#that they WOULD be here but are only like. pseudo-canonical almost

[isaacathom]

my friend pondered a highschool au for their ttrpg ocs, and then i went 'hmm. interesting. what if my ocs?' and then, well,

[illusioncanthurtme--art]

These are a couple doodles from yesterday, Gideon as a younger teen, before the growth spurt, maybe 14? He's discovered he's a vampire, and has a lot of recovery to do, since he's severely blood deficient.

I'm gonna let myself explode about my vampire gideon ideas, under construction, under the cut: (I don't write fanfiction, I just throw up my ideas on a tumblr post, apparently :'D)

This is what I love about tumblr - it's a place where I can throw the doodles (something that isn't finished *artwork*), and let myself be really delusional about fictional characters. So I'm gonna take a moment to ramble about the ideas I have for Gideon as a vampire.

If you're a fellow Gideon Head, HI THERE... anyway, here's my thought process on a potential vampire-gideon backstory???

I've always liked the idea of gideon being a vampire, and also becoming a much better person when he's older. And that got me thinking, maybe those two things are linked. Maybe the vampire thing is somehow tied into his reformation.

But I tend to lean towards building my ideas off canon (as opposed to making an AU). And if gideon was a vampire, and knew this during the events of the show, it would have come to light at some point. So, either he doesn't know he's a vampire, or he becomes one later. Becoming one later works narratively, but he's already so vampiric, with the white hair, pale skin, sunscreen, evil, etc. So I'm like, let's go with that.

So, gideon has gone his whole life without knowing he's a vampire, and without drinking blood. I'm thinking that being a vampire in this case (my gravity falls fan version of what a vampire would be) wouldn't adhere to typical vampire conventions. You don't NEED to drink blood to survive.

Here's the idea I got yesterday: after the events of weirdmageddon, gideons experience motivated him to become a better person. It was the awakening, basically. But in the subsequent years, he's still a little shit. Maybe he's in juvenile detention, or prison again. But now, he has the self awareness to know that what he's doing is wrong. This is where my ideas get a little fuzzy, so bear with me. Bud has his suspicions, and as a last resort, puts gideon on some sort of mission trip type of cross country trip, when he's in his teens. And along the way, maybe at the end, there's this secret group of vampires that open gideons eyes to what he really is.

Basically??? Without blood, gideon is very evil. He's an evil little shit. This may not be how it is for every vampire. Maybe some grow very sickly without blood, just get hungry, etc. The effects of blood deficiency vary from vampire to vampire. But Gideon becomes very unhinged. And he'd essentially been Blood Hangry for his whole life. That being said, some of it was just his personality that he needed to work through, but drinking some blood helped a LOT. Blood isn't food for him, it's more like his medication.

Once he has that discovery, he spends a long while, I'm thinking maybe even a year, just recovering from the deficiency. He's almost always drinking blood to keep up his levels, and he's very rarely seen in public to keep the vampire thing a secret. That's what these drawings were supposed to be, him in his pseudo bedridden state. This period in his life would be one big blur; mostly spent binge watching soap operas and being all cozy. In contrast to his usual suit + tie, he's dressing for max comfort: sweatpants, sweatshirt, a knit hat over his ridiculously big hair, and always wrapped in a blanket. Not sure if somehow he feels cold when drinking blood?? But for some reason, I feel like he'd always be wearing like 10 layers and laying under a heated blanket or something.

Eventually, he'd only need to drink blood about once a month for maintenance.

Character development wise - even as an adult, Gideon isn't sure if he's truly a good person. Is the blood deficient version of himself the true gideon? Or is this well adjusted man who he truly is? And there's an issue of the chicken and the egg, too. Gideon was born a vampire. Did these genes activate because he was predisposed to being evil? Or did the vampire thing happen by coincidence? Does being a vampire make him evil, or is it the other way around? He doesn't know, and he never will.

The one thing I'm not sure I like about this idea: i'm worried that I'd be writing off his villainous personality as an illness that can be cured with a thing. Obviously, it would be better if he faced that head on, and figured out how to be better. So I'm still grappling with that. But for now, this is an idea I'm entertaining. Of course, I think it would be interesting if there was a plot point where his usual source of ethically sourced human blood was compromised for a time, and he had to grapple with his personality going topsy turvy.

It's actually embarrassing how much I just wrote???? If you've made it this far, wow, I applaud you. I guess this was just my idea of having a good sunday night, writing down my silly thoughts on gideon gosh darn gleeful. Let me know your thoughts too!!!! I'd love to know if you have any ideas, or questions, or ways to strengthen this potential backstory.

[mononijikayu]

as the world caves in — ryomen sukuna.

In an instant, the peace you had cherished was shattered, replaced by the harsh reality of war. With a sense of dread knotting in your stomach, you looked at Sukuna who nodded back at you resolutely. Your uncle led the way, his voice ringing through the compound. There was no way back. There was only kill, or be killed.

GENRE: Heian Era to Shibuya Arc, 2018;

WARNING/s: Alternate Universe ─ Canon Divergence, Romance, Emotional Hurt, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, Heavy Angst, Heavy Pining, Domesticity, Friends to Lovers, Character Death, Grief, Mention of Depression, Mention of Mourning, Depiction of Physical Touch, Depiction of Mental Anguish, Depiction of Violence, Depiction of Harm, Depiction of Blood and Wounds, Depiction of Death, Depiction of Harm, Pseudo-Incest, Adoptive Cousins, Portrayal of Misogynist And Degrading Acts and Language, Smut, Detailed Depiction of Sex, Depiction of Sexual Foreplay, Sexual Penetration, Consensual Sex;

masterlist

ashes of love

song: as the world caves in by sarah cothran

note: beyond what i usually write, but i ended up doing it because i dont think it would be easy to fit in the next chapter. the next chapter is already decided. so i dont think i have the heart to add another chapter. the series is already long as it is. but still, i hope you enjoy it. i hope you enjoy the ride. buckle up, the chapters change from this on to absolutely brutally painful. anyway, i love you!!!

YOU HATED BEING HERE. In the tranquil expanse of neutral territory, where the boundaries blurred between the domains of the Ryomen and Fujiwara clans, an uneasy gathering took place. Here, beneath the boughs of ancient trees and amidst the whispers of nature, the destinies of two families intertwined. Families bound by bad, spoilt blood —blood that unites in misery, meet to unite again. 

Your bright colored kimono felt tighter as the air disappeared from your lungs. The weight of the fabric, usually a symbol of your clan's pride and dignity, now seemed like a constricting shroud, amplifying the suffocating tension that surrounded you. Each breath became a conscious effort, a reminder of the expectations and pressures bearing down on you from all sides.

You stood beside your father, Ryomen Isamu, his presence as imposing as the ancient trees around you. The towering oaks and cedars, with their gnarled trunks and sprawling branches, seemed to echo his steadfastness and strength.

Isamu's broad shoulders and firm stance radiated a quiet power, a testament to his unwavering commitment to honor and duty. His face, lined with the wisdom of age and experience, remained calm, though you could sense the undercurrent of resolve that lay beneath his composed exterior.

In stark contrast stood Fujiwara Ankoku, your grandfather. His cold eyes, sharp as a hawk's, pierced through the air with a severity that made the spring day feel like the dead of winter. His proud demeanor, honed by years of wielding power and influence, seemed to draw the very warmth from the surroundings, creating a palpable chill.

The lines on his face were etched deeply, not just by time but by the burdens of maintaining his family's supremacy. His robes, richly embroidered with symbols of the Fujiwara clan's authority, only amplified his intimidating presence.

The neutral ground, chosen meticulously to symbolize a chance at reconciliation, felt anything but peaceful. The tension between Isamu and Ankoku crackled like a storm ready to unleash its fury.

The air, thick with unspoken words and historical grievances, seemed almost tangible. Every rustle of leaves and every distant bird call felt amplified in the heavy silence that followed each exchange.

Your father spoke with measured calm, his voice steady and deliberate. "We seek an alliance built on mutual respect and honor, Ankoku-dono. This marriage is a chance to mend our….past wounds. We are kin, after all. We must move forward united."

Ankoku’s response was an apprehensive snicker. "Respect and honor, you say? Words often spoken too easily, Isamu-dono. It is a matter of them being upheld. What guarantees can you provide that your lineage is worthy of our name?"

Each word from your grandfather felt like a blade, slicing through the fragile hope for peace. His dismissive tone stoked the simmering anger within you. Your clansmen felt the same, you knew that too well. There was pride in all of you—the Ryomen were older, bolder, more ancient than the Fujiwara. 

Even so, to say that you were unworthy of your cousin Koku was entirely foolish. The clan had wondered in hushed whispers if Koku was even worthy of you. The Fujiwara had only been in such power for such a short time, one could consider it a blink.

You felt the burning pride for your clan call to you.You and your brother were born to such a glorious name. You were both worthy. You have no need to prove it. Your blood was noble. It will always be. 

"The same one which you had wrought upon me by marrying me to your daughter," your father retorted, his voice firm but edged with a restrained anger. 

Hiramu’s lips trembled with laughter, but he bit his lip.Your mother’s glare bore against your father’s head and then your uncle’s. The tension in his words was palpable, a clear challenge to Ankoku's authority. 

“Do you question me so, Ankoku–dono, that you forget thus?”

Ankoku's eyes narrowed, the lines on his face deepening as his expression turned icy. "My daughter brought honor and strength to your clan, Isamu-dono. It is you who must prove that your bloodline is worthy of continuing this legacy."

Isamu's jaw tightened, his composure fraying at the edges. "We have upheld our end of the alliance with dignity and strength. You see my daughter, as you have seen my son. They had grown to be the pride of our clan.  It is not our lineage that is in question here, but the sincerity of your intentions, Ankoku-dono."

A cold smile curled at the corners of Ankoku's lips. "Intentions, Isamu-dono? My intentions are transparent. I seek to ensure the superiority of the Fujiwara name. That is my duty. If that means questioning the worth of those who wish to align with us, so be it."

You could feel the air grow heavier with each passing moment, the space between your father and grandfather crackling with unresolved tension. Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat echoing the intensity of the confrontation.

"An alliance built on mutual respect cannot thrive under a cloud of suspicion and disdain, Ankoku–dono." your father pressed on, his voice steady but with a hint of frustration. Sukuna catches your uncle’s eye for a moment. 

"Things as of late, it must be known as regretful. But we must move beyond these grievances if we are to secure a future of peace and prosperity for both our families. Have we not proven this with my own marriage?”

Ankoku's eyes flashed with a dangerous glint. "Peace and prosperity are earned, Isamu-dono, not freely given. Prove to me that my granddaughter can uphold the honor of the Fujiwara name, and perhaps then we can speak on the completion of this alliance.”

A sharp intake of breath from Sukuna caught your attention. His eyes, usually filled with warmth when meeting yours, were now cold and hard as he glared at Ankoku and then towards your cousin Koku.

The anger simmering within him mirrored your own, a shared defiance against the oppressive authority of your grandfather. Sukuna’s usually calm demeanor was replaced by a visible tension, his jaw clenched and his fists tightened at his sides.

Koku, seated beside you, seemed entirely unfazed by the turmoil around him. He sat with an air of smug confidence, his back straight and his chin lifted slightly, exuding an aura of superiority that only served to stoke the fires of resentment burning within you and Sukuna. The pride in Koku's eyes was unwavering, a clear indication that he felt secure in his position and indifferent to the suffering or discord that his family's actions caused.

As Sukuna's gaze bore into him, Koku met it with a condescending smirk, a look that spoke volumes about his sense of untouchable entitlement. He was the first born son, the symbol of Fujiwara pride, and he seemed to revel in the conflict, basking in the glow of his perceived invulnerability. And he was seeping in — destroying the peace, by forcing Fujiwara peace through a putrid marriage that should never be.

The tension was palpable, an invisible thread stretching taut between Sukuna and Koku, threatening to snap at any moment. The space between them crackled with unspoken animosities, the air thick with the weight of ancestral grudges and personal vendettas. You felt caught in the middle, the pressure of the moment making your kimono feel even tighter, your breath coming in shallow, rapid bursts.

"My daughter has proven his worth time and again, Ankoku–dono." Isamu countered, his voice rising. "It is not my daughter’s honor that is in question here, but your unwillingness to see beyond your prejudices.”

Ankoku's cold smile vanished, replaced by a stern, unyielding expression. "Choose your words carefully, Isamu-dono. This marriage is not just a union of individuals but a merging of legacies, of clans. Any misstep could bring dishonor upon us all."

Your father took a deep breath, steadying himself before responding. "We will honor this union, Ankoku-dono, but it must be based on mutual respect. If we continue down this path of mistrust and animosity, we doom ourselves to repeat the mistakes of the past."

The silence that followed was heavy, each second stretching into an eternity. Your heartbeat thundered in your ears as you watched the two patriarchs lock eyes, their wills clashing like titans in a battle for the future.

Ankoku finally broke the silence, his voice cold and measured. "Very well, Isamu-dono. We will proceed with this marriage. We will keep the peace. But know this: I will be watching closely. Any sign of dishonor or weakness, and the consequences will be severe."

As Ankoku turned away, the tension in the air began to dissipate, leaving behind a sense of uneasy resolution. Your father exhaled slowly, the strain of the confrontation evident in his eyes. You exchanged a long, meaningful glance with Sukuna, your silent vows of defiance and determination reaffirmed.

Ankoku, sensing the tension still lingering, paused and turned back towards Isamu, his cold eyes narrowing. "Do not mistake this agreement for weakness, Isamu-dono. The Fujiwara name demands nothing less than absolute loyalty and unwavering strength."

Isamu met Ankoku's gaze, his voice steady but edged with a simmering intensity. "And do not mistake our willingness to unite as submission, Ankoku-dono. We are equals in this alliance, and respect must be mutual if we are to succeed."

Ankoku's lip curled in a slight sneer. "Respect is earned, Isamu-dono. Your family has much to prove."

Isamu's jaw tightened, but he remained composed. "And we will, through actions and honor, not through empty words and hollow threats."

A tense silence followed, each word hanging heavily in the air. Ankoku's gaze flicked to you and Sukuna, his eyes narrowing with suspicion and challenge. "See that you do. The future of both our clans depends on it."

Isamu nodded, his expression unyielding. "Indeed it does. Let us hope that our children can bridge the gaps that we could not."

Ankoku turned to leave once more, but this time Isamu’s own voice stopped him. "Ankoku-dono, understand this: the Ryomen clan will not tolerate disrespect. We come to this union with duty in our hearts, but we will not be subjugated."

Ankoku's eyes flashed with a mixture of anger and grudging respect. "Very well, Isamu-dono. Let us see if your actions can match your words."

As Ankoku finally walked away, the atmosphere remained charged with the remnants of their confrontation. Your cousin Koku stood from his position, his movements deliberate and measured. His smug expression never wavered, and he approached you with a condescending air that made your skin crawl.

"Well, little cousin." Koku began, his voice dripping with feigned politeness, "It seems we are to be bound by fate and duty. I hope you are prepared to uphold your part. To honor our family, despite your… humble origins."

You bristled at his words, but you held your ground, meeting his gaze with defiance. "I am ready to do what is necessary for our families' future, Koku–dono. I trust you will do the same."

“Oh so formal with me. Are we not family?” Koku's smirk widened, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of amusement and disdain. "Of course, I will. After all, it is my duty to guide and protect you, to ensure that you do not falter in your responsibilities."

His patronizing tone grated on your nerves, but you refused to let him see your frustration. "I must do well by my family. I shan’t be degrading. I am sure this must reflect that I am perfectly capable of handling my responsibilities, Koku–dono. You need not concern yourself with such acts.”

Koku chuckled, a low, mocking sound that only served to heighten your irritation. "Ah, such spirit. It will be interesting to see how long it lasts. Remember, little Hiromi, this union is as much a test for you as it is for me. Do try not to disappoint."

Before you could respond, Sukuna stepped forward, his presence a solid wall of support beside you. His voice was cold and measured as he addressed Koku. "Hiromi-sama does not need your condescension, Koku-dono. Hiromi-sama is your equal, an heir of her lord. You must respect my lady."

Koku's eyes widened slightly, the surprise quickly masked by a sneer. "Respect, Sukuna? Respect is earned. Your Hiromi-sama may have the title, but she has yet to prove she deserves the honor that comes with it."

Sukuna's expression remained steely. "Hiromi-sama's worth is not for you to judge. My lady has shown strength and grace under immense pressure. That, in itself, commands respect."

Koku stepped closer, his gaze flicking between you and Sukuna, his voice dropping to a low, mocking tone. "It seems you have quite the protector, little cousin. But remember, loyalty can be a fleeting thing, especially when tested by the harsh realities of our world. One of course, your pet will never understand.”

You could feel Sukuna's anger simmering beside you, his body tense with barely restrained fury. You placed a hand on his arm, a silent plea for calm, and stepped forward to face Koku directly. You shook your head at him and mouthed an order, telling him to move away. Sukuna glared at you, as though he wishes to resist. Your eyes glared back, hardening at his indulgence. His face contorts and bows swiftly, before he walks off.

"My loyalty to my family and to this alliance is unwavering." you said, your voice steady and clear. "And I expect the same from you, Koku-dono. Do not let your arrogance blind you to the importance of unity. That is your hubris.”

Koku's sneer faltered for a moment, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his features before he masked it with a condescending smile. "Very well, little cousin. Let us play this game. Let us hope that your confidence is not misplaced."

He turned away, the tension in his posture revealing more than his words ever could. As he walked off, you exhaled slowly, the weight of the confrontation settling heavily on your shoulders.

At that moment, Your father Isamu had slowly come to approach you. You bowed before him, but he raised his hand, releasing you from that obligation to formality. He looks to you, before turning to order the servants away, to give you some privacy. In that moment of lonesomeness, the lord’s face withers to reveal a father’s.

Ryomen Isamu expressed a mix of pride and worry as he approached you. His gaze held a depth of concern that spoke volumes, revealing the inner turmoil he grappled with. "Daughter."

"Father." You smiled at him, but you knew, as he did, that it was never full. There was a weight to his words, a heaviness that lingered in the air between you. "I am glad to serve you and your will, father."

Isamu's expression softened, but the worry remained etched in the lines of his face. "Hiromi, you do not have to do this. I do not want you to sacrifice anything for the sake of peace."

You opened your mouth to argue, to reassure him of your commitment to the alliance, but before you could speak, Isamu's next words stopped you in your tracks.

"I know about you and Sukuna," he reveals quietly, his voice tinged with a hint of sadness. "And if being with him is what makes you happy, then I will allow it. I would do anything for you to be happy, my dear. So that you may not suffer as much as me.”

Shock washed over you, mingled with a pang of guilt. You had thought your feelings for Sukuna were a secret, carefully concealed from prying eyes, but now you realized that your father had known all along. The realization was both comforting and heartbreaking, knowing that he had seen the turmoil within you and had chosen to support you nonetheless.

Tears welled in your eyes as you shook your head, your heart breaking at the thought of disappointing him. "Father, I... I cannot…" you whispered, the words catching in your throat. "As much as it pains me, I must do my duty to you, to our family, our clan. For the sake of peace. You know this.”

“Daughter—”

You feel tears prickle your eyes. “Father, please.”

Isamu's eyes glistened with unshed tears, his voice filled with a mixture of pride and sorrow. "I understand, my dear. Your sense of duty has always been your strength, and I am proud of the woman you have become."

His words wash over you like a balm, soothing the ache in your heart even as they deepen the resolve within you. You hold onto his embrace, seeking solace in the warmth of his love and understanding. It's a rare moment of vulnerability between you, a reminder of the unbreakable bond that ties you together as father and daughter.

The weight of his acceptance and support is both a comfort and a burden, knowing that he sees the sacrifices you make for the sake of peace, for the sake of your family's legacy. But in this moment, you also feel a flicker of hope, a glimmer of light in the darkness that surrounds you.

"Thank you, father," you whisper, your voice trembling with emotion. "For everything."

Isamu pulls back slightly, his hands cupping your face as he meets your gaze with unwavering love. "You are my daughter, Hiromi. And nothing will ever change that. No matter what challenges lie ahead, remember that I will always be here for you."

You nod, a lump forming in your throat as you try to hold back tears. "I know, father. And I will always strive to make you proud."

He enveloped you in a warm embrace, holding you close as if trying to shield you from the weight of the world. In that moment, you felt the depth of his love and sacrifice, and you vowed to do everything in your power to honor his trust and uphold the legacy of your family.

As you pulled away from the embrace, wiping away your tears, you met Isamu's gaze with a renewed sense of determination. "I will make you proud, father. I promise."

Isamu smiled, a bittersweet expression tinged with pride and love. "I know you will, my dear. And remember, no matter what challenges lie ahead, I will always be here for you."

With those words lingering in the air like a comforting embrace, you felt a sense of peace settle over you. Whatever trials awaited you on the path ahead, you knew that with your father's unwavering support and your own sense of duty guiding you, you would face them with courage and resilience.

TIME PASSED TOO QUICKLY FOR YOU TO KEEP UP. The past few weeks had been a blur of unspoken words and lingering heartache. But you could not say it out loud. You couldn’t cry out or sob about it. Not anymore. Your personal life could not get in the way, you knew that. But you couldn’t help it.

Not in the lonely nights when you long to brush your fingers against fuschia hair. Not when you long for the warmth that brings you the sun on cold nights. Not when you long for the rare smiles that truly only belong to you. 

These past weeks, Sukuna and you had not exchanged a single word. When you saw him, you tried to look away. When he looks at you, he lowers his gaze. Between the two of you, the silence between you grows heavier with each passing day. 

He has maintained that he is loyal to you, that he is your right hand man. That he only belongs to you. Yet, he cannot call you with all the loving names he has made for you. He cannot hold you, he cannot love you as you wanted him to. And it breaks your heart over and over.

You had tried to focus on your duties, to bury your sorrow in the preparations for your upcoming wedding to Koku, a union that you loathed. You tried to sleep it off, to bury out the sound of whispers.  But nothing had settled you. Not duty, not stifling your sorrow, not resting. The weight of duty pressed down on you, stifling your spirit and filling you with a sense of despair.

Uncle Hiramu had tried to speak to you, so did father. It was easily noticeable that you were unhappy about your day to day. They worried, you knew that much. But in each conversation that comes between you, you consistently said that you were fine.

You parrotted words that expressed the same thing — you must do your duty. A Ryomen must do their duty.  But you knew, they did not buy it one bit. Yet they kept their tongue tied and mouth closed.

In a desperate bid to escape the suffocating atmosphere, you saddled your horse and rode out into the countryside, the wind whipping through your loose dark hair as you sought solace in the open expanse. The rhythmic pounding of your horse's hooves against the ground provided a temporary reprieve from your thoughts, but no matter how far you rode,  no matter how fast, no matter how the pressure of your horse’s weight dove against you, you couldn't outrun the pain. 

Eventually, you slowed your pace, coming to a halt near a secluded grove of trees. Your kimono had all but become wrinkled, your hair tattered. You thank your horse in a small mumble, your breath echoing exhaustion. You dismounted and led your horse to a nearby stream, letting it drink as you sat on a large rock, your heart heavy with the burden of your unspoken sorrow.

Hours passed, the world around you a blur. Soon enough, your mind began to drift. Laying your head against the tree, closing your eyes from the image of the secluded grove. The stillness of the place wrapped around you, offering a brief respite from your pain.  The voices around you faded into the background, replaced by a distant hum as you retreated into the sanctuary of your memories.

You saw Sukuna’s face, his eyes filled with warmth and mischief as he teased you about a particularly clumsy moment during one of your training sessions. You remembered the way he laughed, a sound that felt like sunshine breaking through the clouds, lighting up even your darkest days. There were stolen moments in the garden, where he’d lean in close, his voice a soft murmur in your ear as he shared his dreams and hopes with you.

A particular memory surfaced, one of the two of you riding through the countryside, the wind in your hair and the world spreading out before you like an endless tapestry of possibilities. You recalled how he’d reached out to steady you as your horse stumbled, the warmth of his hand a comforting anchor. In those moments, with Sukuna by your side, the future seemed bright and full of promise.

But now, those days felt like a distant dream, a cruel illusion that had slipped through your fingers. The reality of your impending marriage to Koku, a man you neither loved nor respected, loomed over you like a storm cloud, darkening every corner of your heart.

The memory of Sukuna’s smile, his touch, his laughter, was too much to bear. Desperate to escape the suffocating weight of your duties and the impending wedding, you decided to steal a few moments of freedom. You sighed, not knowing or caring what the hour was. What propriety was as you lay against the grass. You could only want, you could only dream. You could only yearn. You wanted to pretend that your world isn’t falling apart. 

Moments later, the sound of approaching hooves reached your ears. You blinked, slowly returning into reality. With a heavy sigh, you sat up. You turned to see Mikoto Masaomi, your loyal guard, riding toward you. His expression was one of concern as he dismounted and approached you.

You felt like he had aged in just a small time, just looking for you. But then again, you had disappeared for so long. He got off his horse, and settled the animal beside your own. He walked towards you and bowed.

"Hiromi–sama." Masaomi said softly, his voice filled with worry. "We've been looking for you. Are you all right?"

“I’m alright.” You retorted, tight lipped. “I was just….”

Masaomi sighed, his shoulders rising and falling with the weight of his concern. “Hiromi-sama, you do not have to lie. It is alright… to be honest with me. It is just me. Your loyal friend.”

You looked at Masaomi for a moment, searching his eyes for any sign of judgment or doubt, but found only sincerity and a deep, abiding loyalty. His presence, a constant in your life, offered a rare moment of solace amid the turmoil. For a moment, your brother’s face tethered in your mind as you looked at Masaomi. 

“Masaomi, I just....” you began, your voice trembling with the effort to hold back tears. “I… I feel so lost. Everything is falling apart. Sukuna is gone, and I am being forced into a future I never wanted. It feels like I am being crushed under the weight of everyone's expectations, and I don’t know how much longer I can bear it.”

Masaomi nodded, his expression understanding and patient. “I know, Hiromi-sama. I see the strain this is putting on you, and it pains me to see you suffer. You have always been so strong, but even the strongest hearts can break under such pressure.”

His words struck a chord deep within you, and the tears you had been holding back spilled over. You turned away, trying to hide your vulnerability, but Masaomi gently took your hand, his touch grounding you in the present.

“It is alright to feel this way,” he continued softly. “You are not weak for wanting something different, for longing for happiness. You are human, and your feelings are valid.”

You took a deep, shuddering breath, feeling the dam within you finally begin to break. “I miss him so much, Masaomi. Sukuna… he was my anchor, my hope…..my heart. And now, without him, I feel adrift, lost in a sea of expectations and duties that I never wanted.”

Masaomi’s grip on your hand tightened slightly, a reassuring pressure that reminded you of his unwavering support. “Hiromi-sama, your happiness is important. You deserve to find joy and peace, not to be shackled by obligations that only bring you pain.”

A fresh wave of tears blurred your vision, and you looked down, the words spilling from your lips in a torrent of despair. “But how can I? I am bound by duty to my family, to this alliance. My brother’s duty is mine. I cannot abandon them. If I refuse, it could mean disaster for everyone I love. How can I be so selfish as to choose my own happiness over the well-being of my clan?”

Masaomi’s voice was gentle but firm as he responded. “Choosing your own happiness is not selfish, Hiromi-sama. It is necessary. A leader who is broken and unhappy cannot effectively lead or bring peace. Your well-being is the prosperity of your clan, of all your vassals. Of me.”

You looked up at him, your eyes filled with a mix of hope and uncertainty. “But what can I do, Masaomi? How can I find a path that honors both my duty and my heart?”

Masaomi’s gaze was steady, his expression filled with determination. “We will find a way, Hiromi-sama. Whatever it takes, we will forge a path that allows you to fulfill your duties without sacrificing your soul. And if that means defying tradition or challenging those who stand in our way, then so be it. As I was with your brother, Akimu–dono, I am with you. Always.”

His words lit a spark of resolve within you, a flicker of hope that had been nearly extinguished. You squeezed his hand, drawing strength from his unwavering support. “Thank you, Masaomi. You have never abandoned me. I am grateful to you. Truly.”

Masaomi smiled, a rare expression that softened his usually stern features. “You will never have to find out, Hiromi-sama. The Mikoto will always stand with you. If we must go against the Fujiwara, then we will. Until death, Hiromi-sama. We will join you.”

The sincerity in his voice, the unwavering loyalty, filled you with a newfound determination. But there was still the lingering pain of separation from Sukuna, the unresolved feelings that gnawed at your heart. Masaomi seemed to sense this, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully as he studied your face.

“You need to talk to Sukuna when he returns,” Masaomi said gently but firmly. “You need to tell him how you feel, Hiromi-sama. Keeping these feelings locked away will only cause more pain. He deserves to know the truth, and you deserve the chance to find peace, whether it be with him or through closure.”

The idea of facing Sukuna after all this time, of baring your soul to him, was both terrifying and exhilarating. Your heart ached at the thought, but deep down, you knew Masaomi was right. Avoiding the truth had only prolonged your suffering.

“What if he doesn’t feel the same?” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “What if… what if I’ve lost him forever?”

Masaomi shook his head, his expression resolute. “You will never know unless you speak to him. And even if his feelings have changed, at least you will have clarity. You cannot live in this state of suffering, Hiromi-sama. It is not fair to you, and it is not fair to him.”

You took a deep breath, the enormity of the decision settling over you. “When he returns… I will talk to him. I will tell him everything.”

Masaomi’s smile broadened, a rare show of genuine happiness. “That is all I ask, Hiromi-sama. Be true to yourself and to your heart. No matter the outcome, you will have the support of the Mikoto and of those who love you.”

As the last light of the setting sun bathed the grove in a golden glow, you felt a sense of peace settle over you. The path ahead was still uncertain, but for the first time in a long while, you had a clear direction. You would confront your fears, face the truth, and fight for your own happiness, whatever that might look like.

You and Masaomi mounted your horses and began the ride back to the estate, the cool evening air washing over you. As you rode, you allowed yourself to hope. To imagine a future where you could find a way to honor both your duty and your heart, where you could find peace and perhaps, even happiness.

YOU TOOK MASAOMI’S ADVICE. The days stretched into weeks since you last saw Sukuna, the silence between you growing heavier with each passing moment. The engagement to Koku felt like a noose tightening around your neck, suffocating the very essence of who you were. You missed Sukuna terribly, his absence a constant, aching void. Finally, you could bear it no longer and summoned him to your chambers.

The night air was cool as you waited in your dimly lit room, the flickering candle casting shadows on the walls. The silence was oppressive, broken only by the sound of your own breathing. When Sukuna finally arrived, he entered quietly, his presence filling the space with an intensity that made your heart race.

“Hiromi-sama,” he said formally, bowing slightly as he stood before you. “You called for me. Why am I here?”

The formality in his tone cut through you like a knife, a stark reminder of the chasm that had grown between you. You swallowed hard, trying to find your voice. “We need to talk, Sukuna. There are things we need to say… things we need to understand.”

He nodded curtly, his eyes dark and unreadable. “Very well. Speak.”

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself. “I… I’ve missed you, Sukuna.” you began, your voice trembling. “I’ve missed us. This engagement…duty as it may be – it's tearing me apart. I can’t keep pretending that I don’t feel anything for you.”

A flicker of emotion crossed his face, but he quickly masked it. “You chose your duty, Hiromi-sama. You chose Koku.”

“I had no choice!” you cried, your voice breaking. “You know that…. My family, the clan… they all depend on this alliance. Peace depends on this. It’s not about what I want. It’s about what I have to do.”

“The Fujiwara care little for honor and you know this.” He hisses back at you. He shakes his head. “Do you honestly believe that they will not do some trickery, some game upon us?”

Your eyes narrow. “Sukuna, they are my kin. They shall honor–”

“Blood means little to the greedy.” 

“You know I cannot….” You whisper, lowering your gaze. You knew he was right. You knew that he was honest about it. When has Fujiwara been honorable? “You are not the only one suffering this, Sukuna.”

Sukuna’s eyes flashed with anger. “And what about me? What about what we have? What we had together, our love? Does that mean nothing to you? Do I mean little to you?”

Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision. “Of course it means something! It means the world to me. You mean everything to me…..But I’m trapped, Sukuna…..I…”

He took a step closer, his presence overwhelming. “You think I don’t know that? You think I don’t feel the same way? You’re not the only one suffering here, Hiromi.”

The raw emotion in his voice broke something inside you. It burns to hear only your name from his lips. Not his endearment. Not his token of love. The tears you had been holding back spilled over, and you turned away, trying to hide your vulnerability. 

“I hate this.” you whispered. “I hate all of it…..I don’t want to,....I don’t want us to fight. I don’t want to do away with this. From the person I love.”

Sukuna’s expression softened suddenly. It hurts him to see you in tears. To see you in pain. He sighed. He loses to you, he always does.  

He reached out, gently turning you to face him. “Night flower… look at me.”

You met his gaze, your heart breaking at the sight of his own anguish. “I don’t know what to do, Sukuna.” you confessed, your voice trembling. “I feel like I’m losing myself. I want to follow my heart but I just….”

He pulled you into his arms, his hold possessive and desperate. “You’re not alone in this, night flower. I told you, I will not abandon you.” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. “We’ll find a way against the Fujiwara. Trust me.”

You felt the heat of his body against yours, the familiar scent of him enveloping you. The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in the quiet, intimate space. He tilted your chin up, his eyes searching yours.

“Night flower,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “You belong with me. You know that, don’t you?”

A sob escaped your lips as you nodded, the tears streaming down your cheeks. “I know.” you whispered back. “I’ve always known.”

Sukuna’s eyes darkened with a fierce possessiveness as he leaned down, capturing your lips in a searing, desperate kiss. It was a kiss that spoke of longing, of frustration, and of a love that refused to be denied. Your initial resistance melted away as you clung to him, pouring all your pent-up emotion into that single, searing moment.

His hands roamed over your back, pulling you closer as if trying to meld your bodies into one. The intensity of his kiss left you breathless, your heart pounding in your chest. You could feel his desperation, his need for you, mirrored in your own.

When he finally pulled back, his breath ragged, he rested his forehead against yours. “I can’t let you go.” he whispers to you tenderly, shutting his eyes.. “No matter what it takes, night flower.  I’ll do it. Just….just stay with me.”

You nodded, the tears still streaming down your face. “I’m sorry, my love.” you agreed, your voice a whisper. “I really am.”

“You don’t have to apologize.”

“But I—”

He says, his eyes opening once more. “I’ll kiss you.”

You looked at him, tears spilling from your eyes. “Do it.”

“Beg for it.”

In the heat of the moment, your words dissolved into a needy moan, your fingers tangling in his hair as you surrendered to the overwhelming desire that pulsed between you. "Don't tease me." you pleaded, your voice husky with need, unable to deny the magnetic pull of his touch. “Please, my love.”

“Hm… what does this little flower want?”

“You.” You moaned, weak against his warmth. “Only you, my love.”

Sukuna’s response was immediate and primal. He growled deep in his throat, the sound reverberating through you and igniting a fierce, uncontrollable hunger. His hands gripped your hips with bruising force, pulling you flush against his hard body. The intensity of his need matched your own, a raw, animalistic force that threatened to consume you both.

With a low, guttural sound, Sukuna's lips crashed down on yours, not gentle or tender, but demanding and feral. His kiss was a storm, fierce and unrelenting, his teeth grazing your lower lip as if to mark you as his. You gasped into his mouth, the pain only heightening your desire, and he took the opportunity to delve deeper, his tongue tangling with yours in a battle for dominance.

Your fingers tightened in his hair, pulling him closer, needing to feel every inch of him. His hands roamed your body with a possessive urgency, his touch setting your skin aflame. He pushed you against the wall, the cool surface a stark contrast to the heat of his body, and you arched into him, a desperate whimper escaping your lips.

Sukuna's grip on you tightened, his nails digging into your flesh as he growled against your mouth. "You're mine, night flower." he snarled, his voice rough with possession and desire. "All mine."

The ferocity in his words sent a shiver down your spine, and you moaned, your body reacting instinctively to his dominance. You clawed at his clothed back, needing to feel him closer, to be consumed by the fire between you. Sukuna responded in kind, his mouth leaving a trail of fiery kisses down your neck, biting and sucking at the sensitive skin, marking you as his own.

Your breaths came in ragged gasps, the world narrowing to just the two of you, lost in a whirlwind of passion and need. Every touch, every kiss, was a desperate claim, a refusal to let go. The line between pleasure and pain blurred as Sukuna's teeth grazed your collarbone, your back arching in response, pressing your body harder against his.

He pushed you back against the wall with a force that left you breathless, his body pressing firmly against yours. The hard, unyielding surface behind you contrasted starkly with the searing heat of his touch, sending a jolt of electricity coursing through your veins. Your back arched instinctively, seeking more of the delicious friction he offered, as your senses were overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. 

His hands roamed possessively over your body, igniting flames of desire wherever they touched. The sensation of his fingers tracing the contours of your skin sent shivers down your spine, awakening a hunger you hadn't realized was lying dormant within you. With each caress, each brush of his lips against your skin, you felt yourself surrendering to the primal need that pulsed between you.

Your hands found their way into his hair, fingers tangling in the soft strands as you pulled him closer, urging him to deepen the kiss. Sukuna's lips trailed down your neck, leaving a burning path of bites and kisses in their wake. Each touch was like fire against your skin, sending waves of pleasure cascading through your body and making your head spin with dizzying delight.

With a rough, almost desperate motion, he tore at your clothes, his hands exploring your skin with a fervent need that sent shivers down your spine. Fabric tore away under his touch, leaving you exposed and vulnerable to his hungry gaze. The air crackled with anticipation as he hungrily drank in the sight of your bare skin, his eyes ablaze with an intensity that made your heart race even faster.

You tear at his clothes eagerly, happily — not caring about the cost, the damage. Such fine clothes do not need to exist. You wanted him. You wanted your lover. You did not care for much else. You wanted it off. You wanted to feel him. Skin to skin, the advent of bare worlds merging together in the flesh. 

"I've waited long enough," he growled, his breath hot against your ear as he pressed his body closer to yours, his lips tantalizingly close to yours. The heat of his words sent a surge of desire coursing through you, igniting a fire that threatened to consume you both. “I can’t do it anymore.”

The raw hunger in his voice stirred something primal within you, awakening a need that mirrored his own. You found yourself responding to him with an urgency you couldn't deny, your body arching into his touch as you surrendered to the overwhelming passion that pulsed between you.

His hands moved with purpose, exploring every inch of your exposed skin with a reverence that made your breath catch in your throat. Fingers traced delicate patterns along your curves, sending electric currents dancing across your flesh and setting your nerve endings ablaze with sensation.

"I won't let anyone else have you," he vowed, his words a fierce declaration of possession as he claimed you as his own. There was a primal possessiveness in his touch, a certainty that you belonged to him and him alone, that sent a thrill of excitement racing through you. “No one, not any man. No one.”

In that moment, there was no room for doubt or hesitation, only the wild, untamed passion that burned between you. You surrendered yourself completely to him, giving in to the irresistible pull of desire that drew you together like moths to a flame.

As his lips crashed down on yours once more, sealing the union, that vow with a searing kiss. You knew that there was no turning back. You were his, body and soul, bound together in a love that defied reason and logic, a love that would endure for eternity.

As Sukuna's lips claimed yours in a fervent kiss, his hands continued their exploration of your exposed skin, tracing every curve and contour with an expert touch that left you trembling with anticipation. With each caress, he seemed to stoke the flames of desire within you, igniting a burning hunger that threatened to consume you entirely.

His touch was electrifying, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body and leaving you yearning for more. Fingers danced along the sensitive skin of your neck, trailing down to your collarbone before wandering lower, teasing the edges of your desire.

With a skillful motion, Sukuna's hands roamed lower still, tracing the outline of your hips before slipping beneath the fabric of your remaining clothing. His touch was bold and confident, fingers dancing lightly over the heated flesh of your thighs as he moved ever closer to the source of your need.

You gasped as his fingertips brushed against your most intimate parts, sending waves of pleasure rippling through you. Each touch was like fire against your skin, igniting a wildfire of sensation that threatened to consume you entirely.

Sukuna's touch was relentless, brutish. You feel like you would burn at each motion. His fingers expertly coaxing forth the symphony of pleasure that lay dormant within you. With each stroke, each caress, he pushed you closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy, his lips claiming yours in a heated kiss that mirrored the fervor of your desire.

As the intensity of his touch reached its peak, you felt yourself teetering on the brink of release. Moan after moan, your entire being was consumed by the flames of passion that raged between you. With a final, exquisite touch, Sukuna pushes you over the edge, sending you spiraling into the depths of pleasure as you surrender yourself completely to him.

Your reaction was one of pure ecstasy, a symphony of pleasure that swept through every fiber of your being. As Sukuna's skilled hands and lips worked their magic, you felt yourself unraveling, surrendering to the overwhelming tide of sensation that threatened to consume you entirely.

Every touch, every caress sent sparks of pleasure shooting through your body, igniting a fire that burned hotter with each passing moment. Your breath came in ragged gasps, your heart pounding in your chest as you teetered on the edge of release.

When Sukuna finally pushed you over that edge, sending you spiraling into the depths of ecstasy, it was like nothing you had ever experienced before. You felt like you were seeing the stars for the first time.

The way he made you feel, the way his fingers played through your confines made you quiver, shake over and over. Wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you, each one more intense than the last, until you were lost in a haze of pure bliss.

As the intensity of the moment began to ebb, Sukuna's voice cut through the haze of pleasure, his tone husky with desire. "You're mine," he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. He bites against your neck. “Mine, mine. Forever mine.”

You let out a soft moan of contentment, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on his chest. His possessiveness could only ever make you even more pleasured.

"’kuna," you whispered, your voice barely audible. You felt broken against him, so deliciously broken. And he loved it. “I’m…gonna…gonna…ah!”

The air crackled with raw intensity as Sukuna's gaze bore into yours, his eyes dark with desire. "Say it," he demanded, his voice a low growl that sent a shiver down your spine. “Say it, night flower.”

"I'm yours," you replied, your voice filled with a mixture of passion and submission. “I’m….oh…I’m yours! Yours!”

Sukuna's grip tightened on your waist, his fingers digging into your skin with an almost painful urgency. "Louder, little one." he commanded, his voice tinged with a hint of dominance. “I don’t care if they hear us. Louder.”

"I'm yours!" you exclaimed, your voice rising with each word as you surrender yourself completely to him.

A fierce hunger burned in Sukuna's eyes as he claimed you once more, his touch rough and possessive as he took you to heights of pleasure you had never known before. Every movement was charged with an intensity that left you gasping for breath, his hands exploring every inch of your body with a relentless urgency that drove you to the brink of madness.

As the crescendo of passion reached its peak, you felt yourself teetering on the edge of ecstasy, your senses overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of the moment. And then, with a cry that echoed through the room, you came undone in his arms, waves of pleasure crashing over you like a tidal wave, leaving you trembling and spent in the aftermath of your shared release.

In that moment, there was no past, no future, only the present - a fleeting instant of pure, unadulterated bliss that bound you together in a timeless embrace.

And as you basked in the afterglow of your shared passion, you knew that this was where you belonged - in the arms of the one who had awakened the deepest desires within you.

Sukuna's lips curled into a smug smirk as he watched you, his eyes alight with satisfaction at having brought you to such heights of pleasure. His chest rose and fell with each ragged breath, a silent testament to the intensity of the moment.

"Was that everything you hoped for?" he asked, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction.

You could only nod in response, your body still trembling with the aftershocks of your release. Words failed you in that moment, lost in the overwhelming sensation of being utterly and completely consumed by him.

Sukuna's smirk widened as he leaned in to press a lingering kiss to your lips, his touch gentle now, a stark contrast to the rough intensity of moments before.

"You belong to me, night flower." he murmured against your skin, his words a promise and a vow all rolled into one. “You are mine to love, to have, to live, to breathe. To bow to. To yearn for. You are only mine.”

“Make it so.” You huff tenderly at your lover. “I am truly yours.”

As Sukuna's hands skillfully undid the fastenings of his pants, releasing his arousal, a surge of anticipation coursed through your veins like wildfire. The sight of him, his eyes ablaze with unbridled desire, set your heart thundering against your chest with an intensity that matched the rhythm of your racing breaths. In that electrifying moment, the confines of the room seemed to shrink, the air thick with the palpable tension of longing and need.

With a hunger so primal it bordered on desperation, you met his lips once more in a pulsing kiss, your bodies melding together in a fiery embrace.

The world dissolved into a blur of sensation as you drowned in the heady rush of his touch, every caress like a flame igniting your skin, sending ripples of pleasure cascading through your entire being. Each brush of his fingertips against your skin was a symphony of ecstasy, each stroke leaving you gasping for more.

Your hands moved with a frenzied urgency, exploring every inch of his body with a fevered passion. Fingers traced the contours of his form, memorizing every dip and curve as you surrendered yourself to the intoxicating pull of desire.

There was no room for restraint in this tempest of passion, no need for words as your bodies spoke the language of lust and longing, entwined in a dance as old as time itself.

When you parted for air, Sukuna moved slightly and you watched as he towered before you, even in his kneeling position. His presence was overwhelming, commanding the entirety of the room. His figure exuded an aura of raw power, every sinew and muscle of his sculpted physique hinting at the strength that lay beneath. 

Your eyes trailed down his form, taking in the breadth of his shoulders and the defined lines of his torso. He was a towering figure, his height accentuated by the sheer magnitude of his presence. And as your gaze lingered on the bulge straining against the fabric of his pants, you couldn't help but marvel at the sheer size of him.

He was a man of undeniable stature, you had always known so. But to see him in full, to the bareness of his person – you found that he was possessing a primal magnetism that drew you in even more with an irresistible force. And as he moved closer, the intensity of his presence seemed to envelop you, filling the air with an electric charge that sent shivers down your spine.

In that moment, you were acutely aware of just how small you felt in comparison, and yet, there was an undeniable allure to his size, a primal instinct that stirred within you at the thought of being consumed by him entirely.

And as he drew you into his embrace, you couldn't help but surrender yourself to the overwhelming sensation of being enveloped by his sheer magnitude, knowing that in his arms, you were safe and utterly, completely his.

As Sukuna stood before you, his presence looming large, you couldn't help but remark, "You're so... big."

A smirk played on his lips as he leaned in, his voice low and husky. "And you like that, don't you?" he teased, the heat of his breath sending a shiver down your spine.

You nodded, feeling a flush rise to your cheeks as you admitted, "Yes, I do."

Sukuna's smirk widened into a grin as he closed the distance between you, his arms enveloping you in a strong embrace. "Good." he murmured against your ear, his voice laced with desire. "Because I'm going to make you feel every inch of it."

As Sukuna positioned himself above you, a primal hunger burned in his eyes, mirroring the fierce desire coursing through your veins. With a rough urgency, he slid inside, the heat of your connection igniting a wildfire of sensation that threatened to consume you both. Your eyes locked in a fierce gaze, a silent acknowledgment of the raw passion that bound you together.

His thrusts were relentless, each movement driving you both closer to the edge of oblivion. With each powerful thrust, he claimed you as his own, his dominance asserting itself with every primal urge. Your body met his roughness as though a thunderous wave against a cliff. You surrendered to him, every touch igniting sparks of pleasure that sent shockwaves through your entire being.

Before you could react, Sukuna closed the distance between you in a heartbeat, his hands gripping your shoulders with a possessive strength that left no room for escape. His touch was rough, demanding, as he pinned you beneath him, a primal force of nature unleashed. In that moment, there was no denying the intensity of his desire, no escaping the magnetic pull of his dark desires.

The hard, unyielding surface undernearth burnt you as his thrusts pushed you against the tatami floor and over roughly. It was a sharp contrasted with the searing heat of his touch, heightening the sensations that coursed through your body. Your hands instinctively reached for him, fingers tangling in his hair as you returned his kiss with equal fervor.

As Sukuna positioned himself to bottom out, his eyes ablaze with hunger, he whispered huskily, "My darling wife, my little bride. My night flower.”

Your breath hitched as you met his intense gaze, feeling a surge of arousal coursing through you. "Yes, yes….y’r wi’e, ah, ah yo’r bri’e!" you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. “M’ husb’d, my husba’d!”

With a primal growl, Sukuna claimed your lips in a battering kiss, his hands gripping your shoulders with possessive strength. "Good little wife." he murmured against your lips, his voice rough with desire. " I'm going to show you what it means to belong to me."

As Sukuna's desire intensified, so did his movements. With a growl of primal need, he increased the force of his thrusts, driving himself deeper into you with each powerful movement. Your body responded eagerly to his rough dominance, every thrust sending waves of pleasure crashing through you.

You gasped at the intensity of his actions, your nails digging into his back as you surrendered yourself completely, honestly, truthfully, to the raw passion of the moment. "Mo’e," you moaned, your voice thick with desire. “Faster, fast’r…oh, oh!”

Sukuna's lips curled into a feral grin as he complied with your plea, his movements becoming even rougher, more primal. Each thrust was a declaration of his dominance, a reminder of the unbridled passion that burned between you.

With each thrust, Sukuna's control slipped further, consumed by the primal urge to possess you completely. His movements were primal, bordering on savage, as he claimed you as his own with each powerful thrust. The room echoed with the sound of your moans, a symphony of pleasure that filled the air as you surrendered yourself to the intoxicating rhythm of his desire.

You arched your back, meeting each of his thrusts with equal fervor, your bodies moving in perfect harmony as you sought to satisfy the insatiable hunger that burned between you. The intensity of the moment was overwhelming, a whirlwind of sensation that threatened to engulf you both in its fiery embrace.

As Sukuna's primal desire surged, he growled against your ear, his voice thick with lust. "You feel so good, so tight around me," he rasped, his breath hot against your skin.

Your own voice was lost in a symphony of pleasure, your moans mingling with his as you surrendered to the primal rhythm of your bodies. "Hard’r!," you pleaded, your nails digging into his skin as you urged him on. “I’m feeling….I’m feel’ng… Please!, ‘on’t stop! ‘Kuna, ah!”

With a primal grunt, Sukuna complied, his thrusts becoming even more forceful, more desperate. Each movement sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you, building towards an inevitable climax that promised to consume you both in its fiery embrace. 

You were certain that you could no longer think. Not about propriety, or who ever could hear. It doesn’t matter. Only he did. He was your world. And you know you were his.

As the intensity of your pleasure peaked, you felt yourself teetering on the edge of ecstasy. "’m cloooose…" you gasped, your voice strained with the impending release. Tears flow through your face freely.  “‘Kuna, it…oh, oh!”

Sukuna's movements became even more relentless, driving you towards the brink with a primal urgency. He bites against your neck hard, causing you to mewl. 

 "Come for me," he growled, his voice rough with desire as he urged you on. “Come, little wife. You could do it. Give your husband one more.”

With a cry of ecstasy, you shattered into a million pieces, waves of pleasure crashing over you in an overwhelming crescendo. Your body trembled with the force of your release, every nerve ending ablaze with sensation as you surrendered yourself completely to the pleasure that consumed you.

But Sukuna wasn't far behind. With a feral roar, he followed you over the edge, his own release tearing through him with a savage intensity. You felt him pulse inside you, each throb of his hot release sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body. 

As you both rode out the aftershocks of your shared climax, you collapsed into each other's arms, spent and sated. In that moment, there was no room for anything else but the raw, unbridled passion that bound you together. 

As you lay entwined in the aftermath of your passionate encounter, Sukuna held you close, his breath still ragged with desire. "I never want to be separated from you." he whispered, his voice husky with emotion. “Not in this lifetime, not the next. Never.”

You melted into his embrace, overwhelmed by the intensity of his declaration. "I don't ever want to be apart from you either." you murmured, your heart swelling with love.

Sukuna's arms tightened around you possessively, as if afraid to let you slip away. "Promise me you'll stay." he pleaded, his voice tinged with vulnerability. “Don’t ever leave me again.”

You looked up into his eyes, seeing the depth of his love reflected in their depths. "I promise, my love." you vowed, sealing your commitment with a lingering kiss. “Now and forever.”

IT WAS TERRIFYING TO STAND BEFORE YOUR FATHER NOW. You and Sukuna knelt side by side in the grand hall, the tension thick in the air. Before you stood your father, Lord Isamu, and his brother, Hiramu, Sukuna’s own adoptive father — your uncle. The gravity of the situation weighed heavily on you, it now feels real. But you had made your decision. It was time to face the consequences of your actions.

The grand hall, with its high ceilings and ornate decorations, seemed to close in around you. The silence was oppressive, broken only by the occasional rustle of clothing or the distant murmur of servants. Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat a reminder of the enormity of what you were about to confess.

Sukuna's hand in yours was a small comfort, a reminder that you were not alone in this. His presence, solid and unwavering, gave you the strength to meet the stern gazes of the men before you. Lord Isamu, your father, looked weary, the lines on his face deepening with concern. Hiramu, Sukuna's father, wore a mixture of curiosity and amusement, his eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief.

"Father," you began, your voice trembling slightly, "we have come to confess something important."

Isamu’s eyes narrowed slightly, a subtle indication of anticipation His gaze, warm and reassuring, also held a hint of wariness as he studied you, as if trying to decipher the truth behind your words. It was a look you had seen before, often preceding moments of stern reprimand or heartfelt advice.

You swallowed hard, the weight of his scrutiny bearing down on you like a heavy burden. Despite the urge to look away, you met his gaze head-on, determined to convey the sincerity of your words. There was no turning back now; you and Sukuna had made your decision, and you were prepared to face the consequences, whatever they may be.

"Sukuna and I... we've... we've performed all the acts of marriage," you confessed, the words spilling from your lips in a rush. Each syllable hung in the air, heavy with implication, as you awaited your father's reaction.

For a moment, there was silence—a pregnant pause that seemed to stretch on indefinitely. Isamu's expression remained inscrutable, his features a mask of carefully controlled emotion. It was as if he were weighing your words, measuring them against some unseen standard of judgment.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he spoke. "Is that so?" he said, his voice deceptively calm. There was a sharpness to his tone, a subtle undercurrent of disapproval that sent a chill down your spine. It was a tone you knew all too well—a warning that you were treading on dangerous ground.

You felt a pang of guilt at the thought that it was disappointment in his eyes. Yet, beneath the veneer of reproach, there was something else—a flicker of understanding, perhaps, or even a trace of resignation. Isamu was a man of duty, bound by the traditions and obligations of his station, but he was also a father, with all the complexities and contradictions that entailed. You were his only child left. What should he let you suffer more? 

As you awaited his response, you couldn't help but wonder what thoughts were swirling in his mind. Was he disappointed in you? Angry? Or did he, in some small corner of his heart, understand the depth of your love for Sukuna, despite the circumstances?

Whatever the case, one thing was certain: the road ahead would not be easy. You had chosen to defy convention, to follow your heart in the face of overwhelming opposition. But as you looked into Isamu's eyes, you knew that you would face whatever challenges came your way, you would not forsake Sukuna. He was yours. He was your heart. He was your soul. Your husband. You would not forsake him, even if your father did.

Sukuna took your hand, his grip firm and reassuring. "Ryomen Hiromi, the most noble of your blood, is my wife." he said clearly, his voice unwavering. "In every way that matters, we are husband and wife, my lord. I will not….I will not forsake my wife. Not even if you put me to death for it.”

A heavy silence fell over the room. Ryomen Isamu sighed deeply, his shoulders slumping with the weight of the revelation. He felt a headache pulse through his head. The hubris of love between the youth. He could only wonder what it was like.

"This means the marriage with Koku cannot happen." he said, his voice tinged with weariness. The strain of the past weeks was evident in his eyes, the conflict between duty and his love for you tearing at him. “After all the work we put into it….”

“Father, I know that I….that I insisted on doing my duty.” You gulped as you held tighter to Sukuna’s hand. “But I cannot forsake my heart. I love Sukuna. I do. And my heart, it is stronger than anything else. I cannot live without it. And I cannot live without Sukuna. Please, father. I shall do anything you ask of me.”

“I too will do the same.” Sukuna added hastily as he held his head high in front of your father. He looks to you for a moment, before he returns his attention to his new father-in-law. “I am devoted to your daughter. Only to Hiromi. If there must be consequences, I will bear it with my wife, as she insists. We are yours to command, my lord.”

Hiramu laughed, breaking the tension with a hearty sound. "At least the kids are honest with us now, eh, brother?," he said, clapping Sukuna on the shoulder. He turned to you with a warm smile. "Welcome to the family, daughter-in-law."

You blushed at his words, feeling a mixture of relief and embarrassment. Holding Sukuna's hand tightly, you looked up at your father. You let go of your husband’s hand and slowly lowered yourself to bow towards your uncle. “Thank you, father-in-law.”

Isamu's stern expression softened slightly, and he slowly nodded. “Well, what is there for me to do, brother? We have no choice….They have consummated marriage. It is known. It is done.”

“I shall try to be worthy of your trust, father-in-law.” Sukuna too humbled himself, bowing before your father, who sighed heavily at his act.“I will not let you down.”

“You best not.” Isamu retorts back, his words stern. “My daughter risks ruin, the clan risks war. There is much that costs us. You both followed your hearts more than your brain’s logics–”

"Now calm down, brother. You act like you aren’t happy that your daughter is happy." Hiramu said, snickering.

“She is my only child left, I am happy. But as clan leader, I simply cannot—”

Hiramu waved his elder brother off. "We'll deal with it. As long as Hiromi and Sukuna are happy. I don’t think anything is to be frowned upon.”

Isamu sighed, nodding resignedly at his younger brother’s words. “Perhaps your grandfather would be satisfied with a plausible marriage peace between your future children and Koku’s own children.”

“Or if there is a war—”

“Brother, we will not seek war just because our children wed.” Isamu sighed at his younger brother, who rolled his eyes. “There is more logic to Ankoku–dono than that.”

“We shall see.” Hiramu snickers bitterly. 

Tears welled in your eyes at his words, a flood of emotions overwhelming you. The fear, the uncertainty, and the relief all mingled together, leaving you momentarily speechless. Sukuna squeezed your hand, grounding you, his presence a steady anchor in the storm of your feelings.

"Thank you, father," you finally managed to say, your voice thick with emotion. "I know this isn't what we have planned, but I promise we'll make it work. We'll find a way to honor our families with the duties you endow on us now.”

Isamu nodded again, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "You always were strong-willed, little one." he said softly. "I told you. I have always known you would find your own path."

Hiramu chuckled. "And it's a good path." he said, his eyes twinkling with pride. "No paths are bound, after all. The Ryomen will be stronger for this. Do not worry.”

As you knelt there, holding Sukuna's hand, you felt a sense of peace settle over you. The road ahead would be challenging, but you were not alone. With your family’s blessing, and Sukuna by your side, you were ready to face whatever came next. Nothing is hard now.

YOU ENJOYED THE PEACE IN SUKUNA’S ARMS. In the serene embrace of marital bliss, the world outside seemed to fade away as you and Sukuna basked in the warmth of each other's love. With every tender caress and whispered endearment, you found solace in the sanctuary of each other's arms. 

Your father and uncle's decision to delay the announcement of your marriage felt like a reprieve, a precious respite from the tumultuous currents of politics and conflict that swirled around you. In these quiet moments, you reveled in the simple joys of the companionship of your husband. In these slowly drifting days of joy, you happily yearned for finding refuge from the storm that raged beyond the confines of your shared quarters.

The prospect of a public declaration of your union loomed on the horizon, promising both joy and uncertainty. You do not know how the whole world will react. But for now, you were content to linger in this private cocoon of happiness, savoring each stolen moment together.

The world does not sleep in your bed. Your husband does. And you wanted to indulge into the privacy of your world as much as you could. You wanted to belong to each other before you did the world.

Wrapped in the soft glow of candlelight, you and Sukuna exchanged tender glances and gentle smiles, your hearts overflowing with love and gratitude. In each other's presence, you found strength and reassurance, a beacon of hope in a world fraught with uncertainty.

As you lay intertwined in a tangle of limbs and whispers, the outside world faded into obscurity, its worries and conflicts distant echoes in the hush of the night. Here, in the sacred space of your love, you found sanctuary from the chaos that threatened to engulf the world outside. And for a fleeting moment, all was right in the world.

As the moon cast its gentle glow upon the room, you lay beside Sukuna, his warmth a comforting presence beside you. Thoughts of the future danced through your minds, visions of a family together, of laughter and love filling the halls of your home.

As Sukuna's whispered desire lingered in the air, his voice carrying the weight of his affection and longing, you felt a blush tinge your cheeks, a telltale sign of the emotions stirring within you.

His words, filled with warmth and tenderness, ignited a spark of joy in your heart, the prospect of sharing in the joys of parenthood with him filling you with a sense of profound happiness.

“I should like a daughter.” He whispers to you in the dawn of moonlight, kissing your cheeks tenderly. “One that looks like you. With all your warmth and your beauty. I should be satisfied with spoiling a tender girl from you.”

"I would be happy with that." you confessed, your voice soft and filled with love, your heart overflowing with adoration for the man beside you. The thought of bringing a daughter into the world, a precious soul to cherish and nurture, filled you with a sense of purpose and fulfillment. “But I want her to look like you too.”

“We can have a few.”

You pouted at him. “But that shall take effort.”

He laughs, pinching your cheeks. “Who says I shan’t have the effort to make it possible?”

“Oh, you are so happy to enjoy being in bed with me so well.”

Your husband nudges his head against your head. “Is it too bad for a happy husband to indulge in his little wife?”

“No,” You can only sigh with that, letting him hold you closer. “I shall indulge my husband as he pleases.”

Sukuna had a small playful glint danced in his eyes, his smirk betraying a mischievousness that never failed to elicit a chuckle from you. “Then my little wife shall be spoiled as can be by my affections.”

“Hm…I shall let you do so.”

“Oh, you must or I shall be forceful with it.” He presses kisses across your neck, inciting giggles out of you. 

"But I should like a son. One that takes after you," you admitted to him, your voice laced with affectionate teasing, a smile playing at the corners of your lips. “With your sharp eyes and your impatience. Your cheeky nature. I shall like that so much.”

Sukuna's smirk widened into a playful grin as his fingers brushed against your loose locks, his touch sending a shiver of delight coursing through you. "You desire such a boy swaddling against your chest the way I do?" he teased, his voice tinged with amusement. “Oh, you shall like that won’t you?”

You couldn't help but laugh at his jest, swatting his hand playfully as a blush colored your cheeks. "Oh, you are insufferable, my love." you chided, though the fondness in your voice betrayed your true feelings. “All too much.”

In moments like these, surrounded by Sukuna's playful banter and affectionate teasing, you found yourself falling even deeper in love with the man who held your heart. The thought of starting a family together filled you with a sense of purpose, a shared dream that bound you together even more tightly.

Sukuna's playful smirk softened into a tender smile as he gazed at you, his eyes alight with affection. "Only because I love you, little wife." he whispered, his voice filled with sincerity. “My only night flower.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, the warmth of his love enveloping you like a gentle embrace. Despite the teasing banter, there was an undeniable depth to Sukuna's affection, a steadfast devotion that anchored you to him in a bond that transcended words.

"I love you too," you replied softly, your voice barely above a whisper. In that moment, surrounded by the warmth of Sukuna's embrace and the soft glow of the moonlight, you felt a sense of completeness wash over you, as if all the pieces of your soul had finally found their rightful place. “More than you know.”

As the night wore on, you both drifted into a peaceful slumber, the rhythm of each other's breathing a comforting lullaby. In each other's arms, you found safety and serenity, the worries of the world fading into insignificance.

But the tranquility was short-lived. Abruptly, you were jolted awake by urgent shouts and the clamor of weapons clashing. Your uncle's voice pierced through the darkness, his words heavy with urgency.

“Rouse from your bed, make haste!”

“What has happened?” You pondered as you scrambled to your feet, with your husband’s help.

"The Fujiwara are attacking." he exclaimed clearly, with no hesitation.

Sukuna mumbles. "They never intended to keep the peace. They intended a distraction.”

Hiramu shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter now. There’s a lot to be done.”

“What must we do, uncle?” You whispered to him, your brows furrowing.

“Kill.” Hiramu uttered with tension. “In the way a Ryomen knows how.“

In an instant, the peace you had cherished was shattered, replaced by the harsh reality of war. With a sense of dread knotting in your stomach, you looked at Sukuna who nodded back at you resolutely. Your uncle led the way, his voice ringing through the compound. There was no way back. There was only kill, or be killed.

THERE WAS NO TIME TO WORRY ABOUT YOUR PROPRIETY. Emerging from the confines of your residence, still clad in the elegant folds of your inside kimono, you stepped outside hand in hand with your husband, Sukuna. The air crackled with tension, and the acrid scent of battle hung heavy in the air, mingling with the subtle fragrance of cherry blossoms that drifted on the breeze.

As chaos erupted outside, the once serene courtyard transformed into a battleground, the urgent clangor of battle reverberating through the air like a thunderous symphony. The sounds of metal meeting metal, of shouted commands and desperate pleas, filled the space around you, drowning out all other noise.

With a sense of grim determination, you and Sukuna rushed forward alongside your uncle, your footsteps quick and purposeful. The courtyard was a hive of activity, clan members standing shoulder to shoulder, their faces set in expressions of fierce resolve as they channeled their cursed energy to create a protective dome shield against the relentless onslaught of the Fujiwara attacks.

Amidst the chaos, voices rose in a cacophony of sound, some screaming encouragement and rallying cries, while others spat curses and insults at their adversaries. The air crackled with a palpable tension, each member of the clan fully immersed in the gravity of the situation, their commitment to defending their home and their loved ones unwavering.

For a brief moment, time seemed to stand still as you took in the scene before you, the tableau of bravery and sacrifice etched into the very fabric of your being. With every beat of your heart, you felt the weight of responsibility pressing down upon you, urging you to stand tall and fight for what you believed in.

With Sukuna's hand clasped tightly in yours, you steeled yourself for the battle ahead, drawing strength from the unwavering support of your loved ones. Together, you would face whatever challenges lay ahead, united in your determination to protect everything you held dear.

With determination etched into your features, you turned to Sukuna, your eyes meeting him with unwavering resolve. "I'll go and release cursed energy to reinforce the shield," you declared, your voice firm despite the tremor of fear that lingered in the depths of your being.

“You go with uncle Hiramu. There’s so many sectors of the manor that remain unshielded. They need you more than I do right now.”

Sukuna's gaze softened with concern, his hand reaching out to gently cup your cheek. "And I'll go and fight in areas the shield can't reach," he vowed, his voice resolute as he met your eyes with unwavering determination. “Be safe, wife.”

You nodded in silent agreement, a silent understanding passing between you as you shared a brief, tender kiss. In that fleeting moment, you conveyed a wealth of unspoken promises and emotions, a silent vow to stand together against the tide of adversity.

With one final, lingering glance, you and Sukuna parted ways, the weight of the impending battle heavy on your shoulders. Each determined to do your part in the raging conflict that threatened to consume your home, you rushed towards your respective duties, the urgency of the moment propelling you forward.

As you sprinted towards your kin, your body thrummed with an electrifying surge of cursed energy, its power coursing through your veins like a raging torrent. Every step forward was fueled by a fierce determination to protect those you loved, to stand firm against the tide of adversity that threatened to overwhelm you.

Your kin turned to you, their eyes alight with a mixture of hope and desperation as you approached, the aura of your cursed energy pulsating around you like a halo of light. With a determined focus, you joined your palms together, the air crackling with anticipation as the energy around you intensified, thickening against the encroaching darkness.

As you unleashed the full force of your cursed energy, a blinding white light erupted from your palms, enveloping those around you in a protective barrier of pulsating energy.

With each passing moment, the barrier expanded, its formidable strength pushing back against the relentless onslaught of the Fujiwara attacks, offering a glimmer of hope amidst the chaos that raged around you.

“Be careful, Hiromi–sama!” One of your kinsfolk says to you, his strained voice echoing across the courtyard to you. 

"I will," you called back, your voice firm with resolve. With a final wave, you turned back to face the fray, your focus fully on the task at hand.

As you continued to channel your cursed energy, the strain of maintaining the protective barrier began to take its toll on your body. Beads of sweat formed on your brow as you poured every ounce of your strength into the effort, the weight of responsibility pressing down upon you like a heavy burden. You knew this cannot be kept up for too long.

You can give as much as your cursed energy as much as you can, but the other kinsfolk would not last. If you don’t have them, the barriers would fall.

As the chaos of battle unfolded around you, your voice rang out with commanding authority, cutting through the clamor like a clarion call. With a fierce determination burning in your eyes, you singled out one of the guards amidst the fray, his sword gripped tightly in his hand.

"You!" you shouted, your voice echoing across the courtyard with a commanding force. "Rally all the women and children towards the tunnels. Alert an evacuation now!"

The urgency in your tone left no room for hesitation as you issued your orders, your gaze unwavering as you met the guard's eyes. Every word was imbued with a sense of purpose, a stark reminder of the gravity of the situation at hand.

Around you, the chaos of battle continued to rage, but amidst the turmoil, your voice served as a beacon of clarity and direction. With swift efficiency, the guard nodded in acknowledgment of your command, his movements quick and decisive as he set about carrying out your orders.

As you turned back, your heart pounding with a mixture of fear and determination, a scene of horror unfolded before your eyes. One by one, your kinsfolk fell to the merciless onslaught, their cries of pain and desperation echoing in the air like a haunting melody of despair.

Shock and disbelief washed over you as you watched in horror, your gaze fixed on the figure responsible for the carnage. It was your own mother, Akiko, her features twisted with a madness that chilled you to the bone.

Tears welled in your eyes as you struggled to comprehend the betrayal unfolding before you, the realization of her treachery cutting deep like a dagger to the heart.

The protective barrier you had worked so tirelessly to maintain began to falter, the cursed energy of the Fujiwara merging and multiplying with each passing moment. As the shield came crashing down, a sense of dread settled over you like a suffocating blanket, the full weight of the impending doom bearing down upon you like a relentless storm.

In the chaos and confusion that ensued, you found yourself paralyzed with shock, your mind reeling as you tried to make sense of the nightmare unfolding before you. The once tranquil grounds of Ryomen Manor were now engulfed in a maelstrom of violence and destruction, the air thick with the stench of death and decay.

With a heavy heart, you realized that the battle was lost before it had even begun. As the cursed energy of the Fujiwara swept over the manor like a tidal wave of darkness, you knew that there was little hope of survival in the face of such overwhelming odds.

You stumbled backward, disbelief etched on your face as you locked eyes with your mother, Fujiwara Akiko, amidst the chaos. "You…... how could you?" Your voice quivered with a mixture of hurt and betrayal, unable to comprehend the depths of her actions.

Akiko's gaze bore into yours, devoid of any remorse or empathy, her expression twisted into a cruel sneer. "Oh little foolish girl." she hissed, her voice dripping with malice. "You were always too weak, too sentimental. You have no place in the new order I am creating."

Tears welled in your eyes as her words cut through you like a knife, the realization of her betrayal striking you like a physical blow.

"But... why?" you choked out, your voice barely above a whisper.

A bitter laugh escaped Akiko's lips, the sound sending shivers down your spine. "Why, you ask? Because power is all that matters, my dear. And I will stop at nothing to seize it, even if it means sacrificing everything I once held dear."

As the shock of betrayal rooted you to the spot, you watched in horror as your mother, consumed by madness and darkness, charged towards you with lethal intent. The air crackled with tension, each heartbeat echoing in your ears like a drumbeat of impending doom.

Just as despair threatened to consume you, a sudden rush of movement caught your attention. With a sense of surreal relief, you saw Sukuna appear beside you, his presence a beacon of hope amidst the chaos. Without hesitation, he unleashed his devastating technique, Cleave, with a swift and powerful strike aimed at your mother.

Time seemed to slow as the force of Sukuna's attack collided with your mother, the impact sending shockwaves rippling through the air. You watched in awe as the sheer power of the technique tore through the darkness that had consumed her, dispersing it like a veil lifted by the wind.

As your mother staggered back, her form wavering and flickering like a candle flame on the verge of extinguishment, he sent another wave of Cleave towards her. Finally, she fell dead. She was a traitor. And he would not forgive her.

You stare at the lifeless corpse of your mother, your pupils shaking. Sukuna rushed to you and held you. You looked at him, in a state of delirium as everything burned around you in intense flame.

“S-she…”

“It’s okay.”

“Where’s father?” You asked him frantically, “Uncle Hiramu?”

“They’re on their way here, night flower. Do not worry.” He whispers to you. “They are keeping the Fujiwara at bay, so the others may leave.”

“Then….”

“We must fight here.”

As the once tranquil grounds of Ryomen Manor erupted into chaos, the air was thick with the acrid scent of smoke and the sounds of battle. The double heron banner of the Ryomen clan, a symbol of pride and honor, burned amidst the turmoil, its flames a grim reminder of the devastation that had befallen the once-proud estate.

You and Sukuna stood side by side, your backs against each other as you faced wave after wave of attackers. With each strike of your enemies, your resolve only grew stronger, fueled by a fierce determination to defend your home and protect your loved ones.

As the battle raged on, the air thick with the stench of smoke and the cries of the wounded, you stood amidst the chaos, a beacon of power amidst the turmoil. With a fierce determination burning in your eyes, you reached out with your mind, tapping into the primal forces of nature at your command. 

Eyes turning purple, your gaze turns narrow.

Hunger. Anger. Bitterness. Cruelty. Hatred.

You do not know what you were right at that moment.

 But one by one, you longed for more bloody hands. 

More and more until nothing was left, until nothing was there.

With a forceful command, you summoned torrents of water from nearby sources, the liquid crashing down upon the raging inferno with a deafening roar. The flames hissed and sputtered as they were doused by the relentless onslaught, steam rising into the air as the inferno was quenched.

But your control over the water was not gentle; it was a violent deluge, tearing through the flames with a ferocity that left nothing but charred remains in its wake.

Meanwhile, gusts of wind whipped through the battlefield at your command, their force amplified to hurricane-like proportions. The wind howled and shrieked as it tore through the air, sending debris and bodies hurtling through the air like ragdolls.

Your enemies were caught off guard, their movements hampered by the violent gusts that buffeted them from all sides. Limbs were torn asunder, screams of agony drowned out by the relentless roar of the wind.

The scene was gruesome, a tableau of chaos and destruction wrought by the sheer power of your manipulation. The ground beneath your feet trembled with the force of the elements, the air thick with the taste of blood and the metallic tang of fear. But amidst the carnage, you stood resolute, a force of nature in your own right, your power unchecked and untamed.

As the battle raged on, you continued to wield the elements with ruthless efficiency, your every movement a testament to the raw power at your command.

With each torrent of water and gust of wind, you pushed back against the encroaching darkness, fighting tooth and nail to defend Ryomen Manor from its relentless onslaught.

Beside you, Sukuna became a whirlwind of destruction, his every movement a lethal dance amidst the chaos of battle. With Cleave, he unleashed devastation upon the enemy ranks, each slash a precise and calculated strike that cut through flesh and bone with merciless efficiency.

The air around him seemed to crackle with the energy of his fury, his movements fluid and deadly as he carved a path of destruction through the opposing forces.

With each swing of Cleave, Sukuna left a trail of carnage in his wake, mutilated bodies falling in his shadow as he moved with unparalleled precision and ferocity. His attacks were swift and relentless, each strike finding its mark with deadly accuracy.

It was as if he was a mad man as he clubbed one man after another — as he brutalized one after another. He drowned in blood, he drowned in vengeance. He was a beast.

As the battle raged on, hand-to-hand combat merged seamlessly with the elemental onslaught, the clash of cursed energy bursts through each and every stone.

The roar of brutality, the cannibalistic nature of survival danced in vicious harmony,  in a cacophony of chaos and destruction. Amidst the din of battle, Sukuna's presence was a constant, a beacon of strength and determination amidst the turmoil.

Together, you and Sukuna fought as one, your movements synchronized as you danced upon the battlefield. With each strike and each spell, you pushed back against the encroaching darkness, your combined efforts a force to be reckoned with amidst the chaos of war.

As the chaos of battle raged around you, your uncle Hiramu finally arrived, bloodied and broken, a grim expression etched upon his weary face. He threw his broken sword, grunting as he picked up another one from a mutilated corpse. From the way he looked, it did not seem promising. The whole world had turned into madness.

“You brats shouldn’t be here anymore!” Your uncle says with a voice hoarse with exhaustion. “Everyone else has fled! You both need to go, now!”

But you objected, your resolve unwavering even in the face of adversity. "A Ryomen stands his ground, no matter what, uncle." you insisted, your voice ringing with determination. “Hida cannot fall. Not in our hands.”

Hiramu's gaze softened, a mixture of pride and sadness in his eyes as he regarded you. "And what is there left to stand for if a Ryomen is dead?" he countered, his voice tinged with resignation. "Sometimes, little girl, survival is the only victory worth fighting for."

Turning to Sukuna with eyes full of emotion. “Be a good son for once, hm? Your old father here needs you to do as he asks.” Sukuna's expression wavered, torn between loyalty to his adoptive father and his desire to protect you. “Go. Now."

“Uncle—”

After a moment of internal struggle, Sukuna took your hand, his decision made. You looked at him, your face shattered into grief at what he intended to do. 

With a heavy heart, he looked to his adoptive father “Don’t you die yet, you old geezer. I swear, if you die—”

Hiramu snickered at Sukuna's words, a bitter smile playing upon his lips. “Have trust in your father, brat. I’ll live to see my first grandchild!" he admitted, his tone laced with grim determination. He smacks his son’s head. "But for now, escape. Go! Take her! I’ll hold them off!”

As you scream for Sukuna to put you down. Over and over as you fight against him, as your throat grows weary and pained, he will not relent. Not as the sounds of battle continued to echo behind you, a cacophony of clashing steel and crackling magic filling the air. With each step, the weight of your uncle's sacrifice hung heavy upon your heart as you screamed for him. 

You caught a glimpse of Ryomen Hiramu, standing tall amidst the chaos once more. He grins at you, waving his sword. Tears fell as easily as his enemies did. His sword was all you could see through the flames, flashing in the dim light against the belly of a Fujiwara one after another. But as one fell, another came and they surrounded your uncle soon enough. Until it was all disappearing, until he was gone from your reach. Until there was nothing.

With a heavy heart, you tore your gaze away from the battlefield, focusing instead on the path ahead. Beside you, Sukuna remained silent, his hand tight around yours as you navigated the maze-like corridors of Ryomen Manor.

You thought of your father, you wondered where he was. You wondered about Masaomi, who had gone missing as the attack went through the compound. You could not fight back the tears as they came. Not even if you wanted to. 

The air around you crackled with tension as you pressed forward, each step bringing you closer to safety and yet further from the home you had always known.

Though the way ahead was uncertain, you clung to the hope that your uncle Hiramu's sacrifice had bought you—the chance to live to fight another day. Even if you didn’t want to. Even if you didn’t think to. 

As you and Sukuna finally emerged from the chaos of battle, the cool night air washed over you like a balm, a stark contrast to the heat and violence you had left behind. With one last glance back at the manor, now engulfed in flames and shadows, you and Sukuna turned away, leaving behind the echoes of a life once lived as you set out on a new path, together.

It was then from the bitter dusk did the first drops of rain begin to fall. From afar, it had cast a somber veil over the charred remnants of Ryomen Manor. The cool droplets mingled with the tears that streamed down your cheeks, their gentle patter against the scorched earth a mournful lament for all that had been lost.

Sukuna knelt beside you, his expression one of uncertainty and helplessness as he watched you wrap your weary arms around your shaking legs. He didn't know what to say, nor did he know how to dry your tears. All he could do was offer his silent presence, a steady anchor amidst the storm of emotions that threatened to engulf you both.

The rain continued to pour, harsher and harsher — a relentless downpour that mirrored the torrent of grief and sorrow that threatened to consume you. With each passing moment, Sukuna felt the weight of your pain pressing down upon him, a burden he couldn't bear but refused to abandon.

In that eve of the year 953, in Hida Province,

The proud Ryomen Clan of old, ancient blood;

Had all but fallen to the hands of Fujiwara's cruelty.

Of the Ryomen’s main bloodline remained two.

Husband and wife, Ryomen Hiromi and Sukuna.

facts about this chapter

this was entirely a chapter i saw from the beginning happening. the destruction of the ryomen is something i believe is the reason sukuna is the only ryomen we know.

this chapter took me the longest to write than any other of the series thus far. this was also the most emotionally taxing to write. so i had to come back and write some fluff and then drink matcha to calm down.

hiromi and sukuna's marriage was a last minute addition after my beta reading friend suggested that the idea of their marriage have consequence. but since it was never announce, only the ryomen know.

the fujiwara planned that they were going to destroy the ryomen the moment sukuna defeated koku. they think that koku being humiliated was the whole clan being humiliated. moreover, there's bitterness with the 'lowly' marriage of fujiwara akiko. this was a correction to the fujiwara.

masaomi is just the same age as koku, akimu and suzaku. masaomi was akimu's childhood playmate. and by extention, hiromi's own playmate. upon the death of akimu, hiromi became the focus his loyalty. hiromi considers him a friend.

heian culture doesn't really have a strict conduct of marriage, except in the in the nature of the noble's blood. if the marriage was ever announced, people would view hiromi to have married down even if sukuna took the ryomen name. because hiromi has noble blood and sukuna does not.

isamu and hiramu already knew that hiromi and sukuna would end up getting together because they knew too well that they were too in love to let go of each other. they already had contingency plans, if that happened. they knew that the kids being happy mattered more.

akiko is obsessed with power. and it was her end. i always wondered what i could do with her and her wanting. but its quite easy to see too that she's a victim of her family's own culture. if she had broken free from that, she would have ended up not dying.

hiromi's power introduced here is called 'heaven's bounty' which allows hiromi control of the surrounding and nature itself for a limited amount of time. she combines this with hand to hand because she doesn't know how long her cursed energy could last.

hiramu doesn't have that strong of a cursed energy, but he makes up for it with his strength. which has been noted since 'the night we met' when they first met sukuna.

fujiwara ankoku in a way is inspired by zenin naobito but worse. he'd commit to the destruction of his own family. blood and innocents to have satisfaction and revenge. i think he'd get even worse with time passing by.

with ryomen manor burned to the ground, the whole of hida is under occupation by the fujiwara. hiromi and sukuna are wanted alive by the fujiwara, the rest of the ryomen and their retainers have bounty in their heads, but to death

the ryomen family tree looks like this

lord ryomen - his wife

|

isamu hiramu

m. | (adoptive)

akiko sukuna

|

akimu hiromi

the fujiwara family goes like this

fujiwara ankoku - his wife

|

lord fujiwara akiko

| |

koku akimu hiromi (married) sukuna

[candycorncremator]

Unfortunately lower visual quality than I wanted be because Tumblr only allows 10 images so I smushed them into three canvases instead of two post. Anyway beta trolls Headcanon and some thoughts below the cut.

Aradia

Aradia is the design I probably have the most experience drawing of the beta trolls purely because of how many zines I’ve drawn her in the last year. I like thinking of her hair similar to Pinkie Pies’ in g4 of mlp, where it’s very curly bouncy in her alive and godtiered forms but straightens out more when she’s ghosting up the place and in Aradia-bot form. I didn’t realize until a recent zine I had been drawing her horns ways too low for comic accuracy but I am a creature of habit so I keep drawing them like that.

Tavros

I’ve grown to love this kid because of my recent reread but I do not like drawing them. Between the Mohawk and the long, straight horns, I don’t care to draw their most important traits so he unfortunately only gets drawn in these group drawings. As for the one ear being pierced, it’s kinda a reference to cow tags but also I think it just fits them.

Sollux

Sollux a pretty easy character to design. I just have to imagine a greasy nerd kid growing up too fast for him to put on weight, add his troll bits and voila. The snake bites are definitely a hold over from the humanstuck I made for him last year but I think it just kinda add to his whole vibe. The undershirt comes from someone who also sits in a hot-ass room most of my days and will wears a second layer so leaving the room won’t feel like stepping out into a frozen wasteland.

Karkat

Karkat for me has always been short and stout guy. Other than that most of his facial features are taken from me, being someone who also over exaggerates their faces and nearly always is squinting a little.

Nepeta

Between all my designs of Nepeta the only thing that ever changes with any consistency is her hair. Like giving her cleft lip scar because I gave it to my fan-descendent of her and it’s cute.

Kanaya

Like two months ago I saw a post on here saying give that girl a nose (in reference to Kanaya) and it was the single most true HC I have ever seen. I also like completely throw out any references I have of her when I draw her hair because I think she should have 1930’s waves and curls. I typically only have to draw the super simple eyes so the only thing I had to change was giving her actual eyes.

Terezi

Got pretty comic accurate but probably would erase some of the chin to imply she’s fat a little better if I wasn’t doing this more rigid style.

Vriska

Also pretty comic accurate with the exception of the snake bites which is probably because I don’t draw her a lot and I don’t think about her much enough looks wise to have any specific head canons.

Equius

Goodness his hair gave me a struggle, kept on looking like a balding metal head until I added the pushed back stuff. Also returned back to drawing pseudo animal ears by giving him horse ears only angle to better fit a humanoid head.

Gamzee

I hate their make-up but every thing else about drawing them is a dream; goat ears, not straight hair, simple horns, silly little guy. What more could I ask for.

Eridan

And I’m almost done but unfortunately this doofus is next and requires the most detailed bust even in canon. Due to drawing them in this year’s 413 countdown I know how I like styling their hair and fins so I basically just chop the hair up since this is suppose to be during comic hcs and then follow their canon and Pesterquest designs with a few added features and boom. I was drawing everyone with the dark grey lips but I forgot for Eridan so I’ll just say they use concealer on their lips.

Feferi

Yippee! Back to ignoring canon and just giving her the biggest eyes on account of her glasses and cute piercings. I originally based her fins off of lion fish fins but they’re definitely more based off of betta ventral fin now.

[purplespacekitty]

just wanna formally apologize to anyone i've been INTENSE about Riverdale to. not because i love Riverdale. because Jughead Jones is canonically touch-averse and aroace and i will never, EVER, evereverevereverever forgive Riverdale for willfully ignoring that.

also, they barely showed our boy with any burgers or fries or milkshakes or gummy worms or any kind of food throughout the whole show. a travesty. dude held a PC controller maybe once. and uh, i don't think they ever had him playing his drum set. ...they tried to do the whole music thing, but The Archies never happened on Riverdale. could have been a great way to keep Josie and the Pussycats in the picture as crossovers between the two comic lines (and additionally, with Sabrina The Teenage Witch) have commonly been used to keep stories going, but it just dissolved before it could even start. anyway, Jughead Jones was born to eat burgers, dispense witty remarks on his friends’ social drama, wage prank wars and play drums, it's literally his destiny (and so is being Archie's best bud).

and like.

here's the thing.

i know, i know, i know that Riverdale isn't the Archie Comics. it's "edgy" or whatever. but like, have you ever read the Archie Comics?????? there are hundreds of storylines more edgy than Riverdale's and in (probably) every single one of them, Jughead eats more net burgers than he eats in all 7 seasons of Riverdale. he has his little angsty plots and crazy nonsensical adventures and is never as deprived of food and games as he is in Riverdale.

he's been this way since 1939, when the Archie Comics first came about. granted, video games didn't exist then, but his whole deal has always been eating burgers and being Archie's best pal. he's a breath of fresh air, a glass of cold water to the face for Archie and the gang to snap them out of their various problems (mostly love- and dating-related, but sometimes friendship- or science or general-good-time-adventure-related). he is often the voice of reason, which is why Riverdale!Jughead doesn't really work. original Jughead has a unique perspective, being primarily preoccupied with food and video games and avoiding all potentially romantic/sexual situations that might involve him: he can observe everything without getting (too) mixed up in all of it. and the more wisdom he imparts to his friends; the more jokes and witty comments he concocts during a given meet-up at Pop's; the more he goofs off and plays pranks on his friends and enemies, the more secure their collective friendship is. and he's perfectly happy with the state of things. he doesn't yearn for romance or sex, all he truly yearns for is a day spent eating burgers with his friends. as long as he has a snack readily available, he's happy to be alone or on an adventure. his natural state is in solitude, which is a state he sometimes has to seek out, but he never has to go far in any quest for company. it's exactly where he wants to be. he would rather eat his cake and eat it, too. Riverdale!Jughead inserts himself into the chaos, which original Jughead would rather play a game of football against Reggie than willfully do.

i think Riverdale tried to play into Jughead's comfortability with and preference for his general nonconformism with that whole "i’m a weirdo" speech, but ultimately failed because in the end, they still had him conforming to norms the original Jughead scoffs at. and Bughead, as the literal 85 years of Archie Comics and 7 seasons of Riverdale (in which Bughead basically become kinda-sorta-maybe-almost-pseudo step-siblings??? idk the whole thing between FP and Alice just makes it too weird for me) clearly demonstrate, added nothing to either Jughead’s or Betty’s characters and only contributed to the erasure of one of the longest running aroace characters there is. when the comics did try to give Jughead love interests, it was either extremely out of character, played for laughs as a way to shame him for not being interested in romance or just simply…didn’t work. usually some combination of all of the above. because Jughead is fundamentally aroace and has no desire to be with anyone in a romantic or sexual way. plus it kinda messes up the whole premise of the Archie Comics? teenage boy can’t choose between best friends Girl Next Door and Uptown Girl, who both care for him and each other equally, so he dates them both? it would have been way more refreshing to see them explore the complex open/polyamorous relationship that Archie, Betty and Veronica have been negotiating for 85 years through a more queer and empathetic lens than what Riverdale actually turned out to be. maybe they wouldn’t have erased Jughead’s queerness or sidelined other canonically queer characters (i.e. Kevin, Toni, Fangs, etc.) if they’d taken that route. it would be cool to see a plot within the Archie universe constructively centering queerness as a main element of its characters as storyline.

Riverdale refused to keep the most essential parts of the original Jughead's character: aversion to physical touch, romance and sex, an aggressive adoration for burgers, rhythm and musicality and his ability to separate himself from tense situations in order to problem-solve. what the other characters often sneer at or find frustrating about him are actually the things that solidify his importance in their lives. he balances them out. and there are moments when his friends recognize and celebrate that. and him being this essential, inextricable part of an iconic friend group in the comics is an extremely heartwarming thing to see as an arospec/acespec person, myself.

this was supposed to be an apology, wasn't it...oops? sorry?

Riverdale just kinda missed the whole point of Jughead Jones. and i WILL be salty about it forever.

[owladaptive]

Headcanons of your latest art, plz

The cool and funny thing about the addams au is that ducks don't need to change their core personalities in the slightest in order to fit. They're all just kinda Like That already.

They're just Like That already!!

They already get up to wacky, dangerous shenanigans. And other people not in the family look at it and go "that's a whole lotta weird". Individually, none of them are exactly normal.

All you really need to do to addamsify them is to take the most out of the ordinary aspects of each of their personalities and dial the notch up about..... 60 degrees.

Below are ramblings about their characters. Enjoy.

Scrooge is of course the patriarch of the family, an adventure capitalist and the richest duck in the world who loves dancing with danger. He's basically the most unchanged out of them all. But this Scrooge is... twisted. He covets the thrill of almost dying with the same fervor he covets gold. And he proudly, nay lovingly, exposes his kids to anything that brings them near the glory of death with reverence. The "other bin" is a personal museum of deadly monsters, fatal curses and dead things that he proudly lets his beloved family (and hapless guests) admire at their leisure. And he's always delighted to teach his kids anything they want to know. How to swordfight? Of course m'dear child, anything you ask. Here's the correct way you load gunpowder into a musket. Here's a fun way to give your wind-up clock bomb a little extra oomph. Want a turn in the iron maiden?

Bentina was a whole different kind of spy. I mean she was an assassin. In fact she was hired to string up Scrooge when they first met, instead he bought her off and had her dispose of her original contractor. They became friends of course, Scrooge admiring her line of work and Beakley begrudgingly respecting the sheer outrageousness of his admiration. And since coming back to his house to raise Webby (his family-oriented nature wore her cold exterior down over time until she caught the love bug) she vibes as his pseudo-sister once more.

Yeah Duckworth is still a ghost. He's been there since he died in his sleep and the whole family got together to drag his fading soul from the river styx and shove him back into the physical plain. (They worship the escape of death, that doesn't mean they want to be separated!) He doesn't say much. They love him still.

Webby is literally the same character. Only of course, her already-warped perspective on life after growing up in the shadow of Scrooge McDuck is warped all the more. To Webby, fighting, grappling, shooting arrows, firing (real) guns and stalking your friends through the shadows of night to scare the light from their eyes for a second isn't just super fun.... it's affection!! She's a creature of the night. She'll give her family so many hugs. She'll watch her loved ones while they sleep. She'll strangle them until they pass out (affectionate), she'll protect them from anything. She's everything the rest of the world is just ken.

Della is presumed dead, and nobody is particularly mad about it. This is a family that walks closely with death, after all, so while their love for each other is so strong that even a decade after she was gone they still mourn her, they would never cut her memory from their lives. Her portraits hang everywhere, her room kept immaculately covered in dust and cobwebs just the way she'd want it to be. They bring her up in conversations as though she'd just gone out to buy milk or something. And every single year, on the anniversary of her death, they hold a seance to attempt to summon her back (They already tried the thing they did with Duckworth). It never works, and Scrooge and Donald hug and cry and reminisce together and then life goes back to normal.

Donald is a faithful, doting and affectionate dad to his nephews and has told them stories of their mother since they were hatched. He loved his sister so very much, but unlike canon never blamed Scrooge for her death. Yes, she likely died in space, her spacesuit smashed open and her body freeze dried in the soul-sucking endless darkness all because Scrooge lovingly gifted her something that would put her life at risk. But she's only dead!! Nothing to estrange yourself from your family over. Donald and Scrooge are instead brought closer through shared loss. Donald in this universe is still a sailor, and is entranced by the glory of the deathly, stormy seas and all the creepy, slimy creatures within it. His anger is surprisingly mostly tamed by way of catharsis (fishing and killing the fish and cooking the fish with far too much axe chopping and knife brandishing than needed). That doesn't mean he won't lose it if someone insults his kids, his uncle or his dead sister.

Huey is a sweet, smart, helpful boy with a penchant for biting that's followed him since he first grew teeth and a rage-filled alter ego that's switched on a hair-thin trigger. When he's not flying into a mad frenzy like a gremlin ("you've got such a healthy temper dear boy, make sure to sharpen your teeth before bed now!") he's deconstructing anything he can get his hands on and building them back better and more explosive. Don't be alarmed by his muzzle - his brothers sometimes force it on him when they get tired of his biting (it makes for an unfair fight) and sometimes they kindly ask if he wants them to put it on for him when they notice he's being a little nonverbal or cranky. He loves them a lot and gives them lots of hugs.

Dewey is a melodramatic little weirdo who recites poetry and Shakespeare, adores making a spectacle of himself and hates being one of a set of three. Quite like his canon self! Unlike his canon self, he copes with feelings of resentment and middle child syndrome by way of bloodlust. It's all in good fun, of course. What child doesn't try to smother their siblings in their sleep now and then? Why, back when Scrooge was a lad, his sisters once dangled him in the path of a speeding train while he was sleeping! When his murderous urges take a backseat and he gives the booby traps a rest, Dewey's a fun-loving kid who would go to much more extreme measures to get take vicious revenge on anyone who would make any three of his siblings cry. His dream is to die suffocating in a vacuum like his mother did.

Louie, having grown up in the mansion instead of a houseboat, is no stranger to the wonders of luxury. Luckily for him, the Scrooge of this universe is wrapped around the collective pinky finger of his wee ones, and is much more doting than canon. Also luckily for Louie is that McDuck manor is built on an expansive graveyard where he can look for jewellery, trinkets and gold fillings to his greedy heart's content. When he runs out of graves at the mansion (he always buries them back, don't worry) there are always other graveyards in town. And other towns, too. And true, Louie's been dragged back home by the police every now and then, so he's had to get sneaky about his thrifting ways. He can pickpocket like a pro, filching off anybody who isn't Scrooge (who would always notice) and snatching any shiny thing that isn't nailed down and can fit in his pocket when he's out of the house. He's sneaky alright, but also sensitive. Don't touch his stuff or he'll stab you. "did the little dragon add anything to his hoard today?"

[alaynestone]

You don’t have to post this if you don’t want. I just wanted to say I was one of those curious, openminded fans willing to entertain the idea of samjohn (mostly bc deanjohn feels so congruent with canon + there’s so much interesting meta on it that managed to convert me + incestuous households usually affect all of it’s members) but just like you said I was immediately put off by the blatant character assassination that pervades everything from fics to edits to the propaganda in that incest poll lmao.

I guess that’s the major difference - deanjohn requires little to no stretching of imagination bc it already fits seamlessly into canon, whereas samjohn almost demands ooc shenanigans to work.

I also just found the way fans talk about it nauseating for some reason, though that’s likely more of a reflection of my own personal triggers. I love digesting incest narratives, but the fetishistic angle of that blog really makes my stomach turn. That’s not a moral judgement on anyone else’s enjoyment btw! Just another reason why this ship didn’t resonate with me.

thank you for sending me this. it's clear that a lot of people feel the same way.

when i first joined fandom, the few j/s fics were straightforward evil!john non-con. not my thing, but i understood why it was written that way. then came the inexplicably popular fandom creation of "sexkitten sam" which continues to pollute the entire sam/dean fandom and of course extends to other ships too. i'm not even gonna get started on why that's "problematic" because that's not the point, it's not remotely in character. even as an exaggeration sam is not the kind of person to attempt to find agency in outward submission or objectification. he's very vocally not compromising his identity to please his family and especially john. dean is more like that so when you have sam acting like a fetishized pinterest aesthetic moodboard version of dean and dean acting like an old man from wattpad i'm understandably left squinting at the screen. then it's genderswapping sam and using that as a personality eraser because women are automatically submissive and naive and trad?

who is being converted by all this when it has nothing to do with sam, john or even dean? where is dean in all this actually? a core aspect of their family is that dean is closest to both sam and john who rarely had much opportunity to bond without him. there was a distance between sam and john throughout sam's childhood and adolescence. most of his parental needs were being fulfilled by dean even if that was never enough. their situation with their father wasn't the average one where they were simply 2 kids fighting for his attention.

for the most part j/s appears to be about "envying" dean's position in the family. it's about diminishing or straight up erasing dean and more notably about feminizing sam. either directly or otherwise. people generally seem to have big issues with the fact that sam is a man and confidently so. most of the annoying tropes in wincest fandom have this at their core. and of course in order for sam to be "the woman" dean needs to genuinely and authentically be the most stereotypical of cishet men. it's very transparent because right from the start the show poked holes at dean's performance of masculinity. it was very much the point. dean's gender issues could fill a book yet any alternative interpretation of sam and gender seeks to cast dean as the oppressive bigot who would never get it? stopping here before i get off topic but to make myself clear: in theory i respect headcanons i don't understand, but not when they spitefully exist to deny dean's depth in every possible way.

to return to my point about dean's pseudo spouse and mother position being enviable, it misses the point of how harmful john's parenting was to both of them. it's no coincidence that they both view themselves as the unfavorite. dean believes he's taken for granted, only valued for what he can give, how well he can perform his roles, how successfully he could play at being an adult even before he hit double digits. dean can't just exist and be himself while sam is uncompromisingly himself. because of that he believes john doesn't like him, never liked him, rejected him, didn't have time for him, didn't trust him enough with the family secrets, even when those secrets directly concerned him. as of season 1 he still has contempt for dean for what he views as unquestioning obedience to john and letting himself be molded by john. dean had to fight for every scrap of approval and affection and sam refused to do the same if it meant sacrificing his own needs and identity. not everyone reacts to abuse the same way and both characters are very much shaped by their different reactions to their environment. and any j/s shipper argument that is built on the idea that sam was the one john loved more is not only gleefully mocking dean's parentification but ignoring that sam being comparatively sheltered and treated like a son is yet another reason why john would not cross such a line with him. dean "gets it", dean lost mary too, dean is his partner and his confidant, dean can handle adult responsibilities, dean is loving and supportive, dean isn't making him confront his parenting failures, dean can't say no to him. like you said, it doesn't at all stretch the imagination to make j/d fit into dean's backstory. "you are not a child" - "i never was".

as i have been saying, any remotely ic exploration of j/s would have to follow both j/d and s/d. i can't believe in a universe where j/s is the only incest that happens in the family. i think a theoretical plausible j/s fic would have to not only accept but embrace its adjacency to the 2 ships that are compliant with the canon. but whether sam knows for a fact about j/d or not, there's no way he isn't severely impacted by the proximity to that relationship in a number of ways and that's a very compelling dynamic in its own right.

tldr i agree with you anon. people can read and write whatever they want but there's a big difference between incest subtext that is believable and just saying things in a way that's meant to provoke.

[trainingdummyrabbit]

society if we actually finally got mad rat dead 2 and/or DLC

WOE . YOUVE ACTIVATED MY HYPERFIXATION TRAP CARD.

first of all: real and true. its been several years and th madrat plushie still isnt finished being plushie'd iirc. its so funny. second of all: i have Opinions about this topic ok listen ok ok. im going to get a Little annoying abt it. apawlogies.

(so um, obviously, mrd spoilers. im being serious youshould play mrd if you havent already i love it dearly ok. thankyou.)

ilove this funny little game so much and id love to see it mentioned and appreciated more than it is with all of my heart. that being said; we do Not need a sequel. honestly, the dlc route i think would fit much better-- something id personally love to see. because again; the whole Coming To Terms With Death thing. mad rats arc revolves around that! getting to live the way he wants to; leaving his mark in a way he feels satisfied with-- thats the whole Thing. not only this, but heart and rat god's characters revolve around it too-- albeit in a different way.

what im saying is that a lot of the time, whenever ive seen discussion of a theoretical sequel, its always just kinda putting everyone back and everyone lives and thats kind of.. it. its hard to make a sequel to a game like this without kinda intrinsically doing that. but that also completely goes against what the story stands for as a whole. the whole mousewheel metaphor, yknow? it feels like itd kinda render everything mad rat and heart did kind of meaningless. like itd remove a lot of the weight of what the story presents.

what i personally think would really work, in terms of extra story, is something more akin to inter-story expansions. details where there werent things before; stages in between what we see in canon. because there's a Lot of things that simply remain unsaid (which i WONT infodump about here itll be an all day thing; what ill say is that this isnt a strictly negative thing) and being able to extrapolate a bit more on heart's-- and especially rat god's-- characters would be a Really fantastic option. heart, as a lead, gets a lot of introspection and screentime, but he also inherently revolves around whatever mad rat chooses to do. its hard to imagine he doesnt have things he doesn't-- or wouldn't-- express. (i think about how willing he was to die with mad rat; how he immediately followed along with him, supported him. what does this say about heart? who He was before all this? how he was before all this?)

and obviously . rat god. all i have to do is point to If We Could Be Friends. it speaks absolute Volumes about who she is and how she functions Despite her role in the story and how she presents herself. between that and everything at the end of Mad Rat Die, there is so much she simply doesnt express of herself. because she doesnt have to. she's Never had to. so to suddenly have to grapple with what you stand for being (successfully!!!) challenged like that-- listen. she has some Serious traits left unexplained, unspoken. as she is in-canon is genuinely fantastic, if horribly tragic by nature. but getting to see just the Smallest bit more of that attitude shine through with a theoretical expansion would kill.

i love how quiet all that is. it fits her. but to add a bit more definition would be Really great. i want to know how everyone would potentially grapple with that-- how she would grapple with that. what i most strongly imagine is a pseudo-noncanon almost dreamsequence type thing-- things still end the way they do, but it serves to simply allow them to be honest with each other, who they are, and really let them settle what fate chose to do with them. maybe they will meet again, in heaven, in hell.

also im tired of people acting like she has no character other than "wants to kill you" and "hashtag girlboss" me when i fuckig get y

[maxineswritingcenter]

'Awstengyem - Jake Sully x Na'vi!OC x Neytiri

A Na'vi woman raised by the humans, a human who became Na'vi, and a Na'vi warrior. It sounds like the beginning of an interesting story. After being orphaned as an infant, and raised by the scientists at Central Command, she must help Jake Sully connect with the Omatikaya clan, while also making her own journey of self discovery. Plus, everyone is hot. I don't make the rules.

One person liked my post and now you all are going to see it. I have never done such an intense deep dive into into a fandom because... My God... There are so many details that are so central to one's identity as a Na'vi. So, just know that I always do my research to get the most canon-like stories out possible because it's what you deserve. Yes, this is another OC story, but it was that or adding (Y/N) and that just... seems wrong.

---

Origin stories always seemed to get a little fuzzy, it helped if you knew your own history and not what was taught to you by a second hand source. But her mother told her that she was a child orphaned by a fatal altercation between RDA soldiers and a lone band of the Olangi clan. She was all that was left, a three foot tall infant. They had almost left her to the viperwolves. But, the woman she called mother, Dr. Grace Augustine, urged them to spare the child. That she could important to human-Na'vi relations.

Lotta good that did.

The only Na'vi thing about her was her name:

Rey te Tawtute Kìreysì'ite.

Live of the Sky Person, Daughter of Grace. She couldn't figure out if Grace named her Rey because of its meaning, or because it would be easy for non-speakers to pronounce.

After learning that the sky people had corrupted a child of their clan, they refused to even look at her. And none of the neighboring clans wanted anything to do with her either.

None of that ever really bothered her though. Rey learned to speak Na'vi from her mother, learned about the flora and fauna of Pandora. She shared the love and fascination of every individual creature that lived. She knew of Ewya, but had never experienced the great mother a part from the moment after her birth, where communication with Ewya was a sacred practice. Now Rey couldn't get anywhere near the great spirit tree without getting shot at with arrows laced with poison that would stop her heart before she could bleed out.

Now here she was, watching the as new Avatar pilots exited the helicarrier that brought them to Central Command from the window of the lab. Soon enough, two scientists would be sleep walking in genetically altered Na'vi bodies that were grown from a petri dish and stuck in a pseudo-womb for a couple years.

"New recruits get here yet?" Max looked out the window.

"Yeah." Rey sighed, taking a breath of out her air mask that hung around her neck, "Can't wait for them to gawk at me." The oxygenated lab was fine for breathing comfortably, if it didn't make her a little light headed after a while. Her mother had created a blend that worked similarly to the masks the humans wore outside of the lab except this mask brought Pandora's atmosphere to her allowing her to be inside longer. Most of the scientists didn't care for her presence in the lab besides Dr. Max Patel and her mother.

"Well, that one." He pointed to the man who looked around the world with child-like wonder, "That's doctor Norm Spellman, he's a anthropologist, xenolinguist and xenobotanist."

"Goodie." She looked closer, "What about that one. The one in the..." It appeared to be a chair... with wheels on it.

"Wheelchair." He supplied the word.

Rey shrugged, taking another breath from her mask, "Yeah, that."

"That's Jake Sully."

"I thought his name was Tom. That's what it says on chamber two." She stood up from her hunched position, nearly hitting her head on the ceiling.

"Doctor Tom Sully was supposed to be the pilot for chamber two, but her died suddenly. So they brought his twin brother, Jake."

"Mom's gonna be pissed."

"Oh trust me, that ship has sailed." He patted her arm, walking away from her. She watched the human in the wheelchair, he wasn't looking around with his mouth wide open like doctor Spellman, he seemed to be seeing everything with fresh eyes.

He was interesting. Hopefully, he didn't die.

-

Rey sat in the bio-lab, looking over Tom Sully's avatar, well... Jake Sully's avatar. He seemed pretty handsome as far as Na'vi standards. There were features that would make him stand out against the others. Avatars, having been genetically matched to their drivers, had human DNA. So these Na'vi look-alikes had eyebrows and one extra finger and toe on each hand and foot. She touched her fingertips against the glass, watching the avatar jerk and twitch. It was a living thing, yet an empty shell. In a few hours, they would be decanted. Which was just a fancy word for birthing them from the machine that grew them. She was kind of excited to meet them.

Walking into the link room, Rey got a few annoyed looks from the newer scientists, but the older ones, ones that had known her for practically her entire life, smiled and waved. Leaning, against the wall, she crossed her arms and waited. Waited for her mother's face when she saw Jake Sully.

"They're comin' out!" One tech called. The PA system announced that that the current drivers were coming out of link.

"Oh god." Grace sighed as she got out of the chamber, her red hair shining in the lights. "Who's got my goddamn cigarette?" She was already grumpy. "Guys, what's wrong with this picture?" She held up her empty hand, promptly filled with a cigarette and lighter by a technician whom she thanked.

"You gotta stop smoking, mom, it's bad for your teeny tiny lungs." She pushed off the wall and walked towards her. Her bare feet padded against the grates of the lab.

"I'll stop smoking when you start wearing shoes in the lab." She said around a puff of tobacco.

"You're the one who told me I needed to start acting like a Na'vi, Na'vi don't wear shoes." Grace smirked up at her, batting away her blue tail as she attempted to flick her with it, smiling as she laughed.

"Grace Augustine is a legend." The lab doors hissed as the avatar drivers entered, escorted by Max. "She's the head of the Avatar Program. She wrote the book. I mean, literally wrote the book on Pandoran botany."

"Well, that's because she likes plants better than people." Max chimed in. "Here she is, Cinderella herself back from the ball. Grace, I'd like you to meet Norm Spellman and Jake Sully."

Grace's smile fell from her face, shrugged on her lab coat and sliding on her glasses from the coat pocket. She took a long drag from her cigarette and looked over them. Norm seemed bright eyed and bushy tailed, and he couldn't seem to figure out who he wanted to look at Grace or her.

"Norm. I hear good things about you. How's your Na'vi?" She asked.

"May the All Mother... Smile upon our first meeting." He spoke in fluent Na'vi, even adding in the 'I see you" gesture for good measure.

Kiss ass.

"Not bad. You sound a little formal." Grace replied back.

Norm chuckled, "I studied for five years... But there is much to learn."

Grace looked up at her. "Introduce yourself."

She could almost see Norm bracing himself for her to speak, like he was preparing to translate every word she would say so he could come up with a reply.

"How's it goin'?" She smirked, holding her hand out, "Call me Rey."

"Oh." He let out another nervous chuckle and reached up to shake her hand, "You speak English. N-not that I didn't think you wouldn't be able to." She shared a glance with Grace as she pulled her hand away.

"Grace? This is Jake Sully." Max brought her attention back to the other avatar driver.

"Ma'am." He held his hand out for her to shake.

"Yeah, yeah, I know who you are, and I don't need you. I need your brother. You know, the PhD who trained for three years for this mission?" Rey subtly flicked Grace's leg with her tail.

"He's dead." He said with no emotion, his arm had gone down to his lap. "I know it's a big inconvenience for everyone."

"How much lab training have you had?" Grace asked.

"I dissected a frog once." He replied.

What the hell was a frog?

"You see?" Grace looked to Max, "You see? I mean, they're just pissing on us without even the courtesy of calling it rain. I'm going to Selfridge." Grace began storming out of the lab.

Max followed, "No, Grace, I don't think that's a good idea."

"No, man, this is such bullshit!" Her boots stomped against the metal floor, "I'm gonna kick his corporate butt. He has no business sticking his nose in my department."

Max walked back to Jake, "Here tomorrow, oh-eight-hundred. Try and use big words."

"I think that went well, considering." Rey held out her hand for him to shake, "Nice to meet you, Jake."

"Rey." He nodded to her and shook her hand, glancing at her digits for just a moment.

She pulled her hand away, "Don't take it personally, those corporate assholes will do anything to see the native population as nothing but trees to be cut down. She's just really passionate about getting passionate people."

Jake sighed through his nose, "I really don't know a lot about this place. But Tommy did, and I think I owe it to him to stick it out."

She gave him a kind smile, ears perking up, "Good to know. And you never know, Pandora might grow on you." She winked and made her way out of the lab. He followed behind her, though, keeping up with the pace of her long legs. She had to lean down in the lab, it killed her back but she was used to it.

"So, uh, you an Avatar Driver?"

"Nope." She smiled down at him, wiggling her four fingers, "I'm the real deal."

"What's your story?" He asked and followed it up with a hasty: "If you don't mind me asking?"

"I don't. Most people don't ask." She took a breath from her mask, "Those trigger happy assholes opened fire on a nomad clan, I was the only survivor. Grace adopted me as her own."

"So, she's your mom."

Rey smiled, "Best mom in the world. It's really touching when the biggest bitch to some people is the most caring person you know. It makes you feel special." She nudged his shoulder, "And don't worry about Grace, you'll grow on her, I can already tell."

They traveled on for a while before she looked down again, "What about you? What's your story?"

"Uh, I'm a marine vet. I got paralyzed from the waist down in one of the many wars happening on Earth. Couldn't afford to fix it. Then... Then Tommy died. And now I'm here."

A hum echoed around them in the now empty hallway. She had led him all the way to his room without him asking for directions.

"Look, I know you probably feel out of your element here. I know I do. If you ever want to talk or just get away from it all. Let me know, I got a little place just outside the tree line. Whether you're in the Avatar body or this one."

Jake gave her a kind and genuine smile, a small one, but a smile nonetheless. He gave her a nod of thanks and opened his door by typing in the code to unlock the door.

"I might take you up on that, Rey."

"Hey, by the way..." He turned back to look at her, "What's a frog?"

-

The next morning, everything was in a rush. Rey watched as the team decanted the avatar bodies, moved them to observation, then came to the link room to send Norm and Jake off.

"So, how much link time have you logged?" Grace asked Norm, speed walking to her chamber. She noticed her mother always seemed to rush to her bed, like she couldn't spend one minute longer in her human form. When she was a little girl, she told Rey the reason was that Grace could actually pick her up and hug her in her avatar body when her human body couldn't. Her running theory was because Grace loved Pandora and every living thing on it, and being human reminded her too much of where she came from.

"About five hundred and twenty hours." Norm said, walking beside her. Jake and Rey followed behind.

"You're there." Grace pointed, "You're here."

"How much have you logged?" Grace asked the marine, pressing buttons on the pod's screen.

"Zip. But I read a manual."

She turned to look at Jake slowly, "Tell me you're joking." She watched Jake poke into the gel that would hold his body in place, a grin on his face.

"This is cool." He said, then used his strong arms to move himself into his bed, swinging his legs into the correct position. Grace attempted to help him with his, but he shook his head.

"Don't. I got this." He said. His legs swung like they were dead weight. She wondered what kind of accident had done this to him.

Grace's sigh brought her attention from his arms, "So you just figured you'd come out here, to the most hostile environment known to man, with no training of any kind, and see how it went? What was going through your head?"

Jake smirked, "Maybe I was sick of doctors telling me what I couldn't do." Grace just gave him a look before pressing on his chest to lay him back.

"Keep your hands in, arms in." She reached to move the chest plate over his body, "Head down." She pressed his head against the gel frame as he tried to look around. He tried to look again.

"Down. Just relax and let your mind go blank. That shouldn't be hard for you."

"See you on the other side." Rey gave him a small wave.

"Kiss the darkest part of my lily white-" Jake's words were cut off my the chamber closing, a hissing sound meaning it was locked tight.

"I like him." Rey said.

"Initiate link." Grace called, then looked up at her, "Good, then when he gets killed, you can host his funeral. Now head outside." She walked towards her pod. She shrugged, walking out of the link room and towards the doors that led to the outside.

-

Grace was the first to meet her after the Link had completed. She wore her usual outfit, a cropped tank top that read Stanford and shorts. Her mother's avatar always made her smile. As much as she loved Grace, human or Na'vi, there was just something so special about having a connection with someone who looked like her. She especially loved her hair, the two small braids that framed either side of her face were Rey's handiwork, even the multicolored beads.

"Oh look at me." Grace moved her head from side to side, looking in the mirror in the avatar lodge, "So pretty." She smiled down at the Na'vi child.

"Thank you so much, yawntutsyìp!" She picked Rey up in her arms, cuddling the giggling child close.

Those were the good old days.

"Is that a new skirt?" Her mother asked, pulling at the forest green skirt around her waist.

Smiling, she nodded, "Made it myself out of some old curtains laying around." She definitely didn't steal the curtains. Definitely. And she definitely didn't dye the curtains a green color and adorn it with beads.

"It's cute." She complimented. "Not very good for hunting, but it's cute."

"I don't think the fkio I hunt are really caring what I wear." Before Grace could reply, commotion came from the main compound.

"Jake! We're not supposed to be running!" Their ears perked up at the sound of Norm's concerned call. What they witnessed was Jake Sully, running. Actually running. For the first time in years. Rey couldn't imagine what it felt like, to be given something you had lost long ago. She grinned as he laughed, pushing his legs further.

"Don't get attached, Rey." Her mother nudged her, a hint of a smile on her face.

'Too late.' She thought to herself. The two of them walking towards him.

"Hey marine." Grace called. He seemed to look them both up and down.

"Grace?" He asked with a smile of disbelief.

"Well, who'd you expect, numbnuts?" She grabbed a spartan fruit from the orchard that Jake had stopped in, throwing it to him, "Think fast." He caught the fruit and inspected it.

"Motor control's looking good." Grace smiled. She knew that he would grow on her.

Jake took a large bite out of the spartan fruit, the juice leaking down his chin. He stared at them in amazement, letting out a noise that told them that it was good.

"Rey, why don't you show him around. Maybe find something for him to wear." Grace said, walking past him. Jake suddenly became aware that the back of his hospital gown was wide open.

"Oh, uh." He used one hand, reaching behind him to close the gown. But he release it suddenly when he felt his tail touch his hand. He turned around in a circle, attempting to get a glimpse at his new appendage. Rey giggled at him, grabbing his arm and tugging him towards the lodge.

"Come on, sngä’iyu."

After finding some clothes for him to wear, see shows him around the Avatar Plaza as she called it. There were plenty of options for exercise, some obstacle courses for the RDA Avatars. She showed him the different crops they grew and their Na'vi names. He seemed to be taking in some of the information, but his eyes mostly remained on her.

"So..." She nudged him as they walked side by side, "What's it like?"

He shook his head, grinning widely, sharp canines framing his smile, "It's... Incredible. It feels like every breath I take is a blessing and..." He chuckled, "Hell, I can walk. I can run. Jump. Come on, you say jump, I say how high, ya know." He playfully jogged in a circle around her backwards.

"Careful." She brought him back to her side, "Last thing we need is for you to trip in your fancy smancy body."

"Yeah, yeah." He grinned, looking down at her slightly. He could have never imagined looking at Rey from this angle. Even though she was alien, Rey was just familiar enough to what he knows. She spoke like him, cracked jokes, she was easy going. She was fascinating. He hadn't noticed, but his long, blue tail was moving towards her, something that he would have to get used to.

Her amber eyes caught his staring, a little blush on her cheeks, "I did your hair, you know." She batted at his neural queue, hidden underneath an intricate braid.

Jake grabbed at the braid, looking over it, then he got a little surprised when he felt a unfamiliar pull at the back of his skull. As he felt it more, it felt like the tail connected to him at the base of his spine.

"It's called a neural queue. You can use it to connect to other life on Pandora. Think of it like a symbiotic connection. It can link you with direhorses, banshees, you can share one mind with any creature that has one."

"What about other Na'vi?" He asked, looking at her own braided queue.

Smirking, she waved her hand in front of his face, "Hey, my eyes are up here. And yeah, you can use it to connect with other Na'vi, but it's not a casual thing. It's mostly used in mating rituals. And Na'vi mate for life. So you better find someone special before you think about making a tsaheylu with just anyone."

"You, uh, make a say-loo with anyone yet?" He asked, a smirk on his face.

What a tease.

"Tsaheylu." She corrected him, "And no, I haven't."

"Haven't found the right person?" He asked, pausing as they came closer to the lodge. The eclipse was nearing, the world covered in a soft golden glow. His eyes seemed to glow in the light, a softness about him that made her heart grow fonder.

Letting out a scoff, she rolled her eyes, "I don't think you've noticed, but most of the people around here aren't in it for the long haul. They're not trying to settle down with me in my little bungalow." She nodded towards the tree house just outside the facility. "But who knows, Norm's pretty cute." She teased, continuing to walk ahead.

"Norm?" His face scrunched in confusion, letting out a chuckle, "Nah, I can't see you with that goody two shoes. He's way too much of a kiss ass. Besides," He leaned a little closer, whispering loudly, "I think he's got the hots for your mom." He nodded ahead. Norm was talking excitedly to Grace, who was talking back just as enthused.

"Damn, you're right." She crossed her arms over her chest, tsking to herself, "The one that got away. You got anybody else in mind...?" When she turned to look at him, she hadn't realized he was so close still. His face was mere inches from hers, a cocky smirk still on his lips.

"I got a few ideas." His voice was low, a rumble in his throat made her shiver. He was so close. His lips were so close. And that damn smile wasn't helping her heart beating against her chest. Something that his new ears seemed to pick up.

"Alrighg, Avatars in the lodge!" She heard her mother call out. She stepped back from him, hoping he didn't notice her blush.

He did.

"Come on, gotta get you inside." She brought Jake inside where he was led to his bunk.

"Come on, everybody, quiet down!" Grace called over the crowd. "Alright, gang, light's out." She clapped, making her way to her bunk. As Rey walked behind Grace, she watched Jake staring at the tendrils at the end of his neural queue.

"Don't play with that, you'll go blind." Grace scolded.

"That's kinda freaky." Jake said, dropping the queue, looking around. "Where's your bunk?" He asked, hoping it was near him.

"I got my bungalow, remember?" Rey patted his cheek, "Don't worry, you'll see me in the morning." She faked a pout.

"I'm looking forward to it." He smiled, a twinkle in his eyes.

"Rey, you two can flirt tomorrow, let's go." Grace called, causing Rey to blush, ears flattening and tail tucked between her legs as she hurried through the lodge. Her exit was followed by whistles, furthering her embarrassment.

"Mom." She muttered under her breath as she passed Grace.

"Goodnight, Rey‘itetsyìp!" Grace called, an amused smile on her face as she closed the gate, locking it behind her.

"Night, ma!" She called back, slightly annoyed. She wasn't flirting with him.

Or... was she?

Jake wasn't a bad looking Na'vi hybrid. He wasn't a bad looking human either. As much as she would like to pursue something with him, odds are he wouldn't stay on Pandora forever. He would go home as soon as the mission was over. And what would she be left with? An empty Avatar body that she would be forever connected to. It seemed like torture, seeing the love of your life alive but not truly living.

As she lay in her hammock, Rey closed her eyes, lulled to sleep by the sound of the wildlife of Pandora and dreaming of Jake Sully. He would be trouble. But she liked trouble.

Translations per learnna'vi.org and the Fwew app.

----

Read part 2 here!

‘awstengyem [ʔaw.stɛŋ.ˈj·ɛm] vtr. bind / bring two or more things together (ii)

yawntutsyìp [ˈjawn.tu.t͡sjɪp̚] n. darling, little loved one

sngä’iyu [ˈsŋæ.ʔi.ju] n. beginner

tsaheylu [t͡sa.ˈhɛj.lu] n. bond (neural connection)

‘itetsyìp [ˈʔi.tɛ.t͡sjɪp̚] n. little daughter (term of endearment)

Y'all are just gonna have to deal with another throuple story, I make the rules around here.

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[j2zara]

YAAAAAAY EHEH I GET TO SEND YOU A BUNCH OF ASKS 💖💖💖💖💖(<- these ones are just me being excited)

💖📥👀📊🍰🌝💻🧠

HIIIII SORRY THIS TOOK ALL DAY im so exhausted which is why i feel like my answers are not the best but here u go

💖 What do you like most about your own writing?

Argh…. Ngl i sent this one to more than one person in the circle of perverts bc I want to force ppl to say nice things abt themselves and now i gotta do the same thing. I feel like my answer before this year would’ve been my dialogue!!!!!!! Like. I do think i’m good at that. It’s hard to even say that because I feel like when I do enjoy a good quip and i feel like whenever i reread my original stuff im like “oh. I’m so marvel brained”. I don’t think dialogue is my strength in cloneverse tho.  At least. I don’t think it stands out. But otherwise that’s what i would land on.

Maybe it’s bc i’ve been in a very sorry for myself slump lately bc my current wip is giving me such a struggle but i don’t even know. Before now and my latest wip driving me crazy I would’ve said. Maybe coherence or theming? Like i don’t even know if thats a thing i CAN say like is it possible to be good at themes? Sorry im being so hard on myself rn I think if i were to look at my writing i would say i think it’s halfway decent but i don’t know the answer to the question…

📥 What is your fave fic to receive comments/messages on?

Oh this is an interesting one. For such a long time the answer would’ve been my old Talentswap fic for DR, tbh it always was like. Surprising and honestly kinda nice to get like a random comment of someone being like ‘hey i just discovered this! Sad its not updating but i really enjoyed it!” something like that. And I think b/c it was multichap it was very interesting and different when ppl were reading Almost for sure.

My secret weird answer is IYWD. Like. I’m at peace with the fact that its practically dead and nobody is gonna find it again i guess but a small part of me still considers it my favorite thing i’ve done in a long time so nobody does comment anymore but. That would be the thing i secretly kinda want. I’ll take literally anything tho obviously i love anybody that ever comments on anything.

👀 Do you have any WIPs that you would never let see the light of day? If yes, what are they about?

I have a Love is Blind au for a fandom I’m not gonna mention. Idk i might’ve mentioned it somewhere but eh. Its like ten chapters but only the first 5-ish are done i’m kinda 

And i’ve talked abt this this isn’t really a. Like. Oh I’m hiding this forever thing but. I have a DR Togakure hookup fic that’s written like. To take place during a naegiri wedding like in the post first game canon. And it is one of my favorite things i’ve ever written even tho it is smut, ngl my friends have been trying to convince me to post it and i might but im genuinely terrified nobody is gonna read it and im gonna be. Sad about it

📊 Current number of WIPs

Lol um… lj3porter fic. I’m two sentences into twelfth night coded j2 wooing Jace for Porter fic. Unfinished creeper Jace + j2porter fic…  a Jace topping Zara zarajaceporter fic. A fic that is in the IYWD verse that’s like a prequel that’s normal SB related. And if we could old fandoms I have semi abandoned talent swap (the ch 3.3 doc is like 10k lmao). Love is blind au.

If we’re counting original projects. My fantasy pseudo taming retelling. Horror comedy / locked room mystery called Date / Die. I have a. Sports romance (don’t look at me). And my weird lofty rom com thing that is this decade spanning story and used to be abt a “platonic” romance but idk I was like. They’re best friends they’re the most important ppl in the world to each other and they like having sex does that make this a normal romance. Maybe. Maybe not.

So ten. Yikes.

🍰 Name one of your fave comfort fics (doesn’t have to be your all time fave).

This is such a weird pull b/c i haven’t read it in years but Wing Man is a Bokuaka fic thats one of my fav of all time that makes me so happy idk its so like. Sweet and tbh i feel bad i never commented on it i really should bc they deserve to know i still think about it. but i just don’t reread fic all that often even my favs.

Actually that’s a lie i just remembered! I’ll cite something recent and i’m a little shy to cite something from the circle of perverts but also this is completely sincere i know i jokingly call @innskeep bambi’s LJ3 fic the perfect piece of fiction all the time but i do reread it… I just like them. I think it’s really cute and i like my little guys…  I love getting J3’s pov so much like i genuinely think its so comforting and special…

🌝 Who is one character you haven’t yet written for that you would like to?

I won’t lie I have a total DurDawn soft spot so like. I do think it wouldn’t fun to write something small for them. Also fucking hilarious as zukkacore that I’ve never written zukka and like. In my heart I would like too but they’re almost too precious for that? It’s hard to explain. Actually another answer might be for Mailee I actually think Mailee is soooooo underrated as a ship bc they have so much potential to be good for each other that wasn’t able to foster under azula’s thumb so I like that slightly toxic edge 

💻 Do you do research for your fics? What’s the deepest dive you’ve done?

I do a little bit of research but honestly not at much as i should. Last super deep dive i did was on the different filipino mythologies and history throughout the different regions bc ithink that subject is so interesting. but that has nothing to do with the sb circle that was for my own stuff. Lately I had to look up a little bit of elvish for something sb related lol. im such a fake fan of LOTR i love it but i’ve never actually read the books

🧠 What’s an idea you have that you can’t quite call a WIP yet?

A few! I’ve talked abt Jace hireling au I think that would be fun. And I joke abt Clone gamechanger au all the time and I SAID I wanted to try and make it work so like. Maybe. I’d love to try clone gamechanger au i think its funny and cute and i wanna do something indulgent.I feel like i’m forgetting something. Jess has real estate in j2porter vegas roleplay so i kinda wanna try maybe doing J2porter 50s housewife roleplay as a sort of sequel? I still like the idea of doing a You’ve Got Mail Shop Around the Corning fic. And. I feel so so so so indulgent wanting to write LJ3 stuff but like i just like them. I don’t know what i would wann write for them but i just like them

[fefuckability]

TLDR: Black Knight and Bertram get to walk off being killed by Ike’s gaggle of latent homosexuality in between games, because reasons, but Petrine is forced to stay dead, she deserves justice! Also I go into some bullshit about her stats and Branded lore AND I have mathematical proof she’s more dommy than Nailah!

More below:

Now while I wouldn’t call myself the CEO of Petrine quite yet (still working on earning that title) I certainly would call myself a Petrine expert, and today I come to you with everyone’s favorite subjects; unit stats and headcanons for lore IS didn’t have time to actually finish.

Petrine’s stats in Path of Radiance (I’ll be using hardmode since the true ending basically confirms it as the “canon” difficulty) are incredibly standout, not just because she’s a fucking beast but also because they don’t make sense, at least on the surface.

Level:18

HP:43

STR:20

MAG:18

SKL:22

SPD:23

LCK:10

DEF:24

RES:19

(I wont be going over her CON since it’s essentially meaningless on a female character, iykyk but tldr IS has a real nasty habit of genderlocking a playable CON stat, Echidna who won the Binding Blade woman’s division is rendered useless in her starting chapter because her weapon is too heavy for her and the enemies she’s surrounded by double her to death because of it, she is a green unit, her surviving is mostly an rng check.)

So you might be noticing something here, why the actual fuck is a PALADIN a complete quality build between physical and magical stats?

(Besides IS wanting to give her a cool magic weapon of course, there are very few coincidences in Tellius, to such an insane degree that many of Radiant Dawn’s twists were figured out long before its release. The crumb trail of what is very likely Petrine cut content makes me sad.)

Here we dip ever so slightly into headcanons (I’ll try to avoid getting to deep into pseudo canon stuff) but the reasoning is almost certainly because of her brand (Tiger Tribe). Micaiah, a heron branded carrying Altina’s blood, can very notably cast magic without a tome (she also can cast dark/elder magic without consequence but thats not the point of this), the ability to cast spells you have a predisposed proficiency for without a tome is very likely not unique to her, rather what makes her special is the sheer power of the magic her body is capable of channeling.

Petrine’s weapon in Path of Radiance is the Flame Lance, it deals magical damage based on her abnormally high magic stat and is essentially a catalyst for fire anima combined with a weapon she’s comfortable using (S rank).

So it’s pretty likely Petrine can cast at least use some fire magic without a tome or other catalyst, but uses one for stronger spells to avoid the recoil on her body, and I just think that’s metal as fuck, like that shit’s fucking awesome.

(Which is why in Fire Emblem lore tomes break, they take on the spell’s recoil in place of your body, and also why Valentian mages are just built different and say fuck that. What likely differentiates Branded is that they can cast varying degrees of magic without suffering recoil to their body, in Micaiah’s case healing magic is incredibly straining so I like to think of Sacrifice more being her casting Nosferatu in reverse)

Nailah time; she has a husband, a Heron who she says is perfect for her and they are very cute together but theres something here of note. Heron’s (theres no info on the other Bird Laguz) canonically have hollow bird bones, I’m not kidding, Reyson breaks his hand punching Oliver in the face.

Reyson: I suffer more damage than my target.

Ike: What?!

Reyson: When I bashed Duke Tanas's face, he only suffered a bloody nose, but it cracked the bones in the back of my hand.

Ike: Holy.

Reyson: Indeed.

Ike: ...But it felt good, right?

Reyson: Oh, yeah.

Nailah is at the very least canonically capable of restraining her vicious Snu Snu to be gentle enough she won’t break her boytoy, which is REALLY fucking gentle, and while Petrine is probably also surprisingly healthy about kinky stuff (lets be real would she really consider it a “victory” if her partner didn’t want it?) I’m just saying even the strongest would prolly need a healer afterwards.

Also she would definitely put a collar on you, I know her constantly calling people dogs is censorship of her swearing her ass off in Japanese, but Japanese Petrine is probably also carrying some insane BDSM “lick my boots and hump my leg but I’m also viciously protective of you and really do care” vibes.

Also her tits are bigger than Nailah’s.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk/unhinged rant, please consider voting Petrine she is very pretty and deserves better than she got, and even though Nailah will prolly win all the way to first place I can at least hope it won’t be a one sided curbstomp.

If by some miracle Petrine comes out on top there will be raucous celebrations.

ima frame this post on my wall for posterity

[angrelysimpping]

M!OC x Friend's M!OC

Contents: Dead Dove; Non Con; fantasized incest; pseudo incest; Aksel being the massive creep he is; Danny’s drunk and high and very much not making logical decisions; painal

Set in the School AU, where everything is "normal." No cult, Aksel never blinded Joaquim, Danny isn't half possessed. Characters are younger than their canon age, in their last year of high school, getting ready to go off to uni.

Aksel, Joaquim, Vine, and Murmur belong to 💜@inkyquince 💜

Words: ~3.6 k

Really, it makes perfect sense in Danny’s brain, if he can hold onto his thoughts long enough to follow them. He doesn’t know what he drank, really, just that it was strong enough to make Vine’s nose scrunch when he’d taken the first swig before pressing the drink into Danny’s hands. Danny had drunk that and more before Vine had pulled him into his lap and shotgunned weed into his waiting mouth. Now here he is, tipsy and high and the party long over, alone in the cool, dark night and trying to nail down his thoughts.

He should have stayed with Vine. Well, he would have stayed with Vine, would have stayed in the drummer's lap, half riding the thick fingers stretching him out while making out, if Murmur hadn't cut things short. The singer had shown up and nearly dragged Danny off Vine, sneering as he snapped at Vine to Stop fucking the whore and get on stage.

So, Danny had ended up alone. Alone and with the intense need to sleep. Alone, in need of sleep, and in front of Joaquim’s house.

Danny’s never been to Joaquim’s house, but he knew where it was. Everyone did, the St. James house, how could Danny not know where it was? But, he’d never visited. Hell, he’s not really sure Joaquim knows who he is, but he knows Joaquim. Or, Danny knows Joaquim enough. He knows Joaquim is friends with Vine and that he’s nice, a good person. So, surely, Joaquim won’t mind if Danny crawls in through his window one night and crashes on the floor. Just for the night, just the once. Joaquim seems like the kind of person who would let Danny curl up in a warm corner and sleep. Double so if Danny mumbled out something about how his parents would kick him out on sight if they caught him coming in like this.

Yeah, Joaquim’s a nice guy, he wouldn’t mind.

But, luck seems to be on Danny’s side, at the moment. Not only is Joaquim not in, meaning Danny won’t have to try explaining himself while tipsy and fucked up, there was also a little couch! A beat up couch that would probably leave him stiff in the morning, but leagues better than propping himself up in a corner and hoping for the best.

Danny doesn’t hesitate, flopping onto the couch. It’s…surprisingly comfortable, actually. Yeah, he’ll be sore in the morning, but probably not that bad. What’s more, there’s Joaquim’s signature jacket thrown over the side. Danny tugs it down, using it as a blanket.

God, Danny could stay like this forever. Tucked up and cozy, drifting slowly out of consciousness as he thinks about Joaquim. It’s hard not to think about the cute redhead, not when Danny can catch hints of his scent with every deep inhale. Something sweet and leather and raspberries. Danny can almost pretend that there’s someone else here with him, holding him on the small couch. It’d be nice, he thinks, to be held so close on a couch like this. They’d have to be practically on top of each other, snuggled close. Yeah, that’d be nice.

Danny slips into a deep, easy sleep. A sleep so deep that he might as well be dead to the world. Deep enough that he’d never hear the tiny click of the door unlatching; or the whisper soft swish of it swinging open; nor the light padding of feet who know their way easily around the room they didn’t belong in. No, there’s no way for Danny to know that Aksel St. James has slinked into his younger half brother’s room. Even if he did, he wouldn’t think anything of it. Not really. Maybe the older brother was looking for something Joaquim borrowed. Aksel was head boy, top of all his classes, beloved by teachers and with a small, almost cult-like following of students. How could Danny ever guess that the angelic like blond was slinking into Joaquim’s room to steal a pair of his little brother's used underwear?

Aksel only falters slightly at finding the school slut passed out in Joaquim’s room, but who is he to look a gift horse in the mouth? It’s like a blessing, finding Danny unconscious in his younger brother’s room. Something for Aksel to unwrap and enjoy, have fun with. Take out all his pent up frustrations out on in the safety and comfort of his own home. In his little brother’s bedroom. Joaquim’s bedroom. Joaquim.

It’s surprisingly easy for Aksel’s shaking hands to tug Danny’s jeans down, fabric sliding over sharp hips, the younger man shifting slightly in his sleep, as if helping Aksel strip him, but otherwise not stirring as the denim slides off his legs. Aksel’s breath quickens, harsh in his own ears as he stares down at the unconscious man beneath him. Aksel isn't a virgin, nowhere close, but there’s something about how this is all happening in his baby brother’s room that makes everything feel more intense, cock already taking an interest, pressing painfully against his pants.

Pretty, he thinks, gazing down at the body spread out under him. Danny has a pretty cock, resting at the end of a thick happy trail like the pot of gold at the end of a rainbow. On the longer end even when soft, a dusky pink tip that just begged to get sucked on and made drool pool under Aksel's tongue. Lovely thing nestled in a nest of soft, trimmed pubes. Not like his little brother's cock, not at all. Monstrous thing Aksel could only stare at in mirrors when he barged into the bathroom while Joaquim showered, waving off any squawk of protest with how they're brothers so it's fine if Aksel doesn't wait for Joaquim to finish showering first. But, Aksel didn't want his cock, so it's fine that it's nothing like his brother's.

Shimmying out of his own pants only takes a second, quick to press his aching cock against warm thighs, soft skin. Aksel has half a mind to force himself into the unconscious man, fuck into the body beneath him, chase his pleasure fast and hard without thought. But, he holds back. He won't get another chance like this, he wants to draw it out a little.

Gripping under Danny's knees, Aksel pushes his legs back, exposing a cute little hole, eager for his attention. He presses two fingers against the puckered hole, grinding wildly when the tight muscles twitch against him. His last bit of restraint snaps as he roughly thrusts his fingers past the ring of muscle, moaning low in the back of his throat as Danny whines, kicking a little at the intrusion in his sleep. Maybe, if Danny wasn't high and tipsy, if he hadn't fucked himself on Vine's thicker fingers earlier in the night, Aksel's dry fingering would wake him. Maybe he'd be able to cry out, awake or not, and alert the St. James father to the actions of his eldest son.

But he can't and he doesn't. Danny just mewls softly in his sleep, squirming on the fingers being worked in and out of him.

"That's it," Aksal says with a breathy laugh, "be a good boy, Joaquim. Relax for your big brother."

Aksel can’t help but stare at where his fingers disappear into the body under him. So tight, so warm. His cock leaks against his thigh at just the thought of finally sinking into that delicious heat. And there’s that pretty cock again, growing hard, flushed and leaking messily. He almost wants to duck down, lap up some of the thick precum and pretend it was his brother’s.

He doesn’t. Instead, Aksel leans down, pressing his face into the jacket still spread over Danny’s chest and inhaling deep. He moans low, familiar scent of his little brother making him dizzy. “Joa.” It’s then that Aksel hits upon Danny’s prostate, making his cock twitch, a tiny half choked sound pulled from his throat and garbled in his sleep. A noise that Aksel swears sounds like a soft sigh of Aki, and he can’t take it anymore.

Aksel presses against the bundle of nerves one more time before pulling out, slotting between Danny’s leg, lining up his fat, leaking tip with Danny’s twitching hole. Once, twice, three times, Aksel taps his head against Danny’s rim, reveling in the way Danny squirms and whines under him, instinctively trying to sink down on the thick cock teasing him even when unconscious.

“Such a good boy,” Aksel murmurs, tapping against Danny’s rim for a fourth time, soft pap of skin against skin making him shiver. “Big brother is gonna make you feel so good, promise.”

His actions are in sharp contrast with his soft words, pushing into Danny with one solid, savage thrust.

Danny’s eyes fly open, mouth dropping open in a scream that never makes it past his throat. He can’t think, mind scrambling to make sense of what’s happening. A hand clamps over his mouth, a dick rearranging his guts. Fear burns through him as he tires and fails to understand what the fuck is going on.

Then he hears it.

“Joa, fuck, Joaquim. Taking me so good, taking your, ha, your big brother so well.”

Danny recognizes the voice, but he still doesn’t believe that it’s Aksel, even when his eyes finally focus on the man above him. It’s dark, little light creeping in from the window Danny had left open after crawling through. But, that’s Aksel St. James. Bright blue eyes and angelic blond hair and sweet dusting of freckles that Danny would be hard pressed not to recognize.

“My sweet, ah, s-sweet baby brother. Gonna make you addicted to my cock.”

But that can’t be right. This can’t be right. Aksel wouldn’t do something like this, would he? Danny doesn’t think so, he can’t fathom a world in which Aksel would do, could do, something like this. No way. Never. Not in a million years.

A dream. A nightmare. It has to be. A product of some fucked up part of his subconscious. Too much to drink, too much to smoke, too much porn that’s wormed its way into his brain and turned Aksel into some kinda foul monster. Turned the older man into a creep who would rape someone he found sleeping in his brother’s room while voicing vile fantasies that it was his brother he was assaulting instead.

Not real. None of it. That's why he can't move, can't fight back. A wildly vivid dream where his body hardly responds to his commands, arms leaden and brain foggy. He can’t think straight, can't think past the pain of being brutally fucked open and used. It didn't help that he could still catch hints of Joaquim’s scent from the jacket haphazardly spread over his chest. Leather and rust and cigarettes and sweet, sweet raspberries. If Danny lets himself, he can almost imagine that this is all some sorta play, cnc or somno, something he actually wanted and consented to.

Something with Joaquim.

Cute redhead who wouldn't hurt him. Who blushed when he walked in on Danny and Vine fooling around. Who never said anything crude about Danny's appetites or harassed him for a turn. Who could pick him up and toss him around but always seemed so, so gentle.

On impulse, Danny opens his mouth, licking softly, almost meekly, at the palm pressed over his lips. Aksel makes a tiny sound, halting in his fevered thrusts but still pressed deep. Too deep. Makes Danny feel too full, a feeling he might appreciate under different circumstances, but not now.

The hand over Danny's mouth moves, fingers sliding past his lips and pressing down on his tongue.

And he sucks.

It's instinct, something Danny must have done a thousand times. Easy. Something he could control.

"Fuck," Aksel moans, low and drawn out. "There's a good boy."

There's a small flicker of heat inside Danny at those words. A traitorous prickle of pleasure.

Aksel starts moving again, pounding into Danny as if in a frenzy. And, try as Danny might to stop it, the pleasure builds, the head of Aksel's cock just grazing his prostate with every other thrust.

Danny tries not to think, to focus only on the fingers in his mouth, tongue swirling around the digits. It helps, in a way. Lets his brain zone in on something that wasn’t the burning pain of Aksel humping into him.

His reprieve only lasts for a few moments, his teeth scraping over knuckles when a hand wraps around his cock, demanding his attention. It hurts, Aksel squeezing his cock, roughly thumbing the tip of his dick, a finger nail lightly digging into his slit and making tears spring to the corner of his eyes even as cum leaks down his shaft. Danny whines around the fingers in his mouth in the vain hope it would make Aksel stop, but it only seems to spur him on.

“Be a good little brother,” Aksel huffs, jerking Danny’s cock almost as brutally as he fucked his ass, “and cum on my cock.”

Danny wants to die. To disintegrate. That’s what should happen, for him to get ripped from reality for his brain to birth such a horrid fucking nightmare. Because not only has he gone and made Aksel a monster in his dreams, but he likes it.

Heat surges through him at Aksel’s words, pooling shamefully in his gut. Tears streak down his cheeks and the small hope he has that Aksel won’t notice are dashed as the blond almost immediately leans forward, tongue darting out to swipe over the salty trails left over Danny’s skin. Even as he cries, his dick twitches dangerously in Aksel’s hand, forced ever closer to the edge as Aksel continues to chase his own pleasure. Aksel might not be deliberately targeting Danny’s prostate, but that doesn’t matter. If Danny could fully let himself drift, he’d pretend it was Murmur being a sadistic shit and doing it on purpose, edging him.

He can’t drift, though. Danny can’t help but stare up at Aksel as he finally cums, spilling into his hand and tightening around his cock. Aksel looks wild, feral. Unhinged.

“Good boy,” Aksel pants. “Good fucking boy.”

Aksel wanted this to last a while, but he couldn't hang on much longer, thrusts becoming sloppy as he gets closer and closer to his end. “Joa,” he pants, harsh breaths sounding far too loud in Danny’s ear. “Keep being a g-good boy for me. Okay? Take, ah, your big brother’s cum d-deep in your ass like the good boy I know, fuck, I know you are.”

Danny’s too far gone to really be aware of when Aksel finishes, pumping him full of thick ropes of cum. He knows Aksel doesn’t stop, continuing to fuck into him through his orgasm. It’s as if he’s possessed, bent on fucking his seed as deep into Danny as possible.

A tiny sound escapes Danny as Aksel pulls out quick, just as inconsiderate of Danny’s comfort as when he started. Danny’s poor hole isn’t given a chance to rest, though, the fingers in his mouth ripped from him and shoved past the puffy rim without hesitation. Danny’s eyes roll back, a high keen ripped from his throat as Aksel fingers his cum deeper into the exhausted man.

When Danny feels something against his mouth, he doesn’t think, licking at the presented flesh obediently. Anything, anything, that made this nightmare end faster. He hardly registers that he’s cleaning his own cum from Aksel’s hand, tongue lapping up the salty liquid meticulously, not missing a single drop in case that triggered some kind of retribution.

“Good boy,” Aksel coos. “My sweet baby brother. So good for me. Did you like it? Did big brother make you feel good?” The fingers slide out of him, the newly spit cleaned hand brushing through his sweat damp hair. “Hm? You too tired to speak? Fucked you so good that you can’t even say how much you loved coming on your big brother’s cock?”

Aksel’s gazing down at him, a strange look in those bright blue eyes. One that makes Danny’s stomach flip with renewed dread. Aksel wants an answer, one Danny can barely think of, let alone verbalize. It takes his last ounce of strength to nod his head yes.

“Ahw, sorry baby. I’ll clean us up, big brother will take care of it.”

Aksel stands and Danny’s heart sinks as he sees the blond’s cum covered cock. It’s so close to his face, he’s sure that Aksel has decided to go another round, to fuck his mouth this time. To make him clean the dick that was forced inside him only moments before.

He doesn’t, turning to rummage through a basket that Danny hadn’t paid any attention to earlier. It was just a basket of dirty clothes, after all. What use did they have to Danny? Of course, this had been Aksel’s original goal, fishing out a pair of Joaquim’s dirty underwear and using it to wipe off his cock.

Aksel fixes his own clothes first, shoving the soiled underwear into his back pocket, before redressing Danny. It’s harder than stripping him, Danny’s unconscious body somewhat helping, responding to Aksel’s touches. Now, Danny is sapped of every last speck of energy. He can barely keep his eyes open as Aksel tucks his cock back into his pants, drapes Joaquim’s jacket back around his body. He doesn’t want to fall asleep again, especially not with Aksel still in the room. It’s a futile fight with his body, though, eyelids growing heavier and heavier as Aksel brushes back his hair, murmurs soothing words that Danny can hardly hear.

Aksel leans down, brushing his lips over Danny’s forehead in a soft, almost tender, kiss.

“Sweet dreams, little brother.”

There’s a pang in his chest at those whispered words. A deep, aching echo in his bones. New tears gather in the corners of his eyes, slipping free only as he finally lets his eyes shut and succumbs to sleep.

-

Everything hurts. Danny’s not even fully awake yet, but that’s all he can think of. His body fucking hurt. Achey. His head is pounding and his eyes feel like sand was ground into them, but it’s his body that really pains him. What the fuck happened? He thought his hangover would be brutal but he hadn’t figured his body would feel so sore. Worse than he expected from getting messed up and then crashing on a couch that was too small for him to properly spread out on. Maybe he should have slept on the floor after all? But, no, if he hurt this much from sleeping on the couch, it’d probably hurt worse if he’d slept on the floor.

He stands gingerly, careful to keep Joaquim’s jacket from falling to the floor. It somehow felt wrong to let it, disrespectful or something. Danny takes a moment to lay the jacket back over the side of the couch, smoothing down any wrinkles.

When he’s satisfied with his work on the jacket, Danny stretches, trying to work out some of the soreness from his body.

Really, if he didn’t know any better, Danny would think he’d been fucked good and hard last night.

Danny freezes, going cold as he remembers what happened last night. It’s flashes, snippets of words and scraps of feelings.

That can’t be right, though. If he’d fucked someone last night, he wouldn’t be in Joaquim’s room in the first place. He would have stayed with whoever he’d fucked.

He leaves Joaquim’s room through the same window he’d crawled in from, starting his walk back to his own home, ignoring the pain in his lower back. The pain that’s familiar to him. The pain that always flairs when he’s been fucked too hard, pain that’d normal have him giving his partner crooked grins, his dick twitching in his pants at the aches that’d flair as he moved.

But not this time. Because he didn’t get laid. So it’s just normal pain from sleeping poorly, even if it’d never happened before when he’d literally slept on the floor.

His brain drags up the vision of man on top of him, Aksel on top of him. Aksel St. James. Aksel fucking him, Aksel hurting him. Calling him “little brother,” calling him “Joaquim.” That beautiful face hovering above him, the vile words spilling from his mouth, the brutal cock splitting him open.

A nightmare. A horrid fucking nightmare from the depths of his porn rotted brain. That’s all. That’s fucking it. Nothing else. His body hurts from the couch. That’s all. That’s all. Something born out of his own perversion. Not real. Not real. Not in the slightest.

Danny flinches as a car drives past him, the sound breaking him from his thoughts. He fumbles with his phone, shooting off a quick text to Vine.

need to sleep with you tonight

His phone lights up as Vine answers almost right away.

needy slut huh? cant promise murm won’t try to run u off but sure, get ur ass over here. parents again?

Danny doesn’t bother answering, turning on his heel as his destination changes. He’s never had a nightmare like that when sleeping with someone else, and he can’t see a world where Vine wouldn’t let Danny share his bed. Danny would make sure to pay him back, after all.

[syrupsyche]

Hi! I've finished my second installment of the canon era Enjolsette siblings au, so here is a director's commentary on the last chapter because I did not take almost 3 months to write it to not have any thoughts on it.

We get Valjean's reason for agreeing to the language lessons! If Marius had kept up the lessons long enough without popping the question, Valjean might have just whisked Cosette away to England. Now that's an AU-within-an-AU I wanna explore...

Feuilly appears! And is once again able to elicit a human reaction out of Enjolras. This is also where Valjean begins to realise that his children are pretty sad and lonely most of the time, and while it is partially because of his tendency to isolate them all, he takes it way harder than he should.

Enjolras is trying to be aloof here. "Cosette told me...distant from her. She's worried...". He doesn't bring in his own feelings on the matter, and one might wonder if he had even noticed Valjean's weird behaviour if it weren't for Cosette. Which brings us to:

I personally hc that Enjolras is usually so caught up in his public affairs that he neglects the details of his private life until it catches up to him (something we shall hopefully explore in later installments...). As such, when he finally thinks through why his aging father might be tired more often and losing his sense of time, he jumps to the most obvious conclusion. And that conclusion hits him like a truck.

Dammit Enjolras! He reveals the secret his sister has worked so hard on keeping 😔 Though I cannot blame him; I don't think Enjolras has had any experience dealing with the sinking panic that comes with thinking your parent might die soon. He would have a much better hold on Les Amis secrets compared to this lol.

Also, a tad bit of Valjean selfishness here: he never reassures Enjolras that he isn't actually sick or dying. Instead, he uses his son's frazzled state of mind to fish out the details of Marius' courtship and then sends him out of the room. Poor Enjolras probably still thinks his father is going to die soon! (Which, if you can remember, is most likely the reason why he convinces Marius to quickly propose to Cosette)

This talk is surprisingly cathartic for Marius. He is a little closer to Valjean in this AU (though thats not saying much) so he might have unconsciously imprinted on Valjean as a pseudo father-figure. By spilling all this to Valjean, he's finally able to tell a "father" all that he had wanted to say to Georges Pontmercy, thereby relieving his guilt. And of course Valjean sympathizes with him here; Marius shares a lot of traits with Cosette.

Classic Valjean self-deprecation 👍 Though, he is a little foolish for allowing Cosette to be married to Marius who, at this stage, is still quite broke. However, this AU does have Enjolras as a brother, so Valjean probably feels good enough to leave her in his hands and just fade into obscurity.

Rescued-from-the-gallows metaphor hehehe....

A direct contrast to Marius in the first chapter, who was merely "...an only child with no father" and knew nothing of "a loving, tight-knit family" (Chpt 1). Now now he's beginning to have a father again, as well as a brother! We can see how much Marius has developed over the course of the fic :D

Ironically, it is Enjolras now that notices and worries over his father, while Cosette is busy with her friends. Would he try to address this in the future? Maybe. Then again, this is the only time he will ever let himself be fully distracted from the rebellion plans, so whatever his course of action will be, I doubt it'll be for a completely selfless reason (or selfish, depending on how you see it...)

—

This has been a very long analysis but I did put 5 months of work into this fic 😞 Now I'm scared how long it'll take me to finish the rest of the installments....

Let me know if you want more director's commentary in the future! I love dissecting stories, especially my own :)

[rockinlibrarian]

why do you ship incest. adoptive siblings are still siblings

Well, of course they are, in real life. But we're talking fiction, and fiction is not about showing only the perfect and unproblematic. It's about asking what if?

Now the chances are that you, Anon, don't even follow me and aren't actually interested in my response. You've made up your mind and are only using this ask to express your disgust in the form of a question. But I think it's an interesting question, and I'm going to respond anyway.

There are many different angles to reply from. Why do I ship incest? That almost implies that I choose my ships based on whether or not they're incestuous. What you have to understand is that, in almost every instance, people who ship incestuous or even pseudo-incestuous (which I'll get to in a minute) relationships have not chosen to do so because incest turns them on. They're not saying, Hey, it's COOL to be in a romantic relationship with your sibling, EVERYONE should try it! Shipping, in fiction, is about exploring the relationship between two characters in different settings. In fact, you'll frequently find AUs of such pairings where they aren't siblings at all, allowing the writer and reader to explore the relationship without having to consider the implications of whether or not it's incestuous. Of course, I say that, even though I've never written such an AU myself. Nope, I've always addressed the issue head-on.

Which brings us to the pseudo-incest concept, which tends to be the warning tag I use on my Fiks-- because sometimes it's up for debate whether the pairing IS incestuous in the first place. Again, in real life, you are correct, adoptive siblings are still siblings, and adoptive families are REAL, often more so than their bio families would have been, and I've got a different fandom whose third season I could rant about for forgetting that canonically for reasons completely unrelated to incest (*cough*Legion*cough*). But the only ship I have that falls in this category is between two of the Hargreeves "siblings" from The Umbrella Academy, and I put the "siblings" in quotes here because in this case we are not talking about a happy little adoptive family here. We're talking about a group of children who were "adopted"-- ie purchased-- and raised in basically a military academy, not a family. In fact one of the themes of the show is that these incredibly messed-up people finally come to SEE themselves as family and love each other as family-- which they were NOT doing from the beginning. It's like chastizing couples who meet at boarding school for incest because they lived together as children. The Umbrella Academy even canonically has at least one romantic history amongst them (and I'm not particularly interested in that pairing even. The Homecoming King and Queen, eh. Has nothing on the Apocalypse and the Knight-of-Stopping-the-Apocalypse, the One Who Cries if You Step on Ants and History's Most Notorious Assassin, the ones who are simultaneously Best Friends and Nemeses-- see? INTERESTING!) Now, it is still debatable, and I don't fault anyone for saying "still too close, it's not for me," but that's different than saying "this ship is morally repugnant and therefore you are morally repugnant for not understanding that."

And then, why do I ship it? Why does anyone ship anyone? The irony of this is that I, of all people, am not a shipper. I prefer Gen fic. Even when I DO ship, I still don't like smut. And up until this particular ship, I never shipped anybody who wasn't canonically at least implied to have romantic feelings! If you go through my / tags on AO3, the vast majority of them are in fact canonically married couples. I have always been the person who rolled their eyes and said "You know, people can LOVE each other STRONGLY without it being a SHIP" at shippers. I honestly have no idea why this particular pair wants to be romantic in my head! I have never once entertained the notion that my OTHER, even bigger, favorite pseudo-sibling pair in fanfic, Cary and Kerry Loudermilk, might be romantically involved, and they are even closer, and they love each other SO SO SO SO much, and I have written SOOOOO many fics exploring THEIR relationship. And other people HAVE written slash fics about them. But I can't see it, myself. They just don't do that. And that's the way I see them. But for some reason when I try exploring Five and Viktor's relationship in the same way, the little "NOW KISS!" voice in the back of my head won't shut up. And I accept that there are many other people who do NOT have that voice, who love their relationship purely platonically and are just as sure that they don't do that as I am sure the Loudermilks don't. We can love these characters in our own ways!

Which brings me to the biggest takeaway from this question: ship and let ship. We don't know why anyone latches on to any particular ship, problematic or not. And we all have squicks and even just pairings we're not interested in-- I am not interested in a LOT of pairings, even mainstream canonical ones, especially ones that seemed to be based on hotness and turn-ons rather than personality, which there are LOADS of. There are many reasons for a person to not approve of a ship in their own opinion-- I personally have always found millennial-old immortals with young adult humans to be squicky, and never understood their widespread appeal, but even I made an exception when I fell for Jason Mendoza and Janet on the Good Place (I could write an essay about why THAT one is compelling and a perfectly good exception to the mortal/immortal issue too), so it's not even like there are hard-and-fast-rules on a person-to-person basis. There are even other reasons to find Fiktor squicky beyond their pseudo-sibling status-- the complicated (though not millennial-different) age issues (which can also be avoided through AUs or when-it-takes-place changes in setting), the fact that they've frequently threatened each other with violence-- okay maybe not FREQUENTLY, but even once could be enough of a squick for some people. But everyone's tolerance for whatever they deem squicky is different, so it's their OWN responsibility to just NOT READ that which they don't like!

Now if you HAVE been actually following my Tumblr, you'd know that the biggest social issue I tend to post about is the Freedom of Information, because I'm a librarian and it's one issue I actually have a decent amount of expertise about. The line between sensible curation and censorship can sometimes be hard to see, but it does exist, and one of the main criteria is that, when building a collection, you have to take your own opinions out of it. You can say "I don't agree with that," but as soon as you add, "and no one should have access to this thing I don't agree with," then you have problems. Because some things that some people find perfectly innocent-- like the fact that trees don't have gender-- can be seen by someone else as "dangerous indoctrination". And sometimes someone doesn't agree with something because THEY are objectively wrong-- "I don't agree with teaching the true history of slavery in the United States because it implies our Founding Fathers were imperfect"-- and you ESPECIALLY do NOT want opinions to keep FACTS from being accessible. But anyone can attempt to back up their opinions with facts, so drawing the line is really murky! So you err on the side of accessibility, not on repressing disagreeable ideas.

And AO3 is really great for this, because as long as something isn't plagiarized, it's fair game. It's your job as a READER to use the handy-dandy tags and rating system to avoid that which you don't like! And everyone can hold their own opinions about fictional characters in harmony!

tl;dr: things that are Bad in real life are not automatically bad in fiction. Ship and Let Ship.

[hecckyeah]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💗

Well hey you, thanks for this!! I never like self-promoting anything of mine, but I do carry a certain sense of accomplishment and love for my fics, and I just want people to read and enjoy them :)

So here we go!

1. Until the Night is Over

(Fandom: Agents of SHIELD)

This one is so near and dear to my heart. It was inspired by the song When the Night is Over by Lord Huron, and it’s the first and only multi-chapter fic I’ve ever completed (I’ve always been more of a one-shot gal myself). I call it a “modern day Dousy AU,” with a healthy amount of espionage, angst, mystery, and fluff. Written at the height of the Dousy craze around here, and I was so honored by all the loyal readers and even some late night idea sessions with the mutuals.

Anyway, it’s a classic and has held the number one favorite spot for a long time :)

2. the medic

(Fandom: Star Wars: The Clone Wars)

I feel like this was my first real foray off my beaten path of linear, conversational fic, if you will. It’s more poetry than anything else and it focuses on Kix, a character we don’t see much of but has a huge and very unique role in TCW. I wanted to explore the ins and outs of being a medic in the GAR, and the parallels that led to his ultimate fate. I’ve even gotten some amazing feedback from relatives of real life army medics, who say it rings true and reminds them of their veteran relatives stories, which is just a huge honor and makes me tear up a little :’)

3. but you dream of some epiphany

(Fandom: Star Wars: The Clone Wars)

Again, this one is less “traditional” and more poetic. It’s just a short take on the couple of weeks immediately following Order 66, and how Ahsoka and Rex try to find their way in this new, very hostile galaxy. Lots of emotions, PTSD, and callbacks and parallels. It’s also partly me rejecting the canon that says the two of them split up almost immediately after escaping the purge, and deciding that it’s much more likely they would stick together, at least for a little while.

4. And I Dealt My Heart

(Fandom: Agents of SHIELD)

For someone who’s never been a fan of AUs, I sure do write a lot of them for Dousy :)

This one was my knee jerk reaction to some overwhelming emotions I was feeling following a dance I went to with my family. Funny what a whirlwind of a night can make you feel in the span of 2-3 hours. I love love love country music and the culture surrounding it, and I thought what better way to put a new spin on the Blue Shirt™️ than a good old fashioned square dance? Plus, it’s such a natural foil for Daisy that it really worked, at least in my opinion. And who doesn’t love a little extra sprinkle of Philinda being pseudo parents? :)

5. can’t tell me there’s no point in trying

(Fandom: Star Wars)

This one is still in progress, so we’ll see where I land on it, but so far I have SO enjoyed the process. It was originally just a one-shot, aka me scratching the itch I have to see Ahsoka Tano and Cal Kestis interact on screen, and touching on the emotions surrounding Order 66 and the clones’ betrayal and how Cal would react to a de-chipped Rex. Now it’s gone much further to my own delight, and I get to explore things like Cody and the Bad Batch and even Cal’s biological family. I really love it so far and I’m excited about where it’s headed :)

A couple honorable mentions because I’m indecisive:

The One With the Second Chance - (Friends; Joey/Rachel)

when the smoke clears (i’ll be right here) - (AOS; Dousy)

[felicitysmoaksx]

Hi everyone! And welcome to the last chapter of this fic! It's been a ride and I want to thank all of you for the kudos and sweet comments you have all left.

Now I want to warn you there is heavy survivor's guilt in this on Sarah's part and it does go in depth. So please be careful when reading. And this won't have the happy ending everyone is hoping for. But remember there is still time in the series. This is not the end. Anyway, thanks so much for reading and hope you enjoy it!

My song recs for this chapter Heaven's not too Far and Lifeline by We Three and Five More Minutes by Scotty McCreery

Rating: Explicit (Minors DNI 18+)

Summary:  Blue eyes flicked down to his lover asleep once more. Her chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. There was not a doubt in his mind that he knew Sarah. At least where it counted. He knew what kind of person she was. He knew her heart. But he didn’t know the stories of what made her heart the way that he knew it.  

Word Count: 8.0k

Warnings: Sexual Content, Depictions of parental abandonment, depictions of violence, inaccurate medical procedures, and implied/references a canonical character death and in depth survivors’ guilt 

Read On AO3 | Fic Playlist | Want to be tagged when I post a Rheese story?

Hold On, I Still Want You Ch. 5

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

The beeping was back, only it sounded more steady? And her body…her limbs still felt sluggish and heavy. But the weight of Justin’s body was gone. Groaning quietly, Sarah noticed she couldn’t move her head as she tried to open her eyes. 

“Am I dyin’?” She questioned after she got her eyes open and the blurry image of Teddy Courtney hovered over her. Looking every bit the parallel image of his older sister in the ambulance.

“Why the hell would you ask that?” Teddy asked, sounding agonized as she blinked and now he was slowly starting to come into focus. 

“Because you’re here,” her voice sounded hoarse and she almost didn’t recognize it. It felt awkward to talk to like her mouth wasn’t really moving but Sarah knew it was, “And when you’re here, usually that means something bad has happened because you really don’t like Chicago and only really come back to the city if something has happened. And from what I’ve gathered in the last few minutes based on my surroundings, I’m in a hospital bed. So two plus two equals me dyin’.”  

“You’re not dying,” Teddy said with a roll of his eyes lined with eyeliner, “And when you get out of the hospital we’re going to have a discussion about your scary math skills.” 

Sarah grinned drowsily at him, despite herself. Her pseudo-brother still looked unimpressed. Till she asked, “Do I still have my shadow?”

In response to the callback to their childhood, he made an exaggerated appearance of checking her over with a tiny smirk on his lips, “Yup, shadow’s still there.”

“Good,” she yawned, eyes drifting shut. Just that small interaction had taken a lot of energy. 

“You scared the shit out of Erin. When your boyfriend comes back, I’m gonna go call her, let her and Voight know you woke up.” Teddy said offhandedly as he sat back down in the seat by Sarah’s bedside. (Sarah didn’t see it because her eyes were shut. But her pseudo-brother was frowning worriedly at her. She was acting like the Sarah he knew, but she had only been awake for a minute or two. Was it bad that she was already tired? Maybe he should find her doctor.) 

Brown eyes snapped open instantly. Boyfriend? She didn’t have a boyfriend. Sarah stared at Erin’s brother in confusion. When she spoke, every word felt like she was moving cotton around in her mouth. “What’re you talkin’ ‘bout? I don’t have a boyfriend?”

Teddy rolled his eyeliner-lined eyes. “Then you might want to have a conversation with him when he gets back from the bathroom. Because he’s been here since I got in this morning. I think he might’ve been here before that too because he was sleeping here when a nurse brought me up.”

“Who?” She croaked. 

“Um,” Teddy turned around and pointed a finger. When Sarah followed it, she saw he was pointing to Will Halstead walking out of a room across the hallway. But he was engaged to Natalie. Why would he-  “Not him but about his height and build. But a little broader? With dark hair and he has a more grown-out beard. Connor something.” 

Oh. That both made more sense and didn’t all at the same time. Connor had stayed? With her? Why? But no sooner than the questions came to her, Connor appeared in the doorway, like he had heard his name. 

“Hi. There are those brown eyes I’ve been wanting to see,” he said, his voice soft when he saw she was awake. If not for the beeping and the smell of disinfectant, Sarah could close her eyes and she would be back in Connor’s apartment.

Seeing the other man, Teddy stood up slowly. It seemed like they needed a little space. Then with a light squeeze to her arm, he said: “I’m gonna go to the cafeteria, get something to eat, and call Erin. I’ll be back in a little while, okay?” 

Sarah couldn’t nod with her neck being immobilized, so she shot her pseudo-brother a tired grin…Well, she hoped it was a grin. But Teddy still looked worried. So she slurred out, “Don’t take my shadow.” 

That seemed to loosen him up a little. Teddy rolled his eyes fondly, “We already established your shadow is still firmly attached to you. It’s not going anywhere, Wendy-lady.” 

Then he made his way out of her hospital room, pausing briefly to speak to Connor in a low undertone that Sarah couldn’t make out the words being said. She narrowed her eyes as her…lover?  Was that the adept word to use when she described what the dark-haired, broad-shouldered surgeon was to her? Honestly even that seemed too intimate because Connor wasn’t in love with her. Sure he probably cared about her to some extent because they were sleeping together. But…If the brunette could shake her head, she would. (She should not be having this discussion with herself in her drowsy, hazy pain medicated state) Connor nodded and Teddy left. 

Leaving her with her…something. Every word seemed inadequate to describe what Connor was to her and the term boyfriend was off-limits because Connor Rhodes wasn’t her boyfriend. Guys like him didn’t fall for girls like her. They had more than a friendship, but less than a relationship and Sarah wasn’t about to make it more than what it was.

 (Little did she know, it was more than what she thought it was. And Connor was going to make that perfectly clear to her fairly soon) 

Sarah opened her mouth as if to ask him a question, but her voice was still horse and a sudden coughing fit took over so the only noise that came out of her mouth was croaky or coughing. Connor moved quickly. Pouring a cup of water for her. Then placing a straw in the cup, he made his way back over to Sarah. 

“Small sips,” he told her, raising her bed so she was in a slightly upward position. He held the straw up to her mouth. While she sipped at her water, the brunette eyed the double-certified surgeon. His mused hair, bloodshot eyes, and rumpled clothing were reminiscent of the Connor Rhodes that walked through Med during Dr. Downey’s final days or when Robin had been in the hospital before they knew about her tumor and after when she was in recovery, Sarah thought Teddy might be right. Connor had stayed with her. 

“Good?” He asked her a few minutes later and she drew back a little in answer. So Connor took the cup away. Those powerful back muscles were on display to her, but she couldn’t properly enjoy the view like she usually would in a non-hazy state. Not with the questions swirling around in her head and her medicated state.

“You stayed with me,” her statement came out in the form of a question. Connor turned back to her, nodding as he made his way back to her. “Yeah,” 

“Why?” 

“Because I was worried and I didn’t want you to wake up by yourself.” He said his tone soft before he leaned in and pressed a kiss to her forehead. The familiar feeling of his lips against her skin was soothing in a way Sarah didn’t know she had needed till now. Apparently, the feeling was mutual because he lingered and breathed deeply as if he were taking her in. “You scared the hell out of me.” 

Then he pulled away, but he didn’t stray very far as he took the seat, opposite where Teddy had been by her bedside. Grabbing her hand in both of his, the former trauma surgeon asked, “How are you feeling? Any pain?”

Sarah blinked, noticing for the first time how small her hand looked in his. Then she realized he was waiting for her to answer. She yawned, “No, no pain. They must have me on good pain medication though.”

“Why do you say that?” 

“Because I can’t feel a thing and I’m high as a kite,” she yawned again and when she saw his look of confusion, she grinned lazily, “How many times have you held my hand in yours for any reason?”

“A lot?” Connor said in a confused tone. 

Sarah gave him a grin that was tinged with exhaustion, then she asked with a slight slur to her words as the medication started to pull her back under, “And I’m just now noticing how small my hand is sandwiched between yours.” 

Connor snorted. Her grin grew broader as she opened and shut her eyes slowly, “Don’t worry. I just sleep when I’m high and oh, I get real honest,”

Now he raised an eyebrow at her, “And you know this, how?”

“A story for another time,” she said, words still feeling foreign, and the story of her first and only experience with edibles was not one she needed to tell while feeling floaty on medication.

She blinked long and slow again as he brought her hand up to his lips. A sense of secondhand déjà vu hit her and she wasn’t sure why. But she knew she had seen Connor do this before with someone else, but Sarah couldn’t remember who. She knew it wasn’t her though. Her eyes fell closed. 

“I’m learning you have a lot of stories that you’ve been saving for another time,” he murmured against her skin and Sarah’s eyes drifted open once more to stare at him.

“Huh?” 

Connor sighed heavily, dropping her hand gingerly as he ran his hands through his hair. Now Sarah could see the pent-up tension that hid in his shoulders. “You know I was the doctor they paged for you?”

There had to be a reason Connor was telling her this but as she blinked again, longer and slower than before, she couldn’t see it. 

“Choi took Voight’s son-” Justin. Oh. Guilt manifested in her like a second itchy layer of skin that Sarah couldn’t scratch. She hadn’t thought to ask how Justin was once since she woke up. But her…Connor was continuing before she could ask if her best friend was okay. 

“-But Maggie paged me to work on you.”

Sarah's brow furrowed, “So you’re the one that took the bullet out of my neck?”

Her something laughed, but it was a sarcastic, harsh sound. “Bullets. Two of them. And God, no. I don’t think I could’ve been that strong. But Ava, for all her faults and ability to bust my balls, never let it get that far. She was the one who took those bullets out of you. In fact, she was pushing me back to the elevator so I wouldn’t see it was you. I didn’t even know you two were friends, something I feel like I should've known.” 

There had to be a reason why Connor was telling her all of this. So she asked him. 

 “You being wheeled in on that gurney made me realize that I don’t know anything about you. Not really. Not the small detail stuff at least. Will knew you were close with Detective Lindsay but that’s another thing I didn’t know. In all of our six months together, I don’t know anything about your past.”

Were you supposed to know that kind of stuff about an extended booty call?

“You really think that’s all you are to me?” Connor questioned in that low, serious tone of his. The tone he took when explaining treatment to a patient. The brunette realized that instead of keeping that question inside her head, she had spoken it out loud. By the tone and his body language, he was waiting for her to deny that’s what she thought. But Sarah’s voice was starting to hurt worse than when she woke up and she didn’t want to lie to him. So she blinked at him instead. 

“You are not an extended booty call,” Connor told her firmly after her beat of silence, but his tone was gentle, as his hand carded soothingly through her curls that had seen better days for sure. Then he huffed.

“We have a lot to talk about when you feel up to it. But baby,” and it wasn’t the pet name that made a shiver run down her spine because he had called her that before. Although that was part of that, but it was the tender way he spoke that really got her. The way his lips formed that gentle caress of words, “You are so much more to me than an extended booty call. So much more.”

Sarah went to respond but an owlish blink and the yawn that followed, told Connor just how much she was struggling to stay awake. He pressed another kiss to her hand, “Sleep baby. We can talk later. When you’re feeling better because I’m not going anywhere.”

Still, the curly-haired brunette continued to fight off sleep. Connor sighed softly, reaching up, he pressed the button so her bed was laying back once more. Then he allowed his thumb to rub soothing circles into her forehead. “Baby, I promise. I’ll be here when you wake up. Rest right now. You need it.”

She puckered her lips to him, waiting like usual for the kiss from him before she went to sleep. Huffing a small laugh, he raised an eyebrow at her. “If I kiss you, will you stop trying to fight falling asleep?” 

Sarah just blinked those doe-like eyes at him, continuing to wait for him to kiss her. Those eyes that had him wrapped her little finger. Her apparently high as a kite brown eyes. He had even said it himself. Connor chastised himself while he stood up and hovered over her slightly as he kissed her slowly and gently. His lips a whisper against hers.

“Go to sleep, baby.” He told her quietly when he pulled away. Usually, after he’d kiss her like this, Connor would run his nose down the length of her neck, breathing her in. She always seemed to smell like apples and vanilla. But that wasn’t an option with the hospital bed rails in the way. So he sat back down and grabbed her hand again. With one last long blink of her chocolate irises, her eyes finally drifted closed and stayed that way.

An extended booty call? Really? That’s all she thought she was to him? Nice going, Rhodes. He chastised himself as looked down at the woman in the hospital bed, who held his heart in her hands. This was his fault; he never even tried to put a label on what they were. He was too apprehensive after his relationship with Robin. 

In his head, he heard his sister saying she had told him so.

“Should we be concerned that just talking took that much out of her?” Teddy asked, ten minutes later when he came back and saw Sarah was sleeping once more, “Because it feels like we should be worried.”

“No, this is only her first time waking up. There are many factors for her exhaustion right now. Her body is still processing everything. Adrenaline and shock from the injury might be wearing off. Plus there’s the shock of waking up in the hospital. That’s a real thing. Plus she has the medication too that might be making her drowsy. And where her wound is located, talking could actually be causing some of her exhaustion because her wound is being agitated by her vocal cords.” Connor explained to the other man. 

“So this is normal?” Teddy asked, his eyes flicking back to Sarah. In this state, she seemed so small that she reminded him of the five-year-old she was, when they first met many years ago. He wanted to hug her tight and wrap her in bubble wrap.

“Yeah, it’s normal as she regains her strength and the injury heals. Now if we don’t see any improvement in about a month. Then we’ll be concerned. But right now, we’ll just be glad she woke up in no pain.” 

Speaking of…

“Thank you by the way.” When Sarah’s boyfriend or whatever he was looking confused, Sarah’s pseudo-brother continued, “For not telling her about Justin. I just thought it’d be better coming from someone else, his wife, my sister, or even Voight.”

“You aren’t close? Your sister said you were.” Connor asked as Sarah mumbled incoherently. Teddy’s eyes flicked up, thinking she had heard him but her eyes remained closed. The trauma surgeon shushed her gently as he ran a hand up and down her arm to soothe her.

“We were before I went away for a while…I ran away when I was thirteen. Sarah was eleven. Then we didn’t see each other again till last year. It’s been getting better but we still aren’t where we were.” 

“You’ve known Sarah since she was eleven?” Lindsay had said she knew Sarah for a long time, but since they were kids? Sure he had known Russell since he was fourteen but that was because of the store…

“Longer than that. Her dad brought her down here from New York when she was five. My mom and her dad were friends, I guess. They stayed with us for a while.” 

Five years old…But something else had also caught his attention.

“Sarah’s never mentioned her dad.” Connor thought aloud. Suddenly Teddy looked as if he said too much. Playing with his pierced lip, the blond-headed man reached behind him to rub his neck with a manicured hand, “She might not have thought it was important. As far as I know she hasn’t seen him since she was a kid. He kind of bailed out not long after that. In and out mostly. But I really think that’s more of a story that Sarah needs to tell you.”

Connor nodded a little dejectedly. He understood that. He would want to hear it from his lover’s lips anyway. 

“But wait…I thought Voight was her father? When he was here yesterday, he was talking to Sarah and he said he couldn’t imagine losing one kid, let alone two.” The surgeon said when he remembered Voight showing up yesterday. 

“Voight… has filled that father figure role in Sarah’s life for a long time now... I’m sure the next time she’s awake, you could ask her and she’d tell you Hank is her dad. But I think that’s all I’m going to say about that because it’s another story Sarah should be telling you.”

Blue eyes flicked down to his lover asleep once more. Her chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. There was not a doubt in his mind that he knew Sarah. At least where it counted. He knew what kind of person she was. He knew her heart. But he didn’t know the stories of what made her heart the way that he knew it.

“Now can I ask you a question?” The other man asked Connor, breaking his thought. He nodded. “Why did Sarah tell me she didn’t have a boyfriend when I mentioned you had been here?”

“Miscommunication and a misunderstanding. When she can keep her eyes open for more than thirty minutes, I’ll make it perfectly clear where I want to stand with her.” 

“Ooh, is Sarah going to be in trouble?” Teddy grinned at him and he snorted. The double-certified surgeon shook his head as he said, “More like I’m in trouble because the misunderstanding and communication was my fault and I’m too relieved she’s going to be okay for her to be in trouble for thinking what she was to me in this miscommunication.”

“That’s Sarah. Always taking on a view of pessimism, even when she was a kid.” Teddy told him with a slight huff of laughter, “Erin and I called her Eeyore all the time. It drove her nuts.” 

“Everyone who has visited her has said she’s been unflinchingly kind to them though. That’s not something you typically see in a person with pessimism.” Connor mentioned, thinking of Mulcalley. The floater paramedic was always seen with a different partner when he brought a patient to the ED because no one could stand under the dark cloud he cast for too long.  

The blond man shrugged, “What’s that saying about people who have never been shown kindness? They’re usually the kindest people around. And I think that the resident that committed suicide in her first year affected her.”

Did he mean Wheeler? He knew Sarah had blamed herself for his death to some extent but did she really internalize it that much?

“When she told me about it, she said you never knew what someone was going through. What could be the action that pushed a person over the edge and pulled them back from making that choice. So she was making a conscious effort to be the thing that pulls them away from that edge.”

Connor felt a surge of affection swell up inside of him. Once upon a time, he had told Sarah she couldn’t jump in and save everyone. But she was trying to prove him wrong.

[LINE BREAK]  [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK]

Hank Voight, Erin Lindsay, Olive, and the rest of the intelligence unit arrived together half an hour later. 

“I’ll go ahead and give you some time as a family,” Connor said, seeing the police unit hang back in the ward. 

“Hey man,” Jay Halstead called when the other man made his way out of the room, stopping by the nurses' station. He wanted to see if now that Sarah had woken up and wasn’t showing signs of restlessness, they could remove her neck brace. But he needed Ava’s okay first.

“Hey,” the surgeon said before he caught one of the nurses’ attention, “Can you page Dr. Bekker for me and ask her to come up to the ICU when she has a chance?”

“Of course, Dr. Rhodes.”  

“How’s she doing, Doc?” Attwater asked. Connor shrugged making his way over to the group, “I’m not her doctor but I’d say about as good as can be expected. She woke up with no pain and was a little hazy but mostly lucid and coherent. Seemed to know what happened and had no confusion. That’s why I’m having them page Dr. Bekker. I want to see if we can take the neck brace off of her...What about you? Tell me you have this guy.” 

“This asshat is sneaky. But we have his picture out everywhere. So it’s only a matter of time.” Ruzek told him. 

“We also have our tech guy running down all his last known addresses. Plus with Reese awake now, we can have a positive ID instead of just circumstantial evidence of this crime. Help our case even more.” Jay explained and moved his hands. A glance down saw the younger Halstead was holding a yellow folder.

“Would she have to testify with that though?” Connor asked in concern. 

“If Voight even lets it get that far,” Ruzek mumbled and Connor was sure he wasn’t supposed to hear it.

“Kid,” Olinksy said. He didn’t say anything else, but Connor thought could hear a warning in the other man’s voice. 

“What? You saw him today Al,” the officer was trying to quiet, but Ruzek wasn’t known for talking in whispers. “Everyone in our unit knows it’s probably not a far leap from that.”

“Kid,” now the warning was clear. No mistaking it, “Stop talking.”

There was a noise from behind them and the surgeon turned with the rest of the unit. Sarah was awake and was shaking her head, at least she was trying to as she kept forming one word. Connor wasn’t close enough to hear her, but he could tell from the context of her body language what she was saying. 

No.

“They just told her about Justin,” Antonio Dawson observed softly. 

“Yeah,” Alvin sighed while Connor watched with the rest of them as Sarah broke down in tears, still shaking her head as best as she could in her neck brace. Hank Voight gripped her head in both of his hands, his palms coming to rest over both her ears. He was saying something and then he hugged her as she continued to cry. A yearning stirred in him as he watched his lover sob into the police sergeant's shoulder. A yearning to rush in and fix everything for her. But there was nothing for him to fix. 

Death was one thing no one could fix.

[LINE BREAK]  [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK]

Sarah woke up to a warm hand on her forehead. She almost thought it was Connor but he had a more warm citrus kind of smell to him and the smell that wafted into her nose wasn’t that. Instead, the smell of burning wood mixed with a lingering scent of gunpowder reminded her of the security that she associated with home. She peeled an eye open to see Hank standing there. 

“Hey kid,” his gravelly voice was soft and gentle. She tried to smile up at him, before lifting her arm that still felt as if it were asleep to push the button so her bed was sitting up more. “How’re you feeling?”

“I’m a little-” she started to explain before a movement to her right caught her eye. She shifted her eyes since she couldn’t move her head in the neck brace. Teddy was still there, but now Erin and Olive were there as well. 

“Hey,” she shifted her body up on shaky limbs. Her hazy state sobered and zeroed in on Olive, “How’s Justin? I thought you’d be with him.” 

Instantly, Sarah felt something in the room shift. Her pseudo-sister, whose eyes were red and bloodshot, glanced at Olive, who had silent tears running down her cheeks. And Erin’s little brother wasn’t meeting her eyes. Unease crept inside her stomach and settled there.

“Is Justin going to be okay?” She asked, shifting her eyes to meet Hank’s again. He looked sad and weary. 

“Sarah,” Hank sighed heavily as if what he was about to say was too much to bear. If only Sarah knew how much that was true before he had to utter the words.  “…We-we pulled Justin off of life support yesterday. He passed…away not long after that.”

“No, no, no,” Sarah heard her own voice and it was still unrecognizable to her, but not like it had been earlier. Though it still was hoarse, there was now a steeliness to it. Conviction. Because Justin wasn’t dead. He wasn’t. He couldn’t be. Not when it was her that was always meant to be living on borrowed time. 

“When he was shot, it caused a catastrophic brain injury. They said he wasn’t going to wake up again,” Olive hiccupped as she tried to wipe away her tears, “He wouldn’t recognize us; he wouldn’t be able to talk to us and he’d be on feeding tubes and a ventilator the rest of his life. You know he wouldn’t have wanted that.”  

They were already talking about her best friend in the past tense. But he wasn’t gone. He couldn’t be. She started to shake her head. Or tried to. It was difficult with the neck brace she wore. And that’s when her tears and sobs started to come.

“No.” This was all her fault. If she hadn’t been there then maybe Justin could’ve run or…or if she had just listened-

“Sarah Athena,” her pseudo-father rumbled out her name. Then she felt his hands come to rest over her ears. Her teary-eyed gaze found his serious one. “Now you listen to me and you listen good. This is not your fault. None of this.” 

How could he say that when his son was gone and she was the one who survived? 

“No,” she sobbed again and that’s when he hugged her. Her wails were muffled against his shoulder. Hank shushed her, running his hand over the top of her head. 

“I know,” he told her quietly every time her shoulders shook. “I know. But the fact of it is that whether you were there or not…it probably wouldn’t have made a difference.”

Sarah sobbed harder.

“You being there with him…I know you were hurt too, Sarah. But at least he wasn’t by himself when it happened. Small mercies and all that.” Olive's wavering voice floated somewhere close to her ear. 

But Justin was still gone. Why was nobody blaming her for what happened but her? Couldn’t they see she was the reason Justin was dead? Why were they comforting her? She asked herself as her shoulders continued to shake. She didn’t deserve it. 

[LINE BREAK]  [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK]

Eventually, her tears slowed and stopped completely and when she pulled away from Hank, she just sat there feeling numb. Her family talked around her, to her. She was sure of it. But Sarah couldn’t tell anyone what was being said if she was asked. Or her detached responses. Everything was quiet and blurry to her. People-her patients-had compared being numb to time not moving. That wasn’t it though. Time was moving around her, but it was her that was still. 

A soft knock pulled her back to reality a little. Jay Halstead was in the room while the rest of the intelligence unit and Connor hung back by the door. Everyone that looked at her seemed sad or worried. She avoided their eyes in favor of staring at the wall. Then Jay was speaking, but Sarah couldn’t make out what was being said. It was like she was underwater. 

“Sarah?” Erin’s hand on her shoulder was soft and it broke the surface of the water keeping her under. Sarah looked at her pseudo-sister. 

Her face was calm and suddenly the curly-haired brunette was five-years-old again, crying for her Dad after a bad dream. But he hadn’t come. Instead, Erin did. Erin, who was only nine at the time, climbed into a bed too small for her and held Sarah. Had told her stories and calmed her down until Sarah fell back asleep. 

Erin’s tone even reminded her of those nights, “You’re not telling us anything we don’t already know. But a positive ID would do nothing but help us.” 

A photo array was placed in front of her. The man was there so she pointed to him. Erin, Hank, and Jay glanced between each other. Then Hank nodded, a look in his eyes that she had only seen once before. “Bingham. Let’s bring him in.” 

A look that did not bode well in her pseudo-father. The unit started to move, walking away from her room.

“Hank,” she tried to call him back. But he kept moving. She tried again, “Hank!”

He still kept going. The space grew more and more between them so she choked out the one word that was guaranteed to get him to turn around. Sarah had only used it a handful of times in the time she had known him. 

“Dad,” 

Her father figure stopped walking abruptly and stilled before he turned around to face her. As did everyone else following him. But the brunette was only looking at Hank. “Don’t let the world blow up. You’ve always said you’re with me till the world blows up. So, please. Do not go over the edge. I know it’s so easy too. I know it’s Justin... But please, this guy isn’t worth it. He’s not. Please. Do this the right way.”

Hank licked his lips as he considered her words before he said, “I’ll be back later. After we close this case. I promise.”

He still had that damned look in his eyes as he turned and stalked off; Erin following behind him as she called his name. So she turned to Alvin and Antonio for help. 

“Don’t let him go over the edge.” At her words, both men sighed sadly and glanced at each other. 

“Please,” she pressed. Antonio spoke first, “I think we’ve already gone past that point Sarah.”

“Bingham shot you and Justin.” Justin is dead, went unsaid as he continued, “Left you both in the trunk of that car. Hank isn’t just going to forget that. Speaking as a father, I wouldn’t.” 

Al told her all of this in that soft voice of his. But she could hear the sympathy in his tone.

“I wouldn’t either,” Antonio admitted quietly. Their words which were probably meant to comfort her, did nothing of the sort. Her eyes started to water again, but she swiped at her eyes stubbornly. 

“We’re sorry, kid,” Al told her. Antonio nodded, “We know it’s not what you want to hear.”

They left soon after. Antonio with a sympathetic look. He started to say, “I hope you feel-” Better.

But the detective stopped abruptly and fell silent. He looked guilty for a moment as if to suggest such a thing after what happened. Sarah didn’t hold it against Dawson though. It’s just what you said when someone was in the hospital. Then he sighed, “I’m sure you’ll get through this.”

Nodding at her, the detective made his way out of her room. Olinsky, who had known her since Erin became Hank’s C.I. ruffled her hair. Like he used to do when she was a kid. 

“It’ll work itself out, kid. Just maybe not the way anyone wants it to.” Then he turned and nodded at both Olive and Teddy and followed behind Antonio.

The silence was back and she could take that. But what she couldn’t take were sad eyes that still lingered. She didn’t deserve sadness and comfort. She deserved anger. Anger that should be directed at her because Justin had stood in front of her and now he was… She inhaled shakily.

Sitting up even more up so she could turn her body to face her pseudo-brother and sister-in-law; she told them, “You two should go home,”

Both of them started to protest but she held up her hand. She looked at Teddy first. “You said you’ve been here since this morning and I know you don’t sleep on public transportation. You have keys to all over our places. Use them and find somewhere to sleep. I’m-” 

The brunette almost said she was okay. But that wasn’t right. She cleared her throat, “I’m here and I’m not going anywhere. Four hours minimum won’t hurt you.”

Her eyes shifted to Olive, “Who has the little monster right now?”

“Tucker,” Justin’s best friend since middle school.

“Oh, I bet Autumn is having a field day with that.” Sarah huffed a barely there laugh, despite why they were having this conversation and Olive laughed watery, nodding her head. Then sobered as quickly as the laughter has come.

“We haven’t told her about anything yet, he wants to find a way to explain it that is age appropriate. Right now she thinks it’s just a very long play-date. Tuck said he’d keep him till I got back and then he’d be by to see you after Autumn went to sleep later tonight.”  

“Go and be with Danny. He’s probably confused.” She told Olive softly, “He’s not used to being away from either of you for more than a day right? He’s going to need you now more than ever.”

“We don’t want you by yourself, Sarah. Stop trying to isolate yourself.” Teddy said after sharing a look with Justin’s wife. From the look also in Olive’s eyes, she knew what Sarah was trying to do too. 

“I’m just sitting here. There’s really nothing you can do.” Sarah continued to protest as Connor said from his place in the doorway, “I’ll be here with her. She won’t be by herself.”

They shared another look and Teddy nodded with a small shrug. Justin’s wife met her eyes once more and she nodded. Then she reached down and squeezed the brunette’s hand. “Okay, we’ll leave. But we know what you’re doing and Sarah, no one blames you for what happened.”

Except for herself.

“This isn’t your fault. Come on, Teddy, if you want you can come with me.”

“And can you tell Tucker that tonight isn’t the best time to visit me? I’m just…a little overwhelmed and not the best company right now.”

The frown on Olive’s face deepened a little at Sarah’s words but nodded her reluctant acceptance without any protest as she and Teddy made their way out of the hospital room. 

[LINE BREAK]  [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK]

Then it was just her, the numbing silence, and Connor. She broke the silence in a quiet, almost inaudible voice, “You really don’t have to stay. I’m sure I can occupy myself for a while. You can go home or go back to work.”

“You know if I didn’t know any better, I’d say Teddy is right and you’re trying to push everyone out of here.” His voice was trying to be light but it missed its mark because that’s what she was trying to do. She was trying to isolate herself.

“I want to and besides everyone, myself included, don't think you should be alone right now. We don’t even have to talk if you don’t want to.” 

“I’m-” Fine. She cut herself off, grinding her teeth together as she fisted the fabric of her hospital blanket. Sarah was about to say she was fine but that wasn’t true. There was a hole in the side of her neck and her best friend was gone. She looked down at her lap. It was her fault. No matter what anyone said Justin was gone because of her.

Connor remained silent and waited because he didn’t want to push her. All he could do was remain there and remind her that he was there for her.

“Connor, they said you requested they page me? Is something wrong?” Ava entered the room in a hurry, breaking the mournful silence, and then brightened when she saw her patient was awake, “Reese, it’s good to see you awake.” 

Then why didn’t it feel like it? Sarah questioned in her head as she resisted the urge to pull the covers back over her head like she did this…Wait. Yesterday morning. It was yesterday morning because she had slept through the day yesterday. Teddy had said he had only gotten there this morning. Guilt pooled once more in her stomach at the thought of Justin passing and her blissfully unaware. Her fists were almost white as the hospital blanket she had in her grip.

When Reese didn’t respond, Ava looked at Connor, who studied his lover for a moment. His gaze moved to look at the blonde, who was imploring him silently for some information. He mouthed the word: Justin. Her eyes widened as he cleared his throat and explained why he had her paged. Ava nodded, sliding her doctor mask back into place, “Okay, thanks. Sarah, I’m going to check you out again. Now that you’re awake and can let me know if you have any concerns then we can remove the neck brace.”

“Rhodes,” the surgeon addressed him snarkily, “Go get a cup of coffee or something.” 

Connor held back a slight chuckle. He knew what she was doing. His partner in the field was trying to give his lover a sense of normalcy and Ava was busting his balls. That was normal. 

And there was also the fact that now that they knew Sarah was going to be okay, Ava’s kind of truce with him was over and Ava’s regular sarcastic and snarky attitude toward him was back in full force. He couldn’t believe he was saying this, but it was a welcome change. Ava being back to normal with him meant his Sarah was on the upswing. 

Still, he looked at the curly-haired brunette in the hospital bed. Though he knew why his colleague was shooing him from the room, that didn’t make his reluctance to leave any easier. Especially with Sarah being so quiet and withdrawn now. He understood why she acting this way, but That didn’t mean he had to like it. Unclenching her fists from the blanket as gently as he could; he leaned in and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll be back.”   

He left and came back thirty minutes later with an energy drink in hand, stopping just by the nurse’s station when he saw Ava still there. But Sarah no longer had her neck brace and the female heart surgeon looked to be just about done. She was raising the bed rail as she told the curly-haired brunette, “You don’t even have to finish it. I just want you to attempt a smoothie. See how it goes.”

When her patient remained silent, Connor heard Ava sigh and give an ultimatum. “I don’t want to Reese, but you said all you had yesterday was half a protein bar for breakfast. I understand you’re not hungry and can even understand it. But you know your body needs nutrients to heal. It’s either you try a smoothie or I hook you up to an IV. I won’t have you getting dehydrated.”

“Okay.” Sarah agreed in a quiet voice. Ava continued in a softer voice, “And I’ll send a nurse in with something to put on your wrists to help with the itching so they don’t get more irritated.”

His lover nodded mutely. Ava made to leave, but Connor saw her turn back at the last minute and heard her speak quietly, and sincerely. “I am sorry about Justin Voight, Sarah.” 

Sarah looked back up, tears gathering in her eyes. “Me too.” 

Ava left the room and caught sight of him standing by the nurses' station. Making her way over to him she sighed quietly. “She’s claiming she’s not hungry, but she hasn’t eaten in a day, almost two now. And not much at that.”

Connor nodded because knew the protein bars Sarah was so fond of for breakfast. He had taken to keeping them in stock for her in his kitchen. On a good day, she ate two back-to-back to fill herself up because they really weren’t that big, to begin with. 

Ava continued, “And I know they couldn’t keep it from her. She has a right to know. Justin Voight is dead. But I just wished I had gotten here sooner to put something on her stomach before her grief had a chance to set in. Her body needs the sustenance to help her heal.”

“I’ll try to get her to drink the smoothie when it’s brought up,” Connor reassured her. The blonde nodded, “It’s either that or I have give her an IV and I figure you’ll apply the ointment to her wrists too.”

“Aloe Vera with lidocaine for the pain?” He asked. It’s what he would give Sarah. She nodded once more, “I can’t wrap them. They’re too agitated to bandage. A wound like that needs to breathe.”

“Anything else I need to know before I go back in there?”

Ava shrugged. “She asked if we could switch her medication? Something to make her feel less floaty? Her words, not mine. I’m going to look into it, but I’m not sure what else to give her that would subside the pain as well as the one she’s on now. I also redressed the bandage on her neck.”

[LINE BREAK]  [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK] [LINE BREAK]

Sarah had her arms wrapped around her knees and her forehead pressed to them when he came back. Touching her back softly, he pointed out to her gently. “You’re going to agitate your wound if you sit like that too long.” 

The brunette inhaled and exhaled a shaky breath before she allowed him to coax her to lean back against the bed properly. There were tears in her eyes, but she rubbed at her face roughly. As if sheer force would be enough to remove any evidence of her crying. 

But Connor didn't understand why she was fighting her feelings. He bit back a sigh. There was a reason he was a surgeon and not a psychiatrist. Still, he found himself saying, “Sarah, I know-”

“No you don’t.” She mumbled. He nodded as he fell silent, not wanting to push her but he squeezed her hand. A silent offer. Rubbing at her nose, she started to explain. 

“It was supposed to be me. I was always meant to be the one living on borrowed time. Not Justin.”  At his alarmed expression, she raised a hand to stop the concerns he was bound to have from how quickly his mouth opened. “I know how that sounds okay? Just let me try to explain okay?” 

An uneasy look settled in his blue eyes, but Connor nodded hesitantly. She continued, “Hank and his wife took Erin and me in when we were kids. I was eleven. Before that my childhood was rough and I know you’ll have more questions later, but for now, we’ll just leave it at that. Rough. Rough enough that on my first day in their house, I was angry and scared. Angry because I was too young to know that the guy, Erin and I had been staying with previously was a scumbag. And scared because I thought this was my last stop before Erin and I were split up. I thought I was putting up a good front though.”

She paused slightly while her eyes moved to look at her lap. “Justin though…he saw right through me.  He told me his parents, his Dad would keep me safe. And I told him…” 

A humorless laugh passed through her lips, “I told him it wouldn’t matter, because being the cynical eleven-year-old I was, I thought I wouldn’t live past my sixteenth birthday. I was just living on borrowed time and being safe for a week, maybe two wouldn’t make a difference.” 

“Oh, Sarah,” Connor whispered, not quite believing what he was hearing. But his heartbreaking all the same. Sarah shook her head as he moved so he was sitting on the edge of her hospital bed. Reaching out, he cupped her face and rubbed her cheeks soothingly as her tears fell silently. 

“I know it’s fucked up. I knew it was fucked up to begin with, because what eleven year doesn’t think they’ll live to see their sixteenth birthday? But it’s how I felt at the time. Do you know what I thought when the gun was pointed at me? When the safety clicked off?”

Connor didn’t answer. He didn’t know how to but that’s okay because it was a rhetorical question. 

I thought that I had been right. I was just living on borrowed time, I just got when I was going to die wrong.  And now, with Justin gone, I have that damned conversation stuck in my head. On repeat, because I was the one who said I was living on borrowed time. Not him. Not when he just had a kid and was in a really good place. It was supposed to be me and the only damn reason it wasn’t…is because he tried to protect me.”

“Baby,” he whispered, still rubbing at her cheeks soothingly. He didn’t tell her anything was going to be okay. It’s not what she needed right now and Connor didn’t think she’d hear him anyways.  

“It was supposed to be me,” she sobbed and he dropped his hands from her face in favor of moving farther up the bed. Careful not to agitate her wounds or any of the wires attached to her, he wrapped his arm around her shoulder. Curling himself very delicately into her good side, he hugged her tight as he was willing to with her injuries.

“It was supposed to be me,” she repeated the sob, turning her head into his neck. With each wail of sadness, his body shook. But Connor endured it because Sarah needed him to be her rock right now. She needed someone to just be there. So Connor would be that for her right now. That unmovable force.

“It was supposed to be me,” she sobbed over and over, breaking his heart a little more each time. Still, he held her, whispering soothing nonsense in her ear. But never telling her it would be okay or anything close to it. It would be with time of course, but she didn’t need to hear that right now. 

Right now, she just needed him to just hold her and be her rock. Everything else could wait for later.