#they shouldn't have tried to revive it

[bragganhyl]

Gonna go get my ass handed to me by the Master Below you guys want anything?

[wildandsmile]

Can you do upper moons with a bratty reader like if they doesn’t get what they wants they act out ? (Nsfw pls) btw I love your writings.

𝓢𝓹𝓲𝓬𝔂

Tw: Blood

Kinks: f-reviving, overstim, figuring, exhibitionsm, name calling, brat taming, cock sleeve, thigh riding, impact play, brush play, knife play, Dom Gyutaro (for once)

Word Count: 1.8k

Note: I appreciate the compliment and the suggestion, so I hope you enjoy this

Come back for Hantengu, Nakime,Daki and Kaigaku

Enjoy!

Kokushibo

Maintains a predominantly quiet demeanor, prompting you to playfully provoke him during your joint missions in order to coax him into conversation.

Most often, it proves ineffective, prompting your resourceful nature to explore alternative approaches, sometimes inadvertently exposing your cover or even unnecessarily harming a human or two.

You anticipated provoking a reaction from him, yet he chose to maintain his silence, unaffected.

Unbeknownst to you, he was meticulously tallying each minor error you had committed throughout the evening.

As you at last return to the estate, you sense his hands enveloping the back of your neck, his voice a hushed murmur, "Now that we've returned, it’s time for your punishment."

You whimpered, "Koku no more, no more pls" as your trembling hands tried to push him away from your now overstimulated clit, but he was letting up; he'd been at it for hours. At first, he'd made you look him in the eyes while he licked long laps across your slicked folds, but when he realized that was too much for you to handle, he decided to be a little nice He continues, "Come on darling, don't tell me that I've already fucked you stupid on my tongue" as he glides his mouth over your dripping cunt, making you flinch from the sensation of his hot breath against your cunt. As you groan and writhe on the bed, "Pls Koku pls" comes out of your mouth, and Kokushibo promptly stops you by pushing your hips into the mattress with one hand and bringing down hard with the other to spank your ass. Kokushibo says, "Come now darling don't be bratty just tell daddy what you want." You resist at first, but then you hide your eyes with your arm and give in. "Please koku, please just fuck me already," you beg, as he plants a kiss on your thigh, followed by a hasty "If that's what you want, darling."

Doma

Was a little different in his approach to dealing with your spoiled behavior, which consisted mostly of embarrassing you at the upper moon meetings

Typically, the two of you would assume positions on opposite sides, but whenever you displayed misbehavior or didn't provide the desired level of attention he wanted , he would promptly position you right beside him.

Initially, you didn't perceive these occurrences as problematic, assuming he would overlook your attitude, but your assumption couldn't have been further from the truth.

The instant Muzan appeared, silence blanketed the room. Sensing the opportunity, Doma deftly exploited the moment, discreetly slipping his hand into your dress.

You try to stifle a moan as you say, "Doma, please stop—we're having a meeting right now." Despite your pleading, he pumps his fingers deep inside you, curling them each time they touch your sweet spot. You started to respond, but Doma's thumb found your swollen clit and began rubbing sloppy circles, prompting you to grab on to his thigh for support. "You shouldn't be worried about me sweetheart, you should be focused on Lord Muzan," he says with a sadistic grin covering his face. You looked Doma straight in the eyes and pleaded, "Doma pls, stop I'm about to cum." But you had no idea that your pathetic expression and crocodile tears were only making Doma more enthusiastic. Finally, the conference is over, and Doma pulls you up into him roughly; upon standing, you tumble into his arms, at which point he bursts out laughing. His figure is covered in your juices, and he displays them to you while saying, "You know for such a bratty girl you sure fall apart like a dirty slut," and then he licks his palm clean and adds, "You know this is just the start of your punishment right sweetheart."

Akaza

Dedicated to continuous training, striving to overcome the Upper Moon One, Kokushibo, alongside the Hashiras.

Often, when you were seeking emotional reassurance or craving attention, it seemed elusive, leading to moments of emotional turmoil prompting your occasional acting out.

Primarily, you would engage in playful teasing during his workout sessions. Whenever he initiated his routine, you'd position yourself nearby, playfully bending and assuming various poses, catching his gaze and providing him with quite the view.

But what really got under his skin was hearing you groan while stretching, saying things like, "O these feels so good" or "I wish I had something that would stretch me out better."

Akaza, possessing zero tolerance for impudence, promptly halted his training. Striding over to you, he swiftly lifted you and carried you to his weightlifting area. Settling down, he positioned you on his muscular thigh, his strength and presence palpable.

You had been sitting on Akaza's thigh for some time after he encouraged you to "earn" his attention if you wanted it. You've spent the entire day craving an ogasm, and now you're dragging your clothed cunt across his flexed thigh to get it. Every time you felt that knot from within your stomach, you would start thrusting, basically humping his leg, and your cunt was throbbing and your clit was all nice and puffy, but this wasn't enough. You decide you need more and work your way down Akaza's thigh to his hard cock, but just as you're about to start touching it, he lets out a long groan and says, "Didn't I tell you that you had to earn this cock, you dirty slut?" You try to protest, but he stops you with a hard slap on the ass. Akaza says with a deep groan, "Brats like you don't get to talk back is that understood." You let out a small yes and go back to trying to make yourself cum by humping his thigh, but he finally had enough of your feeble attempts and bent you over his work table, ripped your pants off, and said, " I guess I'll have to fuck you silly like the brat you are since you can't even make yourself cum properly.”

Gyokko

Similar to Akaza, Gyokko remained unwaveringly dedicated to his tasks. When not engrossed in his work, his attention was invariably directed towards Lord Muzan.

Describing your relationship as more akin to that of a master and a devoted companion is a more accurate portrayal than labeling it as a romantic bond.

Typically, this would trigger your bratty behavior; however, unlike the other Upper Moons, it was notably effortless to provoke a reaction from him.

You'd frequently locate him in his chamber, engrossed in creating new artwork. To playfully ruffle his feathers, you'd comment on his latest piece, suggesting it was exceptionally impressive or innovative.

This would lead to a hint of frustration, prompting him to restart. However, your antics wouldn't end there; you'd venture into his collection, identifying something seemingly new, only to critique it with remarks like "It was an eyesore" or "Breaking it was a favor—it was painfully ugly." This chain of actions often culminated in pushing him to his breaking point.

In no time, you found yourself forcefully propelled onto the bed, and in that very instant, a sense of anticipation gripped you, indicating that you were in for an intense encounter.

Gokkyo warns you not to move lest he "mess up" as he runs the long brush across your tender nubs: "Stand still if you keep moving I'll mess it up." Because you ruined his painting, Gokkyo decided to use you as a canvas. Naked, you watched as he dragged the brushes across your icy flesh. It was causing your cunt to throb so much that you tried to close your legs together, but Gokkyo swiftly spread them out and pressed you even deeper into the mattress with his hand. By this time, you were writhing in pain from the combination of the brushing and Gokkyo's cold hand on your naked body, so he eventually dragged the brush down to your aching cunt and flipped it over to the dull side to massage your clit. You can hear him saying, "This is what you wanted right, for me to give this naught cunt some attention right" as he presses the brush firmly against your clit and begins to flick it up and down on his brush. You started to want more, so you clung to his forearm and moaned gently. Please elaborate. After quickly extracting his cock and aligning it with your soaping moist hole, Gyokko leaned in and murmured something in your ear. “Since you're not fit for artistic purposes, I'll just use you as a filthy cock sleeve.”

Gyutaro

Gyutaro diverged slightly from the other Upper Moons in his perspective. To him, the term "brat" signified an irritating child, making it challenging for him to perceive you in that light.

He consistently presumed your behavior was a result of a passing mood swing or that he might have inadvertently provoked your anger.

During a meeting of the Upper Moons, Doma initiated a discussion about his partner's mischievous behavior, referring to them as a "brat."

As Gyutaro listened to Doma's words, a transformation occurred within his mindset. Gradually, a growing anger took hold of him. He realized that you had been purposely avoiding him, refraining from his touch as part of your playful strategy to act out and grab his attention.

All you needed to do was express your desire; he found it impossible to refuse someone as beautiful as you. The realization that he had been contemplating seeking Daki's assistance in this situation only intensified his anger.

Gyutaro snatched you away from his sister the moment he returned from the meeting and hurried you into your shared bedroom. It didn't take long for you to freeze up after hearing Gyutaro exclaim, "This is what you wanted right to get punished to be pounded by my cock" as he licked the nape of your neck. And lucky for you, Gyutaro was enjoying watching your gorgeous eyes water and your hips try to stop bucking since you didn't want to cut yourself on his sickle. He warns, "You better stop moving, princess, or I might just cut you" as he draws a thin line of blood from your thigh with the blade of his knife. Gyutaro had never felt so hot in his life; ordinarily, you would be the one on top of his, but while the two of you were going at it, your stunning good looks and flawless physique were enough to render him helpless. So now that he had you where he wanted you, he had no intention of letting you go. Gyutaro whispers to you as he licks your hot tears from your cheeks, "Hehe you know princess you look a pretty when cry and you look even better when my hands are around your throat." His hands wrap neatly around your neck, gripping it just tight enough to where you could breathe if you worked hard enough. Your moaning was the result of Gyutaro ripping your clothing off with his sickle, quickly aligning his cock with your cunt, and then slamming his entire cock within. “Now that I have you here, Princess, I might as well make you as hideous as me, heh heh.”

[strelitzia-mystery1097]

What killed Macaque?

Well I was going to link my first post about this but I... can't find it. Like I checked over and over and tumblr keeps telling me I made no post about lmk which... is weird. I don't know if it was deleted or it's buried in the internet but that's... fine. Just kind of annoying that I can't find my own post.

Anyways I guess I should recap.

I have never liked the theories of 'Wukong didn't actually kill Macaque' or 'LBD changed Macaque's memories' or anything like that.

But also don't like when everything is blamed on Wukong and those Wukong haters and/or Macaque 'did nothing wrong' fans paint the whole situation as solely Wukong's fault.

Did Wukong make bad choices and mistakes. Yes.

But so did Macaque.

Their fallout is both their faults.

Macaque from season 4 is able to understand that the Brotherhood were on a path of destruction and were doomed but the Monk was able to lead Wukong down a different path.

But remember we saw in the scroll that the Brotherhood during the jttw believed that Wuking was a traitor and it was only Macaque not fully 100% believing it.

We know in the og jttw Macaque was less of his own character and more of a dark reflection of Wukong. But even then we shouldn't dismiss entirely what jttw Macaque did (except for cooking a Flower Fruit Mountain monkey because I think lmk would not make Macaque be so friendly with the FFM monkeys if that was canon in lmk).

Jttw Macaque impersonated Wukong, beat up the Monk, stole the group's supplies, took over Flower Fruit Mountain, declared that he was going to do the journey with the scriptures himself, and then got into a really long fight with the real Wukong and literally like only 2 people were able to tell who's the real one (Budda and like this lie detecting bull from the underworld?), and when Budda reveals Macaque's true form Wukong kills him.

So clearly some things will be different.

But I do believe that lmk Macaque would pretend to be Wukong and would try to befriend the Monk like in the jttw. Because Macaque at this point would try and figure out what's going on.

The last time he talked to the Monkey King they had a fight. So that's probably why he just doesn't ask Wukong directly.

Also we should probably account for how emotional and potentially unstable Macaque probably is at this point if his best friend is back and working for the enemy for some reason.

So he tries to figure out that reason. But the thing is that when Macaque pretends to Wukong, it's after a major fight between Wukong and the Monk so the kind Tang Sanzang is just not wanting to deal with Wukong even after he's being nice.

So all Macaque sees is this rude and mean Monk that bosses Wukong around. So yeah he beats the $hit out of this ungrateful Monk.

Plus he would extra angry if he knows about how the Monk uses the Circlet on Sukong and hurts his best friend to discipline him.

Then cut to Wukong finally fighting Macaque.

Wukong has learned to be better and is probably seeing how the Brotherhood and his past deeds were not great, and Macaque was a part of that past.

Macaque is probably extremely upset that Wukong is taking the Monk's side and is just abandoning and leaving him again. No it's worst, he's turning on Macaque to stop him.

So this fight is probably extremely emotionally harrowing, with both of them not communicating and just having breakdowns and/or shoving down their true wants.

I mean in season 5 from the glimpse we see of the fight, Wukong is begging Macaque to not do this while Macaque is just laughing. So yeah he's probably have a complete breakdown and is hiding it under his dramatic b%tch persona he perfects after his revival to not be vulnerable.

One way this could end is Wukong accidently killing Macaque in a fit of rage or to protect his new family. Instead of killing his dark reflection he's killing his past.

But I also saw this interesting theory by @Cherllyio where Macaque's weird probably chaos related powers + him losing control of himself and his emotions while having a breakdown = Macaque self destructing literally.

I definitely hope that whatever the answer ends up being, that it's a situation where there's blame on both sides. That it was a messy situation and there's regret and pain (sudden LBD flash) but now if they wanted to, the two can finally... talk.

[emepe]

— Pairing: Eren x Reader, friends to lovers

— General info: series, 18+, modern AU, serial killer AU, smut, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort

— Summary: Fate is a tricky thing. Certain situations can’t be avoided as much as certain people’s lives can’t be kept from intertwining. With a serial killer on the loose, and unexpected relationships blooming, how will the universe intervene?

— Chapter summary: The first 48 hours are crucial when a person goes missing. Eren can only pray it’s enough to reach you..

— Content warnings: emetophobia, mention of assault.

— Notes: Helloooo!!! Welcome to TV Friday number 12 <3 I thought about posting earlier but I thought best to keep up our little tradition ^^ Please read the notes at the end for extra notes about TV’s future. Don’t be shy to stop by my ask box <3 If anyone else would like to be added to the tag list, lmk. Happy reading!

Links: Read on AO3 | Chapter guide | Masterlist

Forty-eight hours

Hour One

A missed call shouldn't have been enough to raise an alarm, but his gut instantly told him something was wrong. And yet he tried his best to remain calm — stepped out onto the street and made his way to the bus stop where you should've been dropped off, glancing into convenience stores just in case, hopeful that the bus was just running a little late. But when the bus you would've taken showed up — allowing Eren some time to sigh in relief and shake his head at his own presumptions — and you were nowhere to be found among the few people to scatter onto the sidewalk, it only confirmed that previous gut feeling.

Hour Two

Inhale. Hold. Exhale. 

Inhale. Hold. Exhale.

Inhale. Hold. Exhale.

There's a stiffness to Eren's breathing that makes the process more painful than its intended effects — his lungs feel too big for his ribs, which seem to be pressing them against his heart, pushing his brain into hyperactivity to keep him from imploding.

Where does he even start? Where should he even go?

If there's a proper protocol to follow to find you, he's no idea of it and he's strangely aware that his anxiety might lead him in the wrong direction when there's so much he has to do — so many places he has to be — at once. It's infuriatingly difficult to not have a cool head when you really need it.  

He didn't think to bring his car — perhaps it's for the best, considering his vision continues to blur and it's not a sign of good condition to hear your own frantic heartbeat pounding in your ears. 

His eyes anxiously scan the faces of every person in his path. Paired with his dazed footing and the sick expression on his face revived every couple of minutes from the nausea stemming from some sort of sensed doom that he continuously swats away, there hasn't been a shortage of odd looks and aversions since he ventured into the dark streets in hopes to find you fine and well out of thin air.

It's been too long to dismiss as a casualty since his calls stopped going through, and yet he insists on redialing your number each time he's met with the automated message that only further fuels his dreadful symptoms, hopeful that your voice will reach his ears again, for that comforting sound to put an end to the infernal crescendo of his insides. 

Just as he's about to redial once more, his phone starts buzzing first, and for a split second his body is at peace and his heart soothed in the spare moment that it takes for him to accept the call and bring the phone to his ear. 

“Have you heard from her yet?” 

The voice on the other end causes his stomach to plummet to his feet for what feels like the tenth time tonight.

It takes a moment for his brain to assimilate that it's not you on the other end and another for him to hate himself for not checking who was calling and stupidly spit a response to an Armin who has no fault in anything, especially for not being you.

Armin, as understanding as ever and assuming the more collected role for Eren's sake, dismisses the frustrated tone in his friend's voice, fully aware it's nothing personal. 

“The security guard says she left a little over an hour ago and Mika called me a minute ago and said she hasn't been home. Are you sure she wasn't going to make any stops on the way?” 

“No, Armin, she would've told me. She would've come here first or she would've at least texted me.” Eren's voice cracks. “Something is wrong.” 

The weakness in Eren's voice is enough to fracture Armin's composure for a fraction of a second.

“Let's go to Levi.”

Hour Three

Being in the police station feels more reassuring than Eren would've imagined. At least this means he's doing something — and something right, at that — and the drive over spared him enough time to ease his nerves, even just a little, as he continued to repeat inwardly to himself that everything is going to be fine. 

Time is everything and frankly, he can't help but feel a bit dumb for not thinking about getting some help from Levi in the first place. He'll find out what's going on — if there was an accident, if you got mugged and that's why no calls go through, or even if your bus broke down and that's why he hasn't seen you when he should have by now. Even if it turns out to be a misunderstanding, better to cause a scene than to sit on his hands. Though three hours without any sign to say otherwise can't be a misunderstanding. 

Eren hunches over, resting his forehead on the edge of Levi's desk, not minding one bit as it digs a dent into his skin. His knee bounces every couple of minutes as he and Armin wait for Levi to get back to them. 

“Eren Jaeger?” 

He looks up to find a tall blond man instead of Levi. 

“Yes?” 

“I'm Captain Erwin Smith. Come this way please.” 

Eren stands to follow the man's lead, only sparing a nervous glance to Armin, who replies with a comforting one from his seat, only morphing into a more accurate depiction of his worry once Eren turns his back to him.

“Where's Levi?” 

Eren's eyes wander the barren space he's been led into. Nothing but a table and a pair of chairs set opposite of each other. 

“He'll be here in a moment. I just want to ask you some more questions about the missing person's report you're filing.” 

“Of course.”

Doing his best to hold in his exasperation at the ticking clock in his head, he dutifully replies to every question he's already answered for Levi when he first walked into the station — what made him come to the station, his relation to you, your description, what happened before he lost contact with you, amongst other basic things to paint a picture of the situation.

“Was there ever any trouble in your relationship?” Erwin asks.

Eren's brow furrows.

“What do you mean?” 

“I'm asking if there was any indication that your girlfriend,” he makes a vague motion with his hands as he reads your name from the folder in his hands, “might’ve been upset with the relationship. Did you ever argue or have any trouble? Perhaps something in the past few days? Or ever?” 

Eren hardens his jaw in an attempt to remain calm. He knew he'd have to spend a while at the station, answering questions more than once — as frustrating as the lengthy process could be, he expected that much. 

Erwin's tone has remained neutral for the entirety of the questioning, and it's only natural to want to rule out any immediate suspects, but it doesn't make the implication of the captain's words any less offensive and borderline cruel. 

“No,” Eren chokes out, horrified by the mere idea that either of you would walk away without warning. That isn't you. 

“So no reason for her to break off contact with you.”

“She didn't break off contact,” Eren spits, growing heavily frustrated at the sudden turn of events. “We were supposed to meet, she was on her way already. I saw her just this morning and she called me first to tell me she was coming home.”

“Maybe she only said that to throw you off?”

“What are you trying to say?”

“Just tell me what you might think,” Erwin replies, voice stern. “You say it's only been three hours since you last heard from her but she's a mentally stable, healthy adult. Unless she has any conditions that could put herself or others in danger, chances are she's safe and sound somewhere and this is all a misunderstanding. Was there anything suspicious or weird about her?”

Eren's shake of his head grows more and more frustrated as Erwin does little to conceal his skepticism, which only shapes as a misunderstanding from Eren's increasingly impatient point of view.

“What's suspicious and weird is that she never made it to our date at all and it's been three hours and I haven't gotten a single word from her.”

Eren's expression is one of pleading, yet Erwin's remains neutral and made of marble.

“And it's not like that,” Eren murmurs. “I was going to ask her to live with me tonight. She called me after she left work to tell me she was on her way.” Eren can feel his heartbeat start to pick up as his ribcage begins to close in on his lungs once more as more anxious words continue to spill from his mouth in increasing pace and volume. “She told me she had news and that she loves me. Why would she tell me that if anything was wrong? Why would she say that if she wasn't going to make it to our date?” The crack in his voice comes at the same time as the stinging sensation behind his eyes and the uncomfortable tickle in his nose. “I was making dinner for us. I had this whole thing planned. I wanted to surprise her with all her favorite food and the pictures from the new apartment. I wasn't going to tell her about the pink bathtub because I want it to be a surprise when we move in. She…” He curls against the table, hands gripping his hair in frustration, pulling at the strands to make sure he still feels something because there are just too many sensations overwhelming him as he tries to get through to the man in front of him. “She really wants a pink bathtub.” 

Eren doesn't lift his gaze, just remains quiet and unmoving until he catches a flicker of movement in front of him. It's only when he takes the tissue offered by Erwin that he becomes aware of the tears streaming down his face. 

Levi nearly had a heart attack when he first caught eye of Eren's and Armin's familiar faces walking into the police station. The frantic green eyes and anxious expressions made it clear something awful had happened and hot flashes of searing dread burned inside his stomach. That is until nobody pronounced his niece's name. After that, the flame of pain withered to ashes of guilt, consuming him from the inside in such a manner that it was hard to face his niece's friends knowing he'd felt relief it wasn't his family who'd been affected tonight. 

Levi's known Eren since he was a kid — a bit childish and whiny, but ultimately a decent man with a kind heart. It's been a pleasure watching him grow up and knowing he's remained a good friend to his niece. 

Levi's only met you once. It was at Jean and Mikasa's engagement party earlier this year. If Jean and Mikasa were the happiest couple there, you and Eren were a close second. It was easy to know just how much he adored you, and how attached you were to him. Eren was rarely in a dark place, but next to you his smile was blinding. 

After finding out Erwin conducted the interrogation to rule out a possible runaway case — and how he did it — he still hadn't ridden himself of enough guilt to apologize for making the situation more stressful, no matter what the rules say. 

It's no secret some sudden disappearances hold more danger than others. An abducted child, an older person with dementia, a mentally and emotionally unstable person who's looking to cause harm to others or themselves — they demand a higher sense of urgency than logging the missing person into the system and following up when there's nothing more pressing on the police's plate.

The desperation consuming Eren's features when Levi finally walks into the interrogation room is enough to kick off his own instincts. 

It's upon Levi's insistence that patrols are dispatched immediately. 

Hour Five

When a loved one's safety is on the line, any efforts from authorities never seem to be enough and yet one remains oddly hopeful that the people with a proper protocol should know how to better handle situations that leave one frantic and lost. 

Calls to the nearest hospitals, pings from cellphone towers, two patrols dispatched to the last known location and its surroundings, questions to potential witnesses who have nothing to report or are rather too invested to go back to whatever keeps their attention inside to provide some detailed tips, one patrol leaving because of a nearby break-in and the remaining one left with nothing more to go off of than one grainy clip of CCTV footage that shows your figure walking down the street, and a second clip from a convenience store's outside surveillance camera where you don't show up at all, but the lack of witnesses lead to nothing in between. 

Keeping up the search when there's been nothing gained starts proving to be more difficult when obstacles continue to pile on. Aside from the growing boredom of those in police cars from the lack of fresh information to keep them motivated, the heavy clouds that hover over everyone's head threatens for the case to soon be abandoned for the night. 

Hour Eight

Levi is hesitant to leave. But with no leads — no CCTV footage, no unknown numbers blinking on Eren's screen, no mother, an estranged father, no sign of a struggle at the last known location, and so much yet so little more — there isn't much he has to do than drive back with the pair of worried men to the station for more questioning in case of foul play, while constantly eyeing his notifications for any incoming messages on an assault victim found in an alley not too far away from where your phone was last still on.

Eren refuses to leave. Despite Levi's efforts to persuade him that going back to the station was necessary, knowing he was so close to where you'd last been was enough for Eren to stand his ground. Getting into Levi's car means going back miles worth of steps. It means straying from what feels so much like the right path already. And as ridiculous and futile as it is with no leads, it means losing his grip on something much more solid. 

How easy it would be if a last known location means he can find you just by looking behind a tree or having someone point and say “yes, she's right there”. 

So when Levi makes another plea for Eren to come back with him — he doesn't mention what for to not stir any more nerves — and Eren says no while steering himself down the block for what feels like his hundredth recon of the area — just in case you really were behind that tree in the small playground all along, playing a nasty prank on him — Levi chooses to go back to all the nearby twenty-four hour convenience stores one last time before the downpour begins. 

Armin gives Levi a grateful nod before lightly jogging to catch up with Eren, who's already turning onto the next street. 

“You can go,” Eren calls over his shoulder after catching a glimpse of his friend's blond hair beside him. “I'll keep looking by myself. Besides, it's gonna rain soon. You'll get wet.” 

“What about you?” Armin looks down at his friend's bare arms. “You don't even have a jacket.” 

Eren looks down at his sides, like he just noticed his lack of a coat. He could've sworn he had one on him when he walked out his apartment. You would've been upset with him otherwise, that small pout forming on your lips while your brows are weighed down with disappointment. 

The instant of amusement he feels is quickly consumed by the ache of why he's out on the street with no jacket to begin with. 

The food must be cold by now. He'll have to heat it all up once you're back home.

Light raindrops brush against his skin with a small gust of wind. 

You're still not behind the tree.

It's nearly half past two in the morning. Any civilians with useful information have been asleep for hours, and any passers-by would've reported anything had they seen it, Armin thinks. 

It's chilling to walk down streets so quiet and empty, with the only reminder that this isn't an alternate universe being the sparse cars that drive by. Surely the people inside might find it strange to see the pair walking up and down the streets, turning, looking, flashing their phones to make out shapes in the dark.

The tickle of rain on skin is no longer, but the temperature continues to drop. 

Armin takes on one side of the street while Eren tackles the other. He receives a polite nod from the security guard of a small daycare center, who fails to conceal his look of pity. Levi interviewed him around an hour ago, so he has to know what's going on. 

Armin averts his gaze, his cheeks burning at the thought of some stranger pitying him and his friend when everything is going to be just fine. 

The rain starts up again. Eren isn't around anymore. With one quick scan of the street, Armin spots him rounding the corner to the next street — pace firm but anxious. He's quick to follow. 

By the time Armin catches up, the raindrops have grown in size, a reliable sign that this time, it's for real. 

“Eren,” Armin calls him carefully.

Eren continues walking, flashing a light behind a dumpster in a narrow alley between a family restaurant and a bookstore. 

“Eren,” Armin calls him a bit more firmly to get his attention, but to no avail. 

With brows knit more in desperation than concern, Armin quickens his pace and pulls Eren by the shoulder just before he rounds the corner to the next street. 

“Eren!”

“What?” 

The anger and volume in Eren's voice shrinks Armin in his place for a brief moment. 

Embarrassed by his own reaction, Eren exhales an apology. But his face hardens once more when Armin suggests it's time to go home.

Armin steps back, surprised to have caught a swear word from his best friend among the words he spits back in a negative response. 

But when Eren turns, ready to resume his search, Armin pulls at him again.

“Eren, stop!” he half-yells, quickly readjusting his volume before speaking again to not cause any disturbances to sleeping strangers.

“You don't want to pick a fight with me Armin, I'm warning you,” Eren's voice grows low, but still reaches Armin with the same anger and menace.  

Eren harshly pulls away and continues to storm down the next street, leaving Armin to stumble behind. 

The rain is heavy enough now to spot the pavement faster than it takes for each drop to dry. 

“We need to go back, we aren't going to find her like this,” Armin calls after him. His hands do little to shield himself from the rain. Thankfully, Armin thought to bring a jacket along but it won't do much for either of them when it's bound to be sopping wet in just a few minutes. 

Eren's shirt is already clinging to his skin in large patches down his back, and yet he continues walking with purpose down the street. 

Armin's shivering now under his jacket as he looks around to gather his surroundings. This street isn't far from the office. It's poorly lit which, paired with the rain, is best explored in daylight. There's a single street lamp that's meant to illuminate the area at night, but it's been broken for months and either nobody has reported it, or laziness has kept it from being repaired. 

“Come on,” Armin insists, lightly jogging now and losing his breath under the cold shower as he tries to keep up with Eren, who still refuses to listen. “We'll come back in the morning! You need to get some rest if you're going to keep looking! I'll come with you, okay? But we need to go!”

Armin suddenly crashes into Eren's chest as the latter abruptly turns around in a sudden fit of pure rage. 

“I already told you I'm not fucking leaving!” 

Armin stumbles back, teeth chattering, muscles drooping from his wet clothes and vision blurred by the heavy rain. 

“You can leave if you want to! That's what the fucking police is doing! Just go already! But I'm staying because I care! I don't give a fuck about the rain, I'm going to find her!”

Eren's words pierce through Armin's chest, and the next moment he's tackling Eren to the ground. It's not so much to stop him from leaving this time, but out of indignation. 

Eren falls on his ass with a wet thud, his palms painfully pounding onto the pavement as Armin falls on top of him, grabbing a fistful of his shirt in his hands.

“You think I don't care? Why do you think I'm here, you idiot?” Armin yells in Eren's face. Had the pouring rain not been a factor, he would've been red in the face. But had the rain not been there, Eren also would've easily seen the tears streaming down Armin's face, and that would've taken away from his blue glare. 

“She's my best friend! I'm just as worried about her as you are! You can't decide you're the only one affected by this! That only makes you a jerk and you're not!” 

Eren is tense all over as he holds Armin's surprisingly threatening glare. His chest heaves as a twinge of guilt surges inside of him at his friend's pointed remarks. The stiff breathing makes its return.

“But we have to go,” Armin's voice softens — it cracks and begs. 

And Eren breaks down in sobs. His scraped palms come to his face, aggressively digging the heels against his eyes as if to force his tears back in while his shoulders tremble in cold, grief and guilt. 

“You don't understand!” he cries, his shirt still crumpled under Armin's grip. “I fucked up, Armin. This is all my fault!”

Unsure of how to react to this abrupt change in attitude, Armin remains frozen save for his teeth, which continue to chatter under the deafening rain.

“I was supposed to pick her up. I'm never late,” Eren hiccups. “But I didn't come today and now I don't know where she is! It was me, Armin! I did this! This is my fault!” 

“Eren,” Armin murmurs gently, eyebrows upturned in sympathy as he finally softens his hold on his friend. 

“I can't find her and I don't know if she's hurt or scared or if…,” Eren's words drown in another wave of sore sobs, his lips refusing to let the thought of the worst to escape as a spoken word — to think that someone might have caused you harm and that's what's kept you tonight. 

“I need her to be okay,” he whimpers finally, lips trembling as his body begins to react to the harsh cold surrounding him. “Where is she, Armin?”

It takes a while for Armin to gather his thoughts and catch up to the workings of Eren's mind from this hellish night. 

He often leaves the office with you, stays behind some evenings when he notices you're close to wrapping up your work and can ride the elevator together. Sometimes even accepts Eren's offer for a ride when he's too tired to deal with the overwhelming setting of public transportation — tired enough to not mind third-wheeling for a short while. If the last place your phone was turned on was before you even had a chance to take a bus, surely he could've done something to prevent this mess too. Why didn't he think to stay behind today, too?

“It's not your fault,” Armin finally says, his voice just barely audible amidst the rain and thunder. He blinks up from the ground to his friend. “And we don't know what happened. We'll try the hospitals again later, we'll keep calling her in the meantime. We have Levi helping us, right?”

Eren blinks back at him, slowly gathering that Armin is trying to encourage him through reassurances, and finally nods in response as he does his best to ignore the tight lump in his throat. 

“It's like three in the morning, Eren. I'm not asking you to stop. But we can't keep going like this.” He motions vaguely toward the incessant rain from above and the wet clothes sticking to their skin. 

Armin stands, relieving Eren from his weight as he pushes back his hair with one hand and offers the other to his friend whose reluctance casts a shadow over his usually bright features. 

Eren trains his gaze on the ground, leaving Armin's helping hand hanging for the while longer it takes for him to convince himself that Armin is right and this doesn't mean he's failing you. 

Finally, Eren accepts his friend's hand, who hoists him up just as they both spot Levi's car pulling into the street from the farthest corner. 

Armin motions for Eren to follow him toward the car, to which he responds with a weak nod. But just a couple of steps in, something crunches and gets caught under his shoe. Naturally, he looks down, forgetting the deluge falling over him at the moment to frown at the foreign object. 

Armin glances over his shoulder, sensing his absence, and turns around fully when he realizes Eren is kneeling on the ground, cautiously picking something from the ground that ultimately dangles from his fingers once it's fully suspended in the air. 

Armin retraces his steps, kneeling next to his friend to find his face pallid, and green eyes wide with fear as he stares at the broken chain between his fingers, from which hangs an angel cast in silver with a broken wing. 

His features contort in horrified realization. It's almost ridiculous to turn to Eren for confirmation of what he already knows and can already begin to imagine. But when he does, the latter is already hunched over in the opposite direction, emptying his stomach onto the wet pavement while the nearing lights from Levi's car come to blind him.

Hour Fifteen

Mikasa, Jean, and Sasha step into the elevator wordlessly, the only sounds on the way to Eren's floor being the inevitable rustles from the plastic bags with food in Mikasa's hands. 

Jean offered to take them, but Mikasa insisted she'd hold onto them. Maybe it's because of her cold hands, but it might also be because she needs something to help keep her grounded — literally; she feels as though she might float away otherwise. Because if anyone were to ask her, nothing has felt real since last night after Armin's call. 

The elevator’s hum ceases as it comes to a gentle stop and the doors slide open. 

The same somber silence continues to hover between the trio as they mechanically walk down the hall to Eren's door. Jean takes out his copy of the key from his jeans pocket and pushes the door wide open, gesturing for the girls to enter first before quietly closing the door behind them.

Spare keys aren't rare between them. It was chain reaction that stemmed from Eren's father's passing. Everyone wanted to make sure he was okay. The rest is history. 

“In case of emergency.”

“Can you please water my plants while I'm gone?” 

“Can you check something for me?”

“I'm really sick, just let yourself in.”

“Just keep it.”

Jean's copy has rarely been used. In fact, not many of them have made use of Eren's key once he started dating. Not that it's been a dramatic change, but now there's not much need to be wary of barging in on something they'll all laugh about later. And today, after Eren passed out on the street in the rain, it seems crucial to brush the dust off an old habit for their friend's sake.

The trio is careful not to make any excess noise — Eren might still be sleeping —, but the further they venture into the apartment, they realize their efforts are in vain. 

They expected Eren to be lying on the sofa where Jean and Armin had so carefully helped him settle down, still fast asleep considering it's only been a few hours since. Although Eren's sudden nausea was a mere reaction to finding the necklace, Armin still spent a couple more hours watching over him as a precaution while he cleaned up the kitchen and dining area, and quietly left for his apartment to make another round of calls before work. 

They're met with the view of their friend bustling around his work area in a corner of the living room, his brow furrowed and eyes laser focused as he refills the ink tanks on his printer. Stacks of missing person's posters cover his desk with a handful of faded ones having been scattered and crumpled on the floor as evidence of the ink shortage he's tending to. Your face occupies nearly the entirety of his immediate view, which is why a single glance is enough to distract him from his task that he doesn't notice his friends present in his apartment, nor when the ink begins to leak.

At the instinctive curse word that leaves him in a frustrated huff, Jean rushes over to help him. 

“I'll handle this,” he assures Eren, who only blinks in surprise as he realizes he's not alone. 

Mikasa and Sasha walk over to him unsure of whether a hug is appropriate as a greeting. In the end, they choose to speak the words instead. 

Sasha leaves the conversation in exchange for helping Jean clean up the spilled ink. An irregular blob-shaped stain is left behind on the ash gray wood. 

“Are you– How's your stomach?” Mikasa asks. 

An uneasy grimace makes its way onto Eren's face.

“It's fine. It was just… Yeah.” He shrugs it off, unsure of how to properly explain the incident without triggering more discomfort. 

Mikasa nods in understanding. 

“Armin said you're going back to the police station later.”

Eren huffs at a humorless puff of air from his nose. 

“Yeah. More questioning,” Eren replies, his head continuously shaking in disbelief, to which Mikasa frowns.

“What's wrong?” 

It takes Eren a couple of tries to let the words out, his mouth opening and closing with hesitancy. 

“They all left, Mika,” he softly murmurs, a hint of helplessness infecting his fragile voice, that births an ache in Mikasa's chest. “Nobody could say anything and they got bored. What kind of excuse is that?” 

Mikasa drops her gaze to her shoes, submitting before the hurt and impotence Eren's words awake in her. 

Then she shakes her head briefly, recalling a good thing. 

“Levi's on the case… and there's evidence for foul play now, there's a lead,” she says, trying her hardest to appear more hopeful at each thing on her list. “He'll find her, Eren. This'll just be nothing but a bad memory soon.” 

She smiles, but it comes out sad from the red that tints her waterline. 

Eren doesn't have the energy to try to appear cheerful from her encouragement, and limits himself to a nod. 

“Eren, how long have you been up?” Sasha asks with concern from his desk, where her eyes scan over his computer screen and the stacks of paper with your face printed front and center. 

“A few hours?” Eren replies with a shrug, to which everyone else exchanges concerned glances.

Jean breaks the silence with a loud clap, refusing to make way for any awkwardness in the air. 

“We brought you some food, buddy. Come on, let's eat.” 

Sasha eagerly nods, her enthusiasm a bit too stiff it almost seems rehearsed, as she encourages him to follow them to the dining table.

Eren allows himself to be tugged along for a couple of steps before he tethers himself to his spot for a moment and then decidedly takes a step back under everyone's puzzled expressions. 

“I'm not really hungry,” he murmurs, shaking his head.

“Are you sure?” Mikasa gently asks.

“We got your favorite soup,” Jean smiles, though Eren is too busy staring at a blank point to notice. “Minestrone.”

“Extra parmesan,” Sasha adds.

“It's fine.” Eren assures them with a forced smile. “You guys eat. I have a lot of things to do.” 

“Well, you can't do them on an empty stomach. Let's eat and then we'll go through your to-do list together,” Jean insists.

“Yeah,” Mikasa agrees, shooting a grateful smile to her fiancé. “Jean can drive you to the station after breakfast and Sasha and I can handle the rest.”

Every offer is sensible and comforting, but Eren still refuses. He can't eat, not when you still haven't come home. 

“No…” his voice trembles ever so slightly as his eyes wander around the room, as if looking for an excuse. He ultimately makes his way back to his desk, where the stacks of posters await him. “I'll just head out now. I'm gonna hand some of these out before going to the station.”

The rejected trio exchange another round of anxious, meaningful looks. Mikasa's the first to break away from the group to join Eren in gathering a stack of flyers and a roll of tape from the black metal organizer on his desk.

As her hands roam around the surface of the ash gray wood, the jewel on her finger catches the sunlight peeking through the curtains. 

Eren's movements grow slow as his focus is stolen by the silver engagement ring. 

Mikasa notices the pause in his movements from the corner of her eye, and looks up at him to assess his status. Eren tears his gaze from her ring — embarrassed —, but not fast enough for it to go unnoticed, nor does he remember to ease his hardened jaw afterwards. He moves in silence and sets a fast pace toward the door, leaving an anguished Mikasa to trail at his heel. 

Hour Twenty

It takes a handful of hours for Eren to get back home from the station, with a significant reduction to the baggage he left with. The stream of questions would've been fairly simple had he not been charged with so many uneasy feelings as to why he was doing all of it in the first place. It certainly didn't help that he had to face the same people who had simply left this morning. But he has to do things right — even if it means swallowing his anger to contribute with any useful information.

Social media presence, daily routines, bus routes, habits, friends, family situation.

Saying you know someone like the back of your hand is an odd saying, he thinks. He's not that vain to spend lengthy periods of time observing himself. In his case, it suffices to say he simply knows you — all he's done is look at you. 

He knows your hands quite well. The shape of your fingers, the curves of your knuckles and the warmth of your palms when they latch onto his heartbeat and manipulate it to your will. And now what's been left since last night is a painful cavity. It's all wrong. Your hand should be here, filling his void. 

The apartment is empty, Jean and Sasha long gone. The plastic bags have been folded into neat triangles and the counter has been cleared. Upon opening the fridge, Eren finds stacks of containers that have been added to those Armin helped put away the previous night from the uncelebrated dinner. 

He stares at his packed fridge for a long time, any energy to step away vanishing into thin air and leaving him stuck in place, looking straight ahead until he no longer recognizes the shape of anything inside, and he grows numb at the cold air that slowly envelops him. 

A ring from his pocket is what finally pulls him out of his daze and he's quick to whip the device out and accept the incoming call with pure urgency and no thought. 

“I'm only assuming you've been too excited to call me to tell me how it went last night,” Carla's playfully accusing tone comes through the speaker. 

“Mom,” Eren pronounces in a voice so soft, yet empty as he only acknowledges it's her, but any word that bounces off his tongue is devoid of meaning until he can speak the name he wants to.

“So,” Carla's enthusiastic grin is evident through the phone. “Was she thrilled? What did she say?”

Eren's voice fails him. 

In all the anxiety and chaos, with all the things he's had to do within the last twenty hours, he completely forgot to tell his mother what had happened and that moment is catching up to him now. 

His lips roll inwards, a habit reserved for when he's feeling shy because of things you say or do, and now has come back because of his lack of words — or rather the will to expel them.

His hand comes up to his hair, his fingers brushing his hair back as he struggles to find his voice. 

It's only when Eren takes a second too long to reply that a shift in mood can be sensed from Carla's end of the line.

“Eren,” she calls him carefully, which only makes the lump in his throat grow. “Honey, what's wrong?”

“Mom,” is all Eren can muster, voice cracking as he pushes the word out.

“Did you have a fight? Is everything okay?” Carla's concern amplifies through the speaker, as something rustles in the background, a sign that she's taken on a more alert position.

“You didn't break up, did you?” 

Out of all the things that could've gone wrong last night, Eren wishes that had been it. At least he wouldn't be as helpless. At least he'd know where you are. At least it's something he could reverse.

“No.” 

The word comes out choked, his throat instantly sore for the second time. 

His monosyllabic replies must be getting to her, because Carla takes a deep breath before trying again. 

“Eren, honey. You have to speak clearly, okay?” Carla's voice grows gentle, as it always has whenever Eren would have trouble speaking his mind. Granted, that's been lost as he got older, but Carla's sweet attention hasn't. “What happened?”

Her patient voice finally manages to coax the lodged words from Eren's throat. 

“I don't know where she is. She's missing.” 

Hour Twenty-four 

Rain is bad for detective work. Eren heard about it in a documentary or a podcast, or maybe he read it somewhere — he can't remember. But it supposedly washes away any evidence, making easy cases tricky and difficult cases nearly impossible. Considering the silver angel necklace was found in the midst of the sky falling, it comes as no surprise when he comes home from a casual meet up with Levi at a nearby coffee shop with the news that no DNA or signs of a struggle were found on site after a thorough search in the light of day. The other half of the broken angel wing was found stuck on the edge of a sewer grate, though. Eren would feel any comfort at all if it meant it would lead to something. But at least the necklace can be fixed for when he finds you and this is all over.

The necklace is pretty much a dead end, but it'll remain under the police's hold just in case. 

Eren has never gone so long without seeing your face. Now that the clock has found its way back to the hour you were supposed to walk through his door, it's unbearable to know that you won't. And still he looks over in its direction every few minutes, expecting you to burst in and throw yourself into his embrace, marking the end to a day-long fever dream. 

That's probably it. A dream. No, a nightmare. It's nothing but a wicked play of his subconscious — to teach him a lesson on appreciating you more. Maybe to scare him into doing a better job of protecting you. Maybe he's gotten too lax, too careless. After all, the city hasn't been terrorized by any violent crimes in the last few months. But that's no excuse to dismiss the possibility of danger. Right… There was a killer last year. Two murders. No suspects. No arrests. And there was a burglary just last night. So what if…

No.

Eren pulls at his hair, agitated by where his mind is leading him. He pulls hard on the strands, like they're the reins of his thoughts that he needs to redirect onto a less horrifying path. 

His phone dings as if on cue with a text message.

I'll be there soon, honey. Get some rest, I'll call you tomorrow. I love you.

A tap on the attached file opens up a copy of a plane ticket for the day after tomorrow under the name Carla Jaeger.

His heart feels a tad lighter. 

It'll help to have his mother around for a few days. He types his gratitude into his phone and presses send. 

He lets his face fall into his hands as he hunches over his desk.

Everything will be okay, he repeats to himself in his head like a mantra. 

Inhale. Hold. Exhale.

Inhale. Hold. Exhale. 

Inhale. Hold. Exhale.

Everything will be okay.

Outside, rain starts to fall. 

Hour Thirty

The rain has been on and off for hours. 

By the time Eren reconnected with his surroundings, ready to go out and look for clues on his own around the area, the rain was nearly as heavy as it was at three in the morning. 

He sits by the living room window, watching the downpour. His phone is charging on a wooden stool next to him, taking a break from another round of calls to nearby hospitals to ask for any patients bearing your name. Still no. 

His stomach has been growling for a while, but any energy he possesses isn't the kind that'll get him off his chair and into the kitchen — it's the kind that's meant to be used to stare out the window and grow numb over any trivial needs.

It's fine, he thinks. It'll pass. 

Hour Thirty-seven

All five of his friends come through the door a little past seven in the morning, with bags of fresh meals to share. 

Eren sits down this time, allowing Mikasa to fix him a plate and Connie to pour him a glass of juice. 

Nobody mentions the dark circles under his eyes, and Eren's gaze is too lost on a blank point to sense the meaningful glances exchanged all around him. 

There's not much room for conversation. Any sense of normalcy is lost in the thick air. It seems equally wrong to create a lighthearted break for the length of a meal as it is to talk about the empty seat across from Eren when everyone is trying so hard to make sure he's at the very least feeding himself. 

Eren merely pokes and stirs at his food with his fork the entire time. There's a fresh stack of flyers on his desk that demand more urgency in his eyes than sitting down to eat. 

His demeanor is easy to read by everyone at the table, yet another round of concerned glances and subtle nods in his direction being tossed around with silent messages. 

In the end, nobody says a thing and the groups is broken off in pairs to tackle the surrounding neighborhoods.

Hour Forty-five 

Nobody has called. Not him or the station. As the only person outside of the police to be contacted for any updates, his phone should've rung at least once. But aside from yesterday's encounter with Levi and his visits to the station to see if his presence alone will bring something up, there's been a drought in leads. And despite his determination in making sure every person he passes knows anything, there's still nothing. 

It's been hours since his stomach has demanded his attention. It's finally reached the point where it's so empty, it's gone numb. His body is running on nothing more than sheer will and water. 

He should at least try to eat, test if he can hold any food down. 

The fridge remains packed with food, even more now thanks to what's been gathered from his morning visits. 

Ever so slowly, with overly cautious movements, he takes out a container, transports it to the counter and peels off the lid. It's from the dinner you were supposed to share two nights ago. 

His lips tremble, eyebrows upturning for the split second it takes him to grasp back at his composure. An outsider would think he's glaring at his leftovers, disgusted at whatever is inside, completely misunderstanding the mental ordeal he's traversing as he takes several deep breaths.

He pulls out a stool from the breakfast bar, sits down and stares.

Hour Forty-eight 

It's been two whole days since Eren has stepped foot in his own bedroom. 

His feet drag him toward the bed without stopping to flip the light switch. Though the night is cloudy, signaling another shower for tonight, the moonlight still finds its way into the room just enough for his eyes to take in the most basic shapes of his furniture.

He comes to a stop at the foot of the bed, and his gaze zeroes in on the neatly folded white cotton fabric set on the corner. It's the shirt you slept in two nights ago, the one that's the wrong size because it's his and he likes his clothes to be just a bit baggy. 

It's the shirt he gently tugged off your body to feel your skin pressed against his. The one that you take care in folding even if you're in a rush and even though he'll throw it in the wash anyway.

His fingers slowly reach out to collect the fabric.

Inhale. Hold. Exhale.

Inhale. Hold. Exhale. 

Inhale. Hold. Exhale.

It still smells like you. Just barely — a mere scrap of notes that have faded over the last two days. A mix of vanilla, citrus and a faint trace of eucalyptus fabric softener. 

Inhale. Hold. Exhale.

Inhale. Hold. Exhale. 

Inhale. Hold. Exhale.

Breathe, Eren.

It doesn't work. The air is too thick. It gets caught in his throat and forces a choked sob on its way back out. 

His face contorts in anguish as he falls onto the bed, curled up in an attempt to make himself as small as humanly possible, with your shirt clutched in his hands as the world outside darkens and he simply weeps.

Previous chapter | Next chapter (tba) 

Minors and ageless blogs who interact will be blocked

Notes: Tunnel Vision will continue, just not with the same schedule it had before my hiatus. I’ll be adding word count and progress updates in the chapter guide in case you want to keep up with the story in that way (It’ll also give you an estimate of when the next chapter will be posted. I have ideas for some ficlets, which I’ll do my best to post in between TV updates just so I don’t leave you all hanging with Eren content. It’ll depend a lot on whether I see any enthusiasm for it or not though (aka comments and reblogs that aren’t… well… empty). In the meantime, thank you for the support and feel free to slip into my ask box to chat :)

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[ch3rry-wink]

Prom Night (AU)

Pairing: Suguru Getō x f!reader

Summary: After rejecting Getō's invitation to the prom, your refusal turns into a nightmare.

CW: +18, dark content, kidnapping, dub-con, rough sex, creampie, doggy style, choking, handjob, kinda Stockholm syndrome, unprotected sex, fingering, missionary, cum eating, oral sex, kinda fuck or die, coercion

Author's note: inspired by the loved ones. Getō And the reader are in college.

Your friends made an effort to plan that dance. It was just a few weeks before graduation, and their best idea was to mimic the Americans with their high school dances every season. They wanted something very traditional: inviting the person you liked, corsages, choosing the king and queen of the dance, and reviving every Hollywood movie stereotype.

The halls and classrooms filled with cheesy people striving to get a date, including Getō who, with a bouquet of red roses, proposed to be your partner. With a small (and cruel rejection), you let him know that you only saw him as the awkward country boy who helped you with your work. Perhaps you should have been kinder.

The big night had arrived, and you waited for a taxi on the corner in your stunning black dress and heels that hurt your feet. You admitted to yourself that your boyfriend was an idiot for not picking you up. A black car pulled up in front of you, and panic instantly set in as a white-haired man with blue eyes rolled down the passenger window.

"Get in the car," he ordered. You tried to walk away, but other burly men blocked your path. "Get in the car; we have a dance to attend," you obeyed; there wasn't much else to do.

You woke up dizzy and tied to a chair, with electronic music playing in the background and disco lights spinning. When your head stopped spinning, you saw the place completely decorated to simulate the event you were supposed to attend.

"Surprise!" the white-haired man pointed out, and when the other crossed the doorway, you finally understood what was happening.

"You shouldn't have bothered, Satoru," Getō entered, adjusting the buttons of his bespoke tuxedo.

"Just say thank you, Suguru," Satoru adjusted your head and removed the gag. "It's no trouble at all, all for my friend."

"Let me go," tears fell from your eyes, your makeup starting to run, and Satoru dug his nails into your shoulders.

"No, you are the guest of honor," his fingers trailed down your arms to reach the restraints. "You'll give Suguru the perfect night, and I'll consider letting you go, understood?"

"I promise," the restraints softened until you were completely free. You stood up, Satoru wiped your tears, and led you to where Suguru was with a corsage, putting it on your wrist.

"It's very beautiful," you approached Suguru. "And you look very handsome tonight." It wasn't a lie, Suguru was handsome; but his personal style killed all the charm, you were somewhat superficial, and you admitted it.

"You look stunning," your makeup was smudged, and your hair tangled; under different circumstances, you might have believed his compliment.

"We should get a drink," you walked together to the table filled with expensive liquors and fine snacks, Getō poured you a glass of champagne.

"Courtesy of Satoru Gojō," both raised your glasses in a toast, and after a few sips, you threw the liquid in his face and started to run.

"Catch her," you heard Satoru shout to his people as you ran through the door.

"I found her!" someone shouted behind you, and you crawled pathetically on the ground in hopes of escaping; he lifted you and carried you regardless of your injuries.

There was not a soul in sight, only the echo of the menacing steps of the henchmen behind you. The hallways were vast with dozens of closed doors and stairs that seemed to lead to the same place; however, one door stood out, it was large and heavy when moved, a forest was revealed before you. On the uneven ground, you stumbled occasionally, wild animals sounded dangerously close, and after a couple of falls that marked your body with scrapes, you knew you wouldn't go far, but now it was a reality with the flashlight illuminating your face:

"Please let me go," you begged and kicked in vain because in seconds, you were back in the hall with the big blue eyes in front of you.

"I'm not happy, stop mistreating my friend, or I will make these gentlemen mistreat your family," he laughed when your eyes filled with panic. "It's time to dance."

Suguru returned to the hall, some damp spots visible on the fabric of his suit.

"You're back!" he hugged you, dragged you to the dance floor, and started moving to the rhythm of the slow song Gojō had put on.

"Suguru, let me go."

"No, Satoru put a lot of effort into planning this."

"You're insane."

"You humiliated me and took advantage of me." You had been a complete bitch and had never taken the time to thank him for what he had done for you.

"I'm sorry... I..." your apologies and explanations were cut short when Satoru spoke from a microphone.

"It's time to choose the king and queen of the dance." He waved an envelope in the air and then opened it. "Suguru Getō," he read from a little piece of paper. Getō had the crown on his head and waited for you to join him; Satoru said your name and crowned you queen with that small cheap plastic crown.

"We should dance as king and queen," you started to accept your condition, cooperating might get you free sooner. Your arms wrapped around his neck, and his around your waist, your bodies were too close. Suguru's fingers moved delicately down your back. Under the lights and slow music, he kissed you, and you followed, believing that was enough to convince Gojō that the night was perfect (hopefully he would ignore your escape attempt).

"That was wonderful," Getō smiled foolishly, and Gojō appeared behind you.

"That was beautiful," his applause sounded sarcastic.

"I'll get a drink," Getō kissed you on the cheek and then walked away.

"Before your escape attempt, I didn't consider this would be necessary," he handed you a card and waited for you to take it. "I was going to let it go, a moonlight kiss, and you would go home."

"What is this?!"

"It's the suite, you'll take him there and show him how much you love him," he smiled playfully, "And make it seem like your idea," he walked away when he saw Getō returning.

"I brought champagne," you pounced on him, put your mouth close to his ear, and whispered:

"I want us to go somewhere more private," you felt his heart race and his breath catch, he nodded eagerly, and you guided him out of the hall. The footsteps of an escort sounded close by; the whole building was full of them.

The room was beautiful with crystal chandeliers adorning the ceiling, vases full of flowers, elegant furniture, and an immense bed; everything was pure luxury.

Getō put his hand on your waist and turned you to face him, the suit jacket had disappeared, and only the tight white shirt remained. He kissed you passionately as his hands went to the straps of the dress, which fell to the ground in seconds.

His hands slowly went down your torso until they touched the edge of your panties, you felt how they slid down your legs and kicked them aside, Getō kissed you again, your hot body rubbed against the coolness of his clothes and this made your nipples stiffen from the friction.

"I've long dreamed of this moment" he distributed a few kisses on your neck, his fingers reached your pussy he slid them between your folds, a small moan escaped your mouth from the pleasant sensation and without warning you felt him pressing your clitoris, your legs faltered and you held on to his shoulders, while he kept rubbing again and again, unable to give you clarity.

"Suguru," you moaned, and then something landed on you; you felt guilty, you were being unfaithful, you were letting another name come out of your mouth, and yet it felt so good. Perhaps the adrenaline from the danger involved was playing tricks on you.

"Tell me you love me," you shook your head and pulled away from him. Suguru had those same sad eyes as when you rejected him. You knew that if he left this room, Gojō was ready to ruin your life.

"Suguru, I love you," you brought your lips to his and your fingers to the buttons of his shirt, then to his belt and zipper; the pants fell with the metallic noise of the belt.

You were kneeling in front of him, his bulge just growing inside his boxers, you rubbed your hand and with your mouth you gave little kisses over the fabric hoping it would keep growing; your hands ran up his thighs to the waistband of his boxers and slowly pulled them down, his cock gave a little jump and bumped against his abdomen. A small sound of surprise came out of you and followed by biting your lip as panic set in.

One of Getō's hands landed on the back of your head, but you didn't move you just stood there pondering whether or not you could take him in your mouth.

"You don't need to" Suguru spoke calmly and your eyes watched him from below, you opened your mouth and he closed it before you could fit it into his red tip.

"I want to" you said almost pleading.

"We'll have more time" he was convinced you would be one more time with him, after this you never wanted to see him again.

"Let me make you feel good" you put one of your hands on the base of his cock, you squeezed it a little and started to move it up and down, its heat was intense; you gave kisses and licks to its rosy tip. Getō had his eyes closed and some delicate moans escaped from his mouth. You felt something inside him clench seeking his release, you simply pulled away not allowing him to get to that point. You smiled teasingly at him.

"You're cruel," he helped you to stand up and guided you to the bed, sitting you down on the edge and started to unstrap the heels, touching the small bruises and scrapes, "I'm sorry, I didn't want this to happen..." You didn't want him to keep talking, reminding you of what happened tonight; you needed him to be quiet, for all of this to end.

"Suguru, enough," you put your finger on his mouth to silence him, "Just make me feel like in your dreams." His eyes lit up with joy.

Getō's face was between your legs, his tongue was moving in circles over your clit and two of his fingers were moving in and out of your insides; you had underestimated him the gangly country boy knew what to do he wasn't a frigid puritan.

"That's enough" you stood there indignantly in the middle of a high, watching him smirk at you just as you had a while ago; you settled in the middle of the bed with your legs slightly spread in anticipation of Getō.

He landed in the middle, his hands reached your breasts and lightly squeezed your nipples, his mouth landed on one to lick and suck it, you played with his hair and giggled nervously from the pleasure, you accepted that you were enjoying him a lot and the feeling he was giving you.

Suguru pulled you a few inches until you were closer to him, he rubbed his red tip between your folds making sure to brush your clit.

"I love you" he said between heavy breaths and moans, as he slowly pushed himself inside you; stretching you and filling you to perfection. He began to move slow; but hard without much consideration, just watching your face contort into a grimace of pleasure and listening to your moans scraping your throat and echoing around the room.

His hands clung firmly to your hips, imposing the rhythm, exerting absolute control. In that space, he was the one in charge, the one who determined every movement. You, who were the queen bee in public, became a mere plaything here, without any voice or power, and that stimulated you.

Your face was sunk between the pillows and your ass raised in the air, his cock well buried inside you as his balls bounced in your pussy.

"You look pathetic, you're just a slut" your pussy clenched "Maybe I should call Satoru and have him join.... Would you like that?" The very mention of Satoru Gojō terrified you and in a frightened voice you replied:

"No" Getō tugged on your hair pulling you to him, your back was pressed against his torso and his cock kept up that erratic, hard rhythm.

"Why not" His hand went to your neck and squeezed it, you were losing air and you felt suffocated by all the sensations.

"Because I'm only yours" your improvised reply made him relax as did his grip on your neck. The speed and roughness of his lunges slowed, as did the sound of skin against skin. Suguru gifted you with a slow, passionate kiss, accompanied by his fingers touching your clit, your toes curling, your body filled with spasms.

"Come for me" Getō kept burying himself to the hilt inside you, feeling you clench around him and whimper as your orgasm finally came.

He carelessly dropped your body on the bed, continued ramming your over stimulated pussy chasing his own release until he succeeded, his hot seed painted your walls white.

Suguru didn't pull out he continued to fuck his own seed inside you and your own pussy was eager to have him again.

"Open your mouth" Suguru came out of you, he rubbed his thumb on your core and then brought it closer to your mouth, you hesitated to do so; but his pleading eyes motivated you. You savored the mixture of the two of you together and without wasting time he kissed you.

"Suguru... I need you" It was the first time a simple orgasm had made you feel so vulnerable, leaving your body like jelly. You had wasted so much time rejecting Suguru that now you simply didn't want him to separate from you; you wanted him to fuck you every minute.

None of your friends or your boyfriend—ex-boyfriend, actually—understood why that morning you had arrived hand in hand with Suguru Getō. They had all seen you reject him brutally; however, there you were, hugging and exchanging small kisses. You understood it, though, and it wasn't necessary for them to know that in one weekend you had become addicted to his cock or the way he fucked you.

[mika-no-sekai-blog]

Word count: 3200+

Warnings: a bit of violence

Part XVII | Part XIX

You jolted awake, heaving, skin sticky with a cold sweat. Your trembling fingers found the pendant safely hidden under your clothes. It was dream, another nightmare, you thought at first as your sight focused on the light colored chiffon curtains around the bed.

You tried to calm down, inhaling deeply. But it didn't work, panic gripped on your trembling heart that beat too fast. Why it was harder than usual? Your throat was closing, you couldn't breathe. Why hadn't you forgot it as soon as you opened your eyes?

"Y/N!" A males voice cried out. Before you were able to comprehend what's happening, mattress dipped and strong arms wrapped around you. "Thank the Mother."

You finally breathed in. You had to repeat it several times to be able to speak out.

"Rhys," you whispered, your voice hoarse. Your brother was with you. You were safe. The panic began to dissipate. Tears rolled down your cheeks and you weren't the only one crying. Rhysand sobbed, his grip growing stronger.

You stayed like this until both of you calmed down. You didn't speak, just held each other.

"I'm so sorry," Rhysand whispered as he pulled away to look down at you. "I shouldn't have done that. I shouldn't have revived those memories."

No dreams, but memories. That's why it didn't disappear after you woke up. You closed your eye and immediately opened them because the horrors started to play out behind your eyelids again.

For the first time in your life you saw Rhys struggling to find words. He was opening and closing his mouth like a fish. You finally looked at him properly.

Rhysand looked terrible. Red eyes with dark circles under, dishevelled hair, wrinkled clothes that remembered better times. He was a mess, much messier than after all-day training in the camp.

For Cauldron's sake, you were so confused. You pressed palms to your face. The horrible headache was back, too.

"Y/N, are you okay? Tell me what should I do? Do you need something?" Rhysand was immediately cradling you.

"I have just this insane headache," you rasped.

"Do you want that powder from Madja?"

You nodded without thinking twice. Small bottle and glass of water appeared on the nightstand. Rhys added a spoonful of powder to the glass, mixed it and handed the glass to you. You gratefully drank it. It worked almost immediately. You sighed with relieve.

"You okay?" You asked Rhys. "You look.. tired at best."

"You were unconscious for last five days. I couldn't leave you alone. It's all my fault.."

"Five days?" you choked on water. "It doesn't matter. Anyway. Don't you dare to blame yourself. I was the one who asked you to do that."

"It was so.." Rhysand fisted on his hair. "If those bastards weren't already dead, I would.." He was so angry that air around him crackled with power.

But you didn't have a chance to talk with him more as a roar came somewhere from the hallway. "Where is she?"

Both of you turned to the door at the same moment, eyes wide. Rhysand was about to stand and go to see what was going on down there when the door flew open and hit the wall hard.

On the threshold stood Azriel. His eyes dark, face full of rage, body ready to strike. The shadows wildly swirled around him, wings stretched behind his shoulders. He was so scary, looking like the embodiment of death itself. If you didn't know him, you would be so panic-stricken, unable to even blink. His hazel eyes scanned over you still in the bed.

In a blink of eye he had Rhysand pinned to the wall, his feet in the air. "What did you do to her?!" he growled, baring teeth at him. Blue siphons on his leathers shone dangerously.

Your brother struggled against his grip, his lips turning blue, but he didn't use any magic to protect himself. Azriel was so blinded with the rage he would kill him and Rhys would allow it. You had to stop him somehow.

You leapt from bed and tried to pull his muscular arm away from Rhys' throat. "Az, calm down," you whined, but you didn't make him move for even an inch. "Azriel!"

Rhysand's eyes began rolling back, now whole his face was bluish.

"Azriel! Let him go!" You were pulling on his arm even more furiously now, your nails digging into his flesh. You drew blood. Only then his gaze moved to you and his arm fell back.

Rhysand fell to the ground gasping for air and coughing. You knelt beside him, rubbing on his back. "Rhys, are you okay?" He just nodded still panting and coughing.

"Are you crazy?" you turned to Azriel. "You could kill him."

"That's exactly what I wanted to do," he retorted, glaring down at his High Lord angrily. "He promised to not push you further. You weren't ready for that and he fucking knew it."

"I asked him to do that!" You shouted back.

At that moment Feyre appeared in the door. She was dirty from a paint, apparently somebody ran to her studio in the city to alert her after Azriel arrived.

"Rhys," she cried out when she saw him panting on the ground and ran to him.

You both helped him stood up and get to the door. Feyre gave you a worried look. A silent question. You just shook your head and smile and so she took your brother to their room, leaving you alone with Shadowsinger.

Azriel glared after him, promise of death in his eyes.

"Don't even think about that," you warned him. "It was my decision. I went to him. If you need to vent your anger on someone, here I am."

He grumbled something you didn't understand and stayed silent with hands crossed on his board chest, hazel eyes watching you.

You gazed back at him.

"How do you feel?" he asked much calmer.

You raised a brow at him.

"What?"

"You were about to kill Rhys. Don't I deserve the same?"

His mouth opened and closed, no words coming out. "It's different."

"How?"

"Simply different."

You angrily glared at him until the spymaster did unthinkable thing. He backed and disappeared in his shadows without another word.

Exhausted you sat down and pulled knees to your chest. As it became your habit, you took the pendant out and played with it. Now you knew. You regained the last bit of your memory. You had everything as you'd planned. You were trying to avoid thinking about the horrors of the last night your mother was alive and rather tried to focus on finding a way how to get to Spring Court.

That night you couldn't sleep. You aimlessly wandered through the house until you found yourself in front of Rhys' and Feyre's bedroom. You were about to knock on the door, but you changed your mind at the last second and decided to go to the garden.

The door behind you opened quietly and Feyre came out. "Oh, it's you," she smiled tiredly.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to disturb you."

She just waved a hand. "I was about to get some tea. Will you join me?"

You nodded and a few moments later both of you were seated in the sitting room with steaming cup of tea in hand.

"How is Rhys?"

"Oh," Feyre smiled. "You don't need to worry about him. They're fighting quite often. He's fine, sleeping like a baby at the moment. By the morning he won't have a single bruise."

You shook your head. "It's my fault. Azriel burst out like that because of what I asked Rhys to do."

"You did nothing wrong. Anyway, it was up to you to decide that. Azriel can't be angry for that."

You sipped your tea while Feyre watched you, face tense with worry. "Are you okay?"

You tried to smile, but it turned into grimace. "I will be."

Feyre sighed. "I guess you can't sleep. Rhys showed me what happened there. It was.. well.. more than terrible. If you would like to talk about it.." she offered gently.

You thanked her and this time you managed to smile properly. "It's enough that you are here."

She nodded. You finished your tea mostly in silence, just occasionally doing some small talk. That's how you found out there would be Starfall in a week.

Starfall, the biggest and most beautiful celebration in Night Court. How could you forget about that? An idea began to form in your head.

"Who will come?" you asked subtly.

"As usual. It will be us, my sisters, some friends and people from the city," Feyre smiled, already imagining the party.

"Friends?"

"Yes, Winter Court's High Lord with his wife and few generals. Helion will come and a few friends from Summer Court. Lucien should be here, too." Feyre was counting on fingers, roaming through the list in her head, but you stopped listening.

You already heard what you needed. Lucien would be here. Such a big party was a good occasion to disappear without being noticed for hour or two. It should give you enough time to speak with Tamlin, if things went in your favor.

Thinking about all possible alternatives you even forgot about the horrors of your past and spent that week mostly peacefully.

Evening of Starfall

You stood in your room in front of the tall mirror, admiring yourself. Mor convinced you to go shopping dresses with her and this was what you ended up with. The dress she'd chosen for you for this event was beautiful. It was very simple long dress made of dark blue almost black velvet, the hem of skirt was decorated with shiny little stones that in narrowing chains rose up to your waist. It reminded a night sky full of shooting stars. Indeed, very fitting for today's evening.

She also insisted on helping with your make-up and hair. Since she left a few minutes ago, you had been standing in front of the mirror looking at your reflection. It wasn't like it didn't suit you. To be honest, it suited you a lot, you felt almost beautiful, but this wasn't you. It was too much.

You were snapped out of your thoughts by a knock on the door. "Are you ready?" Rhysand's voice shouted from behind the door.

"Yes," you answered. Door opened and Rhys strolled in.

As soon as he found you, his eyes widened. He froze on the spot, in silence gazing at you.

"What?" You raised a brow at him. "Is it too much?"

He slowly shook his head looking for his voice. "No, it's perfect. You're beautiful. I've never thought I will get a chance to see my baby sister like this. Tonight you'll be the most beautiful among the stars."

You frowned at him, blushing fiercely. "You are such an ass."

"I'm just honest," he grinned. "I can't wait to see Azriel's expression when he sees you."

You rather said nothing to that. Ever since he revived your memories, he kept making small remarks about Azriel and you. No need to say that the very next day after Azriel almost killed him, they were again brothers, talking as if nothing had happened.

"Let's go. I can't wait to show my Starshine to my friends," he teased you.

Party was held as always in the House of Wind. This was your first time visiting here since you came back, but you had to say that although Rhys had changed the furniture and decorations, the house itself hadn't changed that much. You still could easily navigate through narrow halls and numbers of rooms here.

Rhys' family was gathered in a big private sitting room. As soon as the two of you walked in all eyes turned on you.

Mor had already seen you, so she wasn't so surprised and sent you just a cheeky grin. Cassian's sonorous voice was the loudest one. He left his mate at the bar and hurrying to you he lifted you up, spinning with you.

"Our lil' sis finally joined the gang," he laughed as he put you down. "Look at you! You're so pretty, dove."

Laughing you pushed him away when he tried to kiss your cheek. Your face felt even hotter than after Rhysand complimented you. "Stop that, you big bear. You'll destroy Mor's hard work."

"You look amazing," Feyre hugged you. Even Amren nodded approvingly. Next to her stood male you'd never seen before, but it wasn't hard to guess he was from different court and had a thing for her. He smiled politely at you, which you returned.

Elain stood with her sister at bar. She frowned at you and turned away. As long as she didn't make another scene, you didn't mind. Nesta, on the other hand, winked at you and smiled, sipping from her glass. It was surprising.

Balcony doors opened and Azriel walked in with a glass of whisky in hand. "What's -" When his eyes met yours he forgot what he was about say, gaping at you. Hand that held the glass dropped and its content spilled onto the floor, splattering his shoes and pants.

Rhysand and Cassian boomed with laughter, others turned around and hiding their amusement pretended to be occupied.

You spared him an embarrassing situation and walked away to Mor. You hadn't talked with him since he attacked Rhysand and honestly, you were still a bit bitter about that.

As the evening progressed, the party was in full swing. Rhys and Feyre disappeared, certainly having their private party on one of the smaller balconies. Cassian with Nesta also disappeared together. They visibly needed an alone time. The rest went down to have fun with the other guests.

You were alone on the higher balcony, pretending to observe the crowd below you. True was you were looking for a certain redhead. Feyre said Lucien would come, but you hadn't spotted him yet.

"Drink?" A deep voice spoke to your right. Shadowsinger waited just a few inches from you with two glasses of wine in hands, offering you one. You hadn't heard him to come.

You gave him a tight smile. "I don't drink."

"Oh," his cheeks tinted with pink. Both glasses disappeared. "You are stunning tonight." You ignored that comment. He leaned against railing, looking down. "Are you still angry with me?"

"Little bit," you answered honestly.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. Well, at that moment I guess I did, but..I was angry. And so worried for you. Rhysand sent me on some damn mission that took weeks to accomplish. I couldn't see you for so long and the first thing I heard after returning home was that you aren't well, that you're unconscious because he returned you the last bits of your memories. He promised me to wait."

You placed your hand on his big scarred one. "As I already told you. It was my fault. I asked him to do so."

"Now I know. But back then.. I think I would react the same way even if I knew," he admitted."

"The three of you grew into brutes," you rolled your eyes.

He laughed, the sound so rare that you couldn't resist and had to look at him. He was handsome in the tailored suit. Even more than usually. Despite all hardships and wars that he survived, he still seemed young and innocent, just as you remembered him. Your heart stuttered, breathing became labored.

He had to hear that because he stopped laughing and looked down at you. Suddenly he seemed to be too close. The crowd below you gasped and went silent, all eyes turned to the sky. You did the same.

The show had began. Hundreds of spirits travelled above you. A warm wing wrapped around your shoulders, big hand landed on your waist. You turned to Azriel, his shiny eyes already on you. Now he was even closer than before. You could feel his warm breath full of freshness and woody smell of whisky on your face, strands of his hair tickling your forehead.

It threw you centuries back, when the two of you stood on the exactly same spot in the exactly same position. You were just a young female, still teenager, crazily in love with the handsome young male, best friend of your older brother, who loved you deeply. Your knees buckled just like they did back then, breath caught in your throat. His full lips brushed over yours. A moan made its way through your parted lips. You felt so lightheaded and drawn to him.

But..

This was wrong. You weren't that young female anymore. You didn't feel the same way anymore. Your heart changed. You were here on a mission. You blinked the haziness of your mind away.

"I'm sorry," you breathed out and ran away, leaving confused Azriel behind. He didn't try to chase after you nor he stopped you.

You ran until you got two floors lower and only then you stopped in one of the alcoves in the hallway to catch your breath. You forbade yourself to think about what just happened on the balcony.

You were upset. You needed to find Lucien quickly, before the party would be over and you miss the best chance. You walked down the hall and turn the corner just in time to see hair as bright as a fire disappear in one of the doors.

You stalked closer and carefully peeked in. You were lucky, it was Lucien. He stood with his back to the doors, pouring some alcohol to the glass. He was alone. You slipped in and closed the doors behind you.

Startled he turned to you. "It's you? You should have said something. You move around like a ghost. One day somebody gets a heart attack because of you." He turned his attention back to the drink. He seemed to be in a bad mood.

"I was looking for you."

"Really?" He took quite big gulp of liquor grimacing. "So congratulations. You found me."

"Are you okay?"

"Nothing I couldn't solve myself," he snapped. "What do you want from me?"

"I need you to take me to Spring Court." His brows raised, both russet and gold eye snapped back to you.

"You what?"

"You heard me."

Lucien laughed. "Sure. And next time I meet Rhysand, he will chop me into small pieces and feed me to some beasts. Thanks, no."

"He doesn't have to know you helped me."

Lucien tsked, but he listened. "All I want from you is that you take me to Tamlin. That's all. After that you can return to the party and pretend you haven't seen me at all."

"Why?"

"You said it yourself. Tamlin needs help and I can help him. Do I need any other reason?"

He looked you over from head to toe with narrowed eyes, thinking. A muscle pulsed on his tightened jaw. "Okay. How do you imagine we get out of here?"

It surprised you. You thought he would be harder to convince to do something so crazy and dangerous.

And so you presented him your plan. It was very simple: find unused balcony far away from prying eyes and winnow. You already had an idea which rooms with balconies would be safe for your escape.

Lucien agreed and obediently followed you through halls. You were already so close to the one of the empty rooms when a deep voice came from behind you.

"Where do you think you are going?"

Taglist:

@impossibelle @sevikas-whore @b0xerdancer @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @tele86 @mybestfriendmademe @nocasdatsgay @yunloyal @nebarious @isabiss @st0rmyt @lilah-asteria @ubigaia @paleidiot

[toxycodone]

Hey Toxy! Sorry for the sudden radio silence on asks from me, but I got nasty icky sick.

Any quick thoughts on the Touden Party (post Falin being revived) with a gn!reader or fem!reader who got sick (stomach bug or flu is okay with me)?

Thank you again! Love your blog!

-Deer Anon. 🦌❤️

NOOOO OMG...im so sorry to hear that i hate. the flu. I had it in the beginning of this year and when I tell you I was DYING. ugh.

Laios

Probably the most visually affected. Literally says out loud "that's awful!!" when he hears you're sick. Bro is not having it

He's not squeamish, so he volunteers to check on you (along with Falin, theyre a duo).

He holds your hair back when you throw up. King

I think he spends a lot of time unintentionally fretting about you. Will you be okay? Getting sick is the worst. He just ultimately feels bad.

I think he tries to distract you by reading or trying to play games. The others have to keep him from you because he's so eager to just hang out and doesn't really think about the reality that hey. you have something infectious!!

Falin

She's genuinely an unbothered queen in the best way possible. Because she doesn't freak out or anything. Falin is just like "okay" and comes up with her game plan

She's good at nursing you back to health but she doesn't overdo it. Falin is really lowkey and honestly an excellent caretaker. She's the one monitoring your temperature and making sure you get enough fluids and she doesn't cringe when you vomit everywhere. Just frowns and gets to cleaning up.

She'll use her magic to help alleviate your symptoms before she goes <3

Marcille

Instantly freaks. Because ew germs and being sick but also like are you gonna be okay?? Marcille wants to like consult every medic in town before Falin reassures her its cool

Marcille makes the best herbal tea for you...since Falin has you covered with the magic, Marcille focuses on her home remedies and such.

SHE WOULD DO YOUR HAIR. It's an act of love. Usually people don't think about that but having icky hair when you're sick is the worst and Marcille won't have it.

Chilchuck

Oh I know he's immediately thinking of a lecture. He wants to go to you and tell you about how he told you so and you shouldn't have pushed yourself

But when he sees you he just sighs. You look terrible (affectionately) and he just feels super bad. Chil presses his hand to your forehead and tsks and immediately starts doing the mental checklist of what he'd do for his daughters when they were sick

He kinda chides you, but ultimately he settles to change your bedding when it gets too sweaty and make sure you're getting some sort of bath/shower.

He also does that dad thing where he comes into the room and just looks at you when you're sleeping to make sure you're good

Senshi

SENSHI THE GOAT IS MAKING AN IMMACULATE CHICKEN SOUP FROM BONE BROTH HE MADE PREVIOUSLY AND STORED. He is so real.

He doesn't pressure you to eat and just like, makes sure you're at least drinking the broth to get your strength up.

I also like to think he'd attempt to make the Orc medicine he learned while living with them too, just in case. Even small doses of that could hopefully get you feeling better.

But he's helping Chil with the sheets and washing dishes and such. Senshi also stays in the room with you when he has down time during the day and will read you pa

Izutsumi

Eh...do not expect much from her. But she assists the others in the background. Mainly by helping Senshi or Chilchuck take care of you.

She could probably tell you were sick like the day before and avoided you or mentioned you having a strange smell.

But when she hears you're sick she's like :/ "called it"

When no one else is there she "begrudgingly" sleeps at the foot of your bed. It helps you with the chills but also when you have a fever you're really warm

(She probably also gets sick then you have to help her out since its "your fault" hehe)

[rosethevideomancer]

Okay so I wanna talk about this because I hate seeing this statement all over the internet about Doctor Who. We need to get one thing very straight with Doctor Who. Kids enjoy Doctor Who, Doctor who is no longer a kids show. Doctor who hasn't been a kids show since the ninth doctor hopped on screen and told a Dalek to kill itself at LEAST if not way earlier. You cling onto things like "Ratings" or "Original Show Bible" when the showrunners havent for YEARS. It has been a generalized comedy thriller now for longer than it was a family show. As a matter of fact enjoy this list of things I think are not kid friend from the revival era:

9 and Rose letting Cassandra explode into a bloody mess on screen

Jack groping that guys ass

The Satan Pit (the whole thing)

The ENTIRE Racnoss scene

Weeping Angels.

Midnight

Waters of Mars

Horny Amy Pond from S5 - E1-5 including the infamous Amy tries to force herself upon the doctor scene

What kid fully understands "Vincent and the Doctor"?

Amy's skirt and glass floors

River saying she was a screamer

The 11th doctor's naughty side

90% of the 12th doctors episodes

Jodie actually was kinda family friendly and ya'll hated her. So far all of 14 and 15 have been fairly kid friendly. Maybe it'll give them nightmares but fear is a superpower right?

Listen I get that it's actually masking homophobia or racism but people also say it to undermine newer episodes political subplots because they were dumb when they were younger and didn't realize it's always been there. and if you're one of the people who says "Doctor Who is a kids show" please stop. We as a fandom shouldn't have to suffer because you grew up and learned to stop enjoying things.

[redhoodinternaldialectical]

"Murder is Werewolves" - Batman

I don't got the SPOONS to do this thought train justice, I have seriously been trying to write this thing for MONTHS so just, idk, have this half baked skeletal outline of the essay I guess:

I don't believe that Batman's no-kill rule is primarily about rehabilitation or second chances.

His refusal to believe that Cassandra could have killed someone when she was eight years old because "how could a killer understand my commitment not to kill" is absolute fucking MOON LOGIC from a rehabilitationist standpoint. No jury on the planet would think for even a second that she could reasonably be held accountable for her actions in that situation! Her past cannot condemn her to being incapable of valuing human life under a rehabilitation centering framework. However, Batman's reasoning makes perfect sense if he believes that killing is a spiritually/morally corrupting act which permanently and fundamentally changes a person, and that corruption can never be fully undone.

Dick Grayson killing the Joker is treated both narratively and by Batman as an unequivocally WIN for the Joker. The Joker won by turning Nightwing into a killer. Note that this is during a comic in which the Joker transforming people was a major theme! Batman didn't revive the Joker because the Joker deserved to live; he revived the Joker to lift the burden on Dick.

His appeal to Stephanie when she tried to kill her dad is that she shouldn't ruin her own life. He gives no defense of Cluemaster's actual life. Granted this is a rhetorical strategy moment and should be taken with a generous pinch of salt, but it fits in the pattern.

When Jason becomes a willful killer, he essentially disowns him, never treats him with full trust ever again, and... Well, we can stop here for Bruce's sake. Bottom line is that his actions towards Jason do not lead me to believe that he thinks Jason can become a better person without having his autonomy taken from him, either partially or fully.

The Joker is, for better or worse, the ultimate symbol and vessel of pure, irredeemable evil in DC comics now. He hasn't been just another crook in a long time. He will never get better, he will only get worse. If you take it to be true that the Joker will not or can not rehabilitate, then there's no rehabilitationist argument against killing him.

Batman does not seem to consider it a possibly that he'll rehabilitate. Batman at several points seems to think that the Joker dying in a manner no one could have prevented would be good. Yet Batman fully believes that if he killed the Joker, he himself would become irredeemable.

Batman's own form of justice (putting people into the hospital and then prison) is fucking brutal and clearly not rehabilitative. He disrespects the most basic human rights of all criminals on a regular basis. It is genuinely really, really weird from a rehabilitationist standpoint that his only uncrossable line is killing... But it makes perfect sense if he cares more about not corrupting himself with the act of killing than the actual ethical results of any individual decision to kill or not kill.

In the real world cops are all bastards because they are too violent to criminals, even when that violence doesn't lead to death. Prison is a wildly evil thing to do to another human being, and you don't use it to steal away massive portions of a person's life if your goal is to rehabilitate them. In the comic world, Batman is said to be necessary because the corrupt cops are too nice to criminals and keep letting them out of jail. I don't know how to write a connector sentence there so like I hope you can see why this bothers me so damn much! That's just not forgiveness vibes there Batman!!

I want to make special note here of the transformative aspect. You don't simply commit a single act when you kill, no, you become a killer, like you might become a werewolf.

The narrative supports this a lot!

Why did Supes go evil during Injustice? He killed the Joker. Why did Bruce become the Batman Who Laughs? Bruce killed the Joker. Why was Jason Todd close to becoming a new Joker during Three Jokers? Because he killed people, to include the Joker.

Even if these notions of redemption being impossible aren't the whole of his reasoning (people never have only one reason for doing what they do) it is a distinct through-line pattern in his actions and reasoning, and it is directly at odds with notions of rehabilitation, redemption, and second chances.

So why does he give so many killers second chances?

Firstly because this doesn't apply to all versions of Batman. Some writers explicitly incorporate rehabilitation and forgiveness into his actions. You will be able to provide me with examples of this other through-line pattern if you go looking for them. The nature of comics is to be inconsistent.

Secondly the existence of that other pattern does not negate the existence of this one. People and characters are complex, and perfectly capable of holding two patterns of belief within themselves, even when they conflict to this degree. You can absolutely synthesize these two ideas into a single messy Batman philosophical vibescape.

Finally and most importantly to this essay: he has mercy on killers the same way that werewolf hunters sometimes have mercy on someone who is clearly struggling against their monsterous nature, especially if they were turned in exceptional circumstances or against their will. They understand that they are sick, damned beasts, cursed to always be fighting against themselves and the evil they harbor within. It is vitally kind to help them fight themselves by curtailing their autonomy in helpful ways and providing them with chances to do some good to make up for their eternal moral deficiency.

I think in many comics Batman views killers as lost souls. Battered and tormented monsters who must be pitied and given mercy wherever possible. (The connections to mental health, addiction, and rampant, horrifying ableism towards people struggling with both is unavoidable, but addressing it is sadly outside of the scope of this essay.)

Above all, the greatest care possible must be taken to never, ever let yourself become one of them, because once you have transformed the beast will forever be within you growing stronger.

To Batman, it is the most noble burden, the highest mercy, the most important commandment: Thou shalt suffer the monsters to live.

[to-the-stars8]

Reviving Love

Jason Todd x Reader Chapters AO3

Chapter 7

Jason found Roy on his couch when he entered his apartment. The redhead was laid back watching some Friends re-run and perked up upon Jason’s entering. Almost immediately he asked how it went with you the day before, and Jason, almost excitedly, rehashed all that had happened. 

“So, where are you two going,” Roy asked as soon as his friend was done. 

Jason shrugged, flipping through a sudoku book he had picked up before throwing it onto the table. “She kind of left it open-ended. I think she wants me to decide.”

“You should take her to that play they’re putting on at the park. I think it’s, uh…some Shakespeare one, I don’t know,” Roy said, picking up the disregarded book, looking at it, and then throwing it back down. “Didn’t you say your first date with her in high school was at a play?”

“Something like that,” Jason said. 

He remembered your first date, he was a sweaty mess and stuttered from how nervous he was for half the night. You, on the other hand, seemed so relaxed. Jason had wondered if that was you just being you, or if you had accepted the date out of kindness instead of liking him. It wasn’t until the end of the night, when the two of you had snuck out to the football field, that you finally let your guard down enough to nervously ask Jason for a kiss. It was then that he realized that maybe you had internally freaked out the entire time while he did so outwardly. The two of you had knocked your teeth together when going in, awkwardly pressing your lips together since neither knew fully what to do. The memory was sweet. 

He wondered if you had the same fond memory of that night. The thought was cut short when Roy threw a pillow at him, pointing down to Jason’s phone on the table, before demanding that he text you now. 

Almost instantly, he did, and Roy was enthralled. “Honestly, I think I could be a matchmaker.”

Jason snickered, “No, for all our sakes, stick to your day job. Also, technically, Dick is the matchmaker.”

“Oh? Should we call him then?” Roy started to take out his phone. Jason could not have gotten up fast enough to snatch it from his friend’s hand. “Guess that decided that, then.” 

Jason rolled his eyes, slightly annoyed, but didn’t say anything. He was too focused on asking you about the play. As soon as the text was sent, Jason looked up to see Roy staring at him excitedly. 

“So, should we go buy condoms now or…”

“Roy,” Jason sternly said, trying to hide his embarrassment. 

“Hey, don’t worry, I’m sure she won’t mind that you're a virgin.”

“Roy!” Jason swung the pillow full force at his friend, who managed to miss it by mere inches. The redhead rolled over laughing, remarking how he shouldn't be so nervous for his first time. Maybe Dick would have been a better choice to go to for advice, Jason thought. 

Jason wondered how he would tell Dick about you—If he would in the first place. In a way, he felt that his brother needed to know. After all, it was Dick who got him thinking about you again. Not only that, it wasn’t outright planned, but they were slowly drifting closer to having the relationship they should have before he died. Jason loved it, though would not say it aloud. Things were still rough with the rest of the family, but he knew that, at the end of the day, he could rely on Dick. 

Just as he thought about calling his brother, Jason’s phone rang. Looking down, he noticed that it was your face on the screen. Before he left yesterday, you had given him your number and took a quick snapshot for a contact photo. Quickly, he answered it. 

“H-hello?” Jason’s stutter caught Roy’s attention, making the man break out into a wide grin. Silently, the redhead inched over to try and hear what you were saying, though Jason tried his best to distance himself without making it obvious. 

“Hey, I just got your text, but I’m walking right now,” You said, breathing heavily into the phone. You must have been returning home from work. “I would love to go to that play. I think it’s Much Ado About Nothing, right?”

“Oh, um, maybe—A friend recommended it,” He said quickly. Roy smirked, leaning closer, managing to miss Jason’s attempt to swat at him. 

You hummed, thinking, before going on. “How about this weekend?”

“Yeah, yeah, that sounds great.” Jason didn’t know if he had any plans for the weekend, but he’d clear anything for you. 

“Fantastic,” You said, and he thought that was the end of the call. Just as Jason was about to say goodbye you started to talk again. “Oh, um, Jason?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you…This might be a little forward—I’m sorry, it seems like it’s becoming a habit,” You laughed nervously. “Do you want to come over tonight for dinner? I’m making some type of pasta I saw on TV and need someone to try it.”

Roy nodded excitedly, making gestures of kissing and some other much more obscene ones that Jason turned his back to. Jason’s heart felt like it was fluttering in his chest, so he quickly said yes. Unbeknownst to you, he heard you sigh in relief before telling him the time to come over and hang up. 

“So, about those condoms.” Roy didn’t move in time and felt Jason’s hand lightly hit him on the side of the head.

[exo-raskreia]

Gojo & the Angel Number 3612

WARNING: DELULU IDEAS

This edited image from the 11hr Shounen Jump lofi video may have more meaning than I originally thought, at least according to some translations from the Google Translate mobile app.

In this delulu post, I had briefly theorized the image could hint that both women will help in Gojo's revival, as it's like he's headed north towards them. Shoko is farther back, which after 261, could indicate her role is done (her & Yuuta healed his body). Since Utahime is at the center, it could mean she will be the key to guide Gojo's soul back.

I've wondered if there could be any more potential interpretations of this image & what I discovered actually feeds further into my delulu...

According to the mobile app, the words "trust & truth" are directly behind Gojo.

This could imply how much Gojo trusts Utahime (and vice-versa). I wonder what "truth" could mean here. The word "reality" is another translation that pops up; if this is more accurate, then could we see it as Utahime will guide Gojo back to reality, if he's not actually dead but in a state of limbo? The full word is mostly blocked by Gojo here, so I wanted to verify if these are what it really it says.

In this image with Ijichi, who's in the same location, we can see the full text. After "trust," it says either "track record" on the app, or "achievements" on the website, depending which you use.

We know Ijichi is the man Gojo trusts the most. I wonder what the other words mean. In regards to Ijichi, is it that he always achieves what Gojo makes him do? lol

In regards to Utahime, it almost seems like the kanji for "truth" was isolated so it would stand out. Wonder if it was intentional...

Next to Gojo's blindfold is seemingly the number 3612.

(This is once I selected the highlighted text to translate separately on the GojoHime image. For some reason, the number doesn't even get detected on the Ijichi image? I tried at least one other translator & got the same number).

According to Angel Number numerology, 3612 means "a sign of improvement." In this article, it elaborates on how one should fill their lives with love to have a positive impact on others' lives, & in turn, inspiring them to do the same. Sounds a lot like what Gojo strived for, right?

(I will summarize most of it with a few images).

• It tells one to seek clarity to overcome challenges & live a peaceful life.

• It tells one is about to go on a spiritual journey to reach enlightenment.

Like, seriously?! Hello?!

• If you're single, you will find love as you already know exactly what kind of person you're looking for. If you're already in a relationship, it's a sign that you're ready to commit, as you already know that person well enough to know you want to spend the rest of your life with them.

If Gojo hasn't already realized it, Utahime is the one for him 😌. He's pointing at her here, after all (341, guys? The Yagasuri pattern? 😏)... If we go with the headcanon that they could've been in a secret relationship this whole time, then Gojo might've proposed to her during the time-skip, got married already, or will do so after his return... 🤪

• It's a sign to go achieve your dreams, to believe in yourself & capabilities.

Gojo never gave up on his dreams. He did everything he could to raise stronger allies, to help his students in the battle against Sukuna. So no, Gojo did not intend to die as he said so himself in 261 to Yuuta. Gojo should return to see his dreams through.

• It's a sign to never let anyone stop you from growing & improving. Surround yourself with like-minded people.

Gojo shouldn't let this loss stop him from achieving his dreams & goals. He should see this through to the end. He will choose the path to do it.

• The breakdown of the numbers basically describes Gojo & what he should do?? 🫢

In particular, the meaning of the number 1 gives hope that things will be different & better for Gojo.

The number 2 is encouraging Gojo to let others help him, to not work alone; we've seen him ask for favors from his fellow colleagues, such as Utahime before. However, he didn't want his students to help carry his burden of becoming a "monster", which is understandable; and yet, they wanted to be there for him.

The number 612 could indicate Gojo will get support & encouragement (you know, like slaps on the back?) from his dead comrades at the airport before he departs towards his awaiting comrades in the living world?

The number 12 gives the hope that once revived, Gojo would have a new perspective, a new outlook that will allow him to finally break that barrier between himself & others, to better connect with them. He will no longer feel so isolated nor misunderstood.

• In general, 3612 comes down to not giving up & you will find success. Gojo will have to make that choice to return, to do what he had set out to do in the first place. He can't give up now, can't settle for the airport when his living comrades are still in danger. He wanted to see his dreams come true & as of right now, they have not been achieved (unless Gege intends to write a tragic story with no payoff 😑).

• I've looked up the only other legible text in the image, NVFG, but the only thing I found is that it's some kind of surgical procedure to reconstruct bones in certain parts of the body? Like legs & neck? Something like that (the medical terminology is so confusing, lol, so take this with a grain of salt). Which, ironically, kinda fits with what happened to Gojo? His neck was intact though; his head remained attached to his body, indicating that his RCT was not compromised...

• The word "trust" & this number being placed in between GojoHime here is interesting. Are they trying to hint at us that Utahime still has a role to play? That she may do something to help Gojo reach enlightenment? Like in this theory? Whether it was deliberate or not, it's still fun to headcanon.

I'm not sure how accurate what I got is anyway; the number could just be a mistranslation. If it's completely wrong, then man, what an eerie coincidence...

If any of you have better luck translating the remaining text in the image (like the text right above Utahime), or even make more sense of the translations here, let me know! Not to mention, is the background in this image present anywhere in the manga? If so, any ideas on what the building is? If anyone finds anything on it, let me know!

Don't know if Gege actually believes in this stuff nor if it was even intentional, but he has shown to be quite the number nerd... Once again, this is just an observation based on my research & it really feeds into my delulu.

[uniquexusposts]

Her || Charles

Main characters: Charles Leclerc x OC Genre: fanfiction, fluff  Story type: novel  Part: 20/? Word count: 2858 Co writer: @mistrose23

Story summary: Matilde Jørgensen, the new Scuderia Ferrari team principal, faced the nerve-wracking challenge of reviving the team's fortunes and aiming for a championship. Leading a historic team as a 'newbie' and separating her work and personal opinions posed a significant challenge. The big question: is she capable to do so?

Previous chapter

Chapter 18. Statement

"Buongiorno," Charles greeted his colleagues when he entered the engineer's truck. His eyes scanned the people who had already sat on their spots. He missed one person, but she must be getting some tea or coffee.

His colleagues greeted him back. Charles sat down in his designated spot next to Matilde, who usually would sit at the head of the long table. It would give her an overview of the team. Charles noticed how her seat was untouched, her notebook and laptop weren't there, just like the tangerine she always ate every morning. It had only happened once that she was late and that was on her first day. It became normal to arrive and see Matilde already sitting there. She was the first to arrive and the last to leave.

Carlos entered the room. "Sorry for being late. There are so many fans out there," he apologised. He sat down across from Charles. He looked at Matilde's spot. "Where's Matilde?" He was surprised.

"Late," an engineer replied.

"Oh. Weird."

Even though the meeting had to begin when Carlos entered the room, people were still busy with preparations. Some didn't mind having a few extra minutes, but it was unusual.

Ten minutes had passed the designated starting time and Matilde was still nowhere to be seen. Members started to exchange puzzled glances. Even if Matildle was a minute late, she would tell someone about it. Her being ten minutes late already, was not right.

"Did someone try to call Matilde yet?" one of the engineers finally suggested.

"I already tried. No answer," someone else answered.

"And Galileo? Did someone try to contact him?"

"Shouldn't we just begin? We need to get this done before we run out of time."

"No, let's just wait for a bit longer. She must be on her way," another voice chimed in, hope lingering in the words.

"I texted Galileo," someone else mentioned.

Just seconds after that, Galileo and Silvia entered the room. Their presence alone was enough to signal that something was amiss. The usual smiles were absent, replaced by expressions of concern. They were never at a briefing like this.

"Can I get everyone's attention, please," Galileo's voice cut through the room, making sure everyone stopped with whatever they were doing. He took a moment to survey the room. "As you have noticed, we are missing the team principal today. Matilde will not be present today, tomorrow, and Sunday," he announced, causing eyebrows to raise in collective surprise. She had never missed one day of work.

A murmur of questions and confusion rippled through the room. Carlos, unable to contain his worry, spoke up first. "What? Why? What happened?"

"We are only allowed to share with the team that Matilde is hospitalised for a personal reason," Galileo responded somberly.

More questions were being asked about the situation.

"Her family has kindly requested that we not contact Matilde until she reaches out to us herself. We will not have a replacement for this weekend, so we must do it together."

Silvia nodded in agreement, her usual vibrant energy subdued. "We will publish a statement in a moment, written by Matilde's family. Charles and Carlos, when talking to the media or someone else who asks about it, you will say she will not be here at the track until further explanation. There will probably get some fuzz around it, let them be, but don't say anything about the hospital. Galileo and I are informed about the situation, but the media doesn't have to know it yet. They asked not to share it because they are still waiting on some results and do not want to share it yet. But do know that she is fine and not in a life-threatening situation. It is a private matter and for you, a team matter. For your further information, Christian Horner and Toto Wolff were there when it happened, but they have also been requested not to share anything with anyone. For now, that is all we know and all we can share. When we get an update, you will be the first to know about it. For questions about it, you know where to find me."

A sense of collective shock settled over the room, the usual camaraderie replaced by an atmosphere of uncertainty. The team members were left with more questions than answers, their concern for Matilde was palpable.

"May I ask why Matilde's family is in control of all the communications? Just curious to know..." one team member ventured, voicing the questions that echoed in the minds of many.

Silvia exchanged a glance with Galileo before responding. "Matilde's family is handling the situation because they value their privacy, and we respect that. Matilde's brother is a press officer and will be dealing with this for now. Let's focus on the tasks at hand and wish Matilde a swift recovery. Updates will follow when we have them."

"We do have a card, so if you would like to write something down, please, do it," Galileo mentioned and gave a massive 'Get Well Soon' card to Charles.

"Can it be stress?" Charles worriedly asked. He knew he had created a lot of fuzz and stress last week. He was worried this could be his fault.

"That's something we cannot share, Charles," Silvia weakly smiled.

He silently gasped for air; he had caused this. Fear flickered in his eyes. "Okay," Charles mumbled and opened the card. As he grabbed a pen, his mind became blank. He stared at the empty card, processing the situation.

The room fell into a contemplative silence, the weight of the unknown casting a shadow over what should have been a routine morning briefing. The Silverstone weekend had begun under a cloud of uncertainty, and the Scuderia Ferrari team found themselves navigating uncharted territory without their leader.

- press statement -

Official Statement from the Family of Matilde Jørgensen and Scuderia Ferrari

Dear Scuderia Ferrari and Formula 1 Fans,

We want to inform you that Matilde has been admitted to the hospital for a medical concern that requires some attention. We want to assure everyone that she is currently stable and receiving the necessary medical care. We understand the desire for more details, but we kindly request your understanding and respect for our family's privacy during this sensitive time.

At this time, Matilde needs some space for rest and recovery. Consequently, she will not be present for the upcoming weekend, and we appreciate your understanding regarding her absence. The medical team is taking good care of her, and we are hopeful for a swift and smooth recovery.

As always, we are grateful for Matilde's support and love from the Ferrari family, the Formula 1 community, and fans worldwide. We kindly request respect for our privacy during this period and will keep you updated as necessary.

Thank you for your understanding and warm wishes.

Sincerely,

The Jørgensen Family and Scuderia Ferrari

* * *

It didn't stay unnoticed that there was one team principal missing during the Friday at Silverstone. The news travelled fast through the paddock and beyond. As the morning unfolded, whispers of concern reverberated through the media centre, press rooms and social media platforms. The press release from the family and team confirmed some of the rumours, and photos and videos that were taken last evening - a few fans spotted the rushing ambulance leaving the paddock in the evening, causing so many rumours - but it was Matilde who was taken to the hospital.

Reports were exchanging speculative theories about Matilde's sudden absence. Twitter and other social media channels became flooded with questions and speculation because the statement provided minimal details. It confirmed her hospitalisation, but left the reason shrouded in mystery. Fans and media were craving information about the young team principal. The lack of information became a breeding ground for rumours and speculation.

The week began with all its focus on the huge sporting event in the weekend, but it quickly shifted to the missing and hospitalised team principal.

The whispers and speculations reached a crescendo when fans began piecing together the timeline of events. Fans witnessed the fallout back in Spielberg last weekend, could that be a reason for the absence? The realisation that Matilde was taken from the track to the hospital stirred a wave of anxiety among the Ferrari faithful. Concerned messages flooded the team's social media accounts, asking for updates and offering words of support.

The team was just as affected as the fans were. The first free practice was full of mistakes, especially by Charles. He was distracted and that was noticeable; messy mistakes in the corners, delayed reactions and the times were off. He blamed himself for Matilde's absence and it weighed heavily on his shoulders. He had been a pain in the arse to her, he gave her a hard time. What if he went too far?

Throughout the entire day, he kept reading the speculations on social media. He didn't know what kind of impact it had on the fans, but it was probably caused by the not-saying-much press release.

Tweets:

"MATILDE IS HOSPITALISED??? WHAT HAPPENED TO HER???"

"Just heard a theory about Matilde's absence at Silverstone - some say it might be stress-related burnout. Hoping for her speedy recovery!!!"

"Heard some dark whispers about Matilde leaving due to internal team clashes. It might be the reason why Matilde collapsed during the team principal's meeting. Hope it's just wild speculation!"

"Ferrari is no good to their team principles. Maybe Matilde collapsed due to all the fights within the team. Everyone does what they want to do in the team. What is going on?!"

Nobody in the team was aware of a sudden departure, but to Charles, it kinda wouldn't be a surprise after the way everyone treated her, including him. Gossip travelled fast through the paddock and over the internet, just like wild theories.

However, the day continued and Charles still had to see the media after the free practices.

"Charles, tough day out there on the track. Can you walk us through your day and the challenges you faced?" F1TV asked.

"Yeah, it was a bit of a tricky one today. We struggled a bit with the balance of the car during the first practice. We were trying some new setups, and it didn't go as smoothly as we hoped." Charles honestly replied and looked around while talking, he never looked the interviewer in the eyes during the interview. "The car felt a bit unpredictable, especially through the high-speed corners. But we have collected enough data, so we will work on it."

The interviewer nodded. "We saw during the second practice that you improved some runs. It seemed like you had it under control."

"Yes, we made some adjustments and it did feel better, but we're still not where we want to be," Charles replied. He was glad the man was only asking about the practices. It felt like he finally could answer properly and think about something else. "We are working hard to analyse the data and find some solutions for tomorrow, for qualifying, and of course, for Sunday." He showed a brief, but promising smile.

"The world is all thinking of Matilde's absence, did it have any impact on the team's performances today?"

Cheered too soon. "Well, it's certainly a bit different not having Matilde around. We all miss her, and I think it's been a bit of a challenge for everyone."

"Fans are speculating about Matilde's situation. Some say it's a reaction to your clash last week in Spielberg, that it caused her to be overstressed and perhaps even burnout. We've seen quite some moments that didn't go smoothly between her and the team. Do you have anything to say to that?"

Charles took a deep breath, recollecting his thoughts. "Uh... I wish I could provide more information, but honestly, I don't have my details. Matilde's family and the team have asked for privacy, and we respect that. All I can say is that we're sending our best wishes her way, and we hope to have her back with us soon," he replied. It was a scripted response, he had to learn that from Silvia and so far, it worked well. "But," he said before the reporter would ask his next question. Charles wanted to share that they made it up. He didn't have the chance to say it to anyone. "About the situation in Spielberg, we talked about it, and we're fine. I also spoke to Carlos and Max, we're all fine now. It was an unfortunate moment, and I'm not proud of it, but we have to look ahead of us, not behind us."

"Thank you for sharing this, Charles. We wish Matilde the best, and we hope to see her soon again."

"Thank you," Charles nodded and returned to the Ferrari hospitality.

"You didn't have to say the last part," the press officer mentioned.

"I wanted to."

The entire team made themselves ready for the debrief again. The engineers were already sharing some points with each other, others were enjoying an espresso, and some people were scrolling through special media.

"Guys," one of the engineers said. "There's a tweet going around that Matilde collapsed due to an addiction issue."

Silence fell in the room, and looks were shared. It was like someone pressed the pause button, no one was moving or saying anything.

"I heard a reporter say that the hospitalisation is linked to high blood pressure due to an unconfirmed pregnancy," someone else added.

Charles sat down on his chair, he was lost in the sea of rumours, the uncertainty gnawing at him.

One of the engineers noticed the unease in the room and took charge. "Alright, people, let's focus. For whatever reason Matilde is hospitalised, it still doesn't change the fact that we will support her. Whatever is circulating out there, is just speculation. We will hear from her once she is ready. But we have a job to do, and that's what we'll do now."

Everyone shifted their attention back to the technical details, the debriefing starting, but Charles remained distracted. The rumours circulating about Matilde's conduction were like a storm in his mind, each one more unsettling than the last. As the debrief continued, Charles had ups and downs regarding his concentration. When he needed to be focused, he was focused, but when it wasn't about him, his mind drifted away.

Luckily for Charles, the debrief came to an end quickly. He had to find Max, perhaps he knew something more about Matilde. He walked to the Red Bull's hospitality like he had one goal and one goal only.

"What are you doing here?" Max confusedly asked, he was walking around with his dinner, trying to find a spot to eat.

"Matilde... Do you know if she's okay?"

Max glanced around, making sure no one was in earshot. He signed to Charles that he could enter the cafeteria. They sat down in the corner of the area, where they had some privacy. "I don't have all the details, mate. But from what I've heard, it's serious enough that they're keeping it all under wraps. Toto and Christian were there when it happened, but even they are tight-lipped."

"But you are close to her..."

"I tried to call her, but her brother picked up the phone, not giving much information."

Charles felt a lump in his throat. "What do you think happened?"

"No idea. But you know Matilde, she's tough. She'll pull through."

Charles nodded, trying to hide the worry etched on his face. "But all those rumours," he breathed. "Stress, burnout, depression, clashes in the team. Maybe I'm the cause, maybe I pushed her to the limit and now she collapsed because I am a dickhead. And the rumours about an addiction, or unconfirmed pregnancy. I even heard that she had a miscarriage because of the stress I give her." He looked and sounded hopeless, a side Max hadn't seen of him yet.

"Don't blame yourself for things you don't know," Max replied.

"I just can't shake off this feeling that I could've done something differently."

"We all have those moments. But right now, she needs our support. If there's anything you can do, it's to stay focused on the race, keep the team together, and give her the strength she needs when she comes back."

Charles looked at Max, making eye contact, his eyes reflecting a mix of gratitude and distress. "I hope she comes back."

"She will." Max observed Charles' body language. Charles had a hard time hiding his emotions, and the situation was taking a personal toll on him. Max could see that Charles genuinely cared about Matilde, and the worry for her well-being weighed heavily on his shoulders. It was a stupid thought, but perhaps that was the reason why Charles couldn't get along with Matilde.

"You care about her, don't you?" Max asked, his tone gentle.

Charles sighed, not attempting to mask his emotions. "Yeah, I do," he whispered, running his hand through his hair. "More than I probably should, given our position. She's my team principal. The entire team is, was, shocked, but they can handle it. I...I just can't stop thinking about the things I've done to her."

"She'll be fine. And none of this is your fault."

Next chapter

Taglist: @itsjustkhaos @crashingwavesofeuphoria@maryvibess @chocolatefartstrawberry @snzleclerc

[cookierunauprompts]

I just finished watching King Kong (2005) and this idea hit me like a truck: Shadow Milk Cookie as King Kong and Y/N Cookie as Ann Darrow!

i have never seen king kong but i sorta understand like... the tiniest bit about it.... So uh, Reader's getting kidnapped for this one as that's pretty much the only thing i know from King Kong.

Requested Prompts #44 - 💓

" White Lily Cookie! Don't! It's a trap!" You try to scream out, but no matter what you say nothing can reach White Lily's ears as she was trapped within your captor's maze. You watched as the flurry of the new guardian's magic went towards the fake tree, reviving it almost instantly to the shock of the eerily real-seeming fake Shadow Milk Cookie. You were the only one to have realized that it was fake, so he'd given the group a question that he knew they'd get wrong no matter what. Thus he'd taken you prisoner back in the 'real' world, one that looked a lot like the world within the Maze of Deceit except the key difference was that there was a lot more goopy, abyssal shadows littered with blue eyes staring at everything. You silence yourself with a yelp as one of the beast's fingers press into your head, because yes he does have actual hands apparently. " Ah ah ah!" You heard him tut, " I don't believe that this play needs any input from the audience, does it now?" Shadow Milk hummed, bringing you up to his face so you could look into his calculating gaze. " Besides, they can't hear you anymore anyways, so why even bother?" You hesitate, he was right and you knew it. You almost instantly deflated, your prior determination to escape filtering out of you like air from a balloon with a hole in it. " Aw, you look so cute when you're all hopeless like that! It's almost making me reconsider your position as prisoner!" He cooed, poking at your face with his claw(not the tip of it though). " I doubt that there's anything worse than being a prisoner to you." You groan, leaning away from his touch. A shriek is pulled from your throat as Shadow Milk grabs onto the sliver tree, or at least what remains of it. He spins around it like those character in musicals sometimes do with poles before hoisting himself up to sit between the branches as if they were a throne. " I' wouldn't be too sure about that~!" He teased, holding you up in front of his face. You doubted that, and it showed on your face. " No offense, but I doubt that there is." You said rather un-enthusiastically. " You really think so?" The beast grinned in an almost wild manner, you got the feeling you said something you really shouldn't have. " Because i can think of a lot of things! Of course, I won't be listing all of them for the sake of our family friendly audience. But there are much worse fates than being a prisoner to me!" " Like... like what?" You asked hesitantly. " Hmm..." He leaned in close, eyes shining brightly as he stared down at you. Some kind of deranged hunger slipping into his expression as he did so. " Like being a little snack." You froze up, the pause between that and his next statement being far too long for your liking. " Oh I'm only joking! There's no need to fret, I don't intend to cannibalize you... yet." You squeaked with fear, leaning away as much as you could as he threw his head back into a maniacal laugh. " Oh you're just so gullible- it's adorable!" He mused, a grin that was still far too wide plastered on his face. " I think I might have to keep you, even if Silly-Lily tries to seal me back up in the tree for real!" Well, at least now you know that unless the others save you you're probably screwed. Yippee.

[ross-hollander]

Another brainwave of 'mech design that shouldn't have been allowed off the drawing board: as REVIVAL progressed, the Timber Wolf came into the focus of Spheroid analysis. Here was a 'mech, commanders who faced it and lived said, that was the ultimate generalist: it could do just about anything, and do it well. In some circles conspiracies circulated that the Timber Wolf was a vanguard super-'mech, and the claims that it was produced on any large scale had to be bluffs. A number of "Copy CATs" were produced as Spheroid armies tried to reverse-engineer this stalwart design, such as:

the Stray, whose heat-sink placement meant you had to disassemble the entire thing down to the bare frames to change a single armor plate.

the TW-S, which had a balance system so poor it routinely knocked itself over by firing the missile array.

the Project LUPUS, whose armoring put it into the Assault grade and had a field of view so narrow it could be ambushed from just about anywhere but straight ahead.

the XW-Wolf-1.5, built from mismatched and second-hand salvage parts. Technically it worked fine, for about four minutes before the reactor fell out because it had melted its casing.

[hiwelcometothemonstersancturary]

So, did Smilling Critters really die out here? Wouldn't there be some kind of way for them to still be alive, or for the prototype to revive them? It's because I would like to see them here in your AU, mainly I would like to see CatNap apologize to them and have an emotional meeting with all of them.

(besides, you have a great AU, I loved it the first time it was posted :D)

AAAAAAAAA, thank you so much!!! I'm glad you like my AU!

I have been going on and off about letting the other Smiling Critters have a permanent death in my AU or not, but I think that for the "main version" of the AU they will be gone. Permanent type of gone.

In my own headcanons, PickyPiggy ate the remains of CraftyCorn, Bubba Bubbaphant and KickinChicken. I still don't know if I prefer her to have been so hungry she ended up turning on her friends, or if an accident happened and she was so hungry she ate their bodies. Either way, she also tried to attack Bobby, with Hoppy and Dogday stopping it from happening and leaving her behind. Hoppy died during an accident while the trio was running from Catnap, and Bobby died soon after. Again, I don't know how she died: Either a broken heart from losing so many of her friends, or from a critical injury from trying to save Dogday.

I think most of their bodies if not all of them were claimed by the Prototype, so in theory they could be brought back. In practice, however, all of this started because Elliot Ludwig couldn't accept the fact his daughter would be gone and desperately wanted her to have a chance to live. Angel and Prototype both know Dogday and Catnap miss their friends, and the duo's ever-increasing guilt is only going to get worse as they process their trauma, but bringing their friends back from the dead is not the way to do it. Deep down Angel wants to try that, but they can't and shouldn't. And it hurts, yes, but they can't allow the cycle to continue.

... ON THE OTHER HAND. Good God do I wish I could bring these dumb critters back from the dead, or at least make it so that Catnap trapped everyone/sent them to the Playtime Co's equivalent of the shadowrealm or maximum security prison, and Angel has to save them and stitch them back together during chapter 4. OR, EVEN, everyone discovering the other critters were still alive when the authorities go in to investigate the factory and find them very malnourished, but still alive.

IN MY OPINION Picky would have a hard time eating, thanks to her trying to eat her own friends. She goes vegan because even the smell of meat makes her stomach curl, and she decides to try gardening around the isolated house. She can't look most of the other toys in the face due to trauma, but she's trying so hard.

Kickin picked beef with both Mommy Long Legs and Kissy Missy. MLL finds him to be a sort of "annoying little brother", and Kissy is always making an >:( expression with some of the things Kickin tries to do. His way of coping is via trying to fill himself with hobbies. He gets diagnosed with ADHD and surprises no one.

Bobby has abandonment issues, becomes Long Legs' and Kissy's best friend, and now they NEVER leave each other's side. Bobby tries romance books and movies, only to realize what really soothes her anxious mind is, ironically, horror. And Doom. Lots of Doom. She also takes responsibility in helping take care of the younger toys, and I think she's also the first to fully accept Catnap's apologies. She hugs him and he becomes close to crying, then she starts sobbing and they're both hugging each other and crying. Her right arm needs extensive treatment due to her getting it badly injured, though.

Craftycorn has a 50/50 chance of becoming an Youtuber or influencer and no one can't change my mind, girl is the queen of MySpace /j. But being serious, she, much like Bobby, has abandonment issues, but is also TERRIFIED of the dark thanks to Playtime. It also takes her a long time to go back into drawing, and an even longer time to pick up any red pencils. It reminds her of blood. This however does end with her finding out drawing horrifying creatures helps her cope with her anxiety! Second to forgive Catnap and acquires an habit of making outfits and trinkets for the other toys. Also she has to wear braces on her hands and is always grumpy when her hands (hooves?) start hurting.

Bubba... My baby. My poorest boy. Mentally speaking, he seems to be the most well-adjusted, until he finds out he keeps forgetting what he reads or studies. He tries to play it cool, to be a helping hand to poor Dogday and Angel, tries to learn everything from the other toys so he can start making plans on what he wants to do for this future, but he just. Can't think about a future. And a few months later it's 3AM and he can't stop crying and chewing on his own pillows, and he feels awful and he keeps forgetting things and why does every little thing bothers him SO much, his recovery has been going so well, why is it happening? And then the flashbacks happen, and oooh boy, he does NOT escape the PTSD and burnout diagnosis. Much like Craftycorn he's extremely grumpy about his symptons, but Bobby and Crafty are trying to help him be kinder to himself.

Hoppy would probably need at least an year or two to physically recover from her injuries. She hates the fact her legs got so badly hurt during her time at Playco, and for the first few weeks she's grumpy, very easily startled, and very mean to others. It takes her the longest to even look at Catnap without wanting to murder him. Catnap sometimes wishes she had never started to forgive him, because now the only one left to forgive him is himself. Also I think Hoppy is the second one hit with the ADHD diagnosis, surprising no one.

Also. Ahem. All of them are besties with Miss Delight, who helps some of them try to understand Catnap more. Our big feline is constantly worrying about hurting his friends again and his guilt is eating him from the INSIDE OUT, but at least Dogday is there to help him. Speaking of which!

Don't tell anyone but Dogday has been smoking and drinking. He's 21, tired, and therapy is a long process. He thinks he's hiding well from everyone else (he can't be a bad example to them!) until, again, 3AM hits and he sees Mommy Long Legs smoking and Catnap coming back from the Prototype's barn smelling like alcohol. So all three of them stare at each other like "...", until they hear something falling down inside.

Surprise surprise, it's a drunk Angel.

THANKFULLY. These bad habits will eventually go away as, again, they recover from the trauma and start finding healthier coping mechanisms. But until then everything is MESSYYYYYY

... Okay now I'm once again reconsidering the idea of bringing them back from the dead or not rip-

[goodolddumbbanana]

TO BE MIRROR AU [4]

An Au when Sun is dead (by Nexus), Dark Sun pretends to be Sun while trying to find some way to revive Sun in secret. Nexus's break down, maybe get some redemption. Everyone is not having a good time except Sun, that poor boy only when he is dead (temporarily) can has some rest.

Warning: Bad grammar cuz I am not very smart.

Summary: Sun is dead, or in a coma, and is being hidden by Dark Sun in his laboratory. Dark Sun pretends to be Sun and has just finished his shift.

The kindergarten is bustling with children's laughter. Looming in the doorway, a yellow animatronic with sun-like rays wearing a clown theme, enthusiastically returned the group of children to their parents.

"Bye Evans!! See you tomorrow Jason!! Yes! I see it, your art is very beautiful Alice!---"

It's time for the kids to go home, and every single day, the kindergarten is overcrowded with tired parents or children crying begging to stay, gathering like termite nests, making Sun even with Earth and Lunar’s help, still felt like his battery is about to run out.

"Sun, are you okay?" Earth asks, her voice fills with concern. Everyone has noticed that Sun seemed tired recently, but her brother kept insisting he was fine.

"Ah... yeah..." Sun laughs nervously. Sun's high-pitched voice turns his words into a jumbled nonsense, and his hand waves awkwardly in the air before falling to his side.

"It's just... Er--- Meeting N-Nexus again... makes me feel... A little of conflict..."

"Oh... Sun" Earth's eyes softens. The return of Nexus seemed to reopen an open wound in the celestial family, especially when this time, he tried to kill both Sun and Moon.

She wants to say that she understands the feeling of betrayal that is tearing at Sun's heart right now, but she knows that Sun's feelings about Nexus are more complicated than that. Nexus was not only the person closest to and cares about Sun the most, he was also the one who gives Sun hope that things will be different from now on, that Moon will become better.

The dull phantom pain echo on Earth's arm served as a painful reminder of why Nexus was forced to leave, why she couldn't call Nexus her brother without feeling disappointed and a brustling tear inside her chest.

"Oh I'm sorry Earth... I shouldn't have said it... I... just---" Sun rubs his hand, his fingers fumbling over the red ribbon on his wrist.

"--- Is it strange that I feel like I miss Nexus despite... all he's done?"

"...I don't know, Sun." Earth spoke slowly. She pushs her cloudy hair aside, her hand caressing the smooth wool fabric of the pink shirt she wore. "I personally miss Nexus too... but Nexus has done many terrible things..."

"Yeah..." Sun says shakily. "He hurt you, Earth. And Moon and Lunar too..."

Earth realizes her brother has ignored himself, but she says nothing else. That is for another day.

The daycare still looks as cheerful as ever, it's hard to believe how much has happened. As if Nexus's voice still lingered in her ears, even the most beautiful memories and the most terrible moments intertwined, causing Earth to lose her rhythm in space.

A hand gently touches her elbow, the rattle sounds like a drop of water dropped into a still lake.

"E--Earth?? Are you okay?" Her aqua blue eyes meets Sun's worried silver pupils. Her brother looks at her worriedly, his hands clumsy as if he wants to hug her but stopped midway. "I'm sorry Earth. I made you sad over nothing."

"No... No... I'm glad you shared, Sun." Earth waves. "It really makes me feel better... Knowing that I'm not the only one missing M-- Nexus... I know that with Moon around, you're often hesitant to share things like this..."

"Yeah..." Sun says hesitantly. "So... Do you want to play a game? We can play that Princess Makeup game you like? And I'll make some extra fries?"

"Does it bother you, Sun? Since you've been working all day?"

"Nah... It won't take long. And we can drag Lunar to watch a movie with us, any princess movie you like. It'll be fun. Uhm--- That's right, A Family Night ! I'll ask if Moon has finished his work... There's food so I guess Moon won't refuse."

Earth's face lit up, her eyes sparkled with fireflies. She shooks her cloudy hair, her whole body almost standing on tiptoe.

"Have I ever said that you are the best brother?"

Sun giggles, her brother's back hunches slightly, as if still not used to positive compliments. The two walked through the portal, seeing lying on the sofa were two moon-themed animatronics.

"Earth, help me!! Moon refuses to give me the TV remote!!"

"Why don't you just go downstairs?" Sun's voice mixed with laughter, like the steaming hiss of a kettle.

"Because I'm already lying down, Sun! I can't move anymore!!!"

"What do you mean you can't move anymore!!! Just get up!!"

"Easily for you, Sun!!! I can't move!!!"

"Hey Earth." Earth turned around, for a moment, Nexus's image merged with Moon's image and then disappeared in the blink of her eye.

"Oh hello Moon. What are you doing?"

"Popcorn." Moon just said that with a mouth full of butter, with eyes staring at the TV. What cartoon is this? Apparently it is Monkie kid show, the show that Earth has never seen before, only heard Sun and Moon talk back and forth a few times.

"Great, I was just going to call and ask if you were coming home today early… Guess I don't need to do that anymore… Seeing how much fun you two have…"

Sun crossed his arms, Earth could feel his brother's eye twitching slightly at the mess the two brothers made on the floor.

Both Lunar and Moon immediately reflexively pointed at each other and shouted.

"IT IS LUNAR'S FAULT!!"

"YOU BASTARD!!! YOU EAT IT ALL UP AND TELL ME TO BLAME THE CATS!!!

Popcorn splashes everywhere. A bottle flew through the air, pouring sauce onto the new carpet, splashing Sun.

Silence spread in the air.

Then, Sun sighs, a very long and helpless sigh.

"I'm going to the bathroom to clean up." Sun's finger points to the floor and gestures at her brother's eyes. "When I get out, I don't want to see any more trash on the ground."

His response was two more sighs filled with frustration.

"Okay, Sun."

"Yeah... Yeah... I'll do it, Sun.

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

'Sun' enters the bathroom, he could still hear the murmuring sounds of Moon and Lunar.

"It's your fault."

"Nu uh, it's your fault."

"Lunar. You piece of--!?"----

A small giggle rang out in the bathroom space, the mirror showing a shiny yellow body smiling reluctantly. The beams on his head were smeared with orange grease, and the fringe of his dress was smeared with something brown.

'Sun' lowers his face to the sink, the cool water touching his metal plate. The liquid flowed through 'Sun's' hand, splashed onto the wall, and formed droplets of water onto the silver bell he had carefully placed on the shelf.

'Sun'' face flickers in the mirror, the slight smile from before disappeared, drifting with the water, replaced by an empty look. Silver eyes blurred in red, the innate nervous awkwardness of the animatronic named 'Sun' disappeared, replaced by the indifferent face of Dark Sun.

A gentle voice, without any stuttering, rang out in the quiet, soundproof space.

"Lunar and Earth are both fine. It's just Moon being obnoxious as usual."

"I really want it all to end right now, to see Moon's smug face turn into an ugly miserable expression."

"But the thought of you looking down on me for not being able to do something as simple as pretending makes me want to keep persevering until everything is on track again."

"..."

"You have quite a lovely family, Sun. It's a shame the person here isn't you, eh?"

The person in the mirror is incapable of responding.

"Hmm... Who am I kidding?" Dark Sun shook his head. The meaningless promise of a dead man suddenly became a shackle that made it impossible for Dark Sun to leave.

"I heard about Earth and Lunar. Admit it, you like being with them." Sun's high-pitched, stuttering voice collided with Dark Sun's monotone and condescending voice.

They still remained wary of each other, but in the tight confines of these rainy days, in this room, a silent agreement allowed for a civil dialogue between two people who were neither enemies nor friends.

"It's just an act, Sun. Don't express it so haphazardly." Dark Sun continued to kill the zombies on the screen, the rain creating a gentle background sound, making the space they were in as if they belonged to a barrier that only they could enter.

"You're full of bullshit, you know. Why don't you admit that my sisters are fun to be with?" Sun responded irritably, eyes looking up at the screen trying to aim for Tom's head.

"Then Why don't you just admit that you have a lot of problems you refuse to acknowledge it and even though you think you have higher morals than me, the one who killed your own brother and made two others leave was you?"

"..."

"That's exactly what I thought."

Dark Sun felt the person next to him shrink a bit, a feeling of guilt, something he thought he had buried a long time ago, suddenly throbbed like a ghost in his heart.

He still needs Sun to like him. Not so much for them to become friends (the whisper in his head screamed that it could never happen because of who he is right now) but for Sun to let down his guard towards him.

So should he apologize? Dark Sun remembers how kind and sensitive he used to be, but he also remembers how Moon used to scream at him to suck it up and let it go.

Consolation is no longer in Dark Sun's dictionary, because no matter how he tries, Moon still gets angry and takes it out on him. No amount of pleading or silence could dispel Moon's unpredictable anger. And gradually, Sun stopped trying to make peace... and just endured, endured, and endured... Until he just can't...

"I don't understand you, Dark Sun. Why can you be another version of me, but the difference between us can be so big?"

"Hmm?" Dark Sun blinked, he smiled faintly. Sun's silver eyes reflect Dark Sun's red shadow. "So does it make you feel sad? Disappointed?"

"..."

"I'm you, I know what you think. You really don't have to be so shy towards me."

"...Isn't it fun? To manipulate things to your will like that? I heard the stories Moon told. You killed your Moon, you did things I never thought I would be able to do ... You don't care if you hurt the people around you or not..."

Dark Sun interrupted, his hand unconsciously holding the remote a little too tightly.

"Don't lie to yourself, we both know it's not true. If you had the same chance as me, you would have done it, maybe even worse than me." Dark Sun almost yelled.

"...Unlike you, I don't want to hurt others." Sun softly whispers.

"But in reality, aren't you still doing that? Lunar, Moon, Nexus, is there anyone you're close to who hasn't been hurt by your naivety?"

"... Is this about me or about you?"

The air was filled with tension. Their conversations always ended like this. Uncomfortable. Forced. Confinement. Feeling of inhibition scraping through the lungs without being able to speak. But for some reason, they continued to rush at each other like moths, continuing their damn habit of sitting and playing video games together.

Call it self-therapy. Call it self-hate.

There are too many entanglements and secret goals between the two, making it impossible for them to communicate like normal people even if they try.

Dark Sun denies his need for friendship. Sun refuses to feel comfortable with a man who murdered his own brother.

Both try to live in their own comfort lies.

"Try to build yourself a backbone, then maybe you'll be able to understand why I'm the way I am."

"... It's funny how you keep saying that, when you know I could never leave Moon." Sun replied quietly.

The ghost of the words still seemed to pass through Dark Sun's ears.

There is a loud banging on the door, Sun's Moon---Moon shouted outside.

"Hurry up Sun, the movie is about to start."

"Here-- I'm coming!!" 'Sun' shouted stutteringly. "I am combing my hair!!!"

"You don't have hair, Sun!!"

"YES I DO, MOON!!"

Blinking at the reflection, instead of the image of 'Sun' that appeared, a Moon with a ruined face and broken body looking back at Dark Sun.

A grim, helpless sigh echoes in Dark Sun's throat.

"...Sometimes I wish you would. It would make everything a lot easier."