#I'm still not sure if it makes sense!!! tell me if it doesn't!!!
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challenge accepted!♡
synopsis: you're surprised when you find out he has not had his first kiss yet, you're even more surprised when he lets you be the one to change that aka your first kiss with Satoru<3
content: Gojo Satoru x gender neutral reader. Fluff!. Written with the highschool arc/satosugu friendship in mind so you'd be in the same grade together, but you can read it however you wish♡ Detailed descriptions of kissing. Around 650 words. Eng is not my first language. Not entirely proofread, lmk if there are any annoying mistakes♡
He's the strongest around, the Gojo Satoru! He has everything he could want and he doesn't have to prove anything to anyone. He doesn't have to but he does enjoy doing so.
So when you and Suguru teamed up against him, giggling oh so cruelly because here he was spouting out dating advice, saying that Geto will turn into a "grumpy old man" if he continues to reject people's advances, when he hasn't even had his first kiss yet, he knew he had to fix that♡
⁎⁺˳✧༚໒꒱.*
"You don't have much of a say seeing as you haven't kissed, let alone dated anyone yet, Satoru.~" Suguru replies, voice still as gentle as always even when he's dealing with his best friend's nonsense.
You're not entirely sure why your heart skipped a beat at the revelation. Sure it's unexpected given Gojo's flirty nature and good looks, but it's igniting a feeling of something almost hopeful in your heart....you don't like him that, not at all, right? So why is the image of him pulling you in by your waist and dipping down to lock his lips against yours fogging over your mind?
You've gone quiet for a bit as you hoped to make sense of what you're feeling, not unperceived by your friends sitting next to you
"Y/n?" They speak at the same time. You miss the shared glance of concern
You're glad you can blame the afternoon sun for the sudden spark of warmth surging through your body.
"Sorry, yeah, I'm here" you reply a bit clumsily as you make the mistake of looking back at him and the words almost get stuck in your throat. he looks ridiculously handsome with the way his head is slightly tilted, enough to look at you over his glasses, blue eyes shining even brighter in the sunlight, and something as simple as that really shouldn't be as attractive as it is.
Just for a split second you see his eyes soften as he lets his gaze trace of your features before he nudges his glasses back in place and continues-
"You're supposed to back me up, you know?? Tell him!"
"There's nothing wrong with not having had your first kiss yet, Suguru" you say sweetly. Gojo visibly relaxes and that stupid infamous smirk forms on his lips as he nods along with your words. you stifle back a laugh as you continue, "Unless you're Gojo Satoru"
The flail of his arms is entirely dramatic and entirely in character. It's not helping that you can hear the snickering of Suguru beside him too.
He's quiet for a moment as he regains his composure, one of his arms now draped behind you along the bench. He takes his glasses off and hangs them on the collar of his shirt.
"Alright"
.....
"Alright?"
Your body registers it before your brain does, heart fluttering in your chest, a hitch in your breath as he leans in. He's close, but he doesn't close the gap just yet. You can feel his breath fanning over your cheeks and his intoxicatingly good, probably extremely expensive cologne envelops the rest of your senses, makes you a little dizzy as all you see, hear, and feel is him but he allows you enough space to back away if this is not what you desire.
Perhaps your heart already knew what you're mind was just trying to catch up to. You have fallen in love. Fallen in love with Satoru of all people.
You're sure that at least a minute has passed since he leaned in but he doesn't falter and patiently waits until you do finally give him the smallest of nods and then it's over for you, you've fallen too deep now and you cannot and do not want to come back from this, from him.
the kiss is sweet, almost too sweet if you didn't have a sweet tooth that could battle Satoru's. And for a first kiss it's quite heavy, a little deeper and longer than you expected and it continues to linger warmly on your lips when he finally pulls away, face a little flushed, eyes bright, and smirking like he just won the lottery
"Now, listen, Suguru" he begins but you tune it out. Too focused on trying to calm the racing of your heart, too enamoured with the memory of his lips on yours
Gojo doesn't remove his arm from around your shoulder but his other hand has intertwined with yours as he draws heart shapes on the back of your hand with his thumb, silently letting you know this was more than him just trying to prove something, silently letting you know, he'd be yours if you'll have him♡
Thank you for reading, angels!<3
I haven't written for jjk in such a long time😩 but I started season 2 and I want them to be HAPPY
#gojo fluff#gojo satoru x reader#jjk x gender neutral reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x gender neutral reader#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo x reader#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#gojo x y/n#gojo x you#jjk fic#jjk fluff
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I thought I would have so much to say about the car accident scene. And while I could go on for a while on why it's everything I've ever wanted from a scene of this nature and why it's a beautifully acted cinematic piece, I do think the beauty of the scene lies so much in silence. Their expressions are do a fantastic job to express their emotional state so I'm just gonna call attention to a few things I won't get over anytime soon.
Imagine being Haein and seeing your husband wrecking a car window in hysteria. Imagine seeing disbelief on his face when he sees you and walks towards you. Imagine watching him unable to breathe properly (sound on and high for this scene). Imagine seeing life flood into him as soon as you touch him.
Jiwon plays such an important part here. Because Haein has NEVER seen Hyunwoo like this. He's a pretty calm nice, non-violent guy. She knows him to like mostly everyone and he rarely gets angry - he's pretty composed. But then what is this look of complete shattered pain on his face? With a mix of disbelief, bearing the heaviest heart on the planet? He's unrecognisable to her. She can't make sense of any of his actions. She's in utter shock hearing how hardly any air is making it's way into his lungs.
In his eyes is a look of crazed wilderness just tamed. He's out of his sense. Completely lost in the events that have just passed. Not believing that he can breathe. That it's okay. All is well in the world for now. She's unscathed.
'What's going on? Calm down.'
The way she asks him to calm down - touching his face - cause she just doesn't know what in the world could send him in such a frenzy to forget himself. Her asking him to calm down here is everything to me. She's really just saying I'm here okay. Calm down. Calm down, you can breathe. Tell me what happened and I can fix it.
'Even still, Are you crazy? How could you break the window with your bare hands? Look at this!'
I know it probably didn't register to him at that point. But he's hearing her being worried for him again when he thought her lost forever. Wouldn't that sound like music to his ears.
And her...god she's so worried for him. She's never seen him like this. She doesn't know what happened to make him like this. One she sees his absolutely broken bloody hand. Two she's seeing her husband absolutely crushed. She's so confused.
That is until his words hit her like a truck. I think she had an idea that he did it to save her but she didn't know he did it because he thought her dead. And that makes all the difference for her.
Also I thought it was very interesting to keep showing his injured hand clenching. I think it was a way to show how the physical pain still didn't hold a candle to his emotional turmoil. He CLENCHES that broken hand multiple times. I can't even begin to think when he actively registered the pain.
The need for constant touch to reaffirm that she indeed is there. The sitting down. The head on her hand. The heavy breathing. *Chef's kiss*
I love women comforting the man they love when he's broken. Gah! That hand on his face and hug. Her embracing him. Letting him cry all he wants. Giving him the reaffirmation he needs by placing her self as close to him as possible. Trying to tame and override his sense. The hand on the nape of his neck. The hand caressing his hair lovingly. And good god, the RINGS.
Also notice his breathing on her shoulder. He's trying to calm himself. Telling himself she's here. Hearing her say it's alright. Everything will be alright.
I'm sure they stay like this until the ambulance comes and asks them if they're hurt. Only then Haein must've gently tore him apart from her (hand on his face again ofcourse) and convinced/guided him to finally get treatment. I can just Imagine Hyunwoo completely dishevelled going, 'Huh *sniffs*......oh.......Right, my hand' and that's when the pain hits him.
Special mention to the hospital conversation when Haein asks him 'Will you sob like this if I die?' and he says truthfully, bashfully, embarrassed but without missing a beat 'Ofcourse.' He's hiding behind nothing. He truly meant to give up on himself after her.
For me this is also the night Haein starts to write her diary. Hyunwoo must've been sound asleep, amped up on painkillers and she must've had so much time to sit and admire him and write.
Gif credits: @wolha and @seawherethesunsets
#he cries like such a child and its heart aching#I love/hate how I didn't think I'd write much but thsi post is still so long#this scene satisfies the angsty writer in me#it's beautifully done#such gems acting!#there are no gifs of Haein fussing over him#which is sad#queen of tears#baek hyun woo#hong hae in#kim soo hyun#kim ji won#baekhong
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hi there !! i hope you're having a great day so far ^^
i wanted to request the three musketeers (katsuki, izuku, shoto) that give prince/ss treatment to reader ! like the reader is just so tooth-rotting sweet that the boys can't help but treat reader that way ฅʕ◍·̀·́◍ʔฅ
you are so free to ignore this if its not up to your taste ^^ thank you in advance !! 💌🍰
girl you're crazy if you think this isn't up to my taste, you literally blessed me with this! Anyways I hope you have fun reading, enjoy!
𝗣𝗮𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: Todoroki, Bakugou, Midoriya, fem!reader
𝗪𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: headcanon, fluff!
Don't repost!
The one thing we all agree on.
He'll cook for you.
No one argues with this; he's literally your personal chef.
He'll always make sure you eat well, whether you're a big eater or not.
This damn guy will literally stuff your stomach and cook for you anytime.
You can wake him up even at 2 a.m., and he won't mind, like:
"Hey, Katsu... I'm feeling kinda hungry... so-"
"Shut up, I already know."
And boom, he'll get up to cook a delicious meal for you and make sure you go to sleep feeling full.
He also loves styling your hair, no matter the type.
Straight, wavy, curly, it doesn't matter.
Just tell him how you want your hair, and he'll do it professionally.
He does most of the chores for you, like cooking, washing dishes, doing laundry, etc.
He absolutely hates seeing you tired or exhausted; he sees himself strong enough to do everything.
"You weren't created for exhaustion, not even your beautiful ass deserves to be tired from sitting."
Another reason he always holds you in his arms when you're alone together.
He always brings snacks for you at school.
At the end of each class, he turns around to give you candy or chocolate to keep you energized.
(He completely refuses to admit he brought them for you, always saying he got them by chance.)
When you're sitting in the dorm with others, he lets you rest your head on his shoulder if you're tired.
He absolutely doesn't let you go downstairs; he always carries you bridal style while going down while you're in his arms.
His excuse is that you're too foolish and will definitely trip and fall and hurt yourself.
(He loves you dearly and worries about you like crazy.)
Did I mention he's your guard dog?
Wherever you are, he walks behind you and gives death glares to anyone who dares to stare at you.
He also makes sure every day that he's the first person to say good morning or goodnight to you, whether in person or through messages.
He's not a big person with words, but he makes sure to say "I love you" enough times because he knows it makes you happy.
Believe me, he's just there for your happiness (I would die for this man).
This boy is the epitome of sweetness.
He's not just a green flag, he's the whole forest.
One thing I'm sure of is that he'll take notes for you during classes.
Even if you've already taken your own notes, he doesn't mind.
He still brings your notebooks and edits your notes to make them look like his own.
If you ask him why he does this, he simply replies:
"Just to ensure our information is the same so we don't have any problems when we study together."
He just loves being the reason behind your intellectual growth and knowing that he's helping you.
Every night, literally every night, he braids your hair.
Because he simply read that braiding hair before bed helps keep it healthy.
(He loves touching your hair and smelling its scent.)
Speaking of nighttime, he takes you for walks at night when everyone else is asleep and lies on the grass to watch the sky just because you told him you love seeing the stars.
He's literally the kind of gentleman who lays his jacket over a puddle of water for you to walk on so you don't get wet.
He has a sixth sense about you, so for example, whenever something bad happens to you, he's already there to fix it.
He's 100% ready to defend you against anyone and doesn't feel embarrassed to stand up to them either.
He carries your bag for you on the way to school and back to the dorm, insisting on it even when you say it's okay.
He loves sharing his food with you; he always does.
No matter what it is, he always makes sure you take at least a bite of it.
"I don't taste the food's flavor until I share it with you."
He always keeps your hands intertwined and makes sure you're close to him, especially in crowds.
Every day, he makes sure to kiss you on the cheek and tell you how perfect you are, how lucky he is to have you, and how much he loves you.
This guy is literally like a character from books.
He has a top-notch degree in princess treatment.
He buys you anything you want, no matter what.
Even if it's a car plated with gold, he'll always fulfill your desires.
He flirts with you, but in poetic ways.
For example, he reads a love quote or a poem and makes sure to dedicate it to you.
Either he writes it for you on a paper and places it on your desk in your room before you wake up, or he whispers it in your ear just to drive you crazy.
He loves seeing you shy and flustered.
He also buys you books, a lot of them.
The reason for that is your talk about a story or a novel.
Be sure that by tomorrow he'll present you with the entire book series along with a red rose.
"Shoto! You didn't have to do that!"
"If my girl desires something, she gets it."
(Help me... I'm melting while writing this)
He lets you do anything to him literally.
Braiding his hair, putting makeup on him, dressing him up as you wish... etc.
Just say the word, and he's like, "Yes, ma'am"
(Once you put your daily makeup on him, and literally you cried because he looked more beautiful than you by miles.)
This man is literally carrying your bags when he takes you shopping.
And he doesn't complain; it gives him a sense that he's your strong man.
He also allows you to try makeup on the back of his hand.
(He's as pale as hell.)
He carries you on his back if you feel tired from walking.
Or in other words, if he feels it, which means he always carries you on his back.
So you won't tire from something as silly as walking.
He knows that everyone is looking at both of you, but does he care? Of course not.
(I feel like he's read "The Art of Indifference" at least 100 times.)
He's the kind of guy who allows you to wear anything you want.
You might come to him not sure about your clothes, and he simply shrugs in indifference.
"Wear whatever you want; I can fight."
(But not too revealing because you won't get away with it.)
One of his greatest features is that he uses his quirk to either warm you up or cool you down according to the weather.
He always gives you his jacket even without you asking because he knows that his scent calms you down and also ensures that you're warm.
Like the others, he makes sure you eat well and goes crazy if he knows you haven't.
(I think this is an Asian thing...)
This might seem gross, but on the contrary, it's not the case for him, but he allows you to spit out the food you didn't like on his hand.
He tells you to do it in the most poetic expression ever.
He hugs you a lot, first because he loves being close to you and secondly to stick his scent to you, so people can smell you and know that you're his
(he has a special scent so..)
(I've written a lot for him, I know, and I'm sorry, but I love him so much that I couldn't stop!!)
I hope you had fun reading! Please feel free to request more whenever you like!
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐧𝐝.
#bakugou katsuki#bakugou x reader#bnha#boku no hero academia#mha#my hero academia#shouto todoroki#todoroki x reader#fanfic#shoto x reader#izuku x reader#izuku midoriya#idk#todoroki x reader headcanons#bakugou headcanons#bakugou x reader headcanons#izuku x reader headcanons#princess treatment
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sleeping patterns – cn34
nights filled with endless crying and screaming take a toll on clement's confidence.
genre: fluff, slight comfort/angst ig
pairing: young dad!clem x young mom!reader
warnings: none
author’s note: aaaaaaaaaaa im so soft for clem and ive had such an insane baby fever recently. i miss him sm :(( he would be such a good dad, i just know it
f2/f3 masterlist
the big, red numbers of your electric clock on the bedside table tell you it's only 3am, a frustrated huff passing through your lips when your eyes slowly open. it takes a while for you to realize what's waking you up – but then it makes so much sense.
the soft cries on the other side of the baby monitor sting like a knife in your heart, and you're fully awake in a matter of seconds. you're just about to push yourself up to a sitting position when the bed dips next to you. after turning around, you find your boyfriend already jumping out of bed. "i'll get her."
"are you sure?" you ask, voice creaky after several hours of not speaking.
clement nods, leaning down to press a kiss to your temple. "go back to sleep," he hums, and just like that, he has waddled through the door to your nursery.
the sad truth is that your little one hasn't been progressing with her sleep as much as she should. she had a period of almost sleeping through the nights about a month ago, but then you were hit with the four-month regression. she's almost five months old now, and still, you have issues with sudden wakeups in the middle of the night. as much as you adore every second you get to spend with her, you just wish you could get one full night of sleep sometime.
you know you won't be able to fall asleep until clement is back, you never can. but it's not because you're worried; in fact, there's not a single piece of concern on your mind over it. you know that he has mastered the cradling-cooing-bouncing sequence by now. and sure enough, your daughter's cries grow lighter and lighter, until the only sound that can be heard from the monitor is the ones of soft steps and hushed whispers.
but something feels off. even when the apartment is completely silent, clement doesn't come back to bed.
it's very strange. he fell asleep once in the rocking chair in the nursery, but complained about his back aching for a week afterwards and promised that he would never put himself through that again.
the moonlight peeking through the poorly shut blinds in the nursery casts a shadow across clement's profile when you step inside. despite how dark it is, you can see every little toy on the floor and every detail of the little race car-themed mobile that dangles above the crib clearly. you're way too used to being in here at night.
clement has put your daughter back down into her crib by now, and his hands are wrapped around the railing as he leans over it, looking down at her. he doesn't react when you come closer, and he doesn't move a muscle even when you place your hand on his shoulder. it's easy to understand that something is bothering him.
"what's on your mind?"
he turns to you and lets out a tiny exhale, as if it was a struggle for him to snap himself out of his thoughts. he shakes his head. "it's nothing."
"tell me," you press, giving his shoulder a soft squeeze.
"well, i…" he squeezes his eyes shut. "i'm kind of freaking out. it's been over four months, and… i still haven't adjusted."
"honey," you start, your hand moving to the back of his neck. "where is this coming from? so suddenly?"
"i don't know," he says with a sigh. "you've seen me lately, i've barely been able to fall asleep at all."
he opens his eyes again and gazes down into the crib, eyes softening once they land on the little bundle of love resting so peacefully. he follows the way her chest rises with her breaths, her slightly pouting lips, her tiny fists that are wrapped around her blankie.
"it feels like i'm the only one who's struggling. you're such a natural, you're doing so much better with her, while i just feel… hopeless."
you don't want to interrupt him – clement doesn't often speak about his deeper feelings, so now that he's finally going, you don't wish to stop his flow – but you have to say something. "i think you're doing really well."
"you actually think so?" he asks. though his gaze doesn't move an inch, he can still see you nodding in the corner of his eye. he takes a deep breath. "i've heard people say that new fathers go through things… that it takes time, that it takes patience- and i've tried to be patient, i really have. but…"
he finally looks at you, and his heart breaks slightly at the sight of your uneasy expression, the tension in your eyebrows and your worried eyes. he hates being the one to make you feel like this.
"i just can't get rid of this constant anxiety. it feels like i'm always stressing over something. over you, over her, over everything."
you relate to every word he says. being this young, you feel like you're stumbling through darkness most of the time, not knowing what to do. it's frankly a guessing game, with mostly correct guesses mixed with some bad ones, since neither of you have any prior parenting experiences. even though he may not see it or know it, you're going through the same things as him.
no one had expected for you to get pregnant at this age, and no one – not even the two of you – had expected for you and clement to actually keep the baby. and sometimes, way more often than you'd thought before, your youth and inexperience has been catching up with you.
it's hard, but at least you have each other.
you step closer, draping your arms around his shoulders in an instant. "it's alright," you whisper into the skin of his neck, your nose filling with that scent that's just so him, and you finally relax a bit. his hands find your waist, fingers caressing your sides through the flimsy material of your nightgown. "it's okay to feel like this. i do, too. i think… all new parents must feel it." you give his neck a soft kiss. "but they all get through it, don't they? and so will we."
he stays silent for a while before he nods slowly. "it's all just so… intimidating. i don't want to mess anything up."
"and you won't." you pull away slightly to look into his eyes. "i trust you fully, and-"
you're interrupted mid-sentence, the sound of your daughter stirring in her crib taking clement's attention away from you as he glances towards her. you see his adam's apple bob as she begins to whine, her fists clenching and face scrunching up. "should- can i take her?" he asks tentatively, hands trembling slightly on your sides.
you nod not even a second later, stepping out of his embrace to give him no excuse to hold back. "go for it."
clement had bought every parenting guidebook he could find, and read every website with tips for new parents on the entire internet – and yet, nothing had prepared him for this nervousness that he's experiencing so often. he knew it wouldn't be smooth sailing all the way, but he hadn't expected to feel this uncertain in everything he does. even in the way that he picks his daughter out of her crib, he feels anxious that he's doing something wrong.
however, the second she feels her father's presence, it's far from the story that his anxiety has been making up for him. she lets out one last soft cry before, as if out of habit, nuzzling her face into his skin.
while clement has been struggling this whole time, you can't help but notice that she settles easily into his arms. like she belongs there; like she knows that he'll take care of her.
because he always does.
"see?" you say, letting a finger run along the curve of her cheek as you smile down at her. "that's not so bad, is it? you're doing so well."
considering all the difficulties he's faced, hearing these kind words of appreciation from you gives him comfort in a way that few other feelings can compare to. his gaze is still glued to your daughter, the precious little baby that is his entire world. well, half of his world – the other half is standing right next to him. "i love her, you know," he says softly. "even if she doesn't know it yet, i do. so much."
"i think she knows," you answer, watching as your boyfriend cradles her against his bare chest. he has loved the skin-on-skin contact since day one, and you're sure she does, too; her gentle babbling is always a sure sign that she's completely content. you can't hold back from smiling. "and she loves you just as much."
"sometimes i just can't believe that she's ours. that we made her." his eyes meet yours, nothing but pure love in them. "isn't it strange?"
"strange that we've done something good for once?"
he answers your tease by sticking out his tongue, nudging your shoulder with his, though gently enough to not bother the little one in his arms.
"come on, let's go back to bed," you say, leaning in to press your lips gently to the back of her head. "one night of co-sleeping can't be the entire world, can it?"
#f1#f2#formula 1#formula one#formula two#formula 2#elms#european le mans series#clement novalak#fluff#angst#x reader#x you#x yn#x y/n#imagine#scenario#fanfic#fic#romance
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Newest HB Short
This short had some cute and fun moments with Millie and Sallie Mae. I liked the outfit Sallie wore throughout most of it and I'm glad she got some depth. While I'm glad these characters got some more screentime, I can't help but still feel disappointed as the short doesn't give us much insight to Millie as a main character.
In the short, Sallie expressed how Millie doesn't visit home that often and thinks Millie may be ashamed to have come from Wrath. My thing is that this doesn't tie into information already established about Millie.
You would think her parents would've made similar remarks, like Sallie, about her not visiting home in the Harvest Moon episode.
Sallie also said she was left in charge of the family when Millie left but we never seen Millie have any meaningful interactions with her brothers to get a sense of what their dynamic is like.
We also don't learn anything about why Millie left Wrath in the first place. Millie just only apologized to Sallie and said she'll try to visit more.
Did she leave because she met Chaz and maybe he convinced her to move to Pride?
Did she leave because of her validation issues? Like she didn't feel appreciated by her family enough (and for some reason she didn't tell her sister this).
Small Nitpicks
Sallie took a bus from Wrath to Pride ring. What happened to the elevator as the means to travel to different rings?
Sallie made no mention of Looloo Land. You know, the place where Millie said she and her family used to go in the past. Honestly, Sallie gave off the vibes that she hasn't been anywhere else besides Wrath.
The sibling rivalry Viv mentioned in her Millie thread doesn't appear true at all. Sure, they play fight roughly and compete when playing games but that seems more of a result of them being born and raised in Wrath. If they were really sibling rivals, I don't think they would have a close bond as they do now.
Another thing about Viv's Millie thread; she listed off things about Millie, but she never mentioned anything about her validation issues or wanting to feel important. Viv has no problem explaining her characters outside the shows, like she did with Alastor. This convinced me that she was more likely making stuff up about Millie at the time.
Conclusion
This was a fun and enjoyable short. However, I'm not convinced the writers have a clear idea or direction for Millie's character that's coherent. It seems they add stuff along the way. I understand Morgana wrote this short alone, but it doesn't seem like she was given enough information about Mille to make sure things were consistent. I guess we'll see what happen in the future.
#vivziepop critical#vivziepop criticism#spindlehorse critical#helluva boss critical#helluva boss critique#helluva boss criticism#spindlehorse criticism
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MISLEADIN' ME SERIES: CHAPTER ELEVEN
A RUNAWAY AND A DEADMAN
⊳ Gojo Satoru x f!reader
series masterlist
Genre: angst, fluff, sci-fi, cosmology.
Words count: ~14k
⊲ previous
Under the concentrated puffing on the left, you tried to chop the chocolate bar as small as possible. Over the past couple of hours, you and Megumi have identified a not perfect, but decent recipe for chocolate muffins through trial and error. The boy slowly and methodically stirred the resulting dough with a whisk, trying to get rid of any lumps. When you reached for the bowl to taste the mixture for sugar, you received a resounding slap on the hand. You rolled your eyes and continued chopping the chocolate, trying to turn it to dust.
"Maybe we shouldn't be doing this," muttered Megumi absentmindedly, watching the batter drip off the whisk.
You had to strain your ears to hear what he was mumbling to himself. "What if ya add more flour?" you asked uncertainly, looking at the too-liquid consistency.
"I'm not talking about muffins," Megumi snapped. A chill immediately spread down his back, making the boy shiver – it was all the fault of the sharp sound of a knife sticking into a cutting board. With a sideways glance, Megumi caught sight of you leaning against the kitchen counter, arms crossed over your chest and staring at him. "Sorry."
"If it's not the muffins, then what is it?" you asked, peering into the profile of the frowning face.
"I...," he began, hesitating. "I'm not sure if we should put up with her anymore."
"Has your love gone away, too?"
Megumi looked up sharply, and you could see the anxiety spreading across his young face. "Has it gone away for her?"
"How would I know?" you shrugged dryly. "Ya both sitting silently in your corners and ya seem to be hoping that it'll work itself out there somehow," Megumi took a whisk out of the bowl and pointed a finger at it meaningfully. You chuckled quietly. "Dany always loved chocolate muffins. Kudos for volunteering," you jokingly gave a bow of your head. "Still, that doesn't explain your hesitation."
"Well...," the boy started stirring the dough slowly again as if it was a ritual that brought tranquility. "It's just... Does it make sense?" asked Megumi weakly, and you only hummed thoughtfully. "In the end, it doesn't matter how many friends and loved ones we have. We die alone anyway," the fridge started humming twice as loud, except it was a distortion of Megumi's hearing. He could even hear his own heartbeat, annoying and fast, all from you being silent. He coughed and glimpsed at you, making sure you were still standing next to him. "You don't think so?"
"To be honest, I, uh... I hadn't thought about that at all," you chuckled nervously. "I'm still a little confused... Ya mean that when ya die ya'll have no one around ya, or vice versa, that despite being surrounded by loving people, ya'll go into oblivion alone?"
"Is there a difference?" he asked warily, almost fearfully.
"Yeah, ya right, I guess. There's not much difference," you sighed, scratching your forehead. "Look, Megumi, if ya wanna live your whole life in some small house in the middle of nowhere alone that's fine. If ya wanna live your life surrounded by a bunch of friends that's fine. If ya wanna live your life with only one person that's fine too, but it's all okay only as long as it's your personal choice.
"Fear rarely leaves a choice," Megumi doubted quietly, dumping your previously chopped chocolate off the board into a bowl.
"That's what I'm telling ya," you said, grabbing the cutting board and putting it in the sink. "Ya'll probably have a brick fall on your head tomorrow, and ya'll be lying in a dark alley all dead and alone," even though the sound of water running and a washcloth rubbing against wood was beginning to echo through the kitchen, Megumi could hear you clearly. "Scared to go outside now?" slyly glancing at the boy and seeing him shake his head in the negative, you smirked contentedly. "Ya can be afraid, but don't let something so ephemeral stop ya from living your life the way ya want to. It'll be fun if at the very end all ya have time to think about is how stupid ya were, not that ya're alone. If ya make it at all, of course," you scrubbed the board clean, but Megumi remained silent. Your patience was wearing thin. You needed either confirmation or persuasion. "So," you chuckled snidely. "What are we deciding? No, no, wait, don't say anything!" you turned to him and waved your hands, stopping him. "Ya better do. I'm offering you a choice - either ya keep making muffins or ya can go cry in your room. I'll understand either way."
Megumi gave you a glare that glinted angrily in the light of the kitchen garland. "You remind me of someone," he hissed, and continued kneading the chocolate into the dough with double zeal.
You watched his eagerness with satisfaction. "That's what I thought. Okay, philosophical musings are all well and good, but let's have a little talk about training and a plan of action," Megumi glowed when you said that. As much as he could, but you hadn't even noticed the change. "I think it's time for ya to learn regeneration."
"Wouldn't it be better to start with rel-"
He didn't get a chance to speak, for you pressed your palm sharply against his mouth. "Nah-uh," you said slowly, shaking your head and looking into his rounded eyes. You didn't immediately realize that you were clutching his shoulder tightly with your other hand. "Ugh," you exhaled, pulling your hands away from him. "For now, forget that word, do ya understand?" you made a grabbing motion with your palm as if taking the word from his vocabulary. Megumi, pressing his lips tightly together for a second, nodded. "Ya'll be relocate with me anyway, so that's not really important at first times, but the thing that will save your life more than once is running and regeneration. But mostly running, of course," you pointed out.
"I'm used to standing to the last man," Megumi objected sullenly.
"Ya'll wean," you chirped carelessly. "We're not known for heroics."
"And what the hell do I need this training for then?" blurted Megumi in the way he usually did - though his appearance remained calm, steel rang in his voice. "To run away like a coward?"
"So ya won't die," you parried. "How many people will ya save by being in the grave?"
"Will I save many by running away?" he persisted.
"At least ya'll stay alive and learn your lesson," you reasoned, spreading your arms out to the sides. "And if ya learn it right, ya'll be stronger."
"At the cost of the lives of the people I left behind?" Megumi continued to snarl.
"Exactly," you snapped, and Megumi bit his lip without expecting it himself. He was used to you and your perpetually calm and cheerful tone, and the way it shifted at the snap made the hairs on the back of his neck stir. "Ya volunteered, and now ya're my apprentice. I don't care if ya want it or not, but you will obey me now," you spoke coldly and distinctly. Relaxing your clenched fists, you looked at Megumi. His body was still the same size, but it looked like he was shrinking. Taking a mug from the shelf, you started brewing coffee. "The rest of the voidrunners will start evacuating in a couple weeks, we will join them a little later," you announced, softening your tone. "Ya want coffee?"
"Tea."
"Okay," you said, pulling out a second mug.
Megumi didn't give up trying to protest. "I can start along with them-"
"Ya can't," you replied dryly. "Ya'll only go on raids with me."
"Do you distrust others that much?" the boy asked, raising his eyebrows skeptically.
You shrugged idly. "It just makes me feel better."
"Isn't it the same thing?"
Letting his words pass your ears, you continued your admonition. "When we're in the void, just drop the bags of supplies and run to the nearest rift. If anything goes wrong and we get separated, don't trust anyone, don't look at anyone, don't talk to anyone," you sighed restlessly, pouring coffee into one mug and putting a tea bag in the other. "Ya'll never guess who's standing in front of ya there," you added quietly.
"Don't you...," Megumi's voice came up, hesitating. "Don't you know how to tell the difference?"
You, with a fussy chuckle, began pouring boiling water into cups. "No, none of the hunters have built-in internal radar, only experience. And experience, as it goes, comes with the years."
"Too long," grumbled Megumi gloomily. "We don't have that much time."
You set the mug of freshly brewed tea next to him. "Ya wanted it all at once?" you teased him, smiling. "Ya gotta pay tribute to dioreacts. They've spent thousands of years learning how to act like humans. They learned not only how to stir tea or blink, but how to perceive our world in general," you circled the space with your hands for extra convincing. "The first dioreact didn't know that all the electromagnetic waves around them were just color to humans because that's exactly our interpretation of electromagnetic waves, and there is no color anywhere in the universe outside of the human brain. Perhaps the dioreacts even now don't know what color is, but just... Uh, I dunno, adjusted? Maybe they can see wavelengths and have memorized that that wave over there is green and that one over there is grayish brown. Hunters used to catch them at it a lot, but the more time the dioreacts spend among us, the more they learn about our perception."
"What else?" inquired Megumi impatiently. Your hand with the cup of coffee froze at your lips, and you stared at the boy warily. "Forewarned is forearmed, no?" he quipped.
You tapped your fingernail on the cup thoughtfully. "Frank used to tell me that hunters used to catch dioreacts at the 'where ya from?' question. The poor things would just freeze in place with their mouths open, unable to say anything. Probably because humans don't have a single word to describe their homelands because we can't have that knowledge," you sighed sadly without realizing it. "Now the dioreacts have learned, and if you ask, they'll tell ya about all the places on Earth they've been, and they'll tell you their family tree too. I'm exaggerating," you added, noticing Megumi squinting at you incredulously. "But ya," you pointed a finger at the boy. "Don't ya dare pry into anyone in the void with questions. If it's a demon, it'll know right away what ya're up to, so it'll either run away immediately or kill ya," you slid an assessing glance at the boy. "In your case, it's more likely the latter. No offense."
You nonchalantly continued sipping your coffee, hoping it didn't hurt him too much. It didn't occur to you that Megumi had gone through similar words and phrases many times before and he hardly paid attention to yours. Why did it seem to him right now that a previously unsuccessfully nurtured stimulus was faintly stirring inside him, though? "Y/N?" hesitantly Megumi turned to you.
"Hmm?" you hummed detachedly.
"Is Gojo okay with that? Well, that you're training me."
"Yeah," you sighed, setting the empty mug back in the sink. "He grumbled a little, though... But he couldn't just throw ya into the basement with chains with a shout 'I won't let anyone have you'."
"Well, actually he could," Megumi muttered, wrinkling his nose squeamishly.
"But he didn't," you quipped.
"Yeah, he didn't," the boy agreed with you. "Thank you for that."
"I had nothing to do with it."
"That's what you think," the unfamiliar slyness in his voice sent shivers down your spine. "I talked to others, so... You know, we've decided that if we ever move out, you can keep him."
"Thanks," you snickered, and Megumi was already grinning openly. "Go ahead and make the muffins. When ya're done, I'll go over to Dany's and then we'll practice tonight."
Megumi turned sharply toward you. "What?" he blurted out grumpily. "What do you mean 'I'll go over to Dany's'? What about me? Is this some kinda joke to you?" glaring angrily at you, he pointed at his clothes that were almost completely covered in chocolate mixture.
"Ya're not much of a diplomat," you teased, making a face at him. "I gotta feeling her out first, and then ya can talk without me. Now let's get to work," you nodded toward the bowl of dough.
You stood under the boy's angry gaze for a few more seconds before he went back to making muffins in silence. It was a good thing Megumi was silent, because if he'd said a word, the laughter you were carefully suppressing would have burst out.
It was a cute yet funny picture of Danielle weeding in the afternoon sun. The girl kept straightening the straw hat that had fallen off her head with her hands smeared in the ground – almost the same color as her bright sparkling hair.
You stood outside the backyard entrance, hesitant to open the wooden gate. Your hand clutched the package of homemade muffins - small but tasty - tighter to your chest, and the thought slipped into your head that if this treat won't help you, nothing would.
You opened the wicket with a deep breath, and Danielle reacted instantly, raising her head. Her hat flew off her head, and the girl, trying to steady it once again, stiffened in surprise. The hoe Dany was holding in her other hand fell to the ground along with the hat.
"Hey there, bun," you said, waving awkwardly at Danielle. "Before ya chase me away, I brought something in my defense," you informed jokingly, covering yourself with the treat package.
Maybe it was the physical exertion, but you wanted to believe that she did feel better. You wanted to squeeze her ruddy cheeks because in addition to the flushed red color, they had gotten a little chubbier. "Hey," you missed that kind tone and the way she was striding toward you to meet you. "I hope it's something edible," she whimpered, wrapping her arms around your shoulders.
Relief spread through your body as Danielle held out her arms to you. You gladly hugged her in return. "Like I don't know ya," you whispered into her hair and heard a soft giggle. "Let's sit down," you suggested and pulled Dany by the arm toward the garden bench that stood neatly against the wall of the house. Barely dragging her feet, Danielle made her way over to the bench, leaning her limp body against the wall. You sat down next to her and put the package on her lap, but she didn't move, half lying there with her eyelids closed. "Frank forced ya into?" you asked sympathetically.
"Yeah," Dany exhaled exhaustedly. "But there's an upside to it!" she braved it cheekily, as much as her strength allowed. "While ya're doing all this shit, all ya can think about is that ya can't wait for it to be over," Danielle said before she could finish - a laugh forming on her lips, and you chuckled in unison with her tired but still gleeful laughter as you admired her.
"He forced me too until I was about twelve," you smirked.
"How did ya get to escape this plantation?" inquired Danielle enviously.
"I rioted," you said belligerently, and the two of you giggled again. "I ripped up everything that was growing in the beds and stomped on it. Frank was so mad," you said, sucking in air through your teeth.
"How did ya even stay alive?" worried Danielle.
"Shaya saved me," you said, getting nostalgic. "She hid me behind her while Frank threatened to whip me."
"And Shaya didn't do anything to ya?" asked Dany incredulously.
"Nope," you shook your head. "She took me to my room, and when I asked what she was gonna do to me, she said I'd already punished myself," you exhaled convulsively, wrapping your arms around yourself. "I spent the whole night agonizing and thinking about her words, trying to figure out what she meant. I didn't realize until this morning. I was the one sowing and weeding those damn beds," Dany opened her eyes slightly. She was watching you from under half-open eyelids - at the way your gaze roamed the garden across from you. The girl rarely heard the longing in your voice, and every such moment returned with an unaccustomedness in her heart that made it beat faster. "I want ya come back home with me," you asked quietly.
"I want it, too," Danielle muttered in embarrassment, closing her eyes again.
Her desire was reflected in your phone. Not a single call, not a single message. "Why don't I keep ya as a garden slave for a couple more weeks?" you blurted out indignantly. "It gives ya a zeal, I see."
With eyes already wide open, Dany jumped up. The box nearly flew off her lap. "No!" she begged, looking up at you and clutching the package back to her.
"If ya want something, you have to say it," you muttered indignantly. "Ya'd better open it," you said, nodding toward the box. "Ya were hungry, weren't ya?"
With a hesitant nod, Danielle slowly unwrapped the package. She didn't know whether it was the sight of the ridiculous chocolate muffins or the tart but sweet smell that clouded her mind faster. She grabbed one and swallowed it whole, oblivious to herself or her own name. You mentally thanked Megumi for his decision to take the smaller baking dish.
You coughed meaningfully, slyly examining your nails in the sunlight. "Ya know, I didn't actually make them."
"What?" she whimpered excitedly with her mouth full. "I said I'd come back, but I didn't say anything about a relationship with Megumi-"
"Yeah, yeah," you sarcastically interrupted her, carelessly waving her words away. "Sure."
[June 19, 2020; 01:23am; hunters' hq]
Feeling the warmth of the couch was all your back had been asking for lately, and you'd been obediently fulfilling your body's desire despite your own. Your head rested peacefully in Kyle's lap, your eyes roaming the news feed on your phone.
You didn't notice how restlessly you fidgeted with your legs from time to time, not even the annoying sound of the soft material rustling could quiet you. Every time you fidgeted, you felt a soft scratching at the back of your head as you turned from one side to the other.
"What's wrong?" asked Kyle puzzled as you rolled over once again, sighing irritably.
"Everything's fine," you waved it off indifferently.
"Ya have a disgruntled face," he remarked, grinning.
You pulled yourself up and sat down, leaning back against the couch. "Rach only brought out two people," you rambled worriedly. "Only two, Kyle," you shoved a hand in his face with your index and middle finger raised. "That's an incredibly bad start."
Kyle intercepted your palm and kissed the pad of your finger. "Oh, come on," he laughed, looking at your perplexed face and releasing your hand. "It's a good start. She brought your new acquaintance out with her, by the way," he reminded you reasonably. "And Issu might bring more people out with him."
You turned and stared at the infirmary door, remembering the way Doc had slammed it shut in front of you and Kyle. Doc was an irritable, taciturn man, but the thought of how much work he'd have to do in the next few weeks made you shiver.
"...to the previous news. The incident that occurred in April this year in the nightclub N..."
Even though you were in your own thoughts, your skin began to itch painfully in places. You wanted to catch a glimpse of Nora, or Rachel, or that old lady whose name you couldn't ask - the old woman who'd come out of the void unconscious and ended up in the infirmary.
"...contacting the police station. Now, the police have suspended the investigation for unspecified reasons. In the following footage you can see a protest organized near the police station by the parents of the missing as well as concerned people..."
"Hey," Kyle called softly, tugging gently on your earlobe. You stirred, tore your gaze away from the infirmary door and dropped your head back into his lap. "Don't distress yourself. It's gonna be okay."
"I know," you exhaled gloomily. "It's just that I'm freaking out about being banned from the void and there's no way I can check to see if everything's okay."
"Oh, what bad guys we are," Kyle drawled sarcastically, pinching you again. "Taking care of your health."
"That's not what I meant," you muttered, waving his hands away. "Ya remember what Rach said after she came out of the void?"
"Yeah," Kyle nodded briefly. "That people are afraid to come out. They don't even believe Jonah."
"Exactly," you said. "Do ya remember any of this ever happening?" you tried to speak calmly, but you were out of breath.
"I'll still go on the raid after Issu, and I promise ya, I'll figure it out," he assured you softly, stroking your forehead with his thumb. "Don't worry."
"...at least twenty people. To date, eighteen of the missing have been identified..."
From the TV screen, neither pictures nor photographs looked at you. Ghosts. They wandered, hovering around you, but they dared not touch you. Against your better judgment, you felt their presence, felt their stares, felt even their silence. It felt like a dark silent whisper on your skin as if the ghosts were breathing right next to you. "Twenty-three," you said in a mesmerized whisper, looking at another picture of familiar features on the screen.
Kyle glanced fearfully at your face. It seemed pale in the light from the TV. "What?" he asked perplexedly.
You lifted yourself up again and sat up, tucking your legs under you, but you didn't do it as quickly as you had the first time. "Kyle, I haven't told ya everything," you said, guiltily hiding your gaze from his. "I think there's a diomorphea in there."
A second long silence made you look up. "Why didn't ya... Why didn't ya tell me at once?" there wasn't an ounce of accusation in his voice. Rather, a genuine misunderstanding of your disbelief.
"I was afraid ya'd tell Rach," you justified, looking at him dejectedly and shaking your head. "Ya know her, she would have just stormed in there and god knows what would have happened. Either she'd be dead, or a bunch of demons and with them the ones we're trying to save. Or both of it. I'm sorry," you shook your head harder.
Gently wrapping his arms around your shoulders, Kyle pulled you against him. "What did I promise ya just now?" he asked, leading you to think.
You rested your head on his shoulder, but you didn't dare take your eyes off the pictures. "That ya'll figure it out," you exhaled. "Kyle, ya can't keep fixing our fuck-ups forever."
"I'm your big brother," he grinned, stroking your back. "That's my job."
Wrapped in a blanket of warmth from a loved one, you couldn't help yourself. These people were still here with you, even if they didn't realize it. They were staring at you, drilling you, making you grit your teeth. You couldn't even cover your eyes because you'd just thought the russet-haired girl looking at you from the screen had blinked.
[June 20, 2020, 20:01, Tokyo, Tokyo Prefecture]
As you made your way along the roads of the busy evening city, you kept looking at your phone, for only maps helped you not to get lost in the stone jungle. Even though there were signboards at every turn, all those bright colors combined with the abundance of symbols and running from side to side to avoid hitting anyone in the crowd of people made your head spin.
You couldn't count the number of crosswalks you'd crossed, you didn't want to think about how many of them you'd crossed for nothing. Your desperate attempt to find a nightclub had taken you to unfamiliar places, and you stopped and sighed disappointedly, staring at your phone again, completely oblivious to the people you might be interrupting.
Disappointment was immediately replaced by bewilderment when a name popped up on your phone instead of maps. "Yeah?" you said hesitantly, bringing the phone to your ear.
"I can't leave you alone even for a minute, huh?" resented Gojo. "Where did you go?"
"I...," you started in confusion, looking around. "Uh," you muttered, turning around the other way, looking for clues. "I think I'm somewhere in Tokyo's downtown, but I'm not quite sure."
An irritated tongue cluck was heard on the other end. "What do you see?"
"Hmm," you pondered, continuing on your way. "I see a dental clinic," you looked over the hospital sign and cast a glance back over your shoulder. "Behind me is the Minami Hotel, I guess?" puzzled, you stopped at a crossroad. "There's something else around the corner that looks like a park and playground-"
Someone's arms went around your waist. "Boo!" they shouted in your ear, but you didn't even flinch, just squeezed your eyes shut at the loud sound. "Hey, you could at least look scared," came a cranky voice from behind you.
You tilted your head up, and instead of an offended face, you were met with a bright smile. "What, in public?" you asked hesitantly.
Gojo rubbed his nose against your forehead. A brief gesture that sent warmth through your limbs. "I'm not shy about expressing my lo-"
"I mean about the teleport," you interrupted quickly.
With an irritated snort, he let you out of his arms and you moved forward. "So where are we going?"
"To a nightclub," you replied carelessly.
"At your age?" resented Gojo, wrinkling his nose. "It's a little too late for that."
You paid no attention to his words, just continued to look around at the signs, completely oblivious to the fact that you now had a tour guide beside you. "Ya wouldn't happen to know anything about what happened at Nightclub N, would ya? It's still on the news, even though it happened back in April."
"Oh," stunned Gojo. "I was there day after, but no curses or cursed energy was there."
"And ya didn't tell me?" you huffed, glaring at him judgmentally.
"I didn't even think about it," he admitted honestly, shrugging his shoulders. "And you weren't back then," Gojo glanced at you, and seeing no anger or disappointment on your face, he exhaled in relief. "So what are we doing?"
"It would be a good idea to start by talking," you reasoned, looking ahead. "I had Meg do some snooping, and she found out that it's not just visitors who've been hit, but employees too. One, at least."
"So-so information," he grudgingly opined.
"Maybe," you agreed. "Better than nothing, though."
Surprisingly, things did go faster with Gojo, and you didn't feel so lost in the dust of the big city. You'd been wandering around that nightclub all this time, but for some reason you'd ignored the turn into the courtyard. He took your hand in his and led you to the right place in a few minutes - the best guide ever.
You pulled a wireless earphone out of the case and put it in your ear. "Meg, turn it off," you had only one answer to Gojo's questioning look. "Cameras," you explained with a shrug.
Nothing stands out - your first thought when you found yourself at the front doors. There weren't even any neon signs in this place - a simple gawker would easily miss a place like this in the night. While you pondered, Gojo walked to the door. Opening it, he gestured for you to come inside.
The first thing you encountered as you walked down the hallway dotted with plastic vegetation was the hostess desk. A woman in a white dress seemed to be filling out something, paying no attention to you. "Ahem," you coughed quietly, stepping closer to the counter.
The girl raised her head. "I apologize," she said sincerely, bestowing a welcoming smile. Her gaze focused as if she had just been pulled out of her thoughts. You nodded understandingly in response.
The hostess stared at you for a second, then looked behind you. Her eyes widened in surprise for a moment, and a blush appeared on her snow-white cheeks. It was obvious without words who she was admiring. "I apologize," she repeated, barely moving her eyes to you. "We're only open from ten p.m. onwards. Would you like to make a reservation in the VIP area?" she handed you one of the sheets she'd just filled out. "You can look over the seating and choose the one that best suits you."
"That's not why we're here," you said quietly and the corners of the woman's lips slowly but surely crept down.
She glanced furtively toward the dance area, which was behind a decorative grid. The grid was covered with flowers, but you could see the bar, where someone was already standing and looking in your direction. "If you're journalists, just go away," she whispered anxiously.
You took the sheet from her hands, and began to pretend to consider the seating plan. "Ya misunderstand," you assured her. "I'm a private investigator, I was hired by one of the families of the missing," the hostess shifted a concerned yet questioning look to Gojo. "Don't worry, it's just my comp-"
"Her husband," he stated, putting his arm around your shoulders. "Just family business."
"Well, or so...," you muttered, sighing.
"Mochi, have you already chosen where we're gonna sit?" his voice was already too ringing at times, but this time it was as if Gojo was deliberately speaking louder than usual. "Smile," he addressed the girl, and in contrast, his words sounded very quiet. You glimpsed again at the bars - it seemed that those who stood there had ceased to be interested in you.
She put on a duty smile. "Reservations are optional if you want to visit the dance area," she said in a minted but sweet tone.
You pretended to stroke Gojo's forearm that wrapped around your collarbones. In one deft motion, you pulled the picture from inside pocket, placing it under the sheet you were holding. Placing the paper on the counter, you tapped a random spot. "I think we'll sit here," you pushed the sheet away. "Do ya know her?" your quite question caused the girl's ribcage to begin to heave heavily when she saw the russet-haired girl. You mentally scolded her for potentially attracting unnecessary attention. "She worked here."
"Did her parents hire you?" the hostess fought her inner emotions for an outward smile. "I don't know," she whispered fearfully, though she was still smiling full-mouth. "I really don't know anything," her eyes glittered dangerously, and you carefully covered the picture with the paper. "Please, go away."
"Thanks," you said loudly and cheerfully, backing away from the counter. "See ya later," you nodded her goodbye and took Gojo's hand, and you headed toward the exit.
Barely waiting until you were on the other side of the glass doors, he stopped right in front of you. "So that's it?" he lamented. "We're just gonna leave like this?"
"No need to draw unnecessary attention. She was scared enough. I thought she was about to cry," you sighed doomfully. "But I left her phone number on the back of the picture."
"Okay," he drawled, smiling slyly. "Now what?"
After sneaking through a narrow alleyway and soiling your clothes in wet dust, you wandered around the back of the police station. Stopping at the wall of an adjacent building, you decided to exhale and think. Why was the hostess so scared? If it wasn't the employees at the bar, then who was standing there during off hours? Moreover, why did the girl only shake harder when she saw the picture?
From Gojo's perspective and in his opinion, you looked suspicious - two subjects loitering in the back of a police station. What was he supposed to do when he heard the back door click? Nothing but that - that's how he reassured himself as he pressed you against the wall. "Just play along, 'kay?" he whispered, facing your panicked incomprehension - you'd been pulled from your thoughts too abruptly.
You nodded hesitantly, but you weren't reassured by his plan or his actions. For the moment Gojo cupped your cheek, you felt that his fingers trembled. "Have you ever kissed?" you couldn't hear the inherent curiosity in his voice, the only thing you could catch among the words he spoke was sincerity. "Take it off," he demanded, leaning his forehead against yours. "Take off your mask," his words and actions became more insistent - his hand pressed you against him with such force that it was physically hard to breathe.
"Hey!" a sharp exclamation gave you the strength to push him away from you. "Girl, are you okay?" the police officer asked, flicking ash off his cigarette.
"Yeah," you assured him. "W-we just... Uh, we just forgot ourselves a little. I'm sorry," you said, taking another step away from Gojo.
"Kids...," the officer muttered. "You should go home and do this sort of thing," he admonished. Taking one last puff, the policeman put out the cigarette butt, tossed it in the trash can, and went inside.
"Uh, well," you sighed, making up for the lack of oxygen. Looking around the wall of the one-story police station, you noticed that there were two windowless passages - probably one of those rooms was what you needed.
Carefully making sure no one was looking in your direction from the windows, you moved closer to the wall, Gojo's confusion replaced in an instant by a prick of anger. He was immensely resilient, but even he was beginning to tire of your behavior. It was as if nothing had ever happened.
"And how would we get there?" you muttered to yourself, squinting at the brickwork.
Of course, he couldn't pass up the opportunity to tease you. It was beyond him. "What, are you out of energy because of your shaky legs?" he asked in a teasing tone, coming up behind you.
"No, it's just that I can't teleport to a point I haven't seen before," your seriousness made him roll his eyes so hard he could have sworn he saw his own brain. "There could be anything in there, after all. A box, another wall, or an iron pole. And I don't really wanna become a part of that."
"What a weakling you are," Gojo grimaced, grabbing you under the armpits and lifting you into the air. When he released you, you were already standing on the floor. Indoors.
It was dark here - not a single light bulb shone, but even so you could make out a bunch of metal lockers against the walls, a few long benches, and some scattered things. Locker room. No hits. Next room across the hall, then.
You went to the door and stood still, listening. There were no voices, no footsteps, no rustling. You gripped the knob and pulled gently, turning it. When the door wouldn't budge, you applied force and pulled a few more times. Nothing.
A tired, condescending sigh came from behind you. Gojo grabbed your shoulder and pulled you aside, then grabbed the handle of the door and opened it with a quiet crack.
In the darkness, you met only his arrogant smile. "Congratulations," you said sarcastically. "When they see this, everyone will realize someone's been loitering around here."
"And this is your gratitude?" whispered Gojo indignantly.
Instead of answering and bickering, you grabbed his hand and dragged him as quietly as possible down the hallway in the right direction. When you came to the next door, he moved you into the room without thinking or warning.
That's what it took to get to the evidence room, but it didn't look the way you'd imagined. The shelves were more for show, for there were boxes and packages scattered carelessly on them, just as there were on the floor.
Gojo picked up one of the clear bags, and after looking it over, handed it to you. You grinned approvingly when you saw the date and place written in black marker.
You silently began to scour the shelves and floor in search of at least the year you needed. The place was a mess, but systematicity still seemed from around the corner, slyly peering at what you were doing. You had already made it to January, and not wanting to miss anything, you took your time. "What makes you think demons are involved here anyway?" asked Gojo, setting another box aside.
"I saw them," you replied, scrutinizing the dates. "I saw those people right before I came out of the void."
"That's how," he replied, catching a glimpse of you. His tense shoulders relaxed every time he saw you start to put on weight. He'd already gone through almost the entire March, and after tossing aside a few more unwanted plastic bags, he got to the right one. "Hey," he quietly called out to you. "Is this it?"
You took the box in your hands.
#413091
April 6, 2020
Tokyo, Tokyo Prefecture, Nightclub N
Sealed
"It is," you answered without much joy. As you weighed the box in your hands, you looked up at Gojo with a puzzled look. "What kinda mockery is this?" you asked warily, setting the overly light box on the floor. Breaking the seal and opening it, you pursed your lips in frustration.
There was almost nothing, just a few cigarette butts with lipstick marks, a couple of bottles, a folding knife, bloody napkins, but, remarkably, one bag of white pills. "Not only did the police shut down the investigation, but the club was still working while the investigation was ongoing, now there's no evidence. Who's protecting them?" you wondered, reaching for the bag of pills.
"Probably the one who dragged people into the void," Gojo suggested, trying to find anything else on the bottom.
"Well, or at least someone closely associated with them. It wouldn't be a bad idea to find the owner of the club," you considered the pills, but there was nothing remarkable on them. Just a pure white color. "If the owner is aware of what's going on and he isn't a fool, there's probably some subsidiary company attached to the club, followed by the parent company, and the real names in that holding company are no longer to be found," you opened the bag and held it up to your nose. Nothing. Frowning puzzled, you slipped the packet to Gojo. "Smell anything?"
As soon as he brought it to his face, he immediately pulled it away, pinching his nostrils. "God... The smell is nice, but it's so pungent that...," he stammered, wiping away the tears that came to his eyes. "Put that away," he said and threw the bag at you.
You caught him deftly, and you and the pills stared at each other. The gears of your mind whirred again. You knew of only one demon capable of such brazen machinations right in front of everyone's eyes. If the pills contained black orchid that didn't bode well because in small quantities it was like a drug that induced a state of euphoria, and judging by the number of pills, the demon was obviously not alone in that club.
You glanced at the broken seal - eventually they'd find out that someone had been digging around here. The question was whether they'd find out who it was. "Let's get out of here," you said to Gojo and was about to move towards the door, but with the edge of your thief eye you caught a shine. "O-oh, what do we have here," you drawled mesmerized, reaching for the sealed bag containing the necklace.
"Are you crazy?" blustered Gojo, intercepting your hands. "We're not stealing evidence!" you snorted meekly but grudgingly, wrenching your hands free and quickly hiding them in your pockets, which made him squint his eyes suspiciously. "Empty your pockets," Gojo demanded in a commanding tone, to which you only flinched. "I said empty them!" he exclaimed, and despite your resistance, he did find what he was looking for, but not under the right conditions. A pair of gold rings. Gasping with indignation, he tossed them farther into a pile of boxes. "We're not stealing evidence! Geez, adults once told me not to get with the wrong crowd, but here I am," he whimpered, running a hand through his snow-white hair.
As he lamented, you couldn't stop the process - thoughts raced, each one trying to overtake the other. You couldn't hear the key turning in the locks or the quiet footsteps because of the silent noise. "Hands up," you raised your head, only to be met with an unfamiliar face and a gun pointed in your direction. "I said hands up!"
"Hey, hey," you justifiably rambled, raising your hands. "We can explain-"
"We?" barked the police officer. "Girl, are you out of your mind?" You barely had time to turn your head back before you heard the safety click, but even that couldn't alarm you as much as the realization that there was no one behind you. "Face the wall," the officer ordered, muzzle pointing at the wall.
You went obediently to the wall, and when you were almost there, you were pushed against it. Holding you by the neck with one hand, the policeman snapped your arms, and there was a clinking sound. Handcuffs.
If someone asked you at the beginning of the day how you'd spend your evening, you could list a bunch of options - watching a TV show, meeting with insiders, chasing the next artifact, sitting around a campfire with Kyle or Rachel, having a cup of tea or even a glass of wine - but you'd never guess how you'd actually spend it.
Part of your evening consisted of traveling to the holding cell at gunpoint.
When your handcuffs were removed, your phone, belt and earrings were taken away, the bars slammed shut behind you with a deafening clang. You pressed your face between the steel bars. "Hey," you called out to the departing cop. "I'm entitled to one phone call."
"Why don't you get a lawyer, too?" snickered the duty officer.
"Preferably. But ya'll need it if ya don't let me call," you said nonchalantly, keeping a friendly attitude.
Of course, you could have vanished from the cell as soon as he left, but you didn't want to be known as a fugitive on news programs across the country.
The man paused for a moment, thinking about something, and then turned back to you. With his piercing gaze boring into you and his hand on his holster, he handed you the phone, and as soon as you picked it up, it rang.
You shrugged your shoulders and backed away from the bars to avoid having it taken from you. "That'll count as your call," the man warned you.
You brought the phone to your ear, mentally preparing yourself for what awaited you. "Say please," Gojo scoffed from the other side. "Come on," he coaxed, taunting you. "Say please and maybe I'll get you out."
"I hope ya're pleased with yourself," were all the words that you could muster, stepping over your pride. "Please."
You heard neither confirmation nor another round of teasing; only short beeps. Despondently, you handed the phone to the officer, and as long as you had strength left, you clung to the iron bars and listened to every action that took place. The police officer seemed to be watching something, and every now and then, you heard the clatter of a mug against the table.
It seems like five minutes or fifteen have passed - you can't count in a cramped cell without a clock. The front door slammed, and loud footsteps sounded. "Please excuse my wife," a familiar chirp tickled your ears. "She's having a seasonal exacerbation."
***
You had already traveled a great distance, leaving the police station behind, but you hadn't said a word, which amused Gojo and worried him at the same time. Anyway, you still let him hold your hand, which meant you weren't that angry.
He was annoyed that he couldn't read your emotions because half of your face was hidden - it was like ripping half of a book out before he could read the rest of it. The question was no longer whether you were angry or hurt, but did you feel anything at all? "Well," he began slyly. "Are you gonna sulk like that?"
"I can't believe it," you said reproachfully, shaking your head. "Ya left me. Ya left me, abandoned me, humiliated me-"
"Is that how you talk to the man who bailed you out?" laughing, he stopped and stood right in front of you.
"It was a bribe!" you retorted indignantly.
"I'd do it again," he admitted solemnly, looking haughtily and cheerfully into your eyes.
"I know," you whispered. "But I thought we were best friends," he didn't notice the triumph replaced by panic the first time he saw your wounded gaze.
"No, no," he rambled anxiously, gently cupping your cheeks. "It's just a joke, really, I was just kidding-"
"I would never do that to ya," you managed to say, swallowing the lump in your throat. You wrapped your palm around his - the one that pressed harder against your face. You bit your lip in frustration. "I would never leave ya," seeing the glint in your averted gaze made everything inside him flip - from his soul to his organs. That wasn't the kind of glint he wanted to see. "I know I don't act the way ya'd like me to sometimes, but- Oh," your face changed immediately, from sadness to pure curiosity, and you let go of his hands and stepped around him, heading somewhere.
He was one-step away from bursting into tears himself, but your actions have left him stumped. After a moment of standing as if you were still here, he turned around. You were striding briskly toward the huge red glowing sign that read 'Spicy Dumplings'.
One might have thought that this was not enough to stomp on his heart, but then, as luck would have it, he thought that it had become too light in his pocket. His purse were missing. "Seriously?" he sighed, throwing his head back and staring up at the night sky covered in light noise. "There are so many people in the world, why her?" the stars were hidden - the stars were silent.
Megumi had seen his reflection in the mirror countless times and just as many times he'd experienced nothing - a man like a man, a person who didn't stand out, but now, as Kyle walked around him in circles with a measuring tape around his neck and pins stuck in his shirt, the boy felt genuinely excited.
Even though Megumi felt like a mannequin being abused, occasionally getting needles under his skin by accident, he still thought it was worth it. Megumi glanced at the mask made for him. Even without filters, it looked heavy, but the precise curves of its rigid material made it somewhat dangerous.
The boy jerked when Kyle once again grazed the skin on his shoulder with the pin. "Sorry," Kyle muttered. "I'm not very good at this."
"Then why don't others do it?" grunted Megumi, staring at himself in the mirror again.
The man only chuckled - no offense intended. "May I remind ya," he began softly in between. "Ya don't have to do this."
"I know," Megumi replied stubbornly. "I don't know how to do anything else, though."
"Do ya?" wondered Kyle sincerely. "What, no hobbies?"
Megumi looked at Kyle as if he was hearing those words for the first time. The man pressed his lips together understandingly and continued his tailor's work. Seeing another section of loosely dangling fabric, he pinched it down the boy's body and secured it with a pin. "Ya know, when ya get back, we can go fishing with together," he suggested light-heartedly, pulling out the now unnecessary needle and, finding no better option, jammed it between his teeth. "Or I could teach ya how to play the guitar," as Kyle cheerfully enumerated, Megumi only frowned his eyebrows harder. "In a pinch, we can weave beaded bracelets with ya," he laughed and his soft, deep voice floated around the room. "Okay, well, try this on," Kyle said, handing him the mask.
The mask was a little heavier than it looked, and Megumi held it for a moment before taking a deep jagged breath and leaning it against his face. The mask, making a clicking sound, sat perfectly. "How's that? Fine?" inquired Kyle, not giving up on trying to get Megumi to talk.
"Yeah," Megumi replied indifferently, and his voice came strangled and mechanical, but Kyle was used to that. "Just hot in this uniform."
"That's what ya saying now," Kyle pointed out. "Ya'll thank me a hundred times in the void."
"You?" the boy asked, raising an eyebrow skeptically.
The room went up in flames in an instant as if everything was lit up in red flames, but barely had the flash subsided when Megumi saw that it was Kyle's hands that were burning. "Me," Kyle said cheekily but still jokingly. "I'm the one in charge of thermoregulation here."
Megumi stared mesmerized at the man's hands - a second ago, they were still burning, burning as bright and hot as his disheveled gut. "I want that, too," the boy muttered quietly.
"Too, huh?" Kyle smirked meaningfully. "So ya okay with everything else?" turning away in embarrassment, Megumi tried to pull the mask off, but it wouldn't budge. He kept tugging at it while Kyle watched his desperate attempts. "Lemme help ya, you're gonna rip your face off," the man offered. "There are buttons on the sides," he informed, pulling the mask off the boy.
"You couldn't tell me before, could you?" an indignant Megumi panted, rubbing the line of his chin.
"My bad. Sorry," Kyle couldn't help it - the smile wouldn't leave his face. "By the way, uh… How's it going... with Dany?"
Megumi hated it when someone poked their nose into his life, much less his personal life. Shutting down, withdrawing into himself was the first reaction brought on by years of building up an internal psychology, but now that Megumi saw the unfamiliar warm gaze, he was glad that there was at least one person who was genuinely interested in his inner state. "I don't know, she doesn't talk to me," the boy said sullenly. "It would be better if she just told me she doesn't like me anymore," he added quietly.
"And how is that better?"
"Then I'd know for sure I don't stand a chance anymore," Megumi despaired. "I've been trying to catch up to her in training, but she's even running faster than me. I can't look for her in these damn woods," Megumi muttered, pulling off the top of his uniform and handing the fabric to Kyle.
Kyle knew that he shouldn't laugh at problems - neither big ones, nor small ones, nor their description. He was trying his best to remain silent now, only nodding significantly. "Well...," he drawled. "So there's definitely motivation to train even harder now."
"People have their limits," Megumi frowned, tugging on his home t-shirt with a jerk. "I think I've reached mine."
"Ya'd best remember well what ya just said," the man said sternly. "Remember it well and forget it. Otherwise, if I hear ya say that again, we'll stop training ya."
"And I'll continue without you," Megumi stubbornly persisted. "I may not be in control of it yet, but with or without you, I can still walk into the void."
"And die," Kyle finished for him, though the boy's sentence didn't require it. "Ya know what that's called? Cut off nose to spite face," seeing Megumi's haggard face, Kyle softened. "Come on," he paternally patted the boy on the top of his head. "How about this. When ya get back, I'll set up a rendezvous for ya and Dany."
Megumi hummed incredulously, shifting from foot to foot. "Can you really make it?"
Kyle didn't know what he was signing up for. Persuading a stubborn girl and trying to change her mind was a deep hole that couldn't be climbed out of with walls or even a ladder, but when he saw the faint smile flash across Megumi's face, he knew it was worth it. "I'll try."
You were already cooing with the waiter when you'd been apart for a minute – that was what Gojo saw in his mind, distorted by an unknown feeling. When the corners of your eyes crinkled once more, he felt an unfamiliar tingle under his ribs. It was directed, burning.
In two strides, he'd covered the distance from the front door to the table you were at and plopped down across from you. "Baby, could you not run away from me like that anymore?" shifting his gaze from you to the waiter, it went from soft to steely, all the blue was gone. The waiter was embarrassed by his direct gaze, and after glancing at you and seeing your nod, he hurriedly retreated to the kitchen. "So much for service," he muttered, looking after the waiter. "I didn't even order anything."
"I ordered ya mild shrimp dumplings and two cheesecakes," you said, looking at his profile - something in the air felt spicy from more than just the smell of the local sauce.
He didn't realize whether he liked it or not that you knew him well, the only thing that bothered and hurt him was that he didn't know you. Not even that. He knew something about you, but only from other people's words and among them was none of yours. "Well?" he inquired, finally turning in your direction. "What's next?"
"Cholesterol plaques," you chirped in pleasant anticipation. "I've been eating nothing but soup and porridge for weeks now, one more day like this and I'll hang myself."
"I'd look at that," Gojo drawled detachedly.
"Is something wrong?" you worried. "It's like ya angry."
He was silent for a few more good moments, staring out the window and tapping his finger on his chin. "Frank told me you've been missing for three years. What have you been doing?" you swallowed all the words out of surprise and stared at him stunned. "What?" asked Gojo indifferently. "You know everything about me, I know nothing about you. That's not very fair."
"It's not like I have a choice," you tried to gently remind him.
"Really?" his voice remained calm, but it still made you want to squirm in your seat. "My negligent students tied you up and made you listen to all the facts about me?"
"It's dif-"
"Different, yeah," he interrupted, shaking his head and leaning back in his chair - away from you. An inner voice yelled at him to shut his mouth, too bad Gojo was deaf at that moment. "Tell me, what does human meat taste like? I heard somewhere that it tastes like chicken, is that true?" your heart was definitely tied with fishing line and started to squeeze, and if not, why did you feel like blood was dripping off it? "Oh, come on," he laughed, seeing the subtle change on your face. "Well, you ate a couple people, who among us is not without sin?"
You looked around, almost unable to see anything through the haze, but there didn't seem to be anyone near you. "If we don't shut this down, I'm gonna eat ya too," you tried to guffaw, keeping your face straight. "Alive."
"I'm just trying to get to know you better," Gojo stared at you, trying to catch everything he could - gestures, facial expressions, anything. Every time he caught something he wanted, satisfaction involuntarily spread through his body. Paradoxically, the thought of enjoying it made him sick, but he couldn't help it - your hypocrisy was wearing him down. You were the one who'd first said you'd never revisit the subject, and yet every day with every unspoken word, you reminded Gojo that you didn't trust him. "I get that you're trying to seem mysterious, but have you ever wondered how it looks?" he chuckled sarcastically. "You look like a wretched runaway," you sat up, listening and memorizing every word. "Maybe I should tell you what happens to people who don't open up to anyone?" he leaned closer to you as if he wanted to tell you a secret that was known only to him. "Let me better demonstrate, though," Gojo got up from the table, and still looking at you, distanced himself a couple steps away. "Look at that," he snapped his fingers, pointing to his now empty seat and grinned contentedly. "You're all alone."
Gojo didn't try to get to know you better because then he could have asked you what your favorite color was, or movie, or music, but no. He got under your skin. Deliberately and painfully, choosing words that scratched and bit, and you didn't even have time to ask 'why' because his back, which had already disappeared behind the front door, would hardly have answered your question.
[June 30, 2020, 23:14, hunters' hq]
[10:59pm] You: We are going on a raid in an hour
[10:59pm] You: Megumi will text ya when he gets back
This message, like the previous ones, remained delivered but unread. Looking at it again, you went back to your routine. Books, lots of medical supplies, and more dry rations were what lay on the table. You and Kyle spread it all out into gym bags as compactly as possible, good thing you could carry twice as much into the void this time - thanks to your new apprentice.
Worries and doubts scrabbled at your mind as you put another packet of ibuprofen in your bag - did you tell Megumi everything you wanted to? Had you conveyed everything to him? Did he understand everything? The only thing you knew for sure was that you couldn't let him out of your sight. The first few times, at least.
You never missed an opportunity to remind the boy that if anything went wrong, he should run and not look back, and each time you said it aloud, you caught an increasingly annoyed look in his eyes. You believed that at the right moment, your words would play an annoying song in Megumi's head and he would do what you wanted him to do, even if it was against his own will. "Okay," Kyle pulled you out of your thoughts. "I got rid of most of the wardens, but others could come, be careful," he admonished you for the umpteenth time. "Remember they have been abused badly, more so than the others have ever told us, that's why they so afraid to come in contact. But I've prepared the ground," he poked you quietly with his shoulder. "Since Rachel took out three people, Issu will probably take out as many more, which means there will be at least two more in the hut," he wasn't discouraged, and you hummed in response. "Well," Kyle began in between, seeing your state of mind. "He still hasn't called?"
"Busy, I guess," at this point you ratted yourself out, for your brother didn't even give a name.
"I bet," Kyle muttered, pressing the contents of the bag to make some more room. "Why is your face long?"
"Not long, but focused," you brushed it off.
"Yeah, as ya say. Ya've been frowning for over a week. Even if I can't see it, I can feel it. And he hasn't been here in all that time," even though Kyle didn't like Gojo, there was a touch of sympathy in his voice. "What happened between ya two?"
"Nothing happened," you retorted. "And nothing's gonna happen," you added, softening. "He just... Dunno, he just got mad all of a sudden. Maybe it's because I don't tell him anything about me or what happened to me," you sighed sadly, your actions becoming slower and moodier.
Kyle was angry. You'd never told anyone anything, not even your loved ones, so where did Gojo get this idea of his uniqueness? "He'll get over it," he muttered. "If he doesn't, the hell with him. Let him cling to someone else."
"Ya'd be happy to," you said, grinning slyly. Maybe there was truth to Kyle's words, but you couldn't wash away that sticky acrid feeling with water or soap. Gojo must have felt the same way then. You were both disappointed in you. "We forgot the sugar," you said, going through the supplies on the table. "I'll get it."
At your brother's concerned look, you walked out of the workroom, went up the stairs and down the hallway. You were already a foot away from the fridge, only the sickening feeling of suddenly soaked socks made you cringe. "What the...," you squeaked, taking a step back.
There was water under the refrigerator. In spite of the puddle, you walked over to it and jerked open the door - not even a light bulb on. "Great," you mumbled to the empty room, and jerked the door back shut.
As if you didn't have enough troubles already, now you had to buy a new fridge. You liked it, though. It might be red, it might have daisies on it, but you were too used to it. "How much longer ya gonna look for sugar?" Kyle asked rhetorically, leaning against the doorjamb and watching you search the drawers for a rag. "Come on," he walked over to you, putting his arm around your shoulders to ward off all the fuss. Kyle glanced first at the refrigerator and then at the puddle that had spread beneath it. "That thing was barely hanging on. I'll walk ya out, and then I'll clean this place up."
Something was pressing against your shoulders. It clearly wasn't Kyle's hands. They might have looked massive, but everyone close to him knew how gentle the man could be.
The door creaked open on the second floor. "Please don't go," a pleading voice made your heart clench. "Ya're not ready yet, ya've had too little practice," came the sound of footsteps - some hurried, others hesitant.
Everything fell into place when the two persons finally came down - Megumi and Daniel. She grabbed his sleeve, asking him to stop, but he didn't even look in her direction. Yanking his arm out of her weak grip, he stood beside you. "Y/N," the girl pleaded. "Please tell him he's not ready."
"But I already told him he's coming with me today."
"W-what?" she asked in a stammering voice, looking at you as if you'd plunged a dagger under her ribs. "No-no-no," she shook her head desperately. "Why didn't ya ask me?"
You raised an eyebrow uncomprehendingly. "Should I have?" you asked indifferently. "If ya'd given him a chance to talk to ya once, maybe ya would have found out sooner."
"Don't ya fucking dare put the blame on me!" she shouted, and the outburst made the tears she'd been holding back roll down her cheeks. "Ya owed it to me to tell me!" her ringing voice began to break. "Ya took my mother away from me," she muttered. "Y-ya took my father from me," she continued to squeeze the words out of her through all the pain and hardship. "Now ya want him too?"
"Dany, not in public-"
"Not in public?!" she yelled. "He could die out there and all ya're worried about is me telling about your sins?" she laughed bitterly, wiping her wet face with her hands.
"Megumi, go to the workroom," you said softly, nudging him toward the exit. The boy hesitated a few steps and stopped, but you weren't looking at him.
"Now ya wanna take my boyfriend too," it wasn't a question anymore. It was a statement. A weak, quiet assertion.
"Dany, please calm down," Kyle gently tried to reassure her, cautiously stepping closer to her. "Megumi's gonna be fine-"
"Back off," she pulled away sharply from Kyle.
"Should I mention that he's no longer your boyfriend?" if there had been thread in the room, you would have sewn your mouth shut. There weren't, though. "You dumped him, remember?"
Danielle's rage didn't disappear - it just became as quiet as the girl's tears. "I hate ya," the words were almost impossible to hear, but you understood everything from her barely moving lips. "I hate ya so much that not even your death will make me love ya again."
Before she turned away from you, you saw the helpless anger in her eyes. You watched in a daze as she went up to the second floor on weak legs and then disappeared from sight. "Dany," Kyle called out to her, forcing you out of your stupor.
You quickly followed her upstairs and sighed as you realized you hadn't made it in time - the door to her room had already slammed shut. You banged on it with all your might. "Dany, open up!" instead of the usual words or silence, you were met with a ragged sob. You and Kyle looked over at each other anxiously. "Danielle!" you groaned again. "If you don't open it, I'm gonna kick the fucking door down!" you warned.
Your eyes blurred as her sobs subsided.
There was a rustle of sheets followed by quiet footsteps. The lock of the door clicked.
You were greeted by your loved one's face, but it was very different from the one you'd seen in the kitchen. No more anger, no more rage - just disheveled blond hair, red puffy eyelids, and grief. "Dany, I-"
You were interrupted by your own phone, and you almost whimpered in frustration. You glanced at the screen, and the evening's call from that person didn't bode well. It was Rachel.
"Answer it," she said weakly. "It must be very important," you didn't get a word out before she closed the door quietly in your face. Kyle turned the knob with a barely perceptible movement to leave a small gap.
You pressed the screen with force, and only a miracle saved it from cracking. "Speak," you snapped into the phone.
"Ah- H-hey," even if Rachel hadn't stuttered, you'd have realized she was drunk. "I can't re- relocate. I can't catch a cab either. Get me out of here," she whined.
"Okay, Kyle will pick you up-"
"No!" she yelled into the phone. "If ya don't get me out of there, I swear ya will be no longer my fucking sister," Rachel hissed.
"Rach, I've got a raid-"
"I'm supposed to care about that?" she hiccupped angrily. "Kyle always has to do everything for ya, doesn't he? Kyle this, Kyle that- Hey! Hey, asshole!," she was still yelling, but her voice was muffled. "Ya blind? No? Then maybe I'm nothing to ya?"
You and Kyle looked at each other grimly - even from here, your brother could hear the mayhem going on at the other end of the phone. The crack of wood, broken glass, shouts, muffled thuds - you squinted your eyes at every sound. "Hey," Rachel's voice was back to ringing, distinct and drunken. "Anyway, pick me up already. I rarely see ya, I feel like I don't even have a sister."
You didn't get a chance to ask where she was. Rachel just dropped the call. "What kinda day is this," you whispered in a broken, shaky whisper, rubbing your hot forehead with the palm of your hand, still staring at the phone screen.
Kyle wrapped his fingers around your chin, forcing you to look up at him. "Go," he ordered, trying to ignore your glistening eyes. "It's okay, just go get Rachel."
"But what about-"
"Today was supposed to be my shift anyway," he reminded you, hugging you. "Ya'll just go after me."
"Alright, then tell Megumi we'll be leaving in three days," you nodded briefly, snuggling up to him.
"Nah, he's waited long enough," he laughed. "I can't stand the even more sullen face he has now," feeling you clinging to his t-shirt, he tried to reassure you as best he could and knew how. He pulled you even tighter against him and burrowed into your hair. "It's been so long," he whispered. "It's high time ya learned to believe in us."
"Okay," you exhaled raggedly, unable to tear yourself away from your brother. "Take care of him. Take care of yourself, too. Please," the glimpse of black streaks creeping up your fingers made you pull away from him. Kyle kissed your forehead briefly, but you felt his lips linger on your skin a little longer than usual.
You took a couple steps away from him, and after taking another look at him, you turned around and headed for the stairs. "Y/N?" he called out to you.
You were so expecting it that you turned to him again without thinking. "Yes?" you asked with hope in your voice.
He winked slyly. "See ya," he waved goodbye, and you caught the glint of his silver bracelet.
"See ya," you giggled, waving back at him.
As you walked away, you tried to keep a confident gait, but some thing pressed on your shoulders again.
Half the bar was trashed, no customers, only one redheaded girl sitting on a stool with her head on the table, either asleep or unconscious. After leaving Kyle, you called her a dozen times, and on the millionth call, you were swearing at everyone and everything. After you'd gotten her on the phone through your despair, you'd gotten her address, and there you were, standing there, among the shards of mugs and chips from tables and chairs.
Under the wary gaze of the man in the black shirt, you walked over to Rachel and shook her by the shoulder. She mumbled inarticulately. "Do you know her?" he asked sternly.
"Yeah," you replied indifferently, still trying to rouse your sister.
"All right," said the manager. "Then I'm calling the police," he informed.
"Please don't get the police," you begged resignedly. "I'll pay for everything, just... Really, let's not do that. I'll leave you a phone number," you said, picking up one of the surviving napkins from the table and turning around to face the man. "Do you have a pen?"
He looked at you incredulously from head to toe, but your earrings seemed to convince him. He handed you a pen, and you quickly wrote your number on a napkin. "Here," you held out the phone number to him. "You can check it out."
Done. He dialed the number you had written, and your phone rang. "I'll send you the bill," the manager said formally. "Now get her out of here before she trashes the surviving half of the bar."
"Yeah, just...," you swallowed uncertainly. "I'll just bring her to her senses," the manager nodded, but didn't move. When you looked at your sister again, rage came over you, but remembering that you were in a public place, you immediately nipped it in the bud.
Grabbing Rachel by the scruff of her neck, you dragged her into the restroom. She struggled sluggishly and mumbled something, but you paid no attention. Kicking open the door, you tossed her right into the sink. "Did ya have fun, bitch?" with helplessness, your voice started to break again. You opened the faucet, and to your delight, ice-cold water came out of it.
You held Rachel's hair with your hand and tried to keep her head close to the stream, otherwise she'd just slide to the floor; with your other hand you scooped up the water and smeared it right over her drunken red face. "Do ya even remember ya have a son? Why aren't ya at his place?" you began to gasp along with her - she from the water, you from despair.
"I can't see him-" she stammered and choked, and you wondered if it was really the alcohol, the water, or her own words. "I-I'm gonna throw up," she practically forced the words out of her, choking on the water.
Whimpering, you pulled her hair and dragged her straight to the toilet stall. As soon as her head was bent over the toilet, everything started coming out of her. She coughed and spit, and you held her unruly hair back, even though the only thing you wanted to do right now was drown her in her own vomit. "Are ya having fun now? Do ya like living like this?"
"I'm sorry," she mumbled, and the sounds of vomiting were heard again. "I... I won't do it again."
You bit your lip, almost tearing it off - how many times had you heard those words, and there was no truth to them, like wandering through a dark forest without a light, looking for a path. It was the same thing over and over again. "Wait here," you said, not sure why - she couldn't have disappeared in her condition.
Leaping out of the restroom and grabbing the first whole glass you could find, you went back in and filled it with water. "Drink," you commanded, shoving the glass under your sister's nose.
"I don't wanna," she tried to push your hand away weakly.
"I said drink," you grabbed her hair again, forcing her face up. As the water poured into her open mouth, Rachel leaned over the toilet again, choking.
They didn't want to leave you alone, the ringing of the phone hit your ears again, making you grit your teeth. "Speak."
"Young lady, what kinda tone is that?" resented Frank. Your insides dropped as you felt Rachel was about to throw up again.
"Sorry, Frank, I didn't see who was calling," you said absently, turning away and putting the receiver away from the source of the noise. "Look, lemme call ya back in an hour, 'kay? We're just at the bar with Rachel, it's not really convenient to talk right now."
"One hour," the man snorted angrily and hung up.
"Thanks," Rach mumbled and as you watched this, you slid down the wall, falling to the cold tile. Looking at her sweaty face and the wet red strands sticking to it, you were furious that you couldn't do anything about it. But if you couldn't do anything about it, then why were you even bothering with it? "I kinda feel better," she mumbled more clearly already, wiping her lips. "Let's go home."
Sighing, you grabbed her under the armpits, forcing her to stand. Rachel leaned on you like a personal prop, and you waddled away from the bar to the judgmental stares. When you reached the alley, you pulled your sister tighter against you.
"Relocate."
You fell onto the soft bed in your sister's room just as you'd been in the alley a second ago - tired, in dirty clothes and shoes. When you sensed something wrong, you moved Rach to the edge of the bed and rolled her onto her side, and went to the bathroom to get a basin, pour some water into a glass, and grab some micellar water.
Before Rachel threw up again, you managed to put the basin on the floor. Putting everything else on the nightstand, you began to undress her. Clumsily pulling off her sneakers, you couldn't lift her torso to pull down her pants. "Help me already," you groaned, tugging at her legs.
Grumbling to herself, Rachel lifted her hips, and you yanked off her jeans with. You realized you didn't have the energy for outerwear - let her sleep like that. Rach was still stirring restlessly, apparently never having fallen into slumber.
You sat down next to her, and after soaking a cotton ball in micellar water, you began to wash off her makeup. "Ya mad?" she asked weakly.
"Not really," you lied, trying not to take the anger out on her face.
You were smearing mascara and eyeliner all over her cheeks, and no one really knew how much absorbent cotton and micellar water it took you to wash it all off. Rachel was already breathing normally, though she was lying in an uncomfortable position - her right arm oddly bent over her face. But she seemed to be asleep.
You rolled her onto her side again, and praying that she would stay that way until morning and not choke on her own vomit, tried to crawl quietly off the bed. "Don't go," she begged quietly, grabbing at your sweater. "Lie with me for a while."
"Okay," you gave in to her helpless pleas and gently lay down on the other side of the bed.
Who knows how much strength it took for her to turn around to face you? "I miss ya," she sobbed.
You realized she wasn't talking to you at all. "I know. Go back to sleep."
There was nothing left in the room but your breathing. As she fell asleep, you knew that tomorrow Rachel would have a headache, and she would snap at everyone she met. You watched her face sink deeper and deeper into the pillow, her occasional smacking of her lips, her frown, and reassured yourself that maybe she was dreaming something good this time.
The warning signs were scattered around the kitchen. To be more precise, they were sitting there. Director Yaga stared in amazement at you coming down from the second floor, for he had been informed of your absence. "Mr. Director," you greeted him in a surprised but tired manner, glancing around at the others. There was Shoko, standing at the open window, blowing cigarette smoke, Yuji, who didn't look up from his desk, and Megumi, who had finally returned, alive and well. "Back?" you asked the boy, grinning approvingly. "Good. Go rest."
You probably said it to yourself - you were barely thinking. Automatically shuffling your feet, you headed for the workshop. "Y/N," a distressed voice stopped you.
Your face contorted instantly. Your eyes squeezed shut on their own and your lips pressed into a thin line against your will. 'Don't ya do this to me,' you begged silently someone who wasn't in this room.
Wiping the pain from your face with your hand, you took the only acceptable emotion you could muster. Benevolence. You turned around, and walking over to the table and standing in front of Megumi, you continued to pretend that everything was fine. "What is it?"
You refused to see the fear in Itadori's eyes, but you couldn't help but notice the fear in the black-haired boy's young features. Maybe if you hadn't looked so straight ahead, maybe if you'd known to look away, you wouldn't have seen the guilt.
Megumi refused to look you in the eyes - he was drilling a point near your neck, hiding his hands under the table. "I...," he began, but a gasp knotted his throat, and he clenched his teeth with such force that his tense jaw showed through his skin. "I'm... I'm- I'm so sorry," let it be his words - he was holding it together just fine, unlike Itadori. As soon as Megumi finished speaking, tears began to stream down Yuji's cheeks. It felt like molten metal had been poured into your lungs instead of air. It filled you from the inside out, rising higher and higher, coming up to your throat. "It's my fault," he admitted, reaching his hand out from under the table and handing you a silver bracelet.
You wanted to ask the boy a stupid but sincere question - whose bracelet was it? But as soon as you took it in your hand, you already knew the answer, for the size of the jewelry left no doubt as to who had once owned it.
"What...," you stammered, feeling the jewelry in your hands. It was warm, almost hot - apparently, Megumi had warmed it in his hands for a long time. "What happened?"
"Jonah brought more people to evacuate," the boy began in a trembling voice. "Kyle said we couldn't get everyone out at once. I insisted, though. I promised them I'd get them out," his eyes finally glistened, but not a single tear still fell. "I said I could take them out, but Kyle warned me that I couldn't take out six at a time. Then the people started... Th-they... They begged, begged me to take them out right now...," he sobbed, pressing himself harder against the back of the chair and lowering his gaze, hiding his face in his hand. "I convinced Kyle that I could do it. I really felt it," the boy pleaded, raising wet eyes to you. "He went to walk us to the rift, except...," he breathed intermittently and shallowly, swallowing thick saliva. "When we were close to the rift, it turned out they weren't people at all," he looked up at you, making sure you understood what he meant. "I wanted to stay, but he pushed me away, and I think I ripped it off him at that point," he glanced at the bracelet in your hands, licking his chapped lips. "First he pushed me away, then relocated me closer to the rift, and then I think he relocate himself, but...," stingy tears spilled from his eyes like begging atonement. "Before I went in, I turned around. They- They torn him ap-"
"I got it," you interrupted without listening to the rest of the story.
It was as if all the water had evaporated from your body - it was so dry it was hard to move your limbs, your eyes refused to blink, saliva pooled in your mouth as if you'd lost all your basic reflexes. "There's nothing ya can do now. Go to bed," you said blankly. Your gaze fell on the pack of cigarettes that was peering through the white robe of Shoko, who had approached you. Ieiri silently reached into the pocket, pulled out a cigarette and held it out to you, paired with a lighter. "Thanks."
It was a long walk to the window, for the floor underfoot was not parquet, but viscous glue. The phone rang for the umpteenth time, but you weren't angry or annoyed. You didn't care. That's what you thought, until you saw the name of the caller.
It was Frank.
You took a cigarette in your teeth and lit it, but you hesitated before answering the phone, your numb hands deliberately delaying the moment. The phone screen went out, but immediately lit up again. "Hey, Frank."
"It's been well over an hour," he sighed. "If ya can't call me back, at least send me a text so I don't worry-"
"Frank."
"Don't interrupt me, that's not what I taught ya," he frowned, reminding you of childhood admonitions. "How's Rachel doing? Have ya been watching her?"
"Frank," you tried again.
"Did she drink a lot?" the agitated man persisted. "She did something wrong, didn't she?"
"Frank!" you shouted into the phone. The silence was so empty and impersonal, only the waves crashing against the rocks reminded you what kind of world you were in. You took a puff for the first time in a long time. Your head was spinning, but you remained standing at the open panoramic window. "Kyle, he's... He's dead."
When you said it aloud, you brought it to life, bringing chaos not only to your soul, but to the souls of others as well. There was a long silence, and the sound of the waves began to subside along with the beating of the heart. It would have been better if Frank had never spoken, for instead of his words you heard only something mechanical, and the ringing in your ears made it impossible to make out what was said - past, future, anguish, joys, sorrows and moments of happiness - all merged together and seemed to sink into the bay before your eyes.
You threw away the burnt cigarette and pulled the silver bracelet out of your pocket; it was cool as it lost its warmth. There was no blood on it, no pieces of skin. You put it to your lips, hoping to feel Kyle again. It was no use. The jewelry gave off only your warmth.
You didn't immediately realize that Frank had gone silent. 'Yeah, okay,' you said on automatic. You seemed to hear the words 'Hopetown', 'funeral', 'two days'. Were 'two days' accurate? Did Frank say three? Did he say anything at all?
Before you could come to your senses and have time to ask again, Frank hung up. "Y/N," Principal Yaga's worried voice came from behind you. "Is there anything we can do for you?"
You lost your brother, and you are unlikely to ever see again those people who were first gifted with hope and then left in the void. "Yeah," you replied coldly, turning to look at those present. You were still desperately pressing the jewelry to your lips. "Your job."
Seeing the principal nod briefly, you walked past heading for the workroom, throwing all Kyle's hopes, plans, dreams, and silver bracelet into the trashcan.
next ⊳
#gojo satoru x you#jujutsu kaisen#gojo x reader#gojou satoru x reader#jjk angst#gojo angst#gojo fluff#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x y/n#gojo x you#gojou x reader#gojo satoru#gojo jujutsu kaisen#gojou#gojou fluff#gojou satoru x y/n#gojou satoru x you#gojou x y/n#gojou x you#jjk gojo#jjk gojou#jujutsu gojo#satoru gojo
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Pancakes for Dinner
inspired by the song of the same name by lizzie mcalpine.
a fetchen story as told by karen's letter to gretchen.
warning: light angst, possibly unrequited love
Gretch,
Hey. I know I haven't been in contact for weeks since I came home in India, and I'm really sorry for that. I thought I needed some space after graduation to figure things out for myself for a while especially now that high school is really over.
It kinda sucks, doesn't it? I thought life would be all good after Spring Fling in junior year, but somehow everything became different. Some are good different, others are bad different. Mostly good, though. At least we all graduated, and thanks to everyone, I didn't have to fall back a year to catch up with my grades.
Gretchie, I'm in the airport right now, waiting for my flight back to the US.
Funny how I've been riding airplanes since I was small and it still makes me nervous. I mean, it shouldn't be logical for a machine that heavy to be able to fly, right? It has no feathers like a bird, and its wings doesn't even flap. It just doesn't make sense, Gretch.
I am coming home. I plan to, at least. And I will be there by your side the next thing you know.
But in the rare case that I don't make it home, I want you to know something.
The truth is, all these years being by your side has been the best years of my life.
Sure, there are ups and downs especially when Regina gets cranky and lashes out on us, or when school sucks so hard that it's stressing us out. It was always you who held my hands though it all and made things better.
I love the days when it would just be the two of us hanging out. When we go to the mall and shop for clothes, when we go salons and have our nails done, when we go to festivals and carnivals and try on all the rides that we can go to, and take photos for our scrapbook.
I especially love it even when we're chilling in your house when your parents aren't around, on the couch wearing our pajamas with popcorns and colas in the table in front of us, a cheesy movie playing in the TV. You would always snuggle next to me, hold my hand underneath the blanket, and lay your head on my shoulder. You would fall asleep on the middle of our third movie and I would always be too scared to move, not wanting to wake you up and ruin your peace so I just sit still until the credits roll.
Days when you would sleepover at mine and we would talk and talk about everything and anything until the sun rises. How we would sneak downstairs in the middle of the night and make the kitchen our own little bubble. You would always pretend that the spatulas were microphones and sing random tunes just to keep me company while I cook pancakes for dinner. I would always be in awe of your voice and how you carry yourself when you perform as if you were on a stage, spotlight set on you, and there were only the two of us in the whole world that existed in that very moment.
I know you still love her, Gretch. It shows in the way you look at her and the way you cling to her every word. It has been like that for years but you just don't realize it. You would always say that you were just doing everything because you're a great friend. It's not like that, though. It hasn't been since ninth grade.
I know I was too much of a coward to say something, even now, I'm still scared. I don't want to taint whatever we have right now and risk losing it all. I can't lose you, Gretchen.
I don't want to keep on pretending that seeing you pay attention to someone else doesn't hurt. I don't want to keep on telling you that I'm happy you're with someone else when I'm clearly not.
But you couldn't have known.
Gretch, I don't want to say something, not yet, but I hope by now you probably have an idea what I'm trying to tell you. I can't be too forward in case it all comes crashing down on me and I don't think I can handle this going south, at least not right now.
I'll see you when I see you, and hopefully I'll finally be brave by then.
Always yours,
Karen.
#karen shetty#gretchen wieners#fetchen#mean girls#mean girls 2024#karen x gretchen#song fic#kinda#idk what to tag this i just whipped this out a couple of mins ago#dribble drabble#angst#light angst#?
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Hey Goldy! How are you? This is just super random, but someone shared a clip of Rosebowl Jikook, and can I just say how surreal it still feels that it actually happened? People were scrambling to explain that it was completely platonic, that it was an edit, that JK didn't suck JM's ear, that it was completely normal 🙄
I've heard about a certain clip where you could see a string of saliva, and yes, I saw it. Apparently, the big screen during the concert show you front and center when that happened and how you could literally see the string of saliva from JK's mouth to JM's ear. You could even see the sucking movement.
Imagine if Jikook have partners? Imagine seeing that and being okay w/ it?? And mind you, he did after towards the end of the concert, when they're sweaty and all.
People left and right, 24/7 camping on Jikook accounts writing long-ass essays and novels to say Jikook hate each other or whatever. You don't see us camping out on say tkk/yoonmin accounts to prove they're not real, don't you? I mean, sure, we correct misinformation when you're posting lies or manipulated clips for your non-existent ships (tkk/yoonmin/etc).
Even the companion system in the military still haunts these people until now. Suddenly, everyone is a fucking expert on Korean military?? If it was any other ship, I'm pretty sure we won't be hearing a thesis on why they're not together right now, how they're doing their things away from each other? Like, what happened to critical thinking and common sense? You'd think if Jimin and Jungkook didn't want to do their enlistment together, they wouldn't go through those damn hoops, including selecting the harshest division. They'd just do what everyone else did 😩
Do you think these uncultured and unloved people (haters/antis/toxic solos/tkkrs etc) would lose their mind even more once the Jikook travel show drops? Hope it drops this June 😭
If Jikook have partners they are the most non territorial non concerned non bothered group of people on the planet cos of if Jimin or Jungkook were mine I would have them quit their careers 😩
Like you can't be stressing me out with the constant dating rumors talking bout we just friends but you coming home every night with a hickey embarrassing me on the internet begging for a man's attention a man who looks like this by the way
Like where do I even begin to compete his ass is fatter than mine😩😩😩😩😩😩😩😩
You just friends but you out here having panick attacks when he puts you on voice mail
Boy didn't even eat the dinner I made him cos he's out there cooking for another man
He doesn't laugh at my jokes the way he does his and his jokes are not even funny 😤
In his spare time he's watching vlives of him with his fans and I swear I heard him call me Jimin one time when we were making love
I need a divorce. This is not working out
It's either me or him 😩
Mother fucker chose him 😩
I don't want to over sell the travel blog I'm very very curious about it but I know it won't disappoint.
And the way Jungkook had to come out here and tell us about the one moment makes it feel all the more sus to me
Feels like a preemptive strive so fans don't make a big deal out of them sharing a bed but baby boy WE WILL
It's jikook they send antis with into a frenzy with the barest minimum 🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭🤭
I won't expect anything less from those numbnuts
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Night comes to the camp.
Azul tries to be polite... in the way he understands what “polite” may be in this situation.
#twisted wonderland#azul ashengrotto#idia shroud#jade leech#idiazul#twst#well#this was a bit harder to translate than previous ones haha---#I'm still not sure if it makes sense!!! tell me if it doesn't!!!#I love the camp event#especially the second part aHAHA-#I never made art or comic about Idia finding the Amazing Stick That Gives Him +50 ATK#but this joke is already brilliant and I feel like I can't really contribute to it#so I think of other possible stupid and funny scenarios instead#and this is what I came up with. enjoy.#azul is awkward and idia is a scaredy-cat#also azul can't face the fact that HE's being the weird one here#well when you're a mermaid on land you're bound to do something seemingly 'weird' now and then huh#something like... agressively scratching your boyfriend's tent like you're a monster from the woods.#what an odd way to say hello I'm here#well... he's trying his best
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i wonder how kevin's fitness-obsessed mind justifies his alcohol addiction
#kevin day#aftg#all for the game#like does he think as long as his hangovers don't effect his court time its ok?#that doesn't really fit with the idea that he's a health freak outside court too#like you're telling me he doesn't see the irony of counting calories in decimals then downing a litre of straight vodka?#or is he just so addicted he cant stop?#i feel like he'd go for rehab if he thought it would influence his long term playing but that doesn't seem to be on his bucket list#like i get he'd be hopelessly addicted at the nest but now that his future seems to have some light i'm not sure why he still lets his#addiction destroy him slowly when he's thankfully now adamant on achieving a livable life#idk if this makes sense or if its been addressed somewhere else before but yeah i was just wondering#also sorry if this is inconsiderate or ignorant as to how addictions work i don't know the best
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if dorian didn't show up, do you think louis would have shot minnie?
I do. I know some people think either he wouldn't have or he would've missed so that's why the writers had him shoot Dorian instead, but mmmmmm no, I don't personally think so. I like to think that if he had taken the shot, his shaky hands would've caused him to shoot her fatally.
Mostly because I'm already so normal about the fact that of the Ericson crew, Marlon and Louis are the only ones with a body count. Well, that we know of, but shown to us in the game, at least. Plus, we know it's Louis' first kill.
Like yeah, Clementine and AJ become part of the crew and they have bigger body counts, and if we're counting indirect kills caused by actions, then Tenn has a count... and I guess everyone has blood on their hands for blowing up the boat... but I'm talking about killed directly with a weapon like....... I lied, I'm not normal about that at all, Louis and Marlon are the ones who have killed someone in Louis' route. I'm also not normal about the fact that Louis kills Dorian and then even as he's clearly in shock, he tries to go with Clementine to get AJ, and then later on when they talk about it, he says it feels like bile but not quite and he's glad he has it in him to do it.... listen, listen, listen... I'm obsessed with that.
Anyway, so if Louis shot Minerva, I think he would've accidentally killed her and can you imagine? He's already enough of a mess after killing the woman who pinned him down and tried to cut his finger off [or succeeded] but he knew Minerva, they were friends before the twins were taken. Even Violet couldn't kill her even though that would've been the smarter thing to do, and we know thanks to meta knowledge that killing her would've saved lives, but Violet couldn't, and I don't think Louis would intentionally either.
Speaking of Violet, if Louis killed Minerva, I hate to think about what that would've done to Vi. I think she might've actually left at that point, like what was planned before it got changed to her being burned. I don't think she would've attacked Louis over it, though, like yeah she attacked Clementine in the cell but Louis? I don't know, but I don't think so just because it's Louis and he'd be a mess about it anyway.
Though if he did kill her, it would be a neat parallel to draw... y'know, because Louis forgave AJ for killing Marlon even though he was pissed and heartbroken, and Violet was annoyed with him the entire time... but could she ever forgive Louis for killing Minerva? Y'know? We already have a similar parallel with AJ shooting Tenn, but still.
If Clementine killed Minerva in that moment, though, then I could see Violet attacking her since in her eyes, Clem proved her right.
So yeah, I get why they added the Dorian kill to his route. It adds another compelling element to Louis as a character, but we also need Minerva alive for episode 4; Louis can't kill her, he can't miss, and he's not going to stay with her because we need Violet to stay on the boat and him to be on shore for all routes.
#asks#twdg louis#twdg minerva#twdg clementine#twdg violet#twdg marlon#twdg tenn#honestly whenever i see someone say louis is the boring option i'm just like '.......that's your opinion but also how can you say that??'#then again i'm sure other people look at me saying violentine just isn't for me and they say the same thing so y'know... i can't talk haha#also time is such a weird thing because i look at the entire cell scene in louis' route and like... i'm not even mad about violet anymore#like yeah i still don't believe she was brainwashed like i'm sorry y'all only believe that because kent said something about it#not because there's all this evidence toward it in game like vi being pissed at clementine makes sense she doesn't need to be brainwashed#for it to work like her being vulnerable and easily manipulated into submission makes perfect sense especially with minerva there#it's like everyone was pissed that she attacked clementine and people needed a way to excuse it so it's not violet's fault when like...#that's literally what makes it interesting like calm down it's okay if violet is pissed and scared and behaves accordingly#also my controversial opinion of the day that i'll hide here in the tags so maybe people won't find it sksksk but#I personally find the concept of vinerva and the doomed tragedy of it more compelling than anything violentine did#like i'll defend violentine and i do believe it's an important and good ship it's just not my personal favorite#anyway but then the whole thing with lilly and minerva is so good and louis screaming FUCK YOU at minerva?? amazing love it so good#i love when the soft character who never chooses violence is so pissed off that all that anger they have boils to the surface and it's raw#like... he's SO mad he's SO furious he's SOOO UPSET like he wasn't even like this when marlon died or anything like he hit his limit#and then shooting dorian through the mouth while an accident is just well done i love it and i love his reaction of mortification#and apologizing and YET he still tries to go with clementine he's trembling and can barely string together a sentence but he wants to go#he wants to help her he wants to save aj THAT is the gut reaction he has after everything that just went down#'louis isn't loyal or good for clem because of the vote' babe tell me you don't understand any nuance of louis' character without telling m#it's fine IT'S FINE you don't have to agree and i just have to remind myself that it's fine not everyone likes louis we're okay#this drives me crazy in the best way like y'know what? i love the cells scene in louis' route all of it even the stuff i used to rant about#even the stuff that used to piss me off now i'm just like 'no wait past cj was dumb she wasn't looking at it this way aaaaaaaa' sksksks#that was my tag ted talk about the cell scene thank you
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Nah kill Endeavor midway and introduce new hero to take his role as the hero with new relevant story as No 1 like happened with Hawks and last minute additions like Star Stripe. Because Endeavor remains the only morally bad hero who is an example of what hero should not do in personal life using his job as a cover as Stain warned. His treatment of Inasa, taking on petty cases to increase numbers and being dumber than Iida who cracked the pattern faster magnified his behaviour as a shoddy hero driven by envy and prejudice and personal desires and not enough to call it justice as the subjective praisevsays about his heroics by people who have a personal reason to believe he was good as a hero and not disbelive it even in face of proof. His atonement didn't actually have narrative significance in the end either. If he was pulled out of their story, already Deku then Shoto then self-effort from hidden strength from hope due to Shoto alone was enough. He couldn't give them any actual closure or help. Endeavor in short had little to no big role other than being the cause of this apocalypse from a single video because he took the No 1 spot by default despite being wrong for it. The effect of the video was more positive in the long run by freeing them and making their stories valid by Endeavor's televised confession than how bad Toga or Gentle's families had it from being associated while Shoto seem happier having shared with all. They are also valid for unconditionally loving their son instead of being conflicted by his crimes which is Endeavor's fault to them as Shoto's thoughts went. Overall Endeavor's role is simply as the abuser who prevents his victims from taking heat and criticism from his fans by confessing because they all push him including Hawks and it is possible because the hero association are dead and won't issue a cover up to protect their overall image. But this confession could still be exposed in other ways using new characters or existing information technology known with Garaki Kyuudai had Hori wanted while keeping Endeavor bad which would have resulted in a better catharsis than leaving him sticking on to his victims.
Ok so another long break down.
Nah kill Endeavor midway and introduce new hero to take his role as the hero with new relevant story as No 1 like happened with Hawks and last minute additions like Star Stripe. Because Endeavor remains the only morally bad hero who is an example of what hero should not do in personal life using his job as a cover as Stain warned.
Killing Enji this way only works if the story becomes fully about Hero corruption, which it just isn't. All of the Heroes which had questionable attitudes toward Heroics changed their ways, or besides Enji just weren't that bad to begin with. Even if we leave Enji as a truly bad guy, he's one out dozens we see who are all good, so it doesn't even help prove the corruption angle much. Could this work--sure, but it'd change the story and it's themes drastically from what Hori's intentions seem to be--at that point it's not even his story.
On top of that we get no evidence Enji is using his job as a Hero as cover. Nor did Stain ever say anything about Heroes using their job to hide actual crimes. I love the guy, but all he cared about was people being Heroes that weren't 100% selfless. On top of that he just didn't even seem to check the Heroes he hunted out first, since we have no evidence Tensei was anything other then a great Hero who cared a lot about saving people. Stain didn't know about Enji's abuse and just hated him because he wasn't All Might.
His treatment of Inasa, taking on petty cases to increase numbers and being dumber than Iida who cracked the pattern faster magnified his behaviour as a shoddy hero driven by envy and prejudice and personal desires and not enough to call it justice as the subjective praisevsays about his heroics by people who have a personal reason to believe he was good as a hero and not disbelive it even in face of proof.
But Enji did crack Stain's pattern--that's why he and Shoto we in the city at all that night. He tells Shoto about it when they leave for Hosu. Shoto even says he only picks Enji's agency because he's a great at his job and despite his hate for him at that point, it'd be stupid to turn down learning from one of the best in the industry.
Enji never shows prejudice in the manga. The spin off made him OOC so he could function as a side antagonist for the later arc in the story, but in the main story he never acts that way. No, he was never great to fans because having fans was never his reason for being a Hero and he didn't understand how important it was to inspire people until he became #1.
I assume what you mean by disbelieving proof, you're talking about Touya's video during the first War. Honestly, people not believing Touya makes perfect sense in context. Enji was never super popular, but when a villain who has killed multiple people and is currently responsible for a major terrorist attack effecting dozens cities suddenly releases a video saying "Hey, this guy trying to stop me from killing everyone is actually bad, trust me, and therefore you should hate everyone who has the same job." it is hard to believe. Plus, people did did believe it, they just were more concerned about Enji failing to stop a massive terrorist attack that probably resulted in hundreds of casualties and displaced thousands of people, then the fact he abused his family--something that in the moment is nothing compared to all the lives lost.
Endeavor in short had little to no big role other than being the cause of this apocalypse from a single video because he took the No 1 spot by default despite being wrong for it.
Enji didn't cause the apocalypse, Shigaraki and the LoV did. Sure, Touya's video didn't help, but because it came out after most of the major damage was done it didn't have as much effect as it could have had if it had been released right after Enji got the #1 spot. People would have been angry at the Heroes and Enji anyway because so many people died and the LoV wasn't captured.
The effect of the video was more positive in the long run by freeing them and making their stories valid by Endeavor's televised confession than how bad Toga or Gentle's families had it from being associated while Shoto seem happier having shared with all.
We don't actually see the family show any positive emotions toward the video. In fact we see them having to hide from the public because they're now blamed for Touya's murders. Shoto can't even go and be with his friends when Izuku walks into U.A, and instead has to hang back with Enji who, I assume had to go in a back way due to all of the hate they were getting because of Touya's video. Shoto might not be upset with his friends knowing, but he was never super quite about his abuse either, given he spilled the beans to Izuku as quick as possible during the sports festival. We don't see if the rest of the family feels similarly at all.
They are also valid for unconditionally loving their son instead of being conflicted by his crimes which is Endeavor's fault to them as Shoto's thoughts went.
But they don't see Touya's crimes as Dabi as 100% Enji's fault. Shoto tells him it was wrong of him to involve other people. Natsuo tells him to stop and that he's being an idiot big brother. Fuyumi just doesn't want him to kill their mom and dad. Even when Shoto thinks "he is me" that implies he does consider Touya's actions his own, since Shoto always held himself responsible for his own poor choices, like being rude to Inasa. Just because they still love Touya doesn't mean they don't hold him responsible for his actions. Enji is at fault, yes, but at the end of the day Touya still decided to murder random people to fulfill his own plans of revenge.
Overall Endeavor's role is simply as the abuser who prevents his victims from taking heat and criticism from his fans by confessing because they all push him including Hawks and it is possible because the hero association are dead and won't issue a cover up to protect their overall image.
The family isn't getting shit on by Enji's fans though, nor does Enji admitting the video is true suddenly make people 100% fine with the other Todoroki's. People didn't hate on the family because they saw them as lying about the abuse because they love Enji to much--they were mad because they view them as extensions of Touya, who killed their loved ones and destroyed their homes. They also don't have to push Enji to do the press conference or admit his abuse. They push him to stay a Hero and help them stop/save Touya. That's why even after he admits to the abuse, Shoto is still shunned.
We also have zero evidence to suggest the Hero Commission ever covered up the abuse. Especially since Shoto has no problem telling Izuku about it.
But this confession could still be exposed in other ways using new characters or existing information technology known with Garaki Kyuudai had Hori wanted while keeping Endeavor bad which would have resulted in a better catharsis than leaving him sticking on to his victims.
Again, this only works if you fundamentally change the story Hori is trying to tell. He wants Enji to change and be a better person. You can not agree with that choice, but if we're taking about stuff an author could have done better you have to try and stick to what they want the story to be. We still don't know 100% what Hori is trying to say because the ending hasn't come out yet, but so far Enji atoning seems to be a big part of the overall message of the story. If that is the case you have to try and find fixes that stick with that vision, otherwise you're just writing your own story, not just making editing suggestions to make the current work better.
#ask#todoroki enji#bnha spoilers#bnha#mha#endeavor#there are times I've said it might have been better to keep Enji an asshole#but that's more out of frustration then because I think it'd actually work#at least for the story Hori wants to tell#that's why my actual suggestions for genuine changes that could help revolve around keeping Enji as is#but letting him have a bit more meaningful progress#while keeping it small so he doesn't change to much#and can still play the same role#I do the same thing for the LoV#part of me does sort of just wish they'd die because of how poorly Hori wrote them#but that's clearly not the story he's trying to write#so my suggestions are generally tweaks that could have the message he wants to send with them work better#and not cause such divides in the fan base#and I'm sure they miss alot given I live in a totally different culture then Hori#so what i think doesn't work might make total sense in Japanese literature
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it's so weird to me that a lot of people seem to think that mike genuinely meant to be homophobic during the rain fight? they think he's that mean and that he thought it through and went out of his way to act like their middle school bully because his best friend tangentially called his girlfriend stupid? and not...that it was a poor choice of words? maybe i just have too much faith in humanity but i literally couldn't brainwash myself into interpreting it like that...and neither could will
#does it come off as homophobic? yeah sure but with the context you Obviously KNOW that that's not what he meant#i know i'm like two days late i was just thinking about it...team twt mlvns (and normal bylers) on this one like#i mean i hope will would have enough self-respect to not let himself fall deeper in love with a guy he thinks is homophobic#and paint him as his knight in shining armor and tell him he makes him feel better for being different like...lmao#sure he couldn't have stopped it that easily because he's really in love with him whatever i believe in him he would have done it#and of course it's still shitty and of course will thought he meant it like that for a second and this and everything else mike tells him#still makes him feel awful and of course it was supposed to clue the audience in on the fact that will Really doesn't like girls but?#and i don't even really think it was projection that interpretation doesn't make that much sense to me like idk it doesn't click in my#brain i really just think he meant...that will didnt like girls...because he'd been going on about it being a day free of girls and getting#annoyed with lucas and mike for wanting to talk to the girls. like he was not liking girls the way 14-year-olds who aren't interested in#romance don't like girls which is why that was the official meaning of that line for three years lmao#i do think mike not liking girls himself is ironic and funny and makes the line work really well#but yeah idk#also if you do think he MEANT to be homophobic why do you even like him and why do you want him to be with will😭#i really didn't know people thought he was being homophobic on purpose until last year and i was like wait...do we really think that?#and like i say: brf slt
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(click to enlarge. there wasn’t room on the meme for me to make the disclaimer that yes obviously a big portion of stede’s obliviousness is straight up born from being a wealthy white dude with no real-world experience and i’d never discount that.
i just think it makes sense that he sucks at actually communicating and that he’s used to not thinking about other perspectives, and i think it makes sense that through meeting ed, who likes and wants to get to know him off the bat, he does improve his social game on the ship enough to be accepted and protected by his crew in the end
and also that any take on stede that states he sees himself as important is wild to me when it couldn’t clearly be farther off from what canon shows us about him.)
#ofmd#our flag means death#stede bonnet#he didn't think i was supposed to be a lighthouse to my family they must surely be lost without me#he thought i was supposed to be that and i couldnt and i am a failure who couldnt even talk to them about it i ruin everything#does he make decisions that negatively impact the people around him without communicating first? god yeah#but its more likely to come from a place of low self worth#men who think they are important and valuable dont agree that they defile everything they touch and stand still to allow their own murder#anyway idk i keep thinking about this lately#stede's a whole fucking disaster of a human and it makes sense to me that he sucks at this stuff#even set aside from his obvious class privilege#he does not FIT in that society he learned it was easier on him to stop TRYING to improve in that a long time ago#he's fucked over by inexperience and toxic masculinity telling him all the things that he Should Be#he was never going to be a cool involved husband to mary he was never going to risk reaching back when she reached out#(and i mean at that point reaching back out would have meant staying and i think by then he was kinda at his limit)#im not saying he's right in how he goes about stuff like fully the opposite he makes some shit choices#i'm just saying i'm tired of the lack of nuance#he knows textbook manners textbook etiquette and doesn't know what healthy relationships look like or feel like
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#midnight thoughts before going to bed (feel free to ignore)#but today i realized two major things about myself and my mental illness#1. i was reminded that when you have an anxiety disorder your body has a hard time telling the difference between anxiety and excitement#and suddenly my whole life made sense lol#the amount of times i didn't do something that i really wanted to do because it caused me MAJOR anxiety#and it was probably excitement actually but my body went into full fight or flight mode#and 2. i realized that my masking is actually causing me physical pain#like this is of course of i am actually autistic. i still feel like i can't say i am cause i have no right you know?#but objectively i'm like 98% sure i have autism#ANYWAYS masking is usually just forcing eye contact or not stiming in public (as much)#but today i realized that when i hear loud noises or too many at the same time my instinct is to cover my ears#but i don't because that's ''weird'' or will make people ask questions that i don't really know how to answer#so i don't cover my ears i just sit through it in actual pain and hope for the best#and the worst part of this is that when i say ''masking in public'' i mean in my own damn home#because of my mom and the fact that she doesn't believe i have issues#i think it's my fault tho i shouldn't have mentioned my self diagnosis while we were watcing the good doctor (and later attorney woo)#because those two are her only reference for what autism is/looks like and i'm not like that#i mean for the most part... the good doctor was the reason i realize i might be autistic#and woo's struggle with revolving doors hit a bit too close to my heart lol#but anyways...#i need to deal with my out of control anxiety#and i'm pretty sure i am autistic...#those are the conclusions of this post lol#angel talks#personal
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If I'm not careful, I'm going to get salty about stupid music opinions again.
#OTHER people's music opinions. not mine. MINE are great OBVIOUSLY.#OKAY OKAY. people can disagree with me over the quality of art that is ALWAYS 100% FINE#I just...idk. you can usually tell when the opinions are based on a sense of entitlement and elitism and like...EXTREMELY bad-faith#interpretations? most music opinions I disagree with are from the standpoint of just.#not understanding what the artist was trying to do or willfully ignoring the good parts because it wasn't specifically what YOU the#INDIVIDUAL LISTENER wanted.#(or--not quite as common but still prevalent--refusing to acknowledge the bad because that makes you feel better)#the thing is. when people who ACTUALLY thoughtfully put together lists/opinion pieces--critics like todd or diamond axe studios#or mr 96--even if I disagree with them they make their case in clear terms to the point where I see where they're coming from#you know like *I* didn't see the song this way (for good or for bad) but I can see how THEY would#plenty of people uh...do not approach music opinions like that lol. they'll just#call a band/artist a sell-out without looking at the wider context of their discography or evaluating possible reasons WHY#they would choose to move in that musical direction. they also. MUCH OF THE TIME. don't clarify what they MEAN when they say that either#(also people are waaaaaayyy too precious about clear genre divisions imo but. I don't have the brainspace to fully discuss that rn)#like ''sell-out'' doesn't mean 'has a poppier or more electronic sound' I'm gonna have to put that term on the shelf with the rest of them#unhinged lady screams about music#ugh I really gotta finish that 'discussing the best and worst of the punk goes pop/rock/etc. albums' project I started#(remember those? they sure were a thing that happened!)#maybe THAT'S the New Year's Resolution™ finish a fucking music critique video like I keep saying I will
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