#sick of the messaging that it should revolve around them

[thursdayg1rl]

why did they have to make the summer I turned pretty into a show. it’s ruined my life and I have no plans of even watching

[froggyfics]

The Deadliest Poisons Are The Sweetest - 5

Your wedding day arrives.

Note: (09/15/23) PLEASE READ THE PREVIOUS CHAPTER. If you have read this series before this date, please note that I have combined chapters 1 and 2 together. This may seem confusing, but I have decided that as a creative approach, I would like the chapters to be longer. Therefore, the original chapter 4 is now chapter 3. Chapter 4 is new. This chapter and beyond are up to date.

Btw y'all it's gonna get saucy in the next chapter lmao

Feedback is always appreciated. Feel free to message me privately or comment below to let me know what you think. Constructive criticism is always welcome!

Word Count: 4,844

This is the closest you’ve been with him in weeks. The intimacy of the moment is warped however, with underlying feelings of inadequacy. 

This is your wedding day. Yet, you feel as though you are imposter. You can feel the red-hot glares of the jealous maidens in the crowd. After all, you are marrying the most eligible bachelor in the entire realm. If only they knew that you felt sick to your stomach, and you wished that they were in your place. 

You don’t even look him in the eyes. You stare at his mouth, as if you needed to do so in order to understand the vows.

“I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will love you and honor you all the days of my life.”

No, you won’t, you say to yourself. You led me to believe that we could be more, but you tricked me! 

He places a ring on your finger. Your hand suddenly feels like it’s weighed down by a ton of bricks. You nearly choke on your vows as they stumble out of you. When you arrived in Gotham a month ago, you were admittedly excited for this day. However, Damian’s icy demeanor as of late has left you bitter. How could it be possible to be so close with someone one day, and then completely cold the next. It befuddled you. Damianbefuddled you. 

Your vows were sealed with a chaste kiss. Cheers and whoops erupted from the crowd. Through the noise, you could distinctly hear your father’s booming claps and mother’s animated laughs. Of course they were happy! Their daughter was married off – to a prince no less. Your marriage ensured a lifetime of stability and wealth for them. Not bad for a baron and baroness. 

You wobble to the great hall for the wedding banquet with Damian’s hand clasped in your own. It wasn’t your choice to make physical contact – he was the one that initiated.

“Weddings are the end of their lives as they know it. The beginning of a prison sentence. The end of youth.”

This is an act. You must admit, if acting was a respectable career choice, Damian would be a top-notch performer. The vows meant nothing. The kiss was expected. The hand holding was necessary for the performance. 

You sat right next to your husband. Aristocrats, both strangers and now familiar faces, approach to wish glad tidings upon you and Damian. You accept their kind words as politely as you can. All the while, you twist your ring, round and round, underneath the table. 

You light up when Rachel approaches the table. A genuine smile finally crosses your face.

“Lady Rachel!” you call out excitedly. 

You jump when you feel Damian’s presence near your ear.

“How do you know of Lady Rachel?” he asks.

You gape at him while Rachel curtsies shyly. His question is not shocking – you chalk it up to mere curiosity. It’s the fact that he’s talking…to you! Willingly. And the conversation does not revolve around simple greetings or pleasantries. 

You can’t even answer him. Anger bubbles inside of you. He almost completely ignores you for four weeks and now suddenly acts like you should be receptive to his conversation. You have half a mind to ignore him in favor of speaking to Rachel. However, the ring sits heavy on your finger, and you suddenly remember your place. 

He is now your husband. He is the heir to the throne. If there is anyone you should hold your tongue towards, it’s him. 

“We met one week ago,” you reply. Rachel beams at you while you recount how you met her. 

“We’ve only become closer and closer, day by day.” You hold your hand towards her, and she takes it affectionately. 

“The princess is right,” Rachel adds. “It is almost like we have known each other our entire lives.”

Damian speaks only after he gulps his entire drink quickly. “Well, wife,” he emphasizes when he grabs your hand, “I am glad you have made a friend in Gotham.”

He smiles menacingly. You can tell by the way his lips unnaturally stretch over his teeth and the reddening of his face. 

Rachel glances at your conjoined hands and clears her throat. “Well, I just wanted to say that I wish for the two of you to be happy.” She raises her cup and you raise yours with your other hand in support.

“To the happy couple,” she concludes. The edge of the cup reaches her lips, but she does not drink. She instead curtsies once more and disappears among the crowd of people.

As soon as she leaves, Damian releases your hand, wiping his palm on his pants as if you were a leper. You clench your teeth so hard that they squeak in retaliation. You manage to take deep breaths to calm yourself – in and out, in and out, in and out. It’s truly an act for him. 

Everyone looks to be so happy. Not for you, of course not. They are happy for their own selfish reasons. Guests are fed the most delicious food and drink that the realm has to offer. Your parents rub elbows with highly ranked aristocrats. Your siblings dance merrily along the aisles. King R’as laughs heartedly a few seats away from Damian while speaking to his friends. Even Talia seems to be in a cheerful mood, scarfing down her food. 

Perhaps you can attempt to be happy, too. It is your wedding day after all. You inhale deeply to gather confidence.

“Husband.”

Damian doesn’t acknowledge you.

You clear your throat and repeat yourself once more.

He doesn’t even look up from his plate.

“Damain!” you half-shout.

His head shoots up immediately. “Yes, wife?”

You want to punch him in the throat. His polite tone seems genuine, but it sounds fake to your ears. 

“Are you…” You scan the great hall. “Are you enjoying the festivities?”

He nods his head slowly like he has trouble understanding your question. “Quite.” He returns to his plate.

You growl, but say no more. After all, there is no point making a concerted effort at conversation now when you apparently have the rest of your life to do so. You might as well take what little enjoyment you have now and ignore the glaring loneliness that dwells within you. 

The wedding took place at noon, but the reception continues well past sunset. You did not even know that there existed so much food in the entire city. Drinks flowed like a river all night long. Some people fell asleep in their seats, despite the rambunctious behaviors of others. Some people danced and danced until you thought their feet would fall off. 

You remain glued to your seat nearly the entire reception. There were a few moments where you stretched your feet, such as when the guests stacked cakes on top one another, so that you and Damian could kiss over them. You managed to peck each other’s lips without the cakes collapsing to the ground, which made the audience break out into cheers. After all, if the cakes fell, it symbolized bad luck for your marriage. 

As if you needed any more of that already. 

The reception seemed like it would never end. Your posture slowly deteriorated over the hours, until you were slumped in your chair. Muscle aches began to surface for sitting for so long. You wanted the night to be over. 

“Damian!” R’as called.

Damian pushes the table to make room to get up. He travels just a few feet farther to his grandfather who whispers something in his ear. Whatever was said made Damian stiffen and glance at you.

You suddenly develop that prickly feeling when you feel like someone is talking about you. Damian’s glance made you certain that you were the subject of their conversation. The realization made you shift in your seat. You decide to study the wooden table to distract yourself from your insecurity. 

A tap on your shoulder breaks your concentration. You find Damian looking down at you with a stoic expression. As usual, you can never determine what he’s thinking.

“Follow me,” he bluntly says. 

He doesn’t move an inch and you don’t realize until a few moments later that he expects you to get up first. You push yourself from the table and slowly stand up. You’ve been sitting for so long that your knees crack upon straightening. 

Damian maneuvers you so that you remain in front of him. He’s mere inches behind you and his hands fix themselves to your waist. He pushes you forward, directing you towards the door. 

The once lively room suddenly quiets down, until cheers are erupted once more.

You peer behind you to see that nearly everyone is looking directly at you. Men are jeering, throwing their hands in the air. Your father kisses your mother’s forehead while she blows a kiss towards you. Women are clapping obnoxiously. You face forward once again in mortification when you realize that they are cheering for your consummation. Everyone knows that you are walking out the hall a virgin – only to become a true wife by tomorrow. 

You look back again, scanning the crowd for Rachel. She has been one of the few sources of support you’ve had as of late. You just want to look at her, to search for comfort in her eyes. You find her violet eyes eventually, only for your humiliation to turn into sadness. Her eyes do not necessarily brim with tears, but they are certainly glossy. 

You give her a comforting smile as the door to the hall opens. 

Don’t be sad for me, you want to say to her, but the door of the hall closes before your message can be relayed through your eyes. 

Damian continues pushing you from behind through the castle. You are eventually brought to an all-too familiar, yet unfamiliar room. 

It certainly has changed since you were in here last, all those years ago. Damian’s room still exudes extravagance, worthy of an heir. However, small details have changed.

There are several arms-related items laying around. A full armor suit sits at the corner of the room. Several weapons – swords, axes, morning stars – are hung on the walls. Papers are strewn across the room. They’re on his desk and dresser and end tables. Most importantly, the room feels larger than it did when you were a child. Well, that was probably due to the fact that you felt smaller now than you did then. 

The door behind you slams shut. You jump in surprise at the loud noise and see Damian leaning on the door.

You hate it. You hate that you feel so nervous. It’s all too much. This room brings back happy memories that you cannot – should not – dredge up in fear of living in the past. You stand in a room, alone, for the first with someone known as your husband. Someone who is actually a stranger to you still. You can’t help but look down. It may be due to submission or shyness; you’re not entirely sure. All you know is that your girlhood has officially ended, and adulthood is crashing upon you.

You see his shoes from your peripheral. He stands toe-to-toe with you. You can’t bear to look him in the face. No good could come from falling for those green eyes. 

He cautiously raises his hands to your waist. You grow numb as he removes your belt. Your dress puffs out into a shapeless blob. 

He grabs your shoulder and turns you around, your back facing him. You can feel your dress loosening as he undoes your corset, one string at a time. Your breathing quickens at the intimacy of the act. You’ve had maybe two decent conversations with this man, and now, he has full access to your body. The discomfort makes you twitch.

“Raise your arms,” he commands. And you listen. He reaches down to hem of your dress, and pulls upward. You become blind momentarily until your dress is fully removed, and all that remains is your paltry smock. You feel overexposed. Your shoulders, arms, and legs are bare. Bare! You instinctively cover yourself the best you can with your arms, but Damian, while still behind you, firmly grabs your forearms to place them at your side. You gasp when he places a quick kiss on the back of your head.

You remain stuck in place despite hearing the crumpling of clothes behind you and await for Damian to direct you. There’s a creak, and several more creaks, and the crinkling of sheets.

“Come.”

You turn around and are met with a shirtless Damian, already beneath the sheets. He pats the unoccupied space next to him, and you follow his orders. You slink underneath the sheets and lay flat on your back, burning holes into the ceiling. The only sounds that could be heard is your breathing and the crackle of the fireplace. 

You await for his orders once more. And wait. And wait. And wait some more, even as he slips completely underneath the sheets completely. From your peripheral vision, you can see that he turns his back towards you. You bite your lips nervously and you dare lift your arm up in an attempt to touch him.

“Good night.”

His words make your arm drop back down onto the mattress. The finality of his words make you close your eyes. There is nothing to do, nothing to expect. He is an actor, and you are at the whim of his play.

The extinguished fire from the fireplace doesn’t wake you. Neither does the blearing sun peeking from behind the curtains. What does wake you are the stomps of your ladies-in-waiting. 

Your eyelids instantly open, the crust that developed during the night making it difficult at first. 

“Princess, it is time to wake,” Matilda says in a voice that it all too loud this early in the morning. She wretches the curtains open and sunlight streams in. You hiss at the light, still walking the line between unconsciousness and alertness.

Joan grabs your shoulders and heaves you into a sitting position. In a militaristic approach, Joan, Matilda, and Honora perform your morning routine. You’ve had a month to adjust to their “help”, but it has only become slightly easier to tolerate their grubby hands and rude shoves. You can only say – Ouch! – so many times until you realize they do not care if they cause you pain. You are a job for them. They may be your household staff, but they are certainly still Talia’s minions. 

The hubbub of the morning almost makes you forget where you are and what had happened the night before. You glance at the spot Damian was sleeping just a few hours prior. In his place is the outline of his body on the mattress.

“Where has my husband gone?” You wince when Joan tugs your hair particularly hard while brushing it. 

“You have been summoned by Lady Talia.”

It hangs in the air, but you don’t expect them to answer your original question. It’s the nature of your relationship with them. It only reminds you to formally add Rachel to your household staff. Perhaps an ally in the mornings would improve your days. 

You’re prodded and shoved and squeezed until you are dressed. A green and black gown once again. An emblem of the house that you married into. You are no longer a daughter of a baron – you are now a princess of the House Al Ghul.

You’re led to Talia’s room within the castle. A guard stands upright outside her door, and opens it for you and your brood. Within, you find your now mother-in-law with a table full of assorted small plates. Fruits, cheeses, bread. Your stomach grumbles in hunger, but you doubt you’ll be able to enjoy your meal. Not with Talia. 

“Lady Talia,” you politely greet. 

She waves you over without looking up. As you approach her, she finally glances at you, but now before grunting in disapproval.

She is now your mother-in-law. You must remain polite. You repeat the mantra to yourself several times as you become situated in the seat across from her. Your ladies-in-waiting stand off the side, along with Talia’s servants.

A moment passes. Then two. Then several. Talia says nothing and continues to eat. You recognize that she will not speak to you first, and that you must initiate the conversation. You desperately want to your roll your eyes, but you remember your mantra. 

“Ahem, Lady Talia,” you start. “I have heard that you summoned me. Might I ask why?”

She sharply glares at you. “Do I need a reason to call upon you? After all, you are now my daughter.”

“Of course not.” You smile as sweetly as you can while simultaneously wanting to burst. You stomach rumbles again to remind you that it is empty, so you swiftly gather some items to make your plate full. 

“Will Damian be joining us for this –”

“No,” Talia interjects. 

“Oh.” Silence befalls the room except for the occasional chewing of food. “Is it possible for my mother to come join us? She will be leaving –”

“No. Is my presence not satisfactory to you?”

“Of course it is, Lady Talia,” you grit. She feigns a smile at you, and her eyes sparkle.

She knows that she’s irking you. She loves it.

“Are you close with Lady Rachel of House Azarath?” you inquire. The best use of your time here with Talia is to at least introduce the idea of Rachel as an additional lady-in-waiting. 

Talia sips her tea generously before answering. “Yes, she used to be quite close to my son.”

“Well, her and I have only recently met, but we have become incredibly close. She honestly feels like a sister to me –”

“You’re talking about Lady Rachel?” 

You gulp and shakingly nod your head. “Yes, I am. Erm – like I was saying, she has become a true friend. Since my family will return to my birthplace soon, and I have left behind my childhood friends, I was thinking about having Lady Rachel join my household staff. As a lady-in-waiting.”

Talia stares blankly at you, her green eyes burrowing into your soul. Her façade soon begins to break as her lips twitch and her eyes crinkles. Soon, she releases out a howling cackle. She laughs and laughs, holding her stomach to support herself. 

Joan, Matilda, Honora, and the remaining servants in the room look to one another curiously before they begin to laugh as well. Their laughs start as awkward chuckles until they are bellowing to match their master.

You sit in utter disbelief at the situation unfurling in front of you. There’s a joke hidden in Talia’s laugh, but you remain oblivious to it.

“Oh, oh, my.” Talia wipes a tear from the corner of her eye. “Why, yes, of course! Lady Rachel is free to join your household staff.”

Your face is red with embarrassment as the laughs finally die down. You’re not sure what the joke was, and you so desperately want to know. 

The food no longer looks appetizing to you. The measly few bites you had appease your stomach for the time being. Desperate for the attention to be off of you, the course of the conversation is redirected.

“Erm – thank you, Lady Talia. Say, how did you enjoy the festivities yesterday?”

“Ahem, yes, it was fine.” Her joyful tone suddenly reverts to its malicious nature. “I presume you enjoyed your wedding night, especially. How very lucky you are to bed a prince when you are…” She points in your general direction. “Well, when you are…you.”

A forced chuckle exits your mouth. Never have you ever met someone as blatantly, yet simultaneously subtly, rude. It dawns on you that her status allows her to speak however she wants, and that social graces are only for those inferior to her. 

“I am eternally grateful that Prince Damian chose me to be his wife.”

She waves your pleasantry off. “Yes, yes. After all, he chose you out of…every maiden. I am certain you will do your duties as a wife to ensure his happiness. As long as you bear him heirs, I suppose that is all I can ask for.”

The conversation feels unpleasant to you. After all, shouldn’t your marital relations with Damian be kept between you and him? Admittedly, you’re not sure whether you should alert Talia to the fact that you did notbed Damian last night. Sure, you slept in the same bed, but you are certain that is not what she cares about.

The question that she was dancing around finally is brought to the forefront. “Last night was…successful, correct?”

Your hunger has not yet returned, but you abruptly feel the urge to stuff food into your mouth to avoid answering her. 

“Mmhm.” 

She leans in dangerously close. She remains across the table, but it seems like she will pounce on you if you dare utter one wrong word.

“Did you bed Damian?”

You breathe in deeply, having had enough of the intrusion. “Lady Talia, I feel as though my relations with your son –”

“This is a yes or no question, dear,” she seethes. “Did you or did not do your duty as the wife of Prince Damian?” She slowly stands as she asks you her question, her anger palpable. 

“Does it matter?” you counter. “Why is that any of your business?”

“So, you did not bed him.”

You eye twitches in annoyance. “Lady Talia, I did not say that.”

“You don’t have to.” She slams her hands on the table, shaking it. You jump in surprise and grab hold onto the arms of the seat. The other women in the room hold their breath in frightened anticipation. 

“What was the point then? What was it?” She places her hands on her waist and circles you. “There were so many others – richer, prettier, friendlier. Some of them he grew up with. Why you if he doesn’t even want to bed you?”

You remain glued to your seat. Talia looks down at you with rage in her eyes, while you look back with confusion. You don’t know how to answer her question, because ultimately, you’re unsure of the answers yourself. If she had asked you a month prior when you first arrived in Gotham, you probably could have answered that you and Damian shared a sweet encounter from many years past, and that encounter led to your marriage. However, with Damian’s aloofness, you also are uncertain as to why you were chosen to be his bride.

Talia groans in frustration at your muteness. She stomps towards the door, but not before a servant rushes over to open it for her. You watch as she disappears into the hallway, presumably to confront Damian. 

You let out a shaky breath that you didn’t know you were holding. 

“Take me back to my quarters,” you order your ladies-in-waiting. “And send for Lady Rachel.”

You pace back and forth in your room, practically burning a hole into the floor. A loud knock disrupts your fervent strides, and in comes your rescuer, Rachel.

“Rachel,” you whimper as your nearly run into her open arms.

Her arms wrap around you tightly, like how a snake suffocates its victims, except her hug was full of love instead.

You’re shaken up by your encounter with Talia, but the culmination of the previous 24 hours bears down upon you. You sink to the floor, Rachel helplessly attempting to lift you back to your feet, but the energy is no longer within you.

“Everything is wrong.”

“What is?” Rachel finally sinks to the floor next to you, holding your head to her bosom, holding you like a mother would do to console her child. 

“Everything. This cursed family has brought me nothing but misery. I will be miserable until the end of my days, I fear.”

Rachel gently quiets you and strokes your hair. “No, that will not happen. I will not allow that to happen.”

“It will!” you exclaim. “Damian hates me!”

“He does not hate you.”

“Yes, he does!” Embarrassment sinks into your bones when Rachel asks you to explain.

“Last night was a disaster,” you murmur into her chest.

Rachel stops stroking your head momentarily. “Hmm? How so?” She starts once more playing with your hair.

“I am…still a virgin.”

She pulls your head backwards so that her eyes meet yours. “Do you mean…he has not bedded you yet?”

You cringe in embarrassment. Her shock has only solidified your insecurity – something must be wrong with you. That’s the only explanation! 

“No, no, darling,” Rachel clucks. “Do not hide your face from me. It is not your fault – hey – look at me. It. Is. Not. Your. Fault.”

“Then, what is wrong?” You swiftly get to your feet and resume your pacing. “If not me, then what? It’s silly to think that there is another issue at play here.”

Rachel grabs hold of your shoulders and firmly shakes you. “Listen to yourself! You sound mad.” She looks around the room as if it isn’t empty and leans in close to whisper. “Understand that there may be other factors at play. The emotions of man can certainly affect his…libido. Take it from me, I should know.” 

She releases her grip, but remains planted in front of your face. “I have had…prior relations.”

You nod at her wide-eyed. This is the first you’ve heard of Rachel speaking about her romantic life. 

“Certain emotions can make it hard for a man to perform his husbandly duties. I do not think it wise to push the issue, as to not cause any embarrassment for him.”

You nod your head emphatically, whole-heartedly internalizing her speech. “But – what if he doesn’t bed me tonight either? Lady Talia is already speaking about heirs.”

“Again, do not push the issue. You would rather not face Damian’s wrath.”

A singular, harsh knock interrupts your discussion. In stomps in the subject of the conversation, the man of the hour, your lifeline and your ruin – Damian.

Rachel immediately curtsies out of respect and lowers her head. He opens his mouth to speak, but is seemingly stunned by the presence of another human in your room. He looks back and forth between you and Rachel.

“Husband,” you greet.

The sound of your voice brings Damian back from his trance. He nods his head towards the door and several servants, including your ladies-in-waiting, pile into the room.

“Wife,” he starts. He strides over to you and plants a kiss on your forehead. His lips leave a burning sensation on you, as his sudden display of affection jars you. “Pack your essentials. We leave soon for my father’s.”

“Damian,” you whisper. His face reveals his agitation: his lips are stretched into a scowl and his forehead wrinkles deeply. “Is everything alright?”

His palm reaches to your face, his thumb stroking your cheek. You want to believe he does it lovingly, but your heart can’t take that risk. 

“You should have called upon me,” he murmurs. “As soon as my mother disrespected you, you should have come to me.”

You look down in shame. So, he’s heard of your interaction with Talia earlier that day. “I did not think that was an option. I did not even know where you were.”

He lifts your head up with his index finger on your chin. He bends as best as he could to meet you at eye-level. “Of course, that is an option. You are my wife.”

You swallow hard. The way he’s looking at you, and comforting you – it’s too much. It’s too sudden. You shimmy your way out of his grasp and look to Rachel for support, only to find her back facing towards you and Damian.

“Lady Rachel has been consoling me.”

Damian stiffens and his jaw tightens. “Thank you, Lady Rachel,” he starts. He looks over his shoulder her, and she does so too ever so slightly. Neither face each other completely, however. “You may now take your leave.”

Rachel nods her head and without turning to say goodbye to you, she starts heading towards the door.

“Wait, no!” you call out. You circle around Damian to reach Rachel’s arm. “Lady Rachel is to be my lady-in-waiting. She must remain by my side.”

Damian’s eyes bulge out of his head. “Your lady-in-waiting?” he repeats brashly. 

You huff in irritation. You’re not sure why everyone seems to be so astonished that you want Rachel to be a part of your household staff. “Yes,” you reply. 

Damian clicks his tongue in disapproval. The amorous façade he performed just moments prior is now gone. It’s been replaced with the real Damian – the stoic one. 

“Fine.” He pushes back you to reach the exit before stopping by the door. He doesn’t even turn around. “Remember, just the essentials. 

[masterjedilenawrites]

Rest

Kix x reader | 1.3k words

Content: hurt/comfort, light angst, fluff, caretaker's fatigue

Inspiration (from @rosemarynightmares): Someone should also tell Kix that always putting others first and neglecting his own needs is not what being a good, compassionate person is about, and that he's worth it.

To say Kix's feet were dragging on his way home was an understatement. He was one last braincell away from just dropping down on all fours and crawling the rest of the way. The med bay had been a revolving door of clones all day; injured, sick, drunk... and that was just the official problems. Off the record, he'd helped Tup study for a test, gave Fives some dating advice, and had even entertained a handful of young cadets lost on a field trip until Rex finally came to collect them.

He wasn't sure how he was still functioning as his heavy steps climbed the stairs up to the little home he shared with you. He paused at the door, keys hanging in the lock while he composed himself. He hadn't had time to message you earlier about how your day was going, though he'd meant to several times, even getting as far as having half the message typed out before inevitably getting pulled away before he could finish and hit send. You could've had a bad day yourself and he wouldn't know until he opened the door. He'd need to pull himself together to be prepared to help you in whatever way you might need this evening.

The door creaked open, an annoying reminder that he still hadn't found the time to fix that hinge since it first started acting up a month ago. The lights inside were off and the air held a sort of smoky sweetness to it. He guessed you'd lit a candle earlier, which would be a sign you were in a good mood if true. He couldn't hear you, but a brighter light glowed around the bedroom door to show evidence of your existence beyond.

That bought him some time. He could clean up a bit in the refresher first, maybe grab a bite to eat before going to see you. He decided to start in the kitchen, shuffling straight for the fridge and flinching at the light as he opened it in search of something of sustenance.

He didn't need to rummage for long to find a healthy snack, a fact he was ever-grateful for. The way you kept this home stocked, clean, and cheerful was one of many things that made him fall for you over and over again. Your love was in the details. He'd probably tear up right now if he wasn't so gosh darn tired.

No sooner had he stood, intending to heat up the little box of leftovers, than did he feel a pair of arms snake around his middle from behind. He didn't even have the energy to jump in surprise. He hadn't heard you come into the kitchen, he hadn't noticed the pool of light that now spilled from the bedroom door just a short distance away.

"Kix," you cooed against his back, pressing yourself to him as you always did.

He swallowed. He hadn't wanted you to see him like this. Not yet.

"Kitten," he replied, trying to strengthen his voice but not managing more than a breathless whisper.

Your arms immediately recoiled, choosing instead to grip his waist and turn him to face you.

"What's wrong?" You peered at him, eyes scrunched in the pale light of the fridge that still lay open beside you.

"Nothing. Missed you." Now he tried a reassuring smile. It took a lot of effort but he felt his features falling into place, and it almost worked. You almost backed off, almost let him get away with it.

But you knew him too well.

"Kix." Now your tone was sad. Pitying. He wanted to shake his head at you, tell you not to worry about him. But he couldn't quite get the words out. So you pressed on. "You were supposed to be home hours ago, what happened?"

"Nothing happened," he sighed and then caught himself upon your expectant look. He sighed again, hanging his head. "Everything happened."

The feeling of your hands rubbing the sides of his arms gave him that last bit of energy to properly share his day with you. From the mess of paperwork he walked into that morning to the back-to-back surgeries he'd volunteered for in the absence of the base's chief doctor. In his mind, he was justifying his efforts, merely listing out details of an otherwise ordinarily busy day.

"Sometimes I prefer the battlefield to the base," he ended his story with a breathy chuckle. He moved to shut the refrigerator door but your hands gripped his shoulders, preventing him from turning away.

"This is the fifth day in a row you've exhausted yourself." If he didn't know any better, he'd say you were chastising him now.

He scoffed. "I'm fine..."

"Kix," you insisted. "You have to take it easy. This isn't healthy."

He couldn't help but furrow his brows at that. "What am I supposed to do? This is my job. Someone comes in to get patched up, I can't turn my back."

"Fives talking your ear off about his date is patching someone up?" you challenged.

"He was nervous. I've never seen him off his game like that. I think this girl might be the one for him."

"He has plenty of brothers to get advice from."

"But he came to me."

"And you're allowed to say no."

"I can't."

There were tears in his eyes. He wasn't sure where they came from. He forced himself to turn and shut that damn fridge door already, plunging the kitchen back into darkness. It reminded him how tired he was, how badly he wanted to close his eyes. But at least now you wouldn't see how watery those eyes were right now.

You'd stepped closer to him. His eyes adjusted to the faint light from the moon coming from the small kitchen window behind you. It obscured your features, only highlighting the outline of your form as it drew close, but he knew what expression would be on your face now. He knew all the ways your face looked, like the back of his own hand.

"There's different ways to say no," you said softly. Your hands were now wrapping back around his torso, hugging him toward you. "It doesn't always have to mean you don't care, or that you won't help. Sometimes it just means you have some boundaries. Or that there's a better time than right now. You can't always put yourself second, Kix. You'll run yourself into the ground and then you can't help anyone. You deserve to take care of yourself, too."

You said the last part as you turned your face into his chest, pressing against him just a little firmer as if adding punctuation to your statement. He sighed, relented. The box of leftovers he was still clutching was promptly set onto the counter, and then he brought his arms around to rest onto you. He didn't have the strength to hold you back as tightly.

"If you say so," was all he could think to say.

You pulled back slightly, your breath ghosting along his neck. "And I'll keep saying it until you believe it, mister."

He made what was supposed to be a laugh, but came out more as an awkward huff. You finally left his arms all the way, grabbing one of his hands and beginning to tug in the direction of the bedroom.

"Come, lay down and I'll heat your food up. And then I'm calling out sick for you so you can relax tomorrow."

He followed you, no strength left to protest, and was soon laying on his side of the bed with your gentle hands tucking a blanket around him. You hurried off to get his food, but his eyes were already losing focus. He drifted off to sleep with your words settling into his mind.

He deserved this.

~ ~ ~

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[troius]

Six Hearts vs. Fullbringers: Chad vs. Jackie

So, one of these fights should probably address that there were more than just one perpetrator and victim to this whole scheme, right?

Something that gets lost when the Soul Reapers show up is the idea that the core betrayal here involved anybody besides Ichigo and Ginjo. Sure, Jackie’s fight with Renji winds up having some slightly redemptive aspects to it, but they get swallowed by Renji’s unfortunate attitude during that fight, as well as the fact that Jackie hasn’t actually done anything to him.

But Chad’s a different story! He was the first person Xcution targeted in their scheme to entrap Ichigo, a scheme that worked, which had to make him feel very used, even before Tsukishima stuck fake memories in his head and made him fight Ichigo. So if Chad gets to throw down here instead of being hastily written off, he’s going to have some deep feelings of betrayal towards the Fullbringers. And nobody, I think, will provoke these strong feelings like Jackie.

Because she doesn’t really have any excuses! She’s not a child like Yukio, or a teenager like Riruka, she’s a grown woman. She’s also not a sick, evil person like Giriko who just enjoys hurting others. And she doesn’t have Ginjo’s personal grudge against Soul Society twisting logic to justify her actions. She was the sane one of Xcution, and yet she still went along with their scheme, seemingly out of loyalty to Ginjo for picking her out of a rough place in her life.

And the funny thing is...that’s how Chad feels about Ichigo. They were that person for one another, back in middle school. But theirs was a relationship of equals, and together they developed strong, independent centers of morality that Jackie doesn’t seem to have. It’s easy to miss in all the Tsukishima nonsense, but Chad fights his best friend, for what he believes is moral principle!

So this fight becomes about Chad conveying that principle to somebody who he feels greatly hurt him, but who he also still has some positive emotions towards-- Jackie was easily the most welcoming member of Xcution to him and Ichigo, and I imagine Chad probably feels a connection with her foreign background as well. Chad’s not going to be shy about defending himself, but he’s not going to want to kill her.

Which is where the drama in the fight comes in, because the offensive half of Chad’s powers is “La Muerte”, which would probably be literal if he used it on Jackie-- I doubt she has Arrancar-level durability. The fight would revolve around him trying to win without using it, which would put them on a more even playing field.

I’m torn on how Chad wins-- using La Muerte on just Jackie’s fullbring would put her in the same place as canon, without her powers, but sort of seems to send the wrong message for me. He might just have to win with a straight, non-powered left hook, set up by a switch to using his right arm defensively instead of offensively. But where the fight as a whole ends would be right after that, where Chad extends that same hand with an open palm, giving Jackie a chance for redemption that actually feels earned, because she’s had to confront the things she did and the person she did them to.

[diaphanous-autumn]

It’s been a long time...

...since my last post. I don’t even know if anyone’s still following this project. So many years without a word from my side. Too much stuff happened in my life and I needed some time for myself VERY badly.

I’ll write the reasons down under the cut, but list the TW beforehand. Please understand that these are no excuse for my disappearance but an explanation. I wish I had done things way different than I did.

TW: mental illnes, medication, therapy

TW: death of family member(s)

The reasons for my abrupt silence were:

1. I’ve been dealing with bipolar disorder that got out of hand. My medication wasn’t helping at that time and my therapist changed too frequently so I couldn’t settle in. We don’t have many good therapists and most of them don’t want new patients, so I had to go to the local speciality hospital to get semi-treated. There my therapist in charge changed almost monthly. I hated it. During that time, I tried to use my problems as fuel for my game. But depression withheld me from doing process. Only during my mania I was able to do some stuff and even then I got heavily distracted and completed other stuff. I couldn’t continue this way.

2. In the last few years I lost two very important and pillars of my life. My dear grandmother died shortly after my last post. My grief is long-lasting and it took even longer to understand that everyone grieves in their own way and that there is no timetable or guide how to grieve. The worst thing was: my father was affected by it most. He loved his mother even though there were rocky roads in their relationship. And I guess that grieve inside him was eating him up inside. I wish I would have been there for him during that hard time. 3 years ago I lost my father. He was only 51 years old. This was very hard to grasp for me. I couldn’t understand or accept it, but that’s what it is. His birthday is nearing and I still keep on thinking of him. I recently was able to get back to stuff I did before with him. Playing games I associate with him or listen to specific songs... The problem was: I did associate Ciel Nocturne on a very personal level with him. I didn’t bear to look at it and it made me sick.

3. Work took over most of my lifetime. Before starting the game and halfway through I had no job anymore. I started an apprenticeship and after 2 years of it I had to quit because I got sick too often. Shortly after I started another one that I had to quit after 1 year due to grieve and you guessed it- sickness. Depression made it hard to even get out of bed and that lead to stress and heavy migraine attacks. I felt worthless.

4. The ongoing drama inside the community wasn’t good for my mental health. I took things too personal and I didn’t want to be part of a toxic community. I got some very weird messages throughout development and my game got described as “some game where you play a girl that heteroes up a mansion with some white-haired guy” What? It made me unnecessarily angry and I took it personal because in the end, most stuff I put into the game storywise was my life experience!

5. Adding to the community trouble, I’m still very much pissed that my game got decrypted and my stuff used for own purposes. Someone stole my voice sound files and used them in their game. My scripts got ripped. Images from CN were still in the thieves’ game folder. Was this really something I could put myself through?

I had so much time to think about the game, the story and everything revolving around it. I decided I’ll start anew, I would love to rewrite the story a bit and come back with a completed game someday. I won’t post progress here and I learnt that I should make this thing in my own pace, without people or even myself pressuring me.

So... if you read all of this, thank you so much. This means a lot to me.

I’m really sorry for keeping up the silence until now. I hope I can reach some people with my game. So this might be my last post until I’ll release it, I guess.

Thank you.

[guerrilla-operator]

You:

Told me you would move back to the northeast from Nashville after several months, then stayed there because the position you wanted wasn’t offering that spot in NYC. Fine, it happens.

Ignore me constantly as a result of that job for days to weeks to sometimes close to a month because it’s “too demanding.” The communication breakdown was a revolving issue that would get repaired slightly and then almost immediately break apart. You would tell me you would call or talk to me at some point, but most times it would just be me waiting up to hear from you and getting nothing.

Come home in the summer of 2021 but push spending time with me until the end of your trip, to the point where a storm screws up the trains and we wind up spending zero time with one another.

Never wished me a happy birthday a single time when we were a thing, despite me sending you gifts and making a big deal for yours. The one time I did bring it up to you, you attempted to gaslight me into believing that you did (which did not work), then had a full on meltdown on the phone in a London airport.

Told me you got me gifts that I mysteriously never received despite you saying you were going to send them to me (the wrong address thing can only work once I guess). This is despite me sending you gifts that I put thought into and flowers several times a year, just to impress you.

Never bothered to check in on me when I had COVID, despite me checking in daily when you had it for the second time (first time I had no idea what was going on because you stopped answering me because you were in the hospital, but that’s at least acceptable). The only time you even checked in with me during those two weeks was at the tail end of it, and it was to tell me that you were moving to Seattle instead of back to the northeast.

Sprung the Seattle move on me, without me even knowing this was an option. At least remaining in Nashville was a known possibility at the time, this wasn’t. Then when I didn’t take that well, you dropped a “you don’t make plans to visit me” bit. How could I if you don’t answer your fucking phone? I don’t make enough money to just fuck off and take a flight to see someone with the possibility of having those plans fall through.

Got back with apparently a true piece of shit ex after the airport meltdown who almost immediately went back to manipulating you for months and attempted to force you to marry him in Vegas, all the while I was unaware of everything and anything that was going on with us to the point where I was probably suicidal because I thought I had been ghosted by a woman I loved. Apparently I meant that little to you that he was apparently the better option. And yet I still welcomed you back with open arms.

Only spoke to me about medical updates and legal updates after you got sick. I can’t remember a time you told me you loved me besides when you ended things crying on the phone, nor asked how I was doing just to talk. It was always about both of those things and I had to reckon with the fact that the woman I loved could die. I kept hanging on because I figured things would improve, because THAT’S WHAT YOU DO. You ended it and I had to accept that, even though most of these issues would have been avoided had you decided to come back to the northeast.

Were very likely messing around with a dude who was practically conjoined to your hip during a good chunk of this time! You would go on trips together, threw a party for him, hell he even moved out to Seattle! I had suspicions, even having an anon drop a weird message to me years ago, but doing some snooping pretty much sealed the deal. Trying to pass it off as a “joke” is wild. I’m not laughing.

I’m only airing this out here because I will need a constant reminder as to why I should not reach out, nor answer you if you try to do the same. You said you “were done with being the villain” the last time we spoke, but it’s quite apparent you’ll always be that for me now.

Almost three years of my life wasted on you. Never getting the time of day from me again.

[ajwinter-is-a-nerd]

Deadman's Stand In

A Given Fan Fiction

Okay, so I have been extremely sick this week and watched Given and read the manga and have not yet recovered from the intense level of angst I feel from this show. So I wrote a fanfiction to help me deal with some of my unresolved feelings.

Summary:

Post anime, within the final chapters of the Manga.

Uenoyama deals with the fact that he doesn’t feel like his own person. His friendships and relationship currently revolve around him being a shadow of who Yuki used to be.

This FF focuses on Uneoyama's hurt that I didn't feel were acknowledged enough. The feelings of inadequacy, of being second strung, and just so fucking hurt that you can’t figure out what to do because the person you love won’t talk to you and… who do you have left?

Charcoal clouds covered the night sky, their dull grey reflected in glacier blue eyes. If he stared intently enough, perhaps he’d see the reminiscent twinkle of a far off star. 

His forlorn sigh fogged up the glass before him. With a click of his tongue he let out a wry laugh. The irony of the ghost-like image was not lost on his train of thoughts. Blowing on the glass, he enlarged the opaquing white. 

Before he wrote his message onto glass, his phone started buzzing once again. Dejected, he decided he should finally answer it. 

“Dude, are you okay?” Haruki forever played the role of band mother. 

“I was just about to head to bed. Why?” Uenoyama forced his throat to swallow the growl that was clawing at the surface.

“This new song… it… are you and Mafuyu… okay?” 

Uenoyama knew that the first line of worry would be the band. It was his and Mafuyu’s promise going into it, of course. They knew there would be problems, but they’d get through them together. Or, so he thought.

The reality, though, is everytime Uenoyama struggles, with himself or in the relationship, Mafuyu pulls away. He doesn’t know where to turn to, who to talk to. All of his friends are Mafuyu’s friends now too, and they might be even worse, at times.

“We’re the same as last week.” Uenoyama squeaked his finger through the lingering blur of white. “As far as I know, at least.” 

“I’m just saying… this song… it’s, it’s amazing!” 

Uenoyama could practically see Haruki frantically waving his hands, as if his own words had lit a fire before his face.

“Were you and Akihiko able to layer your parts then?” Uenoyama assumed that they would organize it together. They basically lived and breathed each other, Uenoyama doubted Haruki even hit play before sharing an earbud with his boyfriend. It must be nice to be connected to someone like that. 

“Oh, uh, Akihiko is working on his part right now… but it’s… do you think Mafuyu will want to sing to this beat? Isn’t it usually, um, backwards? From how you guys usually do it? Has he started his la-la-la’s and udon noo-oodles yet?” 

“It can be a demo or an extra track. I don’t… I don’t really want him to know about this one, okay?” Uenoyama clenched his eyes shut, the reality blinding. “At least not until it’s done.”

“NO! You two aren’t breaking up are you? What happened?! I told you this would happen! Ugh what were we thinking?” His voice trailed to a muffled mumble.

“We’re the same as last week, I already told you.” Uenoyama breathed against the window pane to reanimate his colouring board. 

“You both seem off…” 

“Are you coming to my show?” Uenoyama diverted courses. He didn’t want to talk about his relationship anymore. A part of him hoped he could actually just discuss music with Haruki, but nothing’s ever quite that easy. 

“Yeah, of course.” There was a distant sadness that carried through the phone. 

“Is Mafuyu coming with you?” Uenoyama cursed his chest for the sudden spike in his heart rate.

He always held onto the hope that Mafuyu would come, would take initiative to mend what keeps falling into oblivion. 

“Oh, I - uh - I don’t know?”

But he never does.

“Wouldn’t you know, Uenoyama?”

Because as much as Mafuyu sees fragments of his reflection. 

“Hello?”

Uenoyama can never be Yuki.

-

Tears dotted the page as he focused on the missing pieces. Of course Hiiragi would ask him to finish the song. He has the one piece that the others don’t. 

He’s writing about the man he loves.

From the inspiration of a lost soul. 

Uenoyama might have been able to say no, but he didn’t want to risk losing this gig. In reality, probably the only reason they brought him on was because of his relationship with Mafuyu. They’ve told him between jokes and sets how much he reminds them of Yuki.

So he keeps his head down. And he keeps writing. It’s not hard to see what Yuki saw in him. His sparkling eyes that soak in the world around him. So fragile yet so insurmountable at the same time. He just wishes that the first time he brought these words to paper, they could really be played from his heart. 

Instead they go through the filter of what Yuki would have thought. How he would have sang. 

Uenoyama spent countless hours researching the man and the music. 

Mafuyu only ever looks at Uenoyama like that when he plays guitar.

Those must be the moments he’s most reminded of Yuki.

-

No matter the season, the sun basks through the windows, warming the platform of the stairs. Uenoyama collapses towards the surface, his body starting to fail him. His brain is fogged, his movements languid, even his breath is raspy. 

The crashing descent from his knees to his hips, to his chest, is barely noticed as his body lingers in the first stage of sleep.

His brain has been on overdrive, writing Yuki’s love song. Part of him hopes that Mafuyu will hear it and finally see Uenoyama through the shards. But that doubt fuelled the rhythm of the song in Haruki’s possession. 

In all likelihood, it was the blend of writing, waiting, and unyielding loneliness that created the concoction of his exhausted state. Not the added half an hour cramming for the test that he’d told himself it was.

As his mind fell deeper into sleep, he could hear Mafuyu’s laugh. Uenoyama squinted to make out the words that started to leave his lips. The sentence was distorted, but the message was clear. ‘I love you’. 

Uenoyama woke in a jolt of sweat, his breath whistling out of his throat. 

“Are you okay?” The voice was as distorted as his vision as tears fell without regard, while his chest heaved in rhythm. “Uenoyama? R-Ritsuka?”

Mayfuyu’s voice sliced through the delirium. 

Uenoyama assumed he must still be dreaming. Sobbing, he dropped his forehead to the ground, and let the pain fall through him. Down to his very toes. Everything hurt.

A gentle hand stroked his hair, but it didn’t stop the pain. Somehow, the realization that this was reality, only made the pain worse.

Is love always this lonely? 

-

I walk the path paved for someone else

Echoes 

Of adoration and laughter

Beloved by all 

Echoes of scars

Against my skin 

Echoes of lips

Stained by tears 

I live as a dead man’s stand in 

“Wh-what is this?” Mafuyu looked up from his phone screen. 

Uenoyama’s brow furrowed as he looked up at his boyfriend then back to Haruki, who’s face set ablaze.

“What?” Uenoyama’s back straightened, as if he already knew the answer. He was carefully setting his guitar beside him, preparing for a fight, a cry, or simply to escape.

“I’m sorry, I - oh no.” Haruki’s voice turned to gravel as he muffled his lips into the palm of his hand.

“Is this… is this how you feel, Uenoyama?” Mafuyu’s eyes teared, his fingers trembled around his phone. 

“I- I’m so sorry!” Uenoyama collapsed to his knees, but Mafuyu was already leaving.

Whenever Mafuyu left it felt as if his heart was being torn out of his chest. But how can you lose someone you never truly had?

-

The spotlights burned his skin as the crowd roared. He prayed that Mafuyu was there. Maybe then he’d understand. He poured his soul into Yuki’s song. For Mafuyu could have his goodbye… so that Mafuyu could have another moment with the one he loved.

Sweat beaded down Uenoyama’s brow as his heart lit aflame. Nothing else mattered. At this moment, on stage, he let out every sour emotion and fragment of dread to burn under the stage lights.

-

Mafuyu ran backstage, headed directly to Uenoyama who slouched happily in his seat. Before Uenoyama could react to the rehead’s presence, Mafuyu gripped the man’s collar in his fist and yelled a proclamation towards him. “I want to sing! And make music with you!”

Uenoyama’s heart pounded in his ears. Did this mean he forgave him? Or was it a shadow of feelings left lingered from Yuki’s song?

“For the rest of my life!” Mafuyu added, the words louder than the amps had been during Uenoyama’s show. 

“Huh?” Uenoyama was lost for words. The battle of mediocrity played in his head as Mafuyu stared into him. Was he honestly seeing him? 

“I promise.” Mafuyu’s grip continued to twist at Uenoyama’s black shirt.

“Sorry… come again?” Uenoyama stammered; he couldn’t comprehend the reasoning behind Mafuyu’s actions. Was he forgiving Uenoyama? Was he apologizing for the distance? Why can’t anything just be clear?!

“I will never let you regret it!” 

The collar on Uenoyama’s shirt threatened to strangle him.

Mafuyu’s eyes were intense, his chest heaving while he kept his face inches from Uenoyama’s. 

“Hold it right there!” Hiiragi screamed. “You… what do you think you’re doing in someone’s dressing room dropping - like - a proposal?” 

Uenoyama met Mafuyu’s weeping eyes. For once, he truly believed, they only saw him. 

“You came.” Uenoyama ignored Hiiragi, speaking to Mafuyu with soft words. His hands worked of their own accord, reaching out for Mafuyu.

“Of course, of course I did.” Tears ran freely as Mafuyu held Uenoyama’s hand against his flushed cheek. 

Biting his own lip, Uenoyama struggled with his own emotional eruption. Mafuyu rarely ever cried off stage. Yet…

“Thank you.” Uenoyama whispered, brushing kisses against shuddering lips as he pulled Mafuyu onto his lap.

“Why? Why did you do that to yourself? Why’d you finish Yuki’s song?” Mafuyu’s voice was hoarse as he fired questions between kisses.

“Because he would have wanted you to hear it.” Uenoyama’s floodgate broke. His tears flowed without regard while his thumb caressed those of his partners.

“You… you…” Mafuyu stammered, drowning under his own tears.

Concerned glacier eyes sparkled under crystal lakes towards Mafuyu, who offered a half smirk in return. He couldn’t respond, instead, the redhead wrapped his legs around Uenoyama as they pushed their foreheads together.

Salty tears of heartache, forgiveness, and understanding.

Tears that belonged to just them. 

[scamperin-shroom]

I'm going to go in depth here about boundaries and such real quick, never and I mean NEVER come to me venting about your life please. I will most likely block you. A conversation as a friend is different, but if I don't know you, it's a no. Honestly you should never do this to anyone and here's why

Last year, I had a follower who sent me a message venting to me about their life since my art used to revolve more around depression (this is because I was actually struggling really bad with it and drawing was my outlet/comfort). Being vulnerable and the type of person who wanted to help, I fell for their trap and did what I could to be there for them. This led to us becoming "friends" and eventually led to them inviting me into a group chat which seemed safe and good for me because, yay, new people. However, instead of being a nice, relaxing get to know people place, the chat became a mass of venting that was all super triggering and upsetting to read, and it was constant. This person had us worried sick, and mind you, most of the people in this chat were minors not including myself (this person was 19 at the time too which was even more sus). If we didn't respond, we'd get yelled at. It was bad to the point where I had panic attacks every other night. We even told them not to talk about certain topics, but they still would and the most annoying thing was that we only had to remember theirs or else. Eventually, things went downhill, and "trusting me" they sent me images of their self harm cuts which caused me to break down (again, I had depression and they knew). I left the chat after that and have had them blocked since. I pray to God they never find me here or it's on sight. I remember them mentioning they had a Tumblr, but hopefully it was something I made up in my head. It was traumatizing and scary. They harassed all of us

So... Think before you vent. Not just for the safety of someone else but even yourself too

This person was also a Mother fan which is why I have very little trust in this fandom, sadly. They scarred me from Masked Man forever because they'd go in gruesome detail about their headcanons for him and how they kinned him. It was awful. Mother 1 too... Just, don't. People who glamorize depression and toxicity in this fandom, I don't like you

[boymeetsme]

posting this here where no one will ever see it because i want to get it out but not i do not feel like being vulnerable with ppl irl rn lol:

my middle school bestie got married, and it’s such a strange and happy feeling to not be jealous or angry. i feel that way with everyone else, even if i met them senior year of high school. i think it’s an insecurity or something. maybe i wish i had been cooler or more loved by these people so their weddings feel like personal snubs. the world does not revolve around me, but sometimes my emotions make me feel like it does.

so it’s weird to me that this wedding, for a middle school bestie who i lost contact with but picked up again in high school, with a childishly toxic history that should make me 10x more angry and jealous, even though i wasn’t even able to go to the wedding, makes me so happy. i am so, so happy. and i feel even happier when i try to pick apart that emotion and find nothing bad to taint it.

i first met her girlfriend at a little house party where the objective was to get high and drunk and play beer pong in the garage. i was nervous to the point of shaking because i always am, but more so because i was going to someone’s house who i had never met before to meet a couple dozen other people i had never met before, and finally reunite with a girl i who had a million qualified reasons to not like me. her girlfriend, without question or pause, hugged me like i was already a friend. i got high and properly tipsy for the first time that night, then did a bunch of other toxic stuff later (driving under the influence, messaging a guy i shouldn’t have, etc), but everything in the garage was so good.

at the time, i still held the belief that homosexuality was a sin and i should love the sinner, hate the sin. i considered what i’d do if they got married and how i’d turn down a wedding invitation. another red flag on top of many. then i accidentally outed them to one of their families and started a whole thing. more red flags. but somehow…it ended up alright? through no help of mine, obviously, but they got an apartment together and a cat and somehow i still kept getting invitations to come hang out and meet more of their friends. they bought me food and booze and took care of me when i got too high and thought i needed to go to the hospital. they moved, i got married, and then i moved just a few yards away from where they live. i walk out my door every morning and chance a sleepy “hello” with my best friends. even though the man i married is the best, most loveliest anti-social hermit, they invite him and tease him and feed him and treat him like they treated me so kindly in the beginning.

months ago, her girlfriend came over to show me the engagement ring she would be proposing with. with a cinematic view of mountains and lush forest around them, they got engaged. in a more fair world, i would’ve been at the wedding. tons of other people would have been at the wedding. i know the situation behind why that couldn’t be, and i just feel bad they had to go through it. i can’t imagine having to beg my parents to be at my wedding. i hope they never have to beg for support like that again. anyways.

my middle school turned adult best friend sent me the link to the pictures this morning. no school because one instructor is sick and i have online exams in the others, so i slept in as long as possible. i’m still in bed right now typing this. i went through every picture, them glowing like fairies in white dresses and my grimy reflection peering back in the darker photos. i don’t feel one drop of anger or jealousy. i just can’t stop looking at how beautiful they are together. they used to be so unhappy separately. i don’t know first hand for one, but i do for the other. she was self-conscious and self-loathing. now she looks like a fucking model and i honestly want to be jealous but i can’t because she’s so happy!!! there is more happiness in one of her smiles now than i saw in all the years prior combined. i want to keep seeing them smile.

someday they might move away to the mountains they love more than this honestly disgusting city. i know they’ll hate being away from friends and family who stay when they go. part of me wants to pack up with them and move to the closest house to theirs so we’ll always be neighbors, but i don’t know where my husband and i’s cards will fall. i just hope until the time comes and they go, i keep getting to be a part of their happiness. i love them so much!!!

[our-time-is-now]

September 4, 2019 (1): There’s really a lot that has changed

(previous play)

You can find more information about the authors, translators, content warning and additional information about the plays in the pinned post on our blog.

Wednesday, 10:17 am:

David: *lately he has been thinking about Patrick, their friendship and their past after he has talked about him with Matteo and also his therapist, and for the first time in a long time, he opens their chat history on WhatsApp*

WhatsApp, David/Patrick:

Patrick, 10.09.2017, 17:03: Hey David, did you understand Math? Somehow I don’t get it right now? Can I come over so that you can save me again?

Patrick, 12.09.2017, 07:34: Did you oversleep? Are you sick? Should I excuse you?

Patrick, 12.09.2017, 08:45: Are you avoiding me? Or why do you always take the earlier bus now?

Patrick, 17.09.2017, 14:58: David, please let’s talk. We can’t just ignore each other from now on for the rest of the time we’re at school…

Patrick, 22.10.2017, 07:10: I wish you a very Happy Birthday! I hope all your dreams come true. (If you want to, then please reach out)

Patrick, 22.10.2018, 15:45: Happy Birthday, David!

*sighs quietly when he reads Patrick’s last message and can’t stop the memories flooding back from that point in time when he somehow couldn’t do this any longer, when he deliberately decided to avoid Patrick from now on after he kept ignoring the teasing at school more and more* *there wasn’t really anything special that happened, nothing that he hasn’t gone through one way or the other several times already: Two of his fellow students used the occasion when one of his teachers had finally addressed him by the right name to stop him after the class and to make fun of him. There was a group of students, more and more people got involved and commented - and he finally saw Patrick, who was standing some distance away with two other fellow students and who had looked at him with pity and sympathy* *he knew exactly that they would once again pretend that it never happened the next time they met - at first they used to talk about it and Patrick told him that he shouldn’t pay any mind to what other people say, that eventually they’d stop and that it wasn’t important what they thought, and that it would instead be important that he can live the way he wants to - but eventually everything that could be said had been said, eventually the incidents weren’t commented on any longer and the conversations between them only revolved around school or their hobbies* *he realized more and more how much it hurt him that Patrick didn’t get involved at school, that he didn’t have his back, so after another bad incident at school he withdrew more and more even in the afternoons after school, closed up more and more even with Patrick and it got hard to be as unburdened in his presence the way it used to be - until this one day when it simply got too much* *now in hindsight, he thinks that he should have talked about it with him, told him that he could no longer stand the fact that Patrick didn’t have his back at school, but back then he didn’t really want to demand of him that he also has to face the mockery and teasing of the others* *still doesn’t really know how they could have resolved that problem back then - maybe Matteo was right and Patrick really had his own problems that he didn’t know about - maybe he was in over his head with the situation? Maybe he really wasn’t brave enough and maybe he himself should have had more understanding if they had been more open with each other… Maybe they would have been able to find a solution if they had really talked about how they both felt* *wonders if - after two years of radio silence - there’s any use in mentioning the topic, if Patrick is even still interested in getting in contact with him, but then also has to think about the time before it got difficult and about how close they were until that point - how well Patrick was able to deal with his coming-out at first* *tries to mentally formulate what he could text him while staring at the open chat history, but realizes that what he wanted to tell him would simply be too much* *finally pulls himself together and just starts texting*

WhatsApp, David/Patrick:

David, 04.09.2019, 10:23: Hey…

Patrick, 04.09.10:24: Oh… hi!

Patrick: Everything okay?

David: Yes, it is… well mostly. But lately, I had to think about you more often and I thought… no idea… maybe we could talk one day - well, if you want to.

Patrick: You mean about back then? Well not back then, back then, but back then as in 1 to 2 years ago?

David: Exactly… About the time when it got difficult between us…

Patrick: We already should have talked about it back then…

David: That’s also what I’ve been thinking about over the last few days. But somehow we didn’t really manage to back then.

Patrick: I wanted to do so several times, but somehow I didn’t dare… well in this respect… yes, I’d like to… let’s talk…

David: Umm? But not over WhatsApp, right? ;-)

Patrick: No, better not - too much typing… ;-)

David: Maybe we could meet up one day? Well, when I’m in Lychen or Fürstenberg…

Patrick: I moved to Berlin last weekend. I’ll start studying game design here in October, but my side job starts on September 15… I already considered reaching out to you once I knew that I got the spot at uni and that I’ll move, but I didn’t know if that was okay… are you still in Berlin?

David: Wow, it’s nice that you got a spot at university! I’m really happy for you! And does your side job also have something to do with game design? I’m still in Berlin, yes…

Patrick: Yes, the job is at a developer company… I don’t exactly know what my tasks will be like yet…

David: Testing computer games all the time?

Patrick: Then this would be an absolute dream job…

Patrick: And what about you? Are you doing better? What are you up to nowadays? Are you going to stay in Berlin?

David: I’m doing an indescribably lot better, yes! And I’ll stay in Berlin. I was accepted to uni to study filmmaking and I’ll also start in October.

Patrick: An indescribably lot better sounds awesome! I’m really happy for you, David! And filmmaking! So we both somehow really managed to fulfill our dreams…

David: Definitely… who would have thought!? ;-) But if you live in Berlin now, then it’s really even easier that we meet up one day to talk about the past… well, if that’s okay.

Patrick: Yes, sure… I just first have to see how things will be here with my side job and so on… but once I’ve settled a little then I’d really love to.

David: Sure, get settled first. We have time…

Patrick: But maybe you want to talk on the phone some time?

David: Now?

Patrick: Umm, yes… if you like…

David: Okay…

*takes a deep breath and realizes that he’s suddenly a little nervous to talk to Patrick again* *briefly puts his phone aside and shakes out his hands before wiping them on his pants* *but then already sees his phone vibrate, takes another deep breath and picks up the call*

David: Hey…

Patrick: Hey na… feels somehow weird, doesn’t it? Well, but a good weird, you know what I mean…

David: *has to smile automatically when he hears Patrick’s voice, but is still a little nervous* *laughs quietly when he says that it feels weird* Yes… I know… good weird, but weird… it’s been a long time… *doesn’t really know what he’s supposed to say and therefore tries to do smalltalk* Umm… and were you already able to settle a little?! Unpacked everything? Or are you still surrounded by boxes? *takes a look around their room and is glad that they are already finished with it*

Patrick: *has to smile automatically when he hears David’s voice* Wow… *laughs slightly and talks without thinking* Your voice sounds really deep… *only then hears David’s questions* Umm… yeah, settled a little and no, I haven’t unpacked everything… I’ve only just moved, after all… and what about you? Where in Berlin do you live? Still with your sister?

David: *quietly laughs again when Patrick says that his voice sounds really deep and is pretty happy to hear that* *barely notices the changes himself, but thinks that it’s probably more obvious if you haven’t seen or talked to someone in a while* Testo makes that possible… *then nods at his answer and murmurs* Right, you’ve only been here for a few days… *then exhales when Patrick asks how he lives and slightly laughs again* Yes… yes and no… well I do… it’s a little complicated. My sister and I were forced to move out of our apartment short-notice because the building is derelict and it was impossible to find something new so quickly, and now we’re temporarily living at my boyfriend’s flatshare. So yeah, I still live with Laura but also with Matteo, Hans and Linn… *grins slightly* Also only since last weekend, by the way…

Patrick: *laughs slightly when David says that testo makes it possible* Yeeah, this miraculous stuff… *then listens to him and perks his ears when he says that he has a boyfriend* *realizes how happy he is for David and that he really always wished for David to be okay* *but is also curious, of course* Hang on, hang on… which of those is your boyfriend? Matteo or Hans or Linn? *also grins, which can probably heard in the tone of his voice* But that sounds really great, David, I’m really happy for you!

David: *grins slightly when Patrick kind of interrupts him and laughs when he also lists Linn* Are there really guys with the name Linn!? *calms down again and then clarifies* Well Linn is a girl… *then gets somehow embarrassed because he never would have thought that he would ever be able to tell Patrick that he has a boyfriend, but then tells him* And Matteo is my boyfriend… Hans is also gay, but… no… *has to grin again because he could never imagine being with Hans* *then smiles when Patrick says that he’s happy for him and murmurs quietly and still a little embarrassed* Thanks… *slightly presses his lips together and then murmurs more serious* There’s really a lot that has changed… I think going to Berlin was the best decision of my life…

Patrick: *laughs slightly* No, no idea, that was supposed to be funny… *then smiles when he hears how David’s voice changes when he talks about Matteo* Matteo, huh… David and Matteo… sounds good I have to say. *then hears his last sentence and feels a slight lump in his throat* That really sounds like a jackpot, David, and you deserve it so much… *takes a deep breath* Do you like to tell me a little about it? How is it? Your life? And your boyfriend? Have you been together for long? What kinds of friends do you have? What are Linn and Hans like? Or am I too nosy? *then stops himself* Sorry, that was too much, right? But I’m just really so happy to hear from you…

David: *smiles very broadly when Patrick repeats Matteo’s name and says that “David and Matteo” sounds good* *has never really thought about it until Kay has mentioned it at Lambda, but has to somehow agree with it* *then suddenly feels a small lump in his throat when Patrick is so happy for him again and when he tells him that he deserves this life here and is suddenly a little overwhelmed because Patrick has been a part of his life for so long but hasn’t really been there for the last part of it* *then hears all of his questions and feels the lump getting a little bigger* *quickly clears his throat when he hears his last question and shakes his head* *swallows twice and then says with a slightly husky voice* It’s okay… no… it wasn’t too much… I… *quickly takes a deep breath and then laughs quietly* I’m just not used to it… and I’m also happy to hear from you… and I also want to know everything about you… everything that I missed, okay? *takes another deep breath and rubs his free hand over the back of his neck* *briefly wonders if before that, they shouldn’t talk about the things that are standing between them, after all, but then starts talking, anyways* Okay… where do I start? It’s really a lot… Okay… well I did my Abi… which is somehow obvious, because otherwise I wouldn’t have gotten into university… Hmmm… I met Matteo at school… a few months ago… well, we’ve been together for about four months now… *laughs quietly* Although most of the time it seems much longer to me… and my friends… well they’re people from school… *briefly gnaws on his bottom lip and laughs a little embarrassed* It’s a little difficult to sum all this up in a few sentences…

Patrick: *listens to him with interest* *but can also hear the insecurity in his voice and that he hesitates* *briefly closes his eyes when David doesn’t really tell him much and when he appeases him a little at the end* *thinks that it’s really weird to talk like that if there’s actually something standing between them* That sounds good… but… *clears his throat* ...maybe we really should meet first and… talk about everything? *waits for a moment* It’s somehow weird like this, isn’t it?

David: *briefly presses his lips together when he hears Patrick’s “but” and then smiles slightly at the suggestion that follows* *humms in agreement and thinks about how to explain best why it’s weird for him* *then laughs quietly and a little insecurely when Patrick says exactly this, but says in relief* Yes… somehow it is… I’m sorry… *shakes his head a little and explains* Well… it’s somehow weird to tell you all of this… and at the same time it’s weird that you weren’t around for any of it… because in the past you somehow really were around for everything. But… *takes a deep breath* There’s also a lot that happened… between us… or didn’t happen… *realizes that he’s starting to stammer a little and therefore stops* *instead says* Maybe we really should talk about the past first before we… *doesn’t really want to hope or expect them to get along just as well as they used to and therefore changes the rest of his sentence* Well then the rest will be easier for us… or for me… *briefly presses his lips together and then asks quietly and a little insecurely* So do we want to set a date to meet? Or do you first want to see when it’ll suit you? With your side job and everything…?

Patrick: *shakes his head, which David can’t see* You don’t have to apologize… it’s okay, I get it… *swallows slightly and feels the good, old, well-known guilty conscience toward David* *has to think about what his girlfriend has said when he told her about it, that he has learned from it and that now he’s treating friends completely differently and that now he’s absolutely loyal and open* *thinks that David would also have deserved that back then and that he can give him that at least now and that he can do it in a way that’s the most pleasant for David* Yes, I think you’re right… we should talk first and then we’ll see… *is happy that David still wants to meet* Yes, let’s set a date… well I still need some time to get everything sorted and so on, and with my side job, well, I should always be able to meet on Sundays… maybe on Sunday in two weeks or so?

David: *smiles slightly when Patrick says that he gets it and when he agrees to meet* *then grimaces slightly when he automatically glances at the calendar when he hears his suggestion, but doesn’t really need it because he knows straight away that on Sunday in two weeks, he’ll definitely still be at the hospital* Umm… no, sorry… I can’t on that day… *thinks that the Sunday after that will probably still be bad timing because he can’t tell how quickly he’ll recover from the surgery and therefore adds quickly* ...and it doesn’t really suit me on the one after that, either… *then shakes his head a little because he doesn’t want Patrick to think that he doesn’t want to meet only because he declines his suggestions and adds* But apart from those days I’d really be happy to meet on a Sunday… only those two dates… they don’t really work for me… but maybe the one after that? On the 29th? *clears his throat and says a little insecurely* Okay, that’s still some time away… no idea if you can already say anything about it or if we’d better text again before that?

Patrick: *hears him decline and is a little disappointed* *but also knows that sometimes you just already have plans on weekends, especially when you’re in a relationship* *has to chuckle a little when David reaffirms that he wants to meet* *thinks that he can make it easy for him* Yes, sure, we’ll just text again… maybe you’ll just see what the mood is like and if you have time and want to on a Sunday, then you’ll just let me know?

David: *nods at Patrick’s suggestion and says* That sounds good! I will! *then smiles slightly and adds quietly* I definitely want to… *laughs quietly* ...and I’m a little scared… but… *gets serious again and takes a deep breath* But I think it’ll be good if we talk… right? *he at least had the impression that Patrick needs to talk and also thinks that a lot has to be cleared up and now hopes that they’ll somehow be able to manage to get closer again by putting the old stuff behind them*

Patrick: *also laughs slightly* I also want to… *but then hears that he’s scared and has to swallow* *but finds it good that he’s honest* I’m also scared to be honest… *swallows again* But I also hope so… *clears his throat* Well, then, say hi to your boyfriend from a stranger and then we’ll just text again, okay?

David: *smiles slightly when Patrick says that he’s also scared and finds it good that he isn’t alone with this* *then nods when he ends the call* Yes… I’ll tell him… and we’ll text… definitely! *briefly laughs again quietly because he somehow finds it pretty unreal that they really have texted and talked just now, but then says* Take care, Patrick! *ends the phone call and lets himself fall back onto the bed* *can feel after a while that he’s grinning to himself and unlocks his phone again* *sees the WhatsApp chat with Patrick and is somehow pretty relieved and glad that he was brave enough to reach out to him* *opens the chat with Matteo and texts him*

WhatsApp, David/Matteo: David: I just talked to Patrick on the phone!

Matteo: *is just walking back to the café from the foosball-room and peeks at his phone in the process* *stops when he sees David’s message and grins very broadly* *replies*

WhatsApp, Matteo/David: Matteo: Awesome! Great! That surely wasn’t easy, was it? Can you tell me about it tonight when we have time? I miss you <3 :* ;)

David: *smiles when Matteo immediately texts back and also replies quickly*

WhatsApp, David/Matteo: David: At first I was pretty nervous, but then it was okay. It was somehow good, but also weird. I’ll tell you more about it tonight! I miss you more! :-* And I’m looking forward to later! Five more hours… hang in there, tesorino! <3

(next play)

[amstories]

Newsletter #12: January 2023

Dear RNAs (kinikilig pa rin ako sa tawag ko sa inyo),

It's a brand-new year again and I'm thankful that you choose to spend another year with me. This brand-new year, I have new stories, characters, and writing goals to share with you guys.

2023 WRITING GOALS

Last year, I unofficially joined NaNoWriMo wherein I write everyday for the month of November. That solidified my writing goal for this year—to stay consistent in my writing, whether it be my story updates or the stories that I publish. That's why I'll be having regular updates every Monday this year!

Aside from that, I want to finish at least three stories this year. If I happen to finish more than that, then better, right? One of the things that I want to do this year to accomplish my goals is to participate in this year's NaNoWriMo. This is why I'm already preparing for it as early as now.

I hope I'll be able to reach all of my goals this year but nevertheless, I'm just excited to share my new stories with you this year!

2023 PROJECTS

Since I'll be updating every Monday this year (yes, every Monday of 2023), I have a total of four stories to publish.

Secrets We Can't Keep is going to be my first epistolary, so your feedbacks are very much appreciated, whether it be good or bad. But please do it in a gentle way. Constructive criticisms help me grow as a writer, so I'd accept them when you give one. You can comment on my stories on Wattpad or message me on my socials if you're shy.

Before I proceed to my next projects, I just want to say thank you to everyone who read and loved my novelette series, Karaoke Nights. My next projects are of the same kind and vibe as Karaoke Nights. I'm proud to present to you a novelette series that revolves around the commute scene in Metro Manila, Manila Commuters Club!

Manila Commuters Club has three installments: (1) Project Fate, (2) Commuting For Dummies, and (3) Crush Hour. Each has ten chapters for you to enjoy reading.

Would that be all the stories I'll publish this year? Well, despite being the planner girl that I am, sometimes the best things happen when they're unplanned. That's why I'm still open to spontaneity. So yes, you could expect more stories to be published aside from what I shared in this newsletter. (Gulatan na lang!)

52 FICLET CHALLENGE

Aside from updates every Monday, I'm also planning to post ficlets every Friday. Thus, the 52 ficlet challenge. This would really be a challenge for me since 52 ficlets is a lot.

For me to be able to keep up with the challenge, I decided to divide Ficlet Fridays S04 into four quarters: (1) January to March, (2) April to June, (3) July to September, and (4) October to December. Each quarter would have different themes:

Q1: Fluff bingo, wherein I write ficlets about my original characters from this fluff bingo.

Q2: Fanfictions, wherein I write ficlets about characters from different creators whether it be from a novel, television show, or movie.

Q3: Sides Take The Spotlight, wherein I write ficlets about my side characters. It's their time to shine!

Q4: You Make Me Sick, wherein I write ficlets about the crowds' favorite bickering housemates.

AM STORIES CALENDAR

Because of that, I'll be sharing this shared calendar with you guys so you could keep track of the things I post—story updates, ficlets, newsletters, and the likes. I'll even add some of my characters' birthday and anniversaries there.

You can join the shared calendar here. If the link doesn't work, you can scan the code below or type bit.ly/amstoriescalendar to your browsers.

Should there be any changes in my schedule of postings, you can always check the calendar for reference. You could also enter this Telegram channel for important updates and announcements. I'll keep you updated if there's any change.

Thank you for being with me for the past year(s). I hope you'll be with me again for this new year. I'm excited to spend my 2023 with you, my RNAs. Happy new year, my loves. May this 2023 be nice to each and everyone of you.

nagsusulat, AM

[portaltothevoid]

Masterlist

hey friends! my collection of writings lives here. under the cut you’ll find an eddie munson vampire au one shot, an eddie munson x ofc fic (multi parts and chapters and she’s a total bad ass, you’ll love her), and a fic revolving around lore from the band ghost! if you take the time to read any of my work, you’re amazing and i’m grateful that you’re here. enjoy!

and don’t be afraid to message me i’m just shy

you’re losing me — Terzo/Papa Emeritus III x reader and Copia x reader — heavy angst with a sprinkling of smut (in progress) — ao3 link

You were in a years long relationship with the leader of the Satanic church, destined for greatness at his side. Or so you thought until he became a serial cheater. However, while your relationship with the Ministry's current Papa had been tumultuous for some time, you were finally pushed to make the choice you'd been avoiding - leaving him for another senior clergy member (and Papa's half-brother). This ignited a battle to balance the scales of power which Papa Emeritus III had tipped heavily in his favor to the point of abusing it. From there, you’re set on a cataclysmic journey that reveals your true self. Your current and former relationships are put to the test when your destiny, which is far more important to the church than you could have ever imagined, is finally revealed.

part i | part ii | part iii | part iv | part v | part vi | part vii | part viii | part ix | part x | part xi | part xii | part xiii |

Between Breaths (An XXX Perspective) — terzo x reader smut — ao3 link

You're the Head Witch at the Ministry. Arguably at times you hold more power than the current Papa, Papa Emeritus III. You've always hated him and you assumed the feeling was mutual. But what happens when he calls you out on it?

God Called In Sick Today — copia x oc, mafia au — ao3 link

When a mission goes south, Copia is left scrambling to figure out a plan to get the mayor-to-be in favor of the Emeritus family. That’s where Arianna Diodati, the Mafia Princess of his (very Catholic) rival, comes in. He plans to use her as a bargaining chip to get what he wants. Did he place the right bet or did he take more than he bargained for?

Console the Griever — Copia x GN!Reader — one shot where Copia gives reader the comfort they need to help them as they grieve loved ones.

Love Bites — Eddie Munson x OFC — Vampire AU one shot

Foolin’ — Eddie Munson x OFC — slow burn, angst, fluff (completed)

Kat Ramsay was forced to move to Hawkins for her senior year, which she planned to get through with her head down, so she can go back to her rock’n’roll life in Los Angeles. She never expected her world to be turned upside down as she learned to open her heart, let others care about her, and accept herself with the help of the Freak of Hawkins High.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20 |

A Very Kat Ramsay Christmas Special — Eddie Munson x ofc — fluff (completed)

Kat surprises Eddie with an epic Christmas gift he’ll never forget.

Part One | Part Two

For Whom the Bell Tolls — Eddie Munson x OFC — established relationship, fix it fic (completed)

Eddie and Kat’s relationship is put to the test as they join forces with everyone to take down Vecna. (It’s season four, only with Kat, and Eddie lives.)

1. Lullaby | 2. Voodoo Dolly | 3. Chains of Misery | 4. Metal Meltdown | 5. Veteran of the Psychic Wars | 6. Warning | 7. Youth Gone Wild | 8. Crazy Train | 9. Detroit Rock City | 10. Living Bad Dreams | 11. Leather and Lace | 12. Somethin’ to Hide | 13. Road to Nowhere | 14. Got the Time | 15. Renegade | 16. Symphony of Destruction | 17. Run To The Hills | 18. Friends Will Be Friends | 19. Pull Me Under | 20. The Thing That Should Not Be | 21. A Forest | 22. Demon’s Night | 23. Turn on Your Light | 24. Break On Through | 25. Everybody Wants to Rule the World | 26. The Final Countdown | 27. Breaking the Law | 28. Never Tear Us Apart | 29. Separate Ways (Worlds Apart) | 30. Master of Puppets | 31. The Four Horsemen | 32. Die With Your Boots On | 33. The Last in Line Holding Out for a Hero | 34. For Who the Bell Tolls | 35. Spellbound | series playlist

[tendousthoughts]

HQ Boys Thinking Their S/O Left Them Pt. 3

Character(s) included: Oikawa & Kyoutani

Requested by: @chibiiichann

Warning(s): Cursing, Mention of bullying [Oikawa], Mention of flinching [Kyoutani], Hints towards readers tough past [Kyoutani]

Song of the day: Trees II by McCfferty

A/N: First off thanks for 200- I know I said it a lot but I’m just so glad! Next, many of you haven’t seen but I have updated a few things. One of the biggest being my name I go by. At the moment I’m trying out Xic. I also noted my pronouns and stuff. Which you can all find on my announcements post. Now back to some more ‘important’ things [though this is important, this is not why you came here!]. Sorry about the long wait for part three! Please read through the warnings again to make sure everything is okay. Thank you for everything. Bye!

Where to find all the parts!

Where to find all my content!

Tag(s): @chibiiichann & @corporeal-terrestrial

Oikawa

He was at it again. Working late nights and shit. You were happy for him. You were. Of course you were. He was back doing what he loved. He was back playing volleyball. With that happiness also came fear and worry. You knew how he was. Everyone who ever met him, knew how he was. He over worked himself. He always did and scared you. No matter how hard he tried not to. He pushed himself past his limits. Even after the doctor already told him, if he didn’t ease up on the practice, his knee would get even worse. But he was Oikawa Tōru. Determined and intelligent.

It was ten thirty and he already missed your date. Which you expected to happen, but it still kind of hurt. You tried calling for the fifth time that night, but you were met with the same thing. After a few rings it went to voicemail.

“Hey! You’ve reached the voicemail of Oikawa Tōru, thank you for calling! At the moment I’m busy but I promise after I’m done I’ll call you back. If you want, leave me a message and I’ll get back to you. Byeee!”

You waited all night for him to come home around twelve thirty. He looked tired. Extremely tired and to be honest that pissed you off more. Not only did he not respond but he over worked himself again, and when he woke up the next night sore, you were the one who would have to take care of him.

Instead of bringing it up you waited for the morning. Not wanting to have this conversation while he was tired. It would feel like you were talking to yourself, and he wouldn’t understand. So you went to bed with him and by the morning he was already up before you.

You went to the kitchen to find him shuffling through your medication bin. “Are you sore?” You ask, looking at him.

“I’ll be fine, I just need breakfast and some medicine,” he muttered. He couldn’t have cared less. At least that’s what it looked like. He didn’t even spare you a glance.

“Maybe you should listen. You know, lay off volleyball practice for a day or something. Try to lesson the hours and stuff..” You looked back at him for his reaction.

“Can’t. If I ease up I’ll never be able to catch up.” He finally looked to you now, finding the medicine.

“I mean I think you will be fine. It is taking over your whole life and stuff so I just don’t want it to be a bigger issue. Like you know.. with your knees and stuff.” Your eyes are pinned on him.

“I told you not to worry about my knee, and it’s not taking up my life okay? It has and will always be my life. It’s the only thing I’m good at. So no, I'm not going to take a break.” He snapped at you. Which caught you off guard.

“It is… It is taking up your life,” you replied which made his face change.

“You don’t understand how it is like me. You don’t! I understand you don’t have anything you're good at and shit. But you have to understand that I actually have goals in life okay? You have to understand that my fucking life won’t revolve around you and how you feel when I do something. It won’t and never will. You and I are together because I feel like having you around. Because you know what, volleyball is the only thing that distracts me from leaving. Volleyball is the only thing I can do to escape you!” He screamed.

It takes a few seconds for the weight of his words to sink into your skin. But here’s the thing. You knew what you were up against when you started dating him. He just lit a fuse in you. A spark that made an explosion of feelings hit you. When it did you couldn’t control your words. “After all that practice I wondered why you never made it to nationals. I mean seriously. You need a distraction from me, right? Your always doing it, and get you can’t even fucking get to nationals. Not only that but I can see why your last girlfriend left you. You're a dick. You can’t remember a fucking date. A fucking date we have been planning for weeks. Oh wait, let me correct that, a date I’ve been planning for weeks. Not only that but I took my fucking time to work around your schedule. For you not to even send a message.” You spat out. You looked down at him, “I wonder sometimes if everyone was right. You and me. Never belonged. I’m just a distraction from such a ‘handsome’ and ‘kind’ person.”

He looked hurt at first, but then again he started it and intended to finish it. “I can see why your whole family doesn’t talk to you. You always think you're the best or something. Maybe I remembered the date. Have you ever thought of that? Maybe I didn’t wanna hangout with you. Maybe I didn’t want to hear you nagging me every fucking second. You know what? I can see why people fucking hate you. Bully you and shit. Your such a fucking selfish freak.”

“What..?” You looked at him. You told him you were bullied, because you thought of him as your safe space. You thought of him as the only person who understood you. You felt safe when he was around you. You felt understood. To use that against you. To say you deserved it. To say you deserved to get hurt. To get shamed. To get everything that happened to you… it was your fault?

“What are you too dumb to understand?” He laughed at you. Hatred and venom spilling from his lips. “Awe.. look at the baby. You should be grateful I didn't break up with you. You should be thankful because I’m the only reason you're even someone.”

Tears filled your eyes. “God fucking damn it.” You muttered softly. You weren’t going to allow him to take you down. You were stronger then he would ever understand. “You really think anyone wants to hang out with you..? Do you fucking think anyone find you a good person..? Your just a fucking pretty face, okay? Your nothing compared to anyone else on your team. You might not realize it but to be honest sometimes I do want to be set free. Set free from this shitty relationship okay? That’s the truth. Sometimes I get sick of having to take care of you. When your fucking sore before you over works your self again. I am the only one trying to keep you okay. I’m the only one who actually thinks about the long run. No matter how hard you practice in the end you won’t even be able to walk. Let alone play volleyball and shit. You know what sometimes I get sick of being the only fucking one trying to keep us together.”

“Then maybe you should give up okay. Maybe we should finally go our separate ways. I mean after all, you're too easy.” He was hurt. He just blurted out whatever he thought would hurt you the most. Which fucking worked. Before you had said anything more he had left the room, leaving you stunned.

It took a moment but before you knew it you were out of the house, crying and walking the farthest away from your shared house as you could. “Fuck..” you whisper. Did he really not want to be with you..? You should have known. This relationship wasn’t a relationship. You barely talked. You felt alone. So fucking alone.

It took an hour for him to fully cool down. When he walked out of the room he was expecting you to be waiting for him. He was expecting everything to be okay. When he was met with the emptiness. The emptiness of you being actually gone. He was met with the realization that his words were taken just how he thought he wanted them to be.

You on the other hand we’re at the park blasting music in your ears. Forcing the thoughts to be pushed deep down. Forcing you to forget everything. Everything that hurts you. Maybe it would be best if you guys did go your separate ways..? You knew this wasn’t good for your mental health. But fuck that. This was the only thing that made you feel grounded. Made you feel okay. When he wasn’t with you or practicing he was out with friends, drinking and partying. You couldn’t continue to live like this. So maybe it would be best to let go. To give up on everything and everything you loved… your everything was him. You always argued and at this point you felt sick. Thinking about it just broke you. You had no more tears to cry, with your tear stained cheeks you decided to go back. To your home. It was over. Everything you had built up was coming crashing down.

On his side he was freaking out. He knew he was in the wrong. He knew there was no excuse for what he did to you, but what could he say? You were gone already. It took a bit for him to get to the nerve to call you. To his surprise he heard the sound of your ringing phone. So you left it. Maybe you were going to come back. Maybe you will and then everything will be okay again. Maybe everything would be perfect. It was a small chance but that's all he could hold on to.

When you walked in it was quiet, but there were soft whimpers and cries coming from your shared room. Gently you knocked on the door and waited for a response. You were surprised when you immediately heard a stumble and then were met with a hug. Your shoulder almost immediately feels wet to the touch. “Ba.. Oikawa..?” You muttered.

“Please don’t call me that.. please..” He muttered softly. His face buried deep into your clothes.

You kinda ignored his response. “I came back to get my stuff. I took into consideration what you said and I realized that you don’t deserve to be distracted by me all the time..” You whispered softly. “So like you said earlier.. I think it is best if we stop seeing each other.. entirely because I don’t know if I could let you go otherwise..”

His arms tightened around you, “C..can we please talk about it first.. please..” his nightmare was coming true, and maybe it was dumb but he didn’t realize how much he needed you.

“There’s nothing to talk about.. I don’t understand why you want to make it harder on me. I gave you what you wanted okay..? You can practice your heart out and hangout with your friends and stuff okay? You can finally find someone who will fit all your needs. You and I both know that I will never be what you want. So maybe it would be best if we just let go..”

“No… please no.. that’s not what I want.. I want to make it up to you and be there for you and I want to make you happy and I want everything to be perfect. I know I messed up okay? I don’t deserve you and I don’t know what came over me today because you're everything I’ve ever wanted. I know I don’t deserve it and there’s no excuse for what I said or did… I know I should let you find someone better but I love you. I love you so fucking much. I know I’ve been lacking and I want to make up for it. I want to be someone you want to be around again.. I love you so fucking much okay? I should have been there. I shouldn’t have said the things I did. I know I don’t deserve a second chance but please.. just one more.. I promise I’ll make it up to you.” He didn’t want to let go of everything.

“I’m sorry too.. you didn’t deserve it. I’m sorry for everything and that’s why I want to let you go. To find someone who will not hurt you like I hurt you.. You and I both know that I can't resist it. I don’t know why you do this to me.. pull me back.. you have one more chance… Please don’t make me regret it. I really love you but this.. this isn’t going to work if we do what we are doing now okay? We will just tear each other more and more apart..” you whispered gently, kissing his head. Your arms finally meet his back as you hold him. “I’m sorry.. but I’ve got you now baby. I love you so fucking much..”

Kyoutani

Kyoutani was the type of person most people would never understand. Not because they were “difficult” or anything.. they just never took the time too. Well other than you. You were different. You understood his outburst and such. But at the same time you were human. There was only so much you could take. There was only so much you would take.

When he came into the locker room you were already waiting for him. He had been thrown out of the game for fighting with a few people. You knew he was frustrated. You could hear the crowd from a mile away shouting to kick him off. It was harsh. Even for ‘mad dog’ which he hated to be called. He hated to be tied to an animal.. and always being an angry reck. Anybody would. But of course nobody understood other than you. When he sat on the bench you immediately rushed over.

“Baby.. I’m sorry.. You didn’t deserve that.. just ignore them, please. I know it’s hard but their not important okay..?” You we’re just trying to comfort him. But there were times when Kyoutani couldn’t control himself. Like any other person when they get looked down at every fucking moment of their lives. When they are ridiculed and laughed at all the time. When they are nothing more than an angry person.. Sometimes there is nothing more to do than be the person everyone so desperately makes you out to be.

“Not important? Not important! I just got fucking kicked from the game because of them chanting to kick me. They didn’t even fucking have the decency to call me by my name. So don’t tell me it’s okay and that their opinion on me doesn’t matter. Because quite frankly their opinion is the only one that matters it seems.” He lashed out.

“I didn’t mean to upset you. It’s just that.. it wasn’t entirely their fault. You were arguing with the other team members.” You muttered. It wasn’t meant to do any harm, just for him to keep in mind.

“Are you serious right now.? Nobody else got kicked. Nobody. If they can’t handle a little trash talking, maybe they shouldn’t play a sport. I mean seriously there’s no need for them to tell the referees to kick me.” He started raising his voice when he spoke.

“I know it’s just that.. maybe you should try and not trash talk you know?” You whispered softly, retreating a bit.

“What?” He looked annoyed. “God ducking damn it. How can you be so cute but so fucking annoying. I mean seriously how can someone with such a face be so fucking dumb and so annoying?” His hands were balled into fist

“I..I don’t understand, can you tell me why you act so sweet..? Then so cold the next moment..? You don’t mean it right..? Please say you don’t mean it.” You were worried you loved him but god it was hard. It was hard to respond when your friends asked about your relationship. It was hard when they flaunted their perfect relationship and then asked about yours. Its was so fucking hard.

“Do you think I would say it otherwise..?” He looked at you. He laughed at you as he saw your pitiful expression. God it was almost sickening how much he saw that expression. That expression that nobody else had ever shown him. The one of worry  but at the same time already knowing it was coming. He loved it. He loved everything about you. But most of the time you pissed him off. This relationship wasn’t healthy. But for god sake you already started counseling. But fuck this was a bad idea.

Silence. Nothing could come out. You wanted to scream. You wanted to forget this. You wanted it to stop. Everything to stop.

“Answer me.” He punched the wall next to you. Fear spreading all over your face. Fuck. Fuck. Not here. Please no. He gripped your warm face making it so cold in seconds. Forcing you to look at him he laughed at your crying face. But when you didn’t stop for a minute he immediately backed away. He fucked up. He knew he fucked up. “Wait I’m sorry baby..” he muttered.

“Please stop. Please. I won’t do it again.” Flashbacks we’re pulling you way too far out. You were drowning. No one was around to save you. He was laughing as you begged to be saved, pushing you deeper into your own pool of your own thoughts. You were so cold. The next second you were able to move back to the surface.

Realization hit as he stepped back. “I..I am sorry..” he muttered softly as he left the room without another word leaving his mouth. Words were banging on his lips but he knew if he spilled them out everything out it would just hurt you ten times more.

You got up five minutes later, finally pulled back to reality and decided to get up. Grabbing your stuff you walked back into the stadium. Waving a small wave to the rest of his team before exiting. Confusion was read all over as they saw your tear stained face. To be honest, all that was running through your mind was that you didn’t want Kyoutani to break up with you. You didn’t want to be alone, again. You didn’t want to be just another one of his ex’s. So for the better of both of you it would be best to leave him be. To let him cool off.. for him to feel better.

He was freaking out. He fucked up. You. You were his everything, not only that but you were more than just that. You were like a fucking rainbow at the end of a rainy day. You were his partner in crime. You made him feel normal, you made him feel safe, and loved. He couldn’t believe he just put that all in danger. He just put everything on the line because of some stupid game. He hit the wall hard, “fuck me. I’m sorry y/n..” he muttered as he sank to the floor and balled up. Tears burning through his eyes. He did the one thing he promised you that he would protect you from. You became the one thing he was always scared of becoming. He loved you so much, he love you so fucking much.

You left and got into your car. Sinking into your seat you locked the doors, and hit the steering wheel. Taking a deep breath salty tears rolled down your already stained face. Placing the key in and turning it the car started. Next thing you knew you had left wherever you could go. You loved him. So fucking much. But it was hard to be okay when he acted so fucking rough with you. It was hard to stay calm and not imagine your past relationship in this one. You tried. You really did but god it was hard to feel okay, feel okay about everything happening around you. It was too much. So fucking much. It made your head hurt.

When the game ended Kyoutani was still freaking out, now moved back into the lockers. He didn’t know what he was expecting but he knew he hoped you would still be there. God damn it. He fucked up. You had left. You were gone. Tears brimming his eyes as he teammates walked in. Now mentioning it to his teammates their faces seemed to change. More salty fucking tears left his eyes, as he heard about what type of pain you looked like you were in.

You headed back to your shared place. Unsure where else to go. You weren’t close with your family anymore. You had no friends. You had no work buddies. You had nobody but Kyoutani and in turn, now you were left alone with the thought of everything being gone. Ripped right out of your hands as you're forced to watch your whole world come crumbling down on you. You placed your stuff down on the side and laid on the bed. It smelled just like safety. Just like Kyoutani. You just wanted to be held. You just wanted everything to be perfect, again. To be okay at least. You needed him more than anything.

After a night out he finally made it back to your shared place. He didn’t want to be back without you, but you weren’t answering and he didn’t know what else to do. When he walked into the apartment he slowly walked into your shared room. There he saw you. Laying in bed cuddled up in the blankets. Slowly and carefully he walked up. Not wanting to cause you any more hurt. He missed you. Even for a few hours he had felt like he hadn’t seen you in years. But maybe that was because he thought that’s what might have happened. Maybe he thought you had left for good. Maybe he thought he would never have the chance to apologize. Never have the chance to hold you again. When he reached the bed he noticed that you were awake. “Hey y/n..” he muttered softly. The silence was killing him. “I’m so sorry. I know I fucked up. I promised to make you feel safe and protected around me. I made a promise to keep you safe and protected. I broke both of those. I fucked up. I know I did. I lashed out again. I did exactly what everyone says I do. I just get so fucking heated for no reason and I know I shouldn’t and I know I should just relax. But I feel like if I do the worlds would burn though my throat and then it would just explode.. and I know it’s stupid and I know I end up hurting you more. I know that there is no good reason to do that. But I just.. I don’t know. You're the only one that makes me feel normal okay..? I know it’s not fair. I know it’s not. You just make me feel like whenever I’m with you that I’m floating. I just want everything to be okay again. I want everything to be back to normal. I know I should give you space but I missed you so much. I don’t want you to leave, please don’t leave..” he was crying again. He barely had any tears left to cry. He wanted to hold you but he knew it was a stupid idea. “I’m sorry for being so selfish.. but please..”

You never really heard him or saw him crack. But fuck. It hurts you so much. To see him beg for you to stay with him. What were you supposed to do..? Leave him now? That was never even the plan. You didn’t have a plan to be honest. You sat up biting your lip before you gently held him. “Hey baby it will be okay.. calm down I’ve got you.. I’m not going anywhere now. I promise you I’m not going anywhere.” You muttered softly. He melted into your touch. He knew he didn’t deserve it but he felt like he couldn’t breathe. “Shush… I’ve got you.. take a deep breath..” you mumbled softly kissing his head as he took deep breaths. Soon enough he was relaxed in your arms again. “You know and I know that I love you so much. But there’s a line between where I can take it and I can’t. I understand you get frustrated but I don’t deserve to be treated like that. I don’t deserve to be scared of being hit.. and I know we both know that. I try to be understanding but you need to try to be too okay..? I love you so much.. more than you might believe but Kyoutani I can’t handle being in a relationship with you if you're constantly annoyed or angry with me. I think we deserve to be happy.. and if that means needing to take a break then we would have to okay? You need to work on communicating. I know it can be hard.. but please..” you whispered. Tears flowing down your soft skin again. It was getting a lot. So it would be best if you told him… you needed him to understand.

He gently shook his head. He understood. He knew he was in the wrong. He knew he was lucky for you to be holding him.. for him to even still be in a relationship with you let alone it be still a romantic one. He loved you and he knew you didn’t deserve anything that he put you through. In the end all that mattered was you in his eyes. He was going to change.. he was. “I promise.. thank you y/n..” he whispered softly. Gently he wrapped his arms around you. “I love you so much..” he muttered. Everything would be okay.. he knew it was going to be now. All that mattered was that you were safe. That you were happy.. that you were in his arms again.

Follows and likes are appreciated! Please reblog if you enjoyed it, so more people can find my work! Thank you all for your support! Stay safe, and have a good rest of your day!

[darkanddirtyknb]

PERSONAL UPDATE

Hi lovelies, I'm sorry it's been so long since I've posted anything. Things have been rough lately--dare I say, much harder than usual. I've been struggling to come to grips with the fact that I can't overcome my mental issues, which are predominantly health-focused. I strive to be a positive person, but I have been surrounded by negativity for so long that I can't help but get sucked into a dark space from time to time. Lately, however, it seems I'm stuck in this crippling void. As some of you know (if you read these updates), I recently started therapy for my chronic pain and mental health. I can't say it's done much yet, but I know it takes time. That said, I have been learning some things about myself. One of those things is that I struggle to prioritize myself. I will drag myself through hell to please the people closest to me. I am proud of this part of me because it shows that I have empathy and compassion. I care about people. I used to struggle to understand my feelings, and sometimes I wondered if I felt anything. I went through periods where I felt empty and still do. I would wonder in the past if I was emotionless because I couldn't find it within me to care about others how I felt I should. But that's not true. The problem is that I care too much, meaning that I get taken advantage of within my family, and while I want to be there for them, it's starting to wear me down. I've been sick for so long that I'm no longer capable of handling my problems and theirs. It makes me feel selfish for saying so. But I'm not good at taking care of myself. It's something I've always struggled with mentally. I used to self-harm in the past just so I could feel something. Because between being a child who was forced to shoulder all of my family's problems and witnessing things I shouldn't have, I needed something tangible I could hold onto. I'm not condoning or excusing my behavior. It was a bad thing to do, but it happened, and I'm not ashamed to admit it. I did a lot of things I shouldn't have. Unfortunately, that's a part of growing up, and while I'm different in many ways, I'm still human. This leads me to say that I've been very frustrated lately. I've grown a bit resentful of my condition(s). I want to live my life normally. I want to travel and visit the people I've grown close to and love. I can't do these things that are arguably simple to achieve because of my physical health. Not to mention my financial position. I can't save money because all of the funds I earn go to medical costs. My entire life revolves around my physical health. I've been saving for a trip I have to take next week. I need to see a neurologist to further discuss the possibility of having MS. Again. It's a never-ending cycle. It's a 4-5 hour trip, and the anxiety I have about it is ridiculous. I'm tired of being in pain all the time. I'm tired of waking up, ready to write, and getting a migraine that stops me from being able to do anything. I'm tired of not being able to walk without pain or shortness of breath. I'm sick of struggling to do menial tasks without needing to take breaks. I suppose some people might see this message as a rant full of complaints, but I'm just trying to convey my position. I'm not looking for pity or sorrow. I just feel so much guilt all the time, like I'm always letting people down, myself included, and that goes for my followers, as well. I really enjoy putting out new content. I love the feedback. I love how happy it makes people. I don't even mind the occasional discourse. When people tell me that my stories have saved them or helped them through hard times, I am filled with a sense of joy that I can't often find in my everyday life. Having said that, I am blessed to have a beautiful girlfriend, a wonderful dog, and extraordinary followers and friends in my life. I don't ever want to take what I have for granted. I just wish that I could do more of what I want to do without my ailments stepping in. I have a hard time admitting weakness, but I'll say this here, I am scared about my future. I'm fucking terrified that my health is going to keep getting worse because that's all it's ever shown me. I don't know how much more I can handle. I've been fighting chronic illness for over ten years now. It's exhausting. But I also know that there are people who have it much worse than I do. Still, each day is a struggle, and life is never easy with its constant curve balls. Recently, my girlfriend was on the brink of suicide because of medication withdrawal (SNRI). It scared the shit out of me. If anything ever happened to her, I wouldn't make it. We've been together for well over ten years. She's my everything. Then, my dog had a mini-seizure, and I had to take him to the vet. He's already ten, and I believe he has a lot of time left, but I can't stomach the thought of losing him. That means I'll do anything I can to keep him around and comfortable. Fortunately, I have an account I can make payments on. But after only 20 minutes, I was handed a bill for $340. It's just constant stress on top of everything else, and I understand that all of this is a part of life, and everyone has problems. It's just been tough lately. I feel like I can never get ahead. Not in anything. I can't get ahead in life. I can't get ahead of my pain. I can't get ahead financially. I'm trying very hard to get to a place where I can get back to normal. I want to write again. I want to have sleepovers and chats and open up my box again. I want to feel like I'm living, not just getting by. I want my life back. I'm sorry that this turned into such a long-winded update. I just felt like it was time to share some things with you. Thank you for reading and sticking around. I love you all. I'm always wishing you all the best. Take care. Love, Kai

[physicalturian]

[18+] Deranged Love - Hanma Shuji x F!Reader - Part 5

[Probably contains spoilers from the anime and the manga][She/Her pronouns used for the reader, no physical description; Everyone is +18]

Words : 9874

Archiveofourown

Warnings : Explicit! / Phone sex / Blood / Injuries / Guns / Blood / Graphic depiction of violence / Killing / NSFW / Maturbation

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

When I woke up the following morning, Koko was nowhere to be seen. Not a trace of him anywhere around, I made sure of that by checking every room and corners in my house. It felt lonely for a moment, to not have anyone around the place, but I wanted to get back to being used to it. I had been living like that long enough to not shed a tear simply because criminals had left my house, how odd of a thought to have.

Even as I thought it stupid to feel like something was missing from their absence, I could not find the strength to act as if nothing had happened, nor was I allowed to do so. The adrenaline I had felt during those two days was addictive and without it, everything seemed dull now. For the few days during which Hanma said he would be gone, I barely heard of him. My routine had returned and no one at work found it strange that Eisuke was gone; as I asked around, they told me he had gone on holiday with a woman he had recently met. A knot formed in my stomach at the mention of that woman because I knew who it was, I had been the one forced to play the role of the love-struck woman that adored her little CEO. It made me sick.

On Tuesday while I was at work, I received a message from Hanma that made me lock my screen right away. For some reason, I thought it would be smart to check the message while my Junior was watching over my shoulder to see how I did things. With the skin exposed on the photo, it did not take a genius to guess what the context was, so I closed it and set my phone facing down on the desk. “What is it?” she asked curiously, her hands planted on the desk as she leaned over to check the screen I was working on. With a rehearsed confident chuckle, I shook my head, “Just a friend.”

Her reply caught me off guard when she exclaimed, “You have friends?!” She quickly realized it was rude. I did not take any offense in her words—it even made me smile at how genuine her shock was—but it did put in perspective how little of my life revolved around socializing. “I mean, that’s not what I meant but like, I’m sorry, I never see you when we go out drinking with the firm on Fridays, so I assumed you did not like doing that kind of stuff and—“ “Alright, alright. You are forgiven, I do have some friends albeit a scarce amount.” Once more, I lied to the girl. Sure, I had a few people I hung out with, but we were all very busy with work. While I could count on them no matter the issue I encountered, I no longer felt safe spending time with them if it gave Bonten leverage on me to know I had people I cared about.

“Although, this one is more of a… how should I put it…” Colleague? How would one call someone who threatened them into joining their awful criminal organization, to then flirt with you in the worst way—was it even flirting or was he just vulgar? Sighing, I covered my face in frustration trying to find the right words. “Are you flustered? Is it someone you’re interested in?” I heard Rai ask in excitement. I was quick to uncover my face and shake my head, “No, absolutely not. No such things, it’s someone very annoying and bad—““But you have their number… how bad can they be?” Her hand slid to my phone and tried to unlock it, in vain. It made her sigh in disappointment as she handed it back to me, pouting slightly. She was getting comfortable around me, which was reassuring. I liked that she was not being as fearful as in the first weeks she had started working alongside me.

Seeing how dejected she was, I sighed too and smiled softly. “I sometimes work a business on the side, to help… this friend out, and he finds it fun to send me…” inappropriate photos? To jerk off on the phone with me? To traumatize me and force me to use a gun against my will? Nothing was right with any of those things, yet here I was, feeling relieved to see a message from the bastard. “He has a lot of free time, let’s say. And he likes to show off where he goes, I suppose.” Rai’s face lit up and she rested her elbows on the desk, her face cradled in her hands, “Does he travel a lot? Does he have money? Do you see him a lot? Is he cute?” Without thinking much, I answered rapidly, “Yes, quite. Yes. Unfortunately, yes. Yes.”

It was true that he travelled, he had to be able to meet up with important people. And sometimes take care of some of the things that would follow after their encounters. And with how easy it was for them to bribe or threaten, money probably wasn’t an issue. As Hanma had said, hush-money was the currency of the underworld, the world they ruled. “Can I see him? I never thought you the type to have a crush!” She exclaimed, snatching me out of my daydream. In confusion, I quirked a brow and she laughed a bit too loudly in reaction, making people shush her at the outburst. “You said he was cute, do you have a picture?” “Absolutely not, he is a real asshole. I do not have pictures and I believe we should return to work.”

With that, I gripped the edge of my desk and pulled myself closer to it, rolling my chair so that I was fully facing the screen. The girl grinned and hesitantly nudged my shoulder, “I think it’s good for you to have a crush, boss.” This man was just an animal, too wild and too primal, clearly acting purely on instinct instead of rational thoughts and there was nothing good that could come out of this. All of that was enough to make me ignore how attractive he was. “Go back to work, Junior.” I said with a wink, to make sure she did not feel too uncomfortable after being so familiar with me.

Half-heartedly, I unlocked my phone to check the message he had sent me and took hold of myself rapidly when I understood what it was. I had no idea where the man was nor what was his business, but he had found the time to send me a picture of himself with someone on his lap. The woman was clad in only fancy underwear and it seemed to be a public place, probably a strip club. His punishment-tattooed hand was groping her ass cheek and he was smiling lazily at the camera. I could not believe the effort he had put in this just to send it to me, what did he think he was doing? That bastard even asked someone to take the picture for him, he really thinks he’s the shit uh… I thought with a dry scoff.

Yet, my eyes did not leave the photo. His arrogant attitude made the situation a lot more erotic than it was, it was unnecessary of him to look straight at the camera as if he was looking at me. The tie around his neck was undone slightly and his free hand was holding a cigarette to his lips, his legs spread for the woman to sit balanced on his thigh. It was hot, but once again I was confused as to why he had sent me this.

Reading the message accompanying the picture, I chuckled.

H.: This could be us

H.: I’m sure you’d love to have my hands on your ass

Rolling my eyes, I texted back rapidly.

Me: You sure know how to make a woman feel special, send me more pictures of you with other women that sure does the trick

Me: At least you are alive. Good for you.

With a huff, I put my phone down. For some reason something was going on inside my chest, I was probably angry at the unwanted picture he had sent. If I wanted to see some ass, I could have gone to a strip club myself, but he had chosen to share that little part of his trip with me, to try to rile me up for whatever reason. Forcing myself to focus on my work, I found myself once more lost in thought, undergoing my tasks automatically. The mood at the firm had changed, but no one around seemed to be aware of it, they all bathed in ignorance, joking and talking as usual, unaware that Eisuke was not coming back. It was not unusual for him to go on a sudden trip, but I knew better.

Each time my mind would drift to Eisuke, I would make sure to drown those thoughts by working even more.

As I did exactly that, time went by in a flash. Around lunch break that day, when I checked my phone, Hanma had replied with something that made me laugh again. I let myself enjoy the moment, because reminding myself they were bad people did not help coping. I could give him some credit and admit he had a funny bone to him, sometimes, amidst the insanity.

H.: Your turn now

H.: Give me something to work with here

H.: After all I haven’t seen you in days

H.: It’d be a shame to forget that angry frown that I could twist in one of pleasure if only you’d let me

“Ah!” I said out loud, scoffing again with a stupid smile on my lips as I walked to the bathroom, hand wrapped tightly around the phone. My heels clicked on the ground at a fast pace, I looked determined but not for the reason some might think. Once I entered the stall, I closed the lid and sat on the toilet before pressing the camera app and aiming it at me.

With a crisped smile, I brought my hand in front of the camera and flipped him off before sending it to him.

H.: Good angle, now just take the top off and I’m sure I could work with it

How insufferable could he be? I did not want him to work with anything, I wanted to ruin the silly little mindset he was in, trying to get off probably. This time I aimed the camera lower, so that the angle was not as great, and he could hardly get anything from it.

Me: Keep your hands on the stripper and not on your cock

H. replied to your photo: so that’s what you’d look like if you were riding my dick, uh? That’s good

Closing my eyes, I took a moment to calm down. He could truly turn anything to his advantage, no matter what I say, he would find a way to get off from it. Truly a sick man. I typed back.

Me: Feel free to not come back, I find myself more than content now that I am back to my routine without you. You can also keep those pictures of your hand on asses to yourself.

H.: Shouldn’t have said that, doll.

Me: Ok, have a good day, I stand by what I said.

Hating myself for laughing at his jokes was tiring. So when I received a new message from him two days later, I chuckled. This time, his hand was not on some random skin—instead, it was tightly wrapped around the neck of a grown man. I would never admit it, but there was something appealing about this display of strength. I knew the man was crazy and I could not justify his actions, nor did I know what he was doing or had been doing for the past few days, but I found myself smiling at the picture he had sent. The man was illogical, I did not know what he was up to, what he was searching for, what he was trying to get from me by sending me these kinds of pictures, but I was fully aware that by responding to his text I was playing along. So, I replied.

Me:I suppose you're going to tell me that I wish for you to wrap your hands around my neck?

H.: Glad you admit it

This odd feeling in my chest was back and I felt a thrill thinking this was a man he had beaten up and was holding just like that. Wait—reprimanding myself internally, I put the phone down with a nervous chuckle.

“Can’t believe I find it appealing, I must be going mental.” I mumbled to myself with a smile of disbelief. Knowing the man, he had followed what I said, which was to keep the picture of his hand on an ass to himself. This time it was around a neck. I did not reply to his message, but I did save the picture—as I did it, I felt shameful, but he was never going to find out I found appeal in it. My phone was mine, locked and kept away from him, and never in my life would I tell him he looked good.

My lack of response did not deter him, even if I thought it did. It took him two more days to send another text and to say I was relieved to see a new message from him would be… fair. It would also need the complementary information that was: I was checking my phone too many times for my liking throughout those two days. Enough times to make it wrong, obsessional.

It was late at night this time. I had just got out of the shower, wrapped warmly in my bathrobe and the picture I had received was not as well-lit as usual. Pressing my fingers on the screen, I zoomed in and opened my mouth in shock at the picture. Someone was unconscious on the ground, blood splattered everywhere as two other people stood nearby. I couldn’t see their faces, but I assumed one of them was Sanzu from the lighter-colored suit and hair. The narrow street was a cul-de-sac and the camera was more angled towards the wall, rather than the person on the ground, making that the background more than the subject of the picture. Hanma’s shadow was cast on the ground, but he was not in the picture. Curious of what was the purpose of the picture, I looked at the message that followed and snorted, immediately thinking it was bad to laugh at that.

H.: I could fuck you so good against that wall

Me: Are we not going to mention the person on the ground?

Me: Has the thought crossed your mind before, or after beating a guy up?

Without a surprise, my phone lit up with his name appearing on the screen. It had been a while since I had heard him and when he spoke up, my entire body tensed. While my memory of his voice was fading, the reaction I had to it was not disappearing, fear engulfed my form.

“Fighting gets me rock hard, doll. And your ass has been on my mind all week, you can’t blame me for thinking of fucking you every time I’m done taking care of someone.” When I laughed softly at his words, it stopped him from adding anything. Almost as if he had been caught off guard. I took the opportunity and said, “You’re obsessed, should I fear you coming into my room at night?” The distance separating us made it easier to joke, to relax. His presence was scary, but his carefree use of violence was the most frightening; knowing he was away gave me some confidence. “Aren’t you playful tonight?” His voice mocking, just like I was used to hearing it. He continued in a more serious tone, “Just because I’m not there doesn’t mean you can relax, I’ll be sending you on an errand tomorrow.” “I am not free during the day, I have work to attend—“ I was interrupted by his hand slamming on something, a wall, a desk, or maybe a car, I was too startled to care.

“When I say I need you, you free your schedule. It’s not that hard to understand, doll.” The last sentence was cooed condescendingly. I had never heard him like that, sure I had hardly spent any time with the man, but anger was not an emotion that I had seen on him. He was upbeat, hectic and in control, whatever was weighing his mind turned him into something I could not manage. If when in control he was already scary, what could he do out of control? “Yes sir. I suggest you let out some steam, because I did nothing to earn that anger of yours. I’ll do whatever you tell me to, it’s not like I had a choice.” I scoffed the last part, earning myself a huff from the man on the other end of the phone.

My hands were sweaty, I did not feel comfortable and I blamed it on the tension between us, a tension that arrived out of nowhere without any warning. “Don’t fuck up the errand, it’s that simple.” “I shot a man for you, or whatever. You can’t think of me as not trustworthy, what else do I have to do to prove that? Uh?” His attitude changed drastically when he replied, back to his normal self and almost apologetic. I didn’t believe he would ever apologize for anything, all he did was act on his own accord, for his own silly entertainment. “I know you can do well with the right incentive—but I’m the incentive. And I won’t be there tomorrow. We’ll be relying on how fucked up I made you this far to see how good you’ll do.” There was a short pause, it was odd to not have a conversation he had overly turned sexual for once. It was almost normal, he added to that feeling of normalcy when he said, “Trust me, I know you can do it. The other guys though, they need more proof. Call it an initiation, our leader has some trust issues.” “I’m not fucked up, but that doesn’t mean I’ll fail.”

Hesitant, I asked, “Still… what will happen if I do fail?”

His answer, like a sharp knife, cut the veil of safety I believe I had by being under his protection. How stupid I was to have believed that if anyone could simply kill me without caring I was Hanma’s protégé, “They’d probably put a bullet in your head, because you’d be a liability.” He must have heard my mute gasp. The pressure added on my shoulders, one that made me scared to misstep, to even make one mistake—what if I stammered, what if I tripped, what if I had to kill someone? I did not want to get a bullet in the head, I did not want to die, because I needed to prove I was not a bad choice. If I was going to be a part of that stupid organization, I was going to show I can be useful, no matter the reasoning Hanma had upon choosing me. “Which I won’t be. How hard can it be? I can do it, yeah sure. We wouldn’t want you to have a bad reputation because you brought in someone useless to that little gang of yours.” I said in a half-confident, half-humoristic manner. If I said it out loud, I was bound to believe I was going to make it, right?

“Atta girl, you should get a reward for being good like that—“ “Gross, I’m hanging up. You should learn to read the mood, because this? It’s not it.” He groaned, the chair on which he was sitting creaked loudly as he probably leaned back. “Let me set the mood and it’ll be just good, you’re in your bed, right?” Rolling my eyes, I sighed loudly and did not reply. But I did not hang up either. I was aware of the message it sent… And yet, I did not move from my spot and waited for him to say something more. All I heard was a soft chuckle then a metallic sound. Why was my heart beating like that? It felt wrong to stay on call knowing where he was leading this conversation, fuck did it feel wrong, but thrilling. “What time is it, doll?”

“Half past midnight.” Shit, my voice was weak, why was I whispering if there was no one in my house? I swore under my breath and laid down in bed, it felt like a déjà-vu and like that time, there was this throbbing between my legs. “Perfect, can my birthday gift be a pic of my girl?” “Shouldn’t you find someone else to help you get that relief?” I tried to not let it show through my tone that I was annoyed he had said that; after all, he could just as well go to a brothel and see other women. He had done so a few days ago, so why not now? Why would I play along with his little sexual needs and give him pictures of myself if he could go pay for it? “Nah, I want you to take that bathrobe off like that time on the balcony. But this time, willingly.”

I could not hold back the unconvinced laugh that escaped my lips upon hearing those words. The man must have had a few drinks to dare ask for such things—who was I kidding, of course not. He simply had the audacity to not care less if he did not get it. And if he did get a picture, it would only prove his hold on me was tightening, something I slowly came to believe was true when I still considered doing it. My fingers danced over the knot on my stomach, “I don’t know what makes you think I’ll do that, when all you ever did to me was trample on my boundaries.“ “Did I, now? Maybe I broke a door, but I never forced you to do anything, not really. Coerced? Maybe, but how thrilling is it? I’m helping you out of your boring life, aren’t I?” A sound of surprise got stuck in my throat, so I did not reply. I would’ve liked to tell him I enjoyed my boring life, but over this past week, I had realized how much fun it lacked and that he was the reason for the few days it was interesting.

“So, help me break my own boredom, show me that pretty body of yours.” “How about checking on that woman?” Of course, he had to play dumb and I could hear his smile when he asked, “What woman?” With a clenched jaw, I mumbled, “The one from the photo you sent.“ “Oh! That’s what’s going on, you’re jealous, shit that’s funny.” Was I jealous? Fuck, was I getting jealous over nothing? I was not allowed to feel like that, I barely knew the man, but part of me felt special when he chose me out of anyone to join his organization. How stupid was that? With a sardonic laugh, I said, “Jealous of what? Because—“ “You weren’t the one who had my hand on your ass, because you wanna be the one grinding on my dick.” He said mockingly, yet in a flirtatious way. As flirtatious as it could be when said in such a vulgar manner, but while I hated it when he said shit like that, I could not ignore the effect it had on me. Why did it make me feel turned on?

“I wish—you, you wish you had your hands all over me.” Of course, I had to fuck up like that, he would not let me see the end of this, but I could still save it, “Maybe that’s why you wanted me to join your ranks? But I fucking dare you to put your hands on me next time, you’ll see what happens.” I could hear him breathe against the microphone, he was doing it again. I forgot he got off on my anger, my frustration, it riled him up in the best ways. “Yeah? What will you do?” He breathed out, he was having fun. I could hear the lazy smile on his lips as he continued, “Because if I see you, it’s just a matter of time before you’re moaning my name. That stupid confidence you have? I’ll fuck it out of you, you’ll be begging for me to let you cum, your legs open wide like your mouth, both aching to be filled with my cock.” He swore under his breath then I heard him groan in pleasure, the sound made me ache, making me undo the knot of my bathrobe and bring my hand to my sex.

The phone was on the pillow right next to my ear, I could hear the wet noises of his hand around his cock making me feel like a voyeur, but I liked it. Repeating his words in my head, I surprised myself by how much I loved the idea of him having me beg in pleasure. Using my fingers exactly how I liked it, I was rubbing myself; it was made easier by how wet I had become because of him. It’s wrong, I thought as I arched my back when I grazed my aching clit, he’s crazy, I reminded myself, but it only made my heart race faster. “Or maybe I won’t need to do that—“ I caught myself off guard by whining when he said that and covered my mouth in the hopes he had not heard me. My cheeks were aflame upon hearing his laugh, “Oh, yeah you’ll just kneel when I tell you to, you’re already so obedient…” He trailed off in a sultry tone, “After all, you shot a man just for me. Shit, what I’d give to fuck you against that railing, your hands gripping that shit like your life depended on it.”

I could feel his hands on my hips, something he had done so many times already—except this time, I wanted it and he wasn’t here to do it. Those hands that were tainted by the sins he had committed, I wanted to taint them myself. I wanted them all over my body, trailing over my skin, his mouth on my neck as he’d slide his fingers inside me, laughing at how desperate I am for him. His cold earring brushing against my skin, making me shiver as he’d bite my shoulder hard, his fingers fucking me as he’d tell me— “Good girl, that’s what I wanna hear, I knew you’d give the best show. I should record those moans of yours.” My eyes flashed open when I realized what I had been doing. It was too late when I understood I had been moaning loud enough for him to hear instead of keeping it in; grabbing the phone, I ended the call in shame and closed my bathrobe as I made my way to the bathroom to wash my hands.

“Fuck, what was that? Why did you do that? Shit, shit, shit, there is no way he’s letting this go.” I mumbled when I dried my hands. Running my hands through my hair, I gripped it tightly at the roots and exhaled in anger, “That’s fucked up, what even got me off in that shit?” Catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror, my hair was disheveled, and I was slightly sweating from the warmth of earlier. Scoffing at the state I was in, I said, “You need fucking help, you need sleep, get a grip.” If my reflection had its own conscience and truly reflected my soul, it’d be smirking at how stupid I looked to then tell me it was too late. Which was true. I was down bad for nothing, the change that bastard had brought in my life felt like a breath of fresh air and part of me was grateful for it, even if that fresh air smelled like iron, rust and gave a metallic taste to the tongue.

It was sick, it was blood and death.

It compelled me to stay.

That feeling scared me and when faced with something that scared me, I wanted to run. Something easy to do when not being pushed around, so I slithered into bed to forget about what happened. Falling asleep was harder than expected, or perhaps I was a fool to think I could have passed out just like that… Whichever it was, it took me more than an hour to fall asleep and even as I did so, Hanma was on my mind. He haunted my workplace, my house and now my dreams. If Hanma was obsessed with me, I don’t know what it said about me to dream of him, but he was never going to know. I was going to ignore him, run his errand and wait until the next one.

That was my determined state of mind when I woke up in the morning, startled by a call from an unknown number. The sun had not even risen, the cold the night had brought in its wake made me too lazy to get out of bed to grab my phone, but when I thought it could be the person for the errand, I rolled out of bed fast to pick up, “Yes?“ “Be out of your house in 30 minutes, someone will come and get you.” Before I could ask anything: the car brand, who I was supposed to wait for, what they looked like—they had hung up. At first, I looked at my phone trying to comprehend what had happened, then the information reached my still half-asleep brain, “30 minutes! What am I even supposed to wear? Is it something official or… is it more of digging a body out of its grave?” I pondered out loud. Since I had no information on whatever I had to do but run an errand, I chose black pants and a black shirt. I had no choice but to put on my usual coat, but I hoped it would not get ruined.

On my way out, my hand hovered over a pair of sunglasses, for anonymity as they would use in movies. It’ll make me look even more suspicious, I’m not taking this. Humming in satisfaction, I looked inconspicuous enough that it could still look like I was going to work or grocery shopping. Both worked, not underdressed or overdressed, just perfect. I made sure to leave my wallet at home, if I were to drop it wherever I was going and leave any proof of who I was it would be fucked. All I had was my phone and winter gloves in my pockets, but I also made sure to tuck the gun in the back of my pants. It felt weird to have this weight, but if it meant I was safer out on that errand, I suppose I could take it.

When I was out in the morning cold, I checked the time and saw I still had 10 minutes left. Deciding to wait outside, I thought I'd check the mailbox to see if I had any mails; after all, that was one more painful thing adulthood brought: bills. There was nothing to pay among my mail, but something was off, a completely blank letter with no recipient nor address from which it came from. It meant someone had dropped it themselves in my mailbox. Hesitantly, I ripped it open and saw a paper on which an address was written, along with a message: “Be at this address at 5PM if you wish to see Hanma alive. Do not tell anyone, do not bring anyone. If we find out someone has been warned, a bullet will be put in his head.” They had underlined a few words on the note to emphasize what I should not do.

I did not have time to read over the letter before a car pulled up to the side of the road. Looking over my shoulder, I folded the paper a few times to shove the small item in my back pocket and hurry to the car. When I tried to open the door, it was locked; I was about to knock on the window when it rolled open and Ran’s head popped from it, “Password?” His face was dead serious, making me panic for a moment. A password? All I had been given were 30 minutes to get ready, they never said I had to give a password. Should I come up with something, should I—“Ran, can’t you see she’s pissing herself?” The mechanical sound of the car unlocking alerted me that I could get in, which I did in the span of a few seconds.

Ran sighed in disappointment on the passenger seat, telling the other man, Rindou was his name if I remembered well, that it was boring. “Yeah, but now you can fuck with her and we can also get to that shitty drop-off, call it productivity.” I did not expect the man to talk like that, he had acted composed the entire time at the warehouse the first time I had met them all. But from what I could see, he was as unhinged as the man by his side. Ran laughed in excitement and rested his elbow on the seat as he looked at me, contorted in a god-awful manner, “Heard ya slept well?” he nodded my way. Unsure if I could joke around with them, I shrugged and kept my eyes on him in case he decided to do anything crazy, “As well as one would when brutally awakened at 5 in the morning…” A barked laugh escaped the braided man’s lips, he threw his head back and nudged the driver’s elbow. “She’ll be useful if we gotta talk with rich people,” Ran then repeated my sentence mockingly, making the other man laugh.

Laughing, Rindou said my name and continued, “What my brother’s saying is that you sure kept Hanma busy this week. Got a liking for criminal dick?” The first thing my body did was tense, then my cheeks burst aflame. I kept my face as emotionless as possible, but it was hard not to feel embarrassed when both brothers burst out laughing at that. With a strong voice I replied, “He’s obsessed with me, but that’s it. Nothing is going on, I am just here to help with whatever you need help with.” Ran smirked as he looked over his seat to give me a wicked grin, “Yeah? And if I need help getting off, will you also call me—“ he could not even finish his sentence that he was laughing his ass off, both him and his brother having too much fun.

I was feeling sick. Maybe because I did not have time to have breakfast, or maybe because I realized privacy was not something that existed in this organization. I would have felt uncomfortable if they had learned things about my past, but this was not my past, it had happened almost a week ago. At least, I hoped they weren’t talking about the events of last night. The mention of Hanma reminded me of the letter and I felt anxious too, but I could not linger on that yet, I had to focus on the errand. Looking off to the window, I scoffed dryly, “Looking like that, I’m sure you’re a regular at the brothel. Ask for your usual whore and she’d be more than happy to help you out, I’ll pass the offer.” The man grinned manically while his brother cackled, pushing him while telling him I wasn’t wrong. Ran’s eyes weren’t leaving mine, I did not know if he was going to beat me up or praise me for making them laugh like that.

Turning my head slowly, I met his gaze and quirked a brow, “Sorry, do you need help getting the brothel’s phone number? Should I make your appointment myself?” Stop talking, they’re crazy enough to crash this car and leave you out there. If you keep roasting them, they’ll—“You’re a funny one,” He stated with a grin, “Don’t know how long you’ll last with a mouth like this, though,” With a onceover, his smile was wicked once more, “But I like you.” Ran said in a lowered tone, one I could almost describe as threatening but the words did not match the tone. Sitting back on his seat properly, he glanced at his brother and said, “Hanma should keep his bitch on a leash cause I don’t mind welcoming strays.”

An unwelcomed shiver ran down my spine once more at the mention of Hanma but also at the vulgar comment of the man. From then on, I decided to ignore whatever they were saying until we reached our destination. It was hard to do so with how loud they were talking so early in the morning, but when I started to doze off, I caught a glimpse of the rising sun. Blinking myself awake I straightened my back and focused back on the road. “Did something keep you awake last night?” Rindou asked sarcastically, making his brother snort a laugh. I didn’t reply, but he did not shut up still, “Shit, Ran, do you think she sexted that fucker all night?” “I’ll bet on phone sex, Hanma loves when they’re vocal-“ Rindou shook his head, pointing at me with his thumb, “That bitch? Isn’t vocal. ‘Hasn’t uttered one fucking word of the whole trip. But you know, it could be a ‘good girl in the streets, freak in the sheets’ kind of situation.” Rindou continued.

As he parked the car, Ran cackled a laugh, “Crazy in the streets, crazy in the sheets. The bitch shot a man, remember that?” Before they could continue talking, I unfastened my seatbelt and tried to open the door to leave but found it locked once more. Sighing in annoyance, I stayed facing the window and waited for them to open but instead they moved on their seat to both look at me. “D’you mind? We’re talking here.” Rindou said with a dead serious face.

“Yeah? But I’m done listening to your assumption on my sex life.” “It’s a debate, woman! It could easily be settled if you told us how you were in bed.” Ran scoffed was a stupid laugh, one that reminded me of Hanma somehow. Looking at them from over my shoulder at first, I scooted back on my seat, the one in the middle and leaned over to both men. They were intrigued for sure, so with a knowing smile I leaned over even more, “Here’s how it is…” before I could say anything, I pressed the button to unlock the car and opened the car door to leave the car rapidly. I slammed it shut behind me and wrapped my coat tight around my form when the cold of the morning hit my skin, it had been so warm inside the car, so warm I was dozing off. Now I was very much awake, hyperaware almost. Two thuds follow when the brothers left the car.

Ran had an extended baton in hand while Rindou simply threw his coat on, not even looking at me. Their mood was very different from the one in the car, their expression was serious- except for the lazy grin adorning Ran’s features. As the man with the purple freed his hair from the collar of his coat, he threw me a glance, “We get in, threaten the guards if they don’t wanna be bribed. While we do that shit, you walk to the back and look through the files for the name Mai Koyuki.” I had heard that name before, but I did not tell them. Instead, I nodded and followed them without a word.

I only now paid attention to the building, it was fairly big but not as big as the firm I worked out. If my memory served me well, this was some sort of building archives- it was confusing to see these sorts of people inside such building, but money was not the only currency. Information was too, which means they would not just rob banks or deal drugs, even if I did not know what they could do with anything on Koyuki Mai- frowning when I had some semblant of coherent thought, I felt arms wrap around my shoulders. Both men had an arm on my shoulder, they tightened their hold and pushed me forward along them, “You look suspicious like that.” Rindou whispered as he stopped by the door and let go of me. Ran’s arm didn’t leave, instead his hand gripped my shoulder as he leaned in, “I told my brother we should have let you do the talking since you’re probably great with your mouth,” Rindou’s laugh made him pause. The purple-haired man was picking the lock of the backdoor while we stood behind him.

“You know, cuz why else would Hanma have chosen you?” Huffing a laugh, I elbowed him in the side and held back a pained moan when he gripped my elbow tight to stop me dead in my initiative. Meeting his gaze, there was a playful gleam to his eyes that seemed familiar but I did not let myself bask in that familiarity, “Ah, that’s why- feisty uh?” When I tried to pry my arm from his hold, he tightened it once more, pulling me to him to grip my chin with force and making me look up at him from an awful angle. His eyes travelled down my body, stopping at my stomach, “Rindou she’s like a toy, look I can make her do whatever I want!” He then turned me around, one hand holding both my hands behind my back while he free hand lifted my shirt slightly, caressing my stomach, “Think she’ll be as good as a whore- Oh?” He stopped everything, making me tense up.

Ran let go of me, pushing me towards the wall and grabbing the gun from my backside as he did so, “What do we have here?” He asked in an intrigued and mocking tone. Glaring at him, I reached for the gun only to have him raised his arm to keep it out of my reach, “What’s the magic word?” “Hand me my gun back, please.” His eyes widened in surprise at first before flashing with something dark, it was gone quickly as he dropped it and let me catch it the best I could. Of course, I almost dropped it, but I managed to hook my finger to the guard and secure it. “How polite? Do you swear or is that against daddy’s rules?” he asked like that a bastard. Simply because I did not play along his stupid childish game.

Noticing Rindou had unlocked the door, I walked past him and instead tucked the gun to my front, covering it with my shirt, “I can absolutely tell you you’re a piece of shit, don’t worry. But you know, maybe having a dad is once thing that differ you and I, uh?” The laugh that escaped his lips was frightening, but once I had stepped inside, I was aware he was going to have to put on his scary underground face on. He was not going to be so openly playful, instead he would turn crazy and insane, something he and Hanma had in common when intimidating people. Although Hanma was probably better at looking serious and normal than Ran, the braided man always had that smile to him that showed he was having fun, fucking around with people. Hanma could almost pass as a businessman.

Feeling myself grow wings, I instigated. “You know Ran, one thing that makes Hanma better than you is that he doesn’t look like a crazy crackhead.” I caught his attention, “It must be the hair,” Gesturing to myself to mimic some braids, I continued, “I’m sure women love pulling on those braids, but I can’t really take you seriously. Imagine the people you’re intimidating?” Before he could reply, his brother placed a hand on his shoulder and pointed at the woman at a desk in front of an elevator.

Both brothers walked there with confidence and were about to flirt, from the expression on their face, but the woman stood up and pointed at the door. I could not hear what she was saying, but seeing Ran’s hand grip the baton tighter, I knew he was losing patience. Rindou glanced my way and gestured for me to come, I rushed hurriedly to their side and kept my mouth shut, only to have the purple-haired man say, “Tell the lady she should cooperate.“ The woman looked at me with wide eyes and caught my gaze, her hand slowly moving on the desk, “Are you here against your will? Are you—“ I felt bad for interrupting her, but I did it and with the most serious and fearless look I could muster, I said, “Let’s raise our hands, shall we?” she did so rapidly, her eyes wide. “We just need one file, you don’t need to know which one, just let us use the elevator and we’ll do all the work.” Her hands were shaking, her eyes glanced at the button under the desk, I knew it was there from working at a lot of high-risk places.

Bumping my foot against Rindou’s, I whispered, “There’s a button, she could—“ he did not let me finish talking before he jumped over the desk and wrapped his arm around the woman's neck, pulling her away from the desk. I stood frozen on the spot when he did so, terrified of what he had done. The woman went limp in his arms, and he made sure to put her on the floor before sitting on her chair and gesturing for me to go on, “The file, come on. We don’t have a lot of time.” Placing my hands on the desk, I climbed on top of it and behind it to reach the elevator, my hand blocking it open. Glancing at him, I saw a little light under the desk and debated for a moment whether to tell them or not, but something in the back of my mind forced me to tell them.

“Still… what will happen if I do fail?”

“They’d probably put a bullet in your head, because you’d be a liability.”

“Guys, she pressed the button. We have, like, 4 minutes at best.” Their eyes widened and for the first time, there was panic in them, for the first time I saw one of those criminals fuck up, lose control of something as simple as getting a file. Thinking for a moment, I knew they could never look like they worked here, they looked like gang members or at least dealers of something. My brain was working so fast I could not hear their interactions, their stressed-out exchange. Probably 3 minutes now, I could pass as someone who works here, I could go downstairs and—“I’ll stay, you two go wait two streets down. I’ll go to the archives and get the file. When the police arrive, I’ll come up and tell them I did not hear anything, you know because I was working downstairs.” They took in consideration the offer, clearly weighing the pros and cons of the situation. I understood why they could be hesitant considering how fresh I was in this organization, but we did not have time. They had to think faster than that.

“Less than 3 minutes, you get out or you get caught for being idiots.“ Ran sighed and looked at me with a wicked grin, “Alright, we’ll get out. But rat us out and I’m not against arson, your house will burn down, yeah?” With a worried look, I nodded and got inside the elevator, watching both brothers walk away. I hurriedly said, “Do something about the cameras!” When the elevator doors closed, I let out a sigh and looked at my shaking hands. I had them tucked inside my pockets the entire time and only now realized the crescent shapes in my palms. “Don’t fuck up, he says. But he didn’t tell me I’d be working with fucking idiots!” I said in panic. When the doors opened again, I quickly browsed the hanging signs to find the letter K then hurried to the aisle in which those files were stashed.

I was used to scanning for mistakes in the field I work in, so it did not take long to find the name Koyuki, but it was not as fast as the police. Once I had the file in hand, I debated folding it or not and with a grimace did just that and tucked it in my back pocket, covering it with my coat. When I got back inside the elevator, I could not hear anything but the humming of the pulley system of the lift. The silence was deafening and made me busy myself by looking back at the letter I had received. From all the rush we had been in I had almost forgotten about that, but now that I was in the safety of the elevator, I swore under my breath. “Since when do criminals get kidnapped? He said he was a wanted man, but not that wanted… Fuck, should I tell someone?” I did not have anyone’s phone number but his, he had made sure to be the only contact I had to this organization. About to reprimand myself for not asking for Kokonoi’s number, the door opened and made me straighten my back only to force myself to look more meek.

It was time for acting, for a change of attitude.

Widening my eyes in surprise, I raised my arms in defense. “Officers? What… what happened?” Glancing at the unconscious woman on the ground, I read the name on her nametag then walked out of the elevator hesitantly. Fully turning around to look at her, I acted surprised, “Nanami?! What happened to her?!” Only your colleague choking her unconscious, nothing much, I told myself sarcastically. “I’m sorry, who are you?” One of the officers asked. Looking at her with worry, I covered my mouth and glanced back at the woman on the floor. “I—I work here, I needed to put something down in the archive, what happened here?!” The officer placed her hands on my shoulders to calm me down. I was more than calm, but if she believed I was panicking it meant I was doing great.

“That’s what we’re trying to find out, we received an alert. It seems your friend pressed the silent alarm.“ “Is she dead?! Please, tell me she isn’t dead, I don’t think I can live with that, I—” covering my mouth, I faked being sick. The officer let go of me and stood aside, from the corner of my eyes I could see Nanami stirring awake. In a rushed course of action, I uttered, “I’m going to be sick, bathroom.” The woman nodded and let me go as I walked quickly to the ‘bathroom’. I remembered the way out and once I made sure no one was walking behind me, I closed the door discreetly and scurried down the street. Don’t act suspicious, look normal, you’re walking fast because you’re late for work, I tried to convince myself. I took the file from my back pocket and unfolded it; whatever it was, I hoped it was worth it for how exposed it made me.

Focused on my walk, I did not see the car of the brothers and was startled by the honking behind me. I gave them a dirty look on my way to the vehicle and was more than happy when the car was unlocked. Getting inside, I threw them the file and fastened my seatbelt. Before they could speak, I gripped the back of each of their seat, “You better tell me you have someone in your fucking gang that knows how to hide a fuck-up, because they know our faces.”

They laughed at that, “Yeah they do, we’ve been on TV many times.”

It put things in perspective and anxiety rose inside me. They didn’t care, they could bribe people to look away, they had the strength to beat people up if they decided to take matters into their own hands and tried to kill them. But I did not. “I still have a non-criminal life, I need whatever camera they have to be out of commission. That’s what I’m good for, I have a normal life, they don’t know who I am! So you need to get rid of whatever—“ “First, you’re not the one giving orders, yeah?” Rindou said, basically telling me to shut up. Doing just that, I pressed my lips shut and clenched my jaw, annoyed at his attitude. “Now, we got this, right?” He showed the file.

“I got this. Because you fucked up.”

“Can I beat her up?” I heard Ran ask Rindou. The purple-haired man, just as annoyed, shook his head and handed him the file. “It’s a team effort, the errand is done. We bring you home, and you let us deal with whatever happened in there however we see fit, understood?” I understood, yes. But I did not like it. Hanma had told me to not fuck up, which I didn’t, but I felt like it did not stop there, like I was still on thin ice even back in the car. It was also about sitting one out, of letting go of your pride and trusting your people, or something like that. With a strained smile, I nodded. “Sure.”

Rindou smiled just as thinly and turned around, starting the car. The car ride was different than when we got here; the brothers were a lot more serious, Ran read out loud the parts of the file he found important, asking for his brother’s opinion. And while I could have been the nosy type and listened in on their conversation, I was on the internet instead, checking the address where I had been told to meet up if I wanted to see Hanma alive. It was not too far from the warehouse in which we had first met, but if what I read was right, the building was abandoned. It was an old factory that had been shut down a few years back for unsafe conditions, the equipment was still there but they never found the time to remove it, which made it even more unsafe to go there.

I was aware it could be a trap and I clearly did not have the upper hand, but what else could I do?

Moreover, why was I so upset, why did I care about his life so much? I could just let him be out there and keep on with my life, if anything it was an opportunity to return to my normal life. So why was I checking the route to get there? Maybe it was actually a prank? I should make sure it wasn’t.

Huffing to myself, I opened my conversation with Hanma and texted him, hoping he’d reply quickly.

Me: Hey, where are you?

I stared at my screen for a moment and when he did not reply right away, I shoved my phone in my pocket and sighed sadly as I got lost in thought, looking at the fast-passing landscape. It made it easier to ignore the conversation happening in the front, it also made time pass fast enough that I was surprised when we had arrived at my house.

Ran turned in his seat and looked at me with a grin, “A pleasure working with you, can’t wait to do it more.” He winked. Rindou joined and turned around too, only half-way, “You’re reliable enough, let’s see how it goes with time, maybe you’ll be less stuck up.” Shaking my head, I pushed the door open and looked back at them with a tired smile, “Had so much fun carrying your asses out there. Crossing my fingers to work with Koko next time.” With that I slammed the door. I could hear the brothers laugh at my words as they opened the window to call out my name. Turning around once I had crossed the road, I waited for them to speak. I did not expect them to be cryptic.

“We’re counting on you!” Rindou said, “Make us proud!” Ran gave me a thumbs up then they drove off, leaving me confused and lost in the middle of the street. Standing there a moment, I then got inside my house and took off my coat to make my way to the kitchen where I started making myself something to eat. As I did so, I still felt off without Hanma’s reply and thought he was just busy and hadn’t seen my message, so I called him.

When I reached the automatic voicemail, I hung up, exhaling in frustration.

“You’re telling me this fucker got kidnapped? How does a member of a powerful organization get kidnapped? Isn’t he like 2 meters tall? That doesn’t make sense!” I exclaimed, feeling the tears of frustration welling up. It was not just because the man wasn’t there that I was crying, it was because of what it entailed. If he was out of the picture, I had no protection, I had no one lenient enough to teach me whatever I needed to survive out there. He had shown me the use of the gun; while Sanzu was getting mad, he was somehow patient, it was sweet. “What did he even do to get kidnapped? Kill people? He probably killed anyone who saw the kill, it doesn’t make fucking sense!” Nor did it make sense for me to shed tears over that bastard, yet here I was.

Yes, here I was, now, gun in my pants, standing in front of an abandoned building, risking my life to save the one of the man that had turned it upside down. What was that routine I was used to? How did he manage to slither his way inside that routine, how did he manage to make me want him in my life? Whatever he had done, it left me standing in front of that factory, ready to do whatever it took to get him back alive.

As I stepped inside, I wrapped my hand around the gun in my back and thought of what Hanma had told me earlier.

“I’m helping you out of your boring life, aren’t I?”

How right he was.

[Part 6]

[ghostietea]

Furuba autistic headcanons

With it being April, or autism acceptance month, I wanted to finally drop my list of characters from Fruits Basket that I read as autistic! This is based a lot on my own experience, as well as that of other autistics I know or have seen talk online. I hope some people can get something out of it, feel free to tell me what you think 😊, though please refrain from getting upset that I would dare suggest your fave is autistic.

Hanajima

Before becoming able to better control her powers, she would be constantly overwhelmed by the things she heard to the point that she couldn't even really go out in public. This reads a lot like sensory overload.

Constantly picked on in school because other kids thought she was weird. Eventually reclaimed this weirdness and turned it into a whole persona.

Seems to talk usually in a relatively flat tone.

Had trouble socializing with no friends outside her family until middleschool.

Has a very funny, dry sense of humor that I find very similar to a bunch of autistics I know, including myself.

Hatsuharu

Listen. You have seen the funky little man, you have seen the way he talks, the way he acts around others. He is, and I mean this in the best way, a weirdo. I do not know how you could look at him and see a neurotypical.

Once again, like Hana, Haru is funny in a way that feels very autistic.

Very flat, dry, tone delivery. Sometimes just Says Things that make everyone else go huh??? Suuuuper blunt. Doesn't emote facially a lot of the time.

When this man sees a social norm he doesn't get he WILL NOT follow it. Pierces his ears just because his hair got flak, defends Momiji wearing whatever he wants because sometimes y'know the social rules are just dumb and don't make sense. Especially dress codes.

Sometimes says things not befitting the current tone of the situation.

Represses (masks) a lot of his emotions, leading to outbursts that seem uncharacteristic.

His main childhood trauma revolves around adults branding him as "dumb" and ridiculing him. Haru, however, is super smart and wise!! Just in an offbeat way that not everyone may get.

Machi

Reads as very "flat" emotionally to the point that others would call her boring. Also has a flat vocal delivery.

Relies on specific habits or ways of doing things or else she gets super upset (her hatred of imperfection.

Has trauma surrounding adults completely misconstruing her intentions and thinking she's doing something malicious when she's not.

Generally behaves in a way that's hard for others to understand, one of her formative moments with Yuki was him saying he wanted to "see how the world looks" through her eyes.

Once again, trouble socializing.

Tries super hard to please her parents but in the end they still see her as somehow inherently "defective."

Listen. A lot of this one and the last two are mostly vibes, hard to verbally define. You just have to look at them and trust me.

Tohru

Displays behavior very reminiscent of masking throughout the story, a huge part of her arc is about how she hides a lot of herself and has a very controlled persona. I think it would fit very well if she had other autistic behaviors that she suppresed also it helps explain why she is relatively socially adept, it's learned behavior to make people like her more.

Yes she is very good at saying what others need to hear, but especially early on she is pretty blatantly imitating her mother's words. She only gets better at getting through on a more personal level later on (see her with Rin and Akito v. early series Tohru). She does this by relating her own experiences, a very autistic way of showing empathy that often gets us written off as self centered. The way she relays things her mom said could also be seen as this, and she even worries at a few points that she's being insensitive for going on about things like that.

While emotionally repressed she is hyper empathetic and feels other's emotions so strongly she cries.

Her speech patterns are all imitated from her father and she often copies verbal things from others (see Ritchan-san). Noted in canon that people think her way of speaking is slightly off/not befitting of someone her age. Additionally, her father was polite more sarcastically, while she plays it straight and sometimes takes things very literally or fails to get the message, indicating trouble with reading tone. Has numerous strange verbal tics, including saying parts of her internal monologue out loud without context.

Very expressive with her hands including waving them around and flapping them up and down.

Does have a bit of trouble with accidental insensitivity in social interactions, like how she constantly fixates on her mom and realizes that might bug the Sohma.

Has trouble paying attention in school since it doesn't have much to do with her interests

Her only friend until she was a middle schooler was her mom

Has a pretty unique outlook on things compared to others, people seem to think she's pretty eccentric. There's always a "this girl is nice but in an odd way, she's our weirdo and we love her" vibe.

Sometimes has an "inappropriate" emotional response to situations

Has a lot of trouble with change, similar to Akito. Which oh, look at the time, next hc coming up.

But first, a disclaimer. It is cathartic for me to read Akito this way, but with that reading comes the baggage that she would, mayhaps, be showing a more negative side of things... It doesn't bother me since it's a joint hc with other characters and she does develop at the end but yeah, general villain hc baggage. This is in no way me trying to excuse her being The Worst being autistic doesn't absolve you of being able to do wrong . Also, a lot of these points can and do have other explanations related to her upbringing, but things can be for more than 1 reason. With that said, she really strongly comes off as autistic to me, in a way that's sorta hard to explain. I wrote a lot more for her than the other, both because I felt I needed more to convince people and that this headcanon was more sensitive and I needed to be careful in my explanation. Also hey! She's my special interest within a special interest.

Akito

Shown to have a dislike of summer weather due to heat and brightness, could be due to sensory issues in tandem with sickness things. Also covers her ears when people raise their voice sometimes which is partially her trying to shut down opposition but also 🤔 can read a different way. She'd also avoids louder Juuni like Ritsu and Ayame because she can't handle them.

Wears pretty much the same outfit every single day. Said outfit is also pretty loose fitting.

Always seen sitting in a pretty unconventional way. Evidence:

Of course this is also the isolated in a cult thing and there is a level of her purposefully doing things to intimidate but: doesn't follow a lot of social rules (overly touchy with strangers, legit doesn't get that what she's doing is wrong, ect.). Repeatedly confused when people indicate she should act otherwise without explanation. Has a breakdown when this comes to a head and approximately says that "they" shouldn't expect her to know "common sense" if "they" never explained it to her, that the way that she was was her "common sense."

Often talks in a way uncharacteristic of her age when shown as a child in a more faux mature/pretentious way. Might just be the translation and idk how to explain it but her speech as an adult also seems off from what one would normally use in conversation. Additionally, when she tries to fake being friendly in her intro chapter, it comes of as extremely stiff and unconvincing.

Generally displays behavior that could be thought of as childish as an adult, but a lot of this behavior could also read as autistic (covering ears, emotional deregulation and meltdowns, ignorance of basic social norms, ect.). It's also important to note that she knows that this behavior makes her seem younger and more helpless to the older zodiac and uses it as a manipulation tactic. Has issues regarding people treating her like a child or only hanging out with her because of pity. While she does weaponize it, we can tell that this grates on her, as seen with her finally blowing up on Kureno, which is partially triggered by the maids saying some sorta infantalizing stuff about her. Irl, a lot of autistic adults and teens struggle with being infantalized for our behavior generally or treated as little babies that can do no wrong. Even in fandom, you see people doing stuff like jumping to call autistic adult characters, such as Entrapta from Shera, "minor coded." It is also common for us to have at least one bad experience with someone hanging around us out of pity. This is something that really gave me a similar feeling in Akito's arc. She's not a baby and she can understand and do better if she is given the chance to learn and break from all the freaky cult indoctrination she's been subjected to instead of just being constantly enabled. In the end, a lot of her growth is represented by her showing that she is capable of changing and being independent.

Shows particular difficulty with socialization, often sits by herself spacing out at social events. A lot of her fear is rooted in the fact that she doesn't know how normal relationships work, becoming overly reliant on the curse because she doesn't know how to make friends.

Clings desperately onto the notion of being "special" and in some way superior to others to be worthy and to make up for perceived inherent "flaws." It's the nd gifted kid burnout vibes for me.

Easily bothered by things that don't bother others. Feels emotions very strongly to the point of getting physically ill and has bad emotional regulation.

Relatively good at reading others in an analytical sense (though has more trouble when it comes to seeing how they feel about her since she's wildly delusional) but brings up her observations in a very cold, detached way and hurts people even on the rare occasion she didn't mean to. Has extreme trouble connecting to others and understanding their point of view. This makes her come off as pretty unempathetic even though that might not fully be the case. Also thinks that people like Momiji are trying to look down on her when they try to empathize with her. A lot of why Tohru can get through to her is that she manages to convince Akito that she's not condescending by relating shared traits and experiences. As I said earlier, autistics often empathize by sharing their own experiences with someone, and I know I often have an easier time confiding in other autistics because of a fear of being seen as lesser by those that don't understand me. I think the connection between these charachters and the way that Tohru manages to reach Akito like that while others couldn't makes a lot of sense through an autistic lense!

Additionally, when Akito herself gets around to trying to help others instead of just projecting trauma, she tries to reach out to the old maid by relating back to her own experiences. This however, doesn't work.

Has "cold" emotional reactions sometimes even to things that do make her upset. For example, how sort of calm and detached she acted after her father's death can make her seem uncaring. However, we know that this event did mess her up a lot and she is still (poorly) dealing with a lot of grief from the death of her father years later.

Copies mannerisms from others, the most blatant example is with Ren, who she directly parrots lines from as a child to Yuki.

Partly just her posturing, but gestures a lot with her hands when she talks. Also seen several times clutching her hands in her hair.

Deals extremely poorly with the idea of things changing to the point that it is a driving force of the story.

Does not understand when people tease her.

Ect. Ect. Ect. Listen, I could go on for ages but just trust me, the mean gremlin lady is autistic.