while she tried her best to focus on the warmth that radiated from him, or the way his fingers could be felt rubbing back and forth over her spine. Even if he was a particularly cold man towards her, it had not been the first time she had used him as a distraction, though this was much more than just admiring him from afar. There was a certain intimacy in being held as if she was the only thing that could bring reassurance to the soldier beside her, a type of intimacy she had gladly welcomed at that moment as she too tightened her grip on his shirt, even going as far to hide her face in the fabric covering his shoulder.

A heavy silence hung over the air when the shelling stopped, the only noise being the creaking of nearby trees, half destroyed from the blasts and desperately clinging to hold their form. Y/N stayed leaning against Joe, his warmth offering comfort as her body grew tired as the adrenaline had leaked faster from her than it had the last time. Her wound began to burn hotter than last time, and a pained whine left her lips as she lifted her hand, pulling her face from the man's jacket to watch as crimson blood trickled down the palm it had begun to stain.

"Shit. MEDIC!" Joe screamed out as he glanced down at the woman as she lay groaning against his side, her hands coloured with scarlet liquid while her face was screwed up in a look of discomfort. "Uh, how many fingers am I holding up?" He asks, his voice a mixture of worry and uncertainty, his hand showing three fingers. Y/N seemed to pause her groaning for a moment, her head tilting up to look at him, her face showing disbelief at the words. Her gaze flickered between his face and his fingers, too confused to answer immediately as she took in the dead-serious look of concern on his features.

"I'm not dying you fucking moron. It's a shallow gash not a mortal wound." She replies with a quiet snort from her nose in amusement. Sure, the sliced flesh burned but it was certainly nothing to write home about, and she was more than prepared to never think about it again once she had been seen to by a medic. Until that point, she would ensure she'd made it clear to Joe that she deserved a little bit of appreciation for drawing blood for him, even if it was her own. The man rolled his eyes at her answer, pushing his fingers closer to her face while his brows tugged together in silent frustration.

"Just answer the fucking question Y/L/N." He said firmly. With a huff of irritation, Y/N gave her answer before using the hand that wasn't pressed tightly against the wound on her hip to flick his own hand away from her face.

"Thank the lord above they didn't make you a goddamn medic." She muttered under her breath quietly, though the roll of his eyes told her he had heard the words leave her mouth. The corners of her lips quip up in amusement but she pulled her eyes away from him as a heavy set of footfall could be heard coming towards them. Gene appeared beside her before she could blink, his presence causing her to jump in fright  "Jesus Gene, I just told Toye I wasn't dying. Don't you dare make me look a fool by giving me a heart attack." The woman mumbles lightly to the medic as he doesn't waste a second, pulling her hand from the wound and inspecting it closely.

"Sorry Y/L/N." Gene muttered gently, his eyes flickering up to hers for a moment in polite acknowledgement. He looked back down at the gash and noted several splinters still sticking out causing him to screw his face up in concentration, his eyes analysing the best way to get them out. He pulled his tweezers from his pouch and without warning, plucked the first splinter from her hip bringing about a cry made up of surprise and discomfort that rose loudly from her lips. Without thinking, her hand flew out to the side, landing on Joe's thigh, before squeezing tightly to sate her pain.

"AH, come on Gene, a little warning would be nice." She groaned, her fingers digging into the flesh of Joe's leg while she squirmed against his side as if trying to shuffle away from the medic and his tweezers. Joe let out a huff of bemusement as he glanced between her hand on him and her face, though he couldn't help the slight redness that dusted his cheeks.

"So would a homecooked Christmas dinner made by my ma, but we can't always get what we want, can we Y/N?" Joe said almost mockingly. The woman threw a warning glare over her shoulder in response to his words, not appreciative of his snark as she had a pair of tweezers shoved half an inch into a gash she took for him. Y/N watched as Gene finished pulling the splinters from her flesh, and wriggled uncomfortably as he stitched up the wound, yet the bleeding crimson that escaped from her had already painted the snow beneath her.

When the medic had finished up with dressing her wound as well as he could with his limited supplies, he had quickly disappeared off into the snowy terrain surrounding them. The woman kept her gaze on him as he ran off, a small smile of amusement painting her lips when she sees him scurry away so quickly. Movement against her hand reminded her that she was still gripping at Joe's thigh and without a single glance she retracted it as if she had been burnt, and it honestly looked as though she had been from the rose dusted blush on her cheeks. She didn't say a word to Joe, turning her head away from him so he could not see the embarrassment that so clearly showed on her face, yet the man used it to his advantage as he glanced out the corner of his eyes to look at her, his expression that of curiosity and intrigue. With a silent huff of amusement and a subtle shake of his head, Joe realised he had been wrong about Y/N, very wrong indeed.

▄︻デ----══━一

Joseph Toye had held a deep distain of the female replacement since the moment she showed up. Every part of her annoyed him; the way she seemingly refused to interact with most of the men as if she was above them, the way she watched them closely with narrowed eyes, the way she held herself like she was special because she was the only woman assigned to Easy company, the way she was so god damn distracting. He had decided quickly that she was not at all what a normal soldier was supposed to be, and let his thoughts and assumptions cloud his judgement. But after she had saved his ass from being blown sky high, he felt a strange feeling nag at his gut; guilt. His mind was a jumble of thoughts, mostly questions, of why she had taken the risk, why she would have bothered to put herself in the line of fire for anyone. He had a fair idea that she would not have known that it was him she was saving, the snowy haze that lingered in the air making it hard to see anything but silhouettes. Yet even then she had still gone out of her way, and gotten hurt in the process, just to ensure whatever random soldier that had failed to find cover was unharmed. She was braver than he gave her credit for.

His eyes followed her every move after Gene had left the foxhole they had fallen into, though in all honesty, they had been watching her for much longer than that. He remembered the way she interacted with Gene, and he wondered why she seemed to show a softer side for only a few of the men. Perhaps it was all backwards, and it was the other men who had given her a harsher side, one that had pushed her away. The guilt that ate at him came back as he realised his mistake, his mind flashing through the memories of what he had said to her, and how he had watched as others did the same and did nothing to stop them. That feeling didn't stop him from staying silent though, and if anything, it made him more reluctant to speak with her as he had come to know just how much he had screwed up. He felt like an idiot, so busy assuming the worst in her to see that he was a large part of the problem. She wasn't putting herself on a pedestal, she was protecting herself by being closed off to those around her who had taken one look at the woman and decided she wasn't worth their time.

They had lost Skip and Penkala the next day and following that, they had lost Buck, who seemed to feel the weight of the world collapse on him after he saw the explosion that took the two soldiers. Y/N could see where it had all gone wrong with the lieutenant, having watched as the light seemed to leave his eyes day by day until finally something gave way. She felt for him, but she could do nothing as she felt her own pressure on her shoulders, just as everyone else did, pushing her further into silence as she let her thoughts consume her more with every passing moment. The woman had sat quietly in the foxhole beside the ever present sergeant as Buck was led away by Lipton and Luz, tears leaking from his eyes and whimpers leaving his lips. Her mouth had grown dry, her heart clenching almost painfully at the sight of the broken man. Her eyes had meet Joe's for but a second as they shared a look that mirrored the other's, worry and unease swimming in their expression before she pulled her gaze from him, gulping down the feeling of disappointment.

The days following were much the same as each other, and though the two had spoken the odd word to one another when needed, they had generally kept to their own side of the foxhole. The only thing different was that of Y/N's lack of attention on Joe; her eyes no longer strayed to him and remained heavily on the line before them at all times aside from when she was sleeping. It seemed as though her lack of interest in him had increased his interest in her as if he had picked up the slack she had let loose. Her lip was chewed raw as every time she got the urge to look at him, she had countered it by tearing into her flesh with her teeth, like a punishment for having such ideas. The healing gash along her hip held a slight ache, yet it was the itch that drove her crazy, and she had already been growled at by Doc for ripping the scab open. It was the little things such as these that she used to distract herself from him; since she had saved him, he had changed from being the distraction to being distracting, and it sent her mind into a frenzy of thoughts.

It was early evening by the looks of the darkening sky when Joe had wandered off from their shared foxhole to grab some grub, his eyes finally moving from Y/N's form as she continued to watch the line from her spot. He wandered over to where several of the men had gathered to eat, and he made his way to Bill's side as soon as he spotted the man who grinned towards him. They chatted to themselves quietly while eating, mostly about Buck and his departure. Joe held his hands under his arms to warm up as the cold breeze pierced his coat, and his eyes were set on Bill as he spoke until something Cobb said had caught his attention. The sergeant had snapped his head towards the latter man when he mentioned something about Y/N, something lacking respect for the woman.

"Come off it will yah Cobb, she's just trying to do her job." Toye voice was firm as it cut through the air, his eyes holding a warning glare that only caused the smaller man to smirk as he turned to look at him.

"Oh? Tell me, has she been serving you as her sergeant well in that foxhole, hm?" Cobb snarked causing a couple of groans and noises of disappointment to sound from some of the men around them as the words left the man's mouth. They may not have all warmed up to the idea of a woman in the company, but she had not done anything to give room for such a derogatory accusation. Joe's hands clenched around his rifle as his jaw grew tense in anger, simmering in his blood while it began to boil. He didn't have time to question his own mind as it acted on autopilot, preparing to defend his foxhole partner's name against this soldier who loves to stir the pot a little too much for his liking.

"Show some god damn respect. She's done exactly what the rest of us have, her being a woman doesn't change that." He replied, his knuckles turning white, holding himself back from socking Cobb across the face.

"Except she hasn't. She's been here for what? A couple of months? Yet what good has she been?" Cobb said with a huff, his upper lip twitching in annoyance. Joe's mind flashed with memories of her body colliding with his to stop him from being blown to bits, and of the blood that leaked from her body as Gene patched her up. His jaw grew sharper, if it even could, the curve of it looking as if it had been cut from steel while the muscles connected to it rippled tightly under his skin.

"You seem to have gotten over this problem with the other replacements a while ago. Just say you're being a sexist prick and go Cobb." Joe said sternly, taking a step towards the shorter man with a dark look on his face. He held his head high as his gaze looked down his nose to assert a warning dominance over the other man, expressing the risk of opening his mouth to talk back once more with that action alone. Cobb seemed to gulp, his eyes trailing over Joe's imposing form as he realised his mistake. He said nothing as he stepped backwards, his feet taking him away from the dark haired man, only lowering his head in a show of capitulation before he scurried away. Joe followed him with his dark gaze until Luz placed a hand on his shoulder, pulling his attention away from Cobb in hopes that he would not run after him to smack him across the face. Lipton watched from not too far away, having heard what had gone one, but he did not proceed to move closer as he glanced over his shoulder to Y/N who stood hidden from the scene behind him. The way her eyes remained on her coffee, wide and vacant, he knew she had heard every word that had been shared between the men.

"Don't let it get to you Y/N." Lipton said quietly as he turned to face her causing her to look up at him. She nodded but didn't say anything. In all honesty, none of Cobb's words had bothered her as she was so used to having comments like that thrown around about her. What did confuse her was the way Toye defended her so firmly, unwavering and looking fully prepared to hit the other man for what he said. Her eyes lingered on said man over Lip's shoulder, taking the time she hadn't used in recent days to look at him, especially now as it seemed no one but the first sergeant before her were aware she was there. She took note of the fact that it took Luz several words to calm Joe down, and she wondered whether he had been defending her or if he had simply been defending himself against the accusation that the two of them had been less than professional in their foxhole. The woman pondered the thought all the way back to their foxhole, though she didn't let the thought consume her enough that she couldn't be vigilant about her surroundings, her gaze remaining on the line as she settled back into her position. It wasn't long before Joe returned, his face no longer holding a tense anger, yet his brows were still furrowed in what she could guess to be concentration. That sat in silence for several minutes, both sets of eyes carefully running over the snowy terrain in front of them until the man's voice cut through the quiet.

"I'm sorry." Joe's voice was like a knife cutting through the tension, though his tone held a genuine edge to it, one that made her whip her head towards him in shock.

"What?" Y/N exclaimed before she had a chance to stop herself, completely thrown off by his words. The man took a deep breath before finally turning to return her gaze, his eyes hold sincerity.

"I said I'm sorry." He repeated, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed his nervousness at the feeling of her eyes piercing into him. "I think…I think I assumed several things about you that have turned out to be very wrong, and I apologise."

"I-" She stuttered for a moment as she processed his words. Her mouth opened before shutting quickly, a motion she repeated multiple times, trying to select her next words but choking on them every time. Joe forced himself to hold back an amused smile at her flustered expression, knowing it was not the right time.

"And the things I said and the way I acted because I let my own assumptions cloud my judgement were uncalled for." He continued, his hands wringing around the barrel of his rifle as a means of comfort for the conversation was necessary but it did not stop his stomach from churning.

"You can say that again." She mumbled under her breath, but he heard her and let out a loud exhale from his nose.

"Look, I'm trying to apologise here, can you just give me a second?" The man groaned, feeling a nervous frustration as he wished to express his vulnerable thoughts without the snark she held in her tone. Y/N pursed her lips, her teeth nibbling at the inside of her mouth as she did. She nodded slowly, raising a hand to push a stray hair from her face before she opened her mouth.

"Right, yes. Continue." Her eyes ran over his face as she spoke, taking in every miniscule detail to memory unconsciously.

"Thank you." He said with a grateful nod, "As I was saying, I shouldn't have said what I did. You aren't some failed experiment, and you certainly aren't just a running target. Hell, you've shown more in the last few days than a lot of the men have the entire time they've been here." His cheeks held the slightest tinge of red as he spoke the words to her, his body tense as he waited for her reply.

"Well…thanks Sarg." She says slowly, her expression showing she didn't quite know how to take his apology as she had not at all been expecting it. Y/N's heart bet out of her chest as their eyes met again, his lips turning up into a small smile that she would never admit made her stomach clench in a strange mix of unease and attraction. She knew for the sake of herself, she had to take his apology with a grain of salt, ensuring that he showed he was sorry more than just expressing it in words with little meaning. Her mind flashed with a rerun of his angered face staring at Cobb with a menacing look she'd seen a few time from him.

"Just Joe is fine." Joe's voice broke through her thoughts once more, and it took her a moment to gather herself, realising what he meant after a few seconds. She blinked animatedly as she looked at him, taking in his expression, the small smile mixed with the genuine look in his eyes. The woman chewed the inside of her cheek once more before nodding.

"Alright, just Joe." Y/N replied with a hint of playful grin on her lips, and the man chuckles lightly at her jest. They shared a friendly smile, feeling a strange weight taken off their shoulders; Joe knowing he was able to show he was willing to find a way to redeem himself, while Y/N was simply happy to feel a sense of comradeship from someone she had to spend so much time with.

▄︻デ----══━一

The seat beneath Y/N jostled as the truck hit a stray pothole in the rustic road they drove down, moving towards the town of Haguenau. She felt a sense of warmth as she sat sandwiched between Joe and George, her head titled down with her lower face nestled into the scarf wrapped around her neck. Luz, who had been struggling to not talk her ear off with random gibberish, had finally closed his mouth as he let his tiredness set in, his eyes fluttering closed every now and then. Y/N held a small smile on her face while she watched him, shaking her head in amusement as she turned away from him. A sigh left her lips as she readjusted her sitting position, her tailbone numb from the hard wood of the seat below her while she wished for anything to be able to find a comfortable way to lean her head back to relieve the ache in her shoulders. She shifted her head from side to side, testing each placement of her head she could think of, only to groan quietly in frustration once more. Something soft pressed against the back of her head suddenly, and she fought against herself to not jump in fright, turning her eyes quickly towards Joe. She took note of the way he held his hands raised as he adjusted his own scarf behind her, obviously aware of her discomfort, yet he said nothing and only motioned with a nod of his head for her to lean back. She sent him a small smile, before snuggling her head back, sighing in content at the perfect positioning. Y/N closed her eyes, rolling her shoulders a few times as she settled down for a short nap, ready to shut out the world for as much time as she could. Joe observed her, nodding to himself in silent satisfaction knowing he had been the one to bring her comfort, and he turned away from her with a hint of a smile.

Y/N had woken with a jolt as they came to a halt, her eyes snapping open within a second, gaze already surveying the area around her to ensure she was safe. A gentle hand lay itself on her shoulder and she shifted to stare at Luz as he grinned at her, sending her into a sense of calm, her grip loosening on the rifle she had clutched at tightly. Her lips twitched into a grateful curve at the man, a small nod of her head acknowledging his action before she jumped down from the vehicle behind Joe, her boots hitting the ground with a crunch when she landed.

Y/N had wandered behind the other men, catching sight of Lipton as they made their way towards the houses causing her brows to pull down in concern at the sick man. She jogged quickly to the first sergeant's side, her hair that she had let down to relieve her aching scalp bouncing against her back with every step until she made it to him. Joe had glanced over his shoulder to ensure she was there, but as the spot she had once lingered in lacked her presence, he quickly whirled around to see her walking with Lipton in a different direction. The man groaned under his breath before changing the course of his pathway, manoeuvring through the crowd of men to follow behind her. His eyes scanned the environment around them, flickering to Y/N between completion of every sweep of his gaze.

The trucks had rattled so obnoxiously loud on their drive that Y/N's brain seemed to echo the sound even as she wandered around the house they were setting up as the company CP. The woman nodded her head with a smile as they made their way into what was left of the entertainment room, her expression directed towards Speirs who had acknowledged her greeting with his own tight lipped smile, though if one was to blink they would have missed it as he disappeared into a different room within an instant. She walked behind Lipton as she ushered him towards the couch in the middle of the room with a wave of her hand.

"Sit Lip, take your kit off and I'll make you a warm cup of joe." She said with a motherly smile pulled across her lips, warm and gentle. Lipton nodded with a grateful expression on his face, but it quickly morphed to discomfort as he pulled his webbing off, his muscles aching painfully with every movement. Joe entered not long after, taking his helmet from his head to run a hand through his hair, a sigh of content leaving his lips as he felt the absence of cold wind whipping against his skin. He peered around the place, regarding Y/N tinkering with a small cooker she had pulled from her pouches, a small noise of triumph coming from her lips as it burst to life with a kick start from her lighter. Joe bit the inside of his cheek to stop the smile from tugging at his lips, his eyes lingering on her for a moment before turning to Lipton.

"Nice place you got here Lip." He muttered with a raised brow. Lipton let out the slightest snort of amusement at the man's words, but his lack of energy led him to do nothing more. Lipton lowered himself slowly to the couch with a groan that made her move quickly to him, a blanket she had found in the other room in her hands. Joe had watched her with a small grin as she tended to their first sergeant, a comforting expression evident on her face.

"Managed to snag this for you. Hopefully it'll teach the lad who was using it previously to take more vigilance while napping." Y/N joked as she tucked it over Lip's body while he coughed uncomfortably. She leaned over him, pressing a hand to his head to check his temperature, sending him a reassuring smile. "Joe can you grab that paperwork over by the table please?" She muttered to him, her hand reaching towards it with a point of her finger as she wandered back over to the water she'd left to boil for Lip's coffee. One of her hands rose to pull her helmet from her head, placing it down on the piano beside her before she shook her hair out to let her scalp breath, having been stuffed painfully tight into braids under that metal for too long.

Several minutes later, the woman held the freshly made coffee in her hands, making her way back towards Lip and Joe as they conversed over the paperwork she had previously talked about. Footsteps made Joe shift his gaze to the door, eyes landing on Webster with an unimpressed look as he emerged into the room with a fresh face and lively expression.

"Sergeant Toye. Long time no see." Webster said as his sweep of the room led his eyes to Joe. The latter man snorted, rolling his eyes in bemusement at the newcomer who Y/N did not recognise.

"Long time, huh, you can say that again." Joe all but sneered at him, causing him to almost flinch at the harsh action. Y/N laid a hand on Joe's shoulder as she approached, leaning behind him and Lipton on the couch, as if she was silently telling him to settle down. She handed Lip his coffee, receiving a quiet 'thank you' in reply.

"Sergeant Lipton, feeling alright?" The new man said, eyes flickering between the first sergeant and Y/N, something Joe was more than aware of.

"He's got pneumonia." The woman expressed, while tucking the blanket she had placed on Lipton tighter around his body with her free hand.

"I didn't know we had field nurses this close to the front." The newcomer said in confusion, his words causing Joe to bristle under Y/N's hand. The woman felt her own annoyance flare up, not because she was assumed to be a nurse as she had no issue with that at all for the nurses were admirable women, but because this man had not stopped talking since he'd arrived, and yet they were still no closer to knowing why he was even here.

"Does she look like a fucking nurse to you Webster?" Joe exclaimed grumpily, his hand motioning to her combat uniform, her newly sown chevrons on display along her sleeve, and rifle that still stayed slung over her shoulder protectively. She squeezed her hand once more over his shoulder before letting go and standing, crossing her arms over her chest as Webster stared at her in disbelief.

"My apologies Corporal…" He replied, leaning forward ever so slightly as he waited for her to finish his sentence. She wanted to be sympathetic, but she was very quickly coming to realise how it was to welcome replacements like she had once been, the frustration and envy she felt from his appearance being so clean alone was enough to cause her to lose her sympathy as she became increasingly aware of the grime that marred her skin.

"Y/L/N." The woman concluded, her eyes not leaving Lipton as she moved to whisper to him, asking if he would be okay without her. With a nod of confirmation, Y/N prepared herself to leave the room, and as he realised this, Joe stood, putting his helmet back on and readjusting his rifle sling.

"Corporal Y/L/N. I'm Webster, Private Webster."

"Yeah, I gathered that." She replied dismissively as she grabbed her things, placing her helmet on her head before walking from the room without another word. Joe smirked at her words, a weird sense of pride swelling in his chest. The man sauntered after her, his eyes staying on Webster as he passed him, dark and menacing when he noted the rifleman peering at her back curiously. His shoulder bumped the Harvard man's when he passed, a silent warning to watch himself around Y/N, before he too disappeared out the door. Joe found Y/N not far from the front door of the building, conversing with Luz as she seemingly waited for him to join her on her walk back to first platoon.

"That was a good one Y/N." Joe said as he approached the two, both of whom turned to look at him wandered over. The woman blinked at him several time without a words before she reached forward in a sudden surge of movement, a look of faux concern covering her face as she raised her hand to Joe's forehead. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, his eyes flickering between her and Luz who held the same look of confusion as he did.

"What are you doing?" Joe asked while the back of her hand was pressed gently against his head.

"You feeling okay Joe? You just complimented me." She said, a mocking wide eyed look on her face as she played her role of the worried soldier.

"Ha ha. Very funny doll." The man muttered with a roll of his eyes, while Luz chuckled under his breath behind the two, the amusement clear in his gaze that moved between them. The radioman's stare shifted to Malarkey who had wandered up beside him, watching the two with a similar expression as his.

"My goodness, we should get Gene over here, you just gave me a pet name. It's looking bad Joe, I think you may be worse off than Lip." Y/N continued with a gasp, but a small smirk pulled to her lips when Joe gave her shoulder a playful shove. "So easy to rile up, aye tough guy." She mumbled with a grin as she looked at him one last time before turning and walking off towards their platoon housing. Luz turned his gaze upon Joe when she disappeared, watching as the latter man followed her every step with his eyes. Feeling George's own eyes on him, he shifted around to look at him, taking note of the smirk pulled across his lips as he stared at him with raised brows.

"What?" Joe asked in confusion but his brain slowly connected the dots, Luz speaking clearly of the suggestion he was putting forward with his expression alone. "Don't look at me like that." He continued as the shorter man stayed silent. Luz raised his hands in mock surrender after he slung his rifle over his shoulder, but the smirk never left his lips.

"I wouldn't fault you if you did. She's one hell of a dame." The man said before following Y/N down the street, leaving Joe behind for a moment as said man lost himself in his thoughts.

"He's right you know." Malarkey choked out, and though his face held a dull vacancy, he still managed to send Joe an encouraging smile that quipped at the edges of his lips. Joe looked at the other sergeant for a moment, thinking over the two men's words before he huffed a noise of amusement from his nose, but he covered it with a faux frustrated groan before walking off without another word to follow her towards their platoon.

▄︻デ----══━一

It had become increasingly aware to the men in Easy company that Joe seemed to follow Y/N like a shadow, and with the woman's promotion to corporal for the same platoon Joe was the sergeant for, it was even easier to go about this. The female paratrooper was more than aware of how he lingered constantly at her side, and she relished in the feeling of knowing someone always had her six, especially someone such as the slightly intense man known as Joseph Toye.  They moved like magnets; where Y/N went, Joe wasn’t far behind. The two made a good command team, leveling the scale with a contrast in strengths and weaknesses as Y/N made up for Joe's lacking people skills, while the man gave more of a harsh authority where she held a motherly presence. They held an even stronger sense of comradery, having come so far from their icy ways in Bastogne, literally and figuratively.

It seemed everyone held an awareness for this dynamic between the two. Well, everyone but David Webster, even after he had received his first warning the day he returned. It was a funny thought, the man being such a poetic and literary man, and yet he couldn't read into the protective affinity Joe held for the female paratrooper. It was a common theme for the Harvard man to watch Y/N with a look of intrigue since the moment he wandered back into company after his extended stay in that English hospital. Webster was in luck, having gotten away with it for several weeks now, as Joe's attention was kept elsewhere with more important things to protect the woman from. It wasn't until they reached the Eagle's Nest that things changed, and quickly at that; Webster's luck had run dry.

They had found themselves in an interesting juxtaposition, as the further into Germany they went, the further away from harm they seemed to be, with the surrender of a massive number of German troops. It came with the news of victory in Europe that the men had taken the time to revel, indulging themselves in the liquor that flowed plentifully, a gift from Hitler himself as they rounded up bottle after bottle from the dead man's cellar. Y/N sat happily beside Bill and Joe, laughing at a tipsy remark that Luz had made while sipping straight from a bottle of expensive champagne. Her face screwed up at the taste, not particularly fond of champagne but continuing to like the buzz it gave her.

Webster's eyes had strayed to her as they usually did, an action that Liebgott picked up on. A smirk rose to the cab driver's lips, shaking his head at his friend while taking a sip of Cognac from his glass. The Harvard man shifted his gaze when he felt Lieb looking at him, his eyebrows furrowed while glancing between said man and Skinny who sat beside him.

"Can I help you with something Joe?" David asked with a brazen tone. Liebgott's grin grew wider, a cheeky glint in his eye the longer he stared at Webster.

"No, no. Please, continue your shameless staring." The man countered teasingly, his mischievous nature getting the better of him as he felt the desire to let things unfold without his interruption. Webster's face screwed up as an unease settled over him, knowing that nothing good ever came from Lieb's mischief. He rolled his eyes and turned away, shaking the feeling off and setting his sights back on the woman who he had become quite taken with.

Y/N had felt eyes on her for a while now, but she didn't feel the need to seek out who it was, not caring much as she sat leaning her body just the slightest amount towards Toye's side. She glanced out of the corner of her eye, taking note of the precarious position his arm was in, slung over the back of her seat but not close enough to touch her. She sucked her teeth to conceal her smile, but was caught by Bill who held his own teasing smile, his eyes flickering between Joe's hand and her face. The woman squinted her eyes at him playfully before taking another swig of champagne, downing the rest as the men began to cheer for her. She threw her hands up victorious, the empty bottle displayed for them to see. Joe chuckled beside her, looking over the side of her face, admiring her gleaming smile and the way she had her hair down for once. In a moment of coincidence, his eyes flickered passed her and landed on the man sitting at a distance, staring directly at Y/N. Joe took in the way Webster seemed to hold a starry eyed, school boy expression on his face, causing him to narrow his darkening eyes. His lip twitched unconsciously, his arm drawing closer to the woman without her noticing. Joe's gaze moved towards Y/N when she stood suddenly, on a mission to find another bottle of foul tasting but expensive wine. His eyes followed her figure, and he wasn't the only one as his gaze flickered to Webster once again.

Webster took a deep breath as he watched the woman wander across the room to a table in the corner that held multiple bottles of liquor, a bright smile on her face as she glanced over her shoulder to acknowledge a joke that Luz had thrown to her when she passed him. His hand clenched around his glass before he patted his leg as he stood, causing Liebgott and Skinny to look at him.

"I'm gonna do it." Webster proclaimed proudly, squaring his shoulders before heading over to her. Skinny leaned forward quickly to protest against it, his face showing concern.

"No, Web, I don't think that's a good ide-" The man stopped, turning his head towards Liebgott as he laid a hand on his chest, pushing him back to his seat.

"Shut up, I want to enjoy this." He said with a grin, his eyes trained on Joe Toye as he waited for the man to strike.

Y/N stood at the table, moving aside several bottles as she read over each label to decide what she would drink next. She was oblivious to the man that closed in on her position, his mind running with things he would say as he mumbled to himself different greetings. The woman had shifted in her spot, a new bottle pulled to her chest when she twisted around to walk back to her friends. He chose his words before he opened his mouth to say them as he walked up behind her, only several metres between them. Her gaze moved to him just as he went to take one last step closer only for a larger body to step between them and Webster stumbled as to not walk directly into the brick wall that was Joseph Toye. The taller man glowered down at the Harvard man, eyes dark as he squinted them.

"Where you off to in such a rush Webster?" Joe said firmly, his arms crossing over his chest as a small sneering smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. Y/N had stopped walking back to their seats, opting to step up behind Joe, just enough so she could see what was unfolding. Webster's eyes glanced towards her form as she came back into view, and he rolled his shoulders to make himself seem bigger as he looked back to Joe.

"I just…wanted to talk to Y/N." He said, tilting his head up to seem confident in his words even though he was holding back a squirm from how dark Joe's gaze was. The man in question raised his brows, glancing over his shoulder to look at the woman, his grin widening as he saw how she stood closely behind him.

"Bold of you to assume she wants to talk to you." Joe retorted, shifting his eyes back to Webster. The latter man clenched his jaw in annoyance at the interference between him and Y/N.

"And you speak for her why?" Webster shot back, his own arms crossing over his chest. Y/N all but rolled her eyes at the interaction, but let it continue as her curiosity got the better of her, though she was ready to jump in if she must.

"I don't, I just know what she likes, and what she doesn't." Joe said with his smirk reaching ear to ear, his head tilting mockingly as if his words suggested more than what the conversation involved. Webster looked taken aback at the man's words, gaze flickering between the two before him, noting the way Joe had shuffled closer to her, and how she leaned towards him ever so slightly.

"Oh. Oh." Webster raised his eyebrows as if piecing a puzzle together, but at the realisation, his shoulders slumped slightly, and his gaze moved to the floor for a moment. "I..um..I'm just going to…" The man stuttered, his cheeks going red as he realised his mistake, reaching towards the table to swipe the first bottle he could reach before turning around and scampering off with his tail between his legs. As Webster sat back down, head lowered in shame and disappointment, he was aware of the amused giggle that left Liebgott's mouth, greatly entertained by the scene he had watched intently. He only laughed harder when Webster leaned over to smack him across the head in retaliation, dodging the hand before throwing his own back, all while giggling profoundly.

Joe watched Webster go, the smirk never leaving his smirk until he felt a hand grab at his bicep and tugging him towards their friends.

"Come on tough guy." Y/N said, her eyes rolling once more. He couldn't see her face as she had turned away from him, walking in front of him without taking her hand off his arm. He allowed himself to be dragged back to the table and sat back down beside the woman as she too took her seat. All of the men around them held looks of amusement as they looked at the two, before going back to their conversation and drinks when the pair said nothing.

"You're such a pain in the ass." The woman muttered to him beside her, her eyes not looking away from the men in front of her to gaze at him.

"You love it though." He whispered back while leaning closer to her ear, and he watched as the corners of her lips twitched upwards, her eyes glancing at him for a moment before she gave him a gentle shove to the chest.

"Shut up." She threw towards him dismissively causing him to laugh quietly, Meanwhile, her hands fiddled to open the bottle but she failed miserably, letting out a low huff of frustration. He took it from her suddenly, using his hand behind her to hold it and his other to pop the cork before handing it back to her. She muttered a quiet 'thank you', taking a sip of it while throwing her head back. Joe looked at her with a small grin, lowering his hand from where it had previously hovered to open her bottle, letting it lay over her shoulder, his hand hanging over her collarbone. Y/N inhaled quickly, almost choking on her drink while glancing out of the corner of her eyes at him again only for him to look away, gazing up at the ceiling as if pretending he didn’t do anything. She let out an amused huff from her nose before she allowed herself to settle against him, shuffling discreetly closer to him, her shoulder pressed carefully against his side. His smile grew, noting that she did not reject his advance, and he grew more bold as he tugged her closer so her neck rested against the inside of his elbow. Another breath left her nose, almost a sigh of content as she soaked in the feeling, the atmosphere of the room mixed with the man beside her setting her at ease.

Some of the men left early that night, deciding they would take the extra time they had to sleep, while other continued to party late into the night. Y/N felt herself growing more tired by the minute as she snuggled unconsciously into Joe's side. Her eyes seemed to flutter closed every now and then, before one of the men's loud laughs or boisterous words would make her open them once more. She yawned, using her hand to cover her mouth before she turned her face to hide in the collar of Joe's shirt, letting herself slip into a comfortable sleep. She didn't know how long she had been asleep when she felt Joe move underneath her, and she went to groan in annoyance until she felt an arm slip under her knees with another across the back of her shoulders, cradling her to a chest that smelt all too familiar.

"I've got her. I'll see you boys tomorrow." Joe said with a smile as he held the woman close to him, carrying her off towards the room she was staying in.

The man settled her down gently on the bed before tugging her boots off, and throwing the covers over her carefully. He took a moment to admire how peacefully she looked as her hair splayed out behind her on the pillow, low breaths leaving her lips. He smiled once before turning on his feet and making his way to the door, but he paused when he heard her voice call out to him.

"Where are you going?" She mumbled sleepily, one of her eyes squinting open as she looked at him standing a few metres away by the door.

"To bed, baby doll." He replied, his hand resting on the door handle.

"Then get in." Her hand reached towards the edge of the blanket as she held it up for him. His brows shot up and he froze for a moment but quickly made his way over, hopping as he tugged his boots off hastily. He lowered himself onto the bed beside her and he didn't waste any time before tugging her towards him, allowing her to snuggle up against him. She let out a sigh of content as she found her place under his arm, her cheek resting on his chest. She felt a calm feeling rush over her, the tranquillity and warmth he brought her could be compared to nothing she'd ever felt before; all she knew was that with him around, she could never imagine feeling more safe.

"Goodnight Y/N." He whispered into her hair as he planted an affectionate kiss to her head. She let out a hum before turning to look up at him, her gaze staying on him unmoving for a moment. He returned her stare, both of their eyes holding the same look of endearment as the other. Y/N seemed like she wanted to say something as her lips parted but no words left her as she became distracted by him, something she had been many times before. He leaned forward slowly, and she knew in a second what was happening as she met him in the middle, their lips meeting softly. Y/N had moved to lean closer to him, propped up on her elbow as she shifted onto her side, her hand resting on his chest. Joe's hand moved to cup her jaw as their lips moved slowly, tentatively, even though the both of them knew full well that this would happen eventually and neither were shy to think it. Y/N was the first to pull away, keeping her face close to his as she let her eyes trail over his face once more, a fond smile tugging to her lips.

"Goodnight Joe." She muttered back quietly, before pecking him one last time on the lips and then lowering herself back down, her face tucked into his neck. He could feel her smile against his skin, one that mirrored his as he stared into the darkness of the room at the ceiling. Her heart raced in her chest, much like his, and she couldn’t stop grinning until sleep took her and she fell asleep in the arms of her tough guy.

Taglist: @peggyvan (if you want to be added to the taglist for all my fics then flick me a message x)

[sirthisisa-wendys]

Just an Arrangement Part 3 pls pls pls i’ve been thinking bout it while you are away :((((((

It's Just An Arrangement (Part 3): Ran Haitani x Fem!Reader

wc: 577

tw: drinking

masterlist

masterlist

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Finale

Between sips of brandy and thoughts of mortality, Ran seems to be losing his sanity faster than Sanzu in the early days of Bonten. The clink, clink, clink of a pen hitting the desk, and the tick tick tick of the clock run together while Ran tries to rack his brain for anything he could use.

"Useless," he finally mutters to himself, tossing the pen across the desk and watching it clatter to the polished wooden floor without a care in the world.

"We don't have any word on--" The radio on his desk cuts in and out, but the voice of Kokonoi makes Ran inflate a little. Perhaps he had some news about your whereabouts. Ran's fingers grab the radio, and his thumb pushes down on the talk button.

"Say that again," he huffs. "I didn't hear you."

Precious seconds tick by before Kokonoi speaks again. "We don't have any word on the repayment of the debt by the--" Ran sets the radio down. His whole body deflates, and he sinks into the chair once more, feeling the exhaustion knocking at his bones and making him feel older than his mere thirty-five.

Thirty-five.

He almost wants to scoff at how old he is; it seems the many brushes with certain death led him here. But your brush with death... well, that became more real by the second.

Before Ran can slump into his depression once again, his phone buzzes twice in his pocket. He hesitates. The message might be from someone or something completely unrelated, and he would be getting his hopes up once again.

But what if... the nigging voice in the back of his mind sings. Ran pulls out the phone slowly, bracing himself for the inevitable disappointment. He opens his phone and looks down at the message from an unknown number with a sinking feeling of dread, the blood draining from his face as he clicks on the lone video.

"Say 'hello', princess."

"H-hi..."

There's a high-pitched ringing in Ran's ears as he watches tears stream down your beautiful, innocent face. Nothing in the world mattered more than your happiness, Ran reminded himself, trying to shake the image from his mind as he chucks the phone across the room.

But he's weak, so it only lands barely a foot away. Ran's toes curl, his fingers tremble, his eyes water, and every nerve in his body wails in outrage.

"You have five days to get me my money, Haitani," the phone echoes from the floor. But Ran can't hear it. All he can endure is the sinking feeling of someone having you, you being in trouble, and he can't do shit about it.

"Rindou, I need you."

The request is always met with undying devotion. Rindou, the ever-faithful Haitani - shows up on Ran's doorstep with a look of excitement in his eyes.

"It's been a while since I've had to beat someone with my own hands," Rindou admits, placing his gloves on as Ran hefts his baton over his shoulder. "I'm excited... Who is this guy?" Ran pulls a wad of cash out of his pocket and tosses it to his brother.

"Some punk who says I owe him money."

"The Haitanis don't owe anyone anything."

"Exactly." The car door opens, and Ran slips in, his eyes hazy from the amount of alcohol it took for him to get his version of a 'good night's rest'. "Nothing except an ass beating."

[cdd-media-share]

Ruth's Story: 'Inside, I Feel Like Screaming'

The Press-Courier - Jun. 23, 1985.

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

DISCLAIMER:

This is from 1985, so the wording might be quite odd/off/weird/questionable, and it might not reflect current-day understandings of DID.

I am simply sharing this for archival purposes, and to generally share some old, neat things related to CDDs. I'm just sharing for fun and out of interest.

THIS IS NOT AN EDUCATIONAL RESOURCE!

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

To protect her identity, "Ruth," Dr. Neal Kline's patient with multiple personality disorder, did not want to be interviewed. But because she wants to alert people that this damaging condition is directly related to child abuse, Ruth - a woman of obvious intelligence - consented to answer some questions in writing. Follow is her story, and excerpts from her eloquent reply:

By RUTH Copley News Service

". . . My childhood was strewn with hideous, repeated traumatic episodes, but I seemed to be developing normally . . . except that I was constantly accused of (or attributed with) certain actions that I could not recall. . ."

"Bizarre, weird, alien, frightening, hysterical, hurtful, sad, futile, lost. These are all words that would apply to my feelings since childhood . . .

"To. . .ask what it feels like to 'wake up' after a period of being 'gone' seems almost insulting. What do you think I feel like? I usually feel like SCREAMING. I look at the calendar, and the clothes I have used, and my checkbook, and strange photographs on my bureau . . . or I examine the bruised on my body . . . and other things . . . and I feel like SCREAMING. My life is a nightmare (which I must keep hidden from friends and associates) and I go about pretending like nothing is wrong, but inside I feel like SCREAMING."

"Thank God I am an intelligent person. I keep a tenacious hold on my sanity and I function. When I am myself, I am reasonably calm, even happy some days. The rest of the time, I don't know what happens.

"I have learned to cope with waking up in strange beds, strange cities, strange countries. I have learned to reply to questions and situations as though I knew perfectly well what people are talking about. I have learned to smile and chat with perfect strangers who seem to know me very well.

"Actually, until a couple of years ago (and I am now over 50), I refused to admit that there was anything wrong with my life. I thought I simply had a poor memory and none of my friends ever told me anything so bizarre as my displaying a different personality in their presence.

"The comments were usually to the effect that maybe I'd had a drink or two, or perhaps I was in a strange mood yesterday, or whenever. So I was blocking out the multiple personality disorder knowledge on a conscious level. Since being treated by Dr. Kline, I have come to accept my illness for what it is: the result of a sadly twisted childhood and a sensitive nature that could not cope with the horrors of that childhood.

"Looking back, I can recall only two periods when I did not have blackouts: once for four years, and once for five years. These were periods when I was involved or living with one organization or person and I am sure that I remained myself those two periods.

As for describing my various personalities, I can only go by what others tell me. As we continue with analysis, I am becoming aware of them. But generally, they are STRANGERS to me and I do not know how, or why, they think the way they do, act that way, etc. No I am not aware of them in any other form. I cannot control their comings and goings, and I do not know how to 'summon them up' when being treated.

"I am very discouraged about 'integrating' these personalities at this time. It seems as though the pattern repeats and repeats, over and over again. Just as I feel happy and adjusted to my situation, I 'black out' and wake up days, or weeks later . . . where? In Puerto Rico? In Georgia? In New York? In Germany? There is no form of control and I am dejected as to finding a control factor.

"I have no ability to work and live on a disability pension. I have short-term relationships (and many I don't know about, from the evidence). I have become very surefooted with certain neighbors who must wonder at my comings and goings, and I have an excellent doctor who accepts my calls from strange airports, etc. What hope do I have along the lines of a cure? Very little.

"The fear of facing some secret in my childhood? This is, of course, the crux of the matter. Since the very beginning of my mental problems (depressions, suicidal feelings. . . many years ago), I have always been aware that one TREMENDOUSLY BAD THING happened to me in my childhood. I have always felt that, if this could be dug out, that perhaps the MPD would simply fade away.

"That is altogether too optimistic, I am learning. We have attempted several methods of reaching back to that child's brain of mind. So far, each time we have approached anything like those early years, another personality has popped out and prevented the probing from continuing.

"Hypnosis may yet be a viable path to this memory. We are not sure, but are trying many avenues."

"The problem, obviously, is helping the child AT THE TIME TO COPE WITH THESE FEELINGS. But first, a parent has to be present, and aware, and mine were neither.

"A major point I'd like to make about MPD? First of all, that it's REAL (too many people doubt its existence). Second, the care of a child is a serious matter. Parents cannot shirk this responsibility, and if they are not willing to really work at it, they have no right to have children. Today's attitudes are even worse than they were 50 years ago. Does that mean that years from now we will have more and more cases of MPD running around the world? It would be a funny thought if it were not so sad."

[amyrafiercebladeartz]

Doodles of various AUs. In order: (warning, some may contain sensitive topics)

Consequences!Viggo: AU where, after the volcano incident, Viggo keeps his separate ways from Krogan and Johann, instead turning to... other methods for his revenge, dabbling in magic to make it hell for the Dragon Riders to defeat him. It doesn't save him from dying, but death becomes temporary. His sanity, however, also becomes temporary, as the more times he dies, less of him comes back

<3!Viggo: AU where Viggo's memory is wiped and his personality is altered. He's a performer, and very well known for his humbleness, but there's something wrong with the entire premise of his 'home', and even he knows it. (WiP Fanfic on Ao3: <3 )

Skyrim!Viggo: AU where Viggo finds himself thrown into an entirely different world after the events of Triple Cross, notably awakening on the trip to get his head chopped off. Surviving the wilds of Skyrim was not easy, but there seemed hope enough for a new start, perhaps even a life of almost-peace. Except for the fact he's tangled in a prophecy that says he's the one destined to destroy a world eating dragon. That doesn't seem to fit the idea of a peaceful retirement.

Scrapped!Viggo: Viggo finds trouble in a cave while searching for means to defeat the Dragon Riders, getting himself bitten by an unknown dragon in the process. As if that wasn't bad enough, the longer it takes to heal, the less he feels like himself...

Lifeline!Viggo: Lifeline is actually the AU for most of my personal Viggo headcanons. It's not Canon Divergent, as most of it takes place for his childhood/early empire years/other unspecified/undetailed informations and events. However I call this a separate AU(comparing to Canon) because I simply feel it doesn't fit well enough to known Canon to be just be called Headcanon. (Note: The reason I added a 'young' to the front of the AU drawing is because that's a drawing of Lifeline!Viggo at 16.)

SIA!Viggo: AU of Viggo after the events of Triple Cross where he heals on Dragon's Edge, along with the Dragon Riders. However, instead of feeling happy with this presented opportunity, he cannot help but feel the guilt of his past actions, unable to look ahead from his own darkness. (Fanfiction on Ao3: Self Inflicted Achromatic [based on the song cover byt JubyPhonic])

Also, feel free to send asks ab these guys. Hell, send asks to them, I might reply in-character with a doodle to accompany it

[taurusmoon2008]

A huge rant post please block me if you don't want to see me crying over your dash

No I don't want to gain any sympathies and ik no one's gonna cure me here anon but it's my blog so I'll post whatever I want

I am done with how my life is unfolding at this rate it won't be long before I hit a new low in life. I actually have no one legit when my own parents were embarassed to embrace a girl who's into self harm

When my own mom don't care about how I feel , when my own mom slapped me not once but I just can't it's traumatising

Being in an abusive house is not easy it's not as if they don't care for me but as they say they do all this for my own better and my future self will thank them (?)

Everyone just treats me like a puppet they take my strings and start controlling me , make me do things they want and then leave

I hate everyone like not even a single person can be added in the list of people I love

Idk ki kab tak zinda rehna hai and I am just counting my days here , I wish death upon myself like it's better than this life

My scars haunt me perhaps they always will but something in me and i always end up invoking those scars again

Ik I am not perfect but I am trying to be my parent's ideal daughter but they just

If my parents think taking away my phone , all my contacts , almost everything from me will help me cope up things

Like it'll make me perfect so may God bless their mindset

I can't even say I want to be a child again cause childhood was as traumatising as my teenage

I see people my age happy and think what's wrong with me

Perhaps something really is wrong with me

I just want to crumble up and cry , this sadness has made a home in me and now it's slowly eating me inside and out , it'll make me lose my sanity , it's like taking a bit of poison everyday in hopes that it'll not kill me but it's doing something worse than that

And what do people even think of me ? A validation seeking machine ? Bhai Mai andar se khokhli ho chuki hu like completely hollow and now I can't give you anything so if anyone excepts anything from me please don't otherwise don't blame me when you end up disappointed

Cause that's what I am~ a disappointment to all

I failed my parents, friends , family, almost everyone

I failed as a person

[raichett]

what a wicked thing to do

AU where Third Life was nothing but a dream, and none of the people in it were ever real - except Grian, the dreamer. Can also be found on AO3 here.

1. Grian wakes up. He’s not expecting to.

He’s in a hospital bed - white walls, beeping, a bit chilly - it’s unmistakeable. There’s a woman by his side: Pearl. 

That’s my sister, he thinks, numbly. He’d forgotten he had a sister. He’d forgotten what a hospital was, and most of the machines that he now recognises.

He forgot a lot. And what he remembers is tainted with blood and sand.

2. “You’ve been in a comatose state for the last eight weeks, Miss Griande,” the nurse tells him, using his deadname but since he’s not out publicly he lets it slide. It also shakes him a bit: no one there called him anything but ‘Grian’. 

“Eight weeks,” he repeats, numb. His voice is too high, too breathy, even though it’s strained with lack of use. It feels wrong. It doesn’t sound like how he thinks he should sound, how he’s used to sounding.

“There was an incident with the lighting equipment,” Pearl tells him gently. “It crashed down on the stage while you were on tour - no one died, but several were badly hurt, including you. Your agent has already hired lawyers - they’re suing, but don’t worry about any of that, it’s all in hand.”

Grian looks at her, feeling overwhelmed. I died, he thinks. Three times. 

“I’m glad you’re awake,” Pearl says, happy tears at the corners of her eyes. 

Grian, suddenly, horribly, wishes he weren’t.

3. Grian goes home with Pearl after a few days. He struggles to sleep through the night; Scar isn’t there to hold him. His bed is too empty, the place by his side too quiet, and - 

Scar’s dead. Grian killed him. But Scar wasn’t ever alive in the first place, and now it’s all tangled in Grian’s head.

“Who’s Scar?” Pearl asks him one morning as they sit at the breakfast table. Grian’s still struggling to eat, and not all of it can be put down to having been on a liquid diet for the last few weeks.

Grian freezes.

“He was...” Grian struggles to say it. How does one describe Scar? The man was larger than life, despite not owning one. (Or despite owning three, and losing all of them.) “From my dream,” he settles on. 

“From your coma?”

“... Yeah.”

4. The fans are clamouring for his attention since it was announced that he awoke from his coma. Grian can hardly look at Twitter, at the constant begging for some sign of life from Ariana’s personal account. There’s an official one, run by his team, but it’s the personal Twitter and Instagram that people are spamming. He doesn’t think he can stand the thought of opening his inbox.

No one wanted him this badly there. Except Scar, perhaps, but even Jimmy and Scott - both gone the same way as Scar, disappearing into nothingness, existing only in warped memory of fragile dreams now awoken from - hadn’t been so attached that they hung on his every word.

Finally, Grian types out, Physical therapy isn’t very fun but I’m doing well everyone! Please be patient with me xxx and posts it. On his Ariana Griande Instagram, he posts a selfie of himself in front of a window, smiling cutely and holding two fingers up in a victory sign.

Most of the fans gobble it up, but Grian, scrolling through the comments like he knows he’s not supposed to if he wants to keep his sanity, sees a few people noting that he looks thin, pale, not himself. They’re worried, and probably right to be.

I don’t feel like myself, Grian thinks. I feel like someone else.

What is the space between who you were and who you have become? When did the transformation occur? Or can you only come out the other side and say that you survived? If you did, of course. Survive, that is.

5. “I want him, I want Scar,” Grian cries into Pearl’s neck as they sit on the bed, Pearl embracing him tightly after another nightmare of the desert and the cactus ring and the cliff of Monopoly Mountain. “I want him back.”

“I’m sorry,” Pearl says, helplessly. Tears wet her pyjama top collar as she holds her brother close, his limbs still weak as he recovers from their atrophy, nowhere near ready to take to the stage again yet. “He’s not - Scar’s not here. He can’t be here. I’m sorry.”

“He was mine,” Grian chokes out. “He was mine and I killed him!”

“Grian,” Pearl says, trying to be gentle, trying to find the right words, but the right words don’t exist, “he wasn’t real. He wasn’t ever real.”

“But I loved him,” Grian whispers, broken and small. He looks up at Pearl desperately, begging his sister to try and understand. She won’t. “Pearl, please, I didn’t - it’s not - but I - I loved - ”

“Gri...”

“But I loved him...”

[cabinofimagines]

The Haunting of Camp-Halfblood, part three

For my own sanity I wish I could say this was the ending, but sadly I am writing another part for good measure. I am fighting my body as we speak wish me look.

Pairing: Poly!Solangelo x reader, Will Solace x Gn!Reader x Nico di Angelo Request: My ex went “insert anon where’s the rest? on a fic that hasn’t been updated since 2019” in the google doc Warnings: I did a little angst, as a treat. But also fluff!  Word Count: 1.6k

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-Asnyox

Will sighed impatiently. The three of you had been looking around camp for a few hours now, checking in and around cabins, but there was no sign of any ghosts. Even for Camp Half-blood, that was actually the norm most of the time. However, given that camp barely had a norm at this point, nor had demigod life, you had really hoped to find ghosts. The one time you are looking for anomalies, everything seems suspiciously normal. 

You even double checked if your spell circle around camp was still intact, which it was. Nico had gone and looked at the campers in the dining hall, all still asleep. At this point, you knew who was missing, but where could they be?As the three of you stood at the edge of the strawberry fields, you felt the hope leave your body.

“What if they did manage to leave? They have Alabaster, who could probably break my spell easily.” You looked at both your boyfriends in worry, and they both seemed helpless themselves.

“Let’s take a break, just sit for a bit?” Will suggested, “Maybe we’ll come up with a plan, or perhaps the people in the dining pavilion will wake up.” You nodded and sat down, careful not to crush any plants except grass. Nico sat down opposite from you, your knees still touching, Will doing the same to the right of you, making a small circle. You felt the pain of walking around all day in your legs.

“How are you holding up, Nico?” You asked your boyfriend, he looked down before facing you, exhausting clear on his face.

“It takes a lot getting the ghosts out-,” he sighed, “But it is not as if we have a choice. I’ll hold on until we’re done,” he promised with a doubtful smile, you grabbed his hand trying to encourage him a little.

“Remember last year with the ghost shoot? Nico and I were freaking out about it.” Will smiled softly at the memory, “You were so close, and we were just longing to bring you between us,” Nico snorted

“Hence why we did not mind you getting sick from shadow travel,” he let out a short laugh, “We got to cuddle the whole night, definitely worth the dressing up.” You let out a half laugh, squeezing Nico’s hand.

“You also offered to summon some ghosts, are you sure you didn’t summon these?” you asked him teasingly and he softly hit your arm. He gasped dramatically.

“I would never do such a thing to interrupt our Mythomagic time,” Nico huffed and Will laughed.

“Uhuh, because you were so enthusiastic about teaching us,” he stated, smiling. Nico looked to the side.

“It’s just, a lot of memories are attached to the game, y’know.” He said looking back at Will and you. You purse your lips before letting go of his hand and giving him a quick hug.

“We know, sorry.” You apologized and as you let go from the hug, Nico grabbed your hand again.

“It’s fine,” he squeezed your hand and looked at Will, “I would like to get more happy memories with the game, with the two of you,” his smile held melancholy, as his eyes seemed teary. But you understood and nodded.

“We will,” you said determinedly, “But let’s first catch the last ghost!”  

Nico might have been exhausted form the day thus far, but your determination somehow filled him with energy. He smiled, feeling lighter somehow. You stood up, he tried to follow, panic surging through him as he noticed his legs were restrained.

“Found you!” Miranda Gardiner’s voice rang out, followed by a laugh. Nico noticed that Will also could not get up, and as you tried to turn around, you fell to the ground, legs restrained by vines. A  flicker of light caught his eyes – which widened as he realized what was happening.

“Will! The crystal!” Nico yelled out, but before Will could even react, the vine shattered the crystal. He suddenly heard your scream.

“Let- GO!” You tried to wrestle yourself out of Sherman’s arms. The son of Ares had a tight grip on you, even with one arm. He quickly got the two remaining crystals out of your pocket.

“These seem important,” He grinned, shattering both crystals with his bare hand, “Oops, sorry.” Sherman laughed, as he tightened his grip on you. You tried wrestling yourself out- but it was no good.

“Stop struggling, or I will break you and your boyfriends in half, filthy demi-scum,” he whispered in your ear, successfully freezing you in place. Your heart was beating rapidly, as you tried to think of a way out- a way out for your boyfriends.

“Seems like we can finally start negotiating,” the voice of Alabaster came from behind you, “simply said, son of Hades, we require your full cooperation.” Nico glared at Alabaster- whatever the ghost could want, could not be good. Alabaster chuckled as he stepped forward, into your sight.

“You see, we want us and our siblings to be free. However, some of us got sent to the underworld by some pesky little shit. And when he couldn’t get all of us, he simply sealed the rest in those stupid crystals, keeping us there for years upon years!” You could see Alabaster’s body tense, the anger clear in his voice, “If you would be so kind to let us go, we will be sure to save you the pain of losing everyone you know,” Alabaster turned around and grabbed your chin, “Starting with this little love bird.” His eyes were dark- sucking you almost in, his fingers cold.

“So, you can terrorize innocent people?” Nico spat, trying to get Alabaster’s attention back to him. A disgruntled look came to Alabaster’s face, and he turned to Nico.

“I don’t care about other people, son of Hades,” Alabaster shrugged, “And I am surprised you still do, after everything.” Alabaster turned to Miranda, “You got them tight?” Miranda nodded, “Alright, possess this one,” Alabaster grinned widely, “Show the ghost king how we get things done.”

You felt helpless- Sherman’s grip was strong and you could feel it tightening with every breath you took. As the ghost left Miranda’s body, you felt yourself weaken more and more- cold settling in your bones, eyes lost in fear.

Will screamed out your name, trying to get out, but his legs were still entangled in the vines. If only he had a knife on him- or if his crystal was still there. He looked at the shards, out of reach and dull. If only he had never suggested taking a break.

Nico couldn’t concentrate- he wanted to, but everything was so loud around him. He heard Will’s scream – he felt the thorns on the vines puncturing his skin, he felt his heart break. There was so much pain on your face – your body was tense, and Nico still felt exhausted. How could he fix this? Why was it his fault you were in this position? He needed to do something, so why was he so fucking useless?

Will focused on the things he did have – empty hands, panic, and his boyfriend. HIS BOYFRIEND- Will focused on Nico, hoping he had a plan- he had something – the power to free you or – or-

Will noticed Nico’s hands shaking, his eyes only on you and filled to the brim with fears. There were tears pooling, and Nico was taking short breaths. He looked hopeless- he was panicking.  Will urged his body forward- only managing to touch his knees to Nico’s.

Nico’s eyes shot to Will- who looked just as desperate as he felt.

He was the ghost king- and these ghosts were not going to harm his people.

Anger surged to his body as he looked back at you- once again trying to get away from Sherman, away from the ghost coming closer and closer. You who Nico loves so dearly- you for who he would do anything. Adrenaline pumped through his veins- love pumped through his heart – as he commanded the ghosts- their spirits- to remove themselves from any bodies they possessed. 

And then Nico simply ordered them to die.

The ghosts in front of you disintegrated- something akin to screams echoing over the strawberry fields. Your vision turns to black from the sound- from the lack of air- from the ghosts that almost entered your body. Sherman let go, and you dropped to the ground, legs unable to keep you upright. You tried to get up, only to be caught under the weight of Sherman’s body. Maybe you could just lay down- maybe for a little- 

“(Y/n)! I need you here!” Will screamed, his voice pounding in your head. You were so tired, yet you pushed Sherman off. You sat up, holding your aching head in your hand. You squint your eyes as you look at your boyfriends, Will frantically trying to get the vines of his legs, and Nico passed out on the ground. You crawled your way over to them, picking up your sword along the way - had Sherman disarmed you? - and handed it to Will. 

“Don’t cut yourself,” you mumbled, as you laid on your back, passing out. 

[rxbelling-hxrald]

Important

// Ok, So I've been thinking over as to how I'm going to approach things and organise them in regards to RP stuff and I will be updating the Rules page shortly with this change. I imagine some people might not be entirely happy with them but its entirely for my own sanity.

I'm making it mandatory that new followers or people I'm unfamiliar with fill in the Interest Checker. That thing is not just for me to know who is who but it also does include the important questions as to how you'd rather approach or be approached yourself. Do I do it? Do you rather opening things up with memes? Opens? Plot? Etc etc. The idea is that way neither of us need to worry about how to get that first step going, the tracker will tell me and I'll react appropriately in future so we can hopefully start something. I know its hard at times which is why I'm more than happy to make the step for you, as long as I know your interested/wanting to interact you know? This will help towards that. I'm still not going to be making the change to mutuals only in how I interact with people. I believe in free approaches and testing the waters, sometimes you just wanna see you how write together but then lose interest if you don't mesh, that's cool. but if people want to interact and I don't know you. Interest Tracker. Asks and etc will still be more than welcome but don't expect threads and etc to start unless you've done it. So if your expecting to start something from anything sent in then get annoyed or ask me to continue stuff, I'll simply point you to the tracker.

The only exception to this rule is if I'm already aware of you, so if we've got threads going or we've chatted before, I have a rough idea on how operate and prefer to go by things, so you won't need to fill the Tracker but your still more than welcome too if there's topics or ideas that cross your mind.

Again, this is simply for my own sanity. I'm done playing the guessing game of how people want to start things but go no where. Or I recieve a follow, assuming you wanna interact but perhaps they simply prefer to watch. Now If they aren't on the tracker, then I know they're not really here to engage they just prefer to read or whatever, which is perfectly fine.

[lightlycareless]

First, it hurts— Chapter XXIX

Naoya Zen’in x Fem!Reader

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

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

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

Chapter warnings: slight mentions of emotional abuse, mentions of physical abuse. mentions of menstruation, fertility, nausea, misogyny, mentions of adultery, I guess adultery in itself, and that seems to be about it.

A/N: GUESS WHO IS BACK AGAIN!! Yes, it's me 🥺❤️ I'm finally back from my cruise, and other shenanigans that I had to deal before I went back to writing. Got to put everything in place, you know?

I got to experience something completely different, like being on a boat... and getting sick, and going to the other side of the country haha, but I liked it! However, what I liked most was getting back to my home with my cat, and you guys :> ❤️

Well, I don't have much to say after this, except.... thank you for your patience ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Without any further ado, happy reading! 🥰

Masterlist ➸ Chapter 30

Ao3 link.

If you were forced to name one positive thing that came from the elders' unrequited involvement in your situation, is that their imposed distance (as well as obnoxious arrogance) was so abnormally high, that it permitted you to do the few tasks you were assigned to as the Lady of the House without much interference. They were seemingly so above your level, they barely even gave you any mind —outside of nasty comments here and there— when indulging in the few things that maintained your sanity, at least until the day you were rescued came.

It felt… reductive to even put the words positive and elder’s in the same sentence, considering that no less than just a few days ago you were nothing but a frightened mess, locked away in your room as you continuously tortured your mind with the when and how’s of their retribution. 

Yet, it is said that time heals all wounds, and after tiring all of your energy ruminating in nothing more than your sorrow and your regrets, your body eventually scarred those painful memories, growing some kind of resistance (or perhaps ignorance, because it will always hurt), and arriving to the conclusion that you at least owed it to those who remained by your side in these difficult moments to hold your head up high and continue to fight.

After all, Mariya, Haruko, Hitomi, and Naoaki were all affected by what transpired to some degree, and they still persevered. So why couldn’t you do the same? Or at least… try?

And now that you began to slowly compose yourself, to the point where you actually had energy to get up and out of bed every morning… shame for the past emotional outbursts you’d unwittingly placed on them began to take hold of your conscience—Looking at the  bigger picture, it feels like that's all you've ever done since you arrived here, placing them in danger, while in turn, they constantly reassured you that you were not as cruel, or weak as your inner sabotaging self believed.

Truly, if it weren't for them, you don't know where you'd be. And not giving the Zen'in any more power than what they already had over you was the least you could do to honor their efforts…

…

But as expected, things were always easier said than done.

It certainly wasn't… effortless to move on, not when you still had the presence of your stranded husband lingering in the corner of your eye, and the death sentence of your father-in-law haunting you like a yokai through every step you took, but you still tried your best, the best you could anyways.

Nonetheless… if it’s worth mentioning, there was a sudden change in your surroundings that altered your perception of them for a moment, at least until you figure out if for the best or for the worst, when noticing Naoya's behavior from one day forward.

You don’t know why, and you don’t usually bother to care when it comes to him, but it happened. And quite strangely too, so… abruptly , especially when all that you remember of him for the last days were his attempts to contact you, or that's what you presumed to be —judging by his looming presence in every room you were in—since you never allowed conversation to start between the two.

Taking this into consideration, it was only natural that you’d inquire with your ladies, if they knew, within their limited reach, about anything new happening to him, just in case you needed to anticipate his reaction and act accordingly.

They looked at one another, as if searching for the answer in their eyes, before looking back at you and shaking their heads.

“No, but now that you mention it, I noticed he seemed to be rather… focused, different from the blank stare he carried everywhere he went to" Mariya noted.

“What do you think of it?” Hitomi asks “Do you think he’s up to something?”

“Oh, I hope not!” Haruko frets, face pale as she shivers “I don’t think I’ll be able to handle anything more! But… What do you think, Y/N-chan? Do you think he’s planning something?”

Undeniably so, but that is not something that you were to find out any moment soon, or through them for that matter… less when there were endless topics to choose from. 

The thing enacting his change could be his career, his title, the elders, perhaps even some paramour he’d fallen out with due to his "temporary" stay at the estate, or worse… you .

You swallow.

For the sake of your mental health, you really, really hoped that wasn't the case.

Your search for answers eventually leads you to Naoaki, whom you silently counted on to give you the closure you desperately needed, after all, he was still in somewhat of a good standing with the rest of the clan and if there was someone that would know of any new changes before the staff, it would be him.

It still surprises you that he hasn't heard of your scheduled death, planned by none other than his own father, or maybe he already knows, but always the considerate one, he decided to not bring it up to avoid hurting you, waiting for you to disclose it in your own terms, in your own time.

If that were the case, you didn’t think it was possible to admire him any more… but that will be something to focus on another time.

“I have no idea what he’s up to” Naoaki exhales, crossing his arms and looking back to you “But whatever it is, it’s never good”

You hum, agreeing with his words. Yet, there was a bit of an unsettling sentiment coming from them, undoubtedly, because they were not the ones you expected to hear from him.

“But don’t let that worry you, Y/N” he continues, as if sensing the mental gymnastics occurring inside your thoughts —or more like seeing them, since the tightness of your lips and the furrow of your brows were all too evident to him— reassuring you with a smile before taking a step closer to you, lifting his hand to tilt your head to his direction and place a soft kiss on your forehead. “It’s a beautiful day today to be focused on that, why don’t you accompany me to the training grounds? Or whatever you want, really, today is my day off”

“Oh” you murmur, a faint streak of pink painting your cheeks, a reaction coming from your still-inconclusive opinion of your relationship with him, and the giant leap forward it took a few nights ago.

Ever since that occasion, the one where you latched onto him in a desperate search of comfort, allowing him to stay in your chambers… something changed between the two.

It’s not anything that you haven’t thought of before, nothing that hasn’t been in the development after you wondered how different your life would’ve been had  he been the one to marry you, and not his dreadful brother.

And as much as it's something you enjoy, (mostly) never rejecting him when he wants to dote on you… you have to be very careful with how you proceed. 

After all, even if the winds of uncertainty seemed to have calmed down a bit, you were still in hot water, and Naoya's shift in behavior was a reminder of that: any misstep could lead to his detriment—and that is something that you do not wish for him.

Well, it seems you were the only one thinking that, for Naoaki didn’t seem to show any concern, after all, you’ve noticed how… confident he’s become when it comes to approaching you; you’d always been uneasy about it from the very beginning, now matter how many times he tried to tell you it was ok, but now that it’s become more apparent… you couldn't help but worry.

And how could you not? You already had Naoya confronting you about it in the days before everything went to hell. If he hasn't been distracted by his exam… 

The thought is enough to send shivers through your spine, and just how it crossed your mind, you discarded it.

Just like Naoaki said, It was difficult … and even then, that word would be an understatement.

Oh, if you’d only met under different circumstances…

“I would like to but… Junko-san already she’d need me for the whole day” you eventually admit, and Naoaki's face paints the expression he always uses when he wants you to “not worry about it” 

But you know him all too well to this point to understand that deep inside, he’s a bit hurt.

“I see” Naoaki answers, retracting his hand to his side and smiling “Maybe tomorrow I’ll have better luck?”

But what a terrific job he does to act as if he weren’t feeling that way.

“I’ll see what my schedule is” you chuckle, playing along. “I’ll try to see you whenever possible today, maybe we can eat something together”

“I would love that” he agrees “See you around, then?”

“See you around” you repeat, a smile on your face.

You then proceed to take a quick glance at your surroundings, just to check that the two had remained in the solitude you'd intended, before taking a step closer to him, placing your hands over his chest, carefully grasping the collar of his shirt, and pulling him down to land a place on his cheek.

To say that you’ve been wanting to do this for a while would still fall short to your emotions, however, you were not disappointed by the time it took you to finally achieve it—and judging by Naoaki's perplexed, but pleased reaction, it seems he thought the same.

At a closer approach, you could also smell his cologne, the same one he always used, regardless of the occasion. You always liked men's fragrances, but his… it felt rather soothing, basking you in an embrace which you did not want to let go…

From there, you noticed how soft his cheek was, and how it was leaning onto the warmer side, even with the cold weather, which made you assume he was flustered.

Even if it was for another reason, you still found it yourself to think of it as cute .

…

…

…

Would it be weird if you also admitted that his skin felt just right… underneath your lips?

You don’t let these thoughts distract you much from your upcoming tasks as you send him off with a quick wave, a coy smile on your lips as the faintest of redness painted your cheeks, before doing a sharp turn on your axis and heading towards the place the mother of the twins arranged to see you.

The memory of their mother is enough to pull you back to reality, tossing aside the tranquility Naoaki provided you and replacing it with chagrin.

Ever since hell broke loose, Junko has been… Well, you’d like to say that she's changed, but most likely than not, she returned to who she genuinely is, to who she was always supposed to be with you.

Where she once showed an ounce of trust and respect towards your persona, to the point where she even allowed you to carry on with your tasks without her supervision, going as far as permitting you to conduct meetings with contractors, taking decisions on behalf of the Zen’in estate without her approval… Now she only seems to scrutinize you, meticulously tear your discernment apart without giving you time to justify yourself—and way harsher than she has ever done before.

The reason for her behavior was no mystery: she was less than impressed by your antics. But even when she didn’t actively reprimand you, she was the kind of person to carry a semblance that lets you know there was something wrong, and that it was on you to figure it out.

A passive aggressive air that while it went undetected at first, for you were too focused on your own survival, wouldn’t take long before it became apparent by her own merits.

"Is this how you're going to act from now on?" The mother of two scowls as soon as you step into the gathering point—the kitchen. 

"...what do you mean, Junko-san?" You cautiously inquired. It was only the first hour of the day, you haven’t done anything outside getting ready for the day, briefly conversing with Naoaki, and making your way here.

Unless… she’d seen you with Naoaki just moments before, and now, has decided to participate in the name-calling movement the rest of her relatives were partaking in?

“I asked you to be here at 7 o’ clock in the morning. And you’re 1 minute late” Junko says, and while her path had been completely different from what you expected, alleviating you in some way for this would be the one topic she has left out of her attention —you noticed early on that she doesn't talk about Naoaki, at least directly, contrary to those who are more than willing to call you nasty names due to the nature your relationship with him. Naoya…— you knew it wouldn't be beneficial in the long run.

This was just to be the tip of the iceberg regarding the behavior Junko decided to adopt when referring to you since that day. 

Even the littlest of things, whether a simple accident or not, were accentuated before her observant dark eyes and brought to your attention in the most crudest of ways.

“It’s not enough that you disrespect your father-in-law, the head of the clan , and your husband” Junko continued on “But also the time of others?”

“I’m sorry, I thought I was still in time—” 

“Don’t apologize” She says, sharply cutting through your fretting attempt at an explanation without hesitation. A reaction that has you immediately quieting up and intently observing her. “Do better ”

You don’t say nor do much after this interaction besides following her lead into what is the customary first task of the day, having long understood that no matter what you did, no matter how you tried to justify your actions, you had become virtually irremediable before her judgment.

But even when you were stung by her indifference… you guess you should still hold some kind of gratitude towards her.

After your small quarrel with Naobito and your continued attempts to avoid Naoya erupted, Junko had made it her utmost priority to ban you from any task that involved them. 

Ever the one to please the masters in attempts of redeeming herself for committing “failures” of her own, Junko knew that an environment involving the problematic couple of the moment would do no good to anyone around, thus, did everything she could to avoid a repeat of that unfortunate scene. 

You assumed this to be a necessary action due to her responsibility towards you, but one quick glance at the fresh wounds scattered on her arms and neck, which she often attempted to hide with her sleeves or collar of her kimono , would perhaps not tell you otherwise, but rather, give you another motivation behind her behavior.

It’s not the first time you’ve seen something like this, Ogi’s unnecessary involvement and following spite towards his wife, that is, whenever you seemingly committed something “unruly for the Lady of the House”

However, perhaps because of the status that you held and the animosity you imagined Naoya had towards him whenever he spoke about his uncle , you never faced the same repercussions as she did. 

Sure, you had your own demons to fight, but they were never as… gruesome, or constant, as the one’s the mother of the twin’s carried—and all because at the end of the day, since Junko was in charge of overseeing your behavior, any negative repercussion from your actions naturally reflected on her , and subsequently, her husband.

Mai and Maki had never voiced you their opinion of this situation, or if they were even aware of it. But if you were to take into consideration the way they were able to immediately identify your silent sorrow with just taking a look at you, you could only guess they were all but unaware of what transpired between their parents.

Ogi, just like Junko, was the type of person that made no attempts to hide their discontent with you, however, because of previously stated reasons, he was far less detached from you and solely limited himself to shoot you nasty glances, scoffs, and evading you as if you were the plague itself —the biggest of his transgressions would be perhaps when he dared attack you with objectifying and degrading comments regarding your persona and family, sometimes redirecting them towards Naoya’s poor discernment— whenever you have the misfortune of crossing paths with him.

That didn’t mean he didn’t intend to do more, of course, and after noticing how sternly Junko started to treat you, you were more than convinced with the theory her husband often dumped her with things that would relieve his stress (or that he saw far beneath him, undeserving of his attention) such as taking absolute accountability for the twins, or reprimanding you—it makes you wonder how many of the nasty comments Junko has said to you are actually from her, and which ones are from her husband.

Or in the worst, but not impossible of cases… from Naobito himself.

Your father-in-law has kept quiet, distant, much to your surprise, and not in a sense that you find comforting. As you’ve thought so before, the higher up’s silence is often considered sinister for it provides the implication of something brewing up behind the scenes.

And as the days went by, and you have yet to hear anything from their side… your mind was forced to seek and answer, concluding that his calmness must’ve been from the fact that you already had the worst punishment that you could think of, your death , on its way. What was worse than dying at this point?

…

Making you suffer for it, of course, if they feel rather sadistic when it happens.

It was nothing more than rumors and assumptions that were inundating your mind at this point, all stemming from the fact that Naobito hadn’t forgotten your transgression and was simply waiting for things to act out on their own.

But maybe… if only maybe, had you been a bit more attentive to the whispers circulating the halls, you would’ve realized that Naobito had already moved on from the incident, and not because he was as cold and calculating as you portrayed him (he still is) but rather because he… genuinely already forgot about it.

Naobito was a man that harbored an uncontrolled alcoholic addiction —a s enior alcoholic, must one add— who’d gotten to the point in his life where he just stopped caring about topic outside his immediate reach, and considering that he grew up in a household of conflicting relatives and far more impactful situations, he took your behavior as nothing more than a “femal’s hormonal outburst”, an interesting one at that, considering the reputation that followed your marriage to Naoya, and moved on with his life.

After all, he did have bigger fish to fry with a certain… Gojo heir. And your punishment was already set, so why the hell would he bother wasting his time in doing more, like the elders were instigating him to, when it was only a matter of time before you either forced yourself to accept their lifestyle, or perish? He was the clan leader, for god’s sake! He could do whatever he wanted!

From there, the only person from the “elite” circle that has kept a close eye on you, was Jinichi.

But different from his crude relatives, he would approach you with the intention of checking in on you, see how you were faring, and perhaps… get a profile of your inner workings and deduce what made you act the way you did.

Your perception of him was still… confusing, baffling so to speak, even after you were slowly starting to get to know him a bit better, as well as losing that intimidating sensation he always unknowingly brought forth towards you.

The memory of the night you rejected Naoya for the nth time, running away from him before stumbling into Jinichi, vividly remained in your mind.

His words, his recounts, his version of the story —a new, unexplored side of the troubled existence of the Zen’in clan— and the alleged suffering of his brother was the only reason you hadn’t acted so dismissively towards him when he came to commend you for your bravery, as well as advise you to to not try anything of the liking again.

Although well intended, you don’t have to go beyond the conversation you had with him that fated night, as well as the whispers of his relatives, to understand that his warning, far from being intended as a caution for your well being, had been more of a remembrance of something that occurred with his estranged brother.

The mystery that surrounded Toji’s persona, exile, and the terror he imparted onto the jujutsu community after he left the clan, was one that you’d wish to unveil, but your need for survival outweighs far more than your curiosity at this particular moment... 

Besides, his bare thought seems to be a painful yet shameful one for the Zen’in, so even if you wanted to pursue this subject, you doubt you’ll get any answers from it—leading you to quickly drop the topic.

Circling back to Jinichi, even if you have yet to determine your impression of him, you still thank him for his concern. Especially when he could’ve easily adopted Ogi’s stance and treated you the same way…

In fact, there was still hesitance in your heart when you thanked him for his kind words, because all that you knew of his opinion regarding you was that you reminded him of his brother and the regret he held for not being able to have one last conversation with him before he left…

Let’s go through that again: you reminded him of a man that most, if not all, members of the Zen’in clan thought of negatively , if not horrifyingly… 

Well, there’s no use in over thinking what’s already set, after all, if there was no real damage (that you can perceive anyways) being done to you via his actions and words, you’re not going to denounce him—alliances are hard to come by in the wretched household of the Zen’in, and if you could at least preserve somewhat of a good relationship with one of the men that had more than enough power to make your life difficult, then you would accept it. For the sake of your survival and rescue.

And that’s what you did, and will continue to do as you go on with your tasks: remain amicable, and distant if necessary, to those around you, keep in your lane as you await for the next day, and the next one, and the day after that one, and so on and so forth, to arrive.

Once your early morning tasks were done and you had prepared the food of the masters as well as your own, Junko announced your second task for the day, one that you often assumed to be the most tedious and time consuming of them all, the reason why she booked you for the whole day: fixing the clothes of the sorcerers.

It had been a while since you laid hands on a needle, less focus on it for hours , since most of your responsibilities pertained to the maintenance and administration of the house, but when a slight organizational shift occurred in the missions of a particular heir , you were pulled back to the mundane, bottom of the barrel, activities of the everyday wife.

Now that you put it that way, this felt like some kind of a not-so-indirect punishment from Junko —from dealing with important, highly influential matters that solely pertain to the Lady of the House, you were now relegated to nothing more than domestic chores. Her words, not yours.

But as you stated before, you were nothing but glad that you were being kept away from anything that could possibly involve your tormentors—if anything, this new assignment couldn’t have been any better, for you were to be accompanied by none other than the most talented seamstress you’ve ever met in your life, the same one you had the fortune of calling your friend: Hitomi.

Having disclosed to Mariya how regretful you felt for unwittingly showing preference to her over Hitomi, and her sister Haruko, you’ve attempted to make it up to them in however way you could, and what better way than spending time with her, engaging in an activity she’s not only proficient in, but also, fond of?

Even if you still didn’t feel confident enough to share your intimate thoughts with her, you still wanted her to know how important she is to you—thank her for all the support she’s given you.

And not only would this task help strengthen your relationship with her, show your interest in wanting to learn something new from her (even if it was quite tedious and terrifying from her side, you’ve long learned that Hitomi was… quite the teacher) but also, brush up the sewing skills you’ve unintentionally placed on the back burner for external issues, since from one day forward, you’ve been wanting to do something nice for the twins, who recently began to complain about the cold weather, as well as something for Naoaki, who never fails to comment on how cold your hands are as soon as he holds them—so why not make their life easier?

Soon after you’re done eating breakfast and cleaning up after those you indirectly served, you’re picked up by Hitomi and taken to your favorite spot at one of the many gardens inside (your permitted section) of the Zen’in estate, somewhere in the south wing, where the flowers are slowly withering due to the changing weather, but still enjoy thanks to the beautiful koi pond in it, before getting to work.

“Are you ready, Y/N-san?” Hitomi says with a smile as she lays down a small metal box filled with needles and threads besides the mountain of clothes —the ones you assumed to be the victims, excuse me, canvases , for the occasion— she’d had one of the servants place in advance before taking a seat. “Judging by the amount of work we have, it seems like Junko-san was intentionally keeping these hidden for a while now. I heard she even went as far as taking the work from the other seamstress to put it here. If I knew any better, I think she’s intending on overworking you”

“As ready as I’ll ever be” you admit, sitting beside her and reaching over for the metallic box. Already familiar with the tools inside, you go ahead and take out the ones you deemed necessary for the taskblack thread, thread snips, and a needle. “And… you might be right. Junko-san isn’t very happy with me, I don’t think anyone is really. But… whatever— What surprises me the most is that you aren’t the only seamstress here, and I don’t know why I had the idea that, considering the size of the estate…”

Hitomi doesn’t proceed to take the box from you once you’ve set it back down to the engawa and on her side, but rather, she focuses on taking a quick glance at you, observing your unaware profile for a few seconds, before smiling.

She can’t recall the last time you were this talkative to her, or anyone for that matter, since that happened.

And while it might not be to the same extent as it was before, when things were infinitely better, Hitomi was still glad that you were slowly beginning to emotionally improve, giving the impression that you were growing more comfortable with her, enough to step a way, if only from a moment, from the confines of your mind and grant her what seems to be the beginning of a conversation—different from the unwittingly detached approach you’d given her days prior.

Your closeness to Mariya was never of her discomfort, neither for your sister. She was more worried about your reclusiveness and the fact that she couldn’t do anything to help you than those petty matters.

But now… it was different. There was an advancement, and there was nothing that made her happier than that.

“By the amount of work I sometimes had, that’s what you’d think” she moved on, sighing as she mirrored your actions by taking out her own tools “I sometimes wish that the kukuru would be a bit more cautious with their clothes, it seems like they intentionally put their clothes in harm’s way just because they can”

“Well, not to defend them… but going out on missions as frequently as they do, or just by rigorously training, you’re bound to get a scratch or two” you say, beginning to place the thread into the needle, and once that was set, awaiting Hitomi’s following indications. “My brother and sister would always take their own sewing kit just because of that”

“That’s different— they’re being conscious about it. Not like the ones here that just assume someone will always do their work, and thus, act irresponsible with their things! Just because they’re magically mended after throwing them into the dirty laundry bin doesn’t mean they can’t be careful” Hitomi groans, she could literally envision them taunting her when they place their clothes at the laundry room «Who cares! Hitomi is going to fix it anyways!» They’d say. “But whatever, we’re not here to complain about them, because if we are, I think we’re going to need more than a day for that”

You chuckle, agreeing with her. And your gesture makes Hitomi join with a chuckle of her own.

“I want you to first practice on your stitches before moving onto something a bit more difficult, like hems” Hitomi instructs as she reaches over to the pile of clothes and takes out a random pair of black pants “This one has a small rupture” she points at it and you hum “so a basic stitch will be more than enough to fix it. But I’m always here for guidance if you need some”

“I remember doing some, back in the day” you reflect, taking the garment away from Hitomi’s hands and laying it on your lap “Or attempting to do them… back when I was at school, I obviously never mastered them, but I’d rather have a badly fixed skirt than the long one I got as a uniform”

“I always liked long skirts” Hitomi adds “It makes you look regal, wouldn’t you agree?”

“I guess so, but it all depends on the context. I don’t mind long skirts if it’s for anything else but for physical activity—I don’t know how my sister does it… But that wasn’t the issue! The problem here was that it was completely different from what I requested. Picture this, I asked for my skirt to be just above the knee, but instead, I got one that ended 5 fingers below it!”

Hitomi scoffs “That’s a mistake not even I can figure where it came from; I’d like to say it was the usual extra piece they add to unite fabrics and make the hems, but we’re talking about almost 6 inches of a mistake! Whoever made your uniform must’ve been a beginner”

“I guess so” the two laugh, before you stab the needle into the black garment and begin to work. Hitomi doing the same with another piece of clothing. “That skirt would only hinder my work if I left it like that… and would’ve continued to do so, if I was still a sorcerer”

Upon noticing the subtle shift in your tone at the remembrance of something that is no longer meant to be, Hitomi decides to act quickly and push through the subject in hopes of preventing sadness from laying its roots in your heart.

“I can imagine. Kind of. I’ve only seen the sorcerers here and most of them wear pants, although we should consider most of them to be men, so…”

“The uniform at school is way different than what’s used here. The sorcerers here use far more traditional garments than the rest do, and the school offers a much more modern “default” alternative—However, students are permitted to file in a request for a customization” you explain, and Hitomi, whom was elated to see that you’d naturally carried on with the conversation, was also now… briefly interested to know more about your life as a sorcerer.

You don’t talk much about it, or more likely than not, you had a rather extensive background that the short conversations you’d had with her up to this point hadn’t been enough to uncover them all! Which only makes it more exciting.

Thus, prompted by her curiosity, she continues:

“If you don’t mind me asking, how was your uniform?”

“Oh, well” you blink, and something likened to excitement fills your chest.

Remembering this part of your life and education was always exciting for you because it was the beginning of something long-awaited! Even if it was all in the past…

Well, some were right in saying that recounting memories was the same as reliving them, and wouldn’t it be nice to share those nice sentiments with a friend? Undoubtedly.

So, you oblige. 

“Since I wanted to do something different from my siblings and friends, cooler in a way, and that it somehow matched with my technique, I decided to take inspiration from one of the series I was—”

“Ah, there you are!” An exasperated voice booms through the stillness of the air as it breaks your sentence midway. The rudeness of the noise forced the women to perplexedly look at each other, wondering if this had been nothing more than a fabrication of their imagination—the assumption quickly debunked by the sound of rushed footsteps that followed soon after, which made their heads swirl into its general direction, intending to identify who had been the one that called them so abruptly, if they were even the person of interest. “I was looking everywhere for you!” the voice called yet again, and when the caller stepped into their sight, you were the first to react.

“Nao…hiko?” You whispered. To say that you were somewhat startled by his appearance would be an understatement, however, your companion did not seem to share that same sentiment, evident by the not so subtle groan that escaped her lips, followed by a quick eye roll.

The culprit behind the shout had been none other than Naoaki’s brother, the second oldest, and the one that wasn’t known for being particularly tactful with others, although that description fit another member of the Zen’in siblings…

As he continues to walk over to your direction, you glance over at Hitomi, giving her another look that asks her “What is going on?” hoping that perhaps she knew of some arrangement Junko had set forth without informing you first hand—although the garment in his hands already offered some hints.

But before either are even able to externalize their concerns, he interrupts once more.

“I’m talking to you , seamstress” Naohiko’s words were… condescending , to say the least.

Would you say unexpected? No, considering how he treats you, or his siblings whenever around, always carrying this aura as if everything were beneath him…

However, what you allow towards your persona is contrastingly different from what you permitted onto others, and with such thought is why you decide to put him in his place.

“She has a name, you know” you frown “ Hitomi ”

“Yeah, Hitomi, right. Whatever" Naohiko groans as he shrugs, not even bothering to glance at your direction as he responds, solely looking at her “Heard you were fixing clothes again, so, I want you to fix mine”

“I’m busy." Hitomi says, reacting with the same indifference he’s throwing at the two by keeping her eyes on the garments before her, and coincidentally, you.  “You can ask the other seamstress to help you”

“Ugh, you think I would be here if I liked her job? Or if she knew how to do it?” He whines, shaking the garment before her to grab her attention and demonstrate his urgency. “You’re the only one that knows how to fix my clothes just how I like it, so yeah, I want you to do it”

Hitama inhales, exhales, turns lifts her gaze to his and declares:

“Not with that tone I’m not”

And then, everything goes silent.

You were already uneasy when Naohiko decided to approach the two out of the nowhere, and in the same manner that he’s always used to refer others, but to hear Hitomi actually retaliate was just something that you—well, you didn’t know how to take outside of getting in each other’s nerves.

Hitomi was the no-nonsense kind of person in the group, reserved and cool tempered; the voice of reason between her and her sister…

But Naohiko? Oh, he was as hot-headed as they come. Rude, not easy to get along with, can’t get a joke even if his life depended on it… and adding Hitomi’s reaction… It was only a matter of time before either one of them jumped the other.

You know it won’t be Hitomi, so all that remains is to anticipate Naohiko to be the one to take the first step.

Thus, you begin to slowly preparing yourself to stand up for her by setting your items on the side, slowly inching closer to her as you discreetly push yourself up from the wooden floor, completely expecting him to lose he’s cool and screech and demand that she do what he orders , and how dare she question his authority…

But what transpired after was something that you’d never think in a million years would happen, and such was the shock for the following events, that you were unable to do anything else but fall back into your seat and speechlessly watch everything unfold.

“Can you fix my pants, please ?” he murmurs, head to the side as his eyes are fixated everywhere but on the woman he’s requesting the service, as if he was embarrassed to show his desperation for such necessity, or perhaps… something more?

“My pleasure” Hitomi says, accepting her new assignment by grabbing the garments from his hand and placing them alongside the rest.

She then picks up from where she left off with her previous engagement, grabbing the needle and starting to thread in the fabric… or that's what she intended to do before noticing Naohiko's looming presence just over her shoulder, as if he were trying to make sure she was indeed planning on doing what he requested, instead of retreating back to whatever place he was before.

Never one to enjoy having an audience while working, at least not one that she hadn't approved of, Hitomi is prompted to place her tools back on her lap as she sighs, before turning around to face him once more.

“I’ll let you know when they’re done, Naohiko-sama , you don’t need to stand there" « like an idiot » she wished to add, but she knows she’s threading dangerously close.

“...Uh, yeah, sure” he says with a frown, clenching his hand before turning around and leaving their presence. He didn’t even bother to acknowledge you on his way in, or out, which was surprising since whenever you were present it always seemed he had something to say to you—but this change didn’t matter to you, not when you had a far more shocking interaction to analyze.

“What was that?” you ask once Naohiko is out of sight and earshot.

“What?” she asks and you huff, because there’s no way she doesn’t know what you’re talking about.

“I mean—he's always so… unruly, I was worried that he was going to snap at you!" you continue on "but… he didn't. And it looked like you weren't even worried about it either! Is there something going on between the two that I don't know of?”

“What?! No!” she twisted her face out of disgust, shaking her head as if you'd just told her the most gruesome, impossible scenario of them all “He’s nothing more than a pushover, someone had to tell him how to ask for things eventually! I don’t care if he’s one of the masters, he’s not going to treat me that way”

“Are you sure there’s nothing else going on?” you egg on, a smile on your face as you inch closer to her, elbowing her arm ever so slightly. "Cause I think I saw something in his face when he asked you nicely to fix his pants"

"Y/N-san… I swear, you're just like my sister…" Hitomi frowns, and at the implication, you gasp.

"Ah, so there is something!" You conclude and she just scoffs.

“No! Of course not! But… Well, I guess if I had to put it into words, he's the only one I tolerate of the masters because he's the only one who appreciates my work, instead of treating it like it was my duty” Hitomi eventually relents “Even if it is my job, who doesn't like to be recognized? And by one of the masters of the— what's with that face? " She asks when she finally notices the grin, which only grew bigger and bigger as she went on, in your mischievous face.

"Oh, nothing" you shrug, turning around to the pending work on your lap "Just thinking, that's all"

"Don't get the wrong idea, Y/N-san" she says as she mirrors you, picking up her thread to continue working "I'm just recognizing his appreciation for my work. But I don’t want to talk about that anymore, why don’t you tell me about your uniform?"

While Hitomi was more than comfortable in admitting that there really was nothing between the two outside of a professional relationship, she's not going to say that she doesn't enjoy how he always seeks her simply because, in his own words "there's no one else that can do what you do"

That's… certainly one way to get to the heart of a professional.

But if there's something that she likes the most above all, it’s being able to work without interruptions.

Unfortunately, that's something that’s not bound to happen that day.

“Hitomi!” Another voice calls, less intruding than Naohiko’s, softer even, but and with a sense of urgency that makes both women look into its direction: one out of curiosity, and the other with impatience “Hitomi! Where are you?!”

“Oh, Jesus, what is it now?!” Hitomi breathes exasperatedly as the notion of another person coming to bother her simply because she’s back in the game takes hold of her mind. Yes, she said she likes being appreciated, but that doesn’t mean she enjoys being dumped with all of their work—Junko was already doing that, what else do they want from her?

Too angered by being interrupted, she doesn't hold her tongue when voicing her frustration “Can’t you see I’m trying to work her—oh, Haruko! ” 

At the recognizable figure of her sister turning just around the corner, Hitomi is quick to calm down her animosity and transform it into interest before ending in concern when her eyes capture the redness of her cheeks and the out-of-place strands of hair sticking to her her face: symbols that she had been doing nothing but running towards their direction for the past few minutes, as well as remembering the crucial tone of her voice in which she was calling to her just a few seconds ago.

Everything had been somewhat calm since the day began, and neither Junko, Mariya, her , or even you had been informed of anything important happening… So, what made her like that?

“I came rushing here as soon as possible!” Haruko piped as soon as she catches up to you, breathing heavily as she crouches forward to rest her hands on her knees in hopes to rest for a moment and regain her breath.

“Why are you in a rush, Haruko?” you ask as you discard all of your items to the side, pushing yourself up from the floor and going to her side “Sit down, you need to rest”

But instead of accepting your offer, she gently rejects you, shaking her head as she lifts her glance to you, before shifting to her sister, and darting back to you. 

It’s almost as if she were pleading to the two to not have her say what burdens her mind, but knowing there are matters she has little to nothing control over, she painfully forces herself to continue. "I have—" she gasps, throat constrained as she swallows, her heartbeat echoing in her ears "I —I have an announcement… no, a dreadful request for you, Y/N-san!!”

Her words hollow in your head as you unwittingly take a step back from her, darting a quick glance towards Hitomi, attempting to corroborate (or perhaps seek comfort?) her sister’s words before looking back at Haruko once more.

“What is it?” you caution, voice low as a whisper, as all kinds of dreadful scenarios begin to flash through your mind, agitatedly hoping that none of them were happening. “Is… is everything ok? Is Mariya ok? What—what about the twins?!”

“They’re fine, they’re ok but… I—I don’t think you will” Haruko frets and your heart drops to your stomach. Hitomi attempts to reprimand her for her poor choice of words as soon as she sees your face pale, but your imperativeness wins her to it.

“What … Do you mean, Haruko?” your murmur and Haruko presses her brows together, dreading that she has to be the one to relay this distressing thought, one that is only destined to interrupt the few moments of peace you’ve only started to regain.

Just how things are always meant to be while in the claws of the Zen’in clan.

“...Na—Naoya’s staff informed me that—that he wants to—to take you to the—the doctor” she stammers in between breaths, yet to regain her stability, but with an announcement such as this that task will fade into the background “And that… you—you should carefully consider your situation since your—since your body body is already in a vulnerable position”

“ What ?” you whisper, and you feel as if you’d been dragged to a pit of darkness “When—when did he say this? How long has he… planned for this?”

“Just right now, I think… They—They told me they couldn’t find Mariya so they asked me to—to let you know instead” she exhales, and then, she finally sits down.

And in a matter of seconds, as your mind runs a thousand miles per second trying to find an answer to his unforeseen predicament, something inside your mind clicks that makes his sudden disappearance all too evident. 

Of all the things that you feared, that you believed him to be doing behind the scenes, you were the unlucky winner of his attention.

Adding to the fact he used a servant to inform you… it adds a layer of seriousness to his already mysterious intentions—and it reminded you of that awful night he called you to his chambers soon after returning from his exams.

However, your feelings upon hearing his message weren’t ones of fear or uncertainty—no, it was pure anger .

“Is that—is that what he told you now?!” you hiss, clenching your fingers against your palms to the point where red crescent moons imprint on your skin “Is this—is this his way to coerce me into listening to him?!”

Haruko’s lips tremble at the revelation, with Hitomi following your lead by portraying a scowl of her own as she joins her sister's side.

“He’s growing desperate” you add “He thinks that by doing that, by threatening me with my own health I’ll look at him?! He’ll have to do better than that !”

“Ohh, Y/N-chan please don’t provoke him…” Haruko frets, teary eyes as she attempts to soothe you by placing her hands over your arms  “He’s scary enough as it is… I can only imagine what he can do if he puts his mind into it”

You wish to say that you were all but a victim to this sentence, but this was not time to contemplate on things of the past, because all that you need to do is act quickly if you’re to avoid this situation before it worsens.

“...Thank you for letting me know, Haruko” you say as you glance over to Hitomi, who with nothing more but a nod, understood what was the next step to take and started picking up after the sewing kit “We need to talk to Mariya”

“She was at the east wing last time I checked, I can go get her for you” Haruko informs “Do you want to meet her here?”

“No, Tell her to meet me at my room” you respond, starting to gather the clothes with intentions of moving them with you “I should’ve known something was going on with Naoya the moment he stopped pestering me—how foolish was I to not anticipate that?!”

“Don’t berate yourself for something you had no control over” Hitomi says as she gestures to Haruko to help you with the garments, which her sister obliged almost immediately. “But we’ve been careful up to this point, and we cannot budge simply because he’s desperate for some attention. We’ve gone long enough without him, and we can continue that way, we just have to plan accordingly”

“But… but what if he decides to take you by force?” Haruko wonders and you momentarily stop, pressing your lips together as the selection of her wording makes something inside you twinge in pain.

You won’t say that her proposed situation isn’t something you hadn’t considered in the short time you have had to live with this new, unwanted situation. With Naoya, there’s only bad to worse outcomes, however, just because that’s all you’re ever going to get from him, it doesn’t mean you’re not going to do anything to prevent them.

And just as you were doing up to this moment, that’s what you’ll continue to do—starting by reuniting with the best person you knew you could rely on for these situations and come up with something to put an end to this ridiculous charade.

“Oh, he was planning what now ?” Mariya says as soon as Haruko finished relaying the request Naoya sent in through his servants, with the same skepticism you expected her to have. “He’s must be growing desperate ”

“That’s what I was thinking” you reiterare as your ladies give one last scan to the hallway, checking no one was nearby to hear their plotting, before stepping back into your room, closing and locking the door behind them. “He thinks I’m just going to… accept his conditions because he’s threatening me with something he knows is sensitive to me, and just go with him?”

“Hah! Now that is something you won’t do” Mariya scoffs, crossing her arms “I’ll make sure of it”

“But how can we convince him to not take Y/N-san to the doctor?” Haruko mumbles, having taken a bite of one of the many snacks she managed to sneak out of the kitchen on her way to you—the tool she commonly uses to control her anxiety— before offering some to her sister, Mariya, and you; with only you accepting them “There’s not a single moment where he isn’t threatening Y/N-san, why can’t he just leave her alone!”

“Because the men here are incessant when it comes to tormenting others” Mariya responds, stemming from her own experience. “But I'll be damned if I allow this to happen—Nobody knows about her condition more than us” 

«And maybe Naoaki…» She ponders, reflecting back on the week he consistently sought you out, not a day passed without him visiting your room… « How did Naoya get this idea in the first place?»  

“So all that we have to do is say that she’s greatly improved and that there’s no reason for her to go”

“Will they be convinced just by our word?” Hitomi rightfully asks “Let’s not forget we’re essentially banned from being considered as part of the staff”

“They have to” your prime lady-in-waiting reinforces “Who else is Naoya-sama going to ask? That friend of his, Ranta? His staff? The only thing we’ve ever told others was that you had your period—and that’s only because they were insistent. And never to the full extent of it because it’s not their business! The only ones that would know about it in greater detail would have to be his father, but he’s never been one to involve himself…” Mariya stops at the somber notion of your death sentence.  That had been the only exception Naobito ever thought necessary to step in, and what a painful, shocking way to do so…. “So we have an advantage”

“... But—but what if it doesn’t work?” Haruko shudders mid chew and Mariya frowns.

“It’s a risk we have to take.” She reassures her, placing her hand on her shoulder “And if he wants to force her then she’ll have to go through me! We can probably hide her in one of the many rooms here, the Zen’in are too proud to even acknowledge they don’t know the complete layout of their estate, I’m sure there are even rooms they don’t even account for…”

“Then, when will the right time be to start?” Hitomi asks.

“Now—I’ll act as if Haruko was never informed—after all, if they wanted to state something official , then it must pass through me. I’m still surprised Meiko still respects that aspect from me”

Her nonchalant statement makes your heart clench, and the seed of regret you’ve tried your hardest to keep at bay, begins to settle its roots once again.

Mariya had given you a quick run through of why they were placed in that predicament in the first place, hoping to ease your confusion as well as distract you from your own struggles, but far from offering  reassurance, it just made you feel more responsible for their well being, as well as devaluing your self worth.

You were their mistress—the one they were responsible for taking care of, who in turn, would provide them a good life for their service.

But it seems that all you’ve ever done since arriving at the estate is to be nothing more than a nuisance to them— and to think you were rude to Mariya at the beginning, for a stupid misunderstanding, only makes matters worse.

That's all in the past, however, and those thoughts don’t distract you from your intentions of venerating their care towards you one day, hopefully… when Hinata saves you from this hellish place.

For now, all you have to do is focus on going through with their plan: Feign ignorance to the point where they have to be approached yet again by Naoya’s staff, and then, if insistent enough, counter them with the notion that they deemed his suggestions unnecessary, sealing it with the fact that your health was actually improving.

It's a heavy compromise that requires everyone to play their parts accurately… you just hope he falls for it.

Yet, as much as you trusted your staff to do what was necessary as well as plan something with nothing but your wellbeing in mind, you still felt as if something were missing… as if there was a point of view you needed to ensure that everything was going accordingly.

Someone… on the inside, so to speak. Someone that could give you a better look of what perhaps the heir's intentions are and offer a much more efficient way to go around his request, and maybe comfort you too…

That missing piece refers to Naoaki, of course, the one person in your entourage you had yet to tell what had transpired moments earlier, and the one you approached as soon as your duties were done.

"Hey, Y/N” He says with a smile as soon as he sees you rapidly approach him. His mind believes it to be you wanting to be with him, making his heart soar at the premise, however, he’d be pulled back to reality when you voiced the following words with a gravity that has him bewildered immediately after.

"Naoaki, we have to talk now!" you say, and he blinks.

"Oh, sure, um… just let me change into something more comfortable and I'll join you—your room or…?"

"My room" and with that, he doesn’t need to inquire any further to understand he cannot afford to waste time. Thus, after he goes to his room to change out of the clothes he’d trained with, he goes straight to your chambers—what he was planning on doing anyways at the end of the day—and steps inside.

Judging by the imperativeness of your tone, Naoaki somewhat expected you to be accompanied by your ladies, yet surprisingly, the first thing that he notices outside of the anxious look on your face is the solitude in which you seem to wrap yourself with.

It’s uncommon for both things to coexist, you were never to suffer on your own, which only makes him feel even more uncertain of what’s to come, but undeniably sure that he needs to be there for you. 

And once he’s completely sure that their absence wasn’t to be filled with any unrequited visitors lingering outside your room, he steps towards the futon, where you’d been seemingly impatiently waiting for him, and takes a seat just on the spot besides you.

"What happened? Are you hurt?" Even when he desires to approach the subject in the most sensible way possible, he can’t help his mouth from muttering the first thing that crosses his mind. After all, a lifetime of abuse is bound to warp his perception, expecting nothing more than the negative out of his family…

"I'm fine, nothing… has happened, yet" you murmur, and as if second nature, you lean towards his arm, resting your head on your shoulder.

" Yet? " Naoaki frowns, he doesn't like the sound of that, and what usually comes after—at all. "What's going on, Y/N?"

You exhale, mentally preparing yourself to plunge into what is, yet again, another charade from his younger brother—your husband .

"..Today, I was informed by one of my ladies that… he plans on taking me to the doctor" you stated "And although he might not said it explicitly, something tells me he’s planning on forcing me to go if I don’t agree”

It was just a few words, perhaps lesser than what actually transpired, but for Naoaki it was more than sufficient to understand the gravity of the current circumstances, and the infinite list of undesirable circumstances that could unfold if wrong decisions were made.

"When did this happen?"

"...Just short of starting my second task" you answered. It was so early in the morning, it barely gave you any time to breathe… Poor Haruko.

It surprises you, however, that it wasn’t the first thing that greeted you that day considering how things often went down, almost… as if he were hesitant to proceed, by whatever reason.

And assuming by the concerned look on Naoaki’s face, he’s to be thinking the same… which is what prompts you to continue on.

"But Mariya and I already came up with a plan. We’re quite confident it might work, but I just wanted your input, see if there’s anything we’re missing”

"What's the plan?" Naoaki asks, inching closer to you, letting you know you had all of his attention—if it weren’t already obvious by his hand resting on yours.

"Because the announcement was done through his staff to Haruko, Mariya thought we could go down the route of disregarding it because it was never given to her. After all, all official statements have to go through her if they’re to be considered by me”

“And then?” Naoaki tilts his head, he might not say it, but he’s starting to see some kind of… flaw behind this plan—in other words, he’s not convinced yet . But he doesn’t want to say anything until he hears the rest. “What if he insists?”

“Then she’ll state it’s not necessary, because my health is gradually improving—even if that’s… a lie to some extent, they have no one else to corroborate this kind of information, and since the status of my health has never been completely disclosed, they’re going to have to trust them”

"And what if that doesn't work either?"

His questions seem to irritate you, but that seems redundant when you come to understand that it’s his attempt to check for any overlooked details—after all, you did approach him requesting a different point of view…

"... I was hoping you'd help me" you murmur "We think that hiding me away in some unacknowledged room would work and…” you stop to glance up to his face, and there… you suddenly feel silly for going as far as plotting all of this, because at the end of the day, could you ever be free of Naoya’s grasp? Not until your sister comes along. “I already know what you’re going to say" you look away, ashamed. “It’s not going to work, is it?”

Naoaki stares at you for a few seconds, silent as he can be, as he dives into deep thought. It’s not an unusual action from him, often doing so to prepare the right answer he thinks might help you with whatever turmoil you found yourself in.

And while you always liked his caution, it wasn’t what you needed in this particular moment, and far from offering the reassurance it always did, it just brought along more uneasiness.

"Speak to me, Naoaki" you urge, clenching his hand "What… what do you think I should do?”

He sighs. And just by that gesture, you already know you’re not going to like it.

"I think you should go"

And you were right.

" What? " You paled, and Naoaki couldn’t do anything else but laugh nervously, scratching the back of his neck as a gesture of comfort to himself—this is exactly what he didn’t want, but at the same time… what was he expecting by saying that? “Why?”

"Out of context, yes, it sounds awful" he interjects before you could say anything more, or get angrier by that matter. "But first let me explain before you make a conclusion"

You frown, eyes darting towards an empty spot on the covers for a brief second, before going back to Naoaki and gesturing to him to continue. If you’d had a coin for every time he’d said something you deemed controversial, you’d have 2—which isn't much… but you’re astounded that it already happened twice.

Sensing that conflict, Naoaki ensues.

"The only reason I say this is not because the idea of you being with my brother, alone , thrills me, but rather, because…” he pauses, holding his breath before turning to you, eyes softening as he grabs your hands. “You don't know how terrifying it was to see you sick—I didn't know what was going on when it happened, you just suddenly started looking ill , and then, you disappeared. For a week . You say it was just your monthly visit, something that all women go through, and I can admit this isn’t my field to comment on but… I don’t think that’s normal. Less if it’s so painful to the point you can’t even get out of bed”

You look away.

Seeing it that way… you could understand where he was coming from.

But it still wasn’t convincing for you to accept Naoya’s “suggestion”...

"You were kept away from the rest of the world, and from what little you told me, I understood this was less painful than the last, but still bad” Naoaki pressed his lips together, caressing your knuckles with his thumb “Ah, I know this is probably not what you wanted to hear, but if there was a way to help you, to get a bit better… I would want you to take it"

"Even… if it's from Naoya?" you murmur, and he nods.

"I would've taken you if I could, you know that, Y/N." he reiterates, clasping your hand. 

He notices the slightest restraint coming from you when it comes to accepting his gesture, a reaction that has him sinking deeper into his guilt, yet, he doesn't backtrack, not… until you’ve heard what’s on his mind.

“But if I do I'll only be placing you in danger, the estate might even come to think I'm kidnapping you. And I don't want to expose you any more than you already are"

"And you think this won't compromise me? Going out with Naoya?” you interject “Did you forget what happened the last time I went out—" and then, suddenly stop. A stillness that has Naoaki furrowing his brow in concern.

You haven't told him of your death sentence, the reason why you went to the doctor in the first place…

"What happened?" He asks and you shake the horrible memories of that day from your head.

"It’s—nothing, we just got into an argument, nothing new." you whisper "But I don't want that, not again . I don't think I can take it anymore—"

"... I know" he murmurs, placing his head over your crown and kissing it. You relax against him. "I know. I can only imagine how difficult this must be for you. But… Please understand that your health is important, and that you shouldn’t be suffering for it— Don't let him take this away from you too"

If there was one thing that you could always count on Naoaki for, outside of his comfort, was his honesty..

As much as it hurts you to say… he was right . There was an unspoken concern from your side when it came to the mystery of your status; it had been so long since you had a professional check you up, were you even healed from those… wounds ? Or at least in a better condition? 

Your body was already in a fragile state hormonally, way before Naoya’s… defilement , and if you don't treat it the repercussions might be permanent—something you dread to even think of.

… All evidence was pointing into that direction. It’s so obvious that you should’ve taken this situation with a cold mind, not guided by your fear…

Thus, with much dejection, you accept that Naoaki's concerns were in the right place and effectively conclude that going to the doctor, instead of evading the subject, was the right course of action.

After your conversation with him is done, you immediately go back to your ladies’ room to relay to them your new decision, which was received with both frustration and annoyance (just as you expected) from them through various reasons: first, Naoaki’s persuasion—Hitomi being the main carrier of this sentiment, Haruko the immediate second. They felt as if he’d undone all that they carefully planned, a rightful sentiment to have given the circumstances.

And secondly, for his involvement. Here is where Mariya took the stage. 

She was beyond angry to hear that he’d essentially convinced you to change your mind, and to say that she did not like him was nothing new, but her emotions, however, didn’t solely pertain to this fact. They extended over to a circumstance which she would never admit out loud, and that is… she actually found herself agreeing with him, understanding what he meant.

Yes, him , of all people! Mariya couldn’t believe it! Did she hit her head without even noticing?!

But the recollection of your first period, your fourteen days of bleeding, and then your second one, where your case of nausea had been so frightening, that you couldn’t remain at your bed without a bucket on your side —and that’s without even counting your lack of appetite on both of them, as well as your constant pain and runs to the bathroom…— It was all concerning indeed.

Mariya did what she could with what she had and what she had to comply to, but she won’t deny that there were more moments where she wished she carried the authority to call for a doctor and put a direct end to your pains—it's common for a woman to go through these trials, but it should not disrupt your life to this extent!

It’s why she doesn’t have much more to say or contemplate once you’ve made your decision.

Why Mariya goes ahead to summon Naoya’s staff first thing in the morning and inform you that you are to accept his request. From there, all that was left to do was schedule a day for your departure, and prepare you accordingly for it.

Your prime lady-in-waiting could only imagine the wicked face the heir must’ve put upon hearing your decision.

And while she was right in some department, the one that considered Naoya to be elated to be with you once again, it wasn’t as devilish as she envisioned.

Naoya was more relieved than anything—for it was the first step of Ranta’s plan being set in motion.

Such was his excitement that as soon as he received news of your approval he ran towards the phone to schedule an appointment with the doctor, the same one as before, for the day after.

It was a rare opportunity that came after days of nothing but incertitude, and he was to be a fool if he didn’t make the best of it.

It was thrilling to think that he was going to be with you again, away from the unpleasant commentary of his family, your noisy staff—but most importantly, away from the bothersome presence of his brother.

He was finally going to be with you , and just you , how it always should’ve been.

Naoya almost feels regretful for having doubted Ranta at the very beginning, because after everything was said and done, he was right to assume that you’d agree to look past your emotional differences and form a truce with the purpose of tending your health, your worth , as his father would say— Your husband didn’t see it that way, of course, just one of the many things he saw differently from Naobito… although he was in agreement with the consternation both had when hearing of your condition, and made through your own volition, no less…

Well, that’s one (of the many) obstacles he hopes will iron out once the second part of Ranta’s plan comes into fruition.

«Once you take her to the doctor, and it’s determined that her health is in good condition, you can relay this to your father and you’ll see how everything will start to change! You have to fight bad news with good news, Naoya, you just… uh, gotta be persistent»

He’s never been one to care for the approval of his father, less when the elders had already set him to be the heir from a very young age, the highest recognition there is to get in the Zen’in clan, but if it’s for the sake of getting out of this dark pit of his despairs, and maybe, start anew with you… then he’ll do as he needs.

But as expected of Naoya’s thoughts, deprived of any sense of rationale and care for anyone outside himself, his mind began to thread him into another realm of delusional possibilities, away from your health, his father’s approval, and back to you… one that somehow makes him believe that the reason behind your acceptance, far from wanting to know where your condition stood (although by your staff’s fretting words, he can imagine it stands high up in the list of your priorities) is because… you wanted to see him .

Because why else would you suddenly agree to go out with him, after going to great lengths in imposing distance between the two, if that wasn’t the case?

It’s almost as if his desperation blinded him from the fact that he had seen his brother leave your room just nights ago—although this could also be an effect of Ranta’s persuasive words reminding him to not give up, at least until he’s wasted all resources, since there’s no stated actions between the two… yet.

Oh, but Naoya seems to be fated to never learn, and he’s going to remember such a thing when the day of your outing comes at dawn, first thing in the morning—no, earlier than that, you were cited to be there far earlier than the last time you went to the doctor by some strange reason…— as he makes way towards the entrance, where you and your ladies are already waiting for him… alongside a few extra members of the staff which desired to see the newest episode in the drama between the heir and his wife.

Naoya urge to demand their absence was great, but the image of Ranta in the corner of his eye sways him to stop and control himself—the day is just beginning, thus doing anything irrational so early in his plan will ruin any chances of “reconciliation”

Outside of that, he couldn’t keep his eyes off you: it had been so long since he’d last seen you, overall, and it had been far longer since he’d seen you wear an attire that didn’t relate to those of a domestic employee. 

For the occasion, your ladies dressed you up in a beautiful purple and blue kimono accompanied by a white obi that only highlighted the color combination—Naoya judges by the slight bulkiness he was able to perceive from your figure that you were appropriately warmed up for the day ahead, at least he doesn’t have to worry about that— from there, the second thing that caught his eye were the hair clips decorating your hair, —which was let down for the occasion, away from the tightness it seemed to be imbued in whenever you had to work around the house— ones that he vaguely recognize as one of the many wedding gifts you received at the reception, presumably from his family: purple butterfly clips of a similar shade of your kimono , giving you the regal look befitting of the wife of the heir.

And from there, your face. Regardless of the makeup that you donned, kept to the minimal and only to highlight your features, his attention was set somewhere else.

It had been… so long since he was this close to you, that he almost felt he had forgotten what your face looked like. 

No—of course not. He could never forget what the face of his beloved wife looked like, instead, his feeling seemed to be more of… having forgotten what your calming presence felt like.

You looked absolutely beautiful. But in all honesty, he can't recall a day where you weren't—for all things accounted, he guesses he shouldn’t be surprised as to why others naturally gravitated towards you, seeing you as a work of art worthy of admiration.

However, it didn’t mean he would be all but appreciative of the jealousy that came along with it, especially when it pertained to his oldest brother, who had done nothing more than intrude in the moments that were reserved for husband and wife.

His chest hurts just thinking about the possibility of you sharing that title with someone else, but his mind pushes it aside as he’s quick to reassure himself with Ranta’s words, yet again: This was only the beginning of the day, of the mission per se, and he’s never been one to give up before his opponents.

But as Naoya sunk deeper into his delusion, convincing himself of an ulterior motive behind your actions, the only thing you could worry about is answering the endless questions about your condition.

Did you still have those… wounds inside you? Will your period become worse over time? Was there perhaps any medication that you could take to hopefully quiet down your pains?

You doubt the doctor would be kind enough to help you that way, considering his comments and past behavior, but you've already lost so much as to not ask.

And last, but not least… Was there any way to know where you stood in the timeline of your fertility? The man had previously stated that the effects of the pills you were taking to control your cramps could take from weeks to months to disappear, the only reason you were on death row, as well as allowing you to live as long as you have, away from Naoya.

But if the doctor somehow managed to declare that you were ready to have a child… you could only shudder at the implications.

As it shall be given unto you, so shall it be taken away—you just hope that the gods find enough kindness in themselves to offer you the briefest of mercies… 

“Are you sure you want to go?” Mariya asks one last time, just to be sure, as she begins to walk you closer to your husband. “You still have time to back off, and we’ll be here to support you”

“No, I— I’m set on this decision” you say, looking at her as she grasps your hand, even if you were trembling at the prospect of leaving without them. 

“Think of it as getting something that needed to be done out of the way first” Hitomi attempts to console—there is truth behind her words, if you somehow managed to evade Naoya’s persuasion at first, he’d only find a way to insist once more… There were many things that just couldn’t be hidden under the sun forever when it came to you. Better now than later, she supposes. “Still… I can’t figure out what his intentions are behind this? Why… now ?”

“Let’s not speak of that while he’s here” Mariya hushes her once she believes Naoya to be within earshot. He seemed rather amicable that morning, better not mess it up. “Be brave, Y/N. We’ll be here, waiting for you”

“In fact, we won’t leave this place!” Haruko chirps in, and her sister shakes her head. “Well, at least I will. I won’t be able to focus on anything else anyway”

“Don’t do that, Haruko” you chuckle ���...I don’t want you to get into trouble with Meiko-san, or Junko-san for that matter”

“It’s not us you should worry about” Hitomi adds once she senses Naoya’s eyes to be on you once more. The mere thought of being in the same area as him is enough to sicken her, and frighten her as well… “Please… be careful”

“As careful as I can be” you murmur, stopping just a few feet away from your estranged husband, the moment you dreaded so much, finally here. “I’ll see you when I get back”

“And we’ll be here” Mariya nods “Be safe”

With that, your ladies took a step back and left you to your husband, whose golden eyes hadn’t peeled away from you from the moment you came closer to his eyeshot, but you wouldn’t know because yours was glued to the floor.

Something that he intends to rectify, because he… Well, he wants to see you.

“Y/N” He calls, but you do not respond. You don’t even lift your gaze to his, at least not the first time, still stuck on the rocky ground.

“ Y/N ” Naoya repeats sternly, careful enough to not appear angry because he doesn’t want to start off on the wrong foot (just as Ranta advised him), but strong enough to show he’s serious, and this is when you finally look up.

Your gaze is intense, heavy on him, and yet… he can’t shake the notion that you’re not looking at him, but rather, through him, before briefly returning to the same spot on the ground.

“Are you ready?” He asks in an attempt to catch your attention back to him, and maybe, hopefully , start a conversation.

And that’s what usually transpired back then, when he felt he had some semblance of control… or relevance in your mind. Probably what you would’ve done in this moment too, just to remain under his radar and avoid any find of instigation on your part, but something inside you pushes you past your boundaries of self-preservation to respond with the tone you felt he deserved to be referred with—the only one he merited, and the one that would set the tone for the rest of the day.

“I’m here, aren’t I? ”

Naoya swallows, taking the stinging sensation of your indifference to the chest as his eyes unwittingly dart to the approaching figure on the corner of his eye and the rumbling sound that follows—the car.

After a few seconds, the driver stops the car just a few feet away from the gates, setting the vehicle in park alongside the engine turned on before getting out of the vehicle and walking over to his master.

“The car is ready, sir” he says as Naoya glances over to the familiar black car, the same one he used to bring you from the ryokan the couple spent their “honeymoon” in, as well as take you to the doctor last time.

His mind wasn’t particularly anywhere when it came to the existence of the car, he trusted his staff to upkeep it in the best way possible. However, it was accumulating quite the mileage and the prospect of buying a new one was looming closer and closer as days went by—but who knows if that will ever come to happen, after all, he’s fallen out of grace with the elders, and just this outing had to be approved through loops and loops of justifications…

Up until now, this had been nothing more than a negative beginning, unwieldy steps of Ranta’s plan. 

Yet, even when everything seems to be against him, he doesn’t lose hope. He pushes through this obstacle as he moves onto the car, first heading towards the passenger side to open the door and gesturing to you to step inside, while waiting for you to do so after you’re done waving goodbye to your staff…

That is, until he inadvertently catches sight of an additional figure approaching the crowd, one that has him rattling his belief yet again as he sees your face somewhat lighten up at his presence: his brother .

Naoya tries his best to ignore his pain as you finally step into the car, deafening himself from the chattery crowd who have nothing to comment on Naoaki’s arrival as he closes your door and moves on to the driver’s side.

He opens the door, gets into the driver’s seat, and once fastened his seatbelt, he takes hold of the steering wheel to begin driving into their new destination—with such focus on the road… one would almost think he was trying to run away.

The car soon begins to fade into the horizon, getting further and further away until it’s no longer seen. And when that happens, the crowd dissipates to return to their duties.

Yet, your staff remains, even when no one was there anymore—nervously glancing at each other with trembling lips and sorrowful eyes as they silently prayed that the events of that hauntingly similar day… wouldn’t occur again.

[enigmaticdrblockhead]

Looking Forward to the Abyss

(I felt inspired to write a spooky XF mini-fic for Halloween. Apologies.) @xffictober2022

SUMMARY:

A case gone wrong.

——— x ———

She knew. She’d known for a while now, but it seemed she grew tired of waiting for him to prove her wrong and decided to take the initiative.

His former self would’ve probably found this amusing. To be honest, his current self did a bit as well: ‘a fox, a Maggie, and a priest walk into a bar…’

But to be honest, he was more annoyed than anything else. He never could stand religion, and yes he now acknowledged the hypocrisy that his faith in ‘the truth’ was without a doubt a warped sense of religion for him, and he surmised that it was that part of him that understood and at times appreciated Scully’s conflicted nature; both the scientist and the catholic. But still, this was different; a feeble attempt at an exorcism he would guess.

Sorry Mrs. Scully, I skipped on lunch today so no green vomit I’m afraid.

He was; however, not annoyed by their expressions. Similar to prey in the near clutches of a predator, perhaps they could see the error, the miscalculated step they had made.

His eyes, non-blinking since all three joined together in the room, held little glimmer of light, only shadows of a forgotten, ancient, abyss. While he couldn’t bring himself to smile at the absurdity, he could feels the edges of his lips curl back away from his teeth in a snarl. Then as quickly as what little emotion he felt enter his mind and body, it quickly evaporated.

“Do you know what hell is?” His voice soft, but with a textured quality to remove any pretext of sincerity. He watched their shocked faces become somewhat perplexed, but didn’t wait for a response.

“No you don’t. You think hell is fire and brimstone. A place where ‘bad people’ go and pay for their sins. Where horned figures wrapped in red flesh dance as the damned scream in agony.

“It’s not that. I know, I’ve been there. Many times in fact. Hell…is everywhere. Hell is an abyss, devoid of light, heat, cold, love…of anything really. Hell is your darkest fears made into reality, where your nightmares are your only source of comfort, and where your mind is warped and shredded to the point where there is no hope of regaining your sanity.

“People think when you die, you go to heaven or hell. But people never think about what happens if you come back.

“Well, Mrs. Scully…I do. Because I did die, on a case. They killed me, and they foolishly thought to bring me back. They were religious too…although…”

He couldn’t help but smile now. It was a joke and he knew the punchline. How could he not smile.

“They worshipped a different entity, I’m sure you can guess who based on our meeting. But when they brought me back, I was different, that’s how they wanted it. You see,”

His voice had taken on an odd and out-of-place jovial quality now. His affect seemed to lift and brighten; it really was a good story after all.

“I think, they were trying to summon a demon, but…they actually brought ‘me’ back. Not that they knew. I was different. At first I didn’t know who, or what I was. A monstrosity, they hid beneath the floors in the basement. When they could they’d bring in someone, maybe two. With each person I consumed, I gained a larger understanding as to who I was.

“As I feasted on their corpses my body and my mind shaped back into something more familiar. But it only made it worse, I wanted to be myself again, but it came at the cost of devouring another. With a Joe, I could walk again. A Susan, speak. A Dana…”

He paused and his face fell. This was the hardest part of the story, even if it did have a happy ending.

“I was so close, so close to being me again. But they brought her. I couldn’t do it! I couldn’t!!!! But the darkness inside me could. I begged to God to kill me and to save her, I begged to my captors to let her go and that I would take double, no triple, the lives if they would just let her go. But their response was silence.

“Except for her. She didn’t believe it at first, of course not. But she saw the scrawled markings and warnings laid by my previous victims: to hide before sundown. Before I changed. Before I slaughtered them.

But there was nothing she could do. Initially she tried to find an opening, some way for us to escape. And in that process found a video recorder, apparently one of my former victims was on vacation and was recording their trip. And in their desperation, must’ve recorded their final moments… She saw it… I saw it…

“Despair. That’s what I think hell is. And that’s where we were. I didn’t know what else to do, but she did, she always knew. She sat me down and held me in her arms. Sobbing and stroking my hair, she said she loved me. And I loved her. That’s why, I did what I did.

“Yes Mrs. Scully, I killed your daughter. I tore into her flesh and consumed her mind, body, and soul.”

He saw their faces twist and contort into confused horror, but again he refused to wait for their response.

“But unlike the others, when I was done and I came back and those fools released me… I prayed… one last time… This time, my prayer was answered. He brought her back, all I had to do was sacrifice my captors in His name, which I was all to happy to do. And I have to say, their flesh was incredible.”

He couldn’t help but lick his lips.

“And as promised, she was back. But even better, she had no memories of what happened and no hint illness or disease in sight. I can’t count how many people I killed that night, or since then, if I’m being perfectly honest. And I don’t regret it…not one bit.

“But by all means Mrs. Scully and Father…I’m sorry I didn’t get your name; by all means sing your hymns, say your prays, perform your exorcisms…it won’t work. I’m not a demon, I’m Fox Mulder.”

[evermorehqs]

CATCHING MY BREATH, STARING OUT AN OPEN WINDOW

Victoria Everglot is based on Victoria from Corpse Bride. She is a 25 year old human, ballet teacher, and uses she/her pronouns. She has no powers. Victoria is portrayed by Anya Taylor-Joy and she is open.

CATCHING MY DEATH, AND I COULDN’T BE SURE

The Everglot name was always synonymous with money. Their family came from old money, back when coal mining was at it's prime. As renewable energy and more sustainable sources came to be the family's fortune began to suffer. Coal mining was a thing of the past and they had no choice but to cease their developments and live off the money they had gained over the years. Finis and Maudeline Everglot were the most recent of the Everglots to have money. Their daughter, Victoria, would die penniless if something didn't change. Their fortune had nearly run out and when Victoria was of age she was to be wed to a wealthy man. The issue was...her parents were picky and Victoria wanted to marry for love, not money. She grew up living a fairly lavish lifestyle but had always felt like a prisoner in her own home. Her parents put her in ballet at a young age. Dance became one of the only things Victoria loved from her childhood. Victoria grew up in a very sheltered home. She didn't know much about the outside world and wanted nothing more than to explore the world outside of her barred, bedroom windows. She wanted to meet the love of her life, travel the world, and find happiness outside of her drab life.

Victor Van Dort might have been a blessing in disguise. He was the only son of fish merchants who recently struck rich. They wanted their son to marry into the social elite and make a good life for himself. Victoria was meant to wed him and when time came she got scared and bailed. They'd had their rehearsal dinner, everything was set to go, but she ran and didn't stop until she reached Evermore. Victoria's not quite sure how she got there, but she does remember bits and pieces. Though her memories are blurry she knows she came from somewhere else and her parents were horrid. She settled into Evermore fairly well. She got a job at the dance studio, teaching young girls the art of ballet. Things were fine, but she grew lonely. The time she had known Victor she did feel connected to him. She wasn't sure if she loved him, but she thought she could definitely grow to love him. When he ended up in Evermore she was quite shocked. Except...he wasn't her Victor anymore. He was much more shaken up than before and kept talking about marrying a dead woman! Victoria was concerned for him and fears he may have lost all of his memories, as well as some of his sanity. She doesn't want to say she doesn't believe him, but it's very far fetched and she wants him to be well, come to his senses, and then perhaps build a life with her in Evermore.

I HAD A FEELING SO PECULIAR

❀ Barkis Bittern: He's the main thing Victoria forgot before her life here. He was second in line to be her husband. When Victoria and Victor had began to grow a bit closer, her parents began to consider him. Little does Victoria know is that now that he found her he intends to make her his own. Barkis is acting as if he doesn't know her though and is trying to win her over. Victoria can't pretend that his charm doesn't get to her sometimes, but something about him seems off and she's skeptical to trust him

❀ Flora Adams: She works at the dance studio with Victoria and she just adores the other woman. She became the first real friend in Evermore and Victoria cherishes their friendship

❀ Malina Saleh: She is bad news, for sure, but Victoria can't help but feel drawn to her. Mal gets Victoria to indulge in the darker, but finer, things in life. Victoria won’t deny that she has fun with the older lady, and she sure is beautiful.

THAT THIS PAIN WOULD BE FOR EVERMORE

[lunaetis]

@kiriisu​ asked :

" The coin has fallen and that means only one thing. " A smile as flirtatious and seductive directed toward Yelan. " Tonight you will spend with me. Those were the rules and I never break them. " It's true. Their little wager had perhaps been prejudiced by a gracious coin or perhaps Pantalone was luckier than he would have thought after all. His hand tucked beneath a soft black glove touched the delicate hand of the woman who had long stolen his sanity. " Please… Call me Talon. I don't like it when someone as special as you speak my "business" name. " His smile that could melt even the biggest icy heart appeared on his pale face with his eyes turned into two happy lines. He was happy that even such an innocent bet outside of their work could benefit more than anyone thought.

unprompted. || always accepting

─「夜兰」─  bets and challenges were something the owner of yanshang teahouse was quite familiar with. if anything, one could say she wouldn’t enter into a bet or challenge she didn’t know she could win. the old saying and warning people gave: don't play dice at yanshang teahouse was made with a reason. if it was within her territory, it was not possible for anyone to beat her at dice. she had both the means and skills to ensure her victory. yelan was too prideful to ever lose within the ground she commands and rules.

                he was an exception, however.

                for once, the INFORMANT entered into a bet that would decide her fate for the night with a plan to cheat like how she usually would. it sounded all grand and significant, especially considering who she was up against, and one would expect her to be pulling all stops to achieve the WIN.

                but the way her aquatic hues gazed at the regrator was a look that NO ONE had ever been able to call forth with her.

                “ it seems that luck is on your side tonight. alright. rules are rules. ” a harmless comment, but the SMILE appearing upon her lips was a telltale sign how this loss wasn’t having any negative effect on her. it was something important to note, however, that the usually COMPETITIVE spy had subtly let her guard down around the presence of someone who should be one of the most dangerous enemies she had ever faced. it was clear how these two’s relationship had developed past what anyone could perceive by titles alone.

                as his gloved hand came to her own, the female willingly laced their fingers together, filling the gaps between his digits with her own and marveled over how perfectly they had fitted together as though they were made for each other. she quietly brought his hand towards her lips, gently placing a KISS over his knuckles with a sweet smile no other had seen from her.

                “ tonight, i am yours, talon. ” special, he said. that goes for BOTH of them. the man before her, he was more special to her than anyone she had ever met, and she had allowed him inside the walls she had built. and in a way, she knew that she had forced her way inside of his fortress too. the smiles they had exchanged weren’t ones they conjured up to PLEASE others, but they were genuine, unaltered delight. within the confine of the room, away from others’ eyes, away from the public, they had allowed themselves to be seen at their most vulnerables.

                to have the other see that YEARN, that longing, that weakness they would surrender so willingly to no one but them.

                her free hand reached out, not willing to let go of their connected ones, before soft digits caressed over his jawline, as though memorized by the sight itself. since when did losing to him wasn’t so frustrating ? since when did he become someone she didn’t mind SURRENDERING to ? how dangerous.

                without a word, she leaned forward and guided him closer, before her lips captured his in a sweet, sweet kiss.

                maybe, her words weren’t only limited to tonight after all.

[tarnishedxknight]

"When I'm with you, everything feels right."

((@lambofasolidor for Basch!))

@lambofasolidor

It was as if she'd reached into his mind at that very moment and had read aloud what she saw written upon it. Here in Archadia, Basch could be himself around only two people, Larsa and Cygni. Even of those two, it was only Cygni he could not only be himself with by name, but beyond that as well. His heart, his mind, his true emotions... often he had to hide them from even from Lord Larsa.

basch was not here to make friends, to be happy, or to have a life of his own... he was here to protect Larsa and to help keep stability within Archadia, and thus in all of Ivalice. It was a duty of immense importance, with dire consequences if he should fail. It was a cause well worth sacrificing his own identity and, often enough, his well-being.

And it had been his twin's dying request of him. That alone made it non-negotiable for Basch.

But oh, how painfully exhausting, lonely, and troubling it was to fill his brother's shoes. Not only did he have to deal with Judge Magisters and Judges at each other's throats, but he had to emulate a personality so different from his own. It wreaked havoc on his mental health, to have to be short or blunt with others, cold or cruel even, and to play this role that made him feel very often like a terrible person. That was not the worst of it, though. The worst thing... was not being able to properly mourn his brother. In keeping him strangely alive in this farce he maintained each day, it prevented Basch from letting go, or from having any kind of closure. Every day the pain returned anew, like a slowly-healing wound freshly ripped open repeatedly, to hear Noah's voice project from his helm.

Cygni... was his only peace. With the exception sometimes of Larsa, she alone was keeping his heart alive and his sanity intact. Basch missed Dalmasca and Ashelia terribly, but Cygni was free to travel there. Whenever she returned, she brought with her stories of Ashe and Rabanastre that were just enough to sustain Basch for a little while longer. And of course, her careful tending of him, making sure he ate and drank water, telling him to go to bed when he burned the midnight oil with his paperwork, and being there for him whenever he became overwhelmed and needed a friend.

Was that what she was? Only a friend? Basch wasn't sure anymore. Well, yes, she was. She had to be. To remain that. Because Cygni was, of course, married to Ashelia. Though Basch may, at this point, have loved them both, he could be with neither. Yet another way in which he had to restrain and isolate himself. But that did not mean he still could not be genuine with Cygni... to a point.

It was one of those rare moments when they were alone together, and so Basch could remove his helm and be himself. He'd almost forgotten how, but for Cygni's care of him. He still didn't understand why she cared so much. Perhaps it was because Ashe had asked her to, or she was doing it for Ashe, because she knew he was a friend. He dared not think there might be any other reason, lest the hope tear him apart as it had almost done with his love for Ashelia.

"Aye..." he replied gently back to her. "Beyond that door, the world is in turmoil, and Basch is dead. He lives only here..." His eyes lifted to hers from where he sat at Noah's desk. "Largely because of you, my lady," he said with deep gratitude. "When I am with you, the world ceases to spiral out of control. There is peace in your smile and wisdom in your words. I see why the lady Ashe is so enamored of you." Had that been too much to say to her? Had he gone too far? Basch hoped not. "Thank you, for aiding me in this most important of endeavors."