Over snow-blasted mountains and amongst the trees of tangled forests, hiding from the enemies that prowled the skies. Through long, bitterly cold nights where the wind howled as it tried to wipe out any trace of that flame.
But the wind did not succeed, not against the flame of the queen.
So hearth to hearth, it went.
To remote villages where people screamed and scattered as a young-faced woman descended from the skies on a broom, waving her torch high.
Not to signal them, but the few women who did not run. Who walked toward the flame, the rider, as she called out, "Your queen summons you to war. Will you fly?"
Trunks hidden in attics were thrown open. Folded swaths of red cloth pulled from within. Brooms left in closets, beside doorways, tucked under beds, were brought out, bound in gold or silver or twine. And swords-ancient and beautiful—were drawn from beneath floorboards, or hauled down from haylofts, their metal shining as bright and fresh as the day they had been forged in a city now lying in ruin.
Witches, the townsfolk whispered, husbands wide-eyed and disbelieving as the women took to the skies, red cloaks billowing. Witches amongst us all this time.
Village to village, where hearths that had never once gone fully dark blazed in answer.
Always one rider going out, to find the next hearth, the next bastion of their people.
Witches, here amongst us. Witches, now going to war.
A rising tide of witches, who took to the skies in their red cloaks, swords strapped to their backs, brooms shedding years of dust with each mile northward.
Witches who bade their families farewell, offering no explanation before they kissed their sleeping babes and vanished into the starry night.
Mile after mile, across the darkening world, the call went out, ceaseless and unending as the eternal flame that passed from hearth to hearth.
"Fly, fly, fly!" they shouted. "To the queen! To war!"
Far and wide, through snow and storm and peril, the Crochans flew.
Summary: Peter is home late from work again and he's growing increasingly desperate to keep his marriage together. Warnings: Angst, fluff, smut, pathetic yearning, thoughts of baby-trapping.
The wind had a way of finding every crack in the single-pane windows, a low, persistent whistle that had become the constant, unwanted soundtrack of your life in Ennis. You were sitting at the small kitchen table, a half-empty mug of coffee long since gone cold cradled in your hands, when you heard the familiar crunch of tires on the gravel-and-ice driveway. The sound didn’t make your heart leap; it just made you tired in a deeper, more bone-weary way. It was the sound of the end of another day that felt exactly like the one before it.
You didn't get up. You just listened to the heavy thud of his boots on the porch, the stomp-stomp to knock off the clinging snow, the click of the door. A gust of frigid air that smelled of diesel and cold metal swept into the small house, instantly swallowed by the dry, recirculated heat. Peter Prior stood in the doorway, still in his blue Alaska State Trooper jacket, his face ruddy from the cold, exhaustion etched into every line around his eyes and mouth. His brown hair was a mess from his hat. He looked at you, and for a moment, he just stood there.
“Hey,” he said, his voice a little rough from a long shift spent mostly in silence.
“Hey,” you echoed, your voice flat. You didn't move to greet him. The cold from the open door had already made you shiver inwardly. He closed it with a soft, final click, sealing you both back in. The small house felt smaller still with him in it because of the sheer weight of all the things that hung unsaid in the air between you. Things that had been building for months.
He shrugged off his jacket, hanging it on a peg by the door. In his uniform pants and a long-sleeved thermal shirt, he crossed the room to you. He leaned down to kiss your cheek, his lips cold and chapped. You didn’t turn your head to meet them.
“Long day?” you asked, but it wasn’t really a question. It was a placeholder. Every day was a long day for him. And every day was an eternity for you.
“Yeah,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “The usual. Darrien’s still a ghost, Danvers is on the warpath about the Tsalal files, and Connelly’s breathing down our necks from Anchorage. It’s a mess.” He moved to the sink. “What about you?”
The question, so simple, so domestic, was the spark that lit the powder keg. You let out a short, humorless laugh. “What about me?” you repeated, your voice gaining an edge that made him freeze. “I think I watched the same flake of snow drift from the top of the window to the sill. That took about an hour. Then I re-read two chapters of a book I’ve already read three times because the library only gets new books in when someone dies and their relatives donate them. After that, I applied for another job online, this time for a bookkeeping position at the mine, which I’m sure I’ll be spectacularly unqualified for because my degree, and they’ll hire another miner’s nephew anyway. So, to answer your question, Peter…it was a very, very long day.”
The silence that followed was as cold and expansive as the tundra outside. Peter set a glass down on the counter with a quiet clink, his head bowed. You could see the tension coiling in his shoulders, in the way his back straightened. He wasn't angry. He was bracing. This was a fight you’d had a dozen different ways, a dozen different times.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, and the two words were so freighted with guilt and a profound sadness that it almost made you feel worse. He finally turned to face you, and the look in his eyes was one you knew well. It was the look of a man holding onto a rope with bloodied, aching hands, terrified the moment he loosened his grip, he’d fall into a bottomless abyss. It was the look of a man who was terrified of the day you’d look at him and tell him you didn’t love him anymore. Terrified of the day you’d tell him he was wasting your life.
You hated this town. You loathed it with a passion that surprised even you. The endless dark, the soul-crushing cold, the smell of the mine that permeated everything, the feeling of being trapped at the edge of the world. You never wanted to live here. You had come because Peter lived and worked here, and you loved Peter. You loved him with a fierceness that was your only source of warmth in this frozen place. But you could feel that love, that fire, being slowly smothered by the oppressive reality of Ennis. And the worst part was, you knew he could feel it, too. He could see the light inside you dimming, day by day, and he blamed himself for it.
“You always say you’re sorry,” you murmured, looking down at the wood grain of the table. “It doesn’t change anything.”
He crossed the space between you and knelt beside your chair. His hands, still cold, closed over yours, pulling them from the coffee mug. “I know. I know it doesn’t. God, I know.” His thumbs stroked the backs of your hands. “Let me…let me try to make it up to you. Just for tonight. Please.”
His plea was broken, a raw nerve exposed. He wasn’t asking for forgiveness. He was asking for a reprieve. For both of you. He looked up at you, his eyes were wide and pleading, filled with an almost unbearable tenderness. He was afraid. He was so deeply, fundamentally afraid of losing you.
You could have stayed cold. You could have pulled your hands away and walked to the bedroom alone, leaving him there on the floor. But the exhaustion in your bones was a shared one. And beneath the frustration, the love was still there, a sleeping giant you were too tired to rouse but couldn’t bear to slay. You gave a single, tired nod.
He rose, gently tugging you up with him. He led you down the short hallway to the small bedroom, a room that felt more like a cell than a sanctuary. The bed was made, a small act of normalcy you forced yourself to perform each morning. He reached for the hem of your sweater, and you let him pull it over your head. He undressed you, his cold fingertips trailing down your arms, your sides, raising goosebumps on your skin. He didn’t rush. He was trying to pour every ounce of feeling he had into the act, a physical apology. He shed his own clothes, letting them fall to the floor in a heap, and you were both just shadows in the dim light.
You took his hand, and he gently guided you down. He looked both defeated and utterly determined. He nudged you onto his lap, helping you to straddle him. The cold of the wall at his back was a stark contrast to the searing heat of his skin where your thighs met his. His body was a landscape you knew by heart: the soft, sparse hair on his chest, the lean muscle of his arms, the constellation of old, faded scars on his hands from a life lived outdoors. He leaned his head back against the wall, his eyes fixed on your face, never wavering.
He reached for you. “C’mere,” he coaxed, a low, husky murmur. His hands guided you with an unyielding gentleness. He nudged you again, a silent, encouraging pressure, until you understood what he wanted. He was offering himself to you, putting you in control. It looked like he was giving you the reins to do as you pleased, to take what you needed, to use him for your own pleasure.
But you knew him. You knew the man you married. You settled your weight onto his lap, feeling the hard, hot length of him press against your core, still separated by the damp cotton of your underwear, his arms came around you. One hand splayed wide on your back, right between your shoulder blades, the other locked around your waist, his fingers pressing into the soft flesh of your hip. This wasn’t about giving you control. This was a cage of muscle and bone and desperate love. He was terrified to let you go, even an inch. The action screamed what he couldn't bring himself to articulate: Don’t leave me. Don’t get up. Don’t go away.
You lifted your hips just enough to push your underwear aside, and he watched, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. You sank down onto him, a slow, inexorable descent. A broken sigh shuddered out of him, his head falling back against the wall with a soft thud. His eyes, however, remained fixed on you, and in them, you saw it all. It looked like misery. His brow was furrowed, his lips were pressed into a thin line, and the effort of letting you set the pace seemed to be causing him physical pain. But his eyes…oh, God, his eyes were pools of pure, aching, incandescent love. He looked at you like you were the only star in a permanently black sky, the only source of light and warmth in his cold, dark world.
You began to move, a slow, deep rocking that made you gasp. His fingers dug into your flesh, not to guide, but to anchor himself. His arms tightened, a living vice, pulling you harder against him, closer, deeper. The charade of control evaporated. A frantic energy began to build in him, his hips bucking up to meet your downward thrusts, creating a rhythm that was less a collaboration and more a mutual, desperate clinging.
“I love you,” he groaned, the words torn from somewhere deep in his chest. It wasn’t a declaration, it was a prayer, a plea, a frantic incantation. “I love you so much.” His thrusts became more urgent, more powerful, driving up into you as he whimpered, a high, broken sound of pure, unadulterated need. “Don’t leave me. Please. I love you. God, I love you.”
He was babbling now, his face buried in the crook of your neck, his breath hot and ragged against your skin. You could feel the frantic beat of his heart slamming against his ribs, a frantic percussion against your own chest. Your own climax broke over you with a sudden, blinding intensity, a white-hot sun finally burning through the months of twilight. You cried out, your body clenching around him, and the sensation pushed him over the edge.
With a final groan of your name, he surged up, burying himself to the hilt, and you felt the hot, pulsing spill of him deep inside you. He held himself there, rigid as stone, his entire body trembling with the force of his release. And then, a profound stillness fell, broken only by your ragged, mingled breathing.
He didn't let go. He didn’t move to pull out, didn’t loosen his grip. His arms, still locked around you, trembled with a post-coital fatigue and a persistent, unshakeable fear. If he could just hold on, if he could keep you this close, maybe he could stop the slow drift, maybe he could permanently fuse you to him.
In the profound quiet, his mind, finally untethered by the relentless demands of the job, began to race down a treacherous, hopeful path. He thought of you, here, at home. Home all day. The silence that plagued you, the loneliness. An image, unbidden and breathtaking in its clarity, bloomed in his mind. A crib in the corner of the spare room. The smell of baby powder. The sound of a cry that would shatter the oppressive quiet, a cry that wasn’t the wind but life. A child. His child. Your child.
It would be something to bind you to him, a tether of flesh and blood, far stronger than any vow, a piece of him that you would hold and love unconditionally. You were so full of love, he could see it, a trapped, furious light inside you. What if you could pour that light into someone who wasn’t just him, a man who was clearly failing you? A part of him, a new, innocent part you could pour all that frustrated love into. It would make you stay. It would give you a reason. It would make this frozen, hostile place a home.
He opened his eyes, the words forming on his lips. He looked at your face, your closed eyes, your breath slowly evening out. He had just taken everything from you, your body, your anger, your pleasure. He had given you everything he had in return. And now he was thinking of asking for more.
The mirage cracked just as quickly as it formed. He looked at you, at the weary slump of your shoulders even now, in his arms. He thought of the light that had faded from your eyes, a light he remembered so vividly from before Ennis. A child wouldn't just be a tether; it would be an anchor, shackling you completely to a life that was already crushing your spirit. He would be asking you to give up the last, faint glimmer of escape, of a different life. You were already sacrificing so much just by being here. Could he really, in good conscience, ask you to sacrifice more? To give your body, your future, your entire being over to a life, just to soothe his own gnawing terror of being alone? Was his love not already selfish enough? The thought of him being the one to fully and irrevocably ruin your life, to take your future and bury it in the permafrost of this godforsaken town, was a sickness that settled in his gut.
How could he even consider bringing a child into that fear, into this world of permanent twilight? You’d resent him forever, and you’d be right to. He was afraid he had ruined enough of your life already. So, he swallowed the words. He bit down on the fantasy so hard he could almost taste the blood. He kept the vision of a small, swaddled baby, of a giggling toddler pattering down this very hallway, locked in a vault deep inside his heart. He wouldn’t say it. He couldn’t. He had already asked for the world from you. He had taken the sun from you. He wouldn’t ask for the moon and the stars, too.
He held them inside, where they joined the cold and the fear and the desperate love, a secret, glowing ember he would carry alone. He pressed a trembling, reverent kiss to your temple, pulled the duvet up around you both.
He held you tighter, if that was even possible, his nose pressing into your hair, inhaling the scent of you, a scent that was the only thing that felt like home in this entire, frozen wasteland. He said nothing, his silence an act of both profound love and deep-seated cowardice. The wind continued to howl outside, a mournful, ceaseless cry over the endless dark, but inside the small, cold house, Peter Prior held his whole world in his arms, trembling, and prayed to any god that would listen that she wouldn't slip away.
a/n: Is this anything, guys? Finn Bennett's characters are just plaguing my mind.
a/n: Voluntary donations are accepted on Ko-fi, your support helps me write more: https://ko-fi.com/catbayunthestoryteller <3
Mama Mia (Here I go again) (Chapter 1: Does your mother know)
Word Count: 5.1k
Warnings: Unplanned Pregnancy (not explicit)
Summary: With an unplanned pregnancy affecting her ability to return home, Yuu decides to stay in Twisted Wonderland to raise her child. The problem however, was that she was unsure who the father of her child was. It could be the second prince of the Sunset Savannah, Leona Kingscholar. Or perhaps the actor and model, Vil Schoenheit. Or even the prince of Briar Valley, Malleus Draconia. Whichever the case, Yuu decides to take on the responsibility alone- and raise her daughter Yume, without the father knowing.
None of this would come to light though until her daughters 10th birthday party...
Notes:
Im supposed to be working on Eternal Youth rn- but lowkey got writers block and just wanted to write something fun/comical and light with no stress/worries. Not writing this to be my most amazing piece of liturature- but to just have fun. Enjoy!
“Are you certain of this? Everything you have worked towards- your goal since you’ve came to this land, has been to return home. And now, we are so close- nearly at the finish line.” Crowley said. His voice sounded like he pitied her- and even through he was commiserating with her new set of circumstances, it did little to make her feel better.
Because the truth was; she wasnt sure of her decision. Every single day, she teetered on the edge of wondering if she was doing what she felt was right or if she was making a mistake. More often than not, in the back of her head, she was close to changing her mind. Just him asking her that, reminding her of her home- the life she had left behind- made a lump form in her throat- words unsaid that were urging to leave her mouth. She breathed in deeply- calming her nerves as she composed herself, swallowing down the lump. It would do no good to doubt everything now that it was all said and done. She couldnt change what has happened.
So- she decided to hear out what her options were now. It was all she could do… “And… if I do decide I want to go home? What then?” She pursed her lips- thinking about adding more onto her question- clarifying her worry- but it was unneeded as Crowley gave her a small, but sad smile.
“Well… your child will be part of this world. It will have no place in your past life.” Crowley replied. “In short; it will be impossible for the child to accompany you back to your world- if you choose to return still.”
She knew this- knew this would be his response, had expected it- and yet still; she had held out hope. Hope that she would be wrong… but it was foolish for her to think that she could take one last reminiscence of this world. A world she had come to love just as deeply as the one she had came from. How long had it been since she had come here? 6 years? Almost 7? After she had graduated from Night Raven College, she had stopped keeping track.
And then… she had made a mistake- Well, really, three mistakes. In hindsight, who would have ever predicted this is what would happen? Her mother, certainly- who had warned her against having unprotected sex. And now, she would deal with the consequence- for she knew, even if her mind went back and forth, she could never abandon her child here.
“I… I cant then.” Yuu said with finality, the last of her doubt and hope leaving her mind. It was as if letting go of it all- and now, being able to mourn her old life- that she was able to have much more clarity. She could breath, she could truly now live and accept the world around her as hers now- because it wouldnt just be her world, but her childs home. She looked to Crowley, at peace with it. “Thank you… for atleast trying… I suppose now, all I can do is make the best life I can for myself and my child.” she looked down at her stomach- which concealed her fate, and would only grow over the next couple of months.
The next question in her mind was where she would even go. She had resided on Sage’s island ever since she had been brought to this world- knowing no other home. But it wasnt like she could raise a child on a school campus.
There was a pause of silence before Criowley asked: “And what of the father? Would I be overcrossing a boundary to ask weather the child's father is present?”
That was a difficult question- where would she even start with that. “No…” She replied. “The father will not be involved.” It wouldnt be fair- especially when she didnt even know who the father was. But she wouldnt admit that- especially not to Crowley! She had not even told Grim the truth… He didnt need to know anything other than that she wouldnt be returning home because she was pregnant. That was it.
“Well, luckily for you- My generosity know’s no bounds! And because of all of the assistance and dedication you’ve offered the school over the years you have been here, I will grant another gift.” Yuu frowned- confused on what he was referring to. She knew she had stopped a multitude of disasters over the past couple of years she had been here- especially in her first year when she had stopped seven overblots- but what gift could he give her that would make a difference?
She decided to take the bait. “Oh yeah? And what is that?”
“Well, the school owns a couple of buildings within town- some of which we rent out. Now- I know you do not have the funds currently to rent, however perhaps we could come up with another compromise?” A compromise…? “There is currently a storefront for a cafe, which closed down around a decade ago and hasnt reopened since. Well… its been popular demand that it be brought back- however, I was never able to find someone to manage the store… until now. How would you like to run the cafe?” Yuu was speechless- her mouth opening and closing as she tried to figure out what to say. “I would grant you funds for food and necessities ofcourse- and there is an apartment above the storefront that you can board in… I ask that you just consider it.”
There wasnt much to consider through. It was the best option she had heard in a long time; she would live in a familiar place, relatively safe- she would be able to have a job, a place to live, a stead source of income… it was all she could ask for really. So- she didnt need time to consider it- she knew what her answer was. “I accept.”
────•⋅⊰༻ 9 years later ༺⊱⋅•────
“Yume- you’re gonna be late!” Yuu called upstairs- receiving no reply back.
In a month, it will have been 10 years since her daughter had been born. 10 years of living on Sage’s Island and running the coffee shop for Crowley. 10 years of ups and lows- and coming to grieve, mourn and unteather herself from her old world. It had been easier than she imagined when Yuu not only had herself but her daughter and Grim to think of now. “Grim-” Yuu’s companion poked his head up from the blanket where he rested on one of the many booths in the coffee shop area downstairs. He blinked grogily and let out a yawm- as she pointed up. “Please go get Yume- she is going to be late for school if she isnt down in the next two minutes.”
“Yume! You’re gonna be late!” Grim repeated, yelling upstairs as well, and Yuu put her hands on her hips with a look of irritation.
“Thanks Grim- I could have done tha-” But then there was the sound of small footsteps on the stairs, the sound of a child running down the stairs.
“Im coming!” A high pitched voice called out, and sure enough, in entered her daughter- dressed with her backpack on her back. She had dressed herself, and though she was a little younger than 10 years old, she looked neatly put together. “Im ready to go.”
“Good! Say goodbye to Grim and lets go-” Yuu said as she rushed towards the door. Yume took her time though as she approached their companion.
“Bye Grim!” Yume reached down and gave a big hug to Grim- who accepted it graciously and patted her back the best he could with his paws.
“Bye kid- go and learn something.” He gave another yawn, stretching his back in a similar manner to a cats after Yume let him go.
“I will!” She chirped and ran towards Yuu, running out the door. Yuu pointed at Grim, expectantly.
“Im taking her to school. When I get back, you better be awake and the machines better be running. We open in less than an hour and they need atleast 30 minutes to get hot and going.” She reminded him, but he squashed her worries as he leaped down and walked towards the kitchen.
“Im going, im going.” He grumbled. Yuu smiled, closing the door behind her. She knew he didnt like to wake up early, and yet, without fail for the last few years, he has woken up early to help her set up the shop- even if with a few complaints every now and again. Yuu walked up ahead, finally catching up to Yume, who’s short legs had made it such a far distance without her. Once she finally caught up, Yume held out her hand to Yuu, to hold her hand as they walked- which Yuu took.
“Mama-” Yume started, and Yuu let out a hum that she was listening as they walked the quiet streets. It was early enough in the morning that there was hardly anyone else out and about- especially students from the nearby schools- but not so early that there was no sun. The only people who occupied the streets were the locals and other store owners who were setting up before opening. “My birthday is coming up!”
“Yes it is dear.” Yuu replied. A dog crossed their path, with its owner following behind with a leash. They halted before continuing their walk.
“I know what I want for my birthday…” Yume’s voice drifted off- unsure of herself. Yuu looked down to her daughter, now intrigued.
“And what would that be?”
“I want to know who my father is. I want him to come to this birthday…” Yume asked, and Yuu stopped in her tracks- startled. She knew this would come one day, the day her daughter grew up and would understand the difference between her peers having a two parent household, compared to her own household of just Yuu and Grim. Maybe when she was 5, that was enough, but now… and Yuu could not fault her for it either.
“Well, that is…” she didnt even know where to start, or how to respond. “Your father… loves you very much- but wont be able to come.” Yuu lied- because she couldnt admit just yet that her father- whoever he was- did not know she existed. But Yume wouldnt just leave it at that- she pressed the issue, her own curiosity now outgrowing the answers that Yuu had always supplied her daughter with. That her father was ‘a busy person’, or that ‘he would meet her one day’. But it was no longer good enough.
“But why not? Why cant he come? And dont say its because he is busy- how can he be so busy he cant make time for me?” Yuu pursed her lips. She could see how distraught her daughter was about this- and so, this time, she decided to tell her something equivalent to a truth.
Yuu stopped, pulling her daughter off to the side of the sidewalk, as she crouched down to look her in her eyes. Eyes that looked exactly like her own. Perhaps if Yume even had a hint of her father’s features in her, Yuu would have been able to determine who he was, but fate would have it that she looked like a replica of her mother. “He is a very, very important person Yume. Many people look to him, depend on him, and… well, we need him a little less than other’s do.” It wasnt a lie- it was the truth no matter who she thought of. “Besides, dont be too bummed. Uncle Ace and Deuce are making a special trip to come and celebrate with us!” She could see the disappointment still evident on her child’s face- so she rubbed her shoulders up and down to soothe her. “Im sorry- Is that okay?”
Yume was quiet for a short while, before breathing out and nodding. “Its okay, Mama.” She said. “I understand…”
────•⋅⊰༻♥༺⊱⋅•────
However, there is the thing about children: though they might say one thing, they dont mean it. And with Yume- even though she had told her mother she understood- she did not. In her mind, what could be more important that a birthday? Especially her 10th birthday. There was nothing more important than that- and so, she decided that if her mother would not treat this with the urgency is required, then she would.
At first, she was faced with the biggest problem; who was her father? Her mother had never given her a name, a homeland, anything that hinted at who he was exactly to narrow down the search. So, Yume turned to the next best thing after the internet- her mothers private journals. It was brilliant really- and if her mother wouldnt be angry at her for snooping through her belongings, she might have been proud of Yume for being so smart.
Yume opened a box with dust that had gathered on it that had been sitting in the storage room for as long as she could remember. It was a box of belongings that her mother had stored away years ago- things from her years at Night Raven College. On top of the box, in black marker, was a list of things that were tucked away; uniforms, old books, and journals. Journals that possibly contained all the answers to her neverending list of questions that had accumulated since she was 5.
There were only three journals really- not a lot- and there was little written in each of them. The first was written like a fantasy book- perhaps a story her mother had written when she was younger. A story about someone being tossed into a world where they did not belong, and defeating magic that corrupted a persons being- things of fiction. It was then in the next journal, after her mother had graduated from school that Yume found something more tangible in terms of answers; she found names. She recognized some of the names; her uncle Deuce and Ace, her uncles Epel, Jack and Sebek… and then there were some names she didnt recognize. Three names in particular that came up multiple times.
The first was Vil Schoenheit- a name that was very familiar to Yume. He was in some of her favorite movies- and appeared on Television more times than she could count. If he was her father, it would make sense what her mother had said about him being an important person- and Vil Schoenheit most certainly was a very big and important person.
The next was Leona Kingscholar. She did not recognize him, and so she did what everyone did; she looked up his name. There, she found he was the second prince of the sunset savannah. She gasped, giggling excitedly at the idea. That would also make him an ideal candidate- another important person who would hypothetically be too busy to make it to her birthday party. And if he was her father- that could make her a princess! Another loud giggle, as she clutched her tablet-
“Hey, whats all the laughter about?” Grim asked, causing Yume to let out a yelp and cover her tablet and the journal with a nearby pillow.
“Nothing!” She answered quickly. ‘Im just… watching a funny video!”
Grim looked at her, suspicious of her answer, before shrugging and walking into the kitchen. After she could hear his footsteps become further and further, she let out a sigh of relief. She grabbed the journal from underneath the pillow once more and opened it, continuing to read until she found the last name.
Malleus or ‘Hornton’- No last name, and when she looked up the first two names, nothing for Malleus or ‘Hornton’ was found. The closest thing she could find was that the name Malleus came from Briar Valley- an area with little known about it, and therefore, her search was limited. But even so… it was a start.
At the end of the journal, after some passages of her mothers experience at being pregnant with Yume- was three letters. They were unsealed, dusty as well with some of the ink being faded- but still legible. Yume opened each letter, reading the contents. All three contained the same exact message- just with the names swapped out between Vil, Leona and Malleus’s. Each being confessions- the confession that Yume existed.
Suddenly, Yume didnt feel too good. These letters… it made it seem like her dad didnt know she existed… and maybe thats why he never came to anything, never visited, was not around… because the truth was that he didnt know she was alive.
Well- no longer would that be the case! He needed to know, whoever which one of them he was. She sprang up, running to her room and taking out all of her art supplies. She grabbed three empty invitation cards, and started working. Each one, she decorated with a careful hand- placing stickers and drawing with her markers animals and party balloons. On each one, she wrote a message-
“You are invited to Yume’s 10th birthday party! Please come, I would love to meet you. Love, Yume.” She spoke outloud as she wrote. She shoved her creations into the already written envelopes- and sealed them closed with tape. The addresses that were written on them were from 10 years ago- so hopefully they would receive it. And when all three were finished and closed, she looked at them with a huge grin. “There! Now he will have to come and meet me!” She said victoruously.
She ran downstairs, putting on her shoes as Grim sat nearby, loafed on the couch. “Where you off to kid?”
“To the postbox- I have a few letters to deliver-” She said, however left out who they were for.
“Okay- sounds good. Just be careful..” And Grim laid his head back down. He had grown to love home life with Yume and Yuu- especially on their days off of work or when it wasnt busy in the cafe.
“I will be.” She assured him and ran out the door quickly. A couple of streets down and she made it to the postbox, slipping the letters in. Now, there was no turning back. But Yume was ecstatic as she skipped back to her home- thinking about herself in a princess dress and not having to attend school anymore because she would be too important as well…
────•⋅⊰༻♥༺⊱⋅•────
“Happy Birthday Yume!” Yuu exclaimed as her daughter walked downstairs, and she engulfed the girl into a huge hug, placing kisses on her forehead and anywhere else on her face she could. “Awww, my baby is 10 years old- you are getting too old!”
“Mama-” Yume giggled, pushing her mom off of her, but failing. “Come on- youre heavy!”
Yuu laughed, letting up off her daughter and backing up. “Well, thats not very nice- especially since Im the one who got you a surprise… One I think you’ll really enjoy-” Yume perked up at that- as she remembered what she had done.
“I also have a surprise for you!” She said, bouncing up and towards the kitchen as she followed Yuu.
“For me? But its your birthday Yume- you didnt need to get me anything…” Her mother replied, and Yume shook her head.
“Its a surprise for the both of us- but I think its one you’ll really like.” The girl said, as she watched her mother start to get out some of the decorations. “Here, let me help!”
Yuu smiled, looking down as she handed Yume some deflated balloons. “Do you think you can blow some of these up and hang them on the fence?”
“You can count on me!” The girl took the balloon pack and ran outside without her shoes on. Yuu thought to call out and correct her, but instead, just scoffed and gave a small grin as she shook her head. Sure she might get dirt and mud on her, but it could all be washed away- it was all temporary, but making sure her birthday was an enjoyable one was her priority.
It wasnt until later on in the day that Yuu was fussing over her daughters appearance- after the decorations were set up, and almost all of the food was finished, Yuu started getting herself and Yume dressed. Her daughter had picked out a pretty turquoise dress, and had been the one to decide what her hair style would be- and Yuu, well, all she could do was obey her daughters request.
Just as they were wrapping up getting ready, there was a knock on the door, and Yume got up. “I got it!” Yuu watched as her daughter opened the front door, jumping up and down. “Uncle Ace! Uncle Juice!” In the doorway were her old classmates and friends. The past ten years had significantly changed the both of them, as they had gotten taller and their boyish features had filled out into more sturdy looking ones- stronger jawlines, and both were much more sure of their own magical abilities.
In both of their arms were boxes- presents with colorful paper and beautiful ribbons- wrapped so nicely that she doubted that the both of them had decorated them as so. “Hey kid- Happy Birthday!!!” Ace said, and Yume jumped to hug both him and Deuce. “You’ve grown a lot- how long has it been since we last seen you- a couple months now?”
“Its Uncle Deuce-” Deuce said exasperatedly. When Yume was two and still learning words and who people were- Ace had made a one off joke and referred to Deuce as ‘Uncle Juice’- and ever since then, it had stuck. Yume now knew his name was Deuce- but still lovingly referred to him as Uncle Juice occasionally. “And, I believe its been nine months since we last seen each other-”
“Almost a year now?!” Yuu asked. “It felt like its only been two or three months- not nine- wow… we are getting old…” Yuu laughed- and Ace and Deuce joined in.
“Not that old- but we certainly are aging… And you too Yume, youre 10 now!” Deuce said.
Yume nodded her head. “Yup- Im getting older too!” She said. “Oh! Uncle Ace, Uncle Deuce- I helped decorate!”
Ace looked around and nodded- “Yeah I can tell- I like what you did with the place-”
“The decorations are outside, idiot.” Deuce side eyed Ace- and the red head looked shocked.
“Y-Yeah I knew that! I was just complimenting Yuu and Yume’s interior decoration skills as well!” Yume laughed, and Yuu beamed at the sight. Seeing all of her loved ones here, and ready to havea good time made her feel like everything that had happened had been worth it.
“Thank you, Ace. Now, how about we all go outside to admire Yume’s decoration skills and start this party?” Yuu asked- and they all agreed.
────•⋅⊰༻♥༺⊱⋅•────
It was about an hour later- when the party truly started- that the food was brought out. Ace had some things on the grill after insisting he could barbeque the best out of the three of them, however was slowly regretting it as smoke rose from the grill.
“Is it supposed to be smoking that much?” Deuce asked- though he knew the answer to that- it probably shouldnt be.
“Yeah! Yeah- thats what gives the meat all the flavor- dont you know?” Ace asked- poking at one of the steaks that were grilling. Yume rubbed her eyes and shook her head.
“The smoke is hurting my eyes Uncle Ace-” She whinned- and he quickly closed the grill.
“Well- lets just close that and let it cook then, huh?” He asked hypothetically, as he decided to just leave the meat to cook. As he did so, Yuu came back out with a bowl that had lettuce and other ingredients in one hand, and another bowl in the other that was already prepared.
“Here-” She set down the premade bowl. “Here is the macaroni salad I made last night. And- I still need to put the salad together-” She set down the second bowl filled with the uncut lettuce head and other things. “Aaannnddd- I have your surprise inside! Let me go get it.” And Yuu went back inside.
Ace looked to Deuce and Yume- “Suprise? Dont we do presents after cake?” He asked, and Deuce and Yume nodded.
“Yeah- but this isnt a present- its a surprise.” Deuce stated- and it didnt help with Ace’s confusion. It wasnt until Yuu came outside with a giant cake box in her hands that it clicked into place for Ace and Deuce.
“Well… my surprise for you was that I got you an ice cream cake- Your favorite!” She opened the box. “We cant eat it until later- but I couldnt wait to show you it- and look! It has your favorite animal on it- a bunny!” Yuu pointed. Sure enough, there was rabbits drawn in gray frosting on the borders of the cake, that was lined with purple frosting.
“Oh wow! I love ice cream cake and bunnies- im so excited!!!” Yume looked- standing on her tiptoes to see the cake better. Before she could say anything esle though, there was a knock at the front door- a knock that was unexpected. Yuu looked around, confused. Everyone who was invited was there already- could it be Crowley? He had never popped in unannounced before- not without telling her atleast. “Who could that be?” She muttered under her breath and sat the cake down gently on the table. She wiped her hands on her pants, and got ready to go get the door before she was stopped.
“I-I’ll go get it!” Yume shot up, raising her hand as she volunteered.
Yuu raised an eyebrow, now suspicious. “Did you invite someone?” She asked her daughter, as she sprinted from her chair to the porch back door to head back inside.
“You could say that… Its your surprise!” She exclaimed, and without waiting, ran inside. Before opening the front door, she breathed in a deep breath, preparing herself. This was something she had been waiting for for years now- all culminating to this one moment. This would change her life forever- and so, she unlocked the front door and opened it.
Standing in front of her were three individuals. The three she had been expecting… “You came! You all came! I wasnt sure if you would get my letter, but im so happy-” She gasped- stars practically in her eyes as she looked up to all three of them.
They all looked down at her- as if they could not believe she existed as well- like she was an alien or something odd but interesting nonetheless. “Your letter? So, your the one who wrote out this invitation and sent it to us?” One of the men’s ears twitched as he held up her the invitation she had written out, as well as the letter with her mothers handwriting behind it.
“Yeah! I invited you- but the letter is from my mom.” She explained.
“You are Yume then? Correct?” The tall man with black hair asked. He was the tallest of the three of them- black hair with green on the tips. He wore a black coat with a royal purple waist tie- it was a fancy outfit, but hardly fit the occasion. His ears were pointed- a trait she had seen on only a few people- mainly, a few students from the nearby schools. He must be fae- she concluded. Yume nodded exuberantly at his question- excited he had remembered her name.
“Thats right! I’m Yume-” She extended her hand out as much as she could- but with all of them being rather taller than her, they had to bend down in order to properly grasp her hand and shake it. “Its nice to meet all of you.”
“Where is Yu-” The brown haired man stopped and hesitated, before clearing his throat. “Your mother?” She looked at his appearance- His hair wasnt exactly combed, but it wasnt messy either- with braids throughout. He wore a leather jacket with a lose shirt underneath that was a golden color. Beaded jewlery decorated his neck in bright colors- she recognized it and her eyes brightened.
“You must be Leona Kingscholar- Second Prince of the Sunset Savvanah.” She replied, not answering his question. She then turned to the tall, blonde man that was combed back. He was impeccably dressed- a silk shirt, black pants, gold braclets and necklaces- a true super star. He even seemed to sparkle like he did in all his movies- it was almost blinding. “And you- you are Vil Schoenheit! You were in ‘Moonlight Horizons- one of my favorite movies!”
“You have immaculate taste then.” Vil smiled and folded his arms over one another. “But I also must wonder- where is your mother?” Vil pulled from his inner pocket her invitation as well that didnt have even a fold- kept perfectly flat. “And does she know about this?”
Yume looked at the invitation, and gave a sheepish grin. “Yeah- she knows about the letter- she’s the one who wrote it after all.” She replied. She left out though that her mother had written that letter more than a decade ago- and that she had not sent it, but Yume had. “Yeah, she knows. Please- come in! She’s in the backyard and would love to see you.”
They looked to one another, as if they were only then questioning if they were going to listen and follow a child into her house. However, it seemed their curiosity won out, as they followed her, through her apartment and into the backyard just as she said.
Yuu’s back was turned, as she prepared a salad for the table before the party started. She was just placing the ingredients into the bowl before she was interrupted.
“Umm- Yuu?” Ace turned to his friend nervously. She looked up from the task at hand.
“Yeah? What is it?” When she did look up finally, she saw the terrified and perplexed faces of not only Ace, but Deuce and Grim as well- as they pointed towards the apartment door. She spun and looked- and immediately wished she had not.
In front of her stood three figures from her past that she had not seen in a decade- all following behind her daughter- or rather… the daughter she had had with one of them. They all looked to her, expectantly- and looking almost as they had all those years ago.
Malleus was the first to speak; “Child of man, it is good to see you.”
“Long time no see, Herbivore.” Leona nodded- though he looked less pleased.
And Vil- he held onto a letter- her letter that she had written, and held it up to her, waving it. “Potato- we have much to discuss.”
11. The Voice of Hind Rajab
12. Sister Midnight
13. Avatar: Fire and Ash
14. F1 The Movie
15. Frankenstein
16. Friendship
17. Caught Stealing
18. Eddington
19. One Battle After Another
20. Companion
21. 28 Years Later
22. Bring Her Back
23. The Mastermind
24. Bugonia
25. Universal Language
26. Sorry, Baby
27. Mickey 17
28. The Ugly Stepsister
29. It Was Just an Accident
30. Splitsville
31. Predator: Badlands
32. Relay
33. Magazine Dreams
34. Presence
35. Freaky Tales
36. Good Fortune
37. Wake Up Dead Man
38. The Life of Chuck
39. Die My Love
40. Nouvelle Vague
41. The Naked Gun
42. The Luckiest Man in America
43. The Secret Agent
44. Christy
45. Americana
46. Final Destination: Bloodlines
47. Sisu: Road to Revenge
48. The Monkey
49. The Phoenician Scheme
50. A House of Dynamite
51. Eternity
52. Hell of a Summer
53. Dangerous Animals
54. The Toxic Avenger
55. The Roses
56. Deathstalker
57. Materialists
58. Lurker
[Tap 'Keep Reading' For My Full Graded List]
Grade B
59. Thunderbolts*
60. Red Sonja
61. Warfare
62. The Lost Bus
63. Roofman
64. The Surfer
65. Influencers
66. Oh, Hi!
67. Sovereign
68. Zootopia 2
69. Inheritance
70. Rental Family
71. The Bad Guys 2
72. If I Had Legs I’d Kick You
73. Together
74. Predator: Killer of Killers
75. Clown in a Cornfield
76. Mission: Impossible – The Final Reckoning
77. V/H/S/Halloween
78. Black Bag
79. American Sweatshop
80. One of Them Days
81. The Legend of Ochi
82. Jay Kelly
83. Blue Moon
84. The Running Man
85. The Housemaid
86. Silent Night, Deadly Night
87. The Smashing Machine
88. Black Phone 2
89. Novocaine
90. Until Dawn
91. Jurassic World Rebirth
92. The Amateur
93. The Day the Earth Blew Up: A Looney Tunes Movie
94. The Damned
95. Hurry Up Tomorrow
96. 100 Nights of Hero
97. KPop Demon Hunters
98. Ballad of a Small Player
99. Havoc
100. Now You See Me: Now You Don’t
101. Springsteen: Deliver Me from Nowhere
102. Song Sung Blue
103. The Assessment
104. The Conjuring: Last Rites
105. Highest 2 Lowest
106. The Fantastic Four: First Steps
107. Drop
108. Last Breath
109. Elio
110. How to Train Your Dragon
111. Eden
112. The Wedding Banquet
Grade C
113. A Big Bold Beautiful Journey
114. Heart Eyes
115. Paddington in Peru
116. Keeper
117. After the Hunt
118. Karate Kid: Legends
119. The Gorge
120. HIM
121. Ballerina
122. Dog Man
123. Nobody 2
124. Shadow Force
125. Batman Ninja vs. Yakuza League
126. Good Boy
127. Den of Thieves 2: Pantera
128. Anaconda
129. Love Me
130. Borderline
131. Honey Don’t!
132. Ash
133. I Know What You Did Last Summer
134. Eenie Meanie
135. Death of a Unicorn
136. Locked
137. Shelby Oaks
138. Captain America: Brave New World
139. TRON: Ares
140. The Hand That Rocks the Cradle
141. Strange Harvest
142. Neelofar
143. Opus
144. Mountainhead
145. Ella McCay
146. Lilo & Stitch
147. M3GAN 2.0
Grade F
148. The Electric State
149. Wicked: For Good
150. Happy Gilmore 2
151. Freakier Friday
152. The Woman in the Yard
153. You’re Cordially Invited
154. Wolf Man
155. Regretting You
156. Saiyaara
157. Maintenance Required
158. A Working Man
159. Love Hurts
160. Snow White
Bottom 10
161. Cleaner
162. Five Nights at Freddy’s 2
163. Fear Street: Prom Queen
164. In the Lost Lands
165. Back in Action
166. Flight Risk
167. A Minecraft Movie
168. Straw
169. The Strangers: Chapter 2
170. War of the Worlds
ᯓ✦∘˙ Pairings: Babysitter!Reader x Unc!Kuna (Reader x Childhoodfriend!Jin in the beginning)
ᯓ✦∘˙ Summary: You met a boy your age back then, you helped him when he grazed his knee And now? You two were the bestest of friends. Until a girl appeared in his life, the one you introduced to him. you two ended your friendship because of that. You were broke after university and needed money to pay rent, now that same boy called you to babysit his son. And you didn’t know there’s another man inside the house who was his uncle. Somehow, you can’t keep your eyes off the man.
ᯓ✦∘˙ Warnings: MDNI, Reader x Jin Itadori in the beginning, angst, swearing, strangers to lovers, Sukuna is a bitch to you, slowburn, Yuji is a sweetheart here, swearing, smut (in later chapters), heartbroken, Reader still can’t get over Jin, it’s complicated in here
ᯓ✦∘˙ Author’s note: Chapter one is out now! Hehe, enjoy lovelies <3 likes, reblogs, and comments are very appreciated 🥹💗
Chapter one:
As a kid, you always visited the same old playground tucked away at the edge of your neighborhood. The paint on the swings has chipped away, the slide was faded and scratched, and the metal bars creaked every time you climbed on them. People said it had been there even before your grandparents were born. No one really knew why it was never torn down, but to you, it felt eternal.
No matter how old or worn it became, you went there every single day. After school, during weekends, on holidays, even when the sky threatened rain or the sun burned too hot. Sometimes your mother scolded you for choosing the playground over your homework, but you always promised you would do it later. The playground was your escape, your safe place, the one thing that stayed the same when everything else felt too big.
One afternoon, you arrived like you always did, your backpack bouncing against your shoulders as you crossed the uneven grass. You expected the usual quiet, the sound of wind brushing against rusted chains, the lonely stillness you had grown used to.
But you weren’t alone.
Near the swings sat a boy your age, curled up on the ground. He had messy pink hair, big round glasses that kept sliding down his nose, and striking red eyes that were filled with tears. His shoulders shook as he cried, and it caught you so off guard that you froze for a second. You had never seen another kid here before.
Being a child, curiosity won over hesitation. You walked toward him, kneeling beside him to see what was wrong. It didn’t take long to figure it out. He must have been running around, playing by himself, when he tripped and scraped his knee. The skin was scrapped and bleeding a little, but to a him, it was the end of the world.
When he noticed you, his teary crimson eyes looked up in surprise, a small bubble of snot forming on his face from crying too hard. You almost laughed, but you held it in. Instead, you shrugged off your backpack and rummaged through it. Inside were random things you always carried around, candies you forgot about, a small teddy bear, and a handful of bandaids your mom insisted you bring just in case.
You picked one with Cinderella on it and gently pressed it onto his scraped knee. “H-Huh?” he sniffed, blinking at you. “Thank you…” He wiped the snot bubble away in embarrassment, turning his face slightly so you wouldn’t see.
“It’s no problemo!” you said brightly. “I didn’t know there was another kid who played here.”You offered your hand and helped him stand up. That was when you noticed he was a little taller than you, even though you were probably the same age. He adjusted his glasses, rubbing his eyes with the collar of his shirt as if trying to hide the fact that he had been crying so hard just moments ago.
“My name is Jin Itadori,” he said shyly. “Me and my parents moved here yesterday. I was exploring the neighborhood and found this playground.”
Your eyes lit up. “Well that’s good news!” you announced excitedly. “That means I have a new playmate now!”You hopped around him, unable to contain your excitement.
Jin’s face turned red, whether from embarrassment or confusion, you couldn’t tell. He quickly turned his back to you, trying to escape your sparkling, hopeful gaze. “Nuh uh,” he muttered. “I just came here to have fun, not to get a playmate!”
You gasped dramatically and clasped your hands together. “Awwwh! But having a playmate is ten times more fun than being lonely!”Then you pulled out your ultimate weapon, Puppy eyes.
Jin stiffened. He glanced back at you, then away, then back again, clearly struggling. Finally, he sighed in defeat. “Ugh… you know what? Maybe I do need a friend…” Whether it was the puppy eyes or the fact that he didn’t want to be alone anymore, it didn’t matter. From that day on, you were inseparable.
Strangers turned into friends, and friends quickly became best friends. You met at the playground every day after school, racing each other across the grass, sharing snacks, and talking about the future like it was something you could easily reach. As you grew older, the playground became a memory, but Jin stayed by your side. You studied together, argued, laughed, and supported each other through everything.
You even promised to go to the same university together. And you did. By then, people constantly mistook you for a couple. Your parents joked about it, your friends teased you relentlessly, and strangers assumed you were dating. Every time, you laughed it off. “We’re just friends,” you would say.
At least, that’s what you told yourself.
Because somewhere along the way, your feelings changed. You noticed how his smile made your chest feel tight, how his laugh lingered in your mind longer than it should. You caught yourself getting jealous over things that shouldn’t have mattered. You didn’t understand when it started or why it was him out of everyone.
But it was him. Maybe everyone else had been right all along. You planned to confess during a party, telling yourself that no matter what happened, you needed to be honest. You waited for the perfect moment, when it would just be the two of you.
But you were too late.
That night, you saw him with another woman. Her name was Kaori. She was beautiful, kind, and everything you weren’t prepared to compete with. The way Jin looked at her told you everything before he ever said a word.
His heart was already taken.
You couldn’t blame him. You tried to smile, tried to act normal, but it hurt more than you expected. From that night on, you grew distant, quieter, colder. Jin noticed, of course. He just didn’t understand why the person who had always been by his side suddenly felt so far away. And you didn’t know how to tell him that you had fallen in love too late.
When Jin first noticed the change, he tried to brush it off. You were quieter, less responsive, and your usual warmth felt muted. He told himself you were just busy, that everyone needed space sometimes. But when his calls went unanswered for days and your texts became short and distant, unease settled deep in his chest.
He called again. And again. No answer. That was when worry turned into urgency. Without asking, without warning, Jin went straight to your place. When you opened the door and saw him standing there, your expression hardened instantly. That alone told him something was wrong.
“Talk to me.”Jin said as soon as the door opened wider. His voice was calm, controlled, but his eyes were filled with concern and something dangerously close to panic. “Why aren’t you answering the phone? Why are you so distant?”
You let out a small, bitter laugh and stepped aside, not letting him inside. The silence between you felt heavy, like something fragile was about to shatter.
“You really don’t know?” you asked, turning your back to him. Jin closed the door slowly. “If I knew, I wouldn’t be here.”
That was enough to break whatever restraint you had left. “You prioritize Kaori nowadays,” you snapped, finally facing him. “I get it. You like her. I really do.”
His brows furrowed. “That doesn’t mean I’m ignoring you.”
“But you are,” you said immediately. “She never asked you to cut me off. She’s my friend and i know her, she never told you to stop being my friend. So why are you the one avoiding me, Jin?”Your voice shook, but you pushed through it anyway.
“Why do I feel like I’m bothering you just by existing now?” you continued. “Why do I feel like I’m the one in the way?”
Jin took a step closer, his expression tight. “That was never my intention.”
“Then what was?” you demanded. Tears gathered in your eyes, threatening to fall. “Because from where I’m standing, I went from being your closest friend to someone you barely talk to.”
You crossed your arms, trying to hold yourself together. “Am I just a stranger to you now?” you asked, your voice sharp with hurt. “Is that it?”
“No,” Jin said quickly. “You’re not a stranger. I just didn’t realize how much I was hurting you.”
“I did,” you replied. “Every time you didn’t call back. Every time you chose to be somewhere else. Every time I had to hear about you from other people.”
He inhaled deeply, clearly struggling. “Look, we can talk about this. If you just let me explain.”
“No!”you said, shaking your head. “I don’t want to hear ANYTHING from you. Not your reasons. Not your explanations.”
Jin stiffened. “That’s not fair.”
“Neither is this..”you shot back. “If you want to ignore me, then fine. Do it. But don’t pretend like this came out of nowhere.”You wiped at your tears, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. “Don’t forget something, Jin,” you said quietly. “I introduced Kaori to you.”He froze.
“I was your wingwoman,” you continued. “I supported you. I encouraged you. I stood by you even when it hurt.”Your voice broke despite your efforts to stay composed. “And somehow, I became the stranger in the end.”
Jin looked devastated, guilt flashing across his face. “That was never supposed to happen.”
“But it did,” you whispered. “And saying you never meant to does not change how it feels.”The room fell silent after that. Jin stood there, realizing too late that the distance between you was not accidental. It was built slowly, choice by choice, until it became something neither of you knew how to fix.
“Why make such a big deal out of it?” Jin asked, running a hand through his hair in frustration. His brows were furrowed, eyes searching your face like he was genuinely trying to understand. “I still contact you. I still see you as my best friend. Why make the fire larger than it already is?”
Those words hit harder than anything else he had said. You let out a shaky laugh, one that sounded nothing like humor. “Why?” you repeated, your voice rising. “Why?!”Your hands clenched into fists at your sides as everything you had been holding back finally spilled over.
“Don’t you understand?” you cried. “I like you, Jin! I like you. Goddamnit, I don’t just like you, I love you!”
The room felt suddenly too small, the air too thick to breathe.
“I made it obvious,” you continued, tears streaming freely down your face now. “I gave you signs. I stuck love letters in your locker even when I was terrified someone else would see them. I stayed up late writing them, rewriting them, throwing half of them away because they sounded stupid.” Your chest ached as you spoke, each word ripping something open.
“I gave you those chocolates,” you said, your voice breaking. “The ones that randomly appeared on your desk. I pretended they were nothing, like they just showed up by accident. I watched you smile and thank me like it was some small, meaningless thing.”
You shook your head, sobbing softly. “And you thought it was just a friendly gesture.” Jin stood frozen in place, staring at you like the ground had disappeared beneath his feet.
“You know how painful that is?” you went on, your voice cracking with every sentence. “To pour everything you have into someone and realize they never even saw it the way you meant it? To hear you talk about other girls while I stood right there, smiling like my heart wasn’t breaking?”
Your knees felt weak, but you forced yourself to stay standing. “I stayed,” you whispered. “I stayed because I thought maybe one day you would notice. Maybe you would realize it on your own. But instead, I watched you drift away.”
The silence that followed was suffocating.
“Y—You like me?” Jin finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. His eyes widened, shock written all over his face. “You mean… romantically?”He swallowed hard, clearly struggling to process what you had just said.
“I didn’t know,” he admitted slowly. “I swear I didn’t know.”His mind raced as moments replayed themselves in his head. The letters. The chocolates. Your constant presence. The way you always waited for him. All the things he brushed off as normal suddenly carried a weight he had never noticed before.
“I thought you were just being you,” he said quietly. “I thought you were just being kind.”
The silence between you thickened, heavy and unbearable, filled with everything left unsaid. Jin looked at you like he was seeing you for the first time, and that scared you more than anything. He opened his mouth to speak again, then closed it, clearly at a loss.
“I-I don’t know what to say,” he finally confessed.
“Then don’t say anything,” you said quietly. Your voice didn’t rise, but it carried a finality that made Jin’s chest tighten. “It will only hurt both of us even more.”
You reached for the door, fingers trembling as you pushed it closed. You needed space. You needed air. You needed the conversation to end before you completely fell apart.
But the door did not close. Jin’s hand shot out, gripping the edge of it, stopping it halfway. The sudden resistance startled you.
“Do not do this to me,” he said, his voice strained as he leaned forward slightly. “You cannot just..shut the door in my face right after that!”
You looked at him then. Really looked at him. His brows were drawn together, his jaw tight. He adjusted his glasses with a shaky hand, a habit he always had when he was overwhelmed or trying to keep control of his emotions.
“Jin,” you whispered, exhaustion lacing your tone. “Please.”He shook his head. “No. Not like this.”
Silence stretched between you, heavy and suffocating. Your hand stayed on the door, his still bracing it open, the space between you filled with years of memories that refused to be ignored.
“Jin,” you said again, this time steadier, even though your heart felt like it was being torn apart. “Maybe it is best if we part our ways after we graduate.” The words left your mouth carefully, but they still landed like a dagger.
He went completely still. “What?” he asked, disbelief flashing across his face. “Why?!”
You swallowed hard. “Because staying like this will only hurt more.”
His eyes darkened. “After everything?” he demanded. “After fourteen years? His voice rose despite himself. “You want to end our friendship like that?” Pain bled into every word. Anger followed close behind, raw and unfiltered.
“We grew up together,” he continued, stepping closer, his grip on the door tightening. “You know everything about me. You know my habits, my fears, the things I never tell anyone else. You were there before anyone else was.” His voice cracked. “And you want to throw that away?”
You felt your chest constrict. “I’m not throwing it away,” you said softly. “I’m trying to survive it.”
Jin stared at you, stunned. “So that is it?” he asked bitterly. “Fourteen years reduced to a graduation goodbye?”
Tears slipped down your cheeks, but you didn’t wipe them away. “I cannot keep pretending,” you said. “I cannot keep being your best friend while loving you like this. It’s killing me, Jin.”
His expression shifted then, fury giving way to something broken. “You think this is not hurting me too?”
“Then let me go,” you whispered. “Before we start hating each other for something neither of us chose.”
“Hah. Let you go?” Jin repeated, a hollow laugh leaving his lips. He shook his head slowly, disbelief etched into every line of his face. “You? My best friend? Basically my other half?”
The laugh that followed was sharp and broken, soaked in sarcasm and pain. It did not sound like amusement at all. It sounded like something cracking. His hand tightened against the door, knuckles whitening as his grip grew rough, desperate. The wood creaked under the pressure, and for a moment it looked like he might actually put a hole through it if he squeezed any harder.
“You are telling me to let go of fourteen years like it is nothing,” he continued, his voice trembling despite his effort to stay composed. “Like I didn’t build my life with you standing right beside me.”
He exhaled shakily, eyes glistening. “You were always there. Every memory I have, you are in it somehow. How am I supposed to just let that go?”
You could not answer. Your throat felt tight, your chest burning with the weight of everything you wanted to say but could not.
Jin’s jaw clenched. His shoulders sagged as if the fight drained out of him all at once. “Fine,” he said quietly, the word heavy with defeat. “Go.”
His hand finally loosened from the door. Slowly, reluctantly, he pulled away, taking a step back as if the distance might protect him from the pain. His eyes searched your face one last time, filled with confusion, heartbreak, and frustration that had nowhere left to go.
“Forget about me,” he added, though his voice betrayed how impossible that sounded to him. “If that is what you need.” Then, softer, almost like a confession he never meant to say out loud, he whispered, “But I will never forget about you.”
Something inside you shattered at that. You let out a small, broken chuckle, the kind that came when crying too much left no room for anything else. You wiped your tears with the heels of your hands, smearing them away even as more threatened to fall.
“Unfortunately, same.”you said, your voice trembling despite your attempt to sound light. “I don’t think that is something either of us can change.” You forced yourself to breathe, to stand straight, to look at him without breaking apart completely.
“See you someday, Jin,” you said quietly. For a moment, it looked like he might say something. His lips parted slightly, his eyes dark with emotion. But the words never came. He looked too hurt, too exhausted, too weak to find a proper goodbye.
So instead, he turned away. He lifted one hand in a small, half-hearted wave, his back already facing you as he stepped out of your apartment. The door closed softly behind him, the sound echoing far louder than it should have.
—
You never saw each other again after that night other than graduation. At least, not in the way that mattered.
At first, Jin still tried. He sent messages asking how you were doing, asking if you wanted to hang out like you used to. Coffee, lunch, just talking. You read them. Every single one. You just never replied. It was easier to stay silent than to reopen a wound that never really closed.
A year later, another message came. A wedding invitation. Short, polite, careful, as if he was afraid of crossing a line that no longer existed.
You didn’t go.
You told yourself it was the right thing to do. You told yourself he had moved on and you should too. Slowly, quietly, you slipped out of his life completely. And just as quietly, he slipped out of yours. Not entirely, but enough that the days stopped feeling like they revolved around him.
Four years passed. Life did not turn out the way you hoped it would.
What started as small setbacks turned into disasters you could not outrun. You lost your job after a rumor spread through the office, whispered by the one colleague who had always seen you as competition. No proof. No chance to defend yourself. Just cold looks, hushed conversations, and a sudden meeting where you were told it was better if you left.
After that, everything unraveled. Bills piled up. Savings vanished. Your landlord stopped being patient. Each message from him felt like a countdown ticking closer to zero.
Now, you were lying on your bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to memorize the cracks and stains like they were precious. This was the last stretch of time you had in a place that felt like home. Soon, you would be sleeping on cardboard, counting coins, wondering how fast life could fall apart.
You let out a tired sigh and closed your eyes.
Then your phone lit up.
Your heart dropped instantly. Another message from your landlord, you assumed. Another reminder that time was running out. With shaking fingers, you picked up your phone and opened the notification.
And froze. The name on the screen made your chest tighten painfully.
Jin Itadori.
You stared at the message, reading it once, then twice, then again, as if your eyes were playing a cruel trick on you.
“Hey, it’s been a while. Sorry to suddenly message you, but I need you for this. Me and Kaori are going on a date for two days, and you are needed to babysit our son, Yuji.”
Your breath caught.
Son?
Your mind reeled. Jin had a son. Since when did he have a son. How had four years passed so completely that he now had a child you never even knew existed. Questions flooded your thoughts. When did he get married? When was Yuji born? Did he look like Jin or Kaori? Did Jin smile the same way when holding him?
Before you could spiral further, another message appeared.
“Don’t worry, you will get paid. I would never force you to babysit a kid and leave you empty handed.”
You stared at the screen, heart pounding. You would get paid.
The words felt unreal. Relief washed over you so suddenly it almost made you laugh. This was money you desperately needed. Money that could keep a roof over your head. Money that could stop your life from completely collapsing.
But it came with a price. You would have to see Jin again. After four years. You would have to meet his son, a living reminder of the life he built without you. Your chest tightened, but reality left you no room to hesitate.
You needed this job. You swallowed hard and typed your reply, your fingers moving faster than your heart could catch up.
“Fine. I will babysit little Yuji.”
Jin took longer than you expected to reply.
You watched the screen like it might explode, your phone clutched tightly in your hand. The three small dots appeared, disappeared, then appeared again as he typed. Each second stretched painfully long. Your heart raced so fast you could feel it in your ears, and sweat gathered at the back of your neck despite the cool air in the room.
You told yourself to calm down. It was just a message. Just Jin. Someone who used to be part of your everyday life. But four years of silence made even his typing feel overwhelming.
Finally, his message came through, “Thanks, buddy. Maybe we can catch up before I leave tomorrow?”
You stared at the word buddy longer than you should have. It stung in a way you did not expect, even after all this time. Still, you understood why he used it. Safe. Familiar. Distant enough not to cross any lines.
Catching up.
The idea alone felt strange. You and Jin, sitting together, pretending the past four years had not reshaped both of you into strangers. So much had happened. Too much, really. Pain you never shared. Choices he made without you. A life he built that you only heard about through silence.
You let out a slow breath. You didn’t want to be rude. You didn’t want to seem bitter. And you needed this job. More than that, some part of you wondered if you deserved closure, even if it hurt.
So you typed back, “Sure. Four years of no contact needs a summary of what happened in those four years.”
You hesitated before sending it, then pressed send anyway. After that, you didn’t wait for his reply.
You placed your phone on the drawer beside your bed, screen facing down like that might stop the thoughts from flooding in. You lay back and stared at the ceiling, every memory you thought you buried creeping back into your chest.
You wondered what he would look like now. If his smile had changed. If fatherhood softened him or hardened him. If Kaori would be mentioned casually, like she had always been there.
Your mind jumped to his son. Yuji. The name alone felt heavy. You tried to imagine a child calling Jin dad, laughing, holding his hand. It hurt more than you expected.
You closed your eyes and tried to sleep. But sleep refused to come.
Your thoughts spiraled endlessly, replaying old conversations, imagining tomorrow’s meeting, dreading the moment you would see him again. Your heart ached with anticipation and fear, and no matter how tightly you shut your eyes, rest stayed just out of reach.
You paced your bedroom in uneven circles, the soft padding of your footsteps the only sound filling the room. The walls felt closer than usual, like they were pressing in on you. Your phone was warm in your hand from how tightly you were gripping it, your thumb hovering anxiously over the screen.
“How to go to sleep in just 2 minutes.”
You read the title, scoffed quietly, and clicked anyway. The article promised miracles. Deep breathing patterns. Muscle relaxation. Visualization. You followed every step like your life depended on it. Inhale for four seconds. Hold. Exhale slowly. Again. And again.
Nothing. Your chest still felt tight. Your thoughts still raced.
You tried warm milk next, standing in the kitchen in complete silence, watching steam curl up from the mug. You drank it slowly, forcing yourself to relax with every sip. When that failed, you turned off every light, pulled the curtains shut until no glow from the street slipped through, and crawled into bed. You lay perfectly still.
Your mind screamed. So you got up again.
You grabbed a pen and paper, hands shaking slightly as you wrote everything down. Jin, Yuji, Four years, Rent, Failure, and that one ex-colleague that you pray of their downfall soon. Each word carved itself deeper into your chest. The page filled too fast, your thoughts spilling out in messy handwriting that only made things worse.
You crumpled the paper and threw it across the room, frustrated tears burning behind your eyes. Sleep never came.
Your body was beyond exhausted. Muscles ached. Your eyes felt gritty and dry, like they were filled with sand. Every blink hurt, but closing your eyes only invited more overthinking. Time crawled by painfully slow, minute by minute, hour by hour, until the dark outside softened into early morning gray.
—————
7:46 am. The time glared at you from your phone screen.
You stared at it in disbelief, your heart sinking. You hadn’t slept at all. Not even for a moment. The realization hit harder than the exhaustion itself. You felt hollow, drained, like someone had scooped everything out of you and left you running on fumes.
You lay there for another minute, hoping your body would finally give in and shut down. It didn’t. A heavy sigh escaped your lips as you forced yourself to sit up. The room swayed slightly, dizziness washing over you. You rubbed your eyes, but the burning sensation only worsened.
You needed that payment. The thought alone dragged you out of bed.
Your movements were slow and clumsy as you shuffled toward the bathroom, shoulders slumped, feet barely lifting off the floor. Every step felt heavier than the last. The mirror greeted you with a reflection that made your stomach drop.
Your hair was a tangled mess, sticking up in strange directions from hours of tossing and turning. Your skin looked dull and pale, lips dry. The dark circles under your eyes were deep and bruised-looking, worse than usual, screaming exhaustion. You looked like someone who hadn’t rested in days.
You barely recognized yourself.
You turned on the faucet and splashed cold water onto your face. The shock made you gasp sharply, droplets running down your neck and soaking into your shirt. You did it again. And again. Each time, the cold burned, but it forced you to stay awake.
You slapped your cheeks gently at first, then a little harder, grounding yourself in the sensation. You leaned forward, gripping the edges of the sink, staring into your own tired eyes. Your reflection looked fragile, like it might fall apart at any second.
“Come on,” you whispered, your voice hoarse. “Focus.” Your throat tightened as you spoke again, firmer this time. “You can do this.”
The words felt weak, but they were all you had. One day. Just one day of pushing through. One child to babysit. One job that could save you from losing everything.
You moved on autopilot as you stood in front of your closet, eyes scanning clothes you had worn too many times to count. Nothing felt right. Everything felt wrong. You needed something simple, something that wouldn’t draw attention, something that did not look like you were trying too hard.
You finally grabbed a white sleeveless top, the fabric thin and soft from age. You pulled on a pair of denim pants, the knees slightly faded, the hems worn down from years of use. Your white shoes waited by the door, though they were hardly white anymore. The sides were dirty, stained a dull brown from long days of walking and rain you never avoided. You slipped them on anyway, tying the laces tightly.
After a moment of hesitation, you grabbed a baby blue jacket and shrugged it on. It felt safer, more modest. You zipped it halfway up and tugged at the sleeves, grounding yourself in the familiar weight of it.
In the kitchen, you poured yourself a cup of hot coffee, the smell strong. Your hands trembled slightly as you lifted it to your lips. You drank too fast, desperate for the caffeine to kick in, and the heat burned your tongue immediately.
You winced, breath catching for a split second. But the pain barely registered. Compared to everything else, it felt distant, dull, almost comforting.
You set the mug down and reached for your phone, your fingers hovering over the screen. Your heart began to pound again, adrenaline surging through your exhausted body. You had already agreed to this. There was no turning back now.
Your hands shook as you typed. “Jin, I’m on my way. Can you send me the house address again?”
You stared at the message after sending it, anxiety twisting in your chest. The screen stayed quiet for a minute. Then two. Each second made your pulse race faster. Finally, his status changed to active.
A message popped up. “Here’s the address. Excited to see you, best buddy.”
Your chest tightened at the familiar phrase. Best buddy. It sounded so casual, so easy, it was his nickname to you when you two were still friends.
You locked your phone and slipped it into your pocket, forcing yourself to breathe. Outside, the world kept moving like nothing had changed. And yet, everything felt different.
You grabbed your keys, slung your bag over your shoulder, and stepped out the door, fully aware that with each step forward, you were walking straight back into a life you once left behind.
You slid into your car and shut the door quietly, hands lingering on the steering wheel longer than necessary. The interior smelled faintly of old coffee and fabric softener, familiar and grounding. You unlocked your phone and opened Google Maps, typing in the address Jin sent you. It took a few tries before you got it right, your fingers fumbling slightly as your nerves got the better of you.
Once the route appeared, you stared at it. Thirteen minutes.
You swallowed and started the engine. The drive felt unreal. The streets blurred past your window as you followed the directions, but your mind was miles away. Every red light felt longer than it should have been. Every turn tightened the knot in your chest. Your heart raced as if you were running, not driving, and your thoughts refused to stay in one place.
What would he say? What would you say? Would it feel awkward? Would it hurt?
You forced yourself to block it all out. You needed the money. You needed stability. You reminded yourself of the unpaid bills, the landlord’s threats, the thin line between having a home and losing everything. You gripped the steering wheel tighter and focused on the road.
Thirteen minutes felt like an hour. When you finally pulled up in front of Jin’s house, you parked and turned off the engine, sitting there in silence. The house stood quietly before you, neat and lived in. A place filled with routines, with laughter, with a life you were no longer part of.
You took a deep breath, Then another. You stepped out of the car, closed the door, and walked up to the front porch. Standing in front of the door felt heavier than you expected. You raised your hand, hesitated, then pressed the doorbell. The chime echoed inside. A moment later, the door opened.
And there he was, Jin. Your breath caught before you could stop it.
God, he still looked handsome, just like he did back in high school, but different too. Older. More worn. His hair was messier than you remembered, like small hands had been tugging at it moments ago. His glasses had new frames, sleeker than the ones he used to wear. His crimson eyes were the same, but darker now, rimmed with exhaustion. The faint eyebags beneath them mirrored your own.
“Ah..”he said, voice hesitant. “Long time no see, buddy.”His arms opened awkwardly, unsure, as if he did not know whether to commit to the gesture.
You froze. For a split second, you just stared at him, confusion and emotion colliding in your chest. Four years disappeared and reappeared all at once. You debated stepping back, pretending you did not notice the invitation.
But you didn’t want to be cruel. So you stepped forward and hugged him. It was stiff and brief. You patted his back awkwardly, your movements unsure, your heart pounding loudly in your ears. “It is nice to see you again, Jin..” you said quietly.
You pulled away quickly, looking off to the side as you scratched the back of your head, trying to ground yourself. “It is nice to see you again too,” he replied, smiling faintly. “You have missed a lot of things.”
Before you could respond, he stepped aside and gently ushered you inside. The house was warm and lived in. Simple, but full. Yellowish walls caught the sunlight, giving everything a soft glow. The white tiled floors were scattered with toy trains, small cars, and colorful blocks. The place clearly belonged to a family of three.
“Careful.”Jin said casually as he walked ahead. “One wrong step and you will step on a piece of Lego.”Almost immediately, he hissed in pain.
“Ouch! Crap..Speaking of Lego.”He hopped slightly, pulling his foot back and bending down to pick up the small red block he had just stepped on. From the kitchen, a familiar laugh rang out.
“Careful, honey,” Kaori called. “That is your eighth time stepping on Yuji’s toys today.”She appeared a moment later, crouching down to gather the scattered toys and placing them back into their containers. Motherhood suited her. She still looked radiant, still glowing in that effortless way that made people gravitate toward her.
As she straightened up, her eyes met yours. Her smile softened. “It’s been a while,” she said warmly. “I missed our girls’ night outs together.” Your chest tightened, but you smiled back. You had envied her once, because of Jin, but that never erased the fact that she was one of your closest friends.
“Me too,” you admitted, exhaling softly as you sat down on the couch. “It has been years since our last ones. Though, I guess we can’t really do those anymore. We are adults now. Different lives, Jobs.”
She waved a hand dismissively, laughing. “You are never too old for old fashioned fun.”She returned to the kitchen briefly, then came back and placed a cup of tea gently on the table beside you. The warmth of it seeped into your hands as she sat on the other side of the couch.
“So,” Kaori said gently, breaking the quiet as she lifted her teacup, the steam curling lazily into the air. “How has life been treating you lately?”Her tone was careful, not prying, not judgmental. Just genuinely curious.
You stared at the cup of tea in front of you, untouched. The warmth seeped into the table, but you had no appetite to even lift it. Your stomach felt tight, knotted from stress and exhaustion. You clasped your hands together in your lap instead, fingers fidgeting restlessly.
“It has been a rollercoaster..”you admitted after a moment, letting out a slow breath. “After I graduated, I got a stable job. I stayed there for a year. Things were finally starting to look okay.”Your voice faltered slightly as memories surfaced.
“But then,” you continued, swallowing hard, “a colleague who never liked me started spreading rumors. She smiled to my face and stabbed me in the back. Said things that weren’t true. And people believed her.”You shook your head, staring down at your hands like they held the answers you never found. “Before I could even defend myself, I was called into a meeting. They said it would be better if I left. Just like that, it was over.”
You exhaled shakily. “Since then, everything has just… fallen apart.” The room felt heavier as you spoke.
“My landlord keeps spamming me,” you added quietly. “Reminders. Warnings. Threats. I have not paid rent yet because I don’t have the money. And every message feels like another nail in the coffin.”Your shoulders slumped as the weight of it all pressed down on you. “I’m trying. I really am. But it feels like no matter what I do, I am always one step away from losing everything.”
Kaori’s expression softened immediately. She set her teacup down on the table with a quiet clink and turned fully toward you, brows knit with concern. Her eyes held nothing but empathy. “I’m really sorry to hear that.”she said softly. “That sounds incredibly hard.”
She hesitated before speaking again. “You know… you could have reached out. The moment you lost your job, you could have told someone. Me, Your family, Anyone.”Her words were gentle, but they still hit.
You gave a small, tired smile and shook your head. “It’s alright.”you said, though your voice lacked absolution. “I guess I am just too..independent for my own good.”
You shrugged weakly. “I always tell myself I can handle things on my own. That I should be able to. I hate feeling like a burden.”
Your fingers tightened together. “So I kept telling myself it would get better. That I would fix it before anyone noticed how bad things were.”
You laughed quietly, bitterly. “Turns out, believing you can handle everything alone does not always mean you actually can.”
Kaori watched you closely, her expression thoughtful and concerned. She did not interrupt. She let you speak, let the truth spill out at your own pace. “You are not selfish for struggling.”she said firmly. “And you aren’t weak for needing help.”Her words lingered in the air, heavy and comforting at the same time.
“You wanted to help yourself,” Kaori said softly. “You didn’t want to drag other people into your problems. I understand that.” She stood up from the couch and walked closer to you, her steps unhurried. When she reached your side, she placed a warm hand on your shoulder. The simple touch made your chest tighten, the kindness almost too much after carrying everything alone for so long.
“You have always been like that.” she continued. “Strong, Quietly stubborn, Always convincing yourself you can handle everything by yourself.”Her hand gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze.
“But it is never selfish to ask for a hand,” she said firmly. “Not when you are drowning, Not when you are exhausted.”
You blinked, eyes stinging as you held back your tears.
“You can always borrow some money,” she added, her voice calm and practical. “That’s what people do. And when you get your job back, or find a new one, you can repay whoever helped you. It doesn’t make you weak. It makes you human.” She smiled softly at you then, reassuring and sincere. The kind of smile that did not demand anything in return.
Before you could respond, footsteps suddenly echoed from down the hallway. Then Jin burst into the room without warning. “Hey..”he announced, a little too loudly, clearly oblivious to the emotional atmosphere he had just walked into.
Perched on his back was a small boy, clinging tightly to Jin’s shoulders in a piggyback ride. The child laughed loudly, tiny hands tangled in Jin’s hair as he bounced slightly with every step. Your breath caught, The boy looked exactly like Jin. The same messy hair. The same face shape. Even the same expression, wide-eyed and curious. It hit you all at once.
So that is their son, Yuji Itadori.
“Hon,” Kaori said immediately, turning toward them with a glare that was half annoyance and half affection. “Don’t just barge in like that. We were having a moment here.”Jin paused mid-step, finally registering the tension in the room. “Oh..” he said, blinking. “Sorry.”
Kaori sighed and shook her head. “Put Yuji down. He might fall.”
“Hey, hey, I have got him,” Jin protested lightly, but his grip tightened protectively anyway. “Right, champ?”
Yuji giggled again, burying his face against Jin’s neck. “Up! Up!”
You watched silently, heart aching in ways you did not expect. Jin laughed softly, that familiar sound you had not heard in years, as he carefully lowered Yuji to the floor.
Jin shook his head at Yuji’s request, the movement firm but gentle. “No more..”he said, his voice carrying the tone of a father who had already given in one too many times that morning.
He carefully lifted Yuji off his back and set him down on the tiled floor. The moment his feet touched the ground, Yuji let out a small whine of protest. “Up!”Yuji complained, arms reaching out again.
“Later,” Jin replied, ruffling his hair. “Daddy’s back hurts.”Yuji’s lips immediately pushed into a pout, his brows furrowing dramatically as he crossed his tiny arms. He stood there for a moment, clearly offended by the injustice of it all.
Then his attention shifted. Slowly, his eyes drifted back to you. He stared openly, curiosity written all over his face. His head tilted to one side as if he were studying you, trying to piece together who you were and why you were there.
“Who this?” he asked bluntly, pointing at you again, his small finger unwavering.
The room felt oddly quiet, like everyone was waiting for the answer. Kaori laughed softly, the sound light and warm, breaking the tension. She crouched down beside Yuji and gently patted his head, smoothing down his unruly hair.
“Yuji,”she said in a gentle, patient tone, “this is your babysitter for a while.”
Yuji blinked at her. “She is going to take care of you for a few days,” Kaori continued, smiling at you before looking back at him. “So you have to be nice to her, okay?”
Yuji turned his gaze back to you, eyes big and thoughtful. He took a step closer, then another, until he was standing right in front of you. You could see the faint smudges on his cheeks, the way his fingers fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. “A few days?” he repeated slowly, testing the words.
“Yes,” Kaori confirmed. “Just a few days.”
Yuji looked up at you again, as if observing you entirely. He circled you once, his eyes squinting before he tugged the hem of your jacket.
Yuji stopped right in front of you, his small feet covered in socks planted firmly on the floor. He looked up, eyes wide and curious, studying your face like he was trying to solve a puzzle. His head tilted slightly, just like Jin’s did when he was thinking hard about something.
“You play?” he asked simply, voice clear and direct. The question caught you completely off guard.
You blinked, your thoughts scrambling. Play? It sounded so small, so innocent, yet it carried so much weight. You hadn’g played with a kid in a long time. Life had been survival, stress, and responsibility for years now. Still, you found yourself softening under his gaze.
“I… yeah.”you answered gently, your voice quieter than usual. You offered him a small, careful smile. “I can play.”
Yuji didn’t respond right away.
Instead, he stared at you with intense seriousness, lips pursed as if he were weighing your answer. His tiny brows furrowed, and for a moment he looked like he was considering something very important. Then he nodded once, decisively.
“Okay..”he said, tone firm despite his size. “You stay!”
The finality of it made something warm bloom in your chest.
Kaori let out another soft laugh, shaking her head fondly as she watched him. “Looks like you have been accepted.” she teased, amusement lacing her voice.
Jin exhaled slowly, tension visibly leaving his shoulders. His posture relaxed, and for the first time since you arrived, he looked relieved. “Guess that settles it.”he said with a small smile.
Before you could fully process what just happened, Yuji reached out and wrapped his tiny hand around your finger. His grip was warm and surprisingly strong, grounding you in a way you did not expect.
You looked down at him, heart tightening.
In that simple moment, you realized something important. Whatever complicated feelings you carried about Jin, about Kaori, about the life you had stepped back into, this child had already claimed a place for you. Ready or not, Yuji was pulling you into his stack of toys, and there was no turning back now.
—
You were on the floor with Yuji for what felt like forever, though when you checked the clock it had only been an hour. Time moved differently when you were following the rules of a child’s imagination. Around you, the living room had transformed from a simple family space into a battlefield, toys scattered everywhere like props in an epic showdown.
In the background, you could hear Jin and Kaori moving around the house, doors opening and closing, the faint sound of drawers sliding, their voices drifting in and out as they got ready for their two day date. Every now and then, Kaori would peek into the living room, smiling at the sight of you fully locked in on Yuji’s world.
Yuji had been very clear about the roles. There was no fighting about it. He was the superhero, You were the evil villain.
“Bad guy!” Yuji announced dramatically, pointing at you with one tiny finger. “You go there.” You obeyed, settling yourself behind the couch where he said the villain’s hideout was. He rummaged through a box of dress up items and pulled out a headband with soft devil horns. Before you could protest, he plopped it onto your head.
“There!” he said, nodding in approval. “You look evil now.” You laughed and grabbed a blanket, draping it over your shoulders like a cape. It slipped awkwardly, but Yuji didn’t seem to mind. In his eyes, you were already the perfect villain.
Straightening up, you put on your best exaggerated posture and gave an overly dramatic laugh, deepening your voice as much as you could. “Mwah, hah, hah,” you cackled, waving your arms menacingly. “You will never catch me, Super Yuji!”
Yuji gasped loudly and ran off to prepare, disappearing behind the couch for a moment. When he reappeared, he looked entirely different.
He stood tall, chest puffed out, wearing a bright red eye mask that sat slightly crooked on his face. A red cape was tied around his neck, clearly another blanket, its ends dragging behind him. He positioned himself carefully beside a standing fan, turning it on low so the fabric fluttered dramatically behind him.
He turned slowly to face you, hands on his hips. “Ms. Bad Guy,” he declared in a serious, heroic voice far too big for his small body. “You will regret what you did to my people!”
You had to bite your lip to keep from laughing. “Oh no!”you replied, clutching your cape and stepping back dramatically. “Not Super Yuji. Anyone but him!”
Yuji narrowed his eyes, fully committed to the role. He marched forward, cape flowing, pointing at you again. “Give back the toys you stole!”
You stumbled backward exaggeratedly, knocking over a pillow on purpose. “Never!”you cried. “They are mine now.”
From the hallway, you heard Kaori laugh softly, and Jin paused to watch for a moment, his expression unreadable as he took in the scene. You didn’t notice them, though. You were too busy being chased across the living room by a tiny superhero.
You scanned the floor dramatically, hands on your hips, as if searching for your next wicked move. Then your eyes landed on it, a small female doll lying forgotten near the coffee table. A slow, mischievous grin spread across your face as you bent down and picked it up, holding it close to your chest like a prized treasure.
“Oh?” you drawled, lowering your voice and turning toward Yuji. “Look what we have here.” You lifted the doll higher so he could see it clearly. “It’s the princess!”
You let out a quiet, evil chuckle, curling your fingers around the doll possessively. “She’s mine now.” you said smugly. “If you want her back, you’ll have to come and save her, superhero.”
Yuji froze for a split second, eyes widening in horror. Then he gasped loudly, his whole body stiffening like a hero who had just been given the most important mission of his life. His eyebrows furrowed, his lips pressed into a determined line as he pointed at you. “Hey!” he shouted, voice sharp with conviction. “Don’t touch the princess!”
You took a step back, clutching the doll tighter as if shielding her from him. “Too late,” you teased. “She belongs to me now.”
That was all it took. Yuji sprang into action, running across the room with his arms stretched out at his sides, making soft “whoosh” noises as he pretended to fly. He zigzagged around the couch, leaped over scattered toys, and ducked dramatically behind a chair, narrating his own movements under his breath like a true superhero.
“I’m coming.” he muttered, then louder, “You’re dead now!”You laughed and bolted toward the other side of the room, deliberately moving just slow enough for him to chase you. You stumbled over nothing, nearly tripping as you spun around, cape flaring behind you. “You’ll never catch me!” you taunted, shaking the doll playfully. “The princess stays with the villain!”
Yuji stopped suddenly, planting his feet apart. He raised both hands in front of him, fingers spread wide, his face scrunched in intense concentration. “I’m making… a power ball!”he announced seriously.
You froze, eyes widening in mock fear. “A power ball? Wait, wait, we can talk about this!”
Yuji grunted softly as if gathering all his strength, then thrust his hands forward. “Hyaaah!”You let out an exaggerated scream, throwing your head back and staggering as if you had been hit by an invisible force. “Aaaah!” you cried, dropping to your knees and loosening your grip on the doll. “You got me! No, my evil powers!”
The doll slipped from your hands and rolled across the floor toward Yuji. You slumped forward dramatically, one hand pressed to your chest, the other reaching out in surrender. “Fine..”you groaned, defeated. “You win, Super Yuji. You can have the princess back.”
Yuji rushed forward immediately, scooping the doll into his arms like a true rescuer. He stood tall again, chest puffed out, cape fluttering slightly from the fan still running nearby. “The princess is safe!”he declared proudly.
And as you looked up at him from the floor, watching the victorious smile spread across his face, you realized that for the first time in a long while, your laughter was real, and your heart felt just a little bit lighter.
——
You sank deeper into the couch, your muscles finally giving up after hours of chasing, laughing, crawling on the floor, and dramatic villain defeats. The living room had gone quiet in a way that only happened after a child burned through every last ounce of energy they had.
Yuji was sprawled beside you, fast asleep. His small body leaned against your side, his chest rising and falling steadily. The red cape was still tied around his neck, slightly twisted, one corner tucked under his chin. One of his hands rested loosely on your sleeve, fingers curled like he had grabbed onto you sometime during sleep and never let go. His face was peaceful now, lashes resting against his cheeks, lips parted just a little.
You did not realize how tense you had been until you exhaled slowly, carefully, afraid that even breathing too loudly might wake him. From the doorway, Jin stood watching the two of you.
For a moment, he said nothing. His shoulders relaxed, a small smile tugging at his lips, something soft and almost nostalgic in his eyes. He hadn’t seen Yuji sleep like that with someone unfamiliar in a long time.
“Take care of him for me, buddy.”Jin said quietly, voice gentle, almost hesitant, as if he did not want to break the moment.
You glanced up at him and nodded. “I will.”you replied just as softly.
Kaori appeared behind him, slipping her shoes on. Before leaving, she leaned around Jin to peek at the couch one last time. Her eyes softened instantly. “He is really knocked out..”she whispered with a small laugh. “He already likes you. I can see it.” She met your gaze, warmth filling her expression. “You are doing a good job.”
You felt something tighten in your chest at her words. “Thank you, take care you two.”you murmured.
She waved gently, Jin followed suit with an awkward little wave of his own, and then the door closed quietly behind them.
The house felt different after that. Too quiet. Too still. You looked back down at Yuji, asleep against you, and for reasons you could not explain, your chest ached.
You had only known this kid for a few hours, yet he already felt familiar. Too familiar. His expressions, the way his brows furrowed when he concentrated, the way he laughed loudly and without restraint. He reminded you so much of Jin that it hurt. A living reminder that Jin had moved on, built a family, continued his life while you had stayed behind with feelings you never allowed yourself to release.
You swallowed and gently adjusted the cape around Yuji so it would not choke him. Maybe, just maybe, babysitting was not so bad. At least not when it was him.
⸻
The days passed faster than you expected.
Babysitting Yuji was chaotic in every possible way. He talked nonstop, ran everywhere, asked endless questions, and somehow managed to create messes even when you were watching him directly. You got headaches more often than not, your patience tested constantly, but somehow, none of it felt unbearable.
He was sweet, Loud, Curious, Affectionate in the most unexpected ways.
He insisted on holding your hand when crossing the street. He followed you around the house like a shadow. He demanded bedtime stories and complained when you did the voices wrong. He laughed like it was the easiest thing in the world.
When Jin and Kaori finally returned from their date, the house felt full again, but the moment carried a quiet sadness. Yuji clung to you the second he realized you were leaving.
“Papa, I want her to stay!”he whined, tugging at Jin’s trousers, his lower lip jutting out dramatically.
Jin crouched down and gently placed a hand on his son’s shoulder. “Yuji, she has her own life too,” he said softly. “She will visit if she wants to, okay?”
You watched silently as Kaori approached you with the envelope. When you opened it, your breath caught. It was more than what was agreed on. Much more. You looked up at her, startled.
She smiled knowingly. “Take care of yourself,” she said gently.
Your gaze drifted back to Yuji. The way he looked at you made your chest tighten again. This might be the last time you saw him. That thought alone made your throat ache.
Before you could stop yourself, the words slipped out.
“Hey,” you said to Kaori, voice hesitant. “Can I… babysit Yuji again on the weekends?” The room went quiet. Jin blinked. Kaori stared at you for a second, then burst into soft laughter.
“You don’t even have to ask,” she said, waving her hand dismissively. “Yuji clearly likes you. Look at him.”
Yuji had already started bouncing in place, excitement completely overtaking his sadness.
“Then it’s settled,” you said with a small smile, crouching down to pat his head. “I will come back on Saturday.”
Yuji grinned like he had just won the lottery. You waved goodbye, forcing yourself not to linger too long.
That night, you paid your rent, bought groceries, and laid down on your bed with a full stomach and a roof over your head. Relief washed over you, heavy and overwhelming. Yet even then, your thoughts drifted back to that house. To Jin. To Kaori. To Yuji laughing as he pretended to fly.
You wanted to be there again.
So when Saturday arrived, you did not hesitate.
You got into your car, drove straight there, parked unevenly in front of the house in your haste, and rang the doorbell. You expected Jin’s awkward smile. Or Kaori’s warm greeting.
Instead, the door opened to someone else entirely.
He was tall. Much taller than Jin. Strawberry blonde hair, messy and untamed. Crimson eyes sharper, colder, staring straight through you. His tank top barely covered his arms, muscles tense beneath inked skin. Multiple piercings lined his ears. The smell of cigarettes and weed clung to him like a second skin.
He looked dangerous. Unapproachable. Almost unreal. He scowled down at you. “Who the fuck are you?” Your mind went blank.
Before you could answer, your phone buzzed. A message from Jin.
“Hey, buddy. Sorry for the late warning. Me and Kaori went out yesterday and I completely forgot to tell you. My brother Sukuna is there, Yuji’s uncle. Gotta warn you, he is scary. Do not push his buttons. Take care.”
warnings: parental validation seeking / mutual hatred / SLOWburn / enemies to lovers, currently ENEMIES / broken foot / falling from a high point / teasing / mentions of war
authors: hii guys this is the long awaited new neteyam series! i've decided to do what i wish i had done with the last one. which is making it a slowburn!! i really do like slowburns. fair warning, this will be a SLOWWWW burn. i don't like when slowburns happen and then they kiss in the third chapter. i expect to write a lot of chapters for this one since this one is more fleshed out than my previous story! sorry this chapter is short, im gonna be honest i plan on making each chapter after this 6-10k words
wc: 4.1k
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this is part one!
꣑ৎ ｡°‧⭑.ᐟ
The animosity between Tseyala and Neteyam was so sparse and fraught with tension that one could count their cordial meetings on a single hand—and even that generous estimate felt like a stretch. To the clan, the source of this friction remained an unsolvable riddle. It was as though the Great Mother had spun them from the same cosmic dust on the exact same day, birthing them into the world merely minutes apart, only to curse them with a destiny of eternal rivalry. Theories were traded like gossip around the fire pits.
Some whispered that Tseyala harbored a deep-seated jealousy, bitter that Neteyam, who had breached the womb four minutes before her, seemed to steal the spotlight simply by existing. Others argued the opposite, noting that it was undeniable to the Omatikaya that Tseyala possessed a preternatural gift for near everything she touched. It was only natural, they presumed, that Neteyam, the son of the Olo’eyktan, might harbor a grudge that he wasn't the indisputable best at every turn.
Tseyala's mother would tease often as she braided her daughters hair, or walked through the woods with her. She would jest, stating that only the moonlight knew of the feud between the two young Na'vi, as the night is when secrets creep up your shoulders.
But in the minds of the two young 'evi, the reality was far less simple. Their hatred wasn't born from a single slight or a simple comparison; it was a chaotic storm brewed from everything all at once—jealousy, pressure, and an unnamable instinct to clash.
"Neteyam, stop! This isn't funny!" Tseyala’s squeaky voice cried out, piercing the humid air of the forest.
She sprang up from the ground, her small muscles coiling with effort as she attempted to snatch her small bow out of Neteyam’s grasp. At four and a half years old, she was barely five feet tall, her limbs still lanky and coltish. Neteyam, however, had hit a growth spurt that left him towering over her at a whopping five-foot-five. He loomed like a giant, his silhouette broadening even at that young age.
He smirked down at her, his golden eyes dancing with cruel amusement as he waved the precious weapon just out of her reach, teasing the air above her head.
"Come on, just grab it. Nobody’s stopping you," he taunted, his teasing relentless and brutal in its simplicity.
Tears brimmed in the young girl's wide eyes, stinging with the heat of her frustration. Her tail lashed behind her, snapping through the leaves like a whip, betraying the calm she was trying to fake. Desperation clawed at her chest. With a squeal of determination, she jumped again, pushing off the ground with everything she had.
But gravity was not her friend. Inevitably, her coordination faltered. She stumbled in mid-air, her foot landing awkwardly atop of his.
A sharp hiss of pain escaped Neteyam’s lips as her weight drove down onto his instep. "Gah!" He groaned out, his hands releasing the bow instantly to reach down and clutch his throbbing foot.
The bow slipped from his fingers, tumbling through the air in what felt like slow motion. Tseyala desperately reached out, her fingers brushing the wood, but to no avail. It sailed past her outstretched hand and landed squarely on a jagged, sharp rock.
Snap.
The sound was sickeningly final. The wood splintered, the bow crashing into a million pieces against the unyielding stone.
The forest fell silent for a heartbeat.
Neteyam turned toward the remains of the bow after a moment, his face pale as he registered what his carelessness had wrought. He looked at Tseyala, then back at the broken wood, and let out a bland, uncomfortable "Sorry." It lacked conviction, a hollow word offered to fill the silence.
Even still, Tseyala bit back the venom that rose in her throat. She could scream at him; she could cry and strike him. But she didn't. She swallowed the lump in her throat, squared her shoulders, and simply nodded. She was more mature than this, and she knew it. She would not let him see her crumble.
She turned on her heel, picking up her chin with a dignity that belied her years, and began to walk the other direction.
It irked Neteyam to no end. He watched her retreating back, his brow furrowed in confusion. He couldn't understand why she hadn't exploded. Maybe it was because he had only grabbed her bow to get her attention in the first place, or maybe it was because, deep down, he didn't want her to leave. Her silence was worse than her screams.
꣑ৎ ｡°‧⭑.ᐟ
Nine years had drifted by, transforming the children of the Omatikaya into figures poised on the precipice of adolescence. Tseyala moved with a newfound grace across the long, thick branches of the Hometree, her feet bare and silent against the textured wood.
She was no longer the tiny, clumsy girl who stumbled over roots; she had just begun her Iknimaya training, the sacred rite of passage that would determine her worth as a warrior. For the first time in her life, she felt as though she was standing on top of the world, her spirit buoyed by the promise of the skies and the mountain banshees that awaited her.
But the weight of her lineage pressed heavily against her shoulders. Her mother and father were not merely members of the clan; they were revered warriors, standing at the pinnacle of their years. They were the pillars the people looked to when the Olo’eyktan and Tsahik were occupied with the governance of the clan. To Tseyala, they were the definition of perfection, an unassailable standard of excellence that she was desperate to emulate. She was proud, of course. How could she not be when their blood ran through her veins?
Yet, that pride was constantly crushed by an overwhelming, suffocating need to satisfy them. To be their daughter meant she had to be the best. Anything less felt like a betrayal of their legacy.
The disappointment that she feared felt like a pending doom, a dark cloud hovering on the horizon whenever she made anything less than first in her training exercises. Every missed shot, every stumble, was amplified in her mind into a catastrophic failure.
Seeking solace from the pressure that threatened to crush her chest, she climbed to the very top of the Hometree that night. The wind was cooler at that altitude, brushing against her skin as she gazed up at the beautiful, sprawling starry sky. It was the night before her second day of her Iknimaya, and she had hoped to find clarity in the constellations, to commune with Eywa in silence before the trials continued.
However, the universe had a cruel sense of humor.
Her eyes adjusted to the moonlit gloom, and her heart sank. The silhouette was unmistakable, tall and broad-shouldered against the backdrop of the floating mountains. Neteyam was there. As the eldest son of Jake Sully, he was also undertaking his path to becoming a warrior.
It was all too annoying to see him, the one person who seemed to embody the effortless perfection she killed herself to achieve, intruding on the only moment of peace she had hoped to claim.
With a dramatic, exasperated roll of his golden eyes, Neteyam shifted his weight. He crossed his arms tightly over his chest and wrapped his tail securely around the thick wood of the branch beneath him, anchoring himself with a lazy confidence.
"What are you doing here, skxawng?" Tseyala hissed, the insult rolling off her tongue with practiced ease. She didn't wait for a response; instead, she moved to go further up the branch, putting distance between herself and the source of her irritation.
Taking the movement as a direct challenge, Neteyam didn't hesitate. He pushed himself upright and moved further out along the limb, matching her stride for stride. So she went further, her jaw set in determination. They repeated this childish process, edging closer and closer to the precarious end of the bough, until they were barely dangling off the edge of the massive Hometree. The wind whipped around them, buffeting their loincloths and hair, but neither was willing to back down.
"Give up. I’m always gonna be better. Go farther," Neteyam bit out, his voice cutting through the rush of the air below. He watched with a mix of anticipation and arrogance as she hesitated to take a step further.
The branch was thinning rapidly here, the wood narrowing until it was barely wide enough to support her feet one in front of the other. The leaves were sparse, offering no cover from the terrifying drop that awaited below. Logic screamed at her to stop, to turn back and retreat to safety. But his words churned something deep inside her, igniting that volatile piece of her soul that desperately needed to win, that couldn't stand the thought of him claiming victory over her once again.
So, swallowing her fear, she stepped forward.
Neteyam’s ears flattened instantly against his head, his playful expression evaporating in a heartbeat. The sound of a deafening crack! ripped through the night air, sharp and terrifyingly final.
And just like that, the support beneath her vanished.
Tseyala let out a piercing cry as the branch gave way, her body tumbling backward into the void. She hit protruding branches on the way down, the impacts brutal and jarring as she fell toward the Pandoran surface hundreds of feet below.
"Tseyala!" He called out her name once, panic seizing his throat. "Tseyala!" He screamed it a second time.
All to no response. The forest swallowed her cry, leaving only the rustle of leaves she had disturbed in her descent.
His stomach dropped, gravity pulling it into his throat as he realized what he had done. He abandoned his post immediately, scrambling down the trunk of the Hometree as quickly as his claws would allow. He slid down the rough bark, ignoring the burns it left on his skin, driven by a singular, terrifying purpose.
He hit the ground running, searching the dark grounds surrounding the Hometree with frantic eyes. The bioluminescent flora cast eerie blue shadows, making it hard to see. But then, he spotted her.
She was a heap of blue limbs amidst the glowing grass, her body curled in on itself. Her skin was pale, reflecting the light of the plants around her, but it was her leg that made him freeze. Her foot was twisted in an unnatural way, the bone clearly shifted, the angle wrong and sickening to look at.
He rushed to her side, falling to his knees in the dirt. He shook her shoulders, his grip desperate. "Wake up," he commanded, his voice trembling. He shook and shook and shook, willing her eyes to open, to hear him. But she remained limp, her head lolling heavily against his hands.
Once Neteyam came to the crushing realization that she wasn’t waking up anytime soon, the reality of his nightmare set in. He didn't think; he acted. He scooped her up as gently as he could, cradling her broken body against his chest, and rushed back toward the Hometree with breathless speed.
Tears blurred his vision as he ran. "Help! Please, help!" His voice came out in broken screams, raw and ragged, echoing through the village as he burst into the clearing. He didn't stop until he reached the healing shack, rushing to his grandmother with her limp body in his arms, his heart breaking with every step.
When the elders and her parents inevitably descended upon him with questions, demanding to know how their promising daughter had taken such a catastrophic fall, Neteyam would lie. The falsehood slipped from his lips with a practiced ease, woven with a silver tongue that was maturing far too quickly. He claimed she had slipped, that the bark had been mossy and deceptive, that it was a terrible accident. He lied so smoothly, his eyes holding a steady, mournful gaze, that he almost believed it himself. Almost.
But in the quiet, solitary moments that followed—when the noise of the concern faded and he was left alone with his thoughts—the illusion would shatter. Whenever he picked up the courage to turn and look at her broken foot, the heavy guilt would swim back up and into his mouth like bile that he could just barely shoot back down. It burned his throat, a reminder of the catalyst for her suffering.
He didn’t know why he had done it. Why he always did it. It was a sickness, a compulsion to push her to the limits he knew all too well, because he had practically studied her. He knew where her insecurities lay, he knew the precise height of her pride, and he knew exactly how much pressure it took to make her crack. It was practically obsession. Though, of course, it was simply so he could become better than her.
When she finally awoke a few nights later, it was late into the shift. The healing hollow was dim, lit only by the soft glow of the bioluminescent moss. Neteyam was stopping by to check on her (of course, meticulously timing it when everyone else was gone). His heart hammered against his ribs as he stepped into the alcove, hoping and praying that the impact had rattled her brain enough to make her forget. He hoped that Tseyala would have miraculously no memory of that night, of the branch, or his words.
Much to his dismay, you remembered everything.
Everything.
Her eyes snapped open the moment he stepped into the light, sharp and clear, unclouded by the haze of injury. "You did this." She hissed, her voice raspy from disuse but dripping with venom. She tried to push herself up, sitting up in the hospital bed, but her angry demeanor instantly shrinking at the pain that shot through her foot and radiated up her entire body. She gasped, falling back against the pillows, but her glare never faltered.
"I can’t train because of you," she choked out, the tears of frustration welling in her eyes—not from the physical pain, but from the ruin of her schedule, her potential.
Neteyam stood frozen near the doorway, his hands hanging useless at his sides. He didn’t know what to say. The words were there, heavy and regretful, sitting on the tip of his tongue. He wanted to apologize, really, he did. He wanted to fall to his knees and beg for her forgiveness, to take back the stupid challenge and the arrogance. But he was too stubborn for that. The defense mechanisms of the Olo’eyktan’s son were too strong, walls built too high to be scaled by something as simple as remorse.
"I hate you, Neteyam!" she screamed, the sound echoing in the small space, raw and broken.
And she meant it. It wasn't the hollow insult of children playing in the dirt, nor the frustrated cry of a girl whose bow was broken. She meant it from that day forward, carving the sentiment into the bedrock of her heart. She hated Neteyam.
꣑ৎ ｡°‧⭑.ᐟ
Tseyala had matured beautifully in her years, shedding the lankiness of her childhood to reveal a woman of striking grace and formidable presence. She was taller now, of course, her limbs having elongated and filled out with the muscle memory of a hunter. Yet, old habits died hard, and her teeth would often clash and grind together at night, knowing that Neteyam was still taller. It was an irritation that gnawed at her—a persistent itch she couldn't scratch. Not by much now, certainly. He stood at an imposing height, almost nine feet, while she was only an inch or two shorter. They stood nearly eye-to-eye, a physical parity that should have satisfied her. But to Tseyala, winning barely was still winning, and that inch he had on her felt like a mountain she had yet to conquer.
Today, the rhythm of her training was interrupted by a summons. She was called to the meeting room located high within the Hallelujah Mountains. The old Hometree was long gone, a memory of wood and smoke lost to the war, but the clan had found new refuge among the floating peaks. Her brows furrowed in deep confusion as she stepped into the carved-out hollow of the room. The air was thick with tension. She assumed she and the other young warriors were being called in for a standard patrol meeting, perhaps to discuss the boundaries of their new territory.
But, to her utter confusion, the room was not filled with the usual crowd of trainees. Only her family and the Sully’s were present. The gravity in the room was palpable, the elders sitting in a semi-circle with expressions that betrayed serious deliberation.
Before she could retreat or ask a question, her mother stepped forward. With a firm hand on her shoulder, her mother guided her, pushing her to stand in a specific spot in the center of the room. Tseyala’s lips parted, letting out an audible, sharp ‘tsk’ of annoyance as she realized exactly where she was being placed—right next to Neteyam.
He stood there, rigid and stoic, looking every bit the future leader he was raised to be. As she shuffled into the space beside him, he glanced toward her. For the first time in years, the pair finally looked at each other properly.
The air between them seemed to still. The childish animosity, the screaming matches, and the petty sabotages of their youth seemed to hang suspended in the space between their faces. There was a silent understanding now, a shared look that passed between their eyes. Neither of them had any idea of what the hell was going on, and for the first time, they were united in their confusion.
"The two of you are being sent to the reef clans."
Neytiri’s voice was blunt, devoid of the gentle cushioning usually reserved for delivering bad news. The words shot into Tseyala like a physical arrow, striking her chest with enough force to knock the wind from her lungs. For a moment, the room spun, the gravity of the statement pulling the floor out from beneath her feet. The reef clans? The Awa'atlu? It was a world away, a different element, a different life.
Beside her, Neteyam let out a short, incredulous chuckle, the sound bouncing off the stone walls. It was a reflex, a defense mechanism against the absurdity of what he had just heard. But the humor died instantly in his throat as he looked from his mother’s stony face to his father’s grim resolve. This was no joke. The silence that followed was heavy enough to drown in.
Then, the protesting began. It erupted like a volcano, chaotic and loud.
"WHAT?!" Tseyala shrieked, her voice cracking as she took a step back, her tail lashing violently behind her.
"Why US?!" Neteyam barked, his brow furrowed deep in confusion. "I am needed here. I cannot just leave the clan!"
"Send HIM, not ME!" Tseyala yelled, pointing an accusing finger at Neteyam’s chest. "He is the heir! Let him go swim with the Metkayina and leave me to do my duty!"
"WHAT? Send her, we don’t need any more strays!" Neteyam shot back, his voice rising to match hers. "She will only slow us down or start a war with her attitude! Send someone else!"
The argument against the families quickly dissolved into one between the two of them, as it always did. They hissed and spat, their faces inches apart, years of pent-up aggression spilling out in a torrent of insults. Their foreheads pressed against each other, teeth bared in primal snarls, the tension in the room skyrocketing until Tseyala’s father had seen enough.
With a heavy grunt of exertion, he stepped between them, using his substantial strength to push them away from each other, physically forcing them apart.
"Enough!" her father roared, his voice silencing the bickering instantly.
Jake Sully stepped forward then, his presence commanding the attention of the room. "You are the best warriors of your generation," he recalled, his tone serious and weighty. He looked at them not as children, but as soldiers.
Tseyala began to smirk proudly, her chest puffing out slightly at the rare, high praise from the Olo’eyktan. It was validation, the one thing she craved most.
"Neteyam is the next Olo’eyktan," Neytiri reminded, pointing a slender finger toward her son, emphasizing the burden he carried. Then she shifted her gaze to Tseyala, her eyes softening just a fraction. "And you are the next war leader, kanu 'eve."
The title hung in the air. War leader. It was a position of immense honor, one that Tseyala had fought for in the training rings every single day.
Neytiri walked over, closing the distance, and placed her large, warm hands onto both of their shoulders. It was a gesture of unity, forced as it was.
Tseyala looked toward Neteyam with a huff, crossing her arms over her chest. Neteyam glanced back at her, his expression mirroring her own mix of annoyance and resignation. They both knew one thing, deep down where their rivalry couldn't touch the truth. She was right.
With the RDA—the Sky People—returning and breathing down the necks of the Omatikaya once more, the threat of extinction was real. The safety of the clan depended on dispersion, on hiding the seeds of the future so the tree could grow again. The only way to keep the rest of the clan safe was for the two strongest families, the two bloodlines most vital to the future leadership, to leave.
"You two must go first to ensure your safety and ours," Tseyala’s father declared, his eyes stern and unyielding as he looked down at the two young leaders. "If anything happens here... if we fall... the next generation must carry on. You two are the future."
The reality settled over them like a heavy, wet blanket. This wasn't a punishment. It was a salvation mission.
So, that night, the air was thick with the scent of damp moss and impending farewells as they climbed on their respective ikran. The beasts chittered and snapped, sensing the tension in their riders as they mounted the saddles. The wind whipped through the high perches of the Hallelujah Mountains, cold and biting.
Tseyala sat tall, her cape draped elegantly over her shoulders, fluttering in the gale. Her battle band was wrapped securely around her temples, the leather worn and familiar against her skin. She looked every bit the warrior she had trained her whole life to be.
The golden-eyed girl smiled toward her family one last time, her heart aching with a sudden, sharp intensity. She couldn't leave like this—not without a moment of warmth. She slid off her ikran’s back, dropping the short distance to the ground, and rushed to her younger siblings. She wrapped them in a tight, crushing hug, squeezing them as if she could transfer her strength to them through her touch.
"Be strong," she whispered into their ears, pulling back to look them in the eye. "No mercy."
A devilish smirk played on their faces, mirroring her own fierce determination. They were her blood, after all.
She stood up once more, composing herself. She walked to where her parents stood, her spine straightening until she stood rigid in front of them. The smile vanished as the nerves began to creep up her shoulders, crawling down her arms like icy spiders. She was terrified. She wouldn't admit it to Neteyam, not even to herself, but the fear of the unknown was a heavy stone in her gut.
"Do not disappoint us, daughter," her father warned, his voice gruff but laced with an emotion he rarely showed. He placed a rough, calloused hand on her shoulder, squeezing it firmly. It was a benediction, and a command.
Her tail curled instinctively between her legs in a display of submission and anxiety she couldn't quite suppress. She nodded swiftly, unable to find her voice. Turning on her heel, she marched back to her ikran, grabbing the leather reins and hauling herself up with a grunt of effort. She didn't look back again; she couldn't.
She was afraid, of course. There was no denying that. The place she had spent her years in, the beautiful forest, was slowly shrinking to a dot behind her as she flew forward, Neteyam flying next to her. They shared a glance, one filled with something other than hatred. With fear. With nerve. With uncertainty.
Tseyala was desperate to know what was to come. To her, to her clan.
The butler's words hang in the air like a spell, confirming what your body already sensed: Oliver carries your baby, a hybrid life sparked from your seed deep in his womb. Surprise hits you first, a jolt through your ancient frame—pregnant? You've claimed countless brides over centuries, rutted them raw during heats past, but none ever swelled with your offspring. Humans were fleeting distractions, their bellies never quickening under your touch. Now, this soft boy, your devoted wife, bears the impossible. Nervousness coils in your gut, unfamiliar and sharp. How do you care for a pregnant mate? You've hoarded gold and razed kingdoms, but tending to swollen curves and impending cries? The thought unravels you—awkward fumblings, sleepless nights pierced by wails, your massive hands too clumsy for fragile new life.
You pace the chamber, mind lost in the haze: Oliver's belly rounding, his tits leaking milk, the child's first squall echoing off stone walls. Annoying cries, demanding feeds, endless needs—gods, what if you fail them? Your claws scrape the floor as doubts swarm, the weight of eternity pressing heavier.
A soft giggle breaks the spiral. Oliver bounds in, his steps light despite the subtle curve already blooming at his midsection. His face lights up with a wide, radiant smile, eyes sparkling as he hops onto you without warning, legs wrapping around your waist. You catch him instinctively, his warmth pressing close. "My lord—husband," he breathes, nuzzling your neck, "I'm so happy. Your child grows inside me. Our baby… it's a miracle." His hands splay over his stomach, voice bubbling with joy, body molding to yours in unshakeable trust.
That cute smile of his—innocent, adoring—melts the tension from your shoulders. You can't help but grin back, pulling him tighter, lips brushing his forehead. "We'll face it together, my wife," you murmur, resolve hardening. No more doubts; with him at your side, even this uncharted path feels conquerable. You kiss him deeply, tongue claiming his mouth as your hands cup his ass, already imagining the changes to come.
Decades unfold like chapters in an endless tome, your lair transforming from solitary hoard to bustling nest. Oliver's immortality blooms alongside his fertility, a gift woven into his veins from the first pup he bore—your ancient essence binding him to you eternally, his body forever young and yielding, womb eager for more. He fathers heirs across a hundred years and beyond, each pregnancy swelling him fuller, his devotion only deepening with every kick and cry.
The eggs come first, laid in silken clutches after heated nights where you fuck him senseless, your cock buried to the hilt in his slick pussy until he clenches and floods around you, essence spilling to quicken life. You tend them together—your massive form coiled protectively around the glowing orbs, Oliver nestled against your side, hand stroking the shells as they warm under your shared heat. When they hatch, hybrid whelps emerge: scaled tails flicking, tiny wings unfurling, eyes gleaming with draconic fire but softened by their mother's gentle features. Oliver coos over them, nursing the hatchlings at his leaking breasts, milk dribbling as their small mouths latch on.
Caring for the brood becomes your rhythm. You hunt vast game to feed their ravenous appetites, teaching them to shift forms—humanoid for subtlety, draconic for flight—while Oliver handles the tender moments, bathing wriggling bodies and soothing fevers with his touch. As they grow into spirited youths, scampering through caverns or soaring on fledgling wings, the lair echoes with laughter and roars, a far cry from your old solitude.
Your favorite ritual emerges amid the chaos: those quiet nursing sessions, when a pup latches to one of Oliver's heavy tits, suckling greedily. You slide in close, mouth descending on the other nipple, tongue swirling around the pebbled peak before you suck hard, drawing forth warm milk that floods your throat, sweet and rich. Oliver moans low, body arching into the dual pull—his free hand threading through your hair, hips grinding against your thigh as arousal builds. "Ah!—husband… they drink from me, and you…Ngh! it feels so good," he whimpers, pussy clenching emptily, juices soaking his thighs. You pull the baby aside as you knead his other breast, milk spraying in arcs, watching his face contort in pleasure, lips parted on gasps. The pup mewls contentedly, oblivious, while you drink deeper, cock hardening against him until you can't resist flipping him over, rutting into his dripping cunt from behind, careful not to disturb the nursing.
Nights when the children finally slumber—rare gems amid their endless energy—you claim him fully. The brood tucked into alcoves or flown out for hunts, leaving your chamber hushed. Oliver spreads for you eagerly, thighs parting to reveal his plump pussy, always ready, lips glistening. "Fuck me, my lord—fill me again," he begs, fingers parting his folds invitingly. You thrust in deep, his walls hugging your thick length, milking you with practiced squeezes born of centuries. You pound him relentlessly—missionary with his legs over your shoulders, driving to his cervix; doggy style, ass rippling with each slap; him riding you reverse, breasts bouncing as he grinds down, pussy swallowing every inch. He cums repeatedly, sobbing your name, body quaking as you flood him with seed, ensuring the next clutch or pup.
Over a hundred years, his belly rounds time and again—triplets one cycle, a dozen eggs the next—each birth strengthening your bond. Your servents had to babysit all your kiddos and always glare at your butler who gave the advice, and then, he acted like he wasn't the one. Oliver bears sons with your fire, daughters with his softness, all immortal like you, a lineage to rival gods. Oliver, your eternal wife, glows with purpose, body marked by stretch marks you trace with your tongue, scars you kiss during fucks. You suckle from him post-birth, sharing the milk meant for whelps, his moans echoing as you finger his recovering pussy back to readiness.
Through it all, your nervousness fades to fierce protectiveness. You face the cries, the messes, the joys—with Oliver hopping into your arms at every milestone, his smile your anchor. Your family sprawls across eras, a chaotic empire of your making, nights sealed with his pussy clenching around your cock, whispers of "More… give me more of you."
➺ Summary: “I always suspected you were on that side of things.”
Or Alastor discovering his wife's thoughts about their marriage.
➺ Warning: S2 Spoiler I think
➺ Author’s note : Season 2 of Hazbin Hotel brought me back from the dead… and so did the TikTok edits on Alastor. I'm a bit of a simp. I was supposed to write a one-shot, but my friend convinced me to make a short series about this idea, so I'm going to give it a try and hope you like it! English isn't my native language, so I apologise for any mistakes. I'll do my best to make it enjoyable to read!
443 words || 2,5k
Chapter I - Chapter II - Chapter III - Chapter IV - Chapter V - Chapter VI - Chapter VII
The erratic gasps of the two Overlords broke the frenzied rhythm of their verbal jousting, which had taken the form of a song in which each tried to crush the other's ego. A song whose sole purpose was to mock the other. The faces of the Radio Demon and the Television Demon were so close that a single jolt, a loss of balance by one of them, would have been enough for their lips to meet with the same passionate fervour they had shared less than a minute earlier. The electric atmosphere left little room for the two spectators of the scene, who, with a questioning glance from the corner of their eyes, unanimously agreed to break the heavy atmosphere.
‘Hey, you two should just fuck already. Can I film it?’ Valentino enthused in his voice full of salacious innuendo.
‘I always suspected you were on that side of things, mon cher,’ said the fallen angel, at the same time as her observant colleague.
Valentino, perched on a table, lying on his stomach, took a small camera out of his fur coat. Where exactly he had stored it in a garment that did not appear to have any pockets was an unsolved mystery. Beside him was the silhouette of a woman trapped on an office chair, sealed between Vox's cables. With her legs crossed, she had been watching their exchange since the first day of her scarlet partner's captivity, a spectator to this verbal jousting, to their pettiness that resembled flirting.
‘Excuse me, ma chère? What did you just say?’ Alastor asked, surprised, his eternal smile widening, tense from your sudden declaration. His face turned abruptly in your direction, accompanied by a sharp crack in his neck that made you wince, as if you shared his pain. It was shocking news, to say the least.
‘Oh, don't worry, I'm not going to judge you for that, mon amour.’ You assured him in a honeyed voice that nevertheless betrayed your complete disinterest, entirely convinced of your deduction built up over decades, even almost a century. ‘After our third wedding anniversary, I already knew.’
Your arms held at your sides, unable to shrug your shoulders, your wings rose, emphasising your indifference to your words. As if your words were not shaking your husband's understanding of the state of your marriage. The pieces of a century-old puzzle began to quickly fall into place in his mind; one could almost hear the gears of an old machine whirring at full speed to assimilate this crucial information as quickly as possible.
‘We'll need details.’ Valentino interjected, breaking the silence once again. He himself was interested in this story.
