#like - as if Not seeking professional help is like a 'well; yeah; of course you felt bad'

[chaseprice]

,

[pucksandpower]

Hypnotized

Lando Norris x hypnotherapist!Reader

Summary: in which Lando becomes intimately familiar with the professional (and not so professional) benefits of hypnosis

Warnings: 18+ content, dubious consent (though Lando is very much a willing participant), and temporary mindbreak

You lean back in your plush leather chair, taking a sip of tea as you look over the notes for your next client. Lando Norris — a rising star of Formula 1, seeking help to improve his performance on the track. You’ve worked with elite athletes before, but there’s something about this case that intrigues you.

The door opens and he strides in, radiating youthful confidence. “Ms. Y/L/N, thanks for seeing me on such short notice.”

“Please, have a seat Lando. And call me Y/N,” you reply with a warm smile. “I have to admit, when your team reached out, I was surprised. Most drivers come to me later in their careers when the mental side gets tougher.”

He settles onto the couch across from you. “Yeah, well, I’m a bit of an overachiever,” he grins cheekily. “I figure I should get every advantage I can while I’m young.”

You can’t help but be charmed by his boyish cockiness. “Fair enough. So, walk me through what’s bringing you here. What are you hoping hypnotherapy can do for you?”

Lando scratches his head, suddenly looking a bit sheepish. “To be honest, I’m not totally sure? The team psychologists have helped with some stuff like visualization and confidence building. But I feel like there’s still … I don’t know, another level I can’t quite tap into?”

He pauses, cheeks reddening slightly. “I may have also heard some … rumors about hypnosis helping drivers get, uh, in the zone in a different way.”

You raise an eyebrow at that. “I see. And what sort of zone were you hoping to reach exactly?”

“Just, you know, being totally focused. Primed to perform at my absolute peak,” he answers quickly, not meeting your eyes. “Eliminate any lingering doubts or hesitation.”

“Mmmhmm,” you murmur, watching his fidgeting increase. It’s clear there’s more to this, perhaps some adolescent fantasy driven by locker room talk. You decide to have a bit of fun drawing it out.

“Well, maximum focus and confidence under extreme stress is certainly one of the primary benefits of hypnotherapy for athletes. Though of course, there can be … other effects depending on the suggestions given.”

Lando’s eyes flick up to meet yours, pupils dilating with obvious intrigue. “Other effects? Like what?”

You shrug lightly. “Oh, lowered inhibition, increased susceptibility to instructions, compulsions to obey ...” You trail off, letting the implications hang in the air. “But I’m sure whatever rumors you’ve heard are just overblown exaggerations.”

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard. “R-right, of course. So, uh, how would we go about getting me in that totally focused zone?”

You can scarcely suppress a grin — he’s hooked now, curiosity and hormones getting the better of him. “Well, first we’d need to get you in a deeply relaxed state, open and receptive to suggestions. I’d start with some deep breathing exercises, maybe have you focus on the sound of my voice ...”

Unconsciously, Lando’s eyelids grow heavier as you speak in a low, soothing tone. “Breath slowly deepening, muscles going deliciously loose and limp ...”

He blinks hard, shaking his head minutely. “Sorry, what was I saying?”

“Don’t worry,” you assure him. “A little taste of just how quickly you might respond. Hypnotic states can sneak up quite easily when you’re not prepared for them.”

Lando swallows again, but there’s no hiding the interest smoldering in his eyes now. “That’s … good to know. So, uh, once I was in this state, what sort of suggestions would you give?”

You lean forward, holding his gaze. “Anything you need, darling. Perhaps prompts to fill your mind with dizzying focus — a white hot, all-consuming need to push every limit and achieve perfection. Or maybe something to strip away distractions and doubts, leaving you deliciously pliant and desperate to follow instructions without hesitation ...”

His breath catches as ripples of arousal play across his features. You’ve dangled the bait thoroughly now, time to reel him in.

“Of course, that’s all just theoretical for an athlete like you,” you continue lightly. “I’m sure you’d only want suggestions tailored for pure professional benefit.”

Lando opens his mouth, then closes it, visibly wrestling with indecision. Finally, he sits up straight, jaw setting in boyish determination.

“Actually … I think maybe exploring some of those other effects could be useful too. You know, for full preparation.”

You bite back a smile — he’s all bravado again, feigning nonchalance. How delicious.

“Well, if you’re certain. We should probably start with a simple induction and suggestion, see how you respond.”

Rising from your chair, you cross the room to where he sits, movements slow and deliberate. Lando’s eyes are immediately drawn to the sway of your hips, the rapid rise and fall of his chest betraying his arousal.

“Just relax and look into my eyes ...” you murmur, voice dropping an octave as you hold up a pendant and begin tracing figure eights before his face. “Let your mind follow the path of the pendulum, breathing slowly … in and out ...”

His pupils blown wide, Lando is soon leaning back bonelessly, mouth slightly ajar. A few dazed blinks is all the resistance he offers as you trail featherlight touches down his arm.

“There’s a good boy … nice and open, isn’t it? Let everything else fall away except the need to please me.”

A shudder wracks his frame and you can see the tendons in his neck straining, fighting the compulsion already worming into his psyche. But his eyes remain locked on yours, drowning in your control.

“I … I want to ...” he stammers helplessly.

“Shhhh,” you soothe, bending closer so that your lips nearly brush his ear. “You don’t need to worry about what you want anymore. That’s my choice now, understood?”

He gives a tiny nod and you feel a surge of heady power.

“Such a good boy. And to reward your obedience, you’re going to take off your shirt. Slowly ...”

There’s a moment of tension, then Lando raises trembling hands to grasp the hem of his shirt. You can see the mottled flush spreading across his torso as inch by inch it’s revealed to you. His breath is coming in ragged pants by the time the shirt drops to the floor, chest heaving with mingled want and shame.

“Very nice,” you practically purr. “I can see you’re already feeling the compulsions seeping in. Should we make them … deeper?”

His head bobs dumbly and you laugh, low and throaty.

“That’s what I thought. Now, lay back for me ...”

Lando immediately obeys, body going pliant and helpless. You pull over an ottoman, sitting so you can gently straddle his hips, relishing the hitch in his breath as your heat settles against him.

“You’re going to do absolutely everything I say without hesitation or doubt,” you whisper harshly, watching him shudder. “Any instructions, no matter what they may be, you’ll follow with desperate enthusiasm.”

He whimpers, hips twitching upwards in mute plea. Grasping his jaw firmly, you force his eyes to yours.

“This is for your own good, darling. We need to burn away every last shred of selfishness and pride so you can ascend to true, shattering focus. You understand, don’t you?”

“Y-yes … yes,” he slurs, already sinking deeper into degrading bliss.

You reward him with a slow, filthy grind of your hips and he cries out unabashedly. Everywhere your hands and mouth worship his skin, you can feel the tremors of arousal and surrender.

“That’s perfect,” you murmur against the hollow of his throat. “Now, I want you to strip the rest of the way ...”

Before the words have fully left your lips, Lando is frantically shucking his pants and boxers, whining as his flushed length bobs free. The brazen lust and need in his hooded eyes would be shocking from the bashful newbie you met earlier.

You give an approving hum, thrilling at how quickly your control has already remade him. One fingernail traces along rigid flesh and he bucks shamelessly into your touch.

“You’re being such a good boy. I think it’s time we really sealed this new role into your head. Imagine the most dizzying, overwhelming orgasm you’ve ever had, multiplied a hundredfold ...”

His eyes roll back, mouth open in a silent wail at just the suggestion. You grip him firmly, relishing the desperate whine that bursts from his lips.

“You’re going to come like that, harder than you ever dreamed. And as the lightning arcs of bliss engulf your entire being, all that pleasure will become inextricably entwined with an overwhelming need to obey my every whim ...”

Lando is panting and keening, hips pumping up into your tight fist. You can feel his body straining closer to that precipice, cords of muscle standing out in sharp relief. With a final brutal stroke, you growl the trigger words,

“Come for me, love!”

His back bows in a silent scream, mouth frozen in rapturous torment. You gentle him through each shuddering pulse, ensuring every layer of consciousness is saturated with soul-shattering ecstasy and the new compulsions you’ve locked within.

At last, he sags back to the couch, eyes glassy and unfocused. You bend close, lips caressing the damp hair at his temple.

“Tell me, darling, how does it feel to be remade into perfection?”

He blinks slowly, lips curving in a blissful smile. “I … I need to obey ...” he slurs dozily. “Please … use me however you desire ...”

You chuckle darkly, letting nails rake over his sensitized flesh and making him buck weakly. “Oh I will, lover. I’m going to take you to shattering new heights of surrender. You won’t be able to so much as enter the cockpit without shuddering need to please me foremost in your mind ...”

His only response is a quiet whimper, eyes already slipping shut in sated exhaustion, completely yours to reshape however you wish.

You settle back, excitement thrilling through you at all the delicious possibilities stretching ahead.

***

The roar of the crowd is deafening as you make your way through the paddock area towards the McLaren motorhome at the British Grand Prix. Fans press eagerly against the barriers lining the path, craning for a glimpse of their racing idols as they’re escorted by burly security guards.

You keep your head held high, unruffled by the frenzy of flashing cameras and shouted requests for autographs as you stride confidently alongside Lando.

He casts you a sidelong glance, the excited energy thrumming off him in waves. “Thanks for being here, Y/N,” he murmurs with a small, bashful smile. “Having you in my corner calms my nerves a bit.”

You reach out to give his arm a reassuring squeeze, warmth blooming in your chest. “Of course, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.” Your voice takes on a slightly teasing lilt as you add, “Besides, this way I can provide my … specialized services should you require them before the race.”

A dusky flush steals across Lando’s cheeks at your words, his eyes darkening in a way that sends a curl of heat unfurling low in your belly. Before he can respond, one of the crew members is ushering you both towards a nondescript door.

With a nod of thanks, Lando pushes through the door, allowing you to enter the modestly appointed room first before following and securing it behind you.

The space is small yet functional — equipped with a well-worn sofa situated before a large television displaying timing data, along with an armchair tucked into the corner. Your gaze lands on the single bed shoved against the far wall and you suddenly find it difficult to swallow around the lump in your throat.

“Sorry about the mess,” Lando says almost sheepishly, running a hand through his chestnut locks. “I haven’t exactly had much time to tidy up.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you murmur distractedly, already hyper-aware of the thick tension charging the air between your bodies, crackling like a livewire in the small distance separating you.

Lando opens his mouth as if to speak, then seems to think better of it, shuffling his feet almost bashfully. You can practically see the thoughts whirring at a million miles an hour behind his furrowed brow, weighing him down as nerves and doubts threaten to shatter his hard-won focus.

Without a word, you close the distance between you, cradling his face in your hands to force him to meet your gaze.

“Let me help you,” you breathe, your voice low and gentle yet laced with that commanding tone he can never seem to resist.

He immediately melts into your touch, the taut lines of stress slowly easing from his features. “Please,” he whispers back, every inch of nervous energy and kinetic vibration seeming to melt from his body as your thumbs trace soothing patterns across the sharp planes of his cheekbones. “Need you to clear my mind.”

A soft, fond smile curves your lips at the naked entreaty in his tone. This man — so cocky and confident in most aspects of life, yet so unguarded and sweetly vulnerable when it’s just the two of you.

You continue your tender ministrations, watching in rapt fascination as his eyes drift shut and his breathing grows steady and even. When you finally speak, your words are low and hypnotic, the timbre of your voice wrapping around Lando like a warm blanket ushering him down, down into delicious oblivion.

“That’s it, darling … let yourself sink deeper with each breath. Shut out all the noise and distractions — everything except my voice guiding you. Focus on the rise and fall of your chest, the gentle thump of your heartbeat … allow your body to grow heavy and pliant as you let me take the lead ...”

He shivers slightly, yielding fully to your hypnotic trance with a soft, contented exhalation. In this blissed-out state, his features are lax and utterly at peace, the hard lines of tension and worry melting away until he looks almost cherubic.

“There you are,” you can’t help but murmur in approval, trailing your fingertips along the sharp line of his jaw. “So perfect and calm for me.” Your gaze rakes over the long fans of his lashes fanning across his cheekbones, the full pout of his lips parted ever so slightly on deep, even breaths. He looks utterly debauched, despite the fact that you’ve barely even touched him yet.

Unable to resist such temptation any longer, you bend to capture Lando’s lips in a slow kiss — gentle at first, then deepening into something more heated, more ravenous as your tongue sweeps into the heat of his mouth to tangle with his own.

He remains completely pliant beneath your wandering hands and questing mouth, body thrumming with blissful surrender as you map every lush inch of him.

Finally, breathless and flushed, you tear your mouth from his with a soft groan of regret. “God, darling … what you do to me ...” you murmur, trailing hot, openmouthed kisses along the stubbled line of his jaw, down the taut cords of his neck. “Just seeing you like this, so gorgeous and willing … falling so deep for me … I could take you right here like this and you’d let me, wouldn’t you?”

You scrape your teeth over that sensitive patch of skin just below his ear and he trembles almost violently, a low whine spilling past his lips even as his head lolls back to allow you better access. When you press an openmouthed kiss to his wildly fluttering pulse point, his voice comes out low and syrupy sweet.

“Please, Y/N … please ...” he slurs in a breathy exhale, body arching reflexively into yours as his hands come up to clutch at your hips in a silent entreaty.

A frisson of lust races down your spine at his wanton plea, stoking the simmering ember of arousal into a roaring blaze. How quickly his mind has slipped into a glorious, aching haze of want and need for your touch.

You could so easily press your advantage right now — undress him with exquisite slowness, bend him over and take him in delirious new ways that would leave him utterly incoherent. The mental images alone are nearly enough to make you growl in feral possessiveness.

Somehow, you manage to retain a herculean thread of control, nuzzling against the heated skin of Lando’s neck as you press him gently yet insistently towards the bed until the backs of his thighs hit the mattress and he sinks onto the soft cotton sheets with a dazed exhale. His eyes are molten embers burning with naked want and trust as he gazes up at you, outright trembling with the effort of holding himself back from hauling you down on top of him.

Gently brushing a stray lock of hair from his brow, you settle yourself to straddle his lap, reveling in the delicious points of heated skin against skin where your bodies make contact through the thin barrier of your clothing. For an aching span of heartbeats, you drink in the sight of him — kiss-swollen lips parted on shallow pants, the tempting vee of his open shirt collar exposing just a tantalizing sliver of his smooth chest, hard planes of muscle rippling beneath tanned skin as he quivers with ill-restrained desire.

“Beautiful,” you husk in a low rasp, summoning every ounce of your rapidly waning willpower to force the words past the molten heat in your throat. “You are so fucking beautiful like this.”

Lando swallows thickly at the unadulterated lust and reverence saturating your tone, his throat bobbing convulsively. “You … you should see yourself,” he finally manages in a strained murmur. “You’re a goddess ...” His hands come up of their own volition to splay across the supple curves of your waist, tracing searing paths across your skin as if to memorize every lush dip and swell.

A throaty chuckle escapes you as you lean into his touch in shameless encouragement. “I could devour you in this moment and I’d still crave more.” Dipping your head to drag openmouthed kisses along the salty-sweet skin of his collarbone, you muse heatedly, “In fact, I’m tempted to lock that door and have you right here like the decadent treat you are.”

“God, yes ...” Lando outright groans at your words, hips arching up in a desperate, instinctual grind against yours that leaves you both shuddering at the sudden, intoxicating friction. His fingers curl into the soft flesh of your hips, pupil-blown eyes full of unrestrained need as he gazes up at you like you’re the answer to his every secret desire. “Please, Y/N … anything, just … need you.”

The reverent, naked pleading in his voice steals the breath from your lungs and you’re abruptly reminded of the singular responsibility you have — not just as his lover, but as the person he’s entrusted to guide and ground him when he’s spiraling.

Your mouth curves into an indulgent smile as you tenderly cradle his face in your palms, tapping into that core of composure and peace that helps tether you both in moments like this.

“In due time, my love,” you murmur, leaning in to pepper slow, lingering kisses across his brow, along the delicate skin beneath his eyes. You feel Lando physically sink back against the mattress with a soft exhalation as your tender ministrations lull him once more into a state of relaxation and receptivity — his mind clearing of everything but blissful focus on you and your touch.

“Remember why you’re here, and all the hard work that brought you to this moment,” you continue in a low, soothing murmur against his flushed skin. “You’ve poured your heart and soul into this dream, and now it’s time to reap the sweet fruit of your efforts. Leave behind all the doubts, all the fear and anxious energy that’s been holding you back.” Arching up on your knees, you gently resettle your weight so you’re seated flush against his core, waves of heat radiating between your joined bodies in delicious waves with every motion and shallow breath.

“Let go of everything but my voice, my touch grounding you in this moment. This is your destiny, Lando — all you have to do is embrace it.” With your final murmured words, you seal the sentiment by slanting your mouth over his in a filthy, openmouthed kiss that quickly descends into pure, unbridled passion as he releases an unrestrained keen of surrender.

His arms come up to band around your waist, clutching you impossibly closer as if to merge your very beings into one searing point of euphoric light. You lose yourselves in the wet slide of tongue and teeth and racing heartbeats until the buzzing of Lando’s phone against the nearby nightstand finally jolts you from your haze of lust and need. For a suspended beat, you simply drink in the sight of him — debauched and beautifully wrecked in the best way possible, with slick lips parted around panting breaths and hair tousled in a riotous mess.

“Time?” Lando finally rasps, sounding as utterly gutted as you feel.

You force yourself to glance at the glowing numbers on his phone screen, steeling yourself against the surge of regret at having to end this delicious interlude. “Twenty minutes until you need to be in the garage,” you confirm with a heavy exhale.

With a low groan that goes straight to your core, Lando surges up to slant his mouth hungrily over yours once more in one last kiss goodbye before allowing you to carefully extract yourself from his lap. You both take a few moments to catch your breath and restore some semblance of outward composure, though your insides continue to feel like a lit match in a patch of dry tinder.

“Ready for this?” You arch a pointed brow at Lando as he pushes off the bed to put on his fireproofs and race suit with admirably steady hands, given how thoroughly unwound he had been mere moments ago.

He flashes you his trademark grin — though this time it holds an air of supreme confidence and purpose that sends a thrill racing down your spine. “Like you said … this is my destiny.” Pulling you close with one hand at the small of your back, he dips his head to murmur gratefully against your lips, “And you helped me find it today.”

With one final kiss that leaves you lightheaded, Lando turns to grab his water bottle and heads towards the door, every bit the consummate professional buckling down to handle the job at hand. You watch him go with a tender smile playing across your lips, filled with an irrational surge of pride at how far he’s come.

A few hours later, you’re holding your breath in the garage as Lando’s MCL38 comes screaming around the final turn and over the finish line — the checkered flag signaling his maiden victory at long last. From on top the podium, his elated gaze immediately finds yours through the throngs of people and hoisted champagne bottles.

The smile he bestows is so private and full of promise that warmth blossoms in your chest and your skin tingles deliciously in anticipation.

After the celebrations and press obligations have wound down, Lando nearly sprints off the track and back into the paddock area, lifting you clean off your feet in a tight embrace when he reaches you. His lips move feverishly against your own, words tumbling out in a reverent exhale barely audible over the noise of the crowd.

“Thank you, thank you … I couldn’t have done it without you. God, I love you so much ...”

And in that perfect moment — drunk on the roar of the crowd, the giddy thrill of victory, and the smoldering promise in the depths of Lando’s eyes — you’re already mentally preparing to give him the most mind-blowing reward imaginable.

***

The champagne is still buzzing through your veins, lending an extra fizz of exhilaration to the crackling charge in the air as you hastily key into your hotel suite hand-in-hand with Lando.

No sooner has the door clicked shut behind you than he’s on you in a searing tangle of heat and desire — mouth hot and insistent, fingers skating across every bare inch of exposed skin as if he’s a man dying of thirst and you’re the last oasis for miles.

“Fuck, Y/N ...” he rasps reverently against the fevered skin of your neck, pressing a hot, openmouthed kiss to your wildly fluttering pulse. “You’re incredible, so bloody perfect.” His hands roam hungrily, deftly stripping you of layer upon layer of clothing until you’re left deliciously bare before his molten gaze. “Let me worship you properly, yeah? God knows you deserve it after today.”

A tremor of need races through you at his naked desire, amplified tenfold by the molten timbre of Lando’s rough, lust-thickened voice. Without breaking eye contact, you hook your fingers through his belt loops and begin walking him back towards the lavish bedroom, relishing the sharp inhale he sucks through his teeth at your commanding confidence.

There’s a practiced, sensual arch to your spine as you work the tails of his crisp button-down free from the waistband of his trousers, taking your sweet time to pop each individual button until the smooth, tanned expanse of his torso is laid bare.

Warm fingertips trail an achingly slow path up the defined ridges of his abdomen as you drink in the sight of him — pupils blown wide with barely restrained want and that delicious lower lip caught between his teeth as his chest rises and falls with shallow stuttering pants.

“Is this what you want, darling?” You murmur silkily, palming him through the rapidly tenting fabric of his pants and delighting in the strangled whine that punches from his lips at the contact. His hands fly up to clutch convulsively at your hips, gripping with bruising force as if you’re his only lifeline in a raging sea of lust and sensation.

“Yes … please,” he forces out on a ragged exhale, body practically thrumming with desperation as you continue to work him with languid strokes while rocking your hips in a slow, sensual grind against his throbbing need.

The headiness of having this confident man quivering and needy at your touch sends a heady surge of possessive satisfaction coursing through you.

“Well, since you asked so nicely ...”

With a decadent hum, you deftly pop the button of Lando’s pants and drag the zipper down in one smooth motion, allowing his rigid cock to spring free at last, flushed and straining obscenely. You swipe your thumb through the pearlescent bead of precome gathered at the swollen tip, making his hips judder with desperate rolls at the stimulation.

“Y/N … fuck, I need … need your mouth ...” Lando grits out, tangling his fingers in your hair with a barely restrained growl.

You can’t help the low, sultry chuckle that spills past your lips at his feverish plea. “So impatient,” you tut, even as you sink gracefully to your knees before him, trailing openmouthed kisses along the hard ridges of his abdomen. “But you’ve been such a good boy for me lately, I suppose I can reward you.”

Another punched-out curse fractures the air as Lando’s head tips back on a low groan at the first hot lick of your tongue up the length of his rigid shaft. You take your sweet time working him over until his entire body is trembling with the effort of holding himself in check, fingers clenched white-knuckle tight in your hair.

“Look at you, so pretty for me,” you purr at him from beneath your lashes. “I wonder how quickly I could have you coming apart completely on my tongue.”

A broken, desperate whine escapes Lando at your words. “Fuck … I’m not gonna last,” he warns through gritted teeth.

With a final swirl of your tongue around the swollen crown of him, you pull off with a lush, obscene pop. “Don’t you dare hold back for me,” you murmur, voice dripping wanton sin as you tighten your grip at the base of his throbbing length to stave off the mounting waves of his building release. “I want to taste every … last … drop.”

The broken whine that tears itself from Lando’s throat quickly warps into a strangled shout of ecstasy as you hollow your cheeks and sink back down to take his aching cock as far as you can. He outright sobs your name over and over as you relentlessly work him undone with hollowed cheeks and swirls of your talented tongue — at this point he’s putty in your hands, helpless to do anything other than clutch at you and shatter apart.

You pull back with a filthy, slurping noise just as the first hot ropes of milky white spurt from his slit, painting your tongue and lips with thick, viscous streaks. A guttural groan rumbles up from his chest at the shamelessly lewd sight, cock giving one final twitch against your lips as you swallow greedily, lapping and sucking every musky drop from his overstimulated flesh.

His knees nearly buckle at the over-the-top eroticism of it all, hands knotting tighter in your hair as if the grounding points of contact are all that’s keeping him anchored to this mortal plane.

Only once you’ve thoroughly wrung him dry with your mouth and tongue do you sit back on your heels, swiping the back of your hand across your swollen, well-used lips to clean away the remnant beads of his climax. Each breath Lando sucks into his heaving lungs is like molten fire in his tortured chest, his pupils still dilated as he gazes down in awe and not a small amount of reverence at where you’re tucked so demurely between his parted thighs.

“Bloody fucking hell, love,” he rasps around a breathy, disbelieving puff of laughter. “C’mere, lemme return the favor … I need to taste you in the worst way.”

His words go straight to your rapidly tightening core, sending a fresh gush of slick arousal pooling between your thighs. You allow him to haul you up by your elbows and press you into the plush mattress, surrendering to his hot, open-mouthed kisses and seeking hands as he divests you completely of your last shreds of clothing.

When his tongue finally finds your drenched center, you keen high and helpless in the back of your throat. “Oh god, Lando … yes, just like that ...”

Lando answers your breathless encouragement by burying his tongue deeper into your grasping heat with a satisfied groan. The wildly intimate stretch and stimulation of his clever licks and kitten flicks against your swollen bud quickly has you squirming and thrashing against the mattress in a glorious, overstimulated daze.

All you can do is pant and whimper encouragements, fingers tangling unconsciously in his thick chestnut locks as you rock yourself shamelessly into his mouth.

Just when you think the maddening coil of ecstasy winding tighter and tighter deep in your core can’t possibly grow any tighter, Lando slips two long fingers inside your slick, fluttering entrance with a guttural groan of satisfaction. The fullness of the dual sensations instantly has you seizing up all over, back arching off the bed as he works you over with sure, steady strokes.

“Oh fuck, fuck me … Lando, you feel … so g-good, ungh!” The inarticulate stream of praise and curses rapidly devolves into broken moans as he relentlessly pistons his fingers in and out, strumming insistently against that spongy cluster of nerves with each punishing thrust. You’re quickly rendered mindless, nothing but a writhing, desperate bundle of raw need and want with every nerve alight at his exquisite touch.

When Lando’s lips finally close over your pulsing clit and suckle hard, your entire world shatters into stardust with the force of your climax. A hoarse shout rips from deep in your chest as the coil within you finally detonates in waves of dizzying, toe-curling pleasure that seem to go on and on and on. Lando works you through it all with his plush mouth and tireless fingers, lapping up the honeyed rush of your release like a man dying of thirst.

For several long, blissful moments, the only sounds are your mingled gasps and pants for air as you float hazily down from your high. Lando’s lips trail scorching paths along the inside of your trembling thighs, nuzzling and nipping at sensitive flesh before finally lifting his head to grace you with that familiar adoring look that never fails to make your heartbeat trip.

“Look at the mess you’ve made, love,” he drags his index finger through the slick mess coating his chin and lips. With a blatantly filthy leer that sends a shiver of fresh arousal cascading down your spine, he slips the digit into his mouth and sucks it clean with a rumbling groan of satisfaction. “Delicious.”

You’re still totally wrecked and incoherent from your release, every nerve in your body humming and jangling in the aftermath like overstimulated livewires. A punched-out moan manages to escape you at his brazen obscenity as your hips lift off the bed in an instinctual, needful grind. “Inside me. Need y-you inside ...”

Lando rises over you in one fluid, graceful motion, hips slotting effortlessly between your splayed thighs as he brackets your face between his large palms, drinking you in hungrily. “God, look at you — you’re fucking glorious like this, wrecked and desperate for me,” he murmurs in a low rasp, cock dragging slickly through your sopping folds to nudge insistently at your entrance. “How do you do this to me, huh? Break me apart so effortlessly then have me begging on my knees for more of you ...”

With that, he bottoms out in one smooth, torturous glide — the exquisite, familiar fullness stealing your breath and sending stars bursting across your vision at the electrifying feeling of being stuffed so deliciously deep. You wrap your legs high around his taut waist, ankles locking needfully as you roll your hips in frantic little circles seeking any kind of friction.

“Oh god, Lando … move, please … need you to move, it hurts so fucking good ...”

He answers your pleading moans with a soul-scorching kiss, lips and tongue consuming you in delicious, velvet heat as he sets a ruthless, punishing pace, spearing into your clenching depths with all the force and stamina that makes him such a world-class athlete. You match him thrust for thrust, your cries swallowed by his plundering mouth as the delicious drag and slap of skin against skin fills your senses.

“I’ll never get enough,” Lando grits out between breathy curses. His teeth find purchase at the dip of your neck, sending a starburst of sensation and pain across your sensitized nerves that only compounds the haze of carnal bliss wrapping you in its searing embrace. “Could spend my life buried inside you like this and it still wouldn’t be long enough ...”

His words ignite something feral, darkly possessive in your core, an echoing howl of belonging and ownership that it feels like you’ve been careening towards since the very first time he surrendered to you in trance. With a carnal growl, you hook your ankles tighter, using your legs to flip Lando onto his back as you rise up to straddle his hips.

His eyes go comically wide before he’s grinding up into you with a gasp, grasping your hips hard enough to bruise as you set a punishing new rhythm.

“Say it again … tell me who you belong to.” Your voice is hoarse, burnished in equal parts wanton need and flinty command — you don’t care which one makes him shatter apart at the seams so long as he answers your order.

Lando immediately locks eyes with yours, gaze fever-bright and seeming to pierce straight into your very soul as he clamps his hands around your throat with delicious pressure. “You,” he groans without hesitation, the pads of his fingers flexing as your pulse throbs wildly beneath his touch. “You own me, down to my bloody bones.”

The reverent oath sends a surge of lust and possession searing through your bloodstream, stoking the incandescent heat pooling low in your belly to fever pitch once more. Your hips move in wild rolls, desperate and ragged as you ride him with reckless abandon. Lando keeps one hand locked at the juncture of your throat while the other skates up your side to palm your breast, rolling the peaked tip between calloused fingers.

“I can feel you getting close already, look at you … my perfect, filthy girl throwing herself at me like she needs nothing else but my cock splitting her apart,” he growls gutturally, his words and the punishing rhythm growing more and more erratic as your combined pleasure crests higher and higher.

Quite suddenly, Lando hooks his feet against the mattress and surges up to capture your lips in a sweltering, soul-devouring kiss as his hips somehow piston even faster into your desperately clenching depths. His name fractures and shatters around the seal of your kiss as your entire world liquefies into ribbons of rapture, ecstasy blotting out all coherent thought until every last shred of tension and want finally implodes in a supernova behind your navel.

Lando gasps against your lips as your release floods him, thick and scorching hot — wave after wave milking the most intense convulsions from his straining cock as his own orgasm shatters loose. You rock together through the shared obliteration of your mutual bliss until there’s nothing left but the gentle lapping of aftershocks and Lando’s thumb stroking idly along the racing pulse at the hollow of your throat.

When you finally manage to crack your eyes and focus on the beautiful wreck of a man sprawled boneless beneath you, the look of besotten awe on his features nearly takes your breath away all over again. Then his rueful chuckle rumbles up from deep in his chest, melting away the last smoldering embers of tension as he brushes a stray lock of damp hair back from your brow.

“What on earth am I going to do with you, love?” He murmurs, the hint of a smirk toying at the corner of his lips. “Now I’m permanently addicted.” He presses a lingering, searing kiss to your swollen mouth before pulling back to rest his forehead against yours. “Though I suppose there are worse fates.”

You answer his sentiment with a breathless chuckle of your own, tracing the lines of his face in an achingly tender caress as the last lingering flickers of passion slowly ebb and flow into deep, drowsy contentment. “Such are the spoils of victory,” you breathe fondly. “Though I suppose I should thank you for being such an … enthusiastic participant.”

“Mmm, I think I can manage that.” His eyes slip closed as he winds his arms around you to roll until you’re flush atop his chest, every supple inch of heated skin against skin and your legs tangled together in a sprawl. “You’ve ruined me,” he murmurs softly, reverently against your hair. “And I’ve never been more grateful for anything in my life.”

You hum serenely in agreement, nestling impossibly closer as Lando’s breathing evens out and you both begin to drift into a dozy haze of sated bliss. The warm, hypnotic lull of his heartbeat against your cheek and the delicious ache of well-used muscles is pure nirvana.

In this moment, suspended in time in the afterglow, you can scarcely fathom how you ever existed before Lando barreled into your life and ignited this intoxicating flame of desire, devotion, and bone-deep belonging between you.

His voice, already rough and worn velvet from your passionate exertions, breaks the contented silence once more as he nuzzles against your temple. “Stay with me tonight? God knows I could use a few more hours with you in my arms before we have to brave the real world again.”

A languid smile curves your lips at his soft plea, warmth blooming in your chest. “As if you even need to ask,” you murmur, punctuating the sentiment with a tender brush of your lips across the thundering pulse at the base of his throat. “I’m yours, remember? Any time and any place you’ll have me.”

Lando doesn’t respond further, simply tightens his arm around your waist as he hooks his chin over your head with a low, satisfied rumble.

With his name a breathless vow on your lips, you allow the bone-deep weariness of pure satisfaction to finally pull you under into peaceful oblivion beside the only man who will ever hold the keys to unraveling you so completely in return.

***

The pale moonlight filters through the gauzy curtains of Lando’s posh London flat, casting everything in an ethereal blue-silver glow as you burrow deeper into the plush duvet.

A lazy, spent sort of satisfaction permeates the air in the wake of your earlier lovemaking — though honestly, is there ever a time when you don’t feel utterly cherished and deliciously sated these days?

Lando’s arm is a warm, heavy brand across your waist, the solid plane of his chest pressed flush against your back. You can sense the steady thrum of his heartbeat mellowing into the deep, even cadence of slumber and make to slip out of his embrace, eager to make use of the en-suite facilities. But the moment you shift, his arm reflexively tightens, drawing you impossibly closer as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck with a low, sleepy noise of protest.

“Mmm … stay,” he mumbles groggily against your skin, voice still rough and sweetly wrecked from the way you had him crying out your name mere hours ago.

You huff a quiet laugh at his drowsy insistence, nosing affectionately at his tousled curls. “I’ll be right back, you insatiable thing,” you rasp, carefully extracting yourself from his octopus-like clutches to plant a lingering kiss to his slack, pillow-creased cheek. “Promise I’m not going anywhere without you.”

Lando grumbles something indistinct but doesn’t protest further, already slipping back into the lull of sleep with a final contented sigh muffled against the plush bedding. You take a moment to simply drink in the sight of him sprawled out so unguardedly – all toned muscle and tousled chestnut curls, the crisp white sheets tangling artfully around his hips to offer tempting peeks of tanned skin and lean, powerful thighs.

He’s gorgeous like this, you muse with a soft smile, feeling that oh-so-familiar spark of possessive want begin to simmer low in your belly. A dizzying rush of affection and belonging surges through you as your gaze rakes over the starburst of reddened lovebites peppering his throat and shoulders from where you marked him as yours so enthusiastically earlier.

It’s hard to fathom that there was ever a time you considered your life remotely complete before Lando and his smoldering passion whirlwinded into your world.

Still, you force yourself to tear your eyes away from the alluring scene with a steadying breath, retreating to the en-suite with the promise to return hanging unspoken between you.

By the time you’ve padded back into the bedroom wrapped in one of Lando’s obscenely soft bathrobes, he’s shifted to sprawl across the centerline of the mattress, face half-buried in his pillow and one hand flung haphazardly above his head. The rakish sprawl of bedsheets and moonlight across his sculpted form renders him a vision of absolute debauchery and desire — not that you’d have him any other way.

You can’t resist ghosting your fingers in a featherlight caress along the hard ridges of his spine and the lean cords of muscle defining his broad shoulders, relishing the shiver that chases itself visibly across his skin. “You awake, darling?”

Lando grunts an affirmation, languidly cracking one eye to regard you through the tangled fringe of lashes fanning across his cheekbones. There’s a hint of wry amusement laced through the rough velvet of his voice when he speaks. “Was starting to worry you’d wandered off again without me.”

“Never,” you reply instantly, warmth threading through the simple avowal. Moving to settle in the vee of his splayed thighs, you trail a meandering path of openmouthed kisses along his lower back, nosing aside the rumpled sheet to expose the swell of his ass with deliberate intent. “You know I’m defenseless against this gorgeous body of yours.”

A low, approving rumble vibrates up from Lando’s chest at your blatant appreciation, his hips giving an unconscious, languid roll as your lips brush across the dimples at the base of his spine in a teasing caress. But then, quite suddenly, the boneless sprawl of his limbs seems to tense as a perceptible aura of hesitance permeates the desire charging the air between you.

You immediately feel the subtle shift in his energy, that jarring note of dissonance plucking disquietingly at your intuitive senses — the same ones that have always allowed you to tune into the deepest vibrations of the soul with preternatural clarity. Without pause, you abandon your sensual exploration of his body to settle beside him once more, cradling the sharp line of his jaw in your palm and wordlessly coaxing him to turn and meet your gaze.

“Hey … talk to me, love,” you murmur, the soothing tone of your voice blanketing the sharp edged undercurrent of uncertainty in its rich, soothing folds. “Where’d you go just now?”

Lando exhales a soft, humorless puff of breath, worrying his plush lower lip between his teeth in that adorable yet concerning tell of his whenever something is weighing on that mind.

For a long stretch, he studies your features in silence, the only sounds in the room the ambient thrum of the city beyond the flat’s walls and the occasional muted honk of a passing car in the night below. Just when you’re about to prompt him again, the words finally tumble out in a low, slightly self-conscious rush.

“You … you don’t take on other clients like me, do you?” You feel him tense further under your palm, discomfited energy practically vibrating off him in waves. “Not that I’m judging, honest! It’s none of my business what you do or who you see for work, but I just ...” He breaks off on a frustrated exhale, jaw ticking in that way that tells you he’s holding back a tidal wave of emotion beneath his placid surface.

A dawning realization begins to unfurl in your chest, intimately familiar with the root of Lando’s inner turmoil. This brilliant, sensitive, achingly beautiful man — the force on the racetrack who melts into the most sweetly vulnerable creature behind closed doors whenever you bestow him with the full force of your focused attention. Of course he would crave that intensity of focus, that promise of belonging solely to him in your most intimate embraces, no matter how irrational or paradoxical the notion seems from the outside looking in.

Slowly, carefully, you reach up to frame that beloved face between your palms, silently urging Lando to hold your unwavering gaze as the words he needs to hear spill forth in a low, resonant murmur.

“Do you remember when this first started between us? How completely you surrendered yourself to me in the most profound way?” You begin, watching his pupils slowly dilate and a nearly imperceptible tension begin to unwind from his shoulders at the timbre of your voice. “The absolute trust it takes to let someone delve that deep into the most sacred corners of your psyche … to share your fears, insecurities, and unvarnished essence without artifice?”

Lando swallows thickly, nodding once in a jerky affirmation as the words seem to bypass his conscious mind and resonate somewhere deeper. You card your fingers soothingly through his disheveled curls, allowing your touch to lull and ground him as you continue in that same low, hypnotic cadence.

“That depth of surrender and connection is not something that can simply be replicated or transposed onto others, Lando. What we have is singular. Untouchable.” You press your forehead to his, registering the faint hitch in his breath as you drink in every last nuance of his features. “My gift has always been to help unravel the truths someone tries to bury, follow the threads that tether the conscious mind to something vaster and more primal. But with you ...”

A low exhale ghosts across his parted lips as your thumb traces the sharp line of his cheekbone in an achingly tender caress. “With you, it was as if the universe aligned to allow me to shed every last shred of protection and pretense until there was nothing left but the purest vibration of my very essence resonating in time with yours. Do you understand?”

Lando’s gaze is a hazy swirl of naked emotion and trust, drinking in your every syllable with the desperate reverence of a man being offered the world’s greatest truth. “Like … like the truest version of ourselves was always there, simply waiting to recognize its other half,” he rasps, the words seeming to bypass his conscious faculties entirely as he remains held captive in the depths of your connection. “Two souls spilling into one another.”

“Precisely.” Your lips curve in the ghost of a smile, a bone-deep sense of belonging and contentment settling over you both like a well-worn hug. “In that moment, you became an inextricable part of me, and I of you. Something that profound doesn’t simply … vanish, or dim, or lessen with time and distance.”

You allow the weighted truth of your decree to resonate between your joined bodies for a suspended heartbeat, cradling Lando’s face as if mapping every plane and angle with worshipful precision.

“I could help countless others access their potential or tap into dimly lit corners of their awareness,” you continue. “But there will only ever be one person to whom I belong in that elemental way. One person who will ever see this side of me and who lays the very fabric of their being bare without reservation.”

A tremulous exhalation shudders across Lando’s lips at the finality in your tone, as if every lingering filament of doubt or uncertainty has finally dissolved in the face of your avowal. One of his hands comes up to splay across the small of your back, fingers flexing and bunching the silky material of your robe in a desperate clutch as if you’re the last solid comfort in a churning sea.

When his eyes slip open once more, they’re practically luminescent with a naked heat that sends a delicious curl of answering want unfurling through your core.

“Show me,” he rasps, the simple entreaty laced with an edge of heart-stoppingly vulnerable need. “Please, Y/N …. I need to feel you completely.”

In the stillness that follows, the only sounds are your mingled exhales and the thunderous gallop of racing pulses filling the air with resonant verses of sin and worship. Then, with an instinctual roll of your hips, you’re slotting one toned thigh between Lando’s splayed legs and sealing your mouth over his in a filthy, searing kiss that instantly has his back arching off the rumpled sheets with a muffled groan.

There’s nothing tentative in the wanton slide of your lips and tongues, every flick and brush and gentle graze brimming with carnal intent and the unspoken promise to strip one another to the very marrow.

Lando surrenders to the sweet onslaught eagerly, hands skating across your body in frantic, searing paths until the belt of your robe finally falls away and he can palm the bare curves of your ass to grind you more fully against his rapidly stiffening length.

You break away with a sharp gasp at the delicious friction, mouth immediately seeking out the fevered juncture of Lando’s neck and shoulder to mouth searing patterns across the taut tendons there. “You want my gift?” You rasp against the thrumming pulse under your lips, rolling your hips in a languid, purposeful grind that drags the already swollen head of his cock through the slick evidence of your arousal with tantalizing friction.

Lando’s response is a low, breathless stream of curses and encouragements, blunt fingernails raking distractedly down the length of your spine in a way that sets every nerve alight with tingling sparks of pleasure-pain.

Allowing him to nip and suck intoxicating patterns across your collarbones, you dip your hand between your bodies until you can wrap your fingers around his rigid shaft, dragging the pads in a devastatingly slow glide from base to tip.

The groan that punches from Lando’s chest at your touch is guttural, hips pumping restlessly into the tight channel of your fist. “Fuck, yes … want all of you, every bloody inch ...”

His words seem to bypass your conscious mind entirely. You’re suddenly blisteringly aware of each and every point where your bodies join: the heated crush of his straining cock in your palm, the delicious friction of your slick folds catching and dragging against the cut grooves of his abdomen with each gyration of your hips, the teasing rasp of his calloused palms as they roam hungrily across your skin.

It’s as if Lando’s very being calls out to yours in an ancient tongue, rendering coherent thought utterly obsolete as you simply feel — the pulsing, cosmic certainty of your connection amplifying every tingling spark of friction and delirious drag of skin against skin until your entire world narrows to the joining of your shared potential cresting higher with each and every move.

“Now,” you grate out, vision whiting out as your climax detonates in a blinding supernova behind your navel — an ecstasy so transcendent that you’re certain it scorches across the very fabric of your soul. Your fingernails sink vicious crescent moons into Lando’s bicep as you arch against him with a keening cry.

“Y/N!” His hoarse shout fractures on a broken whine, muscles tensing as the first searing pulse of his orgasm floods your belly, joined soon by rich, viscous ropes of white heat that leave you both totally undone.

You simply clutch at each other through the relentless waves, Lando’s teeth sinking into the juncture of your neck and shoulder as if urging you to brand him irrevocably as yours.

When the explosive rapture finally begins to ebb, you both sag into the tangled bedding in a limp sprawl of sweat-slicked limbs and trembling aftershocks, chests heaving in perfect synchronicity as you cling to one another like lost mariners adrift in some fathomless sea.

You can’t even begin to discern where your consciousness begins and Lando’s ends — your very essences having merged so irrevocably that you simply exist as a singular vibration pulsing through the cosmos.

It takes several long, suspended moments for the concept of individual awareness to gradually seep back into the edges of your being, though even then it feels blasphemous to separate yourself from the soul-deep profundity of what you’ve just shared.

Finally, with a shuddering breath, you manage to crack your eyelids enough to drink in the sight of Lando gazing back at you with that same awed wonder etched across his beloved features.

“Bloody fucking hell,” he rasps, the words little more than a throaty whisper ghosting against your over-sensitized skin. “That was … there aren’t even words, are there?”

In lieu of responding, you simply wind your arms around him with a tremulous exhale, hooking your chin over the solid comfort of his shoulder and allowing his clean, earthy scent to wash over you like a balm.

In this place, suspended between bliss and awareness, there’s no need for words or platitudes. You can feel Lando’s very essence thrumming in tandem with yours — the inherent recognition of your twin flame and sacred belonging reverberating on a molecular level.

Here, entangled in the vital warmth of shared trust and intimacy, all that exists is the boundless and the eternal.

[dduane]

Salutations and good wishes to you. I am an Indie Author seeking to go Pro. Some good advice and guidance might help minimise the mountain of my anxiety about doing this. I know you got your start with fanfiction, but did you find a publisher/agent through that door? [lots sneer at these days. Still] How many rejections did you suffer before you found your place in the literary world? Thanks for your time and sorry for bothering you <3

Hi there! And don't sweat it: this is no bother.

I have to apologize in advance, because my own career arc isn't likely to serve as much of a good example. In terms of how I got into this business, I'm a serious outlier.

Quickest and easiest to discuss: my agent and I got together after my first book was already bought and published. (Which back in the day was seen as a good enough way to go forward, and then still entirely possible.) He was recommended to me by one of my editors, as—like me—he was just getting started in the business: a likely-looking newcomer then scouting new talent. We met up and chatted, and it seemed to both of us that we'd be a good fit for each other. After forty-odd years of working together, we still are.

About the fanfic: (Adding a cut here so as not to carpet people's dashes with wall-to-wall text...)

What writing all that fic did for me—from about age sixteen onwards—was give me a whole lot of practice in getting the initial garbage associated with a story written and out of the way. Best to admit it here: we all have plenty of crap writing in us. And yeah, even long-term professional writers do. Whether you're at the beginning of your career or right in the middle of it, this is what "zero drafts" are for. You tell yourself the story, first time out... and routinely at this stage a lot of what proves to be unusable stuff emerges, and can be discarded in rewrite. (Of course crap writing can also emerge without warning in the later stages of a project, but there are many reasons for that, all beyond the scope of this discussion.) And you learn even more from reworking the material after you've gotten rid of the dross.

During the period when I was executing what might have been, oh, half a million words of fanfic—Trek originally, and then LoTR—and while reading a whole lot of everything, as I'd been doing since I was first allowed to go raid the town library by myself at age eight—I learned a fair amount about writing without realizing it. Some of it was simply about writing inside a set of rules. (Which I hadn't been doing previously: between eight and sixteen I was writing original fiction, mostly fairy tales.) Naturally in fanfic you have to obey the laws of whatever universe you're working in... or even if you wind up flouting them consciously, you do have to be conscious of them. But this work also led me to something that I hadn't really spent a lot of time thinking about: the concept that fiction writing as a whole had rules. I realized I'd better find out what those were.

The best stuff I found out during this period was what I picked up by direct example from other writers, whom I'd immediately start imitating and then sort of leave by the wayside when I found others I liked better; at which point I'd start imitating them. (This being a great way to learn and hone new skills, and to start getting a sense of what a writer's "voice" is and can come to mean. I think every writer does this, to some extent: because it's really, really tough to learn how to write without reading. And the more extensively the better.)

I have to emphasize here, BTW, that the fanfic that came out of me as I started slogging up this learning curve was all almost uniformly terrible. All of it, mercifully, along with my earliest original fiction, is gone now: long since burnt, shredded, composted under many layers of time. Trust me, it's just as well. Gah was it awful! Nobody else ever saw the stuff, for which I thank great Thoth every time I think about it. ...What's interesting, too, in its way, was that I didn't even know that what I was doing was fan fiction. I had as yet no contact with any kind of organized fandom, and it would be a long time yet before "online" was invented. I was working in utter isolation, unaware that anybody else might have been doing the same thing. (And it's difficult to describe the sense of astonishment and joy that hit me the first time I went to an SF convention, saw fanzines for the first time, and found out that I was not alone. All unsuspecting, I'd stumbled onto one of my tribes.)

But somewhere along the line, as the years went by—as I finished high school and went to college, and then from there to nursing school, and graduated and started working as a psychiatric nurse, and kept on writing—at some point, as I started writing original fiction again, as well as fanfic, the quality of the output began to improve. The combination of constant practice and voracious reading of better writers outside my chosen genre was slowly having an effect. Trusted friends who saw this later material started saying, "This isn't bad, you should try to get it published!" But since none of these folks were writers, I didn't pay too much attention to their opinions.

I did pay attention, though, when my good friend and mentor David Gerrold said something similar on reading my first novel in 1976. And when that was bought by the first publisher who read it, I had to admit he might have had something there.

This too, though, is unfortunately also a way I'm an outlier: I haven't had a lot of rejection. (Even in my TV work, where rejection is pretty much the rule rather than the exception.) Speaking very generally, just about anyone I've pitched something to in the prose market has bought it—or if they didn't like the idea I came in with, they've immediately said "But would you like to do this instead?" And often enough, what they've offered or suggested has been something that sounded like fun. That's how I wound up doing the Star Trek: Rihannsu books, for example: they were "instead of" a Romulan dictionary. Paramount essentially ringfenced an entire AU-area of Trek and gave it to me to play in, which struck me at the time as amazing. And continues to do so.

Now all this may make me sound almost unfairly lucky. But things do tend, slowly or quickly, to balance out. Over time the universe has made up for its relative kindness at the rejection end of things by making sure I knew plenty about the non-rejection forms of writer-career pain: projects from which I was not rejected but which went terribly wrong (wheels come off a huge deal just before signing, promised actors or directors fail to materialize...), projects where I did the work but didn’t get paid, or where I was brought on board and then got fired/ghosted unreasonably or for no reason at all, or sometimes (mortifyingly) for quite good reason. And let's not forget how, as what could seem a very pointed shot across my bow when my career-vessel was just pulling out of port, half the print run of that very-much-buzzed-about debut novel wound up being pulped in the warehouse because another, far better-established writer's new book needed the pallet space that mine had been taking up. (insert rueful smile here) Believe me, entropy is running, and will catch up with you one way or another. So make yourself as ready for it as you can.

I don't mean to increase your anxiety. Yet that said: you're preparing to enter a business in which, for a freelancer, at least some level of anxiety is more or less part of the basic ground of being. You are going to have to develop ways of dealing with the everyday forms of that to keep it from routinely derailing your work.

I find it helps a little if you can come to consider this as a modern form of Going On An Adventure. Good things will happen; bad things will happen; and all of these will be in service of building your career. Think of yourself as being on a quest.

Your job now becomes the business of suiting up with the best equipment and advice you can find (ideally not from outliers like me). The web is full of useful pages on subjects such as how to query and how to find an agent.

Here are links to some.

Compare these resources one against another to see how their different kinds of advice seem to stack up, and which ones are the most congenial for you.

Then use this data to start drawing your personal roadmap across the terrain. Get as clear as you can in your own mind about what you're trying to get out of being in this business: what kind of writing you want to do and what results you want to produce. Then set out, redrawing your road map as necessary as you keep moving forward through the new terrain.

And I wish you good fortune on the journey! (Because luck, as you can see from the above, can definitely be part of this... but fortune favors the prepared.)

Meanwhile, get out there and have a blast. :)

[livesincerely]

[bits & bobs] common knowledge

aka the ‘Jack didn’t know they were dating’ fic

00000

One of the last things that gets packed⁠—right up there with the wifi router, the stuff for the bathroom, and Jack’s good pillow⁠—is the calendar. Davey carefully peels it from its place of honor on the front of the fridge, almost the whole of April carefully x-ed out.

“The 29th is on Friday,” he notes as he tucks it carefully away, smiling softly. “We should try and do something.”

“Dave, we are up to our ears in fuckin’ boxes,” Jack complains from his spot on the floor, a roll of tape sitting on his chest as he attempts to become one with the carpet. “We ain’t gonna get our deposit back if we ain’t outta here before the first.”

“You were out of town on a contract last year and the year before that we both had the flu,” Davey complains. “It’d be nice if we could actually do something to celebrate this year.”

It’s at this point that Jack realizes he has no idea what the fuck Davey’s talking about.

“Dave,” he says. “What the fuck are you talkin’ about?”

“The 29th,” Davey says, like that alone should be enough of an explanation.

“What’s so special about the 29th?” Jack asks.

Davey frowns⁠. And not just his Jack, you dumbass frown, but the full-blown, pinched-mouth, brow-furrowed, Jack, this isn’t funny, stop it frown that makes makes Jack’s soul want to shrivel up and die whenever it’s pointed his way.

So, Jack pivots. Hard.

“I’m kiddin’,” he lies quickly, alarm bells blaring behind his eyes. What the fuck is on the 29th? “‘Course we can do somethin’. What about dinner at that Italian place we saw on the corner? It looked like a nice joint.”

Davey’s expression clears.

“God, I would kill for some tiramasu,” he says with a wistful sigh.

“Hopefully, it won’t come to that,” Jack laughs, more relief than anything. “I’ll call in the mornin’, see if they take reservations.”

“Perfect,” Davey says, with a beaming smile that makes Jack’s heart lurch for entirely different reasons. “It’s a date.”

“Yeah,” Jack says weakly. “It’s a date.”

00000

Jack panics.

Well, first he calls the restaurant and makes a reservation for two at 7pm.

But then, he panics.

He calls Katherine first, which turns out to be less than useless.

“Can you please stop cackling for three seconds and fucking help me?” Jack demands into the speaker, tugging at his hair in frustration.

But Kath just laughs and laughs until Jack hangs up on her in a huff. After about ten minutes, he calls her back—she’s still laughing.

He tries Tony next.

“You’re such a fucking moron,” Tony says, after sitting in dead silence for so long that Jack pulled the phone away from his ear to make sure the call hadn’t dropped. “I genuinely don’t understand how Davey’s put up with you for so long. I should send him a medal. Or maybe a fruit basket.”

“Quit with the wise cracks and help me,” Jack demands. “Davey’s, like, super fucking excited about this dinner an’ if I don’t figure out what the hell we’re supposed’ta be celebrating, he’s gonna kick me out before we even get moved in.”

“More like he’s gonna dump your dumbass and find someone who can actually remember an anniversary,” Tony snarks.

“He ain’t gonna— I’ve told you a thousand times, we ain’t like that,” Jack says, louder than he means to, flushed and flustered.

There’s another long, judgmental silence.

“Please seek professional help,” Tony says, flatly incredulous. “You are so beyond me, you’re orbiting fucking Saturn, Jackaboy—“

Jack hangs up on him too.

00000

“Are you upset?” Jack asks tentatively.

“I’m still deciding,” Davey says in a thin, even tone that really doesn’t bode well.

….

“Jack,” Davey murmurs, close enough that he can feel the whisper of his breath against his cheeks. “Apparently you haven’t noticed, but we’ve been dating for years. Tomorrow is our three-year anniversary.”

Jack, who had been swaying towards the warmth of Davey’s body, towards the promise of a kiss, freezes dead in his tracks. “What?”

But Davey just smiles. “Three years,” he repeats calmly.

“No, no, I heard you the first time, I jus’…” Jack shakes his head, hard, as if that with somehow make any of what’s happening make any kind of sense. “What?”

“When’s the last time you had sex with anyone but me?” Davey prompts—impossibly patient, all things considered. “Or went out on a date? Gave someone your number?”

“Not in fuckin’ ages,” Jack sputters, offended at the very thought. “You an’ me, we’ve got a good thing goin’. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“You wouldn’t cheat on me?” Davey specifies, tilting his head.

“Course not!”

“Why would it be cheating if we aren’t together?” Davey asks, pointedly.

Jack stares at him, trying to find the riddle hidden in Davey’s question. Because… Because…

“Oh,” he says blankly.

Davey laughs, curling his hands around Jack’s waist. “Oh,” he agrees.

“Three years?” Jack asks weakly.

“Jackie,” Davey sighs, apparently realizing that Jack needs this spelled out to him. “We live together. We share a bedroom. We spent last Christmas at your mom’s house and you introduced me to Charlie’s kids as ‘Uncle David’.”

“Oh,” Jack says again, because it really bears repeating. “How the hell have you managed to put up with my dumbass for three fucking years?”

“It probably helps that I’m madly in love with you,” Davey says, rolling his eyes even as another soft smile curls over his lips.

“Huh,” Jack says. It’s maybe not the best response, but it’s honestly a miracle he manages to say anything at all.

“You’re in love with me too,” Davey helpfully informs him.

“Well, I knew that part,” Jack huffs. Then, “How did you know that?”

“Because I know you,” Davey says, lacing their fingers together. “But feel free to say it aloud any time you like.”

“I love you,” Jack murmurs.

Davey’s smile is like the first days of spring: bright like sunshine, full of promise and full of hope.

And the taste of his kiss is even better.

[tgmsunmontue]

More than movie magic... 3/24

Hangster AU. Explicit (eventually). Jake is a Hollywood actor and Bradley is a stunt coordinator. Jake's about to make a few self-discoveries.

ONE TWO

THREE

                “Have you seen this?”

“What?” Bradley asks, looking up from where he’s doing his stretches; they’re meat to be practicing parkour today. Natasha gives him an eye roll and he takes the proffered phone from her outreached hand, gives her a look when he sees Jake Seresin's face paused on the screen.

                “Do I want to watch this?” Bradley asks her, because he knows his little crush didn’t go unnoticed,

                “Yeah you do. It’s only about thirty seconds. You've got a fan...”

                “What?”

                “Just watch it.”

                He presses play and it’s a promo interview for the film which is due to come out in about six weeks. It’s been over a year since he worked on it, worked with Jake, and he may have followed Jake on a couple of social media platforms just to stay up-to-date on his whereabouts. Not that he trusts them, too used to false trails sometimes being laid by Mav. But there are still the pretty pictures, and Jake Seresin is definitely a pretty picture. He turns up the sound and ignores Natasha’s snort of amusement.

                “So, Jake, there was a lot of stunt work in this movie. Did you have to prepare for it in any particular way?”

“I had to prepare for the physical presentation aspect of the role and look good with my shirt off, but in terms of stunts, well. No. I did as much as I was allowed, but Bradshaw and his team are very good and very dedicated about ensuring no-one gets hurt on set. I wasn't deemed experienced enough for a lot of the particular stunt work involved.”

“That’s a shame. Maybe you need to do a movie where you can tap into your experience doing rodeo.”

                “Yeah, maybe. Can you imagine the insurance required though?”

The studio audience laugh and Bradley decides he needs to find out what kind of rodeo Jake did exactly, because there isn’t any mention of him doing any of that type of stuff now, which makes sense given how busy he is as an actor. He misses the next question the interviewer asks, but his attention is on Jake anyway;

                “Bradley, uh, Bradshaw, is very good at what he does. He kept everyone performing the stunts incredibly safe.”

                “Look at him getting all flustered about using your first name,” Natasha says, poking him in the shoulder and Bradley thinks she might have a point.

                Hmm.

                Interesting.

                Later that night he finds the interview again and rewatches it. He’s well aware of the image that is crafted for actors in Hollywood, the careful dissemination of information and pictures released in order to create a narrative. He grew up watching it all and already knew he didn’t want to be a part of it, at least not front and center like actors are. Of course he’s still working in the industry and has helped formulate parts of those narratives. Jake was not born to parents who worked in Hollywood.

                There was a time before, a time when Jake was maybe captured on film before his image was carefully maintained and presented to the world and he wants to see it, needs to see it. Of course it feels a little skeevy to be searching for old videos but he can’t find it in himself to care. He could say he’s seeking a professional point of view on exactly what Jake’s past experience is but no, he’s simply curious as to what the interviewer was referring to.

                There are lots of videos. Whole channels dedicated to Jake Seresin’s days as an up-and-coming rodeo star before he was scouted to audition for his first role at the age of seventeen. There are compilations. Some are set to music and the comments make him remind himself to not read any more comments, even if he does agree with them.

                Fucking hell.

FOUR

[somesecretpie]

I've been receiving a lot of asks in my inbox that I don't want to answer because they are essentially the same and I don't wanna flood my tumble with repeat messages. So this is kind of going to be a "general answering my asks."

1.) To all the folks that told me that they liked my OCD comic and that it helped them in some way, thank you so much. I read your message and it made me very happy. I love all of you, stay strong and good luck!

2.) To all the folks asking me whether or not they have OCD and giving me a detailed list of their symptoms, I am not a mental health professional. I cannot diagnose you with any mental health condition over the internet from a little blurb of information. I would be essentially responding the same thing to each one: visit the IOCDF website for information about OCD. Try checking out this page in particular for a list of mental health conditions commonly mistaken for OCD/that share symptoms with OCD. And if you are struggling, seek professional help or talk to a counselor if you are able to. And generally, be careful with self-diagnosis. I am not against well researched self-diagnosis on principal and I think it can be very useful (especially to people that don't have a lot of money) but fear can definitely cause you to jump to conclusions (usually the worst conclusions.) I've self-diagnosed myself with brain tumors, stomach cancer, and a whole lot of other things with little evidence but my own fear. When you read these informational pages, try to do it with a clear mind. And refrain from reading them over and over. Just once or twice. Alright? Alright.

I did answer one of these asks because it seemed a bit severe and I actually did think I could say something useful that wasn't on the IOCDF website but I am not going to answer the other ones. I hope you understand.

3.) To all the folks asking me if their fictional character they have made with OCD is accurate and/or problematic and giving me detailed descriptions of them or asking permission to write a character with OCD: Lol. Lmao.

Okay but really: I appreciate your questions and want to give you a nice pat on the head for trying to write accurately about a condition that is so widely misunderstood. Sincerely, thank you. But once again, I'm gonna just refer you to the IOCDF website for more information on OCD. Because I don't want to fill up my tumblr with a bunch of these. Hope you understand.

Generally though…all of your characters seem …just fine? Yeah they all seem fine. If you feel like need permission to write a character with OCD, you have my permission. Here you go. I am handing you a pass.

The bar for writing OCD characters is so low. It’s underground. If you know what OCD even is, you’re already doing better than most writers. I guess if I can give you one peice of advice: don’t write the OCD as some kind of superpower. It doesn’t give people super detective skills or make people good at math. There is literally nothing positive about it. Characters with OCD can be badass and awesome of course, but not because of their OCD.

If you really want my specific opinion about your blorbo, you can always message me rather than sending me an anon ask. I promise I will not think you are cringe and I might even answer if I am bored.

Have a nice day!

[void-ink-studios]

Word to the Manager

In which Orbo's long deserved ass beating is finally wrought. The Organizer has some plausibly deniability, don't worry. It's just a friendly chat.

:)

Enjoy!

Word Count: 2,000

Prismo felt bad about waiting for Scarab to be sleeping before heading out. He couldn't let the beetle try and stop him. He'd say a lot of things. It was unprofessional. Let the Higher Ups handle it. Don't make waves.

Prismo, to put it bluntly, didn't give a shit. Screw professionalism. Screw making waves. He had a mission.

At least he remembered to leave a note.

Scarab,

I'm heading out. Business from the Organizer. Gave me a body. Will be back soon. Left you some puzzles. Enjoy.

Love, Prismo

Yeah, that was good enough. And only partially a lie. He stretched his arms, feeling his dormant magic tingling in his fingers.

He beamed himself to the Organizer's office, his face firm and steady.

"Ah. Prismo. Good day."

"Good day, Organizer, ma'am."

The two gods stared at each other in tense silence.

"...You know why I'm here, ma'am."

"I do."

Prismo held a firm stare. If someone told him he'd be staring down one of the highest of the pantheon with resolute determination, he'd have laughed nervously and disregarded it.

Now though?

He was on a mission. And the Organizer could either be helpful or a hindrance, but it was being complete. Today.

"I can't say I recommend this course of action, Prismo."

"Are you going to stop me?"

"I wouldn't have authorized a use of your body if I was going to. But, for the record, what is your intention in visiting my assistant. And this is for the record."

Prismo caught what she was hinting at. He smiled.

"I'm simply here to resolve some differences."

"Hmm." She was quiet for a moment before pulled out a sheet, writing something down, and stamping it. "Very well. Here, you will need this. Lower your head please."

Prismo nodded, bowing slightly. She placed a crystal chain headband around the crown of his head, a strange magic surrounding his mind.

"It is very easy to get lost in the Archive. This will help guide your way, if you know what it is you seek. Don't lose it."

"Thank you, ma'am."

He straightened back out as a door besides the desk slid open. A wafting smell of dust poured out, but it hardly phased the Organizer.

"He'll be back there. Somewhere. Good luck."

Prismo nodded, running fingers through his curls as he stepped to the dark doorway.

"Oh, Wishmaster?"

He looked up at her. The two held eye contact for a few beats.

"I care about Scarab. Very much. While I defer to the Judge's ruling, I can't help but think about what the Observer reported."

Prismo blinked. The Organizer looked back. He nodded. They understood each other.

He stepped into the Archive.

Prismo had never seen the Archive before this moment. In fact, very few beings in the multiverse had seen even a glimpse of it.

The stacks of filing cabinets seemed to extend forever upwards, into the sky. A cosmic storm raged swirled above them, the stacks disappearing into the swirling stars. Rafters and ladders crisscrossed like an intricate spider web, connecting everything into what must be the more organized chaos imaginable. The door ground into its frame as it slid shut behind the Wishmaster.

Idly, Prismo opened a cabinet, flipping through the strangely thick folders. Random names, in languages long dead, were stamped on the tabs. Name after name after name.

The crystal sitting on Prismo's forehead lit up, projecting an orb of white light a few inches in front of his face.

He shut the cabinet, looking around the random hallways, seemingly endlessly extending into the far-off background.

"Geeze... Srabs and the Organizer wasn't kidding. Endless Archive, huh?"

The orb in front of him seemed to glow a bit bigger and brighter, depending on the direction he faces. He privately thanked the Organizer for her handy little trinket and set off.

The entire Archive smelled of dust, rain, and faintly of ozone. Distantly above him, the stary clouds rumbled with thunder. He could almost find it peaceful, if not for the occasional distant hiss and growl echoing from... somewhere.

Hmm...

As he walked, he watched the random eyes and hands that would occasionally fly in, flip through a cabinet, and fly back out with a folder in hand. Some cabinets seemed constantly open, pens constantly writing new pages. It was like watching someone's life, being lived right before his eyes, in the most clinical way possible. He wondered if this was connected to the Observer in any way. The Organizer called him her brother, didn't she?

His ponderings were interrupted quite abruptly, the ground shuddered, making the Wishmaster hold on as the floor seemed to rotate. He looked up, seeing the walkways and rafters change with a loud, echoing groan, settling into new paths.

He blinked, eyes wide as the world settled again.

It was a marvle the Organizer could find... well, anything in here. He made a note to get her a mug or something. Maybe a nice houseplant. Glob knows she deserved it.

The white light started to turn red, and he heard the distant muttering of a certain orb. He took a steadying breath. He prepared himself.

He turned the corner and saw Orbo. Trying and failing to find some specific folder, several others stacked behind him on a cart.

"Orbo."

The Star Core yelped, spinning on his axis for a second, before sighing in relief at the sight of Prismo.

"Prismo! Oh, Prismo, thank Glob!"

Prismo raised an eyebrow, his arms folded in front of him, expression unreadably.

"Did they send you down here too? What is happening to this pantheon, mate? What'd you do to end up here?"

"I'm not being punished. I'm here on my own free will. Was looking for you, actually."

Orbo's expression lit up. There was hope in his smile, barreling towards the Wishmaster with glee. Prismo took a step back to avoid getting bowled over. "Prismo, you gotta get me outta here mate! Look, this place makes no sense! They expect me, me, to organize this nonsense? And, I think.... I think there's something in here with me. It's following me. Watching."

Prismo heard the desperation in his voice. Something in his gut flickered. Was this a good idea...? Did he really need to add to this punishment?

"Maybe the Organizer's just watching over you."

"Yeah, watching me suffer. She had the gall to pull me into her office, into court before the Judge, and stick me here. And for what? I was perfectly in my rights! It was signed, I had the right to punish Scarab however I saw fit!"

The spark Prismo felt pretty much immediately died.

"So, you saw nothing wrong with what you did to him?"

"Did to him? Mate, that was my right as his boss. Shouldn't have been so disrespectful. Ungrateful."

Prismo stared in complete disbelief.

"Man. You really don't know how to take a hint, do you?"

"What's that?"

"Actually, no, it's not even a hint at this point. It's a big neon sign that you can't see apparently! Orbo, you're a monster! Like, as someone who has an actual monster aspect, you are a monster."

Orbo sputtered, indignant.

"Me?! I'm the monster here? Yeah, sure, the Star Core with these rad shades is the monster. Not that skittering little beast pretending to be-"

Prismo didn't let him finish. His magic lifted Orbo up into the air, then slammed him back down, face first, into the tiles, making a nice little crater in the floor.

"Prismo-"

"No. You're gonna shut up, and you're gonna listen."

"Mate, I-"

Prismo slammed him against the floor again.

"Shut up. Listen."

The orb made a groaning sound from his crater, but wisely said nothing else.

"Scarab did not deserve what you did you him. He didn't deserve to be humiliated by you. He didn't deserve to be tortured by you."

"I don't think tortured is-"

Prismo slammed him into the floor. "I can keep doing that all day. Shut up. Listen. Or I keep doing that until we find out how deep this floor goes before it's just void."

The orb made no sound, other than a whispery groan. Prismo smirked. Good.

"You tortured him, Orbo. He had nightmares, terrible ones, because of you. You left him with pain and suffering, for hundreds of thousands of years. You understand that? Eternity is a long time, Orbo. And you took all the steps to make his just that extra bit more miserable."

Prismo felt Nightmo bubble in his chest, but he swallowed that down. He wanted to be cognizant for this.

"I can't exactly do what I'd want to do. You don't have limbs to pull apart. The Judge decided this was punishment enough. Scarab seems to think so. But... well, the Judgement Hall failed him enough, I'd say. So. Think of this as a little gift. From me to you, 'mate'."

Prismo might not have his Dreamer's magic, not entirely at least.

But Prismo the Wishmaster was a dream of the greatest human wizard to have ever lived.

Prismo's magic ground and pulled at the Star Core's body, manipulating the magic that made up his body. It sounded liked it hurt, if the noises Orbo was making was any indication. It was like playing an instrument, plucking on invisible strings. He wondered if the orb could fall apart if he plucked the wrong string.

With one harsh pull, Orbo burst into a violent pop of color, his for destabilizing for a brief moment. He at least offered him the moment for recovery.

"You think you're being watched. Being followed by whatever might be out there, stalking the halls. Well, let me make it more... certain for you."

From his mouth a serpent like Nightmare coiled from his throat, around his arm, and biting into Orbo. He yelped, trying to roll out of the crater Prismo had created, but the serpent continued to take nasty bites out of him.

"Meet your new 'mate'. He hates you as much as I do. He never stops biting. Not until Scarab forgives you, at least. So, who knows when that might be? Have fun. You two are meant for each other."

Orbo yelped, running in circles, trying and failing to outrun (outroll?) his new best friend.

"Have a nice eternity, Orbo. It's only fair, mate."

Prismo turned and started his trek back, whistling to himself.

The Organizer did little but cast a curious glance at Prismo as he emerged.

"Your meeting went well then?"

"Yep."

"I suppose I should not be worried about the slamming sound I heard back there?"

"Just a stack tipping over, ma'am."

"Hmm. Very well. Thank you for your visit, Wishmaster. Do have a good rest of your day. And tell Scarab I said hello."

"Will do. Remember to take a break, ma'am."

"The paperwork never rests, Prismo, and neither do I. I appreciate the sentiment."

Prismo chuckled as he warped himself back to the Time Room.

He grinned as he took in the sight he was greeted with. Scarab had seemingly found the puzzles he left him, as he was meticulously making a picture of a galaxy. From... the inside out?

"Don't most people solve the edges first, Lovebug?"

Scarab jumped, his head snapping up to look at Prismo. "Prismo! There you are!"

"I thought I left you a note!"

"Prismo. 'Business with the Organizer' could not have sounded more vague or ominous."

"Well, I'm fine, and I'm done. C'mon, show me what you have done."

Scarab chirped at him with confusion, but let his attention be turned to the puzzle.

Prismo listen to him explain his strange process, smiling dumbly at him.

Scarab probably wouldn't have approved of Prismo's methods. He'd say the Judge's ruling was enough for him, and that Prismo should let it go.

But Prismo had seen the pain left behind. The pain and fear and anxiety left in Scarab's body, even after hearing of the decision.

He'd tell him what he did. Later. But puzzles came first.

[soaps-mohawk]

also i can’t remember if you’ve touched on this before, but if omega was depressed for an extended period of time (like WAY longer than a few weeks, more like multiple months) how would they get her out of it? because the boys would def go about it a different way than a traditional pack like omega’s family or like an institute would.

i imagine the institutes would probably favor some sort of scruffing and sedation type thing instead of like ,, mental healing but who knows! curious on your thoughts ab that

So, speaking generally, a lot of it kind of depends on what's causing the depression situationally or if it's just caused by chemical imbalances in the brain. If the depression is being caused by a situation, then they'd probably do their best to accommodate or solve what's causing the depression. If it's a splitting of the pack, then they'd likely try sending the omega to the satellite pack to see if they can adjust better there. If there's unrest in the pack that's enough to be affecting omegas that way, then they'll look at things like conflict resolution.

Anti-depressants (and other mental health medications) do exist in the world of CRCB, so regardless of the cause of the depression, if it's lasting longer than a couple weeks and fixing the situational issues isn't working, then the pack will likely seek medical advice and consider things like anti-depressants.

Of course, all of it depends on the pack and how decent they are towards omegas. If the reader had gotten depressed in her family pack, I don't think she would have gotten help, honestly. Her father likely would have pulled the "you're fine, stop being dramatic" type of bs. Of course, it is possible (like in our world) for the depression to worsen if nothing is done and of course, can lead to a tragic ending.

Institutes...it depends on the institute. FIOT wouldn't want the reputation of not caring for their omegas health and having omegas die while enrolled, so they'd put effort into helping their omegas. You can almost guarantee omegas go into depressions at institutes, especially early on after being separated from their family pack. Less...decent institutes might not help depressed omegas either because they don't care or because they don't have the resources to help.

In the case of the reader and the 141, of course things are different. Depending on the situation, like what happened in chapter 23, there's not a lot that can be done sometimes. They obviously can't send the reader out into the field to be around her pack, and they can't just call back whoever is gone if they're in the middle of an important assignment or a deployment.

Obviously they're going to try and help the reader as much as they can, but also they'll go to Dr. Keller and get a professional opinion. Like the queen she is, Dr. Keller can help figure out the best course of action depending on the situation that's making the reader depressed for that long. I can almost guarantee she'd recommend anti-depressants, even just for the short term to help stabilize the reader until the situation improves, or for the long term if it's needed. The guys would be down for it. They trust Dr. Keller, and they want the best for their omega. While they can help to a degree, sometimes it's not enough. That can be hard on betas since the well-being and support of the pack members is part of their natural instincts, and if that's failing, the betas can kind of place blame on themselves, even if they know it's not really their fault. Of course, there's help for that too.

So yeah, that's how that works. I'm half out of it so if this makes zero sense, let me know and I'll come back to it tomorrow.

[satancopilotsmytardis]

Fuck yeah, demon Dabi!

I really like that he got adopted by a community willing to take care of him. I believe that people will always seek out community and I just adore this detail here. The fact that they find a starving child and take him in.

On another note, seeing a feral Dabi would be pretty hot, actually.

Oh, Dabi. He's starving himself for other's approval. He's hurting himself again. And sure, it's different, but is it really? He's hurting himself to prove that he is strong, that he should be taken seriously. My boy :(

"There's [describes how all of the LoV are very unhinged] and Magne" I love this line.

And the found family starts! Shigaraki doesn't want any of his crew to be in less than the best shape they could be in. I really like how you write him as a good boss.

He booked a room at La Venus. Yeah, I'm sure that won't lead to him running into Shigaraki at all. Totally.

And the lingerie shows up! Also, Dabi keeping money tucked away in all of your stories for worst-case scenarios is really nice. Especially since he uses them to help the League after AfO is arrested. It just adds to his character nicely, I think.

Ooooh, flustered Shig! We don't get to see that often. Also, uncomfortable conversation for the win when Shigaraki is very much attracted to Dabi and knows that Dabi can smell it. Lol.

"He isn't supposed to be nice, or god forbid, understanding." Dabi. Dabi, have you ever thought about the fact that you had to deal with the literal scum of society for so long that you have gotten used to being treated as less than human? Because Shig is treating you like a human (well, demon) right now and that is actually the bare minimum. Oh boy.

Dabi is jealous~

That other succubus obviously noticed how interested Shig is in Dabi and felt threatened because they have slept with him before (probably more than once?). Also, the fact that Shig is not at all interested in them while being very much interested in Dabi is amusing.

Shigaraki: "I am going to be professional about this and give Dabi some space so my presence won't make him uncomfortable." Dabi: "You want to fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid."

I wonder if Shig had the scent blockers installed before or after he met Dabi for the first time? Was it just a general idea to use scent blockers in his villain costume as to not get tracked down or did Giran tell him one of the people who want to get in contact is a Succubus and Shig tried to make sure Dabi won't be uncomfortable?

"What if I want to eat you tonight?" "What are your rates?" Shigaraki you are such a simp. "More than worth triple." Oh, do you also want to offer him your still-beating heart on a golden plate? Simp.

Of course Shigaraki would find a way to be sweet even high on venom. He would never want to hurt Dabi by accident.

I really enjoy how you write oral. I think those are some of my favourite fics from you.

Last third of the fic and things are going downhill fast. I'm guessing Dabi only managed to last two months because he was eating so regularly before. Oh, I wonder if the fact that he can't get his fill from anyone else has to do woth the fact that he called Shigaraki his mate? Nah, couldn't be it. Haha, immediately got confirmation for that one.

Okay, but that venom-turned-to-gas attack is cool as fuck. Also, Compress immediately asking to turn taht into marbles just shows how the League is used to having Dabi around. Compress is practical when it comes to stuff like this, he won't judge Dabi when this can be used to give them an advantage (not that he would judge Dabi otherwise, either).

The fact that Dabi has managed to go hungry for this long without going feral really speaks for his self control. I don't remember if you ever answered this, but do demons typically have quirks in this universe? What is the PLFs stance on succubi?

Oh, oh poor Dabi. He was hungry for so long and he tried so hard and he held on for so long. It's no surprise he's slipping. Though taking a chunk out of an already injured Shigaraki does seem counterproductive. Also, that injury is going to be difficult to explain. Especially if there are succubi around, or people who know enough about succubi to know about them going feral.

The abandonment issues are hitting hard again, aren't they? And Shigaraki is such a simp. He had Dabi take a bite out of him and all he can focus on is that Dabi was hurting.

Well, that's a twist. Interesting though! Also, the fact that Shigaraki just immediately ignores everything else to make Dabi feel good. My guy, you are missing part of your shoulder.

Ah, that was a sweet ending. Well, as sweet as you can get with these two. I wonder how the rest of the League reacted? They definitely noticed that Dabi was oit of it for a long time. And I imagine they took the time to read up on succubi, at least on the basics. Did they know he was starving?

Also, an immortal Shigaraki is terrifying, actually. Once heroes find out how he did that, I'm pretty sure they will use the fact that he "owns" Dabi to turn the public even more against him.

Thank you for the story!

Fuck yeah! A long comment!!

Dabi's daddy issues really take a backseat in this one, but they are absolutely still here being a driving force behind his actions in a way I don't even think he's capable of recognizing.

I truly believe that Magne is the most normal member of the League. Oh, she has 47 attempted murders and a temper? Yeah? So what? I would too if i had to deal with transphobia that far into the future while an anthropomorphic washing machine got to run around being one of the top heroes!

Shigaraki has definitely slept with Reo at least twice, however, even if he hadn't slept with Dabi that night, he never would have taken them to bed again. He does not like that Reo tried to stake their claim over him when as far as he was concerned, anything that happened before was just a transaction.

The scent blockers were a part of his costume since his debut! When there are heroes like Hound Dog, it's important to keep things like that covered. But Shigaraki didn't know they were just as effective on demons which is why he said he would be reporting that back to the doctor.

READ HIM FOR FILTH! Look, Shigaraki is so blunt already that I just think if he ever cared enough about something other than his goals, be that another person or just sex flat out, he would be incredibly blunt, earnest, and cringe about pursuing that as well. He does not have a subtle bone in his body.

So in this universe, full-blooded demons do not have quirks, but they do have innate magics and abilities that can sometimes mimic what humans think of as quirks and that can help them stand toe-to-toe with humans even after their evolution. I never had a good chance to bring this up in the Incubus!Shigaraki story, but in the first installment Dabi mentions that he told the rest of the League Decay was a mutation of his ability to eat lifeforce, however Shigaraki was not aware at that time, that was a lie. In actuality, he was born human with demonic blood in his ancestry, and when Decay activated as a child, he was scooped up by AFO who then had Ujiko do a lot of medical experimentation on him until the demon genes activated. From there they waited for him to hit puberty, knowing his memories would be fucked up and gaslighting him the entire time to make sure he thought he was a born demon, to see what kind he would end up being. The fact he ended up being something as weak and low-born as an incubus is why AFO treated him so poorly and encouraged him to starve/feed only on nightmares, since he had already put so much effort into Shigaraki and didn't want to waste him. The fact that Dabi very openly and blatantly has a quirk signals to the world he was human first.

The PLF is a very large organization so it would range from "not racist at all" to "extremely racist" concerning Dabi's and (to a lesser degree) Toga's heritage. In general, given his position in the organization, Dabi would not have to deal with the particularly racist members-- except Geten who, after the incident in Deika, and with his own family's obsession with 'blood purity' would be thoroughly disgusted by Dabi. He would still ask to be put on a squad with the popsicle though, because Dabi is used to that kind of treatment and he wants to keep a close eye on him to make sure he doesn't' ever try to start something.

Shigaraki continues to be a simp, but the fact that he ignored the bite and just kept fucking Dabi is 100% down to the venom. He couldn't have stopped even if he wanted to at that point, and he was just glad that Dabi didn't tear out a vein or artery.

The rest of the League would know they're dating, and kind of had their big reaction to that before the group headed to Deika, but no one else would be able to tell that Shigaraki owns Dabi now unless they tell them, or until it becomes very obvious that Shigaraki is not aging anymore, which he might actually continue to do until he's around 25 or so if the bond determines that's when he would be at his most physically healthy. Overall, I think that they would be happy for them, but be very confused about how in the fuck that works, because the succubi-granted immortality is a very well-kept secret in demon circles to avoid succubi being enslaved again.

So on that same note, the heroes would have no way of knowing what was going on between the two of them for a very, very long time. Especially if Shigaraki does naturally unlock the regeneration quirk of All For One, which would make the longevity Dabi is giving him and his healing look like one and the same. They would also have a theoretical eternity to do what they need to, even if Dabi has already decided he's not going to kill himself to kill Endeavor anymore. Now he gets to take the time and plan for a new revenge. (I'm thinking fighting Shoto and forcing him to use his flames until he accidentally turns into a demon too and forcing Enji to see his perfect prodigy is now a demonic race the whole world looks down on)

Thank you for the comment!

[aajjks]

outfit + belly: https://pin.it/1GPL1jecM

hair: https://pin.it/68KjobIVH

mommy issues!JK

“coming!!” you apply some lip gloss to your lips before checking yourself out in the mirror. it’s a big today and you’re excited to share the big news with seol for the first time. as you leave the apartment, you shut and lock the door before taking the elevator down to ground level where jungkook and seol wait for you inside the car.

“we’re right here, mommy!!!” yells seol as he watches you walk towards them. you get inside the car, put your seatbelt on, and answer all of seol’s questions pertaining to his ‘surprise.’

“we’re here!!” you cheer as you get out the car and help seol out of his carseat. “i don’t want a shot” pouts seol. you laugh “you’re not getting shots, seol. it’s something else, i promise”

as the three of you walk in, you do the usual routine of telling the front desk of your appointment, waiting, and finally getting a room for the ultrasound appointment.

seol sits on jungkook’s lap as the doctor talks to you about how you’ve been feeling lately and he can tell something is wrong. you’re usually anxious and excited but you seem down. even your partner appears to be down in the dumps as well and the only person that’s excited is the little boy.

the doctor applies the cream to your stomach and uses the transducer to see what you’re baby is up to and seol gasps in shock. “mommy? what’s that?” he says and with a smile on your face you say “that’s your baby sister, seol”

“why is she in your stomach?”

“hahaha, i don’t know. that’s just how i’m made”

“wait so i’m a big brother?”

“mhm. you’re a big brother now. aren’t you excited??”

“yeah! she’s so pretty mommy”

you can’t help but laugh.

“look, there’s her foot” says the doctor as they move the transducer around your stomach to show more of your little moon: her hand, her foot, the side of her head. she’s getting bigger and bigger everyday but the doctor is worried.

“your blood pressure is concerning, ms. y/n”

“huh? why?”

“it’s a sign that you’re stressed. very stressed. i’m not sure what’s going on at home but i encourage you both to work things out, seek professional help or it’ll get worse. your baby is fine. she’s healthy, her heartbeat is steady, and she’s moving around just fine. it’s you i’m worried about, ms. y/n. i need you to sleep more, i need you to find techniques to soothe you, do whatever you can to remain calm okay? or you’ll lose the baby or yourself. you too mr. jeon. whatever it is, things will get better. it’ll be alright. no sense in starting over when you’ve made it this far right? you’re a beautiful couple with a beautiful son and a beautiful daughter. i’d hate to see something so beautiful ruined. i want the couple i had when you first got here not this one, okay?”

~🫧

Your blood pressure is concerning and when he hears the doctor tell you about the consequences of it,

it worries Jungkook to no end because he doesn’t want anything bad to happen to you or his daughter.

Yes, you have been stressed, he has also been stressed, but he didn’t realize the consequence of you being stressed out especially when you’re pregnant..

“O-Oh of course you’re right I’m so sorry.. She’s been stressed out because of me and it’s my fault.” He finally admits. He didn’t realize that his behavior would have such a toll on you even though you don’t show it, but your health definitely is.

Jungkook shakes his head in guilt, looking at the screen where your baby is and all he feels is guilt.

“We will definitely work on it because I love the mother of my children very much and I guess I got a little stupid.. I let some thoughts get into my head..” he sighs.

What was he doing? What was he thinking that treating you like this would do, was he really expecting his cold behavior to fix everything?

after you are both done with the doctor, he advises you both to be really careful during this trimester of your pregnancy

Jungkook nods eagerly, he needs to fix everything and tonight he will.

“Mommy when will my sister be here?” Seol is such an excited little boy ever since he found out about his upcoming baby sister.

Jungkook feels a little better when he sees his son being so happy and you’re smiling too. Maybe it’s because of the fact that he admitted his fault in front of the doctor and he hopes that you realize that he’s willing to work this out with you because he loves you so much.

He knows that this is at least he did for you and now he has to do a lot to make it up to you.

Walking back to the car, you three engage in small conversation answering seol’s curious questions about his little sister

The ride back home is peaceful and throughout the ride, Jungkook has been holding your hand, you need him right now, and he needs to man up and be mature

He occasionally squeezes your hand, not wanting to make eye contact with you because he’s so embarrassed.

And he’s nervous too.

When you all get home, Seol goes back into his room to play with his toys, so that gives your partner some time to converse with you.

“Hey yn.. come sit on the couch. I need to tell you something and I think you deserve an apology from me.” He sits on the couch but before that he makes sure to hold your hand and make you sit on it too.

He puts his hand on your stomach, and begins to caress it.. He’s so nervous. He’s so embarrassed. “Uhhh… I’m so sorry. I know that your blood pressure was concerning because of me and I know that I have been behaving so immature with you these days but the truth is that what you said that morning really hurt me.”

He looks into your eyes, but there is a lot of guilt, “I just didn’t feel like you loved me and you’re only sticking around because you’re pregnant with my child…” he admits… his heart feeling heavier.. “I got insecure and I just felt like you’re going to abandon me in the middle of the road and that’s not a good feeling.. I felt that way about our relationship because of your uncertainty…”

[numbknee]

you think kyle needs meds for anxiety?? what’s ssri’s??? elaborate 👀

Sure! SSRIs are "selective serotonin re-uptake inhibitors" and it's a class of medication commonly used for anxiety and/or depression. Some brand names for SSRIs are Prozac, Lexapro, and Zoloft (or the generic names fluoxetine, escitalopram, and sertraline respectively). there's a bunch of other ones but those I think are the most commonly used at least in the US.

I kind of go back and forth with myself about this, but I can see Kyle as the type of person to develop chronic anxiety/generalized anxiety disorder, especially as he gets older and more stressors are added onto his life: school getting harder, relationships getting more complicated, needing to figure out a future career, etc. In the show, we've seen that he's already pretty neurotic to begin with, and he has a tendency to overthink and worry about things much more than his peers would, especially regarding stuff like morality.

He'd probably be really good at hiding his anxiety though, from others or even himself, and be in denial about it for a long time. In the back of his mind, he'd think "Oh well, I guess it's normal for someone to be stressed out all the fucking time like I am. Seriously, look at the world we live in! How could you not be worried about everything?" — all the while not realizing how bad his mental health has gotten and that the degree to which he's stressed out isn't normal.

It would manifest as worsening irritability, sleep problems, poor concentration, and his performance in school or at his job suffering. I feel like he wouldn't seek out professional help unless he reached a hard breaking point, like having a panic attack in public or failing a class because he couldn't sleep before his final exam. Whatever it is, it serves as a wake up call for him and he finally recognizes he needs to do something about it or else he's basically letting his own brain fuck himself over.

I think Kyle is so goal-oriented that once he does decide to seek help, he'd probably get his shit together pretty quickly all things considered. He gets a therapist, finds meds that work for him, and deals with the problem head-on because jeez man, he's got shit to do. He can't afford to keep feeling like shit all the time.

In the context of kyman, Cartman would of course be supportive because he cares about Kyle more than he'll ever admit. He's an asshole at heart so he does like seeing Kyle suffer to some degree, but not like that. And Cartman wants to be the cause of that suffering, not Kyle's own brain being a little shit and taking all the fun out of it. That's fucking lame. So he makes sure that Kyle takes his meds (albeit in the most obnoxious way possible à la my tags on this post) and talks him down when he's overstressed or overthinking and lets him know that he doesn't have to deal with everything on his own because otherwise that would be a gross violation of the bro code AND the boyfriend code. They're a team, goddammit!! "GOD KAHL, stop being a stubborn fucking dickhead and LET ME HELP YEEWWW!!"

Anyway yeah that's my take on Kyle and his anxiety! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[traumasurvivorshelpingsurvivors]

species dysphoria, csa, bullying

name-lucas

i feel like this is weird to say but I get species dysphoria and it feels exactly the same as my gender dysphoria I don’t know if it’s valid since there s a lot of bullying that goes on and people always saying it’s fake or it’s taking away from people with fl gender dysphoria but to me how it feels is it’s the same thing just for something other than gender. ive gotten bullied sm for it even by my own friends and family calling me weird, freak, a furry and just laughing at and making fun of me like im a joke that im afraid of more harassment if i come out to others so im hiding my identity. but it has made me suicidal not only the bullying but also the dysphoria i feel with being nonhuman at least with my gender dysphoria i can make it better by actually changing my body and what i wear but you can’t do that with nonhuman identities obv… i feel like it might’ve been caused by the csa i experienced by adults and older kids bc after that i rmbr my whole personality changed,i behaved more withdrawn socially,scared of others,and identity disturbance, i had anxiety about being left alone with people I didn’t trust. ive always longed for being nonhuman physically like i am mentally. idk if this is even the right place to put this but yeah

Hi lucas,

I'm so sorry about everything you've been through. Honestly I'm rather uneducated about those who identify as nonhuman - I only know a tiny bit. But I do know why for example nonhuman alters exist in a system, and I think the same explanation can be used for why trauma may play a part in someone identifying as nonhuman (but I feel the need to stress that just because trauma may influence this identity doesn't mean that the identity is wrong or should be changed, only if it is doing harm).

Part of how trauma may influence someone to identify as nonhuman could be simply congruent with how they were treated - dehumanized, and some people internalize this to such a depth that it shapes their relationship to their own humanity. But another part is often a kind of dissociation so to speak, where you meta-cognitively observe how your trauma is tied to your humanity, and seek identification in nonhuman entities as a kind of escape from the reality and gravity of that trauma. Also sometimes people who are deeply traumatized by others may gravitate towards fostering relationships with animals over human beings, although of course identifying as nonhuman is a much broader spectrum than identifying as an animal. It's worth noting that there could be more reasons as well, and these reasons may actually have very little bearing in someone's overall nonhuman identity.

I think ultimately, if you could access or afford it, a mental health professional such as a therapist could give you further insights into your nonhuman identity / species dysphoria as well as process and heal from your traumatic experiences. If anyone has any comments or suggestions please feel free to add on. Otherwise, I hope I could help, and let us know if you need anything.

-Bun

[cnco4ever]

Teachers assistant (part 2)

Christopher Velez.

Warnings: none in this chapter.

Suggestions are always welcome.

Thank you for reading 🙏🏼

_____________________________________________

That went well. The students clearly like Mr. Velez and pays attention to his words. Especially the girls. They were practically swooning. I think i'll learn alot from him. I would want my students to listen to me, seek guidance and learn from my tutoring as well. I'll do my absolute best to become the teacher that i so desperately needed myself while growing up. I've decided that i'd like to finish my classes and actually become a licensed teacher instead of just an assistant.

I could even ask Mr. Velez for help. I'll ask him tomorrow before our next zoom class, when he calls. I would be grateful if he would go over my materials, my old papers, the litterature i've chosen to cover and just point me in the right direction. Hopefully with the right attitude, i could learn alot from his teaching techniques.

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

He's calling in a few minutes. I get butterflies just thinking about having his big eyes focusing on me. I put in a little more effort to my looks this morning. It's so unprofessional to act like that, i know, but i would like if he thought good about me. Maybe even be a little smitten by me, cause i'm already a little smitten by him. God it's embarrassing. Get a freaking grip.

BUZZ BUZZ

It's him! "Mr. Velez, good to see you again" i say when i pick up his call. Hopefully he doesn't see straight through my big, fake smile while i try to look professional and not look like a little girl with a silly crush. He laughs "you too Miss. Knight". His smile is so big, that his eyes wrinkles in the corner. He really is handsome. "No cap today?" I ask with a more natural smile. I'm completely at ease with him. "No, not today, but i can put one on if you like?" he has some mischief in his eyes. I can feel the heat rise to me cheeks instantly as i drop my eyes down to the ground. "You decide" i say softly as i look back up at the phone. I take a deep breath and jump right into the unknown, "I would actually like to ask you something, if you're not bussy, Mr. Velez?". His eyes light up in a curious manner, eyebrows raising, urging me to go on. "I've decided to go back to school half time to finish my studies and become a fully educated teacher, but i would like to have you go through some of my materials before i apply again, if you wouldn't mind?" I looks at him waiting. Trying to put on my most professional yet welcoming expression. He looks at me for a few seconds, clearly thinking it over, before breaking into a smile. "Who could say no to you? Of course. I would love to read some of your material. How much time do you have left of your studies?". I exhale the breath i didn't know that i was holding. "i have like a year left, but it's also the most challenging part" i say. I can't stop smiling big. What a relief!

I can see him clicking around his phone. Different color lights shine on his face. "You know what, how about we get together on sunday and i can go over the things that you want me to?" He asks while returning his focus to me on the screen. "Yeah, i would like that very much. Thank you". I wouldn't miss it for the world, but the nerves can't be ignored. "Great" he says. "We'll meet at campus ground then around noon? The benching area". I nod eagerly with the biggest smile ever. "I look forward to seeing you. Lets get this class started then" he says and opens the zoom room for the students.

Two days until our meeting. I need to find all of my papers and go over them before handing them to him. I want him to see me as organised and in control as possible. I need to give him a good impression of me, cause i'm already so impressed of him. He is so well spoken, well prepared and genuinely cares for his subjects. Men that knows what they're doing, affects me instantly, but right now, i'll listen to his smooth voice greeting the students.

[lightlycareless]

First, it hurts— Chapter XXII

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: mentions of abuse, menstruation, cramps, slight mentions of adultery, and overall Y/N having to deal with her emotions once more. (I feel so sorry for her, why can't she catch a break?)

A/N: Hello everyone! I'm back with another chapter, and a reminder!! I'm going onto a break starting this Sunday! Mainly because I have a busy season for my business coming up, as well as the personal need for a break.

As much as I like writing this story, I feel like I need to rest a bit lol I'm starting to feel a bit overworked, so better stop now before it's too late haha

Worry not, I will come back to finish the story! as well as being active here. I just need a break 🥰 so yeah, that's all!

Now, without any further ado, happy reading! 🥰

Masterlist ➸ Chapter 23

Ao3 link.

Forcibly locked away in your room, you attempted to make the best of this situation by simply doing what was expected of you, such as staying in bed, nor performing any physically demanding activities, even drinking whatever tea your staff gave you, with the firm belief that amenability would help rush the pace of things around you and seek Naoaki, as well as to keep you under the radar of the cautious Mariya.

But by the 4th day, your patience was running out. 

And you began to feel frustrated at the assumption that everyone around you was working against you, instead of with you.

Your ladies were not to blame of course, for they were simply following the strict orders of Junko (who was following Naoya’s orders, advised by your doctor). 

But this rationale did nothing in stopping you from feeling the way you did, and as days passed, what was initially brought up as a suspicion, was slowly turning into a reality.

That, of course, was your grievance working against you. 

All too knowledgeable of your previous menstruation, as well as witnessing your suffering first-hand, Mariya, Haruko and Hitomi held nothing but good intentions when it came to you… even when they followed the obnoxious requests of your doctor , who was insistent in getting all of your vital signs recorded for as long as you were bleeding—no doubt partaking in the Zen’ins obsessive enthusiasm with your fertility.

They did find some of his instructions a bit… unnecessary , but aware that they’re not the professionals in this matter, they’ve went ahead and recorded whatever they thought relevant for the doctor’s diagnosis:

From the intensity of your flow (which was still abundant, but not as much as before,  giving them the peaceful impression that you were out of risk from turning anemic… at least this month), to your liquid intake and subsequent hours of sleep. 

You felt humiliated for being treated as some kind of test subject, and in certain perspectives, it was humiliating. 

For there was no reason to fret about the perfectly normal occurrence most women had to go through for a great part of their life. It’s not like you were dying, for god's sake! It was something that could easily be placed under control with pain relievers (had Naoya not thought medicine would taint your body, nor the doctor entertained his medieval thinking) or, in a most traditional fashion , a hot compress.

But normal isn’t part of the Zen’in vocabulary, and you’ve come quick to realize that when your ladies decided to keep you away from the rest of the world for a 5th day.

Nonetheless, you didn’t relent. 

Everyday, as soon as Mariya entered the room with your breakfast, you would request to be allowed to go outside, attempting to reason with her that you were feeling much better and you'd only bled a few spots that were almost unnoticeable.

But she wasn’t interested in hearing reasons nor arguments , she had a job to do, and this led her to immediately shoot down your requests as soon as they left your mouth, under the pretense that until one week passes, you won’t be allowed to leave .

This consistently earned her an exasperated sigh from you as a response, one that fell deaf to her ears as she and the sisters continued to serve you as routinely required. 

Nonetheless, your prayers did not remain unheard for long, because Haruko and Hitomi were eventually prompted to argue alongside you, for they didn’t like how… unhappy you seemed to look when Mariya rejected you. Leading them to dispute that maybe , taking you out for a quick walk around the nearest garden would do you some good—

“ No ” Mariya would curtly reply, further proving that her resolve is unshakable, even with their pleading puppy eyes. “Not until she gets better”

Mariya undoubtedly had her reasons to not allow your departure, ones that mainly fell under the jurisdiction of loyalty for her job. 

However, that was not the entirety of her incentive. For deep within her responsibilities, another reason pushed her to be stricter, careful with you, and it all boiled down to a single word:

Naoaki .

Your prime lady-in-waiting had already foreseen the risks that allowing you to roam freely around the estate would entail, but permitted so in efforts of brightening your mood after all you’ve gone through since your arrival. Her intentions further rushed after seeing how affected you were by the forced absence of Mai and Maki, and subsequently, her failed words of comfort…

But of all things that could’ve happened, she never once thought that Naoaki would find way to your interest. 

It frightened her to see how a friendship seemed to be blooming between the two—something she once considered impossible, for you seemed adamant in keeping away from the rest of your husband’s family, especially those directly related to him.

But the more she analyzes the situation, the more she comes to the conclusion that she’s miscalculated your nature.

You might’ve not mentioned the reasons behind your insistent requests, but she was highly perceptive of her surroundings, and it didn’t take her more than a few instances to understand that far from desiring to have freedom back in your grasp, you were longing to see him again. Just what exactly happened between the two, that earned him a level of your attention?

In all honesty, Mariya expected you to maintain a certain distance from the rest of the family after all they forced upon you.

Mai and Maki were to be the first exception to that rule —and the only one, she hoped— when they decided to finally approach you. 

And even if they were forbidden from getting near you from the start, Mariya believed that in the long run, they could’ve done more good to you than harm. After all, you and the girls were placed in a similar position inside the Zen’in hierarchy (with you being a bit more… valuable , in words of another member of the clan, but still out of Naoya’s graces) a factor both parties could relate to, and they didn't seem to be affected by the preconceived notions of their family regarding you . A formula for a happy friendship, if Mariya ever saw one.

In other words, the twins did not represent any threat that could have your husband, or the rest of your in-law’s, worried about. 

That is… until Naoaki came along.

Outside of the title you held, Mariya believed that the family's dislike for Naoya and his possessive tendencies over “what belonged to him” would’ve been enough to push them away from you; turn a blind eye to whatever pertained to him and act as if you didn’t even exist.

Right?

Well… the reality was that you were like a beacon to the inquisitive eyes of the Zen’in—and being Naoya’s wife only highlighted this status. You were like a shiny new toy—for a lack of better words.

No one could ignore your presence, nor the fact that you were living amongst their numbers. You had unfortunately made a name for yourself by being a member of a clan with promising blood ensuring powerful heirs and a compelling background, further putting all of their attention onto you. 

But when you were proven to be barren, worthless for a woman, all they could do is watch your downfall in awe. To see your ruin was entertaining, to say the least, but once everything was said and done, they no longer had interest in you. Meiko seemed to believe that, the servants seemed to believe that…

Or so Mariya hoped, because that didn’t seem to be the reality to Naoaki when he came into the picture by exaltedly rushing to her presence, frantically explaining you were in need of help for you’ve unexpectedly gotten sick. 

Had it been someone else, anyone else, like a servant or a distant cousin of the Zen’in, Mariya would’ve seen this as a normal occurrence and move forward to do what was necessary.

But because it had been Naoaki, Naoya’s oldest brother , the alarms inside her head wasted no second to start ringing—and loudly .

She could only imagine the reaction Naoya would have once your relationship with his brother becomes apparent. He was never one to hide his hatred for his siblings, nor the fact that of all of them, Naoaki was the one that had seemingly more issues with.

Oh, Mariya began to loathe the day Naoya would return…for she knew the end of the world would be triggered once he catches sight of you , his dear wife , with his older brother.

Calling you an adulterer would be merciful of him at that point.

Nonetheless, your staff knew that his reaction to you meeting his brothers would not be as explosive if given under other circumstances. As future Lady of the House, you are required to eventually meet all of the members of the Zen’in clan—not even his status is able to prevent that.

But that was the catch, out of formality . Straight to the point, perhaps even under his supervision, and never to see them again.

That of course, didn’t happen. In fact, it seems that nothing ever happens as expected, and this realization made them feel unprepared to serve you. And this was without them realizing you’ve already met 2 more of his brothers!

Just what else is happening under their noses?

Well, whatever occurred between you and Naoaki was something that Mariya would have to uncover later. 

For now, there was only one thing that she was sure about, and that was that your relationship with Naoaki was a recipe for disaster, and she had to do whatever she could to prevent it from happening.

But who would be the one to set everything in motion? Would it be you and your newfound admiration for Naoaki? Or would it be Naoaki’s mysterious intentions? Or perhaps even… your husband’s oscillating behavior?

Whatever the outcome, it was not good. And you’d be the one suffering the most out of it.

And yet, as much as she wished to clear everything of doubt and demand an explanation from you, she knew that it wasn’t the right time to ask.

Not when you were still recovering and they still had mountains of details to oversee regarding your health, as well as preparing the paperwork that was to be subsequently sent to the doctor.

Mariya glances at your bedroom door and silently wonders where your thoughts are in that particular moment as she makes way to the same. 

Are they with your aching body… or with Naoaki?

Wherever they might be, she still had a duty to perform. 

Without a second to waste, Mariya gently slides your chamber’s door open, with a sensibility that allows her to enter your room without making much noise to disrupt your sleep, as well as carefulness to avoid tilting the tray she held with her unoccupied hand and accidentally spilling its contents. 

Once she’s inside, she closes the door behind her in the same manner she did before and makes way to your side by the edge of the futon. 

Mariya had intended to wake you up and get you ready. However, she was to be received with surprise upon seeing you already awake and sitting; drowsiness still apparent on your face as your eyes were intently fixed on the door behind her, almost as if you were expectantly waiting for someone else to come through it.

You eventually rub your eyes and yawn, blinking a few times to clear the blur out of your vision, and finally,  look at her.

Mariya assumes you to be expecting Haruko and Hitomi to follow, since that’s what customarily happened, and she takes this moment to start your preparations for the day.

“Good morning, lady Y/N” Mariya greets as she places the wooden tray “Did you sleep well?”

“...Yes” you murmur, although it was a lie, for your rising anxiety caused by avoiding Naoaki has been more persistent as of lately. 

That, however, was something you weren’t to tell Mariya just yet, because you already knew what to expect from her—her dislike for anything that made you happy was obvious, thus, you assumed she would dislike him as well. And adding that Naoya was her preferred master , this only piled more evidence to your testimony.

“That’s good” Mariya smiles, relief evident in her voice as she proceeds to prepare your drink by carefully pulling the kettle from the tray and hovering over the nearby cup. 

You glance over its contents for a brief second before looking at her, expecting indications.

“I brought you ginger tea, as well as something light to eat before getting breakfast”

«Ginger tea» you muse as you take a sniff of the familiar scent you were having difficulty recognizing. «And green apple slices»

Both items were not uncommon in your everyday diet, perhaps the only thing that would change from time to time was the fruit, or even the tea, just as today— you were aware enough to be grateful to have been offered something different from the usual chamomile tea you’ve been religiously drinking these past few days, but still, that didn’t cease you from observing just how thorough they were when it came to your diet. 

And you… you… hated it. 

More so because you were craving sweets, in a preposterous way that led you to believe if you didn’t get a gram of sugar soon, you’d die.

Chocolate , ice cream , gummy bears , you name it. Anything that would have them gasping in disbelief and praying to the gods for you to regain your common decency.

But all you were ever offered was fruit.

And fruit you’d continue to eat as you reached for a slice of apple and raised it to your lips, giving it a few bites before swallowing it. Effectively alleviating the hunger that was starting to settle in the pit of your stomach, which was the main reason that led you to reach out for the fruit in the first place.

The other thing you noticed was their insintence in not bringing you medicine.

Of course they wouldn’t bring medicine, after all, Naoya had effectively called it an easy way to taint your body, because the birth control pills you took apparently only did that to your womb and now ruined your chances of getting pregnant, (completely ignoring that the root behind this problem was the unsupervised suspension of your treatment) and even going as far as requesting your doctor to give you organic alternatives to use when your pain became too much to handle— anything to not use medicine. 

Thus, a hot compress and chamomile tea became your best friends during these times.

Luckily, the pain you held this month was virtually nonexistent —perhaps because your body still had remnants of the effect of your pills— asides from leaving behind the uncomfortable sensation of being on your period, but you thought yourself capable of powering through.

Nonetheless, there were still moments when you found yourself longing for a pain relief pill. Surely one wouldn’t do that much damage , according to Naoya’s words.

Well, that wasn’t to happen anytime soon, and you'd do better on moving on.

“Haruko and Hitomi are preparing your breakfast and clothes” Mariya adds in, hoping that her words would quench your curiosity for their absence in the form of your silence. 

It’s at this moment that she realizes how… empty your room seems to be without them. Whenever they were around, your chambers seemed lively, active. There was never a moment of silence when it came to them, because they seemingly always had something to say. 

And you seemed to enjoy their conversations too, although you haven’t been interacting with them that much. Well, you engaged with them far more than you’ve ever done with Mariya, but that’s something that doesn’t… bother her that much anymore.

However, your thoughts weren’t placed on them—at least not the overwhelming majority. With the way she built her sentence, you quickly came to the impression you would be finally allowed to leave your room, and subsequently… reconcile with Naoaki.

Oh… There was no other way to interpret what you were doing: right after you forced him to expose his painful past, react the way you did (and in outrageous fashion), and then disappear for days… this could only give him the wrong message.

You were pushing him away—and that was not the truth.

You desperately wished to see him and apologize for all that you did. It’s the least you could do after all he’s done to you.

And you’ve been sufficiently patient throughout these days, respectful enough to go with the restrictions Junko and your staff had placed on you and not complain about them. 

All things considered, it was time for you to do what you wanted.

Ironic, really.

When you once desired to be away from your in-law’s, eagerly waiting for the day you would be able to lock yourself in your room and get a few moments of peace and quiet, you now longed for the moment you would be able to escape your chambers.

It was of utmost necessity to mend your mistakes. 

The last thing you wanted was for him to believe that you didn’t care for his sensitivity or the fact that he opened up to you—he’s gone through enough pain, and you refused to be part of the problem.

With this newfound hope falsely given by Mariya’s words, you decided to start getting ready for the day as well.

“Wait—careful. Lady Y/N” Mariya frets as rushes to help you stand up once she sees you push your body up from the futon. 

You think of her to be overreacting, yet, not uncommon to her past behavior. Still, you wished that she wouldn’t treat you like some kind of fragile doll, you were only on your period, not some kind of terminal illness!

Well… you couldn’t blame them in the entirety. Last month's cycle was quite… shocking to say the least, even for you. It was pure luck you didn’t have to go through that yet again.

“I’m fine” you respond, attempting to pull your arm away from her hands.

“I’d like to check your blood pressure first” Mariya pointed out “As well as your heart rate”

“My blood pressure?” you raise an eyebrow. It’s not the first time she proposed to take the measurements of this vital sign, but just as you’ve stated, you didn’t think you were in great danger to go to those lengths.

You simply roll your eyes when it becomes evident that this was another one of Naoya’s (or perhaps even Junko’s) unnecessary requisites. 

“...It was brought to my attention by Naoaki-sama that you briefly lost your balance back then, as well as having difficulties with your vision. He’s been quite… persistent in asking us to be sure you were in better health”

“Nao—Have you spoken to him recently?” you exclaimed at the mention of his name. Somehow, you didn’t believe him to be involved… at all . Imagining him to be absent after your seemingly rude reaction. This fills you with hope that perhaps you’re still in a good time to correct your mistakes!

“Yes, I have” Mariya carefully admits, believing to have spoken more than necessary, but once caught in this web the best way to get out of it is by telling the truth. Or so she believes.

“Wait—has he… come to see me?” you ponder fearfully, There are only two possible answers for this question, and both cause you incessant pain: either Naoaki hasn’t bothered to check on you, giving you the impression that your friendship with him was short lived, or he has and he…

“He has” she concedes, and you never thought that 2 simple words could ever ignite such anger inside you.

“Then why didn’t you tell me?” You countered, voice showing how annoyed you are by the alleged liberties your staff decided to take on your behalf. If she was telling the truth, then this would only push Naoaki to believe that you’re trying to avoid him! 

Silence engulfs the two women for a few seconds as the atmosphere begins to grow tense thanks to her lack of response. Frustration begins to build up inside you, becoming apparent by the way your jaw clenches and your grasp tightens on the sheets before you.

“ Mariya ” You persist one more time “Why didn’t you tell me?”

She recognized your tone, your voice, the way your face scrunches and she knows you’re no longer set to negotiate with her. 

It was the same reaction you gave her when she attempted to reason with you about Junko’s decision, and the seemingly best route to take to avoid getting you, or the twins, in trouble.

She quickly came to the conclusion that confronting you about emotional matters never ended in a good premise, but Mariya was never one to run away from her problems, and just’ like she’d always done so before, she’ll take them face on.

If this is what she needs to do to get the full truth and seek your wellbeing, then she’ll do so without hesitation.

“I’ll tell you… but I just need to know first, Lady Y/N” she slowly begins “When did you start talking to Naoaki?”

Her question catches you off guard, for this was nothing remotely similar to what you requested. You think of this as her attempt to steer the blame back to you, and you’re not going to allow that.

“I fail to see how that is any of your concern” You retaliate, taking offense to her give and take approach. “I asked you first why you decided to keep his visits a secret from me”

“It wasn’t… the right time for him to come see you” Mariya responds, finding disappointment behind her foiled attempt. Nonetheless, she would be lying if she didn’t admit your response… annoyed her.  “I simply did what I thought best for you and your condition”

“Well, you were wrong. ” You snap and Mariya jolts in surprise at this newfound antagonism dripping from your voice “I don’t appreciate you hiding things from me. Although I shouldn’t be surprised, everyone else already does it”

You take a few moments to process Mariya’s imprudence, before gasping as another realization comes to mind.

“You want me to stay away from him, don’t you?”

“Lady Y/N, I was simply—”

“Just like how you attempted to do so with the twins” you rationalize “Because I don’t deserve to be happy”

“No, of course not! That was never my intent—”

“Then why did you stop him?”

Mariya feels effectively cornered.

It saddens her that the relationship she had with you had worsened to the point she feels herself turning into your enemy. Mariya knows you see her as the enemy. And why wouldn’t you? Ever since the first day you arrived, you’ve been consistently getting the image that she is… well, someone stuck in the spiraling desire to please her masters, the ones on top of the pyramid, above you , her direct mistress.

From the moment she failed to protect you from Naoya, seemingly disregarding your orders in favor of his, her continuous efforts of cutting your happiness short just to keep the proper appearance Naoya’s wife should have, as well attempting to bend you to the expectations of the cruel family you’ve married into by trying to brainwash you with their misogynistic ideals… 

All the evidence was working against Mariya, and yet, you were ignorant to the things she’s attempted to do in the background to make your life more… bearable , leading you to believe that the woman who was in charge of your wellbeing, was doing nothing at all.

One of the few moments you’ve been able to see her good intentions was when she put herself between you and Naoya right after you came back from the doctor, where he was blinded by the sheer hatred he felt for you at that moment and was ready to strike anyone in his path—something Mariya was set to receive if it wasn’t by Ogi’s intervention. 

But having been put through a hurricane of emotions, you weren’t able to think of anything outside your own survival.

And yet… she didn’t stop there. She’d continue to seek out what was best for you, but unfortunately, it was all for naught for her subsequent efforts to keep you alive after you were undeniably broken by your imminent fate were only transmitted to you as a selfish desire to keep you alive, so her master wouldn’t be too affected by your absence, and not because Mariya felt you were deserving of so much better.

There were many things she would've liked to avoid, to have done differently to make clear her intentions were nothing but good towards you.

But just as she was one to never run away from a problem, she was also able to recognize when she was no longer necessary. Mariya knew she was now intruding in matters that no longer pertained to her, and if this was your desire, then… she would step aside.

“I was simply doing what was ordered of me” Mariya eventually admits in a defeated tone, slowly retrieving the tray from the floor after she deems her duty finished. Once everything is in place, she makes way to the door “Haruko and Hitomi will be here soon enough, and you’ll be able to do what you desire once they’ve gotten you ready”

“ What? ”

Her sudden leniency has you believing you’d made up this whole situation.

There is a bittersweet feeling deep within you as her back disappears once the shoji door is closed. But at the same time, you felt relieved, refreshed .

After so many failed attempts of trying to get her to set you free, you finally obtained your sought after results!

You expected a bit more resistance from her if you were being completely honest, but it was good to see that she’d finally obeyed your orders, seemingly for the first time ever. Had Mariya done what you wanted from the beginning, none of this would’ve happened.

Even if this realization still carried the smallest of regrets inside your mind, it wasn’t enough to fully distract you from the fact that you’re completely independent to seek Naoaki, just as you’ve always intended.

A victory in your books.

But Mariya, on the other hand, held the clearest version of your thoughts.

She was saddened, disheartened, but above all, defeated. 

Because she believes she failed to protect you: for you’ve inevitably fallen into the trap of those who’ve hurt you, and now, started to behave like them.

She’d continue to serve you of course, silently observing you from the sidelines as the days went by, keep close enough to end the rest of your needs but far away to not intrude on your matters anymore. 

Hoping that when Naoya finally comes back… the decisions you’ve taken from this point forward won’t come back to haunt you.

And she makes way back to the kitchen, receiving the concerned gazes of Haruko and Hitomi, who took no more than a second to notice something had occurred between her and you, she regretfully admits that perhaps… it was time for you to start dealing with your problems on your own.

    After Haruko and Hitomi get you fed and ready for the new day —with slight apprehension after Mariya informs them it would no longer be necessary to go with her original plans and to let you do whatever you wanted— and with seemingly no obstacles on your path, you finally feel free to do what you’ve been desperately yearning to achieve.

Being locked away in your room for almost a week gave you enough time to evaluate your relationship with Naoaki, your stay at the Zen’in estate, and your background subsequently.

Beyond any shadow of doubt, his words have affected you much more than you would’ve anticipated, because it was the realization that the preconceived notion you had of the Zen’in family was not as black and white as you'd expected.

Once thinking yourself to be at the bottom of the food chain, grouped alongside the other women (cousins, sisters, wives…) and servants, characters that misogynistic societies would think of as less valuable than the traditional man, you’ve come to realize that this couldn’t be further from the truth.

There’s always someone higher in the pyramid, someone with more power, control, and when you once thought Naoaki to be an extent of these harsh realities, simply for being one of the sons of the leader , his experience was living proof that if you didn’t fit their criteria, regardless of blood or upbringing, you were insignificant .

It was clear that the Zen’in dealt in absolutes.

It was either all, or nothing, and unfortunately, Naoaki had the losing hand that fateful day.

Only those considered their equal could revel in the power, wealth, respect , of their relatives. And it wasn’t enough to acquire it to let the matter rest in peace, no , they had to make sure the rest of the world knew of their superiority, by constantly reminding them of their misery, of what they could’ve been had they only not been born a failure.

All this sickened you to the deepest pit of your stomach, and you could perhaps argue it was your naivety that allowed such a statement to bring a huge impact to your reality, your lack of experience in the world, for you were only 18. And yet… you expected things to be different.

But why would they? It’s not like the Zen’in were… contrasting when compared to the rest of the clans.

The famed Kamo clan dismissed your cousin as soon as she birthed Noritoshi, simply because she wasn’t of their blood—and she wasn’t legally married to the leader either. She was just a means to an end, and once she served her purpose, she was discarded.

And your clan, the L/N, they weren’t exactly white doves either. They’ve done their fair share of questionable actions, specifically when it came to your mother and father. You and your siblings were somewhat saved from their twisted plans thanks to Minako’s and Eiichi’s efforts, but if fate had decided to enact a different path, you could’ve easily gotten a father like Naobito.

It is at this particular moment that you’ve come to realize how incredibly fortunate you were to have a family that cared for you, and the upbringing they gave you. 

Your parents, although strict from time to time, they never did anything to hurt you. 

Ren, serious and a bit aloof, was still very protective of his sisters and would always step in whenever he found something sketchy. He never once took ill intent when it became apparent that he wouldn’t become the next clan leader due to the elders preference for Hinata, nor did it stop him from wholeheartedly supporting his sister. Even when you also showed preference for her, he didn’t care. If anything, he was happy you found someone you could trust in, someone who could understand you better than him,, and all because he was brought up with the notion of caring for his family, regardless of the conditions they were born with, and he took these teachings at heart.

Hinata, the one you could argue as the most pressured of the 3 when it came to dealing with responsibilities of the clan, thanks to the fact that she was born with their prized innate technique, always took pride of her status but never to Naoya’s extent, to the point of  comparing herself with you or Ren, less to make you feel inferior to her. 

No, she never did that. And in fact, she was aware of the elder’s intentions nonetheless of pitting all of you against each other, and worked hard to achieve a level of equality amongst all siblings, leading her to take decisions your superiors considered reckless , or selfish , just for the greater good of her direct family. Something that she could care less about, as long as you and Ren were happy, that’s all that mattered to her.

And you…

You never had the necessity to win your place amongst your relatives. You’ve always had your spot, and the opportunities to do what you desired—whether getting a 9-5 job, or becoming a sorcerer. Whatever you wanted, you were free to do so. There was never a need for you to fit a criteria, an expectation that you had to be the best or… you wouldn’t be considered a person . You were free, and all thanks to the nurturing environment you grew up in. Even when you saw how Hinata was best liked by some of your peers, it didn’t make you jealous. It made you proud! Because that’s how you saw your siblings, as someone to love and admire.

You were lucky to be surrounded by people that loved you unconditionally that you never had the necessity to compete, and it saddens you that this is something Naoaki never had the fortune of experiencing.

You felt bad, no, dreadful for all that he’d gone through, and seemingly for nothing . 

You wished to make it up to him, for you also felt that your imprudent demands and senseless questioning led him to expose a side he was perhaps not ready to show, only feeding into his bottomless need to satisfy everyone around him.

Thus, after dismissing your ladies with the promise of letting them know if you needed anything, you rush to the first place you deem best to find him.

The stable.

With time against you, you run as fast as your legs allow you towards your new destination Not even bothering to change into a more suitable footwear in favor of saving up all the precious time you could in efforts of finding him faster.

However, none of your attempts seemed to bear fruit upon realizing all of the horses had already been fed, and the responsible one was nowhere to be found.

You proceed to verify his absence by going through each and every single stall, hoping to catch a glimpse of him brushing the mane of the horses, or just spending time with them.

But much to your disappointment, there was not a single trace of his presence. The stable, outside from the eating horses and you, was completely empty.

This causes your heart to squeeze in agony as you decide to rush back into the estate, briefly cleaning your shoes with a nearby cloth so as to not make your ill-decision traceable by the muddy markings on the wooden floor, and move onto your second location: the training grounds.

But just as you’ve unfortunately deduced, you found the kukuru unit standing by the entrance. Furthermore, they were not as understanding or willing as they once were in the presence of Naoaki. Now that you were alone, and physically desperate to obtain an answer, they did not hesitate to toy with you as if you were nothing but an object of their entertainment.

“I just need to—” you begin once more, but just as the previous occasions, they cut you short and crudely.

“How many times do I have to tell you? This is not your place to be, woman ” One of the members naggingly reiterates, his words are intertwined with the frustration he harbored from the moment he had to disobey Naoya’s strict and clear orders, in favor of Naoaki’s tantrum . “Do not abuse your master’s kindness in allowing you inside the first place, if it were up to me, I would’ve never allowed you inside”

“But I don’t even want to go inside!” You frustratingly retaliate “I just need to know if Naoaki is here!”

“Well, he’s not ” Another one reveals through an exasperated sigh “Looks like he’d finally regained his common sense. What was he thinking? Getting involved with master Naoya’s wife of all people, how stupid can he—”

“Ugh! Why am I even wasting my time with you two?!” With no intentions to follow up on this pointless and damaging conversation, you sharply turn around and head towards the nearest chamber, anything to walk away from the men that did nothing but prove the truthfulness behind Naoaki’s testimony and the family's continuous efforts of setting everyone against him.

At the end of the day of course, Naoaki still outranked them and they would always do whatever he ordered them to. But you didn’t need to look beyond their interaction to understand that they could never respect him, something that angered you even further .

It serves to show just how desperate they were to obtain the approval of those they considered of importance.

Fuming, you move onto the next room, and the next one, and the next one, until there’s enough distance between the two and you start to feel your anger diminish, making way for your sorrow to begin to surface.

Because going through all these rooms, you have yet to stumble onto Naoaki.

This succession brought you back to the moment you first sought him out, right after you spent days avoiding him, only to realize he had done nothing to you and switch into a more appropriate behavior. Back then, your redemption stood on a flimsy ground, but still bore fruit.

But now?

Considering how you reacted to his story, followed by how you disappeared for a week, and ending with Mariya continually pushing him away… All these reasons could give him the impression you didn’t want to involve yourself with him…

Thus, you weren’t so sure of your possibilities anymore.

A chilling thought then crosses your mind.

«Does Naoaki think… I see him as a failure too?»

The mere thought is enough to send you over the edge, tears beginning to form at the corners of your eyes as you defeatedly decide to go back onto the living quarters, taking a break from your extensive search by sitting on the nearby engawa .

As your empty gaze falls on the horizon, you begin to reflect on your past actions.

Frustrated is the closest word you could find to accurately describe how you felt at this very moment; hopeless, without salvation. Someone that would continue to make the same mistakes over and over again, and would seemingly never learn from them.

Because you didn’t have anything worthy of redemption.

You can’t seem to stop yourself from being humiliated by your own actions, as well as wronging others for the same. 

You’d continue to cruelly torment yourself by recounting the endless things you could’ve done to prevent this situation from happening, an undisclosed list of what if’s to oversee, had you only taken the moment to control your reactions and think … but you didn’t.

There was an endless ocean of questions, apologies, explanations to give… but they would never see the light of day. Because, just like Mai and Maki, Naoaki was gone.

All these seemingly unfathomable problems bring forth the melancholy you held for your family, your sister. The same one you’ve desperately tried to hide in efforts of surviving, as it was buried by the constant abuse you’ve endured in this place.

Once again at your lowest point, you can’t help but seek the comfort of your sister, Hinata, who always seemed to know what to do when you felt abandoned. You silently recline onto the nearest pillar as you lament how much you’ve missed her, and how’d you do anything to have her here, right now, to help you overcome this treacherous situation.

And although loneliness was something you’d experienced before, it couldn’t compare to how desolate you felt right at this present moment.

Back when you were still a free woman, you’d rush to Hinata or Ren whenever you needed help. 

Both were the kind of people you knew to trust, even with your deepest secrets—something that you would often exploit, but you tried to not berate yourself too harshly for that, for you believed it was a common occurrence between siblings.

And even though one could argue that you were virtually alone since your arrival at the estate, your sister’s promise fueled you to keep fighting. It was a matter of holding on to your sanity for as long as it took for her to rescue you.

But you don’t think of yourself as capable of doing so anymore, now that you’ve been effectively abandoned once more, and by your own merits .

As you longed for the day your sister would return, you also wished to give the twins and Naoaki one last apology before leaving for good—if… they still found it in them to see you.

You sigh as conclude on heading back to your room and call it a day; all this running around and emotional distress had tired you far more than you would’ve liked, and knowing that this only made you a vulnerable target to anyone who had interest in hurting you, you’ve agreed this was the best course of action.

Now that you are only a few feet away from your chamber’s, you begin to hear the thudding noise of footsteps in the distance. Seemingly coming from your right side and onto your direction. The sound somewhat tenses you, for your dainty state of mind makes you believe it's a servant approaching you with the sole intention of calling you names, or berating the condition that sentenced your death in the first place—something you were not in the mood to take.

Knowing that you’re powerless to stop them, you anxiously wait for the moment their voice would cut through the thick air as your hands continue to reach out for the shoji, fingers firmly grasping the edge to promptly slide it open.

But that moment never arrives, and instead, you freeze when a familiar tone calls you instead.

“Y/N!”

Like an electric shock, you’re jolted back to life as your head quickly swirls at the origin of the voice. Eyes going round at the familiar, and much needed, sight of the man before you.

“Naoaki!” you eventually reveal, and your cluster of emotions—ranging from excitement, relief, hope— urges your body to run towards him.

You felt like pinching yourself, hug him, or even slapping him! Anything just to make sure he was actually there , but your common sense halts you to an abrupt stop upon realizing that was something that would be considered out of line. 

The last thing you wanted was to make him feel uncomfortable —more than you believe him already to be— so for now, you’d keep a reasonable distance while you assess the situation.

Nonetheless, you can’t hide the excitement behind your voice and face, and neither does he, because the way your name escaped his lips was reminiscent to a person who had gone through many years without seeing their beloved,  anxiously waiting for the day they would be able to see them again—either by the work of a miracle coincidence, it didn’t matter.

But now that you were there before him, alive and seemingly well, nothing else seemed to matter. And more than basking in your presence, like a tall glass of water on a hot summer day (although he wouldn’t deny how happy he was to be graced by your beauty once more), he was interested in catching up on all that he’s missed.

Starting with your wellbeing.

“Are you ok, Y/N?” Naoaki asks. There is a hint of concern in between his words, but not enough to cover the joy he felt for finally seeing you after days of silence.

“I—I am fine! What about you? Are you ok?” You breathe, briefly losing your standing for a quick moment before regaining your composure. 

Apparently the way you’ve quickly turned around and rushed to his figure was too much to handle for your exhausted body, so you needed to take a few seconds to breathe and calm down before referring to Naoaki once more. 

But you didn’t care, in fact, all your mind could think of was how ecstatic you were to see him again, completely ignoring the pulsating warning your body gave your mind once it felt your heart beating a bit too hard against your chest.

A gesture that of course, didn’t go unnoticed by an always-attentive Naoaki.

“Are you sure?” He worriedly repeats “I can call your staff if you need”

“No! I’m fine, really! I just—I guess I shouldn’t have been too abrupt in my reaction” you sheepishly admit “I… I thought I’d never see you again. And I wanted to talk to you about…everything” you begin to confess, and this concerns him even more. 

“Why?” he raises an eyebrow “I’m not going to leave, Y/N. No matter how much you try, you can’t get rid of me that easily”

His attempt on lifting your mood proves to be successful when the two of you exchange a laugh, a short lived contentment after he sees your face fall back into sorrow, your cue to finally address what has been tormenting you nonstop.

“I… almost thought otherwise” You admit with a muted tone, but loud enough for him to hear “I was searching for you and I didn’t find you. Perhaps I exaggerated, but after everything that happened I… thought you actually left”

Naoaki remains quiet, but nods at you as a gesture to continue.

“I didn’t see you for a while, and alongside the fact that I believed my reaction to have been inappropriate, and with my staff pushing you away… I guess I couldn’t blame you if you’ve decided to keep distance from me”

“Is that what you’re worried about?” Naoaki inquiries. And by the way he formulated that sentence, you felt limited by your humiliation to simply respond with a nod.  “I’m not going to lie, Y/N. I was very worried about telling you what I did, and when you started to look sick, followed by how your body seemed to tremble and then… you know, vomited… I feared the worst”

“Ah, don’t—I’m sorry about that” you rushed to apologize before he could go further onto the other thing you were absolutely sure he’d noticed, that is, the vibrant red splotch on your kimono skirt. Luckily, Naoaki is able to interpret your interruption as accurately as you intended, and decides to move forward.

“And by the way Mariya reacted when I told her you needed help made me think your condition was actually worse than you’ve let on” His voice is… hesitant, nervous. If not scared for having to relive the emotions from that day, a fact that makes you feel ever worse upon realizing all that you’ve unwillingly burdened him with.

Had you only had a better grip on your body, none of this would’ve happened—a utopian thought, if only you realized there was really nothing you could’ve done.

“I tried visiting you.” he added.

“I know” you sigh in defeat “I—I didn’t know, had I been aware of this, I wouldn’t have let her push you away!”

“I suspected so.” he chuckles. “Whenever I tried to go, she would always ask me to come back later, or another day, only to tell me the same again, and again. Eventually I just stopped going, but not because I didn’t want to see you, of course. I just thought… it was for the best”

Naoaki remembers the first time he went to your chambers, that is, after realizing you were staying in a separate room from your husband.

He’d initially gone to Naoya’s in hope of getting an updated status of your condition, however, when he found out that his brother’s room had been effectively left empty and untouched since his departure, he found himself in a new problem.

Luckily, all that he had to do was keep a close eye on your ladies and their usual activities to quickly figure out where you were staying. In a room on the other section of the living quarters, somewhat far from your husband’s and closer to his. 

He saw it almost comical that his extensive search was pointless to begin with, for you were only a few doors away from his room.

Now that he knew your location, he moved forward to knock on your bedroom door, somewhat expecting you to receive him only to be greeted by Mariya’s face, which shifted from a serious to an annoyed expression upon laying eyes on him. 

Perhaps out of her belief that no one would dare bother her mistress after giving the notice that you would be virtually unavailable for anything until further notice, or perhaps… well, because he was your husband’s brother—a bad reputation to have on its own.

Nonetheless, she’d still open the door just enough to attend him, asking him if there was anything she could help him with. Naoaki would eventually voice his concern for you, obtusely desiring to be given a moment to speak with you before going back on his way.

But Mariya, seeing through his ambiguous intentions (or so she believed) and  in the same fashion she was accustomed to, would reject his proposal and ask him to reconsider coming back another time, when you were purposely better to receive visits.

Naoaki accepted, but this didn’t stop him from attempting to peek inside your bedroom through the small slit she’d uncovered, and ease his worries by taking a look at your face. Even for a quick second, as long as he could see you, he would deem himself satisfied and leave. 

However, this wasn’t bound to happen, and when your prime lady-in-waiting caught sight of this, immediately bid her farewells and slammed the door shut on his face.

Naoaki would try various times throughout the next few days, except at nighttime.

It was a moment many would consider timely to visit you, for your ladies would be away, presumably resting themselves—but he’d decided against it because… well, because even if he did have pure intentions, he knew how this nightly visit could be perceived by others (perhaps even you as well), and the last thing he wanted was getting you into trouble. Besides, he also presumed you’d be dead asleep, so it was best to let you rest appropriately if your condition needed it.

An admittance that made you feel even more irritated towards Mariya and her unapproved antics, and flattered, because he was being so… considerate… to you .

Had this been your husband, you knew he would’n give a damn about your condition and would stomp into your bedroom. Naoya has proven so countless times before, what differences does it make one more time?

To Naoaki, it does .

“I’m going to talk to her” you concluded on the one matter you felt you could still control, although you think that after today’s decision, there wouldn’t be that much of a conversation to partake in. Nonetheless, you wanted to be sure. “I didn’t consent to anything she did. Had I known, I would’ve let you inside”

“Oh, I don’t think that’ll be necessary.” Naoaki reassured you. “Although I must commend them, your maids are very loyal to you. Even when I got to see them outside of your chambers, they refused to tell me anything. Not many have the privilege of saying that, less from a staff that didn’t come from your household, if that makes sense. Besides, Mariya’s reputation exceeds her, and I wouldn’t like to get her any angrier than she already is”

“I… guess” you faltered. It wouldn’t be the first time you heard someone compliment Mariya and her skill, with Meiko —the housekeeper, being the first. Haruko and Hitomi follow suit, finalizing with Junko. 

All of them accurately portrayed her as someone of outstanding skill in any task she took on, more so surprisingly from coming from another house, just like Naoaki said. Because it was well known that when women married into new families, they were given the choice to bring their own staff or get assigned a new one—often pushing them to choose the former, for there were countless rumors of newly assigned often opposing their new mistresses, even going as far as plotting against them (at least from those where the bride and groom’s family don’t get along, much like your situation) simply because they never warmed up to them.

Taking that into consideration, you could argue you did get a good deal when your staff was assigned, at least talking about Haruko and Hitomi.

The one thing you debated, however, was Mariya’s loyalty. 

Yes, she had an obligation, and she carried it out well.  But there was no loyalty —at least not to you. Naoya was a completely different topic.

But her reputation? What was her reputation exactly? 

Somehow, you couldn’t help but feel like this was directly linked to the way she approached Hagiwara, the man guarding the path to the village that dreadful day, and how she managed to make him tremble on the spot and reveal what she needed to know.

Undeniably so, there was a whole ‘nother side of Mariya you were ignorant about—but did you really want to know more of the woman who seemingly disliked you?

Guess knowing her a little bit more wouldn’t hurt anyone.

“What is with her reputation?” you wondered.

“That she’s very… assertive when it comes to her job” Naoaki explains “You’ll never find her slacking off, or making decisions with underlying consequences she hasn’t considered already”

“Hmm, I guess so” you mused, finding his answer a bit… disappointing. 

Maybe because of your unmanaged expectation, one that entailed him revealing a dark secret of hers. Thinking about it,  Mariya seemed like the kind of person who had nothing to hide, and if she did, you’d never know because she was a very private person on her own.

That, alongside the reality that you no longer had interest in speaking about someone you’ve spent 5 whole days with, led you to move on to another topic.

Or at least attempt to, because as much as you tried convincing yourself that you didn't want to entertain this conversation any longer, blinded you to the fact that your genuine thoughts became apparent with the way you scrunch your face, and the briefness of your answers. Something that Naoaki caught on almost immediately and decided to pursue the root of it.

“I presume your relationship with her isn’t the best?” he guesses, and you sigh in admittance.

“No. It’s not” you acknowledged “I really don’t like the fact that she didn’t tell me you were attempting to contact me, or how she’s been trying to make me side with your relatives for that matter”

“How so?” Now it’s his turn to be upset. He would’ve never seen this one coming, for her behavior showed great allegiance to you. Something he could confidently say the rest of his aunts did not have, for their servants were always on the lookout for the bigger fish. 

Had anyone else been under your care, he knew they would’ve allowed him to see you, no questions asked, not even bothering to take the time and check what his intentions were. Although… he could understand why—his relatives weren’t known for being the most patient when it came to their staff, so they would often just… do what they ordered.

To hear you say that Mariya was someone whom you didn’t trust, and actually wanted to feed you into the mentality of his relatives, was surprising to say the least. 

And if you didn’t like her, all that was left to ask was… when did your animosity towards her begin?

Undoubtedly, on the day of your arrival. 

When she approached you with the temperament of a submissive maid towards her new master, out of a sense of duty to secure a favorable position with you, and caused you to lower your guard. Something you shouldn't have done in the first place.

Nonetheless, whatever her intentions were, they would unfortunately end up blowing in your face once she’d allowed Naoya to do whatever he wanted, presenting him a new path for him to abuse.

And things kind of just got worse from there.

Aside from the fact that you weren’t given much time to react to the situations happening around you, before being thrown into another one, and another one, and another one… you could easily say that Mariya’s actions continuously burdened you with some kind of emotional whiplash. 

When she would do something you’d considered against your benefit, she would then do a 180° and offer to do things to help you, distract you, or even console you! Just as when Naobito’s death sentence became discernible and she wasted no second to take you in her arms.

Things that just made you wonder… Why?

Why is she doing this?

Is Mariya someone… worthy of your trust, and you’ve simply misunderstood her intentions? Or was she preparing for the right moment to stab you in the back once more?

Just why is she—

“You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to” You blink upon hearing Naoaki’s voice, bringing you back to reality.

He noted you going silent, far more than a few seconds of mere deep thought. He would’ve allowed you to go beyond, had he not received the impression you were approaching a dangerous limit, a place you did not need at this particular moment.

“Right now… I’m more interested in knowing about your wellbeing”

“It’s…it's just that I don't understand.” you circle back “She wants me to follow everything that Naoya and Junko want, but then… she does things that she knows she shouldn’t do to help me” your mind goes back to the time she did Naoya’s breakfast instead of you, something that Junko eventually caught on to, but the gesture still remained “but on the other hand, she’ll cut short my happiness” you then think of the library, how Haruko and Hitomi finally opened up to you after various insistences, where you would get to know them by the books of their selection and having genuine fun with them, something that lifted the dark cloud that have been following you since your arrival “And finally… how she tried to convince me in thinking that Mai and Maki were nothing but useless children that I must avoid to maintain the prestige of my title ”

This memory being the most hurtful of your wounds, you look away.

“Why is everyone around me adamant in keeping me isolated?” you quietly lament.

Noticing Naoaki’s silence, you come to the quick realization that you’ve once again dumped him with your trauma, effectively shifting the conversation that initially started as a way for you to mend your mistake to Naoya, ended up being about you.

However, it doesn’t take you longer than a few seconds to realize you’ve dumped Naoaki with your trauma once again, and how the conversation that initially started as a way for you to mend your mistakes to him, ended up being about you.

“I’m sorry” you regretfully rush to apologize, scratching off the first of many you’ve mentally listed to complete “This wasn’t even about me, I was here to talk to you and now I told you all these things that you probably didn’t even want to hear. All I wanted to say was that I—… I’m sorry for the way I reacted the last time we saw each other”

“You don’t have to apologize Y/N” he shakes his head “I should’ve anticipated how my actions could’ve been perceived, and the fact that it wasn’t the best time to tell you my past, or even speak about it all that. More so if my words triggered your illness”

“Oh, No! I don’t want you to think you can’t tell me anything either!” You disagreed “I should’ve been a bit more sensitive to the fact I was…well, poking the bear! And… My sickness is just my period, menstruation, whatever you want to call it. I just get terrible cramps, nothing to worry about” and that’s all you desired to say about it. Because you don’t picture him as someone comfortable talking about this matter, in fact, most people didn’t—a product of society’s taboos.

“Has it always been that way?” Naoaki cautioned, and while he admitted he didn’t know much about these… topics, he was intrigued to know how much it influenced you.

“Yeah, unfortunately” you sigh “But I’ll survive”

“Is that so? Well, it’s good to know it’s something you’re knowledgeable about.” he chuckles at your selection of words  “And… I also had to admit, getting to tell you all of that felt like a weight got lifted off from my chest, for the first time in forever it seems.”

He smiles.

“Thank you for listening to me”

You should’ve known that his family wouldn’t be as understanding, nor interested, in checking the aftermath of his mental health. The Zen’in didn’t strike you as someone to admit mistakes, aside from Naoaki of course, so you could only assume that the only few instances he reached out to speak about what happened were quickly shut down, if not made worse by blaming him as the one responsible behind his father’s reaction.

Taking this into consideration… you were more than willing to offer him a shoulder to cry on if he ever needed one. The two of you could cry together if that would help him feel better.

Oh, there were so many things you wished to say, to clarify… but where could you begin from?

Well, the beginning was always a good point to start from.

Which takes you to the next point you wanted to oversee…

“Are you… ok?”  Naoaki doesn’t need further exposition to soon understand what you’re referring to. And while he didn’t expect you to want to continue talking about a topic that clearly affected you in more ways than one, he wasn’t about to deny that he felt… seen, appreciated .

And he was grateful for having found that solace in you.

“Yes” He reassures you “I’ve been… better. It’s been almost 15 years since that happened if you think about it, and in some ways… it now feels like it was all a bad dream. Besides, father now seems far busier than ever, so I doubt I’m in danger of something like that ever happening again”

“And… your wounds?” you eye at his shoulder, as if you could glance at his back from that angle.

“I have some scars, but they’re mostly gone thanks to the doctors and some creams I used almost daily for years. But you know what they say, what doesn’t kill me makes me stronger”

You let out a stifled chuckle, admiring how he always managed to see the positive outlook of everything, even the worst. 

Naoaki certainly didn’t believe that the blessings you’ve given him could become any bigger, but when he sees you grin, joyous for the first time in days… he can’t help but think how lucky Naoya is to have someone like you as his wife.

Not even spending time tending to the horses, or even practicing jujutsu, could compare to the sweetness your smile brings to him.

But as quick as your smile arrives, it disappears when another thought manages to creep back into your mind, another point that has been upsetting you repeatedly.

“What about… Naofumi?”

“He’s fine as well” Naoaki presses his lips, almost as if he were trying to hold back his next words from escaping in favor of not having you worry any more—but he changes his mind almost immediately upon coming to the conclusion that you wouldn’t appreciate it. “He took it harder than anyone else, luckily, the rest and me were there to help him through it”

“You’re a good brother” You remarked “And a good son as well. No matter what Naobito says”

Now is his time to smile fondly at you.

“Mother would’ve liked you” he suggests and you blush “She always wanted to have a daughter”

“I— that’s good to know. At least one of my in-law’s likes me” you nervously theorized. And then, the slightest desire to ask more about her begins to take root inside you.

How was Tomoko as a mother? How did she get along with the rest of the wives? Did she get to meet Junko? 

Apparently so, for Junko has admitted it herself. But how was their relationship? Was she distant to her as she was to you? Were they friends? Would you have gotten along with her as well?

You halt your interminable questions as soon as you labeled this moment as the incorrect one to do so.

Perhaps when things have cleared up, you would come back to further discuss this topic. For now, you’d continue to focus on the man who’s started to take a place in your heart.

“But… I’m really sorry all that happened to you”

“It’s fine, besides, it wasn’t all bad if you think about it. I got to get closer to my brothers. I  didn’t even realize how distant I’ve grown from them after I stopped training with father”

“I know my experience is very different from yours but… I can’t imagine a life without my siblings, no matter how much they irritate me from time to time” you take a jab at them, and Naoaki laughs. Both understand how that your words held nothing but good nature. “I’m glad you have brothers to support you”

“I’m glad you have them too” he responds “Although… I can’t imagine you’re happy from being away from them”

“No… obviously not. I miss them dearly” You sigh, making your way back to the nearby engawa upon noticing the burning sensation found on the soles of your feet, a signal that lets you know you’ve spent quite a fair amount standing up and now need to take a rest, with Naoaki following right behind and sitting besides you. “I wish I could at least tell them that I’m well”

Naoaki pauses for a moment, giving you the impression that he’s giving in to one of his many recurrent thoughts, before finally sighing. 

His reaction causes you to raise an eyebrow out of curiosity, wondering what could’ve caught his importance so intently, before going ahead with his explanation.

“By the way… my offer still stands” he says, referring to the one he made with you regarding Junko and the twins, the one you could say started everything to begin with. Naoaki knows this isn’t related to your family at all, but if he could do anything to make you feel less lonely, he would do so.

“What do you mean?” But you don’t seem to remember this, well, after a whole world of catastrophic events, you shouldn’t blame yourself for not remembering.

“About me talking to Junko, about the twins”

“ Oh ” you mouth, and regret quickly floods your mind.

As much as you were tempted to have a third person play your accolade, call a witness to the stand to support your testimony and innocent intentions… you knew how gravely misunderstood this attempt could be perceived.

If Naoaki seemingly approached Junko out of the blue, with the sole intention of confronting her to emerge a second opportunity from her… well, she would feel as if you were trying to intimidate her to do your will with the influence of imposing brother-in-law , encouraging her to paint you as someone she wouldn’t consider adequate to have around her daughters:

A trigger happy woman who doesn’t take no for an answer, and would mobilize anything under her control to obtain what she wants.

You certainly wouldn’t allow someone like that near your children.

Thus, after a few seconds of consideration, you respond.

“No” you say while shaking your head “I… don’t think it’s a good idea. But I thank you nonetheless”

Naoaki nods, taking your response without much hesitation, and goes silent once more.

Even with your admittance, Naoaki isn’t one to back down so easily, especially if he knows that you were inclined to take up on his proposal, but decided against it in favor of keeping an amicable relationship between the parties involved. 

Even if it meant pushing down your own happiness.

Eager to find another way to bring you comfort, his mind eventually wanders to another possibility, a riskier one if he had to label it. But would undeniably bring you unmatched happiness.

However, he believes it best to keep this idea a secret from you, at least until he finds a way to assure a favorable outcome. The last thing Naoaki wants is to give you hope only to turn around and inform you it’s no longer possible.

For now, he settles on getting his brother’s to visit you from time to time, he’s sure you would appreciate seeing Naofumi and see firsthand his wellbeing, and maybe even Naohiko and his aggravating attitude, although he knows you’ll be able to handle yourself around him.

Naohiko is the all bark but no bite type of person, especially with people that have caught his attention. He likes to deny it, but even since Naoya’s engagement became apparent, he’s always been intere—

“Naoaki, were you able to see Y— oh ”

Speak of the devil…

“Naohiko” Naoaki responds as you and him swirl your head towards the direction of the caller, with your mouth falling slightly agape upon realizing it was indeed , his brother.

Seemingly caught in the act, Naohiko attempts to play the unamused role and proceed walking towards his brother, ironically side-eyeing you as if you were nothing more than a nuisance.

It’s not like the first thing he revealed upon entering the room was a question regarding his brother’s success in seeing you, but you’ll entertain him.

However, being caught as a deer in headlights doesn’t stop him from being his usual irritating self, just as he was about to portray.

“Hello” he says to his older brother, before looking at you. He stares at you for a few moments, as if carefully testing the waters, before taking the shot. “Naoaki’s side chick”

“ Side chick ?” You blink, confused .

“Naohiko, please refrain from—”

“You offend me, Naoaki” Tossing your confusion out of the window, you playfully interject as you look back at Naoaki in feigned offense. “I thought we were more than that by now”

If Naohiko wanted to play like that, you'd give him a taste of his own medicine. And Naoaki seems to be on board with it as he adds in with a chuckle. 

He knew he was right when he assumed you would be able to handle his brother on your own. Your first interaction with him simply caught you off guard (alongside your overwhelming insecurities) but once you got to know his brother a bit better, you’ve grown to understand that Naohiko was simply someone who liked to play rough—and your years with Gojo and Geto taught you more than enough on how to handle people like that.

“Oh god, gross” Naohiko winces, immediately retracting what he said “The two of you are disgusting . That was a joke Y/N, in case you didn’t get it”

“If you can’t stand the heat…” you begin “Besides, you’re the one that started it!”

“Doesn’t mean you have to follow my lead every time” he rolls his eyes “Besides, you’re married to Naoya, it might seem a joke to you, but for sure it’s not a joke to the rest of us”

“Way to ruin the mood” you frown, giving him your own pout now that your playful banter was sourfully destroyed by the reminding of your civil status. It seems there were still things you weren’t comfortable with being joked about, within reason. “I obviously knew this was a joke”

“And whatever gave you that freedom? Are you an adulterer now?” Naohiko attempts to take another jab at you, and Naoaki believes this as the right moment to step in.

“Alright, Naohiko” He interjects  “We get it. Besides, weren’t you here to check on Y/N as well?”

“You did?” You exclaim, and the notion of Naohiko coming to see you , has you reacting like an overly excited puppy (at least to Naohiko’s eyes, something he desperately attempted to stop from considering cute but failed to do so anyways) before pushing his buttons once more “Did you miss me, dear Naohiko?”

“Shut up” he groans, cheeks now slightly flushed as he diverse his gaze away from yours. “Everybody knew of your little exorcist incident, I just wanted to see if that was true”

“What the—Who told you that?!” You gasp, although a bit grotquese, you still managed to find the comparison quite…amusing. 

And judging his knowledge to reference this western classic… You were quick to label him as an avid fan of horror movies. Who would’ve known?

“Your best friend here” he nudges at Naoaki “He was very explicit about it as well”

Naoaki turns even redder.

“No, that’s not true” he interjects immediately, directly looking at your eyes as a way to reassure you he was telling nothing but the truth “I just told him you were sick and what happened, because he asked me”

Your eyes darted between the two conflicting brothers, attempting to make a decision on who to trust, before you left out a laugh—a genuine laughter of enjoyment that had both of the men staring at you in awe, as they realized this is the first time they ever heard you actually laugh

No stifled giggles, or chuckles.

A full blown laugh .

And while Naohiko tried to play it off as finding your reaction annoying, falsely forcing himself to believe you were mocking him, he still had to admit that seeing you laugh was a nice change of scenery of this mostly dull environment.

But the one most affected by it had to be Naoaki.

If he thought your smile was sweet, your laughter was… something else .

However, they still remained ignorant to the reason behind your reaction.

Well, it was all too clear to you: it’s because they reminded you too much of your siblings.

This wasn’t the first time you felt this sense of familiarity around them, in fact, you’ve secretly compared them to the type of relationship you and your siblings would have when they were training—senseless quarrels, alongside petty nicknames here and there, all in a tongue-in-cheek manner that would be forgiven at the end of the day.

A sense of friendliness that allows you to forget the circumstances that brought you here in the first place, in favor of enjoying their company. 

Oh, if only you got to know them in another time…

Your thoughts are then cut short by Naohiko’s following words.

“Whatever” he says whilst rolling his eyes again “Now that I found you, it’s time to go”

“Time to go?” you ask. You’d be lying if you said that the implication of their departure didn’t sting you a little bit. You’ve just gotten comfortable… “Where are you going?”

“To work” Naoaki explains “Since I wasn’t sure when I would be able to see you again, I decided I could use that time to settle some unfinished business, as well as some errands from my family”

“ Oh ” Well, now that he puts it that way, you can’t help but feel a bit useless.

Not that housework wasn’t a job on its own, of course, it’s just that you felt… well, insignificant compared to his responsibilities. “I’m sorry for distracting you”

“You weren’t a distraction” Naoaki soothes “I’m glad I got to see you before I left”

Naohiko groans at his brother’s gestures, perhaps out of need to hurry him, or because he felt his words were a bit too… sappy for his liking. Nonetheless, he secretly agrees that he too, was glad to have seen you before the week ended, specially after the small scare you made them go through.

“Oh, Shut it” Naoaki gibes at his brother “You wanted to see her too anyways”

“Yeah, but I’m not all gooey like you or—ugh, whatever! Why do I always fall for your games?! We need to go now!! If you’re not with me in 5 minutes, I’m leaving you” With that, Naohiko sharply turns around, but not before bidding you a curt goodbye and disappearing into the same aisle he’d come from, effectively leaving you, and Naoaki alone once more.

Once out of sight, Naoaki’s golden eyes fall back onto yours.

“Guess that’s my cue”

For the briefest moment, you think you see a sliver of regret creeping glistering in his eyes, seemingly for his unwillingness to leave you so soon after reuniting. 

But just as you were raised, you’ve come to understand that duty always came first. And even if you somehow managed to convince him to stay, regret would never allow you to fully enjoy his company.

“Thank you for sticking out for me, even after 1 week of being ignored from me”

“Don’t be so harsh with yourself, you were sick. Had it taken a month to see you, I would’ve waited anyways”

“I hope it never gets to that extreme” you shrilled, loathing the time you had to bleed fourteen days. 

After the anguish of this recollection passes, your gaze lowers down to the ground and you shyly ponder the next question 

“Does that mean... We’re good?”

Your question seems to allude to that particular point in the conversation, but in reality, you unconsciously seem to refer to your overall relationship with Naoaki.

The world seemed to work against you when it came to working on this blooming friendship with Naoaki, and just as in any harsh environment, there were obstacles to overcome before you could finally conclude a decision.

Difficulties that ranged from your own insecurities, Naoya’s restrictions, Mariya’s hurtful comments, and Naoaki’s infamous notoriety.

All things that you’ve managed to process and overcome, driving you to the conclusion that you in fact, did want to to go to the end of the line with him.

Now… It was time to see if he desired the same.

“We’re good.”

And fortunately, he did. 

“We can talk more about it if you’d like, but I have to go right now”

“Of course! I don’t want to make Naohiko wait any longer” you say “I… guess I’ll see you around then”

“Don’t wait up for me” He winks as he gently ruffles the top of your head, a gesture that once irritated you for it often led to your ladies’ efforts getting undone… now wrapped you with warmth. “I might come back late”

“As if I’ll let you ruin my beauty sleep ” you snickered back. The two exchange laughs before going silent, the atmosphere around them turning tense—but not for the wrong reasons.

It was the unpleasantry of realizing it was time to bid farewells, always a bittersweet moment for those who did not wish to be distant from one another.

Hoping to give him your blessing, a promise for a safe return, you’d muster the words your husband has never had the fortune of hearing from your lips, at least not with the genuine care you’re showering Naoaki with.

“Be careful, Naoaki” you say, replicating the same words you often heard your mother bless your father with whenever he had to depart “I’ll pray for your well being as I patiently await for your return”

    From that point forward, your days would no longer remain largely uneventful.

Yes, you’d continue to do your duties, learning about future changes around the house as well as some administrative tasks Junko thought you were capable of handling now that you’ve gained more experience.

All of this helped you get a bit distracted, but nothing could remove the excitement that Naoaki’s arrival rewarded you. It didn’t take long for this succession to become something you were looking forward to, and it to positively affect the way you went on with the rest of your day.

Noticing that it always occurring at the same time, or mostly at the same time, you would make sure to clear up most of your duties so that when he’d finally came home, you could focus all of your attention on him and the stories he would occasionally share you with—whenever it was permitted, of course, since you knew that most sorcery handlings had to be dealt with the most absolutely secrecy (although you knew you were virtually locked away from the rest of the world, so who could you possibly tell?)

Nonetheless, you’d take great interest in whatever he had to say, for example, he’d tell you about the cursed tools that were locked away in the Kyoto school, and how he was tasked in transporting them to the other school. Something you didn’t know entailed a great deal of care, for transporting weapons was a hard ordeal on its own, now imagine a cursed tool! These things attract curses, and he couldn’t permit them wrecking havoc across their transportation.

The other thing he recently had to check was the status of some paperwork regarding the ownership of some distant land of the Zen’in clan—apparently someone had made a few typos when writing the new owner, and someone somehow learned of this and saw it was an opportunity to take the land for themselves, arguing that the owner technically didn’t exist, and since he’s been the one taking care of the property…it might as well be theirs. Naoaki managed to intervene just before it got worse, but if it didn’t get fixed in a timely manner, a lawsuit would have to be set in motion.

All these fascinating experiences bring you the realization that, as much as Naoaki seemed to be detached from the main branch of the family, he was still a vital part to its smooth functioning. 

You wished Naoya would stop acting as if he was the main pillar of the family, especially when he had his brother’s tending to the small emergencies he didn’t bother to clean up after.

Either way, Naoaki’s visits would continue to be the highlight of your day, even if such interaction was to be a double edged sword, a bittersweet memory of what your career could’ve been had you not been dragged into this arrangement—as well as the intermittent question of your sibling’s whereabouts.

You don’t assume Naoaki as capable of bumping into your sister or brother anytime soon, considering that most of his assignments are of lower level compared to Ren’s and Hinata’s, but it was nice to daydream the moment he’d miraculously be able to see them —and perhaps even send them a message from your part! Even if it’s just you saying hello , you think you’d be satisfied. You’ll make sure to tell him some other time about it.

Certainly, now that you’ve become more attached to Naoaki, whenever he has to leave, you inevitably end up feeling… empty .

Solitude is something that you’re slowly working on overcoming, but it’s a struggle you know you can’t solve from one day to the other, more so if you’ve kept it undisclosed to your ladies. 

Still, there were moments where your homesickness would peek through your actions, whether being by how and what words you say when referring to others, or how you act around them. 

Things that became apparent to Haruko and Hitomi, who would try to step in from time to time in efforts of distracting you, but you’d always tell them that you were fine— surprisingly, Mariya has kept silent, only offering to give you food or something to drink if she saw it necessary.

If she was concerned, she no longer shows it.

The only thing your staff is diligently keeping a close eye on is, asides of your odd relationship with Naoaki, was your health condition. 

You were seemingly improving far better than last time—for your period effectively stopped after a week of bleeding and you didn’t seem to have any cramps after the fact. A point in your favor when it comes to recording the information requested by the doctor. 

Well, you’d allow them to do your daily check up if it meant you’d still be able to see Naoaki, just as you were attempting to do now once word of his return had graced your ears, meeting up with him in the usual garden, the same place you’ve come to grow overly affectionate of during your stay: the lily garden.

“—it was pretty quick. And after that, I’d just had to deal with paperwork, which I haven’t started because it’s always so tedious ” He sighs. 

Paperwork, the one thing most sorcerers hated doing themselves, opting to hire someone to do it for them (such as assistants, which were often assigned by whichever faculty was the nearest) or other sorcerers.. 

You remember doing the job for your sister and brother back in the day, when you were a bit more… insecure of your abilities, and wanted to avoid getting out on the field as much as possible.

But once you’ve gotten a taste of the practical side of jujutsu, you could see why many dislike partaking in its theory. Some just liked the thrill better than standing in a secluded office working all day through endless mountains of paper—quickly reminding you that, of all forms you had to complete, Gojo’s was the one most difficult to achieve. And not just because of his peculiar personality. Explaining his technique was a nightmare, you were glad to have left that in the past.

Nonetheless, paperwork was rarely a quick affair, there were always stacks and stacks of forms to fill before getting into the actual details of the mission: even if it was to simply inform the sighting of a small curse, with insignificant amounts of cursed energy, you’d have to fill around 5 forms to properly file it’s identification.

You could only imagine the dreary amount of work Naoaki was bound to face.

“But I’ll do it tomorrow” he says, leaning back on his arms  “After that’s done, I think I don’t have anything else to do, so you’ll see me more often—maybe I can finally get down to feeding the horses again”

“Oh! The horses! I’ve almost forgotten about that” you gasp “Ah, I would’ve gone to feed them myself if it weren’t for the fact that I’ve been busy as well”

“Well, it’s not like I was expecting you to do so. It’s not really your responsibility” he chuckles “Now tell me, what have you been up to?”

“Nothing much” you sigh “Just following Junko-san around, making food, tidying Naoya’s room once in a while, washing clothes, repairing hems, that kind of stuff”

At the mentions of hems, Naoaki’s eyes seem to glisten with anticipation, his mouth slightly opening as if preparing himself to ask you something about it, but his hopefulness is quick to vanish, being replaced soon after with something likened to embarrassment, as if he were having second thoughts.

It’s rare for the bold Naoaki to feel embarrassed about anything, for he’d always been the one to assertively deal with situations. Taking this into consideration, you rightfully assume that whatever plagued his mind, was important.

“What are you thinking about, Naoaki?” you prodded.

“Nothing” he looks away “Nothing important anyway”

“Do you perhaps… need me to fix… something ?” you grin.

“...I might” he mutters “But it’s fine, I can always get a new pair of—”

“Nonsense! I’ll fix it!” You chirped “Not to show off, but even Junko-san has admitted that my technique has been getting much better… or so I think, she really doesn’t compliment me that much. And no one else has given me any complaints so I guess I’m doing something right—so if I’m going to fix whatever you need, you better give me feedback!”

“I will, I will” he laughs as he raises his arms, surrendering to your attack   “I’ll give them to you after we get something to eat, I’m starving ”

    After lunch, Naoaki asks you to meet up in the same garden as he goes to pick up the clothes that need fixing while you in turn, go for your tools at the nearby laundry room.

Once reunited, you make haste to analyze and pinpoint the issue: a simple rupture on the left side of his black hakama pants, presumably caused by the interference of a sharp object, either during training or a mission. Nothing unusual for the men of this house and that Junko hadn’t trained you to overcome. 

And while you were fixing his issue with a simple invisible stitch, Naoaki took this as an opportunity to know more about you and your mysterious family, starting with your clan’s innate cursed technique.

“—she sealed the curse without using more than 1 seal, of course. I think everyone expected her not to? But they seem to forget that my sister’s technique is made specially for that. Have I told you that my family was the one that sealed the infamous Ryomen Sukuna?”

“ The Ryomen Sukuna?” Naoaki is…impressed. He knew your family had a historical background of great value, but he never knew to this extent. No wonder Naoya was permitted to marry you.

“The one and only” you declare proudly “And by a sorcerer with the same technique! I guess that’s why her technique is so valuable, and why my clan desperately wanted her to marry Gojo, as well as this weird belief they have about our blood bringing out hidden techniques or whatever, I personally believe it’s just a bunch of BS—it has to do more with the compatibility of each sorcerer, you know? But how do I change their minds? ” You add as you pierce the needle through the fabric and pull it out to the other side, doing the same to return it back to its original position and repeat it once more, as well as tensing the fabric every few occasions as if to check the sturdiness of your work.

“Wait—wait. Your sister was going to marry the Gojo heir?” Naoaki replicates in shock. Adds to the reason why the Zen’in allowed their future heir to  marry you. Like attempting to get the upper hand, an opportunity to tell the Gojo’s look at what we achieved, and you did not and rub it in their faces. Or so he believes.

“Oh, yeah. She was. I thought I told you though?” you tilt your head “Well, it doesn’t matter now. They broke up the engagement and the elders did not like it, not one bit”

“If they’re the same as the ones from my clan, I can only assume the terrors she must’ve been put through”

“Oh, she’s been through so much” you pause “In a way… you remind me of her”

“Really?” Naoaki blinks.

“Yeah” you look at him, stopping what you were doing “She’s always been one to move on from things quite easily, or so… she wants us to believe. But in reality, I know that decision to call it quits wasn’t one to make from one day to another. Hinata didn’t tell me, but I know that ever since—”

The image of Geto flashes across your mind, and not wanting to dump Naoaki with your unsolved trauma his betrayal brought you, you decide to briefly gloss over the topic.

“Since something happened, she’s been… unhappy. Hinata likes to act unbothered and throw herself into her work, but there’s still things she hasn’t healed from. I mean, she basically forged her life to the fact that she was going to marry Satoru one day, and did everything to please the clan, and then, not anymore! Sure, it was her decision, but it wasn’t an easy one to make. We are pretty close, but this was the one thing she did not tell me about, and she tells me everything! I learned about it because I was able to put the pieces together.

It saddens me to believe she didn’t trust me that one time. And I miss her very much. Her, my brother, and my dad…”

As much as you’d like to tell yourself that you’ve moved on from Naoaki’s tragic background, the reality was that his confession left an imprint in your heart you were sure would take days, if not months to erase, your mind trying it’s best to rush the process, but all it was capable of was rationalizing his experiences with your own, perhaps as a sense of comfort that everything wasn’t as bad as you’d initially expected and lift some pressure from your aching heart, leading you to compare him to Hinata.

It seems that as of lately, all you’ve been able to think of is your family and the comfort they once provided you.

And Naoaki takes note of this by the way your face drops and your smile seems to run… cold, dim, even when you’re talking about the things you enjoy.

He knows that he can’t do much to mend your broken heart, for his family wouldn’t allow it (not easily anyways) and if Naoaya ever got to hear the faintest implications of someone attempting to contact your family, hell would break loose.

That’s why he took his time to consider and develop the idea his mind rang up when he perceived your yearning to see them, to the point he found it sufficient enough to bring it to the table.

Of all things, he really hoped you would be selfish to take this offer, if just one time at least.

“Y/N” Naoaki calls. His tone is firm, but soft. It gives you the indication that he’s trying to discuss something important, but he doesn’t know if it’s the right time nor the right topic.

Eager to show that whatever he wishes to say is of importance to you, you stick the needle into the fabric and intently look at him, gently nodding as to invite him to proceed.

“I was thinking that maybe… I can help you with that”

Of all things, surely , you didn’t expect to hear that from him; your disbelief is evident by the way your eyes go round and your mouth falls ajar.

“What—What do you mean?” you cough “With—with my sister?”

“Yes” he nods, and you feel like you’re slowly entering the twilight zone “You’ve told me enough times to understand the pain you’re going through by being physically distant to them. As much as someone with a broken family can understand”

You remain anxiously silent. You don’t know if you want to hear the rest of his words—but the version that has been seeking a way to escape this inferno pushes you to continue.

“I just want to know if you’d like to contact your sister”

You freeze.

Wait.

Did you hear that right?

“W-wha— how ?”

“I’ve already thought about it. The easiest way would undeniably be via telephone, but it can be easily tracked with the bill since it shows all the numbers that had been called by the end of the month, and that’s a risk neither you and I are willing to take. So… I thought of an alternative a bit more… secretive. Even a bit outdated, but it still works. With chances of being intercepted kept to the minimal”

“What… is it?”

“A letter”

The image of Junko and Mariya promptly comes to your mind’s eye upon hearing his solution.

There’s so many risks, so many details to oversee if you ever decide to go through this. And although Mariya had been a bit more lenient when it came to observing your every move (seemingly after giving up on caring for you, or so you’d like to put it that way) Junko was one that still kept her job in high regard. 

You dread to experience the moment you were uncovered for attempting to contact your sister—or successfully done so.

And you had no doubt that Naoya would be the first one to know about it. Your death would come earlier than anticipated.

But as much as the warning alarms on your head were ringing, the same ones that told you to hit the brakes and reject his offer before he’s able to squeeze in another word… your survival instinct tells you to take this opportunity. 

You had to at least consider it.

If you wanted to make it out alive, help your sister in one way or the other in getting you out of here, risks needed to be taken.

Such is the way life works.

Thus, with much thinking to do, you nod in acceptance of his request. But not before making sure of one last thing.

“Is there a catch?”

“A catch ?” Naoaki repeats.

“Yes. Something you want in return” Even with his kindness, surely he must do something in return? You’re basically risking him as well by having him help you. Anyone would want some kind of payment for sticking their neck out for these lengths.

But you, once again, underestimated Naoaki’s kind nature.

“No” he shakes his head “I mean, besides getting my clothes fixed, if that’s what you mean?” he chuckles.

“No, silly” you pout “Are… are you sure this is alright?” 

Your heart feels like it’s about to burst out of your chest. Was it because you couldn’t believe his kindness, or something else… harboring inside you?

“If it wasn’t, I wouldn’t have told you, Y/N” he claims.

You come to the conclusion that he must be your guardian angel.

“You’re too kind for this family” you eventually admit “I’ll repay you someday. I’ll let my sister know about you!”

“I doubt she’ll find my presence thrilling, she’ll probably think I’m just like your husband” he sighs.

“Oh—right” you blush, going back to the day you believed him to be like his brother. Just thinking about it is enough to make you drown in shame and in desperate attempts to get a breather, you say. “I’m sorry”

“It’s fine” He smirks “We’re way past that”

“But are you really sure? I mean… it’s risky, isn't it?” you still couldn’t believe it.

“Yes. I’m absolutely sure about it, and you’re right. It’s going to be very risky, but that’s why I already thought of ways to minimize those risks” He frowns “It’s even stupid to think that you have to go to these lenghts because of my brother, but whatever. That’s life I guess”

“What do we have to do?” you curiously ponder, a slight tremble in your voice shows him just excited, as preoccupied, you are to finally reach out to your family.

“I’ll let you know everything you need, but let’s finish this first before we can move forward”

You didn’t need to be told twice, and before he was able to muster any other word, you’re done fixing his pants.

In fact, you were quite surprised by your speed. But who wouldn’t be? 

You’re finally able to contact your family! This was enough motivation to hurry you up and finish with your task at hand, subsequently returning his garments back to their original position and guide you into the north wing of the estate—an area not unknown to you, for you visited this place before when Naoya also held the intentions of contacting your family, but not without an ulterior motive.

Reflecting on the circumstances of that call, it seems like you’ve come full circle.

It was almost poetic in a way, how one of the men did everything in their hands to prohibit you from contacting the outside world, while another one exerted great efforts to rekindle that connection.

And as you’re presented with various sheets of papers alongside a pen with black ink, limitless opportunities unfold before you.

You could easily argue many, many things have occurred to you: ranging from your honeymoon, to the moment you set foot at the Zen’in estate, and finally, the development of this genuine friendship, just to begin with. 

Experiences that only added weight to your bottled emotions, which were now threatening to spill everything onto the paper before you.

But then, an important question rises to the occasion.

Should you even tell her?

It’s at this moment that you realize, you can’t tell her everything without measuring the consequences of your words.

What if this ends up being detrimental to your already stressful rescue mission? What if it gets intercepted before this missive ever gets to Hinata’s hands?

You could continue listing the never ending things that could go wrong with this latest blessing, spiraling down to nowhere, or…

You could move forward and take a gamble.

Whatever happens, you believe that nothing worse can happen than what is already in store for you.

Undeniably, there were so many things you wished to inform her of, that you didn’t even know where to start!

But for now, a dear Hinata would suffice.

      Writing a letter was an activity that you would’ve never imagined as being capable of holding strenuous labor behind it. However, you soon come to the realization that it isn’t the action itself that’s giving you trouble, but rather, the circumstances you’ve been forced to complete it.

Naoaki advised you to take the items for yourself and keep them hidden in a secure place, so as to give you a bit more privacy, as well as freedom to where you can actually write the letter. As much as he was considering keeping you on the office area of the house, he knew that it was a section you weren’t even supposed to be in, thus, you were forced to keep your secret weapon close to you at all times —sometimes hiding in under your obi— or hiding it in a small corner of your room you’ve successfully managed to keep away from your ladies’ attention—alongside the small gifts Mai and Maki had given you throughout the duration of your friendship with them. Items you’ve kept very close to your heart, and thus, successfully did everything you could to prevent them from being confiscated.

But circling back to the actual contents of the letter… Well, it’s safe to say that you’ve almost run out of your paper supply. Not because you intended to write down your entire autobiography, but rather, because you didn’t know what to tell her.

You’d write something, read it, and then discard it once you thought of it a bit too revealing for your intentions.

Nonetheless, you eventually managed to write what you needed to say, but not without Naoaki’s warnings, which are as stated:

Avoid mentioning or implying you’re, in fact, miserable in the Zen’in estate. Anything remotely indicative that you’re having the worst time of your life will certainly put you en route to the worst outcome yet.

Secondly, do not inform her of whatever Naoya or Naobito have done to you. And although Naoaki did not know about your… death sentence, you assumed this wasn’t the right time to tell him either.

And finally, be as… vague as possible if there was something you absolutely needed to tell her. Naoaki was sure that because of your closeness to her, you’d be able to disguise your message in a way she’ll be able to crack in no time. The pros of growing closely to a sibling, he presumes. Nonetheless, only take this risk if essential.

Now that it was said and done, all that was left to do was seal the envelope and send it.

But before Naoaki could do his part, he still had some adjustments to make, such as signing the letter under his name, as well as requesting her to send her response to a P.O. Box, located in one of the many post offices in Kyoto.

Such measurements could be perceived as… radical , but under these circumstances, they were nothing but reasonable.

In the letter, you’d play the naïve sister who desperately wants to know of her family’s whereabouts, but hasn’t been able to contact them due to being overwhelmed by her new life as the wife of the future head of the clan. A good cover, if it weren’t for the fact that you’d been saying the same excuse for a feew weeks now—you simply hoped this wouldn’t raise any more suspicion than what your siblings already have. 

If it did… well, that’d be something extra you’d deal with later.

And one morning Naoaki was preparing himself to leave the estate to complete more assignments, you handed him the letter, bid him farewell… and began to wait.

At this point, there was nothing to do but partake in the waiting game.

But the adrenaline pumping through your veins barely allowed you to do your responsibilities as usual, or at least not without the occasional concerned glances from your ladies and Junko—who you were luckily able to fight off thanks to blaming your health, yet again, as well as falling to the monotony of your everyday routine.

Something that Junko thought of as nothing more than a poor excuse to avoid your responsibilities, and wasted no second to scold you about the proper behavior you should have as Naoya’s wife—a reaction you took as her taking the bait.

Haruko and Hitomi, however, presented you with a more understanding approach, requesting you to take it easy and just enjoy this lovely day, but still having to complete your duties, of course.

Mariya, on the other hand, did well in assuming that your emotions were heavily linked to whatever Naoaki was doing. Whenever he was gone, you’d seem anxious, eager, as you waited for his return. However, today… you seemed to be a bit more on edge than previous days. But having given up on intervening where she’s not required, opted to remain silent once more.

You, of course, knew exactly what was tormenting you. And that was the fact you were finally contacting your family. 

From there, you’d worry about how long it would take before your message was sent out —without pressuring Naoaki, of course since his duties came first, but you just couldn’t help yourself!!— as well as how long it would take your sister to receive it (you quietly wondered if your letter could be upgraded to the express service, Naoaki obliged) and finally… how long until you’d finally hear from her.

All equally important topics that distracted you from the current happenings around the estate: apparently new staff had been hired after the mysterious termination of a few servants (Haruko believes Meiko’s decision was influenced by personal reasons, not professional) as well as the retirement of those old enough to do so. You’d occasionally hum in response to your staff’s words, just to give them the impression you were listening, but none of these things were of importance to you, not when you had Naoaki’s arrival to look forward to.

Asides from wishing him a safe trip, you also hoped that his mission had allowed him to send your letter,

Once your duties were finished for the day, you decided to take the rest of your free time practicing your calligraphy at the usual lily garden, as you kept on waiting for your favorite Zen’in brother to come home.

Diving into the monotone strokes of the brush, your mind diverts to the receiver of your letter, Hinata, and what she’s been doing to get you out of here.

Now that you think about it, it was weird that Hinata wanted to get you out of here in the first place. You don’t know what gave her the idea you needed saving, aside from your weeping display of unconformity. 

Well, that’s easy to explain.

You were unaware of the fact that your father had been forced into submission by your husband in order to marry you, and allegedly through unhinged and obscure acts that led your sister to seek help from greater forces, such as Satoru, and finally get a lead: going to the jujutsu technical school in Kyoto, in hopes of getting all of the records pertaining to Naoya’s movements. That way, she’d be able to get a rough draft of what he’s been doing, as well as where .

However, you do assume that Kento must’ve been informed by now of your predicament. He, the best friend you made while under lockdown at jujutsu high, must’ve been both devastated and infuriated by your sudden disappearance. His standing with the jujutsu society was flaky enough as it was —evident in the way he attempted to sway you away from pursuing a career as a sorcerer— so you could easily assume his reaction became worse upon hearing your arrangement to the infamous Zen’in, of all people.

But as much as you wished to know more about him, you didn’t think it was adequate to name another man in the letter you sent to your sister. The memory of when Naoya called you a whore for having male friends came to you when you when writing it, and was enough to push you to reconsider other possibilities (which made you wonder… if he were to see you with his brother—)

«Ah, whatever. I don’t want to spend my free time thinking about that idiot» you shake your head as you continue with your exercises, only to be stopped yet again when a figure in the corner of your eye soon catches your attention.

From the other side of the room, you were able to figure out it was Meiko, the housekeeper. A conceited aura seems to envelop her as she continues on with her path, seemingly uninterested in the young man trailing closely.

Your eyes then fall to the one behind. 

He seems to be holding a tray, intended to cautiously carry a black bottle of unknown contents (although you assume it to be wine thanks to the countless similar containers under your father’s ownership) as well as a glass cup. Giving you the impression that whoever the man intends to serve the bottle to, held no desire of sharing. 

You continue intently staring at the pair as you come to the realization this must be the new hire your ladies were speaking about, for you did not recognize this man from anywhere else, besides, why else would Meiko be so heavily involved in these menial tasks if it wasn’t to train the new staff of her beloved masters?

If your assumption was correct, then it would make sense why the man seemed so nervous when delivering the contents in his hands. It had to be his first job, and probably even his first task. Now you know that whoever was let go had a very close position to their employer , it made you wonder why they didn’t promote someone instead of hiring a new person.

Well, some masters were picky that way. And there was nothing you could do.

But maybe because this was a completely new hire, who was keenly focused on completing the task at hand to give a good impression to his new boss , he seemed to forget that not only did he have to be careful with the tray he was holding, he also had to watch his step.

Seemingly forgetting this small detail leads him to slide in a way that has him clumsily stumbling forwards, tray and bottle falling victim to the earth’s gravity as everything crashes down into the wooden floor.

The red spillage spreads across to the surface, but it doesn’t stop there. No. The vibrant liquid also manages to taint part of Meiko’s skirt, and the shirt of his uniform. 

And as if the collision wasn’t shocking on its own, the shrilling sound also made its way into the ears of nearby servants, who rushed to see what the commotion was about. They let out a sharp gasp upon witnessing the crime scene with their own eyes, and a few seconds later, the room went painfully silent.

Your heart winces at the man’s pitiful look of regret as he sorrowfully realizes what had just occurred, looking up to the now infuriated housekeeper, who wasted no second to allow her inner thoughts flood unfiltered through her mouth.

“You useless fool!” The elder woman cries as she reaches to grab the back of his collar and dangle him back and forth “This is only your first day of work and you’ve already screwed up!”

“I—I didn’t mean to!” The poor man wails as he attempts to break free from her grasp by placing his hand over hers and pulling her away, but it seems that appearances were deceiving, because even at her old age, she still has enough energy to keep tormenting her employees “I’m sorry— I’m sorry! ”

“Do you know just how much that bottle costs?” She sneers “And the gravity of your actions?! That bottle was to be served to Jinichi-sama , and you just had to commit the atrocious error of breaking it as if it meant nothing! That bottle is worth more than your life , and I’ll make sure Jinichi-sama reminds you of that!”

“No—wait! Please!” He pleads. The man once thought he couldn’t have faced a worse predicament than having to deal with Meiko’s incessant rambles, he’s quickly reminded that there’s always a bigger threat, and that seemed to be his master’s role. “I’ll—I’ll clean it up! I—ju—just give me time to get the—”

“I’ll have you clean this mess with your own tongue if it's necessary!” she snaps “And I don’t care if you get splinters all over it, it’s the least you deserve for doing such stupidity!”

The world around you seems to stop when her words finally hit a nerve.

It’s not the first time you’ve heard her say words of that nature, for Haruko and Hitomi were pretty vocal when describing how malicious Meiko could be if given the right motivation, with your cook citing her own experiences as sources.

But yet… her words seemed familiar, her actions were as if you were seeing them again, like some kind of déjà vu you were still unable to voice where you’ve seen it before.

And as the wound caused by her behavior seems to grow deeper and deeper, to the point you feel yourself growing nauseous, it eventually hits you like a bucketful of cold water when you finally realize why her actions had affected you as much as they did.

It’s a rendition of Naoaki’s past.

Although in an entirely different scenario, with a different cast, the play still remained the same.

Meiko was attacking this poor man the same way Naobito had done with his sons—unremorseful and without a single drop of understanding for one's mistakes, and you were witnessing it with full detail.

Each yank, each whimper, down to the smallest motion caused by either Meiko or the servant, only served as strokes of painting that created the monstrous picture before you, further illustrating the same atrocities your brother-in-law had to go through, if not in a lighter interpretation.

A jarring example of how things shouldn’t be handled, not even considered , and yet, you seem to be the only one affected by this situation as the people around limited themselves to either pass them to continue on with their already busy schedule, or stay behind and stare in awe at this sick entertainment.

You’ve long come to the decision that your utmost priority was to escape this place, but that didn’t mean you’d let others drown in the same misery that haunted you. You’ve grown to understand how deeply rooted the evil of the Zen’in clan was inside their hearts, even going as far affecting those of the servants, and the urge to do what you wished to do with Naoaki, is enough to push you into action.

“Stop it!” you boomed, wasting no second to drop your items and rush your way over to the pair.

Your voice is loud enough to resonate across the room, effectively earning a shocked reaction from Meiko, who was quick to swirl her head in your direction. 

Had you been someone of her respect, she would’ve responded with confusion, or perhaps even fear of having one of her masters seemingly lower themselves into her matters, promptly stopping whatever she was doing to give her full attention to them and apologize for the intrusion.

But because you were someone she considered unworthy, having fallen out of grace with her masters, you’re confronted with her anger, if not insult , for how dare you stick your nose in her business.

Guess you haven’t learned yet. She’ll have to put you in your place then.

“Lady Y/N” Meiko acknowledges as she peels herself from her victim, releasing her grasp from his collar and dropping him down to the soiled floor. The man winces in pain as a sharp object seems to incrust itself in his palm—a broken glass “Fancy seeing you outside of your chambers for once ”

You do not let her words affect you any more outside of bewilderment for her lack of respect, or the wrongful assumption that you’ve been doing nothing but lay on your bed, even if there’s a growing itch pushing you to remind her of your title (if it’s of any worth) and how she should be addressing you—if just to overrule her overbearing behavior.

Nonetheless, you’re quick to recognize that this is a ploy of hers to make you fall in her games, get you where she wants you to be, and once her intentions became clear, you ignored her by walking past her and making way to the crouching man who had now carefully removed the piece of glass previously stabbed on the palm of his hand.

“Are you ok?” you ask, lowering down to his level and placing your hand on his back as a gesture of comfort. He’s speechless as he looks up to you; your face is unrecognizable to him, and by the way you’re dressed, he doesn’t assume you’re part of the staff. Thus, he comes to the deliberation that you’re someone of a higher rank. 

A realization that would’ve caused great relief for anyone else, seemingly believing they’ve stepped in to help them; had it not been for his somber insecurities that drove him to believe that his lack of tact forced you to step in just to prevent this ruckus from further interrupting your day, causing him to flinch away off from you. 

A fearful reaction that reminds you of how Naoaki must’ve reacted whenever he saw his father after the deed, further ignited the fire of your desire to do what’s right.

“I—It’s ok, I won’t—” you attempted to explain, but the other one had no intention of allowing you to do that.

“Do not ignore me!” Meiko interrupts “You come barging into something that is not of your competence, so now you take responsibility!”

«Fine!» you distastefully relent «If that’s how you want to play»

“That is no way to treat my staff!” you say as soon as you’re up on your feet and facing her directly.

“ Your staff?” Meiko mocks.

“Or anyone for that matter” you double down, unaffected by her imperious intentions. “Perhaps I don’t know how things work here at the Zen’in estate, but I’m absolutely sure this is something that many employers would deem unnecessary !”

“Ah, so now you’re telling me how to do my job?” she scoffs “Maybe you’re confused, little girl , but matters regarding the employment and training of your staff pertain to the masters of this house! Like your husband , whom you’ve constantly disrespected, and me the housekeeper . And what I decide to do is none of your business!”

“That may seem so.” you reasoned. “But you should be encouraging them to learn from their mistakes and do better, not threaten them into compliance!”

Desperate to hold on to the control Meiko feels she’s slipping away from, she decides to use the tool she knows will rattle you. Surely, once he’s brought up, you’ll be reminded of your place and she’ll win the upper hand.

Thus, she goes for the jugular.

“Perhaps I should let your husband know of your imprudences! He’ll put you back in your—”

“ Let him ” You growled back  “I can’t fear him anymore than I already do”

The housekeeper is rendered speechless upon facing this new side of you. 

The broken woman she saw back then, the one that would keep herself locked from the rest of the world, like a damsel in distress, the same naive woman whom she thought had already been broken thanks to her husband and father-in-law’s efforts… was nowhere to be seen.

Instead, what received her was the face of a determined woman. One that was terrified down to the bone for having to act with the possibilities of gruesome retributions following soon after, but still pushed through them, for the fiery perseverance of doing what was right was rewarding enough to jump into action.

Meiko had miscalculated.

Something had occurred during these past few days that pushed you to reform yourself into this woman, secure of herself. However, Meiko fails to realize that this had always been in your nature, you were simply being kicked down by the men around you, and now, you’ve decided to fight back.

Staring right back into her eyes, Meiko found the face of a woman who had nothing to lose, and everything to gain.

“Mariya has been a bad influence on you, I’ll be sure to—” Meiko attempts to push the blame onto your staff, but she was wrong.

“She has nothing to do with this” You snap “That you’re unable to see the wrongdoings of your action is solely your fault”

“Just—just who do you think you’re talking to like that?!” Meiko’s frustration becomes even more apparent by the way her face begins to redden by the second. “I’ll have you clean this yourself if you’re so adamant in becoming some kind of martyr to the servants!”

“With pleasure ” You taunt, and Meiko feels like her attempts were foiled once again thanks to your unmovable stance to her destructive force. “Anything else?”

Feeling the judgmental eyes of the surrounding onlookers, who take no time to quietly label this situation as  a failed attempt of subduing you, as she usually does to the others —a humiliation that would certainly follow her the next few days, if not the rest of her life— Meiko decides that perhaps, it’s time for her to remove herself from this situation before it worsens, dreading to think that one of the higher ups was already making their way towards your location, simply because neither of you could keep your commotion low enough.

Thus, after seemingly accepting defeat (but urged by the fear of having to explain what happened between you, the failure , and her, to her masters) she decides to shift her attention to Jinichi and mend the delay of his drink with a sincere apology, obviously keeping your small insurgency a secret from him.

Meiko seeks to recollect herself by taking a deep breath and brushing off the wrinkles of her kimono skirt with the palm of her hands. She then raises her fingers to thread one of her disheveled hairs back into place before giving the agitated man before him a stern look as a warning, something that doesn’t manage to go through as you step between them, your face warning her to not even think about it. 

“Then, I expect the floor to be spotless by the time I come back” Is all that Meiko says before she sharply turns around and walks back into the abyss of the Zen’in household, seemingly headed towards the direction of her bedroom with intentions of getting a presentable change of clothes, before going to her master.

It’s only after you hear her footsteps vanish into the air that you allow yourself to release a breath you weren’t aware you were even holding, disappearing alongside the weight that seemed to pin you at the spot after the altercation comes to an official end.

Your heart continues to beat fast against your chest as you reflect back onto what you’ve just done, as well as the possible consequences this might have to face. You had a turmoil of emotions to process, but even then, regret was nowhere to be found.

You knew to have done the right thing at the end of the day, and now, it was time to aid the man beside you. You’d deal with everything else later.

“Miss—”

“Are you ok?” You crouch, gently holding his arm to help him back on his feet.

“Y-Yes” he nods gently “I—...Thank you”

“Don’t mention it” you sigh, looking back at his bleeding palm “We have to get your hand checked, does it still hurt?”

“No” he shakes his head before glancing at his injury. He isn’t very familiar with the composition of a glass-made cut, but he assumes to still have a few pieces inside. “I think”

“Did glass get in there?”

“Yeah” He nods “But I took it yout”

“Oh no! You’re supposed to not touch it, at least until a professional sees it!”

The man looks away  in shame.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scold you” You press your lips together as you carefully take his hands between yours as to create a diagnosis of his injury. 

The gesture has the man slightly tensing up and blushing at the sudden touch, knowing etiquette never permitted either to do such a thing, however, he doesn’t do much to stop you, and he allows you to continue—perhaps out of his own need for comfort after this turmoil of an evening. “It looks… not that serious. Do you know where the first aid kit is?”

“No” he sheepishly admits

“I’ll take you there—”

“No, please!” He cries “I’ll go myself, just tell me where it is”

“...are you sure?” You frown. “You might need help”

“Yes…besides, I still have to clean up this mess and I don’t want to distract you any further”

You push your lips into a pout as you frown, giving him the impression that you’re going into deep thought before you cheerfully exclaim.

“How about you go get medical attention, and I clean this mess? Besides, I made a promise to Meiko , and I’m not one to back away from promises” You smirk, and the man is now convinced you’re an angel of sorts.

“O-Ok” He quietly mutters as he looks to the ground “I can still bring you the things—”

“Nope, won’t do” You shake your head “Go on now, before it gets infected”

“Thank you… Mrs…—”

“Y/N” you finally introduce with a nod “And you?”

“Fuyue” he bows back “...Thank you”

“Don’t mention it” He gives you another bow before turning around and preparing himself to rush into the depths in front of him. But before he’s able to do as much as give the first step of his new route, your voice stops him.

“Wait, Fuyue!” You call and he turns around once more. His curious eyes are fixed onto yours and the sight is enough to give him the warning you believe will make his life easier, the warning you wished to have received when you arrived. “...Be careful. I know what Meiko did was wrong, but she’s… lenient when it comes to the masters of this house. I don’t mean to scare you or anything of course! Just… be careful, ok? Keep your head low and stay out of trouble, but at the same time… if you see something… say something. It’s the small actions that make the greater difference ”

Fuyue blinks a few moments before giving you a smile, taking your words at heart, for seemingly no one has bothered to look after them upon his arrival, that is, until you came along.

He’s heard of the many rumors plaguing the Zen’in, leading him to question why he even accepted this job offer in the first place (because the pay was good, and he needed experience), but now that he’s met you… he believes that maybe not all the rumors are true.

As he bids you a farewell, he silently hopes to get another opportunity to see you again.

Now that he was out of sight, you return to the present by glancing down at the red spillage before you. It’s a vibrant shade that could easily be misinterpreted as blood, but luckily for you, there were enough witnesses to attest to the fact that this was nothing more than wine.

Knowing well to not wait any longer, as to avoid the color from settling onto the wooden surface (permanently marking it on the process) you make haste to head for the cleaning supplies and get down to work, but not without noticing the whispers that began to sprout from the surrounding audience as soon as you were left alone.

Having suffered enough by their judgemental glances, and not wanting to entertain their ill opinions, you zero in on your duty and leave the chambers as fast as possible while attempting to block out their murmurs, completely unaware that their words, far from painting you in a negative light, were starting to show nothing but admiration for you.

Your knowledge of the Zen’in estate architecture seemed adequate enough when you were able to find the necessary cleaning supplies in record time, and just what you needed to do a job well done.

Nonetheless, you still had to admit you have achieved what you did solely by your own merits, because it seems that the designer responsible behind the selection of materials used for the estate’s construction had future accidents in mind, for you were adequately surprised to see a lustrous layer of varnish spread across the surface once you started cleaning, virtually preventing the liquid from penetrating the fibers of the floor and ruining them subsequently.

This preemptive selection allowed the wine to effectively slide across the surface and onto the various napkins you’ve brought to clean this mess, using less than 5 sheets to effectively absorb its contents, before using a cleaning formula to remove any leftover stains and smells.

You eventually retract your body from the floor by leaning back and sigh whilst rubbing your forehead with the back of your forearm, cleaning up any remnants of sweat brought by your diligent efforts as you proudly look down at your job well done.

As you’ve promised, you’ve managed to clean the floor to the point it looked as good as new—now, Meiko would not have any reason to furiously haunt you like a yurei for apparently failing to keep your part of the accord. 

Which leads you to think that she really had no reason to overreact the way she did, for the wooden floor was spill proof to begin with. Serves to prove how she enjoys tormenting those below her.

Once you’ve regained your breath, you decide to give the floor one last swipe just to be absolutely sure you’ve cleaned up everything. If the napkin comes back pristine clean, then you’ll take it as your cue to pick up the entirety of your cleaning supplies and go back to your previous activity—which was waiting for Naoaki’s return as you’ve practiced calligraphy. 

As you lean forward to clean one more time, a commotion seems to have taken place behind you as various voices become apparent at the distance. You don’t give their conversation much attention, that is, until you hear the noise of footsteps making their way to you.

Footsteps you’ve come to recognize, which prompts you to turn your head at its origin and grin.

“Naoaki!” You cheer “You’re back!”

“I am.” he responds. However, before he’s able to say anything else, your crouching figure, as well as the variety of cleaning supplies you’ve surrounded yourself with, causes his mind to overrule his initial enjoyment of seeing you again, in favor of curiously eyeing your scrubbing motions. “Am I… interrupting anything?”

“Not much” you eventually admit as you give one quick scrub across the floor, smiling proudly once the results come back clean. “Just cleaning up something—how does it look?” you point to the affected area on the floor.

“...Clean?” Naoaki tilts his head as he tries to take a guess at what could’ve occurred. Had you not told him, he would’ve never guessed something happened.

“Good! Now I can finally put all of this away” You exhale as you push yourself up from the floor “How was your trip?”

“Fine, but…” Naoaki says as he goes ahead and helps you pick up the rest of the things “What exactly happened?”

“Oh, right” you chuckled nervously, starting to make way back to the cabinet you took out the supplies from “Um…well, I was practicing my calligraphy, just me, alone. And then, I saw Meiko walking across the room with a servant I’ve never seen before. Nothing was happening, that is, until he accidentally spilled the  bottle he was carrying—and she lost it!”

“Oh, Meiko ” Naoaki rolls his eyes with a tone that gives you the impression this is not the first time she’s done something like this, a terrible habit to have you conclude. “And what happened after that?”

“Well, she basically went on saying how that bottle was really important to Jinichi-sama , and how this poor servant is going to basically die if he doesn’t make it up to him” You wince, placing the supplies back in their place, Naoaki doing the same and closing the cabinet door on the process.  “It was… frightening, really”

“That’s not good” Naoaki cringes at the mention of his cousin “Jinichi isn’t much of a drinker, but when he does, he’s very picky when it comes to it. I could only imagine the fright Meiko must’ve gotten taking that into consideration, and the servants as well”

“I can imagine” you shiver at the thought of the most frightening man of the Zen’in sovereignty (at least physically) losing his cool. And you wished for that question to remain unanswered “Luckily, I think I managed to prevent a catastrophe from occurring, at least for now”

“Is that why you were cleaning?” Naoaki rightfully assumes.

“Yeah. I… don’t know if I did the right thing—I basically stepped between her and the servant, but… well, I just couldn’t stand by and do nothing! Not after they—”

«Reminds me too much of what you had to go through» you wished to say, but decided against it.

“But yeah. I didn’t like how she was screaming at him, the poor man seemed like he was about to cry!”

Naoaki didn’t need to hear more to understand what you were referring to. 

He could only deduce how alarming their altercation must’ve been for you to witness or anyone else for that matter, alongside the possibility of having someone from the higher ups get involved… 

Nonetheless, the risk your engagement entailed was something you considered, and yet, did not stop you from doing what you considered necessary.

He had no longer had doubt that you held a kind heart, and this only added weight to his statement. And he can’t help but admire you.

The realization is enough to bring a smile upon his lips as he feels something… warm grow inside him.

The pair eventually returns to the lily garden, towards the place you’ve left your calligraphy set. The ink had unfortunately gone dry, but it’s nothing that a bit of water can’t fix, and in the worst case… a new bottle of ink. 

Hopefully Junko wouldn’t reprimand you for being careless with your objects—you’re at least attempting to develop one of the many appropriate hobbies a woman of your title should nourish in, that much she’d have to recognize. 

And after you’ve finally picked everything up and set it back in place, you’re the first one to speak.

“So… how did it go?” you murmur. And while your question is vague, being able to cover both his errands and your… request , Naoaki knows exactly what you’re referring to.

“I managed to send the letter” He whispers back “I had to be very careful. I guess one of the servants grew suspicious of our relationship from one day onwards, because I was frequently asked what I was going to do and if that had something to do with you , a rare occurrence on its own. Eitherway, I managed to play it off as simply trying to get along with you, if I couldn’t get along with my brother. And that I was going to do my usual errands”

You sigh, and the anxious strain of your heart seems to be released upon hearing his success.

“Thank you, Naoaki” You replied, holding your hand over your chest in a physical attempt to feel your heartbeat slowing. “I… don’t think I’ll ever be able to repay you. Not that I’m not intending to! It’s just that… you’re taking a big risk for me. It feels like we’re walking in a minefield and every second now… we’ll make the wrong step and die” you jest.

“You don’t have to” he reassures you as he sheepishly looks away. Even with his face turned aside, you’re able to distinguish the reason why he did such a gesture: a slight pout as well as a light shade of pink crossing his cheeks. “You’re happiness is enough for me”

Now it’s your turn to blush.

“Rest assured” he adds “The letter is now on the hands of the postman and making way to your sister”

Another rush of restlessness makes way across your chest as you conjure up the image of your sister eventually receiving your missive and reading it. You hope it doesn’t take long before that thought becomes a reality.

“I guess all we have to do now is wait for her response—hopefully she isn’t pushed away by the fact that you signed it”

“If she’s as smart as you are, then she’ll figure it out” He comforts you “Besides, you can always send another one if this doesn’t take, if we’re insistent enough, she’ll get the idea in no time”

“I wouldn’t like to abuse your help” you giggle “But that’s something we’ll have to worry about in the future. For now, how about we go feed the koi fish while you tell me all that happened in your mission?”

“Actually… there’s something I want to show you first”

“ Oh ”

His demure facade shifts into one of solemnity, and you can’t help but feel that something bad has happened. 

It was something about the words we need to talk or I want to show you something that always made you feel uneasy, even if you haven’t done anything wrong to begin with. Nonetheless, this doesn’t stop you from migrating all of your leisurely thoughts to his motivated intentions as you begin to trail behind him.

“Am I meeting the rest of your brothers?” you begin, hoping to lift some of the restlessness off from your shoulders.

“Nope” he lets out a chuckle “Not close”

“Oh!” you squeak instead “Are we going horseback riding?”

“Not that one either” He shakes his head “Although I wasn’t aware you wanted to? I thought you didn’t like it”

“It was only that time” you respond “besides, I think I’ve grown from my fear of horses”

“And here I thought you didn’t have a phobia” he chuckles.

“ Slight fear of horses” you correct. 

“Don’t think I haven’t considered it” Naoaki confesses “But I haven’t been able to get you something more… adequate to wear. So I’ll have to give you a rain check for that one”

“Ah, well then…don’t worry about it. I already knew I wasn’t able to do so anyways, but it’s a nice thought to chew on” You shrug “Then…what are you going to show me?”

“Do you really want to guess? Or do you want it to be a surprise?”

“Can you at least give me a hint?”

“All I can say is that it’s something I think you’ll like”

His clue is… not specific, to say the least. At all .

If anything, it fuels your bombaring thoughts in figuring out what Naoaki has in store. And as you continue to walk, and walk…and walk across the many chambers and hallways of the estate, the mystery continues to grow even bigger to the point you’re completely engulfed in figuring out his hidden motivations.

The two eventually pass the living quarters, and it’s at this moment that you seriously consider giving up and completely throw yourself into the element of surprise, a sentiment that is quick to turn into agitation upon turning around a corner and making way to a traditional Japanese garden, where the sight before you is enough to halt you on your tracks.

The scene before you being the culprit of your reaction.

Believing to be a victim of a trick, a mind game of sorts, you’re prompted to rub your eyes as to eliminate the blurry layer over your vision and take a better loot at what stands before you—surely, the built up excitement through this extensive walk after discussing the topic of your letter has you imagining things, comparable to the mirage of a dehydrated man in the middle of the desert.

But there was no illusion—and your mind, your soul knows this. 

Why else would your heart start beating heavily against your chest? Why else would your hands begin to tremble, and your eyes watering? Why else would your mouth run dry, not  allow anything else but a sharp gasp to escape your lips, if the vision before you was a lie?

Why else would you react this way, if it weren't for two simple reasons… reasons you conclude through your constricting throat, with nothing but a trembling voice…

“— Mai ?— Maki ?”

[bluewritinghood]

Flowers

He sighed and picked it up from where in lay in the bathroom sink of course the person he fell in love with had to be a December baby and now he was coughing up freaking poinsettia flowers. He had a sneaking suspicion he already knew who the unrequited feelings were for, after all he had been lying to himself that he only admired Rusty professionally for a long time now.

He shook his head and cleaned up the rest of the blood from the sink burying them as deep as he could in the bathroom wastebasket. He really hoped it wasn’t Rusty because he couldn’t hold down a relationship for more than a week if it wasn’t related to a con. So in short if it was Rusty he was screwed.

He turned exiting the bathroom to seek out Danny knowing he would be able to resolve this once and for all. Danny was in the kitchen getting snacks for the poker game they had all been playing before he had to excuse himself.

“Hey Danny,” he said as nonchalantly as he could. “I remember the rest of the crew mentioned that someone had a birthday coming up in December who is it?”

Danny turned to look at him. “Well the only person I know who has a birthday in December is Rusty.”

“Fuck.” Linus hadn’t meant to let the expletive slip out

Danny gave him a surprised look that quickly turned to concern. “What’s wrong Linus? This isn’t really about the crew talking about birthdays is it?”

This was of course when his traitorous body decided to send him into a coughing fit leaving him holding two more poinsettia petals in his now blood streaked hands leaving Danny to give him a very confused look. “Linus what’s going on?”

“Ever heard of Hanahaki disease?” Linus asked giving him a grim smile.

“Yeah but hardly anyone gets it nowadays.” Danny says his voice indicating he is beginning to slowly understand.

“Yeah well.” He grimaced.

“Rusty?” Danny guessed.

Linus nods not trusting himself to speak. Danny sighs heavily looking from Linus to the petals in his hands. “Poinsettias huh?”

“He’s a December baby so yeah. Please you can’t tell him Danny.” Linus pleaded.

Danny sighs heavily. “You’ll die Linus.”

“I know.” Linus says his voice breaking. “But you know he can’t love me back he’s incapable of it and he’ll only hold himself responsible for what he can’t control.”

“Fine, your right but you can’t keep this sort of thing from him he’s to observant for that and the petals are kinda obvious so if he asks I’ll tell him what’s wrong but I wouldn’t tell him who it’s about.” Danny compromises.

Linus gives Danny a grateful look. “Thanks, let’s get back to the game I just wanna take my mind off this and enjoy the time I have left.”

Of course actually avoiding the subject doesn’t last long because halfway through the card game the three of them were playing Linus dissolves into another coughing fit knocking himself and his chair over backwards.

Rusty comes over to help him up only noticing the petals he’s coughing up after he’s got Linus on his feet again. “What the hell are those?”

Linus looks down at the mouthful of petals he just coughed up leaning over to pick them up pulling one more out of his mouth and adding it to the pile in his hands. “Petals.” He says simply.

“Why the hell and how the hell did you just cough up petals?” Rusty looks from him to the pile in his hands and back again.

“I’ll explain everything why don’t you just go get some water Linus.” Danny says gently.

Linus has barely sat down at the kitchen table and taken a sip of water when he hears an angry shout and a crash of something that sounds like a beer bottle hitting the wall in the other room it’s not ten seconds later that Rusty joins him in the kitchen looking more pissed off then Linus has ever seen him.

“Who is it kid.” His hands are clenched into fists his fingernails digging white crescents into his skin.

Linus laughs hoarsely. “And you’ll what force them to love me?”

“If I have to, yes” Rusty practically growls the words.

Linus shakes his head. “No Rusty you won’t, you can’t”

Rusty opens his mouth to protest but Linus leaves before he can say anything else.

It goes on like this for a week Linus doing his best to avoid Rusty and Danny playing go between. But after a week Rusty has had enough breaking into Linus’s room while Danny’s out barging In with a simple statement. “Who ever they are their a fool.”

Linus laughs leaning back into his pillows on his bed. “No their not.”

“Well if they don’t love you than they absolutely are.” Rusty insists.

“No,” Linus repeats “their not.”

“Prove it,” Rusty is on the verge of screaming. “tell me who they are.”

“No.” Linus shakes his head.

“Why not if they rejected you they don’t deserve your protection Linus.” Rusty perches on the edge of Linus’s bed.

“They didn’t reject me I just know they can’t love me back I haven’t told them.” Linus doesn’t meet Rusty’s eyes.

Rusty inhales sharply. “Linus your dying you have to at least try.”

“No,” Linus sets his jaw stubbornly. “I won’t put that on them they’ll only blame themselves for what they can’t control.”

“I will never forgive myself if I can’t at least try to save you Linus.” Rusty’s voice is little more than a broken whisper.

Linus laughs almost hysterically. “Fuck me, there really is no winning.”

“I won’t let you die Linus.” Rusty says softly.

Linus dissolves into another coughing fit leaning over the wastebasket he kept on hand almost constantly now. Once he’s able to breathe again he wipes the blood from his lips and stares down at the petals covered in blood that fill the basket.

“It’s you.” Linus croaks out hoarsely.

Linus barely dares to look at Rusty following his confession purposely avoiding his gaze but Rusty persistently pulls Linus chin to meet his gaze.

“I wish you would have told me sooner Linus you could have avoided so much pain.” Rusty says giving him a small smile.

A tear slips down Linus’s cheek. “Love isn’t your thing I didn’t want you to feel responsible for my death.”

Rusty sighs. “Do you know why things didn’t work with Isabel? Because I’ve been in love with you since the moment I met you.”

Linus inhales sharply and for the first time in a week he didn’t feel petals rattling around in his chest. “Rusty..”

Rusty cuts him off by kissing him and Linus sure isn’t complaining.

———

Danny comes home an hour later to find Linus asleep and Rusty perched on the edge of his bed.

“Please tell me he’s just sleeping.” Danny says feeling the fear fill his heart.

Rusty nods standing and pulling Danny out of Linus’s room gently shutting the door behind him, he doesn’t speak until he’s pulled him down stairs into the kitchen.

“Did you know?” Rusty demands

Danny blanches. “Know what?”

“Don’t play dumb with me Danny.” Rusty growls.

“Yes I knew.” Danny admits.

Rusty swears profusely. “Why didn’t you tell me Danny.”

“What good would it have done Rusty?” Danny placates

“The world of good!” Rusty only keeps himself from screaming so as not to wake Linus it was the first real sleep he’d gotten in a week.

“He doesn’t want you to blame yourself Rusty.” Danny needs him to understand.

“I love him and I had to watch him spend a week in agony!” Rusty hisses viciously.

Danny balks at him. “You.. Really?”

Rusty nods. “Since the moment I laid eyes on him but I told myself that I’m no good for him I tried to stay away and make things work with Isabel but it’s always been him.”

Danny laughs. “Well I’ll be damned.”

———

Linus looked in the mirror one more time before heading down stairs where Rusty was waiting to take him on their first date.

“Hey,” Rusty gives him a loving smile and hands him a box of chocolates. “I didn’t think that you would ever want to see another flower as long as you live.”

Linus laughs. “As grateful as I am for the end result no I definitely do not.”

Rusty grins and grabs his hand. “Common I can’t wait to get you out of here.”

“How come?” Linus questions.

“Because I wanna get you home.” Rusty says with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes

“Oh now I can’t wait.” Linus smiles.

Linus may never look at a poinsettia the same way again and the holiday session might make him a little uneasy but he would forever be grateful for the happiness it had brought him with rusty.

[femmesandhoney]

is this an american thing? bc the paramedics and nurses i know go to the hospital for the smallest cuts if they think it might need stitches or glue, and in all the first aid courses ive had they stressed that first aid is just whatever you can do to stabilise a patient before they can seek out a medical professional (cpr or tourniquets in the most extreme cases), and you're not supposed to perform actual procedures

yeah no i wasn't talking about giving yourself medical ops in your home unless you actually understand what you're doing at least, which there are people out there who do go the distance to learn how to handle minor emergencies in their house and i applaud them. most americans though really don't want to be going to the ER or even an urgent care if it can be avoided, since they will bill you to the moon for the smallest thing. so yeah i do think getting yourself something like a suturing kit will probably come in handy one day, even if it's not yourself you're helping.

also i'm really not talking about first aid in the sense of tourniquets, though a good to skill to have, but i doubt most people want to buy a tourniquet lmao. i was more shocked my roommates didn't have jackshit except bandaids! i dislike the attitude of "well i don't hurt/cut/injure myself so i don't need to buy those things" because guess what, when you do hurt yourself you will have no fucking desire to go out at that moment to buy the shit you need while actively injured lmao. like they had no antiseptics, no ointments, no gauze, no anything to clean a decently bad cut. my roommate kept handing me paper towel to apply pressure with which was just not working. i was like yall have NOTHING?