#Come morning light au

[tcmecho]

Avian/wing AU brainrot currently so HERE HAVE THIS FOR ALL YOUR BIRD PEOPLE NEEDS!!

(Tag me in anything you make with this! I love seeing bird people content!!)

[thegreatyin]

the best thing about Shadowbringers world is that slow dawning realization as you explore it

that ultimately, the entirety of Norvrandt, As You See It Now, is the end result of a long series of dominoes falling

that started with the right person getting on the right Chocobo cart at the right time.

my favorite thing about shadowbringers is and will forever always be that it's pretty much just the aftermath of a jrpg plot in of itself. like every single member of ardbert's crew had their own personal journeys and backstory and calls to adventure and he slowly collected them along the way like a classical rpg story and everything. there was something there, once. you could have (and were) that exact same person in that exact same situation, once. ardbert did literally everything right and still it came to this etc etc

[mydetheturk]

Chapters: 2/? Fandom: Trigun Stampede (Anime 2023), Trigun (Anime & Manga 1995-2008) Rating: Mature Warnings: Major Character Death Relationships: Meryl Stryfe/Vash the Stampede/Nicholas D. Wolfwood, Vash the Stampede & Nicholas D. Wolfwood, Meryl Stryfe/Nicholas D. Wolfwood Characters: Nicholas D. Wolfwood, Vash the Stampede (Trigun), Chapel the Evergreen (Trigun), Livio the Double Fang (Trigun), Razlo the Tri-Punisher of Death (Trigun), Meryl Stryfe Additional Tags: Established Relationship, Near Death Experiences, Suicidal Ideation, Trigun Maximum Volume 10: Wolfwood, Trigun Maximum Spoilers, Dissociation, Blood and Violence, Canonical Character Death, Not Really Character Death, No Beta We Die Like Rem, Post Trigun, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Men Crying, Crying, Wolfwood's Going Thru It, Sorry Not Sorry Series: Part 3 of Come Morning Light, You and I'll Be Safe and Sound Summary:

Oh god I feel so alive

You crack all the ampules of serum you have on you at the same time. You're not making this out alive. (You make it out alive?)

it’s late but have the second chapter of a fic that wasn’t supposed to HAVE a second chapter much less become a multi-chap fic

[gomzdrawfr]

[oc rambles - AU]

note: this is a GhostRaven AU :3 naming it Ethereal AU for now

I was struck with inspiration after finding art from this account, specifically this, this, this and that

so here's a short opening, reviewed by my friend (because the initial draft was so messy KSJHGKAH i swear it's hard trying to write "darkness" with other meaning especially when synonyms have been used up, I gave up in the end and just repeated it so, soRRY ABOUT THAT LMAO)

ps: divider by cafekitsune from here

The realm is a vast, infinite sea of shadow and darkness, where light dares not intrude, and the boundaries between reality and nightmare blur into a seamless haze.

The air is thick and heavy, oppressive and unnerving, and the ground—if it can be called that—has a mind of its own. A shifting, formless mass, it is sometimes solid, other times intangible, with shadowy tendrils that coil and twist around souls who have wandered too far into the darkness.

It feeds on curiosity, which quickly turns to fear and screams—swallowing these poor souls and losing them to the void. 

In this realm, time and space lose all meaning; with no daylight, days, years, and lifetimes dissolve into the inky black.

Yet, a solitary figure appears in the boundless expanse of the abyss.

An immortal wanderer, whose presence is a stark contrast to the surrounding gloom, steps into the realm of the God of Darkness. The heels she wears clank against the shifting ground, echoing into the void like raindrops against marble, a sound so out of place yet entirely fitting in the silence that reigns.

A cascade of pure white adorned with crystals drags along the floor, white gems shaped like moons and stars shimmering faintly on her dress, casting a glow around her. Her skin, as pale as freshly fallen snow, absorbs the darkness and reflects it back gently, with only her black hair blending seamlessly into the void.

It is as if she were a fragment of the cosmos themselves.

The sentient shadows and the realm itself stir at her presence, ever-watchful and wary.

Yet, they recognize something in this immortal that is different from the countless souls they have consumed—an understanding. But they also sense the heavy weight she carries, a deep melancholy and sadness that mingled with her soul, the unshed tears of a thousand sorrows buried deep within her soul, clinging onto it stubbornly. 

Yet her heart, though broken and faint, still beats with unforgotten kindness. 

They welcome her, parting the land and flowing around her ankles like streams of water, uncharacteristically gentle, curious, and almost reverent.

The realm’s chilling cold, which would freeze the marrow of any mortal, is a comfort to Eira. Here in the dark and cold, she feels at peace, as if the land of darkness is more familiar to her than the world she left behind.

Nothing is truly terrifying or difficult in her eyes; everything, even the unknown and the darkness, simply needs to be understood.

And understand it, she does.

She moves slowly, not aimlessly, but with purpose, until her hand is outstretched into the perpetual darkness.

The shadows thicken around her as a cold wind brushes past her right shoulder, something circling her slowly—predatory yet intimate, moving through her fabric and hair, blotches of black staining the whites temporarily before dissolving away, as if to not stain her.

Then comes the sensation of a cloak—heavy, misty—gliding over her left shoulder.

A faintly shaped form reaches out and clasps her outstretched hand. The touch is cold, yet familiar. In the darkness, a faint shape of a skull with a swirl of black smoke becomes visible, a pair of eyes burning with an otherworldly light, ashes and flickers of white making their presence known.

The void around her rumbles.

"Ghost," she greets kindly, her voice gentle and warm, seeping into the darkness.

A deep, resonant reply comes.

"Eira."

extra notes:

Idk what Eira is yet, she's not a Goddess, I do have some idea where she was once human and was bestowed the gift of immortality (against her will? maybe) and thread along these planes of existence, wandering around slowly

this AU is just a concept, it doesn't strictly follow any mythology like Greek or Norse (frankly idk much about them besides Zeus LOL)

BUT, Ghost is a direct reference to Erebus or Erebos, which is a deity that embodies the darkness

if im not mistaken he's paired with Nyx, which is a goddess of night, but again- I changed the story here and Eira's not a goddess

But I did make her have some kind of linkage to stars and moons, because I uh I like the representations LOL

the line that spoke about her sadness can be from a multitude the reason, whether it's from her solitude or the way she has been alive for too long with no purposes, she longed for something she couldn't quite articulate or pinpoint, it's an aimless, lifeless life she's living in. Separated from mortals she once loved, she feels out of place, it's like she's a ghost that travels these places

...I was half debating if i wanna write her heart was broken because she was with Price as a mortal, and then because of the immortality thing she lost Price forever

but thEN, I was thinking...what if this GhostRaven thing becomes a GhostPriceRaven thing....EH??? but yeah i haven't taught that far yet

the premise is that Ghost, who's a god that rarely made his presence known, is curious about Eira, who dares to talk to him and even be in his realm

the story will end in layers of angst KJSDHGLK because see Id like to imagine a deity associated with darkness is a delicate subject, it is a balance between light and darkness, life and death and the known and unknown

so surely, by exploring and letting an immortal linger too long in his realm- or in his heart, would have some effect (rubs hands together menacingly)

but idk the idea of Ghost finding a pretty lil star is what im chasing LOL

Raven who's curious and also interested in this...enigma...this God that so many are fearful of...

idk if i will develop this au beyond just this snippet, because it's just a fun lil idea for me, we'll see how it goes

bonus of me struggling:

[startanewdream]

In which James and Lily Potter fall in love, defeat a dark lord, and rebuild the world (and how only one of these becomes true).

*****

Once James had told the story of how he fell in love with her at first sight; sometimes she’d imagine him watching her that day, something clicking and fixing its place in his heart. He might have truly loved her later only, after adding each piece of the puzzle that Lily was to him until he had finished it —but he had the final image revealed ever since their first meeting. For James, love had been a lightning bolt, blazing, overwhelming.

It had not been the same for Lily.

Falling in love with James had been a slow journey. Circumstances had driven them to work together, then form an alliance and eventually a friendship, until Lily found herself with James Potter at the core of her life; she cared for him, then she craved him. Where James had never questioned his feelings, Lily had doubted and pressured them at every turn, resisting as much as she could; it had not made any difference. She had finished the same puzzle he had, finding herself with the same image that James had always had, only she took a while to see it.

Read Chapter 4/4 | From the beginning.

[arts-and-drafts]

Come Morning Light (Part 13)

Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five / Part Six / Part Seven / Part Eight / Part Nine / Part Ten / Part Eleven / Part Twelve

(Unlucky number 13 >:)c This chapter is a shorter one, but it's leading up to something VERY big that is taking most of my waking hours to write, so stay tuned! Next chapter is gonna be a doozy! Mind the content warnings on this one!)

CW: Death, manipulation, minor body horror

-

Tommy dropped in slow motion.

Joe couldn't move fast enough to catch him, but he was at his side in an instant, his hands on Tommy's shoulders. His mind was spinning with shock. He saw the message, but that made no sense. 'Falling out of the world' meant a player was killed by an admin, but Xisuma banned Dream, and he never would've--

And Tommy's body was still here.

His eyes were glossy and staring at the sky, taunting Joe and everything he thought he knew. Joe's blood dripped on Tommy's face, and it stood out against his paling skin like a poppy in snow.

Joe screamed.

He vaguely registered the other hermits closing in around them, but he couldn't look away. All he could see was Tommy's face, his corpse-

He wasn't going to accept this.

Joe's vision went white.

-

Cleo knew as soon as Joe stilled that he went Searching.

She shoved past the others to see Joe's eyes were now glowing white, the remnants of tears still streaking down his cheeks. Cleo pulled her mouth into a firm line and settled beside him, reaching to pry one of his hands away from--no, don't look down. Don't look. That makes it real. Just don't look.

Clumsily, she managed to fit their fingers together, and she gave Joe's hand a quick but firm squeeze.

The other hermits were deathly quiet, but Cleo kept her eyes on Joe's face. With his eyes like this, and blood pouring down his chin, he looked like a poltergeist.

'Come back,' Cleo prayed, to any god that would listen. 'Please, Joe, don't get lost.'

Immediately after the thought formed, Joe full-body jerked, and the glow faded from his eyes. His chest was heaving, and Cleo noticed one of her fingers had cracked with how tightly he gripped her hand. Distantly, she was thankful that most of her nerves had rotted away by now.

"Where is he?" Cleo murmured, because she still wasn't looking down and she wasn't going to, but she knew what had happened. The communicators never lied.

"He's-" Joe gasped, and he snapped to the side, looking Xisuma dead in the eyes, his pupils blown. "X, he's in the Void."

-

The Void was cold.

Even through his suit, Xisuma could feel the chill beginning to numb his extremities. No light reached here, no life or substance. It was just nothing. Empty, and vast.

Except for, of course, the banned.

Evil X's presence was much stronger here, having had all this time to himself to fester his anger, and Xisuma immediately had a headache from all the condensed hatred he could sense. Xisuma had taken every precaution with his counterpart, and was confident in his prison, but evil could never be contained completely.

Xisuma wasn't here for him. No, he was here for the other presence he could now sense, a chilling calm that was colder than the Void itself.

Xisuma steeled himself, and turned to see Dream, lounging in midair like he didn't have a care in the world. A lodestone compass lazily swung from a chain in his hand, its enchantment swirling with something Xisuma had never seen before.

"Let me out, and I'll give him back." Dream spoke, his gaze lifting to Xisuma. He looked almost disinterested with how calm he seemed.

"That's Tommy?" Xisuma asked, before he could stop himself. Joe had told him that he tracked Tommy's soul into the Void, but was then halted by a force stronger than his ability, and he was forced to turn back.

The force had to have been Dream.

"Yeah." Dream said, like it was obvious. "All of him is in this little compass."

Xisuma floated closer, only vaguely aware of his movement. At this distance, he could see lettering etched on the compass's back, but Dream was swinging it just fast enough that it was hard to make out.

"So?" Dream said. "Do we have a deal?"

"How do I know you're not lying?" Xisuma challenged, relying on his image to intimidate the man. He was only barely managing to keep his voice steady.

Dream scoffed, and abruptly yanked the chain and caught the compass in his hand. "You don't. But I hope you can see that this is not a good situation to lie to you in."

Now that the compass was still, Xisuma could read the words. Your Tommy.

Xisuma's stomach clenched in revulsion.

"You can keep me here," Dream said, taking advantage of Xisuma's silence, "and you'll never see him again. Or, you let me go, and I'll give him back to you."

The monster shrugged. "Your choice."

"You've been trying to get your hands on him this whole time." Xisuma argued, his hands shaking with rage. "Why would you give him up now?"

Dream turned in midair, moving like he was trying to get comfortable. Xisuma knew he wouldn't be able to, and he selfishly clung to that knowledge with a dark satisfaction in the midst of this situation.

"Tommy's not worth my freedom." Dream said simply. "I don't care about the brat that much."

"Then what if I say no?" Xisuma pressed, calling Dream's bluff. "What if I leave you here for eternity?"

Dream matched Xisuma's gaze, his one visible eye sharp and calculating.

"You'd do that to him?" He asked, and Xisuma couldn't bring himself to lie.

He cared about Tommy more than he cared about keeping Dream locked away.

"...One condition." Xisuma relented bitterly, clenching his fists. Dream raised an eyebrow.

"You don't come back here. You don't ever set foot in Hermitcraft again." Xisuma said, and he was not asking.

Dream's eye crinkled in an unseen smile, and Xisuma suddenly got the feeling that he messed up very badly.

"Deal."

-

Xisuma materialized back in the Overworld on Tommy's old bed, holding the compass like it would shatter at the slightest movement.

In a rush like a summer breeze, Xisuma felt the tension that was building in Hermitcraft's magic ease all at once, as if the balance of nature itself released a breath of relief.

Xisuma found no solace in the feeling. His stomach was twisted into knots over what he'd just done, what he'd just released back to the world Tommy came from.

One thing at a time.

Xisuma had to duck to contain his height through the doorframe. He kept his eyes down as he made his way to the battlefield, the crowd of hermits surrounding Tommy's body casting long shadows in the morning light. Xisuma noticed someone had rearranged Tommy's limbs into a more dignified pose, his legs straight and his arms laid over his stomach.

"I've got him." Xisuma uttered, and the hermits parted to give him a clear path to Joe. The admin slowly knelt and held out the compass, and for a moment, Joe matched his gaze with wet eyes.

Whatever he saw in Xisuma's expression, Joe opted instead to hover his hand over the compass. Immediately, his face changed.

"That's him," Joe said breathlessly. "Yeah, that's--put him here."

Joe guided Xisuma's hands to place the compass on Tommy's body, right next to the one Tommy had only just started wearing in the open. Now that they were side by side, something finally clicked.

Your Tubbo. Your Tommy.

Oh.

"Now what?" Tango asked, breaking the somber silence. "Do we--do we break it?"

"No! No-" Joe blurted out. "Tommy's--well, technically, that compass is his body right now." He explained. "His soul's tethered to it. We've gotta extract him."

"How?" Impulse asked. "That's--that's serious magic, can any of us even do that?"

Joe looked at Cleo. "I can."

A heavy silence.

"But I'm gonna need help." Joe continued. "I can be a gateway to Tommy, but somebody needs to go in and get him out."

"I'll do it." Xisuma said, instantly, but Joe shook his head. "Tommy's gonna be in a very fragile headspace. It has to be somebody he trusts enough to follow back out, and...no offense, Xisuma, but you're not that to him."

Xisuma dipped his head and said nothing more. It did sting to hear, but Joe was right. Tommy had only just gotten comfortable enough around the admin that he wasn't always ready to pull out a weapon around him.

After what Xisuma had just done to get him back, he didn't blame the kid.

Joe looked to Mumbo, who was wringing his hands and staring at Tommy's body, his eyes glazed over with shock. He seemed to come back to himself when he noticed everyone following Joe's gaze.

"Wh--me?"

"Do you not want to?" Joe replied, his face changing, and Mumbo scrambled. "No! I mean--yes, I'll do it, of course, but--me?" He asked again. "I'm not-"

"Haven't you heard how he talks about you?" Cleo interrupted. "He thinks you hung the stars, Mumbo. If you asked him for anything, he'd do it."

Mumbo still looked incredibly uncertain.

"You don't have to, Mumbo." Joe stated, somehow able to keep his tone understanding given the topic. "But I truly think you're his best bet. He looks to you more than any of us."

Mumbo took a breath, and slowly smoothed out the front of his suit jacket.

"...Okay."

The ghost of a smile flitted across Joe's face. "Come on, we can't waste any time."

He glanced at Cleo again, guilt harbored in his eyes for a fraction of a second. Cleo rolled her eyes and nudged him, and Joe relaxed, their unsaid conversation putting him at ease.

Joe held out his hand to Mumbo, who took it. Joe gently placed his other over the compass, and then turned back to Mumbo.

"I'm sending you into Tommy's soul." Joe said, staring unblinking into Mumbo's eyes. "He's going to be very vulnerable. You have got to be the most careful you've ever been. Do you understand?"

Mumbo paled considerably, but he nodded, a look of determination on his face. "How do I--what do I do?"

"When you find him, just be honest." Joe said. "He should do the rest. But you have to come back with him, okay? We don't want an accidental possession, that would cause a whole new issue."

Mumbo nodded, and took a steadying breath.

"Get our boy back, Mumbo." Iskall uttered softly, placing a strong hand on Mumbo's shoulder. Mumbo laid his own over Iskall's, just for a moment.

"I'll do my best." Mumbo said, distantly, staring at Tommy's body. "Promise."

Joe and Iskall smiled, as strained as it was, and Iskall stepped back.

"Here we go," said Joe, and the world fell away.

[petrichormeraki]

slowly but surely making my way through the next chapter of Come Morning Light, here's a messy doodle of an out of context scene :)

[your3fundamentaltruths]

For Polin Week, do you think you would add to your fic about Penelope having amnesia because I think about that one at least once a month. You’re a great writer and I love all of your fics. Thank you so much for sharing them.

Thank you SO much for the kind words, Nonny!

While it is WAY past Polin Week at this point (sorry!), I do plan to get back to it someday.

THAT SAID, I have another married!Polin amnesia AU in the works, based off the premise that Penelope has amnesia and the last thing she remembers is the night of the Featherington ball. It's currently called come morning light, but the original working title was words I don't believe and I'm torn between the two.

[bloodhxney]

I remember tears streaming down your face When I said I'll never let you go When all those shadows almost killed your light I remember you said don't leave me here alone But all that's dead and gone and passed tonight

Just close your eyes, the sun is going down You'll be alright, no one can hurt you now Come morning light, you and I'll be safe and sound

Don't you dare look out your window, darling, everything's on fire The war outside our door keeps raging on Hold onto this lullaby even when the music's gone, gone

[rafecameronssl4t]

Golf day || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary: INSPIRED BY THIS TIKTOK

Warnings: pure fluff hehehehe

Word count: 497

A/n: if anyone has any tiktoks that they want me to turn into a Rafe fic, send them thru pls!!!! I love finding random vids on my fyp that are so Rafe coded. ALSO BEGGING FOR MORE DAD!RAFE REQUESTSS

MASTERLIST (dad!rafe au masterlist)

divider by @h-aewo

“Do you think she’ll enjoy it?” Rafe questions, turning his head to you, his eyes lingering on Mabel, comfortably nestled on your lap. He looks genuinely concerned, his brow furrowed with worry.

“You know she loves watching you do anything,” you reply with a reassuring chuckle, trying to soothe his anxiety. As you adjust the tiny hat on your daughter’s head, you can’t help but smile at her innocent excitement.

It was Mabel’s first time at the golf course, and Rafe had been on edge all morning. He’d peppered you with questions like, “Don’t you think it will be too hot?” and “What if she gets bored?” His nervousness was palpable, a stark contrast to his usual composed demeanor.

You had spent the morning reassuring him, reminding him repeatedly that Mabel would be perfectly fine. You knew she would be thrilled just to watch her dad play golf, her eyes following his every move with awe and admiration.

“Do you think she’ll like this spot?” Rafe asks as the golf cart comes to a gentle stop under the shade of a large oak tree. “Babe, you’re the one playing,” you giggle, enjoying his overprotectiveness. Rafe laughs softly, his eyes crinkling with amusement. “Mabel, do you like it here?” he asks, his voice tender as he tickles her chin. Mabel responds with a delightful giggle that melts your heart.

You adjust Mabel on your lap so she’s facing Rafe, her wide, curious eyes tracking his every move as he unloads his golf clubs. The sun casts a warm glow over the course, and you can’t help but admire how handsome Rafe looks in his golf gear. “Doesn’t Daddy look so handsome, Bels?” you murmur to Mabel, pressing light kisses on her rosy cheeks. She giggles uncontrollably and tickling sensation.

Rafe turns at the sound of her infectious giggles, a broad smile lighting up his face. “You girls doing alright?” he calls out, his eyes sparkling with joy. You chuckle, giving him a thumbs-up and lifting Mabel’s tiny hand to wave at him.

Remembering that Rose wanted a video of Mabel’s first time at the golf course, you quickly pull out your phone and aim the camera at Mabel’s expressive face. She’s watching Rafe intently, her anticipation palpable.

As Rafe lines up his shot, you can see the concentration etched on his face. The moment the club makes contact with the golf ball, sending it soaring through the air, Mabel flinches in surprise. You can’t help but laugh, immediately clamping your hand over your mouth, feeling a bit guilty for laughing at her reaction.

Rafe shields his eyes with his hand, squinting into the distance to see where the ball landed. Satisfied with his shot, he turns back and walks towards you and Mabel, a broad smile lighting up his face. “Daddy’s pretty good, isn’t he?” Rafe chuckles as he reaches you, gently lifting Mabel from under her armpits and pressing a loving kiss on her round cheek.

You quickly snap a photo of the sweet moment. Their joy is infectious, and you can’t help but chuckle as you send the video and picture to Rose. Mabel’s earlier reaction to the sound of Rafe hitting the ball plays in your mind, making you smile.

Rafe notices your amusement. “What’s so funny?” he asks, his curiosity piqued as he sees you smiling at your phone. You glance up, grinning, and show him the video of Mabel’s startled reaction to his golf swing.

“Aww, I’m sorry, babygirl,” Rafe says with a laugh, his eyes softening as he watches the video. “I’ll let you know when I’m going to hit the ball next time.” Mabel, already captivated by her dad’s presence, giggles and reaches out to touch his face, her earlier surprise forgotten.

Rafe’s heart melts as he cradles Mabel in his arms, swaying gently. “You’re my good luck charm, you know that?” he murmurs, his voice filled with love. Mabel coos in response, her tiny hands grasping at Rafe’s shirt.

[deadsetobsessions]

Sea Cryptic! Danny AU- Pt.2

[Pt.1] [Pt.3] [Pt.4] [Pt.5] [Pt.6] [Pt.7] [Pt.8] [Pt.9] [Pt.10]

Danny dragged up another plastic wrapped body from the bay.

“It’s you. What are you doing?”

“Oh, holy smokes!” Danny screeched. “What-! Oh, it’s you! The litterer!”

Batman stood in front of Danny, cape draped around his shoulders and a far better sight to see than the last time Danny had seen the guy.

“… I’m Batman.” He introduced himself to Danny awkwardly.

“Uh huh. You missed a couple of things cleaning up the beach last time.” Danny dropped the body on the pebbled shore of the bay and crossed his arms. He sent Batman an unimpressed look. “You’re just like your city. There’s trash all over the water!”

Batman glanced down.

“That is a body.”

Danny scowled.

“No, that’s plastic. Plastic does not belong in the ocean.”

Batman sighed. For some reason, Danny thought he seemed less… antagonistic. Wait, did he think Danny killed the guy?!

“That is a body wrapped in plastic.”

Fuck it.

“If it was a body, then bury it. Or decompose it before you people decide to dump it into the water. Even the sharks have the decency to decompose when they’re dead. Do you know how long plastic takes to deteriorate??”

Batman glanced to the side, where the line of plastic wrapped masses had caught his eye to begin with.

“I do. Did all of these come from the bay?”

“Quite obviously, yes. I don’t have enough time to clean the waters! Ancients, it’s like they’re multiplying!” Danny knew why they were multiplying. It’s because Gothamites were getting murdered and dumped weekly. The problem is that Danny has classes and assignments to complete and he couldn’t be out here every week.

“I’ll handle it.”

“Oh, will you? And how do you plan on doing that when you couldn’t even properly clean the beach of your plane? I even stacked it up nicely for you to pick up!”

Alright, so maybe Danny had a couple of grudges. Like… a solid one that’s based on the hours of sleep he missed cleaning up after Batman and the wreck.

“We didn’t get everything?”

“No.” Danny huffed. “Whatever. Just figure out what to do with these bodies. I was not looking forward to digging graves for all of them.”

“You were going to dig graves for them?” Batman sounded off.

Danny scowled again. “I’m dead, genius.” And now Batman looked like someone ran over his dog. “Respecting the dead is important and graves are important for the dead. How else would we know we’re remembered?”

Danny threw up his hands. “Humans,” he muttered, like he wasn’t half human himself.

“Anyways, I’m leaving. Handle this properly or else I’m haunting you.”

“Wait-!” Batman said, but Danny had already disappeared.

So, while Batman had an angst crises at two thirty in the morning and thirty new unidentified corpses to contend with, Danny Fenton flew back to his apartment and passed out on his shitty couch.

——

“You need to stop.”

“Pay me to stop, then. What are your villains going to do? Kill me? I’d like to see them try.”

Danny looked Batman right in his lenses and plopped another body down at the man’s feet.

“I can tell you who they are for a fee.” Danny offered the vigilante. “Some of these still have shades of their souls attached still.”

“What.”

Danny tilted his head, moon once more lighting a halo of flickering white flames around his head. “$100 per identity.”

Batman stared.

[tcmecho]

✨✨AU TIME!!✨✨

The LLSMP members have created a medieval + avian AU for our characters RARARARARA /pos

Considering c!Echo already had wings- their AU wings are fancy! Fancy bird bard boi!! (Their wing patterns are based on African Harrier-Hawks!)

Little AU lore crumbs:

- Echo’s father and brother are hooded crow avians, their mother is a great blue heron avian (same as in canon)

- They’re genetically a hooded crow avian as well, but they shapeshift their wings to be in this form

- They have many crow avian mannerisms, and grew up worshipping the deities of night and death - as corvid avians tend to do

- Yes, the deity of death is Mumza

Also where are my fellow LLSMP members at?? 🧐 Am I the only one who uses tumblr lmaooo

[cloudwisp]

✮ sylus x wife!reader (2)

contents: tooth-rotting fluff. arranged marriage au. sylus as your sweet and doting husband who's simply in love with you and anything that you do. 1.5k wc.

꒰ note ᰔ thank you for everyone's patience who requested a part two!! I truly hope this meets your expectations <3

part one here. ꒱

⭒ You’re an early bird married to a night owl. After gradually moving your belongings into Sylus’ master bedroom, your different sleeping schedules were made acutely aware. His day is just beginning when you’re heading to bed and he’s more or less mentally retired after a long night of business dealings and meetings when your body decidedly rises with the first rays of light at dawn. Because of this, you both compromise to meet somewhere in the middle—Sylus sweetly tucks you in later than your usual bedtime and leaves only when you’d fallen asleep, and you snuggle with him in the mornings until the very last minute and you’re forced to get ready for the working day. However, his sleeping patterns are more on the irregular side and he’ll check in on you when he’s supposed to be resting.

⭒ When Luke and Kieran witness you and Sylus bid each other with a goodbye kiss—an affectionate and wholesome display between lovers as your husband sees you off to work at the front door, they are stunned and lose it from the sidelines at the budding romance. “Wait, what just happened?” “Was there a development while we were gone?” The crow twins would share glances and decipher the scene before them together. They both have been rooting for you and their boss since day one, and they marvel at the way you both are completely smitten with each other. As though you two are like newlyweds who can't get enough of your shared love, unwilling to separate just yet even as you slowly step away from Sylus.

⭒ His touch linger with purpose to hold onto every last part of you and his hands move from your waist and slide down your arms to hold your hands until his fingers curl slightly and mourn the loss of your warmth when he eventually has to let you go. When Sylus watches your figure disappear and return back inside his home he receives a thumbs up and pending double high fives respectively from his two henchmen. He walks past them and ignores their antics by giving them orders, but Luke doesn’t leave his brother hanging and celebrates that their boss is officially and undeniably in love.

⭒ Anniversaries were an unexpected thing to celebrate with Sylus—along with holidays and birthdays. You were caught by surprise when you received a gorgeous dress and pearls inside a pretty wrapped box adorned with ribbons after being married to Sylus for three months. You weren’t quite romantically involved with him at that point and went along with what he planned for the evening, and you had a feeling it wasn’t just a performance for the public at an upscale restaurant but he genuinely wanted to make this night special for you. Then something in the air shifted and became sweeter and you suppose you wanted to start making the smaller things in life count. Even if there wasn’t a particular milestone coming up, you decide to make one up yourself. After all, there’s a true saying that the secret to marriage is keeping it fresh and interesting.

⭒ With the help of the cute twins, they set up a cozy tent in the verdant space of the garden meanwhile you decorate fairy lights all around in swooping arcs and tight lines, arrange pillows and blankets inside, and place a deck of kitty cards in the center. After everything is where you need it to be, you show the boys your gratitude and send them away as you work on the finishing touches. You gather the plate of chocolate-covered strawberries and two glasses for the red wine when suddenly your husband sneaks up from behind you and wrap himself around you, inquiring about how the twins wanted him to come find you… Oh those cheeky little things. Well, never mind them. “Don’t tell me that you forgot what today is. Happy 300 days since our first kiss, baby.” You admit that it may come off as a little silly and no one’s truly keeping count, but you simply wanted to do something nice for him.

⭒ Sylus never passes up an opportunity to take care of his darling wife. Even if that means going along with your unusual ideas like you suggesting to borrow his dress shoes after the auction show was over. He throws you a puzzled look followed by a bemuse chuckle, and he supposes he could oblige if that’s what you really wanted. You explain to him that being well dressed from head to toe to match his outfit came at the price of your painfully, aching feet. And he can’t resist giving into your demands when you ask with such adorable little pouts. There are more practical methods to go about the situation, but he certainly loves humoring you even if things don't work out the way you thought they would.

⭒ Sylus leads you to a nearby bench and gestures for you to have a seat while he removes his shoes and bends down on one knee before you, unworried about dirtying his expensive trousers. He works diligently to undo the straps around your ankles and place your heels aside to focus on slipping his shoes onto your feet. “Well, you look quite fetching in my shoes. Now shall we continue our walk or do you have any more requests to make?” He helps you straighten yourself as he returns to his normal height. You huff and make a discontent noise when you almost trip over your own two feet trying to take a step forward in your (his) much too large and too spacious shoes. “Actually, these won’t do. I changed my mind, I want my heels back.”

⭒ Sylus chuckles at your hopeless attempt, his hand going on your hip to keep you from toppling over and accidentally hurting yourself. “Ah, it appears my shoes are too big for you, kitten. You say you want your heels back, hm?” He kneels before you once more as he retrieves your pair of heels, his fingers brushing along the underside of your leg and he carefully tugs them back on your feet. He gives your ankle a gentle squeeze as he finishes securing the straps, his gaze flickering up to meet yours. "There, I hope you're satisfied now, my sweet wife." His arm then goes around your waist and he effortlessly lifts you off the ground without so much as a warning. He smirks at your precious reaction, your body flushed against his meanwhile your arms encircle his neck for balance. “Why don’t I just carry you the rest of the way instead?”

⭒ You’re snuggled up against Sylus’ chest as you bring a concern to his attention one night. “What happens when our arrangement comes to an end?” The main reason you agreed to marry him in the first place is because it was a contract marriage with a specific time frame of five years that you’d have to spend with him. And you realize that with everything he does, he’s always been considerate of you as a whole even with how he drafted this contract knowing that it could end at his own expense. He provided you with a means of freeing yourself from him if you for whatever reason wished to no longer continue your marriage with him after the term ends. The choice is left entirely up to you because he never wanted you to feel trapped but he won’t make it easy for you. “If I decided to leave, you’d really let me go?”

⭒ Sylus hesitates for a moment, his gaze fixed on you and he seems to be thinking about something as his expression grows serious. “You always know how to ask the tough questions, don’t you sweetie?” After a moment, he lets out a small sigh and nods. “…Yes. Technically, you’ll be free to go. I won’t stop you if you truly want to leave.” Another sigh escapes him, yet his voice remains soft and sincere and he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and his palm cradles your cheek. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want you to stay. What do you want to happen when the contract ends, darling?”

⭒ You mull over your thoughts, teasing him with a pensive look as you purposely drag on the seconds. “Since you’re leaving it up to me, I think… I want to renew our vows at the five-year mark. How’s that sound?” A surprise and slight disbelief flit across his face at the same moment his countenance softens at your affirmation. “You want to renew our vows?” You offer him a demure nod with your sweet smile and he gently takes your hand in his, bringing it to his face and laying a kiss against your knuckles. “Then it’s settled. I would be honored to renew our vows when the time comes. There will be no more contracts or strings attached. We’ll be bound by our love and our love only.”

[gorejo]

▸ A SOUVENIR FOR THE MORNING - GOJO SATORU. - forbes gojo!au

synopsis: you’ve avoided him for the last eight years, only for him to pop back into your life, leaving you with no room to run away as he asks you to kiss him. catch is, he now has a golden ring on his promise finger.

content: 9.2k words (idk how this happened, and it's unedited bc it's too long to go through) afab!reader, she/her pronouns, cursing, explicit smut, light angst, mentions of alcohol, unprotected sex, fingering, cunnilingus, creampie, and anxiety triggers (picking at nails), pet names (baby, sweetheart, love, angel, good girl). minors do not interact.

The room is packed with people when you walk in. It was hard to recall some faces from the mirage of dimmed lights making you feel mildly dizzy and it didn’t help how the buzzing in your head from the smell of champagne and the loud chatter from the already drunk almost thirty-year-olds that can’t seem to contain their liquor-like novices, made you want to go home increasingly more.

“It’s only 9:41, and they’re drinking like they’ve never tasted alcohol before,” you heard Shoko mumble as she searched through her purse to reach for her perfume, “you want some?” Your best friend offered with a smile as she looked at you through the bathroom mirror. 

“I’m okay,” you smiled back, “can’t have all the boys following me around with that,” you teased.

Shaking her head in disapproval, “If you see me go home with any of these drunks, I give you full permission to hit me, no, in fact, I’ll pull up to your apartment every morning with coffee and take you to work for a week if I do,” Shoko shuddered while furrowing her brows only to quickly soften the moment she saw you lightly picking at your thumb – an anxious habit you’ve picked up throughout the years, only but the keenest of eyes being able to notice your anxiety.

“You okay love?” Her voice was sweet as she leaned against the restroom sink.

“Mhm, of course,” you faked a smile, “I guess I’m just a little nervous seeing everyone, you know,” lightly chuckling as you bit your lips. Little was underlying, when the knot in your stomach was building up, making you force down the urge to entirely vomit in the moment. 

“People are thrilled to see you again,” placing her hand on your shoulder, “it’s literally been years for you,” she huffed, pouting as she reminisced over the years she attended alone.  

“well ‘m sure one will be sure thrilled —” her voice suddenly drained from a crowd of people entering the restroom, slightly pushing you towards her, “nevermind come on, let’s go get something to drink,” Shoko muttered as she led you out, gently massaging your tense neck as she encouraged, bringing her lips to your ears, “if anyone bites, I’ll chop their dick off,” Shoko threatened with a flashing smile as she led you to a nearby table.  

It’s only 9:41 — no, 9:42.

College reunions, who looks forward to that? 

There was no particular reason for you to be anxious, it’s been years since. You’ve prepared yourself for this, meditating every single day since you got the notification in your email on a Tuesday evening — an invite to rsvp for a room at the Aman Hotel. 

Maybe it wouldn’t have been so nerve-wracking if you’ve been consistently going out to these every year since they’ve held one. But every year there seems to be a conflict in the schedule that forbade you to go.

One year it was your boss last-minute asking your team to work overtime, when a rookie employee lost all the data when he supposedly fell asleep, accidentally losing months of all your blood, sweat, and tears to make it for the deadline on your next advertising project. 

Poor kid was fired the next day.

The following year, you were determined to go, going as far as walking to the restaurant, when the sudden nausea of socializing plagued your mind. The joyous welcomings and celebrations annoyingly muffled in your ear as you groaned past a familiar voice that seemed to call out your name from a distance. Your feet walking on their own volition through your sleep deprivation. Only to wake up in your bed with countless text messages from your best friend asking what the hell happened. 

No wonder it was so fucking loud that night. 

Another was simple, not your fault this time. Shoko couldn’t make it because of her rounds at the hospital. 

Never in hell were you going to show up alone. 

And the last one, well your taxi got a sudden flat tire. That in itself was a confirmation for you not to go, nor did you have any dying wish to go. Quickly texting your best friend, huffing out a sigh of relief as you pressed send.

&lt;< sorry… can’t make it tonight. I promise, next year!! 

Today, well things seemed to have aligned. No overtime, no flat tires, no sleep deprivation, no nothing.

Maybe it was an excuse? 

Maybe you were subconsciously avoiding it? 

But ironic is it, that life seems to protect you when most fragile, only to push you out into the void when least expected making you feel even more vulnerable, feeling so exposed in such a cruel world. 

Or maybe the universe was waiting for this moment, that despite your consensus or approval, it was determined that you were ready to confront it — well it, being the owner of a pair of brilliant light blue eyes that sparkled like an aqua jewel, shining brighter than when you’ve last seen them clouded in tears as you let go of his trembling hand for the last time, crushing his pure heart as you left him with, “i’m sorry.”

Was that already eight years ago? 

But whether it was the consequence of your selfish choice or a blessing of choosing to be selfless, luck was on your side today…

… well, you hoped at least somewhat on your side.

“My … look who it is,” you heard a voice from behind you.

Turning around, though the shame of suddenly cutting him off enticed your heart as you faced him, you couldn’t help but smile at his familiar face walking over with two drinks in his hand.

Holding the same gentle eye smile, with a lock of his black hair falling down on his left side, donned in a white dress shirt with his sleeves cuffed at the elbows, no tie but buttons loosely opened with a pair of dark slacks and shined dress shoes. Geto Suguru walked over.

“Aren’t you still handsome,” you complimented with a sweet smile.

“Don’t feed into his ego like that,” Shoko chimed as she nudged your arm, “his head is already big enough.”

“Who me?” Exaggerating his response, only to soon level down to the same amiable smile, calm cadence you’ve remembered him to have as he offered you a drink, “I have to take all the compliment I can get, don’t know when you’ll go awol and go missing for another eight years.”

“Funny…” you muttered, rolling your eyes while taking the drink by the stem, “and thank you, Suguru.”

“Where’s mine?” Shoko jabbed while shooting a glare at his nonchalance.

“Not here,” Geto flashed a smile, innocently shrugging. 

“Whatever, I’ll get my own,” shaking her head in disapproval, grumbling while making her way to get a drink, but still making a point to stop in front of the man to warn, “Don’t say anything weird Suguru, I barely got her to come today.”

“Relax, ‘m just trying to catch up with an old friend,” Geto countered, making a point to whisper while smiling at you.

“I won't hurt her, that I promise,” Geto affirmed. 

Your best friend walked off only to turn around for a brief moment as she worriedly looked back at you “Text me for anything okay?” 

“I’ll be fine! Don’t worry,” you reassured.

“And don’t forget what I said, I’ll even cut his,” deadpanning while looking at your male counterpart, “I got no problem doing it, I’m medically certified anyways, there’s nothing that a sharp scalpel can’t fix, ” Shoko stated with an innocent smile while walking off. 

“So,” releasing a sigh as he pushed the strains of his hair back, “how’ve you been?” Geto smiled.

“I’ve been… okay,” you confessed while placing your lips against your glass before taking a sip, “could be better.”

“Thought you were living your life,” Geto teased, his voice laced with sarcasm, “Shoko wouldn’t tell us much about you.”

“I… I told her not to,” you confessed while leaning against your table, the pain of your heels starting to ache up your back. 

“How come? Weren’t we your friends too?” 

“I just didn’t think it was best to keep myself in the circle when I —” biting the inside of your mouth to stuff the suffocating knot forming underneath your lungs.

“ — When you broke up with him?” Geto finished your hesitation.

Nodding yes, you softly whispered, “I thought it was for the best for him.”

“For the best huh?” Geto chuckled, “well I guess you didn’t know him too well then.”

“What do you mean?” Your brows furrowed as your mouth started to feel dry, “I did it because we weren’t compatible, I would’ve been a stumbling block for him,” you stammered as your voice started to shake, “I- I would’ve halted his growth, and he would’ve hated me in the end if I selfishly held onto him when he was worth so much more than being with me,” you confessed with lips quivering as a tear fell, only to quickly brush it away before Suguru could notice.

But nothing passes with him, he reads right through you. His voice softened, “Was this your insecurity you’ve decided for him or — ” turning his body to face you while his body leaned on his arm against the standing table, “Was this something he actually would’ve struggled with?”

“I can’t change the past Suguru.” You shamefully avoided his gaze, “I still stand by my decision.”

“I don’t doubt that,” shrugging as he exhaled, “I mean, you did avoid him for almost a decade.”

“H-he seems happy,” you let your thoughts slip.

“You think so?” 

“Shoko would tell me about everyone, you, him” you unnoticingly spewed out your thoughts. “Of course not in full detail, but that you’ve established your own studio, and that you’ve finally released those photos.”

“Mhm, that’s correct, would’ve loved to have invited you to the exhibition, it was quite… a moment,” he chuckled while playing with his fingers. 

“That Megumi’s in high school and that he’s gotten in trouble for beating up the school bullies,” lowly laughing as you remembered how cute yet scarily mature he was for his age.

“Nanami hates corporate life, but still listens to what he has to say even if it’s outrageous.” Taking a sip of your drink, the sparkle of the beverage mildly burning your throat, “... and that he’s traveling the world living his life.”

Mumbling under your breath, “he’s even recently gone to Paris and had a night picnic with —”

“You stalked him?” Geto teased as he huffed out a laugh when he caught your shocked expression

“No — I mean, Shoko would tell me,” you stammered.

“Sure, whatever you say, sweetheart," Geto teased, "but just to let you know, he just got back. And from what I know, they haven’t met since he arrived. His plane should’ve landed,” while dramatically looking at his watch, “I don’t know like an hour ago? He’s probably on his way over here,” Geto handsomely winked as he suddenly placed a gentle hold of your waist and brought you near his side.

“You know… he’ll look for you, now knowing that you’re here” Geto whispered into your ear.

“How does he know… I told Shoko to not tell —”

Blinking innocently at you with a smile, while playing with his phone, “can’t avoid the poor guy forever.”

“I’m not avoiding him,” you sighed knowing what Geto had done, “just didn’t have a chance to run into him.”

“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” releasing you with a smile, “ if you’re really sure about where you stand, then don’t run away from him.”

Geto's eyes flash to the entrance doors for a split second and land back on you.

“But would you look at that,” humming as he pointed to his empty glass yet his eyes caught sight of a familiar figure. It was the first in a while that you felt your heart sinking, all the blood in your body rushing out, making you suddenly feel lifeless and queasy.

“Gonna get another glass, you want one?” Suguru suggested.

“I’m okay, but thank you Suguru,” you quickly stated as your heart started to beat faster by the second.

“Sure, just don’t be a stranger again,” Suguru teased as he started to walk off, but your hand immediately reached out to catch his arm to quickly reinforce, “I- I mean it… thank you.”

Knowing your implication, smiling as he received your thanks, “No need, as fucking cringe it is,” chuckling as he shook his head, looking over your shoulder and back at you, “he’s my best friend, of course, I’ll be there for him.”

Letting go of his arm, your hands anxiously balled into a fist as you quickly turned around to avoid him, doing anything to hide from his sight. You felt your breaths becoming increasingly more difficult to inhale, and stagnant as your palms started to sweat. 

“I’m not avoiding him… I’m not avoiding him” you quietly mumbled to yourself, your words contradicting your actions as you walked further away onto the balcony, texting Shoko, 

<< I’ll be outside getting some fresh air (: let me know when you want to leave.  

Closing your phone, as you let the night breeze wash against your face, leaving light chills around your body, you nervously sighed, “It’s been eight years you say…”

— 

Your story was nothing short of the typical — difference in class and status, trying to make things work just for the convenience of love. It wasn’t hard at first to situate yourself into his life, nor was it any difficult for him to become accustomed to yours. 

They say time will change things, circumstances will get better. Be patient with your season, and you’ll be rewarded for your hardwork.

But somethings never change no matter how hard you try to alter the dice. He’s rich and you’re just average.

Money works for him, while you had to take on multiple jobs just to make your next rent at the start of your career. 

He was bound for greatness at a young age, trained by the best professionals and tutored by an exquisite league of mentors. While you had to settle for things, simply dreaming of the what can be. Thus, you worked even harder. You pushed yourself to keep up, to become of the level of who he’s supposed to be, and what he could accomplish. 

When he dozed off in class, you stayed up. You studied, pulled all-nighters, chugged caffeine, and oftentimes had to push back dates with him for simple study sessions — he didn’t complain, said he liked to just sleep with his head rested on your lap while he cuddled into your stomach while you studied. 

“Don’t mind me, I’ll be your personal radiator,” he would chime with a boyish grin on his face, taking off his sunglasses as he stretched his long legs before latching behind you like a koala, “wake me up when you’re done, I’ll drive you home,” Gojo peacefully murmured without forgetting to place a kiss to your shoulder, while you stressed over your next exam. 

With him, even the coldest days always felt warm.

And on the next day, he’ll always take you to class with some soup and hot tea, murmuring about your poor dietary choices and how you often neglect your health to study. But at least he’ll be gentle, and wish you the best on your exam with a light kiss — an innocent kiss that lasts a bit too long, his hand always gracing your body as he reluctantly releases you, brushing off the saliva that linked your lips together — his good luck charm he’ll argue, a little tease of what he’ll reward you with later when you got home for being his good girl. 

Gojo will always try to convince, “Life isn’t always about studying, baby,” stating with a pout, after your fifth time canceling a date he’s planned to instead go on a simple walk outside your flat, “you gotta live life to the fullest! And why stress when you’ve snatched me?”

“Well, I can’t live life to the fullest if I don’t study now, Satoru. And who’s gonna pay for all that ice cream you eat? All the sweets you stock up on?”

“What do you mean?” Deadpanning as he stopped in his tracks, “you have me, what more else do you need? I'm a double threat — I’m rich and handsome.”

“Satoru — I… never mind,” rolling your eyes, as you were hit with his puppy eyes. 

“Just promise,” his tall frame blocking you, “that you’ll always stick with me.”

“I’m not a piece of gum to just stick onto you, Satoru,” pushing him away, only for him to reach out to delicately hold your hand, “You know, if you’re a gum, you’ll be the sweetest one.”

“Yea, why so?”

“Because every time I eat you, you taste so sweet,” he teased with a flirty wink, “if you get what I — ow!” 

Rubbing his forearm that barely hurt, Gojo loved to exaggerate when he was with you. 

For Gojo, things came easily for him, as if the universe highlighted his life as a thousand-year blessing, nothing was out of his reach — that is, nothing but you. 

Shocking to many, he pursued you first. When asked about how you guys met, or what’s the story behind you two, or even if no soul asked… he’ll blabber on with an outrageous story, saying he fell in love the moment he laid his eyes on you, that you were the apple of his eye — an over the top fanfiction of you and him of how he just knew you were the person for him when you stumbled into the library, arms full of books and coffee in the other, and you magically just happened to just bump into him. And if it wasn’t for that encounter, then he would’ve never gotten your number. 

And without your number, he wouldn’t have been able to woo you with his charm, he’ll always add with a wink.

“You can say it’s fate,” he’ll proclaim, “I never went to the library, you know,” as he munched on his icecream with Megumi and Tsumiki savoring theirs, both unbothered by the story he’s told them countless times, “and the one day I chose to follow Suguru because he was simping over someone, I get coffee spilled all over my clothes and meet her? Damn, the heavens just wanted us together.”

All you remember of that day was that your precious coffee went to waste, with your books embarrassingly spread out on the floor, and you were stuck having to dry clean his ridiculously expensive clothes. 

But with him, you experienced all your firsts.

Your first handholding — Satoru confidently took your hand, immediately interlocking his fingers with yours, his palms engulfing yours entirely, “don’t be scared baby, I’m not scared,” flexing his muscles as he proudly smiled,  “I’ll protect you!” as he leads you through the haunted mansion, jolting through every jump scare, absolutely refusing to scream. 

You remember his palms felt particularly clammy that day. 

Your first kiss — on a spring picnic as he laid on your lap, his eyes sparkling a little more than usual as he looked up at you, innocently asking, “can I kiss you?” 

Your first argument. Ignoring him for a whole week, only for your resolve to quickly break when Suguru urgently called you to his house stating that Satoru was deathly ill — dark circles under his eyes, cheeks frail from not eating, wrapped up in his blanket as he dramatically announced his dying wishes while sneaking obvious glances at you. 

Geto’s diagnosis: pure insanity. 

To your first cuddle buddy, to innocent make-out sessions, to wonton looks and lustful touches for more. leading to your first sexual experience, both unknowing and inexperienced as he groaned into your ear in the back of his car one rainy night as you struggled to take his girth.

He was your first taste of goodness — like a forbidden fruit, you increasingly wanted him more. In soul, mind, and body, you etched yourself into him, making the tear even more painful to rip apart. 

Sure, loving him was easy — but loving you, the version who was so lacking compared to him and insecure was hard.

You tried to ignore it, you did your best to brush off the insecurity that came with each day of choosing him. But having the message that you were worth less than he was being constantly blasted to your face — the blatant discrepancies between social classes and the nature of how you both grew up, to the constant side glances you’ll get wondering how someone so normal like you, got with such a high net worth — gradually, it all made you dissociate from him. 

So you worked even harder. You stayed up longer than anyone else just to get that better grade. You worked that extra shift just to prove that you were capable. You doused yourself in knowledge, yet tried to stay humble to be seemingly perfect… but in that, you unknowingly pushed him further away, losing parts of yourself while at it. 

And your final straw? It was a text message you accidentally read on his phone while he silently napped, cutely dozing off as you massaged his scalp.

From: Mom.

>> Remember the girl I talked to you about? Nitori-chan’s family requested that we set up a date for you two. The faster the better, no need for our families to meet, it’s all settled. 

To: Minako.

<< Let’s meet. When are you free, Minako? 

From: Minako.

>> Whenever! I can meet now!

>> Is this about our potential engagement?

To Minako.

<< Yea, let's meet tonight to talk about it.

You remembered, that night you couldn't reach him.

The final trigger that blew it over. The rambling of your thoughts paralyzes you from thinking rationally.

You didn’t need to search up who she was. Nitori Minako, the youngest daughter of Japan’s leading technology company that rivaled to that of America’s fruit. A girl that was a year younger than you — smart, adamantly cute, cunning and rich — always following him around a bit too closely for your liking, preaching about how “Gojo-san promised he’ll marry me when we were young! Isn’t that so cute?”

how long was this going on for? 

Has he always been going on secret dates like this? Was he always just willing to let it slide when you rejected his dates because he had other options?

Was he leading you on this whole time before he’ll leave you for what he rightfully deserved? 

Was all of this a lie? All of what he said?

The pinnacle of your sanity breaking as your thoughts became corrosive and brittle the more you dove deeper into the pitfalls of your insecurities — of course what people said was right, there was no way someone like him can settle for any less.

... Ultimately, everything led to you quietly blurting out as he rambled about his day. 

Playing with your hand, smiling like a loser as he intertwined your smaller fingers with his, “Geez, there was this jeweler that I wanted to take you to, but dammit, the store closed early today. Maybe we can go — ”

“Let’s break up,” you suddenly announced, looking straight ahead.

The room suddenly felt quiet, so quiet that the thumping of your heart felt like loud sirens blaring next to your eardrum, and your body felt numb. 

After a few seconds, Satoru stammered, “w-what?”

Sighing as you closed your eyes, “I said, let’s break up, we aren’t — ” you reiterated.

“I heard you the first time,” Gojo hissed, still playing with your fingers but his grip now harsher, “just wanted to make sure you weren’t bullshitting right now.”

“I’m not joking, Satoru,” your voice stripped of any emotion, “we aren’t good for eachother.”

“Says who?” the man challenged. 

“It’s something that’s been on my mind,” you responded back while trying to pull back your hand, “l-let go, Satoru, it hurts…”

“Is it because of the text?” Gojo refused to let go, even more so gripping even harder, “Fuck... I'm sorry I should've explained earlier," his voice pleading for you to listen.

"I swear nothing happened, and nothing will ever happen, b-baby look at me,” your boyfriend’s — now, ex-boyfriend's — voice elevating and shaking. 

“Gojo,” softly pausing after his name, “let’s end it when things aren’t so bad… I can’t have you hating me more when we have no other choice but to break up,” finally pushing his grip off, “it’s inevitable, we’ve been walking towards a destined finish line from the beginning, let’s just call it quits a little earlier.”

“no... you can't do this, you can't do this to me,” he vulnerably uttered, his body noticeably trembling as a tear dropped onto the back of your hand as he reached over to touch you, hoping it'll mend whatever hatred you had towards him, “you.. we promised,” his voice shaking.

“I’m sorry Gojo,” you dodged his grasp, “guess promises are only good if you can keep them, and I can’t.”

Days of him begging at the forefront of your door, crying as he asked for an explanation, his missed texts and calls that would go straight to voicemail, to Suguru stepping in to ask what the hell was going on… all leading you to cut off every aspect of Gojo Satoru out of your life, except Shoko.

After two years of dating, at the ripe age of 20, you experienced your first heartbreak with Gojo Satoru, marking the end of the final chapter of your love story with him. 

To you, he’ll be the greatest warmth you’ll ever experience. 

To him, you’ll be the heartless bitch that left him cold.

—-

“Hmm,” looking at your empty notifications, “guess she’s a little busy right now…” you hummed. Despite your outwardly calm demeanor and the stillness of the serene summer night, juxtaposed was your mind with wandering thoughts that wrecked havoc in your head. 

Shoko would update you occasionally about him, not going too far into details. You knew he was successful in his craft, excelling in it as he ranked 11th in Forbes 30 under 30 list, losing the tenth spot barely to a Zenin. It would be a lie if you weren’t curious about him, your mind wandering and weak during the quietest of nights, making a burner account to stalk his socials, only to immediately regret the moment you see photos and stories that presumably show that he’s in a relationship — with a gorgeous one in fact.

You’ve briefly heard of his dating history, hearing it from Shoko directly, as it mindlessly slipped through her tongue as she complained that he’s broken up with another girl. 

Throughout the years, you’ve concluded maybe this was your punishment for leaving him. Damnation to feel stuck in the same perpetual regret of hurting his heart, of choosing to look at your fears instead of maybe trusting in him. 

But, at least he looked happy. and you clung onto that reserve.

Maybe it was for the best that things happened this way  —

Your ears perked up as you heard the tapping of shoes coming towards you, your stomach suddenly dropping to the floor. 

“Were you planning on avoiding me the whole night?” 

You were sure, there was no denying that was his voice. 

Yes, it was a bit deeper from when you last heard it. The decibel of his voice is now infused with power and confidence, yet still with the underlying tone of softness from what you remembered. 

“Ah, sorry… how rude of me,” you mumbled, the pounding of your heart beating through your ribcage. You quickly placed an arm over your chest, a hand over your heart, doing anything to muffle the harsh pulsing, terrified that he was going to hear, “it’s been a while Gojo,” you offered him a light smile, “I’m sorry, but if you’ll excuse me Ieiri is waiting for me,” you tried excusing yourself only to be met with his stance unchanging, unmoving. 

You felt his eyes pierce into your skull, “Gojo?… ah that’s right,” his voice guarded as he looked over in another direction, his face pointing specifically elsewhere, the moonlight highlighting his perfect features.

“I think she’s pretty busy, don’t you think?” he shrugged.

Dammit she was your ride home. Guess coffee is on her for the next week. 

“Oh sorry,” you muttered under your breath.

Grinning as he licked his lips, “You’re awfully saying sorry a lot over nothing,” Gojo chuckled, “guess old habits die hard,” his last words spewed with a hint of bitterness as he clenched his jaws. 

Only to relax seconds later, placing his drink on the railing, softly grunting as he pulled off his jacket, and placed it over your shoulders, “It’s cold, don’t want you getting sick now,” the smell of his cologne filled up your lungs, hypnotizing your senses — a bit strong but nonetheless intoxicating.

You couldn’t help but feel guilty for feeling a sense of security from the weight of his heated jacket, and in response, you started to immediately pick at your thumbs. 

“It’s okay!” You tried to object, trying to take it off only to be met with a stern yet gentleness of his voice, his large hand stopping you, now calloused and thick yet the warmth of his palm brushing against your smaller one felt nostalgic and sinful, as your eyes immediately noticed a gold sparkle on his ring finger, “it’s fine. my body runs hot, remember?” 

“T-thank you,” you muttered, the harsh beatings of your heart quickly making your cheeks feel hot. 

A ring? you wondered.  

“So, what made you come today?” Gojo huffed as he looked off into the distance.

“Had no excuse not to come.”

“I see,” his voice deep, taking the last swig of his drink, deeply inhaling to release a long breath, “It’s good to see you though.”

“Yea, me too,” you quietly responded, the awkwardness of the conversation eating at your bones, the tightness of your stomach knotting increasingly more.

Laughing as he turned around, his long legs crossed, showing a bit of his socks peeking out of his slacks as his dress shoes reflected the moon's shine. Surely, they were expensive, probably equaled to a month of your rent on his feet. With his arms crossing his chest, leaning against the railing, the quiet winds brushing against his soft hair, lightly masking his cerulean eyes as he faced you, “Liar, you were always good at that.”

Taking you off guard, your eyes immediately connecting with his, your breath stopping as if a sudden load was pushed onto your chest, you felt a wave of sadness rush over you as you ventured into his empty eyes. 

Since when did he have that ring? 

Did he find someone at Paris? Shoko told me — no, there’s no way he found someone so soon.

Or maybe he’s trying to settle down —

“Are you happy?” His question brought you back into reality.

“What?” you whispered.

“I don’t think I’ve asked a hard question,” he responded, his voice now harsh and impatient, “I asked if you were happy.”

Your finger pricks at your thumb, “I guess so…”

Rolling his tongue against his teeth, his finger playing with his ring.   

Taking no regard for catering to your comfort, he jeered, “Why’d you do it?”

“What are you talking —” you stammered.

“You know damn well what I’m referring to,” Gojo spat. 

“Excuse me,” You muttered, your eyes refusing to disconnect despite your whole body fighting against it.

“I- I got to go, Ieiri is waiting —”

“No, you already used that excuse,” pulling you in by your wrist, immediately caging you in between his arms, with you now leaning against the railing, your eyes level to his broad chest — has he always been this big?

“Answer me, at least you can have the courtesy of honestly telling me why you left me like that eight years ago.”

“I don't remember,” you stated with eyes threatening to spill.

“Liar,” his body leaning down, the hurt in eyes even more apparent than before, “you’re a fucking liar,” Gojo spewed with no resolve to withhold a solid tear from falling, his face now dangerously close — lips even more threatening to touch.

All you wanted to do was say sorry, to cup his face and kiss his tears, to say it was a mistake that you’ve never intended to let him go — you selfishly tortured him by continuously keeping him in your heart without giving him a chance to prove you wrong. 

“I’m so sorry,” was all you could respond.

“Did you not trust me?” Hurt was apparent in his voice, “Was I that untrustworthy for you to just leave like that and just disappear for eight years?”

“No, no… it’s not like that,” you tried comforting, unknowingly placing your hands on his chest, “it was never like that.”

"then tell me why," he forced out through gritted teeth while furrowing his brows.

"I just thought it was for the best," you quietly whispered.

"you thought it would be for the best?" Gojo scoffed, "And how the hell did you come to a conclusion to just leave like that?"

" 'm sorry, Gojo... I - I truly am," you pleaded while clenching his shirt.

"You must've really enjoyed watching me beg huh," Gojo challenged, "absolutely thrived knowing this was all for my own good, right?" Gojo spat out his anger.

"It wasn't like that, i'm so sorry, I was hurting —"

“Stop fucking apologizing! you don't get to do that," His voice shattered the serene night. Chest heaving as he clenched onto the stone railing, "I didn’t go through shit these past eight years just to hear your selfish sorry's,” he stated with gritted teeth, as he threateningly moved even closer, “d-did you even love me?” 

“Yes, of course!” You immediately cupped his face, finally letting go of the years you craved his touch, your heart shattering as you felt him melt into your wicked hands.

“Then kiss me,” he suddenly whispered, the slight scent of alcohol mixed in with cologne altering your judgment.

“Y-your drunk, Gojo,” you pleaded, immediately letting go of his face as you tried to push him off.

His voice elevated, "Why not?" Gojo growled, "Like you said, it's not like you left because you didn't love me. Or are you lying about that too?"

“don’t make this hard, we — I can’t do this with you anymore,” guilt running through your veins as the image of his ring blared loudly in your head.

You couldn’t do this to another girl, he wasn’t yours anymore… 

“stop the bullshit,” Gojo growled before his lips slammed into yours, his large hands cupping your face, leaving you no room to run away. his tongue forced its way into your mouth, teeth painfully clashing yet you didn’t mind. because against your resolve, your arms immediately wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer to taste the sweetness of his saliva and feel the warmth of his tongue.

The groan of his voice vibrated against your lips, as his clothed hip bucked into your pelvis, his lips trailing down from yours to your neck, tongue sloppily trailing down with it as his hands wandered down to hold your hips.

“Tell me you missed me,” he moaned out as you gripped the ends of his hair,  his tongue teasing down your sweet spots, pecking kisses as he inhaled your scent.

“Say you loved me, I don't care anymore if it’s a lie,” your ex now pleaded, his hot breath heating your cheeks.

“… I love you,” you confessed.

Lowly laughing like a maniac, staring deep into your wanting eyes, the man whispered back, “aren't you fucking heartless.”

...

You don’t recall how you made it into the hotel room. In a moment your lips crashed with his on the balcony, and only a second later you found yourself with his large hand securely wrapped around yours, silently waiting for the elevator to bing on the twentieth floor as your ex-boyfriend led you into his hotel room.

Now, currently, you’re pressed against the wall, shoes thrown aside groaning with your hands tangled in his soft hair, as he hurriedly stripped you out of your dress, lips hungrily moving against each other as he growled into the kiss.

Though its been years, his touch never faltered from remembering your body — immediately tracing over your sweet spots that he’s located in your early twenties, now with more experience and strength he dove deeper in.

“Fuck, missed these beauties,” he groaned as he cupped your breasts, his thumb playing with your hardened nipples as he quickly released the back strap of your bra, promptly latching his lips onto your swollen ones again right before you released a moan.

Your body had a mind of its own. Fallen into sin, your hands unbuttoned his shirt, quickly revealing his toned, muscular build as your hands ran against his pecs. You felt his stomach flex as you started to unbuckle his belt and zip down his pants, his lips hungrily chasing after yours as he caressed your body, hands slipping down further into your inner thigh, his index starting to play with your swollen clit — his fingers have always been so pretty, especially with his ring

“G-gojo stop!” Your eyes immediately shoot open.

“What,” annoyed, the man hissed, looking into your eyes with his pupils dilated, hair absolutely disheveled, until moments later his lips are impatiently back onto yours again. 

“We.. we can’t,” you cried out as you melted in his touch, “y-your ring,” you gasped out, suffocating as he stripped you of oxygen.

“Ring?” he stopped for a brief moment, chuckling as he brought up his finger, “you worried about this?” he teased.

Intoxicated in his touch, you were willing to throw away your pride and dignity just for one night — one night can’t hurt, right? So you take the ounce of courage you had left, placing a tender kiss on his lips as a sign of surrender as you gently cupped his face, “take off your ring,” you whispered as you guilty looked away.

Chasing after your kiss, pushing you further into the room as you yelped at his force, your arms entangled around his neck and fingers around his hair as you tried to stabilize yourself, “I promise you it’s nothing, sweetheart,” he coaxed with his sharp canines flashing through his wickedly handsome smile. 

And running his lips against your chest, leaving small denture marks on your skin that forced moans out of you, with his pants now pooled at his ankles before shimming them off, his cock fully erect, unapologetically twitching in his briefs.

“For you, I guess,” Gojo hummed as he watched the thin line of spit that connected you both dissipate away, existing as a sign of proof of the situationship he currently had with you. 

Taking his ring off, he set it down near the bedside table, "there it's gone."

At least for this night, he was yours. 

You’ll repent for your sins, and receive any punishment the gods had to give you tomorrow, but today, you chose him.

And right now, you also chose to kneel in between his thighs, hooking your finger under his waistband to pull his briefs off. Satoru immediately lifted his hips to help you while releasing a sultry groan as he felt the cold air elope his sensitive tip. 

Was he always this thick? You remembered his cock being pretty, but also what the fuck were those two veins running down his shaft? And was he always this… groomed? 

“Are you just gonna stare at it… or do I need to use your mouth to get some action?” Satoru impatiently asked with his cock twitching, his finger brushing against your heated cheeks as he palmed his member.

“It’s just been awhile,” you murmured, licking your lips before you opened your mouth to have him enter.

“Fuck, " Satoru shuddered as the base of your tongue brushed against his frenulum.

"i must be dreaming,” Gojo murmured under his breath, your head rising up as you released his cock with pop! With your hot tongue swirling against his head, there was no chance for Satoru to stay strong. and you enjoyed every second of seeing him slowly unravel in your power.

“j-just like that,” he ordered while placing his hand on top of your head, guiding your momentum. 

His precum tasted salty but pleasant. Hell, he wasn’t even close to the other men you’ve been with, incomparable starting with the size of their dicks to his.

Hallowing your cheeks and expanding your throat to take in his shaft, with your hands gently playing with his balls, you felt his cock hit the back of your throat the moment you saw his head fling backwards, gasping as he pushed down his spit down his dry throat.

“You like that?” Gojo hissed as he bucked his hips into your warm crevice, “you missed my cock, angel?”

You honestly agreed, tears staining your vision with his length stuffed into your orifice, only to get a spiteful laugh in return, “well, guess that makes two of us,” he huffed while crowning over your body, pushing himself deeper into you, his stomach hitching as he groaned out your name.  

“Fuck this shit,” he moaned, as he urgently pulled himself out of your mouth, sacrificing his impeding release for abstinence. 

“You’re driving me crazy,” he gasped when your thumbs swirled around his pulsing head, “you always do,” he purred as he nibbled on your lower lip, promptly pulling you onto his lap, one hand straddling your waist while the other mounded your ass.

And looking up at you, with his blue eyes now darkened in full blown lust, his hot breath sending chills down your spine, “tell me what you want? I’ll give you anything.”

“Y-you,” you shamefully confessed, gasping as his cock grazed against your sensitive folds, your fingers gripping his shoulders as you started to grind against his length, “I want you inside me again, Satoru” you whispered into his ear, lightly moaning out his name.

“Shit,” Satoru croaked, pulling himself down as he gently released you to lay on the bed, “I dont have a condom,” he confessed as he gently kissed your cheeks, “ you gonna be okay without it?” he asked.

“Mhm, j-just hurry… please,” you murmured. 

“Good girl, now come here,” he coaxed as he placed a soft pillow under your head. 

Taking a brief moment to observe your face, reading any sign of forced emotion that you might try to hide, only to ease himself into the kiss when he feels you impatiently desiring his touch, “relax, baby,” he cooed as his kisses traveled southward.

Placing each delicate kiss on your body as his soft hair trailed behind, lightly tickling you as your thighs gently caged his waists into you, “you know they wanted me to thank you,” Gojo breathed out as he split your thighs open, settling himself in between your legs.

“W-who?” you whimpered as his calloused hands massaged your muscles, his soft lips easing out the tension boiling in your core while your hands immediately went straight to grip his hair.

Lips drawing closer, closer and closer until his breath knocked against the frame of your dripping cunt.

“God you’re so fucking wet,” blowing air onto your sensitive nerves, looking up to watch your body shiver at his power as he slid his finger down your folds, pushing in one finger, two, and eventually three into your tight hole as he watched you stretch, your viscous juice soon dripping down his forearm.

“They wanted me to thank you for how good I eat pussy now,” Gojo smirked before he took a swipe of his tongue against your womanhood, spreading out your cunt as he purposefully flicked his tongue against your clit, lightly sucking on the bud thereafter.

… 

How many times as it been, you wondered? More than once or twice, maybe four… five — you moaned out when you felt your legs hitching up to his shoulders, his cock hitting just at the right spots he remembered from years ago. 

“Angel,” Gojo huffed as sweat dripped down his temple, grunting as he felt your tight walls fluttering against his length at the call of his sweet pet name, “you have that much leisure to be thinking about something else when I’m fucking you?” 

Kissing your ankles, his pelvis showing you no mercy as his wet skin slapped against your ass, the sound and sultry smell of hot sex filtrating your room, “still so fucking tight,” Satoru grunted as he pushed his body onto you, your legs hooking against his shoulders, his strong arms holding you from under.

“G-gojo!” you rasped out, barely audible and inable to breathe from his heavy weight and humidity of the room, “it’s too deep! Slow down!”

Growling into your ear, his teeth nibbling against your earlobe, his hot breath stinging your face as he scoffed at your choice to call him so mundanely.

“you gonna be so impersonable,” his thrust going deeper, harder into you, “when I’m so deepily inside you?”

“Ngh,” gasping, “it’s too much,” you sobbed with his face planted into your neck, and his ass clenching with every push he drove into your gushy walls that still wrapped so perfectly around his — just like how he’s last felt you around him, just like how he’s molded your insides just for himself.

“You let anyone else fuck you?” He suddenly hissed, panting as he tried to catch his breath, the sweat on his back making it difficult for you to hold onto him, “you let anyone else see this side of you?”

“It’s too much —” you pleaded, avoiding his question.

“Answer me,” he lowly ordered.

Unable to withstand his power, absolutely willing to fold for him and his desires, you fastidiously nodded, “only a couple,” you shyly confessed.

"how many," he growled, disappointed in your answer, "how many fucked this."

"o-one or two, ngh I-I don't remember," you panted.

“One or two, you say,” he cooed as he pulsed his cock swiftly into you in rhythmic motions, satisfied seeing his length disappear inside you. his pace driving you to the brink of insanity as your lower belly started to fire up again as he knowingly pressed his palm down on your stomach.

“Then I gotta fuck you twice more to force out all memory you have of those stupid fucks,” grunting as he cupped your face to look at him, lips swollen with his skin marked by your nails, hips unapologetically thrusting into you as he watched you unravel in his lead, “because this pussy’s always been mine.”

Seven.

He’s definitely made you cum seven times. you remembered the count just before he groaned out your name, his thrusts sloppy and strained, gasping as he pulled you tighter into his embrace, face caved into your neck as he finally released his thick loads into your abused walls, sobbing out cursed moans as you held him, expending out every last ounce of energy you had for him in mere four words,

“I’ve always loved you,” you whispered before completely passing out. 

You failed to notice a tear fall from his eyes drop to your face. He hoped that it’ll stain you, wished it would reach all the way through to your heart to burn you. But he couldn't, so instead he carefully wiped it away as he gently kissed your face — inch by inch of your canvas before he chose to face you again.

“you’re so heartless,” Gojo chuckled as he pulled you in for a tight hug, straight into his chest as he laid beside you, refusing to pull out and have his cum spill onto the sheets — a feat he’s never dared to do with anyone else, he’s always fucked protected.

“what am I going to do with you," he breathed out.

"even with all this time, I’m still so weak for you,” he quietly confessed, reaching over to the side, reaching for his ring to put on the empty finger, before he too fell into the abyss of another dimension with you in his arms. 

—-

Lowly groaning as you opened your eyes, your body felt oddly heavy and aching, but yet warm and safe despite feeling on the absolutely verge of possibly snapping in half and breaking with any force.

Blinking a couple times before you started to register the room, you felt a slight huff next to your ear and the tightening around your waist as your back leaned against something hard.

Gojo Satoru, in all of his glory, was sleeping so soundly next you.

Carefully turning around to face him, you observed his features as you ran your fingers against his skin.

His lashes were still so long and soft, you giggled when Gojo twitched his nose at your touch.

His cheeks were still so smooth, without a spec of a blemish, but you can see the little bags under his eyes and the small creases on his skin. he’s probably tired from traveling.

Your finger travels down to his chiseled jaw, and defined collar bones, examining the light scratch marks on his pale skin, and the bruising of his nipple — wait… his lips are chapped and swollen, and his cock… oh god, his cock was brushing against your stomach — hard and pulsing. 

Immediately gasping, you felt the blood in your body drain at the revelation that you’ve fucked your ex — no, you fucked your ex of eight years, that you were still crazily hung up over that most likely had a girlfriend waiting for him to respond back to.  

Before you could think, your adrenaline pressed forward to act before your mind, immediately unlocking his hands from your naked waists, standing up too quickly only to stumble from your trembling legs. You felt something drip down your thighs — white viscous slowly running down your legs, your face heating up at the memory of last night. 

“I- I need to leave,” you whispered, quickly gathering your discarded clothes and undergarments as you rushed to the restroom, forcing down your whimpers as your sensitive cunt brushed against your thighs with every step you took.

“I can’t be here, t-this was a mistake,” you stammered while putting on your dress, quickly stuffing your used panties into your purse.

You looked like a mess, but it didn’t matter because you needed to get the hell out of there before he woke up, but somehow your feet didn’t move in the direction you wanted them to — out the door — but instead towards him unknowingly sleeping.

And quietly sitting against the edge of the bed, carefully pushing away the edges of his bangs that covered his handsome face, you decided to take a minute to absorb the last images of what you’ll have of him. And there you decided to let a tear or two drop from your eyes as you said your last goodbyes, gently kissing his lips before you made your way out the door, whispering, once again,

“I’m sorry…”

—- 

It’s been close to an hour since your walk of shame out the door. Since then you quickly checked out of your room and made your way out of the hotel. 

You immediately called for a taxi to get home, groaning as you were hit with the realities of your mistakes last night.

Treading up the stairs your legs quivered with every move. It's been a while since you've been fucked that hard, nor even had a partner that lasted so long.

You needed to text Shoko, you prayed that she didn’t blow through your notifications when you suddenly went missing last night. Sighing, you absentmindedly tried to find your phone in your bag as you punched in your door keys.

You started to think, maybe the whole fucking universe was now against you, for your sins, because your phone wasn’t in your purse.

You tried to retrace your steps to where you’d last used it as you made yourself over to your bed, stripping off your clothes as you walked over to the shower.

And to your last memory, you texted Ieiri out in the balcony… and then,

“Shit,” you hissed, remembering how your bag was tossed to the side when you were being feverishly stripped of your clothes, “it’s probably under his bed or something.”

“I hope no one calls… or tries to contact me until he leaves his room,” you groaned as the hot water massaged your tense shoulders while your fingers ran down your body.

Washing every crevice as you also tried to erase away the memory you had with him, you forced yourself to retract your tears. This was your punishment you repeated, this was the outcome of your selfishness. You lathered yourself in soap, trying to scrub away the pent-up guilt until you noticed something flash under the light.

You never wore your jewelry into the shower, you’ve always had a habit to take them off to not tarnish. 

But there was a golden ring, a ring that fits a little loosely on your promise finger.

Unable to understand why, all that circled through your mind was to go back.

Quickly washing off, throwing on any pair of clothes before running to your door, you could feel your anxious heart beating loudly in your chest as your ears started to feel plugged from the tension. And just when you’re about to open your door, you hear a buzz that silenced every chaos around you.

Looking through the peep hole, you felt faint, your heart entirely about to burst — is this reality or am i still dreaming?

“It’s me,” you heard his calm voice.

Your hands trembled as you slowly opened up the door, your eyes taking a moment to quickly scan his body — donning the same clothes as yesterday with the top buttons of his white shirt undone and ends stuffed into his slacks, his hair lightly messy and eyes a little sunken.

“How’d you get here?” you gasped with your ringed hand clenched, hidden behind your back, while the other pricked at your thumb.

“You left your phone in my room, and I found it because Ieiri was blowing up your phone," Satoru calmly stated as he handed over your phone, "so I asked where you lived to drop it off.”

“She didn’t say anything?” you warily asked

“Well, she did ask about us."

“And… did she threaten you or anything?”

“No, why would she? But,” stretching out his arms as he released groan, “I told her we fucked,” he boyishly smiled. 

Afraid to confront your messy rendezvous with him, you nervously bit your lips, and you avoided his gaze. Noticing your tendencies, you felt his hand cup your face to meet his while his thumb gently soothed your aching lip, "hey," he whispered, "don't do that."

And stepping closer to you, the mild fragrance of his shampoo dancing in your nostrils, “Did you see it?” he asked.

“Mhm,” you acknowledged, “I saw it just now while showering,” you looked into his eyes to seek an answer, tears starting to cloud your vision.

“You know, I’m not the same anymore,” he confessed, “I have power, I’m strong, and I’m able to do things now,” pressing a kiss onto your forehead, “but the only thing that stayed the same about me," chuckling as he shook his head — as if he couldn't even believe it himself.

"is that I didn’t change my number since we’ve broken up,” he stated before taking a step into your apartment, the click of his shoes hitting the tile floor echoing throughout the hallway, “I just hoped maybe one day you’ll call.”

"why?" you honestly questioned, unable to understand why he would choose to do that.

"I don't know," Satoru shrugged while pulling away, "guess I really tried to subconsciously manifest the we were fated to be bullshit that I preached."

“But that girl,” you quietly muttered while you unknowingly pouted when you saw his arms cross against his chest, the tightness of his sleeves about to burst from his muscles bulging.

“Girl… what girl?” Your comment took him aback.

“The one you were in Paris with,” your face feeling hot, embarrassed that you outed yourself for stalking him.

“You stalking me?” He chuckled while leaning against the wall, "it's not what you think," Gojo sighed as he pushed back his hair, "that girl, it was Suguru.”

Raising an eyebrow as he examined your expression, sighing as he saw the unbelief in your eyes, “Here look,” he commented while pulling out his phone to show you pictures, “we went for his art exhibition or some shit because his girl couldn’t make it with him.”

“B-but you came late to the reunion.”

“Yea, because I wasn't going to pull up looking mid when I needed to make you regret ever dumping me,” he joked while pinching your cheeks, "I didn't have plans on attending until that jerk sent me a photo of you," he shamelessly confessed.

“You’re stupid,” you grasped his hand to check his finger — ringless.

“But it was worth it, no? Got you to indirectly confess,” emphasizing his last few words, “that maybe you still love me."

"Whatever," you mumbled, "I said I loved you."

"fine by me," Satoru accepted, " but the fact is that you still think I’m hot, no? Or maybe you just missed my cock? ”

“You’re crazy,” you stated while wiping your tears.

“Yea, I know,” his gaze softens as he sees you playing with his fingers, your small ones wrapped around his.

“and this ring is too big for me,” you cried as you melted in his touch, his right thumb gently rubbing against your cheeks.

“That too, I know,” he smiled stepping closer into your house, and slowly closing the door behind him, “we’ll get another one together soon, only if you'll let me.”

"I'd like that," you whispered.

“I just couldn’t get it for us when you heartlessly broke up with me eight years ago," Satoru confessed while brushing the tip of his nose against yours.

“I’m so sorry Satoru,” you snuggled your face into his strong chest, his arms tightly wrapped around you, cooing as he steadied your breaths, “Shhh, it’s okay baby, it’s okay.”

“I’ve hurt you, I’m the one that caused all this,” you heaved as he pressed light kisses all over your face.

“Through everything,” kissing your swollen eyes, taking his time to savor your touch as his lips traveled their way back to its home, briefly kissing your ringed finger as he looked into your eyes. 

And sealing his final destination, he whispered before locking his lips with yours once more,

“I’ll always find you even if you run away because you’ll always be mine.”

author's comment: sheesh, I didn't expect this to get this long... but here it is! I wanted to write the typical exes-to-lovers trope, but I was stuck on the quote with Satoru teasing how his past partners wanted to thank the reader for teaching him how to eat pussy... and here we are over 9k words later.... oh wells

again, i hope you enjoyed it!!

p.s. i might just have one exes to lovers in the drafts for geto, as well.... hahahahaha but you didn't hear that from me, nope (,:

[startanewdream]

In which James and Lily Potter fall in love, defeat a dark lord, and rebuild the world (and how only one of these is true).

She joins him in silence; James pours one glass for himself, drinks it in one long gulp before pouring another, this time serving her as well. Lily plays with her glass; she should drink it, but, instead, she finds herself watching his lips, the light coming from the fireplace reflecting on the drops of whisky in his mouth. Not for the first time, she flashes back to the kiss they didn’t share.

Lily downs her drink in one go.

“Did you find it?” James asks, his voice barely a whisper. Under Lily’s gaze, he chuckles. “An answer. My dad used to say I would never find any answer at the bottom of a glass.”

Chapter 3/4

[arts-and-drafts]

Come Morning Light (Part 10)

Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five / Part Six / Part Seven / Part Eight / Part Nine

(We made it!! It's Part 10!!!! Holy shit!! This chapter was a bitch to write but I think it turned out pretty good! Grian stans come get your juice :) Heed the warnings on this one! It's getting real!)

CWs: Extreme violence, graphic depictions of injury, death

-

It took everything Grian had to not fly as fast as he physically could to the shopping district.

He had to stay in line with a handful of his fellow hermits, chosen to scope out the shopping district and lead Dream away to the rendezvous point if they found him. Until then, they were sent in to douse the fire, and try their best to secure the shops' goods. A lot of work went into those resources, and they would be weakened both financially and materially if it all burned.

That was the excuse they were given, anyway. Grian knew that in truth, the plan had changed. If all they were doing was damage control, Xisuma wouldn't have sent Hermitcraft's best fighters (sans False and Iskall, who were told to remain behind to recover), to handle it. Besides, resources could always be replenished, however annoying it was to do so.

Dream set their shops ablaze on purpose. They were flying towards a fight.

Heat blasted Grian's face in a wave as they passed over the outskirts of the fire, and his stomach dropped as he witnessed the many shops that were already completely obliterated. PyroTeknics, Monster's Brew, Grian's own Barge--anything that could burn was reduced to ash, and the fire kept going. Grian nearly wept at the sorry sight of Scar's once-beautiful diamond crested trees that lined the road to the Town Hall, now charred to stumps. It made Grian's stomach clench in anger.

Nearly everything was built of flammable materials because there was no threat of fire, before now. How did that change? How powerful had Dream become, in a server where he should've had none?

Grian was violently ripped from his thoughts as Etho cried out, and the avian turned just in time to see his friend plummet from the sky with a flaming arrow in his icy elytra wing.

"ETHO!" Grian and Stress yelled out in unison, both unable to dive quick enough to catch their fallen friend.

Etho hit the beautiful basalt road at the foot of the rules board with a terrible CRACK, and all of his items exploded outwards as everyone's communicator buzzed.

[Etho was doomed to fall by Dream]

"Finally," came the voice from False's elytra shop, horribly, triumphantly smug.

Grian's blood went cold.

"He's here!!"

Grian held back as the team scattered, Jevin and Stress rushing forward as Scar and xB flew off to get a better scope with their bows. Grian watched for an opening as Dream deftly blocked Jevin's sword and swiped his leg under Stress', nearly making her topple off the thin platform in the sky.

Stress bared her teeth, now razor sharp, and raised her sword, but Dream took that small moment of vulnerability to slice at her unprotected stomach. Stress screamed, her delicate wings spasming horribly as she jerked away, and her foot finally slipped off the thin platform. The flames flashed brighter, and Grian couldn't move fast enough.

[stressmonster101 was burnt to a crisp whilst fighting Dream]

Jevin took that moment to jump and swing his sword for a critical hit while Dream's back was turned with a yell of outrage.

Dream grunted in pain as Jevin's blade actually hit, and green blood seemed to glow neon on the slime's sword as the flames surrounding them found the woolen llama mascot of The Spitz. Dream whipped around faster than any of the hermits could predict, and nearly severed Jevin's arm from the rest of him with a terrible SQUELCH.

Jevin opened his mouth to scream, but he never got the chance.

[iJevin was slain by Dream using Nightmare]

Two arrows whizzed past Grian's head as he wavered in the air, utterly shocked at the efficiency and speed in which Dream took two hermits out. Both projectiles stuck into Dream's back, catching the cloth of his hoodie alight with enchanted fire.

And Dream finally screamed, his yell of pain just barely toned with a sudden fear. He was low on health.

Grian saw his opening.

With a single beat of his mighty wings, Grian shot towards Dream like a vengeful bullet. The invader barely turned towards him in time to be slammed into and pitched into the flames.

Dream landed hard, flashing red with damage as his clumsy stolen wings did nothing to catch him in time. Grian, landing on his feet, was already on top of him, and he ripped Scar's elytra off of Dream's back with a single movement.

"These don't belong to you," he growled, relishing in Dream's body language as he scrambled to his feet and equipped his chestplate. He was scared, for a reason both remembered vividly.

It was a game the first time Grian killed Dream. He was not playing now.

"You jumped me last time," Dream panted, the sheer arrogance in his words making Grian's blood boil hotter than the flames surrounding them. Dream just killed two of his friends in front of his eyes, and here he was defending his loss from moons ago as if Grian gave a single damn about how powerful Dream really was right now.

"Round two." Grian uttered, and he charged.

Dream barely threw up his axe handle in time to block Grian's sword, and the avian was never so angry that Dream covered his face then at this moment. He wanted to see the fear he knew was there. He wanted to know Dream was just as scared as all of his friends were when he cut them down.

His imagination would have to be enough.

Grian beat his wings, sending flames swirling into the sky as they glowed brighter with the oxygen. The temperature rose significantly, but Grian barely felt it.

He kicked Dream in the midsection while his arms were occupied, and the god reeled back from the force, hissing in pain as he couldn't stop fast enough to avoid the walls of fire that now surrounded them.

"Wait--wait!" Dream stammered, summoning a golden carrot with one hand and desperately holding out the other, like his pleas alone would be enough to stop Grian's advance.

He wasn't feeling merciful today, but he hesitated for Tommy. Remember the plan. He couldn't kill Dream, he had to lead him to Xisuma so they could get rid of him for good.

The plan said nothing about roughing Dream up a bit, though.

Grian stalked forward and sliced upwards, barely missing Dream's arm as the invader dodged out of the way. Grian didn't stop moving, stabbing at Dream's chest when he got too close to swing again.

The blow was strong enough to make Dream grunt, even if it barely dented his armor, and that in itself seemed to finally get Dream to start defending himself.

Dream swiped his axe blade up at Grian's head, and the avian jumped back to avoid it. Even if Dream was scared, his movement was still lightning-quick, the attack as precise as it was deadly.

The split second that Grian paused allowed Dream to eat, but the avian used that moment to charge forward. There was no fair fighting here.

Grian body slammed Dream sword-first, thrusting the god into the fire. Dream choked down a scream as the smell of burnt flesh and cloth punctured through the acrid smoke. Dream switched his axe out for a water bucket, but in dousing the flames at his feet, Grian was able to advance yet again.

Dream jumped away at the last moment, skirting the flames at his heels before using his momentum to rush forward. Grian threw up his blade to block the attack, and enchantments clashed once again with a rippling shockwave of magic, the impact alone enough to make Grian's feathers stand on end.

He could tell Dream was getting the better of his nerves the longer they fought. But for every axe swing, Grian responded with three more of his sword. They were matched in viciousness, but Grian was an unstoppable force. The flurry of blades became their entire reality.

Grian barely felt the wounds Dream desperately inflicted on his exposed chest and arms. His heartbeat drowned out the roar of the blazing fire all around them. His lungs burned just as fiercely as the flames containing them, but Grian did not stop.

His thoughts devolved into single-minded fury. Slice. Stab. Charge. Swipe. Kill. Kill. Kill. K̸I̷L̸L̴.̷

Ǵ̵̣̭̗͎í̴̦͈̖̥̇̋̅̈́͊̚v̷̩̗͂̾̓̍̋̚̚e̷̼͌̀̌͠͝ ̸̡͔̜̫̙̫̳̤̜̖̑͆͒̈́́͌̓͆͠u̸̜͌̎̑͗̍̏͛̂͗͊̚s̶͙̩̲̮͔̞͍̗͊͋̂̅͂͒̈́́̓͊̚ ̶̜͓̎̔̅͠a̶͇̰͖͘ͅ ̴̧̣̺̃͗͆̕s̴̯̣̮̅̀̀̋́̅̀h̸̖̹͚̫̪̬̙̥̿̋̍͂̈́̆͑̓̏͜͝o̵͚͕̥̖̿̉͂̿̀ẉ̴̞̹̥͈̼̥̻̲̤͌͒̒̅̆̾͋̾̏��

And then Grian stopped, all the rage inside his mind and soul instantly snuffed out. He numbly raised his hand to the arrow in his throat.

[Grian was slain by GoodTimeWithScar]

-

Scar lowered his bow from the roof of the Town Hall, letting out a practiced breath. He saw the bloodied green figure that was Dream carefully move forward and start going through Grian's stuff, and his chest tightened with sorrow.

He'd only seen Grian like that once before, in a hazy memory of sand and explosions and blood. He knew killing Grian was the only way to snap him out of it. If Scar didn't intervene, Dream would've died, and it would have all been for nothing. All of their friends would've died in vain.

He had to keep telling himself that.

It was for the greater good.

Scar pulled his mouth into a thin line and opened his communicator with a heavy heart.