#fatebond

“so... would you allow me to hold your hand? since we are friends?” idiot. you are married.

   “Suzie, my dear...”

   Joseph felt like they’ve had the exact same conversation at least once a month. But he knew he had only himself to blame for picking an Italian woman as a wife. 

   “Are you absolutely sure you needed to buy three dresses this week?”

   It’s not that he was against his wife dressing up well. But he wasn’t exactly fond of seeing the numbers in his bank account drop rather than go up.

rude?

thank GOD

『ＳＴＩＣＫＹ ＦＩＮＧＥＲＳ』

how long could fugo maintain this indifference before it’s mad descent? in these past couple of days he feels like he’s being pulled like a string, taught, tightened, taught. this repetitive cycle kept fugo from finding just an hours worth of time for himself. the stress only coiled tighter in the back of his thoughts and it left an weight across his shoulders and strained what felt ‘right’ in his heart. though he was sure everyone else felt the same; but every sense, and rationality pointed to the direction that this was only going to get worse. 

he hadn’t made it a habit of watching trish out of the corner of his eye, but bruno had given him no other assignment. if anything fugo could at least make sure that his emotions didn’t show on his sleeve, and if that was enough security then the teen could make it work for now.

he didn’t really care to learn about what trish was up too with his sleeve. for all he knew she could have been wiping her face on it. it didn’t seem too out of character coming from her and fugo had already been generous when she used his shirt to clean her hands. his attention drew as she pulled on him and he couldn’t stop starting at her now as she wrapped her arms around him. 

fugo wasn’t sure what to make of this, but with his unpinned arm he couldn’t exactly reach back over themselves to return her hug in kind. so his hand settled on her forearm; gently rubbing smooth circles along her skin.

No-- this must be some kind of cruel joke.  Yoshikage Kira always thought the afterlife would be this vast area of nothingness and yet here he was fully aware only to be approached by none other than Reimi Sugimoto herself. He felt himself wanting to laugh at how uneasy this situation was making him feel. As much as he would love to turn away to run he could feel several hands pushing him forward closer to Reimi rather than away from here. 

He watches, interested from a scientific standpoint, as if he’s mentally dissecting Kingu down to components. He could. It’s possible. Though more specifically, Kingu is a type of entity that seems half-familiar. Not quite the ‘different thing’ that are Shadow Servants, but unfamiliar thoughts in a body that the database finds familiar.

Not that he’s ever met Enkidu. But Archimedes reads the records.