#I'll Be The Wings That Keep Your Heart In The Clouds

[gingerbreadcities]

Favourite line: You Be The Anchor That Keeps My Feet On The Ground, I'll Be The Wings That Keep Your Heart In The Clouds, Mayday Parade

[tomsmusictaste]

it has to be said

[ask-sebastian]

A few more slower favourites of mine, honestly I could probably submit the entire PTV discography if I wanted to, but I will spare you all 😅

If there was ever a day to not spare us, today is that day.

[spirits-having-flown]

“matthew, it is with heavy heart i say goodbye. the times we had together are honestly among the favorite times of my life. it was an honor to share the stage with you and to call you my friend. i will always smile when i think of you and i’ll never forget you. never. spread your wings and fly brother, you’re finally free. much love. and i guess you’re keeping the 20 bucks you owe me.” - matt leblanc

“i am so grateful for every moment i had with you matty and i miss you every day. when you work with someone as closely as i did with matthew, there are thousands of moments i wish i could share. for now here's one of my favorites. to give a little backstory, chandler and monica were supposed to have a one night fling in london. but because of the audience's reaction, it became the beginning of their love story. in this scene, before we started rolling, he whispered a funny line for me to say. he often did things like that. he was funny and he was kind. 🤍🕊️" - courteney cox

“oh boy this one has cut deep... having to say goodbye to our matty has been an insane wave of emotions that i've never experienced before. we all experience loss at some point in our lives. loss of life or loss of love. being able to really sit in this grief allows you to feel the moments of joy and gratitude for having loved someone that deep. and we loved him deeply. he was such a part of our dna. we were always the 6 of us. this was a chosen family that forever changed the course of who we were and what our path was going to be. for matty, he knew he loved to make people laugh. as he said himself, if he didn't hear the 'laugh' he thought he was going to die. his life literally depended on it. and boy did he succeed in doing just that. he made all of us laugh. and laugh hard. in the last couple weeks, i've been pouring over our texts to one another. laughing and crying then laughing again. i'll keep them forever and ever. i found one text that he sent me out of nowhere one day. it says it all. matty, i love you so much and i know you are now completely at peace and out of any pain. i talk to you every day... sometimes i can almost hear you saying "could you BE any crazier?" rest little brother. you always made my day... ❤️🕊️” - jennifer aniston

“matty, thank you for ten incredible years of laughter and creativity. i will never forget your impeccable comic timing and delivery. you could take a straight line of dialogue and bend it to your will, resulting in something so entirely original and unexpectedly funny it still astonishes. and you had heart. which you were generous with, and shared with us, so we could create a family out of six strangers. this photo is from one of my favorite moments with you. now it makes me smile and grieve at the same time. i imagine you up there, somewhere, in the same white suit, hands in your pockets, looking around— "Could there BE any more clouds?” “ - david schwimmer

“shot the pilot, friends like us, got picked up then immediately, we were at the nbc upfronts. then... you suggested we play poker and made it so much fun while we initially bonded. thank you for that. thank you for making me laugh so hard at something you said, that my muscles ached, and tears poured down my face every day. thank you for your open heart in a six way relationship that required compromise. and a lot of "talking." thank you for showing up at work when you weren't well and then, being completely brilliant. thank you for the best 10 years a person gets to have. thank you for trusting me. thank you for all I learned about grace and love through knowing you. thank you for the time i got to have with you, matthew.” - lisa kudrow

friends cast remembers matthew perry 🤍🕊️

[w3irdo666]

Hi! I wasn't sure if you were accepting requests at the moment

but can I get (romantic) Alastor x Lucifer's ex Seraphim Angel wife who he left plz?

S/o eventually left Heaven and still got to keep their wings and powers before it got taken. They meet him around the time he got to Hell and they hit it off

Anything else is up to you if you'd like

Oh, interesting idea!! I'll try my best, love youuu!! (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)

The Drug In Me Is You

Alastor x Fem!reader x ex!Lucifer

Letter count:

Tags: slightly angst, sfw, slightly possesive behaviour, depression.

Notes: I hope i understood you right!!! Enjoy!!

Lucifer was a wonderful husband.. Constantly enveloped you in love. It seemed to you that you could not dream of anything more. Romantic dates, beautiful clothes, oh, you thought that you would drown in his care.... Which is what happened. Lucifer was undoubtedly magnificent a man...But not a great husband...When you got married, your joy knew no bounds...but...

A year later, you began to notice that he began to pay less attention to you. In the evening, he no longer went to you to cuddle in bed, but just turned his back to you and fell asleep.When you wanted to hug him, threw your hand away and answered annoyed, “Leave me alone.”

One day you were walking through a magnificent garden in paradise. The beauty of nature has always delighted you. Oh, these magnificent scarlet roses.. They look so fragile that it seems that if you touch them, they will fall into small pieces... Birds sang and flew in the sky .Everything was so wonderful, you even forgot about your husband for a while...But suddenly you heard someone’s voice. Your wings trembled slightly, not expecting that someone would be there. You came closer to the source of the sound and, hiding behind a tree, looked whose it was a voice...

Your heart skipped a beat and you felt tears running down your cheeks, like blades piercing your skin.Lucifer stood with another woman. His smile....he had not smiled as much as he smiled at this woman for a long time.You were hurt, terribly. He betrayed you. You were on the verge of hysterics. Turning around, you ran away, sobbing and wiping your tears with your hands.

Everything around you seemed so fake. These light clouds. Birds, flowers, plants. You flapped your three wings and quickly flew. Where? You didn’t know, but it certainly wasn’t where you were flying from.

..............................................................................................................

The next few days were a blur. You felt terrible, you suffered. Lucifer, betrayed you? You couldn’t accept it. When Lucifer was kicked out of Heaven because he got involved with a demon, you didn’t care anymore. You used to be a very joyful archangel. Everyone called you a ray of sunshine. But now... There were black bags under your eyes because of lack of sleep. Your eyes are red, tear-stained. Your condition was immediately noticed by other angels.

“Y/n, honey, are you okay....?” One day an archangel turned to you, concerned about your condition. But she was only met with a few rude words. This alerted her. Soon the angels began to avoid you. The archangels thought about making a decision about your expulsion. But before they could do anything, you expelled yourself. Having opened the portal, you descended into hell. “If I suffer here... It won’t be worse there..” You thought.

Unfortunately, you were wrong. A few days later, you sat curled up in a ball in some alley of hell. Your clothes were torn in some places, your wings were tattered, you felt emptier than an empty glass.Your tired eyes were closed. Your face was buried in your knees. You were so tired that you didn’t even have the strength to cry. Suddenly, you heard someone’s voice. It felt like someone was talking on the radio.

"What are you doing here, dear.With those...wings.Aren't you supposed to be in heaven?" His static voice sounded confident.

You raised your head slightly and opened your eyes. You saw a strange sinner in front of you... He was different from many of those you saw here. He was dressed in a beautiful fitted red suit, his black bow tie was beautifully attached to his shirt. He had a big smile on his face, showing his yellow, sharp teeth. His eyes were calm, but you could see a slight mockery in them.He had black gloves on his hands, and in one of his hands he held a red microphone on a stick.

"W...what do you want...?" You asked in a quiet, pitiful voice. You heard him laugh slightly.

"Ah, nothing important, dear, just curious what such.... creature..like you doing here?" He tilted his head to the side with slight -crack-.

"Who are you...?" You said weakly

"Ah, name's Alastor.Pleasure to meeting you! Quite a pleasure!" He bowed while saying this. You didn't say anything, only looked down at the ground. He continued watching you for few seconds then walked closer to you, standing in front of you.

Alastor couldn't help, but when he saw you, something woke up in him.He was in hell only few month, but still made reputation of dangerous cruel demon.But when he saw your poor, beautiful body, his heart skipped a beat. He felt a strange pull to protect you.

"Such an innocent soul..." he thought

............................................................................................................

You didn't know how it happened, but you find yourself in....his apartment...? With Alastor in front of you.There was a cup of tea in front of you. You looked at your reflection in the tea. You looked terrible. Shabby dirty hair, tired face...The demon continued to look at you, drinking his coffee. His smile never fell, you didn’t even care.

Your weak hand reached for the cup of tea. Fragile fingers clasped the handle of the tea, but your hands were too weak to lift the cup. Alastor noticed this and his eyes narrowed slightly. He put his cup on the saucer. Crossing his legs, he leaned back, watching you.

No matter how he tried to find pleasure in your suffering and raise the cup, he did not feel good. He felt sympathy for you, and a desire to protect. He slowly stood up and approached you.His beautiful long fingers took a cup of tea from your hand and brought the cup to your lips. Slightly surprised by such actions, you looked at the demon.

Opening your lips slightly, you started drinking tea with small sips.

After tea and some food (Alastor feed you too) Alastor showed you way to the bathroom, you needed it.You looked like complete mess.Alastor provided you with a towel, after which you went into the bathroom.When you came out of the bath, prepared clothes were waiting for you... Or rather, a shirt and pants...

When you were changing clothes, Alastor came into the room. He was amazed by your beauty. Your hair.. your smooth skin... Ah, those beautiful wings... He felt his pulse increase.His smile and eyes began to give off shades of warmth.

..............................................................................................................

You lived with Alastor for a long time.You became very close, you started to feel better. Every evening, over a cup of tea, he listened to your worries and sufferings... Usually he would have enjoyed this, but with you, he only felt the desire to calm you down. Every day spent with Alastor gave you more strength, and made you forget Lucifer.

In a hell full of lustful sinners and murderers, you have found comfort in a dangerous demon.No, he wasn't just a demon for you, Alastor, this soul..When he woke up in the evening because of your sobs in the next room, he would sigh and get up heading towards you. When he approaches you, he will lie down next to you and hug you. He hates touching.... But for you he will do anything.He would kill for a feeling of your wings wrap around him when you relax after telling him what bothering you.

When the angels officially kicked you out of heaven, you didn't care so much anymore.You cared only about one thing...only about one person...only about Alastor.

........................................................................................................

"Alastor, where are we?" You asked as you looked around.You were in some kind of garden. Although the flowers were not as luxurious as in heaven, life was visible in them... They looked so bewitching.Alastor coughed and turned away from you. You looked at him in surprise, not understanding his behavior.

"Alastor...?" You almost reached with your hand to his shoulder, but he quickly turned to you.

"Y/n.." Alastor began. His smile was on his face as usual, but you saw the uncertainty in his eyes when he turned to you with one black rose in his hand.You lowered your hand. Oh, how beautiful this rose was... Like an angel of death...

"yes..?"

"i....love you." He extended his hand with the rose towards you. His other hand was tightly gripping his microphone. Your cheeks turned slightly red due to the blush. You felt your heart beating faster and as if butterflies were fluttering in your stomach.He turned his head away, looking away.Without wasting a second, you grabbed his wrist with one hand and turned his face in your direction with the other. Alastor tensed at the contact, but when he felt your soft, plump lips on his, he almost melted.

He closed his eyes, enjoying the kiss. His arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you closer to him. You parted your lips slightly, allowing his tongue to penetrate. You let out a slight moan as your tongues intertwined.

After a few seconds, you pulled away each other. from each other and looked into each other's eyes. You smiled. Your cheeks were flushed with blush, but you were happy to think about it.

"I love you too."

Notes: I hope you liked it!!! Sorry that i didn't lost for a while (⁠￣⁠ヘ⁠￣⁠;⁠)

[hellcat8908]

A Solstice To Heal Azriel x Reader

This is Part Two to A Solstice To Forget

Warnings: slight previous trauma in the form of a nightmare

The snow crunched under Rhys's boots as he ran towards your body. You were cold to the touch, and he couldn't tell if you were breathing. He pressed his ear to your chest, feeling relieved to hear your heartbeat. It was barely audible and fairly weak, but it was still there. That was all the hope he needed before picking you up and winnowing you back to Velaris. Azriel took in the sight of you as Rhys ran towards your room.

Madja quickly set about trying to bring you back. The first thing she did was remove your wet clothes, taking note of the scars on your back as she checked you for injuries. The only condition she was able to treat you for was hypothermia from the cold. She wasn't able to determine what had caused you to collapse in the snow. The fire was going strong in the fireplace, and you were buried under blankets to bring your body temperature up. She stepped out once your heart beat became stronger and continued to improve. "She is resting, which is what she needs most. Her heartbeat is improving, which is a good sign." She says, updating Rhys and Azriel as they were waiting outside the room.

"Do you know how long before she'll regain consciousness?" Azriel asked. "I'm not sure. There is more to her condition besides hypothermia, and without knowing what it is, I can't give you accurate diagnoses of recovery time." Madja tells him sympathetically. "Do you know when she lost her wings?" Madja asks. Azriel and Rhys share a confused look. "Her wings? " Rhys says. "She never said anything about her wings." Rhys says as he goes over every conversation with you in his mind. Azriel doing the same and coming up empty with you, never mentioning them.

"The healer's who tended to her did an impressive job, but she still has the scars. They don't seem like an old injury if i had to guess, I'd say, the last few years." Madja said. "I've done everything I can for now. If her condition worsens, don't hesitate to send for me. "Try to keep her stress to a minimum once she's awake as we don't know what caused her initial collapse." Rhys and Azriel assure her they'll take care of you and call if they need her. Madja takes her leave. "How come she never told us?" Azriel asks. "Maybe she isn't ready to talk about it. Especially if it only happened within the last few years." Rhys said.

"Go home to Feyre and get some rest. I'll keep watching her and let you know if she wakes up." Azriel says. "Be sure to reach out if you need anything." Rhys says, giving Azriel's shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "I will." Azriel says before gently opening your and shutting it once he's inside. He pulls a chair from the corner of the room and sits beside the bed. He takes in your face, noticing the soft smile on your lips. He starts wondering what you're thinking about. He pulls an extra blanket over himself as he settles in to keep watch over you.

You were lost in the darkness before finding your way back into the light. You were standing beside the lake, feeling soft grass under your bare feet and the warmth of the sun on your face. Suddenly, you realized the warmth not just on your face but on your wings as well. You spread them wide, taking in the beauty of them as the sun shone on them. You quickly took off into the sky, soaring across it with the birds. You swooped down and dragged your fingers along the top of the water. You cherished the feeling of it.

Suddenly, storm clouds moved in with loud crashing of thunder and lightning. In an instant, you were crashing into the ground, your hands bloody as you held your wings. Your beautiful dream had quickly turned into a cruel nightmare. The thunder became your ex's laugh as he watched from the sky as your wings turned to ash in your hands. You fought to wake up, but the weight of your mind kept you under.

Azriel watched your face contort to pain and fear. He gently held your face as his thumbs brushed away your tears. "You're safe with me, I'll never let anyone hurt you again. Please come back to me, to us. We need you." He said softly, watching as you slowly relaxed into his touch. He continued to keep an eye on you, holding your hand. Eventually, the tiredness caught up with him, so his shadows watched over you while he slept.

You were sitting along the shoreline skipping stones like when you were a child. Your thoughts had turned to your found family and the look of hurt and fear on Azriel's face as you had run from the house of wind. You wish you could find him and apologize. You were thinking about how he went out of his way to try to include you but never forced you to feel obligated. He was patient with you, especially when you first started working with him. Suddenly, you felt a pull in your chest. Grasping at it, you find a golden thread leading off into the distance.

You stand and gently trail your fingers along the thread as you begin to follow it. The thread feels comforting and warm, driving you to find out where it leads. You pick up the pace, practically running towards what's on the other end of the thread. "Where are you taking me?" You ask out loud. It almost seems to answer "home." You stop and linger. "Home is not somewhere I wish to be ever again." You state. The thread seems to call you to keep going. You hesitate. A wave of comfort and longing glides along the thread, causing your feet to move again.

You come to the edge of the darkness and see a hazy image. You struggle to make it out. Your eyes squint, trying to bring it into focus. The thread leads to someone sleeping in a chair. Your eyes widen, not just someone, Azriel. Your heart pounds loudly in your ears as tears fall from your eyes. You firmly grasp the golden thread and tug on it. You watch as Azriel wakes up grasping his chest before his attention turns to you. You watch as he brushes the stray hairs from your sleeping face.

"I'm here, Angel. Just keep tugging on that bond. Let it lead you back to me. I have so many things I didn't get to tell you and so many memories I want to make with you." He continues to gently stroke your cheek with his thumb. "Everyone is worried about you and can't wait to see you." He continues. You feel a rush of love coming over at his words. You take the leap and hope Azriel is ready to catch you. Your eyes slowly flutter open as you blink from the bright sunlight coming through your window. Azriel's shadows quickly close the curtain for you. "Welcome back," Azriel says. "You gave us quite the scare."

"How long was I out?" You ask, your throat dry. "Overnight and most of the day." He answers as he hands you a glass of tea the house made for you. "What happened?" You ask as everything seems fuzzy. "You left, and Rhys found you unconcious at some burnt down village in the mountains." Your eyes flash with panic before you feel Azriel's hand on yours. "Angel, you need to try to remain calm." He says softly. "I'm sorry for pushing you to say goodbye to everyone, I didn't realize how you were feeling." He apologizes. "It wasn't saying goodbye to everyone that triggered this." You say motioning towards yourself.you notice you're practically naked under the blankets.

"Azriel, where are my clothes?" You ask, trying not to freak out. "Madja undressed you to get the soaked clothes off of you. "I'll step out so you can dress, I'm sorry I wasn't thinking." Azriel says. "Can you stay and maybe help me? Just pass me my undergarments first. He hands them to you after grabbing them from your dresser. You put them on under the blankets before stepping out of bed. "I just want a pair of leggings and a loose shirt." You tell him before he helps you step into the leggings. Then he helps you into a basic black shirt. "I need to tell everyone something. Do you think you can get them for me? Maybe we can gather in the dining room?"  You ask. "You need to rest. Resting is more important than anything else."

You let out a sigh, "a compromise, I'll rest for 30 minutes, then we gather everyone." You tell him confidently. "Two hours of rest." He counters. "One hour." You respond. "Deal," He says, "by the way, I would've gone 45 minutes." He says with a smirk. You glare at him, only causing his smile to widen. "Anyone ever tell you you're cute when you're mad?" He asks as you settle back under the blankets. "Aww, the spymaster thinks I'm cute." You tease. "Are we going to talk about this?" Azriel asks. "About you thinking I'm cute or that I'm your mate?" You ask nervously. "That we're mates."

"We'll have to eventually." You admit. "It didn't snap for me until today, before I woke up." He looks at you curiously. "It snapped while I was asleep or inconcious. It actually helped lead me back to here." You say feeling a bit embarrassed. "How long have you known about the bond?" You quickly change topic. "Since the day at the river house." He says, "I've always felt a pull towards you. I just couldn't explain it." He smiles as his thumb gently strokes the back of your hand. "Would you accept the bond?" He asks. "Yes." You answer without hesitation. "I want to wait til after you hear what I have to tell everyone before you make a decision, though." You continue.

"Nothing you say will change how I feel about you." He says confidently as he pulls your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of it. Your heart melts at the gesture. "I hope you're right." You say with a smile. "Alright, times up, start gathering everyone." You announce. He laughs. "You still have 10 more minutes of rest. Don't make me add more time to it." He says with a gentle laugh. "By the time everyone gets here, the 10 minutes will be up." You respond. "Angel, everyone is already here. They've been waiting since Rhys brought you home. Last night." He says as he brushes the stray strands of hair from your face.

"Azriel, please." You almost plead. "Am I such bad company you can't wait to see the others?" He asks, feigning fake offense. "You know I didn't mean it like that." You say as you squeeze his hand. "Alright, Rhys is moving everyone to the dining room for you." He says before offering a hand to help you out of bed. He keeps a hand hovering around you in case you need help as he walks with you towards the dining room. "Are you sure about this?" He asks as you hear the voices from the dining room. "Yes, I'm sure. I figured this was easier than telling everyone individually." You answer with some nervousness in your voice. "I'm right here if you need me." Azriel says, giving you a reassuring smile.

~☆~☆~☆~☆~☆~

@kalulakunundrum

@sh4nn

@lees-chaotic-brain

[lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom]

Familiar Faces

Tech x Reader

Summary- Techs death was not a reality you were ready for, you relied so much on his love. After months of grief, you find he might not actually be dead.

A/N- SPOILERS FOR TBB SEASON 3 EP 7. I know nothing is confirmed about Tech, but watching this newest episode has got my brain working overtime with fic ideas!

Word Count- 2,708

The cart creaked across the rail line, sending shivers down your spine. There wasn't much keeping all of you up. Inches from falling thousands of feet to your death. The clouds didn't help either, you couldn't see anything.

You fired away, missing most of the time. Everything was happening so fast. A mission gone wrong. Your thoughts were stopped by Hunter's yelling.

"Three ships inbound!" He informs, even when you saw nothing in the sky- you trusted him. He knew better than any of you.

Shortly you heard them coming, the roar of the engines were loud. Soon followed by it's blaster's shaking the cart.

"Tech we need power!" Hunter commands. You work on pure adrenaline and fire at the ships closing in.

One of them is shot down, but not before it knocks out one of the support hooks. You feel the ground shift down, leaning.

Like a breath of fresh air, you hear Tech's voice. Him yelling back "Echo, Now!" was enough to calm you.

"We're online!" Echo retorts. You can't help your grin rising. Finally, things were looking up.

Though, you didn't need Hunter to tell you three more ships were headed your way.

"Tech, hurry." You called out.

You and Omega blasted at one of the new ships, effectively destroying its wing. It crashed down in a black smoke.

From this black smoke a fourth ship came. It was too quick- it shot at Tech, who was still running towards you. He gave a yelp as he fell off the support beam.

Your eyes widened as you gasped, body craning to try and see him. He had a hard landing, but was standing to his feet on the falling compartment of the cart.

It rumbled and shook, about to crash down.

You ran to the back of the cart, trying to get closer. "Tech!" You watched in horror as he tripped back with the rest of the detached pieces.

His grappling hook barely caught onto a stray metal piece. His body bounced back at the tension. "Don't move! I'll pull you up." You tried to reach his line, but it seemed impossible without everyone toppling over into the abyss.

"I-I can't reach!" You called over comms.

"I will climb up, do not risk falling over." You nodded at this, forgetting he couldn't see you. He was more worried for you than himself.

"Come on Tech, hurry!" Wrecker booms, coming over to see what the status was.

You could feel Tech roll his eyes, "I am climbing as fast as I can!"

His grunts break your heart, he panted as he tried to pull himself up. Storm troopers still fired all around you. One of the blast forcing Tech to fall even further.

"Tech!" This time it came from Omega. Your heart was beating too fast to think and speak. You were so worried.

"Why aren't we moving?" Hunter asks Echo. "The cart is being ripped from the back."

The very cart Tech was holding on to for dear life.

You frantically looked to Hunter. "Wrecker, get him on board!" He instructs.

"No, you're too big." You push past Wrecker to take a step on the falling cart.

It creaked loudly, almost giving out. "NO! Don't!" Tech yells up at you. Your eyes connect through the ripped metal. "Any shift in weight could send both of these carts over."

Incoming ships shoot at Techs line, he dropped down again.

"You must sever the connection hinge. Now!" Tech says.

Your face falls. "Are you crazy! No, you'll go over!" Tears welled up in your eyes. There had to be another way.

Another creak and shift. You were almost thrown over by the rocking.

Tech gave out a heavy sigh. This time he spoke gentle, saying your name. "There is no time..."

"Tech, please no!" You begged. He pulled out his blaster, not looking away from you. He was going to sever the connection himself.

"No!" You screamed, desperate. Your tears were falling faster than ever.

"Plan 99... I love you" He started. With a deep breath you yelled, "Don't you dare!"

"You can't! Please!" You sobbed, still trying to get closer. You heard Wrecker straining behind you, he was trying to hold the falling cart up.

"When have we ever followed orders?"

A shot rang out, he fell.

A piercing scream erupted. You almost didn't recognize that it was your own.

Your instincts kicked in and you tried to leap down, like you could still save him somehow. Wrecker was too fast and caught you, his arm throwing you back into the safe cart.

"No, NO let me go!" You tried to fight off Wrecker, but he was far too strong. He pinned you down easily.

You were hysterical, arms wailing at anyone who kept you from jumping after him. Later, when you were thinking straight- you'd thank them.

"He's gone, he's gone!" You sobbed out, devastated. Your screams filled the air, shocking a few storm troopers close by.

Echo wired the cart to start moving and get everybody to safety.

That was months ago. Just the thought could bring you to tears. You had lost everything you felt the reason to live for. He was your everything. His incompetence for social queues, his punctual speech, his stupidly intelligent brain. All of it was yours, and now it was all gone.

A deep depression fell over you, the only thing driving you was Hunter and Wrecker. They inspired you how hard they fought for Omega. It warmed your heart in your worst times.

It hurt immensely when you heard his name, but it got easier to get out of bed. It got easier to smile again.

Eventually, you reconnected with Omega and started defending Crosshair. Something that was typically Tech's job... You knew you had to take on more responsibilities and make up for the time you were down.

You constantly wondered if Tech would be proud of you.

You and the rest of The Batch found yourselves helping Rex, then... escaping with Rex. An enemy assassin leading the Empire to us.

The nine of you hurried down a secret passage way, to a leach vessel.

The soft clicks of the steps soothed you in some wicked way, even when everyone was running for their lives.

"Stop!" Crosshair yelled out. You turned to look at him, he took a few steps back to look out a carved hole in the stone. "They are coming..."

Just then, a shot rang out. Another assassin hung from the inner walls.

Crosshair ducked behind the wall, "Go, I'll handle it."

The rest of the squad moved down, but you stayed. "I'll help."

That was until you peaked around the hole, getting a glimpse of the man. A rush a deja vu consumed you. Your breath quickened. Why was this man so familiar?

You pushed it down, you had already let your feelings get the best of you too many times. It can't happen again. You fired at him, Crosshair backing you up.

Crosshair put an explosive at the end of his shotgun, catching the man off guard. It threw him off the wall. The two of you headed to the ship.

A blast to the ship sent all of you crashing down. You briefly heard Rex sending Echo a message about an extraction.

Commotion ensued, but it all ended with you falling and getting a bad headache. Your helmet did not do much to cushion the hit.

The rest of the team was briefly recovering from the crash as well, but you had to get a move on.

"We've got attack shuttles inbound." Hunter noted.

"This way." Rex lead.

You traveled on foot in the woods, trying to lose the storm troopers. Fighting them off was light work. One however, stood out from the rest.

Crosshair proved your suspicions when he frantically turned around, gun raised.

"What is it?" Hunter questioned. He got his answer when the assassin shot at us.

With our numbers down and the assassin having the upper hand, Crosshair suggested "I'll draw his fire out. Get to the rendezvous."

You heard Omegas small voice through comms, "I don't like that idea..."

"Too bad." He responds, already crouched behind a rock to fire.

Looking at Omegas worried gaze, "Go, I'll make sure he doesn't get himself killed."

Omega nods at you, then joins Hunter's side. Crosshair just grunts in acknowledgement.

In truth, Crosshair didn't need you. Though, you both knew that Omega needed the peace of you fighting with him. Two verses one had much better odds.

You heard Rex commanding the rest of the squad to move out. You and Crosshair pursued the assassin.

He gave out hand signals, letting you know he was above you. You nodded, sneaking around.

The assassin saw you easily, perfect. He was distracted just enough for Crosshair to get a hit on him, knocking his balance off.

Your face dropped when the assassin recovered in record time, it was like he hadn't even been hit. He now caught you by surprise when he shot at your hand, you lost your weapon. Damn. All you had left was a blade, which you now grasped.

To your dismay, Crosshair had already taunted the assassin away from you. No doubt on purpose.

It took you a minute to find them, Crosshair had followed him to a waterfall. One with rapids at the bottom. The booming of the current was distracting.

You crouched down, keeping a low profile. Crosshair and the assassin fought vigorously. When you saw an opportunity, you jumped.

You tried to get your blade around his neck or at least cut his suit. The assassin was stunned for a second, giving Crosshair time to recover.

The man disarmed you, overpowering you in strength. You fell back with a thud, your helmet flying off. You scrambled to stand, but was forced to stay down because of a stray blast. It just missed your head.

The assassin seemed to know every single move Crosshair made. Like, he had studied Crosshair's fighting technique multiple ways, There was only one man who you knew did that, and he was dead.

The stranger knocked Crosshair to his knees, a gun to his head.

The man now looked to you, ready to dispose of you as well.

You sat up, but did nothing to fight back- fear of him shooting Crosshair.

He however, stopped in his tracks. You just stared, confused. He looked to you, maybe in disbelief?

He, not moving his gaze, stunned Crosshair. You were in shock that he didn't kill him... The thud of Crosshairs body made you jump.

You slowly rose to your feet, you somehow didn't feel threatened by the man anymore.

Now that you stepped closer to him, he stepped back. He seemed to be fighting with himself... Throwing his blaster as far as he could away.

His hands moved to grip the sides of his head, in pain. He stumbled back, head barred down. With a loud 'thud' he fell on his rear.

He scratched at his helmet, trying to take it off. Something inside of him wouldn't let him. He was in turmoil with himself.

Did you feel pity for the man? You slightly shook your head, baffled at what you saw. He was so vulnerable now, you should have killed him for what he did to Crosshair. At least Stun him.

You couldn't find it in yourself. He looked so confused with himself, so conflicted. Your heart wrenched, but why?

Your own actions shocked you, stepping closer to him. You lowered yourself to your knees, inches away. You were skeptical but determined.

He stopped his frantic movements when your hands moved to his head. He let you do as you pleased, frozen in place.

You kept your eyes on him as you gently lifted his helmet. You only got it up enough to see the mans eyes, a deep brown. That and his face structure was enough to tell you who it was.

The face you spent hours drooling over, embarrassing stares caught at, nights laying with. The very face you saw fall thousands of feet down to a cloudy abyss.

You gasped loudly, scrambling back. No, NO. It wasn't him. It couldn't be him...

Your reaction seemed to have broken him out of his haze. His helmet fell back down, covering his face. He, almost instinctively, moved to you. You were too shocked to fight back. He swiftly grabbed your wrist, pulling you up.

The grip was tight, you winced. The man realized his mistake immediately and loosened the grip. if he wanted to kill you, why was he worried about your wrist?

When you were sitting back up, the man reclined on his knees. He slowly moved his hands up to the helmet again, this time with more control.

He raised it completely off. It was him.

Both hands moved to cover your gaping mouth. How? HOW?

"T-Tech?" You called out, voice cracking.

He squinted his eyes and had one hand holding the side of his head in pain.

"You must take Crosshair and run, now." He ended by saying you name desperately.

"W-what? No, I am not leaving you. Tech, what happened? How are you alive!" You leaned to him, wanting nothing more than to hold and kiss him.

He moved back, your touch like fire.

"You have to go. I do not know how much longer I can hold off the chip. I do not want to hurt you." He looked at the ground, ashamed.

"You won't. I know you won't..." You moved closer again, resting a hand over his. You slowly moved it off of his head, holding it. He breathed hard.

"Any better?" You ask. "Yes, I would suspect my will to keep you safe overrided the new chip the Empire has put in my head." You smiled, finally leaning forward to hold him.

The second your arms wrapped around him, you sobbed. It all felt like a dream- well, nightmare.

"I thought you were dead... Tech, oh my Tech." He hugged back, petting your hair. You both frantically proclaimed 'I love you's.' But, he soon pulled away.

"I will not put you at risk any longer." He moved to stand up,

"I just got you back, why are you leaving me?" You couldn't understand.

He stood up, saying your name in a whisper. "I thought I made it clear. My new inhibitor chip is stronger. I am assigned to kill you. I do not want to do such a thing, ever."

"Tech, just please come with me. Rex is with us, he can help remove this one. Just like the others..." You grabbed onto his arm, pleading. How did he expect you to walk away, leave him behind. Especially when you just figured out he was alive.

"I suppose that might work..." He rested a hand to his chin, thinking. More tears flowed from your eyes, he was exactly how he was before. Always calm, always thinking everything through with a steady heart beat.

You looked up at him. "Please, I need you. I-"

"I know. I need you too. I uh- I apologize for shooting you." He said as-a-matter-of-factly.

Your eyebrows furrowed, "You didn't mean to.." You leaned up to kiss him, but something switched in him.

His face twisted and turned, he stepped back. He was fighting himself again, now a hand reached for his blaster. He looked up, face cold and blank. He pointed the gun at your face.

"Tech, Tech, it's just me!" He didn't care, he had a mission to fulfill. The chip was regaining control.

Suddenly, his body quivered and shook. He fell to the ground. Crosshair stood behind.

"Please don't kill him!" You ran to him, making sure he was aware of the situation.

"I know, his chip... I'll carry him back. Rex can look at him." You were hopeful, he was coming home.

It would be a rocky start, but he was alive. He was alive and half-conscious. That was a problem for when you got back on the ship.

For just a second, watching Crosshair hoist Tech up, you relaxed. The pounding of the water on rocks soothed you.

He was alive...

A/N- Thank you so much for reading! I hated the ending, sorry ya'll had to go through that. I didn't know how to end it! I was so motivated with this plot, then kind of lost it. Expect a Crosshair fic this weekend!!!

Tags- (LMK if you want to be tagged as well!) @thethreeeyed-raven @knight-of-flowerss

[bimobuddy]

Wings

I'm back :]

SFW Hazbin tk fic

Lee!Lucifer, lers: basically everyone else

CW: God is a character in this, however I'll try not to refer to him by name, in case that makes anyone uncomfortable. Also Swearing.

The God I have in mind is similar to (but not exactly) that fan-design with the four floating eyes, look it up, it's great. I am making my own design of him though that I might post if y'all want me to. He's a total dad in this btw, I wanted something fluffy and comforting.

Summary: it's just various moments throughout Lucifer's life when he's had his wings tickled

"Lucifer, darling- Hold still! .. Shi- Darn."

He sighed, watching his youngest son half-fly-half-scramble away. Sure he was -The- Father, but he was still -A- father. And right now he was trying to catch one of his most difficult children to preen his wings. Luckily, Lucifer couldn't get very far with his wings still being small and mostly soft downy feathers. And being a very predictable child, his father knew exactly where he was going.

The deity left the palace and headed out toward the garden. It was still a work in progress, not quite ready for earth yet, so while he worked on it, he kept it in Heaven for his children to play in. Lucifer loved it, especially for a certain animal he had recently been allowed to create.

And sure enough, the youngest angel was by the pond, laying on his tummy, gleefully watching the ducks. His father shook his head in amusement. "Lucifer-" He started, but before he could finish, the child squeaked and jumped up, trying to run again. However his father was quicker, easily approaching him in just two steps and scooping him up.

"I believe we were in the middle of something, son?" He said, shifting his hold on Lucifer to carry him in one arm. The young angel pouted. "No thank you." He said, earning a laugh from his father. "I know it tickles, but it needs to be done. You're growing out of your baby-feathers, and soon you'll have big-kid feathers growing in, and you want them growing in neatly right?"

Lucifer frowned, as if really thinking about it. Finally he nodded. "Yes." His father nodded in return, "Good. Let's get started then." He took a moment to sit down in the grass, knowing his son would just run off again when they were done.

As he started to gently run his fingers through his son's wings, he winced a little when a shrill squeal rang out. How can something so small and sweet make such an aggressively loud noise? He couldn't help but chuckle as Lucifer frantically flapped all six of his little wings, trying to get away, giggling his heart out.

Soon enough, they were done. The second the deity pulled his hands up and released his son, Lucifer was off, running back to the pond, where a couple of his brothers were. The father thought it was sweet until Lucifer tackled one of them for getting to close to 'his' ducks.

He sighed and went to separate them. "Kids will be kids, I suppose."

- - -

Lucifer flew through the clouds as if his life depended on it. "Come back here, Luci-Loo!" Came the voice of his older brother, Michael.

The teenager took a sudden, sharp dive toward the lake, hoping to lose his brothers. Yet again, it was preening season. Their father had since given up on Lucifer the moment he really learned how to fly, and left that job to his older brothers, who were better at keeping up with him.

As he approached the ground, he angled his wings to pull up at the last second. By the sound of a loud splash, followed by the voice of Uriel yelling after him, he knew his trick had worked, even if just on one brother. He glanced behind him to see both Michael and Gabriel still hot on his trail.

What he was not expecting, however, was to almost crash into his eldest brother, Raphael. He flapped his right wings to turn, but due to his speed, he just narrowly avoided his brother and crashed into the ground.

Raphael sighed, "Seriously, Lucifer? You're 116 and still running from preening? Honestly, you're acting like a fledgling, just sit still for it."

Lucifer was about to argue, only to be very violently tackled at high speed by his immediate older brother, Gabriel, so hard it left a dent in the grass from where they skidded. Michael landed next to them. "Nice going, Gabe, now his wings are even dirtier." He said, though his face clearly showed amusement.

The two youngest brothers wrestled on the ground for a bit, Lucifer desperately trying to get away while grinning in anticipation, and Gabriel trying to pin him face-down so his wings were accessible.

Raphael crossed his arms, though a slight hint of amusement played on his own face. "Lucifer, is it really that bad?" "YES! MICHAEL'S MEAN ABOUT IT!" The eldest turned to Michael, grinning a little. "Are you mean about it?" "Maybe just a little. I learned from Azrael after all." He said, elbowing Raphael before sitting on the back of Lucifer's legs.

Gabriel had Lucifer face-down, sitting in front of him while he held his arms down, knowing the youngest was a fighter. Producing a comb, Michael got started, using his left hand to hold a single wing down while his right ran the comb through Lucifer's feathers.

Immediately, his other five wings started to flap rapidly, a couple even hitting Michael square in the face by accident. The poor angel was squeaking in a poor effort to not laugh.

Raphael rolled his eyes and decided to help. He sat down and pushed all sets of wings down, holding them in place. "Alright, Michael, hurry up, you know the longer this goes on, the harder he's going to come after us, when this is over."

Knowing this was true, Michael got started, running the comb through his feathers once again. Lucifer snorted and practically exploded with loud, bubbly laughter. "NAHAHAHA! NOHOHO! FFF-" "Don't curse," Raphael warned. "I WAHASN'T GOHOING TO!"

"Liar." Gabriel grinned, holding his wrists down with one hand, using the other to gently scritch at his ribs, causing Lucifer to screech and bury his face into the ground. Raphael gave his brother a look. "Don't overwhelm him, Gabriel, his wings are bad enough already. You know he's had trouble breathing in the past with you two taking it too far."

Gabriel stopped, looking back at Michael. "I would have stayed in my room if I knew Raph was going to take us on a guilt-trip." He grumbled, earning a laugh from Michael.

Once they had gotten his wings fully preened and combed out, all three sat back and let him up. Lucifer lay there panting, still giggling occasionally. Raphael reached out to pat him on the head, as he usually did with his brothers after a preening, only to be stopped when Lucifer suddenly sat up.

"You all have five minutes to run and hide."

Alarmed, all three took off.

- - -

Lucifer lay there, in the arms of his wife, solemnly looking up at the pentagram sky that separated him from all he had ever known. Lilith could only imagine how hard it was for him to be cast out and separated from his family and childhood home. She hadn't had a family or a childhood to miss. But as far as she was concerned, Lucifer was her family now, and she hated seeing him in so much emotional pain.

She ran a comforting hand down his back, between his wings, only to be startled as he sharply inhaled and flinched. She pulled her hand away quickly, "I'm sorry, are you hurt?" She asked, easily lifting him under the arms to look at him (which really flustered the short angel.)

"No, no, darling, I'm not hurt, it just.. it tickled." He said. As Lilith set him back down in her lap, he blushed and looked down. "You can...." He looked back up at her, "You can keep going... If you want to, that is.. My brothers used to do it.. I guess it's comforting in a way."

Lilith smiled softly, running her hand through his hair, loving the way he leaned into it. "Alright, my love." She whispered, gentle hands returning to his wings. Lucifer laid back down in her lap, arms around her waist, as his wings twitched and lightly fluttered, giggles flowing from him like music.

Maybe eternity like this wouldn't be so bad after all.

- - -

That morning in the Hotel had been complete chaos. It started with Charlie chasing Vaggie around, having discovered her wings were ticklish. The girls continued to play for nearly an hour before Charlie finally got her girlfriend tapping out.

The princess easily scooped up her angel and kissed her cheek, while said angel was practically pouting. "It's not fair, I'm a soldier, I'm not supposed to have such a weakness. Imagine if someone outside the hotel found out-" Vaggie didn't get very far before Charlie set her down. "Oh come on, it's okay that you have tickwy wittle wings~" She teased, causing her girlfriend to blush.

"Besides, the Devil himself is way worse, watch." She grinned, looking over at a very startled Lucifer who had apparently overheard everything. As Charlie ran at him, he spread his wings and flew upward to jump over her. The more his daughter chased after him, the more he turned it into a game, because of course he would.

Everytime Charlie got close, Lucifer would laugh and leap out of the way, even jumping off the walls to keep out of reach. "You're gonna have to try harder than thAAT!?" He yelped, feeling something wrap around his ankle and yank him to the floor. When he got a good look at it, he saw it was one of Alastor's shadows.

"Oh come on, you fucking-" "Oh, I do apologize, your highness, but I can't have you getting your disgusting shoe prints on my walls." Alastor grinned, clearly enjoying the scene before him.

Lucifer was about to snap back, but was cut off by Charlie sitting on top of him, immediately burying her fingers into his wings, causing the devil to shriek, a couple of his wings beating the floor. He had forgotten how ruthless his daughter was.

"C-CHAHAHAHARILIE!"

"See, Vaggie, even the king of Hell has ticklish wings, it's completely fine that you do too." Charlie said casually, as if she weren't absolutely wrecking said king.

Lucifer's laughter shot up an octive as he felt those damned shadow tendrils burying themselves under his feathers under all six wings. He started kicking his feet against the floor and trying to push Charlie's evil hands away.

"FAHAHAHAHACK! FUHUCK OFF, BAMB- NOHOHOHO WAITWAITWAHAIT!" Lucifer squealed like a child as he felt another shadow emerge underneath him, swiping at his spine. right between his shoulder blades. All six wings furiously beat at the floor in an attempt to get those tendrils away from him, but it didn't work.

Charlie grinned, gently scritching right into the 'wing pits' of his middle set of wings, having been told by her mother that it kills him. And sure enough, the king practically screamed. His legs stopped kicking and his wings stopped beating as he could only lay there and take it, laughing loudly.

It wasn't until his face got red that she stopped. And it wasn't until Charlie stopped that Alastor did as well. He personally would have kept going, but he figured Charlie would have his head if he pushed her father any further.

Lucifer panted heavily, unable to stop himself from giggling, a little loopy from it all. He looked up at Charlie. "G-Grohounded." Charlie grinned, "You can't ground me, I'm an adult." Lucifer shook his head, "Nuh-uh."

She got off of him and helped him up. Alastor came over and 'innocently' placed a hand on Lucifer's back as a 'friendly gesture,' resulting in the angel snapping his wings shut and de-summoning them.

And being one for revenge, Lucifer lunged at the radio demon, starting the cat-and-mouse game all over again.

[mournings-stars]

little songbird

part 2 (prelude) to my orpheus and eurydice angst fic "doubt comes in" — i'm not entirely certain i'll make this a full fic but if yall like it i might end up adding another part (would still be a prelude since part 1 is technically the end unless anyone requests a spin-off-esque addition)

part 3 (prelude pt. 2) part 4 (prelude pt. 3) part 5/finale (semi-alt ending)

includes: heaven lucifer ofc, a little lore, some blending of greek mythology, i don't think there are any warnings besides fluff and luci is a hopless romantic but also the relationship is ambiguous right now, still dramatic just dramatic greek fluff (also I made angels have golden blush because they have gold blood)

When you first met Lucifer, you’d just finished your duties on Earth and were going to come back to celebrate. As a Virtue, your job was to persuade the seasons into change — you sang a melody you’d taken from nature itself, soaring over the clouds and riding the winds until autumn fell over the world and you went back home until nature needed your persuasive help once more. 

But as you were going up, he was coming down. You came face to face, stopping each of you in your tracks. 

You’d heard of him, of course; Lucifer, the Morning Star, with his wondrous creations and unattainable dreams, but you never thought you’d see him in person — it always seemed like he was too busy working to ever come down to Earth. 

Yet here he was. 

You moved out of his way. “Sorry. I didn’t see you coming.”

“No worries at all.” He gave you a very charming smile, making you smile back reflexively. He took off his hat, tufts of blond hair falling in his face as he took your hand, bowing as his wings lifted him higher. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Humility.” He kissed the back of your hand and your small smile broadened. “I can’t believe we haven’t met yet.”

“You know who I am?” 

“Of course.” He pulled a blooming purple flower from his lapel, twirling it in his fingers. “You’re the one that made this.”

You didn’t know what to say, heart thumping against your ribcage with a swell of pride that he, a Seraph — and not just any Seraph — Lucifer, knew and coveted the small flowers you made blossom in a world that was filled with bigger, much more beautiful things. 

“I collect a new one every spring,” he continued, watching your reaction with a smile that he couldn’t help. Your eyes widened, hand gripping his without realizing you were even still holding it. “I came to collect a few of your golden leaves this time.”

“My leaves?” Was all you could think to say as your wings and heart fluttered with pride. You quickly dropped his hand when you felt your wings behind you, suddenly very aware of his presence and gaze. “I didn’t paint the leaves.”

“No, but you persuade nature to make them,” he laughed, tucking the stem of the flower into your hair as he did. “Who knew Humility would be so humble.”

“It is my virtue,” you said quietly, taking his hand to stop him from fussing with the flower he gave back to you. You opened his palm, brushing your hand over it. His wings fluttered the same as yours. “But thank you for your kindness, Lucifer.”

“Honesty,” he corrected as a golden leaf appeared in his hand, shimmering in the light. He stuck it into his lapel, where the flower had been, and grinned. “Such a generous gift and I don’t even know your true name.” You laughed at his tone, hinting for you to keep talking to him just as you were going to leave, and properly introduced yourself. “It suits you,” he said, “someone who creates this beauty,” he deliberately didn’t look at the scenery, “should have that beautiful of a name.”

“Aren’t you kind,” you said with a raised brow, knowing he was flattering you; calling you beautiful without outright saying it, you could easily pick up on his intentions. 

“Too kind for your liking?”

“I didn’t mean it like that!” You said quickly. “I was only joking—“

“I know!” He laughed, soothing your sudden embarrassment with a zealous, maybe overly so, hand on your cheek. “Who knew an Angel of Virtue would be so virtuous,” he joked again, laughing and stroking your cheek with his thumb before he dropped his hand. He was certainly overzealous, but you couldn’t say you minded it. “I should stop teasing you — go on, I’m sure you have important work to do—“

“Your work is far more important than mine,” you blurted, then wanted to slap yourself across the face. “I mean, my work isn’t any more important than yours — I’m sure you have more important things to do—“ he continued to let you put your foot in your mouth, watching you try to make sense of your words with a doting smile and fluttering wings. “—I mean, if you’re staying, I can stay, too—“

“You want to stay with me?” He concluded with a grin and you blanked, shaking your head at yourself as a golden glow dusted your cheeks. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he laughed, knowing teasing a Virtue like this was both cruel and profane, “if you’d like to stay, please do… but if you have work to do, I’m sure we’ll meet again.”

You looked around, thinking that perhaps nature could use a little more of a push toward fall. The winds could be a little sharper, and the grass a little duller. 

“I’ve always wanted to hear your song,” Lucifer said, seeing the wheels turn in your mind and taking his chances. “If you think Earth could use a bit more help…”

You thought for just a moment longer before offering your hand to him. “You can help if you’d like.” He took your hand, and you rose higher above the clouds, listening closely for the soft melody that nature sang, before flying in the direction the wind took you and singing…

A simple melody. It was a song you knew well; there were no words or swells to make you know what came next, just an endless melody that the winds would sing as they carried the seasons through Earth.

And Lucifer knew just what to sing along, bringing the endless melody a harmony that made it feel so complete. He guided you beneath the clouds so you could see how the seasons changed — and then it came;

Summer rain. 

A tell-tale sign that your duty was complete, though it always came some time after you left. Now, you got to experience the misty rain and watch as animals came out to play. 

Lucifer laughed, wings going over the two of you to shield you from the rain. “Look at that…” He peeked between a pair of wings, reveling in the beauty you’d created together. “As usual,” he said, “a job well done.”

The next time you met was at the Season’s Celebration in The Garden. It was moved a week later to celebrate the summer rain, but it was a quarterly tradition. The other Virtues brought their specialties, but the highlight of the festivities were the heavenly spirits distilled by Charity and Chastity; not a single angel came without taking a bottle for themself. 

Cherubim played music, Seraphim danced, and the Ophanim made an appearance when they could, but the center of attention was on the seven Virtues and their drunk, lively dancing and cheering. 

The seven of you danced in a circle, glasses raised in the air with a flush of gold on each of your faces as you sang along jovially. 

The celebration lasted all day and night, animals coming to join you as wildflowers surrounded the seven of you. Butterflies, chipmunks, rabbits, and the like came out of hiding for a last experience before hibernation and migration. Birds came down from the sky, one in particular flitting around the circle and each of the Virtues before finally stopping in front of you. Pale yellow with red cheeks, tweeting at you until one of your fellow Virtues spoke. “It wants you to sing!” They laughed drunkenly, taking another sip from their glass. “We should all sing,” said another as you let the bird perch on your hand. 

It was the song of nymphs, muses, and winds; a sirenic song that each of you knew well. The plants in The Garden blossomed bigger and bigger and the bird in your hand flew to the middle of your circle before a cloud of white puffed around it. 

“Oh, it is you!” Laughed Chastity as Lucifer appeared, laughing along and twirling her as she said, “I didn't think you’d ever come to one of these.”

“How could I resist after such a beautiful change in the seasons?” He said cheerfully. “You lovely Virtues have outdone yourselves this year.” He then laughed, turning to Chastity, “and It’s always nice to see such heavenly creatures so drunk.”

“Flattery gets you nowhere,” said Temperance. 

“Certainly not with you,” said Lucifer and Temperance laughed at his jesting, the rest of them seeming to understand much more than you did, how to take teasing like his. 

“Flattery gets you everywhere,” insisted Chastity, and Diligence and Kindness laughed like they’d never heard anything funnier. “What’s so funny!?”

As the other Virtues started a loud, joking conversation, you met Lucifer’s eyes. He smiled, then looked at the music still being played and went to you. “Shall we?” He offered you his hand, wings fluttering behind him and making that same shimmering gold wash over your cheeks. It made him smile as you took his hand. 

“Patience is a much better dancer than I am,” you said as he led you to an open area. 

“But I want to dance with you.” And the moment your own wings fluttered behind you, he knew you just wanted him to confirm that. “Maybe you’re not as humble as I thought,” he whispered, making sure no other angel heard his taunts. He then changed the topic, hand reaching up to brush across your cheek. “You kept my gift.” 

“Of course I did.” You took his hand, using it to twirl under his arm as his wings lifted him higher than you. Yoy gave a very playful smile. “A gift from a Seraph should be coveted.”

“Oh, I see,” he laughed, shaking his head at you and your teasing. “You misunderstood me.”

“Did I?”

He nodded, a small half-smile on his face. “I wasn’t returning your flower as a ‘gift from a Seraph’—“

“You weren’t?”

“No, and you know that. That’s why you gave one back.” You laughed, a coy look on your face that made him shake his head as you looked at the golden leaf he still had stuck to his lapel. 

The two of you danced with all of Heaven watching as you spun, flew, and swayed to the music. He didn’t overstep, and he wasn’t overly forward with his gestures, but he was deliberate. He held you against him, but did it gently. He held your hand, but made sure you put your hand in his first. He lifted you with a smile and met you in the air, leading you back down as others joined in. 

Their laughter and chatting made it so that your conversation was much more private, giving Lucifer the chance to whisper, “How many gifts do I need to give you before you do understand?”

You hummed in thought. “I haven’t decided yet.”

But Lucifer had decided, since the moment he experienced your first time changing the seasons, he was going to love you; however you ended up loving him — a friend, a colleague, he didn’t care as long as it meant that he knew you. He didn’t even expect anything from you. You’d done enough; your ways of changing the seasons brought him out of his cold and lonely workplace that he’d never realized was so cold and lonely until he experienced your summers and springs; filled with warmth and community. Angels never ventured to Earth so often before you, and he could easily understand why. 

How someone could take on the job of multiple angels and the outcome be something so much more beautiful than he’d ever seen, he had no idea, but he was in awe every time he saw your humble work. He’d watch from Heaven, seeing the way you did things. It was the same as any other, but you didn’t indulge in pride as you did it. You did it for the good of the Earth, rather than bestowing a gift. 

He held the utmost respect for you. 

Though, Sera was certainly tired of hearing about that respect, because just a week ago, when you first met, she was the one to urge him down sooner. 

“You’ll never meet if you wait this long,” she said, brow raised as she stood behind Lucifer at the golden gates, watching from the clouds. “Humility is very kind. You could say hello,” she pressed. 

“Does Humility have a name?” He asked curiously, continuing to watch as the clouds changed. “It seems so rude… just saying Humility.”

“I’ve only ever known Virtues by what they represent; that’s how they introduce themselves,” she said, shrugging. Lucifer hummed, nodding and continuing to keep his attention on the clouds. She gave him a nudge, “You could ask.”

“You must want me to leave.”

“I want you to stop longing like this.” Lucifer laughed. “Go on.” She gave him a gentle push, making him have to open his wings before he fell. “Just don’t come on too strong.”

“Right…” He took a deep breath, smoothing down his coat. “I can do that.”

[mxplesyrvp]

`•*ੈ💭`‧₊˚— whimsical whites and baby blues | feat. gojo satoru.

* ˚💭‧₊˚ synopsis — satoru thinks its dangerous for you to love him so much but he still can't help but be a little selfish, which scares him. however, you would stop at nothing to keep loving him either, even if it cost you your life.

⚘ word count + genre — 1.13k || hurt/comfort

⚘ warnings — spoilers + set in gojo's past arc, established relationship, a lot of internal monologue, less dialogue + more feels, mentions of death, very self-indulgent, not beta read. || gn!reader.

⚘ notes! — finally getting into writing after a long time and it's my first time writing for gojo! please be kind <33

you never knew that stars could taste like fractured dreams until you kissed him.

on most days, his kisses taste like clear blue skies —whimsical and full of wonder— stealing your breath with the secrets they held. but on other days, they were simple and delightful like clouds of cotton candy, each kiss a swirl of sugary sweetness. sometimes they were akin to cups of hot chocolate on a winter's night, comforting you with an embrace. other times, they tasted like stolen pancakes, crisp at the edges and soft in the centre, dipped in honey as they left a trail of golden warmth in their wake.

but now when your lips touched his, the only thing you could taste were stars so broken they had forgotten how to shine. they tasted like lost ambition, burning desperation and the hopelessness of being left alone yet again. it felt like the pleading of a worshipper whose God had left His shrine; like the silence of a lover who had had his heart broken.

when it came to gojo satoru, he liked to think that no force in the world could ever rival his strength. but this time, he had been brought down to his knees, his heart bloodied and blooming into a bruised flower, all because his God—the light of his life—had stepped over the threshold of his paradise.

even with the weight of the world on his shoulders, satoru loved you as much as you did him, despite death clinging to your lips. but no other feeling could ever compare to what he had for his best friend, geto suguru. and he was gone, taking the keys to the doors he had locked so meticulously with those cursed hands of his, for he believed that gojo could never open them up without him.

"i was starting to get used to the thought that you weren't coming back either," he said, misery sitting heavy on his tongue.

"to be very honest," you said, a small smile pulling the corners of your lips,"i was getting used to it too."

it had been over a month since you were stranded in the nasty domain of the curse you were assigned to exorcize— a hellish paradise you would love to live in had it been a real place, had it not been killing you so slow that you barely ever noticed. hours after you saw through your assignment, you knew of all the things that had transpired in the time you were held off. the assassination of the star plasma vessel, the death of toji fushiguro, geto and his new plan of action— after all, bad news had wings and the winds always favoured them to travel faster.

"i don't think I'll ever get used to this weird feeling," he huffs out, his gaze unfocused, shifting towards the window.

and you, just like always, could no longer tell if his eyes were a reflection of the sky or the sky resided within them. blue, blue, blue— so blue that you could almost see the storm brewing within them. you could tell he was lost in that storm, vulnerability teasing the edges of the surface under which he had buried it.

"what feeling?" you asked quite bluntly, bringing him back to reality.

and those beautiful blue eyes found their way into your weary ones. You would never get over how blue they were or how much you would love to drown in them, until you were that very colour and nothing else was left of you. It was a curious thing to keep guessing how much depth those eyes held and once again your mind was splintered between deciding whether they were more akin to the ocean than the skies.

"the feeling of being left behind like this," he said, the pain behind each word so pronounced that even you could feel it. "it's like almost everyone i'm associated with is always driven to the edge. they distance themselves or just....die. i'm afraid that one of these days, i might cause you to leave as well."

this time, you couldn't help but snicker a little. if you were to count the number of times you made memories with gojo, you'd find that most of them were nightmares. but even in those you could find buds of hope; because nightmares were dreams too. dreams were hopeful little things. and they were the heart's favourite delicacies for which it hungered so relentlessly.

it was a given there was no safe place in the world for people like you. people like you who carried angels within your hearts and demons in your blood, who were often brought down by that which you hunted, who carried battles in your fingertips, in every breath and every heartbeat— there was no place safer than this one for you. it was a daunting thing to love someone in a world like that, where every breath you drew could be your last. but brutal was the heart which fed on love and it would stop at nothing to want more of that feeling.

"there's no way I would ever leave on my own," you said, smiling through your teeth, "even death will be a small price to pay. he pales in comparison to what I have with you, satoru."

"and you, kind of need a hug," you added more as an afterthought to lighten the mood a little.

gojo wasted no time to pull you into him, both his hands snaking around your waist and his face buried in the crook of your neck. he smelled like caramel and citrus as usual, his breath soft and frosty hair tickling your skin.

you knew better than most humans that you did not have all the time in the world. if death wanted you, he would find you even if you tried to hide from him. but for now, it was helpless against the sun inside of gojo. the sun within him didn't shine like early morning warm rays but it burned like wildfire. it burned so golden that it was almost white, scorching your heart in the process. and he still believed that he was safe— safe enough to love you and for you to love as well.

he knew very well that the sun inside him could burn the world, but he still looked at you like you were his undoing, he still held you like he wanted you to love him. and to love him was to face the wildfire inside him— to burn with him.

at that moment, you wish you could have a conversation with death. if you could, then you would look it in the eyes and say something you knew would make death's heart stop.

"if you want me, then find me in the ashes."

© mxplesyrvp, since 2022, all rights reserved. Do not copy, repost, modify or translate without permission.

[lostfracturess]

【 ᴄᴏɴᴄᴇʀɴ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏɴᴛʀᴏʟ 】 ch. 03

"i hate this—i hate that i still need you, satoru." his arms tensed around you. "i know," he whispered. "but i'll always be here, even if you end up hating me for it."

x pairing gojo x f!reader (main), fushiguro x f!reader (jjk universe)

x summary you never wanted to become part of the world of jujutsu sorcerers, yet fate had other plans when the one and only satoru gojo took you under his wing at jujutsu high. but as the lines between student and teacher begin to blur, hidden powers surge to life, and a deadly target is set on your head.

x wc 13.9 k

x warnings [18+] this story contains abusive/possessive behavior, (rough) smut, mature themes, self-destructive behavior, (heavy) angst, graphic depictions of violence/injury/combat, character death, suicidal thoughts. reader discretion is advised.

x author's note alright, here's the latest chapter! i'm always curious to hear your reactions—let me know what you think! (likes and reblogs are always appreciated!) ♡

series masterlist + ao3 + wattpad

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Being friends with Satoru was fucking hard. 

His mere presence had the power to crumble the walls that protected your composure. Every encounter became a silent war—an inner struggle to choose distance over the alluring closeness his aura naturally demanded.

But keeping distance? 

Oh, it was a fierce, bitter, and relentless battle.

"Just a few more!" Satoru's voice, melodiously carefree, pierced through the chilly air. You forced your muscles into another agonizing push-up as your body teetered on the brink of collapse.

"Oh, how I adore him," Nobara whispered, her voice lingering beside you.

Autumn has subtly introduced itself. It bathed the world in warm amber and russet hues, gently wrapping the fading memories of summer's vibrancy under its soft blanket. The days began to cool. You could feel a gentle breeze on your skin.

"How much more?" You asked, your voice barely hiding the treacherous trembling of your arms.

"I'm going to throw up," Yuji declared. His face twisted in a strange mixture of effort and rebellion against his stomach's agenda. 

Nobara quietly muttered a series of creative curses.

"Hmmm," Satoru peered over his sunglasses. "—just another easy 50."

"Ha. Ha. Haaa?" Yuji's voice scaled up with each syllable.

"You're joking, right?" Nobara asked, her voice a sweet poison. 

You glanced over to Megumi for a split second. He seemed to suffer in silence.

The insidious muscle burn has found its way to your core. Ah, the betrayal of one's own body. You hate push-ups. And Satoru. But mostly push-ups, you thought.

And maybe, just maybe, you hated the way your heart still skipped a beat whenever he was near.

"Come on, only a few more. Push through it," Satoru cheered.

Meanwhile, Yuji, now completely horizontal on the ground, announced with dramatic flair, "Go on without me. Save yourselves. Remember me as I was—," his voice fading into an exaggerated death rattle.

Your visible exhale, clouds of warmth dissolving into the crisp air, as you exchanges a quick glance with Satoru. Your heart, that traitorous organ, fluttered at the unexpected sight. 

Damn it all.

—49—49—50—Your arms gave way, surrendering to the undeniable pull of the earth below. Your face hit the slightly damp grass, allowing yourself a moment to enjoy the earthy scent and the cool sensation on your overheated skin.

Perhaps this was where you would remain for the rest of eternity—a monument to the fallen, struck down in the prime of life by Satoru's cruel push-up regime.

A shadow fell upon you. You knew who it was without looking. "If you've come to gloat," you began, your voice muffled by the grass beneath, "know that I've already drawn up my revenge plan."

Instead of a witty retort, Satoru's voice was softer, flirtatious, closer, as he said, "You did well."

Friends, Satoru. Remember?

"I highly doubt that," you rolled your eyes, catching sight of Megumi, already rebounding to his feet, seemingly unfazed. "Are you even human?" you asked him, half-joking, half-awe.

A nonchalant shrug and a lean stretch were his only responses, further fueling your suspicions about his humanity.

"What was today's hellish training even for?" Yuji lamented.

"Do I need a reason to torment my students?" Satoru teased.

Nobara's expression crafted a visual soliloquy of disdain.

"Actually," Satoru corrected, "—you have a new mission tomorrow." His tone grew more serious. "There have been disturbing incidents reported from an abandoned hospital near Shizuoka."

Megumi interjected, "Don't they have their own sorcerers?"

"Not strong enough, it seems." Satoru's gaze hardened for a moment. "But I assure you, it will be an exciting adventure!"

You lifted your face from the grass, strands of green clinging to your cheeks. You cast a skeptical glance at Satoru. "Exciting adventure, he says," you murmured. "—last time it was a 'minor inconvenience' and we fought a special curse that almost made a snack out of Yuji."

Yuji, still stretched out beside you, nodded solemnly. "I still have nightmares about those teeth."

"Your definition of fun, Gojo, seriously needs a revision," Nobara added.

Satoru lowered himself to your level. His eyes met yours as a grin played around the corners of his lips. "You'll love this one, I promise."

Yuji mustered the strength to sit up. "What's so 'exciting' about this mission anyway?"

Satoru tilted his head slightly, silver strands of hair capturing the last rays of the day, shimmering in the receding sunlight. "That abandoned hospital in Shizuoka—it's notorious. Local sorcerers have been trying to deal with the anomalies there for months, but last week two of them went in and never came out."

Nobara perked up. "So you're sending us to a place where sorcerers have gone missing?"

Satoru nodded. "Exactly. The hospital was a place of pain, suffering and numerous unexplained deaths even before it was abandoned. Now, it seems to have become a breeding ground for curses. The incidents are escalating and they can't contain it anymore. We must find out what's going on there, save the sorcerers, and cleanse the place."

Your heart raced. You pulled yourself up into a sitting position, grass and soil clinging to your sweat-soaked shirt. "Sounds more dangerous than exciting."

"Sure, there's a risk, but we've got this. As long as we stick together," Megumi said.

"The power of friendship saves the day, huh?" you reply, your voice dripping with sarcasm.

Satoru stood up and held out a hand to help you to your feet. As you accepted the gesture, a familiar electric charge ran through you. He pulled you up with ease, his voice a soft whisper meant only for you, "Be careful. I'd hate to lose my favorite student."

FRIENDS, SATORU. REMEMBER?

****

"Wasn't this supposed to be fun?" Nobara hollered. 

Her voice sliced through the eerie silence of the abandoned hospital's hauntingly empty hallways, as all four of you sprinted, hearts thundering in your chests.

The distant, hollow groans of curses echoed through the deserted corridors. Each groan sent shivers down your spine and fueled your legs to push you forward with even greater urgency.

Megumi summoned his divine dog. It charged forward, fighting the cascade of curses that flowed like a nightmarish tide through the crumbling, cavernous passageways to buy you more time to escape.

"That's Gojo's version of fun, remember?" Yuji retorted, his words punctuated by ragged breaths. 

Shadows seemed to reach for you, elongating as the dimming twilight outside filtered through the cracked windows, creating unsettling, contorting forms upon the walls. 

Skidding around a corner, Nobara sent a cascade of cursed nails spiraling into an oncoming threat. The curses dissipated upon impact. But the brief respite was soon shattered by the oppressive feeling of more malevolent presences converging upon your location.

The hospital itself seemed to warp and twist with cursed energy. Halls elongated, and rooms reshaped into grotesque shapes. The walls themselves seemed to breathe, inhaling and exhaling a suffocating, eerie energy that enveloped everything within.

"How the fuck did we end up in this creepy horror show all of a sudden?" You yelled as you sprinted ahead.

"We must find the core of this energy—destroy it or we'll be overrun," Megumi shouted.

The scene was a total mess, no way around it. 

The chaotic atmosphere, swirling with malevolent energy and the agonized screams of curses, pressed in from all sides. Shadows reached out and twisted around the group, the outlines of lurking creatures barely discernible in the pitch-black darkness, as an immense curse appeared, radiating an aura of fear so deep it seemed to suck the life from its surroundings.

Shadows reached out and twisted around the group, stopping you in your tracks. Then curses appeared, their outlines barely visible in the pitch-black darkness. Agonized screams echoed from all sides. 

Suddenly, a massive curse appeared, radiating an aura of fear so deep it seemed to suck the life from its surroundings.

Satoru's voice crackled over your communicators, his voice tense. "I sense a tremendous amount of cursed energy. Get out of there now!"

But his warning came too late. With a bone-rattling roar, the curse lunged forward. 

Everything fell into chaos.

Megumi's shikigami dimmed and flickered as the curse descended upon you all. Nobara and Yuji tried their best to fight back, but the monstrous creature effortlessly tossed them aside as if they were nothing. Their battered forms crashed to the debris-strewn ground with a sickening thud.

Satoru's voice again. "Everyone, retreat, now!"

Shit. Shit. Shit.

You were paralyzed.

Move, you yelled at your own muscles. 

Move, goddamn it. But they refused your command.

The curse twisted its grotesque form towards you. Its eyes completely devoid of light or life. Your heart raced as it advanced.

You had to do something.

In an instant, the curse closed in on you, its dark, oily fingers stretching towards you. Time appeared to crawl as its hand loomed closer. Your heart froze. Then an inexplicable sensation surged from deep within you, like a taut thread snapping.

The air shifted around you. The curse stopped.

Its grotesque form convulsed as the cursed energy surrounding it twisted and contorted. Its scream echoed through the cavernous decay of the hospital as its own malevolent aura recoiled upon it.

The curse transformed, changed into something else entirely.

Something you wanted it to be.

You could feel the curse, feel its fear, feel its evil. All of it.

With a trembling hand, you reached out, deflecting the cursed energy of the curse onto itself. The curse convulsed and writhed. Its form disintegrated under the crushing weight of its own malevolent energy. Then it simply dissolved into nothingness.

But it didn't stop. The fear didn't stop. You still felt its fear. Its evil. Everything.

It coursed through you, too overwhelming to bear. It threatened to consume you entirely as your own cursed energy spiralled out of control, creating a maelstrom of chaos around you. 

Suddenly, Satoru's voice cut through the chaos. "Suppress it! You must suppress your cursed energy!"

But your consciousness was adrift in the maelstrom. The uncontrolled energy threatened to consume your very being. Then, for a fleeting moment, you saw Satoru's face as he ran towards you. Time stood still for a moment as your gaze locked with his. 

Satoru.

In that moment, you found yourself ensnared in the depths of his terror-stricken eyes. All noise ceased, and sensations dulled. The chaos that had enveloped the surroundings was quelled, its frenetic energy pulled back, forcibly contained within.

Silence replaced the chaotic energy that had suffocated the room, and the swirling vortex of curses collapsed into a singularity within you. 

An explosion of blinding light illuminated the decimated hospital before it was once again plunged into an unsettling silence, now without the oppressive presence of the curses.

You crumpled to your knees. A sudden sensation of decay washed over you. You leaned forward and coughed up a painful spurt of blood. Satoru ran towards your crumpling form. His arms carefully enveloped you, before you hit the ground.

"You're such a stubborn woman," he whispered. His voice barely audible, eyes locked with yours, shining with a depth that spoke volumes.

Friends, Satoru... Remember?

****

"Do you have any idea how damn reckless that was?" Satoru's voice now a sharpened blade slicing through the thick air.

"I did what I had to, Satoru. We're all still standing here, ain't we?"

He took a step closer, his voice low and lethal. "You gambled with something you don't understand, something you can't control. Next time, you might not be so lucky."

A bitter laugh escaped you. "Concern, is it? You're a fine one to talk about understanding and control!"

His jaw clenched, a battle raged in his eyes.

Nobara chimed in. "Both of you, maybe we should talk about this when—"

"No," Satoru interrupted, his eyes never leaving yours. "You can't just run around and do shit that might kill you."

"And you think I want to die?" Your voice cracked, "Satoru, I felt that power. I felt it trying to consume me! But would you rather I did nothing and let us all die instead?"

A pained silence followed your words, interrupted only by the strained breathing shared between you and Satoru. 

"She's right. She saved us back then." Megumi pushed himself off the wall he was leaning against. "—wouldn't the better question be, what the hell this cursed technique was?"

You took a deep breath. "I don't know what that was—it just came all of the sudden."

Satoru's expression shifted and he let out a frustrated exhale. The silence that followed even more painful than the arguing.

After a beat, Megumi chimed in. "That cursed technique you unleashed back there? It's like nothing I've ever seen before." His gaze darted between you and Satoru, assessing the situation. "It kinda reminded me of Mahito's Idle Transfiguration, but it's not quite the same. Yours is more like—"

"—manipulating the very essence of the cursed energy, changing its nature, its intent," Satoru claimed in. "It's massively powerful."

"—and dangerous," Nobara added.

Satoru turned to you again. "You need to learn to control it. You hear me?"

"Oh, you think I don't know that?"

He stepped closer, his voice a whisper yet charged with intensity. "You know nothing."

Your gaze locked with his. Behind the layer of frustration and anger, there was a palpable fear in his eyes—a fear of losing something precious. But the stubborn part of you pushed forward, your voice tense. "What's your problem, Gojo?"

He raised an eyebrow as you called him Gojo. He was silenced. 

"It's more than just control over her cursed technique. It's also about the consequences of that power," Megumi interjected cautiously midst of the strained silence. His eyes carried a grave seriousness that flickered between you and Satoru.

"I know," Satoru murmured, his stance still rigid, his gaze never leaving yours.

"Explaining for the ones, that don't get it?" Yuji said.

"Think about it. If this power can manipulate cursed energy to such a degree, it's going to draw attention. Not just from curses, but potentially from other jujutsu sorcerers as well," Megumi continued. "If it's that powerful, it's likely that others want to exploit it—or eliminate it."

You flinched at his words. 

Eliminate?

Yuji's eyes widened. "So what do we do now? We can't just wait for someone—or something—to come after her, right?"

"No. We protect her, we train her, and we figure this out. Together. But for now it might be safest to keep a low profile," Megumi said.

Satoru inched dangerously close as he towered over you. "I won't leave your side," he declared, "—not until you can control it."

"What?"

"I will not let anything happen to you."

"You can't shadow me every single second of the day!"

His lips curved into a wry smile. "You'd be surprised by what I can do." 

Did he even hear himself?

The room seemed to pulse with a charged silence as you stood your ground, anger glinting in your eyes. Then, a small smirk played on your lips. "Megumi can do this as well," you threw in, surprising not only Satoru but also Megumi, whose eyes widened slightly.

Caught off guard but still managing to maintain a calm exterior, Megumi shifted, opening his mouth to possibly rebuff or agree. But he was cut off by Yuji's enthusiastic, "Count me in, I'll protect her too!"

"Alright, Megumi it is," Nobara said with a playful wave of her hand.

"You're not even giving me a chance!"

The atmosphere shifted just enough to give space for easier breaths and softened expressions. But Satoru didn't let his guard down. He leaned in close, his voice low and hoarse. The words were for your ears only. "You're really pushing my limits, love."

Your pulse quickened. There was a hint of flirtation in his tone, but the fury in his eyes as they met yours stole your breath. You might regret this later, you thought.

****

Your fingers moved with gentle precision.

You maneuvered the sterilized cloth, dipping it in antiseptic before turning to Megumi. Positioned on the edge of the hospital bed, he offered a silent profile. His eyes deliberately avoided yours. 

The scent of antiseptic lingered in the air. In the distance you could hear the echoes of footsteps and muffled conversations from the corridor beyond.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, subtly luring his eyes to meet yours, "—,for earlier. I shouldn't have put you in that position—with Satoru."

His eyes met yours briefly. "It's alright."

"It's just—," you leaned in closer, the distance between the two of you closing as your fingers gently dabbed at his wound. He flinched slightly. "—Satoru's arrogance is wearing me thin."

He was silent for a breath, his gaze lingering on the way your fingers delicately tended to his injury. "He wants to keep you safe."

"We all do," he added.

You looked up to him, and somehow you thought he wanted to say more. But the words were trapped.

"I know I am safe with you," you whispered.

For a split second, Megumi's face turned red. He quickly averted his gaze.

"Where did you learn to treat such wounds?" He asked after a while.

A heavy exhale escaped your lips. "Before Satoru found me, I was on my own—fighting curses and all." You paused. "I had to learn self-preservation, in every sense."

You guided the needle through Megumi's skin to close his wound, an unwavering focus narrowing your gaze. The sterile light of the hospital room cast a soft glow over the surgical instruments nearby, your fingers skillfully dancing between them with learned grace.

He watched, the slightest flinch barely revealing the sting of each pass of the needle. "You're quite good at this."

"Survival breeds skill, sometimes," you replied, carefully threading the needle despite the close proximity, "I suppose most sorcerers have a troubled past." 

A faint smile played on your lips. "It's probably that struggle that pushes us into this dangerous career path, don't you think?"

"I wish circumstances were different for you—that your path wasn't so hard."

Your breath caught. You had to stop stitching him up for a second as you processed his words.

"Perhaps," you replied, gently placing the needle down and giving him your full attention. "But it's that path that led me here—so I'm glad it was."

Yes. Your past has been one of scars and bruises.

But it also led you to this very point. Even in the wreckage left by Satoru's heartbreak, there was a light, a silver lining. You'd found something unique, something precious—a home among friends who felt like family.

As your eyes lingered on Megumi's, an unspoken understanding bridged the space between you. In that quiet moment, between the antiseptic scent and the distant hum of other people, you found a trace of calm, a whisper of what might be amidst the remnants of what once was.

But reality, as it often does, shattered the serenity with a sharp crack.

****

Your whole body ached.

Every muscle screamed in rebellion. Frozen tendrils of breath dissolved into the frigid air as you fought to catch your breath. You were on the ground. Drenched in sweat. Shrouded in fatigue. You had reached your limits. Every sense was screaming at you to stop. 

But as you looked up to meet Satoru's gaze, you knew he wouldn't let you stop. His face was a fortress of stern determination. It made the cold autumn air seem almost warm in comparison.

"Again," he demanded sharply, the word cutting through the silence that enveloped the training grounds.

You exhaled shakily, fists clenched. Weary limbs pushed you to your feet. You had to stifle a cry of pain as you did so. You couldn't fail. You had to do this. So you forced yourself into another attempt to control the unbridled surge of your cursed energy.

It lashed out rebelliously, ignoring your feeble attempts at containment. The result was a frustrated growl that escaped between your clenched teeth.

"They're not concentrating. Again. Channel your energy. Don't let it control you."

He acted like you weren't even trying. Like you hadn't been giving it your all to get a grip on this fucking cursed energy of yours. Like you weren't on the verge of tears because of your own failure.

"I am trying, Satoru!"

"Trying isn't enough!" His distance decreased as he approached you, his voice rising, "—trying will get you killed!" 

Somehow, all fatigue was suddenly replaced by fury.

"You think I don't know that that?"

"If you truly understood, your efforts would show it!"

You parted your lips, ready to fight back, but he wasn't done yet. 

"You can't always rely on physical strength alone," he continued. "You have to control your cursed technique, or die in vain."

The audacity.

Your fists clenched at your sides. "Not everyone can be a miracle child like you, you arrogant—"

All of a sudden, he appeared, standing so close before you that it sent a jolt of electricity through you. Your heart raced, beating violently against your chest, you were sure he must have heard it.

"You're leaving yourself exposed here," Satoru's voice, barely above a whisper, sank into the cold air as his finger traced a gentle, almost teasing path along your side, pointing to a flaw in your guard. Your skin burned under the subtle touch, a heat that consumed your resolve, already shaky with fatigue and frustration.

He stepped around you, his movements predatory, eyes meticulously scanned you, evaluating—appraising. Fingers brushed upward, caressing the line of your arm with a touch so light it was almost torturous. "And here, your energy leaks, untamed and wasteful."

His proximity was a palpable pressure, both comforting and intensely unsettling, wrapping around you like an impenetrable fog. His eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that bordered on intrusive. Yet you found yourself unwilling—unable—to break away.

He circled you. His footsteps silent against the training ground's cold earth. "Every point of weakness, an invitation."

When he circled to your front, those blazing blue eyes, locked onto yours. And then, ever so subtly, his gaze drifted downward, lingering on your lips, parted ever so slightly. 

The air between you crackled, charged with a different kind of energy, intensifying the trembling of your cursed energy as it flailed uncontrollably in the ether around you.

"Every weakness is a door begging to be opened." He cupped your chin, forcing your gaze to lift and meet his. "But you, you've always been a fortress, haven't you? Yet even the sturdiest walls find themselves crumbling under the right—pressure."

"You're testing your limits, Satoru." 

Friends. Satoru.

He leaned infinitely closer. His eyes glowed with seductive danger. "Am I?"

"I won't crumble, Satoru. Not under your touch." 

"I guess we'll see." 

THE AUDACITY.

The confrontation, the exhaustion, it all came together in a violent burst of cursed energy. It rippled through the air and made the surrounding vegetation tremble. 

Satoru didn't flinch an inch. His eyes locked on yours.

You gritted your teeth. "We're done for today," you said and turned on your heel.

But he was faster In one fluid motion, he seized your arm, forcing you to face him once more. "Running from your problems now? That doesn't sound like you."

RUNNING?

Your blood began to boil. Jerking your arm away, you met his gaze with fiery defiance, "I'm not running. But maybe you should rethink your teaching strategy, Satoru."

His expression flickered for a moment before an amused grin touched his lips, "And what, pray tell, would your enlightened approach be, oh wise student?"

"For starters, a bit of faith would be nice," you shot back, "—and maybe some actual constructive guidance instead of theatrical yelling?"

"Faith, you say?"

"And maybe throw in a 'good job' once in a while. Positive reinforcement, ever heard of it?"

A reluctant smirk twitched at the corners of his mouth. "I'll take it under advisement."

"Somehow, I find that hard to believe."

He shrugged nonchalantly. "Enough theory, then. How about we find a curse and test your control in a practical scenario?"

You blinked, aghast. "What?"

****

The crisp autumn air rustled through the vibrant foliage above as you as Satoru ventured deeper into the dense forest. Leaves of fiery reds and vibrant oranges fell gently, creating a colorful carpet beneath your feet. A slight chill whispered through the trees, accompanied by the sound of leaves crunching underfoot.

Satoru's hand was clenched around a mysterious, shivering object. His sharp eyes glanced your way, reflecting the cascade of autumn colors around, yet somehow colder. 

Without warning, he unfolded his hand, revealing a squirming curse bound skillfully within his grasp. "Well then, let's see if my 'crappy' training has paid off at all, shall we?"

Huh?

"Think fast," he stated, almost too casually, unleashing the curse before you could voice a protest.

A nauseating squelch perforated the silence of the secluded woodlands. Emerging from the ooze, a curse materialized, its form an unsettling amalgamation of rot and despair. Its flesh, a sickly purulent yellow, hung grotesquely from its misshapen skeleton, numerous bulbous eyes blinking asynchronously from various points on its body.

Appendages, far too numerous and articulated in ways that defied logical anatomy, clawed at the air while a cacophony of guttural moans and shrieks emanated from a mouth that stretched far too far across its form.

You're kidding right?

As it lunged towards you, the sickening stench of decay overwhelmed your senses. Your cursed energy pulsated, thrashing wildly as you sought to harness it, direct it. Yet, the memory of previous failures and the haunting echo of Satoru's reprimands hindered your resolve.

The curse's limbs crashed against the barrier you'd mustered, shuddering vibrations rippling through you as it strained, contorted, and assailed your defenses. Its grotesque features contorted further, if possible, in malevolent delight. With a piercing shriek, it shattered through, the collision sending you sprawling amidst the dead leaves.

Trembling amidst the fallen leaves, you forcefully pulled yourself to your feet, icy resolve coating your veins as you stared down the grotesque curse once more.

You closed your eyes momentarily, attempting to steady the maelstrom of cursed energy swirling chaotically within you, sought to envision the energy as a tangible entity, something you could mold, control, and wield as your own.

Yet, as you opened your eyes, meeting the myriad of malevolent gazes affixed upon you, the cursed energy spiked wildly, lashing out without form or direction. It seared through your veins like molten metal, scorching from the inside, its potency overwhelming yet infuriatingly insubordinate.

"Focus!" Satoru's voice, distant yet piercing.

Your palms slick with a cold sweat, a sharp breath in, and your focus narrowed, eyes locked onto the pulsating monstrosity of the curse. Its form, a mangled amalgamation of despair and hatred, seethed under your gaze, eyes like voids staring back, challenging, defying.

Drawing from deep within, you reached out with your own cursed energy, a delicate thread connecting to the roiling mass before you. In that instant, a cacophony of emotions—fear, anger, sorrow—cascaded through the link, the curse's chaotic energy surging against your influence.

Within your mind's eye, you visualized the flow of its cursed energy, a violent torrent that you sought to redirect. Subtle adjustments, gentle nudges—that was all it should take. Your intention was to invert the energy back upon the curse itself, turning its own power into its undoing.

However, the energy resisted, reflecting and amplifying back through the conduit you'd created. The feedback was instantaneous and brutal, your own cursed energy rebelling against you, a visceral explosion that sent shockwaves through your being.

Pain seared through your veins, a scream tearing from your throat as your knees buckled, the earth rushing up to meet you. Yet even as darkness flirted with the edges of your consciousness, you could sense it—the curse, despite the misdirection, had been affected, its energy convulsing wildly, a grotesque dance of agony mirroring your own.

"Enough!" Satoru's voice cut through the maelstrom, his technique dissolving, sending the curse, now a writhing, shrieking mass, hurtling into the abyss from whence it came.

"Again!"

In the waning light of the chilly autumn day, the scene played out again and again—a cyclic nightmare. The curse, a vile creature of misshapen limbs and hollow, gouged-out eyes, was repeatedly brought forth by Satoru, its guttural roars clawing at the peaceful serenity of the woods.

Attempt after attempt, your technique faltered. Energy recoiled, backfiring with a vengeance that physically pained you.

"Again," your voice, once firm, now trembled with the strain.

Satoru nodded silently, releasing the curse yet again. His eyes, however, betrayed a flicker of something akin to anguish, watching you struggle, witnessing the physical toll each failed attempt exacted upon you.

Energy surged, collided, and once more rejected your influence, the backlash sending tremors of pain through your being. Collapsing to your knees, a pained cry escaped your lips, yet stubbornly, you rose again, your gaze meeting Satoru's, a silent plea for another chance.

"That's enough for today."

Your legs gave way beneath you. Your form, crumpled upon the forest floor, was eerily still, save for the shallow breaths that whispered through clenched teeth. "No—again!" A rancid taste clawed its way up your throat, your body convulsing forward as you retched, the aftereffects of the curses' chaotic energy polluting your being. 

Hunched over the damp forest floor, each spasm was a brutal reminder of your failure, haunting every recess of your mind—Weak—ghostly whispers of failure that entwined the very air around you.

"I'm too weak," your voice barely pierced through, a low, despairing murmur, interspersed with harsh, ragged breaths. "I can't—I can't control it, Satoru. What use am I if I can't even master my own cursed technique?"

Satoru crouched down beside you, his fingers gently tipping your chin up, silently begging your eyes to find solace in his. "Don't."

"I'm still too weak, Satoru," your voice, raw, broken, shattered the haunting silence.

Weak. So pitifully weak. Never, ever enough. It twisted through your thoughts, an insidious vine, ensnaring every hope, every fragment of self-assurance that dared to surface.

Weak. Weak. Weak.

"You're not." Satoru's voice pierced the enveloping darkness.

"I can't save anyone like this," you choked out, near a scream, desperation snaking through every word.

"That's not true, and you know it. You've saved others many times!"

Weak. Weak. Weak. Weak. Weak. Weak. Weak. Weak. Weak. Weak.

"I'm not enough, Satoru!" It was a scream this time, a raw, visceral sound that erupted from the core of your being and tore through the silence of the surrounding forest.

His arms wrapped around you, pulling you close to his chest. "Enough," he said firmly.

Within the secure embrace of Satoru's arms, a war waged within you. The sound of your ragged breaths and the rhythmic thumping of his heart formed a painful symphony, an agonizing reminder of what had been lost. It was in that moment, amidst the chaos of your emotions and the haunting echoes of your insecurities, that you truly crumbled.

Salty trails ran down your cheeks, mingling with the dirt and sweat from the torment you'd endured, as sobs shook your entire being.

You didn't want to be just friends. Damn it. You needed him desperately. You cursed yourself for it. All you wanted was for him to take the weightoff your shoulders, if only for a moment—you didn't want to be yourself. Just his.

"I hate this," you managed to say between trembling breaths, "—I hate that I still need you, Satoru."

His arms tensed around you. "I know," he whispered, voice scarcely audible amidst the rustling leaves. "But I'll always be here, even if you end up hating me for it."

His breath, warm and steady, grazed the crown of your head, igniting a bittersweet ache deep within. But in that moment, you allowed yourself to be enveloped in the memory of his warmth, the safety that once lay in the curve of his arm. Cruel. It was a cruel reminder of a time where love and pain were not such closely intertwined companions.

His arms became both sanctuary and prison.

****

The sound of shallow, fraught breaths filled the empty training room, your form collapsed on the mat, eyes shimmering with unshed tears and resolve broken under the weight of your own failure. This pattern was all too familiar, a rhythm that played out predictably, yet agonizingly. Megumi, a silent witness to your struggle, observing the relentless cycle unfold time and time again.

Fall. Rise. Inhale. Exhale. Rise. Fall. Silence. Scream.

It was a torturous play, a ceaseless descent into a seemingly impenetrable abyss. Your body, a silhouette strained to the brink, collapses, only to be compelled upward again by a tenacity that is both heartbreaking and awe-inspiring.

Fall. Rise. Scream. Silence. Rise. Fall. Silence. Cry.

Megumi watched as your eyes, once filled with unwavering determination, flickered between determination and a desolation that threatens to consume their fire. Your form, a vessel visibly marred by the incessant tempests of your trials, convulses with exertion and a despair that seems to claw insidiously from within.

Rise. Fall. Scream. Silence. Scream. Silence. Cry.

With each descent, Megumi felt a physical ache. Each scream from your lips, each shudder that wracked your body, kindled an impotent anger within him, simmering beneath the surface of silent solidarity. Your torment became his own.

"Gojo, we need to talk. Now," Megumi's voice broke the silence, marking the shattering of his observation. In his words linger the ghosts of your silent cries, your whispered pleas to the unyielding darkness, beckoning a reckoning long festering.

Satoru, perpetually enigmatic behind his blindfold, managed to maintain his typical composed exterior, but an almost imperceptible tightening of his jaw was visible. Without uttering a word, he simply tilted his head slightly, silently inviting the brewing tempest. The moment the door slid shut behind them, Megumi whirled around, his eyes ablaze with fury.

"What the hell do you think you're doing to her in there, Gojo?!"

"Training her." Satoru's blindfolded eyes giving away nothing of his thoughts.

"That's not training!" Megumi snapped, his voice echoing through the empty hall, "You're not training her, Satoru—you're breaking her!"

"She's strong. She can handle it."

"She doesn't! You're pushing her beyond her limits and for what, Satoru?! For your own damn peace of mind?" Megumi's words were sharp, the blade of protective rage slicing through the tense air.

"You of all people should understand, Fushiguro. Our world doesn't pull punches. Neither can we."

"How can you, of all people, not see that you're breaking her?"

"Think I don't know that? I'm damn aware. I know she might hate me for it. But I can't—" His voice trailed off, a momentary lapse that unmasked a shadow of vulnerability.

Satoru's silence was telling.

Megumi's eyes, fixed upon Satoru, discerning the unsaid. "It's because she reminds you of him, is it?"

Satoru's voice, when it surfaced, was barely more than a whisper yet laden with the echoes of past specters. "I can't let her—."

"—she's not Geto."

A visible tension cinched Satoru's features as the name hovered between them, evoking entombed memories and spectral pain.

"Your fear, Satoru—it's blinding you. You're gonna hate yourself if you don't stop now."

Taking a breath, Megumi continued, adamant, "I'm taking over her training, Gojo. I won't stand by while you tear her down."

A prolonged silence stretched, before Satoru, his voice nearly lost amidst the echoes, conceded, "You're right—Maybe I'm not what she needs right now."

****

The subtle rustle of pages being turned was the only sound that dared to pierce the stillness of the library in the midnight silence. Illuminated only by the gentle glow of a solitary lamp, you sat there, shoulders hunched, eyes scanning line after line of ancient texts and forgotten lore, desperately seeking something, anything, that might offer a glimmer of understanding regarding your elusive cursed technique.

Your eyes burned, flickering over words that began to blur and merge. The subtle creaking of the library door echoed through the vast chamber, heralding the arrival of another. Your weary gaze lifted, landing upon Megumi, his silhouette framed by the soft light filtering through the doorway. He approached, steps soundless, yet your tired eyes tracked him until he stood before you.

"You're overdoing it."

A bitter laugh escaped your parched lips, your gaze returning to the open book before you. "Overdoing it is all I've got left, Megumi."

He gently closed the book, forcing your eyes upward to meet his concern. "When was the last time you slept?"

"I know what you're trying to do." Your hand deflected his, reopening the tome with a determined flick.

"You look like shit."

"Oh, charming."

Choosing a chair, Megumi straddled it backward, facing you with an unyielding gaze.

A sigh, wearied and long, drifted from your lips. "What did you say to Satoru earlier?" You flipped a page, eyes scanning yet not truly absorbing the words.

"Do you really want to know?"

You looked up to him for a fleeting moment. "Probably not." You flipped a page, eyes scanning yet not truly absorbing the words "But I know you don't agree with his methods."

"That's putting it mildly," Megumi's exhale carried a weight of restrained emotion. "—Satoru might be okay with throwing you into the abyss in hopes you'll learn to climb out, but I'm not."

"That's not what he's doing."

"It's exactly that. You're just turning a blind eye to it."

Megumi's words hung suspended in the library's age-old air, intertwining with the scent of dusty pages and bound leather. Silence stretched between you two.

"Remember what you said to me? That I would be the one to protect you until you figured it all out?" For a moment, a sheer vulnerability flickered in Megumi's eyes, barely perceptible, yet achingly palpable, before it was sheathed again behind a veil of stoic resolve. "Let me be that person."

A lump formed in your throat, stubborn and obstructive. Despite the desperate tug of fatigue on your senses, Megumi's words seemed to pierce through the haze, demanding to be heard, felt, and acknowledged.

You stared at him, the intensity in his dark eyes sending shivers down your spine. The silent library, now seeming more like an observer, awaited your response, its shelves heavy with knowledge and stories of epochs gone by, of struggles and victories, losses and finds.

"Megumi—" Your voice was barely audible.

He leaned in, the space between you shrinking until it was a blur.

"Let me help you."

The simplicity of his request, his words echoed in your mind, honest and unembellished. Your heart raced as you felt his unwavering gaze upon you, his pure presence so close, and in that moment a heat wave cascaded through your body. Maybe it was time to release the grip on your pride, to accept that vulnerability did not equate to weakness. 

For so long, you had carried the weight of your burdens alone, believing that independence was your only salvation. But now, as you gazed into his eyes, you saw something different—a genuine offer of support and understanding.

"Ok, but don't complain later," you said, a smile gracing your features.

Megumi nodded solemnly, though his eyes twinkled with gentle amusement. "I won't. I promise."

"But you know, there's one condition."

Your eyebrows arched upwards. "Condition?"

He straightened, adopting a stern expression that seemed almost comically out of place given his generally reserved demeanor. "You have to promise to stop sneaking out to the library in the middle of the night and depriving yourself of sleep. That's non-negotiable."

"What if I find a different place to sneak off to? Like the kitchen?"

Megumi's stern façade cracked, revealing a soft chuckle that warmed the room with its genuine timbre. "Well, at least in the kitchen, you might be compelled to eat something, so it's a step in the right direction."

"Ok, deal!"

Leaning back in your chair, you stretched your arms, attempting to ease the stiffness that clung to your weary muscles. A slight smile lingered on your lips, basking in the gentle relationship that had subtly unfolded between you.

You hadn't realised how much you'd needed it—this connection, his support, always unwavering no matter what, ease amidst the chaos. It was a gentle reminder that you weren't alone on this journey, and perhaps, accepting help wasn't a concession of defeat, but rather a brave step.

Wait

"—but you have to tell Satoru."

Megumi's expression changed to an unusually mischievous grin. "I think we will be fine."

****

In the hushed azure glow of early dawn, a veil of calmess blanketed the training grounds. Megumi and you stood amidst this tranquility, the silence punctuated only by the soft rustling of leaves under a gentle breeze, and your synchronized breaths, clouding in the brisk morning air. At this early hour, you were far from prying eyes and the scrutinising gaze of Satoru.

"Ready?"

You nodded slightly, your hand tightly gripping the hilt of a katana, its blade gleaming faintly in the dim light. Megumi, standing at a cautious distance, observed intently, his demeanour radiating a reassuring calm.

You took a deep, stabilising breath, centering yourself amidst the tumultuous tide of cursed energy within you. The katana served not as a weapon in this moment, but as a conduit, an extension of your being through which you sought to channel and regulate the wild stream of your power.

Your eyes fluttered shut, focusing inward on the tempestuous sea of cursed energy, feeling it churn and rage against your control. Subtly, you began to coax it, guiding it gently towards your arm and into the blade of the katana. The metal seemed to hum softly, vibrating faintly under the influx of energy. Beads of sweat formed on your forehead as you tried to control the flow of your cursed energy.

Megumi, his eyes reflecting the quiet strength that always seemed to surround him, spoke in a soft, steady tone, "Breathe. Let it flow through you, not against you."

Your breath hitched, then steadied, aligning with the subtle ebb and flow of the energy as it streamed through you, into the katana. The blade quivered slightly, resonating with the pulsations of your power. 

The connection held—a gleaming conduit of cursed energy seamlessly bridging you and the weapon, steadfast and enduring. With an exhale, eyelids fluttered open, and your gaze met Megumi's, his eyes shimmering with unvoiced encouragement and proudness.

Triumph, at long last! 

The preceding days had been a tapestry of rigorous trials, but control just out of reach, until now. Your attempts to master your cursed technique had always resulted in being consumed by its overwhelming surge, until Megumi proposed a theory that a cursed object might facilitate in channeling your erratic power. And indeed, it had.

Today marked the culmination of countless early morning training sessions with Megumi, where sweat and perseverance were your constant companions. Adrenaline coursed through you as your eyes flickered.

With a fluid, decisive motion, you elevated the katana, allowing it to slice through the air before it cascaded down, severing the scarecrow before you with an effortless ease. A shockwave rippled through the training ground, emanating from the blade with a tangible ferocity. It disrupted the stillness of the early morning, causing the foliage to shudder and the very earth beneath to quiver in its wake. 

Megumi's eyes widened, astonishment flashing through them. Not only had the scarecrow been cut in half—but the wall behind it and the earthbeneath it bore the undeniable marks of your strike. An indomitable rush of cursed energy coursed through you, yet, it did not seek to devour you as it once did. Instead, it yielded to your will, becoming an instrument of your focused intent.

"You did it!" Megumi hastened toward you, his hand tenderly encompassing yours on the katana, signalling a gentle reassurance to relax your taut grip, which had whitened your knuckles.

You nodded, a cascade of fatigue intertwining with the residual adrenaline. "Thanks to you."

He gently shook his head, a soft smile blooming upon his features. "This was all you. Your strength. Your determination."

Megumi, his fingers still gently encircling yours, guided your trembling hands—and the katana they clutched—downwards with tender care, allowing you to disengage from the weapon, both metaphorically and physically.

As the blade met the ground with a melodic chime, its reverberation through the still air was nearly drowned by the frantic beating of your heart. The tangible warmth from his touch enveloped your hand, contradicting the chill of the metal beneath your fingers and soothing the quivers that shuddered through you.

"I couldn't have done it without you."

Indeed. Megumi, with his unwavering gaze and constant support, had become an unwavering pillar during your tumultuous journey. He embodied a home in the midst of chaos. Your soul ached with the longing for him to see you in a similar light, to recognise in you the same home and friendship he so generously gave you.

He countered softly, "I merely observed. You did the effort."

"Will you just accept a compliment for once, Megumi?"

A genuine chuckle bubbled from your lips, a lightness that you hadn't felt in so long time. And then, Yuji and Nobara entered, dressed in their school uniforms, and broke the serenity with their cheerful urgency. "Time's ticking, let's roll!"

Their gazes flickered to the subtle intertwinement of your hands with Megumi's, before being irresistibly drawn to the pronounced remnants of destruction adorning the training area. Nobara's mouth agape, she mustered, "I'm guessing you got the hang of it?"

"It seems so!" you beamed.

Yuji's eyes, alight with unbridled admiration and shimmering like distant stars, gazed upon you as if you had adorned a cape and mask, emerging as a beloved superhero from a realm of dreams and tales. "I need to hear all about this!"

"Class first," Megumi interjected.

But your only contribution to the day's class was the harmonious symphony of your steady breathing, intertwined with Megumi's, as slumber swiftly claimed you both. Sitting side by side, shoulders nearly touching, you allowed the gentle cadence of his breaths, subtly syncing with yours, to lull you into a well-deserved rest amidst the crowded classroom. 

Megumi, despite the stoic facade he often wore, succumbed to the fatigue as well, his proximity providing a sense of tranquility that allowed the both of you a moment of peaceful respite. The rest of the class might be whispering, speculating, but in this shared tranquility, the world outside ceased to matter.

****

Sunlight dappled through the leaves overhead, casting a mottled shadow upon the café table where you all sat. The air was animated with the pleasant hum of conversation and the occasional clink of cutlery against plates.

A gentle breeze wafted through, carrying with it the sweet scent of autumn, an easy familiarity enveloping the group as you all enjoyed a brief respite from the rigours of your responsibilities as Jujutsu sorcerers—a rare moment of peace away from curses and training.

Yuji's hands fluttered about as he spoke, acting out the scene for added dramatic effect. "Picture this: I spot an old lady, seemingly distressed, and I'm thinking—convinced—that she's being plagued by a curse. I was all geared up, ready for a tussle," he paused, eyes gleaming with a mischievous, yet slightly embarrassed twinkle, "—only to discover it was just a super ugly dog!"

Nobara's laughter exploded in the tranquil outdoor space, a hand hastily dabbing at the laughter-induced tear meandering down her cheek. "Yuji, seriously? Only you could get into such a mess!"

Chuckling, you playfully chided him, "Of all the crazy things you've done, Yuji, mistaking a dog for a curse might top the list."

"In my defense—," he began, puffing his chest out with a brazen grin painted across his face, "—it was gigantic and emanated this bizarre, sorta eerie aura, okay?"

Megumi fought back a burgeoning grin. "None of that explains why you're 20 minutes late though, does it?"

"It does!" Yuji insisted, nodding vehemently. "I was primed to attack, right? But the grandma thought I was a mugger or something, and started assaulting me with her purse!"

Nobara nearly spit out her drink, gasping between her laughter. "She did what? Yuji, you're an absolute catastrophe!"

Yuji shrugged, unabashed. "You have no idea—I was legitimately fighting for my life out there!"

You leaned back in your chair, your laughter mingling with that of your friends, relishing the lightness of the moment. It was these times—times when you could forget the darkness, the curses, and the constant looming threat that shadowed your existence as Jujutsu sorcerers—that felt like a balm to your weary soul.

In the midst of the lively chatter and laughter, your phone vibrated subtly against the tabletop. Unnoticed by the others, its screen lit up, an unread message blinking in the upper corner. Satoru.

Your eyes flicked down, momentarily drawn away from Yuji's animated recounting, but you resisted the urge to pick up the device. The moment was too precious, too infused with a rare lightness that you were reluctant to shatter with the encroachment of him.

So, you allowed yourself to be swept back into the narratives of bizarre encounters and near-miss adventures your friends so lively shared.

Several minutes ticked by, but eventually, curiosity coerced your attention back to the device. Your fingers hesitated, then gently swiped the message open.

"Pack your bags. We leave in an hour".

HA?

Indignation flickered through you, a spark of rebellion against his presumptive demand. Why, exactly, should you jump at his command? Satoru was hardly one to require assistance, a point he'd demonstrated time and again. Thus, you opted to dismiss his message, submerging yourself back into the cheerful flow of your friends' banter.

However, your screen flickered once more.

"Playing hard to get, are we?"

HAAA?

Your jaw tightened. His audacity, it seemed, knew no bounds. Your fingers danced across the display with a fierce intensity. "Handle it yourself, you jerk."

The digital space enveloped in silence, your bold words lingered unanswered, suspended in a virtual abyss for an agonizingly elongated thirty minutes. Then, starkly and without warning, a shadow—imposing and uninvited—unfolded across the table.

"Time to go." Satoru's voice cut through the chatter, his eyes lingering on yours.

You must be kidding me.

Your eyes narrowed, a rebellion burning in your gaze. "I told you, Satoru, I'm not—"

But before the sentence could fully form on your lips, a swift, well-practiced movement from him had you lifted over his shoulder, the world tilting as you were hoisted over his broad shoulder with a grace that belied his strength.

"SATORU!" Your voice came out as an outraged scream, flustered and completely confused by the audacious maneuver. Your hands beat against his back in a futile protest, legs kicking air as he strolled—all too casually—toward his car.

"Feisty as ever, my love," he retorted, a playful smirk curling along his lips, entirely undisturbed by your vehement protestations.

"Put me down, you asshole!"

Satoru's voice, low and for your ears only, murmured against your skin, "You have a unique talent for testing my patience with your stubbornness, you know".

****

Your fingers glided across your phone's screen, crafting a brief message to Megumi: "I'm okay. Probably." Exhaling deeply, you could feel your shoulders gently relent their tension, sinking a little more into the car seat.

Your eyes wandered towards Satoru, stopping at his unexpected, but undeniably attractive, casual attire. The fabric of his white shirt, unexpectedly sheer against his skin, clung to the sculpted curves of his muscular arms, the sleeves mischievously forced upwards, stopping just below his elbows.

Dark, meticulously tailored dress trousers adorned his legs, providing a stark contrast and a subtle edge to the otherwise relaxed ensemble. It was such a departure from his typical attire that it was enough to make your stomach clench.

Your thoughts fluttered, curiously picking at the threads of his unexpected choice of clothing. Sensing your silent scrutiny, a flicker of mischief flashed in Satoru's eyes.

"Not gonna ask?"

"Is there a way out if I do?"

With an amused curve of his mouth, he simply said, "Nope."

You sank even deeper into your seat. "Alright, guess I'll just roll with it."

Your gaze lingered on him a moment longer, silently tracing the contours of his frame. Watching him drive was an unfamiliar sight. His control over the vehicle, his hand steady on the wheel. You didn't even know he had a licence.

Your fingers unconsciously moved to your mouth, nibbling lightly on your nails. "Logically, there's no reason I should accompany you on a mission."

His response was almost too nonchalant, "Maybe I get lonely without you."

"We both know that's far from the truth."

"Is it?" His eyes lingered on you, perhaps a tad too long for your comfort. Silence sprawled out between you, a tangible tension weaving through it.

"I told you I wouldn't leave your side," he spoke, his jaw visibly tightening, "—so, if I must leave for a mission, you're coming with me."

"That's ridiculous, Satoru. I've been doing just fine these past few weeks without your protection."

His tone carried a weight that feathered across your skin. "You really have no idea, do you?"

Your brow quirked. "Huh?"

His voice dropped, low and sore. "You think I wasn't watching your every step these last weeks? Observing every early morning training with Megumi, every single time his hands dared to graze your skin, every dinner you had in town, and every second you slept soundly through the night?"

And then, it hit you—Satoru looked tired. Not the usual 'I've had a long day' kind of tired, but something deeper, something that maybe only you could spot in that moment. His eyes flickered with a subtle fatigue that crinkled softly at their edges. A kind of weariness you hadn't seen before, tiredness that made your heart ache.

His defenses momentarily quelled, Satoru, for once, was laid bare before you—not as the unassailable figure he perennially projected, but simply as a man who wanted to protect the one he loved.

"I didn't ask you to."

His muscles tensed, eyes hard yet a flicker of something softer lingered within them. "You don't have to. I'm protecting what's mine."

The atmosphere thickened, tension hanging palpable between you, your senses acutely aware of every detail: the slightly too tight grip of his fingers on the steering wheel, the subtle frown marking his brows, the rhythm of his breath, even the pulsing of his steady heartbeat. Your own, meanwhile, stuttered erratically.

Your response was a mere breath, barely trespassing upon the charged air. "We're friends, Satoru."

He glanced at you, a slow, deliberate move, his eyes, in that brief, fleeting moment, bared a vulnerability that you'd never seen—or perhaps never noticed—before.

"Yes, Friends," he murmured, turning his focus back to the road, a subtle shiver threading through his words.

The remainder of the drive was bathed in an uncomfortable silence. Each passing mile seemed to stretch on indefinitely, the only accompaniment being the low hum of the car's engine and the gentle rhythm of tires rolling over the asphalt.

The landscape outside shifted, transitioning from urban sprawl to open countryside, yet its beauty went largely unnoticed. For your part, you gazed out of the window, eyes unfocused, taking in the world without truly seeing it.

Every so often, you'd steel yourself to steal a glance in Satoru's direction. But each time, you were met with that same guarded expression, that same set jawline that spoke of a man grappling with thoughts. The defeated look in his eyes behind the glasses unbearable.

It hurt. Even after all this time.

****

The car eased into a secluded area, obscured by looming trees and doused in the tranquil blanket of the nighttime. The destination, it seemed, was far removed from the bustling life and inherent dangers that typically accompanied Satoru's missions.

As the engine hummed to a stop, a tranquil silence enveloped the surroundings, providing a stark contrast to the tempest of emotions swirling within the car's confines.

You exhaled, a slow release of breath you hadn't realized you'd been holding, as you unbuckled the seatbelt and gently pushed the car door open, the night's cool air softly caressing your skin.

Satoru exited the car, opened the trunk, revealing an array of bags and equipment. Drawn closer, your eyes were captured by a bag distinctly familiar—indubitably yours. "You packed for me?" You blinked in veiled surprise, a playful undertone weaving through your words, "And you ventured into my room?"

His eyes met yours, a boyish grin playing effortlessly on his lips. "Nothing I haven't seen before".

Privacy—a potential discussion, yet now shelved for a later debrief. Your intent to claim the bag was thwarted by his swift procurement of both yours and his own, fluidly securing them as he shut the trunk. His form began its progression towards the lodge, barely visible in the shadows of this remote area.

"Satoru?" Your voice gently perforated the night as you followed him. "What the hell is this mission all about?"

He exhaled, the faintest hint of hesitation coloring his admission. "They needed someone strong for this curse," his words, though hushed and contemplative, held an edge, "—it's a bit more complex than the usual."

Alarm flickered through you, eyes instinctively darting towards him. "So, is it really smart for me to be here, especially with a strong curse floating around?"

He paused, swiveling toward you, the stupid smile still lingering on his lips. "With me around, you'll probably be fine."

"Your God Complex is showing, Satoru."

You approached the lodge, a cozy albeit slightly worn-down building nestled in the heart of the remote area. As they stepped inside the lodge, the decor screamed of a charmingly rustic aesthetic, making you chuckle.

There was a quaint charm in its dated wallpaper and the creaky wooden floors beneath your feet. You glanced around, noting the relatively vacant environment, save for an elderly gentleman behind the counter.

Satoru approached the front desk. "Reservation for Gojo," he declared, a confident smirk etched onto his features.

The elderly man peered at you both over his spectacles, a curious twinkle in his eyes, before glancing down at the reservation book. "Ah, yes. The honeymoon suite. Quite a popular choice for young couples."

You choked on the air, "Honeymoon what?"

Satoru simply flashed a dazzling smile your way, ignoring the disbelief painted across your face. "That's right."

"But we're not—" you began, only to be cut off by Satoru's arm snaking around your waist, pulling you slightly closer.

He leaned in, his voice taking on a saccharine-sweet tone, "Love, you know it's silly to book separate rooms now that we're married."

"Married?!" You barely managed to keep your voice steady, throwing him a mock glare. "In what universe, Satoru?"

"In this one, apparently," he whispered, mischief lighting up his eyes.

What's wrong with his man.

As the gentleman handed Satoru a key with an approving nod, you turned to the gentleman, offering an apologetic smile. "I'm so sorry about him. We're not really—"

"Sweetheart, don't apologize. Let's not make a scene," Satoru interjected, shooting you a sly wink as he gently tugged you away from the counter, key in hand.

Finding yourself weaving through a corridor, guided by his assertive yet gentle touch on your back. Satoru's fingers enveloped the quaint, antique key, turning it in the lock with a soft click. The door gently swung open, revealing a room awash in the gentle glow of ambient lighting, the delicate scent of roses permeating the air.

You blinked at the sight that unfolded before you. The room, undeniably beautiful, was adorned in what could only be described as quintessential honeymoon décor. A lavish bed, blanketed in delicate rose petals, stood as the room's focal point, while a scattering of softly flickering candles cast a gentle, romantic light across the space.

You could only stare, a combination of disbelief and amusement dancing in your eyes as you took in the careful, romantic arrangement that had clearly been made with a newlywed couple in mind.

Turning toward Satoru, you caught the barely-contained chuckle in his throat, his eyes shimmering with an undeniable joy.

"Satoru, what on earth—"

Carelessly, he strolled into the room, carefully setting down the bags before theatrically collapsing onto the petal-strewn bed with a contented sigh. "I know what you're thinking," he began, his words slightly muffled by the plush bedding, "but this was the best room they had."

"And it didn't occur to you to mention that we aren't married?"

He propped himself up on his elbows, a smirk curling at his lips. "The look on your face? Absolutely worth it."

"You're ridiculous, you know that?" you parried, leaning against the doorframe, "Didn't it cross your mind to book two rooms?"

He sat up, meeting your gaze steadily. "You think I'd let you sleep alone in another room when there's a strong curse lurking around?"

Your eyes narrowed suspiciously. "You didn't have any ulterior motives in mind?"

He raised a hand, palm facing forward in a gesture of innocence. "I swear."

Sure.

But it was there—a subtle flicker in his eyes, and you found yourself inexorably drawn towards him despite your resolve. Your heart pulsed with a gentle yearning, fluttering softly against the protective walls you'd so carefully built. To be drawn to him, to be seduced by his unspoken words, and at the same time to fight to protect yourself from his potential pain—that was torture.

His allure was not simply physical but an emotional, magnetic pull that tugged at something deep within you, something that perhaps, you weren't entirely ready to acknowledge or explore. Every soft smile he shared, every lingering look, they pricked at your defenses, causing minuscule fractures in the fortress safeguarding your heart.

"We're friends, Satoru."

His expression sobered, the playful gleam now subdued, "I'm trying my best to remember that."

You stepped into the room, your footsteps soft against the lush carpet. Rose petals were scattered across the white duvet, and a bottle of champagne chilled in a silver bucket beside a small bouquet of flowers on a table near the window.

Struggling to maintain a serious demeanor amidst the clearly romantic setup, a playful smirk teased at your lips.

"Should I start calling you 'husband' then, if we're playing the part?"

But the levity of your comment seemed to falter in the air, as you noticed the subtle catch in his throat and the way his jaw clenched for a moment. "Forget it," you quickly amended, reaching for the champagne, eager to introduce a new focus. "We should get this open."

He offered a half-smile, a shadow of his earlier mischief lingering. "I'm not much of a drinker."

"Fantastic," you returned, easing the cork from the bottle, "more for me, then."

Oh, it was going to take a fair amount of alcohol to get through this night.

****

The gentle hum of inebriation softened the edges of the world around you as you lounged languidly in an armchair, a half-empty bottle of champagne cradled in your hand. Satoru, with all his languorous grace, sprawled across the bed, an inscrutable gaze fastened intently upon you.

"And then—then, Yuji, he—he looked at this giant poodle, right? And he was so sure, Satoru, so sure that it was a curse!"

A guffaw erupted from Satoru, his form undulating with the force of his laughter, the sound a warm, vibrant echo in the romantically adorned room. But his eyes, oh, those eyes, never veered from you. A simmering intensity, an emotion undefinable yet visceral, lingered within them, caressing you with a tenderness that teetered on the brink of too much.

In your tipsy state, the narrative continued to weave through flares of hilarity and absurdity, "—he was so ready to exorcise that poor dog! Had his stance and everything!"

But even amid the mirth, you were wholly aware of Satoru's gaze, the steady beam of his attention, undeterred and unyielding. It was almost too potent, the way his eyes seared into you, both exhilarating and terrifying in equal measure.

As the echoes of your laughter dwindled, replaced by the palpable silence burgeoning with unspoken words, you shifted in your seat, a meek defense against the onslaught of his unrelenting gaze.

Heart raced, yet you found your voice, albeit wobbly, "Don't—don't look at me like that, Satoru."

He propped himself up on his elbows, the soft glow of the room's ambient lighting gilding his form with a tender, almost magical aura. His voice, smooth and laced with a sincerity that pierced through the alcoholic haze. "Like what?"

"Like—," a pause lingered, a fragile thing suspended amidst the serenity and the storm both threatening and promising to engulf you, "—like I'm your everything."

His eyes softened, yet the intensity within them did not wane, merely transmuting into something even more intense.

"You are—," he whispered, a simple confession, yet laced with an undertone of bitterness, "You are everything to me."

And there it lingered, suspended amidst the petals and the soft glow of the room.

"Don't say that."

"Don't ask then."

"That's not fair."

"Maybe." He began to stand, each deliberate step towards you echoing in the charged silence, "But here, we don't have to hide," he murmured, closing the diminishing gap between you, "—here, we're just a man and a woman, a married couple far from Tokyo."

"I hate you," the words, a tender contradiction, drifted into the delicate space separating your lips from his.

"I know," he breathed, his arms coming to rest on either side of your chair, imprisoning yet protective, "—I can accept that, as long as you'resafe."

His proximity was a furnace igniting every nerve ending into a frenzied state of awareness. Retreat was a tempting illusion, his nearness a siren's call inviting surrender, stirring a turmoil of restrained desires. He lingered on the precipice, an intricate dance of restraint and desire reflected in eyes that quietly pleaded and promised all in a single glance.

"We should get some rest," though his voice was steady, his eyes, drowning in restrained longing, told an entirely different story.

"Satoru—," your voice wavered, trembling against the temptation mere breaths away. Your neck arched so sharply to maintain that intoxicating proximity to his lips, you almost winced. Every exhale of his brushed warmly against your lips, every shaky inhale felt like it was drawing you in further, until you were both just teetering on that razor-sharp edge between giving in and holding back.

"I know," his breath, shaky, warm, against your lips, "I hate it too."

Your whole body was practically screaming under the strain, your neck pulled tight in a delicate arch to stay that close to him, muscles trembling with the effort. Your breaths mingled in the tiny space between you, hitched and ragged, a testament to the sheer restraint being exercised in maintaining that fragile distance.

It was like an invisible force field held you apart, despite the fact your entire being seemed to magnetically pull towards him.

In his gaze, the world beyond seemed to dissolve, its warnings rendered moot, every ounce of attention fixed on the gentle caress of breath against skin, and eyes that held worlds of silent pleas and promises. And there you lingered, a breath away from falling, from surrender, lost in a gaze that bore the weight of emotions unvoiced, yet palpably felt in every charged particle of the air around you.

With a shuddering breath, Satoru turned away, creating an immediate, almost tangible void where the warmth of his proximity once lingered. The room seemed to shrink around you, every rose petal, every softly glowing light now feeling impossibly distant and blurred by the sudden pain in your veins.

In that instant, a bitter realization came, more profound and cutting than any epiphany before—there wasn't a place on this Earth where you could flee to escape him, the deep-seated pain that his mere presence elicited within you.

Inside you, longing wove a tapestry of pain, wrapping tightly around every thought and emotion until you were bound by it, held captive by the silent cries of a heart pushed to its limit.

****

A harsh splash of water against tiles jolted you from your precarious perch between wakefulness and the somber sanctuary of sleep. Dazed, you blinked into the semi-darkness, the remnants of last night's melancholy wrapping itself around you like a shroud, heavy and all too familiar.

Your head throbbed, the remnants of alcohol-induced haze still coursing through your veins and the fragmented memories of the night before slowly knitting themselves back together in your consciousness. Satoru. The tenderness in his eyes, the tangible yearning that hovered in the space between you, and the impassable wall that came crashing down.

You pushed yourself into a sitting position, a hand gently massaging your temple as you tried to steady the world that seemed to be insisting on tipping off its axis.

The romantic ambiance was gone, every candle extinguished, every rose petal swept away.

Moments later, the bathroom door creaked open, unleashing a waft of steam that lazily swirled into the bedroom. Satoru emerged, a single towel slung low around his hips, droplets of water tracing paths down his defined torso.

His hair, darker when wet, clung to his forehead in damp tendrils. His eyes shining as always as they met yours, without sunglasses or a blindfold clouding them.

"Good morning."

Satoru's voice broke through your haze, his signature cockiness more comforting than you'd like to admit. Your eyes narrowed slightly, though the effect was somewhat lost given your state.

"Is it?" you replied, groaning as you held a hand to your aching head.

Without a word, he flipped an aspirin in your direction. "—for the headache."

One won't be enough, probably.

Your eyes tracked him, watching as he ambled around the room, gathering his clothes. The low-slung towel from earlier had been replaced, but the image remained, and you couldn't help but sneak a glance or two.

"That's sexual harassment, you know?"

You smirked, echoing his words from the night before. "Nothing I haven't seen before."

Swinging your legs over the edge of the bed, you padded over to your bag, sifting through for something to wear after your impending shower.

From the bathroom, his voice echoed slightly, muffled by the walls. "What do you want for breakfast?"

The thought of food made your stomach flip. "Just coffee."

He reappeared in the doorway, now fully dressed, shooting you an incredulous look. "Coffee isn't breakfast."

"It is."

"You're something else, you know that?"

"I'll take that as a compliment."

Navigating the space, you drew closer to him. The room felt smaller, charged. As you reached the bathroom door, he made way for you. There was a moment, a fleeting brush of shoulders, a shared breath. The memories of last night heavily in the air.

Not now, you thought, not today. But in the depths of your heart, you wondered if there'd ever be a day when he wouldn't affect you quite this way.

Chilled air grazed your bare skin as you exited the bathroom, a cascade of water trailing down from your damp hair. Clad only in underwear and pants, you aimed an exasperated yell into the calm ambiance of the room, "Satoru, where did you put all my tops?!"

He barely glanced up from his phone, unbothered by the urgency in your voice, or the semi-exposed state he found you in. "Maybe I put them in my bag," he responded, a casual lilt to his voice that only slightly betrayed his intrigue.

Your feet padded softly on the floor, moving towards his bag. The brief journey across the room felt extensive under his subtle scrutiny.

"Here they are," you mumbled, mostly to yourself, feeling a strange twinge in your stomach at the unintentional intimacy of mingled belongings.

Retreating back to the bathroom, a soft inquiry tethered you in place. "Does it still hurt?"

You paused, instinctually knowing his eyes traced the rugged line of the scar that blazed a path down your back. "It doesn't."

"You know Shoko could fix that."

Facing him, your eyes locked onto his. "I don't want her to fix it. It's a reminder that this world is not fair."

"You're just torturing yourself."

Sardonic laughter barely crept into your voice as you met his accusation, "Takes one to know one, huh?"

Silence settled between you, perforated only by the soft drips of water from your hair to the floor. He averted his eyes from yours as he rose, a newfound stiffness in his posture. "I'll wait outside," he mumbled, sidestepping the invisible barrier that had grown between you. Wrapping yourself in a top, you exhaled a breath you didn't realize you'd been holding, the fabric gently brushing against the scar.

Heading Downstairs, the murmur of the morning crowd in the dining room was a soothing hum, the scent of freshly brewed coffee wafting through the air, providing a semblance of normalcy. Through the window, Satoru's form etched against the emerging light of the day on the terrace.

The crisp breeze kissed your skin with its autumn chill as you stepped outside, hastily pulling on your jacket. His eyes lifted to meet yours, his wet hair grazing his forehead, providing a fleeting distraction from the intensity of his gaze.

"Black coffee, your 'breakfast'," he said softly, a warm cup extending towards you.

Accepting the cup, your fingers fluttered momentarily against his. "Thank you."

His eyes, devoid of their usual shield, met yours with a nakedness that was almost too raw to behold. "Skipping the sunglasses today?"

A part of you missed the familiar shield that his sunglasses provided, granting you a reprieve from the depth of his gaze, that seemed to always see too much, feel too much.

He sighed, eyes briefly diverting towards the distant horizon, "Something's amiss today."

"What do you mean?"

"I can't place it," he mused, bringing the cup to his lips, "—but I want to be prepared, especially with you here."

Satoru. Stop.

"And the curse we're hunting?"

A momentary stillness enveloped him before he spoke, "It's already here." His stance subtly shifted as he eased away from the railing.

Huh?

"Stay back," his eyebrows knitting together even as a cynical smile played upon his lips. "—we're dealing with a special grade cursed spirit."

HUH?

Satoru's piercing eyes flickered a mere second before chaos erupted, an immense force shattering the serenity of the morning. With an almost imperceptible movement, he was before you, his shimmering, vast, cursed energy unfolding with devastating beauty. The cursed spirit, grotesque and dripping with malevolent energy, lunged with astonishing speed, aiming directly at you.

Just as the malevolent force was about to collide, Satoru parried, an invisible barrier of his own cursed energy deflecting most of the blow. Still, the residual shockwave was devastating, bursting outward, a storm of shattered timber and screaming metal splitting the once-silent dawn.

The lodge behind you was violently engulfed, splinters of wood and shards of glass scattered, suspended as if time itself had been torn apart. For a second you stood, frozen in the midst of the devastation, a stage set of wreckage all around you.

"Help the people escape!" His voice, amidst the chaos, was an unwavering command.

Your limbs, though trembling, pushed you backward, the adrenaline sharpening your senses. As you pulled away, the fight between Satoru and the cursed spirit intensified, their movements almost too fast and brutal to discern, intertwined flashes of cursed energy colliding and recoiling with devastating effect.

Panic. Chaos.

Sirens wail in the depths of your ears as shrapnel from the once idyllic lodge sprays across the landscape, razor sharp and merciless. No time. No time to process the hellish scene as your body moved on an instinctive impulse, hurtling through the carnage.

Smoke and dust clogged your lungs, your eyes, and yet through the sting you saw them—a huddled mass of terrified faces, trapped beneath a grotesque sculpture of shattered wood and twisted metal.

Adrenaline drove you forward, hands working with feverish precision, tossing aside the wreckage, clutching desperately at the shivering bodies beneath. The child's tear-streaked face is etched in your memory, wide eyes piercing through the chaos, seeing salvation in your outstretched hand.

"Move!" you shouted, your voice a whip that cut through the chaos, sending the child sprinting towards the tree line.

Behind you, an unholy thunder, a tempest of cursed energy and malevolence that blackened the sky, twisted and turned, the battle between specters and the spectral, unseen but felt in every thunderous crash, every shockwave that rattled through the splintering earth. 

The child—stumbling, crying—disappeared into the embrace of the forest, its safety a cold comfort against the war raging behind you. A fleeting glance towards Satoru, you saw him, a symphony of power and finesse, every strike, every dodge a testament to his immense skill.

But the cursed spirit was relentless, an embodiment of pure malevolence, unleashing wave after wave of harrowing attacks, each one threatening to dismantle the very earth on which they fought.

Why doesn't he lure the curse away? If he continues to fight so close they will kill these people here. But there was no time to think.

Another trapped, another to save.

In the rubble, a man cried out, blood streaking down his face, his leg trapped by a massive beam, splintered and impaled on the shattered floor. The acrid stench of charred wood burned your nostrils as you rushed toward him, dodging the remains of a once sturdy structure now reduced to a death trap.

You grabbed the beam, muscles screaming, splinters embedded in your palms as you heaved with every ounce of your strength. The wood groaned but stubbornly held, the man's screams growing louder, cutting through the din of the ongoing battle.

"Hang on!" You screamed through clenched teeth, your veins pulsing as your eyes desperately scanned the wreckage for something, anything, to use as leverage.

The man's hand gripped your ankle, his eyes, wide and terrified, locked with yours, a silent plea etched into every crease of his pain-stricken face. A fresh explosion detonated behind you, a sinister crescendo of cursed energy that sent shadows dancing wildly through the chaos.

Debris, relentless and indiscriminate, rained down as the remains of the lodge groaned ominously, threatening imminent collapse. In this perilous moment, the bitter taste of despair clawed at your throat, every second a taunt against the relentless march of time.

Weak. Weak. Weak. Weak.

Swallowing hard, your eyes traced the cruel angle of the beam, down to where it impaled flesh and bone, understanding, reluctant and horrified, blooming in your chest. Your hands, slick with sweat and stained with his blood, trembled.

"We have to," you began, voice barely a whisper, your words choked by a thick knot in your throat, "I have to—your leg, I..."

His eyes, already dulling with agony, flickered with an understanding just as terrible. "Do it," he breathed, a single tear escaping to trail down his cheek, "please."

Shuddering, you reached to your side, your fingers closing around the hilt of your blade. Its familiar, cool touch offered no comfort as you lifted it, the steel glinting ominously amidst the wreckage. You steadied your hand, whispered a hoarse apology into the desperate silence, and lowered the blade.

A scream, raw and soul-shattering, tore through the air, intertwining with a sound you hadn't realized was your own sobbing until your vision blurred with tears. You turned away, the sight of his newly freed, mutilated form too much, but the haunting echo of his agony remained, an indelible stain on your conscience.

Adrenaline coursed through your veins as you tightly wrapped your jacket around the man's bleeding stump, trying to staunch the flow.

"Stay with me," you whispered, voice barely steady, hands shaking as you worked, nothing left of your usual surgical precision.

Then a sudden, intense presence emerged behind you. "Found you."

Panic struck as the malevolent presence loomed, its aura sickeningly oppressive, instantly suffocating the area. Your heart raced, pulsing violently against your ribs as the enormous curse lunged forward, a sinister grin distorting its hideous features.

Your hand wrapped around the hilt of your blade, instinctively positioning your body between the injured man and the approaching curse.

No time. No options.

You thrust your katana up, deflecting his hideous blow with a guttural scream, the impact reverberating violently through your bones. Your name, a tortured scream, echoed from afar—Satoru, fighting, reaching, his eyes burning with fear.

But he was bound, more curses leaping into his path, sneering, cackling, weaving a sinister barricade between you. His blows were deadly, precise, but for every curse he struck, another rose, an endless tide of malevolence keeping him at bay.

It was a trap.

But you would not fall here.

Not today.

The wind screamed through broken windows, carrying shards of splintered wood and glass. The hollow, menacing gaze of the curse pierced into you, an abyss of malevolence that saw you, saw through you. With a swift, voracious energy, it lunged again. 

Your legs tensed, foot slammed forward. The curse was sent sliding back across a minefield of shattered remains. Without hesitation, your katana was a silver flash, striking, aiming to extinguish the threat in an instant.

The curse howled, agony and rage intertwining in its grotesque features. Yet, in a mere heartbeat, the curse was back on its feet, lunging into another assault.

Your breath hitched as the curse's claws barely missed your torso, grazing your arm instead. Blood, vivid and scarlet, sprayed into the cold air, staining your clothing and grounding the pain in reality. Stumbling backwards, you fought against the fog of agony that tried to cloud your vision, gritting your teeth to keep a scream behind them. Memories, ghosts of Satoru's words, haunted the chaos of your mind.

You can't always rely on physical strength alone.

Sweat trickled down your forehead and mingled with the blood that now traced a warm path down your limb. Fingers, slick with your own blood, clenched around your katana as you forced coherence through the throbbing pain.

You can't always rely on physical strength alone.

Again. And again. Every muscle screamed, echoing the haunting refrain.

You can't always rely on physical strength alone.

Another slash. Another barely dodged blow from the curse as your muscles began to betray you, weakening with each passing moment. All that remained through the chaos was the distant, pained echo of your name, haunting your ears.

You can't always rely on physical strength alone.

The curse unleashed a assault, nearly driving you to your knees. With every ounce of your remaining strength, you parried its vicious claws with your blade, barely preventing your own beheading.

You can't always rely on physical strength alone.

I will not fall here.

You can't always rely on physical strength alone.

Not today.

You can't always rely on physical strength alone.

Satoru's distant screams, calling your name, echoed through the chaos.

You can't always rely on physical strength alone.

You can't always rely on physical strength alone.

You can't always rely on physical strength alone.

NOT TODAY.

Cursed energy. Your own cursed energy. Dark, powerful, consuming, it tore through you, an infernal storm that threatened to swallow you whole. Fury and pain. Your katana sank into the curse, this dark, roiling energy rippling outward, contaminating everything it touched with devastating precision. But even as the creature before you disintegrated into the abyss, the torrent of cursed power refused to dissipate.

Your whole being throbbed with it, wild, uncontrolled, an explosion held back only by the fragile remnants of your sanity. It screamed through your veins, a cataclysmic tide that threatened to pull you under and tear apart everything left in its wake.

"Suppress it!" Satoru's voice, once a distant echo, now pierced through the chaos, frighteningly close, yet muffled beneath the tumult.

Satoru was there, appearing like a ghost through the remaining mist of the extinguished curse, his eyes wide, reflecting the chaos that enveloped you. His voice cracked with rawness as he shouted your name, fear running through every syllable.

"Stop it! It's over!" His words pierced the howling in your ears, desperate, pleading. But the maelstrom within resisted, rebelled against the confines of control, searing through you with a malevolence that burned every nerve, every fiber of your being.

Satoru, despair etched into every line of his face, lunged forward, arms wrapping you in a protective shell as the cursed energy writhed, seeking escape, seeking destruction. His voice, a soothing sound amidst the chaos, whispered pleas in your ear. "It's over."

And there, wrapped within the sanctuary of his arms, something inside you quivered, flickered beneath the storm. His warmth seeped through, a sharp contrast against the biting cold of the cursed power that still surged around you.

But the cursed energy of yours, began to snake through him, his infinity struggling, wavering beneath its cruel, insidious touch. You could feel it, hear the choked gasp that escaped him as it clawed at his defenses, his body tensing against the unexpected assault.

He didn't release you, didn't retreat from the danger that now bled through you into him. Instead, he clung tighter, his words a lighthouse in the tempest's fury. "It's over. You can let it go."

And in that moment, with the scent of him surrounding you, his voice a desperate lifeline, something within you clenched, teetering on the precipice between control and catastrophe. The tidal wave of energy trembled, hanging suspended in that eternal instant, its devastating potential balanced against the fragile thread of your regained composure.

Suddenly, the torrent of cursed energy ceased as abruptly as it had been unleashed, as if snuffed out by some unseen force. It was a sudden silence, an eerie calm that replaced the maelstrom that had threatened to engulf everything in its path only moments before.

Your body, deprived of the storm that had raged through it, faded, all strength drained in the aftermath of the catastrophic tide.

Satoru, still holding you in the fortress of his arms, staggered slightly under your sudden weight, the exhale that escaped him something between relief and lingering fear. Your body was a limp entity in his embrace, your consciousness flickering.

Gently, carefully, he lowered you to the ground, his hands cupping your head, fingers brushing away strands of hair that clung to your sweat-soaked forehead. His voice, though calmer now, still trembled with the remnants of terror, his words a soft murmur against the silence that now pervaded the scene.

"Stay with me, love."

<- prev chapter | next chapter ->

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Breathe me in

requested: Can you please write a story where Azriel saves reader from drowning. +I added a little mission and reader being a badass.

warning: drowning, blood, injuries.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

As you made your way through the never-ending wall of rain, you started to wonder why all of you insisted that it was a great idea to continue the mission Rhys had given you today. The high lord warned you about the potential storm, and even if he didn't, you only needed to give the sky a look to know that it was bad news. But you went on with it, and now that your clothes were fully drenched, you wondered why you agreed after all.

Cassian was way ahead with Nesta. Even if the rule was to keep the Illyrian wings glamoured at all times, the general still had his wing stretched over his mate. Somewhat protecting her from the wind and shower. Azriel offered the same thing to you, but you refused it instantly. Even if it was silly. You liked him too much, and sitting so close to him felt too intimate, even if his body warmth would keep your teeth from clacking against each other. Sometimes you wondered if there was a possibility that he liked you too. You have known him for some time now. The girls constantly told you that you were just oblivious to the signs, but all of his gestures always seemed friendly, never like something more. You pulled yourself out of your head the moment your horse came to a halt.

 "What's wrong, boy?", you asked softly, even if you could name at least five things that were wrong at this particular moment. You rubbed the mount's neck, trying to see ahead. Your heart sank a little when your eyes didn't land on the shadow of Nesta and Cass in front of you or Azriel, who at all times kept to your left. "Guys!", you shouted worryingly, yet your voice died down. Washed away by the sound of rain. "Azriel", your heart started to beat faster with every passing second, "If you are just messing with me, it's not funny."

Yet you knew they wouldn't do that. Especially not now. But you needed to give yourself something. Anything before you lost yourself to the panic. You gently nudged the horse to move forward again. The shield of water only seemed to increase, completely blocking your view of what was around you. You tried to scream out for your friends again, but it got you nowhere. Only resulting in more and more frustration. You were about to scream for Azriel once again when someone launched full force into your side, sending you out of the saddle and onto the dirty ground.

Your head hit the surface, making your vision blur for a moment. Just enough to see your horse disappearing into the distance, startled by the attack. Attack. You tried to turn your head to the side, seeing a group of what you assumed to be males standing over you. One of them kneeled closer to you. Even from under the hood, you could see his smug face. Unfortunately for him, you didn't love when people looked at you like that, so you quickly inched your leg up, and kicked it right at his face.

That would have given you the upper hand to escape, but you only got a couple of feet from them, before multiple sets of hands snatched you once again, followed by the blade to your neck, "You pull any more stunts and I'll gut you from the inside out." You squirmed in their hold anyway. You were not going to go down without a fight. But your attempts got cut short when someone launched another blow to the back of your head, and everything went black.

Azriel was both: worried and slightly pissed when you refused to ride with him. Firstly, he didn't want you to get sick. And your "I'm a big girl" attitude was getting on his nerves slightly, especially when your health was involved. And secondly, he selfishly wanted to hold you close to him. Have a reason to do so. He just wanted to feel his warmth surrounding you. To know at any given moment you were safe. This rain clouded his senses as well. He felt more distressed and uneasy, so trying to ensure that all of you were safe was a task in itself.

The shadow singer turned his head your way. He tried to limit those glances at you because he knew that every one of them was edging you closer and closer to snapping at him for being too overprotective. But when his eyes didn't fall on your frame, his heart nearly stopped. Azriel turns his head to look behind him, hoping that you had just fallen behind the group, but no. No sign of you. The spymaster shouted for Cassian to stop. Riding back a little as he called your name frantically, "Where the fuck are you?", he mutters under his breath. "Let's go further back, maybe she got separated," but then the darker shadow inches closer, and Azriel pulls out his truth-teller. It was a horse. And Azriel almost wanted to let out a breath of relief until he saw an empty saddle. His shadows swirling around it. All the color drained from his face as the spymaster turned to the general, "She got attacked. They've got her."

You're thankful that they at least dragged you to what you believed was their camp. That sheltered you from the rain, and even if your wet clothes didn't fully let your body warm up, it was better than nothing. Your hands were chained in front of you, alongside your legs. With the right amount of motivation, you could probably escape but this was the male you were sent after. 

"Pretty poor look for the thief lord if you'd ask me", you snarled as the male, who you assumed was in the lead of this group, stepped into the room. A few of his men inched closer, but he brushed them away. "My apologies that it doesn't meet your standards, my lady," he says as he reaches for your face, but you move your face out of his reach, "I'd rather entertain rats than you."

The thief lord grits his teeth as he falls to the chair directly opposite you. "You're full of yourself. What makes you feel like I won't just chop you to pieces?", you let out a bitter laugh before gazing right at him. "Ever heard of a shadow singer? The spymaster of the night court?", you drag your words out like a melody. The male's face pales slightly. Of course, he had. Was there a soul on this earth that didn't know of his cruel ways? "Well, I know that if something happens to me here, he will drain your body dry, and enjoy every second of it." Now it's his turn to laugh, yet you can feel the fear lingering deep down.

"I know you've been tracking me down," "Oh, look, you are aware of some things," you tease back, but that earns you a slap on your face, even if it's not the hardest of punches. The rings with rubies and other stones make quite a mark on your face. "Listen to me, you little bitch; you answer my questions now, and I have many." Taking a fistful of your hair, he lifts your head, and you can feel the blood running down your cheek. "Let's start with what your high lord wants with me", "You're wasting your questions. Cause you already know the answer, and if you don't, you are an absolute fool", another slap, and this time it's your neck his fingers move to. 

"Where are the others who came with you?" His voice was firm, but you couldn't help yourself from grinning. "Dancing on your grave." The male lets out a frustrated growl before turning away from you. At this moment, you knew one thing and one thing only. You needed to drag this out as long as you possibly could. To give Azriel enough time to find you because he was going to find you. He always did. Even if the world was falling to pieces, he would find you. "Bring her to the shore," the lord barked out after making up his mind. A shiver ran down your back, "We're going to use some of the older methods."

The rain outside had lessened, yet the drops fell colder somehow. At the sound of the water running, it hits you. This explains the enormous fog. There's a huge river here. Two of the thieves have a firm grip on you as they push down on your knees. The sharp rocks and pebbles cut into your skin. "How do you feel about a little dive?", the lord asks you, smirking sheepishly. "All in if you join me," you bite back, but the male just points a finger, and your face is under the icy water in the blink of an eye. Considering that that came as a surprise, you barely got any air, causing you to trash in the holds of the two males as you tried to lift your head.

When they finally do, you are gasping for air, feeling as if you were on fire. The stinging in your head from the icy cold water causes your head to pump. "Now you get the rules. If you answer incorrectly, you will go down under. The more I don't like your answer, the longer you will be in the water," he says, yet now all you care about is that you are out in the open, which gives your friends an easier opportunity to find you. "So, what does Rhys know about the rubies?", the thief lord brushes some of the wet hair away from your face, but with one crooked smile, you spit right at his face, "Suck your own dick", you bark out and you know what's coming next.  Yet it's not even a slight bit less shocking. The feeling of someone firmly pressing your face in the running water. The tide of the water made it hard to keep any oxygen in your lungs since the water seemed to pour into your nose. Then you're dragged back out, gagging up the water in your system.

"I'm giving you one last chance to redeem yourself, pretty face," his fingers tangle in between your hair as he turns you his way. "What does he know?", "That you don't have them," the thief lord's face shifts. Confusion is all over it. "Sorry, I'll make it more understandable for your dumb brain. You left them alone in the camp without supervision and came here to have fun with me," rage fills his eyes as he orders his men to return to the camp, "You will pay for this, cunt." His pushing you under feels different, and you can tell that he is not messing around. Your face is practically hitting the bottom rocks as he keeps your head in the water. However, his other hand comes to your neck, and he presses so hard that you can't help but open your mouth as you let all the air out of your lungs, letting the water pour in. You start to thrash around as the fear of actually dying runs through your brain. Ultimate panic sets in, and all of your logic senses turn off.

Nesta had the rubies as she darted away from the camp, and Azriel takes to the skies alongside Cassian. The plan wasn't like this, but the moment they stormed the camp and found your handprint on the box, they knew exactly what it was and that you had left a clue for them, knowing full well that they were going to find you. The feeling in Azriel's chest was telling him that something was seriously wrong, and when his shadows came screaming at him about the water, he went into full madness mode. The sight of your head under the water and the thief lord holding you down practically made him want to roar. Cassian was the first to throw a dagger that pierced through the male's right arm. He let go of you partially, but your head stayed under. The moment he sees the two males, he drags your body up before holding you in front of himself and using you as a shield.

You let out a tiny gasp but then slumped in his arms. Azriel was seeing red, but pulling out weapons now was dangerous. "You make a move, and I'll drop her into the river", the thief lord threatened. "You've lost Albert; hand her over, and you might walk out of this alive," Cassian said in a warning tone. He was well aware that Azriel was in a primal male form now. Primal mate form. Knowing very well that the bond had snapped for Azriel a while back, his brother just kept it a secret, knowing that he was as stupid as you and had convinced himself that you felt nothing for him in return.

"What is my gain? I walk out of this alive, and Hybern will kill me for the rubies", the lord steps closer to the edge, "She's your girl isn't she?", the male nods his head towards Azriel. The spymaster's jaw nearly splits in half. "She promised me a slow death from you if she gets hurt", "I will make you regret that you were born", Azriel snarls through gritted teeth, but the lord only laughs, turning his face to you. He shakes your body a little, pushing two things down your throat, and you almost immediately choke out the water that's been in your lugs, saying, "Here you are; you were missing all the fun." Albert presses his face into your neck as you still gulp down the air. Eyes falling on Azriel, and he's practically falling to his knees at how small and pale you look. But at least you're breathing. That's all he needs to know now.

"I'm sad I didn't have more time with her; I'm sure she'd be capable of a lot," the male kisses your neck, and this time Azriel tosses the dagger right between his eyes, but it misses the lord. The male spins you out of his arms and into the freezing river as the tide takes you down the river lane.

The sensation of water dragging you down makes your skin burn. You tried to pull yourself out, but every little breath you managed to take in was met with yet another wave crashing down on you. But you crawl your way back up; you need to. For Azriel, you need to tell him. You can't die without letting him know. You manage to keep your hands above the water as another wave moves over your hand, and that's when you feel it. Warm fingers are wrapped around your wrist, and then you're out of the water and up in the air. Azriel had caught on to you while soaring over the river. "Hang tight," he whispers as his other hand clasped over your second wrist. You could almost cry at the feeling of him being there as he lowers you to the grass.

You got the rest of the water out of your system, and before you can even get a breath in, Azriel's arms are around your body as he presses you closer to him. You can hear his heart beating under your ear. It's racing so fast. So fast that this can't be healthy. You pull away from him slightly, "I knew you would come", the spymaster shakes his head. Eyes falling over the cuts on your cheek. "I thought I lost you. Multiple times," "You saved me, Az."

The spymaster notices your shaking frame and carefully lets go of you before ripping his jacket open and wrapping it over you, pulling you close to him once again. Your ice-cold skin melted into his warmth. "You get yourself sick," you mumble, causing Azriel to snort, "I will get sick? You've been under that water all this time, and you're worried about me being sick?"

With a couple of breaths, Azriel scoops you up into his arms before he moves to go back to Cassian. "I would have never forgiven myself if you were to die," the spymaster says, looking ahead of himself, "But you would find another best friend to replace me with." You rasp out, your throat feeling achy already. Azriel tightens his grip on your body. "I would send out a whole army to find you because, without you, I don't have a purpose in this life," he whispers under his breath, and your icy fingers cup his cheek slightly. "I had a feeling, just wanted to make sure. Why do you think I threatened that fuck with you?". Azriel lets out a breathy chuckle, resting his head over yours for a moment. He's hoping his body heat will be enough to keep you warm till you all get to safety. "Remind me to tell you that I'm really in love with you if I make it," you mumbled softly, your eyes starting to feel heavy. "Oh, you will make it. I will make sure that you do."

[hitomisuzuya]

Been working on this animation for a while and it's taking a lot outta me 😭

Taking a break now but was wondering if I could get a Nun!Reader x Venti/Barbatos where the reader grew up being a nun so she never been in a relationship or had any physical contact so of course she's very deprived and well horny-

So while sinfully touching herself(let's say the church has specific rooms for the nuns who live there) and calling out his name in sin Barbatos appears to grant her her wish, her prayer of feeling him fill her up-

I'm too down bad for this man😭

If you can could you incorporate these kinks?

God complex, Corruption kink and breeding kink? 🥺

-With love, Ventis Windblume🌸🍎💚

Venti x Nun!fem!reader. Smut. Yandere!Venti Corruption kink. Breeding kink. God complex.

a/n: When I saw this, I thought: Oh this perfect cause now I can write Yandere!Venti like I said I would. I hope you enjoy. First time writing smut with Venti😭 I hope I don't disappoint. Don't work too hard, okay!!

You were lost in your own little world, gripping the sheets in your room, rubbing your clit and fingering yourself desperately. You were a Nun. And it was generally frowned upon for a Nun to engage in sexual intercourse.

You were a bride of the Anemo Archon. Your body needed to stay pure for him.

It didn't make sense to you though, hearing that you had to stay pure in the name of Barbatos. Why shouldn't you offer your body to him?

So this was your way of doing it. You wanted to always keep in mind what Barbara had told you, though.

So you stuck to pleasuring yourself in one of the rooms at the back of the Church.

"Hehe~ You sound so pretty moaning my name like that. Please, keep doing it while I watch~" Venti giggled, seeming to materialize out of thin air. It didn't take long for you to connect that Venti and the Anemo Archon were the same person. You were a very astute young lady. He grinned at you, "Tell me when you are close to cumming. I'm going to enjoy this~."

Your heart leapt, soaring high into the clouds like Dvalin was carrying it on his wings.

Your cheeks were flushed with pride, bucking your hips up against your fingers, moaning his name with more urgency. You could finally serve your God like this!

Venti grinned the whole time, watching your every move. It was turning him on, seeing you acting so sinful in front of him. And you so desperately wanted to stay pure to your faith.

The very moment he'd heard you say to Barbara that you would always uphold your vow to stay pure for him, the only thing he could think of was getting his hands on you, corrupting you late into the night while you screamed and writhed beneath him.

He stalked you for months after that, always hanging around when you did your chores out in the courtyard, picking up the slack for Barbara so she could sing for her fans. You were so sweet for doing that.

Practically all ever he ever looked at or thought about was how perfect your childbearing hips were. You would look breathtaking pregnant. Your children would be the rarest of them all, being born with a Vision at birth.

Oh he was so excited!

Venti practically salivated as he watched you. You were showing such loyalty to him right now. It was really turning him on.

"My Lord, I'm close. Hurry please, I don't think I can last much longer," you pleaded, tears of desperation fell from your eyes. You looked more divine than ever right now.

"Don't worry, my love~," Venti said gleefully. You hadn't even noticed he was naked already. He had jacking himself off while he watched you. "I'll fill you full of my children. It's what you want the most~."

He didn't apologize for thrusting his cock inside of you without warning. You cried out in pleasure, making him shiver while he started thrusting. Your pussy seemed to suck his cock inside of you. "You have made such a filthy mess of yourself. You look so delicious that I can barely hold myself back~."

Your legs wrapped around his waist, pushing his cock to the hilt inside of you.

"The other Nuns might be disappointed when you become pregnant. They shouldn't be. Don't worry, my beautiful, loyal Nun. You'll always be pure in my eyes. You are serving your God so well. I'll make sure you are pregnant while I corrupt you slowly. It's all I ever think about.~"

[mimisempai]

Ineffable Growing Love series - Part 1

I want it to be an "us"

At their own pace

The words you deserve to hear

Learning together

When your happiness and mine collide

Spread your wings, Angel

Reaching

That’s what we are

The end of loneliness

That’s our reality

Addicted to your softness

Vulnerability

What you mean to me

The proof of their love is everywhere

My brave angel

You're what my dreams are made of

Finding a new purpose

The road to happiness

What our hearts desire

All this time you were cherished

The weight of guilt

To see the smile on your face

It feels like home

Never ending dance

Fragments of happiness

You're beautiful, it's true

Jane Austen or Richard Curtis, in the end it is all love

I don't want to be late anymore

Smitten

It has always been real

Being the reason for your happiness

It's my turn to rescue you

Yellow is the color

Keep Reaching

We always wanted the same thing

I know your kindness

Tell me all your fears

It's ours now

I know who I love

Story of a trust

Show me all of you

The smile that belongs only to me

To protect

A happiness that's real

You've always been someone

You were always on my mind

Your wings are precious to me

I can't bear the thought of losing you

Just a touch of love

Just surrender to the music

A group of the two of us

It has always been there

Unscathed

Just be yourself

Missing you comes in waves and tonight i'm drowning

Making new memories

You no longer need to hide who you really are

Dear Crowley…

Losing Control

A new step

You just have to be

Under a sky full of stars

Let your heart speak

A joy greater than all others

Take a chance and learn to fly

Without restraint

I love the angel you chose to be

Your light illuminates my shadows

The music of my name on your lips

My sweet demon

Precious moment

A token of gratitude

Our joy

Sheltered

Even in my dream, I’ll follow you

Say it with flowers

Because it comes from your heart

Sweet dreams 'til sunbeams find you

Who cares?

Quiet place

Not every cloud foretells a storm

The angel who never ceases to baffle me

Little notes of happiness

I'll always give you what you are craving for 

Sweet drunkenness

No wish upon a star

Masterpiece

Just a little hesitation

Together

You're my favorite serendipity

Simple but yet precious

My dear love

What your words mean to me

You just have to tell me

The guardian angels of Whickber Street

What you mean to me

I'll never tire of you

Ask and you shall receive

You're the only one I see

Next Part : here

[firefirefruit]

Steel in Her Veins, Chapter: Thirty-Five

Read On: AO3 | Table of Contents | Next Chapter

Characters: Fem!Reader x Roronoa Zoro

writer's notes: hi guys! i know, super late post. i've been super busy with things so it's been hard to juggle everything right now! but i'm still here - very much alive and still writing. i hope you enjoy this next chapter :p as always, would love to read your comments on this one!

Chapter Thirty-Five: A Surly Monster

A pair of long, large obsidian nails curve around the ship with an ear-shattering creak. Impatiently, the dragon snarls out, its dark wings tensely billowing outwards like a sparkling parachute, increasingly building its strong momentum to lift off.

Law stumbles out of the boys' quarters—if you can even call it that anymore, what with the Hearts pirates having to bunk beds with the Strawhats in an incredibly undersized room—his bare feet slapping against the wooden deck in alarm.

"What," he seethes, whilst the little nightcap on the top of his head trembles against the dragon's slapping wind, "the fuck have you gotten into now!?"

Zoro turns, eyebrow raised, and when his eyes land on the Surgeon of Death donning a dress robe that billows out dramatically in front of him—and not to mention that ridiculous little hat—he instantly shouts out in laughter.

Law's piercing eyes slink onto the swordsman. "You got something to say, asshole?"

Zoro keeps barking out like an animal out of control, which makes Raya snap her head around and gape at him as if she's never met this man before. Zoro shakes his head, a tear glistening in his eye. "Nice outfit, princess."

Law's face burns, his jaw tensing into a boulder of stone. "I'm going to kill you, you piece of—"

In a startling and teetering tilt to the ship, the dragon bellows out thunderously, its snout producing smoke that threatens to spill into fire. It retracts its claws—only one remaining hooked on the side of the Sunny—as its wet eyes tilt downwards to the two men who begin flailing off the ship. 

Silence them, or I shall do it myself, the dragon grumbles hotly. 

Raya shivers as she hears the voice in her skull again – deep, shattering and quite…. unsurprisingly, ill-tempered. She tilts her head back up at the heavy-shouldered force, and without even thinking of her own hot temper, she narrows her eyes back at him. 

Quit talking through me, Raya bites out, ignoring the distant cries of the two men hanging onto the ship by a rotten, stray rope. You have no right to invade my mind like this.

The dragon bristles, blasting air from its snout. I am not your enemy, Human.

"Room!" Law forcefully cries out, his inked fingers stretching out, his feet flapping against nothing but air. "Sha—"

But before Law utters that one life-saving word, his hand, with no doing of his own, slams right into his face.

Control their tempers, the dragon repeats, his large eyeballs gleaming at Law, or I'll do more than place his hand in his mouth. 

"Ugh, fuck!" Raya hisses, her knuckles turning white over the wooden railing. "Fine! Just hold the ship up properly!"

The dragon huffs out a cloud of smoke in response to Raya's demand, but it complies, adjusting its grip on the ship to stabilise it. Law and Zoro, now dangling precariously from the rope, exchange glares before scrambling back onto the deck.

Raya clenches her fists, still seething with frustration at the intrusion into her mind. "You better keep your end of the bargain," she warns the dragon, her voice laced with venom.

Deal with your companions, and I shall refrain from further interference.

With a heavy sigh, Raya turns her attention to Law and Zoro; standing sheepishly on the deck, they try to regain their composure through manly coughs and throat clearing. 

Raya raises a finger at them. "You two," she begins, her voice tight with irritation, "need to get your shit together. I'm in the middle of figuring out what these bloody beasts want with me, and you're both itching for a stupid fight."

Law bristles and takes an accusatory step forward. "But he's the one who started—"

"Boohoo, now go kiss and make up," Raya snaps. She sighs and takes a moment to compose herself, softly leaning her hips against the wooden rail. "Look, these dragons have some sort of business with me. The only reason you guys are here right now with me - and not stranded in Gods knows where - is because— Oh, for fuck's sake, Roronoa, put your swords away."

"We're heading to their den, aren't we?" Zoro mutters. "We gotta be prepared."

"If you don't slide those swords back into their pretty little sheathes, I will eviscerate them again," Raya calmly says, narrowing her eyes. "And this time, Roronoa, I won't fix them."

Silence. 

Law silently gives Zoro a curious side-eye, waiting with Raya for his next move.

The shink! of steel brushing against leather slides in slow, reluctant, movements, following with a tight snap, as the swords burrow themselves securely into their respective homes. 

Raya smirks, sarcastically pouting back at Zoro's grumpy frown. "Good talk."

She looks over to the portholes behind Zoro and Law, realising that Nami, Usopp and Bepo's bewildered faces are staring out from the safety of their sleeping quarters. Raya sighs, stretching her fingers out by her sides. "Alright, let's go and fill the others in."

☆

 

"THIS IS SOOOOOO COOOOL!" Luffy yells, his voice echoing off into the depths of the cavern. 

"Shut up, Luffy! Don't wake them up," Usopp quickly hisses as his legs shakingly clamber down the ship's ladder. 

"But they're already awake?" Bepo mentions, staring wide-eyed at a colossal dragon that flies past their eyes.

"Shut up," Usopp panickily repeats, slamming his eyes shut as he feels the heavy breath of the dragon hit his face. "You're lying. You're lying. I can't see anything."

"I mean, I guess I won't be needing a lighter anymore." Sanji grins, reaching his cigarette out to a random sprout of fire that dances across the surface of a rock. "It's not too bad, Usopp. You could be the Strawhat's dessert, if you wanted to," he taunts with an evil grin plastered on his face.

Usopp pales. “Des… Dessert?” 

"Hold on..." Brook looks around, his jaw dropping. "Where did Luffy go?"

"Don't worry," Robin smiles, waving her hand. "Franky's babysitting."

"This…This is incredible," Raya dazedly mutters to herself, entranced by the vast expanse of rock and fire.

The cavern is enormous – fit to house five hundred dragons, to be exact. It's so big that Raya can see a few dragons soar through as little specks of shimmering colour. 

As Raya steps into the stomach-dropping view, her senses are immediately overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of its grandeur. The cavern stretches before her like the yawning mouth of some ancient titan, its walls jagged and imposing, veined with veins of glimmering minerals that catch the flickering light from the fiery pits below.

Above, the ceiling disappears into darkness, lost to the depths of the earth, while below, the floor is a chaotic mosaic of molten rock and glowing embers, casting an eerie orange glow that dances across the cavern walls. The air is thick with the acrid scent of sulphur, punctuated by the occasional roar of a passing dragon and the crackling of flames.

Clusters of stalactites hang like icicles from the ceiling, their tips glistening with droplets of molten rock that drip into the fiery chasms below. Columns of stone rise up from the depths, their surfaces scarred and pitted from centuries of exposure to the elements.

But what truly captures Raya's attention are the dragons themselves. Massive beasts of every size and colour, their scales gleaming like jewels in the dim light, their wings spanning the length of several ships as they soar effortlessly through the cavern. Some lounge lazily on rocky outcrops, their eyes gleaming with a predatory intelligence, while others dart through the air with lightning speed, their forms blurred by the heat haze rising from the molten rock below.

Human, the familiar voice rumbles out, spinning Raya's head back into reality. Look at me, Human.

Suddenly, the colossal obsidian dragon reappears again, making Chopper and Brook screech out in surprise. It hovers in front of Raya with a slightly tilted head, almost as if he's offering some sort of respect. His wet eyes lock onto hers, his wings flapping in rhythmic movements, and silence fills Raya's ears as if a melody is playing that she is forbidden to listen to. 

Raya holds her breath, feeling the warmth of his snout blow her hair backwards. She doesn't respond to his telepathic intrusion; she only stares.

The black dragon breathes out again, an odd similarity to a tired, human sigh.

Get on my back, he says. We have much to discuss.