#when everyone else including her son were all in the same state

[lancabbage]

Some idiots claiming YZYs abusive actions were justified because of the historical and cultural setting of MDZS... Because I used this very argument against one of their little friends and their claims WWX's revenge and JGYs are similar, and if WWX could be "excused" so could JGYs.

Firstly, there's a fine line between discipline and unnecessary cruelty. What YZY does crosses that line unequivocally. She does this not only physically, but mentally. She wears him down with lashing of both vicious tongue and cracking whip. Yes, discipline is very much part of that era, but singling out one child specifically and beating them for reasons that are far from punishable is abuse no matter what. Let's not forget WWXs back was covered in scares, both new and old. These are marks from a high-class spiritual weapon! This is not an official method used for disciplinary purposes.

And the major thing here is, it's not JUST the setting that shows us how the MDZS universe works, but MXTXs worldbuilding and the examples of what is expected culturally in her fiction. The Yi City arc shows us how revenge works in her universe - similar to the era. She also shows us what is acceptable punishment and how such things are carried out in the Cloud Recesses arc - again, somewhat similar to the era. These are shown to the reader so we understand the clear boundaries world and the rules MXTX has set in place in her fic.

It really is all there in black and white if you'd just actually read 🤣

[canonicallyobserving911]

Buck & Eddie: Baking Muffins vs. Baking Cookies

Since it aired, I've posted several times that 6x13 "Mixed Feelings" was my favorite episode of season 6 and it was the finale for me. I'm not sure why 6x14 - 6x18 ended or played out the way they did but I still believe there was a reason for 6x13 to air when it did and why it was before all the BS that happened afterwards.

I've watched all six of Buck's and Eddie's, Buck's and Chris' and the Buckley Diaz Family's scenes numerous times and every time I do, I find something that was a callback to previous episodes. I've already done a post on the significance of Buck bringing cookies to Eddie's house in 3x11 compared to him baking them with Chris in 6x13 (linked here) but this post is different because it parallels the scene Buck had with Chris from 6x13 to another scene Chris had with one of Eddie's previous relationships.

The scene from 6x13 with Buck and Chris included some parallels and callbacks to the scene from 5x3 with Eddie, Chris and Ana.

Baking muffins vs. Baking cookies

First, in 5x3 after the blackout, Eddie went home to BREAKUP WITH ANA. He was there with her and Chris after she baked enough muffins to feed a classroom full of children. But in 6x13, Eddie WASN'T THERE and he left their son with his second dad while they baked cookies for Chris' class. Reminder, when Eddie met Ana, she was Chris' teacher but in season 3 SHE DIDN'T TELL EDDIE HOW TO HELP CHRIS SKATEBOARD BUT BUCK DID! They worked together to help Chris do something he obviously wanted to do even though Ana started telling Eddie about novels🙄. Also, in 6x13, Buck specifically said they needed to make enough cookies for Chris' whole class. Eddie just dipped like he did in 3x1 after he dropped Chris off with "his Buck" and was probably like, "It's cool because our son (his and Buck's) is with his other dad, so I don't need to be there."

The Kitchens

In 5x3, when Eddie and Ana went into the kitchen, it was a MESS! A big mess to say the least. She had stuff everywhere like she was a brand-new cook or some BS but everyone knows she wasn't since she baked two cakes in 4x13 for Carla's birthday, therefore the STATE OF THE KITCHEN SPOKE VOLUMES about her relationship with Eddie. However, in 6x13, Buck's kitchen was ORGANIZED AND CLEAN. Buck and Eddie's relationship functions like a well-oiled machine. It always has ever since they removed a live grenade from Charlie's leg in 2x1.

In 6x13, Buck specifically said, "So whenever I cook, I like to measure out all my ingredients". But in 5x3, it looked like Ana didn't measure anything. She just baked and left the mess for someone else to clean up.

Buck was working with Chris the same way he did every other time him and Chris were together. Here are some examples, in 3x2-3x3 after the Tsunami, in 3x12 when Eddie and Buck built Chris an adaptable skateboard, in 4x8 when Chris ran away to Buck's loft, in 5x13 when Chris called Buck during Eddie's breakdown and in 5x14 when Buck helped Chris with his homework. The look on Eddie's face in 5x3 before he told Ana "Maybe you should go home first" said it all. He didn't want her there and he never called her "his Ana" like he called Buck "his Buck".

Chris' comment and question

Finally, Chris said "Let's make brownies next" in 5x3 but Ana's reply was "I think we need to clean that kitchen first". She made the mess but she wanted Chris to help her clean it up. But in 6x13, Chris asked, "Can we have cookies for dinner?" and Buck replied, "Well, I thought maybe we'd have some steak and then cookies". He didn't suggest Chris clean up the mess because THERE WASN'T ONE! Reminder Buck's kitchen was already clean even though Ana left Eddie's messy.

The difference between Ana and Buck is BUCK'S ALWAYS BEEN SHOWN TO BE CHRIS' SECOND PARENT! She played the role as the "NICE" girlfriend who was a "God send" but she was NEVER going to be there long since Buck's the person who's been raising Chris with Eddie for years.

Bonus: In 5x2 Buck told Eddie to breakup with Ana and he did in 5x3🙃.

Will Buck and Eddie FINALLY become a CANON couple in season 7 or will the show keep throwing one dimensional women at them instead of just letting them be together? Only the showrunners, writers and producers know the answers to that question.

[lazycats-stuff]

The New Heir - Prologue

Alright, the awaited multichapter, actual plot series! I'm excited, feedback will be greatly appreciated, don't hold back. I don't know how many chapters there will be, so everyone, including me, will be taken for a ride. It's also Batfam & male!reader, so I'm excited! There are also OCs here, so if you don't like them you can stop here. Also, first time making this aesthetic Warnings: child birth, hints towards a backstory, hints towards the potential father,

Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10

20.5.2011.

The state of New Jersey, Gotham City. It was the dead of night and screams ripped the usually quiet halls of the hospital. It all came from the maternity ward, where Natalia Rose Callahan was giving birth. This baby wasn't an easy one and it seemed like it didn't want to leave the Natalia's womb. The baby seemed quite content to stay there forever, seemingly knowing that the world was a cruel place.

Natalia was alone, the only company nurses and doctors, who were making sure that the baby coming out of her was healthy. There wasn't anyone outside of the room for Natalia. Natalia was in a world of pain, but she was used to it. For the last 20 years of her life, pain and healing was all she was doing.

She was the bringer of pain and death and yet, she was giving birth to a new life.

How ironic.

Her head was swimming, not a single coherent thought inside, only get this baby out now and my God help me. She let out another scream and she let her head fall down onto the pillow. Her sweaty hair was stuck to her forehead, evidence of the fight she is going through. She was going to get through this, she did go through this before, but she was put under.

Maybe she should have opted for a C-section too. Or an epidural. But not this.

She heard the doctor tell her, just one more final push. She took a deep breath through her teeth and when she felt a contraction she pushed, nurses holding onto her hand, helping her through this with soothing and encouraging words.

Natalia Rose Callahan closed her eyes as she heard a baby's cry. She heard shuffling and the doctor was telling her about the placenta and the umbilical cord, but she didn't care at this point.

She just wanted to hold her son. She heard him somewhere else in the room, crying and then silence.

Would he turn out like his father? Would he be ruthless as his father? Merciless? Sadistic? Evil?

She barely opened her eyes. It felt like her eyes were taped shut and she was fighting against it. She smiled as she took her son into her hands. She cried as the nurse helped her place her infant son on her bare chest, the baby calming down instantly.

Natalia cried for a long while. Some were happy tears and some were tears of sadness. Her son was finally here, in her arms, thousands miles away from her old life and back in the place where he belongs.

But at the same time she wondered how did she allow him to get her pregnant once more. Did she love him? More than anything. And she knew, that deep down, he loved her too. But was that the life for her son? A life of pain? A life of destruction?

A life full of grooming to take over?

Only purpose to be an heir?

When Natalia stopped crying, she looked down at her son. He opened his dark blue eyes and Natalia knew that she was going to break the cycle. One way or another.

Her son wasn't going to be born into her old life. When she gets out of the hospital, her son will step into the new life. And with his step into a new life, she will shed her old self, like a snake.

She will adapt. She was surviving before, but she won't anymore. She will live. She will do whatever it takes to protect her son. He won't live in fear.

She won't let it happen.

" Do you have a name mom? " The nurse asked as she came in to see how the duo was doing.

" Elias Spencer Callahan. " Natalia said, smiling down at her son.

" Such a beautiful name mom. But I'm afraid that I have to take little Elias. " The nurse said as she wrote the full name down.

Natalia nodded and with a last kiss, she handed her son over. The nurse cooed at Elias, putting him into the special crib, just near her.

" Rest up mom. You will need it. " The nurse said with a smile, leaving the room.

Natalia closed her eyes, ready to fall asleep, but woke up when she heard the door opening.

" Hello Aseel. " Natalia said tiredly, smiling at the old friend.

Aseel chuckled, walking towards the bed, giving her a kiss on the forehead. He gripped her hand for a moment, before letting go. He walked up quietly to his nephew. Although not related, Natalia looked at Aseel as an older brother.

He looked down at the baby. The baby fell asleep. Aseel felt a tear fall down on his face. He wiped the tear away.

" What's his name? " Aseel asked, watching as the baby's face scrunched up a little bit.

" Elias Spencer Callahan. " Natalia said, turning her head to the side.

Aseel nodded, gently caressing the baby's face with his pointer finger. He washed his hands before this. Natalia could smell the scent of soap. Something... Floral?

" I can see that something is bothering you Aseel. What is it? " Natalia pressed, making Aseel sigh.

" He kind of looks like his father. "

" But he has my eyes. " Natalia said softly, making Aseel smile. She did have gorgeous blue eyes.

" I don't doubt it. I took care of everything. You and little Elias are going to be fine. " Aseel said, moving back to Natalia. He took a chair and sat down next to the bed.

" Something else is bothering you. " Natalia said, closing her eyes for a moment.

" I love my unofficial nephew, but... Was it wise to have him? You gave the bastard an heir. A male heir. " Aseel said, jaw clenching at the thought of Elias' father.

" The baby isn't at fault. And he never will. He didn't ask for this. And I will do whatever it takes to make sure that he is safe. " Natalia said, clenching her fists.

" Does that include that you will teach him how to fight? "

" Yes. But it will be more fun. "

Aseel snorted quietly, rubbing his eyes.

" You should sleep Nat. You look almost dead. " Aseel joked, standing up from the chair.

" I will don't worry. "

" I will go to your apartment to get it ready. "

" Thank you Aseel. For protecting us and for helping me. " Natalia said, finally falling asleep.

" Always my sister. Dayiman akhti. " Aseel said, giving her a kiss to the forehead. He walked over quietly to the little baby. Elias was so untouched by the world and its cruelty.

" And I will always protect you. " Aseel whispered softly. Aseel chuckled quietly after a funny thought. The kid is going to have a year round tan. And very good skin complexion.

But there was something else that entered Aseel's mind. The sheer protective feelings and a feeling he thought he would never feel. Paternal love. This baby, this boy was going to be loved so much.

Elias Spencer Callahan was going to be okay. Aseel al-Dawood swore to whatever deity was listening.

Translations: Dayiman akhti - Always my sister

[ghostbunny-mars]

I was thinking about how similar Ogata and his father ended up being, but I realized he takes so much from his mother too. Ogata is the worst of both his father and mother.

The son of a wildcat is a wildcat as well. Tome was a character who wasn't very developed because it wasn't necessary. But you do know she was a geisha, someone who's job revolved around giving a performance others would enjoy. But she ends up giving all of her love to Koujirou, while he abandoned her and his son. She remained loving him though in a constant state of yearning, lying to herself and ignoring anyone else for the sake of living in a delusional world where he lived her. It meant her son was raised in an emotionally empty environment. It meant her son grew up without a reference for love, only her deluded obsession. But Ogata has that same yearning, and the same delusional world they made up to cope with the fact they were unloved and ignoring anyone who said otherwise. They both ended up absolutely lost to the true world. But when Ogata actually received love, it broke the illusion he'd created about the existence of love so he destroyed it. It is a push pull to love, this being one side and the other that refuses love seeming a lot like his father.

Koujirou received unconditional love from Tome, but of course it meant nothing to him. All that seemed to matter to him was his glory. He comes from a long line of military men, a line Ogata also comes from. Ogata would become like the man his mother loved, and the brother everyone loved, and he'd prove they weren't so much better then him. He tried to become leader of the 7th, therefore following in his father's footsteps and ambition. Ambition being very important in this side as it doesn't seem to be able to coexist with love with these two. Koujirou doesn't really seem to care about his legitimate son, but less his mistress and her child. He only cared for his glory, was willing to send his only son to the front lines fresh out of military college because what an honor it is to be a flag bearer. And how good it would look for Koujirou. Yuusaku absolutely ate this up but that's for a different ramble. Even when his wife tried everything in her power to get Yuusaku to not go to war he made sure his son fought. The fields Yuusaku died in were the same fields Koujirou ordered men under his command on attacks with very high mortality for no reason other than glory in a full frontal assault actually working. Ogata shows the same kind of unapologetic ambition, and in hurting people who love them. He shows it with Yuusaku and later Asirpa in more personal ways. Using people to get what he wants only to abandon and hurt them is a behavior that his father also showed, specifically with Tome. This all leads to similar ends though.

I see people bring up how he died poisoned, cut up, and finally a bullet from his rifle to the head, and how each represents a different family member and how he killed them. But I'm specifically thinking about how both him and his father committed suicide. I mean Koujirou actually didn't but everyone though he did. People thought the guilt of the deaths he had ordered, including his son, was to much for him and he committed. Of course it was actually staged, and Ogata killed him. But that was what made the most sense, why wouldn't a father feel guilty for that? Koujirou didn't feel guilty for his son's death, at least not enough to actually show it or krill himself. Ogata actually did suicide, and he did it because he actually did feel guilty, specifically for Yuusaku. The cover he used for his father's death was what actually made him take himself out. Ogata was different in that he did feel guilty, Koujirou did not.

At the end of the day they both his parents and himself died alone. Ogata took down his entire family and their memories down with him. It was all useless and that makes me wanna blow up.

[nebulablakemurphy]

The Queen’s Hand

(Part VII: Birthright)

Summary: Y/N Targaryen is Princess of the seven realms. First born daughter of, Viserys I and Aemma Targaryen. Heir to the iron throne, forced to make impossible decisions to ensure peace amongst the land and the safety of those she holds most dear.

Warning: this chapter includes the birth of Rhaenyra’s daughter who unfortunately does not survive.

Prologue | I | II | III | IV | V | VI

“This is treason and you know it.” Aemmia snaps, her cheeks flush from tears. Her eyes burning with the fire of the dragon.

“I understand that you are upset.” Aemond attempts to gentle his wife, “but you must compose yourself. This is not good for the babe.”

“It is too soon to know if I’m with child!”

“Helaena told me so.”

Aemmia sighs, looking away. Some consider Helaena mad, but Aemmia knows better. Viserys knew things he could not, same as her mother.

“Rhaenyra is the rightful heir. I intend to uphold her claim.” She says, with fierce determination.

“Aemmia, please.” Aemond catches her face in his hand. “I will no longer argue the legitimacy of Rhaenyra’s claim. But the fact remains, my mother and grandsire have set this chain of succession in motion. I cannot stop it. I cannot make Rhaenyra Queen anymore than I can raise my father from the dead. If we do not accept the crown it will pass to Aegon.”

“Aegon cannot be found.” Aemmia steps away from his hold.

“They’ve not been looking very hard.”

“Why not?”

“Because they do not wish to find him.” Aemond confesses. “This is best for everyone. You and I on the throne, the coronation will be peaceful.”

“Aemond, I will not betray my family. If we send for Rhaenyra-”

“If Rhaenyra becomes queen, she will kill my family.”

“Why do you believe this?” Aemmia wonders, have Otto’s lies poisoned him so? “My aunt is not vindictive or cruel. Now she may forbade you from speaking ill against her children, but she would not harm you.”

“Her children have done it before,” Aemond reminds her, “and even you spoke against me.”

“You called them bastards.”

“Are they not?” He challenges.

“They are Targaryens,” Aemmia corrects him, “same as you and I.”

“Hmm.”

“It was you who attacked them.”

“Attacked them? Four against one.” Aemond huffs. “Yet none of them maimed.”

“You tried to kill Jace.”

“I was trying to defend myself.”

“As Lucerys was defending his brother.” She dares him to argue.

“Say what you will, dear wife. But if it were me who harmed one of her children this way, my father would have removed my eye himself and presented it to Rhaenyra on a platter.”

Aemmia reels back at this, “I cannot say if that is true. You knew a much different man than I.”

“Because he loved you.” Aemond says simply. “A privilege I was not afforded.”

“I-”

“When all is said and done it matters not. With us on the throne, we can ensure the safety of your family and mine. You will have the power to unfuck this as you see fit. I cannot give all you ask of me, but I can make you Queen.” Aemond pauses, “Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men.”

“Why would you do that for me?” Her brow furrows.

“I despised you for years. Feeding into jealousy, unable to understand my father’s devotion to your mother and Rhaenyra’s children over me, his own son. But as I’ve come to know you, I see it a bit differently. We are not so different, two sides of the same coin. I…feel for you.”

“And I for you,” Aemmia breathes.

“I do not know if it is love, but I have never felt it for anyone else. I do not wish your family dead, I do not wish you to suffer. Allow me to do this for you.”

-———————————🌱———————————

“Y/N!”

The sound of her sister’s distressed cry sends the Princess scurrying to Rhaenyra’s rooms.

“Rhaenyra,” Y/N murmurs. She is in a state of undress, suited only for the birthing bed. Bent forward at the waist, gripping the door frame which overlooks the balcony. It is far too soon for her labors. “You must sit.”

“We are past that now.” Rhaenyra tells her. “This is happening.”

Y/N looks to the maester. “Is there nothing we can do?”

“I am afraid not, Princess.”

Rhaenyra reaches for her, “I need you.” Her voice is choked with pain.

Y/N crosses the room. Taking her sister’s hand and fussing about her endlessly. “I’m so sorry, Rhaenyra. I failed you.”

“Often times I felt the world has failed me, but never you, sister. Never have you failed me.” Rhaenyra gasps, clutching her belly.

“Let me help.” Y/N says, moving to knead the small of Rhaenyra’s back.

Rhaenyra shakes her head. “Daemon wishes to move immediately for the throne. He’s gone to madness.”

It’s been all of half an hour since the news arrived by raven. Alicent and Otto plan to use their absence to usurp Rhaenyra, forcing her own niece to take the crown.

“I know Aemmia and I love her like my own. She would not supplant me of her own free will. Whatever game Alicent is playing, I do not wish her to be caught in the cross fire. If Daemon moves it will be a blood bath, you know it as well as I.” Rhaenyra forces the words out between contractions.

“Rhaenyra, what would you have me do?” There’s blood, too much blood.

“You are the one meant to advise me.” Rhaenyra attempts a jest. “I have sent Jacaerys, whatever claim remains to me it is now his. I don’t not want any decision made while I’m abed.”

“I will send Harwin to back him,” Y/N suggests, “be sure Daemon is respectful of your wishes.”

“Harwin is an asset, but he holds little authority in court. Daemon trusts you, he may listen if you speak.”

“I do not wish to leave you this way.” Y/N confesses.

Rhaenyra reaches back, catching her sister’s hand. “It’s as mother always said, this is our battle field. We must learn to face it with a stiff upper lip. I will be alright until you return.”

Y/N nods, perhaps it is silly to worry. Rhaenyra has five children, but this is different. Still the Princess raises her chin, facing the council room with grace.

Harwin looks…perturbed to say the least. Daemon must be eating Jace alive.

“Might I ask exactly what is still up for discussion when your Queen has willed you wait for her? I assume my nephew, Jacaerys, was very clear.”

The room is silent for a long moment.

“Princess,” Lord Corlys, barely recovered from his injury in battle for the Step Stones, nods down to her hands.

Y/N follows his gaze, her mind spiraling with a grief so intense she has not yet felt it. She swallows, composing herself. Wiping her hands down the front of her dress to clean them; staining the material in her sister’s blood. “We are not to make any decisions in the absence of Rhaenyra.”

“We must make preparations, Y/N. War does not stop for a laboring Queen, I’m afraid. You will be most useful at my wife’s side.” Daemon tries to reason. However harsh his words, he does love Rhaenyra and wants her cared for in his absence.

“Daemon!” Rhaenyra cries. The awful sound of it echoing off the walls.

“Clearly you are the one she wants.” Y/N insists. “I will take over as head of this proceeding.”

“You would stand against your own daughter?”

“Wouldn’t it be best to first rally our allies?” Y/N ignores his question. “Assuming we know who still stands with us.”

Daemon looks down at Y/N’s hands again. “What of Aemmia?”

“Whatever my daughter hath done is in the name of this family, and our rightful queen, Rhaenyra Targaryen. Aemmia is strong. She would not be so easily won over by the Hightowers. She would however be smart enough to play their game,” Y/N looks him dead in the eye, “and win.”

Daemon’s jaw ticks, “come Jacaerys, I will teach you the true meaning of loyalty.”

———————————-🌱———————————-

“Let the seven bear witness! It was King Viserys’ dying wish, that his first born child, Y/N Targaryen’s daughter, Aemmia Targaryen-”

Aemond feels his wife’s fingers tighten around his, as if the name startled her. Aemmia Strong is no more, he squeezes back. You’re alright.

“And his true born son, Aemond Targaryen, should succeed him. It is your great fortune and honor to witness this today. A new King and Queen to guide our city.”

Aemmia is grateful when she is asked to kneel to the High Septon, for fear she may faint. Her knees hit the top stair harder than strictly necessary. She can’t go through with this.

‘But, there is new hope. With Aemmia and Aemond’s union, our houses might stand together once more.’

Her grandsire’s words ring in her ears. This will not unite them. It will break any bonds that hold them. I cannot do it.

“May the warrior give them courage.”

I miss you, grandsire.

“May the smith lend strength to their sword and shield.”

I’m sorry, Rhaenyra.

“May the father defend them in their need.”

I need you, father.

“May the crone lift her shining lamp and guide their way to wisdom.”

Forgive me, mother.

With that the High Septon is finished.

“Crown of Viserys, the peaceful. Passed down to the next generation.”

Aemmia’s head is light, the metal of her grandsire’s crown too cool against her skin. Even it knows, it does not belong.

‘Tonight I want you to see me as I am.’

If only he were here. Her grandsire did not wish this. He would never let it happen.

“The crown of the conqueror, passed down through generations.” Criston Cole crowns Aemond next. A clear sense of accomplishment about him.

As if this has not been cruel enough, they are now expected to stand. Aemmia hopes no one will notice the wobble in her stance. Turning out to face the masses.

Aemond presses a kiss to her temple. Tis done. Drawing his sword, he kneels, presenting the blade for her to wield. He looks up at her, “my Queen.”

Aemmia takes the hilt carefully. Lifting it from his outstretched hand to the sky.

“All hail, her grace.” The Septon announces, though confused by the lack of ceremony. “Aemmia Targaryen, first of her name. Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men. Lady of the seven kingdoms, and protector of the realm. Aemmia the Queen!”

The applause starts slow, but is ever building. Aemond stands beside her proudly now, she has done her part. Her hand gone limp in his, eyes glossed over, she has checked out. Though no one but he is the wiser.

Only the explosion from the entrance and rubble flying in all directions pulls her from it. There is a dragon, she can make out the shape of someone on it’s saddle, but she cannot say who.

As the dust settles, Aemmia spots Rhaenys; Rhaenys sees her. Their eyes locked as Meleys rears back. Aemmia’s fingers curl around Aemond’s outstretched forearm. Though his body would do little to shield her, it is the only protection he has to offer.

The roar that sounds will live forever in her mind, no fire joins it. This is not and execution, it’s a warning.

———————————-🌱———————————-

“Ahhh!” Rhaenyra’s head falls forward in defeat.

“Good,” Y/N says, “very good. You’re nearly there.”

“Princess,” one of Rhaenyra’s maids calls, “you should not do this alone. Let us help you.”

Rhaenyra says nothing, bearing down against the pressure in her abdomen.

“Once more,” Y/N encourages, prepared to catch the babe.

Syrax cries out in distress as Rhaenyra brings her sixth child into the world.

The infant, a girl, perfect and beautiful. Completely still. She is small, but appears healthy though she does not cry. Y/N turns the baby over, rubbing at her back. “Come on, little one.”

Rhaenyra looks to her sister.

“We must have the maester!”

“Yes, Princess.”

“Y/N,” Rhaenyra shakes her head. “Give her here.”

“She will be alright.”

Rhaenyra leans her forehead to her sister’s. “Thank you for staying with me.”

Y/N slides the baby into Rhaenyra’s arms.

“I should like to be alone now.”

“I cannot leave you.” Not like this, she shouldn’t be alone.

“Even you cannot shield me from this. I have lost a child, I must grieve.”

It isn’t fair. Y/N forces herself to her feet. Covered in blood and the aftermath of a newborn babe. Holding her composure out the door, down the hall. But the tears come, hot and unbidden. Scorching her cheeks.

She tears at the strings of her gown as she walks, letting it pool at her feet then stepping over it. Shedding it the way a snake might shed it’s skin. She is different now, forever changed.

“My darling.” Harwin greets her just beyond the door of their guest chambers.

“I-” Y/N puts a hand up between them. “I cannot be comforted.”

Harwin holds his stance, not moving toward her. “You must have a bath.”

Y/N shakes her head. “There is a war to be fought.”

“In your dressing gown?”

“I do not have armor.”

“We will get you some, when the time comes.”

“Do not coddle me.”

“I apologize, that was not my intent. I only want to be sure you’ve thought this out.”

“Thought it out?” Y/N forms her mouth slowly around each word. “The Hightowers have held our daughter against her will and forced her to commit high treason. The repercussions of which sent Rhaenyra into such a state of distress that she has lost her child.”

“Viserys would have wanted-”

“My father is not here! He’s gone. Dead.” The word burns it’s way from her throat. “He left me and he’s never coming back.”

“Y/N,” Harwin runs a hand over his face.

“If my father were alive, he would open the floodgates and rain hellfire upon them.”

“Look at me.” Harwin crosses the room, taking her face in hand.

“She’s all I have left of my mother.” Y/N shoves him away. “All I have left of him. I cannot lose Rhaenyra. I will protect her at any cost and no one will take her from me!”

“My love, you are not yourself.”

“No, you’re wrong.” Y/N insists. “This is who I am, Harwin. This is who I’ve always been.”

“I have known you some thirty eight years, married to you for over twenty of them. I know who you are, Y/N Targaryen. I know you and I love you. Therefore I will be the first to tell you when you are making a mistake.”

“That is the problem, Harwin.” Her chest heaves with the weight of it. “I’ve changed, I am different.”

“Push me away and reel me in as you wish, but I will not abandon you. When you die it will be with my slain body at your feet, my sword and shield in your hand. If this is the war we are fighting I will stand at your side. I am not your enemy. I’m only asking to weigh our options.”

Her defenses dissipate. “Your patience and understanding touches me deeply. I do apologize for taking my frustrations out on you, it will not happen again.”

Harwin softens at this, “you need not apologize for being human.”

“I do not see a way back from this.” Y/N admits. “They have gone too far.” She puts a hand to her aching heart.

———————————-🌱———————————-

It has been three days. Three days since the coronation. Aemmia has just changed into her nightgown when she hears rustling from the adjoining room of her apartment.

Aemond.

“Come to celebrate?” Aemmia shakes her head. “I am exhausted from the day’s affairs. I wish to sleep.”

Silence.

“Aemond?” Aemmia turns to farther investigate. There is someone there, a man. His hood draw up, covering the top portion of his face. “Show yourself.”

The cloak is pulled back, Aemmia squints into the dimly lit corner. He reminds her of someone…someone she used to know. But it couldn’t possibly be, “Laenor?” Now she is seeing ghosts.

The man takes a step toward her. “Ser Lynis will do.”

“It was you? All these years, the one my mother was writing from the Step Stones.”

He nods.

“Does she know you’re here?”

“Your mother wanted to come herself, badly.” Laenor explains, “but I had a better chance of getting through the passage ways into the castle than she did.”

“Are you…staying?” Say yes. “Or perhaps I could come with you?” Please.

“Not just yet. But we do not want you to think yourself forgotten. Your family will not abandon you here, Aemmia.”

“In all these years I have not forgotten you. It is so good to see you again, Uncle.”

Laenor opens his arms to her, “come.”

Aemmia runs, all but jumping into the familiar hold of the man who would put her up on his shoulders as a child. “Will you tell her- tell my mother I did not want this.”

“She knows.” Laenor assures her.

“And the crown,” Aemmia makes a run for it, “my grandsire would want Rhaenyra to have it. Our true Queen.”

Laenor wraps his hand around it, tucking it safely into his satchel. “Well done, sweetheart. You’ve made us all proud.”

“Will I see you again?” Aemmia asks.

“When the time is right.”

Part VIII

Taglist @evyiione @giulia2372 @bubblebuttwade @hotd-fanfic @leoramage @hyperfiaxed-freak @chonisbestmistake @poemfreak306

[vickyvicarious]

I love Arthur so much. It was so good to hear his voice at greater length... and today he is doing the two things he does so very well: see through the mask and provide resources.

Art doesn't get a ton of time on the page. And even when he's there, he isn't usually the focus of the scene. So I think a lot of people tend to underestimate just how important his actions are.

Because... look, everyone knows that Mina is the one who 'writes Dracula', so to speak. She collates the information, she's the first to share the information, she makes unique connections with every single member of the team and takes on a lot of the emotional labor for them. She's great at noticing important things and at connecting with people.

But Mina isn't the only one. Arthur and Mina actually share a fair bit in common I think, and Mina would never have been able to do her thing if he didn't act first now.

Like... yes, of course Lucy is a uniting force in this part of the novel. She's the one everyone wants to save, and her relationships with others are pretty central to bringing them all together. And after they fail, Mina is the one who takes up that role in a lot of ways. But Arthur's relationships are pretty central too. It seems apparent from the way they're first introduced that Art is the reason Lucy met the other suitors in the first place, and he seems to be the one who is closest to both the others/has known them longest. Quincey and Arthur especially spend a ton of time together and seem super close. Van Helsing starts to think of him as a son. He and Mina agree to be like siblings for the rest of their lives, and while he has the least direct connection with Jonathan, he still goes on a journey alone with him at the end and makes sure to look after his health. Everyone loves everyone else, and they all have multiple close relationships, but I think Arthur is probably the one who gets the most emphasis on each different one after Mina. (Even as he is more of a side character.) And while he goes through a ton of loss and isn't able to be a support for everyone for a good while, he always seems to want to try, and he does when he can. I think when he isn't completely lost in grief that's his default state. And he seems pretty good at it. Not just the noticing but also getting people to accept his help. He convinces Lucy to meet with Jack despite the awkwardness. He convinces Jonathan to go to sleep despite his intense drive to keep going without pause. That sort of thing.

Most importantly here is how Arthur sees through Lucy's pretence. (And others too, like when Jack and van Helsing try to pretend she isn't as bad as she is, and he figures it out multiple times. Also, it's not exactly the same thing, but he and Jonathan are the only two people to notice Dracula at Carfax, however briefly.) I've talked about this before, but in the proposal scenes he was the only suitor that was meeting Lucy on even terms. They were both emotionally honest, his proposal was unplanned, and both he and Lucy could read one another well. Through various hints it seems to me that Arthur is usually pretty open with Lucy about everything including his worries, while she talks to him about all sorts of things except her own worries. However, even when she isn't honest with him, Arthur is able to see through Lucy's pretense. For someone who always tries to act happy/well and care for other people first, who hides how poorly she is doing and can't easily ask for help, that's huge. It makes them very well suited. And honestly, he expresses himself a lot in this book in a way entirely devoid of ego. He cries, he admits when he doesn't know what to do, he asks for help, he's willing to follow orders, he forgives what seem like slights against him...

And that's part of what makes his ability to provide resources so useful. Because sure, he throws money at problems. And that's super helpful later on. But he doesn't just do that. He also tries to anticipate specific needs when he knows he has the ability (planning to get his horses, bringing his dogs since he'd heard that Dracula could command rats amongst other things), and offers up his resources for others who know better what to do to use (letting Jonathan use his name to deal with the other lawyers, and giving his blood to Lucy is a big one). And that extends to people too. Arthur knows he can't save Lucy here, so he reaches out to Jack. He uses his relationships to do three things here: convince Jack to come, convince Lucy to be open with him, and trick/distract Mrs. Westenra so she won't be alarmed. Later on, he reaches out to Quincey as well. He never hesitates to ask for help when he thinks it's necessary and not only is he always correct to ask but he gets the answer he wants.

Even though he's far from the most visible character, I think he's pretty important. And I'm deeply fond of him.

[water9826]

Cursed Guardians (A JJK Fic)

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Yuuji was an odd child. 

Of course, Ryomen loved his son more than anything else in the world, there was nothing his son could do that would make Ryomen change his stance on that. Even so, he knew that his baby boy was not normal by human standards. Of course, any child who was reborn from mere ashes after one thousand years could not be entirely human. Ryomen was not human either, but he had thought he would know what to expect with his son. Afterall, he had raised Yuuji until his boy died from illness at the tender age of four. In a way, Yuuji was still the same as he was back then. He was still the bubbly, bright child Ryomen adored. 

But there were changes. Very concerning changes. 

Any baby would develop separation anxiety for their parents, but Yuuji completely shut down when he was alone. He became so terrified that he would be inconsolable for hours. One of his guardians had to be with him at all times in addition to Ryomen or Sukuna. If he was without either, Yuuji would wail until his voice broke. Babies cried and toddlers threw tantrums. That was to be expected, but Yuuji cried for very different reasons. He would only cry when left alone or, which hurt Ryomen’s very soul to admit, when he had violent nightmares. A baby was supposed to cry when they were hungry, needed a change, or scared. The fact that Yuuji only did one of the three meant that Ryomen had to spend many sleepless nights watching the boy to determine when he was hungry or soiled his diaper. Throughout his infancy, Supernova had become Ryomen’s saving grace. The cat was almost always near Yuuji, either curled around him or watching from a distance. Somehow, Supernova was in tune with Yuuji's needs the most and acted as an alert of sorts for Ryomen. He often woke up Ryomen from a fitful sleep to let him know if Yuuji needed something. The cat had learned to become quite good at charades. 

Now, at two-years-old, Ryomen did not have to stay awake for days on end to check on his baby. The boy still had nightmares, but they had become more manageable. There were four different types of nightmares that Yuuji would have. One, the easiest, he would wake up sobbing and would fall back asleep once he, Sukuna, or a guardian held him. Those were normally handled by the guardians, especially Supernova, as they were always ready to comfort the boy.  Two, he would be so scared that he would not settle down or go back to sleep unless Ryomen, Sukuna, and all the guardians were in the room. This would cause Ryomen to purchase the largest blankets and pillows he could find, so they could create a giant pillow fort on the couch for everyone to fit. Three, he would only be willing to be near one specific person or guardian depending on the nightmare, which even included him hugging a very non-huggable Resonance as tightly as he could and refusing to let her go for the rest of the night. It had taken the longest to figure out those nightmares. Four, the rarest, he would wake up in a panicked state and would not allow anyone to come near him, including his guardians. Yuuji would flinch at all touch and attempts to speak to him. The only thing that Ryomen and the others could do was keep him company until Yuuji came to his senses himself. 

No two-year-old should have so many nightmares. 

Ryomen had tried to ask Sukuna about it, but the curse would change the subject immediately. They had been sharing a body for centuries, so Ryomen knew everything about Sukuna. Seeing Sukuna’s obvious attempts at deflecting made alarm bells ring in Ryomen’s mind. He had always known that Sukuna hid things from him, and he had made peace with it long ago. The haunted looks Sukuna would get at the oddest times or the times where he would sense an incredible guilt within the ancient being…It was as worrisome as it was suspicious. However, it did not matter how many times Ryomen would press, Sukuna wouldn’t open up. 

This was different. He was hiding something about Yuuji. 

“Papa!”

“Yes, hon?” With practiced ease, Ryomen shoved down his thoughts about Sukuna. It wasn’t worth the energy to speculate on something he would never get the answers to. The tiny hands around his leg would always be more important. Yuuji was clinging onto his leg with his smiling face tugging at Ryomen’s heartstrings. “Are you hungry?”

A soft meow answered his question. Yuuji looked sheepish as he buried his face in his father’s leg with an impossibly small nod. Wrapped around his tiny shoulders was an equally tiny Supernova, who was purring into the boy's fluffy, pink hair. Any questions directed towards Yuuji’s wellbeing were always met with the boy going quiet. Another odd thing. Ryomen remembered how his son would never hesitate to tell him if he was hungry, thirsty, or tired. Yuuji back then was never afraid to express himself. The little boy Ryomen had now clammed up at those questions. Yuuji would even look unreasonably guilty whenever Ryomen guessed what he wanted or his guardians pointed it out. As if he was guilty for having basic needs. 

No two-year-old should bear so much guilt. 

Supernova jumped onto the kitchen counter and pawed at the eggs Ryomen was currently frying, not flinching at all at the heat of the pan. The cat quickly went back to Yuuji and grew in size. He plucked the toddler by the scruff of his onesie, detaching the boy from Ryomen’s legs to allow the man the right to move again. Ryomen knelt down and ruffled Yuuji’s head. 

“You good with eggs and bacon for breakfast, Yuuji? I’m sure your Uncle Kuna would love some bacon.” At the mere mention of the curse, the toddler lit up like the sun. He could not figure out why Yuuji was so attached to Sukuna, but he had an inkling that it was due to the many naps Sukuna and Yuuji shared throughout the day. Sukuna had slowed down over the years, becoming almost docile. The cause of this change was the worsening of the chronic fatigue Sukuna seemed to experience day in and day out. Ryomen, for once, had been worried about the curse. However, his concerns were put to rest as he noticed Sukuna becoming much more active and perk up after adopting Yuuji’s napping schedule. Now, Yuuji would take all his naps on his living mattress Sukuna, and the curse would quickly fall asleep with him. It was surprisingly endearing. 

“What is this I hear about having fried pork belly?” Four pairs of arms snatched Yuuji up, much to Supernova’s displeasure. Sukuna used his bottom pair of arms to hold the boy with his other hands gesturing towards the pan, ignoring the cat biting his leg. “You might want to make more, Ryomen.” 

“And why is that, Sukuna?” Ryomen turned off the stove and slid the cooked egg onto a plate, cutting it up into small pieces. His gaze turned sharp and calculating. He knew exactly what Sukuna was talking about, and had to hold in the anger brewing in his chest. “Is it possible that you invited guests at this hour, even after I specifically told you not to?”

With a cuddly toddler in his arms and a fluffy cat trying to rip a chunk off his leg, Sukuna did not look particularly threatening. His eyes, on the other hand, were just as deadly as ever. He was as upset about this ‘meeting’ as Ryomen was. For the sake of the little boy in his arms, Sukuna kept his tone level. “I sent the message yesterday morning and gave them a fortnight to come. It’s unlikely they will come today, but it is still a possibility.”

“Who coming?” Yuuji patted his chubby hand against Sukuna’s cheek. “Uncle Kuna! Who coming?!” His excited pats soon turned into mild slapping. Despite the harsher hits, Sukuna did not seem to be in any pain. Instead, the curse turned his head so Yuuji’s hand was against his mouth, blowing a raspberry against the chubby appendage. Yuuji squealed and giggled before placing his hand on the wood fused into Sukuna’s face, quickly becoming fascinated by the slab and forgetting the question he had asked. 

“Fine then…How many?” Ryomen turned his back on Sukuna, going to the fridge and getting out a carton of eggs and a packet of bacon. 

“Two were requested, but I allowed them to bring two more if desired. I named who they can bring, so anyone besides the names I listed will be kil- taken care of. ” Sukuna chose his words very carefully, knowing Yuuji was at the stage of mimicking anything he heard like a parrot. “Expect two, but be prepared for four.”

Ryomen was silent for a moment. It was just like Sukuna to act on his own accord without consulting Ryomen. When Ryomen had gotten the anonymous message on the night he found Yuuji, Sukuna had spoken that he knew who the sender was. A curse user named Kenjaku, someone who had a habit of meddling with the lives of others, especially Sukuna’s. With Yuuji still being an infant, the discussions of Kenjaku were held off for the most part. It was only until last week that Sukuna said that they needed to form an alliance with the sorcerers. Specifically, two of them. Getou Suguru and Gojo Satoru. It was the most information Sukuna ever gave Ryomen, but it still had many details missing. Like the date and time of this very important meeting. 

Sukuna told him he would reveal everything at this summons. He said it was because he didn’t want to repeat himself twice, but all that Ryomen cared about were answers. If Kenjaku posed a serious threat against his baby boy, then Ryomen would be willing to do anything to ensure his safety. His own hopes of Sukuna finally revealing the many secrets he had been keeping from Ryomen were put aside. Sukuna would only speak about what was relevant in keeping Yuuji safe, which was enough for Ryomen. His son would always come first.

Doesn’t mean I’m happy with that bastard for putting this on me so suddenly.  With a deep sigh, Ryomen nodded. He took out the leftover onigiri he had made with Yuuji yesterday evening. Luckily, there were plenty left, and Ryomen did not need to heat up anything. Placing the container to the side and closing the fridge, the man locked eyes with the curse and spoke in a sickly-sweet voice. “Sukuna-chan? Would you mind helping me prepare breakfast? I’ll need an extra set of hands!”

Immediately, Sukuna felt dread pool in his gut. The honorific was not a sign of endearment. Not even close. It was actually a warning for the assault that was to come. A very fiery assault. With great care, Sukuna set Yuuji down. At the same time, Supernova detached from his leg and corralled Yuuji away from the older two, sending a hiss Sukuna’s way. “We will call you for breakfast! Don’t be late, brat!”

“Okay!”

Once they saw Yuuji go outside, an excited Boogie and Infinite immediately going to greet the boy with slobbery kisses and loud squawks, Sukuna and Ryomen locked eyes. The ancient curse raised a brow. “Would you like me to start running?”

“Very much so.”

-

“Stop running, Gojo-san!” 

“Make me, four-eyes!”

“QUIT CALLING ME THAT, YOU INSUFFERABLE-”

The banter of Nanami and Satoru grew more distant as the blonde chased the other down, the taller giggling like a maniac. Suguru smiled at their antics, glad to see the chaotic dynamic between the two remain unchanged. After graduating, Nanami had immediately left jujutsu society. The man had every right to quit as the higher-ups had only grown more corrupted, which should have been impossible. All the elders were now demanding that the enrollment age into the schools in Tokyo or Kyoto be lowered drastically. They wanted to start training as early as six years old, claiming that they needed to make sure the new generations of sorcerers were more than ‘cannon fodder’. At the meeting where the elders announced this, Nanami walked out the second the words left the elder’s mouth. He ignored the commands to return or the harsh reprimands for being so disrespectful. Nanami was a person who followed the rules, but he knew when said rules were unfair or unjust. Hearing the higher-ups, useless old men who do nothing but sit on their thrones while jujutsu sorcerers die every day, comparing the lives of the fallen to expendable tools made to be thrown away was too much for someone as disciplined as Nanami to handle. The day after the disastrous meeting, Nanami quit. He still kept in contact with Suguru, Satoru, and any who Nanami legitimately respected. It made Suguru happy to see a kind soul like Nanami get away and become a normal member of society.

Suguru would have joined him if it wasn’t for the creatures that forced him to stay. The six creatures that still haunted Suguru’s nightmares. Cursed souls had been given their own category, above special grade. With Yaga’s help, the elders agreed to release a small amount of information about cursed souls to all jujutsu sorcerers. They had wanted to keep the matter hidden, but Yaga managed to convince them otherwise. Two years had passed since that fateful night in Sendai, and there had been no reports of cursed souls or Sukuna. The latter had been kept a secret, the higher-ups could not be persuaded. It infuriated Suguru to see the elders keep such crucial information from their comrades. Sukuna’s mere existence was a sign that trouble was afoot. War even. 

Then the curse sent him and Satoru a letter, asking to meet.

While the ancient curse gave them a fortnight to arrive, Suguru and Satoru were ready to leave the next day. After reassuring the kids that everything was alright, they told them that they had a mission out of town and would not be back until tomorrow. Ijichi, bless his soul, had agreed to babysit their horde of gremlins for the entire day. The eighteen-year-old was fortunately treated quite well by the kids, mainly due to the fact that Ijichi was a decent cook and excellent baker. Suguru and Satoru had tried so many different babysitters, and each had resigned within a day. Ijichi was the only one that managed to get on the kids' good sides. However, being seen as a friend and not foe did not mean the kids didn’t terrorize poor Ijichi. They absolutely did. It was just that their antics were not flat out murder attempts like the other babysitters. Suguru remembered this one instance where he and Satoru came back from a mission only to find Ijichi covered in feathers, glitter, and rope. He also looked like he had been electrocuted with his frizzy hair. Needless to say, Ijichi got quite the raise after that. 

Suguru hoped the kids behaved themselves as he knew that he would not be equipped to handle four children after this meeting. 

He couldn’t help but think of the baby in the bundle, and the boy at the peach tree. Suguru had never forgotten the infant, who would now be around two if he survived. 

“You seem to be thinking really hard, man. I think I see steam blowing out of your ears.” Shoko pushed him good naturedly, a lollipop sticking out of her mouth. Her hair had grown longer, and she was trying to stop smoking. She looked healthier overall, but the bags underneath her eyes still refused to fade. “Want to share with the class?”

A snort escaped Suguru’s lips. “We graduated highschool, remember? There’s no class to share my thoughts with.”

“Quit being a smartass.” 

“So you admit I’m smart?”

Shoko smacked him beside the head as he cackled. It had been a grueling process, and he still had his bad days or relapses, but Suguru had finally gotten rid of the perfect sorcerer his elders had tried to sculpt him into. He was slowly coming into his own, acting on his own thoughts and his thoughts alone. Some say that Satoru was at fault for ‘corrupting’ a star pupil like Suguru, but that wasn’t the case. Being mischievous and rebellious had always been in Suguru’s nature, he simply repressed those urges for all his life. Satoru had been the one to show Suguru how much fun it was to cause mayhem. He helped Suguru in every way he could. For instance, when Satoru told him he booked an appointment with the tattoo and piercing parlor Suguru had been talking about for years, Suguru wanted to propose on the spot.  He had been following the parlor online ever since he got a laptop and phone, talking about it or showing his friends photos of the work they did. And Satoru remembered . Ever since, Suguru had gotten several new piercings and tattoos. Booking appointments was nearly impossible, but Satoru managed it everytime. Satoru always gave Suguru everything and more. The others had it wrong, Satoru made Suguru better . 

He sighed. “I was thinking of people. Three people specifically.”

The girl next to him raised a brow. “Is one of them Satoru?”

“Perhaps.”

“You two are disgusting.” Shoko said, already at her limit with the lovebirds that were Suguru and Satoru. It was far too early to deal with their terrible flirting and PDA. She wanted to be in bed, not in the middle of a random forest. “I’ll probably regret asking this, but who are the other two?”

“Sukuna and a baby.” He replied smoothly, putting his hands in his pockets. “He mentioned in his letter that Satoru and I shared a mutual interest in protecting what was ours. We have the girls and Megumi to protect, but I have never heard of Sukuna having a child.” 

“Huh…Maybe he is protecting something else? Like a weapon or pet or some shit?” 

He shook his head. “No, I don’t think that’s it. For someone as prideful as the King of Death, surely it would take quite a lot for him to reach out to us. He must care about this person enough to put down his pride and ask for an alliance with sorcerers.”

“Are you talking about Sukuna?! I want in!” Emerging from a bush, Satoru ran towards the pair. He placed his head on Suguru’s shoulder, vibrating like an excited puppy. Suguru patted the other’s head, sensing how erratic Satoru’s cursed energy had become.  Whenever the white-haired man became too emotional or riled up, he would grow manic if Suguru wasn’t there to center him. With the physical contact, Satoru’s aura calmed almost instantly. 

Several branches snapped, alerting the sorcerers of a new presence. Fortunately, it was a disgruntled Nanami, with several leaves and twigs in his hair. “Please tell me that we are near the meeting site.”

It was a question all of them were wondering. The directions Sukuna gave were incredibly vague, only mentioning a ‘shrine of malevolence’ deep in a forest in Tokyo. However, Tokyo had countless forests and shrines. However, luck had been on their side for once. Satoru, somehow, knew of the shrine and warped the group to its entrance. Apparently, Satoru had a tendency to run away as a child, so he would find himself in the oddest of places. The shrine was one of them. He told them that he could not teleport them any further due to a barrier of unknown diameter. The solution that Satoru had come up with was walking through the forest until they sensed the barrier or Sukuna sensed their presence. 

A chuckle escaped Satoru’s lips. He tapped on the thick, black blindfold covering his eyes, a replacement for his usually tinted sunglasses. “My six-eyes would have been able to find the barrier easily, but Sukuna is apparently sneakier than he looks. There is very little that can hide from my eyes, so whatever Sukuna is using to conceal himself is quite powerful.”

Both Nanami and Suguru repressed a shiver. The cursed soul who had the Gojo clan’s sacred technique had made an impact on everyone. No one could forget the shrieks of laughter and feelings of absolute powerlessness. It went unsaid, but the group knew that the draconic cursed soul was the one responsible for such advanced cloaking. They would have to deal with the demon again . 

“So you don’t know how much longer this would take?” Shoko drawled. 

“Not at all!” Satoru chirped.

“Remind me why I’m here again? Because I am very tempted to go back to my bed instead of trudge through twigs and mud.” 

Suguru bit the piercing on his lip, a new habit of his. Careful to keep his voice low, the man spoke of the thought that had been nagging him this entire trip. “The baby that had been taken by Sukuna and the cursed souls would be two-years-old now. I find it hard to believe that that child would be dead considering how protective the cursed souls were. Children are the most precious treasure one could have, but they’re also extremely vulnerable. Sukuna said he wanted to protect what was his, like me and Satoru. The baby in Sendai must be his or perhaps related to him. Either way, I highly doubt that Sukuna has a regular doctor for the child.” 

There was a lull of silence amongst the group. Once Suguru, Nanami, and Satoru fully recovered, Suguru had told them of the scrolls he found in the catacombs. He showed them the story of the man who made a vow with Sukuna and the boy who was at the center of everything. The boy by the peach tree. When Suguru spoke of the boy, Nanami and Satoru shared a knowing gaze with him. They all were told something about Itadori Yuuji, but none could speak about it aloud. If they tried to, they would immediately forget what they were talking about. The information was not meant to be shared. 

Beside him, Shoko shook her head with a grin. “Guess I’ll be a pediatrician to five children instead of four.” 

“Don’t you mean four goblins?” Satoru smirked. 

“Eh, they are little shits to you , not me. That makes them angels in my book.”

For the next several minutes, the group would speak of lighter topics, trying to ignore the heaviness in the air. The further they traveled, the tenser they got. Cursed energy rippled through the air like whips. If they were less experienced sorcerers, they would have been unable to take another step. In addition to the volatile atmosphere, the temperature had dropped significantly. They were supposed to be in the middle of spring, yet snow and ice began to cover the ground. Harsh, freezing winds hit them mercilessly. The air had gotten cold enough that they could see their own breaths, as one would expect when it’s the dead of winter. 

Suddenly, a deep thrum filled the air. It could be felt through the icy ground they now stood on. Before any of them could move another muscle, a dark fog began to form before them. It swirled and grew bigger, surrounding the pseudo-tundra in darkness. Nanami reached for the wrapped blade behind his back while Satoru readied himself to use his Hollow Purple technique. As the fog grew denser, Suguru could hear the shrieks and trills of the creature he despised. A long body of white fur and feathers emerged from the fog. Its talons clicked against the ice as it made its way to the group. 

Despite the additional years of growth and improvement, Suguru still felt like a kid who was way in over his head. The same terror of the past filled him. It seemed that Satoru and Nanami were in the same situation. Nanami’s hand was frozen on the handle of his blunt sword. Beside him, Satoru became as still as a statue, not even breathing. 

“You guys weren’t kidding, this thing is nightmare fuel.” With a shaky breath, Shoko stepped towards the giant entity. Her body appeared relaxed and expression calm as she approached. Satoru looked like he was about to have a heart attack, but then the cursed soul did something that shocked them. 

It began to coo at Shoko, using its hooked beak to ruffle her hair. It was nothing like the violent monster that had traumatized the three men and permanently damaged Satoru’s brain after forcing him to have vivid hallucinations for several days. This creature was not violent whatsoever. When Shoko placed a hand on the being’s long neck, the creature melted into it with a pleased chirp. The entity wrapped itself around the young woman and squawked at the three frozen men. 

Shoko pet the soft fur of the beast. “I think it wants you to come over here. I bet this creepy fella is our ride to Sukuna’s place.” 

Without a word, Nanami, Suguru, and Satoru obeyed and let the beast constrict around them. However, the grip was not meant to strangle, but secure. The most powerful of the cursed souls trilled soothingly as the fog from before wrapped around them. It was what Suguru imagined being inside a tornado felt like. He kept his eyes shut and held onto Satoru’s hand with a death grip, which Satoru reciprocated. The gentle hums and clicks of the beast helped distract the group from the disorienting sensation that came with warping. Satoru’s teleportation abilities were much less nauseating than this, but it thankfully ended quickly. 

As the fog cleared, the shrine that they had been trying to find appeared. It was quite large for a shrine, looking more like a temple. Though, it made sense that someone as grande in stature as Sukuna would have a shrine that reflected that aspect. The deep crimsons of the shrine were fitting, but the flower pots certainly weren’t. As they ascended the stone stairs, Suguru noticed the messy, hand made pots on each step. There were some that looked professional and others that looked like a child had made it. No one spoke, but all held curious expressions towards the flower pots. 

Once they reached the top of the stairs, they were greeted with two heavy doors. Their monstrous ‘host’ simply slammed through the heavy doors and began to scurry down the hallway. It eventually grew impatient with their gawking stares and scooped all four adults in its beak and ran towards their destination. Its claws clacked against the stone floor as it galloped, emitting excited trills. When they reached an open space, the being deposited them onto the ground. 

What they saw was…unexpected.

A man half the size of the ten-foot curse of legend had said curse by the ear, tugging on it like a scolding parent. Neither had noticed their presence, both too busy squabbling to glance at their arrival. The man with pink-hair wrapped his hand around one of the holes created by Sukuna’s ear gauges and pulled . In response, the fearsome King of Death shrieked .

“OW! NOT THE PIERCINGS-AGH- FUCKING HELL- SHIT- QUIT IT!”

“THIS IS WHAT YOU GET FOR BEING AN INCONSIDERATE PRICK!”

“I AM NOT A- OW FUCK! STOP TUGGING THERE, YOU ASSHOLE!”

“NO!”

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN- OWOWOWOW! YOU’RE GOING TO TEAR MY FUCKING EAR OFF!”

“GOOD! YOU ARE A SHIT LISTENER ANYWAY!”

“FUCK YOU-”

The pair soon divulged into petty slapping, Sukuna using his extra arms to his advantage as he slapped the other’s hand away from his bleeding ear. In response, the much smaller man bit one of Sukuna’s top hands. It was textbook sibling horseplay, reminding Satoru and Suguru of their own children’s attempts at killing each other. The white-haired man had to bite his lip to stifle a laugh when the pink-haired man wrapped his body around Sukuna like a koala in an attempt at a chokehold. Sukuna turned his body around to get the man off, causing him to make eye contact with his guests. He froze.

Like scruffing a kitten, Sukuna detached the other by the collar of his shirt. He donned an impassive expression and raised his brow. “Stare any longer and I will gouge your eyes out one by one.”

The…’meeting’…had begun.

-

With the sorcerers arriving far earlier than anticipated, Sukuna could now understand Ryomen’s ire with him. His ear had healed instantly, but it didn’t mean Ryomen’s incessant tugging didn’t hurt like a bitch . It was also quite humiliating to have the sorcerers see him and Ryomen roughhousing. They did it frequently and gruesomely. With Sukuna’s mastery of reversed cursed technique, he could heal himself and any damage Ryomen sustained. It allowed the two to not hold back in their attacks, which also served as a way to relieve stress. Ryomen was a powerhouse in his own right, so Sukuna knew he could handle his own attacks without breaking. Their more petty fights that included tugging on ears or pinching arms were more rare nowadays. With Yuuji, a very impressionable toddler, around, they knew that it would be best that the boy did not pick up his father and uncle’s habits. Speaking of the boy, the commotion from the kitchen alerted him and his guardians. He stood at the entrance to the backyard, holding a daffodil with white, fluffy seeds in his hands. There was nothing but surprise on his chubby face. 

Everything came to a standstill.

Sukuna noticed how the new limitless user froze. It was odd to see this younger version of the sorcerer he had battled and detested. When Sukuna thought of the strongest sorcerer of the modern era, he still pictured the original Gojo Satoru, a man of indescribable power and might. It will likely take a while for Sukuna to see this Gojo Satoru as the strongest. The young man clearly was not anywhere near the level his older self was. If Sukuna’s memory served him correctly, then this Gojo Satoru was twenty years old. Two decades on this Earth . With all that Sukuna had seen and experienced, two decades was nothing to the curse. This Gojo was practically an infant compared to Sukuna. However, once the frozen man ripped off his blindfold, it was then that Sukuna remembered that this boy was still a wielder of Limitless and the Six-Eyes, someone not to be underestimated or written off. The eyes of Gojo Satoru were impossible to forget, even after all this time. Sukuna had always imagined that the heavens had placed the skies in Gojo Satoru’s eyes as a blessing of sorts. A direct contrast to Sukuna’s hellish red. The eyes of the Gojo Satoru today were not that of pure, blue skies. No. They were more like a battle between two oceans, one calm and one turbulent. The bright turquoise and cyans of the peaceful waters clashed with the deep navy and royal azures of the raging seas. The waves came together, forming a white sea foam that split the eye in two. In other words, there was more chaos to be found in Gojo Satoru’s eyes than the clarity they were supposed to be known for. It felt… troublesome … And Sukuna knew he likely had a part to play in the darkening of the ‘Honored One’. 

As the staring match continued between the adults and curious toddler, Yuuji’s lip began to wobble and his honey-colored eyes teared up. With his little legs, Yuuji toddled over to the group as fast as he could. His sudden movement caused the seeds of the daffodil he was holding to fly away. The flower had always been Yuuji’s favorite. In fact, the boy went to the garden every day to find a daffodil to blow on. There were times where Yuuji would give the white flower to one of his guardians or his father or even Sukuna himself. He insisted that everyone needed a wish and would not take no as an answer. It was an act of pure kindness and innocence. However, the sight of the seeds floating away made Sukuna feel sick. His innocence, the second the sorcerers arrived, had disappeared in moments. 

Unbeknownst to the conflict in everyone’s minds, Yuuji continued his journey. However, his onesie combined with the marbled floor caused the little boy to slip. He would have fallen  face first if it wasn’t for Infinite lunging forward to use his body to soften the fall. Yuuji patted Infinite, cheeks puffing out. “Where you go?! Nin-Nin! Where you go?!”

In response, Infinite cooed and used his beak to groom the toddler’s messy hair. Yuuji was attached to all of his guardians, so he got incredibly frightened if one of them disappeared without notice. Despite his sharp beak and talons, Infinite looked like an elongated puppy with how he nuzzled Yuuji. Infinite trilled and made clicks into the boy’s body, knowing how ticklish the toddler was to the vibrations. When the squealing child tried to wiggle away, Infinite curled around him. Yuuji was now completely unaware of the stares from the adults in the room as he solely focused on escaping from Infinite’s tickles. Unaware of the heavy expression on the blonde sorcerer's paling face. Unaware of the disturbed way the user of cursed spirit manipulation looked at him. Unaware of the tears beginning to form in a trembling Gojo’s eyes. 

Sukuna and Ryomen shared a look. The curse knew that the man would demand answers for the strange reactions of the sorcerers who had supposedly never met Yuuji before. Unbeknownst to Ryomen, they had. Is there a part of their souls that remembers Yuuji? But Getou Suguru was dead and being used by Kenjaku, he never got the chance to meet Yuuji. Did that crazy bastard give the sorcerers information? If so, that would mean Kenjaku is aware of what I’ve done. How would Kenjaku know in the first place? It should be impossible…Fuck, I’m too tired for this shit. Sukuna rubbed the bridge of his nose harshly as a wave of fatigue washed over him. Trouble was brewing far sooner than he predicted. As the atmosphere grew more awkward and tense, Ryomen suddenly rushed forward and scooped Yuuji out of Infinite’s coils. Seemingly out of thin air, Supernova jumped from the counter to Ryomen’s shoulder. The purple cat locked its harsh gaze on the strangers in the room. 

The pink-haired man brushed his unoccupied shoulder against Sukuna’s. He whispered harshly, though it sounded more like a snarl. “I’m going to get Yuuji dressed and washed up. Deal with the sorcerers or I will do it for you .” With that, Ryomen left the kitchen, the air around him heating up considerably as he went. Infinite scurried after them to soothe a grumpy Yuuji who was hungry and curious of their guests. His chubby hand reached out over Ryomen’s shoulder towards the sorcerers, making grabby motions. Ryomen gently grasped Yuuji’s hand, leveling another piercing glare at the curse.

Sukuna knew that Ryomen’s tolerance for sorcerers was far worse than his own. While Sukuna saw sorcerers as annoyances, save for the few interesting ones that could put up a fight, Ryomen saw them as dirt beneath his feet. The hatred towards sorcerers and all of humanity ran deep within Ryomen. He had fair reason for his distrust and aborrance, but Sukuna needed his corroperance more than anyone. Kenjaku was scheming something far worse than their plan in the previous world, Sukuna could feel it with every fiber of his being. He would not fail again. He would do everything to ensure that he would never have to see that broken look in Yuuji’s eyes ever again. Even if it meant allying himself with sorcerers. 

“Did you do something to them?” The calm voice of the woman broke Sukuna out of his stupor. He had forgotten she was there. Ieri Shoko. The skilled healer of the jujutsu sorcerers. He had only seen her through Yuuji’s old memories of her. Always neutral. Even now, the young sorceress looked at him with a bored expression.

“I did not. Though, their reaction to the boy is quite interesting.” Sukuna glanced back at the still frozen men. He frowned. “Sit them down on the couches. I need them to be fully awake for this meeting.”

Shoko nodded. Without a word, she dragged the others to the large couch to the left of the kitchen. The living room was grand and spacious. Many of the walls of the temple had been taken down to allow more space for Sukuna and the guardians to move freely. It was one of the few renovations of the shrine that Sukuna appreciated. The girl pushed the group onto the plush cushions, which seemed to snap the others out of their stupor. 

With a gasp, Gojo shot from his seat on the couch. He had yet to replace the blindfold covering his eyes, looking intensely into Sukuna’s. “The kid. Who is that.”

Instead of answering, Sukuna plopped himself on the floor with a considerable distance between him and the sorcerers. With his back against the giant couch, Sukuna had all the sorcerers within his line of sight. The spot also gave Sukuna a way to keep an eye on the ever restless guardians. In the corners of his eyes, Sukuna could see the bright green of Chimera’s eyelights locking onto the sorcerers from the shadow’s spot behind the couch. He could hear the soft rustling of Overtime’s wrappings and the tiny metallic clicks of Resonance’s sharp limbs. Boogie was the only one unaccounted for, but Sukuna knew that the slobbery beast would make his appearance soon enough. Sensing the wariness from the guardians behind him, Sukuna was quick to start damage control. “No need to look so tense, boys. You three look constipated.”

Gojo sputtered, completely caught off guard by Sukuna’s response. His companions shared a similar sentiment, staring at Sukuna like he had grown a second head. Never one to be out-sassed, Gojo rewrapped his blindfold and pointed a slender finger at Sukuna with a pout. “I’m a twenty-year-old man! You’re the one who begged us to come here, so you could at least be bothered to be a good host!”

“Boy, you are not a man by any means.” Sukuna crossed his top pair of arms over his head, his bottom pair settled on his lap. Ignoring the Infinity user’s offended familiar squawk, Sukuna continued. “To answer your initial question, the boy’s name is Yuuji. He is the reason as to why I have requested this meeting.”

“He’s who you want to protect.” Getou’s soft voice replied. It was strange for Sukuna to hear that voice and not think of Kenjaku. However, there was a sincereness in the black-haired man’s tone that could not be replicated by that wretched brain. No matter how long Kenjaku inhabited a body, their acting could never come off as authentic or genuine as their host’s true personality. The utter life in Getou’s brown eyes further reassured Sukuna that he was not talking to a corpse. Getou raised a hand towards the curse. “When you mentioned that you were only interested in protecting what's yours like Satoru and I, you were referring to Yuuji.” It was not asked as a question, but fact. 

“Quite the analytical one, aren't you?”

“I have done my fair share of research over the years.”

Sukuna glanced at Getou, not liking the implications of there being information about him to research in the first place. “I am sure that whatever information you have acquired is inaccurate, but you are correct in your assumption about Yuuji. He is…important to me. And there are beings in this world who wish him great harm.”

“What kind of beings?” The blonde sorcerer asked. He had remained quiet ever since the group arrived at the temple. His yellow tinted glasses were identical to the pair that Overtime wore, but his sharp, human eyes could be seen through the glass. 

“That’s a discussion to be held somewhere else. Not a living room.” Sukuna deadpanned. 

A tense silence overcame the sorcerers and curse. While one party did not want to speak further, the other was racking their brains with what little information Sukuna gave and the countless questions brewing in their minds. 

This was going to be a very long day.

-

If someone were to tell Satoru that he would be having a domestic breakfast with Sukuna, the King of Death, at any point in time, then he would have laughed in their face. Yet here he was, having breakfast with Sukuna.

 Albeit it was a very awkward breakfast as they all had to pretend everything was fine for the sake of the hungry toddler. They all had to swallow their tongues, their prides, their questions for the boy. It made the ever-present chaos in Satoru’s head subtly worsen. He showed no sign of pain however, not wanting to worry his already tense friends. 

It felt like one wrong step and Ryomen would burn them all alive. Though, his ire was hidden expertly as he fussed over Yuuji, answering the toddler’s babbling with his own. Sukuna, on the other hand, did not seem to be perturbed by their presence. He was the epitome of nonchalance. 

To be blunt, Sukuna was not what the legends described him as. Not even close. The stories all sorcerers were told always depicted the curse as a fearsome monster who killed anything and anyone. He was so terrifying that even the dead worshiped him, fearing that he was capable of crossing to their plane and destroying the peace the afterlife was supposed to give them. During the Heian Era, it had become customary to place offerings of great value on top of all gravestones. It was believed that doing so would prevent Sukuna from taking the soul of the dead from the afterlife. Some tales even spoke of Sukuna having an army made out of the souls of the countless people he slaughtered, forcing them to do his bidding for eternity. Even fellow curses were not spared of Sukuna’s wrath. There was a well known legend of a curse that had killed one hundred people in a single night in an attempt to impress Sukuna, only for him to slice the curse into one hundred pieces to show the curse how easy it was to do something that amount of times. He was a walking calamity. The only reason given for Sukuna’s disappearance was that the curse grew bored of killing and returned to the hell he came from. Considering the curse was sitting across from Satoru eating an ungodly amount of bacon, he knew that the last part was bullshit. Though, he did not doubt that the legends held some truth to them. Sukuna, relaxed as he was, emitted a dangerous aura. It was not evil per say, just threatening. A warning that any attempts at slighting him would be met with a painfully brutal end. However, the curse before Satoru was not the demonic abomination feared by existence itself all stories described him as. 

Especially with how the curse interacted with Yuuji. 

When the strange man, whose name was apparently Ryomen after a very awkward introduction, returned with Yuuji in tow, Satoru felt his heart stop and speed up at the same time. To start, Yuuji was absolutely adorable. He had on an orange shirt with a cartoon tiger on front and a pair of dark blue shorts. When Satoru adopted Megumi and Tsumiki, they had long grown out of toddler age. He had never gotten the chance to dress them in adorable baby outfits, and he knew that his youngest would not allow him to try. No. Megumi would try to kill him if Satoru did that. Yuuji would be spoiled to death by Satoru, he could see it now! After meeting the sweet boy, he was determined to set up a visitation schedule with Sukuna and Ryomen. If Sukuna was serious about an alliance, then the curse would surely allow Satoru to spend time with Yuuji. I wonder what would happen if Megumi met Yuuji? Ah! It would be so cute!

As Ryomen began to prepare breakfast for everyone, Sukuna had been the one to place Yuuji in his highchair. The toddler was giggling the entire time Sukuna held him. Even with the boy pulling on Sukuna’s hair or poking his nose, Sukuna looked as unbothered as ever. A monster as feared as Sukuna should have killed the child, but Sukuna looked at Yuuji like the boy was the most precious thing in the world. Though, based on Sukuna’s gruff nature, Satoru doubted the curse would admit such feelings. 

Satoru could not figure out why he got such a strong feeling of rightness when he was interacting with the toddler. Nanami and Suguru seemed to feel something as well with how they stared at the boy with curiosity and unexpected fondness. In seconds, Yuuji became something treasured by Satoru. It felt so right to dote on the boy and make him smile. Something inside him told Satoru that the boy more than deserved to be loved and spoiled.

“Go-Go!” 

“Yes, Yuuji-kun?” Satoru cooed to the toddler, using all of his self-restraint to not pinch at his chubby, striped cheeks. When Yuuji went to properly meet Satoru and the others, he beamed at all of them and tried his best to say their names. Though, the toddler kept pronouncing the ‘Jo’ in Gojo’s name as a ‘Go’. He did not mind the error whatsoever. It made his heart want to burst at the seams from how precious the little boy was. 

Yuuji grabbed an onigiri from the plate on the tray of his high chair and tried to hand it to Satoru. “Nummy!”

“Oh! You want to give me an onigiri, Yuuji-kun?”

“Mhm!” 

Dear Lord, I’m going to combust from sheer cuteness! Satoru made sure his squealing was only in his mind. Hopefully. He carefully plucked the rice ball from the toddler’s tiny hand, which looked even smaller compared to his much larger ones. “Thank you, Yuuji-kun! You’re such a nice boy!”

This time, he could not stop himself from pinching one of his chubby cheeks. He was seated right next to the toddler, how could he not pinch his cheeks?! Yuuji squealed from the gentle pinch, his smile even brighter. On the other side of Yuuji, his father glared at Satoru murderously. He ignored Ryomen and bit into the snack. Instead of the savory flavor Satoru expected, he was greeted with an explosion of earthy sweetness on his tongue. It was sweet potato! Satoru had heard that there were sweet fillings for onigiri, but he had never tried it until now! He could also detect some sugar mixed in to add to the sweetness. 

“It good?” Yuuji patted his tray excitedly while simultaneously bouncing in his seat. A spotted wrapping from behind the toddler went to calm him. It was the mummy cursed soul, the one that shared several features with Nanami. With his wrappings, the mummy-like entity soothed the fabric over Yuuji’s hair. Eventually, Yuuji stopped bouncing so much, but he was still eagerly waiting for Satoru's response, his chubby hand holding onto one of the wrappings. 

“So good, Yuuji-kun! You’re a very good cook!” Satoru hummed happily at the pleasant aftertaste. He went to take another bite, feeling smug since the others did not get to try the wonderful treat. He was definitely Yuuji’s favorite!

Sukuna rumbled a deep laugh. “Yeah. the brat’s already shown a talent for that kinda stuff.” He leant back on his chair, much larger than the others considering the curse’s size. His plate that had been stacked primarily of meat was licked clean. He looked more like a satisfied cat than a genocidal beast. In fact, the actual cat in the room looked far more vicious than Sukuna. The purple-furred feline was perched on Ryomen’s chair while looking at everyone with dark, critical eyes. The only times that the cat would relax was when Yuuji reached to pet him. Any other time, the cat looked ready to maul someone. It was hilarious considering that Sukuna, the one who was supposed to be the violent one, looked ready to fall asleep. 

The rest of breakfast was spent in silence. Satoru, Suguru, Nanami, and Shoko had not gotten to eat until now, so they were not going to pass up an offer of free food. Ryomen, despite his wariness of them, was a good cook. The eggs were fluffy, the bacon was crispy, and the onigiri was delicious. His son was already following in his footsteps. Near the end of the meal, Yuuji began to doze off, sleepy from the warm meal. An equally sleepy Sukuna stood up and picked up Yuuji from his high chair. Without a trace of fear towards the four armed curse, Yuuji yawned and nuzzled his head into Sukuna's shoulder, placing a thumb in his mouth. 

“I’m going to set Yuuji down for his nap. Take them to the basement, yeah? We’ll have the most privacy there.” Sukuna spoke to Ryomen softly, not wanting to jostle Yuuji awake. He then used his bottom set of hands to gesture towards the several cursed souls scattered throughout the place. “Come on, you bastards. I need all of you to watch him for the next couple hours. And I mean all of you.” 

With great reluctance, all the cursed souls followed after Sukuna. It was jarring to see the beasts that had nearly killed him, Suguru, and Nanami act as house pets. Granted, very protective house pets, but pets nonetheless. They were clearly there to protect Yuuji, yet that made Satoru fear for the boy’s safety even more. If Sukuna, the most powerful curse of all time, Ryomen, a man that seemed capable of and willing to burn the world for his son, and six beasts stronger than any special grade were not enough to ward off this threat Sukuna mentioned, then Satoru doubted that his peers could provide any help. Hell, Satoru might not be able to do anything. He had faith in his comrades, but he knew that the threat on the horizon was far above them in power. The fact that Sukuna needed help proved that this threat was on an entirely different level. And Satoru was selfish. He did not want to risk his loved one’s lives fighting a being they could not win against. 

The thoughts inside his head began to grow into a flurry of chaos. It felt like his skull was about to explode as his senses overwhelmed him. Satoru had gotten accustomed to the daily sensory overloads, but it did not stop his head from hurting any less. The fierce migraine that had been brewing all morning started to pound at his temples. Too much. Too much information. His six-eyes and mind were giving him too much information!

A much greater evil will emerge, and you will lose without Sukuna.

Long hair. Stitches. Brain. Prison.

We will not show mercy if Yuuji is harmed by any of you. 

Pinkpinkpinkpink.

It’s likely that Kenjaku is going to be an even bigger threat than before. 

Faker. Faker. Faker. Faker. Faker. Thief. Thief. THIEF.

Take care of Megumi and keep an eye on Suguru and Nanami.

Spiky hair. Tattoos. Stolen. A bloodied man without an arm. A smiling man on the beach.

You will experience all my pain, all my anger, all my loss within moments.

It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. ITHURTSITHURTSITHURTSITHURTS-

A warm hand encased his cold one.

The familiar warmth of Suguru’s hand helped center Satoru, his boyfriend soothed his thumb over Satoru’s palm. Through trial and error, the two had figured out the best ways to help Satoru through his constant information overloads. It had been a while since Satoru had such a severe episode, even if it was short. This migraine would stick with him for a couple days at best. The thick blindfold around his eyes helped in giving his overworked brain a break. 

When he came to his senses, he noticed that everyone was staring at him with concern. Except for one. Ryomen was busy unlocking the heavy door that led to the cellar, cursing beneath his breath. 

There was a click and the door seemingly opened on its own. Ryomen glanced at Satoru with an indecipherable look in his tired eyes. It did not contain the wariness or aggression from before, it was something softer than that. Conflicted almost. With a sigh that could rival Nanami’s on a bad day, Ryomen gestured for the others to follow. “This is the staircase that leads to the basement. There’s no artificial light in there, so stick close to me.” With a flick of his tattooed hand, a flame appeared at the center of his palm. 

Without further hesitation, the group of sorcerers followed the pink-haired man into the basement. Unknowing of the horrors they were about to uncover. 

.

.

.

-

.

.

.

“I need to ensure that you sorcerers will not go off and tattle to your pathetic leaders.” A curse with four arms and tattoos spoke in a dark room. He sat at the head of a stone table, which was low to the ground and covered in runes of a language long forgotten. Instead of chairs, there were lush pillows colored a deep crimson. The curse with his grand form sat upon the cold floor, too large for the pillows and uncaring of the hard ground. One hand from his upper set of arms was used to prop the monster’s head on his knee. It was too casual a position considering the topics that were being discussed, but the curse could not be bothered to care. 

“Only idiots are actually loyal to those geezers.” A woman sat on the other side of the table with her other companions muttered with a roll of her eyes. Her posture was relaxed but her eyes were as calculating as the other sorcerer’s in the room.

“So you four truly hold no loyalty to them?” A man that resembled the curse asked with a raised brow. He sat to the right of the curse, looking far more tense than anyone else. 

“They do not deserve any amount of reverence.” A blonde-haired man spoke with a monotonous voice, yet the way he clenched his fists was an indicator of what the man truly felt. He sat in a perfect seiza, the display of respect to the curse and pink-haired man shocking the other occupants. His tendency to be formal and courteous was apparent even now.

“We have been wronged by the elders far too many times for us to hold any sense of duty to them. There is no need to worry. Whatever is said in this room will stay in this room.” A man with long black hair and a voice of honey talked directly at the curse. His words were nothing but reassuring. Leaning onto the black-haired man was a thinner man that seemed to be in a great deal of pain. Instead of a response, the man with snow-white hair gave the curse a thumbs-up to show his support. 

The room fell quiet for several seconds as Sukuna, the curse that had summoned them all, mulled over the information. Eventually, he broke the silence with a firm nod. “Alright. The disdain in your voices is proof enough that you will not reveal anything to those piles of bones.”

Sukuna glanced at the man on his right, Ryomen. Their shared souls allowed them to read each other's minds in a sense. It could be more accurately described as feeling the other's intentions or emotions. Ryomen raised his hand and sent small flames to the candles hung on the wall. He also sent his fire to the various candles that hung from the ceiling of the basement. A gentle orange glow covered the room. With the added light, the sorcerers could see the many weapons and ornaments decorating the walls. There was a bookshelf dedicated to nothing but ancient texts and another filled with nothing but bovine skulls. Another shelf displayed countless kunai, shuriken, and other small projectiles. However, the most interesting objects Sukuna and Ryomen had were the large trident and staff hung on the wall behind them. The trident was made of a dark steel that was covered in runes and symbols. It was taller than the average man, so it was evident that its wielder was the ten-foot curse. The metallic staff, while smaller, seemed to have more attachments. What seemed like an odd kusarigama chain hung from the top of the weapon. However, instead of a sickle at the end of the chain, it was a tobiguchi. The ancient tool meant for fighting fires was being used as a deadly weapon. The tobiguchi was more melted into the chain than cleanly welded, almost like the one who made it did it in seconds. It was an amalgamation of tools into one weapon.

Ryomen had crafted it with his own hands, but he was not going to reveal such information to the sorcerers before them. Simply thinking of the weapon’s creation made shivers run down his spine. He had created it the same night that he lost his son for good and made a deal with Sukuna. In a fit of mindless grief, Ryomen had gone back to the village that ostracized him and took several objects from the burning homes. A chain from the farmer who had used to whip Ryomen with the damn thing when he caught him stealing his crops as a starving boy. A tobiguchi from the corpse of a man who had tried to use it to fight the fire Ryomen had created. A wooden staff that had been used by the eldest healer who had refused to treat his ill son. A coin from each villager who would wave the yen in front of a begging Ryomen, only to tear it away with a mocking smirk. He would use the metal from the yen coins to reinforce the staff. He then welded everything together, using himself as a furnace. 

There were many tales of the origins of the weapons and artifacts that surrounded Sukuna and Ryomen, but none were to be told . Not yet. 

With a more serious posture, Sukuna cleared his throat and adopted a stony expression. “I’ve summoned you miserable lot here to discuss a threat. Normally, no opponent would be powerful enough to challenge me in such a way. But this is not about me. I would be a fool if I gambled the lives of my kin on the off chance that I would defeat this threat in the blink of an eye.” Sukuna did not catch the look of surprise on Ryomen’s face when the curse inadvertently called Ryomen and Yuuji his family. The four-armed curse continued. “This threat is a curse user named Kenjaku. What they lack in physical power, they make up for in brutal intellect.”

“You mentioned in your letter that this curse user, Kenjaku, was growing stronger and would reappear in eight years.” Suguru, the man with the calm voice and long hair, spoke. His warm brown eyes held a cold and calculating gaze towards the curse’s crimson ones, unblinking. “Why would you give them the chance to grow stronger and not eliminate them now? Eight years is also quite a specific amount of time. How are you so sure Kenjaku will do something then?”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I agree with you, sorcerer.” Ryomen stared at Sukuna, trying to piece together why Sukuna would do something so idiotic. 

Instead of allowing the curse to speak, another voice spoke up. It was Nanami, the sorcerer with blonde hair and odd glasses. “It is confusing that you are allowing a threat to your family to grow stronger. You know who they are, but you haven’t killed them.”

Satoru, the one who had been leaning against Suguru, added onto the barrage of questions. “How come Kenjaku is waiting for eight years to start their evil plan or whatever? And, like Suguru said, how do you know it’ll happen in eight years? Did Kenjaku tell you or is it just a really good guess?”

Questions were thrown left and right, none of them allowing Sukuna the chance to answer. The only one who had stayed quiet was the sorceress of the group, Shoko. She glanced at Sukuna with a raised brow and shrugged before returning to looking at the chaotic barrage of voices. 

With a patience expected of a saint, Sukuna allowed the group to continue their questionnaire until they realized he was not answering any of them. The first to realize was Nanami, who was quick to make the others stop talking. When the silence returned, Sukuna relished in it for a few moments. Making a habit of napping as often as Yuuji was now coming to bite the curse. He truly had no desire to have this meeting, he wanted to sleep for a century, but there was no turning back. They were here, and Sukuna had to deal with that… There must be something here that will make this easier… Sukuna stood from his seat and went to one of the bookcases lining the basement. He scanned through the many books and weapons until he found a glass bottle filled with smoke. Item in one of his bottom set of hands, Sukuna returned and plopped back down on the floor. The others were staring at him expectantly, but Sukuna could not be bothered to explain.

Sukuna used another hand to remove the cork sealing the bottle, causing a loud pop that startled Ryomen in particular. Immediately, the curse unsheathed his claws on his upper left hand to slice a deep cut into the palm of his upper right hand. Blood pooled from the wound as Sukuna clenched his hand tightly. He aimed his wound towards the open bottle. Once the droplets of crimson entered the bottle, a crackle of thunder filled the air. The fog turned red and began to billow out of the bottle and onto the table. There was a coppery smell to the fog and it did not dissipate, growing denser and denser until Sukuna slammed his bloodied hand onto the table. Similar to a magnet attracting iron filings, Sukuna’s blood attracted the thick smog to circle around his hand. 

With his head bowed and eyes closed, Sukuna began an incantation. “ Emerge from the darkness, blacker than death. Impurify that which is pure. ” 

The crimson fog turned black as it continued to encircle Sukuna’s hand, growing wider and wider with each rotation. Gusts of wind whipped at the faces of the sorcerers, who had all taken defensive positions. Ryomen had a knowing look in his eyes, but his scowl showed the man’s displeasure with what Sukuna was planning. Finally, when the contained hurricane of blood and darkness stopped turning, Sukuna lifted his hand from the table, admiring his work. 

What was once a cluttered basement was now an empty void covered in black fog. At the center of it all was Sukuna, who was sitting on the stone table, the only object that hadn’t disappeared. With a flick of his hand, several tendrils of smoke surrounded the four sorcerers. Before the sorcerers had any time to react, the dark fog disappeared, revealing a familiar set of eyes and tattoos.

Each sorcerer now had the same marking Ryomen and Sukuna had on their foreheads and two black bands around their wrists. However, the most startling change was the extra set of eyes on the young adults’ cheeks. Ryomen reluctantly opened his second pair of eyes he preferred to keep hidden. With no explanation from Sukuna, the tension in the room grew worse. The crackle of rising cursed energy made it difficult to breathe, but Sukuna continued to look unperturbed by it all. Even though there were two special grade sorcerers in the area, the curse was not intimidated in the least. 

“Drop your defenses, this place is incapable of producing any attacks. It is simply a device that will make visualizing my words easier. I have no desire to waste my time on lengthy descriptions, so this will do it for me.” Sukuna leaned back on his bottom set of hands, the upper set crossed over his tattooed chest. Like a friendly bird, the fog swirled around Sukuna, awaiting his next command. 

Satoru was the first to relax. Despite the migraine stabbing viciously at his brain, Satoru was still the most perceptive person in the room. His Six-Eyes had become more of a nuisance in recent times, but it would always be an invaluable asset in Satoru’s arsenal. Even with the additional tattoos and eyes, Satoru could not detect any danger. Though, the sensation of having an extra pair of eyes was quite uncomfortable. He could only see darkness through the second set, leaving him confused as to why Sukuna gave them a seemingly useless addition. 

Seeing the wariness in the sorcerer’s eyes, Sukuna finally decided to explain himself. “This fog is known as the Wretched Haze. It is a special grade cursed object that allows the user to construct whatever they desire as long as they have enough cursed energy. By giving it your blood, it can determine if you are worthy of its power or not. Of course, that is not an issue for me.” Sukuna gave a sharp-toothed grin. He pointed at the markings on the group’s faces. “Those markings only exist in this veil and will disappear once I dismiss it. The eyes will allow you to see what I create as the smoke is usually only visible to its wielder. Now, sit down unless you want me to slice you in half.” He flicked his hand and four makeshift pillows were constructed from the smoke. The sorcerers reluctantly sat down while Ryomen remained upright. In silence, Ryomen slunk over to the stone table Sukuna sat upon. He sat with his back against the table and the sorcerers. 

With that, Sukuna began constructing a familiar forest. “September of 2007. Sendai. I know that I do not need to explain the significance of this event, correct?” Without waiting for an answer from the sorcerers, Sukuna continued. More smoke was then formed into seven figures at the center of the forest. Six monsters. One infant. “This is when you encountered the cursed souls and Yuuji. It is also when you discovered that I had returned. The issue lies in the fact that this event was supposed to occur in 2018.”

Ryomen jolted at that. He snapped his head towards Sukuna, but the curse was looking elsewhere. Anger boiled in his gut at not being told such concerning information, but Ryomen knew better than to go on a tirade. Sukuna was finally talking . Ryomen had to listen, no matter how frustrated he became at the curse’s horrid communication skills. 

“Before any of you ask how I would know such a thing or bring up my knowledge of the timing of Kenjaku’s plans, I have a question for you, cursed manipulator.” Sukuna pointed at Suguru. The long-haired man straightened from his seat on the ground. “You mentioned that you have done your fair share of research. Tell me, sorcerer, what do you know of cursed souls?” As he said this, the smokey forms of the cursed souls separated from the baby, who had now disappeared. The dark fog of the forest shifted into a barren landscape with only a single tree at the center.

“In the text that I read, cursed souls were said to be the remnants of the ‘rough draft’ the Earth had for life.” Suguru spoke calmly. He tried to summon his inventory curse and was relieved when he felt no resistance from the veil. The purple worm wrapped around Suguru’s body and spat out the requested scrolls and textbook. Once in hand, Suguru gave the book to Sukuna, making the textbook look miniscule in the curse’s large palms. He also gestured towards the scrolls, looking pointedly at the largest one. “This is the only information that Jujutsu Society has on cursed souls and you, Sukuna-san. As you can see, there is a stark lack of knowledge. I discovered these texts in the catacombs of Jujutsu High in Tokyo, so this was information most are unaware of. The catacombs are meant to store that which is meant to be forgotten. I already knew of the catacombs prior to the mission in Sendai, and I was familiar with the layout due to my frequent visits there. These scrolls were hidden in the deepest parts of the catacombs. They were clearly not meant to be found. This textbook, while modern, was also amongst the scrolls.”

Several tendrils of smoke took the offered scrolls while Sukuna continued to examine the textbook. The hardcover of the book was polished, but the pages showed signs of use. From the creases, it was evident that this book was read many times over. Sukuna frowned deeply as he saw the various paintings of the guardians across the centuries. Those bastards must have run amok when I was sleeping. It was foolish of me to think that they would stay in one place, especially that damn bird. Despite his frustration, the ramblings of the author were much more concerning than the apparent fact that the guardians had gone on a worldwide tour. Itadori Kaori. Sukuna wanted to scream. He knew through Yuuji’s faded memories that this was the name of his mother. Well, it was more accurately the body of who would have been Yuuji’s mother if Kenjaku had not stolen the woman’s corpse. While he was not surprised that the curse user would do something so disgusting just for the sake of scientific curiosity, it still did not make the bile in his throat disappear. It had been millions of years since Sukuna learned of Yuuji’s ‘creation’, and time had not made the fact easier to accept. However, Sukuna grew more disturbed for a different reason. If Kaori Itadori was alive, then that meant she knew of the cursed souls, but Sukuna highly doubted a normal human would know such things or write in such a deranged manner. No. Kenjaku had likely stolen her body once more. The damned brain was quite picky with who they inhabited. They had to meet a certain criteria. From what Sukuna remembers of his meetings with Kenjaku in a world long gone, the curse user would only inhabit a tall body with black hair, long or short, and pale skin. Additionally, the brain only stole the bodies of sorcerers with powerful techniques. Sukuna could not remember what Kaori’s cursed technique was, but it must have been intriguing enough to catch Kenjaku’s eye. If the Kenjaku of this new world was the same as the old one, then their preferences for bodies had remained the same. Despite the resetting of the world, it seemed like the death of Kaori Itadori was something that could not be erased. 

Sukuna felt sick. The detailed descriptions of the cursed souls and the deranged theories pointed to one conclusion. Kenjaku knew . They likely did not know of the origin of this world’s creation, but they had studied the Yuuji’s guardians extensively. He felt the burning gaze of Ryomen locked onto the back of his skull, but Sukuna could not bring himself to look at the man. He purposely kept the textbook out of sight of Ryomen. Besides Kenjaku knowing of the cursed souls Sukuna had created, there was another concerning factor to this disastrous meeting. The Itadori family. Sukuna knew of Ryomen’s hatred of them. Ryomen had never allowed Sukuna to see into his memories, and he never spoke of what the Itadori Clan had done to him. This time, Sukuna was in the dark. All he knew was that Ryomen had slaughtered every Itadori he could find, essentially wiping them out. It was one of the first things Ryomen had done after he had given his soul to Sukuna. They never spoke of it. And Ryomen never explained why he had done such a thing. 

He shut the textbook, hiding it within the smoke. He would have to tell Ryomen about the Itadori family’s apparent survival at a later date. A much later date. 

“The information is not as inaccurate as I thought.” Sukuna mused, a hand on his chin. He grabbed the largest scroll and unraveled it with the aid of the fog. In silence, he read over the various texts and paintings. He did not recognize the handwriting, which meant that Kenjaku had not written this scroll. Though, Sukuna was not sure if it was better or worse, considering there was an additional party that knew of his origins. “This scroll has truth to it, but there are several errors and misconceptions.” 

Sukuna made the smoke figures of the cursed souls stand before him. He grabbed a ball of fog and cupped it in his bottom set of palms. He pressed down on the ball until he felt the pressure reach its maximum. When he opened his hands, a white sphere laid in the center of his palms. With his technique, Sukuna slashed the sphere into several pieces. A piece went into each guardian while the other pieces floated in the air. “The cursed souls do belong to a world long forgotten.” He would not elaborate further. He just couldn’t. 

All the sorcerers and Ryomen had stood up and were staring at the bright pieces in both awe and fascination. Satoru had even taken off his blindfold to stare at the lights, his migraine be damned. While Satoru, Nanamo, and Shoko looked at the lights, Suguru was staring at the tree. The extra pieces that floated in the air had settled in the leaves of the tree of fog. Then, the tiny pieces each shifted into the form of a peach. Suguru glanced to see if anyone else noticed what he was seeing and was met with Ryomen’s pained gaze. 

“Yuuji had always loved peaches. They were the same color of his hair, and he would tell that to any who mocked him for his unique hair color. He would say the same thing when he was defending me from the villagers ire.” Ryomen spoke quietly as a sad smile made its way across his features. Sukuna was speaking to the other sorcerers about the cursed souls, speaking of their names and abilities, vital information Suguru should listen to. But he could not bring himself to. The grief and anger in Ryomen’s eyes was familiar to Suguru, as he had seen it on his own face when he thought of Riko. 

“You speak of him in the past tense, but the boy was as lively as ever when we arrived.” Suguru responded gently, having a sinking feeling of what had happened to the boy. Unlike his own children, Yuuji seemed to be shielded from the horrors of the world, happy and carefree like a child should be. However, Ryomen’s gaze spoke of another story. 

Ryomen reached a hand towards one of the peaches made of glowing, white light. He cupped it in his hands as if it was the most precious thing in the world. “Heh. It seems like I still have that habit of speaking about Yuuji. It’s quite a pesky habit, but one I have had for one thousand years.”

Suguru felt his heart sink. The boy at the peach tree, alone and crying, was Yuuji. He had to wait for one-thousand years to be resurrected, and Ryomen had to wait one-thousand years to have his son in his arms again. Before he had Mimiko and Nanako, Suguru had looked down upon the father for not allowing the boy to rest. Now, Suguru understood why Ryomen had gone so far to keep Yuuji alive. If he lost either of his girls or Megumi and Tsumki in such an agonizing way that Ryomen did, Suguru would not have been able to accept their deaths. He would have done anything to give them another chance at life. Suguru looked at Ryomen and asked as respectfully as he could. “How is he here now?” 

Ryomen sighed. Despite his body looking like that of a man in his late twenties or early thirties, his dark honey eyes held a maturity to them of a much older individual. While the time in the modern era had changed the way Ryomen dressed and spoke, he could never shake the habits and customs of the era he was truly born in. Sukuna shared a similar sentiment. He and Ryomen had both adapted to the curse words of today, but would mix their conversations or insults with the vernacular of the Heian Era. It was difficult to see the young man in front of him as an adult, and the same went for the other sorcerers. He had lived for over one thousand years, so everyone besides Sukuna looked young to him. There had been a deep wariness and resentment for the sorcerers when Ryomen had first seen them, but it had faded considerably fast. They were just so young, and Ryomen’s paternal instinct had flared. When he saw the way that the sorcerers interacted with Yuuji, he realized that this group of sorcerers were not as horrid as he had assumed. Additionally, it made him realize that Yuuji needed human interaction besides himself. He could not keep the boy in the shrine all his life. Perhaps these humans are worth keeping around. The white-haired one seems particularly attached to Yuuji. He deserves to know what friendship and love feel like from someone other than Sukuna and I or the guardians. With Suguru still patiently waiting for an answer, Ryomen held the peach close to his chest. “He was turned into a cursed object by Sukuna. I’m not sure how Sukuna knows how to do that, but he assured me that Yuuji’s soul would be safe. Sukuna has lived far longer than me, so he was knowledge that no one in this world has.” 

Unbeknownst to Ryomen and Suguru, the others had stopped talking to listen to what the pink-haired man was saying. Sukuna also kept quiet, relieved that Ryomen had finally dropped his guard. Whenever Yuuji was the topic of conversation, Ryomen would talk for hours about his beloved son. Ryomen had murdered and hurt like Sukuna had, but they each loved that boy with every fiber of their being. The same care was seeping towards the sorcerers. Ryomen would never admit how worried he was when he saw Satoru’s sensory overload or the fondness he felt when he saw the four interact with Yuuji. It seemed like the four young sorcerers were slowly becoming part of the very, very small group of people Sukuna and Ryomen cared for. Said group used to only include Yuuji, of course, Uraume, who Sukuna secretly hoped reincarnated as he missed their cooking and their company immensely, and Miss Yunnie, the elderly woman in Sendai who made the best desserts and ramen in Japan. 

Ryomen’s gaze was still locked on the small peach. “I wanted something special for the object that would hold Yuuji’s soul. I decided on having the pits from multiple peaches be the object of choice. The guardians would also hold a small piece of Yuuji’s soul within themselves for safekeeping and to detect if a person or curse absorbed one of the pits. There were twenty pits in total, each holding a fraction of Yuuji’s soul. I didn’t want to risk a curse or sorcerer stealing a large portion of my son’s soul, so I decided on multiple cursed objects instead of one. That way, Yuuji’s soul would remain safe. Additionally, splitting the soul also meant splitting the cursed energy, which would make it even harder to detect.” 

There was a watery look in Ryomen’s eyes as he spoke the last sentence. He turned to the tree once more and whispered shakily. “The guardians took all that was left of Yuuji’s physical body along with their own soul fragments. Sukuna told me that the ashes and bones of my son would be used to construct a body identical to his original one. That way, we would not have to use a vessel to hold my son’s soul. But…something went wrong.” He locked eyes with Sukuna, the anger was still present but it was mostly overtaken by exhaustion.  

Sukuna took that as a signal to continue in Ryomen’s place. He slid off of the table and towered over the rest. With several motions from his hands, the glowing lights returned to Sukuna while the lone tree disappeared. Using the fog once more, Sukuna created the silhouette of five people. There was what looked like a man with long hair standing in the center of the other entities. Sukuna made some of the white light take the form of stitches and placed it on the man’s forehead. The other four entities appeared to be curses of some type. There was one that was tree-like, one that was squid-like, one that was a cyclops with a volcano atop its head, and one that looked human if not for the patchwork marks across its body and face. “These are who Kenjaku is working with. Four special grade disaster curses. I may not know their names but I am familiar with their abilities and how destructive they can be.”

With the remaining lights, Sukuna turned them into twenty peach pits of varying sizes. “These are the peach seeds that I sealed Yuuji’s soul within. I planned to release the seals in 2018, but someone managed to unseal it before I could. That someone was Kenjkau. There is no doubt in my mind. They are a curse user with a technique that allows them to swap their brain with any body they desire, essentially giving them immortality. They can also hold onto the techniques of the previous bodies they inhabit and are able to copy their personality and their hosts’s cursed energy. They are the only being who is as knowledgeable of souls like I am.”

Sukuna made six peach pits float into an outstretched palm. “All twenty of the seeds were hidden by the cursed souls, who are Yuuji’s guardians. They have a sliver of Yuuji’s soul within them in order to detect if one of the pits were absorbed, but there has been nothing detected. This would be a good thing if it wasn’t for the fact that-”

“The pits are missing. That’s why Yuuji and the guardians came back ten years too early.” Ryomen finished for him. His eyes were wide at the realization and his body started to shake. He had become so pale he was nearly gray. There was no stopping the feeling of utter betrayal Ryomen felt. Of all things that Sukuna kept hidden, why would he ever keep this from him? He was too distraught to raise his voice any louder than a whisper. “ Why didn’t you tell me? ”

“Because I have no proof to that claim and because I knew you would not rest until all seeds were found. Yuuji was an infant who needed constant attention. He needed his father with him, not on a wild goose chase that might not result in anything.” Ryomen looked shocked and while Sukuna had an apologetic look within his eyes, no apology came verbally. With a surprisingly soft sigh, Sukuna held one of the peach pits close, identical to what Ryomen had done earlier. “If Yuuji was in active danger, then I would have told you immediately. There was no need to tell you back then as Yuuji was perfectly healthy and safe. He has his original body like I planned and his soul is intact-”

“How do you know that?!” Ryomen snapped. “How the hell do you know that his soul is safe?! How the hell do you even know what fucking Kenjaku is doing?! You still haven't explained shit on that end! How to hell do I know you’re not allied with them?!”

“I WOULD NEVER ALLY MYSELF WITH THAT FUCKING DESPICABLE MONSTER! HOW DARE YOU THINK THAT I WOULD DO SUCH A THING AFTER EVERYTHING I HAVE DONE TO KEEP YUUJI SAFE?! ” Sukuna roared back, his prior calmness replaced with furious indignation. The claws on his four hands unsheathed completely as he bared his sharp teeth, making the curse resemble the demon the legends depicted him as. Ryomen did not flinch, but the sorcerers around them were on high alert. Sukuna looked away and tried his best to calm down. He took several deep breaths to compose himself. He knew Ryomen had every right to be upset and distrustful, but Sukuna was never a fair person. He was still furious, but this was not the time to snarl and bite. Sukuna rubbed his temples harshly, claws nearly slicing into his skin. He could tell the truth. He should tell the truth. 

It would make everything so much easier. They would be able to prepare accordingly, and there would not be any doubt about Sukuna’s intentions. It would help Yuuji. It might save him if he told the truth to everyone. 

But then Sukuna would have to reveal why this world existed in the first place. 

He would have to reveal what he had done to the innocent boy Ryomen loved so much.

He would have to reveal that he had slaughtered Gojo Satoru in the body of Megumi Fushiguro, the man's adopted son. Yuuji’s best friend.

He would have to reveal everything he did in Shibuya. All the people he murdered and how he had tortured Yuuji with their deaths over and over and over again. 

He would have to reveal that he did work with Kenjaku, even if it was temporary. 

He would have to reveal how he alone had destroyed the world and everything in it. 

He would have to reveal it all . 

He couldn’t. 

For the first time in centuries, Sukuna cowered away from something. 

He was not a good person. Never was.

So he decided to lie. 

“The guardians and I both come from the same forgotten world.” Sukuna knew he was lying through his teeth, but he could not retract his words. The false narrative he would need to construct could have some truth to it to make it more realistic and consistent. He would have to keep up his network of lies for the rest of his immortal life. He swallowed the lump that had appeared in his throat as he used the fog to create two planets. One Earth was full of life while the other appeared to be a lifeless outline. Sukuna walked towards the empty Earth and began to tell a story tainted with lies. “Life is a complicated thing, so the world needed a couple tries to get it right. However, the souls of the faulty ‘first-drafts’ still remained. The world is in a constant cycle of birth, evolution, and destruction. Nothing was supposed to survive the Earth’s attempt at resetting itself, but souls are stubborn. My soul was strong enough to survive as well as the souls of the guardians. I have seen this world go through several evolutions and extinctions. It seems like life today is the final draft that the Earth is satisfied with. The life I lived before this era of evolution is one I do not remember. The first forms of life were souls, which were small and weak, but still alive. Many events that happened then will occur in the present. The Earth is unpredictable in some areas, but there are always patterns it refuses to let go of. Call it a time loop or perhaps an act of God. I don’t care. There are events that are cemented into the Earth’s very being. They will always happen, no matter what one does to change it. Some events are not as important and can be altered, but the few that are vital to the Earth cannot be prevented or avoided. That is how I know of Kenjaku’s plan. No matter how many times the world is reborn and destroyed, Kenjaku will always be a reprehensible individual. Their plans may change, but their corruption persists. As does their timing.”

Sukuna had created a web of lies that were intertwined with several truths to keep the falsehood from falling apart. His voice was steady and confident as he spoke, causing the others to be inclined to believe him. Ryomen had gone eerily silent. Sukuna could feel the conflict within Ryomen as if it was his own. Eager to change the subject, he released the two planets and focused back on the five figures. “Kenjaku is a being that only acts in their own self-interest and curiosites. They are willing to do the most vile things for the hell of it. If Kenjaku has been studying cursed souls, then I have no doubt that their plans are centered around the guardians and Yuuji. They can imbue cursed objects with the souls of others like I can, so they must have discovered the peach pits and managed to release the seals with one of their own.” 

“But you don’t know how many seeds Kenjaku stole?” Ryomen mumbled, his voice empty and dull. 

“I don’t.” Sukuna replied truthfully. For once . “However, Yuuji shows no signs of a damaged or incomplete soul, but there is a possibility that the fragments the guardians have within them may be acting as a substitute. I would have to examine Yuuji’s soul to be sure, but the procedure is quite frightening and stressful. Yuuji is too young to understand a thing if we were to do this now, so I advise we wait until he is at least ten to speak to him about this.” 

Ryomen nodded. He bit his thumb as he looked in the distance, a habit Ryome had when he was thinking quite hard on something. While the man processed, Sukuna noticed the sorcerers getting closer to the curse. Nanami was the one who addressed the curse first.

“Do you have any seeds in your possession?” Nanami spoke lowly.

“Yes, there are six of them hidden within the shrine.” Sukuna replied carefully.

Nanami bowed his head. “Thank you. That means that there are six less pits to worry about. Fourteen is a more manageable amount than twenty. Do you have any leads as to where the other seeds could have been hidden?”

For a moment, Sukuna just stared at the blonde. He remembered how fond Yuuji was of the man, and how he followed the seven-to-three sorcerer like a lost duckling. At the time, Sukuna had found it pathetic. Now, Sukuna saw why Yuuji had adored Nanami so much. The man, as young as he was, held a sternness to him that was equivalent to an old teacher. However, this strictness was more reassuring than intimidating. It showed that Nanami was reliable and would be an anchor of support that could not be lifted no matter what. The Yuuji of the past was a mess of self-hatred, a savior-complex, and emotional repression. Sukuna had only worsened the young teen’s issues, but Nanami had given the boy a dependable and stable adult to confide in. Nanami was still quite young, but Sukuna could see the man’s determination to aid the child. Sukuna felt a small grin appear on his face. “I may not have any knowledge of the seeds' whereabouts but the guardians do. They should be-”

“-ABLE TO TRAIN YOU!” Ryomen blurted out, interrupting Sukuna for the umpteenth time. A wild look appeared in Ryomen’s eyes. The stress of the day had truly gotten to the man. A stressed Ryomen was a violent Ryomen. Though the violence could be physical, it was often verbal with the man going on very long rants about nonsense. 

“Train us?” Satoru tilted his head and scoffed at such an idea. “ We are already fully-trained sorcerers. I don’t think there is much those things can teach us that we don’t already know.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, kid.” Ryomen chirped, his gaze intense as he studied them all. “You’re weak. All four of you. If my son is to be protected. then I will make sure that his human guardians are as strong as his monstrous guardians. I am not going to allow any more sorcerers, so you better be prepared to become a one-man army.” 

Satoru, Suguru, and Nanami froze at the man’s words. They were used to Yaga’s intensity during teaching, but Ryomen was on a completely different level than Yaga. When the pink haired man moved towards Nanami, he did it with such speed that it looked like he teleported. The wrapped blade Nanami wielded was now in Ryomen’s hands. “Based on the suit you are wearing, I doubt that you are an active sorcerer. Your skills must never get rusty if you are to protect my son! Hm…Based on your similarities with Overtime, I assume you have his ratio technique. Good. I’ll have him train you until your technique is strong enough to cut through diamonds and precise enough to cut a droplet of water on the head of a pin. Understood?”

The youngest of the four nodded his head, eyes wide behind his glasses. He could tell by the way that Ryomen spoke that this training would be brutal.Additionally, he remembered the cursed soul that had spotted wrappings and similar glasses. He had seen the entity slice a metal beam in half with only one slash of a thin wrapping. Overtime’s slashes were much deadlier than his own. Nanami had nearly gotten his arm cut off when one of Overtime’s wrappings got too close during the Sendai mission. It would be grueling, but Nanami was determined to grow stronger. An innocent child’s life was at stake, and he could not stand idly by and allow the boy to get killed.

“I am not training with that fucking bird.” Satoru ground out, arms crossed in a childish pout. He was strong enough on his own, and he never wanted to be near the beast again. Ryomen merely smiled. However, it was not warm or reassuring. His smile was like the grin of a beast about to eat its prey whole. 

Ryomen had dealt with enough bullshit to last a lifetime. He was not going to allow Sukuna to take the reins this time. The man had reached his limit with Sukuna’s secretism. His son will be safe, Ryomen will make sure of that, even if he has to do everything himself. Ryomen was going to do things his way. The limitless user had not activated his infinity, so Ryomen took that chance to grab Satoru by the color of his shirt. The honey of his eyes darkened with unsaid threats and warnings. With an authoritative tone, Ryomen reprimanded Gojo Satoru as if he was a child in timeout. “Young man, you are nowhere near the level of power Infinite has. I know that he is a pain in the ass at best and a deranged monster at worst. But he is the only one that can make you stronger as no one else shares the technique you have. So you will be quiet and accept the training like the mature adult you keep saying you are. Got it?”

Now, Satoru had the same wide-eyed look Nanami had. He was the strongest sorcerer, no one could talk down to him without looking delusional or idiotic. However, Ryomen made Satoru feel like a boy all over again. No one had ever spoken to Satoru like Ryomen did. He was usually yelled at and insulted for his many antics, but Ryomen had not raised his voice. The paternal tone was something Satoru was not familiar with. He had begun to develop it for his own children, but there had never been any form of paternal authority aimed towards Satoru. Ryomen pat Satoru’s head, his incredibly warm palm doing wonders to Satoru’s migraine. 

When Ryomen aimed his gaze at Suguru, the long-haired man smiled. “I do not think that any of the guardians will be able to train me. My technique is quite unique so I’m accustomed to practicing on my own-”

“You're training with me.” Ryomen interrupted Suguru. Said man looked like a fish out of water with his wide eyes and open jaw. It reminded him of Yuuji’s face when Ryomen told him that bananas are a type of berry. He could see the troubled mind that Suguru had, it was obvious by the way he held himself and spoke. Ryomen had a feeling that he would be able to relate to the young man on many things. He gently poked at Suguru’s left shoulder. “You have the build of someone that is familiar with hand to hand combat. I may not be able to manipulate cursed spirits, but I know my way around cursed energy and the body. I’ll have you master several forms of martial arts until you don’t need to rely on your curses anymore. When I’m not teaching you how to defeat an opponent with one finger, I will be showing you how to master your cursed energy. To refine and shape it into something truly fitting for a sorcerer like yourself.” Ryomen summoned a flame-like dagger in his palms when speaking about polishing one’s cursed energy. 

Seemingly satisfied with his decision, Ryomen nodded to himself and went to sit on top of the stone table. The three male sorcerers were still left in a state of shock. They swore they could feel their muscles growing sore from the mere thought of the training to come. 

Shoko smirked at her friends. “Hah! Guess you guys are going to the trenches. I’ll be sure to relax extra hard in your honor.”

Before the three could reply, Sukuna barked out a laugh. “Oh, you are not going to be relaxing in the slightest. You are going to be working just as hard as your little friends.”

“Ah yes, have one of those beasts train the healer with no offensive capabilities.” Shoko drawled sarcastically.

“Oh no, you’re not going to be training with a guardian.” Sukuna relished in the confused look on the young woman’s face. He spread his bottom pair of arms out and used the top set to gesture towards himself. Satoru had a wide grin on his face and began to cackle while Suguru tried his best to stifle a laugh behind his hand. Nanami simply looked surprised. “You will be training with me.”

The lollipop stick Shoko had been chewing on dropped out of her mouth. Her normally neutral expression was replaced with one of shock. She had never trained with her peers. She was the healer for goodness sake! Meant to stay on the sidelines and away from the battlefield! Shoko laughed wearily. “What can the King of Death teach about healing? I have never heard you saving a life in any tale.”

Sukuna’s grin widened. “That is because no one is worthy of my aid. However, my reverse cursed technique has been refined over millions of years of practice, so I know much more than you think, little healer.” 

“How advanced? Healing a paper cut?” Shoko had her arms crossed with a scowl on her face.

Another deep laugh burst from Sukuna. His smugness grew even more. “Well, I have been able to regrow limbs in seconds. I have sliced Ryomen to pieces and have been able to heal him completely within moments. I even ripped out his heart and brain and restored it two days later.” It was a grim fact, but Ryomen and Sukuna had made up for that incident. They were very different people in the Heian Era and preferred to simply forget what they had done to each other in those times. 

The casual tone Sukuna adopted made it sound like the curse was talking about the weather. Shoko felt an eye twitch. She had never heard of someone managing to bring someone back to life after such an injury. The brain and heart were the most difficult thing to heal, it was nearly impossible to do so. It was more likely that you would cause further damage to the brain or heart when trying to use reverse cursed technique than actually heal the vital organs. Case in point: Satoru’s brain. When Shoko had examined her friend with her technique, Satoru recoiled immediately and began to scream in agony. For the brief second that Shoko was able to touch Satoru’s head, she saw deep cracks littered through his mind. They were markings that would not show up on an actual MRI or CAT scan as the damage was not physical. It was something otherworldly, and Shoko could not do anything to help Satoru. But Sukuna had healed his brain perfectly before. She needed to grow stronger in her own abilities if her friends were going to be putting themselves in more danger than ever before. Taking out a piece of gum from her pocket, Shoko sighed heavily. “Alright. I’ll be your damn apprentice or some shit.”

It was reassuring to see the sorcerers readily agree to give their aid without any stipulations. Jujutsu Society was corrupted from the inside out, but it seemed like this small group was part of the minority who truly wanted to help people. Sukuna nor Ryomen fully trusted the sorcerers after the meeting, but they were willing to give them a chance. They were willing to do anything to ensure the light in Yuuji’s eyes never fades away. 

Never again.

-

When Yuuji woke up, he was cold. 

He didn’t like being cold.

His Papa and Uncle were always so warm, they were like living blankets! 

But Yuuji was cold. 

The toddler could not even feel the warmth of Supernova’s fur or the soothing heat of Overtime’s magma. Yuuji felt his heart leap up to his throat. He looked around to see if his Papa or guardians were nearby, and he only found a frozen tundra. 

All that the boy could see was white and red. White and red. White and red.

Then he saw gray.

Yuuji looked up from his seat on the snow to the gray figure peering down at him. Instantly, a wave of recognition hit Yuuji. It was the Gray Him! Yuuji stood up, arms close to his chest to preserve warmth. He knew his man. He dreamed of the man in gray every night, but he could never remember the man when he woke up. But when he fell asleep, the sense of familiarity and memories of the previous dream came flooding in. 

The man looked like him if he was older, but he also looked so sad. Yuuji had tried to talk to the man, but he never responded to any of Yuuji’s attempts at comfort. When Yuuji would try to hug his leg or arm, the man would not react either. The gray man would just stare or walk away. Yuuji had begun calling him Mr. Gray or Gray Him as the man had never given Yuuji his name. In fact, Mr. Gray never spoke to Yuuji. Not directly, at least. Yuuji would follow Mr. Gray on his walks throughout the dreamworld they were in and listen to the man’s quiet whispers of regret and apologies. 

Mr. Gray had the same eye markings that Yuuji did and the same marks on his eyebrow and lip. Though, Mr. Gray’s markings looked much more painful than Yuuji’s. He smiled at Mr. Gray, who had now reached a hand for Yuuji to take. Without hesitation, he did. Mr. Gray’s hand was as cold as the snow they were walking through. As they walked, Yuuji saw the many droplets and pools of red across the pure-white snow. The barren trees were covered in frost as well. At times, Mr. Gray would walk away before Yuuji got the chance to say ‘hi’, but this was the first time Mr. Gray was holding Yuuji’s hand! Not the other way around!

“Are you okay, Mr. Gray?” Yuuji asked with a worried frown on his lips. Papa had always told him that it was okay to be sad, but it was also okay to ask for help. 

Instead of responding, Mr. Gray continued to gently tug Yuuji through the tundra, his gray hair and hoodie blowing with the vicious wind. Eventually, they seemed to reach the end of the forest as the trees had disappeared. Where the trees had ended, a deep crater had begun. Yuuji held onto Mr. Grey’s calloused hand tighter. He did not like exploring the crater. It made him really sad and angry when he looked at it, and Yuuji did not know why. 

Fortunately, Mr. Gray did not move any further. He released Yuuji’s hand and knelt in front of the little boy. His eyes were as monochrome as the rest of his body, but there was an emotion within that Yuuji could not place. All that he knew was that it made Mr. Gray seems more alive than ever before. 

“Mr. Gray?”

A pale hand grasped Yuuji’s once more. For the first time, Mr. Gray spoke to him. His voice was raspy from lack of use, and his tone was lifeless as if he was a machine. He squeezed Yuuji’s hands within himself. He whispered to the boy. “Protect them. All of them.” 

“Who?” Yuuji whispered back. Was he talking about Papa and his Uncle Kuna? But they didn’t need protection? They were the strongest people in the universe!

“Keep them safe.” The monochromatic man pleaded. His tone was still dule, but his gray eyes held a desperation deep inside. 

It then clicked for Yuuji. The guests Uncle Kuna and Papa had. The people that made Yuuji all fuzzy inside. He liked them a lot! Gojo was really fun and nice, Getou had a very soothing voice, Shoko had given him a lollipop, and Nanami had made him an origami crane! Yuuji nodded passionately. “Okay! I pinky promise!”

The slightest quirk on the corners of Mr. Gray’s lips made Yuuji want to jump and dance. He was smiling! Mr. Gray had initially gone to give Yuuji the pinky on his left hand, but there was only a stump left. Quick to switch hands, Yuuji beamed at Mr. Gray. “Pinky promise!”

Mr. Gray nodded. “Will you protect them?”

“Mhm!” Yuuji nodded his head once more. 

After their pinkies interlocked and then separated, Mr. Gray had returned to his normally sad expression. He stood once more. As he did so, the winds from earlier turned into a blizzard. It was the telltale sign that Yuuji was going to wake up. But he didn’t want to go just yet! Mr. Gray had talked to him! He smiled! Yuuji couldn’t leave now!

As the snow grew heavier until Yuuji could no longer see in front of him, Mr. Gray’s voice could be heard over the winds. 

“Protect them, even if it costs you your life. They deserve to live…We don’t.”

Yuuji woke up in tears, already forgetting the dream he had had. For the first time, Uncle Kuna was not there when Yuuji woke up from his nap. His lip wobbled as the toddler tried to hold in his cries, but it was no use. Small sobs escaped Yuuji as he grew increasingly more distressed. 

Then a warm, fluffy body pressed against his. Supernova was staring at him worriedly, beginning to purr to help soothe the toddler. His sandpaper-like tongue cleaned away the boy’s tears. As his sobs turned into hiccups, Yuuji could feel Overtime’s soft wrappings smooth over his hair. He then felt Boogie give him a slobbery kiss, causing the boy to giggle. At the end of his bed, Resonance and Chimera were emitting soft churrs and clicks to further calm the frightened boy. Chimera had even summoned a rabbit for Yuuji to hold. The toddler looked around for Infinite and found the bird wrapped around the stone rafters. Infinite trilled softly and lowered his long body until his beak was touching Yuuji’s cheek. The draconic bird nuzzled the boy to reassure the toddler that he was there and that Yuuji was not alone. When Infinite returned to the rafters, he left his smoke-like tail hanging below. There were several eyes Infintie summoned within his tail, each acting as a nightlight for Yuuji. 

The soft blue glow of his room and the calming lullaby were enough to make Yuuji fall back asleep. 

He was safe.

He wasn’t alone. 

He was warm. 

[tasam1075]

Search Abandoned

Jeff put the latest FBI report concerning his son's disappearance on his desk after reading the contents in dismay.

After almost six months of fruitless searches the FBI believed that there was no longer any real chance of finding Scott alive and they should be looking for his body instead.

His watch and other belongings, including blood-stained clothing, had been found, scattered across four states but no other trace of Scott had ever been discovered.

Lady Penelope, along with every IR agent, had been unable to find any trace of Scott.

The latest update from her was full of her frustration at the inability of her sources to locate any sign of Scott, she firmly believed that they should have found something by now.

The FBI had already scaled back their efforts, ready to call the search off.

Jeff wasn't ready to give up on his son but he didn't know what else he could do, where else could they look?

How was he supposed to tell everyone that the FBI now believed that Scott was dead, they would hopefully find his body eventually, that it was now a murder investigation rather than a missing person.

Maddie and Virgil were both blaming themselves for Scott being taken even though they couldn't have known what was going happen when Scott and Virgil left the hotel that evening, both ordered to take a break by their respective partners.

Only Imogen and Valerie, the twins whose early arrival had been caused by the stress of events, were giving them both a reason to carry on day after day.

Chloe, who now stayed close to her beloved Aunt-Bec, had the rest of her uncles reading with her, whenever IR requirements allowed them to do so.

Even John had been on the island for the entire time that Scott had been missing.

Five was on automatic, monitored by Brains, so John could fly Thunderbird 1 and act as Field Commander, a role that he excelled at even if it wasn't his preferred position.

Jeff knew that they would have to make other changes, Five had never been intended to be remotely operated for a prolonged period of time but they may have no choice.

He decided that he would tell the rest of the family about the latest news after the evening meal, once the children were safely in bed.

That discussion did not go well. Rebecca, Scott's heavily pregnant fiancee, broke down and had to be comforted by Maddie and Tintin.

Along with Grandma they escorted Rebecca to her room, not before notifying Jeff that someone would stay with her overnight.

Jeff was relieved that Becky wouldn't be alone, the last thing that anyone needed was another, stress induced, early delivery.

Scott's brothers wanted to drop everything and take over the search themselves, not wanting to stop until they'd found Scott, even shutting IR down.

Jeff, although he agreed with his sons' sentiment, knew that they couldn't do that. It was a heartbreaking decision to make but he knew that there was no choice, IR had to continue even if it meant that the active search for Scott had to be stopped.

It wasn't until John pointed out that Five could be running continual searches for any mention of Scott automatically, without any detrimental effects on IR operations, and that Penny would still have all agents looking for any clues that the others relented.

IR would continue operations, the search for Scott scaled down but never abandoned.

Two days later the FBI publicly announced that the search for Scott Carpenter Tracy, eldest son of billionaire Jefferson Tracy, had been downgraded and the investigation was now classed as a murder inquiry, despite the fact that no body had ever been found.

The Tracy family, publicly, declined to comment on the decision.

****************************************************************** "

All the chapters that I've posted here belong to the same fic.

I'm seriously stuck on the next two scheduled chapters - the characters will not talk to me.....

[bearsinpotatosacks]

Behind a Cold Visage - A Multi Ship Fic

Iceman's jumper has a hole, he goes to Carole to fix it. She notices something else more than a hole.

~~~

For a prompt list, this was "A fixing B's sweater/jacket"

Words: 1338

Texas winters, at least in Corpus Christi, were rather mild. She had the fashion sense of a pop art picture and a grandma is what her mother said, which meant a lot of cardigans, that were never appropriate for the weather. 

This fact had always annoyed Carole, she’d taken up knitting when she was fourteen to get her mind off the worst breakup of her life, at least as she’d thought then. Now, years after, she’d probably knitted an entire wardrobe of clothes if you included everything she’d made for Bradley, plus all the various jumpers, scarves, hats and mittens over the years for Goose, Mav, her family and herself. 

And this year the wardrobe would be added to. There were two more people in their weird, not allowed family. Slider and Iceman. 

Their home was their sanctuary, away from the pressures of the navy, some of which were more on some than others, and the prying eyes of the neighbours, they could be themselves. Safe to cuddle in their bed now too small for four people and creaking from the weight but homely enough that they didn’t care. 

Not that everyone stayed at the same time. Maverick had bought a bachelor pad nearer to Corpus Christi, they were in the suburbs of Portland, about a ten minute drive away on a good day. With the security of the emergency second bedroom, they were safe-ish from the harsh laws of the navy and Texas state.

Carole was half considering just moving to California. With sodomy laws repealed there, this would at least be allowed at home. It was closer to work for Tom and Ron, both still instructors at Top Gun while Maverick was flying with Merlin back out in the middle of the ocean and Goose was getting his teaching qualification to become a physics teacher. Every single naval aviator she’d ever met had tried to explain how the codes for their missions worked, but every time it just seemed too damn complicated. Well, she tried to explain all the ins and outs of running a library and they seemed similarly confused, maybe some things were meant to be unknown.

She broke through her thoughts with a sip of sweet tea. As went tradition, she’d left it to brew outside but it didn’t quite hit the same as it would in the summer. Not that she missed that, the heat had really gotten to her this year. 

Maverick threw the frisbee to Bradley. Slider lifted him up so he could catch it. Goose placed his hands on his hips as he shared a look with Mav. They feigned disgust but smiles were hard to hide.

“Hey, that's cheating!” Goose exclaimed.

“T’isn’t.” Bradley said, still being held securely in Ron’s hands.

“T’is.” Mav said. 

“T’isn’t.” Ron teased. “He’s short, I’m helping.”

“I’m short, and you don’t see Goose lifting me up to catch the frisbee.”

“I’m littler,” Bradley said.

Mav gave him his familiar cocky smirk.

“Oh yeah?” Goose said, his moustache twitching. “Well, it’s still cheating, how about you stop being so little and grow some more? Come on now Bradley, you’re almost five, you should be six feet tall by now!”

That broke everyone’s grumpy masks. Bradley giggled, which made Goose break into a grin and begin to trot over to him. Maverick joined as Ron lowered Bradley slightly. 

Maverick, always the fastest even though he had the shortest legs out of all of the guys, got there first and tickled Bradley’s feet. Goose joined him, making him giggle until he squirmed.

“Daddy, stop!” He yelled.

Goose took him from Slider and lay kisses into his chubby cheeks as he squished him into a hug.

“Sorry, it’s what cheaters get!”

“I didn’t cheat, Daddy-”

The scene carried on. Goose pampered his son in embarrassing amounts of kisses while Mav and Ron watched, hiding their hands gracing each others so the neighbours wouldn’t talk.

What broke her focus was the gentle sound of feet coming out of the kitchen. She knew those considerate steps anywhere. Wanting to command attention but not offend, wanting to please every crowd. Iceman.

As well as pleasing her by not stomping, she loved Ron but he wasn’t very light footed, he was very easy on the eye. She’d told him that she thought so but hadn’t made a move yet. He was newly in a relationship with three men while trying to keep it all a secret, the last thing he needed was a new woman to throw things into question.

“Hey, Tom,” she said, keeping her eyes on the frisbee game as it restarted. “Whatcha got there?”

He seemed surprised when she knew he was there without seeing him. What he didn’t know was that having a toddler had made her hyper aware about where people were at all times, whether she liked it or not. She had to pat the seat next to her to get him to sit down. It was unusual how such a cool and confident man could turn into this insecure when away from the pressures of the navy. 

“A sweater.”

“You’re not wearing it?” She said.

Feeling the breeze stroke her skin, she wrapped her blanket around her a little tighter. 

“There’s a hole in it.”

His words were so carefully chosen. She realised that if they weren’t on good terms, he could do some damage. Carole could also, if they weren’t on good terms, but for different reasons, she didn’t have much of a filter. Words just came out as she said them. Obviously, this meant that while she could make someone’s day with a blase compliment, she could also ruin it by saying something mean a little too loud than she should, because her volume was never appropriate whether she knew it or not.

He stretched out the sweater. It had golden dreidels knitted onto a blue background. Threads were coming loose all over it to give a vague blue halo in the afternoon sun. This was old and well worn, yet perhaps it was what she’d seen of Tom so far that made her feel like he wasn’t the type to wear corny novelty jumpers at all.

“Can I?” She reached for it. 

It was just as soft as it looked as he handed it over. There was a familiar smell. Looking at Tom, she could imagine him tugging at the collar for a photo at Hanukkah. That’s what the smell reminded her of, a childhood home that you could return to but one that would never be the same. 

“Want me to fix it?”

“Can you?”

She turned it over. There was a small but obvious hole in the arm. It wasn’t wear and tear, this was from worrying the same spot over and over again. She looked up at Tom and smiled, there was a storm behind those grey eyes.

“I think so, just got to match the colour so it doesn’t look weird,” she went to get up.

“Where are you going?” He asked.

“Might as well start now, I think I have this blue in my knitting basket,” she lent in a little closer. “It was meant to be a surprise but I was making you a scarf for Hanukkah.”

“Guess you don’t need to now.” He said, looking at his hands. 

“No, I will.”

“Why?”

His head darted up. The immovable Iceman was a deer in headlights. She liked her ability to do that because if there was one thing she'd learnt about loving Navy men was that no matter how much they talked the talk, if you got them on their knees and pulled their head back by their hair then they were putty in your hand. 

“You’re cute that’s why.”

She lent over and kissed his forehead, leaving his face bright red as she moved inside to fix the jumper. Behind her, Ron wolfwhistled. The usual snarky "shut it" that she'd expect from Tom didn't come. When she turned back, he was still beetroot red.

I'm a bit of a sucker for Carole/Iceman, not in a major way but in a small way like this. They all love each other. Also it was illegal to be gay in texas until 2003. Thanks for reading!

[charles-and-camilla-fanfictions]

All the Time in the World - Chapter 7

Birkhall, January 2020

By the end of her life, his Grandmother would have nothing to do with me. She adamantly refused to ever see me again and was vocal in her disapproval of me and her insistence that we would never marry. All of which we conveniently decided not to remember when I attended her funeral and took ownership of her property. She will have known what would eventually happen. She never lost her marbles. The fact that she bequeathed much of her jewellery to Charles, knowing that I would need it tells us she accepted me far more than she ever publicly admitted. Some items we found were ones she had only recently purchased and certainly were not for her own use. They included clip-on earrings, which she did not need, and the most beautiful ballerina brooch, which I fell in love with at first sight. We believe she bought them for me and took them as her own form of a blessing for our eventual nuptials. I wear every piece with nostalgia untainted by those last few years and Charles delights in my wearing of his beloved Grandmother’s jewellery.

Charles returns to me in a state of shock. He tells me about the family’s decision to cut out Harry with a startling coldness and anger before breaking down and I can’t console him. He clings to me and weeps and I’m infected with a familiar hatred towards his family and this institution that seeps through me. The unfairness and favouritism of his mother, willing to do almost anything to protect her precious second son, and ruthless with everyone else. The entitlement of Harry and Megan, who do they think they are to make such demands? And my poor Darling, who can and will make such dreadful decisions but they eat him up on the inside. All I can do is hold him, on the sofa where we once played with both my children and now my grandchildren, the same spot where he was dragged away from me abruptly when I contracted glandular fever back in 1979, against the same cushions where I nursed him when he broke yet another bone in 2001.

I force him to drink some tea and eat a biscuit or two, sitting on the floor this time, cuddling the dogs, throwing their soft ball again and again. Then we get another summons, this time the both of us and I have to leave him to dress correctly to see his mother, to quickly apply makeup and attempt to tame my hair. He smartens up too, his previous suit crushed from lounging on the floor, but as usual he’s ready before me and waits for me impatiently in the hallway, rather than getting in the car. He smiles when he sees me and kisses me as I take his hands, squeezing them. We delay further because we need a moment, just the two of us, to look in each other’s eyes and feel the comfort and reassurance necessary to spend the rest of the evening in false jollity, pretending to his family that his world hasn’t just imploded, masking the severity of the pain and the shock, concealing the hurt so his feelings are merely trifles.

2010, London

We sit together in the car, silently, watching the world pass by in the orange glow of the streetlights. He’s anxious. I can tell by the way he’s fiddling with his gloves. My heart beating in sympathy, I reach over to take his hand. His encases mine but it soothes him to touch me and he smiles at me before staring out of the window again, hands clasped together. Mine are no longer as steady as they once were but it doesn’t bother him. He holds onto them tenderly, regardless, for the duration of our short time together in private. “You look beautiful.” That surprises me. “Not too shabby for an old bag.” That makes him smile. “No. Beautiful. More today than any day before.” And his eyes meet mine and he means it and my heart floods with so much love for him, it almost makes me cry. He kisses the backs of my hands before turning to look out of the window.

There are a lot of people on the streets. All young, some carrying makeshift protest signs about student top up fees. I’m struck with a mixture of jealousy for their freedom and a sadness for the futility of their actions. I don’t know what they’re hoping to achieve. The last time protests worked to change public policy was before Margaret Thatcher. I remember burning to take to the streets and march for my beliefs when hunting was outlawed. I remember screaming at my now husband for not letting me go. But I realise that protests do nothing except make the protestors feel better about having done something. You want to change policy? Go into government. Or do what my husband does, write to them, persuade them, use the power you have. I suppose the people protesting do not have the power they need, hence the need to protest.

The children around us have spotted our car and recognised us. They seem friendly enough, waving at us, phones out, taking pictures. My husband is dreading this performance tonight. He feels like he has to put on a show and be more jolly than he has the capacity to display. I feel it’s good for him. He’s got a very good sense of humour, he just gets tied down with business too much. The crowd around us gets thicker and then the car stops. I can see Charles sitting up straighter. He looks uneasy. And then the mood of the crowd changes. It sounds angry. People are no longer smiling and waving at us. The car gets shoved and then I can feel it shake as it’s hit. An almighty crash smashes the window on my side and I leap and reach for my husband. I want to scream as the car jolts from side to side and the jeers from the crowd are frenzied, like men on a hunt with their prey encircled. The window cracks with the force of another impact and this time I gasp loudly, holding onto Charles’s hand so tightly, feeling the death grip he has on mine in return. He’s trying to instruct me to do something but the words aren’t making sense in my brain. I can just see his eyes looking at me, scared. There’s another thud against the car and there’s a man in a tuxedo shoving protesters away. I watch him grab onto a man and hurl him to the floor, away from the car. He’s one of my officers. And then the car speeds off and we are slammed back against the seats with the force from the acceleration.

If I thought my hand was shaky before, it’s impossible to calm it now. I’ve also never seen him so worried. This is a man who looked on with scant interest as a gunman aimed shots at him. He didn’t even flinch. Now, he’s beside himself with worry. “Swap sides with me.” “What?” “Swap sides. That window will not take a bullet. I need you on the safe side.” But the second I undo my seatbelt, the alarm goes off and it causes such consternation from the PPO, I click it back. I stretch it to move closer to Charles and he wraps his arms around me. “Well, we’ve not done that one before.” It makes him chuckle at me and I know that’s my line for when we get asked about it. For now, I rest my head on his shoulder, glad that I’m with him, whatever the circumstances.

[marysittingathisfeet]

Jesus Wept

The story of Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead In John 11 is famous. It is taught to children in Sunday School almost as much as David killing Goliath. But there are a few things about the story that perplexes me.

Lazarus is ill. His sister's Mary and Martha send word to Jesus that Lazarus is ill. The bible tells us...

When he heard this, Jesus said, "This sickness will not end in death. No, it is for God's glory so that God's son may be glorified through it." Now Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus so when he heard that Lazarus was sick, he stayed where he was two more days...

Say what? He loved them so he stayed two more days? Now if I had heard my really good friends were ill, Id drop everything and head to their house right away. After all Jesus did not have a 9-5 job. He walked all over Israel. So why not head right on over? Jesus had just said that Lazarus illness was to glorify God. If he had headed over right away and healed Lazarus, then the miracle would not have had the same impact. John 21:25 says that Jesus did many things that would not fit in the world if they were all written down. To glorify God this miracle had to stand out. Jesus probably knew that Lazarus was going to die and was probably dead. After all Jesus waited 2 days before heading to Bethany, but when he got there Lazarus had been dead for 4 days.

2 days after being informed that Lazarus was ill, Jesus decides to head back to Bethany (a suburb of Jerusalem- 2 miles from Jerusalem). Before heading back, Jesus tell his disciples that Lazarus has died. When Jesus arrives in Bethany Martha goes out to meet him. She leaves her home full of mourners from Jerusalem to meet Jesus. Martha greets Jesus with..

"Lord," Martha said to Jesus, "if you had been here, my brother would not have died. But I know that even now God will give you whatever you ask."

To which Jesus replies ."Your brother will rise again."

Yes, Martha said, "he will rise when everyone else rises in the last day." Now Martha makes the same mistake we all make. She puts God in a box. Her expectations of God are limiting what she thinks God can do. Instead of asking Jesus what he meant or being open to what Jesus was going to do, she assumes he means something else. Sometimes it is just best for us to shut our mouths and wait on God to move. Martha returns home while Jesus stays outside the village of Bethany. Why did Jesus not return with her? Perhaps he did not want to be surrounded by all the negativity and doubts a houseful of mourners would create. After all when he raised Jairus' daughter from the dead, he chased out all the mourners. Martha told Mary that Jesus arrived, so Mary runs from the house to meet with Jesus. The mourners assuming she is running to her brothers grave follows her. When Mary sees Jesus she falls at his feet and basically says what her sister had said,

"Lord if only you had been here, my brother would not have died." (I wonder how many times Martha, Mary, and the mourners had discussed this in the last 4 days. I am sure they felt like Jesus let them down. But this is a discussion for another day.)

Jesus response to Mary is intriguing. The bible tells us that "When Jesus saw her weeping and saw the other people wailing with her, a deep anger welled up within him and he was deeply troubled."

Why did Jesus get angry? Did he not say that Lazarus would rise? Yet Mary and the mourners are acting like this was the end. True they did not hear him tell Martha that Lazarus would rise again, but they had seen and heard all the other miracles Jesus had done including raising people from the dead. After all did not both Mary and Martha state if he had been there then Lazarus would not have died? I know I get frustrated with my patients when I tell them something and I hear, BUT, but, but... Jesus was both fully God and fully human. He had the same emotions we had.

After the bible tells us Jesus was deeply troubled he asks, "Where have you put him?"

They told him, "Lord come and see." Then Jesus wept.

Why did Jesus weep? He was heart broken, Not because Lazarus was dead as some thought. He knew he was going to raise Lazarus so it was not grief. We know Jesus is angry. Perhaps he wept out of frustration and anger. He is surrounded by a group of people with little to no faith in him or God. Jesus heart was for the people. After all when he entered Jerusalem did he not have the heart felt cry..

"O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, how often would I have gathered thy children together, even as a hen gathers her chickens under her wings, and you would not!" Matthew 23:37.

Plus Jesus was angered by their lack of faith. I know that sometimes when I get really angry, I want to cry. He cried because he was angry. He cried because he was sad that there was such little belief even in those he called friends. He cried for the lost souls surrounding him.

When Jesus wept the people who were standing nearby said, "See how much he loved him!" But some said, "This man healed a blind man. Couldn't he have kept Lazarus from dying?" (See they had been talking about it that why both Mary and Martha said it. They (the mourners) were casting seeds of doubt and discord. Much like the serpent in the Garden of Eden who whispered in Eve's ear casting doubt.)

The next verse tells us that - Jesus was still angry as he arrived at the tomb. Jesus commands that the stone be rolled aside. Martha - the one Jesus had a private conversation about Lazarus being resurrected- protests. She is worried about how bad the smell will be. If I was Jesus I would have thrown my hands into the air and said fine and walked away. But God is love and he is patient- which is good for us. Jesus responds to Martha by saying, " Didn't I tell you that you would see God's glory if you believe?" Belief is the key. Maybe finally at this time Martha and Mary's faith was increasing as their hope was rekindled. After the stone is rolled away Jesus says an odd prayer.

"Father, thank you for hearing me. You always hear me, but I said it out loud for the sake of all these people standing here, so that they will believe you sent me. Then Jesus shouted, Lazarus come out."

Because Jesus had been surrounded by some of little faith and others of no faith, the mockers, he had to make sure they knew who he was and that God was the one raising Lazarus. The bible tells us that Many of the people who were with Mary believed in Jesus when they saw this happen. (Prayer answered.) (Note if Jesus had not waited to go to Lazarus the people (mourners) would not have been there to witness the miracle and believe. Mary and Martha might have thought Jesus let them down, but he had a higher purpose he needed to accomplish.) There were others who ran to the Pharisees. (Always those who are butt kissers.) Interesting how a group of people can see the same event and it affects them differently.

The bible tells us in Chapter 12 verse 17- some time after he had raised Lazarus from the dead. Jesus had finally returned to Jerusalem for the Passover. This was when the crowds met him with palm branches.

"Many in the crowd had seen Jesus call Lazarus form the tomb, raising him from the dead, and they were telling others about it. That was the reason so many went out to meet him- because they had heard about his miraculous sign. Later we learn that the chief priests made plans to put not only Jesus but Lazarus to death "because on account of him many of the Jews were going away and believing in Jesus." John 12:9-11.

What started out as grief truly did result in God being glorified so that many could be saved.

[crayonurchin]

🌲🌿🌾 For Cammie, and/or Solo, depending on how much you want to write!

Cammie first, Solo second!

Cammie:

🌲 What is the kindest thing your OC has ever done for someone? What is the kindest thing someone has ever done for them? On the flip side, what is the worst thing your OC has done to another person?

The kindest thing someone ever did for Cammie is tricky. He's had many things done for him that can't ever really be re-paid. In rps, he's been essentially adopted by both @theamishpirate main boy Sandy as a brother, and @kajeaynart gummy gang as their next lil member. Outside of rps, I think it's honestly meeting Lucas as a little kid. That boy singlehandedly showed Cammie there was life beyond what was decided for him, and coming to meet him got Lucas in a lot of trouble, yet he kept it up for his friend trapped behind trimmed hedges. It's small, but it completely changed Cammie's life. - For the worst? When he ran away from home, he told nobody, including his Nanny Peppermint, who'd been caring for him all his life. She was beyond broken when he vanished, and she died before he could ever reconcile with her. He was a kid at the time, he wasn't trying to be cruel, but he was, and he regrets it constantly.

🌿 What is something true about your OC that they refuse to admit about themselves? Is there any reason to this besides embarassment?

He's cowardly. He tries to run from everything that he can't control and pretends it was never real. He wants to believe he's a grandiose man when he's really a selfish boy at times. He can't admit when he's wrong, because it would mean admitting the people he was oppressed by may have been right.

It's a tricky bag of marbles, but there's truth in it all both directions.

🌾 What would your OC be like if they were evil. Or if they’re already evil what would they be like as the good guy?

An evil Cammie is a very, very manipulative person. He still wants many of the same goals, but rather than abusing himself to mould his essence into what he needs it to be, he moulds everyone else around him, without caring how it affects them. And he's clever, he's always able to use words that never make him the villain but always make him the victim. Anyone speaking out against him would look like a monster, and he's aware of it.

He'd still be in great denial of many things, but the evil Cammie uses that denial to justify his every action and it lets him sleep at night, inside a bus that everyone else got run over by.

And now, Solo!

🌲 What is the kindest thing your OC has ever done for someone? What is the kindest thing someone has ever done for them? On the flip side, what is the worst thing your OC has done to another person?

Once again, RP has different answers! @techmomma and I have done a LOT of rps with Solo and their blorbos, so in order: Ed essentially adopting and helping them get into therapy, survive the reappearance of their abuser, and becoming the grandparent of their son. TB doing much the same but in a very queer and motherly role from a bit more of a distance Mom being their bff that holds them accountable Pet being their bff that lets them feel joy again Outside rp, canonically at 13 years old as a runaway with a brain damaged baby, they knew this was stupidly dangerous. There was a man, Antony, that ran these awful apartment blocks, and he was a mean sonovabitch. That crusty angry man let this random child and infant live in one of his studios for seven months, with rent being 'whatever was doable', though that was never formally agreed. He was a bastard, but he saved their life at an extremely vulnerable state.

Solo's done a lot of bad things. They've let others take the fall when they're the one committing the crime, they've pushed away people who care about them. TECHNICALLY, they tried to murder their abuser by hitting her in the skull with a cast iron pan, but I think that's forgivable in context. Also she didn't die so, who cares. To name a single thing, they probably pickpocketed someone, realised this person definitely needed the money, but still kept it because fuck that other person they've got their own shit to deal with.

🌿 What is something true about your OC that they refuse to admit about themselves? Is there any reason to this besides embarassment?

They refuse to admit they had a horrible childhood. From being a kid of 13 other kids in a cramped trailer, to being sold to a circus that for sure took advantage of them, to be kidnapped by a woman and [REDACTED] for years resulting in the birth of their son, to watching that baby get smothered with a pillow and only managing to revive him after the oxygen deprivation caused a stroke that resulted in cerebral palsy, to being a teenager with an infant on your own running away because you possibly killed the adult that captured you, to developing severe OCD and PTSD as a result of it all. If they admit that it was bad, then they're going to have to deal with it, and they'll have to let go of the few happy memories that they grip like driftwood in a storming ocean.

🌾 What would your OC be like if they were evil. Or if they’re already evil what would they be like as the good guy?

An evil Solo is using their brilliant charisma to work their way into a powerful position of love, adoration and worship. So much so, that it lets them get total revenge on everyone in their life, without facing a single consequence. They can crush anyone who dares to even think about stepping on them or their son, who they basically lock in a box to protect.

Good Solo is super flawed but wants good things. Bad Solo is super flawed and will hurt people to ignore that.

[ghostwood7]

On the evening of Friday, March 5, 1982, Actor, Singer, Comedian John Belushi got together with several close friends (which included Robin Williams and Robert DeNiro) for a dinner party at "On The Rox", the Restaurant above the famous Roxy Nightclub on Sunset Blvd. After dinner, he invited Williams and DeNiro up to his temporary residence at Bungalow #3 at the Chateau Marmont.. It was while there that, at his urging, he was injected with Cocaine and Heroin (a speedball - now, sadly called a Belushi) by Cathy Evelyn Smith (known to some as "Sundown" see the song by Gordon Lightfoot). His friends left while Cathy remained behind with him. After awhile, John went into the bedroom to lie down for a time, so Cathy left.

Later, John's manager tried to call him at the Bungalow and got no answer, so he went to check up on him. When he entered the bungalow and went into the bedroom, John was blue in the face. Brillstein tried unsuccessfully revive John, but it was too late. John Belushi was dead. He called Police, Ambulance and then the Medical Examiner's Office. Not long after their arrival, the News Media arrived bringing with them crowds of people who looked on as John's body was carried out of the hotel in a body bag and placed into a van. It was at that moment that Cathy arrived back on the scene. When she saw what was going on, she turned her car around and fled.

When Dan Aykroyd got the news in NYC that John was dead, he walked all the way to where John had lived with his wife Judith and told her the news. The Funeral for John Belushi was held in Massachusettes near Martha's Vineyard and he was buried in Chilmark. The funeral was attended by Lorraine Newman, Bill Murry and, of course, Dan Aykroyd of SNL. Dan was in full motorcycle gear.

Sometime later, as a Psychic Medium was trying to make contact with the Dearly Departed in a well known part of Hollywood, she alledgedly came in contact with the spirit of John Belushi, who stated to her that he was just as shocked by his death as everyone else was. Why did he not cross over into the Light? There are several theories, one of which was that he had unfinished business in this life.

A woman and her family had to temporarily move out of their home due to renovations so they checked into the Chateau Marmont hotel in Hollywood. Due to problems with the renovation, they ended up staying there for over a year. During this time, late at night they would hear their young son (age 2) alone in his room laughing and giggling to himself. They thought nothing of it as the child is a very outgoing and playful child by nature. When they finally did ask what he was laughing at, the child would only say "the funny man". So one night the woman was talking to her friend about all this and her friend mentioned that John Belushi had died in the Chateau and that there were many reports of his spirit still roaming the grounds. A friend of hers did a quick search online and asked her if they are staying in Bungalow #3. She said yes. Apparently the family had been living in the same bungalow that John had died in. Some initial thoughts were to take pictures of various actors and show them to the child to see if he could recognize "the funny man" but, according to the mother, this never came to fruition. A friend of the boys mother visited the bungalow while they were staying there. It was for a birthday party for the boy and while it was a bit creepy, nothing out of the ordinary was said to have happened. Until later. After a time, the boy began to copmplain that he wasn't sleeping well because of the "funny man" who would awaken the boy and want to play with him and make him laugh. The mother of the child was sitting in bed one night she was sitting in bed one night looking at a book about the Chateau Marmont, and her son wandered in. He was very interested in what she was looking at so she told him it's all about the Chateau as she turned the pages ... there were many photos of various celebs that have stayed there over its many years. So the kid would say, "who is that?" And she said, oh that's an actor who was popular when your grandma was younger ... and that's Robert DeNiro, that's Robin Williams ... etc. Then she turned the page. The child got very excited, pointed and said: "Look Mommy, there's the FUNNY MAN!" He pointed right at the picture of John Belushi.

No, they have never shown him photos or Belushi films; in fact, when we suggested it a long time ago she said "no" so this kid has had no prompting whatsoever. But he sure did recognize his "funny man" right away! Although she hadn't been afraid to go to the bathroom alone at night since she was 8 years old, she was very uncomfortable doing so when they were staying in Bungalow 3. She said she would run in and out quickly, and never made eye contact with the mirror; she just felt as if she was being watched all the time. She went on to say that every time she opened the door to the room/area the kid was sleeping in, to tuck him in at night, she felt what she can only describe as a "whoosh!" #Tragedy, #ChateauMarmont, #Speedball, #JohnBelushi, #Hollywood, #Party, #Ghost, #Paranormal, #LastSupper, #LosAngeles, #SoCal, #Singer, #Actor, #Comedian, #Crime

[parcequecestnotreprojeeeet]

Hi. It’s me, Fanfic Anon #2. I’m so glad everyone has enjoyed the series so far. I’ve been really nervous about it (as I’m sure you could tell by some of my comments). So reading everyone’s lovely comments has meant the world. On a personal note, writing these fics has been such a joyful outlet for me (this has been a very stressful period of my life, not to get too personal, ha ha) and so I’m so glad that something that has meant a lot to me has brought some of that same joy to some of you. I feel like I am repeating myself too, but thank you EMT for all your support and everything you do for this little community you’ve created. ❤️

Couple of quick things. First, in response to the Anon who asked about Laurence’s separation, I have no clue what caused it. That’s why I gave the disclaimer that I wasn’t implying he was the bad guy (sometimes no matter how hard both people try it just doesn’t work out), but rather, I feel like Brigitte and Emmanuel would immediately side with their kids against anyone, no matter what. Hence him threatening to send the armed forces after him. Ha ha.

Second, since there seems to be some popular demand for more (especially from you EMT), I have come up with one final installment with all three of them and Emmanuel. (That will have to wait a bit though, since I have something inspired by the upcoming State Visit I’ll be submitting first). I will include the kids more in pieces as I go (like I said, I have a Christmas story coming up, and it features them) but I probably won’t write anymore focused on them one-on-one like this. Although never say never. If someone has a specific story idea they’d want to see, I’d be happy to try and write it.

So this is Tiphaine. Tiphaine’s is based on a quote attributed to Brigitte about the fact that she and Emmanuel were both in the delivery room when her daughters had their babies. (Again. Don’t know if it’s true, but it’s what inspired this). Hope everyone enjoys this next one.

III. Tiphaine

While his wife and his son-in-law stepped out after the nurse to follow the sweet, innocent newborn as she underwent her first tests, he stayed behind with the exhausted new mother, slowly walking over to gently press a kiss to her forehead.

“You did great. I’m so proud of you,” he told her, his eyes still shining from the tears he isn’t afraid to admit he shed only a few minutes ago when he first set eyes on his beautiful new granddaughter for the first time.

“Thank you, but shouldn’t you be with everyone else? Don’t you want to see them get her footprint, or whatever it is they do?”

“Someone needs to stay with you.”

“I’d be fine,” she protested slightly, the strength of her argument under cut by her yawn.

Raising his eyebrow a little at that he replied, “Sure you would. You’re very good at taking care of yourself. But it doesn’t mean that there aren’t those of us who want to take care of you too.”

“How do you say no to that?” She asked, smiling up at him, fighting the need for sleep until she could see her daughter again.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like I was just hit by a train. But happy. Blissfully happy, I don’t think I have the words to describe it.”

“You want to try?”

“I don’t know. It’s like suddenly there’s this whole extra chamber of my heart that I never knew existed. I never knew I could love someone so much -“

“Being a parent is the most amazing thing,” he replied, a little wistfulness in his voice.

“Do you ever regret it?” She asked, finally putting into words a question that had often lingered at the back of her mind.

“Regret what?”

“Not having children.”

“I do have children,” he answered seriously.

“I meant biological children,” the eye roll almost audible.

“No.” He answered firmly, quickly.

“Really?”

“Do I sometimes think about what it would be to have had a little girl running around that was a perfect mix between your mother and me or a little boy with her smile and my nose? Sure. But as I’ve always said, there’s more than one kind of family. And just because ours isn’t traditional doesn’t mean there is any less love in it. In fact, I would be willing to bet there’s more love in this family than there is in a lot of traditional families. In fact, I can name a few off the top of my head who certainly meet that criteria.

“I have children. Children by love, not by blood, sure, but I know that love is what makes a family. The way that you’re feeling right now? That feeling you’re describing of your heart physically growing two sizes? That’s exactly what I felt the first time you hugged me. In every single way that matters you are my daughter, just like your sister, and just like your brother is my son.”

“You’re going to make me cry.”

“That would be the hormones.”

She let out a soft, wet chuckle at that. “They don’t help, but no, it’s you.” She reached out to grab his hand in hers, squeezing lightly, aware it might be hurting from her iron grip less than an hour earlier, “for what it’s worth, you are my second father.”

“It’s worth an awful lot.”

Neither of them noticed through the little moment they were sharing that their missing partners had now returned, carrying a happy, sleeping bundle with them.

“Someone’s back to see her maman,” Brigitte said softly to pop the bubble, drawing the attention towards them, and gently depositing the little one safely into Tiphaine’s arms. Letting her daughter have a moment with her newborn and her partner, she walked over to Emmanuel, whispering, “are you ok? Things looked pretty intense when we walked in.”

“I’m more than ok, chérie,” he consoled her, pressing a kiss to her cheek and slipping his hand into hers.

“Our baby girl is all grown up,” Brigitte sighed.

“You raised a remarkable woman.”

“We raised,” she corrected softly, squeezing the hand she was holding in emphasis.

He just smiled.

Hellooooo fanfic anon #2! ❤️

You really have nothing to worry about. This series with the kids were simply amazing and I cannot thank you enough ❤️

I feel you. Not the easiest of times for me either but while reading and talking to you guys, it distracts my mind and warms my heart ❤️

Oh thank you! Thank you, for giving us one last piece with Emmanuel and the kids! I will wait the time that it takes and I have no doubts that it will be worth it! 😍

Just how sweet of Emmanuel to stay behind with Tiphaine and waiting to take care of her 🥺🥰

The all conversation about Emmanuel not having his own biological kids, fitted so well in here. It gave me a mixed of feelings (because in reality it makes me feel like that too) but absolutely loved the words you wrote about it. Yes. I think that’s exactly how he feels. He loves them as his own family and they love him back as part of their own family too 🤧🥰😍

Thank you so much! ❤️❤️❤️

[liquidstar]

🍋: What is your OC's most painful memory?

(I do not know any of your ocs though, would like to know any of them more)

OH THIS IS A REALLY GREAT ONE FOR MY OCS ACTUALLY BC MOST OF THEIR POWERS ALSO CAME AT THE SAME TIME <3 im so sorry for the late answer to it though i really do appreciate this 🥺

And on that note some of them are kind of. A lot. So im just going to give some small summaries for a few characters and say what i can (both without giving too much away or getting TOO heavy) anyway

Polaris: The day her village was destroyed, her dad wasn’t around and when faced with the choice to stay and help or run... she ran. though no one would realistically blame her (she was like 17) she still blamed herself. She ended up causing a snowstorm, which didn’t help, and she never turned back. She’s not even entirely sure what it looks like now or who survived, she just… Left. It was easier that way.

Saiph: His is a bit interesting because his power developed before he thought it did. It happened when he was 12 in a rye field, but because of the way it works (he has to be using a weapon of somekind) and so he didnt realize it until half a year later when he actually tried to use one in his first real fight. He thinks his “awakening” moment was less traumatic than everyone else's while still underplaying that he can’t go near an agricultural field without getting a panic attack.

Al: Watching his mom die to protect him, and realizing he was unable to do anything. He ended up awakening his own powers and escaping but like at what cost? He was only 8. Even now, nothing gets under his skin more than the notion of being protected, not because of ego, but because he doesn't see his life as one worth putting another life at risk over. Is that really nobility though? Like father like son, I guess.

Bella: Also watching her mom die but the twist is she did it. Not intentionally, she’s not a violent person by a longshot (even if her mom probably did have it coming). It was just a state of pure fight or flight, an accident. She couldn’t feel anything at all afterwards- or she didn’t want to. The swell of emotions were too complicated for a 14 year old girl. Her number one rule now is to never kill anyone no matter what.

Mira: She had a moment when she was 13 where her world felt like it was about to fall apart, and she chose to play dumb and hope that, with that, the feeling would go away. Even though she knew doing so was wrong. Her cutsie airheaded personality is something she wears down to her core, but on some level its an act she doesn’t even realize she’s putting on to protect that more innocent worldview. Basically she's so good at repression she doesn't even realize she's doing it.

Felis: A train accident. No one survived. Including her. Her power is 9 lives but she didn’t know that yet until she actually died. And dying for the first time at age 5 left a pretty traumatizing mark on her- she didn’t believe she was alive for a full year after. Nowadays she feels like the only time she can really "prove" she's alive is feeling that rush of Almost Dying. So the kitty cat has become a daredevil

[thatonemarvelchick]

Peter - Twenty-Three

When Peter woke up by himself, he couldn’t help the immediate panic that flooded him. Had someone taken Apricity again? Had he slept through it rather than protecting her? Had he messed up, again?

He sat up, spotting a note by the bedside. He could hear voices upstairs, Apricity’s included, and sighed in relief.

Peter, 

Everything’s ok, I’m ok. I left you to sleep because you needed it. Come up to eat when you wake up, Sarah’s making chicken.

-Apricity

He stood, trying his best to straighten his clothes and his hair. When he looked in the mirror that had been sitting under the note, he cringed at the sight of himself. Deep purple bags under his eyes, his hair was greasy and limp and messy. He had a stain on his shirt but he wasn’t sure what it was from because he hadn’t eaten hardly anything in three days. The thought made his stomach growl, and the smell of chicken coming from upstairs was enough to make him dizzy. He was starving, and he wanted to see Apricity. 

Peter made his way into the kitchen, looking around at everyone. Sarah was at the stove, stirring something with Bucky next to her on a separate pot. They were talking in slightly hushed voices, laughing every so often. Sam sat at the kitchen table along with Sarah’s sons, whose names Peter had learned were AJ and Cass. They were shucking corn, and Sam was shooting Bucky dirty glares that the latter pretended to ignore. 

“Where’s Apricity?” Peter’s voice was more hoarse than he’d expected it to be. Everyone turned to look at him at the same time, a range of worry and concern running through all their eyes. Except for Bucky, Bucky just looked cautious. 

“There he is.” Sam stood, walking over and patting Peter on the back. “Dinner’s almost ready, come sit.” He offered. Peter could feel Sam pushing on his back but even in his weakened state he couldn’t be moved. 

“Where’s Apricity?” He asked again, this time his voice more urgent. He swore he’d heard her voice earlier, hadn’t he?

“Don’t worry Peter, I’m alright.” Peter turned to see her walking in, and he felt relief flood his body. He couldn’t help the smile that crept onto his lips when he saw her, an almost automatic reaction. 

She was wearing what he assumed to be a borrowed pair of overalls and a t-shirt, one that showed off her arms. They were thicker now, fuller. Peter could see the muscle swell with every movement she made. She seemed to have grown an inch or two as well, standing at an easy 5”5. She looked healthy, she looked alive. 

Peter had never been more grateful.

“Come on, seriously, you should sit. You look awful.” The playful grin on her lips let Peter know that she was joking, though he knew what she said was true. She walked over, taking his hand gently and leading him to the table to sit down. 

Peter cleared his throat. The thrum of conversation that had once filled the kitchen was now gone, everyone working in near silence. He couldn’t help but think it was because he was there. 

“What’s the matter?” He asked. Everyone was giving him funny looks, like they all felt bad for him. 

Apricity sighed, reaching across the table to put a gentle hand over Peter’s folded ones. “Listen. While you were asleep, we were all talking, and… we think that while I was there, HYDRA infused me with something else. To try and get the serum to take hold. There are things about me that have changed, nothing like what happened to Bucky and Steve. So… we came up with a plan to figure it out for sure.”

Peter sat up and nodded, immediately focused. “Ok, what can I do?” He asked, eyes flickering back and forth between her blue ones. He wasn’t sure if he was going to be able to get used to the blue yet, it was still throwing him for a loop. 

“That’s the thing…” Apricity sighed, looking down at her hands. “We need you to stay here. I’m going to go. Alone.”

Peter shook his head immediately. “What? No, no absolutely not.” He said firmly, leaning forward and taking her hands in his in an urgent manner. “Apricity there’s no way in hell I’m letting you go back there, there’s no way I’m letting them hurt you again. Besides, there’s not going to be anything at the base, it’s been compromised, they would’ve cleared it out already.”

Bucky turned from his place at the stove. “I know. That’s why we’re not going back to the New Orleans base, we’re going to the heart of the operation. New York.” 

Peter swallowed. He hadn’t been back to New York since he’d left for MIT. He hadn’t ever wanted to go back. There were too many people, too many memories. It would be too painful. 

Was that why Apricity wanted him to stay behind?

Peter swallowed and stood, pulling away from Apricity’s touch. He was looking at Bucky now, addressing only him. “You’re going to allow this? You’re going to just let her go in there and get herself killed?” He demanded, shaking his head. “And you blamed me for her getting hurt. You’re encouraging her to waltz right back in there!” He was shouting now. He heard Sarah tell the boys to leave the room and saw Sam standing from the corner of his eyes. 

Bucky did not react. “It wasn’t my choice.” He said lowly. 

“It was mine. And it’s one I’m entitled to make. I have the right to do what needs to be done to learn what I am, and what they did to me. Peter, you have to understand-”

“No, I don’t understand Apricity. My whole job is to keep you safe, and you want to run off to get yourself killed in New York?” Peter had spun to face her now but lowered his voice from a shout. 

“It’s not your job to protect me, Peter, it never was your job. You take on this insane responsibility that no one asked you to take!”

“It’s my job to take it on! With powers like these, powers like mine it’s my responsibility to stick up for the people who can’t stick up for themselves!” His hands were shaking now. He felt lightheaded and nauseous and was reminded that he still hadn’t eaten. 

“I can stick up for myself!” Apricity slammed her fist on the counter, causing it to shatter. Peter was sure by the look on her face that she hadn’t meant to do it, but that it did prove her point. She took a deep, shaky breath. “I’m doing this Peter. Whether you want me to or not. It’s not up to you, or to Bucky, or to anyone else but me.”

Peter swallowed. He felt helpless. “Just-At least let me come with you.” He pleaded. “Apricity please.”

She shook her head, crossing her arms over her chest. “You can come to New York. But in order for my plan to work, I go in alone.” She said simply. Peter could tell by her expression that she wouldn’t be argued with anymore. Maybe she had a semblance of a point, it was her right to know where she came from and what they did to her. But he just didn’t want her to do it alone.

“Fine.” He mumbled after a while of them all staring at him in silence. Bucky seemed to sag, as if he’d been hoping Peter of all people could change her mind. 

 Apricity sighed, nodding in relief. “Thank you.” She mumbled. She looked at him with apologetic eyes but didn’t change her mind. Peter knew she wouldn’t. It was one of the things he'd always most admired about her, her stubborn ways and her strong mind. She was confident enough in her abilities to know when she could handle things, but she was also smart enough to know when she couldn't. As much as Peter hated it, he was going to have to trust her with this. 

“Alright then.” Sam sighed from beside them. “I guess I’ll call up my people… tell them we’re gonna need a jet to New York.”

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