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0xstarzx0 · 7 months

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DARK RED PT2

Rafe Cameron S3x Reader

{OPEN COMMAND}

[English is not my native language❗️❗️]

synopsis: 2 months after her abduction, the life Y/N had hoped for is not at all what she wanted.

tw: mention of murder, blame for the victim, domestic violence, violence, rejection, insult.

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[PT1]

You and your family had been living in Guadeloupe for two months.

Everything had gone back to the way it was, Bland and sad.

despite the fact that you and Rafe lived under the same roof, he was always busy. He only saw you very rarely, in the evening when you are waiting for him to brush your teeth and sleep, when he wakes you up because he is in you or when he decides to eat with you and his family.

Anyway, Rafe had to take care of his family again, and you hated Ward for it.

Rafe was a boy who always needs to prove that he can do better than others. If he has to kill himself at work, of course he will.

And because of that you and Rafe were arguing several times. Rafe didn’t want to take time for you and you, you didn’t want Rafe to stay all day until 11:00pm in his office.

You would often end up crying or Rafe would fuck you for hours and hours. Forcing you to apologize in his place because of the overstimulation.

________________________________________

Tonight was no exception, you and Rafe had argued the night before, you cried all night in silence, Rafe had been asleep for a long time when you were asleep.

You were sitting on the bed when you waited for him to finish his job. He came into my room and went straight to the bathroom to brush his teeth, you followed him. Starting only your skin care for the night.

He brushed his teeth and didn’t tell you, he didn’t even look at you. You wanted to cry but you held back.

You started taking out your skincare products when a hygienic protection package appeared in your field of vision.

Your blood is cold and you haven’t moved for a few seconds, the package was closed.

Normally a closed protection package was nothing. The only problem was the fact that since you arrived, you only bought one package.

It means that since you’ve been here, you haven’t had your period. You’ve come out of the bathroom in the direction of bed.

You climb on your side and crawl to Rafe. "Rafe..?" you ask hesitantly. Rafe doesn’t move, he seems to be asleep. You give him a little pat "Rafe..?". He doesn’t move.

you repeat your gestures until he starts moving. He turns around and slowly opens his eyes.

"What, what is it?" He says half asleep with a slight hint of annoyance. "I-I.." You look for your words. Rafe gets angry. He talks aggressively "I want to sleep. Don’t bother me."

"Rafe.. I have..". you look for words not to disturb him. He remains angry "What? What do you want? Go say it fast!"

"When’s the last time we fucked without protecting us?". You start shaking when her eyes pierce you. You weren’t afraid of him until you understood that the pogues didn’t lie, he really killed Peterkin.

Rafe’s eyes darken. He gets angry. "What do you mean, when we’ve been fucking without protecting ourselves? You’re not pregnant, are you?" he asks you not to scream.

You lower your head, avoiding his gaze. "I haven’t had my period since we got here"

Rafe puts his hands in front of his eyes, he always does that when he’s stressed or about to explode. And you didn’t think it could be stress? Maybe that’s why you’re late. You want to yell at him, you want to insult him.

You’re still not looking at him.

"If you hadn’t kidnapped me at the same time, I wouldn’t be stressed…"You whisper so he can’t hear you. You don’t want him to yell at you.

He approaches you. He gets angry. He speaks just below the scream. "I made the right decisions. I saved you from trouble. I gave you the freedom you want." You look up and look him straight in the eyes, "You gave me the good life? Rafe? Are you serious? You no longer speak to me, no longer look at me and you come to see me only when you are lacking!" You start to raise the tone

He grabs the back of your head and puts his hand on your mouth to silence you "I swear to God, if Wheezie or Rose gets up to see what’s going on, I’ll kill you." He says eyes filled with hate.

You are afraid and begin to tremble even more, panic takes you, and that he understands quickly. Your eyes are flooded with water making your vision blurred.

He lets go and goes back to sleep. You lie next to him and keep crying in silence, you miss your family and if you had gone with the pogues, would you be happy?

______________________________________________

You didn’t sleep all night. When Rafe got up, you pretended to sleep.

He brought you closer to him and hugged you before kissing you on top of your head. One of the rare times you felt like he still loved you.

When he left, you started crying again.

When you got up, you stayed until 10 am in bed, you had traces in the corners of your eyes and you had no desire to get up.

You did it anyway, you washed up, made up and came down, Wheez is with Ward, Rose has to drink and Rafe had to be in his office.

You went into the lobby where Rafe’s things are. You started looking for $30 in his wallet. "What are you doing?" You jump and freeze instantly.

Rafe had his arms crossed, he was standing behind you. You got up fast and he looked at you all the way up with a suspicious face.

"It’s none of your business." You say with a hint of annoyance. He frowns and grimaces. "So you’re stealing money from me and it’s none of my business?" " I wasn’t stealing from you-" He cuts you off and walks away from you. " It’s normal because I made sure I didn’t have any cash." He says it made sense.

You open your mouth in amazement, he thinks you’re a thief. "But maybe you’re looking for this?" He pulls out his credit card. You try to take it from him, but he put it in the air. "Tell me why you need it and I might give it to you?" he shrugs.

You lower your head and start playing with your hands. "I need it to buy a pregnancy test." You say to a barely audible voice. Rafe leans over you, he pulls your face up so it’s in front of yours. "Sorry I didn’t hear, you need it for?" his eyes shrinking.

"Rafe I need it to buy a pregnancy test." You say loud enough. Rafe freezes and gives you a bad look." I told you it was just stress, don’t get paranoid about it." He gets straight, turns his back on you and starts leaving.

You start following him, begging him to give you his card. "Rafe I just want to be sure! You understand that?" You say half crying. "I understand you love, just realize how miserable you look?" He says disgusted.

You stop talking and he goes on. "You tried to steal money from me, and then you tried to trick me into saying you want to take a pregnancy test but you really just want to steal me and then go find another guy, right?"

"You know it’s miserable what you’re doing, right?" He approaches you and you start crying, "it’s not that Ra-" "shhht" he gently puts his hand on your neck, he forces you to put you on tiptoe.

"If you try to betray me or even lie to me, I will not be as forgiving as before." He kisses you and you feel the tears running down your cheeks. He lets go and leaves.

Your crying is so intense that your breathing becomes unstable. Rose arrives in the living room and sees you, she puts her glass and runs towards you. She takes you directly in a hug. She tries to calm your breath and little by little she gets there.

Rose asks you what happened and you explain the situation to her. When you’re done, she leaves without telling you anything, she comes back with two $20 bills. "Buy yourself the best tests." That’s all she tells you.

You take them and take her one last time in your arms before leaving.

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You found a small grocery store, there were different types of tests. To be sure of the result, you took three and paid them.

At night when you came home, no one was expecting you. You went upstairs to the bathroom you share with Rafe and did a first test.

You waited 15 minutes, once it was over the result was ready. You took a deep breath and watched the test.

You thought your world was going to collapse under your feet, you were barely 18 years old and you were already expecting a child.

You threw the test in the trash and rushed to do another one. You waited another 15 minutes and again, it was positive.

How are you going to deal with a baby? You’re not sure if you survive here so how do you deal with a child?

You thought about trying to stay calm, for you one thing was certain, you had to tell Rafe. You took the test and with a little confidence you went to Rafe’s office.

You came in and Rafe was there, head in piles of paper with his computer next to him.

You put the test on the piles and he stopped writing. He raised his head and you tried to keep calm.

He looked at the test again and went into his chair. He looked at you and said nothing. "Where did you get the money?" He asked you looking into your eyes. "Rose." He shrugged his shoulders. Is that his reaction?

"That’s your reaction, don’t you have anything to say?" you ask, you start getting angry.

He looked at you with disdain. "I should have another one when you’re not going to keep it?" You frown. Who said you weren’t going to keep it. "I never said that," you say. "So you’re going to keep it?" he asks with irritation.

You start staring at the point, yes you want to keep it, but on the one hand you’re scared, and if you were a bad mother. You can’t think any more because Rafe is waiting for your answer, the longer it takes you to make him understand something you don’t want.

"Yes" Rafe seemed shocked. "No." He said.

You open your eyes wide. "I beg your pardon?"

"You’re not going to babysit this kid." He says like he’s the one who’s pregnant.

"I wouldn’t have an abortion." You say clearly, Rafe’s laughing. "You know you don’t have to, getting him adopted is a good option." He says it makes sense.

"There is no question of strangers taking my baby!" You scream, Rafe gets up from his chair. " Oh well? So who will do it, You? You don’t even have the means to do it? You don’t have a job and you live on the hook of your boyfriend who also owns the child."

You put your hands on your face. "So I live on your hooks?" You look at it before eyes full of hate. "What do you call that?" He asks you.

You shake your head and walk out of his office, slamming the door. You head to your room. Once inside you take the suitcase under the bed, open your wardrobe and start throwing your stuff in.

Rafe shows up in the room when you’re closing the suitcase. "What are you doing?" He says angry holding back not to scream.

"I decide not to live on your hook anymore, so I’m out of here." You say then that tears flow at a crazy speed on your cheeks.

Rafe laughs nervously. "No." He says. You grab the suitcase and start walking out of the room. What you didn’t expect was for Rafe to grab you violently by your waist making you scream.

"Fucking let go of me!" you’re screaming." Shut the fuck up, you really think after everything I’ve done you’re gonna break down like that with my kid?" Rafe goes crazy.

He pushes you violently away from the door and you fall to the ground. I’ve been busting my ass giving you a dream life all this so you decide to fuck everyone up " he bends over and grabs your jaw firmly . " Go away" you scream, both hands start scratching his arm. He yells at you and throws all the worst insults in the world, and you cry and insult him.

You get cut off when someone knocks on the door asking to come in, Rafe lets go and you run into the bathroom. Rose talks to Rafe and gets even more upset.

Rose leaves and Rafe starts knocking at the door asking you to open it, the only thing he hears are your uncontrollable crying.

Rafe stayed at the door for more than an hour, you did not open to him because you knew two things, first, if you went out you would probably have forgiven him what he just did to you because you love him despite what he makes you live and secondly, You were paralyzed by the fear he gave you.

That night, you slept on the cold tile in the bathroom.

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Despite your love for Rafe, you had no desire to end up like Peterkin, so you waited.

You waited a few weeks for Rafe to forget everything that happened. Rafe had to leave a few days to see a potential buyer for the cross.

And thanks to that, you were able to run away. Rose of course helped you, she gave you money and paid you a boat ticket and a plane ticket. You couldn’t go back to the Outer Banks. Illinois seemed perfect. You never told Rafe, so how could He suspect anything?

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[PT3]

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bunny-lily · 3 months

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Tether Me - Chapter 5: Part 1

Pairing(s): Geto/Gojo/Reader Summary: Right in the middle of you savoring the beverage and scrolling aimlessly through your phone, a piece of paper was suddenly smacked down onto the wood in front of you. You paused mid-sip and looked at it blankly, then traced the source of its origin up to Satoru’s gleaming, boyish grin. When had he let himself in?

You raised a curious brow at the man, finishing your gulp. “What’s this?”

“That, sweet girl, is a wedding invitation,” he declared with all the vigor of a show host announcing the spoils the victor had attained, “and you’re gonna be my plus-one.”

Your other brow lifted to match the first. “Eh? Since when?”

The sun is warm today.

It coats the exposed stretches of skin on your arms and legs in a cozy, yellow glow. Shadows from the leaves dancing on the branches of the tree behind you cast across your face, splotches of blueish-gray that provide a hint of coolness on your relaxed posture.

The sky is your favorite shade of teal, with fluffy, white clouds spread across it far and wide, forming funny shapes and animals that only you can discern. There’s a bunny-looking one that you’ve been following for a while now, watching as it extends its legs while bounding lazily across the eonic, untold cyan. You’ve named it Marshmallow for its resemblance to those bird-shaped, sugar-coated treats.

Which doesn’t really make sense, but you don’t care all that much. It makes sense to you.

So far, the story you’ve created about Marshmallow is simplistic, but it’s giving you something to do. Marshmallow is frollicking in a massive meadow, running around between tall stalks of indigo grass and snowy flowers. She’s celebrating her freedom after escaping the maws of a vicious wolf, bouncing back and forth in joy as she claims the sky as her home, where no wolf can catch and eat her so long as the sun shines through the heavens.

There, she is safe to chirp and thump her little feet and fly as much as she desires, no longer fearing being trapped in the muzzle of a hungry beast.

In the far distance, you can see a smear of dark gray hugging the horizon. It’s not close enough for you to fathom how big it is, but you can tell by the streaks underneath it that it’s raining over there. The flowers will be happy, you think. Fresh water to help their roots spread and their petals bloom.

You like days like this, where it’s quiet and calm. Birds spring from the electricity cables spanning down the length of the street, a bug occasionally buzzes past you, and the air smells sweet.

Your legs swing back and forth lazily over the short, cement-brick wall in front of your house. The light stone is brisk under your palms, a comfort in the burn of summer. You’ve already had a crisp icy-pop earlier, but now you’re uncertain if you should have saved it, as the temperature has gone up quite high.

It’s peaceful out here, but, confessedly, incredibly boring.

Yet, you savor it all the same. Anything is better than being in there, where your heart rarely has a chance to settle, always tapping on your veins to keep them active and roaring with blood laced too heavily with poisonous adrenaline. It’s nice to have an opportunity to rest and relax, a rare moment of serenity, even if you do feel a little lonely.

Glass shatters somewhere behind you. Skin meets skin.

You wince.

The world grows a little more dim. The bunny splits in half.

Tranquility can only last for so long under the richly fragrant blooms of the Callery pear hiding you from the sight of those within the house.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, woman!?”

You stand up slowly, your fingers already growing jittery as you brush off the dirt and prickling twigs that dug imprints into the backs of your thighs. The heat no longer bothers you.

“Can’t you do anything right!? Can’t even get me a fuckin’ beer! You’re useless!”

“I’m–”

They left the kitchen window open again, the mesh serving to let air in while keeping insects out. It does nil to block sound.

“This is the one fuckin’ time I get a goddamn break from supporting this fuckin’ family, and this is how you repay me? By droppin’ my goddamn bottle of beer?”

You’re scared. You don’t know why you are, he always gets like this. He’s always yelling.

You think you’re used to it by now, you try to tell yourself that you are, but your heart still pounds uneasily in your chest. It feels like there’s ice in your veins, prickling and spreading frostbite in tiny kitten nips. It spreads to your stomach, growing heavy and sinking lower and lower, steel through honey.

You hate being scared. It makes you feel sick. You wish you didn’t have to be afraid anymore.

“I’m out there, breakin’ my back every damned day for you and that stupid brat–” you flinch, “workin’ my hands to the bones, and all I want is a drink to wind down after a long day of work.” It’s midday on a Saturday. He woke up an hour ago. “I ask my lovely, darlin’, sweet little wife to get me a beer, and what does she do?”

You think you can hear a woman mumbling something, but it’s hard to make out over the man’s screams.

He bangs his fist on the laminated kitchen counter, by the sink. Metal utensils stored to dry clink against each other from the force. “Answer me, woman!”

“You…bumped…accident–”

“Speak up!”

“Y-You bumped into–”

“Oh, so, now you’re goin’ off and blamin’ me?”

A sob. “It was an accident.”

“It’s always a fuckin’ accident with ya, ain’t it? Always forgettin’ shit, always lazy, always so clumsy. All you women are incompetent. Can’t even get me a damn drink without wastin’ my hard earned money. The money that supports your livelihood, by the way.”

There’s a hiccuping sound, followed by another bang on the counter.

“Now you’re throwin’ hysterics! You ungrateful whore, fuckin’ manipulative bitch, usin’ crocodile tears. I’ve been so kind, so patient, so lenient with you,” you tried to count the bruises he left on her one time, but you lost track after thirteen. “But, you’re just so fuckin’ spoiled, yeah? Damn hag. It’s ‘cause of me you get to sit your pretty ass at home all the time and do nothin’ all damn day while I’m out there, breakin’ myself for a useless bitch of a wife.”

Your nails dig into the tree’s bark for support. A white petal twists and ebbs as it falls from a flower above, landing on your shoulder.

She’s silent beyond short gasps of air and phlegmy sniffles. A stifled choke here and there.

“Don’t ignore me, bitch,” he hisses, then groans in defeat, as if he is choosing to surrender and indulge her. “Agh, it’s pointless, you’re too fuckin’ stupid to understand. You damn women are always so fuckin’–”

He says a word that makes you cringe horribly.

The heavy stomping of boots follows his tantrum, then there’s complete stillness. You wait outside for a long time, hesitating. You want to go to the woman, to comfort her despite your young age and inherent naivety.

You startle out of your skin when you hear the screechy garage door open and hare around the bulking trunk of the tree to hide behind it. Your back presses into the rough material, breaths barely filling your lungs before they’re pushed out again. Your skin crawls at the subdued sounds of the man’s mad ramblings, too indistinct for you to make out.

His tone tells you enough. It tells you he’s angry, and that he’s saying a lot of bad words that you’re not allowed to say.

Bad words hurt people, baby.

As hidden as you can manage to be, you peer around the calleryana, grimacing at the loud, metallic thump of his car door slamming shut. You watch as the contraption, old with time and lack of maintenance – ‘It’s vintage,’ he slurs, bragging about the red machine like a proud father that treats it better than he treats his own teeth. Better than he treats you. – coughs and rattles down the short length of the driveway.

It turns along the curb, twisting ‘til its nose faces your direction. You jolt back out of sight.

You’ve always despised the sound it makes, the horrid noise passing by you and growing quieter as the car chugs down the gray asphalt. Like a dying goat. Or, cats yowling as they tear into each other in the dead of night. Jarring and uncomfortable, instilling a sense of dread in you.

You wait for a long time like this, staring blankly at the end of the street, holding your breath. You wait for the car to reappear at the turn, to come back no sooner than it had gone. You wait for him to loop the neighborhood.

If he’s in the same mood, or worse, who knows what could happen. Maybe, he’ll have the courage to pull the trigger and end it all with a swift right hook this time.

Minutes or hours later, the street remains empty, and you exhale the breath you’ve been holding, allowing yourself to cautiously hope he won’t return for a while.

Itchy imprints are left on your palms, the backs of your arms, and upper back as you peel away from the tree and sneak across the yard to the rear of the house. Even though he’s not here anymore, you still walk on your tip-toes and avoid stepping on sticks or leaves.

The backdoor is open. It leads into the living room, with the kitchen doorway on your right. From this angle, you can see the fridge and sink. The cup holding the clean utensils has been knocked over.

You walk forward and turn left, instead. You stick to the walls, where the wooden floor doesn’t creak as loudly, and make your way to the bathroom. The light flickers on, struggling for a few seconds. Its orange illumination is dim and makes you nauseous.

You pull out the stool from the cupboard under the sink and pop it flat, then climb on top to reach the mirrored cabinet above the faucet. It’s a singular, fluid action; a habit, muscle memory honed over time.

You pry open the semi-shiny, scratched panel and dig around through the mess of products inside. You push aside aftershave, old tubes of half-used creams, rusted safety razors, and bottles of miscellaneous concoctions that intrigue and scare you in equal measure.

You collect the needed items, stacking a stocky, dark bottle of hydrogen peroxide, cotton pads, knock-off antibiotic gel, and bandages into your arms. It’s not as heavy or hard as it used to be, and you don’t forget anything after so much practice.

Hopping off the stool, you shuffle your way to the kitchen.

From the doorway, you can see the woman sitting on one of the dining chairs, partially facing you. Her face is in her hands. Her shoulders tremble with mute weeping. There’s green glass and something wet spilled across the floor.

You’re careful to mind your step and veer around it.

If she’s aware of your presence, she doesn’t react, and says nothing. She doesn’t lift her head as you wriggle your gathered spoils onto the table, diligent in making sure none fall off. She doesn’t make any noise as you pull out a chair beside her and hoist yourself onto it. She’s eidolic as you sort the items around into a neat order for easy access.

She only responds when you reach a small hand forward and curl it around her wrist. Your fingers barely reach halfway.

“Mama.”

Her movements are lethargic, tired. She lowers her hands sluggishly and looks up at you, but she has that far-away glaze over her eyes. She’s staring at your face, but her mind is a million miles away, unseeing.

You learned it was useless to try and bring her back to earth when she’s drifted so far off. So, you don’t bother attempting. Not anymore.

There are a couple cuts on her face, one stretching diagonally under her left eye, and one curving from the right side of her chin to partially underneath it. A bruise is swelling along her temple, and an old ring of claw marks adorns her throat like a necklace. Dried tear tracks mar her visage, eyelids puffy and scleras red. He was forgiving this time.

She lets you guide her palms down to rest on her lap. Her muscles don’t twitch as you dampen a pad with hydrogen peroxide and delicately begin dabbing it on the wounds to clean them. The blood, no longer beading and trickling, fizzles under the influence of the solution. You take care to not get any loose fibers caught in the new injuries.

It was nice of him to leave the ones that are still healing alone. He isn’t always this kind.

You’re too focused on your work to notice when your mother comes back to herself. The fog over her irises lifts, replaced with a glassy sheen, but no tears remain to fall.

She looks a lot like you, just older, and fatigued. Faint scars linger and taint her sullen expression. Her eyes are sunken, cheeks hollow. Your eyes are the same color, as is your hair. Your upper lip follows the same curve hers does.

The only difference is your age, what you’ve been through.

Your bruises, along your limbs, weren’t caused by him.

You stopped asking questions a long time ago, too. Around the same time she stopped physically showing any sort of pain or discomfort she might experience from you taking care of her. You smear a thin layer of the gel over the cuts, capping the tube.

As you’re reaching for the bandages, she suddenly grasps your wrists, spooking you.

“Promise me, baby,” she urges you frantically, voice low. Like she’s afraid he’ll hear her, even though he isn’t home anymore. “Promise me you’ll never let a man tie you down.”

You gaze at her – at the shallow cuts on the side of her chin and under her eye, the rapidly swelling bruise on her jaw, the spot forming on her temple – and nod once. It’s not a difficult choice. Hell, you don’t have to think about it to agree.

All you’ve ever known about love is that it does nothing but hurt those who experience it.

All you’ve ever known about love was taught to you by fists and shouts.

All you’ve ever known about love was that it would break you, like it broke her, if you let yourself fall to it.

Wordlessly, you swear you’ll never end up like your mother.

Audibly, you seal the vow.

“I promise, mama.”

─────•(-•ʚɞ•-)•─────

It’s cold outside.

The sun hid behind the wide expanse of ashen-gray clouds that painted the sky a new color, one of mottled Nile lily and argent. You could make out shallow waves and hills in the skyline, but not much else, the world washed in desaturated periwinkle.

It made for a great environment for pondering.

Months had already gone by since you made your vast move to this quaint little stead, all in the blink of an eye. It was nice; peaceful. The routine you'd built up kept where no other had before, and instead of boredom and mundanity, or the anxiety that came with getting too comfortable, you were enjoying yourself.

You were content.

In the mornings, you'd eat breakfast with Satoru and oftentimes Suguru, then continue the well-proceeding renovations on your house. In the afternoons you'd work at Granny’s shop, and your nights were free. Usually you'd either go to the park for a while, hang out with your friends, or go straight to either Suguru’s or Satoru's house.

Geto-mama and Geto-papa took a particular liking to you and enjoyed having you over. You learned very quickly where Suguru got his spice tolerance from, the pair of parents being worse than him in overusing various pepper seasonings.

His parents were also ridiculously tall, especially his mother, who stood toe-to-toe with Suguru himself. He was the spitting image of her.

You underestimated how much Geto-mama liked plants until she sat your pretty ass on the armchair in her living room, threw a blanket over your legs, and proceeded to whip out decades’ worth of knowledge on all kinds of husbandry.

Which, actually, was very entertaining and engaging, with plenty of hands-on activities. You were now the proud mother of a cardboard egg carton full of itty bitty forget-me-nots.

When she told you that she was a kindergarten teacher, it all added up.

She was a blast to listen to, every conversation with her energetic and fun. You had a great time everytime you hung out with each other, leading you to frequently exchange flower and vegetation pictures with her over text. She had some shockingly hilarious husbandry memes, and you’d never seen Suguru come close to pouting before he learned you texted with his mom more than you did him.

Sure, it was barely a downward twitch of his lips, but he looked so much like a wounded puppy that you had to fix the situation ASAP.

Which meant texting his mother in secret.

His father was vastly different from his mother. The silent type who didn’t speak much, spending most of his free time sitting on the couch, filling out crossword or sudoku puzzles featured in the weekly newspaper.

You chalked him up to be the type to emotionally close himself off, until you saw him embracing his wife while she cooked, face buried against the crook of her neck while she rambled his ear off about anything and everything.

You picked up on how he followed her around soon after that, always trailing after her around the house, lamb and shepherd.

They shared more similarities than you initially caught. He was a teacher, too – a professor of ethics at the nearby college, specifically. Though he wasn’t talkative, he made for fascinating and thought-provoking conversation when he was in the mood to chat.

Suguru was a lot like his dad, you concluded, based on careful examination of the way they interacted with others and the world around them. They were both the wordless protector types, speaking more in gentle touches, subtle expressions, and words of affirmation than with open, boisterous actions. They were observant and highly aware of the emotions of others, and acted well on them.

Which is to say, they could both read you like a book. They knew when you were thirsty or hungry before you did. You weren’t as close to Geto-papa, but despite his quiet nature, he made it clear to you that you could go to him for anything.

Unlike them, Satoru was nothing like his dad.

You met Gojo-sama once, and wanted to keep it at only once if you could help it.

He wasn’t necessarily rude or anything, quite the opposite. He was polite, courteous, and respectful.

Problem was, he scared the absolute bejeezus out of you.

He carried this constant aura of authority with him everywhere he went, stern and straightforward to a fault. Where Ijichi was a trembling mess in front of Satoru, he went ramrod straight when in Gojo Saichi’s presence. He turned himself into a statue, and you couldn’t discern if it was from fear or great reverence, because Gojo-sama was quite kind to him, all things considered.

You were still spooked by the man, though, and preferred to avoid him. Lucky for you, he more-or-less lived in a town a few hours away, far enough to need to take the train, as he was busy working.

The only person you’d seen him cower before was Granny, as she apparently also knew him since he was younger. Whatever that woman was built of, you wanted it.

One day, sometime in late summer, you broke the golden rule of avoiding the park on Thursday nights and very quickly found out why Aoi and her boyfriend fucked there. They went at it like rabid animals – hell, you thought they were animals at first. Then, you saw a bit more ass than you were bargaining for and bolted out of the park, swearing to avoid the bushes they had chosen to desecrate at all costs.

You had come to know most of the more commonly seen townsfolk by name now, but that was about it. You were still introverted, after all. Everyone outside your group was an acquaintance, generally. You knew some people better than others, whether by intention (Granny, Shoko, Utahime) while others not so much (Aoi's boyfriend’s ass), but that was fine.

You sighed softly as you watched lilliputian snowflakes drift past the window of Granny’s shop, your chin propped up on your palm. They stirred and danced, waltzing with one another, then came to rest on the ground.

It wasn’t cold enough for them to stick – winter in this part of Japan was fairly mild – but it was alluring nonetheless.

You couldn’t remember the last time you stopped everything to just…observe. You hardly had enough time to settle and let your lungs fully fill to admire the scenery anywhere else you went. A shame and a waste, you knew that. Some of the places you drifted to were revered for their natural beauty, or hypnotic architecture, or lively communities.

You’d be lying if you said you went to them with the first two in mind. Mainly, you drifted towards densely packed locations. The more people, the more sounds, the less you were able to hear your own thoughts. Clubs, dating apps, friend groups full of names you would never remember, nothing worked.

Being unable to think left you feeling like your sanity was being torn apart by ragged, filthy nails. It made you want to rip into your own skull to wrench out the obnoxious fucking buzzing. At first, you thought there wasn’t enough noise, that the rattling was a result of there being too much room in your cranium that let things clatter about.

Living above subs and stumbling your way into various parties, drinking your weight in liquor until you couldn’t think at all, making out with someone knowing that you wouldn’t be able to handle anything more than light petting, nothing sufficed.

It’s possible you moving to such an isolated valley wasn’t such a difficult thing to believe. Something, something, insanity.

The passage of time seemed nonexistent here. When you arrived, you were slipping into summer, battling the hellish heat under the AC at Suguru’s house blowing on full blast, prancing in the river with Satoru, and now it was snowing. It felt like only yesterday, or at most before yesterday, you had arrived.

The memory of your first night on a floor you couldn’t believe you actually slept on in hindsight was so distant, yet merely a few hours back on the clock of your mind.

Intrusive thoughts – the same that told you to stab your hand, jump off a cliff, fantasize about your worst fears and subsequently having panic attacks because of it – persisted. Hard habits to kick, but they were significantly quieter nowadays. Further spaced out, too.

The voice of the demon clinging to your cervical spine, the one that urged you to run like your feet were on hot coals, had all but gone mute. Sometimes you got the thought, but it was more reflex than anything else.

Maybe, just maybe, you found where you were supposed to be.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Granny’s calm voice roused you from your reverie, drawing your attention to her.

Like you, she peered at the slow-falling flakes, following the twirls and spirals they made when a mild breeze caught them. If you had to name the expression she wore, it would be reminiscence. You’d think that, after living here for as long as she did, one would be used to the sight of the year’s first snow. Impassive, even, or perhaps irked by the omen it brought, but the childlike wonder sparkling in her eyes told you otherwise.

You sensed you would never truly get used to it, either.

“Yeah,” you matched her tone, returning your fixation to beyond the window. “I’ve seen snow before, but never really…”

Granny easily picked up on what you didn’t voice. “It’s quite magical.”

You nodded faintly, unbothered by the countertop digging into your elbow.

The day was uneventful for the most part.

Geto-mama had stopped by earlier in the day to pass you a plate of mini lemon tarts, which you idly nibbled on while reading. She had taken to using you as a test subject for her experimental baked treats, and (to your massive relief, since you lived in constant fear of Satoru and Ijichi and their calamitous baking skills) she made amazing snacks, and taught you when she had the time to.

Everyone else was busy either completing preparations for the forecasted snowfall, promised to last the week, or they’re already bundled up at home, staving off the frost from within.

Which meant it was slow-going at the shop, but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.

It gave you time to catch up on the new manga series you’d picked up from the shelf of the store after becoming curious about it. It was an odd story, something about a boy whose body was doused in a fire that could never extinguish, but it kept your mind busy.

The tale under your hand was…difficult to stomach. Not for any massive horror or emotional reasons, no. Rather, it was so painfully cringy that you had to periodically stop and take a breath to steady yourself.

The plot was rather good, an interesting concept for a world that would make for a fantastic anime, but the author really enjoyed causing his readers physical pain from the dialogue. It made for fantastic taunting material, though, and Satoru and you enjoyed ripping into the characters.

It amazed you that this author apparently had a popular manga in both Japan and the States that was released only a couple years after this one, because wow. It was bad.

The dainty chime of the bell drew your attention away from your manga in time to see Suguru ducking under the door frame, giant that he was, a furoshiki-clad object in hand. A quick skim over the shop had his sights landing on you, locating his target. His eyes creased into slim lunes, the corners of his lips digging into the plush of his cheeks as he approached you.

You stepped out from behind the counter and oof-ed when his free arm encompassed you and tugged you into his hoodie-covered chest.

He placed the side of his face against the top of your head and rubbed it endearingly. You never chalked him up to be the type for physical affection when you first met, but here you were, practically getting scented by a territorial feline.

“Hey, you,” he lilted, withdrawing after far too much time passed for the embrace to be considered a normal greeting between friends. His palm stayed in contact with your figure, gliding across the curve of your waist as he was pulling back, seemingly reluctant to part. It raised goosebumps on your nape and along the lengths of your arms.

“Hey, Suguru,” you welcomed, your lips subconsciously tilting upwards. Your heart filled your chest with a warmth akin to the heat the hot chai he frequently made for you. “What brings you here?”

“Brought you lunch,” he explained as he set the object down on the register counter. A succulent scent wafted towards you, forcing you to restrain your stomach in a chokehold around its neck like a crazed mutt. Decorum and politeness were vital in the presence of royalty.

You crooned, grinning wider at him. “Aww, Sugu, you didn’t have to do that.”

He merely shook his head, tucking his hands into the center pocket of his hoodie. “It’s no problem. You mentioned you never tried somen or nikujaga, so I figured I’d make you some.”

His kindness and thoughtfulness had you swooning, so much so that you had faith even the biting chill of the world outside the temperate shop wouldn’t dare bother you.

“I’m serious, Suguru, you’re too nice to me,” you pouted playfully, to which he shook his head in disagreement.

“No such thing,” he replied, leaning back against the wall behind the counter. He jerked his chin towards the bento box. “Eat before it gets cold.”

Not needing to be told twice, you untied the cloth and pulled it away, further unveiling the mouthwatering scent. The container was still hot as you scooted it off the cloth that you folded neatly, then frowned minutely.

“You didn’t bring a box for yourself?” You asked, worry etched into your brow.

He smiled at you. “I ate earlier, don’t worry.”

“Such a good man, dear,” Granny reappeared, squeezing his arm affectionately. “Your parents raised you well.”

“Thanks, Granny,” he said, keeping an eye on you to make sure you ate. His concern was assuaged when you began feasting contentedly, his shoulders loosening. “How’s the shop?”

The old woman waved her hand loosely. “Just fine. Not many have come in today. Oh, but your mother did.”

He nodded. “She told me she wanted to stop by and drop something off before she went to work.”

“Tarts!” You covered your mouth with your palm to muffle your words and pointed at the plate of half-eaten snacks next to you. “Sho yummy.”

“Ah, her lemon tarts? Those are pretty good.” He approved. “Don’t let Satoru know she gave you those.”

“How is Yoriko doing?” Your sorta-grandmother asked, since the topic was brought up.

“Mom is alright,” Suguru answered. “She’s fussing over the snow, as if it doesn’t snow every year.”

She complained indignantly. “She’s just like her mother, that one. Always worried about the smallest things. Your father is a terrible enabler.”

He snorted. “You think he’s any better? They enable each other, it’s an echo chamber.”

She tutted disapprovingly. “Missing the forest for the trees,” she mumbled, then reached out and patted your head. “You can leave for the day after you finish eating.”

You furrowed your brow. “Really? But, it’s so early.”

“It’s alright, there won’t be much work to do today. You should go enjoy it.”

You were prepared to argue further, but were halted by the hard glare she gave you. “Okay, fine. Thank you, Granny.”

“Good girl,” she patted you one more time for good measure. “Eat up, now.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re trying to get rid of me,” you teased.

“I am,” she deadpanned.

You balked at her.

A laugh rumbled in Suguru’s chest, and you turned to him with wide eyes. “Can you believe this? She’s trying to get rid of me.”

He cocked his head towards you. “She’s just being kind enough to let me steal you away.”

You grumbled as you stuffed more food into your mouth. “Unbelievable. The absolute gall of you people, passing me back and forth like a football.”

He and Granny exchanged light conversation, talking about his folks’ plans for their farm in the coming spring, once the cold season passes, while you nibble away until the box is empty and you’re stuffed.

“Thank you for the food, Sugu,” you sighed in satisfaction and slid off your stool, stretching your arms above your head.

“You’re very welcome. I hope you liked it,” he spoke as he gathered the bento back into its furoshiki.

You chuffed. “You kidding? Your cooking is always amazing.”

The elder jabbed your ribs painfully with her elbow, making you wheeze. Unperturbed, she cupped a hand around her mouth to mutter to you. “He likes you.”

“Granny, please,” you rubbed the spot she impacted.

Your further objections were cut off when you found a scarf tossed over your shoulders, the fabric being looped around them a couple times to properly cover your neck and the lower half of your face. The culprit of the surprise attack stood in front of you, now sans his own scarf, as he was diligently securing it in place on you.

“Suguru,” you crinkled your nose at him as he tucked the ends of the fabric into the collar of your sweater. You didn’t fight him on it, but you did feel perhaps a teensy bit child-like with the way he cosseted you.

He merely smiled, cupping your cheek when he finished. “Indulge me.”

Granny gave you a knowing glance from your side.

You freed your chin to stick your tongue out at her before you were stuffed straight back into the scarf. It smelled like Suguru, like tea and spice and him, and you instinctively nuzzled further into the thick material.

“My place?” He moved a section of your hair away from your face so it wouldn’t bother you.

You acquiesced easily, offering to take the bento and furoshiki, to which he declined. You waved goodbye to the weird lady who kept looking between you and your friend while waggling her eyebrows as you stepped out of the shop. You had no idea who she was. What a strange person.

Cough.

The bite of winter nibbled anywhere your clothes didn’t cover as you met the outside world. Baby snowflakes began to gather and melt in your tresses, and you shuddered as a slight draft skittered past your legs.

His fingers easily slipped into the gaps between yours, palms pressed together as he tucked both of your hands in the pocket of his hoodie.

That was the thing about Suguru – he knew what you needed without having to exchange words. He was nothing if not perceptive and observant, a caretaker at heart. Likening him to a guardian angel would’ve been an understatement, in your opinion.

It unsettled you at first, the way he would do something for you, whether or not you said something. You were nervous he could read your mind, but extensive testing (consisting of you saying random gibberish in your head) proved he couldn’t. He was simply good at guessing what you were thinking, and was spectacular at planning ahead.

Your thumb rubbed idle circles into the back of his hand, grazing over the prominent knuckles and thick veins there.

You admired his hands a lot, everything about them. Their size, the roughness of the pads of his fingers, their strength. You liked that, regardless of the feats he was capable of pulling off with those hands, he was always attentive and dovish in the way he treated you.

You enjoyed watching him tear apart old cabinets the same way you enjoyed watching him leaf through a book. Those hands, the ones that dexterously tore out prickly weeds bare, were the same that affixed the fabric keeping your neck protected from the elements in place. Capable of destruction and creation in the same stroke.

The bones of his wrist were a particular draw to you, you couldn’t help but stare at them whenever the chance presented itself – you swear it’s not in a creepy way. Like a hand fetish, but not sexual. Was that a thing?

Ugh, this was just digging your grave deeper. You had to shift your thought process a hint to the left.

What else could he do with them? You’d bet easy money he’d be killer at knitting if he ever asked his dad to teach him. He had a good sense of textiles, knowing the texture of something before touching it, if he had to at all.

A flake dropped onto the round of your cheek and you flinched, rubbing at your face with your free hand. As much as you loved winter, you were looking forward to getting to Suguru’s place to get the sprouting wetness out of your hair. You adored snow, but you’d rather snuggle up under a blanket and relax with him.

You craned your head back, taking in the expanse of ash, stretched from mountaintop to mountaintop.

The crests were sugar dusted, fluffy powder so delicate, you could sink through it effortlessly. Icing glazed down in streaks, brooks and streams frosted by a thin layer atop them. If the town river had a thick sheet of ice over it, you could try to convince your friends to go ice skating with you.

Satoru would be the easiest to convince, Suguru would be the hardest, and Shoko and Utahime would be somewhere in the middle.

Never having experienced nature to this degree, as you hadn’t given yourself the chance to in years past, you pined for a taste of all of it. Hiking in autumn, swimming in summer, sunbathing in spring…you doubted the snow would be dense enough to ski on, and the mountains were too short and steep, but ice skating was well within the realm of possibility.

Whatever season it was, you were determined to be part of it, and to take it with you.

“What’s on that pretty mind of yours, hm?” Suguru eased you from your daydreaming.

You angled your head so you could see him and still fantasize about flying above the frigid clouds. “Suguru, are you any good at painting?”

His head tilted to the side, woefully reminiscent of a curious puppy. “Painting? I never gave it much thought. Why do you ask?”

“I was thinking of turning one of the walls in my house into a simple mural.”

“What kind?”

You ran your tongue over your back teeth in consideration. “I haven’t decided yet. Nature-esque would be nice, vines and stuff. Nothing complicated.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” he replied, squeezing your hand. “We can look at some inspiration together later, if you’d like.”

You grinned brightly. “Absolutely!”

He reciprocated the smile and reached for his door, making you realize you’d arrived. He hiked the furoshiki up to his forearm and curled his fingers around the knob, twisting it and pushing inwards. In seconds, you went from the crisp sting of wintertide to the protection of his home, shielded from the snow and chill.

The scent of the food he made earlier permeated the residence, undertoned by a layer of sandalwood and agarwood incense.

While you were wriggling off your shoes, Suguru was undoing your scarf, pulling it off with smooth movements to hang it over the coat rack. His hands took your face into them, large thumbs rubbing over the swaths of plushness under your eyes to thaw them out.

“I’ll make you some chai,” he said, sharp, russet irises darting across your features. “Wanna sit in the kitchen while I do that?”

You nodded, fleetingly nuzzling into his hold to warm the tip of your nose. He obliged you, only releasing you when you were satisfied with the pleasant buzz tingling over your skin. He motioned for you to go ahead while he pulled off his hoodie and put his shoes away.

The walls of his home had become calming to you over time, the path to his kitchen now one you could follow automatically. You’d even gotten your own designated spot at the breakfast table in his kitchen. Sure, it was a two-seater, so it wasn’t saying much, but it gave you that happy, fluffy feeling anyway.

You slid into your seat as he came in, his hands busy with coiling his long, obsidian locks up into a messy bun that he pinned into place with a claw clip. He was always careful with his hair, taking measures to ensure its condition remained pristine and luscious. You admired and spited him for it; the former for his dedication, and the latter for inflicting you with the constant desire to play with the silk strands like a honeymoon lover.

Suguru was structured and organized in everything he did, preparing chai not excluded. Your jaw rested on the curve of your palm, your focus placed on him as he moved around the room with practiced dexterity.

If you were honest, this was one of your favorite things to do.

Sitting in silence while observing Suguru do his thing lured you into a drowsy sort of state. Not sleepy, but definitely cushy and snug, an invisible blanket laid over your back, weighted and heated.

He taught you how to make it – rather simple, once you know – but his tasted better than anything you could ever make. You could’ve been biased, but you wholeheartedly believed he made the absolute best chai.

A mug was slid over the tabletop to you, mouthwatering steam rising from it. You peered down at the milky-brown liquid with hearts in your eyes, hands grasping the ceramic without hesitation. Suguru enjoyed drawing cute things on the surface of the drinks he made, and used a shallow bowl of milk foam and a toothpick to painstakingly doodle a pudgy bear for you to gulp down.

“Thank you, Suguwu,” you crowed happily, almost feeling too bad for the bear to drink him.

Almost.

“You’re very welcome,” his hand settled on your nape as you lifted the edge of the mug to your lips, gently blowing on the tea, then taking a sip. “How is it?”

You purred. “So good,” you praised him. “Your chai is incredible.”

He chuckled and positioned his index and thumb an inch or so above your hairline. He pressed down, and you stiffened as a sharp spike of pain went through your temple – then you were melting with a satisfied sigh, sliding back into the chair. You had no idea how he knew where to poke and prod to have you turning into putty, but it left you feeling squishy and content, thus you had no complaints.

“Very good, I’m glad,” he said, accepting your compliments, both spoken and silent. “I’m gonna go take a shower. Put the mug in the dishwasher when you’re done, please.”

You nodded and murmured in acknowledgement, relaxing with a dopey smile as you sipped at your chai.

You weren’t sure when it happened, but you’d gained a sort of philosophical appreciation for things like this. Stopping to smell the roses, feeling the snow on your lashes, tasting vanilla and black tea and cinnamon under your tongue, the things you hadn’t bothered to treasure, you now made sure to.

After a few minutes of slouching and drinking lazily, you sat back up and pulled out your phone, unlocking it to occupy your mind.

Right in the middle of you savoring the beverage and scrolling aimlessly through some social media app, a piece of paper was suddenly smacked down onto the wood in front of you. You paused mid-sip and looked at it blankly, then traced the source of its origin up to Satoru’s gleaming, boyish grin. When had he let himself in?

You raised a curious brow at the man, finishing your gulp. “What’s this?”

“That, sweet girl, is a wedding invitation,” he declared with all the vigor of a show host announcing the spoils the victor had attained, “and you’re gonna be my plus-one.”

Your other brow lifted to match the first. “Eh? Since when?”

“Since now,” he sidled up to you, slipping into your space. “I need a wedding date, after all, and I’ve chosen you to be the lucky lady to accompany me.”

Unamused would be a good way to describe your mood. You weren’t very fond of weddings; they were loud, busy, and grossly romantic. Sure, the idea was nice on paper, but spending half a day (or, more often, far more) watching two people slobber over each other in a socially acceptable version of PDA always made you feel gross and invasive, like seeing something you weren’t meant to.

And envious, to some extent, but you preferred to not dwell on that.

“Take Suguru,” you suggested.

Satoru’s nose wrinkled like you waved something expired under his nostrils. “That old hag? No way, he’d kill all my game.”

You scoffed. “And I wouldn’t?”

“Not at all,” he tipped further toward you. “You are the game.”

“Very flattering,” you returned to your phone and tea. “Today I learned that I’m a game.”

He made an affronted noise and curled over you to stare into your eyes, making sure you had no choice but to stare back. “I didn’t mean it like that! Come on, bunny, it’ll be fun!”

You set your cheekbone against your knuckles. “What’s in it for me?”

The Gojo heir puffed up his chest, going full peacock. “A date with me, of course.”

A tempting offer on its own, but not enough. “And…?”

“And,” he continued, “I’ll treat you to anything you like, just name it.”

You deliberated on what sort of ridiculous thing you could ask for that could get him to back off, partially because you really didn’t want to go to a wedding, and partially because you were curious about what the great Gojo Satoru could and couldn’t achieve.

What could you ask of him? You knew money was of no concern for him, in terms of anything your brain could come up with. You weren’t about to ask him to buy you a whole ass estate, no, you were thinking more in the realm of something purposelessly expensive but practical.

You weren’t a big fan of jewelry, hardly wearing the stuff. You’d had enough of world travel as it stood, so a flight to Spain or France or whatever was out of the question.

Your eyes flickered down to his lips unbidden. Plush, pink, parted with anticipation.

A kiss.

You caught the cringe that bubbled up the column of your spine by a hair. What ugly hell did that intrusive thought crawl up from?

Mentally picturing slapping yourself with a sad, wet newspaper and calling yourself a bad pooch, you jumped on the next thing you could come up with.

“Make soap with me,” you said.

Ah, finally, a good idea. You could use some decent soap to scrub your brain wrinkles free of filth.

He frowned. “Soap?”

“Yeah, like one of those soap-making kits. I’ve wanted to try one of those since I was a kid,” you clarified.

“Done,” he agreed with a serious bob of the head. “What else?”

You blinked. What else?

As greedy as you could be at times, you already felt bad asking for the soap kit. You didn’t like people spending money on you, even if it was on Satoru’s tab. You knew his wallet ran deep, you were afraid to know how deep, but your point remained.

You gnawed the inside of your cheek.

You really didn’t want to go to the wedding, but you did kind of get his hopes up with that soap kit ask…

It’d be a good idea to know who you were up against.

“Whose wedding is it?” You queried

His reply brought you a vast amount of satisfaction. “Aoi’s and her fiancé’s.”

Ohohoho, this you had to see. The bush-sex-freaks getting married?

Alright, worth it. “Fine, I’ll go–”

“As my date,” he insisted, not letting you finish.

You half-groaned, the sound ribbing more than anything else. “I’ll go to the wedding as your date. Happy, now?”

He cheered as if he’d won the lottery and pressed a giant kiss to your cheek, rubbing his nose vigorously against it for good measure. “Yippee! I knew you’d agree!”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t stop the up-quirk at the corners of your lips. “I swear to God, if you’re just using me to get numbers from girls–”

“I’m not,” he sneered, following you as you got up, gulped down the rest of your chai, and set the mug away into the dishwasher. “I wouldn’t dare do that, not when I already have the number of the girl I like.”

Something under your ribs twinged. The girl he…likes?

Whatever the odd pinch of discomfort was, you shoved it aside, refusing to address it. “Trying to get her attention by making her jealous of me, then?”

Duckling to mama, he continued to trail after you out of the kitchen and towards the living room. “Nope.”

You made a ‘hrm’ noise. “So, you’re the one who’s jealous and you’re trying to get back at her?”

“Nada.”

You gave up rather easily. “I got nothin’,” you declared, stepping into the living room.

“Don’t you get it? You’re– oh, hey, Suguru,” Satoru cut himself off to greet Suguru, who was reclined in the armchair, freshly showered and casually reading a book. “Didn’t know you were here.”

The nox-haired man halted mid-paragraph and slowly dragged his gaze upwards. A pair of glasses sat low on the bridge of his nose, further adding to that skeptical mom look he had going on. “You didn’t know I’d be in my own house? Yet you figured she would be?” He spoke incredulously and gestured towards you.

Satoru shrugged and dropped himself onto the floor in front of the T.V., tugging open the doors of the cabinet it stood on to withdraw a game controller. “Was lookin’ for her. She wasn’t at my place, since I just left it, and wasn’t at the shop. Next logical place: here.”

“What about the park?”

“In the fuck ass middle of winter?” He jeered. “I’m a himbo, but I’m not stupid.”

“Wow, he’s self-aware,” you commented dryly, climbing onto the couch and nestling into the corner closest to Suguru, tugging at the blanket on the back of it to drape it across your lap. “He did find me here.”

“Touché,” he conceded. “What’d he want from you?”

You used the armrest as a support for your back and tapped open your phone, searching for something to read. “Oh, just an invita–”

“Suguru!” Satoru’s commanding tone clipped through your words. “Play Smash with me!”

“No.”

The cotton ball sulked. “Please?”

“No.”

“Pretty pleeeease?”

“Still no.”

“Pretty please with sugar on top?”

Suguru let out a long-suffering sigh. “Satoru, we played Smash just this morning for, like, two hours.”

Gojo’s lour deepened. “Not even if I added ghost peppers on top of the sugar?”

Geto’s upper lip curled. “Gross.”

You set one foot on the floor, keeping your other leg positioned on the couch, and used the coffee table to lean as far forward as you could to pat the absurdly fluffy mop of white Gojo called hair. “I’ll play it with you later, how’s that?”

If fireworks were a person, they’d be Satoru. Dark one moment, then lighting up the sky the next. “Okay! Wanna watch me play GTA, then?”

“Sure,” you assented, entertained by how his giddiness reminded you of a child opening presents on Christmas.

He got into the zone, navigating through the menus with a grace that told you he’d done this countless times. Watching another person play a game could be tranquilizing in its own right; you could turn your brain off and peep the horrors of him crashing a helicopter head first into a street in the middle of Los Santos.

His manic tittering as he created the most heinous looking vehicle further added to the domestic atmosphere of Geto’s home.

You retrieved your phone at some point to scroll through it, then stopped when you saw a post of a girl showing off her fairy braid. You chewed on your lip, thinking, then dropped your device once you made your choice.

“Suguwu.”

“Mm?”

“Lemme braid your hair,” you demanded, making grabby hands at him.

You couldn’t make a fairy braid as pretty as that, but you could sure as hell make a stellar normal braid.

He took one glance up from his book to you, then he was standing up from his arm chair to sit in front of you at the foot of the couch, already engaged with the words beneath his fingers again.

Satoru gaped, distracted from his game.

“Wh– you never let anyone touch your hair! Not even me!”

The noiret flipped the page as you carefully undid his bun, clasping the clip to the neck of your shirt. “That’s because you’d do unspeakable damage to my hair if I ever let you. Besides, nobody else knows how to treat hair well.”

A blue eye twitched. “Oh, yeah? And she does?”

Suguru opened his mouth to quip back, only to let out the most scandalous groan you’d ever heard when your nails scraped lightly across his scalp.

Sweet disciples of Jesus H. Christ, what was that sound?

He reclined into your touch, book promptly forgotten on his lap as he tilted his head back and closed his eyes.

“How long did it take you to find a routine?” You asked him, hoping to distract yourself before your imagination took off with the noise now permanently ingrained on your brain. “Your hair is so soft.”

“Trial and error,” he said with a rasp. “My mom has the same hair as me, so I learned from her. You?”

You combed your fingers through his silken locks with a delicate touch, moving slowly so as to not catch and tear any potential knots. Whenever you found one, you carefully untangled it before proceeding. “Trial and error for me, too. My life changed when I discovered leave-in.”

“I think I’m in love with you,” Suguru mumbled.

You burst into giggles, your laughter fueled by Satoru’s baffled expression. In two seconds flat, he had dropped the controller and was directly in your face, brows set with determination.

“Braid my hair, too!”

You snorted horrendously and angled your face away out of embarrassment, Suguru’s chuckle making you laugh harder. “S-Satoru,” you heaved. “Your hair is too short to braid.”

“Don’t care!” He grasped your hand and planted it firmly atop his head, his demands made clear. “Do it anyway!”

“Okay– okay!” You panted, willing the rest of your chortling away. “Let me do Suguru’s hair first, then yours.”

Subdued, he sat on his knees on the couch cushion next to yours, and though he didn’t prod, he very much continued to reside in your personal space. His wide eyes were fixated on your hands as they worked sedulously to curve and twist Suguru’s hair into an elegant braid, intrigued with every shift and swoop.

You were no professional, but you were beaming with pride at the end. Using the claw you’d removed earlier, you folded the braid into itself, then pinned it into place, satisfied.

“There, all done,” you announced.

Geto peeled his droopy eyes open, but made no move to stand and go back to his seat, fully content to stay where he was. “Thank you, pretty girl.”

Satoru threw himself over your lap, face down as he shoved one arm under and the other over the thigh pillowing his head and hugged it in a hold bordering on a death grip. “My turn!”

His poor parents.

Dealing with an adult Satoru was already hassle enough, considering his impatience and penchant for pestering the living hell out of you to get what he wanted. Kid-sized Satoru was probably eons worse, if the anecdotes from others were anything to go on.

You spoiled him, anyway.

Your fingers carded through his hair, eliciting a loud purr. Given the significantly shorter length of his hair, you elected to transform isolated sections into micro braids. They held themselves together nicely, the rhythmic and repetitive motions lulling both you and Satoru into amicable quiet, disturbed only by the occasional scratch of pages sliding against each other as Suguru returned to his book.

It took you some time to figure out that Satoru had fallen asleep, his breaths deep and even, cheek squished against the plush of your thigh. He was turned towards you, allowing you to inspect his features closely.

He really was beautiful.

In gaps of time like this, where he wasn’t bouncing off the walls with energy, you could pick apart the details that made him who he was.

His brows and lashes were the same shade of gardenia as his locks. Thick petals protected those whirlpools residing beneath, hiding the blue of a moonstone’s shine. His lips formed a natural pout, a tad glossy in the middle, dark magenta lining the inside.

He had freckles, you discovered. They were faint, virtually invisible unless you were this near to him, but they were there. They dusted across the bridge of his nose and the apples of his cheeks, giving him an extra boost to that boyish charm of his you had become partial to.

He really was handsome, blessed by the heavens, made in their image.

Your susutake-eyed friend gained your attention with low-toned words, pulling you away from your veneration. “I’m guessing it was about the wedding?”

You took a few seconds to recall what he was talking about, the reason Satoru was looking for you. “Oh, yeah.”

“Wanna be my plus-one?” Suguru inquisitioned.

You exhaled, drawn out and defeated as you laced your digits through the mane of the boy napping on your lap. “Satoru already coerced me into being his plus-one.”

He shrugged. “Doesn’t mean you can’t be my plus-one, too.”

Your brow knitted. “How so?”

Topaz locked onto you. “Simply by being my plus-one. We’ll all go together.”

Satoru stirred as you mulled over it, your motions pausing in fear that you woke him. But, he merely repositioned, his lanky arms moving to encase your waist so he could press his face against your stomach, then he sank back down into deep sleep.

Your heart fluttered, fingers brushing his hair out of his eyes.

A bird, downy and young, burrowed into the nest behind the defensive embrace of your ribs, and chirped shyly. A fragile thing, one that cautiously set foot into a desolate and hollow place, hoping to fill it with feathers and, perhaps, an emotion akin to devotion.

It’d need compassionate hands to hold it, to nurture it, let it rise and spread its wings wide until they could sprout from your shoulder blades to return what was once lost.

You had to allow it to do so, though. You had to be the one cradling it to where you were most vulnerable, let it seep strength from your pounding heart, but you recognized that your warmth alone wouldn’t be sufficient. You had to let others in, let their hands clasp around yours, let them share the fires of their souls with you.

In the past, such an idea was inconceivable. The nest had been empty for endless years for a reason, unsuitable for any kind of life, especially a docile and infant type.

You weren’t in the past anymore.

You were terrified to give anyone entry to the darkness that painted the walls of your ribcage, sapping all light that deigned to creep in, but…

How you longed to feel the sun on your skin, to feel the moon crowning you.

It didn’t have to be everybody, no. It could be just them, the celestial bodies you cowered from yet coveted.

Just Satoru and Suguru.

“Sure,” you decreed. “Why not?”

─────•(-•ʚɞ•-)•─────

You twisted side-to-side in front of the mirror, examining yourself, dissecting every part of you.

You were standing on the rug in your room – your actual room, the one in your house, rather than Satoru’s. After months upon months of hard work, you were finally able to say you’d accomplished your goal of fixing it up to be properly habitable.

And, yes, you’d stolen the rug from ‘your’ room back at his place to bring here.

One thing you didn’t consider about living alone after having so long to get used to living with Satoru was how lonely it could be, so the fluffy piece watered that feeling down.

After you’d made the move here, he insisted the room in his home was permanently yours, and that you’d always be welcome there. Well, more accurately, he begged you to stay. While you were too enticed by the idea of having your own house and being able to live in it, you frequently slept at his anyway. It was hard to beat the repose that came with the familiarity of his estate, and knowing he was close by.

But, the benefit of having a solo-abode was that he couldn’t pester the living hell out of you while you got ready for Aoi’s wedding.

Your makeup was flawless, as it should have been, given how long you’d been slaving away on it. You didn’t do your makeup often, so you were plenty chuffed with how it turned out. It only took two-and-a-half hours, too!

…You were smart to start early.

The thin chain around your throat complemented the neckline of the dress Suguru and Satoru gifted you beautifully, glimmering like the sparkling dots decorating the profile of the fabric.

Breathable fabric followed the shape of your body, powdered with microscopic, iridescent glitters that fluctuated with every movement you made, catching the light zealously. Satoru had snuck it in with the soap kit, shutting down each of your attempts to reject the gift.

Suguru had chosen the style, while Satoru selected the color. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t suit you.

It was perfectly tailored to you, flattering and enhancing in all the best ways.

You wouldn’t admit to anyone that you spent ten minutes running your hands over your tits, waist, and hips after putting it on. You looked good. Like, good good, the kind of pop and spunk and beauty that you’d swoon over in a hit music video.

You had a pair of sandals that were miraculously a match, which meant you could not only turn down Satoru’s offer to get you a new pair, but you didn’t have to worry about wearing beaten up sneakers, either. There was no way in hell you were letting that man buy another thing for you. He wouldn’t tell you how much the dress cost him, no matter how many times you banged on his chest and demanded answers, so anything more was out of the question.

He relented after bickering back and forth, giving you the relief to dress up without guilt.

Not bad. Not bad at all.

As you finished fawning over yourself, there was a knock at your front door. Your heart rate spiked and you giggled, giving yourself a second to cool off, lest you looked too eager. No man liked that, you’d been told.

You skipped across your house, pausing to admire the accent wall in the living room. Suguru had painted a fairly simple nature scene on it of tree silhouettes encasing a mountain background, and it’d become your absolute favorite thing. You knew he was good with his hands, and you were elated with the results.

Giddy, you popped open the door, where you found the men of the hour awaiting you.

Oh, hell.

They looked like kings in those tuxedos of theirs, fit for royalty. They were already striking, you wholeheartedly believed they couldn’t possibly clean up any better. Boy, were you wrong.

Suguru’s gorgeous mane was interwoven into a plait that rested over his shoulder, dotted with baby’s breath flowers in resemblance to constellations, courtesy of Geto-mama. Satoru’s tresses were swept back, looking minimally less disheveled. You really couldn’t ask much from his hair, it did what it liked, when it liked.

“Oh, my god,” you said. “I wanna see you in suits.”

Suguru laughed, deep and rumbling, orbs glinting with mischief. “Next wedding, princess.”

“Look at you!” Satoru whistled, checking you out blatantly. “Damn, you look hot as fuck. That dress is perfect on you. Who picked it out for you?” He teased, sapphires glimmering. “I wanna get a drink with him sometime.”

Suguru snorted. “You don’t even drink, Satoru.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t get a drink with the handsome fella who dressed our girl up so pretty.”

You rolled your eyes at his antics. “You look fantastic, too, Satoru. Both of you! Seriously, you’re killing it! You’re gonna steal all the attention from the groom.”

“So long as your attention is on me, I don’t care,” he winked, taking your hand to ghost a kiss over your knuckles. Heat rushed through your being, adding to the blush you applied earlier.

Suguru bent over, pressing his own to the spot right in front of your ear. “You look beautiful, angel,” he murmured. Pulling away, the two of them presented corsages – one in blue and white, the other in lilac and black.

You placed a hand to your chest, taken aback and flattered. You picked up on how their corsages matched the flowers they had respectively pinned to their breast pockets.

“And they say chivalry is dead,” you snickered and offered out both arms for them to take and adorn.

They were coordinated as always, neither wrist bare for longer than the other.

“They’re gorgeous,” you doted. “Thank you.”

Suguru’s palm slid up your forearm, digits pressing so tenderly into your skin, spawning chills under his touch. “Only right for someone as ravishing as yourself.”

You blushed, relishing in the praise. It was alright to indulge sometimes, you considered it a treat for finishing your home renovation. The opportunity was there to let loose and wash away all your worries, you’d be a fool not to take it.

“Coming from you,” you blew him a jesting kiss, which he pretended to catch. “Cheesy.”

“Let’s go already!” Satoru butted in, hooking his arm with yours.

Suguru extended his for you to take, continuing to be the polite and proper of the two. “Shall we?”

“We shall!” You declared. For once, you were excited to attend a wedding.

So long as it was with them, you’d go anywhere.

banner by cafekitsune ♥

taglist: @kimi01985

#Tether Me #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #geto x reader #suguru x reader #geto suguru x reader #suguru geto x reader #jjk x reader #satosugu x reader #chimera writes

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nattikay · 3 months

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I just finished the last season of Sweet Tooth on Netflix, I gotta vent a little, warning that this post probably won't be everyone's cup of tea but I gotta say it somewhere. [there be spoilers for anyone who may care about that]

so I've been pretty invested in this show since the first season; yeah, some of the acting is pretty corny and some of the effects look a tad clunky (hello awkward Bobby puppet), but I still enjoyed the characters well enough and wanted them to succeed and also, hey, I'm a simple woman, show me cute animal-people and I'm hooked.

But....I've gotta admit that I really didn't care for the ending. Within the last three episodes of the show they pivot from "we've gotta find a cure for this virus to save humanity" to "actually on second thought humans are the REAL disease and their extinction is the cure" which........ewwwwwwww, no dude, keep your cringe nihilism to yourself k thx

And yeah, in the end they do stop the virus so the remaining humans can survive for a while longer, but all babies are still born as hybrids meaning "humanity" is going to die off within the next 80 years or so anyways.

and they try to dress this up as a great mercy, and they say oh, yeah humans have some good in them but it always comes with Bad, unlike the hybrids who got all the Good in humanity but also they're Better because they're part animal so all the Bad will die off with the humans and hybrids will live in peace forever and I'm sorry but I call bullcrap

Animals are not these great bastions of altruism and morality. Animals rape. Animals steal. Animals kill. Animals cannibalize. Animals eat prey alive.

Even the "oh but humans are greedy and want to take everything and upset the balance of nature" spiel. Buddy, contrary to what some environmentalist stories want to tell you, animals do not actually have a concept of "the balance of nature". That's why invasive species are such a big problem. Introduce an invasive predator into a region and several native prey species go extinct. Those predators don't have a concept of "conserving resources", they'll just keep hunting as long as they're hungry.

And it's not a problem unique to predators either. Remember when wolves were hunted to extinction is parts of the US and then the deer populations exploded and ate all the grass and the whole ecosystem kinda fell apart until wolves were re-introduced to the region? The deer didn't give a crap that they were eating all the grass. They weren't even consciously aware of it. They're not capable of conceptualizing abstract ideas like that.

Natural ecosystems have a balance to them because they're intricately designed systems, not because the animals that live in them are actively making Morally Right Choices to preserve them.

One major thing that separates humans from animals is that we have the capacity for morality. We have the ability to comprehend abstract concepts like freedom and conservation and honor and sacrifice etc., and with it the ability to make moral choices. We are capable of great good, and great evil. You cannot have the capacity for one without having the capacity for the other, because good and evil rest on your choices. Even if you go through your whole life doing only "nice" things, if you did those things because you had no other option, no say in the matter, are you really "good"? Good people choose to be so. I love animals and they're super cool and all, and yes some of them are very smart, but they are not really capable of making that choice (no, I don't care how much of an "angel" your dog is). They are amoral, neither morally good nor bad.

And the hybrids? It's clearly shown that they have the same capacity for choice as humans....which in turn means that yes, whether the narrative wants to admit it or not, the hybrids still have the capacity for evil just like the humans did. Giving them some animal ears or special powers doesn't change that.

Not to mention that all but one of the hybrids we've met are children. They haven't even hit puberty yet!! Of course a bunch of innocent kids are gonna look like sweet little angels compared to hardened desperate adults trying to survive an apocalypse holy flip! And just because Gus happens to be a particularly good person who strives to see the best in others does not mean that all other hybrids for the rest of time are gonna be the same! He's not good because he's part deer, he's good because he's Gus! Because he believes in good things and acts on it!

The one adult hybrid we briefly meet isn't a sweet little kid who sees the best in others, he's a grouchy old man who wants human genocide. And while I can totally understand why he as a character feels that way....that's not good dude!!!! That's not any better than the humans who want to kill the hybrids!

You didn't "remove worst of humanity and preserve the best of it" by replacing humans with hybrids. You just gave them a makeover.

Human/animal hybrids as a character concept are totally up my ally, I think they're very cool, but pretending that being part animal makes them inherently morally better than regular humans is just ridiculous imo.

tl;dr I just really hate the nihilistic "humans are uniquely evil, deserve to go extinct as a Punishment, and literally any other sapient species would be better" trope and I'm very disappointed that this show pivoted to that at the last minute.

#''but doesn't avatar have those types of themes too'' well sort of but i would argue not really (at least not so far)#perhaps i will make an addendum for that later

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raniayousef1999 · 20 days

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In Gaza, where beauty embraces pain, Rania was born. A 25-year-old Palestinian girl lives in a land that knew wars and displacement, but she also knew steadfastness and creativity. From a young age, Rania saw the world with different eyes. Her vision was not limited to the destruction and tragedies in Gaza, but she saw colors and life in everything. Art was her only refuge, drawing is what gives her the ability to express her repressed feelings and her dreams that may be far-fetched but not impossible.

While Rania was painting, she embodied the stories of people and places she had lost because of the war in her paintings. It rebuilds her city on fabric, but this time differently, a city that is vibrant, full of joy and hope. Every painting you drew was a window from which she looked at another world, a world filled with freedom and peace. Life wasn't easy for Rania. She suffered from displacement more than once, and saw with her own eyes destroyed houses and dreams shattered. But in the midst of all this pain, she insisted that she continue to paint, showing the world that Gaza is not just the title of war, but a symbol of will and life. She felt responsible for her people, she painted paintings that reflected the power of women in Gaza, those women who live under fear but do not give up. She was taking to the destroyed streets, collecting colors from the remains of buildings, and using them to draw her paintings. It's like she's trying to bring back something of beauty. Rania was not just a painter, but a voice for those without a voice, and she was an expression of hope who refuses to be extinguished. Every time she finished a painting, she felt like she had put a part of her soul on that cloth, part of her pain, joy and hope for a better future. At the end of each day, she would sit in front of her little window, looking at the stars and talking to herself: “Maybe there will be a day when painting will turn from a way to escape from reality to a celebration of the life we dreamed of.” She knew that the road was long, but with her brushes and colors, Rania was confident that she was leaving her mark on the history of Gaza, an imprint full of hope and love, despite all the difficulties.

@three-croissants @el-shab-hussein @stuckinapril @nabulsi @brutaliakhoa @

#free gaza #free palestine #gaza #bill cipher #gaza city #gaza strip #save palestine #hugh jackman #house of the dragon #olympics #art

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arcadia-of-pluto · 28 days

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Twist of Fate; Chapter Seven

Pairings; LADS OT4 X reader

Word Count; 2,876

Themes; isekai, eventual smut

Rating; 18+ for swearing and some mature context

Notes; you have a slight existential crisis, a kiss (but it doesn't get too intense unfortunately), another Xavier-centric chapter with a small cliffhanger, also a reminder that 💛 is Xavier! Also, I accidentally posted this so I guess y'all are getting this chapter early 🤷🏻‍♀️

Prev || Next

Masterlist

I would also like to mention, once more, that the reader isn't aware of anything relating to Sylus. Just his looks, the appearance of his evol, and all of that. Think of her as all of us during Sylus's trailer release! Even though she doesn't know anything, the story will go as it does in the original story. I'm definitely not creative enough to change any of that, but there will be major differences after we finish the final chapter (in-game, chapter eight)!

You have one more day of freedom before you enter the Nest as bait. How will you spend it?

You woke up a bit later than usual, wanting to spend as much time with Estelle in bed as possible before you had to leave her for an unspecified amount of time. You hope she remembers you. After you make yourself something to eat and give Estelle her food, you check up on your flowers. The bluish pink flowers sat in a vase you had made at a pottery class with Zayne. Your thumbprints in the shape of a heart and the vase was glazed in the colour arctic blue, which was a beautiful light blue. The vase was sitting next to the fox Xavier got you and the painting Rafayel made for you.

You decide to lounge around the apartment today, unwilling to go outside and do anything since you knew today would be your last day of freedom. You were honestly worried, after tomorrow you were in the dark on what comes next. Your gaze flitting across the notes you made of the past and near future, hoping to come up with a nice game plan for your next decisions. You could tell the other guys you know about your past lives, but if you don't know everything then what's the point? You knew Rafayel would throw a fit if you didn't remember everything. Zayne doesn't really remember or, at least, you're not sure. Most of Zayne's past life you're in the dark about since you never got his cards. For Rafayel, you know two specific instances of past lives but the bigger one where he was the god of the sea? You only know part of it. You never got those cards either. With Xavier, you know of both lives- one more so than the other. You know he's Lumiere, the man who saved the main character as a child and protected Linkon during the Chronorift Catastrophe..you also know he's quite jealous of himself. Any time Lumiere is mentioned, he gets jealous.

But Sylus? Nope, you know nothing. Besides his looks, that he's the leader of Onychinus, and what his evol looks like. That's all you know. And you think you remember a crow, but you could be mistaken because of meeting Mephi at the animal shelter.

You know you need the aether core at the auction, but you don't recall why. Maybe to help your heart? You don't dare ask because it would look weird if you were intent on finding something, but forgot why you needed it. And after that? You assume winning Sylus’ heart like you have with the others. So he can't be a real bad guy if he's a love interest. You've read theories that the Ever corporation, which is the biggest company in the world- branching from biotech to aerospace to evol energy and even international trade- might be evil or working with Onychinus, but that's the only lead you have. You'll just have to figure it out as you go along.

You put on the TV and laze around with Estelle for most of the day until you step outside to sit on your balcony to watch the sun set.

Your phone buzzes and you look down to check it, seeing a text from Xavier.

💛 :”whatre u doing outside this late?”

A smile tugs at your lips and you tell him that you're watching the sunset to which he doesn't respond. Instead his response comes in the form of a figure hopping down from the floor above you and grabbing onto the concrete wall of the balcony. “Watching it together would be better than watching alone.” He says, reaching out toward you and you grab his hand, tugging him fully onto your balcony.

“You scared the hell out of me, Xavier.” I say, looking up at the sky. “Give me a warning next time, please?” “I'll try my best.” He smiles, propping his arm up on your shoulder. “Aren't you nervous about tomorrow?”

“Ah…a little bit.” You look down at your feet with a small sigh and decide to sit down in a chair. “I'm nervous, but also anxious, but also I don't know what to expect. I have a plan and I know it'll work, but I'm unsure of where to go from there.”

“Well instead of worrying about it, how about you just go with the flow?” He crouches down next to you since you only had one chair, he rests his chin on your knee as he looks up at you. “Don't stress about what hasn't happened, just focus on right now and you can worry about the future when it comes.” You rest your hand in his hair and smile, tilting your head back to look up at the sky. “You know, you talk like an old man.” Your thumb brushes against his forehead, “but…I don't mind it.”

“Besides watching the sunset, I know of another way to calm down. Do you want to hear about it?” Xavier asks, his hand reaching up to cup your cheek. His thumb gently brushes against your fully healed scar and your eyes flutter closed for a moment. “Have you tried it with other people and that's how you know it works?” You tease with a raise of your brow. “How do you know it'll work, huh?”

“Well… you won't know unless we try.” He stands back up, resting one hand on the armrest of your chair. His other still on your right cheek as he leans forward to rest his forehead against yours. “May I?” He asks and you go to nod, but remember before that he told you to speak. “Yes,” you say before adding softly under your breath, “please.”

Xavier's eyes close as he closes the distance between you, his lips gently brushing against yours before fully connecting. He doesn't try to deepen the kiss, leaving it as a soft, yet intimate moment between you both. After a few moments, he breaks from the kiss and leaves a few scattered kisses across your face. His final stop was at your scar, his lips brushing along the scar from the top of your eyebrow all the way to your cheekbone. Your body immediately jerks in surprise at the touch since you realized your scar was rather sensitive. “Better?” He whispers, going back to resting his forehead against yours. His ears as red as yours probably were.

“Thank you.” You say softly, cupping his cheek and you rub your thumb back and forth across his cheekbone. A loud meow coming from behind you both finally breaks the moment and allows Xavier to pull away from you. “It seems like Estelle was jealous.” He chuckles, picking up the large cat with ease. “It looks like she's worried about her mommy.”

“She'll be fine because she'll have her daddy looking after her while I'm gone.” You say nonchalantly, not noticing the blush that spread across Xavier's cheeks or the way he buried his red face into Estelle's fur. “You really have a way with words.” He chuckles, shaking his head.

“We missed the sunset!” You realize, quickly standing up as you whine. “Damn it.”

“We might've missed the sunset but didn't we make a better memory in place of it?” Xavier muses, glancing over at you with a soft smile. “I guess we did.” You reach over to pet Estelle behind the ears and Xavier takes the chance to say, “Be safe tomorrow. Promise me.”

“I can't make any promises, Xav. You know that.” You sigh, hugging both him and Estelle. “But just know I'll do my best to come back in one piece. I can promise that. I'm not going anywhere any time soon.” You murmur into his chest and rest your forehead against it.

“That's…” Xavier lets out a heavy sigh and gives you a forced smile before he nods, “That’s enough for now.”

D-Day

Finally, it's Hunting day. Your last day of knowing what comes next. You spent most of the night tossing and turning, mulling over what would happen and worrying over getting hurt, but you felt a bit better now. Especially as you changed into your clothes for the day. In the game, the main character showed up at the Nest in her uniform and while that would be the best kind of bait, it seemed impractical. If you're trying to be bait, wouldn't being obvious bait deter people? If you're too on the nose, people might think it's a trap. So instead, you opted to put on a strappy, red ruffled shirt that was tucked into a white skirt. You added a belt and you set your red low heels by the door. You spray some perfume and spend a few minutes getting ready to look your best.

A stylish outfit is a good weapon for a woman. That and your actual weapon in its holster under your skirt. You shrug on an expensive black jacket, one of the only things you own that wasn't in game, to hide your obvious weapon. You weren't sure when the right time would be to leave so you decided to have your last meal. Well, it wouldn't be your last meal but it definitely felt like it. After you ate, you'd leave for the Nest to meet up with Rafayel. Your last message to him being ‘Meet me at the Nest and show me how to fish.’ to which he replied that ‘the biggest fish come out at night.’ So you assume 10-11pm would be an appropriate time to leave?

You still have time today so what were you going to do?

You took a few more notes on what to expect after and made sure the tiny tranquilizer was in your pocket. The antidote vial sitting on your kitchen island ready to take before you leave. You double, no triple, no quadruple checked that you have everything and spent a few hours anxiously pacing back and forth and petting Estelle. You were never good at waiting, especially when you were anticipating something.

You decide to leave at 10pm, giving you an hour to get to the Nest, which makes sense since you'd be walking. You down the vial, tossing it in the garbage as you head toward the door. You slip your shoes on and lock the door behind you after feeding Estelle for the night.

Honestly with all this walking, you should probably just bite the bullet and learn how to drive since you already have a license in this world. But driving is scary and you have bigger issues to deal with right now so that'll have to come later.

As you walk through Azure Square, you pin your ‘family’ crest to your jacket, trying to make sure that not all of Jeremiah's hard work went to waste and even though you have your hunter's watch on, it is covered by your jacket sleeves so you assume it'll be fine. A pretty bait is what you're planning to be tonight, no need to go too overboard with it. You enter the Nest and it just looks like your average nightclub. People were standing and drinking, some slightly dancing to some music or talking amongst themselves, not many people were at the bar though, besides the bartender.

As you look around, your vision is blocked by someone stepping in front of you. “Hey there,” the man’s eyes glance at your crest as he continues, “Actually-”

“Isn't it a bit weird to do business with newcomers?” Rafayel steps into frame, practically shoving the other man out of the way as he fixes his sleeves, not even sparing the man another glance. “Come.” He loops a finger with yours as he pulls you up to the bar. “So…do you have your bait ready?” He asks, leaning his chin onto his hand.

“Mmh, I'll play their game and allow myself to be caught. Act like a clueless little worm on a tackle.” You say, nonchalantly. Not mentioning the N109 Zone since you didn't want to catch others' attention just yet. “You'll still need to cast your line though…that should be easy enough.” Rafayel drums his fingers against the bar counter before he hands the bartender a coin. He picks up an embossed card, sliding the blank side over to you. “Go ahead. Write down what you're looking for.”

You take a deep breath, nodding your head as you grab the black feathered pen that was sitting in a nearby cup. You write down ‘aether core’ and the ink disappears a few moments later. Rafayel scoops up the card to hand it to the bartender who nods and disappears into the back. “Who's he going to tell?” You ask, turning your body to face the well dressed artist. “Doesn't matter. If they're interested, you'll know.” He muses, moving his hand over to trace random shapes on the back of your hand.

“Rafayel?” He's still silent before he takes your hand, kissing the back of it. “Now, we wait for the fish to bite.” “How long?” You ask after he lets go of your hand. “Hmm..not long. The Nest lives up to its name, you know? An underground intelligence network that's well known to match supply and demand.” As Rafayel finishes his sentence, the bartender comes back with a shot glass. He places it in front of you before stepping away once more.

“And this?” You ask before assuming this means a fish has taken a bite so you reach out for it and Rafayel suddenly grabs your wrist. “Think about it first. The glass is black, that means you'll have to pay a high price and if it doesn't go smoothly, you'll be the payment instead.”

“Well, being the payment is better than sitting here and doing nothing.” You shrug, downing the shot in one go. “Since you've made up your mind, I won't stop you.” Rafayel chuckles, placing his hand on top of your head to ruffle your hair. “I hope you find the answers you seek.” He stands up from the barstool and doesn't look back as he walks away, just puts his hand up as he waves.

“Alright, I guess let's look around until the hunting starts.” You murmur to yourself, rising to your feet as you walk around the bar. You notice a board off to the side, a wanted board. You see a head shot of Lumiere who looks obviously like Xavier except with a white mask and an outfit you've never seen before. A small chuckle leaving your lips before you notice how much he's wanted for. “100 million? Geez, what did he do?” You step a bit closer to look at the other wanted posters and you only catch a glimpse of purple hair on another poster before someone runs into you.

“It's starting, it's starting.” The drunken man excitedly mumbles to himself as he walks further into the crowd.

The lights suddenly shut off and a modified OTTO patrol bot rose up from a podium in the center of the room. The circular robot flies high until a voice booms from it, “There's a price to pay when a wish is granted! Will you be the hunter or the hunted tonight?” The robotic screen was a deep shade of red, the camera on it shaped like an eye. “Hunting day will now…commence.”

As your gaze lands on the eye, you feel your blood run cold. This…this reminded you of the red eye from your nightmares but you couldn't put your finger on how. You decide to play it safe and try to find a place to hide but honestly, where can you hide? You're in an unfamiliar, crowded place so you're not even sure where the bathrooms are and why would you hide if the plan is to be caught in the first place?

Your thoughts are cut short as the voice says one last thing. “Now.” It's red gaze lands on you, effectively spotlighting you to everyone in the crowd. “Shit.” You mutter to yourself as a few people in the crowd walk toward you.

“There she is…we've been looking for you.” One person says and another one chimes in, “This is the prey.”

You're a tad bit overwhelmed as people close in on you and as you try to dip out of the crowd, you feel your breath leave you as you're hit in the back and your knees hit the ground hard. “Hey-” you say, trying to turn toward the person and elbow them in the gut but they grab you by your hair and hold a vial in front of your face. “C-003, a neurotoxin. If you're smart, you won't put up a fight.”

You sigh, head hanging down and your hair covers your face to hide your smile. At least everything still went according to plan. Now what comes next is a complete mystery. Your smile leaves your lips as you feel the butt of a gun hit your head and you fall to the ground.

I'm keeping the extra spaces in this chapter to show a comparison, so just let me know which you prefer and I'll keep doing it for the up-coming chapters! Also, this won't be a cliffhanger for long since I'll also be posting chapter eight today. I decided to spoil y'all 🩷

I do want to add that I change up mc's dialogue compared to what she says in-game sometimes because I don't like how it's worded or I don't like specific actions she does (like shaking Mephisto, you'll see). I also make comments on her stupid actions- like her trying to hide in the original chapter or wear her hunter's uniform as if she wants to scream to the Nest, "I'm a hunter!! Please, take me!" Instead of being more low-key and under the radar.

Taglist; @orphicmeliora

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hauntedhokage · 10 months

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PART 10: Patching Up

WORD COUNT: Thread by thread you're coming to accept that Bakugou really doesn't hate you.

SUMMARY: 1.5k

[series masterlist] | {ao3} | [tumblr masterlist] | {ko-fi} | [spotify playlist]

“We haven’t had a true date night in a while.”

The comment from Eijirou has you pausing in your apple slicing, and he doesn’t miss the chance to pull a slice from the cutting board to snack on while you’re distracted. “I’m not complaining, though. It’s something Bakugou brought up and wanted to make sure we were okay without that time.”

Of course it was something Bakugou had brought up. But that made you wonder if he was getting that time he needed with his boyfriend as well. Was bringing it up a hint or were you reading too much into it? Probably a yes to the latter, since Bakugou wasn’t the type to tip-toe around a topic when he was talking to Eijirou, but you can’t help but be a bit nervous when the blonde was making observations about your relationship. Things were better, but they still weren’t perfect.

“I hadn’t really thought about it, being honest.” You finally state after a moment of consideration, setting down the knife beside your half sliced apple so you could properly turn to look at your boyfriend. “I feel like we’re still getting that time, are you doing okay?”

“Yeah, I’m not upset about it by any means. I also hadn’t really noticed until he brought it up.”

It was interesting to you that Bakugou would bring it up at all. Not surprising that he’d notice by any means, since the blonde paid attention to everything, but he wouldn’t necessarily comment. Especially where your relationship with Eijirou was concerned. Now you were thinking the worst, and can’t stop yourself from voicing the first thought that came to mind.

“He’s not sick of us being here all the time, is he?”

“No, baby, that’s not it at all.”

“Are you and him getting the time you need? Like, I’m not-”

“You’re not intruding, not taking anything from him. He’s not upset, take a deep breath and relax.” And you do, letting him take your hands in his and holding them to his chest as he takes a deep breath. On the second breath you follow the action, smiling up at your boyfriend as he grins down at you. “Do you wanna go out on a date tonight?”

“Dinner and the arcade?”

“What about the mini golf place?”

“That new one? Nah, let the hype die down first. Last time we went somewhere new people thought I was doing a promo piece on it.”

“We got in for free though,” he reminds, and you roll your eyes as you pull away so you can go back to slicing your apple. “Arcade is good too. Scores on the strength meter reset last week so I gotta reclaim my throne anyway.”

“The only other people who try that thing are like twelve, babe.”

“I'm an inspiration to grow up and get big and strong.”

“More like overly competitive,” you counter, smacking his hand to keep him from taking another apple slice. “If you wanted me to slice an apple for you, you should’ve asked.”

“Is it too late to ask?”

“Considering you already ate half of my apple, yes.”

You elect to ignore the pathetic whine that leaves him, instead moving what was left of your apple onto the small plate before taking the cutting board to the sink to deal with after you’d finished your snack. You had work to do anyway, he could fend for himself for a couple hours. He doesn’t join you at the kitchen table, instead turning right where you had turned left while saying that he was going to pick out your date night outfit to leave you one less thing to worry about today, and that gives you the moment of freedom from his concerned gaze at how concerned you still were about Bakugou and how the blonde potentially felt about you.

You hated that you couldn’t just let things happen. He’d told you that he’d never hated you, he’d saved your life, he’d bought you a massive palm that was staring back at you - the palm that only ever brought a smile to your face whenever you looked at it. He was trying and trying so hard, why was it so hard for you to accept that he was okay with you being around? Why was your first instinct to assume that he had a problem whenever he was brought up? That wasn’t fair to him in any way.

Maybe Bakugou and I need our own date night? You ponder, clicking your pen idly as you consider it. Technically you were going to that community center opening together, but did that count as a date? You didn’t see why it couldn’t, but you also felt that he maybe needed something a bit more private to be comfortable calling it a date. You’d ask Eijirou for his thoughts when he came back from raiding his closet and dresser for a suitable outfit.

“How come you haven’t worn this shirt in a while?” The question comes fifteen minutes later and has you looking up over your laptop to see Eijirou holding up one of your blouses, the black one with the white and orange flowers. The one you’d worn the day you yelled at Bakugou at the news station, the one you’d been staring at every time you saw it neatly folded on the shelf above their washing machine over the last couple of months. The one that reminded you that Bakugou had tried to extend an olive branch and you’d snapped it in two without thinking twice, extending the suffering for the both of you. “It’s one of my favorites and I miss seeing you in it.”

“The button came off,” you explain simply, choosing to leave out the rest of the history that shirt held for the sake of avoiding a conversation about how bad you felt about that day. “I’ve been meaning to take it to the dry cleaner to have them fix it since I can’t but I keep forgetting. The last few weeks have been a bit much.”

“Yeah, fair. Which button was it?”

“The top one. Not really one I use, but I don’t want to lose the button either.”

“You sure you’re not thinking of a different shirt?” He asks, earning a raised brow from you as you lean back in your seat. “Because the button is attached?”

“No, it was that one because that’s the-” you catch yourself, standing from your chair so you can cross the flat to get to where he’s standing with your shirt in hand. He hands it over easily, concern obvious on his features as he watches you closely inspect the button. “I swear it was this one. This is the shirt I was wearing when I yelled at Bakugou at the station, he had offered to- oh my god.”

“What?”

“He fixed it.” You whisper, looking closely at the threads that held the imitation pearl button in place before comparing it to a button that you knew wasn’t damaged. Sure enough, the threads on the fixed button were brighter than the worn threads of the others - meaning that they were newer. “Katsuki fixed the button.”

It was something that was so small in the grand scheme of things, but in this moment with the history that you had with the blonde it meant everything. He had taken the time to locate your shirt and reattach the button and patch the small tear, even though he had nothing to do with the damage to your shirt. He’d only been there when it happened, that’s all.

“I’m not good at this shit, but I don’t hate you. Never have.”

He said that to you at the hospital, and you can only laugh to yourself at the fact that he was terrible at this shit. But, clearly, so were you if you’d resigned yourself to never wearing a shirt until you remembered to take it to the dry cleaners when you knew the blonde was capable of fixing it and you just didn’t want to ask.

“God, I suck,” you whisper, lowering the fabric to see Eijirou watching you with a concerned frown. “I suck so much, Eiji.”

“Not right now, baby. You did then, but how you both were then isn’t how you are now,” he reasons, gently pulling the blouse from you and draping it over his shoulder. “Then, yeah, you both sucked a lot but I think it’s safe to say you’ve both grown out of it and are a lot better now.”

“Yeah, but-”

“No buts, and no more living in the past.” His tone is very final as he gently squeezes your hands, and you can only nod while biting your bottom lip. “Stop worrying, or I’ll kiss that frown off your face.”

“That’s the opposite of a threat, Eijirou,” you tease, finally smiling as he pulls you in for a kiss. “He’s out all night?”

“Yeah, why?” You only look up at him, eyebrow raised as your fingers play with the hair at the base of his neck. “Oh! You don’t want to go out anymore?”

“I’d rather have you kiss the frown off of my face, Eiji.”

#alp #kirishima eijirou #bakugou katsuki #kirishima eijirou imagine #kirishima x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou imagine #katsuki bakugo imagine #kiribaku #mha fanfic #bnha fanfic

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addledmongoose · 21 days

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Good Omens Fanfic Friday (30 Aug 2024)

10 Easy Ways To Seduce Your Demon (15K; Rated T) by @waitingtobebroken

Oblivious Crowley is oblivious. After the Notpocalypse, Aziraphale becomes more touchy-feely, uses more endearments, and wants to spend more time with Crowley. What could it possibly mean? By the same author of the marvelous Kidnapping A Supreme Archangel For Fun And Profit series.

***

what a way to make a living (5K; Rated T) by @areyougonnabe

Aziraphale convinces Crowley he needs something to do, so the demon starts driving for Uber. This is partly told from an outsider POV, and it's really sweet and cute. From the author of the hilarious, dearly departed and it's a new craze.

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Our World Will Change (Part 2 of One life, One love) (14K; Rated T) by @thinkinginscripts

Human AU. The sequel to One life, One love, where Aziraphale and Crowley are slaves who fall in love and plan their escape to freedom. I can't really give a plot for this one without spoiling the first story, but if you've read that one, you'll know what the story is about.

***

And my addiction that started last week, a story I actually considered re-reading immediately after finishing both because of and in spite of the word count.

If He’s Your Cleric, Why Is He Putting Me In His Bag of Holding? (300K; Rated E) by @noodlefrog-omens

Human AU (sorta). That word count could've been twice as long, and I still wouldn't think this book had overstayed its welcome, because I absolutely loved every moment of this D&D-inspired story. Don't worry if you've never played a D&D game in your life; you don't need to know anything about it to follow along. Aziraphale is a cleric for an adventuring party that's been given the quest to go into a dungeon and collect a dragon egg from the deepest level. His party (Gabriel, Uriel, Michael, and Sandalphon) abandons him in the dungeon, leaving him at the mercy of the dungeon's denizens. (By the way, the absolute dumbest thing an adventuring group could ever do is abandon their healer, so you know the level of competence Aziraphale is working with here).

Unknown to Aziraphale, he's being stalked by a hungry mimic named Crowley. When he finds a gorgeous book on a shelf in the dungeon (mimics shapeshift into inanimate objects like treasure to ambush prey), he puts it in his magical bag of holding, unaware the book is a living creature. Aziraphale saves Crowley from suffocation in the nick of time, and the two quickly form a friendship as they go to look for Aziraphale's adventuring group, despite Crowley informing him that they deliberately abandoned him.

Both of these characters are wonderfully realized, and the parts of the story from Crowley's POV as he tries to figure out what he's feeling with Aziraphale are really well done and feel realistic. Crowley doesn't have the words to understand what is actually going on with his feelings toward the humanoid he adores but he knows he feels something, and Aziraphale doesn't think a being like Crowley would ever find a humanoid interesting romantically or sexually.

There are puzzles to solve, traps and monsters to avoid, and enemy adventurers to thwart, and there are two (well, really more than) particular standout side characters: Sister Mary, a nun for a Draconic Order that worships the dragon at the bottom of the dungeon, and a kobold clan that works for the dragon and keeps the dungeon properly stocked in deadly traps. All the kobolds are named Eric.

If you don't want to read any of the monsterfucking/tentacle porn, you can read the entire main plot without encountering anything more salacious than a few cheek kisses. Just stop reading after they leave the dungeon and know they'll go on to live happily ever after. Everything after that is them getting to know each other better without the constant fear of death, showing Crowley the surface world, and figuring out how their relationship is going to work. The porn loosely starts in chapter 31 (of 40) and truly starts in chapter 33.

I don't know if the author has any plans for future adventures with these two, but if he does, I know I'll be there to read them.

#good omens fanfiction #good omens #fanfic friday

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donnabenevientosimp · 9 months

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Karlach x Shadowheart x NB!Reader

Tags: contains spoilers abt Shadowheart's real name and her arc, reader is a tiefling and has two tails bc who wouldn't want two tails just to keep wrapped around your gfs, reader may or may not be the child of a devil, depends on what I wrote ofc. Giving Karlach a different ending bc she deserves it, slight major character death, fluff, tiny bit of angst sprinkled in bc I do love my angst/comfort

Requested: yes or no

This one is super long and I don't regret a thing, I love Karlach and Shadowheart

You had managed to get to Baldur's Gate, finally leaving the shadow-cursed lands and healing said shadow lands. You had been roaming around the large city with Karlach and Shadowheart, your girlfriends. You had managed to pick a fight with a mother superior of Shar, the same one who had supposedly 'saved' Shadowheart. After that battle, Shadowheart found her parents and learned her real name and decided to free them despite the curse staying. You had asked her if she wanted to be called Shadowheart still or if you could call her Jenevelle, her real name. She gave you and Karlach the freedom to call her either, saying she didn't mind the way her real name fell off your tongue, with a blush on her cheeks and tips of her ears. "Love, are you alright?" Shadowheart asked and you blinked and looked at her. "Sorry, just thinking about the past few days," you said with a sheepish smile. "What are you thinking about?" Karlach asked and you looked at her. "Helping you two, how I got so lucky to have both of you in my life. I've been thinking of something though, running it by Gale and even Elminster," you said and they looked at you curiously. "What is it?" Karlach asked. "Well, when you were yelling at me after Gortash died and asked if I had a Wish spell stored in my pack, it got me thinking. What if I didn't need so much as a Wish spell to give you heart, than some fine-tuned necromantic rituals? We faced Balthazar who was a necromancer and I kept his notes, we found a Chosen of Myrkul and I killed him, but also kept his notes. I could kill you, temporarily, remove your engine and put a heart into your chest and revive you either with a scroll of revivify or the spell or with the necromancy rituals," you said and looked away from the two of them, scared of what they might say. "You really wanna do those rituals that kill other people just for one person?" Karlach said. "I wouldn't be killing anyone Karlach," you said and she scoffed. "That's the whole point of these rituals. I can't believe you'd actually kill an innocent person and rip their heart out," Karlach said. "Karlach, let them finish," Shadowheart said gently. "No, I don't want some butchered innocent's heart inside me," Karlach said and you stood up and walked off, your tails dragging along the floor, indicating your feelings you didn't want to show. You walked over to Gale and Elminster and gave them a sad smile, walking through the portal to the tower Elminster let you so graciously use. You threw yourself into your research, why? Well Karlach's anger and emptiness after killing Gortash ruined you and you knew she deserved better.

"Tymora, Kelemvor, Jergal, please let this ritual work. I can't lose her," you sighed, wiping away a stray tear. "Hell, if you have an inspiration to give on how to fix it Gond, I'll take it," you muttered, speaking to the gods to see if they could even help a tiny bit. An idea then popped into your head and you went back through the portal. You walked over to Mizora who looked at you. "What can I do for you, Two-Tails?" Mizora asked with a smile. "Take me to Avernus," you said and she rose an eyebrow. "Why?" Mizora asked curiously. "I need to meet someone, you'll know when we get there but only you will know," you said and she smiled. "Very well," Mizora said and grabbed your hand, teleporting you both to Avernus. Your wings forced themselves out of hiding from inside your back and your tails became forked at the ends. "You...," Mizora was speechless. "The only thing I could conceal about my true heritage was my wings and the forked part of my tails. I couldn't figure out how to conceal one of them so I just said I was born with two tails and don't know why," you said and Mizora nodded. "Who is your devilish parent?" Mizora asked. "Glasya, the Archdevil of Malbolge and daughter of Asmodeus," you replied and her eyes widened. "My liege I did not-" "Don't bow Mizora. I, like my mother, have a thing for subtlety," you said and she nodded. "I wish to meet Zariel and see her infernal engine blueprint," you said and Mizora nodded, flapping her wings. "Let's go then," Mizora said and you both took flight. You reached the Bronze Citadel and walked to where Zariel was sitting on her throne. There she sat, the archangel turned archdevil. Her bald head with a halo of flame, black feathery wings with red ends, glowing orange eyes and a flail for an arm. "Archdevil Zariel, Lord of Avernus," you said and she looked at you. "If it isn't Glasya's spawn," Zariel smiled. "I'd like to see your infernal engine blueprints," you said and she nodded and snapped her fingers, the blueprints appearing in her hand. "Here you are," Zariel said and you walked up to her and took the blueprints. "Thank you Zariel. I guess this is payment for me giving you the soul of one of my friends," you said and she smiled. "He will make a fine killer of devils, demons and fiends," Zariel smiled. "I have to return topside, but do keep in touch," you said and gave her a two finger salute before Mizora teleported you both back to camp. "Thanks Mizora," you said and she smiled. "Of course, I live to serve, and well, you keep the surprises coming Pup, I do enjoy them," Mizora said with a grin. "You reek of Avernus, why did you go there?" Wyll asked. "I had some business there Wyll, don't worry, I only stole some things I forgot to steal in the House of Hope," you lied and he nodded.

You then made your way back to the tower and looked over the infernal engine blueprints. "These aren't even meant for people, what the hells Zariel? You put a smaller hellfire engine inside Karlach?" You spoke to yourself out loud. You then looked at the blueprints for an upgraded version of the smaller hellfire engine and noticed whoever made it, wrote it in Primordial. Zariel only spoke Infernal, Abyssal and Celestial, but you chose to learn as many languages as you could. You immediately grabbed all the infernal iron and enriched infernal iron and got to work making the new hellfire engine. After spending several hours on creating the engine you finished it. Turning it on and seeing how it works in the Material Plane. You put your hand on it, it felt warm but not as hot as the Hells, it could work here on the Material Plane and even in the Hells. You smiled widely, you'd done it. You found a cure for Karlach! You turned the engine off and grabbed it, walking to the portal and were back at camp. "I thought you'd be cooped up in that mage's tower for the entire day Pup. Did it work?" Mizora asked. "It did...wait where's Karlach?" You asked, now not seeing your girlfriend. "She said she needed to think things over and went somewhere, said she'd be back later," Mizora said and you nodded sadly. You walked over to the little dock in your camp and sat down with a sigh. You heard a portal open and felt a familiar presence. You turned your head and a smile broke out onto your face. You quickly got up, placing the hellfire engine on the ground. "Mom!" You smiled and hugged her. "Hello my dear," Glasya smiled as she hugged you back. "I heard you went to Avernus, what for?" Glasya asked. "You read my letters? How I found love in two people? One of them is Zariel's old agent, Karlach. I went to Avernus for the blueprints on her infernal engine. Turns out it's a smaller version of a hellfire engine. But whoever made the designs made an upgraded one that can operate on the Material Plane without overheating and wrote it in Primordial, I created it and it works," you said happily and Glasya smiled. "I knew you could do it, little liege," Glasya smiled, brushing her fingers through your hair. "Thanks Mom, I've missed you, so much," you said and she nodded. "I missed you too, have you told anyone of your heritage? Aside from Mizora," Glasya asked and you frowned and shook your head. "No, we've run into Raphael and everyone hated and didn't trust him. I killed him of course, but how could I tell them I'm a devil? Karlach's been used and abused by an archdevil, Wyll was forced to take a deal from a devil to save a city. I can't tell them, they'd hate me, I'd be alone again," you said with a sad sigh. "I see, but what if they don't?" Glasya said and you shrugged. "Well, I hope once you do tell them, let me meet your lovers," Glasya said and you nodded with a smile. "I will," you said and she smiled and placed a kiss on your forehead. "I have to return to Malbolge, but keep in touch okay?" Glasya said and you nodded. "I will Mom, I love you," you said and she smiled. "I love you too little liege, try not to cause too much chaos okay?" Glasya said and you nodded. She then teleported back to Malbolge and you sighed.

"Your mother is a devil?" You heard and turned to see Karlach. "She is," you said and looked down nervously. "Why didn't you tell me?" Karlach asked. "I didn't want you to hate me, or kill me. You went through enough pain with Zariel and Mizora, I didn't want to add on to that with you knowing I was a devil. So I hid my devilish heritage as best I could, except for my tails. I could only make them not forked," you said, playing with one of your tails out of anxiousness. "What's that?" Karlach asked, pointing to the hellfire engine. "Oh, I paid Zariel a visit, asked her for the infernal engine blueprints. She gave them to me freely, but whoever wrote em wrote the upgraded version in Primordial and I was able to make and test it. It works on the Material Plane without overheating," you said and held it. "I wanted to find a cure for you, at any cost because....because I love you so much it hurts me sometimes Karlach. I want to live with you and Jenevelle, wherever that may be and just..be happy with both of you," you said and Karlach smiled, tears streaming down her face. "It really works?" Karlach asked and you nodded. "We'd have to go back to Avernus to safely take out that old engine so it doesn't blow up upon removal," you said and Karlach frowned. "Or we could go to my mom's domain, to her fortress Osseia. I know it's the Sixth Layer of Baator but we'd be safe there," you said and she nodded. "Can Jenevelle come with us?" Karlach asked. "Of course she can, Jen, I know you're lurking around the corner. C'mon," you said and she walked over to you two. "I can never hide from you can I?" Shadowheart smiled. "Mizora, my favorite manipulative bitch, I need your assistance, darling," you said and Mizora walked over to you. "You called my liege?" Mizora said and I smiled. "We are going to Malbolge, to Osseia. I need your assistance in transporting this hellfire engine and my two loves along with me there," you said and she nodded. "Of course my liege," Mizora said with a smile. "Quit with the 'liege' shit I never liked it," you groaned and she giggled.

Mizora and you teleported Shadowheart, Karlach, the hellfire engine and yourselves to Osseia in Malbolge. "At kg qaddqx qaxfx! usw gio ryioftd gioy qibxyz (Oh my little liege! And you brought your lovers)!" Glasya said excitedly in Abyssal. "Kik, Xy sxxw di znadlt dni txqqpayx xsfasxz, nussu txqj (Mom, I need to switch two hellfire engines, wanna help)?" You asked in Abyssal and her smile widened. "Of course I wanna help! Come come," Glasya said excitedly and motioned you all to follow her. You arrived in your research room and you noticed everything was clean but still in the same spot. "I kept it the same when you left, I've been keeping it clean too," Glasya said and you smiled at her. "Thanks Kik (Mom)," you said and she nodded. "Karlach, lay down over here," Glasya said and Karlach looked at you then at Glasya. "How do you know who I am?" Karlach asked. "Y/N told me of course, and of you Shadowheart," Glasya smiled. "Karlach, sweetheart, we unfortunately have to temporarily have you dead while we take out your engine," Glasya said and Karlach nodded slowly. "Don't worry, you're in the best hands, four of them in fact. My little liege is well versed in all types of magic, the little bookworm that they are. They've even had a visit from a Chosen from one of the death gods, the god commended them for their work!" Glasya said with a proud smile. "Kik (Mom)," you groaned and she looked at you. "What? Am I not allowed to brag about my child to your lovers?" Glasya said and you sighed, a blush dusting your cheeks and ears. "Karlach, love, would you like a painless death?" You asked and looked at her. "Yes, you'll bring me back after it's installed right?" Karlach asked. "Of course I will," you said and walked over to her. You gently cupped her cheek and kissed her. "Ah, the literal and classic kiss of death," Glasya said as Karlach peacefully and quickly died. Your eyes and hands glowed green as you grabbed hold of Karlach's soul. "Kidtxy (Mother), can you hold her soul?" You asked and she nodded and grabbed hold of Karlach's soul. You precisely and quickly opened her chest up and commanded the engine to shut off and removed it. You then grabbed the upgraded engine and put it in her chest, commanding it to turn on. It glowed and started up, running smoothly and without any complications. You then magically closed Karlach's chest without leaving scars and nodded to your mother. Karlach's soul was put back in her body and she stirred awake. "Hello love," you smiled and she opened her eyes with a smile. "How do you feel?" You asked. "Better, not overwhelmingly hot," Karlach said as she sat up. "It worked....it worked! You did it!" Karlach said with a laugh. "The only time those flames of yours change colors is the same as it was with your old engine," you said with a smile. "O-Oh," Karlach said, a dark red blush on her cheeks as some flames exited out of the vent holes in her arms. "I do hope I'll be invited for a nxwwasf (wedding) soon," Glasya said, looking at you expectantly. Your ears and cheeks went red, your tails wagging slightly. "Kik (Mom)!" You said embarrassedly and she looked at you. "I'm serious, little liege. I expect a pxn fyusweawz (few grandkids) too," Glasya said and you nodded. "I know, but, we have a-" "Illithid issue I know. I meant after you take care of that blasted thing," Glasya said and you nodded. "I know. Uhm, Jen, Karla, can you go get Mizora?" You said and they nodded and left the room. Once they left you quickly pulled out two small boxes. "I planned on proposing to both of them sometime this week," you said and Glasya smiled. "Oh, they're beautiful! You made them of course, I know your metalwork and jewelry making anywhere," Glasya said and you nodded, quickly putting the boxes back into your pocket. "Marrying them in Baator will make their souls bound to you, they'll become ageless," Glasya said and you nodded. "I know, but that's their decision," you said and she nodded.

Once back at camp, you led the three of them to a nearby rooftop as the sun was rising. "I wanted to do this now, because I know we may not have much time left but I hope we have years to spend together. When I met you both, you both captivated me, I definitely fell in love with both of you at first sight. I want to make you both happy, to love you both, for as long as you'll let me. So, I ask the both of you this: will you marry me?" You said as you got down on one knee, taking out both boxes and opening the boxes to reveal the rings. "Yes!" Karlach said happily. "Are you joking? Of course I will!" Shadowheart smiled. You stood up, slipping the rings on their fingers and kissing both of them. "How long have you been planning this?" Shadowheart asked. "A couple weeks," you said with a smile. "I do want you both to know, if you get married to me in Baator, your souls will be bound to me as mine will be to yours and you will become ageless," you said and they nodded. "It's an option for our marriage but we can get married here, and in Baator or just here or just Baator," you said and they nodded. "I want to spend my life with you, if I can become ageless to spend an eternity with you, then I'll do it," Shadowheart said and you smiled. "You took the words out of my mouth Jen," Karlach said and you smiled. Your tails wrapped around Karlach's tail and Shadowheart's arm as you smiled at the two of them. "I love you both, no matter what may come. Be it Sharrans for your head as a sacrifice Jenevelle, or whatever people we piss off Karlach, I wouldn't change it for anything," you said and they smiled. "I love you too Y/N," they both said, kissing your cheeks.

#karlach x reader #shadowheart x reader #karlach x shadowheart #karlach x shadowheart x reader #oneshot requests #oneshot #sfw oneshot

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enchantedruin · 8 days

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I sat across from you, the dim lighting of the bunker casting long shadows across the room. You were quiet, as you often are when I speak, waiting for the moment when my words would demand a response from you. But tonight, it was different. I could see it in your eyes—the curiosity. That gnawing, burning need for understanding. You wanted to know what I thought. About what? Religion. Faith. The gods your kind have so foolishly worshiped.

"Faith," I said, my voice barely louder than a whisper, letting the words roll off my tongue like poison. I watched as your gaze flickered, searching my face for a clue to what I truly believed.

"It’s a beautiful lie, isn’t it?" I began, leaning back in my chair, my fingers tapping lightly on the armrest. "A system built to keep the masses compliant, to give them hope, to make them believe they are more than just dust and bones. A convenient illusion, spun by those too afraid to face the truth of their own insignificance."

Your brow furrowed, and I could tell you were already thinking of your own beliefs. Your faith—or whatever was left of it. But I wasn’t finished. Not yet.

"Don’t misunderstand me," I continued, my tone sharpening as I leaned forward, watching the way you tensed at my shift in posture. "I’m not saying belief is meaningless. On the contrary, belief is powerful. It shapes reality. But organized religion? That’s nothing but control. It’s a cage, a gilded prison where you’re told what to think, how to feel, who to worship. And for what? Salvation?"

I couldn’t help but laugh softly, the sound low and bitter. I caught your eyes again, seeing the conflict there, the flicker of doubt.

"Salvation," I repeated, my voice dripping with disdain. "The promise of a life beyond this one. It’s the oldest trick in the book, isn’t it? Keep them docile with promises of heaven while you bleed them dry here on Earth."

Your fingers twitched, a small movement, but one that didn’t escape my notice. I wondered how far your own belief stretched. Did you believe in heaven? In a benevolent god waiting for you with open arms?

"Tell me," I asked, my voice softening, almost coaxing. "Do you still believe? After everything you’ve seen—after everything *I’ve* shown you?"

You hesitated, and I smiled, knowing that hesitation all too well. It was the same hesitation I’d seen a thousand times before, in the eyes of those who still wanted to believe in something greater than themselves. In something kind.

"I suppose you think I’m just bitter, don’t you?" I mused, leaning back again. "You think I’m angry at God—*your* god—because He abandoned me." I chuckled, though there was no humor in the sound. "But that’s the thing, you see... I was never abandoned. I was never *His* to begin with. The universe didn’t make a mistake with me. I wasn’t born broken. I was born to be the darkness you all fear."

I could see the shift in you then, the way you stiffened at the edge of my words. I let them hang in the air, watching as you tried to reconcile the image of me with the gods you once prayed to.

"Religion tells you to follow blindly. To obey. To kneel," I said, the last word leaving my mouth with venom. "But the truth is, there’s nothing holy about bending the knee. There’s no salvation in submission. Only weakness."

I stood, the weight of my presence making the air feel heavier, darker. I stepped closer to you, watching the way your breath hitched, waiting to see if you’d shy away from the truth—or from me.

"You don’t need salvation," I whispered, leaning down just enough for you to feel the cold of my breath on your skin. "You don’t need to be saved by gods who don’t even care to know your name."

I paused, watching you, waiting for your eyes to meet mine. "You want power. Freedom. The ability to shape your own destiny, to take control of your life—not hand it over to some unseen force in the sky."

The silence between us was thick, charged with the weight of everything unsaid. I stepped back, my gaze still locked onto yours.

"So tell me," I said, my voice now a soft murmur, "why would you ever want to go back to that? To the rules, the rituals, the chains of a system designed to keep you small?"

I didn’t expect an answer. I didn’t need one. The truth was already there, etched in the way your lips pressed together, in the storm brewing behind your eyes. You were still clinging to the remnants of what you once believed, but deep down, you knew the truth.

#michael langdon pov #wrote this on my phone so it’s not in pretty format but whatevs #ahs #americanhorrorstory #ahs apocalypse #michael x reader #religion talk

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alicerosejensen · 1 year

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OK. I did it anyway! Finished the translation and tried as best he could. Part 3

I have a lot of debt, but I did it!

Good ending attached. If you like the bad ending of this story then please stop at 2 parts.

There's also a bit of angst here, a mention of smut.

I listened to a bunch of songs while writing this. In fact, there was a gigantic temptation to make Leon's girlfriend run away again, but I decided to fix the broken hearts of readers.

English is not my native language (I will write this as often as possible so that I don't get tomato thrown at me for mistakes). But I tried.

The text is quite large. I do not know if anyone has the strength to master it.

All efforts crumbled like a house of cards. All hopes that your relationship could still be saved were destroyed from the very day when you finally left, taking one suitcase with you.

For Leon, it was still an idiotic comedy that dragged on for a long time. He kept calling, texting, trying to talk to you about this misunderstanding. But you just cut him out of your life right away, without even giving him an attempt to explain everything.

But the comedy turned into a nightmare. Because Leon realized that you really left. A rather dirty game: to become the one who gave him peace and true love, and then in one second set fire to a small flowering island in his soul, leaving ashes behind.

Leon let you get too close to him. So close that he began to consider you his own. At some point, it even seemed to him that no one could love the way he loved you. But now you have turned the blue sky into black, discarding it as an unnecessary thing. Sometimes, stretching out his hand, lying on the bed, Leon woke up, thinking that since you are not around, then you are in the kitchen. You probably eat breakfast while looking at your phone.

But then he remembered.

You've gone. With tears, creating from his image a monster that hurt you throughout the relationship. You have done worse than Ada. It was a hundred times more painful. Leon knows it's crazy, but for just one night with you, he would give his life.

The only woman who has always been on his side. He wanted to feel the soft cotton of your gray T-shirt, but only your hands could be more gentle.

You have always been so pure that the world could be silenced by such innocence and angelic beauty. All the stars could go out if only something happened to you. You are a rare angel, in whose arms nothing hurts, who descended to him, to the last sinner, constantly fighting in an endless hell. Maybe someone decided that he received too much grace?

Leon would agree with that. But he's not ready to accept it. You said that you love him, despite the fact that he supposedly has feelings for Ada, and if he can convince you otherwise, then perhaps his beloved will return to him

But you didn't want to be in that cage. The whole situation with Leon, in your opinion, resembled the plot of Dolly Parton's song "Jolene", where Jolene is Ada Wong, whom you could beg not to take your lover. After all, as Jolene, Ada was the embodiment of an unearthly ideal. With a voice as soft as summer rain and with a smile like the breath of spring… Ha, you grinned remembering the words of the song.

What could you, a simple student, compare to this Ada-Jolene? Leon kept her compact in his bedside table and you still feel the reproach of envy that you will never become such a woman. You still cry when you think how many times he imagined an elusive mercenary in your place. But your happiness does not depend on Ada. You were able to find the strength to open the birdcage and run out to freedom, breathing in fresh air.

Leon used you. Crushed your heart into a piece of paper and threw it into the fire like the last scoundrel. But here you took out a burnt ember, intending to take care of it and already now you see that the first sprouts of trust in other men break into the light. However, love is not knocking at your door yet.

Because there is one huge problem: no matter how much pain Leon caused you, you want to leave him in your memories. Salty rivers of tears flow down your eyes almost every night, forcing you to curl up in the fetal position with your hands pressed to your chest when you read his messages. These are such ruthless blows that literally destroyed your soul. He's already traumatized you enough, so why doesn't he stop it already?!

The whole body and soul are screaming: help me! And the mind doesn't want to forget his fucking name and touch. You can't go back to Leon Scott Kennedy because he will bring nothing but evil. Say to yourself and remember forever: goodbye, my love for this man, because my heart can no longer bear this sick love.

You met in the spring and broke up in the spring. How much joy and sadness this time of year has brought you!

How much pain there is in the world, and all because of fucking love.

But for Leon it was completely different.

It was the middle of the day, when the sun was still high in the sky, promising to illuminate the streets with its light for at least another three or four hours. Late autumn time, Leon didn't want to get out of his mostly, alcohol-smelling apartment, but he had to write a report and hand it over to Hannigan, despite the overdue deadlines. To gather his thoughts a little for an answer, Leon went into a nice cafe, hiding from the strong wind, hoping that in addition to all kinds of desserts, he could order coffee to take away.

Ordinary strong coffee without sugar and hopes that it will not taste like bile.

The arrival of a new visitor was announced by a ringing bell, to the ringing of which the waiter immediately raised his head from his business. Leon was not going to linger, he walked past the tables with a few visitors until the familiar smell of women's perfume hit his nose.

And stopped.

He forgot about everything: Hannigan, the report, his job. About everything that brought him pain from your departure, because right now you were sitting with your back to him in a warm beige dress, holding a glass with some kind of drink with one hand and writing something in your notebook with the other pen, completely ignoring anyone.

All Leon wanted at this very second was to grab you in his arms and never let you go again.

How did this even happen? Why did you, loving him dearly, renounce him in an instant?

And yet your mere presence lifts him from the thorn-strewn earth. Only a meter separated you from each other, but Leon is already burning to the ground. It didn't matter if you were an angel or a demon, you were his love. His restless bird that flew away from him because it could. Because you believed he could still love another woman.

You look like two fools, each of whom believes in his own truth.

You were so serene, calm and nondescript to others. Strawberry ice cream almost melted from lack of your attention or you just didn't find it tasty enough to finish. Leon completely forgot why he came to this cafe. Illuminated by the evening sunlight, you looked like a work of art that you were so fond of.

A slight smile, careless strokes of a strange drawing in a notebook…you looked tired and a little thinner, but for him you remained the most beautiful. Aesthetic - Leon remembers that you like this word.

Did he have the right to disturb you? Like a mirage, Leon didn't want to scare away the one he loved because he knew if he touched you now, you would disappear again. Messages, calls - there were many of them and not one received a response.

If his love really brought you so much suffering, do you need it? Is he really that selfish? But now you tensed up, feeling someone else's gaze on your back, and as if small droplets of crystals began to beat anxiously against each other like wind music warning about who you are desperately trying to get out of your head.

But there was no soulful cry of "run."

You knew he was there. Behind. The heart did not stop with horror - it trembled with excitement. God, don't turn around! So much was lost because of Leon: dreams, hopes, trust, heart…

The palette of the endless emptiness of weekdays turned into slightly brighter colors.

Leon touched your shoulder and you shuddered lifting your head up. It was impossible to ignore this meeting and there was nowhere else to run. His touch was so welcome. The body responded to him by itself, trying to cling closer to feel the forgotten warmth. It was so good.

Suddenly you felt like a drug addict who received a long-awaited dose of the drug.

The purest buzz.

You still didn't say anything, just stared into those diamond eyes, completely losing yourself. By looking at it, you can experience all kinds of death. You wanted to finally surrender to him, submit and accept the inevitable, and then fall asleep in a tight embrace - all for the sake of the illusory hope of not being number 2.

What idiot said that time heals? There wasn't a night or a day when you didn't think about him.

You want to tell everyone to go to hell, and yourself first, because you're the last fool. A proud fool who can't live without him. Damn pride. Leon took a step forward, swallowing loudly, grabbing your shoulder with his other hand, but it didn't hurt. He looked at you as if he was afraid that you would melt into thin air.

You love each other very much, and each of you thinks that one of you does not love the other.

In an instant, everything collapsed in November. Leon knelt down, still squeezing your shoulders. Curse this month. He pressed you to him and you buried your face in his shoulder, inhaling the smell of a leather jacket and barely perceptible cologne. The stubble scratched the skin unpleasantly, but now these sensations were so pleasant.

If Leon doesn't disappear right now, it's going to be the worst month on the calendar. An unhappy month that will leave another stab wound. Your first true love and not a stupid infatuation…Whatever Carey says, it's impossible to forget Leon. There is no longer the strength to drown in it, grasping at a thin thread of feeling.

"Let's talk" - you're definitely a drug addict. His voice was like heroin causing euphoria. Rough and stringy at the same time. The infernal rejection started from him again.

The waiter's voice sounded like a soft soprano, and Leon reluctantly pulled away from you, but did not let go, as if he was afraid that you would jump up from your seat and run away, grabbing your coat. The lungs let out a heavy sigh, but you didn't want to talk to him. It was as if you were afraid that he would have words that would make you return to this anarchy of abnormal relationships. When he loves one woman and sleeps with a completely different one.

"I don't want to, go away," - you whispered, pushing him away with your palm. It was a terrible gesture. But you endured for a long time, accepting his lies, running after him like an obedient dog.

Love is not when it hurts you. And he mocks you and jokes, building those puppy dog eyes. He pretends that this separation is also hard for him. As if he wasn't a soulless being who took advantage of the trust of a girl in love with him.

But the idiotic heart keeps shouting to him, "Love me for a long, long time!" and Leon seems to hear him.

Leon grins, feeling butterflies flutter in his stomach. How many bridges can you burn?

But he strokes your head, runs his fingers through your hair.

"We'll just talk. Please stop ignoring me!"

"Stop foaming at the mouth to prove to me that the mysterious spy in red does not live in your head."

Keep your finger on the pulse and run. After paying for lunch, you grabbed your coat and walked briskly to the exit. And only when Leon caught up with you on the street, trying to stop you by grabbing your wrist, you turned into a scorpion who tried to escape using all his poison.

It's the same thing again.

"You're the worst thing that's ever happened in my life!"- that's what you finally shouted out to him along with all the other shit, but it was this phrase that killed him completely. The gaze seemed to read information from your face, as if checking it for truthfulness. The fucking detector gave out the truth.

"Someone like you never knew what love was. You know what's funny? To Ada Wong, you're just a puppet. A toy that she can play with whenever she wants, and then put it on the shelf and forget." - You poured out your burning poison, turning words into caustic acid to kill him once and for all, despite your tear-stained face. - "That's enough! I will never forgive you! Run after your elusive spy and leave me alone. I deserve to be happy. I'm already broken inside by your fucking love!"

It wasn't fair. You just tore him apart with those words. He's never even half loved you, he's never compared you to anyone! But nothing will bring you back to him. You will no longer illuminate his pitch darkness with your light. Leon really felt like a bastard who trampled on someone who loved him.

He stood there, looking after you, listening to your hysterical sobs, while you ran away again to lick the wounds inflicted. It seemed like you were about to fall to the ground and die from all this pain. All those months that you have not seen him, in no way helped you to stop loving this man. Because things have only gotten worse.

You wanted to lie down and die. Everything you were rebuilding exploded again, turning you into ruins. Ada Wong would never have allowed herself to do that. But the pain you felt became physical. Your head is spinning, the world has become so crazy and alien, sickeningly disgusting, because all the protective mechanisms of orgasm just fail you after all the continuous work. You just screamed from all the injustice that happened to you, and the name of this injustice was Leon S.Kennedy. The fucking bastard who caused you to fall into the mud, acting like an escaped lunatic.

"I hate you," - Leon heard it. The most terrible thing is that he realized that he was destroying you. Your body was experiencing physical pain - spasms, and you already needed professional help. And yet he cradled you like a baby in his arms until you fainted.

One thing you didn't have time to say: despite the fact that you were burning alive, your stupid little heart continues to seek salvation in Leon. It hurts her, but she calls him for help, begging for caring kisses and warm hugs.

What does it feel like to be a girl with a sensitive heart and a brave soul? The moment you discovered that he still loves Ada made you split into many pieces. Lying in a hospital bed, taking medications whose names you don't remember, you heard your mother's muffled crying and fell asleep under it, pulling the blanket over your shoulders, as if under a white noise. Your father stroked your head as if you were a child, slightly dulling the pain that was pounding in your chest.

"You will be sad and forget" - that's what your mother told you when she found out that the cause of the disease was a man. "You won't even remember that you once loved him there."

But you didn't want to forget him. You're so tired of falling asleep thinking about him… because even when you close your eyes like a phantom, you continue to see him. How can you live with this poison in your soul? Leon poisoned you and didn't even send you flowers, considering that he got you into the hospital because of him. And yet part of you was waiting for him to come.

Leon didn't come.

Nervous breakdown on the background of constant stress. Friends also came to find out about your well-being, but only Carey stayed for a long time, trying to pull you out of oblivion, which the brain could not cope with.

She didn't say a word about Leon, fearing that any mention of him would provoke a violent reaction again. Everyone kept saying that everything would be fine and you'd be coming home soon. Did you really feel a little better, but did you feel depressed just thinking about what would happen next? Your beloved friend disappeared as you wanted.

It is in vain to grieve about a failed relationship that was still beautiful, despite the subsequent horror.

"It was wonderful. Goodbye, Leon," you said to yourself when you found a little strength to admit that he is not a monster at all. Time is fleeting, and nothing lasts forever, and you are also unlucky to find happiness in this man.

Drive all thoughts of him away and remember that you are no longer the two of you. Find the strength to learn to live without him and suppressed the passionate feeling of rushing to him under the door banging on it with his fists.

Burn this brand on yourself.

In fact, even in the void can be cozy. When the day of discharge came, your father insisted that you come home again and recover a little from the experience. But you knew that if you came home, you would never erase Leon from your memory. If there was a record with his name on it, you would have listened to it until I broke it.

It's like you've been living in a dark paradise now. There are no medications for memory, but the ones that you started taking clearly muffle all feelings, allowing you to focus on studying. It was quiet and cold in this dark paradise because Leon wasn't there, but you still remembered how your pain-filled body fell to the floor. And yet there was one significant plus that allowed you to live - it was peaceful in this paradise.

And yet, as if you were a lost thing on the shelf, it did not leave you.

November is a really disgusting month. The whole world seemed to be turned upside down. There was the usual calmness with the absence of something important.

But then stability came.

You and Leon don't talk anymore. Apparently, what was said greatly influenced him, but the flowers in your soul still do not bloom. His love for you is still breathing and part of him knows that you love him, but he will prefer to give you a chance to forget him and all the memories associated with him, given how he hurt your soul.

He would like to stay in your life, but not after what he did.

Therefore, he was content with what was left to him. Polaroids from your vacation with him and memories…and some things that you forgot at his place. Meaningless little things, but he kept them. Everyone focused on their lives. You were riding with friends on a bike, exposing your face to the wind, hugging a friend. Leon is back from his work. And everyone missed the other.

But there is no desire to fall into this abyss anymore. Then it was time for healing, it seemed that the impossible was happening, but fate desperately liked to bring your roads together.

Your face is a real masterpiece against the background of daubs. Among the hundreds, Leon noticed you with your bestia when you were choosing some kind of gift, he looked at you from afar.

The cradle of his suffering… Leon feels like he is filled with love for you again, watching you laugh merrily after recovering from all the wounds that he inflicted on you. So cheerful… he had no right to be with you. With the people he values, something happens all the time, but this time he himself is the one who repeatedly stabbed in the back.

You never blamed Ada for your failure, only him, and it was deserved, because until the moment of your loss, Leon still found these meetings… more personal and intimate even if sex between them has not been for a long time. Just something else attracted him, but he would never let ordinary attraction destroy what he really loves.

However, that's exactly what he did. A stupid compact left somewhere in the corner of the bedside table, which he still had from China… you made the wrong conclusions by backing them up with that inappropriate message on his phone and it was still enough to leave him forever. But now you were laughing and it warmed Leon, how he wants to hear this sound again at home, along with numerous words of tenderness.

It was not worth looking at you for so long because some force pulling each other forced you to find this gaze from which you can die and rise again. Everything beautiful has remained very far away. None of you will say a simple "hello" to the other, and yet why are you silent like fools?

Thanks to the pills, all the senses were dulled a little, allowing a stupid thought to slip into your head - to talk to him.

The doctor prescribed you treatment: medications, rest and moderate physical activity, and somewhere between the lines he wrote in invisible ink "no Leon Kennedy." And you're drowning in this swamp again, violating all the doctor's orders. It doesn't hurt yet, but it's already scary to exhale if you stumble, fall into the water and have to start over.

These silent glances with each other… everyone is afraid to take an extra step, because everything can collapse. Leon doesn't want to be the cause of your tears, he's already brought enough shit to a dear person. Everything beautiful has remained very far away. None of you will say a simple "hello" to the other, and yet why are you silent like fools?

Thanks to the pills, all my senses were dulled a little, allowing a stupid thought to slip into my head - to talk to him. You said a lot to him that day, a lot of things he didn't really deserve, trapping him.

But only now are you wondering: did you notice any moments correctly or did you come up with a reason for leaving? After all, sometimes you could catch the scent of someone else's perfume on his clothes and still believe that there is only him and you. Maybe Ada marked it on purpose so that you could figure out who it really belongs to? What if it was her subtle sign for you?

"Stay away from my territory"

But there was another truth. Your bestie got distracted looking at some jewelry in the window when you watched Leon leave. Have you ever wondered who is a masochist God or is it you? It looks like it was you, because no god forced you to follow him. And Leon felt this persecution, which made him turn around when he saw your indecisive face.

You yourself took a step towards him, and the heart itself began to revive after a long hibernation. The truth is, you had no idea what to say.

It was you who wiped away his tears when he was in too much pain.

It was you who banished all his fears when he woke up in the middle of the night.

You were holding his hand. Not Ada.

"I'm sorry…" You nodded for some reason. - "I'm not… princess… this is a chance meeting. I didn't want to bother you, so you wouldn't think about me.

"I know." - Leon barely heard what you said to him, looking away from his eyes. "I'm sorry for what I said to you then.

"What?" - his reaction made your lips smile with a kind smile that he could not forget. Leon seemed really discouraged, but you just turned around to look at Carey to make sure she wouldn't go crazy when she saw who you were talking to. Definitely, it's all because of the pills.

"I said you were the worst thing that happened in my life, but that's not true. In fact, I only told you a lot because I wanted you to be as hurt as I was. However, I shouldn't have done that. You're a good man. I behaved terribly, like a naughty child."

Leon couldn't understand what had just happened to him. His pupils seemed to widen at the impossible words and your ridiculous apologies. After all, if anyone should be apologizing, it's him, because he drove you to a nervous breakdown. He shook his head, just in case checking to see if you were a figment of his imagination, but you were still standing there. Right in front of him. Was what was happening a prank?

Maybe it's karma?

"You don't have to apologize" - all Leon could squeeze out of himself and you just shrugged your shoulder for a long time without answering anything.

"I apologize for saying too much. It's my fault that I ended up in the hospital, not yours. But I'm not apologizing for that…" Ada's name stuck in throat.

"For leaving?" - Leon grinned when you silently agreed with him. - "At least you had the right to. I don't want to hurt you anymore. You've had enough of me already. "

He wanted to touch you. Just to touch your cheek or hand one last time. He didn't want to let you go, but he knew he couldn't keep around if you didn't want to. Leon snorts, trying to shake off this desire. What kind of kisses can we talk about if you don't love him? All hopes for at least some stability in his life burst like a balloon, and Leon himself held the needle in his hands.

"Thank you for your wonderful attitude!" - You shoot him again, saying these words, and Leon recoils from the one he was so eager to see. - "Even if we didn't succeed, I'm still grateful to you. The last few months have been difficult, but it's my own fault. You didn't promise me anything… I've had time to think. With this Ada, everything is much more complicated and longer for you than with me, and I probably didn't want to admit it to myself. I put on pink glasses and didn't want to see anything but pink shades. You didn't need my heart, and you told me about it at the very beginning, but that's how young she is…" - You laughed nervously, feeling that the effect of the pills seems to be starting to evaporate. - Someone has watched too many movies about love. Forgive me for these tantrums if you can."

Carey screamed loudly and you both turned around at her exclamation when she pulled you by the hand trying to take you away from this man. It even amused you a little, but something still pleased your poor soul more - you were able to admit to yourself that your fault was present in this breakup. Not just Leon.

Leon didn't have time to say a word, but it was in vain for him to be sad. You have forgiven him and yourself. It was the most important event that finally brought a bit of long-awaited relief.

There was only one thing you didn't want to understand, either the brain was using a dirty autosuggestion technique, or it was the pills that dorktor prescribed for you. but the point is this:

Kennedy needed your heart. He needed your love, because everything he had, he had already given to you.

He should have apologized, not you. He wanted to come to the hospital to pick you up, but changed his mind at the last moment, fearing that his presence would complicate the situation. And yet Leon followed you to the exit when Carey shouted at him not to dare approach.

It seems that this is the reason for your separation . The one who hammered into you the idiotic idea that you were his "meat for fucking".

But you are no longer running away from him, however, is it really necessary to break into an already destroyed world again, where he destroyed everything. Leon no longer leaves messages, does not call and does not look for a meeting, and you also began to live quietly feeling only constant fatigue and unwillingness to do anything. And it didn't work out with the guys, there were friends, but it didn't go beyond fun gatherings, even if they tried to flirt.

Looks like your heart still belongs to Leon. For him, it's probably a souvenir, and you have a hole in your chest.

Do you remember that bar where we met for the first time? Now, sitting at the same table, you're looking at the place where Leon was with some damn expensive bottle of whiskey. Without thinking about anything. You straightened your legs and just indulged in sweet memories that no longer caused any harm. It's a little sad, but you're still too young to be disappointed in yourself.

Previously, there was some kind of vigorous cocktail of disappointment, hatred, sadness and contempt inside, but now there is absolutely nothing. It's like you finally got a sobering slap in the face, returning to your former state and admitting that suffering is shit.

Was there any point in talking to Leon? He's probably already broken up with his feeble-minded girlfriend and now he's either found another one or is chasing Ada-their favorite cat-and-mouse game. Of course, he really has some part of your cosmetics left in his apartment, a favorite mug, maybe something else… oh! a notebook. What a stupid thing, because there was nothing important in this notebook except funny drawings and a list of products. Well, maybe something else in small things. Leon probably threw everything away a long time ago.

Although you would like to return the mug.

The mug that he gave you with an idiotic inscription.

You unlocked your phone and saw some excited messages from your father. After quickly answering them, you clicked on Leon's number. Just one click separated you. You could have texted or called, but you spat and just put the phone back in your pocket. It would be necessary to delete his number.

And he still has your damn expensive perfume. It is not like the one used by Ada Wong - her fragrance is dominated by fresh citrus notes combined with something cold. A grenade? You liked calmer floral scents. Lilac and gooseberry have a good aroma.

And you would have torn it off with your own hands. Because the bottle cost a lot of money, and was in a limited collection. For some reason, now you remember him and it became so insulting that you lost such an expensive thing (even if Kennedy bought it for you again). But it's still a damn stupid reason to look for a meeting with him!

In general, you should have been kicked out of his head too. Leon kept your things close on purpose but didn't touch them. One part of him hoped that you would remember them and come to pick them up, and the other party was afraid that then he would have nothing left. The last memories will be gone. He loved flipping through your notebook, finding funny the drawings you made while you were sitting at boring lectures.

He doesn't care, he knows that you liked this perfume, and he also knows that you can't afford such a luxury right now. It's a shitty act to look for a meeting with you again when all the dots are already set.

Even though he wants to see you, can he really let you go later?

However… he wants to write to you. Fingers are already typing a message when an alert with your number and a short phrase appears in front of the screen: Can I pick up some things?

Holy shit! YES!

Leon answered immediately. The usual "yes" despite the fact that everything inside was screaming. A couple of minutes later, another message came asking when you could do it and he wanted to answer in a sarcastic manner, what exactly is for you at any convenient time.

But the line came out the usual "when you want, then take it." Maybe it was a little rude.

Nothing else followed. Leon had no idea when to expect you. Apartment was in terrible condition. In addition, there was your wilted cactus on the computer table. Cactus. Wilted. Maybe because his hostess collected all the belongings and left forgetting him?

Leon didn't know how to take care of him at all. Just poured half-drunk water into a small flower pot, and that's it. The flower that grew on it has long disappeared, and the cactus itself has turned yellow. He turned the pot over in his hand, looking at it from all sides, wondering if it could be fixed somehow in a short time, but decided that if it really upset you, he would buy exactly the same one.

At least to make it up to you a little.

After about an hour of thinking, there was a quiet knock on the door. Leon, casting a cursory glance once again at the unfortunate cactus, let you into the apartment pretty quickly, but you stood there for a few more seconds as if you were afraid to enter the lion's den, which would certainly bite off your head if he crossed the threshold of the apartment.

"Hey," - Your hand waved nervously in the air as a greeting when you were here again, afraid of being captured by your own memories.

Leon only apologized for the mess (although he managed to clean up some things while you were just standing outside the door for about 30 minutes, gaining strength to knock) and offered you tea, knowing how much you love him. A great opportunity to find out what happened to your favorite mug, but you refused first of all by casting a glance at the withered plant.

"I watered him from time to time." He hesitated, scratching his head with his hand. - "Maybe he needed fertilizer, but I didn't know anything about it, especially since it's a cactus!.. Okay sweetheart, just let me buy you a new one or something.

Your laughter slightly diluted the gloomy atmosphere, and Leon clearly felt better.

"It's all right." - A small pot appeared in your hands with the intention of taking it and then throwing it away. - "To be honest, this guy has been sick for a long time. Eventually, he still fell to the death of the brave."

You smiled wearily, making some kind of hero out of a cactus, and your ex-boyfriend also picked up the cheerful mood, lowering his head as he leaned back against the bar, watching his angel take the last thing he had left from this relationship.

Leon compares this to the fact that you gave him the strongest and most beautiful wings when you agreed to be with him. Something truly pure and bright, which allowed him to fight with bioweapons, only for the sake of you and your kind. And now with relentless cruelty you are tearing these wings along with the spine. As the most severe punishment for a mistake.

You silently gather your things, trying not to let your hands shake as Leon watches your actions, fighting the urge to try to stop you again.

Inside, it feels like a guitar string is breaking or sad chords are playing in the soul. One sentence: All gone. You will be left behind, like another experienced chapter of his life, but the fact that the pages of this chapter were full of sincere joy only makes it worse.

Leon's eyes are on the lookout for anything that might help you change your mind. Turn the pages of the book of life a little back and rewrite the plot, correcting this misunderstanding. Although luck is not on his side again.

How to regain lost trust?

It was hardly possible. He could show you those messages from Ada, try to prove that the powder box has been in the trash for a long time, but would you believe him?

He called you by your name as you put the rest of your cosmetics in your bag, thinking that Leon didn't have anything particularly important from your things left. Of course, you turned around meeting with those eyes in which if you look for a long time you can drown, but now only Leon was choking of the two.

"You said then that I didn't promise you anything. it was true, I didn't really make any promises. No vows that I want a family, children and everything else that normal people have, since my work does not imply their presence." - Leon moved to a safe distance so you wouldn't feel uncomfortable. Unlike you, even when under stress, he was well oriented and adjusted to the situation, because your eyes were already watering. - "I don’t understand at all what you saw in me that you fell in love with so much, but it was not non-reciprocal. Maybe I didn't say much, but I meant it. These gifts, trips, dinners in restaurants..."

"In your words, I became like a gold digger who managed to find a rich fool." - You interrupted him with a loud squelching nose.

"What?... oh no! Fuck... I didn't mean it. I just know I screwed up. I have a whole carload of problems that I didn't want and don't want to involve you in. Ada - is in this carload . You are right, a lot connects me with her and the story is very long, but believe me, this is not at all what I really want. When I was 21, it was damn interesting. I was attracted to her for many years until that outbreak in Lanshiang. I won’t lie, we met not only on missions, but also after them; Ada has repeatedly saved and helped me; I will not lie and say that I have never had sex with her, but! There is a huge difference between the usual attraction to each other and really sincere feelings. And you were never fucking meat to me!" - Leon raised his voice, but not to hurt you. These crystal blue eyes resembling ice, no matter how paradoxical it may sound, could melt the heart of anyone. He was the one who could turn you into a puddle in seconds. - "From the moment you agreed to be with me, I had no relationship with Ada other than working. Even in my thoughts. We have our own style of communication - it's true. Flirting and banter, but when you showed up…I didn't need anything else."

"Nevertheless, you have loved her for more than ten years. It's not an attachment anymore, Leon. It's weird that I have to explain this to you." - There was no longer that stone in your chest that prevented you from speaking. You felt like a kind of abbess who reveals the truth to the boy standing in front of you (who was much older). - "We managed to get into all this dirt like this…"

"Was our relationship dirt for you?" - You looked up at him. You could clearly see the experience, pain and sadness. As if what happened broke him completely. Leon frowned, waiting for your long answer. - "I haven't always been open with you, and yes, you deserve a younger guy. Someone from your college or just a nice man your age. But you really were the best episode in my life, despite the fact that things weren't always smooth between us."

"It's not about me" - The lip gloss that you were restlessly twisting in your hands all this time finally fell out, rolling to Leon's feet, as if it was a sign to finally approach him, but you were afraid of getting burned again.- "Understand me… I want to be loved. For real. I'm not a fool either, although you probably think I am…"

"I never thought that about you. Naive, careless - yes. But you always had enough brains."

"Women like Ada Wong… -" you kept trying to ignore Leon's gaze. - "You can't get them out of your head. A kind of fatal beauty, capable of hitting any man to death. Such women have no rivals, and you do not consider it an insult, but she chose you, which means that you belong to her forever. However, you don't mind, do you? If I were you, I wouldn't be able to resist her either."

"Yes… - Leon smiled very unpleasantly, sitting down on the edge of the bed, throwing you your lip gloss, which you managed to catch and throw into a gym bag. - "Manipulation; constant concealment of information; a rather specific concept of "relationship". We've been lovers for a long time-I won't deny it, besides, it doesn't make sense. But I'm telling you the truth: you've become everything to me. As I could, I showed my love and care. Trust me, sweetheart , when you get into the same shit year after year, not knowing if you'll live to see the next day… well, it's a bit tedious. With Ada BEFORE YOU, I had some stability. The stability of our crazy meetings, yes, I had feelings. Until I realized that all this is fucking nonsense and it's not love at all, but an ordinary attachment to a person I've known for many years. And it was never love."

"More than ten years…" - Leon shook his head when you said those words one by one, slowly, as if savoring each. - "If you wanted to stop everything, you would stop it, but she is really a part of you that you will never let go. She occupies a big place in your heart, and I don't want to sit on the bench at all, so that during your next break you come to me. Don't you think it's unfair to me and my feelings?"

You trembled. The nerves began to give up again and the fingertips began to go numb, covered with a sticky cold sweat. Trying to listen to your own feeling, you only heard the frantic beating of your heart and the blood pounding in your ears. In some ways, it resembled a pre-fainting state. Part of you knew that Leon wouldn't do anything wrong, and the other part was terrified of the conversation going on.

You urgently needed to grab something to distract yourself. But most of the things were already in the bag.

On the other hand, it was hard to tell what Leon was thinking. His eyes focused on one point-you. A mixture of misunderstanding, irritation and bitterness in one bottle. He got the feeling that you were trying to convince him to believe your own lies, because during the time that you were together, Leon never gave a reason to think that there was someone third in his life.

But you felt something that you wanted to tell him against your better judgment for a long time. This is what you started falling asleep with when you first started suspecting him of cheating, despite the fact that it was very stupid.

"I thought my love was enough for you and me. I was ready to forgive you for the first mistake, Leon. I thought I could be irreplaceable for you, but now I realize that I'm not her equal."

"God, can you hear yourself?" - Leon ran his hand through his hair pulling it back, sincerely tired of explaining the same thing to you. As if you really were…blunt.

However, he didn't need to tell you, you yourself understood what he was thinking. And yes, it was stupid to come here again. You're really dumb.

"The conversation reached a dead end." - you continued to collect the rest of the things, once again capitulating to him.

"You're leading him to a dead end!" - Leon jumped up from his seat, shouting loudly at the top of his voice. You recoiled to the side, away from his formidable figure, next to which your own seemed very tiny. Your subconscious was still saying "don't be afraid," but your instincts were afraid of any violence. He could scream, he could hit… Leon never did this, it was the lowest act for him to hit another (unless circumstances require it), and disputes were generally resolved by ordinary conversation. You knew he could raise his voice, but Leon chose to leave before he reached boiling point. - "What else do I have to tell you to make you believe me?"

Your heart sank. But stand still. The commanding tone of the inner voice told you to resist, and apparently the small iron makings of your father's character were passed on to you. As a last resort, you quickly glanced towards the door, holding a bag in your hands, figuring out a plan in case of escape, and Leon noticed your strange behavior. Disappointed once again. In myself or maybe already in you? Do you really think he's such a monster?

"Why the fuck are you shaking so much?" - It wasn't funny anymore. Leon snatched the bag and threw it with all his might into a corner, not caring about the fragile contents. - "One big quarrel and I became the son of a bitch who beat you up or what? I'm not an angel, and with all my adoration, you're not a gift either! But did I hurt you at least once?!

"Yes!" - In a fit of emotion, you screamed, closing the distance with one big step. Leon chuckled. He meant physical pain, not mental pain. - "You hurt me. And it's still hard for me to live with this wound. I screwed up too. You know, I'm not the only loser here! And this is not a quarrel! You're a fucking jerk who still can't figure out his feelings. You didn't promise me shit, and it's my mistake that I came up with a big love for you ! But no one who has a conscience and respect for a partner will keep a compact of an ex-girlfriend and correspond with her in a joking manner. For some reason, my father does not allow himself to do this. No truly loving man will ever allow himself to do this! And instead of at least admitting the obvious, you convince me of something else! Tell me, Leon, if I did this to you, would you want to keep talking? Would you be able to trust me? "

"This shit has been lying there for a fucking cloud of time. I've already forgotten about her!"

Now both of you have switched to raised tones. You weren't scared anymore. The anger inside you was growing, erasing absolutely all the feelings that had been blunted before. Now you wanted to be fucking rude to him again, and that's probably what he liked about you. Leon even suspected that you would flare up like a match and be able to hit him.

"Forgot about the messages too?!"

"Fuck..." - It was unbearable to fight with you. Like a stubborn sheep who believed a stupid fool - his damn friend Carey. Leon pulled his phone out of his pocket and opened a message chat with Ada. There was no government information there, so he turned the screen to your face so that you could see what was written months earlier. But you didn't even look. Until Leon grabbed your wrist and put the smartphone in your hand. - "Look, read it since you're so sure that I still love Ada. It already seems to me that you are crazy about her".

Stubbornness was not always the best trait of your character, so you pressed the button on the side of the screen and just put the phone on the bedside table, making it clear that you would not stoop to such baseness to dig into other people's things. You also had a sense of your own worthiness.

"What happened?" - Leon croaked, taking a step forward. - "You wanted proof-I gave it to you."

"I don't want anything anymore Leon"

Only one thought was spinning in your head like a gear, "In vain. You shouldn't have come! Nobody got better from the fact that you disturbed this wound by reopening it." And yet you lied to yourself first of all. Leon's anger is caused by your disbelief, but even in a fit of the most terrible rage, he never did anything to you. Although you definitely felt uncomfortable from the tense atmosphere that had developed, where almost sparks were flying around the room, you still kept well with your arms crossed on your chest.

You needed Leon. You still wanted to love him and hugging a pillow at night you imagined that you were hugging him. But agreeing to be a fallback is also not in your style. There will still be a drop of pride for this.

So you just went to your bag, trying to pick it up to pick up the last belongings and leave, but Leon grabs your wrist. No pain. A firm grip is like a call to stop and give him a few more tries before he lets you go forever.

And you freeze, yielding to your instincts that purr sweetly from the slightest intimacy with this man. I wonder if Leon feels your pulse beating wildly? He lets go of your hand, biting his lower lip, and God, how you want to reach out to him to remember again what it's like to be his lover…

"So you came here just to break my heart again?" - his palms rested on your face, forcing you to look at him. For a second you suffocated drowning in the fragrance of his body and losing your mind looking into those eyes again. It's like they were pulling the soul out of you. - "Which of us is hurting the other more? First you reject me by running away for two months, then you pack up and say you never want to see me, but now you're coming back again… Of the two of us, who is the greater sadist?"

Your cheek pressed against his palm. A wave of heat spread throughout your body in small electrical discharges, as if you had taken a heavy intoxicating drug that turned you into clay in his hands. Leon pressed his forehead against yours, closing his eyes so that you could listen to the steady breathing and you were so waiting for the last kiss. At least a light touch of his lips…

Maybe in fact the main villain of this story was not Leon at all, but you yourself?

"I do not know," - somehow you whispered barely audible. Despite your closeness, you weren't sure Leon heard. -" I'm completely confused"

His bangs fell over your eyes, which made you smile a little.

"Do you want to leave?" - A question that made the body shudder with fright. As if you didn't want him to ask it to you, because an inner voice kept saying "no" and common sense began to doubt the correctness of the decisions made earlier. - "I don't want to let you go, but I can't forcibly hold you either. I really love you no matter what you think of yourself there, and it doesn't matter whether you believe me or not."

"I want to believe you but" - the voice trembled like a string. You lowered your gaze, trying to blink away the hateful tears despite the fact that Leon continued to hold your face.

"What?"

"I'm afraid." - you finally confessed, feeling a huge crack in your heart. Leon pressed you to his chest and you were grateful to him at that second because you no longer had the strength to control your emotions. - "I'm just afraid"

"My love? Or what?"

You didn't know what you were afraid of anymore. Leon pressed his cheek to the top of your head, holding the back of your head. Both of you didn't even notice how it started raining outside, creating an atmosphere of silence and loneliness. All that the soul craved was to stay standing like that for longer or even for an eternity. You feel his other hand on your waist, but you don't have the resolve to hug him back.

"It's not even about Ada, right?" - you didn't say anything. - "Do you really distrust me so much that you are ready to believe anyone but me?"

"You smelled of her perfume; you kept her things and never trusted me. I've always been away from you."

"Believe me angel, the shit that I constantly see haunts me almost every night and this is not what I want for you at all. Even if you begged me, I would never tell you about it. And about the rest…I have no idea what you smelled there."

Leon's words sounded like a final chord. No more excuses. Your body reflexively pressed against him, feeling the lost warmth of your native closeness, which caused the corners of Leon's lips to slightly rise up.

And in the end, you succumbed to the temptation of clasping his back with your trembling hands, covering your eyes from the fatigue of what is happening.

His lips touched your hair, and the noisy intake of breath that followed made him plunge into memories. It seemed like everything was covered in a misty haze, and your scent could make him lose his mind, even if it was for brief moments. The anxiety of a quick farewell enveloped the body, but there was something else… something that excites the mind regardless of temperature. A strange and at the same time precious emotion that has returned comfort to you two, affectionate behavior to each other, warmth of soul. This is something from the depths of the heart.

If Ada was a candle all this time, whose light illuminated a narrow space, then you were like the sun, whose warmth and beauty he missed so much. Leon realized that he was looking at a dazzling man with a huge sun inside, which dispelled all the darkness that had hung over him since the days of Raccoon City.

He knew he had no right to do that, and you could have pushed him away, but Leon wanted to feel your light one last time. Tearing you away from his shoulder so that the next moment he could press his lips to yours, memorizing your sweet taste. Like a rare nectar that can only be tasted once. A crushing kiss filled with belated remorse.

"Let this be my parting gift"

You're not annoyed or even angry. Whatever happens, you will always love him more than you should. So much time spent in vain to burn bittersweet feelings out of a stupid heart and stop following stupid emotions. Everything was absolutely in vain.

You pursed your lips when Leon started pulling away from you. As an avalanche hit a lonely wanderer, so you were dying at this second. leon believed that his love was hurting you and he is ready to step back so that you can heal, but the fact is that now you are at a crossroads again, not knowing the right way.

So maybe we should turn back?

You don't have an umbrella, just a thin jacket, and it's still raining mercilessly outside, as if someone is mourning the heavens. Drops trickle down the glass, and you wipe away your own tears, trying to listen to the footsteps behind you, but they are not there. A gigantic heaviness rolled over.

"It's stupid," you sobbed when you heard his voice, the one that cut you from the inside like a knife blade, forcing you to clench your teeth. - "I will never look for a meeting with you again, but still…stay with me."

"I..I can not…don't know" - Leon hugged you from behind again. Your voice was lost in hoarse sobs and if it weren't for his strong hands, your knees would hit the floor. It was as if the scenario of that day was repeating itself. - "I don't want to leave. I love you so much..."

You covered your mouth with your hand, unable to hold back your sobs any longer. It's just that emotions poured out in a flurry, turning you into a crying mess. However, the grip on your thin shoulders tightened when Leon turned you around to face him, holding you in a vice.

And your hand felt so good on his neck… Leon smiled as if he didn't want to know anything else in the world, starting to cover your tearful face with smudged kisses lingering on your lips and when you started answering all the barriers finally collapsed.

"So you'll stay." - no question. - "No more tears. No jealousy. You're here with me."

"Lee..on…" - with difficulty pronouncing his name, he burst into your mouth with a new kiss that stopped your breath. His tongue easily slid into your mouth intertwining with yours and you knew where to put yourself, allowing his hands to wander over your body.

"Either you leave now and never come back, or we send everything to hell and forget all the shit that happened to us. Choose now."

You were hanging around his neck, and to be honest, this really was your last chance to escape. It was only necessary to make a movement to the side, to pull away from him, but you stood still. One minute. Two… maybe the last two minutes of your sane thoughts.

You stayed, continuing to look into those sky-blue eyes, pressing your forehead against his, without interrupting eye contact. The person standing in front of you was irreplaceable, and now you would rather part with your life than agree to part with him.

Leon stroked your cheek with a funny peck on the lips, causing a sincere smile.

"Never dare to doubt me. Don't ever leave again. You and I will go somewhere far, far away from here. Let's drop everything and go to some house on the shore of the lake, where we will enjoy the tranquility and each other." - another kiss on the swollen nose. You just nodded, clinging to his T-shirt.

You've always been more of a vanilla girl, but Leon decided that rudeness would be superfluous. Not now and not tonight. He pulled off your clothes along with your underwear, throwing you on the soft bed that you already shared with him once and all you could think about was how he proved his love for you, holding you motionless in his arms, licking wet tracks from his cheeks. You didn't have the strength to fight him trying to take the initiative, the only thing you were thinking about was deep slow thrusts knocking moans out of your mouth. Leon was hugging you to him with great greed and a bit of fear, as if you could run away from him now. That's why he whispered soothing words and praise in your ear all the while tucking your hair back.

"I love you. You have no right to think otherwise. You're just my pretty girl, look at me, beautiful" - Leon threw you on the pillow, forcing you to open your eyes. Panting, you obeyed, wrapping your legs around his torso, pressing even closer to him, while Leon found your hand, twining your fingers together. - "I need you. You're my favorite girl, I love you so much. More than anything in the world, I value you, don't you dare leave me anymore, angel."

His smooth movements were maddening. Leaning over to you, he caught your lips pulling into a gentle kiss, but you immediately interrupted him leaning against his cheek like a petting cat, losing his head and blushing from vulgar pops and squelching sounds due to the abundance of lubricant.

"Don't leave me," - you freed your hands trying to straddle him, but Leon crossed your sad attempt pressing only harder to the mattress. - "I'm not leaving anymore, I swear. I'm so sorry… I've never wanted anyone more than you. Only you…my love…"

He was so gentle with you. There could be bruises from your closeness in some places, but you felt as good as ever in all the past months of separation. A loud moan escaped his lips when he plunged into you too deeply. His seed soiled your belly when he cum snuggling up to you.

You don't remember exactly when your sanity returned to you, but you definitely felt it when Leon, after the second round and long hugs with compliments, took you to the shower where he carefully washed off the traces of your intimacy with him, gently kissing and sucking every bruise left from his fingers, promising that he would take care of it in the morning.

You ran your fingers over his wet bangs, brushing it away from his eyes, which Leon used when he picked you up under the hips after taking a hot shower to take you back to his bed and let you rest.

Actually, the bed linen should have been changed too, but you two didn't care at all. Leon pulled you closer to him, laying you on his chest, hugging you with both hands, stopping any attempts to escape, but you were no longer planning to run anywhere. He fell asleep pretty quickly, and you lay motionless next to him for another hour, tormented by a feeling of hunger and thinking how you could get to the refrigerator without disturbing a light sleep. His shirt was left lying on the floor and with an awkward movement, as if deceiving a sleeping man with the desire to turn over, you carefully free yourself from the ring of embraces by getting out of bed. You take a cursory glance at Leon, making sure that he is still asleep and throw it on hastily without even buttoning his shirt, leaving the bedroom with light steps with the obvious intention of robbing his refrigerator.

Slowly and on tiptoe… wanting to have a snack at least with a sandwich, you realize when you open the door that a mouse has hanged itself in the refrigerator. Nothing particularly edible, and what Leon ate all this time, also remains a mystery.

Although it seems the cheese seemed quite usable. It's not too satisfying after a particularly sinful night, but you can last until morning. You already want to close the door when suddenly you realize with a sixth sense that someone is standing behind you, forcing you to freeze in place with a slice of cheese in your teeth.

But Leon just stroked your thighs laughing at the silent scene.

"I'm hungry" - That's the whole excuse. - "I'm sorry, but I won't fall asleep if I don't eat something…"

"I told you not to leave me anywhere." - It sounded harsh, but with obvious notes of playfulness, especially since Leon was clearly staring at your breasts. - "You could have asked me instead of running away again. God, stop eating that cheese. I don't want you to get poisoned!"

"Then feed me something or I'll starve to death. I definitely won't be able to return from the other world."

Leon took the fucking cheese out of your hands after enjoying this sweet conversation between two lovers and one hungry heart and threw you over his shoulder carrying you back to the bedroom, putting you back in his bed.

"And now you're lying or sitting in bed like the obedient girl you are while I bring us something to eat. If you are not in this place, blame yourself. You've already rubbed my nerves and yours enough, angel." - You nodded, still feeling the residual stress from the hysteria you experienced, but you were still smiling sweetly, hanging one leg over the edge of the bed, teasing Leon a little, who was getting dressed all this time. He noticed your stupid game and took a leather jacket from the closet on the way out of the bedroom tickled your heel, forcing you to hide it back under the blanket.

"You're staying here. So that when I come back, and it will be very soon, I will find you in this very place." - Notes of sadness and fatigue were still hovering in his eyes, so you didn't argue, but just agreed.

"I'll be here. It's raining outside anyway and I don't have an umbrella with me."

Leon flicked you on the nose, clearly not appreciating the joke. He didn't even ask what you wanted, even though he already knew about your taste preferences. Therefore, as soon as the door slammed shut, you quickly reached for your mobile phone, answering missed calls from your parents, explaining to them that you just dozed off and didn't hear the mobile. In general, you have found something to do by digging into your phone, checking messages and flipping through the news feed in the social network, thinking only about Leon and the food that he should bring soon.

It all still seemed unreal. You looked at the corner where your abandoned bag was left lying around, as if confirming reality. It's unlikely to be possible to pretend that nothing happened and Leon really looked too tired, but right now you didn't want to think about anything else except his return. Perhaps you have already suffered enough and you really should go on vacation together somewhere away from the hustle and bustle of the world? Leon will probably want to talk about this topic again with a fresher head when he calms down a little.

In the end, finding you sleeping in his bed was a really beautiful reality that he was afraid he had already lost. In his shirt, with pretty bare thighs, sleeping lightly on his pillow. Leon put the bag of food on the table, taking off his jacket just to hug you, proving to himself once again that this is really not a dream.

You really stayed with him and he won't let you leave anymore.

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