#[ the things she did and said the anger she had because I was so scared ]

[frankenkyle19]

I’ve Always Been Right Here

this is a little fic I wrote about Peter and Erik actually discussing everything because the movies suck and never let us see them have any sort of father/son relationship :(. I’ve been obsessed with dadneto lately so like obviously I had to write this. And sad Peter :( but it’s okay because it’s a happy ending! This takes place after Apocalypse where Erik ended up staying or whatever idk :/ the x-men timeline scares me and I try not to think too much about it. Enjoy!

word count: 1.7k words

Charles had been pushing both parties involved to talk about it. Little encouragements here and there because unbeknownst to Peter, Erik did know that he was his child. Had found out a while ago from Charles himself and decided not to say anything. He had good reasoning but was sure Peter wouldn’t see reason in anything once he found out he knew and hadn’t come to talk to him about it. The poor kid was just as stubborn as he was. 

Charles kept pushing the two of them together. Probably thought he was being helpful but really he was not. The atmosphere between them was always tense, the both of them walking on eggshells around the other, careful with what they said. It was awful for both of them. All the other X-men noticed it too. 

Finally one night after dinner at the mansion Peter had had enough. Him and Erik were the last two at the table to clean up and he thought about it all for a moment before it just became too much and he picked up his plate, slamming it down so hard against the wood that it broke in his hands.

“I’m your son! There, dammit I said it! I’m your fucking son. Remember now? Leaving my mom while she was pregnant because you were so scared to have a family. You left her to figure it all out on her own! And where were you when I needed to learn how to ride a bike or throw a football?! You weren’t there! You’re my father and you’ve…” Peter’s voice broke as he blinked rapidly, trying his hardest to avoid tears as years of anger and resentment flew from his mouth without any warning. 

“You’re telling me you didn’t know? When I broke you out of the Pentagon you just…” He trailed off, shaking his head as he paced back and forth. He had half a mind to punch the stupid son of a bitch right in the face, but he didn’t.

“You never wanted to find me? Weren’t interested in seeing how your kid turned out? Well here I am. HERE I AM!. I was waiting to see how long it would take you to notice but I guess I gave up.”

Silence fell between the two of them, both refusing to look at each other. 

“Peter…” Erik started, trying to de-escalate the situation which was almost comical. He’d never been the level headed one before. 

“I don’t expect you to understand.. My life… I have been through hell. I was trying to spare you from it all. And selfishly.. I was scared.” He admitted, finally looking at Peter now, who was shaking with barely restrained anger.

“I was scared because I didn’t know what to do with a child..” 

“Well you could have figured it out. I don’t want to hear excuses, that’s not… Not going to fix things now. I’m not even sure if things can be fixed. Y’know, I remember seeing you on the news after I broke you out of prison. Something clicked in my mind that you were my dad. I’m surprised it took me as long as I did but I’ve never been known to be the smartest.. My mom told me I should be afraid of you but I told her I wasn’t.. I’m not afraid of you.”

Erik looked at him befuddled for a moment before he shook his head, deciding to sit back down in his chair. This conversation was probably going to be a long one.

“I don’t want you to be scared, Peter. I’ve never wanted you to be scared. I.. I truthfully don’t have an excuse for what I did to you and to your mother. I am sorry.”

Peter must not have been expecting him to apologize so easily because he looked at him in shock, hands shaking around the broken pieces of plate he still held, eyes welling with tears. Shakily he sat down in his seat at the table, setting the pieces of the plate down before he clenched his fists, hard. Dammit! He didn’t want to cry..

“I’m here now, Peter. And I’ll explain it all to you if you want. Any questions you have, I’ll answer them.”

“When did you know? When did you know I was your son?” Peter asked, sniffling softly as he wiped the tears from his eyes before they had the chance to fall. 

“Charles informed me. Well… He confirmed it. I’d had my suspicions since Apocalypse. The way you looked at me… I realized it then but I didn’t want to accept it. Especially not in that moment.”

Peter took a deep breath before nodding. Right now Erik was an open book and was going to answer any of his questions so now was the time. 

“Am I the only one? Kid of yours I mean.. Do I have any siblings I don’t know about? I’ve got my little sis but like.. I dunno it was a dumb question-“

“Nina.” Erik said, a sad look coming over his face. He didn’t look at Peter now, instead he looked at the broken pieces of the plate in front of him. His boy. 

“She was your little sister. She was- Everything to me. My whole world.”

Peter perked up for a moment before the tone of Erik’s voice and the look in his eyes had him expecting the worst. An uneasiness took hold in his stomach now, churning. He felt like he knew what Erik was going to say but he didn’t want him to say it. It would hurt him worse then he’d expect it to.

“She was killed. By humans..” anger rose up in Erik’s voice now as he spoke. He was still so bitter to the humans because they’d caused him nothing but suffering. He recalled that grim day in the woods. How eerily silent it all fell after the fact. The blood on his hands.. It was the worst day of Erik’s entire life and he’d lived through a lot of unimaginable things.

Peter swallowed thickly, zoning out when it was confirmed. He’d had another sister and he’d never gotten to meet her. And now.. she was gone. How weird it was to grieve someone you’ve never met and never would get to. She had still been part of Peter. They’d shared a father after all.

“I-“ Peter started until he felt his voice waver in the back of his throat, eyes burning as he cast his gaze back down to the broken plate. Everything was broken.. Not just the plate, he thought.

He didn’t want to ask how. Knowing she’d been killed was enough. Maybe one day in the future he’d ask for more but neither man was ready for that conversation yet.

Erik moved to pull something out of his pocket, showing Peter the small necklace with a little locket. 

“This is the only thing I have left. They’ve taken everything from me. Everyone I’ve loved.”

Peter’s heart was crushed at the words because… he was sitting right there! He’d always been right here.. Right in front of Erik’s face.. Did he not love him? Did he care at all for him in any sort of way? 

“… I’m right here. I’ve always been right here.. You know how many nights I laid awake crying because I thought I wasn’t good enough for you? Every time me and mom passed a man on the street I’d wonder. Wonder if maybe one of them was you. I wondered why as a child my father didn’t love me enough to stay.”

The words stung. They hurt Erik but Peter was far too lost in his emotions to try and hold anything back now. He’d say what he meant, after all he’d been waiting over two decades to say it. 

“Peter please…”

“No!” He yelled, slamming his fists on the table again, just barely avoiding the pieces of the plate. He moved away from the table now, standing in the middle of the dining room as he glared at Erik. “No! You can’t tell me what to do and you can’t tell me to stop. You ruined my life!! You ruined my life by not being in it!” Peter’s tears fell heavy now. The weight of the past two decades washed over him in waves. A choked sob clawed its way up his throat and he tried hard to not let it out but it did. All of his brokenness was on display. He wasn’t just the weird silver haired speedster who cracked jokes at the most inconvenient times. He was a person with real feelings, many of them ugly.

He pawed at his eyes with the palms of his hands, an angry sigh slipping from his lips. He’d been so focused on not letting Erik see him like this, faced away from him that he also hadn’t noticed that he’d gotten up from his chair and made his way over to him. 

Peter flinched when Erik wrapped his arms around him and cradled his head to his chest. He felt sick because fuck he’d needed this hug for years now. Something he’d never thought he’d get, here it was. 

He tensed for just a moment before he hugged back, practically clutching onto Erik’s shirt as he cried into his chest. Cried into his father’s chest. His dad. This was his dad.. It had all hit him and he was spiraling.

Erik held him through the tears, the quiet sobs that wracked his whole body. He held him through it, still in disbelief that this was the first time he’d held him. He never got to hold him as a baby, never got to watch him grow up. In so many ways he’d failed him. Never again. 

He pressed his face into his silver hair, letting out a shaky exhale. “I’m here now Peter. I promise. I’m going to be here for you from here on out.”

It went on like that for longer than either of them cared to count until eventually Peter pulled away shakily, letting out a half hearted laugh at how wet Erik’s shirt had become after soaking up all of his tears.

Their eyes met, Peter’s brow furrowed in such a similar way to Erik’s that for the first time it was so obvious that they were related.

Erik reached out and patted Peter’s shoulder gently, giving it a squeeze before letting go.

“It’s late, you should head to bed, kiddo.” 

“I know.” Peter zipped around the room, cleaning up the mess he’d made before he stopped in the doorway, glancing back at Erik.

“Hey-“

“Yes?”

“Goodnight, Dad.”

“Goodnight, son.”

[darnell-la]

can we get some nsfw of logan heavily infantilizing reader? i know he's a mean mean man and i want him to make us cry 🥺 just wanna be doted on but also fucked like a beast

note: Logan is a very nasty individual in this story. He’s degrading, calls the reader out of her name many times, fucks rough, is manipulative, possessive, and more…

having Logan Howlett claim you are one of the best-given things that could happen.

———

How do you guys feel about a x men story with reader? Logan being rude Logan at first, then slowly shows small affection towards the reader. Jealousy and things of that sort. They soon hit it off, and after Logan starts acting rude again, because he’s scared of the love he grew for her. It’ll be a long story, but something to read at night. ALL ON WATTPAD! Comment below, please!

———

“You’re so fuckin’ childish, y/n, do you know that!? So fuckin’ childish!” Logan shouted at the girl as he placed her into his passenger seat. The man slammed the door in her face before walking around to the car.

Y/m scoffed as she crossed her arms, knowing she was wrong for what she’d done tonight, but at least she had fun.

Logan treats y/n like she has no idea what the world is like. Wade speaks to him, telling him he should take it easy because is his friend. Not Logan’s.

“Well, if I’m gonna stay in an apartment with two kids, I expect them to have manners and respect. If not, then I’m out of here,” Logan threatened a few months ago when he first got here.

Y/n had come home drunk out of her mind at three in the morning after Logan and Wade had been worried all night.

Her phone had died. She explained that to them, and Wade understood, but when she came through that door smiling, laughing, and giggling with the friend who dropped her off, it triggered Logan.

“I know pay the bills, and the apartment is his, but I’ll kick you the fuck out, kid,” Logan threatened as he got into the car and started it up, ready to get home and rest without stressing about y/n.

“I’m a grown woman, Logan. If I wanna go out and get drunk with my friends, I can!” Y/n turned towards the man just to yell before turning back towards the door, looking out of the window.

“What kinda fun is that, y/n? You’re a college student, you’ve got classes in the afternoon, you need to study, but instead, you’re out almost every weekend, pissy drunk and begging for a man to touch you,”

“What!? I don’t even go out with men! I reject them all,” y/n said, confused about why he even cared about her getting with anyone.

“Sure you don’t. Every time I pick you up or you walk through that door, you’re dressed sluttier. Every fucking time!” Logan yelled, hands groping the wheel as he drove through the city to head home.

“At this point, you’re just stressing yourself out. Let me live my life like I let you, okay? Fuck!” Y/n complained.

“So slutting around is living life now? God, you kids are fucking dumb,” Logan shook his head. “I don’t slut around!” Y/n basically screamed at the man.

“Lower your fucking tone when you talk to me, young lady!” Logan looked her way. The anger in his voice made her back up, trying to keep a straight face, but it was hard.

“Always fuckin’ yellin'. Can you ever shut the fuck up for once? Just do better in life and shut the fuck up — Grow up! Because you’re a-fucking-nnoying,” the man got out.

Y/n looked out of the window in silence, holding back her tears as the man continued.

“Be a fuckin’ lady, and respect yourself for once. For once!” He hit the wheel, making the girl jump. “Respect me!” The man hit the wheel again, but harder.

Y/n wiped a tear from her cheek quickly so he wouldn’t notice, but he did. Once he did, the man laughed to himself. “Unbelievable,” the man shook his head, disappointed in her.

“You can yell at me, but when I start yellin’ and tellin’ you what you look like, you start carrying. Fucking pathetic. Seriously!”

Logan didn’t mean to hurt the girl's feelings. He was just angry. He hated seeing her out and doing things he didn’t want her to do. Why can’t she just listen to him? Why does she need other people to make her happy when she has Wade and him at home.

The rest of the car ride was silent. Y/n wouldn’t sniff here and there, but low so she wouldn’t start Logan up again. She was embarrassed and disappointed in herself.

Right as Logan parked the car, y/n pulled on the handle to get out, but he had locked the door before she could.

“Looks y/n-“ Logan went to say, but y/n cut him off. “Let me out,” y/n said with a stern voice. “Y/n, just hear me out-“ he tried to say again. “Let me out!” She yelled, not even looking at the man.

“Hey!” Logan reached for her arm and grabbed it tightly. Y/n tried yanking herself away, but he was stronger. “Let me go!” Y/n yelled, only angering the man further. He had become obvious to the strength he had.

“Ow, Logan!” Y/n shouted at the man, but all he did was grip harder. “Stay still, y/n!” Logan demanded. “You're hurting me!” She finally said as tears streamed from her eyes.

The way she looked at the man in pain, not just from his grip, but more so from his words. Looking into his eyes, he realized he had gone too far.

“Y/n,” Logan said low as she fought the man, slapping his hand, but he wouldn’t let go. He only loosened his grip. “Let me go!” She could barely yell, only cry.

Logan shifted his body and lifted his other hand to cup her cheek. When he did, she tried shaking her head to get him off, but it wouldn’t leave.

“Please!” She cried, but Logan didn’t let her leave. All he did was let her arm go, only to push her seat back and hover over her quickly, the other hand still on her cheek.

“Baby, don’t cry,” Logan said, but she couldn’t stop. She sobbed as she weakly slapped Logan’s body, telling him to leave her alone, but that was the last thing he was going to do.

“Baby, look at him — It’s okay, just look at me,” Logan said as he placed the other hand on her other cheek, forcing her to look at him.

“I’m sorry, y/n, okay? I’m sorry,” Logan spoke. That was when y/n cried harder with no words. “Aw, baby,” Logan said, trying to wipe her tears away, but they kept rolling.

“All I wanted was for you to be safe, baby. That it. It’s dangerous out here. You can’t just be goin’ out every night, looking the way you do. You just can’t,” Logan said.

“If you wanna drink, we got it at the house. You know that. No more goin’ out, and you won’t look like this anymore,” he said, hoping to manipulate her into staying in the house, and in his sight.

“Hey, hey, calm down,” Logan said and kept repeating until she ducked in her cries. It took her a while, but she managed.

“Please understand that I want you safe, y/n. Do you understand that?” Logan asked. Y/n slowly nodded her head with a sniff, making him smile slightly.

“That’s it, baby. All I want is for my baby to be safe — No more goin’ out after tonight. Maybe with me, but I have to be by your side. It’s too dangerous,” he said.

“B-But my friends,” y/n sniffed. “They’ll be fine, baby. They love you and will understand. You want me to trust you and not be stressed out, right? You want me to be? I’m gettin’ old, and ion needa be stressin’ about my girl,” Logan said.

Y/n nodded her head, halfway understanding what he wanted, but not fully. She didn’t ask though. She just knew by the way he always acted that he wanted her in sight and safe with no funny business.

“Good, baby, good,” Logan said, looking into the girl's eyes as she looked back up at him, eyes bloody and eyelashes batting.

“You’re too pretty to be seen without me, baby, and you know that, don’t you? Don’t you, baby?” Logan asked, making her nod again.

“That's right, and you're sorry for disobeying me, right?” He asked. The way he spoke to her, made her feel like she’s actually done something wrong.

“S-Sorry,” she said low. A groan slipped past the man’s lips at her words and voice. She was too sweet to believe she was real.

“Ah huh, and are you gonna show me just how sorry you are?” He asked. Y/n surprisingly nodded quickly, wanting him to know that she meant nothing personal by the way she lived.

“Good girl — Now turn around for me,” Logan said. Her mind wasn’t honking straight, but she did as told, apologizing for her body rubbing on his as she did so. “It’s okay, baby - You’re all good,”

“I’m just a little angry, and you understand that, right? It’s acceptable to why I am, right, baby?” He asked her, making her him with a nod.

“Ah huh, and you’re gonna help me relax, right, baby?” He asked and she repeated what she had done before, but more shaky. “That right,”

Logan began unbuckling his belt, watching the girl underneath him shiver from how drunk she was, the cold air coming through the cracked window, her crying session, and the confusion of this situation.

“Never listenin’ to me, baby. I don’t like that,” Logan said before giving y/n a hard slap on her ass that was covered in her tight thin dress. A whine had slipped from her mouth, only making the man groan.

“Yeah, and I’m gonna bring all this anger right out on and into you, baby,” Logan said as he pulled himself out. “And guess what you’re gonna do. You’re gonna lay here, and take it like the disrespectful little slut you are,”

Y/n whined at his words, feeling shitty for not being respectful towards the older man, but she’ll soon understand to listen.

“Every time I pick you up or watch you walk through those doors, you’re fuckin’ soaked. I just know you’re out and about, waiting for some random man to offer his cock,”

“I know you’re whore enough to take it too, now ain’t you?” Logan asked. “N-No,” y/n shook her head with a whine as he pulled her dress up, revealing her dark wet patch.

“Sure you’re not, baby. You know the drunk sluts always say that, right? Until they’re caught being stuffed and fucked in some bar bathroom,”

Y/n whined again at his comment about what he thought of her as his fingers hooked around her pants. The man pulled his fingers back, causing the panties to rip perfectly.

“You wanna be treated like some dirty slut at the bar?” Logan asked as he put his cock in his hand. “No,” y/n truly spoke, but he didn’t believe her.

The man grabbed a handful of her hair and then pushed her head into the seat. “Are you sure, baby? Because you’re gonna spreading in my passenger seat just like them club whores,”

Before y/n could say anything, the man laughed into her, forcing his huge length through her walls, knowing she would barely be able to take him.

“Logan!” Y/n cried out loud, voice crazy as she gripped and clawed at the seats. “Nah uh, you shut the fuck up!” Logan spat through his teeth as he leaned over and into the girl's ear.

“Pussy’s so fuckin’ wet, I know you want this. You always do. Comin’ back from the fuckin’ bar all soaked and full of attitude. I just know you rub that shit in my face,”

“I fuckin’ know you come through those doors wanting me to fuck your drunk ass through my mattress,” the man snapped his hips hard.

“Oh yeah? Can't take it?” Logan asked as the young girl cried in pain and pleasure. “S-Sorry, sorry,” she quickly whined as she back arched.

“No, you’re fucking not. You’re only sayin’ it now because I’m fucking this cunt dumb,” Logan growled in the girl's ear as he tugged on her hair.

“Slutty fuckin’ cunt - Grippin’ me like she ain’t been fucked in the club already,” Logan said, making the girl shake her head.

“N-No,” she managed to say. “Oh yeah? You’re tellin’ me no man has been in this cunt at the club? Fuckin’ you silly in the bathroom as you pass out from the liquor?” Logan asked.

He had already known the answer, but he was angry. He wanted to get everything out. If he could smell how wet she was every weekend, he could smell a man on her, and thankfully for her, he never has.

“N-No,” y/n whined as she came around him without warning. He hadn’t cared that she soaked his leather seats. All he cared about was how could he could fuck he’d. Maybe if he fucked he’d be good enough, she wouldn’t dare leave the apartment again.

“That’s what I fuckin’ thought. You don’t let another man touch you. Never!” He pounded, knowing the wind out of her with every thrust.

“I swear, if you do, baby, ima kill him. Ima fuckin’ kill him then lock your ass in my room,” Logan threatened, only making y/n moan.

“My fuckin’ cunt — Mine! All fuckin’ mine and you know it. You’ve been known it, Bub, and because you wanted to play games, I’m gonna teach you what the fuck happens when you do,”

Logan took the seatbelt to the car and tied it around her wrist after pulling them man. The man soon continued his anger by slamming into her until she cried, begging him to stop.

He was rough, but y/n knew deep down that she deserved it. She was disrespectful and didn’t listen to him. He should get what he wants.

“You're mine, right, baby? All mine to use like those I want at the bar and club?” Logan asked as y/n could barely keep herself conscious. “Y-Yes,” was all she could get out.

“That’s my girl,”

[coryosbaby]

—Envy

synopsis: your jealousy gets the best of you.

♡ content warning . Mentions of murder, possessiveness, oral, cum play, plinth! reader

“I want to know why you did it.”

Your boyfriend’s voice rings out through your shared room in the capital, an octave lower and in a teasing lilt— maybe not a tone that a normal person who’s discussing murder should have, but nothing about your or Coriolanus’ relationship can be defined as normal.

You know the answer to Coriolanus’ question, though you don’t want to say it. A pout glazes your plump glossed lips as you think back to the scene that has started this conversation.

—

You remember Clemensia’s stupid ponytail, her stupid face, and the way her stupid sharp nails dug into Coriolanus’ shoulder the day before. She was asking to be in that room with you the next day— literally.

It was a class project. One that was for advanced students only, a one-by-one sort of assignment. You were Dr. Gaul’s personal assistant, the youngest ever— although, partner seemed to describe your dynamic with her better. You and Dr. Gaul went way back, and she trusted you.

You and Clemensia were in that brightly lit room you were oh so familiar with. Papers and folders were strewn around a desk nearby— and you and her were both alone. The body of snakes swimming throughout the small pool in the middle of the room had been enticing to stick your hand into. You remember Clemensia’s surprised look of awe as she watched you take one of the snakes trustfully into your grasp. It dripped water but it was beautiful. Its fangs scraped against you, almost teasing. It wanted to stick its teeth into your skin— you knew it did. But you trusted the snakes, and they trusted you. They would not be eating their handler anytime soon.

But maybe they would be eating something else.

Clemensia crouched in your same position; you were on your knees, gently rubbing your cheek against the snake’s rainbow scales. It whispered to you, lulling with soft hisses.

“Would you like to hold it?” You had asked her. “They enjoy a good petting every now and again.”

Clemensia had chuckled nervously, and you could tell by her body language that she was on edge.

“Don’t be silly, [y/n] plinth,” she had answered bleakly. “That snake would surely kill me.”

You remember turning to her. You could remember her brows furrowing, the softness of her skin. Coriolanus liked nice skin.

“I know.” You had said, and the rest was a blur.

A restling of limbs, your hands gripping tightly in her hair. There was splashing, gurgling, snakes crowding the surface. Her whole body had become submerged in that pool, and then you remembered that you had forgot to feed the snakes that day.

—

Thinking about it now, maybe you were a bit dramatic. Coriolanus has made his love for you very clear. There was no reason for such atrocities because of a girl he wasn’t even dating. But they had grown too close, and it had scared you.

Not to mention her excessive gossip about your fashion choices, which really pissed you off. Coriolanus shouldn’t have become friends with her, anyway.

“I told you,” You groan, watching him take a seat across from you. His shirt buttons are undone, just how you like them. “ I didn’t do it. She slipped.”

He doesn’t reply, and you groan.

“Why are you acting as if you didn’t do the same exact thing to that boy from economics class a few months ago, Coryo?”

“He was a complete dick, [y/n]. And a pervert. That was different.”

“I’m sure it was.”

Although Coriolanus should be disturbed, or quite possibly angered with you, he isn’t. You two tell too many secrets to judge. He doesn’t exactly have room to tell you who you should and shouldn’t kill with his past history.

And even so, the boy doesn’t have any room to care for Clemensia’s passing. She isn’t you, so it doesn’t matter.

After a moment of silence, Coriolanus sighs heavily. His thighs spread, and he leans back in his chair.

“But why…” he starts quietly, contemplating, as if this is funny guessing game. “Aren’t you going to tell me why?”

He knows the reason. He’s not stupid, and never has been. But he loves to tease.

“No.”

“Mmm…”

He turns his head to the side. His blonde curls have grown back, and for that you are incredibly grateful because they’re messy and make him look even more attractive. His eyes catch sight of a framed picture beside your bed— you and him, sitting at a shared desk in class. You were smiling at the camera, your favorite outfit on, and Coriolanus was only looking at you.

Smirking, Coriolanus lifts himself up from his chair. Your brows furrow in confusion as he approaches you, his tall form almost intimidating. His smell invades your senses as he leans over your shoulder to whisper into your ear.

“Was it jealousy?”

His tone is dark, flirtatious, and his breath is hot on the shell of your ear. Heat creeps up your neck— no matter how many times he speaks to you in this low tone of voice, it never fails to make your shiver.

You chuckle, your thighs squeezing together when his fingers grip tightly onto your shoulder.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you reply. Your head turns to him, and he’s so close that you can feel his steady breathing. “Besides, I didn’t do it. Like I said— she slipped.”

“Liar.” He says punctually. His fingers grip your chin suddenly, and his grip is harsh. “You didn’t like me with her, did you?”

Your teeth sink into your lower lip, and Coriolanus’ fingers stroke your shoulder softly.

“Did you think she was pretty?” You ask. The boy chuckles, slowly pressing a wet kiss to your jugular that makes something electric zigzag its way through your body.

“No. The only woman who’s pretty to me is you.”

That makes you let out a small sound, and Coriolanus’ body moves to the front of your chair. He falls to his knees, then, the candlelight near the both of you making him look ever so beautiful. His fingers ghost over your skirt, and you whine, squirming in your seat. He pinches the hem, and lifts up the cotton fabric over your thighs. Cute pink panties are shown to him, and he lets out a groan.

“You’re so perfect.” He mutters. He leans in, his breath fanning over you, but he doesn’t get as close as you want. He presses a kiss to your inner thigh.

“Coryo,” you whine, bucking up your hips. “Please. Please eat my pussy.”

He looks up at you, his gaze dark and glazed over with lust.

“Kiss me.” He demands, and you have no choice but to obey. Your hands settle into his golden locks, pulling him up further on his knees so he can gain access to your plump, hot mouth. Your lips slot against his, and it isn’t long before his tongue is grazing the soft flesh. His teeth bite down, nibbling on your lips with ferocious hunger as his fingers dig crescent moons into your thighs. Pulling away, your hands rest on his shoulders. Coriolanus grabs one of them, pulling you so far down that your forehead touches his as he presses your palm against the bulge tight in his pants.

“Do you think Clemensia could make me feel this way, angel? Could make my cock so hard?” He says, and his breath is hot against your open mouth as he utters his next words. “I’m yours.”

You yank your hand away, pulling him into another hot and heated kiss. But not before he’s pulling himself away and sliding your panties down your legs, mouthing at your inner thighs again as your pussy is exposed to him. Coriolanus practically drools, spreading your thighs and shoving his tongue inside your tight, aching hole. His big hands wrap around your thighs, pulling you closer to his mouth. He drinks up your slick with vigor, moaning against your clit as he devours you. Your mouth drops open, whimpers spilling out of you.

“Coryo,” you cry. His tongue moves from your hole to your clit, and he wraps his lips around the swollen bud as your hips buck up into his face.

He hums, savoring the taste of your nectar and grinding his hardened cock into the open air. He slurps into your cunt with everything he has and when you cum around him he drinks up your spend, too. His cock is still aching when he’s done and when he pulls away and wipes his pretty mouth on the back of his sleeve your gesture for him to stand up.

He smiles, watching as you grab his hips and pull them towards your face. You undo his belt, watching the straining fabric as your mouth waters. You pull out his hardened cock, the tip flushed red and dripping precum, and press a light kiss to the tip. Coriolanus shutters, letting out a tiny breath of air as he watches you press kiss upon lipstick stained kiss to his thick length. After a moment he grabs your hair and gently pulls you back from his cock.

“No,” he murmurs, when you try to put your mouth back on it again. “This is about me now, not you. Now open your mouth and stick out your tongue.”

Brows furrowing while you try not to pout, you lean back and do as the man says. Your lashes flutter as you watch him tower over you, putting his legs on either side of the chair and holding himself up with one strong, muscle-ey arm. You let out a tiny whine in your throat as he holds his cock over your face and begins to stroke himself. You watch how swollen he is, how desperate he is to cum, the way his balls sit against his skin and look desperate to be emptied. He lets out small breathy moans as he rubs himself up and down, his head thrown back and his lip caught in between his teeth. What a beautiful sight.

He grunts when he looks down and sees drool leaking out of the corners of your mouth.

“Hungry for it, aren’t you?” He chastises. “I know. Poor little girl loves drinking up my cum. Don’t worry, baby, you’re gonna get some soon.”

Your head becomes fuzzy, your tongue reaching out to graze just a sliver of his cock. But he’s quick to use his length to slap your cheek, a warning growl sounding from his lips.

“Didn’t you hear what I said?” He asks you. “Keep fucking still, and don’t touch me.”

You pout, your mouth closing in the process, and Coryo fumes. He grabs your chin, forcing your mouth back open grabbing your tongue with his fingers. He presses it down onto your teeth, and begins to furiously jack his cock.

“You never fucking listen.”

You want to smile but you know you can’t. When Coriolanus’ hips thrust particularly hard into the open air, you know he’s about to be close. You push out your tongue even more, watching his tip begin to spew white creamy cum onto your flushed face. He grunts, the sight of your fucked out body covered in the sticky substance making his cock kick one last time before he goes soft. You look up at him with heavy breaths, your mouth open as you lick your lips and taste him on you. His thumb brushes against a puddle of his spend, and he brings it up to your mouth.

“Now clean it up, brat.”

[spacedace]

Still thinking about the Social Worker Jazz concept that @gilbirda posted about and it's slowly turning into a full Anger Management fic send help

-

Jason at length - much longer than it really should have taken really - set the resume down.

The new Social Worker’s resume. Because she was there, in his office, trying to convince him to hire her as a member of his criminal organization.

Crime Alley’s new social worker. A bright eyed Midwestern transplant from some tiny speck of a place that only qualified as a city because there was nothing bigger in a hundred miles in any direction to claim otherwise. The new social worker who had a Psy D. and three masters degrees and who had graduated Valedictorian. The one that had high paying private gigs lined up all over the country with the offering companies fighting over her.

The one who had, apparently, decided to take a shit job in Gotham’s shoddy social services department instead. The one that got kicked to Crime Alley - which was its own division despite technically being a small neighborhood in the grand scheme of things - within her first month. Supposedly for the sole purpose of scaring her off or getting her killed for all the questions she was asking and secret dealings she was sticking her nose into.

That social worker.

“I’m gonna need you to run this by me again.” Jason said, never so grateful for the voice modulator in his helmet as he was in that moment. It stripped out the bewilderment that had bled through into his words and made him sound stoic instead.

“I’d like to work for you.” The social worker - one Dr. Jasmine Nightingale - repeated primly. Back straight, clothes neat - if skewing more on the librarian side of professional - expression confident and hopeful. Completely and utterly oblivious of how fucking insane she sounded. “I was told that you’re the person in charge of Crime Alley.”

He resisted the urge to scrub at his face. It’d just look weird with his helmet on and not do anything to actually settle him in that moment anyway. “I understood that part.”

“Look, Doc,” She earned a doctorate and she was crazy enough to waltz into the office of one of Gotham’s most powerful Crime Lords, he’d be respectful about using her proper title at least, even if he suspected she was ten pounds of crazy in a five pound bag. “You’re going to have to tell me why. I was under the impression the only reason you ended up dumped on our end of the city ws because you wouldn’t play ball. But now you want to sign up for my crew?”

Nightingale frowned a little at that.

“Is that what people are saying?”

“What else are they gonna say?” Jason answered, leaning back in his seat, “Head of the department only dumps Crime Alley on folks he don’t like. And everyone knows he doesn’t like anyone that can’t or won’t play his game by his rules.”

“Alright, well. I’ll give you that.” Nightingale conceded, “Payne doesn’t like me. The feeling’s mutual. But for the record,” She added giving him a wry smile, as if sharing wry smiles with Red Hood was just something people did, “I asked to be assigned to the Park Row and Bowery neighborhoods.”

“You wanted to work here.”

“Yes.”

“Bullshit.”

Nightingale laughed. It was a bright sound. Not especially clear or pretty, but warm and welcoming in a way that carefully calculated giggles or overdone guffaws couldn’t be. Something with real and honest amusement in it, that encouraged those nearby to laugh along. Not the kind of involuntary, nervous chuckling people tended to slip into when they thought they had pissed someone that scared them off.

She just wasn’t intimidated by him at all, was she?

Behind his helmet, Jason found himself smiling. Just a bit.

“I’m serious.” She assured, blue-green eyes meeting the dark stare of his helmet without a moment of hesitation. He watched as she brushed a lock of her bright red hair behind her ear and out of the way. She’d woven it all into a practical, neat braid but a few sly pieces had snuck out to bounce around her. Gilding her quiet professionalism with a playful charm that worked well with her academia but make it cottagecore kindergarten teacher aesthetic.

“I’ll admit, Gotham wasn’t part of my plan when I first graduated. Time and choices take you funny places sometimes.” She plucked an invisible bit of lint off her soft blue cardigan, not nervous but absent as her gaze went distant for a moment. Thinking back on the events that had led her to his fine city. In a blink, those sharp eyes were back to focusing entirely on him. “But Gotham is where I am now, and I want to help.”

She looked at him, a serious, determined expression settling easily on her face. “The city as a whole has so much chaos and crime breaking out all the time.” No censure or horror in her voice, just a neutral fact to be observed. “But where the rest of the city has millions of dollars poured into it by various foundations or charities run by the Waynes, Park Row is largely ignored.”

Jason watched as steeliness sharpened her gaze, the blue-green shifting from the shine of a bird’s wing to the warning hue of something poisonous and deadly. “No one deserves that. No one.” Her chin tilted up, proud but not imperious. “So yes, I want to work here. There are people in Park Row and the Bowery who need help and I refuse to let any of them feel like they are going to be ignored.”

Jason considered her.

Really looked at her. Pealing back his initial off handed impression of her as some clueless transplant in over her head with no idea of what she was doing or what she was poking her nose into to find the real woman beneath. Her confident poise, her clear unshakable belief, her unflinching willingness to look danger in the eye and not blink. The tense curve of her frown, the lines of pain at the corners of her eyes, the simmering anger beneath it all. There was an edge to her, too. Something sharp and dangerously well hidden by the cardigan and folksy charm of her accent.

It was personal for the woman before him, Jason realized. Maybe not Crime Alley specifically, but something about the whole situation. The treatment the neighborhood and its residents received from the city at large, from those even beyond it.

Crime Alley wasn’t a place that received much in the way of charitable thought. The average joe with their house in Somerset and job at some corporate shithole hating every second of their life but thinking at least I don’t live in Crime Alley. Those asshole hoity-toites in city hall throwing money around equally between shit that’d get them re-elected and their off-shore slush funds in the Caymens doing their damn level best to pretend the black mark on the other end of the city just didn’t exist. Bruce, flooding the entire city with charitable programs and carefully constructed infrastructures shying away from the manifested grief and trauma that was the place he watched his parents get murdered.

For the most part no one from outside of the Alley gave a shit about the Alley other than as a place to avoid at all costs. And most of the time those natives that manages to claw their way out into better and brighter lives didn’t ever turn to glance back. Orpheus could have learned a thing or to from an ex-Alley Kid who managed to eek out a steady 9-to-5 and move to Burnley.

And something about that seemed to piss Dr. Jasmine Nightingale Psy. D right the fuck off.

He could see why Bill said he liked her enough to let her in.

“Alright.” He said, tilting his head, watching the woman seated across from him carefully, “Still doesn’t explain what you’re doing here. Why you’re trying to get on my payroll.”

“I’m not trying to get on your payroll.” She said, some of the glinting edge softening, but the steel remaining. Strong and unyielding. “I’m trying to get into your community outreach program.”

Jason thanked god and all the saints once again for the gift of his helmet. That baby had saved his ass more times than he could count both by keeping his head in one piece and keeping his stupefied expressions wrapped up and hidden from view. Dr. Nightingale was one hell of a woman to make him have to rely on that fact twice in one conversation.

“Wasn’t aware that was something I had.”

Nightingale, not fortunate enough to have a full face covering helmet of her own, had nothing to hide her stupefied expression behind. Jason had a feeling she might have removed it to make sure he saw even if she did though. She looked like she had caught him eating glue like it was a cheese stick.

“Yes you do.” She said, sounding deeply confused but unshakable confident in what she was saying. “I’ve seen it. The soup kitchens, the shelters, the collection boxes for donating old clothes, the after school day care.” Nightingale ticked off on her fingers, “I’ve lived here for less than two weeks and I’ve lost count of all the things I’ve seen setup to help people struggling in the area that I’ve been very reliably informed you and your organization are behind.”

Oh.

Those.

“Those aren’t part of some community outreach program.” He said, “We are simply locals offering services for our neighbors.”

He watched as her caught-him-eating-glue expression shifted into one that said she’d stumbled upon him licking electrical sockets for a mid-day pick-me-up instead. He had to give it to her, the woman was not afraid to let one of the most dangerous men in the city know she thought he was a fucking idiot.

“Let me see if I understand this right.” She said, and he appreciated that there wasn’t any kind of condescension in her voice, even though she very clearly thought he’d been dropped on his head as a baby. Possibly from the top of a three story building. “You have a large group of people working together to plan, organize and execute multiple services in your area - your community, if you will - that provide aid and support to those that otherwise would not receive it. Reaching out with your available time and resources to offer these services, that you provide. For free.”

Alright, Jason got it. He had stumbled ass backwards into creating a community outreach program. But he wasn’t just going to let her think she won this one. He was Red Hood, he had a reputation to uphold here.

“What makes you think any of that is free?” He tilted his head at just the right angle, the one that cast shadows across the planes of his helmet and made him look hell-touched and terrifying. “Just because we don’t charge money, doesn’t mean there isn’t a price to pay.”

Dr. Nightingale, dressed like a damn kindergarten teacher, laughed at him.

[fandomxo00]

Ok but imagine:

You hate Logan but you have a child together

You had a complicated relationship with your Logan. When he first came to the mansion the two of you hit off immediately. The typical good girl bad guy dynamic, but there always a layer of Logan you couldn't quite get to. He wanted to be with you, but he didn't want to do the work in order to keep you. He struggled with being emotionally vulnerable and you were the complete opposite. You told him you felt, you spoke through misunderstandings with him, and you were always there to listen. To try get any piece of your lover that you could. But after years of begging Logan to love you, when you told him you were in love with him. He said he was not, and that was the end of your relationship.

Or so you thought. Because your relationship couldn't end that easily, but you discovered you were pregnant. Logan tried to make things back to normal, but you rejected him at every turn. He hadn't ever wanted to hurt you, but as he realized your unrelenting anger, he knew he did. He knew that you cried when you were alone, that you'd start going to therapy again. That being pregnant with Logan's child was literally the last thing he thought you wanted. Maybe before when you were together when Logan wasn't confronted on being a coward.

He calls this karma, watching you go to Jean and Scott for support instead of him. Watching you grow progressively more pregnant with his child, and he couldn't hold you or kiss you. Logan thought about leaving, it was he had done so many times before. Even when the two of you were together, he'd leave for long periods of time. Breaking your heart over and over again but coming back asking for forgiveness. You'd given him so many chances and he had wasted them on being a brainless dick.

Little did you know how hard it was not to run back to him, not to give him to his promises. But you couldn't trust that he was going to come through for you. You didn't have any doubts about your child together, you knew that you meant something to him. You'd hope that his anxiety wouldn't pull him away from his own child. Because you knew he'd be a good dad, the way he was with Rogue, always checking in on her, making sure Bobby was being respectful. He loved her like a daughter, and you only hopped he could love your child the same.

Logan was going to have to be a part of your life no matter what now, or so you hoped. There was a hope in Logan that when your daughter was born that you would accept him again. He'd plan to tell you he loved you, that'd he give anything to you, that he'd wait for forever. It took him 9 months to grow the guts to do it.

It was a no brainer when he had their baby in his arms, you laying in the med-bay, he'd never seen you so tired but so happy. "Y/n." He murmured, looking over at you with his soft eyes. Your heart stuttered in your chest as you made eye contact with him. "I'm sorry for letting you down, I-I want to give you everything, I-I loved you for so long, I've just been too scared to say anything." He admitted, wearing his heart on his sleeve for once in his life.

You felt tears well up in your eyes at the pang in your chest, you shook your head as you looked away. "I-I can't risk it, Logan. Getting hurt by you-." You swallowed the lump in your throat. "I can't do it again, and I can't focus on you anymore and how you make me feel, I gotta focus on our girl, make sure she has the life she's supposed to."

Logan didn't say anything as he looked back down at his daughter, a shaky sigh falling from his mouth as he tried to keep the tears welling up in his eyes at bay. He didn't think he would cry if you said no, but Logan also thought you would forgive him. "I uh-I wanna name her Hazel."

"Yeah?" He grinned over at you, even just the slimmest of hope fluttering in his chest. You also spoke about his hazel eyes; it was one of your favorite things about him. Even if you didn't consciously pick it because of him, he had given him the glimmer of hope he needed to completely devote himself to you and Hazel.

Logan didn't confess anymore feelings or push you to be with him. But you grew rather annoyed by his presence always a reminder of something you wanted desperately but whenever you got it hurt you. It was like the apple that you wanted so desperately but everything was telling you to not grab the apple, don't eat it. Don't give into those green eyes and that handsome smile. Try not to focus when he was talking in that almost condescending way while his eyes flitted up and down your body. This man had no shame in showing you how much he loved you, by teasing, poking, antagonizing. But also being the first one to show up when you were overwhelmed with Hazel or you were just having a rough time. He didn't need to ask, he just did.

Being so agonizing good with your daughter that it was hard not to fold when he was such a good man. But instead of giving him a chance, you only pushed him away more, complaining about the littlest things and not giving Logan the benefit of the doubt. When Hazel wasn't around, it was you calling him some name and trying to start an argument with him.

But it was hard to act like a bitch when you saw your one and half year old on Logan's hip while he made her breakfast. It was his morning to take care of her, but you'd waken up early so you went for some coffee. "Morning beautiful." Logan grinned at you, you were suer he said those things to purposely piss you off. You ignored him as usual coming up to Hazel and kissing her cheek.

"Good morning love bug." You murmured to her, as she grinned over at you before putting a kiss on your own cheek. Logan gazed over at the two of you, imagines of you calling him that nickname, 'Love bug'. You'd explained to him how much that nickname actually meant to you, how it was favorite term of endearment. Something that you called him for a long time. He just wished it would be directed at him one day, one day he'd regain your trust again, right?

Logan wasn't a patient man.

But he was patient for his girls.

Notes: angsty moment here lmao got this idea last night just didn't have time to write it. hope you enjoy! lmk if you want a part 2

tags: @ohtobemare @jessjessmarvelandhp @chronicallybubbly @delicateholland @bubblegumholland

[zvdvdlvr]

i raise u hotch x f!r who was pronounced kia but she comes back?

— Home

— 🧠 synopsis. After being pronounced KIA, reader shows up after a year.

— 🧠 warnings. Foul language

part one

‘‘We regret to inform you-‘’ was the first and only thing Aaron heard before his vision blurred and his hands went slack.

If had happened, his biggest fear: you were never coming home. The only personal effects Aaron received was your wallet and dog tags with your wedding band on it. The flag that the marines handed him was heavy in his arms.

As they left, Aaron dropped his head in his hands and set the things he was handed down carefully on his desk. Before he did anything else, he shut his office blinds and sank into his chair. 

God, he thought, what do I tell Jack? 

— 🧠

It had been about a year since being kidnapped by the cartel your unit was attempting to bring down. One year of sensory deprivation. One year of curling into yourself at night dreaming of waking up with Jack laughing as you swung him around on your arm. One year of thinking about Aaron’s gravely voice whispering a sweet ‘good morning’ right before he kissed your temple. 

“You ready?” One of your longtime mentors/father figures Jethro asked. 

You nod and bit your lip. “Jethro what if he’s moved on from me? What if… he stopped loving me?” You asked, malnourished body shaking from your anxiety. 

The man only scoffed. “Not Aaron Hotchner, y/n. He wears your dog tags, you know. He hasn’t moved on from you, kid.” 

Finally you stepped out of Gibbs’ truck and nodded. You truly hoped Jethro was right. Your fresh uniform was big on your frame- you had lost a lot of weight and muscle after being fed only a meal every two days. 

Stepping into the elevator made you want to cry. The familiar beep of the machine soothed your soul more than you ever thought possible. 

Your stomach did flips as you stepped into the bullpen, hoping and praying that your reunion went well. 

— 🧠

In the year that you’d been gone, Hotch changed. 

He no longer smiled. Ever. The laugh he had with the team alnost every day after meeting you was gone. Aaron had no patience for anything either. 

Emily recalled one month anniversary of your deathdate. Hotch’s eyes were the reddest they had ever been and he genuinely looked like he had just been stabbed in the gut. That day, he had yelled twice at the two cops that had continued to bicker over evidence. And once at Rossi. 

The only reason Rossi didn’t say anything in response to Aaron’s anger was because he knew exactly where Aaron’s mind was: with you and your apparent grave on the other side of the world. 

But she watched your boots hit the ground, hair pulled back into the bun you had taught her all those years ago when you and Hotch first started dating. Emily watched you stand nervously in your spot, eyes scared. 

Emily never remembered seeing you scared. 

Your lip quivered as you made eye contact with her. 

No one else had seen you yet, so Emily sprinted over to you and let you sink into her embrace. 

“Aaron?” You asked, voice hoarse.

Emily nodded, vision blurred. “Go see him, y/n. He’s- none of us… we thought…” Her voice cracked and wavered. 

“I love you, Em,” you said, slipping out of her grasp again. But this time, Emily knew you were alive.

The walk up the stairs made your heart race. 

You brought your hand up to the door and knocked. Below, you could already hear Emily talking to the team. You heard your name, some gasps, and then silence.

“Come in,” Hotch called gruffly from the other side of the door.

You twisted the door handle and pushed. And then you stepped into the room. 

“Can I help you?” Your husband asked without looking up. His head was bent and he slouched, something he always nagged on you to make sure you never did. How far did he fall in one year?

“I wanted to see my husband,” you say, voice shaky. “I heard he was here.”

Aaron shot up from his chair, seat flying backwards. His eyes. Oh, his eyes.

“Y-y/n?” He asked. His hair was a mess; it looked like all he had done lately was worriedly run a hand through it. Your heart ached for the man in front of you.

You stepped forward. “Hi, angel,” you said, taking another step forward. 

“You died, y/n. I- we all… Jack and I-“ Aaron stuttered, tears falling from his cheeks as he watched the love of his life stand in uniform, an arms length away.

“I missed you. So much,” you say, crying now.

Aaron strode over to you and hugged you, letting his body fall slowly to the floor as you cried in his arms. “Oh my love,” Aaron cried, hiding his face into the crooke of your neck. 

You were home.

[not-so-mundane-after-all]

I keep rewatching that epilogue scene and, the way Hunter and Omega talk about her joining the Rebellion... You can tell this is not the first time they're having this conversation. And I just can't help but wonder what the previous one(s) must have looked like.

Because something tells me it wasn't peaceful.

I just can't imagine Hunter having any other reaction than an immediate, definitive "absolutely not" the first time he hears about Omega wanting to join the Rebellion. Just like I can't imagine Omega being okay with that reaction.

Were they arguing about it? Were they butting heads and not backing down from their respective points? Because they would. Absolutely, they would.

Did their brothers have conversations with both of them separately? Did Wrecker tell Omega to give Hunter a break because he's old and worried? Did Crosshair convince Hunter that he can't keep a grown woman grounded just because he's scared about her? Did Echo tell him that if this is Omega's calling, he has to let her do her thing?

She tried to sneak off. As if she didn't want to go through this again. As if she thought leaving without a goodbye would be easier on everyone and this way no one can stop her. After all, she made up her mind. She's going. But when she turns the light on and spots Hunter sitting there, she's not even surprised. She nods to herself like of course. Of course he's here.

This literally sounds like they've been over this before. But this time the conversation is surely more peaceful. They both have the other's perspective in their minds now.

This is my choice and I know it scares you but I need you to understand.

I know I won't change your mind but I don't want you to go, I want you to be safe.

This must have been said before as well. Maybe in anger. Maybe in pleading. Or desperation. I wouldn't be surprised if Omega got very frustrated with Hunter for treating her like she's still a kid. Nor would I be shocked if Hunter had trouble articulating his point of view in all his worry and panic. But here, it's a confession. It's very vulnerable. It's the truth Hunter doesn't want to hear and gives a reason why.

Omega is a grown woman now. Skilled, capable, brave. Hunter doesn't doubt that. But to him, she's always going to be his little girl no matter how old she is and I am still speechless at the fact that we actually see him not only struggling with it but also admitting to it.

Back on Pabu, after they escaped Tantiss, Hunter told her: "We've all fought enough battles for one lifetime." And now, years later, Omega echoes this back to him. "You've all fought enough." Almost like she's reading Hunter's mind and knows that if he can't stop her, he's going to want to join her.

The way he wants to reach after her here when she gets up. Like he wants to say wait, no, don't go yet!

But this is her fight, just like she says. She's never been able to sit still, we know that, we've seen that. Just like Echo back in season 2, she can't stand the thought of staying down and doing nothing when there are people out there fighting for freedom. People she can help. She's a skilled pilot now (I can bet she'll become most famous in the Rebellion for her flawless Tech-Turn), she has absorbed everything her brothers have taught her over the years like a sponge and now she wants to use that. After years of living away from the fight, she's finally ready to get back out there and make a difference in the galaxy. Fight for peace because that is her calling.

She's ready, but Hunter is not.

You can tell it's literally tearing him apart to watch her go. That's his baby, the whole reason he's living the life he has now. He gave his blood, sweat and tears so she could grow up safe and happy and away from the Empire's clutches. And now she's going back right into them, willingly.

But she's all grown up. And he has no choice but to let her go do her thing. So he holds her close and I don't doubt sends out a prayer that she comes back to him safe and in one piece. He closes his eyes and commits the feeling to memory because who knows when will be the next time he gets to do this?

And it might be destroying him inside but he's so damn proud. And he knows she's got this. She doesn't need her old man to watch her back anymore.

And yet still this old man, with gray in his hair and beard, this old man whose posture is hunched and who is moving slowly and having difficulty standing up because of his accelerated age, is telling his very grown up and very capable daughter that if she needs him, he's going to pick up his blaster, don the armor and join her in the fight.

Because that's what fathers do.

[lucysarah-c]

"Alright, spill the beans," Erwin said as he sat down on the couch, opening a beer can and crossing his legs. He could hardly contain his smile. Mike and Hange stared intensely at the shorter man. Levi had told them he had something to "share," and he hardly ever shared anything. Therefore, all attention and the floor were his.

The group of friends grew more and more curious as Levi seemed unsure, almost shy. His finger tapped his beer can uneasily as he pressed his lips together. "Fine, but don't fucking laugh."

"I can't promise you that," Hange quickly confirmed, making the other two chuckle but also agree. Levi just sighed resigned.

"Y/N… Y/N found a thong that wasn't hers among her clothes."

Erwin, who was sipping his drink, spat it out in shock at how quickly the situation escalated.

"WHAT?!" Hange tilted forward as they heard what happened while the rest looked in shock, mouths open. "You CHEATED on your 9-year-long girlfriend?!"

"No!" Levi almost shouted back. "That's what I'm trying to explain!"

It was Monday night. We had dinner after coming home, the usual routine. I was doing the dishes after she got out of the shower, and I heard her steps going down the stairs very heavily. That was the first thing that caught my attention, and before I knew it was her, still freshly showered, looking at me and pulling out a red thong, stretching it between her hands. "Whose are these?" My mind went automatically blank. I saw her resting her hand on her hip and frowning back at me. "I-uh." "Because they are not mine," she insisted, her anger palpable. I swear I was trying to speak, but I could only mumble broken shit as she stared back at me as if she was searching for my soul. "Levi Ackerman, WHOSE ARE THESE?" "I- I don't know, I don't fucking know. I swear," I quickly replied as I blinked, trying to find a solution. My mind started to question everything. 'I'm Levi Ackerman… I'm conscious of my actions… I haven't cheated on my girlfriend,' yet I was sweating as if I had. I had no idea whose those were. It was obvious that they weren't hers, apparently, but I've not slept with another woman in years, so I didn't even know where they could have come from. I doubted my entire existence, I began to wonder if I had been drugged and perhaps did something that I didn't recall. The tears, when she began sobbing softly. I felt like the worst human being. "How could you? After all these years…" "No, no, I fucking swear," I said, growing anxious. I don't even own social media accounts; I don't have a password on my phone. I hate cheaters; I would never do something like that to her, to anyone. For a split second, I thought it would have been easier to lie and explain that it was mine somehow. In that moment, my phone started to ring with one of the numbers I have on priorities as she began to walk up stairs. I rushed to pick it up. "Call you later." "Bro, everything okay?" Isabel's voice came from the speakers as she had called me on FaceTime, as she usually does. Apparently, I forgot to hang up as I was walking behind Y/N. "Y/N, I swear on my mother that I don't know whose are those." I was trying to explain myself when Isabel's voice came from the phone again. "There they are! I was wondering where I left them!"

"Apparently, it was from one time they all came over to my house for the pool. I must have put it in the laundry and thought they were Y/N's," Levi finished the tale as the rest looked at him surprised and entertained.

"Didn't you think they could be Isabel's?" Erwin questioned back between chuckles.

"No! How was I supposed to know a red thong was Isabel's!" Levi commented as his cheeks got slightly red.

"Levi… Isabel is 23 already…" Mike said slowly as he tried to make his friend process the idea.

"Tch," Levi took a good sip from his beer as he processed the idea. "You've no idea how fucking scared I was, and when Isabel said they were hers… fucking shit, I never breathed more peacefully in my entire life."

"That happens to you because you do laundry. Since I never do laundry, I don't have those issues," Hange said entertained, but Levi looked back at the brunette dead in the eyes.

Tag list!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @jimoonbeau @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @i-literally-cant-with-this @angelofthorr @aomio4 @levisbrat25 @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @trashblackrainbow @l3visthighs @hum4n-wr3ckag3 Wanna join my tag list? here!

[stsgooo]

Haunted.

✩࿐ summary: geto had suffered enough, why should he let you go too?

warning(s): suicidal thoughts/idealizations, death, poor coping mechanisms, gn!reader, depression, isolation, description of violence, angst no comfort, curse!reader, cult leader geto things, character study vibes, not proofread (sorry). wc; 15.7k

pairing(s): geto suguru/reader, geto suguru/gojo satoru/reader (briefly), geto suguru/gojo satoru

a/n: hii, been a while since i’ve written an x reader fic so hope this abides by everyone’s standards :) as i finished this, i realized that this probably should've been multiple parts because of how long it is, but it was too far gone at that point. anyway, i hope you enjoy and if you don't i would rather not hear about it!

available to read on ao3. | divider 1

I. 2005

SUGURU WAS SURE YOU HAD A DEATH WISH.

Out of everyone, it seemed as if you had some crazy switch in you that just flipped during a battle. It was as if you got tunnel vision and your every move was erratic, death the only option. It did not matter to you whether you lived or died. Saving others was your main and only goal. That scared him to death.

You were powerful. Powerful enough where you didn’t need to go all out on every curse that even hinted at having some type of power over you or others. Yet you always found yourself in Shoko’s room, sporting one cut too many, and a bright grin as if you weren’t pushing the limit. You would wave away any and all concern with that smile.

I’m just fine, you would roll your eyes at their worry. Really, you guys, stop fussing so much.

Suguru had argued with you about it before. Both of you had been sent on a mission to some elementary school, few kids had gone missing. You found the curse, and the kids, and a fight ensued. It was nothing crazy. Not until you practically served yourself on a platter for the curse and told Suguru to run away with the kids. Of course, he didn’t leave. What kind of friend would he be if he just let you die? What kind of sorcerer would he be if he just ran away while you were torn limb by limb? He’d be a failure of a sorcerer and a failure of a friend.

It bothered him. It enraged him how easily you threw your life away for others. A hint of danger and you were willing to get yourself killed over it. The complete disregard for your life in the first year that you all knew each other irked his very soul. Your behavior was worrisome. It confused him.

The buildup to his fight with you was a lot to unpack in itself.

The car ride from the hospital the kids were at was silent. Filled with a tension that unsettled his heart and he was sure unsettled your mind. You made no attempt at small talk or passing a good job, it was just silent. He silently thanked you for it. Because he was sure if you spoke then, he would’ve blown up. He would’ve said horrible things. So he silently thanked you for your silence, your silent allowance to let him think. You even fell asleep and Suguru couldn’t help but ask himself how you could sleep so soundly after such a close brush with death.

Three days later, he could tell Satoru and Shoko noticed the tension.

He knew they noticed it the moment you two returned. Your clothes soiled, face covered in mud and blood, hands all too shaky. Maybe it was the way you walked away from his side to great them. Or it was probably the way he glared at the wavering smile on your lips as you told them everything went fine. It was most definitely that.

Shoko was weary of it. At lunch, she’d sit between him and you. Her words were light as she teased and prodded, but never dared to ask the serious questions. She kept the air free of the awkwardness or the anger brewing. Shoko was kind like that. She was optimistic.

Satoru, however, wasn’t.

Although he seemed to abide by the silent rule not to ask you questions, he was practically grilling Suguru any given moment. He asked what happened. Why was Suguru so angry? Why were you acting so standoff-ish? Had something finally happened between you? Did Suguru get rejected and was he throwing himself a pity party? There were so many things that he threw out into the open like it was silly. As if Satoru derived some entertainment from the tension.

Do you ever notice they’re ready to get themselves killed for others? Suguru had thrown out to Satoru a week after the mission.

Satoru’s eyes lost the amusement and his smile dimmed. He pushed his glasses further up his nose. Of course I have. His voice was ridiculously serious and slow, extremely distant. As if recalling something he pushed to the back of his mind often. His attention had cut back to Suguru and shook his head. Man, it’s best to leave this alone. Trust me. Sensei will say something soon enough.

Suguru couldn’t help but worry that their first year teacher’s talk wouldn’t come soon enough.

Things just didn’t make sense to him. He just didn’t understand why you would be so willing to throw yourself into death like it was a blanket on a cold night. Sure, they’re meant to save people, but it didn’t mean death. Not everything had to be final. He feared that you just didn’t know it.

All of it came to a head when all four of you were placed on a mission three weeks after.

At this point, it was apparent that you both were avoiding each other. Different topics that neither of you wanted to address made headway into your dynamic. Distanced you both from one another like it was a bubble. A shield protecting you both from uncomfortable and frankly angry conversations.

But you did it again.

Sure, this time the curse was too much. Things weren’t looking too great for them. But the moment Suguru noticed you were missing from his and Satoru’s side, he felt panicked. He knew what was coming and knew what you’d say.

You caught the curse off guard as you jumped from the top banister, your large hammer at the ready. You shouted something along the lines that they should get out of there. But Suguru nor Satoru dared to run away. He watched, in horror, as you vanished into the curse’s mouth. As he was ready to summon his small arsenal of cursed spirits, the thing was cut from the stomach. Then you got its head.

There was silence as you stood amongst the carnage. Covered in the things purple goopy blood. Then you turned to them with that smile and Suguru lost it.

“What’s wrong with you?” He yelled, his voice echoing off the walls and converging on you. You looked shocked, eyebrows raised and faltering away from the pride to the confusion. He took in a shaky breath as he felt the built up anger from the past three weeks finally come up. “Do you have to throw yourself into danger like that?”

You frowned at him, then pathetically gestured at the curse. “It’s dead, isn’t it?”

Suguru pressed his hands against his face, letting out a deeply annoyed groan. “That’s not the point! The point is you threw yourself into its mouth! Like it was nothing!” He pushed himself forward to at least close the distance a little. Despite hearing Satoru’s soft protest, he needed to look you in the eye.

Your irritation was apparent as you furrowed your brow. “It doesn’t matter! Seriously, what’s your issue lately? You’ve been a complete asshole since that mission we went on. I thought you were just feeling bad for those kids, but you’ve acted completely different towards me!” Suguru could only clench his jaw at your obliviousness. There’s no way, right? There was absolutely no way you didn’t see what you were doing to them. To him. But when you said your next words, that thought was out the window. “Okay, so I threw myself into the middle of things, but so what?”

So what? So what. So fucking what?

Suguru felt something deep within him snap. As if there was a car underwater and the glass that was keeping the passengers safe suddenly cracked. His emotions, his clear mind, were the victims of the drowning. Buried deep under your ignorance.

“So what?” He snapped, his hands clenched into tight fists at his sides as he regarded you with unsettled rage. “So what? Are you serious? Like, are you dumb or are you just playing with me because I seriously can’t tell right now!”

You flinched at his tone and he could hear the shift of rubble behind him. “Suguru, hey—“ Satoru tried to de-escalate the situation but he was ignored.

“Excuse me?” You uttered, glaring up at him.

“Whenever we go on missions, you’re the first one throwing yourself at the thing like it isn’t serious. As if there’s not a high possibility that you’ll die! Every single time.” Suguru had a finger against your chest now. He wasn’t even sure when he had reached out, but he could feel the curse’s blood on his fingertip. It was cold and thick. Uncomfortable. But you were covered in it like it was nothing. Everything was nothing to you. “So, I’m asking you: are you dumb or just acting like you are?”

Your eyes were narrowed as you regarded him. “I know it’s dangerous, but sometimes that’s the only option.” Was all you had to say in response.

“You shouldn’t be the first one to die every time!” Suguru was desperate for his point to get across. For you to understand that it wasn’t the matter that it was dangerous— it was the fact that you were so willing and ready to have everyone live without you.

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” You frowned.

Just understand I care. That if you were to die right in front of my eyes, I’d lose it. I’ve only known you for ten months, but I can’t imagine a world where you’re dead. You’re one of my best friends— the first friend I ever made, please don’t make me live longer than you. Were all the selfish things that Suguru wanted to say. That he should’ve said.

Instead, he asked, “Do you just want to die?”

There was a very long silence that kept them all from moving.

The question was posed and he could see it in your eyes. Could hear it in the words you didn’t speak. You looked away from him, shame settled on your face. Suddenly, you looked small compared to your usual large and boisterous self. Have you always been this small? Or was this something he was just realizing now?

It settled in his mind, suddenly, that he was right. His assumptions, rash and brazen, were right.

It made him queasy, lightheaded, as he stared at you.

“Y/N…” He uttered with a pale face. He desperately wanted to reach out, to grasp your shoulder— make some type of contact. But his limbs wouldn’t move. He wasn’t even sure if he was breathing or blinking. His mind just repeated the one fact he knew over and over.

You wanted to die. You didn’t care if you died out there, alone, because it was all the same to you. You were waiting for death as it was waiting for you. Like an old friend. You wanted to die.

Suguru felt the overwhelming urge to cry as it all settled. “You want to die?” He couldn’t help the whisper as he stared at you in horror.

Your cheeks were a deep crimson red, tears pooling in your eyes as you took a step back from him. “It-It’s not like that.”

Suguru slowly shook his head. “Y-Yo—“ You shouldn’t feel like that. Is what he wanted to say. But what good would that do? You knew that. You probably prayed you didn’t every day.

“I just— you guys are so important to the school and-and to me! If you guys died, they’d be scrambling and a lot of people would probably suffer. But if I died, then who would even care—?”

“I would!” Suguru couldn’t help the tears that collected in his eyes. Here he was, almost 16, crying in front of you. But he needed you to know he cared. That life wouldn’t be the same without you gracing it. He reached forward, grabbing your hands in a vice like grip. “I would care! If you died I would be miserable and I would miss you like crazy. Don’t say no one would care because, if it doesn’t matter that I care, then everyone would. You’re important to everyone. You matter.”

Your eyes were on him now, wide and unsteady as you regarded him with confusion and disbelief. “Suguru—“

“We would all care. Satoru would be so annoying without your stupid quips. Shoko would be miserable if there wasn’t anyone to get her cigarettes when she forgets. And I…I would lose it if you were dead. I would. I would lose my mind, I’d do something crazy like… like leave everything behind.” It felt wrong to say. To put such weight on you, but he needed to know the role you played. How important you are. He clenched his jaw in determination, eye contact unwavering as he squeezed your hands. “I’ll prove it to you. I swear on it. I’ll spend the rest of our lives proving it to you.”

“Better than anything I could say.” He heard Satoru utter behind them, then the tell tale yelp that came after Shoko slapped him upside the head.

You didn’t let that distract you as you fell forward into his arms. Clutching at his uniform as you let out a small cry. He held you up and listened as you dumped years worth of pain into his chest. Suguru couldn’t ever recall seeing you like this before. He never really wanted to see it again. You didn’t say anything in response to his rather embarrassing ramble to you. No, not to that.

Instead, all you said in return was, “thank you.”

II. 2006

Suguru was in love with you and Satoru.

He realized it the afternoon in Okinawa, all of you walking through the aquarium as Riko pointed out various fish that she knew too much information about. Of course, he wasn’t listening. He was much too focused on you and Satoru. The both of you had snuck away to a gift shop— proclaiming that you needed mementoes and souvenirs for your friends back home. You adorned an octopus hat while Satoru had various fish stickers pressed to his cheeks. You both more resembled children on a field trip than highly esteemed sorcerers.

Suguru loved it. He loved you both.

It was a sudden and rather scary realization.

It came over him as you placed another sticker on Satoru's face. The both of you releasing absurd laughs that had no business sounding so lovely. He could feel the small smile blossom on his own lips as Satoru argued that he'd have the "gooey stuff" all of his face later, which made you promise to help him clean it off with a rag. Then you placed a delicate kiss against his cheek. It was so nonchalant, something they should all be used to, but it was always so jarring. Satoru stared at you with wide eyes behind his glasses, then he grinned. Wide and devious.

Suguru's heart soared.

He wanted nothing more than to reach out, to grab both of you and kiss you like there was no tomorrow. To promise his heart and his life to you both. It would be easy. It would be mere second nature to him. Suguru may just be realizing how deeply he loved you and Satoru, but he was almost sure that he'd felt this way since month five of your first year.

Surely, it shouldn't be a surprise. You three had been getting bold lately. Shoko was even commenting on it. The late nights in your room, the both of them curled up at your side. The domesticity of one of you returning to your dorm and being greeted by the other two. You all had a routine. A promise to come back through the door and have another fight of arguing over what's for dinner. Or something obscure that he wouldn't put up with with anyone else.

He just wanted to tell you and Satoru that he finally feels normal in the world. With you both by his side. That when he has your skin pressed against his, he feels like he could take on the world. That Satoru makes him feel childish and free like he couldn't be when he was a kid. That his kisses were sweet and soft. He just wanted to tell you that he loved you.

But Suguru saw your eyes stray away from Satoru's and the smile faded away. "We have to give her a choice." You said suddenly.

Both Satoru and Suguru moved their attention to Riko. The girl was standing in front of a expansive tank, watching in amazement as the fish zoomed by. The girl unaware of their watchful eyes as she turned to Kuroi and asked her to enjoy the fish too.

Suguru and Satoru had acknowledged that you were probably the last person who should be on this mission almost immediately. It wasn't that you weren't well fit for it, or that you would be too detached, or not want to get involved— it was that you had warmed up to Riko immediately. The girl had become your shadow. She asked about your technique and how "two idiots" like them were able to be in your presence. She amused you and you amused her. Then she asked you what you thought about her merger and you told her you thought it was something you shouldn't get involved in.

But Suguru and Satoru saw it in your eyes. They knew what you thought the moment Yaga had said the word "erase".

You wanted to save her.

"I knew you'd say that." Satoru snorted, leaning back against the tank they stood before. His eyes rolled upwards to look at the dolphin swim pass across from them. "You're always meddling."

You glared at him. "I don't meddle!"

"You do." Satoru said fondly. "What did I say, Suguru? They'd meet the girl and meddle, right?"

You snapped your eyes to Suguru who shyly stuck his hands in his pockets, shrugging. "You did say that." I did not. Suguru used kinder words— like you cared about Riko and you'd probably not want to see her throw away her barely lived life for Tengen-sama.

You pouted, picking at the railing next to Satoru. "Am I that predictable?"

"Only because we know you so well." Satoru teased with a small smile. Then his eyes cut back to Riko who was gradually making her way further down the area. As much as Satoru would deny it, Suguru could tell that he'd come to grow fond of the girl as well. "What do you propose we do, exactly?"

Now Suguru was looking back to you. He could see the shock in your eyes as they snapped up to Satoru— as if you couldn't believe he was playing into whatever ideas you were tossing around. There was a spark of hope in your eyes and Suguru had to look away to prevent the smile that wanted to spread across his face. Instead, he'd let his heart do that weird skip it usually did whenever you and Satoru were particularly adorable.

"All I want is for her to have a choice," Your voice was compassionate as you started. The look in your eyes distant as you turned your attention towards the small tank in front of you three. The portioned tank that had different beta fishes separated. Together they're deadly. Apart, they find peace. Riko had explained. "The way she's talked about everything... the merger with Tengen-sama— that's what she was born for. She's proud of it. But given the choice, she wanted to spend her last day with her friends. She wanted to go to school and hang out with them because she knew she'd never see them again. Instead of really wanting to do this, she's just doing it because she feels like she has to. Where's the freedom in that?"

Suguru smiled softly at you. "So we give her a choice." He agreed with a small nod, finding satisfaction with the brightness in your eyes.

"We'll have to fight Tengen, you know that?" Satoru kept his eyes steady on Riko as he questioned the two of you. Both of you blink, obviously not having considered that detail. "They'll put up a fight— probably other sorcerers too. Freeing Riko might mean we leave Jujutsu High."

Suguru let his mind wander. Would he really mind if the three of you left? Not really. If the three of you have to fight Tengen-sama, then he'd gladly fight them by your side. If you both wanted, he'd destroy the world. Then gladly live his final moments with you both at his side. That was a fact that he knew to be true in his soul.

"I'll gladly do so." You answered without hesitation. Of course you would, you self sacrificial fool. A bitter part of Suguru said. There was no question that you'd put your life on the line for Riko. "If her choice is to live life, then I'll fight Tengen."

"And you'll win?" Satoru asked.

You raised an eyebrow. "We're the strongest, aren't we? Us three?"

Something about your words made Suguru 100% sure that he wouldn't allow you both to walk alone in the world. Together, there wasn't anything you three couldn't take on.

Satoru finally turned from Riko to stare at you with a self assured smirk.

Oh, Suguru thought with a stutter in his heart. He'd already made up his mind before you did.

"Well, well! I thought you were above all that we're the strongest crap!" Satoru teased, throwing his arm around your shoulders as you rolled your eyes. "Don't be so entitled, Satoru. You're making Haibara and Nanami feel less than, Satoru. You sound ignorant, Satoru. Look who's high and mighty now!"

"Oh, stop!" You pushed his arm away, but your smile was fond. You turned back to the beta fish. "Sure, it's a little entitled, but right now, I'm being nice."

"Thank you, thank you, my beloved royalty." Satoru dramatically bowed before you. You uttered something about him being dramatic, which went ignored. The white haired sorcerer reached over and slapped Suguru's arm, peeking at him fondly from behind his glasses. "Suguru, bow for your deity!"

Suguru was about to decline, until you spoke up. "You're ridiculous, you know that? Don't do that." Suddenly, he felt inclined to follow suit.

Both of them were now bowed behind you, uttering their dramatic praises as you blushed, attempting to ignore them as people walked pass and stared. Suguru peeked up at you as you watched the beta fish swim around. In that moment, he prayed that nothing changed.

Things weren't right.

Things weren't right but you were so calm.

Silently, Suguru could only shoot a thankful glance in your direction as the elevator creaked under the strain of four people. He could tell you were worried but your expression was determined to stay pieced together. Satoru was above ground, fighting against that man— Suguru couldn't think about it. It was too much in the mess of things.

The elevator came to a screeching halt and there was no hesitation on your part to push the doors open. You seemed quicker, your movements a little stilted as you exited the elevator and, instead of looking at the three behind you, you kept your gaze on the various entrances. He could tell you were irritated. He could tell you were worried. Or nervous.

No, you were scared.

His attention turned towards Riko and Kuroi who were exchanging a heartfelt, tearful goodbye. They clutched onto each other— Kuroi told her to be brave and Riko promised she would. Then they separated and Suguru promised that he'd come back once everything was done to escort Kuroi to safety.

The trek to the Star Corridor was long and quite.

There wasn't much Suguru could say to comfort you because there wasn't much he could reassure himself with. His worries for Satoru were overbearing in his mind and he couldn't try and fool himself into trying to bear the weight of your anxiety as well. Both of you knew this, so you didn't dare try to comfort one another.

There's nothing wrong. Everything's going to be okay. We're the strongest. Satoru will join us once this is over. Were the things Suguru soothed himself with.

"Is this...?" Riko uttered as they finally broke through to the outskirts of where Tengen homes themself.

"Yes," Suguru confirmed as he came to a stop beside the younger girl. "We're just outside of where Master Tengen resides. This is the country's base for primary barriers. The main hall of the tombs of the Star Corridor."

"Basically, it's their home." You said flatly, coming to Riko's other side, your eyes moving over the vast area. It was quiet, dark, and looked isolated. Nothing that brought any welcomeness for the eternity to come.

Suguru tried not to let his gaze linger on the woeful look painting your face now. He cleared his throat and pointed. "Go down the stairs and pass the gate. Then head toward the base of that huge tree. It's protected by a different barrier than the one around Jujutsu High. Only those invited may enter. You'll be protected by Master Tengen until the merger."

Riko's expression turned sorrowful as she followed the path Suguru paved with her eyes. This was the end. Her fun and the little life she lived was at its finish. She clenched her hands at her sides and made a move to continue forward, without them.

"Or we can turn back and go home to Kuroi."

Riko's eyes snapped to you. Your eyes were compassionate and a small smile graced your features that was more reassuring than any words that could be spoken. She looked a little pale, but the glow of hope suddenly appeared.

"What?" The girl uttered.

You turned to her fully, keep your expression soft. "When our taecher assigned us this mission, he used the word 'erase'. It's like, deep down, he knew something was wrong with this and, for a muscle guy, he doesn't usually beat around the bush." You looked like you wanted to chuckle at your own jab at Yaga, but didn't have the energy. Instead, you sighed. "I talked to Suguru and Satoru and we all came to the decision that if the kid who is the Star Plasma Vessel should refuse the merger then we call it off."

Riko's eyes widened even further and tears were on the cusp of falling as she stared at the both of you.

"We're the strongest," Suguru offered gently, offering a closed eyed smile to the girl. "No matter what you choose, we promise to protect your future."

Riko's lips quivered as her eyes bounced between you two and the vast nothingness of Tengen's home. She took in a shaky breath. "Ever since I was born, I've been told I'm special and different. Being special was normal for me. I've survived till now by staying away from danger... My parents died in a car crash. I don't remember it. I'm not say or lonely anymore." She started to fiddle with her hands as her words grew more unsteady. You moved to press against her side, hands rested against her shoulders. "That's why... with the merger, I thought I'd be okay... leaving everyone. No matter how painful it became, I believed that, some day, the sadness and loneliness would disappear."

"You just need the right person." You uttered to her, her eyes snapping up at you as tears silently streamed down her face. "You need that one person to prove that there's beautiful things out there— that there's kindness and love. I know. I understand, Riko."

The girl bursts into tears, a trail of snot ran from her nose as she shook with her cries. "I want to stay with everyone a bit longer!" Her voice seemed to echo around the two of you. "I want to go to more places and see more things with everyone! More!"

Both you and Suguru smiled softly. His hand reached out while you squeezed her shoulders. "Riko, let's go home." He beckoned her forward.

"Yeah!"

Suguru registered the shot last second, but it was too late for him to truly do anything.

He's never quite seen anything like it.

You were smiling, you looked free from your worries for one second.

Then you were falling. Your face slack and eyes blank. You fell against the ground with a deafening thud. Blood pooled around your head, chunks of your brain scattered across the ground. Your eyes.

They're so blank.

Suguru barely registered Riko's scream. His eyes couldn't leave you even as the girl screamed and screamed, hands clutching at her head as she stared at your body beside her.

You were just speaking a moment ago. You were smiling. How could this happen?

Your eyes are so blank.

"Y-Y/N...." Suguru uttered, eyes wide and face pale.

He felt sick. He didn't feel right. This wasn't right. Why were you on the ground? Why were you bleeding? Why can't he move? Why can't he breathe? Are you going to get up? Please get up.

Riko continued to scream. She just wouldn't stop. Her once hopeful eyes were now reduced to horror and terror as she smeared the blood covering the side of her face. None of it hers.

It's yours.

Your eyes are blank.

What are you doing? Get up. Get up. Smile. Just breathe. Get up. Please, I'll do anything. I'll listen to you ramble about those books you love so much. I'll buy you those disgusting snacks you crave. I'll do anything for you.

Please don't die.

Your eyes are blank.

"Oh," groaned a voice that rattled Suguru's soul. "I missed."

Suguru slowly turned his head to stare at the man. The one that had stabbed Satoru through the chest and had talked to him like an old friend. The one that was now standing, clutching a gun in his hand, pouting as if he was amused by his miscalculation.

As if your death was something he hadn't accounted for.

"How..." Suguru's voice doesn't feel like his own. It feels like he's out of body. As if something else is controlling him. He felt something warm on his cheek, but he couldn't reach for it. His limbs felt heavy, his hands cold. What was happening? Why did everything feel so muddled? "How'd you get here?"

Still, Riko screamed.

Still, your eyes were blank.

The man frowned. "How...?" Suddenly, he chuckled and pressed the side of the gun to his temple. "I see. I killed Gojo Satoru."

Suguru was swarmed with an unfamiliar feeling of rage. You and Satoru had once praised him for his ability to remain calm and level headed when things seemed to crumbled around all of you. He was the voice of reason— your moral compass. The map that lightened your way.

Suddenly, he felt like he was reduced to nothing but rage and this empty feeling in his chest.

Your eyes are blank.

Gojo Satoru is dead.

"I see..." Suguru growled, his eyes unmoved from the man across from him. "Then die!"

III. 2007

Suguru didn't feel right.

Although, he hadn't felt right for 11 months. 47 weeks, and five days. 8,016 hours. 480,960 minutes. 28,857,600 seconds.

He hadn't been right since the moment you dropped dead.

Your eyes were blank.

He wasn't enough to fight against Fushiguro Toji. The man had ruthlessly downed him then killed Riko. It was like it was nothing. He came, he killed, then he left.

Suguru had laid amongst the rubble of Toji's doing and stared into your blank eyes. He still wasn't sure how long it was. He couldn't move and he could barely breathe as the blood from his chest trickled to the stone and concrete under him. Your eyes stared lifelessly into his own. Endlessly. A never-ending staring contest that he pleaded to end.

The entire time he laid on the floor of Tengen's barrier. His mind only repeated one thing.

Please get up. Please be alive. Please get up. Please get up.

Your brains had scattered across the floor and your eyes were unmoving but he spent so much time just pleading with you to snap out of it. He thought he was enough. He apologized for not being enough.

Please get up. I promised to prove it to you.

There was a point he passed out. He could remember thinking, thankfully, that he was going to die. And he swore he heard your gurgled call for him.

Then, he woke up.

Shoko had looked distraught. He could still remember the way she eyed him wearily through red rimmed eyes. Cautious as she told him that you were dead. As she told him Satoru was gone.

Gone. But not dead.

Suguru had, very briefly, rejoiced in Satoru's survival.

Shoko said she cleaned your blood off his cheek.

Suguru hated her for a while after that.

He didn't stay at the infirmary for long. Despite Shoko telling him that Yaga wanted to see him and that he shouldn't move around yet, he dragged himself away. He dragged himself to the cult. He dragged himself along the side walk with his mind flashing with images of your blank eyes.

Was that all death was? Nothingness? Did it comfort you? Did it welcome you? Was it everything you imagined?

His mind wouldn't rest.

He could remember as he entered the building. As he heard the resounding and endless applause. He mindlessly entered and was meant with a never-ending crowd, parting as they just clapped, and clapped, and clapped. It rumbled through his ears, bouncing around his brain.

Your eyes were blank.

When the crowd parted, he remembered the clench of his heart as Satoru, bloodied and blank, appeared. He carried Riko's body in his arms. Lifelessly moving forward. His eyes stared right through Suguru.

"You're late," Satoru had teased blankly. His voice distant and flat. It missed its usual punch. "No.... I guess your're early."

Suguru remembered the confusion that washed over him as he stared at the one he loved. "Satoru... is that you...?"

What happened to you?

"It looks like you saw Shoko." Satoru had sounded like he wasn't entirely aware of his surroundings. Or he didn't care. "Is Y/N there right now?"

Suguru didn't have the heart then. He could remember silently apologizing to you, but he hadn't thought Satoru could handle the news of your death amongst this room.

"Shoko fixed me up fine." His eyes had moved to Riko's limp hand and he felt sick. Her screams were still in his mind. He almost threw up. "I'm sorry."

"I'm the one who messed up. Don't worry about it." Satoru had easily deflected.

Suguru couldn't handle the clapping. They just didn't stop. They clapped, and clapped, and clapped.

Your eyes were blank.

"Suguru," Satoru's voice had stopped him in his tracks. His voice was so detached and so odd. Suguru couldn't handle much change then. He couldn't handle hearing Satoru so different. Not then. "Do you want to kill them all?"

Suguru could remember the shock that shook his body. Could remember the bitterness that immediately followed. The realization that he would love nothing more than to unleash the worst on these people and sum their deaths up as their lives— useless.

"Suguru," He had sworn he heard your voice, distorted and all too sweet. His back stiffened and his eyes widened. "Do you hate them, Suguru?"

He did. He hated them. He wanted them all to burn. He wanted them to suffer. Suguru would've loved nothing more than to have heard all of them plead for their lives. To have the same terror that Riko had when she realized her life was coming to an end. To have that same blank look in their eyes as you had.

Your eyes were blank.

"It's pointless." Suguru had shot down emotionless. He still wasn't sure if he was answering that tiny voice in his head or Satoru, maybe it was both. Who really cared?

"Pointless, huh?" Satoru walked past Suguru and started to make his way outside. "Does there need to be a reason?"

"Of course, it's important." Suguru had easily answered. "Especially as Jujutsu Sorcerers."

11 months. 47 weeks, and five days. 8,016 hours. 480,960 minutes. 28,857,600 seconds later, he believed that was all bullshit.

It surprised him how much and how little could change in a year.

The way everyone seemingly returned to normal and he was left in the past.

Suguru felt like his life was now segregated into two sections: Before the Star Plasma Vessel assignment and after the Star Plasma Vessel assignment. Before and after you.

He realized, quickly and bitterly, that the after you was worse than the before.

Before he knew of your existence, he was happy to be alone. He embraced the fact that kids at school thought him odd, unapproachable. That they would whisper about his habits behind his back. He was happy to know that no one wanted to be around him. It meant they didn't see what he saw. He didn't know anything else.

But the after you was considerably worse.

You had given him that breath of fresh air. That love that he had unknowingly reached out for his entire life. The way you and Satoru had touched him, he didn't even know his heart ached for that type of love. He didn't know he was depraved until you showed him.

He hated it. For a moment, he hated you.

In the first weeks after your death, he felt angry. He was bitter. Even as Satoru rubbed his back in bed. Even as he told Suguru it wasn't his fault. Even as everyone told him that you would hate to see him like that. He felt a hatred. A regret.

For months, he hated you.

He'd ignore topics centered around you. He ignored the day that Shoko and Satoru cleaned out your dorm for a new first year. He was stagnant and blank at the funeral your family held. When everyone walked up to recall memories about you, he didn't. He just listened and he thought that none of them truly captured you. They said you were kind, that you were funny, that you went our of your way to help whoever needed it.

If it was Suguru up there, he would've said you were selfish. That you always put your life on the line when it wasn't needed. That you were arrogant. That you could really make him worry.

But he loved you.

That's what he hated most. Isn't that the worst?

He hated that he loved the way he missed your hugs, your reassurances. He hated that he missed worrying about you. That he wouldn't ever see you again. That he wouldn't join you on a mission and be forced to listen to Yaga or fellow students worry about your sanity. He missed that sometimes you would play into Satoru's words, like saying the three of you were strongest together.

"Hey," Satoru called from across the training yard. Suguru barely looked up. "Have you lost some weight? Are you okay?"

Satoru became "The Strongest". His abilities were starting to blossom and it allowed him to work by himself. The higher-ups sent them alone. And Suguru hadn't felt more confined in his life.

"I'm just a little tired from the summer heat." Suguru easily explained it away, his hands buried deep within his pockets. "It's not a problem."

"Maybe you had too much somen noodles?" Satoru asked, niavely.

"No," Suguru wanted to snap at him. "It's the fact I can't eat without feeling sick. I can't taste anything except the fucking vomit of the curses. I hate it. I hate it. I'm always sick. I'm so hungry. But I can't eat."

Instead, he sighed. "Maybe."

The curse population was springing up like maggots. Everywhere and all consuming. The summer had been busy and Suguru truly was tired. In his heart, he started to blame the mess of last year for the increase of curses. It was easier to blame that than nothing. It was better to put a face to his suffering rather than blame himself.

The repetitiveness of his life was becoming crushing.

An endless cycle of exorcism and consumption.

Exorcise. Consume.

You had once asked him what curses tasted like. Under a beautiful tree and a beautiful night sky. You stared at him from your place on the ground. "Suguru, what does it taste like?"

"It's a taste nobody knows." He had explained. "Like ingesting a rag used to wipe up vomit."

Exorcise. Consume.

"Oh," You had uttered, a heavy frown on your lips as you pondered on it. "I'm sorry."

Exorcise. Consume.

He didn't need your pity then. But it had been nice. It felt nice for someone to pretend they understand the disgust, the bitter tang. He pretended that it helped.

"Thanks."

Then, you asked, "Would it help if you had mints?"

No. "Yes."

That first Christmas you all spent together, you got him mints. And, despite it doing nothing, he still popped one in his mouth every time. False hope that something could push down the disgust he had for his technique, for what he was considered special for. What lengths he went to save people.

For what?

Every since that day, the day you and Riko died, it's been running through Suguru's head. That everything he saw, Toji, your blood, your brains, the never-ending applause of the cult members— it was a hideous evil known to everyone. What he saw wasn't anything out of the ordinary. Still, knowing that, he protects them as a Jujutsu sorcerer.

"We can't lose our way." You had reassured one day when the curse you and him were fighting was particularly ruthless. It had killed so many people that the both of you hadn't been the same for weeks. "Don't lose your way. We just have to follow through with our duty as sorcerers."

The thunderous applause took over that of his heart.

"Monkeys." Suguru uttered in the shower. The first time he whispered it. His eyes unmoving from the wall as the water trickled down, down, and down.

Your eyes were blank.

"Do you hate them, Suguru?"

His hand clenched above him. "Fucking monkeys."

He snapped the water off and robotically dried himself off.

Suguru felt like he was merely living through the motions. That he was being guided other peoples words and the wind itself. He was merely a leaf being blown away. There wasn't anything he could do to stop it. Nothing he could do to ground himself and force himself to take the wheel. To be in control. He could only watch on.

He found himself hunched over on the bench near the vending machines. He barely acknowledged the rain that poured outside. It was one of those days. Those days where the weather matched his mood and made it considerably worse. Maybe he could get away with hiding inside his dorm. Being curled on the bed and not appearing until the rain was well gone— when Satoru couldn't ask him if he's ate.

He closed his eyes in defeat. How could loneliness possibly feel worse now than it did then? He'd been alone for years before. Why was it worse now?

"Hi! Mister Geto!"

Suguru's eyes snapped open and dragged upwards. "Haibara..."

You liked Haibara. You said so on his first day. When he enthusiastically introduced himself to everyone— gave his blood type and his family history. You had laughed for twenty minuets. You said that Haibara was like a breath of fresh air. He had no idea what he was getting into and he was happy. Suguru said you were looking into it too much. You didn't agree. Then you invited both him and Nanami to join you all on a trip to Shinjuku.

You liked Haibara. He was sweet.

You liked Haibara. So did Suguru.

"Hope all is well!" Haibara continued, seemingly ignorant to the war raging on in Suguru's mind.

You liked Haibara. You trained him. He was sweet.

So did Suguru. "What can I get you to drink?" Suguru asked, pulling some change from his pockets.

"I couldn't possibly—" Haibara's eyes glanced at the vending machine then his eyes brightened. "I'll take a coke!"

Suguru couldn't help the little laugh that broke through his lips. Amusement in his eyes for the first time in a while as he gently dropped the change into the junior's cupped palm. Haibara pratically skipped over to the vending machine, dropping the coins in, and retrieved his coke.

Fully expecting him to carry on with a thanks, Suguru was a little surprised that he sat down beside him and smiled big.

"My mission tomorrow is pretty far away." The boy started, wiggling with excitement.

Suguru smiled softly. "That so? I'll be expecting a souvenir then."

"You got it! Something sweet or savory?"

"Satoru will probably have some too, so maybe something sweet."

This was the normal. It felt refreshing for everything to be so normal. A silent agreement amongst the second and third years to get everyone who asked a souvenir from their respective mission areas. It made for interesting foods or items. Silly things that he could place on his shelf or for him to take a bite and Satoru to steal the rest. Usually complaining about how no one ever gets him anything. Just like Okinawa when you picked that hat—

Your eyes were empty.

Suguru's smile faded away.

"Haibara..." He spoke, not entirely aware if his junior was speaking before he was. But Haibara's eyes moved to him with curiosity. He bowed his head once again. "Are you okay with being a Jujutsu sorcerer? Doesn't it bother you?"

Immediately, the junior took the question seriously. His chin rested between his finger and thumb, eyes narrowed in thought. "Hm... good question..." He uttered, a vague pout on his lips. "I'm not really the type to think too hard about things..."

"I don't think we should underestimate Haibara or Nanami." You had defended the two new boys against Satoru's beratement one day. Your eyes cut to where they were practicing against Yaga's cursed dolls. "We all started somewhere. I'm sure they'll surprise us one day."

"Giving my all toward something I know I can help with is a great feeling!" Haibara finally answered, snapping his fingers and looking at Suguru head on.

Suguru couldn't help the way his eyes widened. For whatever reason, his answered shocked him. It was a pure answer. Further proof that Suguru was different from everyone else. Proved that he was slowly losing a part of himself. Haibara hadn't been graced with the same tragedy he had. He didn't know the cruelty of people and was still hopeful.

"I see..." Suguru uttered, looking away once again.

"You're right." Spoke another voice that neither of them know. Both of the boys looked over to the woman that stood a few feet from them. She was tall, long blonde hair and she wore a smile on her face. "Are you Geto? What kind of girls are you into?"

Your eyes were blank.

He only stared in return.

"I like girls with healthy appetites!" Haibara answered happily.

Suguru frowned. "Haibara."

"It's fine!" He turned to Surguru with a bright light in his eyes. "She's not a bad person. I'm a pretty good judge of character!"

Suguru felt something in his chest shift.

"Do you hate them, Suguru?"

"You say that while sitting next to me?" He uttered, sparing the junior a sidelong glance.

"Of course!" Haibara didn't hesitate.

The woman laughed, resting a hand on her hip. "He was being sarcastic, kid!"

No, I'm not. Suguru almost felt compelled to say. But he didn't have the energy. There wasn't any point in arguing with this stranger either. She didn't know him and he didn't know her. Something he would happily continue to stay true.

Embarrassed, Haibara excused himself with the woman quickly taking his spot. In an instant, Suguru drew back and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Is he your junior? Such an honest and cute kid."

Suguru couldn't help the distasteful glare he sent from the side. "As a jujutsu, he shouldn't be so trusting." He said bitterly.

The woman looked a little discouraged by his little jab, but continued on. "And you, Geto? Are you going to answer my question?"

"Answer mine first— who are you?"

The woman raised her chin, a small smirk on her lips. "Special grade sorcerer Yuki Tsukumo. Ring a bell?"

"You're the...?"

Yes. Yes, it did. Suguru thought bitterly.

He could distinctly recall you rambling on about Tsukumo. On how you wished you could be like her. Someone highly recognized and didn't care what the higher-ups said— just lived her life. To Suguru, it sounded like Tsukumo was kind of a failure. But to you, it was as if she was a symbol of something amazing. Proof that something that was suddenly attainable to you.

Suguru had been convinced you just had a crush on her.

"Nice! The what?"

Suguru clenched his jaw at her interruption of his thoughts. "The no-good special grade who doesn't take on any missions and just bums around overseas." He informed her flatly.

The woman's smile slipped away and she pouted heavily. "I hate Jujutsu High!" She fell back, her elbows rested on the back of the bench. She sulking. "Just kidding. But I'm not lying when I say we don't see eye-to-eye. What they do here is treat symptoms. What I want is to get at the root cause."

Suguru couldn't help perking up with interest. "The root cause?" He asked slowly.

"I don't want to exorcise curses after they appear. I want a world where curses don't even exist."

He stared at her in shock. A world without curses? He felt like he could almost rejoice. His heart gave a little skip and he almost felt like things were normal.

"How about a little lesson? Tell me, what are curses anyway?"

He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. "Curses are created when cursed energy leaks from humans. It then gathers like sediment and takes form." He answered easily. It was something taught in their first year, something everyone knows.

"Excellent," Tsukumo encouraged, nodding. "If that's the case, there are two ways to create a world where curses no longer exist: one, eradicate cursed energy from all humanity. Two, teach humans how to control their cursed energy. The first one's not a bad idea. There was a model case for it after all."

"A model case?"

"Someone you're familiar with: Zen'in Toji."

Almost instantly, Suguru felt an anger rush over him. Toji. That was someone else that he tried to avoid thinking about. Usually, it only led to thoughts darker than when he thought about you. He thought about the various things he would've done to Fushiguro if given the chance. The slow and torturous death he would've given to him if he had the chance. He doubted it would eat away the hatred in his heart, but Suguru would take anything to have him suffer as you did. As he did.

"There have been several cases where heavenly restriction has reduced a person's cursed energy to normal levels. But to eradicate one's cursed energy completely... I've searched all over the world, and he's the only one who's ever done it. But that's not the only thing that's interesting about him. Despite not having cursed energy, Zen'in Toji was able to sense curses using his five sense. By eliminating all cursed energy, his body became sharpened to the point where he developed a resistance to curses."

A part of Suguru really wanted to tell Tsukumo that he didn't care. That monster died and he was glad to hear it. Even if he was the only way to get rid of curses, he was overjoyed that the man was dead now.

"Don't feel bad about losing him." Suguru scoffed, face blank. "I wanted to research him but he blew me off. It's too bad he died."

You smiled at Riko. You held her shoulders. You were going to take her home.

Your eyes were blank.

I killed Gojo Satoru.

"Cases of heavenly restriction are few and far between. So my focus is on two." Tsukumo seemed completely unaware of Suguru's mind raging on while she spoke. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. "Did you know, jujutsu sorcerers don't give birth to curses?"

That snapped Suguru out of his thoughts. He slowly dragged his eyes to stare at the side of the woman's head as she carried on.

"Of course, that's excluding cases where sorcerers become curses after death—" Do you hate them, Suguru? "—The amount of cursed energy that leaks from sorcerers, compared to from non-sorcerers, is extremely low. There is a difference in how much we consume and use cursed energy because of our profession. But the real reason lies in how it flows through us. For sorcerers, it flows heavily within us. If we're talking general terms— if every single human became a jujutsu sorcerer, no curse would ever be born again."

Suguru's world as he knew it, paused.

The thunderous applause returned. The cheers as Satoru carried Riko's body through the crowd.

The deafening thud of your body as you fell lifelessly to the ground. Riko's scream as your blood painted half of her face. The way his heart echoed against his head as he stared.

You eyes were blank.

Those people. Humans. Non-sorcerers. They created the world that killed you. They created a world where he was alone.

Do you hate them, Suguru?

"Then why not just kill every non-sorcerer?" He asked softly, not daring to lift his head or eyes from between his feet.

There was a silence between the two of them that made him tense up. He said something wrong. But why didn't it feel wrong? Why didn't the suggestion disgust him or make him sweat? Why did it feel like an idea that was meant to be said?

"Geto," Tsukumo finally spoke, voice slow and calculated. "That is an option."

What?

"In fact, that might be the easiest route!"

Suguru slowly lifted his eyes from the floor and stared at the woman next to him with wide eyes. Now, he felt it. He felt the sweat on his brow. It's an option. "What?" He uttered, tilting his head to try and meet her eye as she stared into the distance. "Um..."

"Weed out non-sorcerers and make them adapt to a jujutsu sorcerer based society. In other words, forced evolution. Kinda like how birds grew wings. Using dear and danger as a catalyst."

It's an option. Suguru couldn't shake his stare. He was holding his breath and just staring at her.

"But," There it is. "I aint' that crazy."

She looked amused, but she didn't know him. She didn't know his feelings and the fact that he hated—

"Do you hate non-sorcerers, Geto?" She asked it sincerely.

Do you hate them, Suguru?

His eyes went back the floor, ashamed. "I don't know." He started with a whisper. "I used to think jujutsu sorcerers existed to protect non-sorcerers. But recently, I've been doubting whether non-sorcerers are worth fighting for. The preciousness of the weak. The ugliness of the weak. I can no longer tell the difference. The part of me that looks down on non-sorcerers.... the part of me that tries to resist that feeling...."

The thunderous applause returned. The cheers as Satoru carried Riko's body through the crowd.

The deafening thud of your body as you fell lifelessly to the ground. Riko's scream as your blood painted half of her face. The way his heart echoed against his head as he stared.

You eyes were blank.

"If being a jujutsu sorcerer is like running a marathon, then the finish line is too unclear." Suguru placed a hand against his forehead, hairs tangled between his fingers. "I don't know what I really feel."

"It's understandable, you know?" Suguru glanced at her with a frown as she eyed him contemplatively. "You watched your friend die, right? It's never easy. Messes you up. I'm sure I don't have to tell you."

You don't.

"Death and mourning something can really conjuring some nasty things in your mind. Like killing non-sorcerers— you want to take that anger out on someone. The anger for your friend's life being taken away." She explained it like it was so easy, as if she knew his next steps when he did not. "But looking down on non-sorcerers... resisting that feeling... those are just possibilities you've thought of. Whatever your true feeling is, you still have to decide."

The conversation didn't lead to anywhere else and Suguru was feeling himself grow more tired the more he stayed away from his dorm. He was about to excuse himself when Tsukumo asked for him to follow her out. She didn't say much on the way out and Suguru was grateful for it.

The woman got on her bike and waved at him. "I'll see ya! I was hoping to say hi to Gojo as well. Bad timing, I guess." She slid her goggles on. "As fellow special grade sorcerers, let's all three of us get along, okay?"

Suguru gave her his best smile, which wasn't much. "I'll send you regards to Gojo."

Tsukumo smiled, starting up her bike. She was about to ride off when she looked back at him. "One last thing. Don't worry about what happened with the Star Plasma Vessel. Whether there was another vessel or another vessel was born— whatever happened, Tengen is stabilized."

He didn't think it possible, but his hatred grew. Tengen is stabilized.

The thunderous applause returned. The cheers as Satoru carried Riko's body through the crowd.

The deafening thud of your body as you fell lifelessly to the ground. Riko's scream as your blood painted half of her face. The way his heart echoed against his head as he stared.

You eyes were blank.

Tengen is stabilized.

Suguru bowed his head as she drove off. "I figured."

What the fuck had you died for, anyway?

Haibara was dead and he'd seen the body. The entire time Suguru thought of you.

As Nanami attempted to hold back tears, as he explained that they were caught off guard by a special grade, Suguru saw you in Haibara's place.

Both of you victims of a system created to protect people who weren't grateful. Who didn't even know you exist. People who had spared both of you not a single glance despite being so caring, so selfless. Who were they to put this unbearable burden on everyone's shoulders then act like you were different?

Haibara was sweet. You liked him. So did Suguru.

Haibara was dead. So were you. Suguru felt hatred build in him.

As he stared at Haibara's bloodied face, he had thought one thing: who would suffer for this death?

Gojo completed the mission. Gojo exorcised the curse. Gojo. Gojo. Gojo. Gojo.

Gojo.

Why should Gojo be the one wrecking havoc? When it was Suguru that was filled with rage? When he was the one that wanted nothing more than to harm the ones that caused this all?

Do you hate them, Suguru?

"What is this?" Suguru asked slowly, staring at the sight before him.

Two girls seemingly coward away from him. Their faces bloodied and bruised. The cage that contained them offered no comfort. Just the cold hard ground and the darkness. They shook under his gaze and he couldn't find it in himself to look away. He couldn't turn around and question the people behind him. He did not know what he'd do if he looked them in the eyes as they explained themselves.

"What do you mean? These two are responsible for the incident, right?" Asked one man.

Suguru clenched his jaw. "No, they are not."

"These two possess strange powers and often attack the villagers."

This was of your own creation.

"I already dealt with the cause for the incident."

"My grandchild nearly died because of these two!" Protested the elderly woman as if she realized that Suguru wasn't going to believe these two were responsible.

The blonde child leaned forward. "That was because they—"

"Shut up you monsters!"

"Your parents were the same! I knew we should've killed you when you were born!"

As the two adults berated the children, Suguru came to a decision. His heart was no longer torn in two. As he stared at the girl's, his resolution was made.

He lifted his finger and a shadowed curse sprouted. "It-It'll be okay..." The girls stared at him with wide eyes, almost relieved. If he were a different man. If he in a different mindset then, he would've cried over the relief that washed over them. "Do...Don't worry... it'll be o-okay."

He ignored how familiar the voice was, how familiar the words were. He'd grown used to finding something that wasn't there in the curses he had collected. The fact that the ones he barely manifested were the ones that sounded like you the most.

Suguru turned around to the villagers and smiled. One that he hadn't managed to conjure up in some time.

"Let's step outside for a moment, shall we?"

The two followed him out and Suguru wasn't sure what words he said, what movement he made, but he could see the horror in their eyes. As he manifested his beloved curses, the one people like them had created, he felt an anger bubble up. Emotions that he had desperately pushed aside in an attempt to continue his life were now running their way to the forefront of his mind.

The grief of losing you. The anger of the complete disregard of you life by the society as a whole. The fact that there was nothing left of you now. Nothing—

"Suguru, do you hate them?"

His body stiffened. His wide eyes dragged from the horrified, begging people before him, to over his shoulder. The shadow that loomed over him now.

He'd read about this before. It was some obscure book he found while researching previous curse manipulators. It talked about various things that he used to prove to Yaga that he was learning something. One section had piqued his interest, but it was never information that he'd use in random day-to-day. Vengeful spirits. Usually, this only happened after sorcerers die without jujutsu being used against them. Their very soul and spirit is corrupted and transformed into something horrible. Something darker than who they truly were in life.

As Suguru stared at the spirit before him now, he knew what he had inadvertently done to you. The way your large body curled around him, wisps of what should be hair floating above you, your body clad in an open and flowing kimono. What caught his eyes the most, were your own eyes. Despite being almost invisible, he was relived. They were not blank. Instead, they looked like they burned with the rage he had held back for years.

It was as if you were the extension of his very soul.

"It should be noted that if you find yourself attached to a vengeful spirit: You must establish a clear master/servant bond. As the spirit is attached to your own soul, they musn't be allowed to overcome you. If exorcism is not an option, then create a clear set of rules. Summon them only when necessary. Vengeful spirits are not to be taken lightly."

"Suguru, do you hate them?" Your eyes did not leave his.

This time, he didn't hesitate nor lie. "Yes."

He heard them whimper in fear.

You moved unnaturally, but he didn't care. "Do you want them to die, Suguru?"

His eyes narrowed. "Yes."

Your hand rested on his shoulder and he didnt even care if your talon like nails dug into his flesh. He watched, awestruck, as you turned your feral gaze onto the cowering villagers. "Can I hurt them for you, Suguru?"

Despite your state, despite what it meant for him, he couldn't help but feel the warmth blossom through his chest. He basked in the feeling of your brushed against his shoulder.

"Yes."

An unnatural smile creeped over your face and your shot forward, now clutching your katana.

All Suguru could think was: you're back.

"Suguru....what have you done?"

Geto adjusted his gojogesa with a emotionless mask over his face. The bags that had adorned his eyes for the past year were mostly gone. He was finally able to eat. His mind wasn't constantly ringing with that thunderous applause or the thud of your body. Instead, he was free. There was silence.

Except whenever you spoke.

"Where did you get that energy? Suguru, answer me!"

He had seen Gojo a week ago. He had said his goodbyes, vaguely masked as threat. Geto knew what they were now. Enemies by default. He knew it couldn't be long before the higher-ups found out about the village— known exactly what he'd become that night. He was a curse user.

God, was that a great feeling.

Geto was giddy that night. He couldn't help the giddiness he felt with his freedom. The happiness he felt as he held Nanako and Mimiko in his arms, trekking through the woods to the main street where he dragged them to his parent's house. That whole situation had been something in itself. Their anger, their confusion, the heartbreak for not understanding their son anymore.

Geto had simply taken what he needed for the twins, then left you to take care of his parents.

"You feel it, don't you, Gojo? You see them."

There was an assortment of things that Geto found himself doing after he defected. He suddenly found himself in the place of taking care of two twin girls that clung to his clothes and followed his every word like he was the Buddha guiding them towards enlightenment. There big eyes screamed the thank you's that he did not need or would accept. Still, he could tell that they were trying to prove that they were useful to him. Whatever that meant coming from a pair of 6 year olds.

The second thing he'd started was taking over the Star Plasma Religious Group. Although he heard they had disbanded a year prior, it appeared that they were just absorbed by another money hungry fool scamming them for every last cent they had. Not that he was about to go bad mouthing other people's methods for something he was about to do himself. It was surprisingly easy to take over a religious group when you had a vengeful spirit hanging off of you. The men, although easy to get on his side, he still killed. There was no point to their existence now. Not when he had his own plans outside from worshipping the likes of Tengen.

The last thing he was taking care of was you.

"....What did you do?"

"Nothing. I did nothing. They're was always with me."

Geto's adventure back into the books covering vengeful spirits was actually welcomed this time around. As a younger student, he hadn't really cared to think about what would happen to him if he happened to die in a terribly normal way. But now it was something he regarded with the utmost fascination. The different descriptions of vengeful spirits made him ponder exactly what you were.

Violent and seeking revenge. Sad and lost. Unaware they're dead and seeking guidance. Plague that spreads death, leeching off certain hosts. Clingy, they seek approval from the attached for their actions. These spirits had a connection with the host in their life and feel something unfinished in their death.

He could remember the look in Gojo's eyes as his eyes strained to look over Geto's shoulder. The fear and the realization that washed over him. The anger in his eyes as he seemed to grieve over not only Suguru, but you as well. The waver in his voice as he asked Geto what he had done. It almost made Geto feel bad.

Almost.

Gojo had his life laid out for himself. The higher-ups knew what they could do with him. He was practically bred and born for his role amongst everything. He'd live and die the jujutsu society. Something that always unsettled Suguru, but something Geto accepted. He came second. Last compared to jujutsu.

At least he had you. It was you and him first. Then Gojo. He could make this work again. He wouldn't let anything happen to you again.

Geto shifted his attention elsewhere as he flattened his robes.

God, he really did look the part now, didn't he? Except, maybe, the hair. But he wasn't doing anything about it.

"This place is still a religious group to the public, are you okay with that?" Asked one of the nameless faces that Geto would encounter in his life.

He over looked the stage before him with a flat expression. "As long as I can collect curses and money, that's all right." He reassured.

The man frowned, looking at Geto with some vague confusion. "Are you really going out there like that?"

He let a grin spread across his lips. "Why not? Bluffing and looking the part is important."

"Master Geto..."

He spared the twins a soft glance, a reassuring smile gracing his features. He reached down and ruffled their hair gently. "Be sure to watch closely." He whispered to them, watching with a warmth in his heart as they smiled and giggled at one another. "Have they gathered?"

"Directors, representatives. The chairman. And a lot more money waiting."

Geto grinned, taking the microphone from the man, and making his way out onto the stage.

The last time he'd been in the building they were giving a thunderous applause for Riko's death and, by extension, yours. He had been waiting a year to see them all again. To look them in the eyes and find a proper way to make them suffer. To make them feel the same fear or suffering that you and Riko had in your last moments.

"Can everyone hear me? Thank you for waiting, I'll keep this short." He announced as he came to a stop before them all. Nameless faces, judgmental side eyes, questionable whispers to one another. They did not remember Suguru. But he would make sure they remembered Geto. "As of this moment, this group is mine. We'll have a new name as well. You all will obey me."

Instantly, there was a scattered rise of opposition in the crowd.

Geto's grin faltered as he listened to the various questions of exactly who was he made their way to him. He could hear the anger and the confusion. His frustration heightened.

"Well, isn't that a shame." He dragged a hand over his face, eyes grazing the crowd before he grinned one more. He tried to look as inviting as he could, waving a hand at one man in particular. "Mister Sonoda! Could you please come up to the stage? Yes, that's right, you!"

As the older man stood from his seat and hobbled his way up, Geto narrowed his eyes. Despite his smile, his eyes couldn't hide the contempt and the hatred he had for the man before him. He could see that he noticed in the way he faltered on the steps. But pushed through and stood by Geto's eyes.

He made eye contact with Sonoda, then— "Y/N."

He found it easy to summon you. To watch you tear away at the man who had so brazenly ordered Riko's death. To listen to the garbled expressions of hatred you exclaimed as you tore his enemies limb-by-limb. It felt like it was some form a justice. To finally see the horror in their eyes, the blankness of it all. Bittersweet for him to watch.

However, he couldn't stand there and watch you in awe forever. He had people to take under his control.

Geto turned his attention back to the crowd. Satisfaction grew in his chest as he saw the horror and shock fall over their faces. Easily, Geto threw the microphone away.

"Now then, let's try this again." He scowled at the crowd, feeling you loom over his shoulder once again. He used his thumb to brush away some of the blood. "Obey me, monkeys."

III. 2015

"Are you mad at me, Suguru?"

Things had been going smoothly for Geto in the past eight years.

The cult, because that's what he considered it, was running finely. Those who owed money, gave it to him, or else. Those who followed, followed with loyalty, or else. Those who served no purpose, were dealt with. He had created a normal amongst the congregation. A standard that he himself had wanted to watch them scramble to keep. A constant state of panic or devotion for them that fed into his, honestly, growing ego.

Things like his family kept him rather humble.

The girls had grown accustomed to their lives with Geto. They seemed to thrive and love under his care. All of them had grown to a routine that they cherished with one another. They even seemed accustomed to you. The fear and confusion of others wasn't found in their eyes or hearts. Geto never properly explained what happened after death if certain things didn't take place, but they understood anyone. They knew you were important to him— by extension making you important to them.

The other members of the family— Laure, Miguel, Manami, Toshihisa— had a vague understanding of exactly what a vengeful spirit entailed. Although, they weren't jumping at the opportunity to really talk about it. Laure had attempted once, but the conversation died out quickly due to the look on Geto's face. The man was quick to drop the topic once he saw the expression painting the leader's face. Allegedly, he looked ready to kill.

Earlier that day, though, Miguel was braver. And Geto was in a far clearer mood.

"How did it happen?" The man's deep voice asked gently from where he sat across from Geto. Once the confusion set in of his sudden question, he raised an eyebrow at the apparent shadow rested behind his chair. "How did they get cursed?"

Geto himself had thought about it for years. He wondered what point you had been damned blessed to be attached to his soul even after death. It took him a long time. In the mix of things, death and decay, the sharp turn of his ideals— he had barely any time to really think about what made you this spirit clinging onto his life.

Some books said that it could be the connection shared by the host and spirit before death. Others said that hosts had the ability to curse the spirit themselves. That their desperation and their inability to let go was the true reason that sorcerers would live on as something horrible. Something completely opposite as to who they were in life.

He had pushed the thoughts away before they could ever really come to fruition. The possibility that he had been the one to create you into this. The thought alone was enough to twist his stomach. So instead he ignored it. He lived in blissful ignorance.

"Just happens sometimes after death." Geto answered flatly, turning his attention back to his book. He knew there was curiosity amongst his family to know things about you. Afterall, you were considered a part of the family, but there was simply no room to have conversation with you. You either grew hostile or confused and sought Geto out for answers. "Sorcerers whenever they're killed by a non-curse way or something another.

"Hm," Miguel's hum had remained unconvinced as his eyes trailed back to you. As your fingers hovered over the corner of the seat, but you didn't peek out. "There was a couple in my village back home. They were considered the ideal relationship at the time— I was a kid and thought so too. They were kind people. I always enjoyed getting special treatment from the wife, she was like a mother. She was one of the only other people I ever met in my home country that could see curses. Everything was good. But then her husband went and died from sickness. There was something different from the moment she died. She went a little crazy and one day she went and got real angry. Then— boom, there's her husband. But he was different. He was like yours."

Geto hadn't really known what to make of that rather non-sensical story at the time. He had just stared at Miguel before nodding slowly in return. "That's tragic." He wasn't interested in the possibilities.

"Nanako told me it was hard on you when they died." Miguel carried on as if he hadn't very visibly paused for Geto to speak his heart out. "Said that you said it was the reason you're the way you are now."

There was moments where Geto felt frustration with the twins. Their willingness to be so open with the family. Their ability to talk about their emotions so easily. The fact that they couldn't keep a secret for their lives.

The conversation about you had come up when the house was particularly restless and they were morbidly curious. They asked what you were like alive. What he was like as a kid. What the both of you were like in high school. How did you die.

He had looked off distantly and recalled the details— although he left out the gorey, unlikeable parts. He left in the parts where he was sad, that he had a hard time. He explained it in a way that kids like them could understand and use later to make sure they didn't end up the same way. Isolated and full of hatred.

Then, he made the mistake of mentioning Gojo. Their questions fell on deaf ears as he wished them goodnight and tried to drown out the memories of his youth.

"Don't get on her case about it. She's was just curious what certain things meant." Miguel must've taken his silence as anger because he stared at Geto with pleasantly narrowed eyes. "Have you ever considered exactly what happened to them?"

The question wasn't hostile or had any nefarious undertones.

He might as well had threatened Geto though.

Your eyes were blank.

"Please get up."

Geto had quickly excused himself, claiming that he needed to head to bed. He didn't miss the disappointment in Miguel's eyes or the fact that he had tensed up as you drew closer. He didn't want to think about it. What had taken place before, during, and after your death. He didn't need the questions—

"Please get up."

Tonight he couldn't escape it.

Eight years worth of questions and mystery filled his mind. The things he didn't dare address or ponder upon.

Sitting against his headboard, staring blankly into the darkness, he knew exactly how things ended up like this.

Him, a pathetic boy, staring into your lifeless eyes— he had begged for you to be alive. He had laid there with tears in his eyes, a pain in his chest, and a wavering plead breaking from his lips. Before he had fallen unconscious, he reached out his hand.

He reached out his hand.

Your eyes were blank.

Geto knew that he had cursed you. That his pleads and desperately attempt at touching you one last time had somehow damned you. He didn't need to know how it worked. He just knew that it was his fault.

The disgust in Gojo's eyes, the heartbreak, the shock. It was all things Geto deserved. For he had robbed you of the eternal rest you deserved.

The tears collected in his eyes and, for the first time in eight years, he felt a heavy bought of regret press against his chest.

He's known you longer dead than you were alive. Two years of his life had ruled onto the next eight. He had let his grief blind him. He was desperate to not let you go. To keep up some illusion in his head that he would be able to keep you there. To not let you fade away.

Selfish. He'd never been selfish before your death.

"Suguru?"

Your voice, distorted and garbled, was not something that he wanted to hear in that moment. Whatever reason, you were beside the bed now, head rested against your arms. He barely spared you a glance as the tears spilled over.

Selfish. Here you were now. Some weird sense in you to come out and comfort him. He had done this to you. An eternity to comfort him.

Selfish.

"Suguru, are you angry?" You sounded concerned, an odd sound that it didn't seem to fit you now.

Geto clenched his jaw, flexing his fingers. "Only at myself." He uttered.

You inched forward on the bed, a heavy frown spread across your face. "Why are you angry at yourself?"

He finally dragged his eyes to you, lids heavy and face almost as lifeless as your own. "I cursed you." He said it quietly but it felt extremely loud in his empty room. He looked for any realization in your eyes, any type of anger directed at him, but there was nothing. You just stared in return. You should be enraged. "I cursed you. Don't you understand what that means?"

Still, you didn't look angry.

"You saved me—"

"No, no, I didn't." Geto interrupted, closing his eyes in mild irritation. "I didn't... save you. I cursed you. I-I cursed you to stay by my side as I kill. As I kill in your name, you should be angry, Y/N."

“But… they’ve hurt you.” You say it with such confusion and sincerity that it makes him sick.

It’s then that he realizes what this all meant.

If you were alive now, you would look at him with all the rage in the world. You would damn him. You would be disgusted. If you were alive you would probably try to get him to see it all differently. You would tell him that staying with Gojo would’ve been better than this isolation, than this constant feeling in his chest. You would’ve known better than him.

It was then that he realized that he still blamed you for a lot. He wasn’t sure if things would be the same if just Riko died. Or maybe if you all had lived. Would he still be drawn to the same fate only later? Sometimes he was hopeful that he would be the same. Other times he wished he didn’t. All of it led to one thing: his anger for you.

There were some nights he would stay up and think about what you would do in his position. You would forgive them, try to use death as a chance to grow. You were much kinder than him. Or maybe you would be driven insane. None of you had quite tasted death until that mission. You probably would’ve handled things much differently than him if you had seen where Haibara ended up.

Bitterly, Geto thought, you probably would’ve given up.

Your sadness was always prone to taking you down. To whisper those forbidden and nasty things to you until you just wanted to bleed. You admitted to him and Gojo once that you didn’t even think you would make it to high school once. It scared them both, but you always got back up.

Yeah, you wouldn’t handle the sadness.

With a clenched jaw, Geto reached out and held your face. “I made you into this. You only kill and feel that way because that’s how I feel. Doesn’t that make you angry? Don’t you hate me?” He so desperately wanted you to see it from his point of view. He wanted the logic of it all to hit your brain and for you to finally finish what Toji and Gojo couldn’t— properly kill him.

However, just as you were in life, you would never take his life.

“I don’t care about those things.” You uttered in that distorted voice, those eyes of yours filled with emotions that he couldn’t hand pick. “Have I done something to upset you, Suguru?”

"No." Geto answered without hesitation. He pinched his eyes closed and took a deep breath. "I just want you to understand what this is."

He could feel your nail ghost over his thigh. "I understand."

Geto didn't believe you did, but he didn't have the energy to fight you. Not anymore. A part of him would always long to have a good long argument with you. But now it felt different. It felt as if it were all fabricated.

You were too agreeable now.

Please don't die. Please don't leave me.

But he supposed this was his punishment now. For being so desperate.

He rested his hand on top of your head. "Thanks for listening, I guess."

He can deal with the guilt later.

IV. 2017

Geto Suguru knew this would happen.

At least, a part of him was aware that death with a very high likely once he looked Gojo Satoru in the eye and declared war. Maybe even before that as he overlooked the mess of blood and limbs Rika had left behind at the elementary.

Either way, Geto Suguru knew this would happen.

"Hey," You had spoke one day as the three of them lounge in the courtyard. You had your uniform jacket open and your hair loose from the headband you wore to keep it out of your face. A good memory if it weren't for your next question. "Is it good to live a dishonorable life and have a honorable death, or a honorable life with a dishonorable death?"

"Huh? Why would you ask that now?" Satoru had pouted.

You had shrugged. "I mean, Yaga-sensei says that to be a sorcerer we'll have to live with our regrets, but he never talks about honor."

Satoru, in true fashion, rolled his eyes at you before taking a large bite out of his sandwich. "Because it's a bunch of self righteous mumbo-jumbo." He had said through a mouth full.

"Whatever." Your eyes dragged to Suguru. Your face had blossomed into a soft smile. "What do you think, Suguru?"

Suguru had frowned, biting on his lower lip as he thought. "I think what we all consider honorable varies. At the end of the day, you'll have to look back on your life yourself and decide whether you lived it worth wild." As you and Satoru stared at him with raised eyebrows, he shyly shrugged. "Don't worry about how honorable or dishonorable you'll be to others— just live a life that'll make you happy."

While you stared at him with someone akin to awe, Satoru stared blankly at him before bowing. "Truly inspirational, Suguru-sama, please invoke more of your wisdom on us!"

You had defended Suguru fervently as Satoru crowed against your assault. Then, he had been unwavering in his beliefs.

Now, Geto Suguru, stumbling down the ally with a missing arm, knew that all was bullshit.

There was nothing honorable or dishonorable about death. It was all a matter how people viewed you at the time. No one would be truly satisfied with their death because there would be a long list of things they wished they had done or hadn't done in their life.

As Yaga had said, they would all die with regrets.

His plans to obtain Rika had been rooted from a place of pure selfishness. His need to find alternative needs that didn't include using you in the most indescribable and unforgiveable way. He knew, deep down, that if he had used you the way that he planed to use Rika's powers— he would never forgive himself.

He hadn't even wanted to use you against Okkotsu Yuta. But that kid was something else. Most definitely a protege of Gojo Satoru. He could recall the caught off guard look on Okkotsu's face once you appeared. The confusion and the shock that overtook him as you wrapped yourself around Geto Suguru. He had uttered something that made the man falter.

"You're like me?"

There were so many things something that could mean.

You're like me: you're cursed with a love by your side, permanently protecting you against things that you didn't think were dangerous.

You're like me: someone had died so close to you that couldn't quite detach themselves from your soul.

You're like me: you cursed another because you couldn't accept that death was final?

Yes, Geto Suguru bitterly thought as his drive to kill Okkotsu grew. I did.

Now, Geto Suguru couldn't even feel you brewing with his soul. He didn't even think there'd be a difference if you ever left him. But there was this odd sense of loneliness deep within him that made him sick (definitely had nothing to do with the intense blood loss). His stomach churned as his mind silently cried out for you.

Was this true death? Nothing left to hold onto, just the memories and emptiness?

You're like me: you can't live without them.

Geto Suguru fell against the wall of the alley with a bitter scoff. Of course he couldn't. No matter how much he tried to convince himself, he spent the last 10 years attach his very life and soul around you. Tried to act like a big boy whenever he was asked what he would do if he was freed from this curse.

He didn't even get to say goodbye.

Your eyes were blank.

"You finally made it," Geto Suguru snorted as he shifted his eyes over to the looming figure feet from him. "Satoru."

There was something so jarring seeing him now.

Compared to when he arrived a month prior, Gojo Satoru lacked those bandages around his eyes. Those blinding and once comforting pair of sky blues were staring into his very soul blankly. Did he realize that he wasn't coming to say goodbye to you? To free you from a monster like Geto Suguru? That he had actually used you in a last ditch effort to obtain Rika?

He was sure he was aware now.

"You'll be the one to take me down, huh?" He kept a hold on his shoulder as he dragged his eyes away from Gojo Satoru to avoid the unbearable guilt that overcame him. Years of regret and what if's overtaking his mind. "How's my family?"

As long as Nanako and Mimiko were safe, he could die without regret.

"They all got away. Kyoto was your doing too, wasn't it?" Gojo Satoru's voice was as telling as it was 10 years ago. As saddened and angered as the day he had walked away from it all.

"Yeah, unlike you, I'm a kind person. You sent those two here knowing I'd defeat them.... just so you could trigger Okkotsu's growth." He had been thinking about it since the moment Okkotsu's eyes had darkened. The unbearable grief that took over the boy as he eyed his unmoving and bloody friends.

Your eyes were blank.

"It's called trust. People with beliefs like yours wouldn't kill a young sorcerer without reason."

Geto Suguru laughed. "Trust, huh?" He couldn't help the amusement flow through him. After all these years... "I didn't realize you still felt any connection with me."

His counterpart responded with a scoff. "Suguru." It was said with the weight of a thousand lonely days— as if Satoru had thought the same. As if nothing had changed. The man clenched his jaw, ducking his eyes from view as he spoke once again: "Any last words?"

Geto Suguru drew in a heavy breath, things were really getting hazy now— almost feather light. "No matter what, I'll always hate those monkeys." His words were said with the disdain and hatred of the past ten years. Then he thought about where he was 10 years ago. The grief and the isolation that overtook him. He grew quiet. "But it's not like I hate everyone at Jujutsu High. It's just that in this world... I couldn't wear a heartfelt smile."

Satoru stood there in silence. Seeming to take in the words carefully.

"Anything else?" He uttered.

Suguru frowned, ducking his head. There was one thing he had been thinking about for the past two years that grappled him in the most unnerving ways. "Do you think they'll forgive me?" His question was soft and barely there— he was barely there himself anyway.

Satoru scoffed, except it sounded more fond than before. "They were always too forgiving of us. If you're worried about your purgatory being apologizing to them for eternity, then you're fine— it'd be too easy anyway." He joked softly, except his blank expression didn't quite add to the comfort or joke of it all.

I'd spend the rest of time apologizing. Suguru fought the urge to say.

"I figured."

"Suguru," Satoru took attentive steps forward, crouching down to his level. Their eyes met and there was something almost tangiable in that gaze of his. "I love you. I forgive you."

Suguru couldn't help the shock that flushed over his body. As the pain seemed to leave him completely, he used the last bits of his strength to show Satoru a true smile. The only one he could really conjure.

"You could at least curse me at the end."

As Satoru stared at him, as Yuta Okkotsu celebrated with his friends the victory and their safety, and as Suguru took his last breaths, his eyes trailed over Satoru's shoulder.

You stared back with a kind smile. Looking more alive than you had in the past ten years, you wore the clothes you had the day you died, your normal boring uniform. Suguru hated to admit he missed seeing those terrible uniforms.

"Suguru."

[helioooss]

that one summer

synopsis: y/n recalls the summer that changed everything - the one where her and sana end up together

w/c: 2.9k

warnings: none, just cute stuff. not proofread so u can call me stupid 💀

a/n: i seriously can’t write fluff. it’s like i have to be profoundly sad all the time or else i can’t think. !!! how good is sailor song???

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

"You know, you're not bad looking," Dahyun starts and you're already rolling your eyes, knowing what's about to come out of her foul mouth. "You just give off, like, really big lesbian loser vibes."

"You haven't seen me in over two months and that's the first thing you say?" you ask her, brows furrowing. She isn't wrong, though, but there is no shame in admitting that either. "And what if I'm a loser?"

"Well, my friend, your grand plan is winning over miss Minatozaki Sana this year, aren't you?" she teasingly raises both of her eyebrows at you. “You really need to grow some balls, Y/N, like look at her at least once when she’s up close - not just from afar.”

You throw a piece of your lettuce at her and she instantly grimaces. “Shut up, you know I can’t do that.”

“Why don’t you hook up with Yunjin? I think she’s still into you,” and she introduces that idea as soon as Sana walks past your table, making you look down at your shoes just to avoid her striking gaze. “Whoops, said that too loud, didn’t I?”

You’re taken aback when Sana pulls away from her friend group and sits herself next to you. Then she unexpectedly wraps an arm around you…but you just had to move away.

"Oh?" Sana's lips curve into a frown, noticing how you're practically pushing her off of you as you let out a nervous chuckle. You want nothing but some sort of phenomenon to swallow you whole and never let you back out right now. "You're ignoring me now, baby?"

And that's it; it's the end of it all. You can feel Dahyun's sharp (and confused) glare from the corner of your eye, she's probably screaming in her head - maybe with a tinge of desire to choke you dead for not telling her why the girl you've been pining over for the past four years has her arms wrapped around you. And kissing you.

The girl in front of you chuckles, her palm tapping your cheek to pull out of whatever trance you're in. "Earth to my beautiful Y/N," she places an innocent kiss on your cracked and dry lips. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," you manage to choke out, breath hitching. No. Your cheeks are flushed, heart racing a million more beats than usual; everyone around you mirroring the same expression as your best friend. "What are you doing here?"

It must've sounded wrong to Sana cause now her face is feigned with hurt, mixed with a bit of anger. "Did you not want to see me?"

Dahyun decides that's her cue to leave. You nervously fidget with the hem of your shirt, refusing to look up at her. "No, no, it's not that!"

"You didn't even introduce me to her," Sana's attention is too focused on you that she only notices your best friend's departure when she's steps ahead of you two. "And why are you acting so cold?"

You purse your lips, trying to ignore the prying looks you're receiving from over half of the campus. "Because..." you're dragging your words out, unsure of how to tell her that to everyone else's eyes, she's a goddess.

And you're just you.

"Spit it out," she says in that firm tone that used to scare you as she crossed her arms. "Are you seeing other bitches in campus? Too embarrassed to be seen with me?"

"No, Sana!" you cry out, reaching for her arm. "That's the thing, this place has not seen me get a girl even if my life was on the line and now suddenly, you, you out of all people, are all over me."

"What?" her head is tilted and she looks so cute and you just wanna kiss that frown off her face.

Your frustration gets to the best of you. "I'm a loser who has not had a girlfriend since I stepped foot into this place - and literally, just literally, look at me."

She lets out a lopsided smile, ignoring half of what you just told her. "My gorgeous baby. You look amazing today - might need a haircut though. Your hair's looking a little too scruffy, yeah?"

"Yeah," you sheepishly say, getting distracted by how she can still look good in baggy blue denim jeans and a white baby tee. "I like my hair messy though."

She stands silent for a second, narrowing her eyes at you as she trails her fingers up and down your arm. "I bet you like that everyone swoons over it when it falls down your face."

"Yeah, bold of you to assume that people notice when my hair grows an inch longer - just like when they notice yours," you can't help but roll your eyes.

One thing you learned about Sana is that she's always jealous about the invisible girls that are crazy over you. To her, you have hoes, which comes off as a compliment but it's baffling to try and understand how she doesn't see that you have zero game. And you only pulled her by luck that summer night.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” she stares at you lovingly, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear. “Wanna walk me to my next class?“

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the summer that changed everything

The summer before your senior year was something else. It was hot, sticky and sweltering - the streets during daytime were almost empty as the city tucked themselves into the safety of their homes.

Today was no different. The sun was beginning to set and it offered no relief, remnants of the heat still hanging heavy in the air. You were walking along an empty street in your neighbourhood, skateboard in one hand and a Camus book on the other (you were trying to be mysterious, the park today had no one else but you and this guy from your active matter class).

From afar, you could see a sleek, shiny black car (a bit unusual for the place) in the middle of the road ahead of you and next to it was a girl in a white sundress as she paced around the area. She saw you approaching her and she couldn't wait any second longer - you were walking so slow and she just had to run towards you, heels clicking against the pavement.

You tightened your grip on your deck, prepared to deal with one of the many crackheads along this street. You've done it before and it wouldn't hurt to do it again.

When she was close enough to be perfectly seen by you, your knees began to melt and your head was screaming to run, but you stood frozen. It was Minatozaki Sana; head cheerleader and queen bee and she had bows in her hair and it was wavy and she looked sweaty and -

"Y/N!" she panted, seeming relieved at the sight of your familiar face. Your name rolled her tongue off like you could get used to it. "It's Y/N, right? We had the same classes last year."

Not really, you only had two lectures with her. Of course she wouldn't remember that though.

"Yeah, are you okay?" you asked in a worried tone despite the fluttering in your chest.

There was frustration etched on her face, something that you noticed she does whenever things don't go under her plans. "No, my car stalled and my phone's dead so I can't call for help. I'm supposed to be at a dinner party with my family!"

"I'd offer to help but believe it or not, I genuinely know nothing about cars. I'm like if a lesbian was useless,” you bit your tongue, regretting your existence already.

"You're gay?"

"Um, yeah," you cleared your throat, grabbing your cracked phone out of your pocket. "But here; maybe call a mechanic then an Uber?"

Her stare lingered, a tint of curiosity now plastered on her face. Her eyes travelled towards the skateboard and book on your head, then your tattoos before it finally landed on your phone. She took it without saying anything else.

You looked around, trying not to pry into her conversation with who you assumed was her mum. "Yeah, I'm bringing a friend, by the way. Just let everyone else know I'm not coming alone..."

Sana was too beautiful with her rosy cheeks and flawlessly sculpted lips. You could tell the goods took their time with her and instead of becoming the subject of art, she became the embodiment of it instead. Here you were, struck by her beauty once more and there was nothing you could do but watch as if she were something from a museum.

She could be mean at times, she had a status to protect after all, but it looked good on her. You were used to the taunting and sharp remarks from her friends despite her always telling them off - always trying to defend you for whatever reason.

"Let's go?" she tapped your shoulder, a grin on her face, and you just knew she was up to no good. "My driver's coming in ten minutes, we have to go to dinner with my family. Let's wait in my car."

"We what?" your eyes widened, smile faltering as you immediately transformed into a nervous wreck. "What? I can't, I have work in half an hour."

"You work at my cousin's record store, you'll be fine, he's going to be there."

"How do you know that?" you nearly shat yourself there, but you couldn't tell her that. Her eyes were striking and you didn't have the balls (literally) to say no so you allowed her to drag you around.

She reached out for your arm, her warm fingers wrapping around your skin to lead you into her car. “I have my sources.”

“I’m not even dressed for the occasion!”

“Just trust me, Y/N,” she replied, smiling.

And you did, because it was Sana, but her family would cook the shit out of the five dollars in your wallet as you stood in awe at the sight in front of you. You had always known that the Minatozaki's stood in a different tax bracket compared to everyone else - but you didn't expect Sana to live in an actual castle an hour away from the outskirts of the city.

Expensive black cars surrounded the sprawling gardens, they had people in front of the towering columns serving champagne glasses.

“Sana, I think I’m gonna shit myself.”

Over the next few days, Sana clung to you like you were the light of her life. Her family loved you instantly - and you were always welcomed back home. She would be at the record store while you were on shift, insisting to do a bit of manual labour because apparently, she had never lifted a box in her life.

You two spent hours sitting in the quiet corner of the shop - showing her all kinds of music that you assumed she wouldn’t be into. She would bring you lunch in her expensive heels (she eventually learned that sneakers were a must during working hours). Some days, she would sit at the skate park just watching you in your zone.

To you, she was Sana, but the feelings you harboured seemed to grow deeper and harder to keep. Like you could burst any moment.

During that night, your parents had just spent the entire night making their signature dishes for Sana. Coincidentally, their old restaurant was the one her dad had always taken her out to when she was younger.

You were unaware of the fact that it was the place she saw you for the first time in her life and just knew.

You drew the bottle of beer closer your lips, taking a big sip as you rocked back and forth on your seat. “Sorry about that - my parents are passionate about cooking.”

She chuckled. “How come they closed the restaurant?”

“Just financial issues, you know?” you answered truthfully, heart swelling with affection for her. “Dad got really sick one winter and with no one else to help mum, they decided to end that chapter.”

“Is he okay now?”

“Yeah, he is kicking life, just gets mad when he remembers that he has to look after himself.”

The air was much cooler now, leaves rustling as the wind carried a faint scent of the flowers in your mum’s garden. The sky was dotted with stars and the moonlight reflected against Sana’s hair - making her glow. You couldn’t take your eyes off her.

“So,” her voice was soft, the way she looked at you was filled with sincerity. “Last year of college, huh? What’s next for you, miss architect?”

You always knew what was ahead of you, but for some reason, sitting with Sana under the moonlight and her looking so beautiful, you felt scared to tell her. “Um, I think I’m heading overseas.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful,” she said, the disappointment visible in her eyes even though she tried to look excited for you. “Why?”

“My uncle said I could make better money working for his place, you know, with the currency difference and all that,” you cleared your throat, putting the bottle on the floor. “It’ll just be good for my family, and there’s really nothing in store for me here. I think if I disappeared today the city wouldn’t even notice.”

Your attempt at trying to lighten the mood just made her scowl deeper. “But I’m here and I would notice your absence.”

“If it weren’t for us getting to know each other this summer, I genuinely think you wouldn’t.”

It was true, you always lived a completely different life from Sana. Even though she was nice compared to how her friends treated you, there was still a huge wall between you. As soon as summer would be over, you know she’s retreating back to her side of the wall and away from you, and you’ll be watching her from the sidelines again.

She was quiet, eyes studying you carefully from the side. She didn’t like that you were kind to everyone but yourself. In her eyes, you were the most beautiful person to ever exist - she wanted you to see that you meant so much to her.

And without really thinking, she pulled your face and leaned in to kiss you. It was soft and tentative, and all too familiar, like coming home after a long day’s work knowing that the comfort of a kiss waits for you.

You held her closer, hands roaming down her back as her fingers danced in your hair. It was years worth of built up unspoken feelings and desire. When you finally pulled away, you were breathless as she leaned her forehead against yours. “Sana, I’m sorry -“

She kissed you again. “I’ve waited for this for so long,” her breath came in shallow. “You took your time.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

It’s only midday and you feel like it’s been going on for too long. You start rambling to Sana (who’s feeding you her strawberries) about the way Professor Song spoke to you in class, making you sound like your theory is stupid. "And he goes - my question is not opinion-based Y/N, you should know better, blah blah blah," you mimic his voice, failing to notice Sana's stone-cold look.

"What does Yunjin mean to you?"

The question catches you off guard for a second, the answer running through your head at a quickened pace. "What makes you ask that?" You internally recoil because you should've just given her a straight answer.

"Why is your ex-girlfriend constantly clinging onto you in the same way I do?"

"We never even dated!" your tone is defensive, voice a pitch higher. "We kissed once at one of Miyeon's parties during our first year - you were even there...with Jungkook at the time."

"That's not the point," she clenches her jaw, eyebrows creased and you know she's angry when she doesn't even smile at the dog that just strutted past you two. "I saw her playing with your hair and hugging you, and you let her. You wouldn't even let me do that with you in public.”

"That's how she is with everyone!"

"You should not be a part of her everyone list," she said sharply, intertwining her fingers with yours. "I swear if she -"

You place a hand on her nape, gently pulling her closer so your lips could meet. "Don't worry, okay? As soon as you meet her, she'll cling to you in no time."

She licks her lips, tasting the lip balm she bought you. "You're wearing the Glossier one?"

"Yup," you say, leaning your head on her shoulder. "You caught me at a bad time when you kissed me this morning and it was embarrassing - I had dry ass lips!"

"My favourite," she giggles, making you push her to the side. "Why did you think we weren't dating?"

"You never asked me," you told her, curiosity piquing when she moves in front of you and kneels down. “I just sort of assumed you wouldn’t even acknowledge me on campus - what exactly are you doing right now?”

“Really?” she rolls her eyes at you. “I don’t sleep around. You really think you could get away with giving me forehead kisses in the morning without becoming my girlfriend?”

“Well, don’t people do that?”

“Do you wanna be my girlfriend?” she holds your hand with adoration written all over her eyes. “Let me call you mine, always.”

You bite your lip at her cheekiness, not knowing Sana could show a playful side around everyone. “Then you’re going to have to officially meet my friends when the day is over because they always said I could never get one.”

“Am I your girlfriend now?”

“Sana, you’ve always been my girlfriend in my head.”

[luvrxbunny]

i think Miguel would get turned on by little things. like little details that someone would normally overlook or have no reaction to

so what made me think of this is specifically when girls say to guys that they’re gonna like— “fuck the life outta him” because technically it’s the guy doing the fucking but i think the tiny bit of role reversal would haunt his mind. he’s distracted for the rest of the day. his boner that he acquired when you said that never goes away

also if omg— i think this is just gonna turn into Miguel secretly wanting to be dominated (or just generally wanting to be treated how he treats others in a relationship) so hold on tight

if you’re passing him in the kitchen or something and— AHAHAAAA okay wait

so Miguel is chopping something in the kitchen but you need to get past him for the fridge or something. so he’s chop chop chopping and you scoot by, resting your hands on his hips to lean him forward a bit with a small “sorry, baby.” as you scooch by. you’d just hear his chopping stop and he’s getting hard already. you have about 30mins before he’s fed up and comes to u begging.

AND IF U DEFEND HIM??? omg he loses his shit. like falling into subspace no matter where u guys are— maybe not fully under but man is slipping.

let’s say you’re at a bar w Miguel and you go to the bathroom for two seconds. a girl approaches him all like “wanna buy me a drink, handsome?” and he’s like “oh! i’m flattered but i have a girlfriend!! so…” she’s like scoff scoff!! “she doesn’t need to know” wink wink and that irks him. it’s rude to his character and it’s rude to u. “i would never do that to her” he’s done w the convo so he turns back to the tv behind the bar, opting to watch whatever is happening there rather than the bitch beside him. but she’s still yapping! “what?? babe.. this is a once in a lifetime opportunity for u!! u can’t bend your rules just a little? *batting her ugly lashes* for me..?”

he just straight up rolls his eyes at her. she looks nothing like you so— “you are far from what i’d consider beautiful” he doesn’t even turn to her as he says it— he’s done w the conversation! but this bitch starts throwing a fit. “you’re a piece of shit loser okay?? you don’t know shit about beauty!! have u looked in the mirror honey?? looking like a fucking meatball is not in style alright?? i was doing you a fucking—“ she’s going on and on. some of her comments are starting to actually hurt Miguel’s feelings a bit (w his body issues and all) he’s about to just get up and wait by the girls bathroom for you but he’s scared to be seen as a creep. he feels dread sleeping in. he doesn’t know how long he’ll have to endure this before you come back and you both can just leave. “you’re an ugly 👏🏻 mother 👏🏻 fuck👏🏻er okay sweetheart?? you—“

“i’m sorry. did you call my boyfriend sweetheart?” relief floods through him at the sound of your voice. his head whips to see you, you have a playful smile on your face— but he knows the anger hidden behind it. it sends a little shock of excitement through his body. the woman’s eyes are wide as she stares at you, like she didn’t believe him when he said he had a girlfriend. “i— sis, listen”

you cut her off “i’m definitely not your sister. go on.” she pauses for a bit— shocked at your coldness before continuing. “girl to girl. you can do so much better, okay? your man— although “loyal” he is—“ you cut her off with a genuine laugh at he way she put quotations around the word ‘loyal’. “baby? finish your drink, okay? we’re leaving soon.” you look right past the girl, barely acknowledging her presence. Miguel nods frantically and downs the rest of his beer as you turn back to the girl.

“look. he’s my boyfriend. my man. i don’t care what you have to say. i don’t care what you say he did but i bet you i can guess the entire scenario” you have a confident, almost smug look on your face that has a fire burning in Miguel’s stomach. “you.” you pause to look her up and down with a weakly suppressed laugh. “tried to get at him… and then threw a hissy fit when he rejected you.. right?” she’s obviously embarrassed, staring at her shoes with an angry look. “well he said that i was ugly.”

you’re grabbing your purse from the chair behind her as she whispers that last part. you can barely make out what it says but you’re not even surprised. “and?” is all you say before walking out with Miguel.

in the cab he’s silent, worried that you’re upset until you speak up. “sorry if i was a hit mean back there.” you laugh a bit embarrassed. you go on to say that you know you shouldn’t have been rude, that people should spread positivity and more but he has to cut you off

“that was so hot, baby.” you take in his obviously disheveled, incredibly aroused state and give him a smirk. “yeah?”

you end up jerking him off in the back of the uber 🤪

he’s super whiny, whimpering, and will not stop begging for more

when u guys get married he gets really into choking u cus it shows off his wedding band

omf you’d do something nice for him while he’s sick— like make him soup or something and he’ll get hard

“you- you made this.. for me?” you’re baffled. “yes..? Miguel you’re sick remember? oh god this is way worse than i thought… do you know where you are, baby?” he laughs. “i know where i am! i just— that’s so- that’s so sweet, baby.” you shake your head and give him a spoonful, feeding him like he’s a baby. you’re focused on his mouth, subconsciously making silly faces as you pour the soup into his mouth. he’s watching you the whole time.

after that spoonful you go for another but he takes the bowl and places it on the nightstand. “wha— you don’t like it?” he smiles and shakes his head at your immediate doubt. “i love it, baby” is all he says as he pulls you into his lap, pressing his dick into you and begging you to ride him for all he’s worth

[moosesarecute]

He’s my mate

This is my chaotic mess of a first fanfic. Hope you enjoy.

Not proofread and English is not my first language, so please don’t be too harsh 🫣

//////////////////////////

When Rhysand send Feyre and his sister Y/N on a mission, the last thing he expected was for his dear little sister to be poisoned by something not even Madja had a cure for.

“She looks terrified” Feyre said looking worried.

“You still can’t get through her mental shields?” Madja asked.

Rhys only shook his head. He usually found it comforting that his sister had such a strong mental shield, he knew that no one, not even himself, could get through them unless she wanted them to.

However, now it only worsens his worst nightmare.

“I’m so sorry, Rhys” Feyre said. “I don’t know what happened”.

Before Rhys could answer, the doors to the room opened and Azriel and Cassian rushed in with Mor and Amren not far behind.

Azriel’s face got pale as he saw his mate, sitting on the floor, her violet eyes staring at nothing and breathing heavily. She looked so scared, it broke his heart.

“What happened?” He said. His shadows were already swirling around his mate, carefully stroking her hair.

“Poison” Rhys answered. “We don’t know what the cure is.”

The inner circle had never seen Azriel as worried. Sure, Y/N had been hurt before, way too many times if you asked Rhys, but they had previously always known how to help her.

Azriel moved slowly towards his mate and sat down beside her. His scared hands were shaking as he tried waving his hand in front of her face, but she was still staring far into nothing.

“Maybe if you hold her, Rhysand can get through her mental shields,” Madja suggested. “She would feel safer.”

Slowly, Azriel moved to sit with his mate in between his legs, his arm around her waist, his head resting on her shoulder and his wings covering their bodies.

Y/N breath instantly slowed, but she continued to shake.

“Try now,” Madja said, looking at Rhys.

Rhys took a deep breath, shifted his focus and tried to enter his sisters mind.

He spent some time seeking, but he eventually found a small gap in her shields.

He slipped in, through her wall of purple dust, and immediately found traces from the poison.

Rhys followed the trace and before he knew it, he got pulled into his sister’s worst memories.

***********

“You are not to see him again” your father said. “You are to be married to the heir of Spring, can’t have you messing around with an Illyrian bastard! You disappoint me, Y/N”

You were burning with anger. All your life you wanted nothing more than to get your father’s attention. For him to look at you with pride for all you had accomplished.

You were powerful. You had daemati powers stronger than your brother, you had multiple times beaten Cassian in hand battle and you flew faster than Azriel.

Azriel, the male who had your heart. Your biggest supporter, your wisest mentor, your best friend…your mate.

The male your father was forbidding you to see.

“You can’t mean that!” You cried out. You were fighting tears. You couldn’t lose Azriel, but you knew that if you cried, your father would never take you seriously.

“Oh, but I do.” Your father replied, taunting you. “You’re a female, not only a daughter, but a high lords daughter. If you thought you could choose your own fate, you’re more pathetic than I thought.”

You realized that your father had made up his mind. You only had one more idea that might help you convince your father.

“He’s my mate” you whispered.

You whispered, not because you were afraid, but because you had only said it aloud two times before in the 20 years you had known.

Your father looking at you, staring deep into your soul. “What did you say?”

“Azriel is my mate.” You said louder. You lifted your head and straightened your back. You were proud of your mate and you were going to show it.

Your father started breathing heavily and before you could react, he grabbed you by your shoulders, and pushed you hard into the bookshelf behind you. He held you tightly and you hissed in both fear and pain.

“You are NOT to be mated to a bastard lesser fae. You are going through with this marriage and if you even think the thought about being with the shadowsinger, I will not hesitate in having him killed.”

You father let go of you and you sank to the floor, crying.

“Pathetic” your father said, before he left the room.

**************

You were in the woods, fighting for your life.

The heir of Spring held you down into the ground, cutting your wings.

Your vision were blurry and your eyes heavy.

“Please, don’t harm her” your mother pleaded. “You can do anything you want with me, but please not my daughter.”

The torture had been going on for hours. They would cut, beat and whip your mother and then do the same to you.

You had stopped screaming. Your cries for help became fewer and far in between. It just hurt to much.

“Hold her still.” The heir of Spring told his youngest brother. “I want a souvenir.”

He started cutting your wings from your body. You threw up and then screamed before you threw up again. Your left wing were detached from your back.

“This is taking too long” his father said as his son were close to finishing cutting of your second wing.

The high lord reached for the sword and you have never felt more terror.

“No, please don’t” you pleaded, trying to crawl over to your mother.

The heir of Spring, your betrothed, held your head in place and forced open your eyes as the high lord beheaded your mother.

You emptied your stomach once more before your froze completely.

“We have to leave, finish her.”

The heir of spring grabbed what was left of your right wing and used his foot to keep you down as he ripped the wing from your body.

He then grabbed you and forced you over to your back.

“Let her bleed out.”

All of them winnowed away.

You laid on the ground, trying and failing to move over to your stomach. You were dying, you knew that.

As your eyes closed, you felt a tug in your chest and the last thing you did before you passed out was to tug back with all the force you had to give.

/////////////////////////

Rhys left his sister’s mind and immediately threw up. Feyre was at his side at once.

“What did you see?” Cassian asked.

Rhys only met Azriel’s eyes as he said “she’s reliving her worst memories.”

No one spoke for a while, but everyone could sense Azriel’s growing worry. He held his mate closer and whispered into her ear “you’re safe. You survived. You’re home. We’re mated.”

“I have only read about this in books.” Madja said. “I think the only way to stop the poison from spreading further is to make Y/N understand how happy she truly is. If not, she will die from terror.”

Madja walked over to Rhysand. “What did you see?”

“She wouldn’t want any of us to know that.” Azriel said.

“I know, it is invasive, but it might be the only way to save her.” Rhys said and after a while Azriel nodded in agreement. He would do anything to save his mate.

“I saw our father forbidding her to be with Azriel and…” Rhys stopped and took big breath. “And the attack where Spring…killed our mother.”

Everybody froze as they realized Rhys had just seen his own mother die. Feyre took his hand and squeezed it. A way of saying “I am here.”

Madja was the first to move. This time she walked over to Azriel. “You need to show Rhysand your happiest memories with Y/N so that he can enter her mind and show it to her.”

Even though Rhys was still filled with worry, he had an amusing smile on his face.

His sister and Azriel had been mated for over 450 years. They accepted the bond when she was 56 and he was 63 after two years of being together.

However, they usually kept every detail of their relationship secret. They didn’t even tell anyone that they were mates, they just disappeared for two weeks and showed up mated.

They always say they keep the details to themselves because of their occupations. Both being spies for the Night Court.

The inner circle knew that they wouldn’t share details, but they still always asked. Mor asked about their sex-life (Rhys always left the room when that was the topic), Cassian asked about when they would host family dinner at their house (Y/N would make one of their mother’s favorite recipes) and Rhys just wanted to make sure his sister was treated right.

“You don’t have to worry, Rhys,” you always answered. “Just because we don’t scream it from the House of Wind it doesn’t mean we aren’t happy.”

Azriel spent some time thinking about what memories he was going to show, but he eventually told Rhys he was ready.

“I am showing you,” he said. “You are not going to wander around in there.”

“Of course,” Rhys said and walked over to sit in front of his sister and Azriel.

Azriel’s mind shields were down. Rhys entered his mind and waited for the memories.

————————

I am exhausted, but happy. We won the blood rite. It had been the hardest week of my life so far, but we had won.

My brothers and I were walking towards our home in Windhaven. Before we could reach the entrance, the door flew open and out Y/N came running.

Y/N was Rhys’ 16 year old sister and she looked extremely happy.

“Thank the cauldron you are alright!” She spoke and basically jumped at Rhys.

He just laughed and hugged her.

“She is not happy to see us,” Cassian said to me.

“Of course I am!” She said and moved to hug Cassian. “It is just that Rhysie was the closest.”

“Stop calling me that,” Rhys said.

“Never”

She than moved over to me. And I felt time stop. Her arms embraced me and I hugged her back, but as she pulled back and looked me in my eyes, I felt it.

Snap

Y/N, my best friend’s younger sister, the daughter of the high lord of the Night Court, was my mate. My heart was filled with happiness.

Her eyes were as big as mine and I understood that it had snapped for her too.

“Ehm…” she said. “Dinner is ready inside.”

She then turned around and walked inside.

——————————

“I can’t believe he isn’t here,” Y/N cried into my chest. “It’s my 30th birthday and our father refuses me to see him! It’s not fair!”

I tightened my arms around her. It broke my heart to see her this upset.

Rhys and her had planed this entire day. They were going to fly around the mountains, have a picnic in the woods outside Velaris and then go to Rita’s with Cassian, Mor and I.

But the war was raging and Rhys nor Cassian were allowed to come home.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” I said, but I knew that it didn’t help much.

“I wish I had a normal father so that I could rebel and be awful towards him without it being treason,” she said.

“Well, it’s a good thing you don’t,” I said. “I don’t think his old heart could take it.”

She look at me with her big violet eyes and before I knew it we were both laughing. Probably because of the two empty wine bottles that stood beside us.

“You always know what to say to make me laugh,” she laughed. “That’s probably why we’re mates.”

I froze.

It was 14 years ago the bond snapped, but neither one of us had ever said it aloud…until now.

“Good night,” Y/N said quickly, before she jumped of the roof we sat on and flew away.

The smile that grew on my face lasted for multiple days.

————————

“You only have a couple of hours, so spend it well.”

I nodded and left Rhys’ and Y/N’s mother.

I quickly walked over to Y/N bedroom and knocked on the door.

“Come in,” she sang and I opened the door. “Azriel…you know you can’t be here! If the high lord finds out you-“

“He won’t find out, I asked your mother for help,” I said.

She gaped at me and then smiled her big, beautiful and sweet smile.

“We have to go now though, we only have a few hours.”

“Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise,” I say as we start flying up to the mountains.

The flight didn’t take much time and we were soon at the picnic I had set up earlier.

“Wow,” Y/N said. “It’s beautiful.”

I really wasn’t. It was rushed. I had plucked a few flowers, brought a blanket to sit on and her mother had made us some food.

“I wanted us to at least have a day to pretend,” I said quietly.

“Let’s make it the best day ever,” she whispered back. “No arranged marriage to separate us.”

I took her hand and we sat down to eat.

We talked about what we wanted our life to be like. Life in Velaris, in a small house, at least two children (“No Y/N can grow up without a Rhysie,” you had said), a big garden, many flowers.

“I don’t want to marry the heir of Spring,” she whispered, tears rolling down her cheeks. “I want you.”

I took her hand. My shadows were playing with her hair and speaking to me “mate, upset, make mate happy”

“I want you too, princess,” I replied fighting back tears.

I looked deep into her eyes, took my other hand and tucked her hair behind her ears. “My beautiful mate. I am the luckiest male in all of Prythian even if I can’t have you in this lifetime.”

Now we were both crying.

She then let go of my hand and held up her pinky finger.

“All other lifetimes?” She asked me.

I immediately took her pinky in mine.

“All other lifetimes.”

Two small identical tattoos appeared round our pinky fingers.

I moved closer to her and she did the same. We both spend some time looking at each other, still crying, before we leaned into each other and our lips met.

It started soft and cute before it grew hungrier. We were both full on sobbing at the time I pulled away.

“Are you sure?” I asked, hoping she would say yes. I waited for her answer.

“I’ve never been more sure about anything in my entire life,” she answered and kissed me.

——————————

“I can sleep on the floor,” I said.

We were on a mission on the continent undercover as mates. Pretending to be mates weren’t hard since we were mates, but Rhys didn’t know that.

“Ha, you’re funny,” Y/N said. “Either we share the bed or we both sleep on the floor.”

We were trying to find out if the rumors we heard about a war starting on the continent were true. To our relief, it seemed like it only was a rumor and nothing more.

Since we were undercover as newly mated we had gotten a room with only one bed.

“We’ll take the bed then,” I decided. “Can’t have you hurting your back.”

Y/N froze and looked at me. “How did you know about my back pain?”

Shit

“I…ehmmm…”

She looked at me with wary eyes. “Have you been spying on me?”

“Of course not,” I said. “I just…feel it sometimes.”

She looked like she had seen a ghost. “I didn’t realize. I’m sorry, Azriel. I should have thought about that.”

She looked at me, but didn’t meet my eyes.

As mates, I sometimes felt the same emotions or feelings as she did. And I had realized that after the attack on her and her mother ten years ago, she had been dealing with back pain.

“It that why it always magically appears a bottle of pain relief outside my door on the bad days?” Y/N asked me, now looking directly into my eyes and soul.

“I might have had something to do with that, yes.”

She nodded as a reply.

That was the end of the conversation. We prepared for bed. After we both had gotten into the bed, her on the left side, me on the right with my wings hanging out in the side of the bed, she started crying.

“I’m sorry for shutting you out all these years,” she cried.

I didn’t know what to say or do. I just laid completely still and looked at her.

Slowly, my shadows moved towards her. One of them dried her tears while two others played with her hair. I tried to stop them and get them back to me, but they didn’t listen. “Mate, upset, have to make mate happy.” they said on repeat.

“I didn’t think you could even want me anymore,” she continued. “I would understand if you didn’t, of course. I’m not who I just to be, I’m not myself. But then Rhys forced me to start going on missions again last year and I realized how much I missed having my family around. I felt more alone than ever. And when I started going to family dinners and Rhys told me how happy you were, I realized I hadn’t thought about what you were feeling through all of this. I completely ignored you, left you and you probably felt and still feel so betrayed. I…I’m so sorry, Az.”

I was still frozen. How could she think that was how I felt? I never felt betrayed by her, thought she felt betrayed by me. I’m her mate for cauldrons sake! And I almost let her die. She lost her wings, she would never fly again. I was too late to save her wings.

“Say something, master. Make mate happy. You can make mate happy.” My shadows almost screamed in my ears.

“I…,” I started to speak but had to stop. I needed to get this right. “I never felt betrayed by you not being the same you as you were before the attack, Y/N. You needed time to heal. We could have helped you to get better, but we knew that if we forced ourselves into your life, you would shut us out and it would all become worse. You are way too stubborn for that.” We both chuckled. “You have grown. You’re not longer just a high lord’s daughter who had to do everything your father said, you’re Y/N. You’re Y/N, the female that always asks what’s for dessert even before we have started to eat dinner. You’re Y/N, who always do everything you can to annoy your brothers. You’re Y/N, you’re always brutally honest and we love you for it. I love you for it.

“If you hadn’t had time for yourself, you wouldn’t have time to figure out that you don’t like the color orange, or that you wanted to dye your hair purple streaks, or that you like training in the morning so that you can enjoy your book at night.

“As long as I’m allowed to be in your life now, I’m happy. Even if we’re just friends or family. I just need you to be yourself. It’s the Y/N you’re now that we love.”

Her mouth was wide open. Then it closed before she opened it again.

“I never think I’ve heard you say that much before.” She said with a small laugh.

“I don’t think I have ever said that much before.”

“I want you in my life,” she said. “I have loved pretending to be your mate. I…I don’t want to pretend that you’re mine, I want you to be mine.”

Before I even could react, my shadows were swirling around us, pushing us closer to one another until our lips were only millimeters apart.

“Can I kiss you?” she asked.

I kissed her as an answer. My heart had never felt so full of love.

——————————

It had been a long day with meetings in the court of nightmares. I had my usual place, standing against the wall and making sure no one was lurking around.

My mate had left her usual place, standing beside her brother, and was walking over to me.

“The high lord will soon be going home,” she told me, but she wasn’t looking at me. She was looking around the room, still very much playing the role as the scary night court princess.

I then felt her soft touch on my mental shields, asking for access. I let her in.

“I was planing on making an apple pie this weekend, at the cabin,” she told me. Her voice was shaky. She was nervous. “Or if you want something else I can make something else. Or if you don’t want nothing at all we can just-“

“Apple pie would be great,” I answer, my voice almost as shaky as hers.

“Good,” she said and left my mind.

She gave me I small smile before she walked back to her place beside her brother.

“I love my mate,” was all I was able to think about.

—————————

“And then he used his shadows to make me fall over!” Cassian explained. “Totally unfair.”

“It seems like you have had a rough day, Cass. Did you miss your midday nap?” Mor asked him.

She then looked at me and lifted her wine glass “cheers to that.”

I lifted my glass and held it up to my lips as I felt it.

It couldn’t be.

I wouldn’t believe it.

But then I felt it again. A tug.

I lowered my glass.

“Everything okey, brother?” Cassian looked concerned.

Another tug and then a soft touch to my mental shield had me gasping.

My heart was going crazy.

I lowered my mental shields.

“You could at least have cleaned the place,” my mate’s voice sang in my head.

I let the glass fall to the floor and before my brother could react I ran to the balcony and started flying towards my mate and I’s shared house.

I hadn’t been there in 50 years. Ever since my mate and Rhys had been under the mountain, I hadn’t been able to even look at our house. Our small cottage with just enough space for the two of us. And a spare room for Cassian, of course.

The flight only took 30 seconds, but it was the longest 30 seconds of my life. I tried not to get my hopes up. What if she wasn’t actually there?

I landed in your garden and ran towards an open front door.

I stopped, too scared to go inside. What if I only imagined it all.

My shadows went crazy around me, pulling both my hands and legs. “Mate, home, mate, home”.

Tears ran down my face as I walked through the door.

Standing in the middle of the room was my beautiful mate. She was way too thin, her hair was a mess and she started sobbing as she saw me.

Before I could reach her she fell to her knees. I fell to my knees in front of her and embraced her together with my shadows.

“You’re home,” I cried.

“I’m home,” she whispered into my chest.

——————————

“You’re staring,” Y/N said into my head.

We had just sat down to eat dinner. Our entire family was here and we had just met Feyre.

“I’m sorry that I like to look at my wife,” I answered. “You look beautiful.”

I took my her plate and filled it with food.

“It’s cute that you still feed me,” Y/N spoke. “I like it, husband.”

“Should we tell them?” I asked.

“Maybe not overwhelm Feyre. I think Mor and Cassian is going to freak out when they find out we didn’t invite them to our wedding.”

“But we didn’t invite anyone.”

The truth was that they on a whim had eloped, just over an hour ago.

“What are you talking about you two lovebirds?” Mor asked.

“Nothing,” both of us said.

Y/N quickly shifted the conversation by asking “Soooo, what’s for dessert.”

Everybody laughed.

////////////////////

Rhys left Azriel’s mind. Both males were crying.

“I had no clue you were that young.” Rhys said. “And that you fought so hard for it.”

Azriel just nodded and tightened his arms around his mate. Y/N was now shaking even worse than before. She looked extremely pale and exhausted. “Just get her back to me, I’ll tell our entire story from start to now, as long as you get her back to me.”

Rhys saw the desperate look on his brother’s face and hurried to enter his sister’s mind.

He was met with a wall of terror, not even one trace of his sister’s normal calm mind. He began working, pushing memory after memory towards the wall and slowly but surely watched it disappear.

Then he was forcefully pulled out of her mind.

“You’re okay, breathe, breathe, good girl,” Azriel spoke.

Y/N was now on her hands and knees, still panting and shaking, but she was moving. She had thrown up, but Rhys removed it with magic. Azriel held a hand on her back and held her hair.

He looked extremely relieved.

“Are you okey?” Rhys asked.

Y/N met his worried gaze and moved over to him.

“I’m sorry you had to see that, Rhysie.”

Rhys didn’t waste a second embracing his sister.

The rest of the inner circle slowly left the room, they understood that the siblings needed some time alone.

But, of course, all of Azriel’s shadows stayed to make sure their mate was alright.

———————

Azriel was waiting outside the room. He knew Y/N was alright and that she would come get him when she’s ready, but he just wanted to hold her and never let go.

“Well, well brother,” Cassian said with a smug smile.

“What?” He asked.

“You said you’d tell the entire story of your relationship. So I figured you could start now.”

The doors to the room opened and out walked Y/N and Rhys.

“Why not start explaining that your bond snapped when Y/N was just a teen and that you have been married for multiple years, hmm?” Rhys said and you punched him in the arm.

“WHAT?” Cassian and Mor yelled.

A quick look was shared between Azriel and Y/N before both of them took off running and before the others could react, they had winnowed away.

[skyrigel]

I’m so glad you take requests for Anthony bridgerton. I’ve been in the mood to read angst with happy endings for so looong😫 so could I request Anthony bridgerton x wife angst where they have an argument/fight because he is stressed so he takes his anger out on her so she ends up giving him the silent treatment while he basically begs for her forgiveness

Say nothing then || A.B

Pairing: Anthony bridgerton x wife!reader

Warning: hurt/angst, superstitious thoughts, Anthony doesn't think he could outlive his father. ( Happy ending and little comfort, i promise.)

Rigel's note 🪩 : Thankyou so much for requesting, absolutely heart breaking to write this one, I took inspo from book, Anthony denying love because he saw his mother going in depression when his father died and taylor swift's lyric I said, "I love you" (I said, "I love you") You say nothin' back . I hope i did justice with this one sweetheart <3

That's the way you loved Anthony, truly and completely and sometimes it was so hard to keep it in, it slipped through your lips everytime you kissed him. Pressing down in his skin and tickling his heart that was yours.

It gazed at him, dusk or dawn, ever so lovely, it scribbled down in your ink, leaving your love trailing down behind him.

When Anthony told you he would give you anything, you believed him, when he said he just wouldn't love you, you didn't.

That's not how it goes, perhaps you were naive and blinded but that, it was love that glinted in his eyes everytime he looked at you. When he would smile and reveal the book you yearned to read, hidden behind his back. When he danced more than any husband did with his wife so you didn't believe when Anthony said he wouldn't love you, that was only a matter of time.

However, there's difference between wouldn't and couldn't, Anthony was scared to love, for he knew it's a force and he would be damned if you were to be left heartbroken just like his mother, he would curse himself if he didn't wake when you would call out for him when he was dea Because Anthony was sure, he bloody knew he wouldn't be able to live past his father and in no universe he would want to see you begging, crying and slowly drifting away. Lost and sad, no.

So he wouldn't love you and he would save you from the greater grief, of getting left behind while the other is gone.

But love became too much sometimes, held too much of your heart and body and soul that it demanded to fly and then one such night, all the chains tattered and it was bleeding raw and fresh—

" I love you." You said, like you did every passing moment but oops you had said it now, in words and sound as Anthony kissed the back of your ear, it was the first time the words ever experienced by the nature, no doubt you had said it with every kiss, every touch, every gesture but this was new.

Anthony freezed above you, hands dropping whatever mischief they had in tow.

He pulled away from you in a blink of your eye and it took you a moment to realise what went wrong.

" Anthony ? Are you..you are okay honey ? " You whsipered, he didn't look at you, staring at his hands as he could see a story you couldn't.

" I.. Anthony ? " You said again because it scared you, Anthony wasn't the one to look away, all the things that scared you was nothing against the terror, the sinking gut wrenching feeling you felt when Anthony fliched at your touch and you shivered in ache. No, don't leave me. Please, please.

It was another pain to see Anthony like a stranger, like he didn't know you. He would, he promised he would know you anywhere but this, it was threatening.

" What did you say ? " You almost thought it was the voices in your head, the agony that coated the words could never be from him.

Never to you, he was drifting away with each heavy moment and the person who was at the edge of your bed, in your shared chamber, smelling like you, wasn't the person you knew.

" Anthony—" you tried, you couldn't help the choking of your throat as those eyes were fuming in rage, maybe there was love, hiding somewhere but you couldn't find it and it broke your heart. Anthony couldn't be right.

" You don't mean that ! " He was screaming, his whole body shaking as his fist slammed the mattress in fit of rage.

A strangled hiccup escaped your throat when Anthony gripped your shoulder, hard but not bruising, like he wanted to shake you out of this feeling. He couldn't.

" You don't understand, love, love, love—" he almost cried, his nose reddening, his whole face was burning.

" —its stupid ! Means nothing, does nothing, it takes away everything..." His voice tore down deep inside you, like breaking membranes and dropping vases, it could never be the same.

" You don't understand... don't say it ! You stupid woman ! " He bellowed when you worked your jaw to say something, Don't say it, I love you—

I love you, please, please, let me love you—

But just as he said it, it wasn't Anthony, it was like your mama reminding you how stupid you were, stupid, stupid girl, she would say.

Stupid woman, he had said and everything else was slowly fading, it was starting to slow down, like watching it from away, in different bodies, like you were the doorknob or the painting on the wall because you were crumbling under his touch.

Anthony mere few inches away and you wondered what he would do if you kissed him just then, would he stop this torment?

Would he pull away, back then he didn't when they were your silent ' I love you's ' instead he drank them in, tasted your love raw and wild and now refused them in sound and wave.

" What should I say Anthony ? " You were sure they never made it out, lost somewhere in void, perhaps still coiling around your cartilage but the shocked silence that echoed between the little space between you reminded you how words crawled out after all. Even those meant to be quiet. I love you.

" Say nothing then." His voice is so small that barely register and before you could, he's inhaling large gulps of air, drifting back and back and his eyes not quite meeting yours until he turned his back to you.

He was gone for the night.

Say nothing then.

He wasn't there for the breakfast.

Say nothing then.

He wasn't there the next day.

Say nothing then.

And the day next, and one that followed—

Until you reasiled you haven't said anything in days, it wasn't so bad afterall, it was, very, very bad and lonely but it was okay, as long as Anthony would come back, it should be.

It was very quiet when Anthony stumbled back, his steps shaking and vision dizzy.

He was terribly pissed. You turned the page you only half read and focused hard on the words, Anthony stripped his clothes as he climbed the bed next to you, in an attempt to kiss your forehead like he did every night.

He wasn't there to do it for days and you didn't sleep, it could surely go on, you pulled away.

Something hurt flashed through his eyes and he looked down at the sheets, chest heaving with untaken breaths.

" Good night Viscountess." He whsipered softly and You said nothing back.

Say nothing then.

You weren't sure how you did it but you managed to untangle yourself from Anthony by dawn, you slept for the first time in days and it was over with a series of dreams, each ended with you saying I love you and Anthony saying nothing back.

Silence was louder than words, it was also harsher than words.

Watching Anthony sleep was like playing we're good with him , you weren't sure if you could cry anymore than you had already.

It felt like nothing happened and it could go back to be like before, you could press your love to his skin and it wouldn't burn and leave scars.

But you didn't want that, that was something it had became unbearable, when love bled through you, it was unstoppable and you realised how you will love him enough to make it up for both of you but he wouldn't let you. He wouldn't love you either.

The hurt was visible when his hand trembled, he tried hard to catch your eye, you focused at the honey, so sweet. Anthony didn't know but it hurt you all the same. How much burden you felt in your bones when you couldn't tell him all the things you woke up with, to tell him about your dreams — nightmares now, to tell him that you hate him so much, to kiss him until he couldn't breathe and tear everything wrenched out of him, but you couldn't.

All the more heartache when Anthony brought out the third part of your beloved novel and when the smile never came on your lips, only tears that blurred your gaze so much that you turned away from him, Anthony was shattered.

It was the second day, you hadn't said anything at all, inside screaming didn't count as one. You watched ahead as the far, far away trace of green rolling grass from your balcony. It occurred to you how horizon was made, where earth met the sky and here you were, with souls of something same, whatever they were made of, and yet you and Anthony couldn't mingle.

" Isn't it beautiful ? " He looked at you like you would answer him, he hoped too much.

Say nothing then—

" Huh.." he tried to smile, it was so small.

You stared ahead because looking at Anthony only added salt to your wound, it was aggravating.

It was after some slipped moments when he spoke in a strained small voice, hurt and broken and it shivered you.

" I was so scared...still am," he said and his voice broke, a muffled cry escaped him and you looked at him, really. You wanted to wrap your arms around him and shush away every cry, every pain, every sadness.

Say nothing—

" I thought...I thought i could just keep it away, keep you safe..from me, from love—" and he was crying, not sobbing, not whimpering but crying as big warm tears steamed down his face and he dropped to his knees in front of you, hands reaching for you like moth reaching flame and you took him, held him.

Say—

" I..I..I thought.. could—" he sniffed," couldn't, i can't pretend anymore, I don't want to leave you in pain... don't want to leave you in hurt... can't can't can't keep it in." He cried more and more and more matter how much you wiped his tears, but more fell and it was then you realised, they were yours. You were crying too.

" I am sorry, I am so, so sorry for ever hurting your my sweet love—" he swallowed hard.

" Anthony.. it's okay.. it's alright." You assured him, maybe you and him could go with your love only pressed between silence and gestures and eyes and it would be enough.

But you couldn't watch him break, wouldn't and couldn't.

" I love you." He said, voice not shaking, eyes sincere behind the gleaming tears, " I love you, always had, always would." He brought your knuckles to kiss, love pressing down in your skin. It was golden in the last rays of sun.

" Anthony you don't have to say it." You understood, atleast you did. He shaked his head and smiled through his wet face.

" No, no...let me, " he exclaimed, " I love you my baby, my lady." He smiled and it reached his eyes, you giggled softly when he pressed open mouthed kisses on your hands.

" I love you, I love you and I love you." He said, " I am a fool for ever denying it, I am a fool for you my Viscountess." He inhaled, breathing after a very long time.

" I am sorry, I love you so much baby." His lip trembled and you wanted to steady them so bad.

" I love you too Anthony, truly and completely." You kissed his forehead and he melted in your touch, and you didn't know how much time ticked away with loud and whispered and blessed I love you's and that's the way he loved you, truly and completely.

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

Rigel's note 🪩 ( again) : I hope this was good, I am such a angst sucker myself<3 request through my ask box :) and can you reblog ? Please, please.

[reidmarieprentiss]

Heyyy so this is very specific 😅

Remember the fisher king part 2 episode when Spencer escapes the bomb? So imagine the bomb part happened in a different case (because I need Emily and Dave in) and he had to go to the hospital because of some wounds (he’s really fine but the team insisted) So they go to the hospital.

They could see Spencer was nervous looking around like he was scared, Morgan, JJ and Emily just thought it was the germaphobic thing. While Hotch and Dave (the only ones who knew) already had a bet on: how long will it take to Spencer’s partner, a doctor at the hospital they’re in, showed up screaming at Spencer for risking his life (again).

And guess what happens? They show up with steam coming out of her ears. Ready to scold Spencer. They ask him what happened and he keep it simple “I just got fell” and she turns to hotch and Dave “is that true” you choose who ditches on Spencer. While all of that happens JJ Emily and Morgan are like “wtf is going on???? “Reid has a partner???!”

I told you it was specific 😭

Love Doctor

Pairing: Spencer Reid x gn!reader

Category: fluff

Warnings/Includes: mentions of a bomb

Word count: 712

a/n: this was so cute i love this ask!!!

main masterlist

As the team walks into the hospital, Spencer tries to hide the unease coursing through him. The incident with the bomb was behind them, but his nerves were anything but settled. He knew what was coming, and it wasn’t just the doctors poking and prodding at him. Morgan, JJ, and Emily exchange glances, assuming Spencer’s discomfort is due to his well-known aversion to hospitals and germs.

“You’re gonna be fine, pretty boy,” Morgan says, patting Spencer on the shoulder. “Just a few scratches, and you’ll be out of here in no time.”

“Yeah, Spence, it’s not like they’re gonna make you stay the night or anything,” JJ adds with a reassuring smile.

Emily nods, her tone light as she says, “You’ll be out of here before you know it, probably before they can even make you wear one of those hospital gowns.”

Spencer forces a tight smile, his eyes darting nervously around the busy hospital hallway. His heart races, not because of the minor injuries he sustained but because he knows who works here. Hotch and Rossi, walking a few paces ahead, exchange a knowing look. They’ve both seen this play out before, and although they’d never admit it, they’re both wondering how long it will take for the inevitable confrontation to occur.

Just as Spencer is about to sit down on one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs, he hears a familiar voice, sharp and filled with exasperation.

“Spencer Reid!”

The sound of his full name, spoken with that particular tone, makes Spencer cringe. He turns slowly, already bracing himself for the storm about to hit. You, his partner, a doctor at the hospital, storms toward him, your face a mixture of relief and fury. The rest of the team watches in shock as you approach, eyes blazing with anger.

“What were you thinking?” you demand, not bothering to lower your voice. “Do you have any idea how dangerous that was? You could’ve—” You stop yourself, taking a deep breath, clearly trying to calm down but failing spectacularly.

Spencer rubs the back of his neck, looking sheepish. “I, uh… I just fell.”

You narrow your eyes, turning their attention to Hotch and Rossi, who are both standing with their arms crossed, attempting (and failing) to hide their amusement. “Is that true? Did he just fall?”

Rossi, not missing a beat, smirks and says, “I’d say he more or less threw himself into harm’s way, but ‘falling’ works too.”

Hotch, with a slight nod, adds, “There might have been a bomb involved.”

Your eyes flash with irritation as you look back at Spencer. “A bomb? You said you fell!”

Spencer shrinks a little under your gaze. “Well, I did fall… after the bomb went off.”

You look like you’re about to explode, but instead, you take another deep breath and pinch the bridge of your nose. “Spencer…”

Meanwhile, Morgan, JJ, and Emily are standing off to the side, their jaws practically on the floor. JJ is the first to speak, her voice low with shock. “Wait… Reid has a partner? A partner who’s a doctor?”

Emily, eyes wide, whispers back, “And they’re yelling at him… like he’s a kid caught sneaking out of the house.”

Morgan, unable to contain his amusement, chuckles. “This just got interesting.”

You turn back to Spencer, your voice softer now but still firm. “You’re coming home with me after this, and we’re going to have a serious talk about you risking your life like this. Again.”

Spencer nods quickly, knowing better than to argue. “Yes, my love.”

As you usher Spencer towards the examination room, Morgan, JJ, and Emily exchange looks of bewilderment and amusement. Hotch and Rossi follow at a distance, satisfied with how things have unfolded.

Emily, still stunned, leans over to Morgan. “I think we just met the one person who can actually scare Reid.”

Morgan grins. “I think you’re right.”

JJ, shaking her head in disbelief, murmurs, “I didn’t even know he was dating someone…”

As they all watch Spencer disappear into the examination room with his partner, a new wave of curiosity and respect for their genius colleague washes over them. They’ve just witnessed a side of Spencer Reid they never knew existed, and none of them are sure how to process it.

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

tag list <333 @dirtytissuebox @yokaimoon @khxna @noelliece @dreamsarebig @sleepey-looney @cocobean16 @placidus @criminalmindssworld @lilu842 @greatoperawombategg @charismatic-writer @fxoxo @hearts4spensco @furrybouquettrash @kathrynlakestone @chaneladdicted @time-himself @mentallyunwellsposts @sapph1re @idefktbh17 @gilwm @reggieswriter @loumouse @spencerreidsreads @i-live-in-spite @fanfic-viewer @bootylovers44 @atheniandrinkscoffee @niktwazny303

[jnkgrnde]

— dating hc’s, clarisse la rue, pjo

summary — dating hc’s w pookie

pairings — clarisse la rue x black!fem!reader (daughter of apollo)

authors note — some of this is inspired by a clarisse fanfic i read the other day w a child of apollo reader ☝🏾

⭑ alr first things first y’all r the definition of black cat gf + golden retriever gf WALK W ME!

⭑ like when u first got to camp clarisse was v.. she thought u were different but in a good way.

⭑ she expected u to act like how an apollo kid would except u were like 5x sunshinier and smilier.

⭑ when u decided to hang out w her more often after u arrived people were starting to question things

⭑ like how clarisse wasn’t throwing you in the lake

⭑ the only reason she hadn’t done that yet was because she was starting to like having you around, even if she didn’t act like it

⭑ you’d talk to her about your day, spar w her, etc etc

⭑ that was up until the night you realized you liked her more than friends

⭑ you were pacing around your cabin, biting your nails anxiously; when you got to camp, you decided to read about your father, and that included all of his tragedies family wise and love wise.

⭑ you didn’t want to continue that tradition, so you came down to the decision of avoiding clarisse entirely.

⭑ it started becoming noticeable after about two or three days.

⭑ clarisse was more irritable, and people noticed you weren’t around her as much. a lot of the time you’d write in your journal about it.

⭑ whenever you were at the archery range, you’d up and leave as soon as you saw clarisse.

⭑ she wasn’t happy about this

⭑ this had been going on for what felt like forever; clarisse trying to subtly look for you, and whenever she found you you always managed to leave as soon as she was approaching.

⭑ she would’ve never admitted this to anybody, but she missed you. how you would talk non stop about your day and always ask how hers was going. she missed the way you would get shy whenever she called you sunshine because of your descent.

⭑ she ended up having enough when she called out for you at the archery range and you blatantly ignored her, which is how you two got where you are right now

“y/n!”

you cursed to yourself as you started walking the opposite direction, not even bothering to put your bow down.

she didn’t let you go this time, running up to you to turn you around. you had a slight look of anger and fear on your face, and it hurt clarisse to see you look at her like everyone else does.

“why are you avoiding me?” you avoided her eyes. you weren’t really prepared for what would’ve happened when or if she decided to approach you. “is there something you wanted to tell me? any explanation? at all?” she persisted. “i just- it’s hard to talk about, clarisse.” clarisse frowned. you almost never used her full name. “it’s just me, sunshine. just you and me.”

you breathed deep to calm your aching heart. “i like you.”

clarisse stood dumbfounded. “what?” “i have a crush on you, and i was scared to tell you because of my dad and his history with love. i didn’t want to possibly get you killed all because i loved you.” clarisse looked at you for a moment then put her lips with yours.

her hand found your waist as you gripped her forearm. why and since when was she a good kisser? it was getting heated so you pulled away. “why did you do that?” you asked her breathlessly. “we have more of a chance of dying solely because we’re demigods. if i have to die early, i’d rather die knowing me and you were together through everything.” you nodded. “okay.” you whispered out.

“okay?” she repeated. she looked at you with so much love held in her eyes. “okay.” you started grinning.

⭑ let me wrap this up before it gets too long lmao

⭑ to reiterate what i said earlier, yall are the definition of black cat gf + golden retriever gf

⭑ whether its in capture the flag or just strolling around the campgrounds, clarisse is very protective of you

⭑ i’d like to believe she would steal some of ur lotion n stuff cs u got GOOD stuff don’t ask me how i know

⭑ you’d also help eachother out w ur hair like braiding them for games etc etc

⭑ she loved ur voice btw. like u had a naturally pretty voice bc of ur dad, so she’d love to hear u talk. bonus points if ur one of those ppl who sing peoples names instead of js saying them normally

⭑ it took her a minute to get used to it, but atp she does not care about pda; she’s showing u off whether u like it or not

⭑ okay thats it clarisse is my girlfriend #confirmed

[thestarsarebrightertonight]

oh baby its blue flame // tom riddle x fem reader

"will-o the-wisp, babe oh baby its blue flame!"

playlist : blue flame - lesserafim

summary : tom is cold and closed off , theres something off about him and most people know that. so why are you so drawn to him like a moth to the flame?

ravenclaw reader , use of y/n , tom is nicer, AU he isnt voldemort or evil LMAO

masterlist

"youre staring again. even a blind man could see youre staring." your best friend cassandera stated blankly , sat next to you in potions and watching you stare dreamily at a very focused tom riddle.

"i cant help it! hes just so handsome and interesting dont you think?" you whispered back , trying not to gain the attention of mindlessly waffling slughorn.

"handsome? 100%. interesting? more like terrifying!" she whispered back.

you rolled your eyes at this , "i dont get why everyone is so scared of him , hes beautiful and polite."

"yeah well the devil was once beautiful too," she mumbled in dissaproval as you gasped dramatically.

"you did not just compare him to the devil!" you gaped in suprise and slight amusement.

"he seemed pretty devilish when he took away house points because we were in the corridors one minute after cerfew!!" she whisper shouted , reliving the anger she felt when a uninterested tom riddle took away 10 points each from us.

"that was kinda mean of him," you nodded in quiet contemplation.

"oh dont act like you were upset- you admired him and said 'yes tom' like a lovesick puppy!" she scoffed.

"its not my fault the darkness of the corridor made his complexion a little more angelic than usual!" you shrugged as you both gigged.

"miss y/l/n , question 4?" slughorn asked , snapping you back into the harsh reality that you were currently meant to be doing potions.

"huh? oh uhh...well....pheonix feather?" you asked timidly as the whole class laughed only to be shushed by slughorn who held a disapproving look.

"maybe you would know the question if you werent so focussed on talking to miss cassandera." he shook his head as you sheepishly apoligised ,"mr riddle do you have a question?"

you eyes shot to tom who had his hand up , awaiting slughorns attention.

"amortentia," he stated simply as slughorn nodded , stating he was correct. you watched tom for a second longer , startled when his eyes looked at you , a visible smirk on his lips.

you widened your eyes in suprise and looked away quickly , startled and nervous.

"please tell me you saw that." you said sternly , staring forward at nothing as cassandera who did the same nodded with an equally shocked face.

"he smirked." she stated as you nodded.

"and it was hot."

---

later that day you sat on a stone bench , reading with cassandera beside you doing the same thing, until you were interrupted by a shadow blocking the sun that shone on you just seconds before.

groaning in frustration you look up to see who had blocked your light , completely paralysed in shock to see tom riddle looking down at you.

"i thought ravenclaws were smart. however you dont seem to even have the capacity of focusing in lesson." he said so coldy you felt a chill run down your spine.

"what? i...i just got distracted." you stuttered , flustered by his presence and rudeness.

"by me." he stated simply making a bright blush heat up your cheeks , "youd be suprised how easy it is to hear someone sat two rows behind you in a relitively silent classroom."

your whole body burned in embrassament as cassandera pretended to be interested in the floor , secretly listening to the conversation you had with tom.

"oh merlin i- im so sorry i-" you stuttered , not even wanting to make eye contact.

"your confidence was endearing." he again said so blankly , "itd be a shame if i found you in the corridor after cerfew tonight, no? id have to deduct points no doubt."

you were shocked by his flirting? what in the world is happening.

"yeah itd be a shame, i do have a lot of homework to catch up with at the library , i worry it could run over cerfew," you finally looked back up and regained your lost confidence.

he looked down , a faint smirk on his face , "funny thing i cover the librarys corridor. see you then."

he then walked away again , leaving the courtyard and disappearing into the crowds , leaving you to gape after the ghost of his presence.

"i never thought that man would be capable of flirting. never." cassandera muttered in pure shock , both of your jaws on the floor.

"i need to go to the library." you said throwing the book you held and grabbing your satchel in a hurry before walking away.

"hell yeah you do , run bitch!" cassandera happily cheered for you from the bench.