#luring overseas

[intromortal]

―ɴᴏᴛ ᴇɴᴏᴜɢʜ

bodyguard!p.js x nepobaby!reader

―wc: 10k est (well that was a fucking lie)

―cw: SMUTTTT, jealousy, feelings of unworthiness, possessive jay, angst, some lack of communication we love overthinking, not very professional behavior, more to be added

―release date: 10th june postponed

― series masterlist

―preview

You truly were a vixen, Jay though to himself, a dirty dirty vixen.

You had lured him in slowly. First with longing glances, your eyes flicking from his own to his lips whenever he talked to you. Then, you started trying to get his attention by dropping hints about your slow sexual life. “It’s not like I don’t have options,” you’d say over lunch while peering up from your cosmopolitan, the peel of a blood orange always adorning the rim of the glass as per your request. You’d fix your eyes on him, the hairs on his neck standing at the intensity of your gaze, “It’s just that none of these options seem fun or appealing enough.”

You could have anyone you wanted, and Jay knew that very well. Gorgeous gorgeous face and long thick lashes batting at him while feigning innocence from time to time, but you just happened to have a weak spot for what you couldn't have.

-

Jay suspected you would do something drastic when you eventually got frustrated enough. Something like kissing him out of the blue maybe. He could even say he was prepared to reject it, reject you, forbidden fruit luring him in. Gluttony hidden behind the promise of bliss.

What he did not expect was for you to get in the middle of the backseat while he was driving you to your penthouse after an event, position each one of your heeled feet on the back of the front seats, flip your gown up and slide your fingers inside your pretty white lace panties. Right where he could see.

He paid you no mind for the entirety of the car ride, never once telling you to stop, gaze fixed on the road ahead. You’d think he was completely unaffected if it weren’t for how hard he gripped the steering wheel, the veins on his hands bulging and knuckles turning white.

He even got up from his seat once you arrived home calmly as usual, only the shutting of his door louder than it needed to be. He opened yours silently, walked with you inside the elevator to get you inside your penthouse.

But when the door of your apartment shut close behind you he was all over you in an instant, teeth clashing against yours in a frenzied, passionate kiss. Sensual pants and rips of fabric the only sounds filling the huge modernly decorated space. He didn’t even allow you to walk to your room, you tortured him for months, even the thought of waiting for a second more than necessary was unfathomable to Jay. He wanted you then and he was gonna have you whenever and however he pleased, he was owed that much.

He had you spread for him on the big sectional couch in your living room, holding the back of your thighs as he pounded into you with force he never knew he was capable of. He had you propped over the armrest, stomach red from the roughness of the material and ass up, red from the roughness of his hands, your upper body pushed forward each thrust as the skin of his balls slapped against your behind. He had you facing him, holding yourself up on your arms, legs spread over his as his hips drove inside you from underneath, lifting from the soft carpet.

You two kept fucking after, sporadically escaping from the public eye to hide in a dressing room, his thick fingers inside your mouth to silence your moans. In the car parked away somewhere abandoned, riding him in the backseat, hands gripping the front seats as you bounced on his cock. In the shower of an expensive hotel overseas, your hair in a makeshift ponytail in his hand as he fucked your sore mouth on his length, twitching every time you held eye contact with him through your gags. You even managed to sneak him in your office, his tongue lapping you up from under the desk, hidden from the eyes of the businessman sat in front of you.

It went on like this for a while, before he showed up to your front door one time in the dead of the night, soaked from head to toe from the downpour descending outside.

or

Jay wants you for himself more than he would ever dare to admit, but knows all you're in for is a bit of forbidden fun.

[hilacopter]

I find it ironic that western leftists demand israelis leave israel because we're all white colonizers in their eyes (regardless of the fact that even if jews really weren't indigenous to the levant, which we are, over half the population is middle eastern anyway), but when we do leave israel for other countries we get hatecrimed. it would be bad enough if we had people telling us "good on you for going back to where you came from" or some shit but no they really just view us as inherently irredeemable and evil no matter where we are. almost feels like they're trying to lure us into being harassed overseas.

[holy-puckslibrary]

━ 𝐅*𝐂𝐊 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑.

-ˏˋ. 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ˊˎ-

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — FWB!matthew tkachuk x f!reader 𝐰𝐜 — 1.7k 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 — "old habits die hard..." — or, your boyfriend won’t fuck you right, so you run to the one person who always does.

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — patrons know the chokehold this toxic sin-fest has on me and probably always will... in all seriousness, this is one of my favorite things i've ever published and i am so insanely proud of it. i hope you love it as much as i do <3

(spoiler — not possible teehee)

18+ MDNI — content warnings under the cut.

𝐜𝐰 — profanity, innuendo, matthew’s filthy mouth and lack of morals, cheating (not on matty or the reader), outdated/incorrect information about having sex for the first time, borderline too much degradation, some objectification to add a little spice, unprotected sex w a cheeky creampie (what did you expect from two morally bankrupt individuals written by me, a retired whore?), matthew being a noncommittal, possessive piece of shit joking about knocking people up for funzies

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“D’you think you’re so addicted to my cock because you know I don’t give a fuck what you think about me? Or care if you think I’m a Nice Guy?”

Even buried to the hilt—bare with nothing between you and far too fucking close for comfort—Matthew Tkachuk runs his mouth like he’s got nothing to lose and even less to prove. He’s insufferable, his only redeeming quality being the pulsing appendage threatening to split you in half as you buck in his lap.

With your hands braced against his hard chest for leverage, you drown out his grating voice, chasing the white-hot surges, bolts of lightning leading you to the brink of collapse with renewed vigor.

The sooner you come, the sooner he’s gone.

“All I care about, sweetheart, is fucking you good and hard. Giving it to you like the hungry, cockdrunk whore that you are.”

Debonair attitude. Sly confidence. Vulgar demeanor.

Filthy fucking mouth.

You were warned about Matthew Tkachuck. Repeatedly. Warned about him and his complete lack of a filter, about his total disregard for anyone’s feelings but his own. His aversion to commitment, to monogamy, to propriety.

All the things that repulse you about the man lounging on expensive hotel sheets beneath you—as you do all the work—lure you back to him in equal measure. He shouldn’t turn you on, but that’s exactly why he does. He’s all wrong, wrong, wrong.

Which makes him just right.

“I bet if your fiancé walked in right now, you’d just keep riding me. You wouldn’t even notice, would you? After all, you haven’t cum yet. And that’s all you care about, right? Using my cock to get your rocks off because Billy Boyfriend’s too scared to give you what you really need. Lucky for you, I’m not a fuckin’ pussy. I don’t treat you like a fragile doll because I know you’ll take anything I give you—and beg for more. I treat you like what you are, not some chaste little princess.”

You’ve been with Bill for nearly a decade, engaged for more than a year. It’ll be a spring wedding, probably. If the venue pans out, and the caterer finally calls you back with a final quote.

Perfect on paper.

He doesn’t pay attention to you the way he used to. Just throws money at the problem until he can bury himself in work again, undisturbed by you or nagging obligation.

Flowers for being three hours late, a necklace for missing dinner entirely. A trip overseas when he had to go into the office on your anniversary.

But he’s nice, so fucking nice it hurts, and more loyal than the Golden Retriever he wants to adopt after the honeymoon. After you’re settled into a custom-build nestled comfortably in the suburbs and far away from the city. White picket fence, manicured lawn, barely-there speed limits.

It's all so nauseatingly idyllic. So perfectly attuned with what you thought you wanted, what you spent your childhood coveting.

All your single friends are jealous; your committed friends are resentful. Your family loves him, and even though you’ve got a fucked up way of showing it, so do you.

And he loves you too. He’s just busy. It’ll be different once we’re settled, he says. You try to believe him, though not as hard as you should. You tell yourself it's because he doesn’t either.

Bill’s gotten lazy. You’ve gotten bored.

You’re no angel, and never claimed to be. You just want to feel good.

Matthew barks out a dry laugh, almost like he can read your mind.

“You haven’t been since I first got you on your knees at his birthday party. And definitely not after I popped that sweet cherry you were so adamant about saving for him."

Bill doesn’t fuck you. He never has.

He makes love to you. It’s that romance-novel tenderness that got you here in the first place. Slow, sweet, and nearly devoid of passion. It’s so gentle you have to think of him just to come.

How he fucks you.

How tightly he yanks your hair, craning your neck until it aches. How hard he kneads and smacks your ass, bullying the skin until you sob. How deep his cock reaches. And how he takes, takes, takes without forethought. How could you accept a lifetime of only tame rutting in the face of Pavlovian depravity?

It’s awful, and it's so profoundly selfish, but his everything has you in a bind.

Matthew’s everything is ruining your life.

An uncharacteristic wave of guilt and sadness washes over you, and before you can catch yourself, you’re staring down at the engagement ring. The band constricts, digging into your finger like it's out for blood when you glimpse the indentation it left behind on Matthew’s peck. You wince, then choke down the shame lodged in your throat, screwing your eyes shut to will it away.

“If it's bothering you that much, take it off. I’ll keep it safe for you.” —wink— “I can’t imagine the weight of a rock like that, especially one you don’t even deserve. But, if you actually felt as guilty as you claim to, you wouldn’t be this wet on another man’s cock. Don’t play saint now. You’ll ruin the fun.”

You can’t do this right now; you can’t have this worn-out fight. So, you say what you always say even though you’ve long since stopped trying to mean it.

“You keep saying that, sweetheart. We should stop. This is the last time. But no matter what you say, you always come crawling back to me sooner or later because I have what you need. Because I’m not him. Because I fuck you better.”

His words light you on fire. You hate it, but how deeply your body enjoys them is undeniable. How tightly you squeeze and flutter with every degrading line, choking his cock as you use him to satisfy your own perverted needs. How his brutal honesty, his refusal to let you forget your zealous participation in the affair for even a second, arches your back and hardens your nipples.

Even without all that evidence stacked against you, the blitzed-out look on your face says it all. One look at you and everyone would know just how right Matthew is.

“Shut the fuck up,” you growl.

You say it for the sake of saying it. To know, when you curl into Bill's side tonight, that you said something to deny his assessment of you.

But the last thing you want is for him to shut his mouth.

Not right now, not when you’re right there—

“You can’t hide from me, sweetheart, and you can’t lie to me. You can’t fool me, either. I see right fucking through you. It terrifies you—and you love it.”

His raspy voice swims freely through your hollowed-out mind. It unwittingly thumbs through every unforgivable memory, like some sort of pornographic Rolodex.

Matthew’s hips grinding against yours in darkened corners and dive-bar bathroom stalls and poker tables.

His hands fighting against hard-earned sweat in the foggy backseat of his car, battling to find purchase anywhere he can so he can keep rutting with reckless abandon before you’re expected home.

His fingertips burrowing into the sides of your throat, hard enough to bruise, hard enough to silence, hard enough to hurt.

Him spilling inside of you, ropes painting the sacred place white with no remorse or expectation of responsibility.

Matty’s hand over your mouth, urging you to be fucking quiet as he pistons in and out, in and out, keeping you pinned against the bathroom door, against the only thing standing between Bill and the worst discovery of his apple-pie life—

Old habits die hard.

Especially when it’s one that always feels that fucking good. No matter how lecherous or immoral.

Or how badly the betrayal would hurt someone underserving and innocent.

“Even if you walk down that aisle and take his last name, you’ll still belong to me. Wedding or not, this pathetic, weeping cunt belongs to me. But it’s all gonna be okay, though. Don’t you worry that pretty, empty head. I don’t mind sharing my toys. Especially with someone who could never compete.”

You can't compete where you don't compare.

He doesn’t want to be your boyfriend. He doesn’t want to be anyone’s boyfriend. He isn’t the Relationship Type. He doesn’t even want to be exclusive. That’s part of his appeal, no matter how fervently you deny it. He doesn’t want more than pleasure—primal, deviant pleasure—and that’s all you're looking for.

That's all you need.

“Where do you want my load, dirty girl?”

“Inside. I-Inside me, please, Matty.”

“Right answer.”

The burst of warmth is like getting a perfect grade you didn’t earn. Or feeling the cash your sibling gave you in exchange for not ratting them out sitting in your back pocket. It's hard to feel bad about the wrong you’ve done when the payoff is so deliciously worthwhile.

Matthew twitches, still hugged by your sensitive walls, and you shudder.

This is the high you chase every time you bend your morals until they splinter. The still nothingness that lays beyond the denouement, where everything is glowy and the pit inside you appears not-so-bottomless for once. The lack of expectations and obligations. The sheer freedom that stringless pleasure, that sensual self-indulgence provides.

Matthew doesn’t owe you anything, you don’t owe him anything either, and neither of you pretends otherwise.

And you sure as fuck don’t trip on his dirty laundry every time you walk into the bedroom.

“If that doesn’t take,” Matthew flicks his hips in emphasis, “…let me know when and where you want your wedding present, sweetheart.”

You don’t answer. You push his hands away and roll off of him unceremoniously. But he keeps talking.

Matthew is always talking.

“Oh, and before I forget, would you be a dear and let Billy know I won’t be able to make it for his bachelor party? I don’t know why, but I have the oddest feeling that something desperately needing my attention will come up.”

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All of the stories and fantasies written or discussed on this blog by the owner or by followers are purely fictional and are not intended to offend any parties.

©2023 holy-pucks, all rights reserved. I do not give consent for any of my work to be copied, re-posted or translated here, on Tumblr, or on any other platform. Reproduction of any content from this blog is considered plagiarism.

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[gemmahale]

Okay, I'm home, I've been on the road for the better part of 4 hours today due to a miscommunication and a cancelled event, and I've had this rant brewing.

Being Anti-Military and Pro-Veteran are stances that can mutually exist.

Games like CoD and whatever other FPS/Military Simulation game is out there is propaganda. It’s meant to make you want to sign up or support military action.

The military (I’m speaking specifically to the US, as I am most familiar with them by proxy) uses some incredibly underhanded techniques to ensure they have the warm bodies soldiers they need to keep the system working as intended.

This includes but is not limited to: promises of paying for education, aspirations of “seeing the world”, provision of job security, access to healthcare, a stable job and housing, etc. They use things like “patriotism” and “glory” and “security” to lure people in.

And then, when that person is wholly and completely reliant on the military - for a paycheck, housing, healthcare, you name it - they spit them back out into the world with a "thanks a lot and good fucking luck."

Into a world where:

Financial support for care has been axed and axed and axed again under "budget cuts"

Care is secured with red tape so thick you can tightrope walk across it

Care is denied for things the military caused (by saying "it didn't happen while you were serving".) *Yes, that's a direct quote from a doctor to one of Kallen's peers. When assessing a life-altering injury sustained while they were in country overseas, it was deemed as "non-service related injury”.

In comparison to civilians:

Veterans are ~40% more likely to be homeless.

Veterans are ~80% more likely to suffer from untreated mental and physical health issues - PTSD, hearing loss, nerve damage, etc.

Veterans are ~60% more likely to turn to addictive substances - alcohol, drugs, etc.

Veterans are ~70% more likely to commit suicide.

This isn’t limited to combat vets. Logistics specialists, administrative specialists, IT specialists all get screwed when they leave.

Ask just about any veteran that has served, they are incredibly likely to be staunchly anti-military.

The military causes a tremendous amount of damage to every person involved, even if they aren't aware of it at the time.

It’s a cult, it’s an abusive relationship, it’s predatory. Treat it as such.

Support veterans, advocate for their care. They made choices you may not agree with, but they made them because of what they thought the military was offering to them. Many thought they were doing the right thing for their country - that was the lie they were fed from 9/11 on (in the US). Then they were chewed up, spit out, and left for dead by the same people that made all those promises to them.

Here are some US-based, apolitical Veteran Support groups (many have International chapters/members):

22 Until None - 501-C3 that provides support to veterans by veterans. There are local chapters on Facebook that are all active and are listed on the website

Disabled American Veteran - Veteran help association; involved in legislation and local assistance, connections to VA advocates to help navigate the VA

Wounded Warrior Project - 501-C3 charity supporting disabled veterans.

Note: I am absolutely not doing the "not all servicemembers" thing here. I'm saying "veterans are living with their choices, and still deserve access to care."

[yridenergyridenergy]

Die's Food Diary in Europe (March 2024 tour)

For the magazine Weekly Shinchou April 25th 2024 issue, Die wrote a blog of what he ate on Dir en grey's trip to Europe. Their flight lasted 14 hours.

March 18th – After landing in Warsaw, he went to a seafood restaurant but seeing as he doesn't like seafood or raw food, he ordered a beef steak, which he was satisfied with.

March 19th – Die ate breakfast at the hotel. The buffet typically contains ham, scrambled eggs, salad, bread and coffee. There were sausages and bacon, but they seemed oily/greasy and he was concerned about how much fat they contained. By the third day there though, he started getting bored with that menu.

The lunch is catered by the venue for the concert. It had ham, cheese, bread and minestrone. Because it was the first day and that preparations were hectic, he actually went on stage for that first show without eating dinner. After the show ended, he enjoyed a traditional Italian risotto with mushrooms.

March 20th – Before the second show, he ate pierogi for dinner. He commented that it looks like gyoza but that the taste is "modest"? He also highlighted how it was difficult to get used to the time of day because of how late the shows start in Europe.

March 21st – The band and the staff left on a double-decker bus toward Paris. Die bumped his head on the ceiling of the second floor because it's really low. The bunk beds are narrow for his height but they're decent once he got used to them. They all ate from a service area/stop along the way but Die, not wanting to succumb to the temptation of eating fast food, ate leftovers of a burrito prepared the previous night... which he then realizes can count as fast food too hah.

March 22nd – He ate from traditional French home-style meals that appeared to have been cooked in-house at the venue. Die was excited to try the food out but all the names were in French... The only meal that he could recognize visually was a quiche. I think he ended up trying a few regardless of not knowing what he was eating and he was satisfied.

Die was a bit nervous before going on stage because of the Bataclan's tragic event in 2015 (terrorist shooting). After the show, he had take-out bolognese pasta with thick noodles.

March 23rd – Apparently a fan from Japan gave them takoyaki, which was however heavier than pure takoyaki. He found the taste powdery. All the band members stuffed their faces with takoyaki. The band always receives a bunch of instant food from Japanese fans when they tour overseas, it seems. If someone on the bus starts eating something like ramen, the others are lured in by the smell and they will likely indulge as well. He doesn't usually take (instant?) ramen in Japan, but he finds it tasty on tour overseas.

For dinner, he had kebabs before the show, and pizza afterward. In the end, he did succumb to junk food.

March 24th – Breakfast was served on the ferry boat's restaurant. He took fried eggs, mushrooms, tomatoes and bread while looking out at the sea. At night, he went to a local yakiniku-style restaurant with his American friends. While the atmosphere was similar to a Japanese yakiniku, he felt sorry for his friends about the taste of the food.

......... A menu critic highlighted at the end of the diary that Die had not eaten any fruit or vegetables hahah.

[magicunderstandsmyaddiction]

BKDK CODEPENDENCY- a little thing I wrote in my notes app bus they’re taking over my brain

Postwar bakudeku who are heavily co-dependant on each other but still in that awkward stage of their friendship where they are not quite comfortable enough to be touching so they look for the smallest excuses to be near. They partner up because “they’re the strongest and they push each other the most.” But they can only get so far into their second year of school without the class noticing how they’re ALWAYS around each other. “Hey where midoriya?” “ I dont know but I saw bakugou heading to the lounge room” and it just makes sense. And OH MY GOD there’s no escaping the way bakugou talks to him. It literally gives everyone whiplash. He’s so soft and gentle. Like yeah he throws in the occasional insult and Izuku might bite back but the way he significantly lowers his voice because he knows that even after all they’ve been through and how much they’ve both changed izuku is still that same little kid craving for a hint of his kindness. And it’s the way that midoriya will lure him out of a loud room with the ease of a siren. And everyone teases bakugou for it saying stuff about how he follows midoriya everywhere and he’ll deny it but he genuinely can’t not follow him. his body craves to be near him like he’s a drug. When they do finally get together they PHYSICALLY CANT BE PULLED APART. It’s not in a sucking on each others faces in the middle of a hallway like typical high school kids; Katsuki is not only deeply afraid but also heavily despises PDA. So they’ll just hold pinkies in public and izuku will sneak a kiss when no ones looking. Katsuki is very much an acts of service man so that means breakfast in bed when izus sick, laundry is usually all done since he will just do their clothes together. They practically live in each others rooms now. There’s just no putting in words how co-dependent they are. They CRUMBLE when they’re without each other, on some nana and ren shit, panic attacks from both parties when they have to go on overseas mission without each other especially from izuku. The trauma of what happened with bakugo because he wasn’t there when he needed him to be haunts Izuku well into his pro hero years. It’s not just each other physically they need each other though, as bakugou gets older (18-23) and his hearing gets worse the panic attacks become more frequent, he can’t call into the next room over and hear his boyfriend and that HAUNTS HIM until he and mei figure out a way for him to get cohealer implants that he won’t have to replace every mission.

[swampstew]

Eustass Kid, G-49 ~ Glory Hole

Summary: Sea-trow: a malignant or mischievous fairy or spirit, regarded as monstrous giants at times. Trows are nocturnal creatures, they venture out of their 'trowie knowes' (earthen mound dwellings) solely in the evening, and often enter households as the inhabitants sleep. Trows traditionally have a fondness for music, kidnapping musicians or luring them to their dens, and having sexual intercourse with women on their land. They are regarded as hideous creatures that are hung like horses. This is the story of their glow up and thriving business model.

Warnings: Spicy, modern monster au, Eustass Kid as a Sea-Trow, Female reader, glory hole/reverse glory hole trope, fingering and vaginal penetration, creampie, degradation, calling reader slut and pet names, Kid being an amazing Dom. Not edited cause I'm stoned and sleepy. Word Count: 2K

Visiting a glory hole was one of your secret kinks – always too shy to share with anyone you’d ever been intimate with. Even soft voyeurism suggestions like car sex while in your relationships gave you surprised and shocked looks. Tempering your appetites, you hid a part of yourself under lock and key until circumstances found you free again. Emboldened, excited for adventure, ready to shed the weight of judgment – you were finally going to try it out.

Your fantasy included either having your body used at a glory hole or visiting one to play at. Due to the stigma, glory holes became nearly extinct. In fact, you had to resort to using the internet to finding any, but thanks to the help of some kink friendly resources and associates, you found a list of the last remaining glory holes, and to your delight, it was a global map.

Deciding to cash in your hoarded holiday time at work, you booked a flight overseas to visit an online friend in the kink community you felt safe with. They offered to go with you as well, for the experience and to be your buddy in case things went wrong. It made you feel better, though you still felt timid as you parked in a dim parking lot adjacent to a nearly deserted beach.

The air was breezy but not too cold, just shy of the fall weather, and music was pounding from the shack down the beach. Some people filtered in and out, some smoked down by the shoreline, but the shack doors were always forcibly closed as soon as someone cleared the threshold.

Exhaling away your anxiety, you entered. Then you stepped through another double set of doors. Then you were inside.

Down the hallway were picture frames of the…options. None showed their faces, but they showed everything else. Magnificent physiques, sculpted bodies, chubby bodies, scarred bodies, eccentric styles, colorful hair and painted nails accessorized their bodies – but the draw of course, were their huge cocks.

Your jaw dropped – certain you’ve never seen them that big before. Under each frame was a short bio and the person’s house name, and what the list of kinks they were into. There were two options: glory hole, reverse glory hole.

“Some of our young stallions don’t mind showing their face,” a tall woman with an old-fashioned crown on her head walked towards them with a clipboard in hand. “Quincy, house madam. You’re in luck, a few of our studs are available.”

“Which ones?” your friend inquired.

Quincy’s hair bounced as she flounced to each picture frame, sometimes turning the frame to show a face. A man with long blue locks that partially covered his thorn tattoos, a man with a burned right arm and massive pecs with flowing blonde mane, a sculpted man so tall the picture was taken with a wide lens scope. A handful more were shown but your eyes stayed glued to the frame of the heavily scarred man with a metal prosthetic arm, bulging drool-inducing muscles on a buff frame, red happy trail that led down to his generously proportioned cock, framed with that same red hair.

The madam noticed your staring and with a smirk flipped the frame over. Revealing a gorgeous face with equally heavy scarring. Fiery red hair styled in tufts, heavy black eyeliner defined his sharp, golden eyes, and deep matte red lipstick gracing a handsome smile. Your heart was pounding.

“Would you like to use him?” Quincy asked. You nodded, unable to speak from such a parched mouth. “I’m sure he’ll be excited to meet you. If this is your first time, I’d recommend the reverse hole, especially with a beast like him.”

Sheer heat pooled between your legs as you nodded.

“Right this way.”

-- Quincy placed you in a small room that was partially lit with candles, peering at all the framed photos of The Bull as you undressed. You sat on the custom bench that was mounted to the partition wall – a large heart shaped hole in the wall with a harness to strap you in and hold your legs back.

“Ya’know the rules, darling?” a gruff voice came from the other side of the wall, making you jump in surprise. “The safe words an’ everything?”

You nodded before realizing he couldn’t see you, “Y-yes. The three color system: green for good, yellow for slow down, red for stop.”

“Thass’good lass. Was told this is y’first time in a place like this – don’t pretend you enjoy something if y’don’t. Say something, ya hear?”

“Y-yes.”

He let out a light chuckle, “Ooh a shy one eh? I’ll show ya a good time, don’t y’worry. Ready to strap in?”

“Uh, um one moment,” you gasp, suddenly feeling a bit overwhelmed. All you had to do was lay down on the bench, scoot your ass through the hole, put the harness around your thighs to keep you up, but you were moving sluggishly. Red flushing your body as you came to the precipice of a fantasy you had long suppressed, long been shamed for.

“Oi,” his voice was soft, “Having regrets?”

With a wavering voice you summarize the shame you felt and bad experiences, tears spilling down your face completely embarrassed.

“S’ok, darling. There’s no shame here,” he whispered. “Want me to strap you in?”

“Ye-yess, erm, is that…is that allowed?”

“TCH. O’course it’s allowed. I own the feckin place.”

You were surprised to find that the hollow partition wall had a door behind the floor length mirror so you jumped again when The Bull ducked inside your side of the room. His photos didn’t do him justice. He was practically a giant compared to you. Large limbed, every bit as good looking in the flesh, the way his eyes pierced you made you feel like you were seen for the first time. That you would be ok in his hands.

He held out his hand, a pleased grin curled on his face when you grabbed it. Gently shifting you down the cherry oak wood, massaging your bare bottom as he eased you into the opening, caressing your calves and thighs as he slipped on the harness straps.

“Thassa good lass indeed,” he purred, ���So shy and obedient. I’ll give ya somethin’ special I don’t do for no one else if yer honest with me,” he said. With his flesh hand he cupped your mound, making you shudder and moan at the contact. “How’s it feel?”

“G-good!” you were breathless.

“Ya’ lyin?”

“No-no! I’m green, good to go!”

His face relaxed and he grinned again, “Good.” He then plunged a thick digit into your pussy making you clench and squeak in pleasure. He thrusted shallowly a few times before pulling out, wiping his finger down your body until he cupped your cheek. “I’m gonna have fun with ya. Pull more squeaks from ya, little mouse.”

He smashed his red lips into yours with ravenous need, leaving you panting and pleading for more. He pulled away with a teasing nip on your bottom lip, looking at you with a devious smirk. He leaned back down and pressed an open-mouth kiss on your neck, sucking it harshly to leave a mark.

“So everyone here knows you’re my little plaything,” He fondled one breast while he sucked the nipple of the other before leaving to his side again.

“Ready fer’me darling?” his voice was deeper, huskier.

“Yy-yes, I’m ready,” your hips wiggled impatiently.

“First things first, dirty girl,” he mocked you, lightly slapping a rubber packet on your clit making you arch your back. “I don’t shoot my load in ya unless y’buy me dinner first.”

Before you could giggle, you choked out a gasp as he rubbed his stiff cock between your folds, jutting against your clit. He teased you while muttering out all the things he would do to you, all the positions he’d have you in just to see your cute face pinched in ecstasy – you felt his metal hand slap the wall making it tremble. Rubbing his thumb on your clit with more pressure, keeping his tip at the edge of you entrance to feel you clench around nothing, so close to penetrating you but not quite there.

“Wassa mistake seein’ ya,” his voice sounded restrained, “I wanta bust on yer face instead of in this feckin rubber piece o’shit!”

You heard him loudly grunt as he sunk into you, pushing out all the air from your lungs. He was stretching you far beyond what you’ve ever experienced and despite it burning just a wee bit, the pleasure was far overtaking the minor pain. His fat cock pressed against all the right areas making you pulse on him, your legs shook against the restraints as you tried to wrap your thighs around his hips.

“Ahhh shit,” he growled, “So feckin tight! Ease up or I won’t last long darling!”

You thought you were answering but instead a wail was ripped from your throat as he changed his pace from rapid thrusting to long, slow strokes. Coaxing your orgasm while tempering his own. His painted nails dug into the back of your thigh as his metal fingers dug into the wooden wall, slowly denting with the mounting pressure he applied.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been fucked so well, felt so full, felt like such a toy but still felt important enough to be taken care of. The Bull railed you over and over again, making it his personal mission to make sure you cum at least eight times before he was done with you.

“Thassa good pet!” he grunted after the seventh one. “Took me so well, d’ya want more special treatment?”

You babbled out what you hoped was a yes.

“Well well well, turns out you weren’t a wee mouse but a desperate bunny ready to be bred. Is’that what y’want darling? Want me to rip this condom off and bust on ya? Are you a kinky lass, wantin’ it inside ya? I think you’re a slutty little thing, slutty little bunny who wants m’cum dripping from her greedy hole. What’sit gonna be darling?”

“FU-FU FUCCCCKK MEEEE!!!!” you cried.

He hooted, “I already am darling!”

“FUUCK IT IN MEEEEEE!!!!”

“There’s my slutty bunny,” he grinned, and in one swift motion yanked the soiled rubber off his angry red cock, it bobbed in frustration at the sudden cool air and loss of tightness. With a moan, The Bull filled you up to the hilt in one swift thrust.

Shrieking at the overstimulation, your puffy clit throbbed against The Bull’s matted pubic hair as he ground into you. His forehead pressing into the wall as he bullied his cock into you deeper and deeper. Your toes curled as your last orgasm peaked, letting out a hoarse cry as your body shook from the heat that spread throughout you.

Your ears started ringing from the hazy pleasure that washed your body, vaguely aware of the man on the other side of the wall who was clutching your thighs and slamming his hips rabidly as he emptied himself inside you. Could hear his satisfied growl through the background noise, it sounded so far away and yet so near.

You came back to reality when you realized he was back in your side of the room, pulling your legs from the harness and wiping you down.

“There she is,” he grinned, “How’re ya feeling?”

“Go-good, no, fucking, fucking great,” you sigh tiredly.

“Heh, you look wiped out. You need to drink and eat. C’mon, I’m goin’ with ya.”

“You-you are?” you’re surprised as you pull your clothes on.

“Haah! Y’re takin’ me to dinner darling. I put a lotta work into rockin yer world, least ya could do is buy me a burger and beer! Learn my name or somethin’. Is’yer first time to this part of the world right? Y’ever hear about Sea-trowls?”

You hadn’t noticed before that his feet and hand had a hint of webbing between his digits, his feet themselves were shaped more like horse hooves. Despite the leather jacket he donned on, you could see the back of his neck seemed to glimmer, as if the skin on his back was less skin and more like scales.

“M’name’s Kid. What’s yers darling?”

11 tiles to go, 40 calls made so far.

[zorosbeau33]

Where they take you on vacation~ MHA/BNHA Headcanon Part 1

❖ BNHA/MHA, Starring Gender Neutral Reader and Shoto Todoroki, Kyoka Jiro, Denki Kaminari, and Eijiro Kirishima~

❖ Headcanon, Series, Fluff, Comedy, Romance

❖ Tw: None

❖ wc: 561

❖ @kimnamshiks @d0uble0hd0nut ❖ Masterlist Part 2~ (coming soon)❖

. ⋅˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ ⋅˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Just a fun little pathway for you to run along while I dream of my vacay later this year~ Who would you like to see next?

. ⋅˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ ⋅˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Denki Kaminari

Bora Bora

This boy knew nothing about it until he heard Yaoyorozu talk about a trip her family had taken there years ago

At first, the idea of you in a swimsuit was what drove him to suggest it, but when you made research and planning his responsibility. He fell into awe of the beauty of the place, the lure of the food and serene waters made him see how soon was too soon to book a trip there

Does a deep dive into things to do in the area for safe, nonscary excursions (no swimming with sharks, but the swimming with pigs looked fun) and overbooks you both slightly at first

Absolutely booked the best house on the water at a resort he could find that also offered couples spa packages so you both could get a little pampered before throwing on your hottest swim attire

Eijiro Kirishima

Hokkaido in winter

Kirishima wants to do something MANLY, but also have quality bonding time together with something you’d also enjoy

So he booked the hotel at the hot springs near the ski resort in Hokkaido, so he could teach you how to snowboard

Does all his research of course because it has been years since he himself was a beginner snowboarder, but would take his sweet time to teach you

The bonus of this trip is the hot spring you both can relax in together and watch it snow after a long day on the trails and end it snuggled inside together 

Would book Switzerland for your next ski adventure

Kyoka Jiro

Los Angeles

Originally had thought Vegas might be cool, then read articles on how much of a tourist trap it is, and didn’t really want to be around so many drunk people during her downtime

She took her time and started from scratch looking at places throughout North America that you both might enjoy with all your hobbies and landed on Los Angeles 

Plans out a week to see all sorts of music venues, and get you both in to see one of your favorite music groups for a concert, this might delay the trip a few months in order to get that time frame perfect but the whole night let alone whole trip was worth the wait

Other days are filled with trying new food, going to Disney, or relaxing at the hotel pool with you

Shoto Todoroki

Paris

When you talked to him about going on a vacation overseas together being romantic he was already pulling his phone out to call for Endeavors private airplane

Upon your panic and discussing how normal people plan trips (thank you Midoriya and Ochako, Tenya tried to help but also needed his rich boy bubble popped a bit) he spends a fortnight planning the most romantic and cliche cheesy Paris trip ever

His sister thankfully bought and packed a bag of everything you’d need because he only said to take the week off and not make plans (The talk helped 50% he’s still working on normal people life)

From the Eiffel Tower overlooking the city as fireworks go off, to a cheese tour, to see the Mona Lisa he does it all and pays for a busboy to bring champagne and flowers every morning so he can wake you up to those gifts of romance he feels you deserve

[blurredcolour]

In My Blood | Part Two

In My Blood Masterlist

Curtis "Curt" Biddick x SOE!Female Reader

It is no longer safe for you to remain in Belgium. With the Gestapo closing in, Curt is finally ready to make his escape with you. But is it too late?

Warnings: MAJOR canon divergence, Language, Violence, Weapons, Spy Craft, Detailed Description of Murder, Death, Injuries, Angst, Grief, Fear, Inevitable Historical and Military Inaccuracies, Mature/Explicit Themes - 18+ ONLY.

Author’s Note: This story contains revisionist history, read at your own risk. Reader is half-Belgian, half-English and has been given an extensive backstory and family tree. While they have been given the codename of "Marie," no physical descriptions or Y/N are used.

Italics used for non-English words and to indicate dialogue spoken in a language other than English.

This is a work of fiction based off the portrayal by the actors in the Apple TV+ series. I hold nothing but respect for the real life individuals referenced within.

Word Count: 6929

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

May 3, 1940

“Honestly Papa,” You protested in French, threading the telephone cord between your fingers as the line crackled and hummed with the standard overseas audio distortions,“I do not understand why you will not let me come home, nothing has happened in months–”

“Enough, my little monster,” Your father’s voice gently but firmly cut you off. “We have been over this a thousand times, it is simply too dangerous for you to leave England with war declared. Yes, it is quiet at the moment, but it is only a matter of time now that the weather has grown warm.”

Your eyes scanned across the neatly appointed Edwardian writing desk in your grandmother’s study before turning to eye the drizzly gardens of the Dower House through the spotless window behind you.

“If it is so dangerous, why do you and Mama insist on staying in Brussels? You are both more important than me and if those Nazi bastards invade you know that’s where they’re headed – straight for you.”

“Come, come now, don’t let your mother hear you using that language.” His chastisement was half-hearted and filled with laughter, pulling a reluctant grin from you. “Belgium is neutral, firstly, but if the worst happens, we will simply flee to the house in Wallonia. Chin-up my little monster, we are made of sterner stuff, are we not?”

“Yes, Papa,” You replied, feeling somewhat reassured and heartened, “we truly are.”

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

October 28, 1943

The collision of your spine against the brick wall drove the air from your lungs, a strangled noise of pain seeping from your throat as the broken end of a bolt that had once affixed something to the side of the building tore through the fabric of your blouse and dug into the meat of your right upper arm. Gritting your teeth as your eyes watered at the searing pain and warm gush down your sleeve, your grip tightened on the handle of your knife, swinging it higher towards the vulnerable neck of the man you had lured into this alleyway.

He had been following you for at least twenty minutes, Gestapo most likely, on your way to pick up some material to then courier to another contact. You had been unsuccessful at losing him, and with the sun setting and curfew nearly upon you, confrontation had remained your only option. While sneaking out after curfew was perilous enough, being caught out around the fall of curfew was nearly suicidal. Parking your bike in front of a well-attended pub, you had made your way across the town square, wending your way through the emptying streets before ducking into this very alley to lay in wait.

Unfortunately for you, the man had proven to be much larger than you had first estimated, and along with a brutal case of halitosis, each sour breath assaulting your senses as it impacted your face, he was easily overpowering you, slowly turning your knife in your grip, threatening to use your own weapon against you. Unfortunately for him, you had been trained in all the ‘ungentlemanly’ ways one could undertake warfare, and he was utterly unprepared for the collision of your foot with his most tender parts.

A sound consisting of an intriguing mixture of a yelp and a wheeze escaped his mouth as he fell back, his oppressive weight finally easing off you. Seizing the momentum, you quickly struck with your blade, meeting the weak block of his forearm and drawing a yowl this time. While he was not proving to be a quiet kill, thankfully his racket resembled an alley cat, and could be explained away if necessary. Heart hammering in your ears, breaths coming in quick gasps under the heady influence of your own adrenaline, you swung the blade home into the defenseless flesh of his neck and tugged forward, sealing your opponent’s fate as he crumpled to the worn cobblestones.

Taking several awkward steps backward, you inhaled deep, greedy gulps of air as the man exhaled his last and grew still. It was both relieving and unsettling. Casting about for the large metal bins you had glimpsed earlier, you darted across the alley to quickly remove the lids from both, shifting the filthy contents from one into the other to make space for your deposit. Returning to his lifeless form, you assessed his bulk before struggling to strip him of his large, navy wool coat before dragging him down the alley and hoisting him into his final resting place. The wound in your triceps screamed in agonized protest with every breath until you had resecured the lid, the scene unremarkable enough in the long shadows of evening.

Shrugging into the bulky coat to conceal the damage to your blouse and retrieving your luggage, discarded moments before the altercation began, you forced yourself to exit the alley at a perfectly normal pace in the direction of Doctor Legot’s clinic, trusty bicycle abandoned for the sake of a speedy departure. Reaching the clinic well after closing, you slid around the back, setting down your suitcase to root around in the hedges for the upturned pot hiding the spare key known to only a select few. You took a moment to compose yourself, taking a deep breath and brusquely wiping at the tears of discomfort that had been stubbornly welling in your eyes the entire journey.

The lock turned soundlessly under your practiced hand, the door swinging inward to an unexpected shaft of light spilling from the patient washroom. Peering around the doorjamb, your eyes widened to see Curt standing at the small sink in the powder room, stripped down to his undershirt, carefully dragging a safety razor across one lathered cheek. Exhaustion and injury got the better of you, making you sway unsteadily, forcing you to catch yourself on the frame of the door, immediately attracting his attention.

“Marie?” He turned to look at you, well-defined muscles of his arms flexing with his movements, shaving cream adorably still adorning a great deal of his face.

Hastily lurching forward into the clinic, you quickly closed and latched the door behind you, depositing your luggage and shoulder bag before shrugging out of the claustrophobic overcoat.

“Jesus Christ, look at you!” His outburst, followed by the sound of his razor hitting the porcelain bowl of the sink, made you drop your gaze to your clothes, only to be greeted by the sight of your late opponent’s blood drenching the fabric.

“Oh, do not fret about me…” You had hoped to put on a display of bravado, but your voice was aggravatingly thin, “…the other fellow is much worse off.”

His startlingly warm palms cupping your elbows made your head jerk back up, meeting his furrowed brow, eyes darkened with concern. “That isn’t very comforting, gorgeous.” He muttered and began tugging you towards Doctor Legot’s office where a crack of light shone from beneath the door. “Doc?” He barked out before open the door without any further preamble.

Only a small noise of protest sounded before the doctor was shooting to his feet, quickly ushering you to take his recently vacated chair, rapidly looking you over before his eyes settled on your arm.

“I’m not going to ask how such misfortune befell you, Marie. I am a wiser man than that. But what, specifically, happened to your arm?” He murmured in Dutch as he retrieved a set of suture scissors to begin cutting away the sleeve of your ruined shirt.

“I backed into the shorn off end of a bolt with rather a bit of force.” You sighed wearily, glancing at Curt who remained in the room, eyeing the pair of you intensely from where he leaned against a filing cabinet. “Why is your guest upstairs?”

Your sentence ended in a hiss as you inhaled sharply through your teeth at the feeling of the doctor’s fingers prodding at the wound on the back of your upper arm.

“He cut himself shaving by candlelight one too many times. Once the cast came off, we made an agreement he could come upstairs between closing and dinner to wash up. You’ve had your tetanus vaccine?”

As Legot began to aggressively paint your wound with disinfectant, you pressed your lips together tightly against any further mortifying outbursts, and thus only managed a nod in confirmation.

“Good.” The room fell silent as he applied a square of gauze to your wound, securing it in place by wrapping your arm in a bandage, tying it off.

Your eyes drifted back to Curt who had not seemed to move an inch, not even changed position, the shaving cream on his face drying out, growing crusty against his skin. His silence was perhaps the most unnerving thing you had encountered this evening, his voice seeming to have filled every waking encounter you’d had with him thus far.

“It’s a lot of blood…” He muttered, eyes rising from your clothes, marred by scarlet quickly turning a mottled brown as the blood dried and aged.

“Mostly someone else’s.” You reminded him gently, earning a non-plussed grunt in reply.

A heavy sigh fell from the Doctor Legot’s lips, making you look up at him slowly. “Marie there has been…an increase in the Gestapo around town. A contact of mine was even questioned about a woman bearing a remarkable resemblance to you. And now that you seem to have had a run in, I’m…concerned.”

Despite similar thoughts ricocheting about your brain the entire flight back to his clinic, the breath you drew in felt like it contained thousands of tiny shards of glass which imbedded themselves deep inside your breast as you heard it from an external source. Rationally, to have survived so many months in your occupation was a feat worth celebrating.

An SOE agent typically had a life expectancy of six months, and yet to watch your ability to remain in Belgium, to remain useful to your fellow Belgians, crumble before you was incredibly painful. You allowed your exhale to accumulate in your cheeks before releasing it all at once through pursed lips with a nod, the feeling of having failed your people, your family, once again a yawning pit deep in your gut.

“It is time for me to move on.” You conceded flatly.

“If you are headed in a certain direction, might you be able to take a certain guest with you?” He asked with a nod in the American’s direction.“Couriers are still stretched thin.”

Your eyes widened slowly as it dawned on you that it was well over two months since Curt had become a guest in his cellar and should be well on his way to Spain by now. “He is well enough to travel then? Have they made him papers yet?” Your rapid-fire questions were greeted by frantic blinking from the doctor before he nodded quickly in the affirmative to both.

Turning back to Curt you tilted your head, reinvigorated by the chance to be useful one last time as you tried to remove yourself from occupied Europe, saving another’s life infinitely more important than simply trying to preserve your own. “Tell me, Curt, are you ready to head back to England?”

The apprehension that had drawn his features tight melted away, yielding to a bright smile, his eyes fairly sparkling with anticipation at the promise of beginning his escape at last. “You have no idea.”

You could do nothing to stop the uplift at the corner of your mouth in response, nodding slightly. “I’m going to change out of these clothes and then we’ll get ready to leave in the morning.”

Straightening from his lean against the cabinet, he moved to the door. “I’ll just go grab…” His voice trailed off as he disappeared down the hall before returning with your suitcase, setting it on the floor with a nod before departing once more, not loitering long enough to accept your gratitude.

Legot produced an old flour sack for you to deposit any clothes beyond saving, to be burned upstairs in his fireplace, before leaving you alone in his office. Feeling the chill of autumn in your damp clothes, you quickly stripped, using a towel to wipe any bloody remnants from your skin with water from the sink in the corner of the room, before changing into fresh clothing. Your mind was already occupied with plotting your route – to Antwerp, fetching supplies from the small flat you kept as a base of operations there, and then boarding a train to the border before crossing on foot then onto another train at Lille to Toulouse before meeting up with the Ponzán group to be guided across the Pyrenees. But this time, you would be one of the party making the crossing in neutral Spain.

Bringing your damp towel to try and blot any blood from the pilfered overcoat, hoping to save it for Curt’s benefit during the mountain crossing to come, you turned off the office lights and headed toward the storeroom, grabbing the garment from the floor on the way. Dropping it through the open trapdoor followed by the wet towel, you smiled to Curt as he appeared below, passing him your suitcase with your good arm before beginning your own descent down the ladder. Pushed well beyond all possible limits, your battered and bandaged arm gave out at your demand to bear your body weight, a yelp escaping as your right hand lost its grip on the ladder as a result.

Strong hands quickly landed on your hips, steadying and supporting you.

“Easy, gorgeous, good as you got the guy, he still hurt you.” Curt muttered behind you, the fresh scent of soap and aftershave radiating from his warm skin as he helped you down the last few rungs.

“Th, thank you, Curt.” You stammered, hugging your throbbing limb close as your feet settled onto the cellar floor, watching him easily climb up the ladder to swing the heavy trapdoor shut almost silently even from inside. “You’ve come a long way in the past few weeks…”

He smirked a little, carrying your luggage over to set on the foot of your bed for you. “Been doing a lot of shadow boxing down here.”

“Boxing!” You breathed in surprise, gathering the abandoned coat from the crumpled heap it left on the floor, trying not to notice the way his muscles moved as he pulled on a thick knit sweater in the cool damp of your hiding space. “If I had known, I would have gotten comics related to your interest…”

“I enjoyed the ones you brought, even read the book too. My teachers would be proud.”

A small laugh escaped you as you settled onto the edge of the bed, inspecting the coat for bloodstains and methodically beginning to blot them out. His own laughed intertwined with yours all too melodically, making you swallow tightly.

“That coat is awful big for you, gorgeous.” He teased, watching you from where he stood at the end of your bed.

“It’s not for me, Curt, it’s for you – you’re going to need it where we’re headed. Just need to get all the blood out first.” You murmured, turning the right sleeve inside out knowing you had surely bled on it yourself.

“Do I get to know where we’re going?”

You peered up at him a moment before shaking your head. “Other than England. That will suffice for now. I will share the goal with you day by day, but the less you know the safer you will be. Aside from a few key portions, the majority of the trip will be by train to start. Tomorrow, though, we shall have to try something new.” You trailed off into a mutter at the last, wrestling with the heavy fabric, shooting him a grateful look as he grabbed the hem of the coat to help you position it, allowing you to reach one of the last stains.

“What’s so special about tomorrow?” He prodded, clearly still listening even though your final statement had more been musing aloud than for his ears.

Pausing a moment you sighed before meeting his eyes. “I suppose you ought to know that I appear to be a known entity to the Gestapo, at the very least locally, and so we will take extra evasive manoeuvres when we leave town. I shall be disguised, we will leave just before dawn, and avoid public transportation. I have a few ideas for how we might reach where we are going first, do not worry.” You offered a reassuring smile, to which he returned a small nod. “Jan will have been by the take your photo and give you papers?”

“Oh, yeah, nice fella if a bit quiet. Gave me a couple sets of papers.” He stepped over to his cot to retrieve two well forged sets of identity papers, bringing them over for you to inspect.

Laying the now-cleaned coat to dry across your suitcase, you accepted them from him, looking them over before holding out those in your left hand. “These are your Belgian papers. I suggest you put these in your usual pocket – the one you will reach for first, so that you can produce them as naturally as possible. We will destroy them as soon as we have left Belgium.” You watched as he took them from you.

“Belgian papers, got it.” Curt made a tiny salute with the papers before grabbing a leather jacket from the back of a small chair that was a new addition to the cellar, sliding them into the inner left breast pocket.

“And these,” you held out those in your right hand, “are your French papers. You will want to keep these close, in a safe place on your person, but not somewhere you will mistakenly hand them over until they are needed.”

His eyebrow shot up playfully. “Hold up, Marie, I thought you just said you weren’t going to tell me where we’re going…”

“Did I?” You blinked innocently and his guffaw of amusement threatened to pull another unintentional smile from you.

Since when had your expressions become so very difficult to control?

“The most important thing for you to remember on our journey,” you soldiered on despite your inner struggle, “is not to speak. Your voice absolutely gives away the fact that you do not belong here. Many of the airmen whom we guide find the most success by feigning deafness. It explains both their inability to speak and the fact that they do not understand the language.”

 “You could just teach me French, or whatever you speak with Doc…”

“Flemish?” You found yourself fighting back laughter. “We do not have enough time for you to master either, Curt. We leave tomorrow. Now take your French papiers and get some sleep, we leave in a few hours.” You nodded firmly, but with a kind smile.

“You too, Marie, you need dinner or anything?”

Shaking your head softly, certain you could not bring yourself to eat even if you felt hungry, the pair of you settled in to sleep, the damp wool coat taking over the chair in the middle of the room to dry, looming in the flickering candlelight like some grim reminder of your actions. Huffing at your melodramatic thoughts, you pulled the blankets over your head and rolled over to get some rest.

As agreed upon, Legot woke the pair of you shortly after four with warm bread, apples, and granola. You could almost taste the ghost of butter, jam, sugar, and cream on your tongue – heavily rationed delights that had been hard to come by in England and all but non-existent here under Nazi rule. Downing your dry, brown breakfast, you opened your suitcase to retrieve a wig from its depths, gathering your hair and securing it beneath the false strands to disguise your apparently known appearance.

“I dunno Marie…” Curt’s musing were interrupted by an exaggerated yawn as he smoothed his hair with a pot of borrowed pomade. “Your natural hair looks so much prettier on you.”

Fighting the girlish urge to preen under his indirect compliment, you shook your head. “It’s a good thing I’m not trying to look pretty then, just different.”

“Well in that case you look nothing like your usual self.” He shrugged into his leather jacket before snagging the hard-won navy coat from the back of the chair and folded it in perhaps the most unmethodical way you had ever witnessed, but it still wound up flat and small enough to fit into his suitcase.

“Good.” You muttered and snapped the latches on your own luggage closed, heading over to the ladder to climb up.

“Wait, let me help you.” He hurried over, reaching out to grasp your waist. “You sure you can pull the cases up?”

Huffing a little, more in annoyance at being injured than his offers of help, you nodded firmly. “Absolutely.” Clenching your jaw, you forced your way up the ladder, stubbornly ignoring the ache in your still-healing arm, turning to reach out expectantly for the first piece of luggage once you were kneeling on the floor above.

A bemused expression greeted you before he easily hoisted the first, waiting until you had it tucked aside before sending the second up. Taking a moment to extinguish the candles still burning below, he then quickly ascended the ladder to join you, silently securing the trapdoor behind him.

“Right, this is it then.”

About to make your way down the hall to bid a final farewell to the doctor, you turned with a soft gasp to find him stand there with a small canvas bag of food.

“For your journey.” He held it out, nodding as Curt quickly stepped forward to sling it over his shoulder.

“Be safe, Doctor Legot, thank you for all your assistance.”

“The very same to you, Marie. Best of luck on your travels.”

A small, sentimental smile poked through your serious expression before your eyes widened. “If you are in need of a bicycle, mine remains outside the pub across from the town square. Farewell.”

At serious risk of lingering too long, you turned then and headed out the backdoor, glancing over your shoulder in the faint light of early morning to ensure Curt was following you. You kept a quick pace, cutting and winding through town towards a familiar farmyard, dairy cows grazing the fields, lowing softly, as the farmer and his daughters loaded containers of milk into the back of a worn truck. The sun had escaped the confines of the horizon by now, flooding the landscape with the golden light of an autumn sunrise as you cast another glance of confirmation over your shoulder, nearly tripping over your own feet at the unjustly stunning quality of Curt’s eyes in daylight.

“Whoa, easy.” He hurried a few steps forward to steady you by the elbow, catching the attention of Tillens who quickly sent his children back into the house.

“Hush.” You whispered firmly before waving to the farmer, who squinted at you a moment before relaxing as you greeted him warmly in Dutch.

“That you, Marie? You’ve done something new with your hair, didn’t even recognize you for a moment…”

“The point, I am afraid. Are you by any chance headed to Antwerp today?” You asked hopefully, stomach falling as he shook his head.

“Could take you to Brussels, but Antwerp is tomorrow.”

Brussels was the one place you avoided, far too many familiar faces and even more Nazis along with their collaborating government.

“How much could I offer to convince you to take us to Antwerp today?”

Tillens’ brown eyes studied your disguise before looking over at your companion. “It’s only one hour out of my way, Marie, for you there is no charge. Hop in the back and I’ll pack the rest of these around you.”

Your eyes widened before you quickly gestured Curt forward, digging into the bag on his shoulder and pulling out the loaf of the bread you found there. “Then please accept this, for your family.”

“Marie…” Tillens protested but you pushed it forward insistently and he accepted it with a grateful nod. “Thank you, every bit helps.”

“Thank you, for it truly does.” Grasping Curt’s elbow, you pointed into the back of the truck, watching him step up and weave his way towards the back.

Setting your suitcase on the tailgate, you reached for the handhold with your left arm, gasping as Curt’s hands were suddenly around your waist to hoist you in amongst the containers of milk.

“Gorgeous but stubborn.” He muttered under his breath, grabbing your suitcase and leading you over to a gap he had found just large enough for the pair of you to settle on the floor.

Pulling your shoulder bag against your body, you tucked your skirt beneath yourself as you sat down beside him, nodding to Tillens as he peered in at the pair of you before sealing you in with the last of his cargo.

“It’s about a two-hour drive, feel free to sleep.” You whispered, the back of the truck going dark as Tillens secured the doors shut, the motor growling to life shortly thereafter.

“So he speaks Flemish too?” Curt asked curiously as the vehicle jolted into motion and you nodded softly.

“It’s Dutch, really, with some regional differences. In the bigger cities you’ll find more of a mix of Flemish and French.”

“And you speak it all.” Curt smirked and you nodded, hugging your knees to your chest as the cargo rattled around you. “Really somethin’…” He muttered, leaning back to close his eyes and try to get some rest as you had suggested.

The drive smoothed out as the truck navigated onto the main road, and you felt yourself relax a little after the first hour of distance was put between you and Beverst. You were by no means out of danger – the Gestapo was an insidious organization, their network a far-reaching and interconnected tangle. The fact that at least one agent had come looking for you specifically meant that, if the entirety did not know of you yet, they soon would. You had to run all the way to be truly safe.

Of their own volition, your eyes drifted towards Curt’s sleeping form, his handsome face grown slack and soft in sleep, the youth of him both striking and painful. What would his life look like if Hitler had been able to keep his hands to himself…or better yet had never even come to power? What would your life look like? Certainly neither of you would be in the back of a dairy truck sneaking your way to Antwerp.

A roughened patch of road jostled his body, threatening to wake him and you quickly wrenched your eyes away, studying the handwritten labels from Tillens’ farm. Thankfully Curt remained asleep for the rest of the drive, the truck pulling to a stop amidst the hum of the city, and you gently prodded him awake with a shake to the shoulder.

“We’re here.” You whispered before pressing a finger to your lips and he nodded drowsily before straightening.

Light flooded into the back of the truck, the pair of you blinking owlishly as Tillens shifted the cargo to make a path of exit into a familiar alley. Climbing out carefully, you turned to unload the suitcases as Curt passed each, nodding sharply to the farmer before you and the airman assembled yourselves, and strolled casually out into the foot traffic on the sidewalk.

The interference and unpredictability of humans had you on edge, not appreciating the way Curt always seemed to be not where you expected him to be with every glance over your shoulder. After the fourth time you looked for him a little too long, your heart in your throat, you stepped around a rather annoying blonde making eyes at him, and seized his free hand with yours. To keep better track of him, of course. The fact that your throat tightened slightly as his blunt fingers wrapped around your hand in return, requiring a forceful swallow to clear it, was utterly irrelevant.

Turning the corner, you looked both ways before tugging on his hand, guiding him across the street to the unassuming building of flats from which you were intending to collect your warmer clothes and some other supplies. The sight of the rather nice car out front was the first sign that something was off. The next was the sound of your neighbour, an ancient, haggard woman named Josephine De Smet, speaking loudly in the stairwell, her creaking voice cascading down the tiled stairs to the lobby, halting your feet immediately.

Clearly distracted, Curt’s body collided with your back, forcing you to brace against the wall lest you topple over.

“Geez, why’d you sto–” His less-than-hushed whisper was cut off by your palm, forcefully freed from his grasp, slapping over his mouth as you quickly pushed him back into the corner of the lobby under the stairs, casting a sharp look at him before craning your ear back upwards.

Holding your breath, you listened intently, trying to hear the rest of the conversation. To confirm if the alarm bells ringing in your head were warranted.

“Just what has that hussy gotten herself mixed up in then, sir?” The old crone rasped in French, not her usual choice of language, and you pressed your lips into a line thin.

“I cannot say, madam, other than she is a monster and you’d best be wary.” The deep male voice, a German accent poisoning his pronunciation, made you inhale sharply through your nose.

Hand dropping from where it pressed against Curt’s remarkably plush and soft lips to grasp the lapel of his jacket, you pulled hard, yanking him out of the building and back onto the street. They were a lot closer on your trail than you had realized. Pulse rabbiting at your throat, you held your suitcase out to Curt in a silent request, grateful when he took it without question, following you as you took off down the sidewalk at a brisk clip.

Darting around the next corner, you led him on a chaotic, unpredictable, and hopefully untraceable path to a tramway stop several blocks away as you dug through your shoulder bag for the coins to make fare for both of you. Once that was secured, you traded his fare for your suitcase, tucking your own coins into the pocket of your light jacket, trying to suppress your grimace at the loss of your winter clothes in that now unvisitable flat. The feeling of Curt’s sturdy hand slipping into yours, enveloping your skin in warmth and his strong grip, halted you for half a step before releasing some of the tension in your lungs.

Propelling forward across the street, the pair of you jumped onto the tram just as it was about to pull away, shuffling into the heart of the crowded carriage to purchase your tickets and keep your faces away from the windows. It was not an overly warm ride to Antwerpen-Centraal station, but you could certainly feel sweat prickling in your armpits and rolling down your back between your shoulder blades. Tugging on Curt’s sleeve, you disembarked one stop short with him and ducked into an alley to yank the wig free, hanging your head upside down to shake out your hair before repining it. It surely looked sad, but given that identity papers were required to board a train, you needed to resemble your photo and thus the wig was shoved into a nearby trash bin.

“We will be asked for papers, there will be a lot of soldiers, try to remain relaxed and do as I do.” You whispered to Curt, and he nodded, patting the left breast of his pocket with an easy smile, though you watched his adam’s apple bob sharply as he swallowed. “We will be buying tickets and travelling to the border where will stop for the night, alright?”

“Lead on, gorgeous.” He nodded and turned to following you toward the grand, stone-clad station built at the turn of the century.

The presence of Nazi soldiers was pronounced, their bright red swatiskas flashing about the otherwise pleasant square like blemishes on a beautiful face. Keeping your expression perfectly neutral yet pleasant, confident yet not cocky, you took a moment to exhale slowly as you made it past the first hurdle into the building before heading to the ticket counter, requesting two tickets to Kortrijk. It was nothing short of a miracle that you managed a polite nod rather than kissing the ticket seller full on the mouth when he informed you the train would be leaving in twenty minutes. Pulling the bills from your bag, you accepted the tickets in return before leading Curt to track three.

Rolling your shoulders in and down your back, you confidently offered your identity papers to the Nazi soldier standing at the carriage door, immensely pleased when Curt did the same without prompting.

“Where are you two headed?” The soldier asked in clipped, stilted French, his piercing blue eyes wholly unsettling as they flicked between you and Curt before coming back to you.

“Kortrijk, sir.” You answered simply.

If he wanted to know more, he would need to ask more. You certainly had a lie prepared should he require one. He made a noise of displeasure, looking over your shoulder, implying the accumulation of other passengers.

“Off you go.” He grunted, returning both sets of papers to you and you nodded rapidly, climbing aboard quickly, even as your arm shook under the strain of hauling your body up the steps.

Shuffling down the hallway of the carriage, you at last came to an empty compartment, stepping inside and setting your luggage on the bench. As soon as Curt stepped in behind you, you slid the door shut behind him, knowing it was rude with a full train but not wanting anyone else to join you. As you turned back, he was already hoisting your suitcase up onto the luggage rack, making you smile fondly.

“Merci.” You murmured, hoping he would understand your meaning.

Judging by his responding smile, it seemed he certainly did. Despite your longing to collapse onto the bench seat, you sat with decorum, trying not to stare at your watch and count down the minutes. As the last whistle blew and the cars at last shunted into motion, you finally relaxed back into the cushion behind you.

“Is it always like that?” Curt whispered and you shot him a rueful look before shaking your head.

“I am deeply sorry, that…that is solely a complication of traveling with me right now.” You murmured in response, digging out his ticket and papers, returning them to him. “The conductor will arrive closer to our destination to check your ticket, then we show the papers again in the station after we detrain.”

You watched as he carefully took the items and tucked them back into his inner pocket.

“No apologies, gorgeous. We’re both not wanted here, so it’s a good thing we’re leaving.” He nodded and you looked out the window when rain pelted the glass as the train left the shelter of the station, biting the inside of your cheek savagely to keep your emotions in check. “Why don’t we have some lunch?”

He started to root around in the bag from Legot and you forced a smile, sharing the few apples and the small wedge of cheese, akin to a rare jewel, that the man had gifted the two of you with. After a minor squabble over who ought to be resting, Curt finally gave up and obstinately remained awake as you insisted that you must, staring out the window as the fields of Flanders rolled by. The train made numerous stops until the conductor arrived to check your tickets, signalling you were about to arrive in Kortrijk, the final stop.

Courtesy of your preparation, the process went remarkably smooth, and the pair of you stepped off the train once Curt had retrieved the suitcases from overhead. Another successful check of your papers and you were melting into the population freshly departing from their workday and making their way home. Within thirty minutes, you had arrived at an unassuming home on the southern edge of town, knocking the door in the prescribed way.

A young woman with a toddler perched on her hip opened the door, eyeing each of you cautiously.

“May I help you?” She asked in Dutch.

“Good afternoon, Ma’am. We were wondering if you might be interested in some new cosmetics?” You smiled broadly, delivering the passphrase.

A flash of recognition crossed her delicate features, her plump cheeks flushing in excitement as she briefly went rigid before she reined in her emotions. “Why don’t you come in and show me what you have for sale…” She stepped back, holding the door open wider for you and Curt to step inside.

Once the door was secured behind you, she led you through her small but tidy home up the narrow stairs to a small half door before opening it slowly.

“Here you are, dinner will take some time.”

“Whatever you can spare is truly appreciated, thank you.” You thanked her softly, sliding your suitcase into the attic before crouching down to crawl in after it.

The space was smaller than Legot’s cellar but larger than the back of Tillens’ dairy truck, enough room for each of you to lay flat, high up in the very peak of the small house. It was not a safe house you would have employed for a larger group. For the first time, you were grateful it was nearly November and not the heat of summer.

“Ouch!” Curt hissed as he cracked his head on a low beam, and you frowned, shifting up onto your knees to make sure he was alright. “Yeah, yeah, m’fine Marie, just an idiot.” He gave you a lopsided grin and you shook your head.

“Sorry it’s not the Ritz, but it’s not a cellar either?” You tilted your head hopefully.

“Never stayed at the Ritz, you?” He asked, settling onto the centuries-old wooden planks beside you.

“Hmmm.” You hummed noncommittally. “She says she’ll have something for us to eat in a bit, we will rest and then start out walking after midnight.”

“Walk…?” He prompted, eyebrow raised.

“It is not easy to cross the border, we cannot simply take the train into France, so we must walk. It is best to do so at night, and even better to do so rested. I promise we can linger a little longer at our next place, but we must get out of Belgium.” Despite your efforts to quash it, a slight tremor remained in your voice and Curt shot you a look of sympathy and utterly threatened your ability to maintain your composure. “So sleep.” You tacked on firmly and pulled off your jacket, folding it up to make a pillow before laying on your side with your back to him.

There was a decidedly awkward silence as he remained seated, looming above you, before laying down with a heavy exhale, clearly frustrated with you. Well that made two of you.

Dinner arrived two hours later with a soft knock, driving home the fact that you had not slept, but the warm vegetable hash was so very welcome and filling, giving you hope that you might be able to actually fall asleep for the last few hours of your stay here. As you lay back down onto your make-shift pillow, Curt’s breaths almost immediately evened out into the heavy sighs of sleep, making your lips twitch in a mixture of annoyance and amusement. Yet as you closed your eyes, all that echoed through your mind was the voice of your father ‘mon petit monstre’ and the Gestapo agent from the stairwell of your flat building ‘elle est un monstre.’

Petit monstre

Un monstre

Monstre

Monstre

Grief clawed at your throat, making you sit up sharply as you gasped for air, eyes brimming with tears as the realization that you would never again hear that nickname in your father’s voice – that it would now only come to you by way of anger and insult – sank like a stone in the pit of your stomach. Sniffling petulantly as your nose began to run, you jumped at the feeling of Curt’s hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong…” He whispered groggily, shifting closer.

Shaking your head quickly, you roughly wiped the tears from your eyes trying to hide the evidence, huffing as the action only caused fresh ones to spill onto your cheeks.

“Don’t tell me then, just c’mere.” He replied and gathered you into his arms, cradling you close against his chest.

Every muscle in your body went rigid at first, your rational, well-trained self knowing this was utterly inappropriate. And yet…

And yet, he was so warm, so kind, and he was holding you so tightly that maybe you could fall apart just a little without crumbling entirely. Surrendering to the fact that no arms had attempted to hold and comfort you in years, you yielded to his embrace, becoming pliant as you loosened the clenched-fist-grip on your grief just a little, allowing tears to slide freely down your cheeks in the darkness of that attic as his palm soothed up and down your spine.

“Shhh, I’m right here, you’re not alone…”

How very much you wanted to believe him.

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

Read Part Three

In My Blood Masterlist

Tag list: @precious-little-scoundrel, @luminouslywriting, @polikabra, @beingalive1

[itsgrimeytime]

Home is Where the Heart is (Part Two) || Farmer!Rick Grimes (TWD) x Teacher!GN!reader AU

Part 1...

rick grimes taglist: @golden-hoax

AVAILABLE ON AO3

Inspiration: Like Real People Do by Hozier.

Summary: Your life was spinning out of control, you knew that. After a string of particularly shattering events, you decided it was time to start anew. With a little help from one of your Grandma's rentals, you found yourself in the small town of Alexandria. The last thing you expected was your neighbor, Rick Grimes.

TWS: starting over, swearing, and identity crisis.

[[A/N: pretty is used gender neutrally here, so if you don't like that I'm sorry!!!Thanks for reading !!! For that anon, ly <3, enjoy :))) ]]

You were staring at your computer screen, the empty word document not quite intimidating you but it was definitely... something. The flickering little line that showed where you were typing was starting to get annoying though.

It was a lesson plan, one of the first ones actually, but one you had put off until further notice. Just something about the circulum hadn't sat right with you that day so you pushed it off. And then you pushed it off again, and again, and again-

Needless to say, you were now about two weeks away from your first-ever semester. Solo semester. You'd been a teacher's aide before, but never... never on your own. Just 'a lack of positions where you lived, and you weren't willing to relocate' problem, really. It was exciting and nervewracking and a lot-

Your life couldn't have been upturned at a worse time, honestly. Especially with so little experience on your own, but you told yourself you'd own it. You'd-

Just as you were getting into the groove of your writing process, your laptop flickered off. And then, you noticed the lights were off too. Your power was out.

"Fuck," you groaned out, half tempted to through your head down onto the table.

It wasn't a surprise, really. You knew that the internet wasn't exactly the best out here, and you'd bet that the electricity would be a little spotty too. But just because it made sense, didn't make it any less shitty.

You roamed outside, hoping to possibly get some cell service -to call the electricity company, or maybe your Grandma? Actually, now that you thought of it, you weren't sure that you knew who did the electricity of the house-

"Funny seein' you 'ere," the deep drawl lured you out of your thoughts -southern beyond belief.

You shifted, shading your eyes from the sun but just enough in his direction to see him. He stood tall, the morning looked good on him, his curls freshly washed and shirt unstained. The breeze of the morning tussled him slightly, and despite the warmth, he didn't look bothered by it. Out on the front porch in a set of pajama pants and coffee held gently in his hands -it looked warm, was Rick Grimes.

"Hey," you responded, dumbfounded -your brain had all but flatlined at the man... again.

He looked at you questioning, the slightest raise of an eyebrow -a sort of small smile brushing across the brim of his mug (almost teasing), "You're up early."

"Too early," you groaned, taking a seat on your porch in a delicately colored rocking chair -your Grandma's doing if you had to guess, "-working on some lesson plans I should've done months ago."

"Lesson plans? You the new teacher?"

You laughed, slightly, nervous, "Word spreads fast around here, then?"

"Always," he grinned, "-you'd be lucky to do anythin' out here without commentary."

You smiled, looking out into your yard -the billowing grass and trees were unfamiliar but peaceful. It was nice to just exist for a moment with someone else, even if you hardly knew them, it was nice. Freeing, even.

"What's the lead theory as to why I'm here?"

"Not sure," Rick paused, tilting his head towards you, attentive, "-why you got a good reason?"

"A super mysterious one," you answered back -playfully, "-what do you think I should go with? Spy overseas, or undercover royalty under witness protection?"

He chuckled, lightly, and something in your chest fluttered -the deep timber swimming into your head. He has a nice laugh, you noted somewhere far away in your head. It was just a thought, you'd let your brain get away with it this once.

"You lookin' for better stories or more intrigue?"

"Intrigue," you answered -doing a dramatic gesture with your hands, almost theatrical, "-no one should truly know me."

"Royalty," he responded -unflinchingly, "-ya look the part too."

You gasped, faux-offended, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're pretty," he answered, fluidly -as if the words out of his mouth were nothing but the truth, "-too pretty to be 'ere. Makes more sense."

"Oh," your mouth clicked shut -blush rising on your cheeks (chanting in your head, probably married, probably married, proba-), "-thank you. Good to know what I could get away with."

"Just the truth," he responded, one hand brushing over his beard as his coffee was set down on the top of the fence -a bit precariously.

You laughed, tilting your head back and rocking further from the motion -the buzz in your stomach was a teeny-tiny little thing. It wasn't anything to worry about, you knew better. You knew better than to walk right back into it again, believe and ignore and love-

It wasn't the time.

"Still," you added -smiley and with an accent you couldn't quite name, "-you'll back me up on my backstory? Death threats from my home kingdom ran away for safety."

He grinned -something big and bright, and it made you falter for a moment, "Sure, I'll tell 'em myself if I 'ave to."

You stilled, ever so slightly -eyes heavily focused on the world in front of you, intent like once you looked away it would disappear. Or maybe you would, back in that apartment, back with...

"Everythin' okay?" Rick interrupted, blue eyes intently on you -he must've noticed.

"What? Yeah-" you cleared your throat, blinking away some of the fog in your eyes -hoping he didn't see, "-Sorry, just got lost in my thoughts. I... I really need to get back to my lesson plans actually."

"Well-"

You interrupted, standing to your feet, "How long does a power outage usual last out here?"

He merely furrowed his eyebrows at you, somewhat understanding that something was bothering you but he didn't push, "Just a few minutes at most, maybe an hour if the weather's bad."

"Okay, good," you sighed in relief, before straightening and turning back to him -schooling your face into something more normal, neutral, "-It was nice talking to you, Rick. I'll... I'll see you around, yeah?"

"Yeah," he nodded, a sort of low grumble that seemed almost slurred in the morning, timber that shook your bones, "-and Y/N?"

"Yes?"

"If you ever... need anythin'," he started -carefully, blue eyes flickering over you with a concern you hadn't felt in a bit, "-I'm just a door down. Anythin'."

"Okay," you responded, quietly, genuinely, "-I'll be sure to take you up on that, Grimes."

[suleikazuleika]

I don't have access to Movie 27, so this theory might already be debunked.

But I'm more convinced then ever that Kaitou Corbeau is a Chikage + Kudo Family Team-Up.

If the whisperings I'm hearing about the reveal are true, then the three of them have an invested interest in seeing Kaito retire as KID.

I mean, it wouldn't be the first time Yusaku and Yukiko pulled some really sketchy shit. Remember the "Conan Edogawa Kidnapping Case" from the early volumes? They straight up kidnapped their son to prove a point.

That said, I don't think that's their primary reason behind Kaitou Corbeau. I think they're searching for Toichi Kuroba. What better way to lure someone out than to wear their face and use their own techniques?

If Toichi's body was never recovered after the accident or went missing, then of course it would raise suspicions from his loved ones.

It would explain their rather frequent trips overseas, especially considering how shit in going down in Japan right now with their children.

But if Toichi is alive, why hasn't he shown himself? I have a few theories:

Option 1) Like Shinichi, he believes that his loved ones will be safer if both they and the assassins who targetted him believe he's dead.

Obviously, this backfired spectacularly with Kaitou Kid's return. I love Konosuke Jii, but I'm starting to believe he royally screwed up Toichi's plan with his desire for revenge.

While he did not want Jii to tell Kaito of his alter ego, Toichi clearly had plans on telling his son himself. He left a voice recording in the secret room, which probably detailed his motivations and a warning not to follow in his footsteps. Unfortunately, that message deteriorated over the 8 years since his death.

It is possible that around this time, Chikage and the Kudo couple were tipped off on a Toichi sighting, thus forcing their focus elsewhere.

Option 2) He was seriously injured in the accident, and now believes his presence poses a danger to his loved ones. This one would be incredibly tragic, but sometimes a traumatic injury can cause a personality change like increased bouts of anger.

Even if these concerns were unfounded, I don't see Toichi as the kind of person who would take that risk with his family. Combined with concerns over the organization, it paints a bleak picture.

Option 3) Toichi is the series' main villain and a bad father. Just as his final message could've been a warning to Kaito against becoming KID, it could also be an invitation to inherit the role.

The adrenaline rush of a successful heist could have proved addicting, and Toichi could have used his assassation attempt to leave his shackles of responsibility behind. He could have graduated to an even more dangerous phantom thief persona.

Remember how there is 8 Night Baron books? One for each year since Toichi's supposedly death? And Yusaku has never revealed his identity, not even to his own son...

While I think this last scenario is the least likely, it would certainly be the most dramatic. It would force Kaito to rethink his whole career.

[black-is-iconic]

The exception

Doma usually thought very little of women, in fact he hardly thought of them at all….because why should he? They were simply a means to an end, a quick meal here or a quick drink there.

A pretty face to look at once and then discard later. But that was before one of his newest little (kiss ass) followers had brought him a gift from overseas, at first he thought it was going to be some exotic animal, a lion perhaps or maybe a gazelle or a little fox with the oversized ears.

But no, laid out before him was a beautiful woman bound and gagged staring up at him with hate so potent it practically seared his flesh. Doma stared back down at you with a mixture of confusion, curiosity, and something more…something much darker, like lust.

Of course he knew what the emotion was but never experienced it in such…greater…depth or intensity. Although he was a bit confused if he lusted to taste the sweetness of your flesh and blood, or was he lusting…for other things, your blood had a potent aroma like ripe fuji left to soak in honey.

His mouth watered as he imagined sinking his fangs into you and tasting your delicious essence…perhaps even licking off the drops from his lips which dribbled onto your skin…

Dark as the midnight sky, [E/C] eyes like burning stars and hair peculiarly kinky in nature but yet silky in nature like spun silk and a voice like a thousand chimes ringing sweetly over a crystal clear lake, singing a song that resonated through his chest…

As you mumbled against your binds Doma noticed that the binds around your wrist were slightly loose exposing the reddened flesh of your wrist to the cold breeze of the temple air, his lips parted to say something to his follower.

But in the literal blink of an eye you'd sprung up from the floor in a blur of azure blue robes and slit the neck of said follower with a small curved blade concealed beneath the sleeve.

With a graceful twirl you turned trajectory and aimed for himself, and had he been a normal man you might've taken his life, bust instead Doma calmly smiled down at you as you plunged the curved blade into his chest soaking in the look of confusion and horror painted across your face as the blade shatter into a thousand pieces and fell to the ground like shimmering shards of ice.

Doma closed his eyes and slowly breathed in the scent of you. It was intoxicating, your eyebrows furrowed deeply and you slowly turn heel and ran.

The golden bangles dancing on your heels making your exit quite audible, he let out a heavy sigh as he contemplated what to o with you. Of course if he wanted to he could've you in seconds, but what would he do once he caught you?

He so badly wanted to taste you, but at the same time. You were an anomaly to him, you were different from those who had come before, different from every person he’d ever fed on before, different than those people he’d watched die in droves in front of him.

You were unlike anything he’s seen before, you were…dare he say it….special?

You reminded him a lot of Hantengu, for starts you both shared dark skin and strange kinky hair….although your skin was much darker than the later an your hair much more wild than his, hmmm Doma didn't want to eat you just yet, as tempting as it may be you are a rare specimen.

An tanzanite amongst trash, no he'd keep you for a little while. He slowly trailed after you, your scent was strong and intoxicating, enticing him to follow.

If he was going to keep you, he'd have to find a way to mask your lovely scent, surely your aroma would attract lesser demons. And while he could easily handle the lesser demons who could be threatened, intimidated or just plain eaten…it would be a problem if you lured in a higher ranking demons who'd be less likely swayed by his tatics.

Anyway he thought to himself stopping a follower who was getting ready to chase you into the dark of night, "let her go" he said cooly staring into the thick rolling gray clouds.

"A nasty storm is rolling in if she's smart she'll com back…when she does prepare a meal for her and room to rest in, as well as some fresh robes" his followers quickly nodded and scrambled to preform their meaningless task.

And Doma continued outside taking in the icy nip of the cold night air and listening to the distant rumble of thunder, he sighed, the wind had jostled your scent a bit, but not enough to loose you he could never loose you.

You were his new toy, and he planned on playing with you for quite awhile until he could tire you of this world entirely and drag you into paradise but for now he'd just…..wait

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Apple's business model made Chinese oppression inevitable

A month ago, a wave of rare political protests swept China, centered on Beijing, where Premier Xi Jinping was consolidating his already-substantial power by claiming an unprecedented third term:

https://www.cnn.com/2022/10/22/china/china-party-congress-overseas-students-protest-intl-hnk

Protest organizers in China struggle with the serious legal and extrajudicial penalties for anti-government activities, backed by a sophisticated digital surveillance grid that monitors and blocks online communications that might challenge government authority.

Though this digital surveillance network is now primarily supplied and serviced by Chinese tech companies, it can't be separated from western tech companies. The first version of the Chinese digital surveillance grid was built by Cisco:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2016/04/ciscos-latest-attempt-dodge-responsibility-facilitating-human-rights-abuses-export

Tech companies like Yahoo went into China knowing that they'd have to censor the internet, and ultimately turned over their users' data to Chinese authorities, who subsequently arrested and tortured some of those users:

https://www.technewsworld.com/story/yahoo-charged-with-complicity-in-chinese-torture-case-57011.html

Google pulled out of China in 2010, after the Chinese government hacked and arrested Gmail users. But eight years later, Google was secretly working on Project Dragonfly, a censoring, surveilling search product designed for the Chinese market:

https://www.technologyreview.com/2018/12/19/138307/how-google-took-on-china-and-lost/

Apple plays a key ongoing role in Chinese state surveillance and oppression. Like most tech giants, Apple depends on access to low-waged Chinese factory workers with weak labor protections to hold down the wage bill for its manufacturing.

Apple also relies on selling phones and computers and services to the titanic Chinese middle class, a category that's loose enough that estimates of its size range from 350m to 700m - but even the lower figure is larger than the entire US population.

Apple's dual reliance on poor Chinese workers and rich Chinese consumers gives the Chinese state enormous leverage over the company. The Chinese government can order Apple to participate in its digital surveillance and dissent-suppression efforts and threaten the company with the loss of revenues and manufacturing if it balks.

But that's true of any western company that seeks to hold down costs and generate revenues through Chinese manufacturing and Chinese sales. What makes Apple uniquely vulnerable to Chinese state pressure is its business-model choices - choices that, ironically, are touted as a way to keep its users safe.

Apple's Ios platform is "curated." Ipads and Iphones ship locked to Apple's App Stores. Users aren't supposed to be able to install software unless it is delivered via the App Store. Apple describes this as a safety measure, a bulwark against the tricks that hackers and identity thieves use to lure users into installing malicious software.

But Apple also makes billions of dollars through this arrangement. The App Store is a chokepoint, and any software author who wants to sell an app to an Iphone owner can only do so if Apple approves of the transaction.

https://chokepointcapitalism.com/

Apple can arbitrarily withhold this permission, if, say, it has a competing product and doesn't want to have to win out over a new market entrant in a fair fight.

Apple can also burden its competitors: if you want to sell media that competes with Apple Books, Apple Music or Apple Video, the company will charge you 15-30% on each sale, while its own offerings escape this charge.

That means that media stores that competes with Apple's own retail storefronts have to either charge more than Apple, or make less money, or not sell media via an app at all - instead, they have to implement a clunky two-step whereby customers buy their media on the web and they flip back to an app to download it.

Even when an app maker doesn't compete with Apple, Apple can turn it to its advantage: the company simply appropriates 15-30% of ever dollar that changes hands when Iphone owners buy software and media from app makers.

This is "feudal security." In a lawless realm of roving bandits, Apple offers us a high-walled fortress bristling with fierce infosec mercenaries who promise to defend us from the threats outside the walls. In return, Apple uses its control over the gateway to the outside world to extract a tax from everyone who brings us the things we need.

Apple has every incentive to make this fortress as impregnable as possible. From the lowest levels of its chip designs to its lobbying blitzes to criminalize jailbreaking devices, the company is fully committed to ensuring that Ios device owners can't make choices Apple disapproves of.

This is the source of China's extraordinary leverage over Apple. Apple can't afford to leave China, because that would mean losing manufacturing and customers. Because of this, the Chinese state can order Apple to take any measure that Apple is technically capable of delivering.

Because of its business-model choices, Apple has the technical capability to introduce defects in the apps on its customers' devices. It can order every software vendor in the App Store to break their privacy tools so that the Chinese government can spy on those customers.

If companies don't comply, Apple can simply block them from delivering software to Chinese users altogether. An absolutely foreseeable consequence of this product design is that the Chinese state will order Apple to neuter all the privacy tools available to Chinese Ios users, which is exactly what happened:

https://www.reuters.com/article/us-china-apple-vpn/apple-says-it-is-removing-vpn-services-from-china-app-store-idUSKBN1AE0BQ

Apple offers cloud storage to its Ios users. Because Apple can't afford to anger the Chinese state, the Chinese state can order Apple to introduce defects into the encryption on its cloud servers so that Apple customers can be spied on by the Chinese government. That's also exactly what happened:

https://www.nytimes.com/2021/05/17/technology/apple-china-censorship-data.html

Apple's business-model decisions reduce the consequences for betraying its customers. If defects in Apple's cloud product come to light, it can simply order all the other cloud services in the App Store to introduce similar defects, on pain of being kicked out of the store.

Last month's Chinese protests were coordinated in part thanks to a novel technological tactic, one that made use of one of Apple's most innovative technologies: Airdrop. Airdrop is an ad hoc, peer-to-peer file transfer protocol that lets two nearby Ios users exchange files with one another without identifying themselves.

Anti-Xi organizers used Airdrop to exchange forbidden protest literature. Because these files travel directly between Ios devices, they weren't visible to the censors and spies who monitor other digital communications tools in China.

This use of Airdrop is a canonical example of the ways that digital technologies can be part of human rights struggles, giving people new tools that give them leverage over powerful state actors.

Right on schedule, the Chinese government has ordered Apple to break Airdrop so that it can't be used to organize protests, requiring users to opt into receiving files from strangers every ten minutes, rather than letting them set their devices to publicly visible until they are ready to turn it off:

https://www.theguardian.com/world/2022/nov/11/apple-limits-iphone-filesharing-feature-used-by-protesters-in-china

Apple called this a "security update." It updates the security of the Chinese state from democratic accountability.

There's a strain of technology criticism that sees incidents like this as proof that digital tools have no place in human rights struggles, because they will always be turned against their users.

But no one forced Apple to launch its "curated computing" service, nor to design it so that its customers can't override it. Apple built a walled fortress in full knowledge that it might be called upon someday to turn that fortress into a prison.

The feigned outrage of tech companies when the weakenesses in their business-models are exploited by third parties is an obvious and shabby trick to deflect blame. Apple put the gun on the mantelpiece in Act I. It can't expect us to forgive it when Xi Jinping fires the gun in Act III.

Of course, this sin isn't unique to Apple. Google has designed a location-harvesting system that is impossible to opt out of, so that it can accumulate and sell access to a database of every movement of every person.

https://pluralistic.net/2021/06/01/you-are-here/#goog

Having assembled this database, Google doesn't get to act surprised when cops show up with "geofenced reverse warrants" that demand the identity of every participant in a Black Lives Matter protest (or the January 6 riot):

https://www.theverge.com/2022/2/5/22918487/fbi-geofence-seattle-blm-protest-police-guild-attack

Or take the scandal of Adobe customers' files being wrecked by the company's dispute with proprietary color system vendor Pantone. Pantone cancelled Adobe's license to use its technology and wants Adobe customers to spend $21/month to keep Pantone colors.

https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/28/fade-to-black/#trust-the-process

But this doesn't just affect files created after the Adobe/Pantone split. Due to Adobe's subscription-based business model, which requires customers to pay monthly for software as a service (SaaS), Pantone can demand that Adobe break all the existing files its customers have created.

If you created a Photoshop file with some Pantone colors 20 years ago, they are broken now, and forever, unless you start paying Pantone $21/month, because Adobe has altered its cloud software so that all Pantone-colored pixels are rendered in black.

I've been corresponding with an Adobe PR flack doing damage control after the Pantone scandal broke, and as far as I can tell, she wants me to "correct" my article to blame Pantone for this mess, because it has Adobe over a barrel.

But Adobe built that barrel. This hostage situation was a completely forseeable consequence of redesigning its products to treat its users like hostages. Pantone are greedy scum, but so are Adobe - and it was Adobe's greed that exposed its customers to Pantone's greed.

The point isn't that having your Photoshop files corrupted is the same as being kidnapped and tortured by Chinese police. But both Adobe and Apple - and every other tech giant - has decided that the rise of networked computing is an opportunity to exercise ongoing control over their customers. All of these companies knew that this ongoing control could be hijacked by hostile governments or corporations at any time, and they did it anyway.

They have no business acting surprised now. Apple isn't responsible for Chinese state oppression, but it is knowingly, explicitly complicit in it.

[Image ID: A Chinese revolutionary poster depicting a marching army of peasant soldiers. It has been altered so that a man at the front of the column is carrying an Ipad. The image is surmounted by Apple's 'Think Different' wordmark.]

[mcheang]

Revelation AU

What if Felix took Adrien’s place again the day Lila tried to take over class rep duties.

Let’s just say thanks to his stalking, Felix knows Lila is a liar who makes Adrien uncomfortable and Marinette unhappy. He warns Kagami about it, who in turn wishes to expose Lila after being manipulated by her.

Knowing Lila has had too much time to sway the school to her side, Felix proposes an idea but needs Kagami’s help. Like Lila, Felix is a master at deception, at least when pretending to be Adrien.

When Gabriel fires Lila Rossi, Felix suspected Lila would want revenge on Adrien to hurt Gabriel. As such, he insisted that he take Adrien’s place for that day in school. Kagami lured Adrien and knocked him unconscious, allowing Felix to take his place while Kagami stayed with Adrien to keep him from interrupting their plan.

When Marinette tried to argue that Chloe should be punished for cheating, and how Caline suggested that Chloe was going to need a lot of work, Lila suggested she take over Marinette’s duties since Marinette is too busy with her love life.

Felix: I’m sorry, Lila. It’s just what you said. The reason you were not around to vote for Marinette is because you were on one of your MANY trips for charity. I know you’ve had more time for us now, except last I heard, you said you were going overseas. I know you’ll try to be there for us, but we all know how you can’t help answering the call for help from your many other friends overseas, even changing your plans at the last minute because you told us how much you cherish bonds overseas, knowing you can’t dismiss friendship that easily.

And just like that, Lila is also unreliable for being class president.

Lila: I will try to be there for the rest of the school year, even my mother put her foot down about that.

Felix quickly interrupts: Oh no! Are you that exhausted? We shouldn’t put more pressure on her.

Lila: But I have more free time on my hands.

Felix: Um, I heard you refuse to join Mylene’s cause to help Ramier’s cause to build pigeon shelters next week. And Marinette is not even going to be there! Not to mention I’m worried that Chloe might take advantage of you like she’s taking advantage of Sabrina, she’s already trying to take back power, but we all know that Chloe will dump her deputy duties on Sabrina, again. You’re too nice, Lila.

No matter what Lila says, Felix is ready to counter her.

And then comes the killing blow

Felix: I know you mean well, but my father also told about your special disease

He looked at Miss Caline Bustier, who now recalls Lila’s lying disorder

Felix: It’s embarrassing but my father does do background checking, Principal Damocles told him about your uncontrollable lying disease. I know Miss Bustier wanted to keep this a secret so we would not worry over you like we do over Rose, but we’re your friends Lila, you don’t have to hide this from us.

Alya is unsure if Adrien is telling the truth or he really wants to defend Marinette

Caline: I think you’re right Adrien. Lila needs all the support she can get, and she can only get that if we help her be honest

She just confirmed what “Adrien“ said.

The class is stunned. Lila really was a liar. And Ms Bustier did not even tell them. It was hard to tell whether their feelings of betrayal were directed more towards their naive teacher or Lila.

Lila herself was feeling quite furious with Adrien.

Naturally Hawkmoth was attracted to the akuma class…again.

He sensed Lila Rossi’s hatred to Adrien. Not a good idea. (Sure Lila tried to direct some hatred Marinette’s way but the latter was clearly surprised by Adrien’s move). Nathalie was already breathing down his neck on his treatment of Adrien.

Someone else in the class will have to do.

There was obviously a divide.

Some actually thought Lila had a lying disorder and could not control it.

Others like Alya Cesaire were immediately apologetic for not believing Marinette, cursing their own gullibility, and angry at Ms Bustier for keeping it from them.

Yes, Alya’s guilt was prime for akumatization.

Except…what is this? Her resistance to the akuma…it was so similar to…Viperion/Luka. Alya knows Ladybug’s secret identity.

True, Alya rejected the akuma and Hawkmoth summoned it back, but the idea that two friends of his son knew Ladybug suggested the possibility that the heroine herself was within Adrien’s social circle.

But who? He had akumatized most of them. All except…Marientte Dupain-Cheng!

Oh wait. If Alya is aware that Marinette is Ladybug, how could she actually believe that Ladybug is best friends with Lila?

No one is that stupid.

He discusses this with Nathalie.

Nathalie: but Alya is that gullible. Didn’t she believe Chloe of all people was Ladybug? Despite witnessing Ladybug saving Chloe from Stoneheart?

A pause.

Gabriel: it’s time we invited Marinette to our home again. It will be a chance for Adrien to tell her about his trip to London. (Aka akumatize and see if she really is Ladybug)

Meanwhile, Alya confessed Monarch discovered she knows Ladybug and has to leave town. She joins Luka with his dad and Penny.

Marinette feels guilty for telling Alya the truth. Tikki reminds her that Alya knowing has helped her before.

Before Alya left with Luka, the latter warned Marinette to be careful with her secret identity. “Monarch might decide to investigate our common friends. And you’re the one of the few he hasn’t akumatized.”

Marinette: few…Adrien! Wait, what am I saying, Adrien can’t be confused for Ladybug.

At the invitation for brunch, Gabriel knew Marinette was still oblivious to Adrien’s impending departure (he would have akumatized her otherwise).

Gabriel: I wouldn’t want to keep two lovebirds apart in these precious moments Adrien has in Paris.

Adrien dropped his fork. “Father!”

Marinette looked at her boyfriend in concern. “Adrien, what’s wrong?”

Gabriel: you didn’t tell her?

Adrien shut his eyes. “I’m moving to London at the end of the school year.”

Gabriel: as soon as the school day is over, he’ll be packing his bags.

Adrien: but I’ll miss the dance!

Gabriel: so is Kagami but I don’t hear her complaining to her mother.

Marinette understood immediately. Gabriel disapproved of her so much, he was willing to send Adrien away, take him away from his friends. “You can’t do that! It’s not right!”

“Oh, and what would you know of right, Ms Dupain Cheng. My own surveillance cameras have caught you spying on my house. Your male friends threw a wild party under my very roof while I was absent, draining even my back up power reserves. I’ve already shown my generosity by not suing them for the power disruption or demanding a restraining order on your presence. Do not test my patience.”

Marinette and Adrien were horrified, for different reasons. Adrien knew about Marinette’s stalker habits already but to hear that his father was capable of using the law to punish his friends…he knew he needed to tread carefully. Marinette was horrified to see her own flaws turned against her.

Gabriel settled down, forcing a smile on his face as he civilly asked, “And what do you think of my pancakes now, Marinette. Do you think my new recipe is better than before?”

Both knew they could not insult him and make their own situation worse, not when Gabriel has already proven himself of capable of following up his own threats.

“It’s certainly efficient,” Marinette finally managed.

They finished the breakfast in silence. Gabriel happily eating his pancakes. Marinette and Adrien holding hands tightly under the table.

Nathalie came in. “Adrien, your piano teacher is here.”

Gabriel: it’s been nice having you here again, Marinette. But good times never last long.

It took all Marinette’s willpower not to run or call Gabriel out for his cruelty. As soon as the coast was clear, she sank down against the wall and cried.

Her despair just begging Monarch to akumatize her.

Unfortunately for him, Tikki was also on alert should Marinette be depressed enough for an akuma. (Being in an akumatized purse was not fun!)

Tikki: Marinette, an akuma!

Marinette freaked and ran, worried that Ladybug’s immediate purification would give her identity away.

Rather than let the butterfly go rogue and cause another startrain, Monarch summoned the butterfly back. He can be patient. Sooner or later, Marinette has to break down and he will be ready.

Knowing she had to stay positive, Marinette devotes her energy to try to be optimistic, thinking of how she can get Gabriel to change his mind, or ways to make a long distance relationship work.

This was enough to make Gabriel give up and instead wait for Adrien to leave for London.

By that time, Marinette had already tried several plans to convince Gabriel to stay. She got Wayhem to organize Adrien’s fans to strike about Adrien’s departure but was countered by Gabriel saying Paris was too dangerous for Adrien. She threaten to call child care services except Adrien (influenced by the Graham wedding rings) vetoes this plan. She considered using Cosmobug to visit Adrien except Marinette doesn’t have the money or time to make such frequent visits plausible.

Eventually Marinette came to accept Adrien’s departure and both agree to work out a long distance relationship.

Gabriel is extremely disappointed that Marinette isn’t more unhappy when Adrien leaves. Oh well, it doesn’t matter. project Alliance will continue as plan.

[guysinbondagejeopardy]

In our Bondage Jeopardy movie "Bagged", a bounty hunter lures and captures a European operative to ship him overseas. Part 1 is streaming now at Guys in Bondage Jeopardy.

[songsofadelaide]

Paraselene

On one side of the coin of fate, Okkotsu Yuuta stopped wanting things ever since he lost one most precious to him, even though it was due to circumstances beyond his control. He decided against wanting anything ever again. 

And on the other side… As a beloved daughter of an age-old sorcerer clan, you often got everything you wanted. That is why you were allowed to grace the stage of many of Tokyo's extravagant places of gathering as one of this generation's most popular idols. And upon meeting Yuuta for the first time, you resolved that this man would be no exception— that you would get him, too— no matter how hard he tried to evade you and your most curious gaze. 

Though admittedly, he didn't try very hard. 

Still reeling from an overseas mission, Special Grade Sorcerer and for-hire bodyguard Okkotsu Yuuta gets roped into a one-night stand with a retiring idol trying to evade an unwanted engagement arranged by her family— and the choice that changes the trajectory of both your lives. 

[An Okkotsu Yuuta x Reader AU one-shot]

cw/tw: female reader, reader is an idol, sorcerer x idol romance au where things are all well (but not really), original characters, no use of yn and instead follows my usual naming convention (I use Otome as a placeholder for yn since it means maiden, which pretty much means yn too), song fic, inaccurate depictions of idol life, fluff, slice of life, some fun until it's not, it's kind of slow burn but maybe not really, mentions of heartbroken gay men because of the stigma, Nana and Soul Eater references, the Zenins are assholes here, too, mentions of the death of a loved one, arranged marriages and family traditions and breaking said family traditions, and a lovely, happy ending (for those who want to know beforehand)— ✦ oc guide here wc: 22.5k

"Twilight—and you, Quiet—the stars; Snare of the shine of your teeth, Your provocative laughter, The gloom of your hair; Lure of you, eye and lip; Yearning, yearning, Languor, surrender;" — El Beso, Angelina Weld Grimke

— The boy in the shadows and the girl with stars in her eyes. 

"Whenever I look at you, your shadow seems to cast a smile— hiding your teardrops from me secretly, like you always do—" 

Simply put, Yuuta was tired. 

It hasn't been a full 24 hours since he returned from the peacekeeping mission in Monaco that was previously assigned to him by his superior, but here he was with said superior, standing among the audience of a full Yokohama Arena. The lights, music, costumes and stage design were all so artfully made, its calibre unlike anything he had ever seen before— and it was all for the graduation of the centre of sensational idol group Rose Gold. 

"See her? The one in the sparkling red dress."

The boy with dark eyes followed his teacher's steady and slender finger as he pointed at the bright stage just mere steps away from where they were standing in the audience. 

There were five girls in total, but his eyes were drawn to the very same one the older man was pointing at.

"The centre?" He responded, squinting at the brightness of the stage to help his vision adjust and focus on the figure happily waving in the middle, all spotlights on her as she moved her glossy lips to sing to the audience. 

"Hope always may be found in the water's evidence— The loneliness of silence, oh, yes, I know that well, too—"

Pretty, he thought to himself as he was allowed a moment to rest his eyes on you.

"And do you see that thing over there?" His teacher then pointed overhead, just above the steel truss holding all the colourful lights illuminating the stage. Yuuta saw the shadow of a cursed spirit hovering above the centre of the performance, the girl in the sequined dress seemingly sparkling on stage and unaware of the danger that loomed over her. 

But dense, he shook his head. "All right. I know what to do." 

"Then the future starts to move, racing on— Open up the door! It's what you're searching for…"

"E—motion!" The enthusiastic crowd sang along, followed by the flickering of thousands of multicoloured light sticks illuminating the arena even further, like twinkling stars reflected in the inky ocean waves. 

"Suddenly, I know this sky— It's the one that's in my dreams! So anxiously, my heart resounds, passionate and warm!"

Yuuta quietly got up from his seat and shuffled out of the audience, seemingly disappearing backstage with his blade concealed under his jacket. He walked unnoticed, melting into the background as the melodious song filled the still air.

"Secretly, I long to repeat these dreams I had of you… So quietly, just close your eyes and hold me in your arms!" 

The blood rushing through your ears and the heavy pounding of your heart flooded your senses as the final bow call started, wet palms taking wet palms as your group granted your most grateful audience a graceful bow in unison. You could only look up in anticipation as the spotlights drew to a close, the dark energy you had been keeping an eye on for days just gone. 

And how odd it was that it just vanished after it metastasised into something you knew you couldn't do anything about if it went berserk all of a sudden. 

As your fellow idols shuffled off the stage to prepare for the after-concert handshake event, you stood there pondering the events of this show and the disappearance of the cursed spirit that had been plaguing you for weeks, the ache in your feet from the high heels you wore going unnoticed until your manager called your attention. 

Kagomura Sana was one of the few adults you trusted at your talent agency. Rose Gold was composed of five girls— each one with their own manager who reported to the group's main handler, whom you only know as Kyou-san. You didn't care much for the other managers or for Kyou-san, but Sana was someone special to you— she knew you and your peculiar circumstances, and why you were graduating at the height of your group's success.

"Otome! It's Gojo-san! He's here to see you!" 

Snapping out of your reverie, you were approached by two figures, the more familiar one flashing his million-dollar smile at you, bright blue eyes concealed under a pair of darkened sunglasses. In his hands was a bouquet of soft pink roses that added an even softer splash of colour to the exquisitely made crimson dress you were wearing. 

"Yo, ojou-chan!"  

"Satoru nii-san!" You beamed at him like you were still onstage, your arms open to receive the blooms bundled in white and pink crepe paper. "Thank you for coming, even though I know Kazu nii-san asked for your help with that, um, thing…" 

"Oh, that?" Gojo Satoru raised a thoughtful hand to his chin. "Your brother mentioned it, but we didn't expect it to grow that huge. Either someone's super mad or super obsessed with you."

"Or both," you groaned, cradling the flowers close to your chest. "But still, I must thank you for handling that thing in a… clean way. Anything other than that would have spooked everyone onstage and would have caused a scene…" 

"You should be thanking him," the older man jerked his thumb at the younger man standing behind him. "This is his mission, after all."

"I see," you replied with a nod, curiously peering over Satoru's right arm. "Then I must thank you for exorcising that curse, jujutsu-shi."

The younger sorcerer was slightly startled by your approach, even more so when you extended your finely manicured hand for a handshake, your wrist bejewelled with frilly bracelets adorned with fine plastic crystals. 

"It's no problem," said Yuuta. His smile was that of someone not entirely sure what he should do, but he gently took your hand in his and gave it a short shake. 

It was your turn to be surprised when you realised it wasn't another old man with Satoru, but a young sorcerer around your age instead. "O-Oh! I-I didn't know you were just a boy! I thought Satoru nii-san brought another old man like him again."

"Hey! I'm not that old!"

Yuuta saw the abundance of stars in your eyes as you nervously smiled and rambled at him, not at all minding how you grasped him with a sweaty hand. His teacher's rant faded into the air as he mustered a small smile. There was an assortment of equally sparkling jewellery and adornments on your pulled-up hair and right now he was unconsciously thinking you were just as pretty up close as you were on stage earlier. 

"Now that the two of you have been introduced, we should get down to business," Satoru started. "Yuuta's been tasked with searching for the one responsible for all these curses, ojou-chan. I know you have your ever-faithful guardian Yohan-san with you, but Yuuta will stick around to look after you as well."

"I suppose nii-san petitioned this to the magic school," you said with a sigh, only to brighten up with a smile as you clutched the younger man's hand even closer. "Yuuta-san, isn't it? You must allow me to treat you as thanks."

"No worries, ojou-san," he replied, echoing how his superior addressed you before softly gesturing to your sparkling outfit. "But won't you have a hard time moving around?"

His assumption elicited an even softer laugh from you. You graciously gave him your name before finally replying. "I won't go out like this, of course. I must apologise in advance, though, as I still have my final handshake event to get to. It may take some time…"

"Please don't worry about it," the young man reassured you. "It's my duty to keep you safe while you're still on the clock, so…"

—

You never really believed in the saying less is more, especially when it came to style and costumes. The popular idol group Rose Gold is known for its breathtaking and extravagant imagery that drew audiences of all ages from inside and outside the city. Apart from the idols' superb skills, their costumes by the head costume designer Irino Izuna, are often praised for their fine craftsmanship and her specific attention to detail. 

As a former idol herself, she found it a pleasure to dress those with star potential. Rose Gold was named after a precious metal, after all. For Izuna, more is better, and it became the group's principle.

This would be Izuna's final year as the group's head costume designer since she will be getting married soon, making your graduation outfit her penultimate masterpiece. The older woman had long been enamoured by you ever since you first auditioned to become a member many years ago and has since dressed you for every concert, every music video, and every guesting and show you starred in. 

"This one I made especially for you. It would hurt me to see another wearing it, so the group resolved to hand it over to you, Otome-san, if you'll accept, of course." 

"Is that heavy? Let me help you carry it."

Even in your simple civilian clothing, with the glamorous costume and accessories discarded, you still exuded the same kind of vibrance and elegance that made Yuuta rather nervous. 

"Thank you very much, Yuuta-san," you replied, allowing his larger hand to take your suitcase filled with costumes from your fingers. He paused in his tracks when he came in contact with the luggage. "Is something wrong?" 

"There's a curse in this luggage, Otome-san."

"O-Oh! How could I have not noticed?" Your brows furrowed in confusion. Yuuta pulled away from you as you reached for the suitcase once more. "Yuuta-san?"

"You must be exhausted," he remarked. "Can you not sense them?"

"I can, but faintly. Believe it or not, my family is pretty well-known in jujutsu society. I'm… not just some idol, I suppose," you nodded at him. "I believe my brother has made arrangements for you to stay with us for the duration of your mission."

He nodded at you this time, a smile still forming on his otherwise tired face. "I have a week to solve your predicament, but the investigation will be made quicker if you tell me everything you know, like people you suspect."

"Of course. Anything to help you, Yuuta-san," you eagerly nodded once more. The two of you were approached by an older man in a dark-coloured haori, his salt and pepper hair cut short and neat. Though his eyes were concealed under a pair of aviator sunglasses, there was no mistaking the sharpness of his sight. "This is Sakashita Yohan-san. Satoru nii-san mentioned him earlier. He is one of the Koganei Clan's finest sorcerers and has been my guardian since birth. He takes orders directly from my father and my brother, too, since he will be inheriting leadership soon." 

The two sorcerers acknowledged each other with similar bows, the older one taking the cursed suitcase from the younger one. 

"They are harmless at best, something you can easily sweep under the rug if you wish," stated Yohan. You gestured for Yuuta to follow the older man as he led you out of the arena. "Ojou-san, this way, please."

The car ride home was pleasant, but the two men couldn't help but keep their senses on high alert even after the exorcism of the seemingly harmless cursed spirit that chased you wherever you went. 

"Yo-chan, you think we can stop by a convenience store? I want some Yakult…"

"I'll call the estate ahead and let them know that you want some, ojou-san."

The older man could have sworn he heard a small grumble of protest from where you sat in the vehicle.

The Koganei Clan made their home alongside the golden ginkgo trees that lined part of the Meiji-Jingu Gaien, part of the estate shrouded with a curtain due to the perennial nature of the golden tree within the gated property. With a keen eye, any sorcerer would be able to knock on the gates that were hidden from the normal human being.

Yuuta knew that the older sorcerer families had treasures to their names— even yours, whose origins were considered lowly compared to the Great Three Sorcerer Clans. You were welcomed home by a line of female servants in mustard-coloured yukata, the one closest to your age at the very front with a warm smile on her face. 

"Welcome home, ojou-sama!"

You nearly forgot your manners as you happily embraced the other girl. "Marin-chan! Oh, how long has it been?" 

"Eight months to this day, ojou-sama. We're all so happy to see you back home," Marin replied as she returned her liege's embrace. 

Sakashita Marin was Yohan's niece whom he raised as his daughter. Given his close ties to the masters of the house, Marin was given her own task of being your attendant. You did not agree with her at first due to her straitlaced personality, but you soon became fast friends after bonding over the first generation of Rose Gold. 

"Ah, yes. We have a guest, as I'm sure you're all aware of," you said with a smile as you gestured towards the rather tired-looking young man standing right next to you. "This is Okkotsu Yuuta-san. He is a pupil of Satoru nii-san and has been tasked with guarding me?"

"Uh, yes. I will serve as another bodyguard for Otome-san. I-I'll be in your care, then." 

"It's an honour to have another esteemed sorcerer in our home," Marin bowed before him. "Please make yourself comfortable. We will handle your belongings." 

"I'll prepare some tea for you, Yuuta-san," you told him. "If it's not much of a bother, could you perhaps tell me more about the magic school? It's always been my dream to study there, but my family blocked my application to the school because they say it's too dangerous for someone like me to even consider…" 

"Oh, uh, I wouldn't want to impose…" Came his reply as he quickly followed you into your spacious home. "For starters, I was a pretty problematic kid. I have Gojo-sensei to thank for pulling the strings…"

For someone who held a three-hour-long farewell concert earlier today, you still had the boundless energy of someone who just woke up from a long rest. The servants in the kitchen were surprised by your arrival and even insisted on preparing the tea you promised your guest, urging you to rest for the night. 

"I suppose we both have something to be thankful for that weird old man," you said with a laugh as you were both shooed away from the kitchen and led to one of the guest rooms prepared for the young sorcerer. "If you don't mind me asking, what rank are you?"

A single futon was laid out on the tatami, along with most of Yuuta's belongings for the week. His sheathed blade rested against the paper-thin walls while you took your seat on the floor, a tranquil image now unknowingly burned into his mind. He sat across from you and lowered his eyes briefly before fishing out his sorcerer licence from the left breast pocket of his grey jacket. You graciously accepted it with both hands and were visibly surprised by the fact presented to you.

"You're a Special Grade sorcerer! Incredible! I see I've made quite a talented friend." 

He smiled rather sheepishly, a hand on his nape as he attempted to refute your point. "Not really… It's not all good, after all. Having this kind of power."

It was only when he lowered his gaze that you saw the exhaustion on his face, the dark circles under his eyes and a look that seemed to beg for even a moment's repose, only he was too polite to tell you to leave. 

"You must be tired, Yuuta-san. Let's continue this conversation tomorrow," you said with a smile as you slowly rose from your seat. "Please make yourself comfortable. I—"

"O-Oh, are you leaving now, Otome-san?" His eyes followed your movement, lit up by some kind of expectation. "Sorry… To be honest, I'm… having a hard time resting with all of this space. I was hoping you could stay a little bit more to chat…"

You blinked at him, surprised at his sudden insistence. He raised his hands in defence. 

"O-Only if you'd like! But I know you're probably tired yourself…"

"Not at all," you said as you shook your head and took your seat across from him once again. "You know, Yuuta-san, I understand if you feel like your skills may be a curse. Even I… I thought my technique to be my strength, but it made me weaker than the average sorcerer that I couldn't even study at the magic college."

Yuuta couldn't tear his tired eyes away from your leisurely-paced movement, the wave of your legs as you embraced them, the sparkle in your manicured nails, a polish of your choosing, and the tenderness of your voice as you spoke to him deep in the night, with his traditional-styled room illuminated by a single candle. 

"At the end of the day, we are what we make out of our skills. I want to be one of this society's… Well, let's just say I want to help even if I cannot defend myself in battle," you told him with a small curl to your lips. "Yuuta-san, you have the strength to protect many people… Don't ever say it's not all good."

"Perhaps the only regret I have was…" He didn't have the strength to dispute your declaration any further, only enough to start a tale he can't bring himself to finish. "Believe it or not, I had a fiancée before. She was a childhood friend of mine…"

Yes, even with all of his strength and gifts, he was powerless against death itself. 

— A madness and beauty unlike any other.

Sleep eluded you last night, and it was unfortunate that it was made so evident by the dark crescents under your eyes. On the contrary, your hired bodyguard had a refreshed look on his face as he stepped out of his room in his same grey jacket and his blade in tow. 

"Oh, what are we going to do about this?" Marin queried as she fussed over you as you both stood in the hallway. Compared to your decked-out form from yesterday, you were dressed more casually today. "Sana-san will definitely be asking you why you look like that, ojou-sama."

You yawned into your palm, warm tears prickling your eyes as you fought the urge to drive your fists into them, even more so as you saw Yuuta approaching you with a smile. He looked like he had a good night's rest and he deserved it more than you since you weren't careful with your words. 

"Good morning, Otome-san," he greeted you, to which Marin replied with a polite bow before you could even muster a response. 

"Okkotsu-san," she started. "I understand ojou-sama must have kept you up and you gladly regaled her with stories about your work as a jujutsu-shi, but her work as a celebrity has not fully concluded yet. Please urge her to rest once today's activities have ended."

"M-Marin-chan! Th-There's no need to scold Yuuta-san—"

"O-Of course, Marin-san. My apologies. I thought there would be no harm in talking… But yes, we didn't expect it to go all night," Yuuta replied with a quick bow. 

"Nothing inappropriate, I can only hope," Marin concluded before turning back to you. "Otou-san will be here with the car in a bit. Please send Sana-san my regards, ojou-sama. We are comrades in arms, after all!"

"It means they both look after me and my well-being," you said with a laugh as you finally approached the young man, who had a rather confused look on his face. "Good morning, Yuuta-san. I trust you had a good night's sleep."

Too good, he wanted to say. In fact, your conversation from the previous night about his past before becoming a sorcerer lifted a weight off his shoulders for some reason. He wanted to apologise for making you cry because of his story as well. 

"Well, just like Marin said, work's not done just yet," you started, gently psyching yourself up. "Today we're going to my talent agency, Mieux Folie Productions, to say my farewells and get my final paycheck. I suppose that's a good place to start checking the, uh…"

"It's the best place to start, Otome-san," Yuuta nodded at you. "We want to be thorough, even though I can't really sense any more of that lingering maliciousness from your concert last night."

"We'll see about that," you can only say as you stepped out of the main house's genkan, where Yohan waited in the running car.  

Cradled in the heart of Yokohama was the headquarters of Mieux Folie Productions, one of the city's top talent agencies known for producing the most popular personalities of this time, one of which is the Tall Idol Takada-chan. Since Rose Gold's inception nearly ten years ago and the debut of its second generation, Mieux Folie has maintained its stellar reputation as a star-making machine, eventually branching out to produce more talent on platforms like YouTube. 

But Rose Gold remained the agency's pride and joy and ultimate money-making machine, so the departure of one of its prized idols was met with a lot of disappointment.

"Otome! You're here!" You were greeted by Sana, whom Yuuta recognised as your manager. The older woman had a cordial smile on her face, though her eyes were a little red and puffy. As she moved to embrace you, you returned her hold and beckoned your bodyguard to approach. 

"Oh, could this be the rumoured husband-to-be?" Sana asked in a hushed voice as she released you from her embrace.

"Oh, no, I…" You replied with a small laugh. "Sa-chan, this is Okkotsu Yuuta-san. My family hired him as an additional, uh, bodyguard of sorts. He's from the, uh… And he's tasked with the, hmm… Yeah, that's pretty much it!"

"I see, I see!" Sana nodded at you, completely understanding your fragmented statements. "It's a pleasure, Okkotsu-san! I will leave my dear Otome in your capable hands, then."

"Y-Yes, of course, Kagomura-san."

Yuuta could tell from a single look that Sana had nothing but deep affection for you which you happily reciprocated, so she couldn't possibly be the root of that malicious cursed spirit from last night.

"Ah! Kagomura-san has Otome-chan!" Came a voice from one of your agency's many conference rooms. 

"They've been waiting for you, Otome," Sana nodded at you with a smile. "You should say your goodbyes since—"

The door finally burst open, followed by two girls running in your direction. "Otome-chan!" 

"O-Oh! Maho-chan! Nina-chan!" You exclaimed as the pair trapped you in their embrace. 

"Nooo! We can't believe it's finally happening! You're really retiring now!" The blonde girl with pigtails sobbed as she buried her face in your chest. 

"We're going to miss you so much!" The black-haired girl cried, trying to squeeze herself in your chest as well.

"I, uh…" You said with a defeated smile as you returned their embrace. "I'll miss you guys a lot, too."

"Maho, Nina, that's enough from you two," said another girl in a chic bob haircut. "We've prepared for this for a long time now, so don't make Otome sad with all the waterworks."

"Th-That's right! We p-promised Otome-chan not to cry, s-so…" A girl in braids stammered as she shyly hid behind the one whom Yuuta could only assume was the older sister of the group.

As the five of them regained their composure, they got into their respective positions and flashed their audience with one of their killer poses and catchphrases. "Rose Gold shines too! Kira Kira!"

Mieux Folie's staff clapped in wonder and amusement, pausing from their daily tasks to feast their eyes on their company's highest-acclaimed idol group. You stepped forward with the warmest smile on your face and gave everyone on the floor a deep bow of gratitude eternal.

"Thank you very much for all your support and for taking good care of me for the last five years, everyone! I am truly grateful to have been managed by such kind and steadfast people."

Yuuta could only blend into the background and observe. At some point in their lives, your brilliance has touched the people in this company, evident by how fondly they looked at you as you said your farewells to them. Some of them were even crying to themselves as you continued your appreciation spiel. 

"…most importantly, I'd like to thank my manager, Kagomura Sana-san. She has done a wonderful job of keeping me on track and step with my fellow idols…"

And then it hits him like whiplash— the distinct malicious energy so similar to the one from last night. He tried to move unnoticed so he could investigate further, but he couldn't stop his eyes from being drawn to the middle of the room where you stood.

"…fellow idols, my co-stars, girls whom I consider as good as sisters, Goda Karin onee-san, Kondou Shinju-chan, Tateyama Maho-chan, and Onodera Nina-chan… I hope you continue to support Rose Gold as they are now. My absence from the group doesn't make them any less spectacular, of course. They will continue doing their best…"

His trail ends in an inconspicuous corner of the room where a slightly older bespectacled woman stood, and though she had a warm smile on her face, she radiated the same dim energy that only seemed to rebound in the area. His approach was halted by the sound of applause and cheering from the centre of the floor, where the agency's idols were gathered, along with another figure he easily recognised as the Tall Idol Takada-chan, his colleague Toudou Aoi's one true love.

"Oh! Look at this! It's Rose Gold, in the flesh!" Takada happily spoke into the screen of her mobile phone, where she seemed to be live on her YouTube account. "Rose Gold shines too!"

To which you and the four other girls replied with the same cordial smiles on your faces. "Kira Kira!"

"Now, word on the street is that my good friend Otome-chan has retired from her idol duties! I'm sure many of your fans are wondering…" 

"I have family duties to attend to," you replied to her question with warmth and cheer despite being put on the spot. "I cannot thank my family enough for allowing me to pursue my dreams and meeting everyone in the process, but now it's time for me to return home. I hope everyone continues to support Rose Gold and Takada-chan, too!"

"I'm going to miss our silly little chats, Otome-chan, but we idols will know how and where to find you just in case!" Takada happily declared. "Oh, manager-san! Would you be so kind as to hold my live for us?!"

Sana stepped up as Takada motioned for someone to hold her mobile phone for them. Dutiful as ever, she made sure that all members of Rose Gold and the Tall Idol were perfectly framed onscreen. 

"Since it's your final day here, you wouldn't mind doing one last dance with me, would you, Otome-chan?" 

Karin, Shinju, Maho, and Nina nodded at you in unison, while you threw a sure thumbs-up at Takada. "Let's go! Rose Gold!"

One of Rose Gold's oldest upbeat songs filled the air, and even though the agency's staff had seen your group perform countless times now, each one of them was simply bewitched as you took to the impromptu stage, your blocking and choreography as seamless as always.

"I wanna be a viral star on a shiny stage somewhere! It may be sad— But I still a dream in the darkness of my mind!"

And Yuuta was just as bewitched as he followed your every hop and sway, completely drawn to your electric energy.

"A larger stage suits her better, wouldn't you agree?" 

His daydream was cut short when the bespectacled woman posed a question that was clearly directed at him. 

"We don't need a special future! I don't care if it's just fake— Whatever happens, I just want to grab that light!"

"There's no need to be so suspicious of me, jujutsu-shi. You caught me, and I admit my mistake," Izuna stated. "It's true that I was responsible for that… thing, but I didn't expect it to grow out of proportion…"

"Who are you?" Yuuta questioned, the gleam in his eyes replaced by a bloodlust not many people can sense. Upon hearing how she addressed him, he concluded that she must be a part of jujutsu society herself. 

"Who I am isn't important. I want to know what's going to happen to Otome-san from here on out," she answered him. "I suppose you could call me a fan…"

"Walkin' the streets between the junk, but it's a path I chose myself…"

"When she first walked in here five years ago as an idol trainee, I recognised from the very start that she was from a sorcerer family. I suppose it takes one to know one. She was incredibly empathic, after all… But how she managed to convince her family that she wanted to be an idol, I'll probably never know…" She said with a rueful smile on her face. "Her mere presence here was a sign of upheaval for women of our kind. It meant that she was subverting everyone's expectations of her. Because where else should she be if she wasn't going to be a sorcerer from the start?"

Yuuta could only listen, the excitement of the moment drowned out by the older woman's statement. 

"Girls from sorcerer families are only as valuable as the cursed techniques and the blood that runs in their veins. And I thought that she managed to escape that very fate. That's not the case, unfortunately, since I know she'll be married off to a son of one of the Great Three Sorcerer Clans," Izuna continued, her eyes not at all swayed by the other girls dancing alongside you. "I must have unknowingly cursed her… for not even going against her family's wishes for her. For giving up so quickly on her dreams. But who am I to assume such things when she could be doing all of this on her own accord? Who am I to curse her when I'm just a coward myself…"

He didn't know about that detail. Perhaps his superior found it irrelevant to his investigation that he didn't even bother mentioning it at all. Still, for his sensei to miss out on such a vital piece of information… 

Yuuta raised his dark gaze to rest on your dazzling figure. "She has a warmth that soothes a mind so close to jumping off the edge…"

"Right?! I knew I wasn't the only one who felt that way," the older woman replied before eventually bowing down deep before him. "Please… know that I meant her no harm. Like everyone else in this building, I adore Otome-san and the rest of Rose Gold. I didn't mean for it to grow like that. I didn't mean for it to terrify her."

That's a case closed, he thought to himself. Izuna no longer radiated that stark sinister energy but instead now cried tears of regret, her sobs drowned out by the resounding cheers and applause from the floor as the idols flashed their audience with Takada's signature Taka-tan Beam. 

"There in the window in the reflection, I see my uneasy smile— Wait for the day when sunshine puts the spot on me!"

"Otome-chan, your new bodyguard's pretty good-looking!"

You looked up from your strawberry and mango crepe as Maho and Nina made doe eyes at Yuuta, who was seated further away from the group with a cup of black coffee in hand as you shared desserts with the other girls in a cute little cafe neatly tucked away in a corner of the city. 

"What happened to Yo-chan?" Karin asked rather curiously as she stirred the ornate plastic straw around her iced caramel macchiato. For some reason, Yohan was incredibly popular with your friends despite his age.

"Yo-chan is still around! He's been busy is all, with Kazu nii-san ordering him around and stuff…" You replied to the older girl's question. "A-As for Yuuta-san, he's only going to be my bodyguard for a short while…"

"Ooh, is that right?! I suppose you won't mind us helping ourselves to him once he's done with his work, then!" Maho said teasingly, the slightly younger girl amused by your rather panicked reaction. 

"M-Maho-chan! Y-Yuuta-san is—"

You had to admit that Yuuta was pretty handsome, even when you first saw him so exhausted— standing next to that old man Satoru, too. There was something charming about his reserved nature; refreshing, even, compared to the other men around you who always wanted to have their best foot forward and impress you with just that.

"Oh, right! While we're still here, I wanted to talk to you about something, Otome-chan," Nina fished out her mobile phone from her purse. "Noah onii-chan called me earlier this week and said that he wants you to model for one last photobook."

"Really?!" You remarked excitedly. "I'd love to, of course! Noah-san takes the most gorgeous photos of us…"

"Onii-chan said that it's just you, though, Otome-chan. He even has a theme and a date ready and all…" Nina stated as she browsed through her texts with her older brother. 

Onodera Noah and Nina are the children of a famous actor from the 80s to 90s who married a foreign socialite and made a home in Japan. The siblings were no strangers to the entertainment industry, though the paths they chose couldn't be any different. Nina enjoyed her stardom as one of your generation's favourite idols, while her older brother Noah preferred working as a magic maker behind the camera.

The blonde handed her phone to you to read the details of her brother's planned photoshoot— a punk and grunge theme that stepped away from Rose Gold's usual cute style.

[ O. Noah お兄ちゃん 📷: It's a perfect theme for Otome-chan since she's moving away from Rose Gold's immaculately cute and pristine image. It's something that screams— ]

"…Cool…" Was all you could say after seeing Noah's mood board, which was composed of several images of Osaki Nana, the highly acclaimed vocalist of BLAST, a popular rock band from the early 2000s. Her dusky eye makeup, crimson lips, edgy accessories and husky voice were iconic, almost legendary, and to think that a talented photographer wanted to frame you as such… "O-Of course I'll do it! Noah-san has such great taste!"

"Thanks, Otome-chan! I'm sure onii-chan will be pleased. I'll send you the details on LINE," Nina said with a smile as she proceeded to message her brother. "I'll ask him if I come along too, just to assist you guys and all."

"Tell him I can do it tomorrow," you said, surprising the other girls at the table. "I… have to be in Kyoto first thing next week and I don't know when I'll be back, so…"

Ping! Came the sound of the notification from Nina's phone. "Onii-chan says… Oh, would you look at that? He asked if you were available tomorrow. Sounds like he's super excited for this."

"I'm looking forward to it, too," you concluded before happily digging into your creamy fruit crepe once more. 

"Aww! I want to go, too!" Maho exclaimed. "With Rose Gold on break at the moment, my manager loaded me up with so many solo photoshoots and product endorsement shoots that I hardly have any time to slack off…"

"Y-You're lucky, Maho-chan… My manager's having s-such a hard time booking me for anything…" Shinju quietly replied as she lifted her matcha latte to her lips. 

"We'll find you something worthwhile to do, Shinju," Karin stated with a sure smile on her lips. "Best of luck on your final photobook, Otome. Don't forget to send us a copy when it comes out."

"Of course! Thank you, Karin onee-san!"

From across the small cafe, Yuuta could hardly focus on anything other than following your every move. This place is what he would call your natural habitat. The staff there knew your group and, surprisingly, respected your privacy. Rose Gold weren't idols at that moment, but just regular cute girls doing regular cute girl things. You were laughing about something this time, your eyes lighting up in mirth as the blonde girl, Nina, poked your side. Maho, the brunette, stole a bite from your crepe, while the older sister figure Karin was busy fixing one of Shinju's braids. 

He lowered his eyes to his half-empty cup of coffee, feeling somewhat embarrassed at intruding on such a sacred time reserved for you and your friends whom you'll have to part with soon. The feeling was short-lived, however, when he caught Maho and Nina smiling and waving at him while you attempted to pull them back down to their seats. Their giggling filled the cafe even further when he decided to smile and wave back at them. 

Huh. It was his turn to be embarrassed. Maybe he was getting a little too ahead of himself.

A few moments passed before you finally decided to take your leave, giving each of your friends a long and warm hug. The cafe staff politely asked for your autograph and if you could kindly pose for photos, too, which you happily obliged to. 

Yuuta downed the rest of his coffee as he watched the small crowd around you, all smiles as you flashed Rose Gold's signature pose for the photo. They all gratefully bowed deep before you and you gladly reflected their movement, equally grateful for this little corner of peace and quiet in your ever-changing world as an idol. 

By the time the crowd died out and the rest of the girls left the cafe, you finally approached your bodyguard's table with an apologetic expression. "Yuuta-san, I'm so sorry you had to wait…"

"It's not a problem, Otome-san. It's my job to keep you safe," said Yuuta as he rose from his seat. "But don't your friends think it's strange that you have a bodyguard?"

"Oh, no, they don't think it's weird at all since they believe my backstory," you said with a small dismissive wave of your hand. "That I'm from a rich family. That's partly true when you think about it. They don't know about… the other thing, though."

The other thing being your sorcerer origins. 

"Of course. I suppose not everyone can understand that side of you and that side of things. I'll do my best to make sure you can continue on with your life as normal," he replied with a nod of understanding before eventually standing up. "Shall we go, then?" 

"Y-Yuuta-san, I… Well…" 

Oh, shoot. You stammered at him without even thinking about what you were about to ask. His full attention was on you. "Yes?"

This is all Maho's fault, you couldn't help but think to yourself. It was completely normal for idols to sign autographs for their fans if they could, but Yuuta didn't seem like the kind of guy who liked Takada-chan.

"M-my friends and I were… Well, uh, they were asking why you asked… Takada-chan for an autograph," you said quietly before pursing your lips. 

"Oh, that was for my colleague Toudou. He's a massive Takada-chan fan. Here, let me show you his Instagram," he replied with a smile on his face before pulling out his mobile phone from his pocket and scrolling through his apps. "Here we are. Toudou's always present at her fan meets, but due to the time constraints, he's never gotten her autograph before."

You're presented with the Instagram profile of Toudou, @aoisboogiewoogie— and most of his grid showed him and his fanboying over your agency's madly popular Tall Idol Takada-chan. He has photos of him beside her standees, photos of him outside her fan meet venues, photos of him with products labelled with her face, photos of him Takada-chan merchandise— you name it, he must have a photo of it. 

"Oh, wow. I've never seen such a dedicated fan before," you said as you slowly scrolled through more of Toudou's uploads. 

"I'm sure you must have a lot of fans, Otome-san."

"I suppose…" 

When you clicked on Yuuta's Instagram profile, @okkopi, it was just as you expected, perhaps even more neat and curated than you thought. There were very few posts, some with his friends and colleagues, you can only assume, some photos of his meals, and upon scrolling even deeper, you found a photo of a girl. 

Pretty. She had long dark hair and a distinct mole on the corner of her smiling lips while holding up what seemed to be a half-eaten strawberry doughnut with sprinkles. 

This must be his fiancée, Rika. 

"O-Oh, I'm so sorry for going through your photos, I…" Realising your actions, you could only hand him back his mobile phone without even looking him in the eye. You turned away from him, cheeks hot with embarrassment and something you couldn't quite put your finger on. "I'll call Yo-chan so he can pick us up now."

To which Yuuta could only conclude with… "Ah… Did she see that I was already following her on Insta? Was it weird?" 

It was only later that night when you were doomscrolling through your Instagram in the confines of your bedroom that you realised Yuuta was already following your account. "Oh, man, what have I been posting about lately? Nothing silly, I hope."

You couldn't follow back his account without anyone noticing and you didn't want him to be on the receiving end of any questioning messages, especially as to why the recently-retired centre of Rose Gold was following a private citizen.

You switched from your main account, @yn_rosegoldmfp, to another one. "He'll recognise this profile, I think?"

As he was drying his hair after his bath, Yuuta's mobile phone lit up with a single notification— 

[ Instagram: @daysofyn_ requested to follow you. ]

—

Your photoshoot the next day wasn't until the afternoon when the sun's calmed down a little, so you were afforded a slow-paced morning you spent lazing around in the kitchen while Marin was preparing your breakfast. 

"You should wait in the dining hall, ojou-sama. Okkotsu-san must be there already and you normally have breakfast with him before everything else," Marin told you with a hand on her waist. She moved to adjust the crooked collar of your pale blue yukata. 

"Mmmnnggh…"

"Ojou-sama!"

Marin couldn't believe the unpleasant groan that left your mouth as you sat at the servants' table with your head in your hands. You fought the urge to yawn since you knew she would scold you for staying up too late. Her warm hand brushed over the hair on your forehead and you heard her breathe a sigh of relief since you weren't unwell. 

A small knock on the kitchen's wide wooden door frame alerted your attendant, but you couldn't be bothered to lift your head from your oddly depressive state. 

"Good morning, Marin-san. Have you seen Otome-san this morning? She wasn't in her room when I passed by…"

It was Yuuta with the same refreshed and rested look on his face. He walked into the kitchen in a plain white shirt that seemed to hug his incredibly sturdy form. He didn't have his familiar grey jacket on yet, his blade nowhere in sight, too. Around his neck hung a silver chain that glinted in the morning light, the pendant concealed underneath his shirt.

Marin furrowed her eyebrows at him before opening her mouth to speak but then decided against it when your eyes met, prompting the outsider to turn around and face the figure seated at the servants' table.

"Ah, good morning," he greeted you with a polite bow, but you could see his expression slowly change into a look of complete surprise as you rose your head to greet him back. 

"Good morning, Yuuta-san."

"O-Otome-san?!" 

Oh, you got that a lot. Your work as an idol required you to put on a sweet kind of makeup for all of your gigs meant to accentuate your features and make them a bit sharper. Meanwhile, your bare face made you look younger than usual. Plainer, too, probably.

"My apologies… I, uh…" Yuuta said with a nervous smile on his face, a hand on his nape as though embarrassed by his reaction. "I almost didn't recognise you…"

"Don't worry, I—"

You were surprised when he got down on his knee so your eyes would meet, your face heated up once again as he held your gaze with his eyes that were a deep shade of ocean blue. "You must hear this all the time, but I think you're really pretty."

"Ahem!" 

Marin's feigned cough prompted both of you to straighten up. 

"Good morning, Okkotsu-san! Ojou-sama will be with you shortly," she stated with a warm smile on her face. "Please wait for her in the dining hall."

"Of… Of course."

The young sorcerer left as quietly as he arrived, though he was unable to remove his gaze from your already evident embarrassment. He stepped out of the kitchen with a small smile on his face which he covered with one of his hands. 

"Ojou-sama, that's no good. You know by now what your responsibility entails."

"I know," you shot right back at your attendant, trying not to let your disappointment in yourself show any more later on. "I am set to be married off to the Kamo Clan's heir. Otou-sama went through a painstaking ordeal to see that this marriage would push through because we minor sorcerer clans are always at the mercy of the Great Three Sorcerer Clans."

There was a reason why it was always older jujutsu sorcerers who handled missions related to you. They would go about their day without so much as having to talk to you because they had absolutely nothing in common with you. Older jujutsu-shi would accomplish their missions neatly, like walking in and out of a room without having to touch anything inside it. 

Marin, whom you grew up beside, knew every ebb and glow of your face like the back of her hand. She was sure of one thing right now— You were smitten with this young jujutsu-shi assigned to be your bodyguard in the meantime. 

"Besides, it's not like Yuuta-san would truly look my way," you said with a crooked smile and another dismissive wave of your hand. "I… I'm sure he was just being nice."

And that his heart still belonged to a girl already far beyond his reach.

—

When the afternoon rolled in, you and Yuuta were dropped off by Yohan at the Shibuya photo studio Nina sent you through LINE. It was a chic place that made sense given Noah's known straightforward personality. From the way the studio staff warmly greeted you, it was clear that the Onodera siblings Noah and Nina were no strangers to the place. 

"Ah! They're here!" Nina happily exclaimed as you were led to the main studio. Her older brother, who was busy setting up his gear, was equally elated to see you. Noah followed his sister's trail and enveloped the hugging girls in his arms. 

"Otome-chan! Welcome! I'm so glad you agreed to this!" 

"Oh, the honour is all mine, being the subject of the highly-skilled and highly acclaimed celebrity photographer Onodera Noah," you chuckled at him as he smothered you and his sister into an even bigger embrace. 

"Ah, and who is this?" Noah asked, his curiosity piqued as Yuuta dutifully stood a few paces behind you. "Don't tell me you got a boyfriend so soon after you retired from idol work."

"Of course not, Noah-san! This is Okkotsu Yuuta-san. He's my temporary bodyguard…"

Yuuta could only stand and watch as you introduced him once more as your bodyguard in the meantime. He could be called back to headquarters anytime now that the mystery of the cursed spirits hounding you has been solved. 

One of the studio's staff offered him a chair seeing as he won't be part of the shoot, but he insisted on remaining on his feet so he could act much quicker if needed. 

And now that he's thinking about it, bodyguard work is much tamer compared to most of the missions he is always being assigned to. This was something even a Second Grade sorcerer could handle, but his superior specifically chose him for this job. Why that is, he will probably never know. It was impossible to get a read on how his teacher's mind worked. 

As he had always done for the last couple of days, Yuuta followed your every movement as attentive as he could, watching from the corner as Nina carefully applied a shimmery dusky purple shadow over your closed eyes, lined your waterline with a heated eyeliner pencil, and swiped a striking shade of crimson over your lips. 

"Oh! Good job, Nini! Her makeup is spot on!" Noah ruffled his younger sister's hair as he praised her. 

"Naturally! I studied Osaki Nana-san's makeup last night and…"

The makeup was darker than your usual look and made even heavier by the way you lowered your eyelashes, giving you a more mysterious and gloomy yet haughty appearance. 

For Yuuta, however, there was no masking your radiance, even more so when you broke character and laughed at Nina's glitter-tinged fingertips. 

"Noah onii-chan really pulled out all the stops for this photoshoot, Otome-chan. He even reached out to some of Papa's costume designer friends and colleagues to ask for their advice… Though we all know that BLAST's Osaki Nana is such an icon," the blonde girl said as she ran a comb through your hair, parting it in the middle. "I think one of the older costume designers even lent him a few pieces of clothing for today."

True enough, Noah wheeled out a rack filled with various plaid and leather articles, along with imitation black leather boots your size. "I wish we could have brought in some real Vivienne Westwood stuff, though. Our old man's friend was pretty stingy, but we're thankful, still!"

Nina accompanied you behind the special partition assembled so you could change your clothes and get into character. Meanwhile, Noah did some empty test shots while ensuring the lights were all placed correctly. "All right, looks like everything's set."

Yuuta deduced that Noah could be around his age, or maybe a bit older. He was surprised when the blonde boy approached him with his DSLR camera around his neck. 

"So have you been doing this bodyguard gig for how long?" 

"Oh, uh… I've been doing it for quite some time now."

Not really, he thought to himself as he tried to throw off the photographer from his case. 

"I gotta say, you're younger than Otome-chan's usual bodyguards. I know her family's the richy rich kind, but it's so strange seeing one so close to her age," Noah chuckled. "Ah, but I didn't mean to underestimate you! I just thought it was kinda refreshing to see a younger guy accompanying her."

"No offence taken," Yuuta replied with a kind smile. He knew that those weren't bodyguards, though, but sorcerers handling her cases. 

The two young men exchanged a few more words before turning their attention to you, who stepped back out of the studio barefoot. You were like a different person in the leather jacket, plaid red skirt, dark stockings and spiked accessories, along with your styled hair and edgy makeup…

"Noah-san! Th-the laces of the boots are—!"

But as Yuuta said, there was no masking your radiance and your sweetness. 

"Oh, they're still undone from top to bottom, huh? What a drag. Let me…" Noah moved to assist you, only for him to pause in his tracks when Yuuta stepped up.

"I can help you, Otome-san. Please have a seat first." 

The blonde siblings exchanged knowing looks as they watched your bodyguard place a hand on the small of your back and gesture to the seat that was presented to him earlier. 

"Let's put them on and lace them at once," Yuuta stated as he knelt down before you, gently taking the boots in your hands and slipping your stockinged feet in them. From your vantage point, you could see how dark his eyes and lashes were as he tenderly worked the laces through their hooks. "Not too tight, I hope."

"Just right," you replied to him with a small smile. The boots fit you well, even more so with the laces now tied. "Thanks, Yuuta-san."

Nina approached her older brother with a glint of mischief in her blue eyes. "Onii, you don't suppose…" 

"…Yeah, I see it. I see a vision!" Noah nodded. "What's your bodyguard's name again, Otome-chan?"

You slowly rose from your seat while Yuuta got up from the floor. "O-Oh, his name is Okkotsu Yuuta-san."

"Okkotsu-san, yeah? Listen, can you do us a favour?" 

"Sure. Anything I can help you with?"

Noah lifted one of the larger leather jackets in Yuuta's direction. "Put this on."

Yuuta blinked at him in surprise. "M-Me?" 

"Yes, you. Has anyone ever told you that you have such a fine frame?"

"Noah-san means to say your build is… is good," you told him rather nervously. After seeing him in his form-hugging shirt this morning, you concluded that he wasn't just built well. He was built just like his teacher— the finest of their kind.

"Nini, his hair."

"Got it," Nina nodded at her brother before turning to the dark-haired boy with a sweet smile. "If I may, Okkotsu-san? We'll just change your style a bit, nothing too drastic, I promise."

"O-Okay."

"Let's take some test shots, Otome-chan. And don't worry, Nini won't do anything strange to him, not while I'm around," Noah said with a laugh as he pointed at the spot where you should stand, all the lights shining in your direction now. "The stage is yours."

You took a deep breath before getting into character once more, shrugging off a sleeve from your shoulder to expose a bit of your skin. 

"Good, good! Here, I brought these as props. We don't have to light them," the young photographer fished out a box of cigarettes from his pocket and tossed it in your direction. You caught it deftly, only for it to be taken from your hands by Yuuta, who was now sporting a similar leather jacket and a rather large but stylish chain around his neck. His hair was styled with a bit of wax and his gaze was smouldering. 

"Y—"

"I-I'm sorry. I'm a little nervous," he finally spoke, breaking out of his supposed character. "Nina-san said that Honjo Ren was cool and collected, but I'm not…" 

"Y-You were doing well, actually!" You reassured him. "He doesn't smile that much, so…"

"Osaki Nana's story is one of beauty and tragedy, but that's not what I want to capture here," Noah stated as he slowly raised his camera viewfinder to his eye. "In this story, she reunites with her one true love, Honjo Ren, so that is what I want you to do: hold each other as though you're about to lose each other."

A look of perplexion and despondency washed over Yuuta's features— And you realised why.

Wasn't he able to hold her in her final moments?

"Yuuta-san, look at me."

He does so upon your urging, his darkened gaze meeting your sparkling eyes. You placed your hand on his nape, your fingers tenderly grazing the ends of his jet-black hair, pulling him down much closer to you so your faces were but a breath apart. You took his hand and strategically placed it on your back, feeling the warmth of his hold even through your fashionable clothes.

"Yes, that's what I'm talking about," the photographer stated with a rumble of excitement in his voice as he finally started taking photos. The flashing lights didn't faze you one bit, but you could tell that Yuuta was tense.

"It's okay. I'll be the one to hold you," you whispered to him. "Let me take care of you while we're here."

"You can relax, Okkotsu-san! If you're worried about your face showing, don't. Otome-chan is still the focal point here, so your face won't really be seen. Maybe some bits, but not the whole thing." 

"What a relief," he sighed to himself. "I can't imagine the trouble I'll be in if Gojo-sensei finds out about this."

"I'll beat him up for you if he scolds you," you said with a laugh, to which he could only reply with the same low chuckle. 

"Stop smiling, you two!" 

"S-Sorry!" 

Fortunately, Yuuta only had to stand in for a few photographs. You spent the rest of the photoshoot shuffling in and out of the different outfits the siblings planned and styled for you. As Noah signalled Nina to bring in another of his props, this time a microphone stand, you couldn't help but hum to yourself while trying to stay in character.

"Oh, that song! That's one of BLAST's hits, right? Don't be shy now, just sing!"

"Wh-What?! Don't make me sing!"

"You do know that your face is more honest than your words, don't you, Otome-san?"

You shook your head and tried to stay in character, but as instructed by her brother once more, Nina played the song for you to sing along to.

"I could have seen the other side, taking a step into the sky… Ah, I'm always late! I could've done the same routine, showing the old and golden scene— Ah, I'm lying again to make them go!" 

It was cheesy having to do it, but the song evoked so many emotions in you that you couldn't help but try to picture yourself in the vocalist's shoes. In her position. Didn't she go through the same painstaking road of starting as nobodies before skyrocketing to fame?

"Wearing again my rocking shoes over the puddles made of tears— Flashback, I know you're clever! I remember…" 

Oh, you kind of wanted to cry right now. Your idol journey has come to an end, you still couldn't believe it. It wasn't like your path to becoming an idol was easy, yet you knew deep inside that you were born for something else entirely. 

That must have been the reason why Izuna-san didn't bother saying goodbye to you at all. Because you were a coward. A slave to your destiny just like she was. Being cursed was the least of your concerns.

"I know we could cross over rainbows! I wish that we could aim for the sun again. I know we could dream for tomorrow… To share the long-forgotten glamorous days!"

Yohan nearly had to carry you out of the studio with how tuckered out you were. You could tell from his sharp yet gentle gaze that he was admiring this new look on you, nodding at you in approval. 

"Yo-chan!" Nina excitedly hovered around the older man as he arrived at the studio in his usual pressed haori and hakama. "You're still so dapper as always!"

"Good evening, Nina-san," he gave her a short bow before patting her head. "And you are just as lovely."

"Ooh, I cannot wait to tell this to the girls! Karin-nee is going to smack me!"

You groaned in exhaustion as you approached your guardian, your makeup still immaculately in place as you handed him your things. "Ah, I'm beat! I'm so glad you're here, Yo-chan. Noah-san's asking for more photos, but I'm spent!"

Yuuta followed closely behind you with more of your belongings in his hands. The older man furrowed his brows and gave him a quizzical look. 

"Yuuta-san."

"Y-Yes, Yohan-san?"

"…I like what they did to your hair."

"Oh! Nina-san fixed it for me earlier…"

You bid your farewells to the good-looking siblings, who were still settling their accounts with the photo studio. Nina gave you one last good look before engulfing you in another tight embrace. "Make sure to still call me and message me whenever you can, Otome-chan."

"Of course, Nina-chan."

"Otome-chan, I can't thank you enough for making this dream photoshoot a reality," Noah proceeded to embrace the two girls once more. "The photobook will be ready in a month or so. I'll be sure to send you your copy ASAP."

"Thank you as well for all your trust in me, Noah-san. You two should come visit me in Kyoto every once in a while."

"Just say the word, then. We'll be there."

—

As the car passed by the more familiar corridors of Shibuya, your after-work craving reared its head once more. It was unreasonable of you to ask if you could stop by a convenience store given anyone could recognise you then and there…

"Yo-chan, you think we can stop by a convenience store? I want some Yakult…"

You were ready to be dismissed from your request like he always does, but your heart was thrilled to bits when he decided to park his car in a corner next to a Lawson Store. 

"I'll wait here, then. Yuuta-san will accompany you. Do you have money?"

Oh, crap. 

"I—" 

I didn't think I'd get this far!

Your pause made Yuuta gently tap your hand. "I have some money here. Let's go grab your Yakult, Otome-san."

The two of you shuffled out of the car and into the streets, your face unable to contain your excitement as you entered the convenience store with your bodyguard close behind you, the chilly air making you sneeze all of a sudden. 

"Ot— Ah…" He knew it would be unwise to call you by your name in a public place, so he stepped into your space to gently grab hold of your hand instead. "Don't go where I can't see you, sweetheart."

"?!" 

Your eyes widened in surprise at his chosen remark, which was the quickest thing he could think of at that moment without saying your name out loud so you wouldn't get separated. 

"Excuse me, onee-san? Is this man bothering you?" A young girl in a high school uniform approached you, looking at your bodyguard rather apprehensively. "I-It's just that you looked a bit…"

"O-Oh! Oh, no, I-I'm all right!" You stammered at her before raising your other hand in defence. You instinctively clung onto his arm this time. "M-My boyfriend was just making sure he can see where I'm going. Thank you for your concern!"

Yuuta was struggling to stifle his own laughter and embarrassment at the situation you got yourselves in. He was thankful that a stranger was concerned for others, but you two really should have come up with a plan for such instances. He gave the stranger a small nod of affirmation before leading the way to the refrigerators, leaning down against you to whisper an apology. "I'm so sorry, Otome-san."

"Don't worry about it, sweetheart," you whispered back at him, only to burst into laughter not long after. He gently elbowed you as he hid his face in his hand, trying to quell the amusement bubbling in his throat.

How could you laugh so warmly, sweetly and carelessly in the midst of almost being recognised by someone? It was crazy of you.

"Mmm, maybe I should grab some canned coffee, too? Oh, wait, I'm broke!"

But he savoured the sound of your tender laughter, the softness of your voice that did not suit your moody makeup, and the light in your eyes that seemed to say, things are going to be okay. 

— Chasing a dream.

Yuuta's week-long assignment as your bodyguard finally came to an end. While you contemplated asking your brother to pull some strings for you so he could remain in your service for a while longer, you figured you couldn't hold him at home when there were more important missions for him to accomplish. 

The estate clamoured in activity as they prepared a little send off for the Special Grade sorcerer who solved their lady's predicament. The male servants in particular were grateful for his service. You only found out now that Yuuta not only trained with them every early morning, but even helped out with some of the heavy lifting they had to do throughout the estate. 

"Thank you very much for your hospitality. I felt more like a guest than a bodyguard, if I'm being honest…" 

You were prepared to bid him farewell as well as he thanked your family for their kindness during his stay. As you both waited for the vehicle from Jujutsu Headquarters to arrive, you decided to muster up the courage to ask for his contact details even though you were set to be married soon. 

No, that's no good. You need to gracefully let go of this fleeting infatuation before it gets out of hand. It would be unfair to both him and your future husband if you—

A familiar black car rolled into your driveway, followed by the entrance of a familiar silver-haired sorcerer into your home. "Yo, Yuuta-kun! Ojou-chan!"

"Satoru nii-san!"

The Koganei servants were quick to assemble at the genkan when they heard of Gojo Satoru's arrival, and even the masters of the house made their presence known by greeting him at the doorstep, most especially your older brother Kazuya, who looked both annoyed and pleased by his visit.

"Satoru."

"Kazuya! Long time no see!"

It was a jest, of course, for the two older men only met a few days back to discuss the curse that previously hung over your head. Satoru's nonchalance irked your older brother, the crooked smile on his face slowly straightening out as the silver-haired man walked over to him for a quick handshake. 

"Now that you're here, Kazuya, I'd like to let you know that your request for an escort to Kyoto has been approved," Satoru stated with a smile before eventually turning to his pupil. "That also happens to be your next mission, Yuuta-kun."

You blinked at Kazuya, not at all believing what you were hearing at the moment. "Kazu nii-san, you mean to say—?"

Your brother nodded at you. "Yes, I petitioned for Okkotsu-san to escort you and Marin-chan to the Kamo estate in Kyoto."

"B-But I have Yo-chan with me, too!"

"Sensei, if I may…" Yuuta started. "I'm not disagreeing with this, but if Otome-san is as important as her family says, why is it just Yohan-san and I escorting her to Kyoto?"

The older men exchanged looks, with Satoru nodding at Kazuya to explain the decision. 

"Because my sister will have one of this generation's finest Special Grade sorcerers with her, plus a First Grade sorcerer worth at least 20 men in terms of martial prowess and cursed energy output. I'd accompany her to Kyoto myself if I could, but I have duties I can't leave, and I think any more than you and Yo-san would already be overkill."

Yuuta couldn't believe his ears when he heard of Yohan's capabilities. He never thought that the unassuming old man was that terrifying. If your brother was right, Yohan's cursed energy output would put him on par with the elite himself, Nanami. Or Toudou, too. 

You sighed to yourself. "Well, it's not like there's gonna be a fuss or anything… It doesn't really matter who takes me to Kyoto as long as I get there."

Kazuya furrowed his eyebrows at your statement. He opened his mouth to say something but eventually decided against it. You noticed how Satoru lightly nudged your older brother with his elbow, to which the latter replied with a small shake of his head.

"Shall I have the servants prepare tea and sweets for you, big brothers?" You smiled at the older men. "Surely you must have other things to discuss…"

"Not really. In fact, Satoru was just about to get going," your older brother smiled back at you, a hand now clamped onto the outsider's shoulder to lead him out and away from the crowd. 

"I-I was?" The silver-haired sorcerer could only stammer in response to Kazuya's urging, a confused expression undoubtedly impressed upon his blindfolded eyes. "O-Oi! Kazu—"

You blinked in confusion as your older brother and older brother figure both stepped out of the house, a soundless struggle ensuing between them as you watched them pass nudges and pinches at each other. Sometimes you forget that they are just that close— very much so that your brother manages to bypass Satoru's Infinity. Or was it Satoru who lets his guard down? 

"I see. Safe travels then, Satoru nii-san!"

The tall man was shoved back into the vehicle from which he came from and was unceremoniously sent off with a single wave by Kazuya. "Good riddance. I'm sorry you had to see that, Otome. Okkotsu-san."

"I-It's all right, Koganei-san. If I remember right, you're the second person I've seen capable of manhandling Gojo-sensei like that," Yuuta chuckled. 

"Suguru, I assume. Then again, he has the patience of a saint…" Kazuya uncharacteristically rolled his eyes before composing himself once more. "With all of that said, I owe you an apology for not disclosing our family's plans to extend your… service as a bodyguard of sorts, Okkotsu-san." 

"It's not a problem. I live to take orders from my superiors, after all." 

"That's a pretty grim outlook on life," the older man stated before posing a question about the Kamo heir. "Are you familiar with him? Kamo Noritoshi-kun, I mean."

"Noritoshi-kun is the husband candidate closest to my age. We only met briefly once and he was pleasant to talk to. For that, I'm actually rather relieved," you said with a smile that didn't really reach your eyes. "I'm surprised the Kamo Clan even bothered to respond to my father's request all the while the Zenin Clan had been sending out messages to him, too." 

"We've only worked together briefly, but I can tell you that he's an all-around good guy. Responsible and honest to a fault," Yuuta replied with the same smile that seemed more synthetic than convincing. "You'll be in safe hands, Otome-san." 

"That's… reassuring to hear," you said with a nod, allowing the uncomfortable conversation to fizzle out in order to escape. "Well, I… Marin-chan and I ought to continue our preparations."

That was a lie, since Marin had already prepared everything you needed ahead of time. Yet she understood the look you threw at her the moment your eyes met, and you both bowed before the men in unison before disappearing into the main house. 

Kazuya watched as his younger sister faded into the backdrop of the estate before he eventually turned to the younger man left wondering as well. "Okkotsu-san, if you don't mind me asking, how have the past few days been for you? I trust your needs have been met…" 

"Ah, yes, Koganei-san! I really have no words for how well your family has treated me…" 

"That's heartening to hear. Rest assured that you'll be compensated accordingly for this mission as well," Kazuya continued. "And my sister… I trust she hasn't been troublesome to deal with."

"N-No! Not at all," Yuuta raised his hands in defence. "Otome-san has been nothing but kind and pleasant to me. It's a pleasure to be of service to someone like her."

Kazuya was surprised to hear that from the young sorcerer. Most of the older sorcerers previously tasked with looking after you found you a little bit too demanding for their age and liking— but they all agreed that you were a kind young woman. He expected you to make a bit of mischief with someone around your age handling you, but you were on your best behaviour now. 

Or was it because of the demands your father imposed on you that you're finally taking things more seriously now? Either way, the entire thing was an anomaly to Kazuya.

"That's good to hear. You must have your own preparations to make as well, Okkotsu-san. We'll leave you to it," he said as he casually slid his hands into the sleeves of his hakama. "I can have one of my men drive you to your home."

"Thank you, but there's really no need for that, Koganei-san. Your home is located in one of the most scenic places in the city, so I might just take a walk around the area before I head home."

"I see. I suppose a walk around town would be nice," the older man said, only for him to impose a subtle question. "But you must have a girlfriend to hurry home to."

"Uh, no. Not really," Yuuta said with a more sincere yet sheepish smile this time. "I've been… Well…"

"You don't have to answer that question, Okkotsu-san. I apologise for being nosy," Kazuya chuckled at him. 

"If you don't mind me asking, Koganei-san…"

"Yes?"

Kazuya was told that Yuuta could be a bit inquisitive if something piques his attention, and something about this mission must have set him off. 

"What does Otome-san think about this arrangement?"

The young clan heir fought the urge in his lips to crack into a crooked smile that could let on more than what he intended. 

"Well, you can expect a biassed comment from me, but she has all the time in the world to answer your question once you're on your way to Kyoto."

—

Though Yuuta made several attempts to talk to you throughout the day, all have been rebuffed by Marin, who simply said that her mistress needed her rest, for many days of celebration await her when she arrives at Kyoto. You were thankful for her presence and always counted on her to help set you on the right track, but sometimes you wished she wasn't so attentive. 

Nightfall marked your final evening with your family in your home— in the meantime, at least. If you and Noritoshi come to a mutual understanding in your short homestay, you will have to inform your family that you agree to the marriage. They will head to Kyoto, with your marriage and union the final seal to the deal.

The meeting was just a pretence, for you truly had no say in this matter at all. Same goes for Noritoshi, who has no choice but to accept you as his bride as decreed by his family. It was a mutually beneficial arrangement for both your families, but it didn't put much thought into your compatibility. All you knew is that the Kamo Clan wanted another heir to secure their foothold in Jujutsu society and they needed new blood for that to happen. 

Did your father not at all consider that you might be unhappy with the decision? Perhaps not. You were expected to conduct yourself as a lady of the house would, not a spoiled daughter like you already were. More importantly, he somewhat underestimated the gravity of your gift— your cursed technique— so much that he even ignored the advances of the more cutthroat Zenin Clan. 

It was clear that your father did not account for reprisal. It made you think if the trouble and violence that comes with making a choice and choosing the lesser evil was worth it. 

Kazuya selected Yuuta from a line of capable sorcerers as your second guard because a whole retinue of sorcerers from your family will only invite unwanted attention. Though Marin was raised and trained to be an attendant, she knew the basics of having to defend her master. 

It was only when you were fast asleep and already halfway to Kyoto when your single vehicle was ambushed by sorcerers with a distinct cursed energy that raised so many alarm bells in your head. The sedan screeched to a stop with your path barred and a shadowy curtain laid above your position. 

"Looks like the Zenin are trying to bargain," Yohan sighed as he unbuckled his seatbelt. 

"Y-Yo-chan! Where are you going?!" You asked nervously as Marin prepared to spirit you away from the scene. 

"To bargain, ojou-san," the older man stated. He took a deep breath and removed his aviator sunglasses, carefully dispensing it in your hands. "No need to worry. I'll be back."

"Yohan-san, I can—" Yuuta started, unbuckling his seatbelt as he watched the older sorcerer turn off the car's ignition. He was swiftly cut off, however.

"Your task is to keep Otome ojou-san safe, Okkotsu-san. I trust you can do that while I'm occupied with these—" Yohan clicked his tongue in obvious annoyance. "—uninvited guests."

"But they're—"

"A trifle in our trip, so I'll be quick."

"No! Yo-chan! We're not—" You cried out anxiously, only for you to be hastily pulled out of the car by Marin, who was ready to make a run for it.  "Marin-chan!"

"I am charged to keep you safe, ojou-sama. If Otou-san says he'll handle it—"

Yohan and Yuuta were finished conversing, the tired look in the young sorcerer's eyes replaced with a glint of tenacity. 

"Otome-san, Yohan-san needs the area. We'll come back for him," Yuuta tried to coax you out of the car willingly. "It's a terrible turn of events, but this is why we're here. Why I'm here. Just as you have faith in me, have faith in him, too."

The anxiety in your heart boiled over ever since you left your home. It did not bubble down even as you slept soundly moments ago. You were gripped with the fear of losing those precious to you when you're finally married off, but this panic you felt right now was something else. 

"He's right, ojou-san. Have a little faith in this old man," Yohan chuckled at you. "I promise you I'll be quick."

Yohan was just as much of a father to you as he was to Marin. He was the kind of man who was married to his duties, thus his current unmarried status. He once said that he'll retire when the time is right, and it's never too late for him to get married since he's quite the looker, or so he once joked. 

"Hear me and obey, Yo-chan," you stated, feigning bravery as you stepped out of the car. "Return to me!"

"Of course, ojou-san."

You slipped his sunglasses over your eyes before running off with Marin and Yuuta, his blade unsheathed as he watched your back for any attackers. Those who dared to follow you were swiftly dealt with by Yuuta, whom the Zenin did not take into account when planning this ambush. 

It was only when you were running that you completely gauged the situation. The Zenin sent out a unit of sorcerers that were plenty in number but were short in cursed energy. So much so that Yohan's cursed technique, Gold Smoke, eclipsed their barrage of attacks. 

From the distance and hidden in the bush, you saw how the ambushers fell to the ground like flies dropping dead as the curtain was dispersed.

"You know, ojou-sama, it's unlike you to worry so much about otou-san," Marin remarked as she crouched down next to you. "He's dealt with more dangerous situations than this before."

"You're right. I somehow forgot that he's a First Grade sorcerer," you replied with a sigh, deciding against speaking about your irrational fear of losing those you love. "Even if Yo-chan finishes soon, we've already been derailed from our appointment."

"I already informed Kazuya-san about this, Otome-san. He will get in touch with the Kamo Clan and inform them about this incident," Yuuta stated rather calmly. He didn't want to spook you any further by talking about details and the chances of your circumstances turning into a serious crisis. After securing your safety, he was just about ready to jump into the scene to assist the older sorcerer, but his intentions were unnecessary when you spotted your car's bright red tail lights blinking in the distance. 

The signal, he thought to himself, nearly in disbelief. He really did them in. 

True enough, there was nary a hint of the other party's presence in the area, the blow of the gentle evening breeze the only thing you could feel apart from the rush of blood in your ears. 

"Stay close to me," Yuuta told you as he straightened his back and angled his blade in defence. Marin nodded at you to follow his lead as he walked out of the bush and back onto the main road. Your guardians sandwiched you between themselves, an air of caution and aversion as you all approached Yohan, his favourite cigarette lighted between his lips as he stood by the driver's side of the car. 

A wave of relief washed over you as you three stood before him, all the adrenaline leaving your body as you fell on your knees, much to Marin's surprise. "Y-Yo-chan…"

The older sorcerer grinned at you as he caught you by your arm. "I told you I'd be quick, didn't I, ojou-san?"

"And you nearly gave me a heart attack, too!" You retorted, tears pricking your eyes as you broke into weak laughter. "I can't do that again, Yo-chan… The next time this happens, I—"

"No, that is enough. After all of this, I simply cannot, in good faith, send you to the Kamo House," Yohan stated firmly. While he was known to be fiercely loyal to the Koganei Clan, he wasn't above showing his masters the error of their ways. He shook his head with what seemed to be a look of disappointment. "I warned the master against this, that your gift is both a blessing and a curse and should be nurtured… But instead he chose to sell you off— The decision itself is inconceivable!"

Marin was taken aback by this sudden outburst. "Otou-san! What are you saying?! You shouldn't speak against our master—" 

"Marin, my child, this is madness! Sending our young mistress to one of the Great Three Sorcerer Clans as though she is nothing but a breeding mare," he spat out the stubbed out cigarette. "They're making a mistake sending her there. To the Kamo House. To the Zenin House. Fortunately Gojo-san is sensible enough to—"

Yohan was visibly disturbed and angered by the turn of events. His fingers shook as he raised another of his cigarettes to his mouth, unable to spark a flame with his gilded lighter. It was only when you gripped his wrists that he steadied himself once more. "Ojou-san, please… Just say the word. Say it and I will gladly take you back."

"I…"

I want to go home.

"I'll take whatever punishment the master has for me if it means you'll be safe back home."

But there is no going back from this. 

"No, Yo-chan. This is my duty. To our family, first and foremost. I can live a lifetime of unhappiness and displeasure if it means I can secure the clan's future. They've drilled it into me for so long that it was impossible to avoid, even when I became an idol." 

So that's what she thinks about this, Yuuta thought to himself as he watched you purse your lips. However, there was simply no concealing the shine of your tears that soaked your lashes even underneath Yohan's aviator sunglasses. You would subject yourself to a lifetime of unhappiness and live with it if it meant your own family could live comfortably undetected and protected by one of the Great Three Sorcerer Clans.

But still, why would someone willingly walk to their own undoing? Why curse yourself to a lifetime of unhappiness? He couldn't wrap his mind around it. 

"We'll take a detour tonight, ojou-san. If the Kamo Clan truly values their ties with our family, they will agree to meet us at a rendezvous point first thing tomorrow morning," Yohan finally stated as he urged the three of you to get in the car once more. "I will take responsibility for this excursion, so please take this opportunity to take it easy and rest up after all that's happened."

"All right, then…"

"And if by tomorrow morning, you've had a change of heart, we can always return to Tokyo," Yohan reassured you once more as he started the car and drove off as though nothing happened, even though the incident stirred so much unrest in your heart. 

It took about an hour of driving before Yohan took an unexpected turn and another 20 minutes of untraceable road before the vehicle eventually ground to a halt outside a well-maintained ryokan concealed deep in the woods edging Kyoto. It didn't take long for you to notice that there was a curtain around the area. 

"This place is owned by a good friend of mine," Yohan started as he unbuckled his seatbelt. "They've maintained this place for as long as I can remember."

Soon enough, an older woman around his age stepped out of the ryokan to welcome your group. She had an elegant, cordial smile on her face that suited the muted orange kimono she wore. 

"It's good to see you well, Yohan," the elderly woman said with a warm smile as she rested her gaze on you. "Ah, and you must be the lady of the Koganei House. You truly are as lovely as he recounted. Your guardian has told me much about you… And this one must be your Marin. How pretty you are as well!"

As for Yuuta, she only had a quick nod when she recognised him as one of jujutsu society's Special Grade sorcerers. 

"Please allow me to introduce myself. I am the proprietor of this inn. My name is Irino Izana. My husband and I are long-time friends with your Yohan."

"Irino?" You asked curiously. "Do you happen to know an Irino Izuna-san?…"

"Why, yes. She's my daughter. I— Oh, it's you. You must be the one… The idol she so adores dressing up in elaborate clothes and costumes. I couldn't believe it at first when she said you were…" Izana stated with a rueful smile. "Just like her, she said— a girl from a sorcerer family who found her way to stardom."

It clicks in your head all of a sudden. The reason why Izuna adored you so even when you were just an idol trainee, why she favoured you over everyone else in the group. You were just like her. 

"Izuna-san has since retired from her idol work and from her costume designing. Has she… been well?"

Izana averted her gaze from your face. "Yohan said that you are to be the bride of the Kamo heir. Your family must be overjoyed that you're fulfilling your duties…"

"Um, yes, I suppose," you replied with a small smile. "If… If Izuna-san is here, I would love to see her…"

Izana raised her eyes to meet yours, a subtle sharpness in her gaze that seemed more like a look of regret. "My apologies, ojou-san, but Izuna isn't here. You must have heard from your agency… the reason she retired from her job."

"Oh. They said she was going to get married, but…"

You and Yuuta exchanged glances, to which he said, "Thank you for your hospitality, Irino-san. If it's alright with you, Otome-san would like to get some rest."

"Ah, of course. How silly of us to be standing here when I should have welcomed you inside. Please, please come in! I will have our attendants carry your belongings to your lodging," the elderly woman said, her demeanour back to that of a hotelier.

As your group was ushered inside the quaint traditional inn, you quietly caught Yuuta by his sleeve, prompting him to slow his steps so that you were side by side. 

"Ojou—" Marin attempted to pull you back next to her, only for her to be stopped by Yohan. "O-Otou-san?"

"Leave them be. He is capable of protecting her, but I doubt anyone would find us here."

"But—"

"Otome knows what she is doing, Marin."

"She is disregarding her obligation to the masters of—"

The older man shook his head. "She is simply deciding for herself." 

The spacious ryokan allowed for your small group to each have their own room. While the quiet night was perfect for resting, too many thoughts raced through your mind for you to even lie down on the futon carefully laid out in the middle of the room. 

Was Yohan serious about returning home if you said you wanted to? More importantly, he was ready to accept whatever punishment your father would give him, all for your sake. 

The pearly white moon hung perfectly in the middle of your window like an exquisite painting. It was hard to tear your eyes from its beauty, so you beheld it even more by resting your head on the window sill. 

"Izuna-san must have been married off, too."

She did not have someone who would intercede on her behalf. Perhaps you may have been more spoiled than the other daughters of sorcerer families… Because how fortunate were you to have someone like that in your life? Yohan did not want you to live a lifetime of unhappiness. He did not want you to curse yourself to a lifetime of displeasure. 

And happiness for you was so simple. Being able to continue the work you love. Receiving the adoration of your friends and many fans. Drinking Yakult after a long day at work. Dressing up in all of Izuna's finely crafted costumes. 

"Mm…" You hummed to yourself as you recalled those precious moments that are now just memories meant to be cherished. 

—

Yuuta couldn't sleep either. But neither could Yohan, and they were equally surprised to find each other downstairs at the common area. While the older sorcerer made use of the yukata provided by their lodging, the younger one was still in his clothes from earlier that day.

"Are you having trouble sleeping, Yohan-san?"

"I could ask you the same thing," Yohan replied with a chuckle. "I used to work with the owners of this inn back when they were still sorcerers. Surprisingly, they got together one day and the rest was history."

"Ah, so that's what Irino-san meant when she said that you were good friends."

"Yes. Her husband was mad jealous of me back then, too, but I never understood why he felt that way," Yohan stated as he fished out his lighter and pack of cigarettes. 

"He must have thought you were a rival for, uh…"

"Izana? What a joke," the older man snorted, bringing a cigarette to his lips. "I would have accepted him being more jealous of my skills rather than being interested in the same girl. After all, Yoshitaka despised how I went about my work since I had very little regard for it. He came from an esteemed sorcerer clan while I was an outsider to jujutsu society with no significant ties to any family. It was only when Seito— Otome's father— commissioned me to be his guard that I found myself an anchor in this society."

"I see…" 

"Izana is a good friend, but I never liked her that way," Yohan said as he blew a puff of smoke away from Yuuta's direction. 

For Yuuta, it almost seemed like the more experienced sorcerer was basking in his nostalgia— wistful, even. 

"It was good that Seito-sama offered me this position when we met off the bat. He is a good master— he pays well and is an attentive clan leader, but he's not exactly the wisest when it comes to reading people, especially his children," the older man said with a small laugh. "If he had taken the time to get to know his children better, he would have known that ojou-san loves her work as an idol and that she makes so many people happy. That Kazuya-kun only has eyes for one person and one person alone and he could never have him— not in this lifetime, at least… If Seito-sama had grown to understand her, he'd know for certain that he would be cursing his daughter to a lifetime of unhappiness."

Yohan adjusted his aviator sunglasses, but Yuuta couldn't miss how red his nose had become. 

"Yoshitaka made an offer before Seito-sama did, but I rejected it because I'd be cursing myself to a lifetime of unhappiness too, had I accepted it. He despised how modern I was compared to his more antiquated ways. If I had accepted his offer, I wouldn't be the person I am now. I would have been tied to his outdated beliefs, too," he continued with the same rueful smile on his now-evidently tired face. "I might have loved him, but I valued my freedom of being more than anything." 

Loved? 

"What? Yohan-san, you—"

"Cursing yourself to a lifetime of unhappiness… What bullshit," Yohan shook his head. "If ojou-san decides to return home, I will show her father the error of his ways. That is if she does decide to… But if she insists on pressing forward with the rendezvous, then I have no choice but to heed her orders." 

Unhappiness was the very same thing Yuuta cursed himself with. He tormented himself with a life of contentment without wanting anything— anything at all— because why on earth was he free to live his life while she— Rika— had to die? Yet it wasn't like he was the cause of all of it. Why did he blame himself for something that was far beyond his control?

Wanting always leads to loss, after all, he told himself. But what if it didn't have to?

"You know Otome happens to be very fond of you," Yohan stated with a smile. "Somehow it always felt like her family knew this would happen. That's why they always hired older sorcerers for these kinds of jobs. Still, Gojo-san himself insisted that you take this job." 

"I didn't think much of it, either," Yuuta replied with a small chuckle. "Otome-san has been pleasant to work with…"

"And what do you think of her?"

"I-I'm sorry?"

"What do you think of her?" Yohan repeated his question. "Especially since you know that she looks upon you with fondness."

"W-Well, she's… She's beautiful, kind, and warm… I, uh…"

"Does she make you nervous?" 

Yohan noticed how the younger sorcerer went bright red at his queries. He couldn't help but laugh all of a sudden.

"Y-You know you shouldn't make fun of your juniors, Yohan-san," Yuuta managed a weak rebuttal. "O-Otome-san is a wonderful woman, but— But I know where I should stand in this—"

"This circus? This sham of an engagement?" The older sorcerer replied as he stubbed out his cigarette. "I know you aren't as gutless as you make yourself out to be, Yuuta-kun. I think it's about time you started using that status of yours to your advantage. It's not just for display, is it?"

"But… But what if it's just me?" Yuuta said with a slight quiver in his voice. "Rika will never forgive me…"

"But what if it isn't just you?" Yohan shot back at him. "The dead can neither forgive nor dictate what it is the living can still do. And I mean no disrespect to her, but what you're doing to yourself is tantamount to emotional suicide."

"I'm afraid that if I want her too badly, she… She might—"

"Listen, kid. The worst thing that could happen is her wanting you just as much."

—

For once in a long time, Yuuta had a grasp of what he wanted— For himself, more than anything. He could still hear Yohan's voice in his head apart from the blood rushing in his ears as he hastily made his way to your room. He had no idea if you were already asleep, but he needed you to know something. 

So when you slid open the door for him after he asked if you were still awake, you were both equally surprised. And equally at a loss. And equally waiting, anticipating, the thumping in your chests seeming unheard, but you could— You could feel your heart in your throat now. What the hell was going on?

And Yuuta couldn't tear his eyes off you. He meant it when he said that you were beautiful even in this state of undoneness— your hair unkempt, your yukata slightly left open, the twinkle of wonder and confusion in your gaze that made him want to answer your every question.  

"It crossed my mind," he told you, finally breaking the silence. "Taking you away. We can go wherever you want to go."

"Y-Yuuta-san? Wh-Whatever do you mean?…"

"I hope you don't find it strange that I… want to be at your beck and call. And… And I know it won't be much work at all because you want so little—"

You stepped into his space and carefully brought a hand to his cheek. He was shaking in his spot, but he sank into your palm so comfortably and contentedly and the sigh of relief he breathed out was just so warm. 

"Do you even know what you're doing to me now?" You quietly asked him. He held your wrist in place when you tried to pull away from him.

"Without a doubt, I like you more than you think…" He chuckled. "I wish you'd trust me to be honest, even for just a little bit…"

What? 

"You… like me?"

"Is it a terrible idea for you?"

"No, no, not at all," you shook your head at him. "But why… Where is this all coming from?"

"I… had a little help," Yuuta stated with a nervous smile as he raised a hand to rub the back of his neck. "And I know I'm wanting something— someone way above my paygrade—"

"You're silly," you cut him off with a laugh. "You're a Special Grade sorcerer. You can have anything you want…"

"So long as I work for it."

"Then work for it," you said, taking his free hand into yours to finally pull him into your room. "You said that you didn't mind being at my beck and call, so does that mean you'll do whatever it is I tell you?"

Yuuta visibly swallowed at your question, but he allowed himself to be pulled in by your tender hold. He resisted so little when you pulled him down to your futon, his eyes now wide with surprise and wonder. 

"Are you… holding back?" Your voice was hushed to a whisper. The ghost of a smile danced on your lips as you gently drew him closer to you. 

Yuuta was a master of self-control, but the hardened warrior in him was rendered absolutely malleable in your hands as you pleaded to him with that look you gave him— that gaze so full of stars and a slightly crimson smile. Pretty girls with pretty smiles have always been his weakness. Not that he'd ever admit it, but it was already a given fact. 

Rika. The girl in the picture had the most mischievous smile that was still so endearing to him, after all. 

"You don't have to hold back at all." 

His resolve crumbled bit by bit the lower your yukata fell off your shoulders. 

"The work you do is hard. If… If there's any way I canmmf—"

He closed the distance between the two of you with one swift kiss, one so chaste that it pulled at your heart and made you think twice about seducing him further. 

"I think you do plenty," he murmured, his warm forehead resting against your own. "I'm no stranger to being adored, yet it does feel quite different coming from a living, breathing heart." 

You were done appeasing ghosts from the past, but that didn't mean you would disrespect their memory. 

"Because I'm certain Rika-san would want me to cherish you." 

No, you weren't, but did any of that matter at all now? You adored him now. And now is all you have. 

"You're not sure, are you?" He chuckled, the tiny smile on his obviously tired face slowly melting into a thin line. "You should know that I… I've never been with anyone at all, so I may be lack—"

"What? And you think I'm some expert at this?" You said with a small smile, warm hands on his even warmer face. "Oh, Yuuta. I've never wanted anyone as terribly as I want you. I—"

His fingers gently dug into the skin of your thighs as he lifted you onto his lap, lips on lips as you coaxed him to soften his tense shoulders. 

You didn't need the light to know that he was flushed all over. 

"I am yours," he breathed the words against your cheek. "If you'll have me." 

"I most certainly will." 

Something about the way he spoke to you made you tear up. How you wish you could kiss away the hurt that was so evident on his face. 

"The moon is exquisitely beautiful tonight, isn't it?" You whispered against his brow. A low hum of agreement that left his lips tickled your neck. 

"You're still prettier," he mumbled back, curling his arms around you to pull you even closer to him. You gently collided with his bare chest, allowing him to hold you tighter. 

"Don't say that," you chided him before running your fingers through his dark hair. "Mm…"

"Is something on your mind?"

"No, nothing at all," you told him, contentedly resting your hand on his nape. 

"Can you sing for me?" 

"Demanding things from me now, are we?" You said with a laugh. 

"I heard you humming something earlier this evening. Can you sing that one?"

"Now that is above my paygrade. But since you asked so nicely, I might just…"

Yuuta released you from his embrace and allowed you to sit up, pulling up the covers with you while he watched you with rapt anticipation despite his sleepy gaze. 

"I'm who I am, as I am; you're who you are, as who you are— The final words you whispered, before you left me with a scar."

"On your familiar silver jacket splattered coffee's left a stain, destined always to remain… And still we're lost inside the habit— Tears reflecting in the pane show our pitiful refrain."

You brought your hand to his cheek once more, but he grasped your fingers to press a tender kiss on your palm.  

"Stay with me… In the dead of night I'm banging on your door. I'm begging you, without you I'm done for. Now the winter arrived, like the tears in our eyes—" 

"Stay with me… While your voice remains an echo of the past, I'm holding on to moments that won't last. I will never forget, I will never regret our love…"

This time, he felt courageous enough to pull you down back next to him and press another kiss on your lips, tasting your sweetness once more along with the saltiness of your tears.

"Are you okay?" He asked you, your face in his warm hands. A look of concern lit his eyes as he surveyed your expression. "Are you cold?"

"I'm fine," you said. It was your turn to grip his wrists in place this time. "There is something I must tell you, though… A-And I can understand if you feel it will be such a huge undertaking for you."

Yuuta sat up and helped you up as well, sensing the seriousness of this conversation. "I'm listening." 

"My family… My cursed technique is called Soul Resonance. A binding vow between a fellow sorcerer and I will allow me to turn into a weapon— any weapon you might desire. I, uh… You must have realised by now why I am so against my arranged marriage. I cannot allow myself or my cursed technique to be used by someone I don't know. Someone who may abuse this power," you stated as you wrung your fingers around the covers over your shoulders. "And this… This binding vow will be for eternity. My power will be yours until the day I die."

It finally dawned on Yuuta why two of the Great Three Sorcerer Clans wanted you into their fold and why your presence stirred so much controversy. You lowered your gaze in shame, your mind now grasping at straws and desperately thinking of ways this revelation could go wrong, and how he could outright reject you… But he stepped up, and you thought to yourself that I should, too. 

"Yuuta… You wanted nothing from me but me. You will neither yearn for nor despise my power because you have no need for it," you said, finally raising your eyes to meet his steady blue gaze. "You want me simply because you adore me."

You couldn't get a read on his expression, but it was soft and somewhat sympathetic. 

"So I feel my power rests safe and well in your hands, while my heart is safe next to yours," you concluded with a small nod. "Only if you'll have me." 

It was a power that ostracised you, much like him when he was just starting as a sorcerer. How could he not understand where you were coming from? And your wisdom— the way you knew full well that it would be a source of conflict if not managed well. His desire to protect you as charged to him flowered into a desire to hold you close simply because he adored you. 

Yuuta smiled at you before eventually taking your hands in his, raising your cold knuckles to his warm lips. "I would want nothing more than for your heart to be safe next to mine."

— Where my heart is safe.

It was a soundless, wordless understanding when you and Yuuta stepped out of the inn hand in hand. Yohan simply nodded at you both and gestured for you to get in the car. You turned to the boy, who gently released your hand so you could bid farewell to the owner of the establishment. 

"I must thank you for accommodating us, Irino-san," you said with a smile as you bowed down before the older woman. "Um, if you have any means of communicating with Izuna-san, I'd like for you to tell her that I… I'm well, I followed my heart, and that I forgive her. And that I hope she finds it in her heart to forgive herself, too."

Izana held your gaze for a moment before smiling back at you. She took your hands in hers and gently squeezed them, as though letting you know that things will be alright from here on out. "Of course. I'll be sure to let her know." 

When Yohan approached the older woman, they simply exchanged a quick but heartfelt embrace. "Be safe, Yohan. I'll let Taka know that you dropped by"

"No need," he replied with a grin. "I'm certain he still despises me to the point of cursing my existence."

"Yohan," Izana stated as she caught him by his hand. "Taka may have resented you a little for rejecting his proposition, but he never hated you." 

Yuuta was quick to notice the change in the older sorcerer's expression, the hint of yearning that flashed across his aged face— 

"We should get going, Yo-chan," You called out to your guardian as you read the notification on your mobile phone. "I just received a text from Kazu nii-san telling me to return home…"

"What? Did he just send that message now?" Yuuta asked. You nodded as you handed over your phone to him. "Yohan-san."

"I hear you, kid. We have to go."

"What? Wait, what's going on?" You asked, evidently confused by Yohan's sudden sense of urgency as he hurriedly urged you to get in the car. 

"We'll explain on the way back."

—

And it was just how Yuuta and Yohan described the whole thing. They were warned beforehand that the Zenin Clan did not take rejection well, so they should be prepared for anything, such as the attack from last night. Kazuya instructed them that he will be their point of contact and he will inform them of the clan's decisions before they made their move. But if he ever reaches out to his sister instead, that is something else. 

It was an emergency. 

Sorcerers from the Zenin Clan surrounded your estate's perimeters, but they allowed you entrance since it was you they were looking for, after all. 

The Zenin Clan sorcerers did not permit Yohan, Marin or Yuuta to accompany you to your family's audience hall, but a single nod was all it took for the three of them to understand. Do what you must. 

In the middle of the estate shoin sat the ever domineering head of the Zenin Clan, and he stank of alcohol even though you were still a metre's length away from him. Your clan's servants were gathered around him like he was the master of the house, while your father and brother sat adjacent to him. 

"Oh, I can see now why Naoya's so upset—" Zenin Naobito stated before taking another swig of sake from his glazed ceramic bottle. "She's as ripe as a peach."

"Zenin-sama," you greeted the older man. You tried to do so warmly, but your expression betrayed you as your lips curled in disgust, a look he didn't miss. 

"You wound me, girl. I would have had you flogged for looking at me that way if you were my daughter."

"Yes, so you see now why I'm trying to avoid that from happening," you shot back at him, much to your father and brother's surprise. You saw Kazuya shake his head at you, his sharp gaze telling you to stop it with your smart mouth.

And yet Naobito responded to your amusing quip with thunderous laughter. "What a quick witted girl you are. Though you'd be dead by now if not for that cursed technique of yours… The blood that flows in your veins. Since you want to be all smart with me, you know by now what will happen if you refuse to acquiesce to our clan's generous offer."

"The only thing that's going to happen is you and your clan leaving my home," you stated. "Or do you want to do this the hard way and be kicked out instead?"

Naobito unceremoniously dropped his bottle of sake on the tatami floor and turned to your father. "Seito! You said she would be an agreeable girl!"

"She—" 

You raised a hand to stop your father from speaking any further. He quieted down, much to your surprise. 

"My father and I will speak later, Zenin-sama," you continued. "But you will leave my family alone after this. You won't find much value in me, after all. Not after I—"

A scuffle by the entrance of the audience hall prompted your house's servants to gather in a single corner while your father and brother rose to their feet to shield them from possible harm. But the smoke was glimmering gold, which only meant one thing— Yohan cleared the way. 

"Otome!" 

From the smoke emerged Yuuta and his unsheathed blade, his arm outstretched toward you as you lunged right at him, meeting his open arms and kissing him then and there. You paid no mind to the gasps from your family's servants, the sounds of the clashing blades and heavy footsteps fading into the distance as you suddenly felt completely weightless.   

Your shared cursed energy easily and effortlessly melded together, allowing you to take the form of a gilded weapon he was most adept at using, your spirit form now perched upon his shoulder.  

"She formed a binding vow… with that lad! Special Grade sorcerer Okkotsu Yuuta!" Naobito slowly rose to his feet, the same look of amusement on his face as the gilded blade was aimed at him. "I should have known this worthless family would pull such a trick!"

"You forget just how fast I am, old man," Yuuta stated point blankly, unfazed by the older sorcerer's tirade. "Perhaps not as fast as you, but I sure as hell can take you in a fight." 

Naobito came here at his youngest son's behest— the spoiled thing— and he expected almost little to no resistance from your family. Seito was a known sycophant and he would have willingly handed over his daughter to keep the peace. The Zenin didn't account for Yuuta at all, and that you had a mind of your own. "Tch."

"Her offer still stands, by the way. Either you take your filth out of their home or I'll do it for her."

And how embarrassing would be it be for the rest of the society to know that he, of all people, attempted to bully a low-ranking clan into submission. 

—

While you and your father were busy ensuring all of your family's staff and servants were accounted for, Yohan and Yuuta were surveying the estate's perimeters. 

Kazuya was making important phone calls to the magic college when the door to the master's den slid open. 

"Kazu nii-san, it's Satoru nii-san. He came to check on us after that thing," you said with a smile. 

Satoru entered the den with an unreadable expression on his face though his blindfold hung around his neck. "Kazuya."

But your older brother had an aggrieved look on his face as compared to his usual annoyed expression. "Where were you, you idiot? I called you as soon as they started raiding our home—"

"I'm sorry. I still came here as soon as I could—"

"Stop apologising, damn it! I'm so tired of it!" 

In a rare moment of weakness, Kazuya dropped to his knees in tears, no longer caring for how his hakama creased and wrinkled up under his weight. Satoru got down on one knee and carefully placed a hand on his friend's quivering shoulder, not at all sure if he would be rebuffed. 

"Hey, ojou-san. Why don't we catch up later?" Satoru told you, the confusion on your face clear as day. "Your brother and I have to talk for a bit."

"Oh, uh, o-okay then."

You slid the door closed behind you, only to find Yuuta standing right outside the den. 

"I heard that Gojo-sensei just arrived."

"Ah, yeah. He rushed all the way to nii-san, though… He was, well… pretty upset about the situation and how Satoru nii-san didn't come much sooner."

"Oh, I see…" Was all he could say, because while you were bewildered by your older brother's unusual unstable reaction, he knew the reason, perhaps a little bit too well. The sadness in Yohan's voice was so palpable, after all. Kazuya-kun only has eyes for one person and one person alone and he could never have him— not in this lifetime, at least…

Yuuta made a conclusion he couldn't quite share with you yet. He must have felt abandoned by sensei. 

"We should wait for them outside," he told you with a small smile on his face. He took you by the hand and everything was well in the world again, for you, at least. 

"I suppose I have some explaining to do, after all," you replied with a sigh of defeat. "B-But don't worry! My father is an agreeable man a-and we have Yo-chan on our corner, too."

"About that…"

As he gently pulled you out by hand to your estate's sprawling gardens, you found your father Seito and Yohan conversing just under the aged ginkgo tree, its golden foliage akin to a canopy overhead. 

"I think Yohan-san gave your father the scolding he threatened to give," Yuuta chuckled as you stood side by side. "It fills me with confidence that we have someone like him in our corner." 

"Mm…"

"I'm only a little worried. The binding vow we made will tie us to each other for eternity. After having resonated with you, I understand why you wished for this power to end up in the right hands. I'm not saying I am the right choice for this, but I… I'll endeavour to…" 

You squeezed his hand and gave him a reassuring smile. "I know, Yuuta."

He squeezed your hand right back before eventually lifting it to his chest. "And you… might feel obligated to accompany me on missions, but I'll never require you to do so…"

"I'm not really that noble, Yuuta, so I'll be sure not to get in your way. Also, I doubt that HQ will let me join you since I'm technically an ungraded sorcerer— I'm pretty much like a civilian, to say the least." 

It was your turn to chuckle this time. "However, we'll have to register this… newfound relationship that we have, for formality's sake. We are weapon and meister now."

"Ah, of course."

"And you do know the best way to keep our power safe is by marrying into my family, correct?"

"Well, I— w-wait, did you say marry into your family?!"

"Oh, is the thought so disagreeable to you?" You pouted at him this time, only for the corner of your lips to drop to a small frown. "But I understand your apprehension… You were once engaged, after all…"

Padded footsteps from behind you made their approach, another pair closely following. 

"Ojou-san, you aren't a replacement for what he lost. Yuuta sees you as you are. He understands that you and Rika-chan are two different people, thus he should see you differently."

It was Satoru with a Cheshire Cat grin on his lips. His blue eyes were concealed beneath his dark blindfold once more, the look you and everyone else was more accustomed to. Closely behind him was your older brother, no more tears on his face yet the corner of his eyes remained red from his weeping. 

"Yuuta's pretty gutsy going against the wishes of three clans, especially when he doesn't even have a claim on you. Then again, he has his big name and high status to gamble on," Satoru stated with a small shrug. "There's so little to gamble on, anyway. Noritoshi didn't stand a chance and neither did that Zenin brat Naoya."

"Yes, all according to plan, just like you said," Kazuya said with a wave of his hand. "I believe I owe you an apology, my dearest little sister." 

"Did I hear you right? You… you just said Satoru nii-san planned this?"

"Well, not the whole fiasco with the Zenin," the silver-haired man replied. "But yes… I orchestrated the meeting between you and Yuuta. Only because your brother begged me—"

Your brother quickly elbowed his friend. "I asked Satoru to find you a suitable match, one that didn't require you to leave home or sacrifice yourself to a lifetime of unhappiness."

"But—"

"Satoru told me that your first meeting sparked a need within you both, or at least that's how he understood the situation. After all, he said that Okkotsu-san was absolutely bewitched by your presence." 

Yuuta immediately turned red at the very pointed truth your brother had just told you. 

"So you didn't know about this, Yuuta?"

He shook his head at you, a hint of defeat evident in his smile. "Not at all. Though I suppose sensei knew how to use my very weakness to his advantage…"

"Pretty girls with pretty smiles," Satoru stated with another cheeky grin. "But once he sets his eyes on someone, that's the end of the game."

"Did Yo-chan know about this… plan of yours?"

"No, it was just me and Satoru," Kazuya stated as he shook his head. "Though knowing how much that old man adores you, he might have had an inkling… More importantly, you and I have something to talk about. If you'll excuse us for a while, gentlemen…"

Your brother offered his elbow to you which you gladly took, slipping your hands to grip his arm as he led you to where your father and Yohan stood in the middle of your estate's garden. As Yuuta eyed your retreating figure, Satoru clamped a hand on his pupil's shoulder.

"You can always start wanting things again, Yuuta. Her death was beyond your control. None of what happened to her was ever your fault," the older man said. It was a truth so plain and simple yet something Yuuta had such a hard time believing. 

Rika died of an illness, one that plagued her since childhood. Her dreams of becoming a sorcerer by his side were nipped in the bud, for Yuuta wouldn't allow her to die a sorcerer's death, which was such an undignified death… She died a human, her heart full of love and gratitude for those who loved her and cared for her in her final days. 

And the last thing Rika bade him do was to live a life of happiness, because that's what he would have wanted her to do if he were in her position.

How could I have forgotten that? Yuuta shook his head and simply smiled to himself upon remembering.   

"There is a girl who wears her heart on her sleeve who has fallen in love for the very first time in her life," Satoru patted his pupil's back. "What you can control now is how things will move forward from here." 

"I know, sensei. I guess I just feel a little… apprehensive," Yuuta chuckled rather nervously. "I mean, you said it yourself, I went against the agreement of three sorcerer clans and entangled myself with the Koganei Clan's precious daughter— even though I'm just a nobody." 

"A nobody?" His teacher laughed at the incredulous statement that left his lips. "You're Okkotsu Yuuta, one of this generation's finest Special Grade sorcerers. The Koganei should be more than grateful to welcome you into their fold. And if their old man gives you shit, which I doubt he will given how spineless he actually is, you're just going to have to remind him who's protecting his house."

"I-I wouldn't go that far, sensei…"

"Only if he gives you shit."

"I hope he doesn't…" Yuuta muttered to himself. "I-I'll work hard to earn his approval. A-And I'll cherish Otome, so…"

From across the garden, you eyed the anxious smile that lit Yuuta's face as he spoke to his teacher. About what, you'll never truly know. All you know for certain now is that things are about to change in your family's way of life, especially with how they regard you. 

"I'm an old man. I can't keep up with all of this. And after all that's happened, I have enough reason to believe that our family's faith in me has been shaken," Seito stated with a slight raise of his hand. "It's good that you've made your preparations to inherit, Kazuya. I feel… No, I believe that you're better equipped to lead our clan in these ever-changing times…"

Your father admitting his ineptitude came as a surprise to you, but not so much to your brother, who simply nodded in agreement.  

"And what are your plans now, Otome?" Your father asked you, the edge in his voice gone and replaced with genuine concern for your future. "That binding vow you made with that young sorcerer will tie you to him for the rest of your life. Are you ready for that kind of commitment?"

"O-Of course! I-If it's with Yuuta, I'd be more than happy to!" You said, suddenly conscious about the heat rising to your face. "I… I want to get to know him more. And if he'll let me, he and I w-will have all the time in the world to…"

From where he stood, Yuuta could see just how flustered you were while the older men simply chuckled at your enthusiastic response. He knew that you meant well, too. That you would nothing more than for his heart to be safe next to yours, too.

~ ten months later.

Your marriage to Yuuta was conducted in the shadow of your older brother's inheritance ceremony. It was an even more private traditional ceremony that officially welcomed him into the Koganei Clan. Your marriage still took place despite all the apprehension he felt, but not much changed afterwards. Neither of you wore any wedding bands and he never took your name— and you didn't mind that at all since none of those formalities mattered to you, anyway. All that mattered to you was that he would come home to you at the end of every day. While his mandated work from Jujutsu Headquarters still took precedence over clan duties, he still proved to be a capable enforcer when called upon by Kazuya. 

Yuuta owed much to his brother-in-law, after all, especially since he vouched for his merits so he could marry you without so much of a hitch. 

Still, there was more to your brother's relationship with your husband than they let you in on, even more so when Kazuya started persuading you to return to your work in the entertainment industry. 

"No one wants to see a married idol, nii-san," you joked to him, but the look in his eyes was serious. "Do you… actually want me to start working again?"

"Why not? If you can't be an idol anymore, I'm sure there's a demand for you somewhere else. In fact, why don't you ask that smart manager of yours?" He told you from across his office table as he browsed through his usual paperwork. 

"Nii-san, we've arrived," came a most familiar voice from outside his den. 

"Perfect. Come in, Yuuta. I believe you have a surprise for my sister," Kazuya stated as he set down the documents he was reading. As the shoji slid open, you were elated to see your husband come home from running errands for your brother, but an even larger smile lit your face when you saw the person who entered right after him. 

"Sa-chan!"

"Oh! Otome! It does my heart good to see you well!" Sana happily exclaimed as she returned your embrace. "And I'm even more excited to see you return to work!"

"B-But who told you that? I…"

"I… did," Yuuta stated. "I'm sorry for being so presumptuous, but I… can see how much you miss your work every time you watch TV or check out your socials. You should know that I don't want to stop you from what you love. I know how passionate you are about your craft, s-so I—"

"I told Yuuta to get in touch with Kagomura-san," Kazuya finished his sentence. "You should be doing something you love rather than just languishing here at home, Otome."

"R-Right he is, Otome! Oh, Kyou-san will be thrilled to have you back at Mieux Folie, but not as an idol anymore. In fact, when Okkotsu-san reached out to me, the agency was mulling over who to give this certain movie role to, so it's like fate!" Sana squeezed your hands in sheer excitement over the possibility of signing you back in the agency as— "It's your acting debut!"

"And you're okay with this, n-nii-san?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" Kazuya answered your question. "I'm not like our old man. I actually see value in your talent as an entertainer."

"Really?" You quirked an eyebrow at his statement. 

"Of course I do," he stated with a thoughtful hand on his chin. "If you become an actress, you'll be invited to all sorts of events and occasions. Maybe you can tell a friend or two that you have an equally good-looking older brother—"

"All right, Sa-chan. Let's do it," You squeezed her hands back with a newfound exhilaration. "I'll sign back on with Mieux Folie, but only if you promise to be my manager." 

"As if I'd say no to that!" Sana stated with a smile on her face. "You know, Otome, Okkotsu-san is a pretty generous husband. Other husbands would want their actress wives to give up their careers to focus on their families instead, but he's here pushing you to pursue your dreams."

"Isn't that thoughtful of him?" You gave your manager a cheeky grin. "I suppose earning a little pocket money before we try for a baby is a great idea."

"O-Otome!" Came Yuuta's nervous interjection. "P-Please don't neglect to tell me if you're feeling strange or under the weather. I wouldn't want anything to happen to you without us knowing if you're actually pregnant…"

His concerns were eased when you took his hand this time and lifted it to your face. Just as your hearts were tied together by your marriage, your souls were tied together by something far greater. "Believe me, sweetheart. You'll know."

~ one year later.

"Is this thing on?"

You spoke into the screen of your mobile phone as you sat on the cushy couch in your spacious living room. After having starred in Onodera Noah's directorial debut film "Ever I Wander", which kickstarted your work as an actress this time around, you and Yuuta moved out of your family's estate to a condominium unit in the city. Your job as an actress demanded much of your time, but always made it a point to reserve days for rest with your husband, who was distant from the living room yet visible onscreen as you went live on your preferred SNS account.

[ Aaaaaa ]

[ It's Otome-san!!! ]

[ I can't believe you're going on live today! ]

[ What a great morning! ]

[ ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ ]

[ wwww such a blessed day!! ]

[ Good morning, Otome-san! ]

[ … ]

[ … ]

Numerous comments and reactions from your adoring fans and followers flashed and rained on your screen as you confirmed that you were indeed livestreaming at the moment. 

"Hello, everyone! I hope you're having a lovely day so far!" You waved to your screen with your megawatt smile. "I'm just hopping on here to give everyone a big thanks for supporting Noah-san's work, 'Ever I Wander', and of course for supporting me in my first-ever acting role as Hinarin." 

[ ❤️❤️❤️ ]

[ You did such a great job with Hinarin!! ]

[ ❤️ ]

"I'm so glad everyone loved the film. Noah-san and I have been good friends for quite a while now and I can attest to his dedication to his craft and the calibre of his work. I'm certain he's still on a high after the film's release. 'Ever I Wander' is such a profound piece of media that tackles so many relevant themes of our time, so please recommend it to your family and friends!" 

Yuuta approached you with a bowl of freshly cut fruit, careful not to appear onscreen but many eagle-eyed viewers saw his arm enter the frame. 

[ Is that your husband??? ]

[ Wow I can tell from his arm that he works out!! ]

[ ❤️❤️ ]

[ … ]

[ He has such a mysterious aura… ]

[ But didn't he accompany her on the film's premiere? ]

[ ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ ]

"Yes, that was my husband. He just handed me a bowl of my favourite fruits. Isn't he just the sweetest?" You couldn't help but gush and beam as you happily showed off the fresh and juicy fruit slices neatly arranged in the bowl. "His job requires him to work out a lot and I suppose it shows even though it isn't his intention to brag about his build. All the better to lift me, I guess!"

[ 😂😂😂 ]

[ 😂 ]

[ He must be the strongest soldier wwwww ]

[ 😂😂😂 ]

[ Can you please show us the photo on your background? ]

"The photo on my background…" You repeated the comment before eventually turning around to point at what the viewer mentioned. "Aha! Another one of Noah-san's works! This was from my last photobook after I retired from my idol work two years ago."

[ It's so risque 😳 ]

[ The theme is kinda sexy?? ]

[ 😳😳😳 ]

[ ❤️❤️ ]

The blown-up photo was one of you and Yuuta, a memento Noah sent you as a wedding gift. Just as he said before, you were the focal point of that photoshoot and Yuuta was just a mere framing device. With his back turned from the camera, he was an alluring mystery that gave the photo an even more charming appeal to the viewer. 

"Noah-san really knows how to make magic, doesn't he? My husband and I were so surprised to receive it, but we figured it had to be displayed somewhere…"

[ Your husband is sooo lucky!! ]

[ I say Otome-san is lucky with her husband he's hot wwwww ]

[ ❤️❤️❤️ ]

[ Will you ever show us your husband?? ]

[ ❤️❤️ ]

[ Let's respect their privacy ]

"You're right. My husband and I like things the way they are and I don't want to spook him by asking him to come on cam with me. He's actually very shy… But I suppose that's what makes him so charming."

Yuuta chuckled at your remark, just enough for your viewers to hear. Your screen erupted with hearts and even more reactions when he reached out to ruffle your hair. 

"He is my home, and I'm so happy that my heart is always safe next to his."

Your coffee table vibrated as your work phone lit up with a call from your manager Sana. You picked it up. "Hello, Sa-chan?… Oh, right! Of course, how could I forget?"

You turned to your ongoing livestream once more and gave your viewers another smile and a kind bow. "I'll have to cut our conversation short because I have some work to do! Thank you all again so much for your support for 'Ever I Wander', and for me in general! Please stay safe and let's talk again soon!" 

[ Livestream ended ]

"I'll drive you," Yuuta stated as he grabbed his black jacket on the couch. "Send me the details on LINE."

"Oh, sweetheart, you don't have to! I know it's your day off and all and you should be resting…" You told him as you fixed your setup and dismantled your little tripod. 

"And miss out on seeing you on the job again? You know it's always my pleasure to be at your beck and call," He said with a small laugh. "Plus, I want to make sure you get there safe."

"You're right. What better way to ensure my safety than by driving me there yourself?" You replied to him before planting a tender kiss on his cheek. "Thank you, baby!"

What was once his duty became his very pleasure— standing right next to you as you both pursued your dreams, your hearts safe and content right next to each other.