#and even in the alternate universe from what I understand there's still no way for everyone to have their happy ending

[tiny-wooden-robot-fics]

Onset - Chapter One

Rating: Explicit Media: Jujutsu Kaisen/JJK Pairing: Geto Suguru x Original Female Character Characters: Geto Suguru, Valerie (OC) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Not Canon Compliant, Pre-Established Friendship, Geto and OC are roommates, Self-Insert, Smut, Penis in Vagina Sex, Creampie, Brief mention of an inability to get pregnant, Unprotected Sex, Cunnilingus, if I tagged everything we'd be here all day, This is part of a series

Part 3 of Sundane

Previous Part: Egg Fried Rice

Summary:

“What the fuck, Suguru?” She knows her skin doesn’t flush red, but she raises her hands to cover her face anyway.

“What?” He sits up, pulling his fingers out of her and nonchalantly bringing them to his mouth to suck her slick off of them. “We’ve been roommates for three years. You gonna pretend you’ve never heard me jerking off?” He raises an eyebrow at her when she peeks at him from between her fingers.

She silently and somewhat begrudgingly admits that he’s right.

“So where are they?”

“Why do you want to know?”

Read on AO3

“Why my bedroom?” 

She means for it to sound like a complaint, but her tone is not quite right. She’s more aroused than annoyed - embarrassingly so, she might admit if forced to - her words pointed in the direction of the ceiling because tilting her head that way is the best way to keep Suguru doing what he’s doing.

At the moment, he has his face buried in her neck, treating his lips and teeth and tongue to the taste of her skin and working on leaving what is sure to be an impressive family of hickeys come morning. 

“Because,” he mumbles in between kisses, “your bed is more comfortable than mine.”

She knows he’s right; on more than one occasion she’s found him napping in her room. “I told you to get the pillow top mattress,” she laughs. “Now I bet you wish you had listened to me.”

He raises his head to look at her. “My mattress is the last thing on my mind right now.” 

It’s a fair point. And while she may have set out to complain about where they’re doing what they’re doing, any further grousing she’s planned to do gets sidelined by the reality of what they’re doing. Hating the fact that she’s being so pragmatic about things, she tugs lightly on a handful of his hair to get his attention. “Suguru.”

“Hm.” He’s slid down her body to take a vested interest in tonguing her nipples through the thin fabric of her sports bra and is only half-listening. 

“Suguru.” She says his name again, this time with slightly more urgency. 

“What.” It’s not quite a whine, but it’s close enough, and she almost feels bad for interrupting when he’s clearly having as much fun as she is. 

“Before we get too… distracted,” she huffs, trying to ignore the way he looks: hair disheveled, lips wet with spit, one hand on her hip and the other toying with the nipple he’s just taken his mouth off of as he looks up at her. “Do you have something? I… don’t. It’s been a while.”

Suguru makes a concerted effort to understand what she’s saying. When her meaning is clear, he shakes his head. “Don’t need it.” He lowers his mouth to her breast again, this time sliding her sports bra up and effectively removing the last barrier between her skin and his tongue. 

“Wait,” she protests, even though she does nothing to stop him. She helps him along, in fact, by raising her arms above her head so he can slide the bra completely off of her body. “That’s---”

“Come on,” he interrupts her, right before making a little trail of kisses from the place under the swell of her breast to her navel. “Just once, I wanna go without. We’re both clean and I already know you can’t get pregnant, remember?” He grins up at her from where he’s come to rest between her thighs, his chin on her belly.

“You’re not wrong, but you didn’t have to say it that way,” she sighs. Despite her words, she widens her legs to let him settle himself more comfortably between them.

“Sorry,” he says, still grinning and sounding anything but apologetic as he relieves her of her shorts and the panties beneath them. “I’ll make it up to you.” 

And he sets out to do just that. 

She thinks it’s a little unfair how good Suguru is at what he’s doing, but it isn’t really a surprise. It’s as if he’s known all along what her favorite things are - the way he teases her entrance with the tip of his tongue, or the way he somehow just seems to know that wetting his finger and sliding it between the left side of her clit and her outer labia makes her produce some of the prettiest moans he’s ever heard. Suguru eats her out slowly and sloppily, letting his mouth do most of the work while he buries two fingers inside her so he can relish the feel of her tightening and pulsing around them. 

She’s quiet, but he knows she likes it from the way she’s holding fistfuls of his hair, tugging his head this way and that to guide his mouth where she wants it. Suguru lets her, even though he knows those parts of his scalp are going to be sore when it’s all said and done. 

Nor does he tell her that he’s only ever let one other person put their hands in his hair like this. He doesn’t know what she would make of that kind of admission anyway.

When she comes, he stills his fingers completely but doesn’t withdraw them. His mouth, however, keeps busy. He slows and softens his pace just enough to keep her in that place between post-orgasmic pleasantness and overstimulation, mouthing at all the spots he now knows she likes. She’s still twitching and fluttering around his fingers when he speaks. “Hey… where are your toys?”

“Toys?” She parrots the word, confused and still coming down from her high. “What toys?”

“You know what toys.” He grins up at her. “The ones I heard you using a few nights ago.”

“What the fuck, Suguru?” She knows her skin doesn’t flush red, but she raises her hands to cover her face anyway. 

“What?” He sits up, pulling his fingers out of her and nonchalantly bringing them to his mouth to suck her slick off of them. “We’ve been roommates for three years. You gonna pretend you’ve never heard me jerking off?” He raises an eyebrow at her when she peeks at him from between her fingers. 

She silently and somewhat begrudgingly admits that he’s right.

“So where are they?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“Why the fuck do you think I want to know?” He laughs. “I’d like to see what you’re used to.”

She uncovers her face and looks dubiously at him. She says nothing, instead simply motioning towards the drawer in her nightstand and watching him rummage through her colorful collection of toys. 

“You can take this?” The ‘this’ in question is a dildo in his hand, the largest one she owns. 

She nods.

Amused, he raises his eyebrows. “You like it?” 

“Yes,” she snaps, embarrassment getting the better of her and making the word sound much more defensive than she intends it to. “Is that a problem?”

“Nope,” Suguru replies smugly. “Just means I don’t have to wonder whether or not mine can fit.”

She wants so badly to put him in his place, but one look at the way his cock springs free when he comes out of his bottoms shuts her mouth. 

“What’s the matter?” He nudges his body between her open legs, her bottle of lube in one hand and his cock in the other. “Are you scared of it?” His words are teasing, as is the smile that pulls at the corners of his mouth. 

“Of that? You wish,” she retorts with a roll of her eyes. “I was just wondering if you treat all the women you sleep with this shitty.” Even as her mouth forms the insult, she’s grateful for the way he liberally coats himself in lube. 

“You think this is shitty?” He laughs, holding his cock between his thumb and forefinger and repeatedly slapping it against her still-sensitive clit. She bites back - just barely - the little noise of pleasure that threatens to escape her as he does so. “I’m giving you the princess treatment, if you really wanna know the truth.”

Anything she’s intending to say gets lost, swallowed by the feel of Suguru’s lips on hers and the head of his cock pushing at her entrance. 

“Fuck,” he mumbles into her mouth, when he’s fully seated inside her. As good as he’s been imagining she would feel around him, the reality is that she feels even better. Suguru leans back to look down at her, making the mistake of meeting her eyes. 

“Oh,” she says quietly. He doesn’t know what she sees in his expression to make her react that way, but whatever it is can’t be bad - she’s looking up at him with soft, gentle eyes. 

He just might lose himself if he’s not careful. 

Time to laugh it off. “Better than your best toy, right?” He pushes that smug undertone into his voice again.

He’s expecting a sharp response, something snarky and perhaps mildly insulting. What he gets instead is more of those soft, gentle eyes. She cups his face in her hands and brings his mouth to hers, kissing him in a way that feels much too intimate and romantic for the way he’s about to fuck her. 

Suguru can’t figure out if it’s good or bad, and the uncertainty of it makes him want to crawl out of his skin. 

He pulls his hips back, slamming them into her again hard enough to make him worry for a split second that he’s actually hurt her. The way she clenches around him and the little sound she makes is enough to put that fear to rest, and he takes her wrapping her arms around him as permission to keep going. 

So he does.

He pounds into her hard, registering that he’s probably going too hard but not really able to stop himself. Tit for tat, he thinks, hissing as he feels her nails raking down his shoulders in a way that he’s sure will break the skin. Her hips rock up to meet his on every thrust, his balls slapping against her ass.

“Quit clawing at me like a damn bobcat,” he grunts between thrusts, his hair falling around her like silk and tickling her shoulders as he lowers his head to her neck. The retort that’s halfway out of her mouth dies on her lips when his teeth make contact with her skin. He wants to bite her hard enough for it to hurt, but his mouth and his brain are misaligned in their interests and he ends up sucking desperately at the place where her neck meets her shoulder.

“S-Sugu--ruuu,” she wails in a stuttering breath, and he feels a little bit vindicated because of it. She’s been so damn quiet, and that isn’t what he wants. He wants her loud. He wants her saying his name over and over like she’s praying to a god. He wants her drooling and stupid with her eyes rolled back in her head and her brain gone dumb as he gets her drunk on and addicted to the feeling of his cock.

He wants to completely unmake her.

The thought stabs him in the side with an unexplained pang of guilt, but he ignores it. “Still think it’s shitty, Valerie?” He pants, his breath warming the side of her face. “Still thinking about my cheap mattress and all that other unnecessary shit?”

She stares back up at him, and there it is: that glazed-over, fucked-out look he’s been waiting for. 

She wonders if he can see the thoughts in her head… if he knows just how good it feels, how her sweat-slicked body is surrounding him in all the ways she can be. Her arms encircling his broad shoulders, her legs wrapped tightly around his hips, her pussy stretched and stuffed full of his cock. Suguru is bigger than her toy - she’s sure of it now - and she wonders absently if she will ever be satisfied with anything other than him for the rest of her life.

She isn’t sure what he’s reaching for when his hand leaves her side, and understanding of what’s in his hand when it returns doesn’t dawn on her until she feels the vibrations of it. 

“Y-you,” is all she has time to get out before he works the little purple toy between their bodies to place it right up against her clit. He stills his hips, but it doesn’t blunt the vibrator’s effect on her. “That’s not fair,” she gasps, her voice pitched high and thin as her control slips. 

“I’m just being a gentleman,” he laughs stiltedly. One look at him is all it takes for her to understand that his own control is slipping - he’s sweating too, tendrils of damp hair stuck to his face and his muscles taut with the effort to keep himself in check. “Yeah,” he says, as though she’s asked him a question. “So go ahead and come for me first… hm?”

Val hates that her body chooses that moment to do exactly that, her climax syncing with his words as though what he’s said is a command for her to obey. Suguru tosses the vibrator over the side of the bed, and she doesn’t have time to wonder whether or not its clattering fall to the floor has broken it before his lips are on hers, tongue bullying its way into her mouth much the same way his cock is bullying its way in and out of her spasming walls.

He doesn’t pull out of her when he comes, just pushes into her as deep as he can and buries his teeth in the tender flesh of her left breast. The bite is more pleasurable than painful. Still, she lets out a little yelp that prompts him to drag his lips across the spot, soothing it with his tongue.

The two of them stay as they are for a few minutes after, chests rising and falling in tandem as they try to catch their breath. She threads her fingers through his hair, apologizing to him without words for all the places she’s yanked at it and massaging his scalp to alleviate the soreness.

He slips out of her and she tries not to wince, but her thighs are achy from being pushed open so wide and for so long. “Okay… I guess I need to add more flexibility training to my weekly rotation,” she manages with a laugh. Suguru doesn’t respond. His gaze is trained between her legs, and he’s got two fingers pressed against her pussy, gently prodding at her. “Suguru… what are you doing?”

“Putting the cream back in the pie,” he murmurs. He watches his cum leak out of her, catching it with those same two fingers and pushing it back inside of her. There’s no pang of guilt in his side anymore, but the feeling that has replaced it is something he’s only ever felt a variation of, and not in a long time. 

It feels… almost proprietary, seeing a part of him leaking out of her. It speaks to something long-forgotten inside of him, that urge to stuff it all back into her body and to keep that piece of him there with her. 

Valerie is about to tell him how bad his joke was when she catches sight of the expression on his face. She gets the sense that while what Suguru has said was meant to sound like a joke, the meaning behind what he’s doing isn’t lighthearted at all. So she keeps quiet, letting him continue what he’s doing and feeling the warmth radiate off of his body as she plays in his hair.

“So,” Suguru finally says, raising his head and resting his cheek against her abdomen so he can look at her over the swell of her breast. “How was your rebound fuck?”

It makes her laugh, even though she feels the need to set him straight about it. “It wasn’t a rebound fuck,” she says, when she’s stopped chuckling. “Rebound fucks usually happen pretty quickly after a breakup, you know.”

“Damn, that’s disappointing,” he teases her, even as he curls his arms around her waist and leans into the gentle touch of her fingertips on his sore scalp. “I wanted to be able to put that on my resume. If I’m not your rebound fuck, then what was I?”

Val is quiet for a minute, still soothing his scalp in all the places she’d pulled too hard at his hair. “Not to stroke your ego or anything, but you were pretty fucking amazing,” she admits. “I take back what I said about it being shitty,” she adds with a smile. “So now I’ll ask you again: do you treat all the women you take to bed this way?”

She asks the question, not really wanting to know the answer but feeling like it’s important to ask anyway. 

“Yeah,” he answers after a moment. “It doesn’t hurt to make them feel special, even if they’re not.” 

She doesn’t know how to feel about that, so she tucks the ambiguity of her emotions away and stays quiet. 

Chapter Two: Coming Soon

If you would like to be tagged in updates to this work or my other fics, please let me know. :)

[onpointedfeetandbrokendreams]

Day 2 - DBDA Week

Day 2 of Dead Boy Detectives Appreciation Week: 10th-16th June by @dbdcentral

Prompt: Alternate Universe

Relationships: Edwin Payne/Charles Rowland

Tags: Alternative Universe - Magic, Star-crossed lovers

TW: None

--

Charles would always remember the day Edwin had to leave for the Academy. They had always known it would come, he wasn’t sure if they had been pretending not to, or if they just never realised completely what it meant. Edwin had kissed him with lips wet and salty from his tears, and Charles had watched until the car disappeared completely beyond his sight.

He felt empty, purposeless. His mind kept going back to all those happy moments they had shared growing up, first playing together in the woods, then the first time they held hands, the first shy kisses. The memories seemed more real than his present life.

He couldn’t deny that he had thought about following him to the city, but Wizards were rare, and precious to the society, and they weren’t allowed to mix with ordinary people like himself.

He moved his fingers to his wrist, to trace the shape of the bracelet Edwin had given him before he left. The feeling grounded him. He said the rune on the pendant would change colour when Edwin thought of him, it was pulsing a warm green now.

-

Six years after the dreadful day when he said goodbye to Charles, the memories of him still haunted Edwin every moment of every day. He wondered what the other boy looked like, if he had grown taller than him, if he still had that blinding smile that made the sun look pale in comparison. It had been torture to be separated for so long. Even now that he was finally about to graduate, he still wasn’t free. His path had been written for him long before he was even born, like every other child of one of the wizarding families, he was supposed to take its place among the Wizard’s High Council who protected the country.

He knew he should just give up hope to ever see Charles again since they were destined for different places. Surely, Charles would have become a Fighter by now, and an amazing one at that. But he held onto hope that one day, they could find a way back to each other.

He concentrated all his powers on the bracelet he had given him that day, hoping that the incantation was strong enough to still be working. 

-

The city buzzed with excitement, the annual parade celebrating the country’s independence had brought everyone out in the streets. There were flags waving, music, food stalls and happiness all around him, but Charles didn’t spare a second look at any of those. He had only one goal. He pursed his lips, his gaze determined, focused on the tall building of the Academy, standing majestically at the other side of the square.

He knew he would find Edwin there, ever since he arrived, his bracelet had been pulsing a deep red, the strongest colour he had seen in it yet. It was the thing that made him certain that his feelings were still reciprocated, that Edwin expected him.

Hiding among the crowd, he made his way closer to the entrance. He just had to wait for the fireworks to start, so that the guards would be distracted.

The moment he saw the first burst of lights and colours from the corner of his eye, he slipped inside, trying to remain in the shadows. He ran through the corridors, in the direction of the rooftop, where he knew all the students gathered every year to watch the show.

When he peered inside, he found his favourite emerald eyes already fixed on the door. So many years, and their minds still worked in perfect harmony, understanding each other without the need for words.

He saw Edwin excuse himself and move towards the door, Charles felt like his heart was about to explode in his chest.

“I was hoping you would come,” Edwin whispered in his ear. It made a shiver run down his spine.

He thought about replying, there were at least a thousand things he wanted to say, to ask, but there were more pressing matters. He all but launched himself at him, hugging him close, his lips rushing to Edwin’s like a drowning man resurfacing and finding the first breath of air. The kiss didn’t taste like salt this time, it tasted like desperation, and need, and in one moment it managed to make six years look like a snap of fingers.

Edwin guided him by the hand along the corridor to a room, and locked the door behind him. Finally safe from prying eyes, they dared to look at each other more thoroughly. Edwin was even more beautiful than he remembered him, his shoulders had broadened, his eyes were shining with happiness and he wanted nothing more than to kiss his smile again.

“I was afraid you wouldn’t come,” Edwin said, breathless. “I kept looking at the door but I thought that maybe you had moved on, or you forgot about me.”

Charles shook his head in disbelief. “I thought about nothing else since the day you left.”

He entwined their fingers together, leaning his head on Edwin’s shoulder. They would have to separate again soon, or people would start looking for them, but at least they had this one day they could steal for themselves. And Charles would never give up hope.

[rowanraven08]

So I just need to fucking rant about my boys being stuck in the ‘puters. CAUSE MAN DO I HAVE THOUGHTS. Have probably said some of this before, but not all.

So I’m thoroughly convinced that they’ve been properly coded in, Sergey Ushanka style, and also based off that statement, there’s no doubt in my mind that it hurts for them. I know this is a different universe, but unless computer folks are a common thing here, why would the plot give them anything less than more trauma? But I’m actually kinda concerned about how they’ll be once/if they get out?? Like aside from the trauma of it even, Tessa Winters said you can’t code people in the way people really are, and I’m kinda worried that through the whole thing that they might be different, or have lost a little bit of themself, the way that if you put something through google translate to many times it comes out all messed up, mostly with the same meaning, but words have still changed.

Other than that even, how the hell is Jon gonna cope/currently coping with not being omniscient?? I imagine going from knowing almost everything to having to seek out the information yourself again would be a huge hurdle. Even if now he has the equivalent of what Elias could do, seeing out of any eye, but instead just seeing out of any camera, that would be so disorienting. Never mind the fact they’re in an alternate universe.

The whole thing just makes me so sad, they can’t communicate clearly, are clearly trying tooth and nail to help and to get the OIAR gang to understand, stuck in this nonexistence that is probably excruciating, and no one except probably Colin and Celia even knows they exist. (I’m operating under the assumption Celia knows what’s up, she’s a smart girl she knows this isn’t a coincidence) But Colin clearly fucking hates them, Sam is only just starting to realize the computers are listening, and Celia doesn’t actually seem to be trying to help them, the only thing we know about her research is that she was looking into alternate universes and time travel sort of stuff, and that now she’s looking into alchemy. My boys are SCREAMING to be heard and no one will listen.

Like what will they even do? Worst case scenario, they’re stuck like that forever. Best case scenario, they get out, and somehow manage to get home (unlikely in my opinion) only to be met with a world still rebuilding, where everyone hates them. Last scene in TMA? Literally Melanie, Georgie, and Basira talking about how it’s better off they can’t find Jon, and they’re right,

“I mean, I just don’t think people would exactly be understanding. You remember what happened when they found Simon Fairchild?”

“And he’s not just some powerless left-behind avatar, you know? We’re talking about ‘The Archivist’.”

People would absolutely kill Jon if he came back, and they knew who he was, and I think being able to fly under the radar isn’t an option seeing as he literally haunted people’s dreams for a while. Who’s to say he could even stay alive in a world without the fears? Death might finally catch up to him, the exhaustion, everything. I don’t think going back is an option for them.

Maybe for Celia, if it’s even possible. But I think at this point she’d be happier in Protocol universe than Archives. She couldn’t even remember her original name in late s5, and didn’t remember Martin, she seemed to have lost at least a good portion of her memory if not all. If that didn’t come back after the apocalypse, she has more actual connection to Protocol, the cult being her only real connection to Archives. Maybe she’s trying to get back just because of principle, she’s not considering if that’s really what she wants because it’s the clear next step. But I don’t think she’d be able to leave Jack behind. I don’t even think she really is his proper mother, I’m guessing she somehow took other Celia’s (Lynne’s) identity, and just took over caring for Jack. But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t love him.

I really do hope Jon and Martin get out of the computer, it’ll be so hard for them to deal with everything, but maybe if they stayed in Protocol they could still build a life together.

Some other random stuff:

So I went through, and found (I think) all the times we hear the jmj. error.

Ep 3 we get an error, which actually starts working when Colin threatens it, and it starts up with a statement from our buddy Norris, and I actually find it kinda amusing to imagine Martin being scared into reading the statement by the frustrated IT guy.

We also get an error in ep 5, after Gwen asks about the German IT guy before Colin. Which a.) why is she asking about him, b.) if I’m right about the errors being an attempt at communication, why do they think the guy’s important? C.) I had thought before that the German bit of code could be Jonah or something since he may have known German? But pretty sure that was too speculative, it makes more sense for it to have just been the German IT guy. D.) he’s mentioned as having a bunch of tattoos, which so far has not meant good things.

Ep 17 which I talked about in a different post, where the error lasted long enough for Gwen and Alice to nearly talk about stuff, only starting up again once they end that bit of the conversation without actually talking about it

And then ofc in 19 when Alice won’t listen to Sam about the computers listening.

I don’t think I missed any, but I might have? So if anyone notices one I missed lemme know please

Also only just realized a few days ago that jmj. isn’t an ACTUAL error, I know Colin says ep 3 it doesn’t mean anything, but I had actually taken that as Colin just being frustrated, and hadn’t read into. Jmj doesn’t even fucking exist, my guess is that it stands for Jon Martin Jonah?

Also what’s everyone’s thoughts on Teddy? Because that man is getting kinda suspicious. Why does he keep showing up? He works into this somehow. Also why doesn’t he actually want to talk to Alice? She’s high energy and not very serious, but it sounds like the guy properly ghosted her, keeps lying about how they’ll hang out more, or how he’ll text her back, could just be him being a bit of a dick, or maybe she did something to kinda deserve it, but it’s could be he’s trying to keep her at a distance to keep her safe? Especially if he is already wrapped up in this crap.

[jtmarx]

I'd go on record to state that Three Houses is one of the greatest tragedies written in the modern age. It's like no matter what route you play through, no matter what you do, somebody is missing the key piece of information that would immediately stop all the fighting, all the senseless violence and they die cursing the professor they once beloved, never knowing that it was them missing the important clue.

[tgcg]

candid detail. my biggest project so far

hey happy new year

CG: DAVE?

TG: yeah?

CG: SOMETHING’S KIND OF FUCKING ME UP RIGHT NOW AND I NEED TO TELL YOU SPECIFICALLY ABOUT IT IN CANDID DETAIL.

TG: oh shit

===

TG: yeah whats up

TG: not too often i get to be the sole audience to karkats grievances

CG: PFF, BULLSHIT. YOU'RE PRIVY TO WAY MORE ABOUT MY GRIEVANCES THAN BASICALLY ANY OF MY SURVIVING AND PRESENT FRIENDS, BY A SIGNIFICANT MARGIN, AND YOU KNOW IT.

TG: yeah and im boutta add another im like broses up on that hill bundled up in a long ass list of things that make the homies upset

TG: lay it on me

===

CG: OKAY. SO.

…

CG: I’M KIND OF THINKING ABOUT JUST. US AND OUR BRO-DOM.

===

TG: oh

CG: LET ME FINISH.

CG: ALL THIS TIME I’VE BEEN FUCKING FORCED TO SPEND IN THE DREAM BUBBLES MADE ME REALISE SOMETHING, AND THAT’S THAT…

===

CG: THIS IS KIND OF RARE, RIGHT?

TG: what

TG: us

CG: YEAH! LIKE… THERE’S SO MANY THANKFULLY DEAD KARKATS I’VE HAD THE INSURMOUNTABLE GODDAMN DISPLEASURE OF FAILING TO AVOID THAT DON’T LIKE YOU, BARELY MET YOU, OR EVEN JUST DON’T CARE ABOUT YOU.

===

CG: IT’S THE RARE AMBIVALENCE THAT REALLY GETS TO ME. I ABSOLUTELY UNDERSTAND A TIMELINE’S KARKAT FIRMLY DECIDING THAT THEY HATE YOUR ASS. NON-ROMANTICALLY I MEAN. THAT HAS BEEN ME, FOR FUCK’S SAKE. BUT THERE WAS NEVER, EVER!!! A POINT WHERE I JUST FELT NOTHING ABOUT YOU AT ALL.

CG: EVEN WHEN I INITIALLY HAD THE MISFORTUNE OF SEEING YOUR DOUCHEBAG SPECTACLES YOU GOT FROM YOUR BRO ON THE SCREEN, I AT LEAST HAD A STARTER DISH OF SKEWERED CONTEMPT TO WHET MY APPETITE. IT’S IMPOSSIBLE TO IMAGINE NOT FEELING ONE WAY OR ANOTHER ABOUT YOU.

===

CG: ONE TIME I MENTIONED YOU IN THE MIDDLE OF A THREE-WAY ARGUMENT AND ONE OF THE OTHER KARKATS SAID "WHO?"

CG: "WHO?"!!!!

TG: now thats fucked up

CG: IT IS! AND THAT'S WHAT MADE ME FIRST REALISE THAT NOT EVERY KARKAT IS GETTING TO HANG OUT WITH EVERY DAVE, AND VICE VERSA. AND THIS IS GOING TO SOUND LAME AS SHIT IN A WAY THAT I’LL NEVER EVER LIVE DOWN, BUT. I FEEL BAD FOR THEM ABOUT IT! YOU KNOW?

===

TG: well you always feel bad about around and towards other yous so thats

TG: wait

TG: is or is not the nature of this moment of self-pity fuelled by malice anger disgust or any similar terms slash phrases

CG: I MEAN, FOR ONCE? DON’T GET ME WRONG, THE MALICE ANGER DISGUST ET CETERA IS STILL THOROUGHLY PERMEATING THE WHOLE ORDEAL. THE DAY I LOSE CONTEMPT FOR MY ALTERNATE SELVES IS THE DAY I GET TAKEN OUT BACK AND PUT DOWN LIKE THE LAME HOOFBEAST I’VE ALWAYS DREAMT OF BEING. BUT…

CG: I ACTUALLY JUST FEEL SAD FOR THEM, STRAIGHT UP. INDEPENDENT FROM TERMS PREVIOUSLY MENTIONED.

===

TG: damn

CG: AND THAT FEELS INCREDIBLY WEIRD TOO. I CAN’T EVEN ARGUE WITH THEM ABOUT IT, IT JUST MAKES ME FEEL THIS SHITTY, SHOCKINGLY QUIET… GRIEF? ALMOST? FOR THEM. GENERAL NON-TROLLIAN FEELINGS. AND EXCEPTIONALLY NON-STANDARD IN A KARKAT-TO-KARKAT CONVERSATION, AS YOU MIGHT HAVE GUESSED.

CG: BUT I KNOW IF I TOLD ANY OTHER EMOTIONALLY CONSTIPATED REFLECTION OF MY OWN FECULENT INNER FILTH TO TALK TO YOU, OR EVEN JUST LOOK AT YOU ONE TIME, THEY’D ONLY SEE IT AS ANOTHER PERSONAL AFFRONT. LIKE I JUST TOLD THEM "HEY, SHIT ALL OVER YOUR FROND AND SNIFF IT, IT’LL BE AMAZING JUST TRUST ME, ABSOLUTELY ZERO REASON NOT TO."

===

TG: you come up with the most potent mental images man youre the wordmeister of viscerally gross as hell vocab

CG: THANK YOU.

===

CG: AND LIKE… SHIT, I DEFINITELY WOULD’VE FELT THAT WAY BEFORE I GOT TO KNOW YOU! I UNDERSTAND THE INNER MACHINATIONS OF THOSE IMBECILIC NOOKSTAINS BETTER THAN ANYONE EVER COULD, DESPITE MY BEST EFFORTS.

CG: KARKATS UNIVERSALLY DECIDING THAT THEY JUST CANNOT LIKE YOU ON PRINCIPLE IS A CRISIS OF SHIT HAPPENSTANCES. THE HAPPENINGS ARE ALL OUT OF WACK, COSMICALLY.

CG: LIKE EVERY ME WRITHED OUR WAY OUT OF THE BROODING CAVERNS AND THE FIRST CONSTELLATION WE SAW PEELING THROUGH THE EXOSPHERE, TWINKLING IN THE REFLECTION OF OUR HUGE RED GANDERBULBS, WAS A PAIR OF SHADES GETTING COVERED IN GASOLINE, FOLLOWED BY A CONSTELLATION OF A LIT MATCH.

CG: A SIMPLE EQUATION WITH A VERY SIMPLE SOLUTION.

CG: A SYSTEMIC EPIDEMIC, IF YOU’LL PARDON MY BULLSHIT.

===

TG: it is a goddamn catastrophe sweeping the karkat population

TG: presidents on the headlines trying to get karkats everywhere to stop quarantining their asses and have a real heart to heart among themselves about the issue but they keep isolating anyways

CG: I STILL DON’T KNOW WHAT THE HELL A PRESIDENT IS. YOU’VE FAILED TO DESCRIBE IT AS ANYTHING MORE THAN A POORLY-SELECTED "DUDE CONDESCE" WHO DOES NOTHING PRODUCTIVE AND THEN EITHER DIES OR RUINS EVERYTHING, OR SOME CHAOTIC COMBINATION OF THE TWO.

TG: well that is exactly what it is but wait good point

===

TG: tragedy strikes as the karkat population reveals it doesnt generally know what a president even is so it means jack shit to them that this dude is trying to get their attention

TG: and mr president he is getting voted the fuck out of office over this blunder just an embarrassing display

TG: the public trust has plummeted off the fucking chart and cratered the damn ground like a meteor

TG: or he could be the tenth to die in office yknow there was a pretty big stretch of no in-office deaths til 2009 so maybe some catchup would be good for everyone

CG: ARE YOU TELLING ME YOU WANT TO MAKE ANOTHER PRESIDENT, AND THEN KILL HIM?

TG: not me personally i just wanna be there and see it also is that dream bubble fucking huge or what

TG: must be the size of

===

TG: jupiter

===

TG: look all im saying is the end of the world coincided pretty notably with a dry spell in the presidential kill:death ratio

TG: i was tragically too busy not dying to see obama die live on television when an errant meteor hit the white house that was my one chance

CG: PFFFT.

TG: i want to keep a comically aloof finger on the pulse of the shit but i do not want to be among the shit

TG: but anyways guess its my turn on the pedestal

CG: BE MY FUCKING GUEST.

===

TG: yknow uh im not gonna lie if present me went back to me age thirteen sippin my dubious aj in my pre-apocalyptic layer of hell that was texas and told me

TG: hey that gray text dude is probably gonna be your best friend if you give him a shot yall could be sweet bros in real life itll be awesome

TG: i mean disregarding the fact i already doomed that guy because i dont remember that happening to me

TG: id probably be casting some wicked aspersions on that shit

===

TG: our whole friendship feels like a plot twist to my damn life story

CG: I HEAR YOU.

TG: its like our narratives bumped into each other hard on the street and decided yknow what yeah this pavement is pretty cosy lets talk about your dad

TG: but

===

TG: dont get your think pans too wrapped up in that different timeline stuff

CG: IT’S THINK PAN. SINGULAR. NOBODY HAS MORE THAN ONE THINK PAN, EVER. IT IS A SINGULAR ORGAN. IF YOU WOULD LET ME READ A TROLL BIOLOGY BOOK TO YOU ONE TIME WE’D STOP BUMPING INTO THIS ISSUE.

TG: gotcha and no

CG: OBVIOUSLY.

TG: but anyways dude look

===

TG: i am literally a time dude and i can tell you right now with all the sage wisdome of my knightitudes

TG: not a good way of looking at it

TG: ive met daves that didnt like you either it doesnt affect jack or shit because those daves arent me

TG: like they are in a way but

TG: me and all those other guys spent the whole game honing down these doomed timelines to a fine point and that point has obviously involved a whole lot of hanging out with you

CG: …

===

TG: so

TG: maybe they just missed the point while you and me were on the breaking edge of that shit

TG: we got to the bottom line of it so it doesnt matter yknow

CG: HUH.

===

TG: and i mean plus

===

TG: ive seen a handful of alternate daves and karkats who get along uh great apparently so

TG: yknow

===

CG: WHAT?

TG: you know what i fucking mean im not saying it

CG: ROLLING YOUR SHOULDERS AND SAYING "yknow" GENERALLY DOESN’T CONVEY FUCKING ANYTHING MEANINGFUL IN A CONVERSATION, DAVE.

CG: I’M NOT A PSYCHIC. YOU’RE GOING TO HAVE TO TELL ME WHAT YOU MEAN. IN CANDID DETAIL.

TG: its besides the point anyways

===

TG: the point is its you right here that matters overall and you right here is chilling with me so thats gotta mean at least one or two things

CG: OKAY, OKAY, YEAH… I GET WHAT YOU’RE SAYING. I REALLY DIDN’T THINK ABOUT IT LIKE THAT.

CG: YOU HAVE TO UNDERSTAND BY NOW HOW IT’D BE REALLY FUCKING DIFFICULT FOR ME TO WRAP MY THINK PAN AROUND THE CONCEPT OF ME BEING THE RIGHT VERSION OF ANYTHING.

CG: BUT I FEEL LIKE THE AMOUNT OF TIME WE'VE SPENT TOGETHER CUMULATIVELY IN THIS TIMELINE MAKES UP FOR THE AMOUNT OF DAVES AND KARKATS WHO NEVER SPENT ANY AT ALL, BY AT LEAST TENFOLD.

===

TG: heh yeah

HAHAH.

===

CG: GOD. WHO WOULD’VE GUESSED THAT KARKAT VANTAS WOULD GET TOO FAR INTO HIS OWN THINK PAN ABOUT THIS BULLSHIT, RIGHT?

TG: stop repeating the words think and pan i get it already

CG: ARE YOU SURE? TOTALLY SURE? ABSOLUTELY ASSFUCK CERTAIN OF YOURSELF?

TG: yes dude

CG: ALRIGHT. KEEP IN MIND THIS WILL BE ON THE TEST LATER.

TG: im acing that shit i swear to god youre gonna eat your damn foot

CG: STRUT POD

TG: when i pass that shit to oblivion

TG: youre gonna regret doubting me

CG: OKAY, DAVE. THEN EXPLAIN TO ME WITH ALL YOUR SAGE WISDOME: WHAT IS A "LUMPSQUIRT"? AND REALLY, TAKE YOUR TIME THINKING ABOUT THIS. GOD KNOWS WE'VE GOT MOMENTS A-FUCKING-PLENTY TO SPARE.

TG: as the literal god of time in your local area i sure as hell do

CG: GO ON THEN.

===

TG: …

TG: pass

CG: EXACTLY.

CG: ANYWAYS, I’M STILL GOING TO GO AROUND FEELING ANOTHER LAYER OF PITY FOR THOSE GRAY BULGEMUNCHERS THAT DON’T GET TO BE FRIENDS WITH YOU. NOT THAT ANYTHING ANY KARKAT COULD FUCKING DO WOULD EVER MAKE THEM DESERVING OF IT, BUT THAT’S ANOTHER CAN OF DIRT NOODLES ENTIRELY.

TG: yeah i feel bad for anyone who isnt buddy-buddy with the david stri too

CG: OF COURSE YOU DO. I’M GLAD WE’RE ON THE SAME PAGE HERE.

===

TG: but also

TG: any dave who missed out on a slice of the realest homes in paradox space is a tragedy in my eyes

CG: Y--

TG: let me finish

TG: i just dont let it get to me so much cus… first of all ive been having to not let time shit get to me this whole damn game but also

TG: i know i have you here and thats whats important

TG: ok not "have" just

TG: how the fuck do i phrase that

TG: i know whatever is happening with other "us"es whatever shits goin down

TG: i can wake up and watch movies with you or hell i can even hang with you in there if i bump into you and thats what matters to me in this bro-dom thats what i wanna do

TG: and thats some real shit i just said feel free to co-sign it

CG: …

===

TG: karkat i meant it

CG: … THANKS.

TG: no problem

[headspace-hotel]

I hate a lot of trends in climate-change-aware nature writing, but this is one I particularly detest: works insisting that we live in a "post-natural" world.

The lostness, bewilderment, aching, and searching in this piece is understood by the author to be an all-consuming and universal dysphoria, when it is actually a highly specific predicament that the author put himself into: He tried to understand the universe exclusively through the point of view of white people.

I mean that Purdy takes the colonizer point of view without realizing that it is a colonizer point of view. He thinks the colonizer point of view is a universal document of the authentic, naive encounter of "humanity" with "nature," instead of burning wreckage left over from the apocalyptic destruction of a rainbow of ideas and cultures.

It feels weird to be talking about this as a white person, but it shouldn't, any more than it should feel weird to say (as a white person) that aliens didn't build the pyramids.

Very little of what he's writing about would exist or make sense without European colonization of the world. Purdy constantly says "we" and "our" in reference to things that are very restricted to a particular cultural point of view, as if totally oblivious to the idea that other cultures and other perspectives even exist. When he searches for historical references to chart "human" relationship with nature, history goes like this: Pre-Christian religion in the British Isles->British monarchy-> George Washington-> Industrial Revolution->Thoreau.

He manages to repeatedly stumble over giant hunks of colonialism embedded in every concept he's thinking about, like boulders obstructing a pathway, and pretends so hard that they don't exist that his points are janky and meandering. For example, his discussion of Helen Macdonald's book H for Hawk, touching upon human identification with the landscape and with non-human "nature," blunders into this:

Those who love (certain parts of) nature are often making a point of preferring it to (certain kinds of) human beings. The problem is not only literary. Macdonald describes an encounter with a retired couple who join her in admiring a valley full of deer, then remark how good it is to see “a real bit of Old England still left, despite all these immigrants coming in.” She does not reply, but is miserable afterward. The meaning of landscapes is always someone’s meaning in particular. Confronted with all of this, Macdonald tries to shake off the complicities of her own identification with the terrain: “I wish that we would not fight for landscapes that remind us of who we think we are. I wish we would fight, instead, for landscapes buzzing and glowing with life in all its variousness.” The alternative that Macdonald wishes for is, of course, not an escape from political-cultural projection onto landscape, but another approach to that same practice — really, the only one a 21st-century cosmopolitan is likely to feel comfortable embracing. 

AND THEN HE JUST SEGUES INTO THE NEXT POINT LIKE NOTHING HAPPENED. Like don't worry about it :) We will simply project onto landscapes in a non-racist way :) because we aren't racist anymore in the 21st century :)

The next book he discusses is Landmarks by Robert MacFarlane, which is basically about how the vocabulary of landscape in English is sterilized and monoculturized, and contrasts that with Scots Gaelic. This is how Purdy explains the thesis of the book:

 Our sense of what lies outside ourselves has been blunted by “capital, apathy, and urbanization” — enemies likely to draw a range of friends, from cultural Marxists to Little Englanders to those who would like to see a bit more effort, please. But behind this scholarly sketch, Macfarlane’s work is testament to a pretheoretical obsession with unfamiliar ways of encountering places. We disenchanted and distracted (post)moderns describe terrain, he complains, in terms of “large, generic units” such as “field,” “hill,” “valley,” and “wood." (...) Many people who have lived intimately with landscapes have had words for nuances of form, texture, and use. Macfarlane’s purpose in Landmarksis to gather these words as proof of how precisely it is possible to name a place, and so, perforce, to know it.

Why is Gaelic endangered? Because of an effort to extinguish its speakers' culture. This article I found on it talks about the history of the language's decline, and it's strikingly similar to what happened to indigenous people in the Americas and Australia, with children being put in schools where they were beaten with sticks for speaking their native language.

This whole essay is about Purdy's general disappointment with nature writing, his craving for an ineffable Something, some sort of magical, primitive identification with the natural world. In the very first paragraph he claims that the pictures of animals on nursery walls are "totemic" and quotes a guy saying that zoos are an "epitaph" to the relationship between people and animals. It's never very clear what he means, but he uses the term "animism" repeatedly, such as when he says this about MacFarlane's goal in writing Landmarks:

His quarry is an animistic sense that Barry Lopez once identified in “the moment when the thing — the hill, the tarn . . . ceases to be a thing, and becomes something that knows we are there."

Given that ambition, Landmarks, which Macfarlane calls a “counter-desecration phrasebook,” can be disappointingly thin as a lexicon. Too many of the terms are simply dialect or Gaelic for some generic form, such as “slope,” “hilltop,” “stream,” or “tuft of grass.” The effect is less pointing out how many things there are to see than cataloguing how many names there are for the same thing.

This is Purdy missing the point, perfectly crystallized as though frozen in amber. He is oblivious to the clear subtext of a language showing a culture's connection to its home, and of the violence against that culture. The Gaelic language doesn't make him feel primal and mystical the way he wants it to, therefore it doesn't mean anything to him. MacFarlane doesn't make him feel a magic animistic connection to nature, therefore his book must have failed at its task.

Who gives a shit? Gaelic isn't FOR you.

He discusses another book about a guy that hikes a bunch of Cherokee trails, but I don't know what to say about that one, observing it through the sludge of the reviewer's unwillingness to recognize that historical context exists. He summarizes his disappointment in a confusing way, using the Gaelic language as a symbol for an obscure and inaccessible place where the answer to your personal emotional cravings lives (???) Then he talks about a kind of epistemicide, or extinction of knowing, of nature, but again, totally oblivious to any relationship to colonization.

Every inhabited continent has been denuded of ecosystems and species. Most North American places have shed wolves, elk, moose, brown bears, panthers, bison, and a variety of fish and wild plants, which were all abundant four hundred years ago. 

Wow, I wonder what happened four hundred years ago?

This writing acts like the dominant Eurocentric attitude towards the world is universal, but the author is haunted by this nameless specter of the possibility of a different way of thinking, which he treats as some kind of mystical, primordial state hidden in the past instead of just a different cultural perspective.

Not only does he not recognize that his own cultural perspective of Nature is dysfunctional and unsatisfying because it was created by exploitation and genocide of other cultures and their symbiotic relationships, he acts like other perspectives don't exist. Take his perspective on forests and the mycorrhizal network:

Wohlleben’s emphasis on interdependence and mutual aid is part of a recent tendency to recast nature in an egalitarian fashion — as cooperative, nonindividualist, and, often enough, hybrid and queer, in contrast to the oaks of generals and kings. Nature does answer faithfully to the imaginative imperatives and limitations of its observers, so it was inevitable that after centuries of viewing forests as kingdoms, then as factories (and, along the way, as cathedrals for Romantic sentiment), the 21st century would discover a networked information system under the leaves and humus, what Wohlleben calls, with an impressive lack of embarrassment, a “wood wide web.”

Listen, I don't think this is accurate to how Europeans thought of forests throughout time, let alone "humanity" in general. The emphasis of power and competition in ecosystems emerged after Darwin, in collusion with capitalism and "race science." Trees have been symbols of life, wisdom and selflessness, and regarded as sacred or even sentient, for centuries before that. But on top of that, this is just blatantly pretending that only white people's ideas count as ideas.

It's the same dreck as all the other "literary" writing about climate change: self-pityingly and unproductively mourning "Nature" and a fantasized "wild" state of the Earth, ignoring colonialism, treating human influence of any kind on other life forms as something that either destroys them or makes them soft and "tame."

I'm tired of reading nature writing from people that obviously do not go outside, or if they do, they do it in such a suffocatingly regimented, goal-oriented way that they can't just sit outside and relax.

Maybe I shouldn't be such a hater if I want to do nature writing. But my love of nature is WHY I am a hater.

[s3thwrit3sstuff]

you know what's delicious? yn who started wearing flavored lip balm/lip tint because of suguru — so that every time suguru ate a curse, he could just easily pull the man into a kiss to get rid of the disgusting taste suguru hates so much ((bonus points if yn also pops in a candy/sweet/chocolate in his mouth before feeding it to suguru through a kiss — anything to help suguru forget the taste of curses)) yeah... just... suguruyn for the win man 😋🫶

((even more bonus points when satoru finds out later and he gets all jelly because 1. he doesn't know the lip balm/lip tint can come with a flavor so he felt blindsided and of course, he humphs and puffs because of it and 2. he wanted a chocolatey sweetness kissies too!!!! and of course lastly, 3. he felt left out because he never knows that suguruyn always makes out every single time suguru ate a curse so he's all pouty about it — ask him to join in next time!!!))

❝ He's just like candy, he's so sweet ❞

polycule (Satoru x r! x Suguru)) | alternate universes (Suguru is not a cult-reader), fluff, NSFW | vers. bottom. reader (AMAB) | NOT PROOFREAD | wc: 3.6k

warnings: foodplay, threesomes, pouty satoru & smug suguru, semi-public sex, d/s dynamics

masterlist; part 1; part 2; part 3; alternate ending; playlist; au's and what if's

author's note: in this au, they slayed the links that made me lose my mind (thank you @xuxitheii for making me squeal and kick my feet): geto suguru : gojo satoru : gojo satoru being a big baby

Curses. Ugly as sin and tastes just as foul. Suguru remembers the first time he discovered he could devour them; how awful it felt as it went down his throat, bulging out and staying there — blocking his airway as he struggled to find it in himself to swallow.

The way his teeth ached. His throat convulsed and his instincts forced it back up but his fingers blocked it from doing so. It warbled in the back of his mouth, begging to be let out and 7-year-old Suguru just knew he couldn’t bear for it to disturb him again. He couldn’t handle it speaking nonsensically into his ear, slinking under his bed or even staring right at him as it grinned so wide Suguru swore he could see his reflection in its yellow, wicked-sharp, teeth.

The pills his parents (his poor, non-sorcerer, parents) had given him to help with his “hallucinations” made him feel as though a thick fog was obscuring his brain. His thoughts faded and his movement groggy, his emotions caged while his body still felt the anxious tremors that ran through him when he saw them.

The curses made him feel like he was constantly in a deep pit of despair. Everything wrong in the world, the depravity and impulses of humanity that manifested into these grotesque creatures in the palm of his hands made his nose sting, till this day, as an 18-year-old; it made his eyes well with tears.

Suguru can't describe it in a way people could understand. But if asked, he’d used the viscera of a vomit rag being forced down your throat.

But the strong protect the weak. While your lips protect them from his ire. This one goes down with a loud gulp, his fingers blocking his lips as he tosses his head back. The worst is almost over, the aftertaste will linger but not for long. Because then, he feels your weight on his chest and Suguru is pliant as you gently pry his fingers away.

“You did a good job, baby.” Suguru flutters his eyes open and he can’t help the way his lips twitch eagerly. Your lips are glossier than usual, he can smell the cherry flavour on them. His hands wrap themselves around your waist. It’s a firm grip.

Mine, he says without speaking, mine — all mine.

He pulls and a huff of air escapes you in a series of chuckles. “I know we haven’t been out in a while, but did you miss me that much, Su-Su?” Suguru frowns at your jest. It’s rare for him to pout. That role is often delegated to your boyfriend, Satoru. So this must truly upset him.

Because, yes, he did.

You’d been called overseas to complete a mission. It was the norm for sorcerers considering the population of sorcerers in Japan; outsourcing they called it. Your curse technique was needed for this mission and truly, it didn’t take long but Suguru had done solo missions and he missed you.

Three solo missions. Three disgusting, dog-shit, vomit-stained rags, down his throat. Three days without you by his side.

He hated it.

“Don’t ask a silly question like that ever again,” he mumbles. Silly. The way he scolds you always makes you smile. Never crass or rude — his voice reminds you of the symphony of leaves singing with the wind as they danced and speckled light onto the forest floors and cool water bubbling over rocks.

“Why? Why can’t I ask silly questions?” You tease, placing your elbows on his shoulder and hanging your hands behind him. Purposefully lax despite the coquettish smile on your face.

“You already know the answer.” He speaks with such sincerity. Every word is heavy with nothing but candour and adoration. It makes your eyes soften and Suguru squeezes you closer.

“I do?” He nods at your words, the tip of his nose brushing over yours and his tan skin so flushed on the apples of his cheeks.

“Kiss me like you miss me, baby.”

Suguru’s lips land on yours like a feather. Supple as always he begins it with a long-lasting peck. Pouty lip against pouty lip. His hands climb up your back and he presses between your shoulder blades to somehow hold you closer; his jaw opens and yours does the same. There it is — that heaven that’s your mouth. Suguru groans and you feel his tongue sneaking in, devouring you like a starved man.

The cherry flavour on your lips, the sweetness of the candy you let melt on your tongue, the way your fingers grip his hair, the way he can feel your breath on his cheek as you try to breathe. He wishes that the two of you never needed air. Suguru wants nothing more than to kiss you forever and ever and ever —

“Hey!”

You part with a gasp, cheeks warm and lips almost bruised as the line of spit between the two of you breaks. At the mouth of the alleyway was your boyfriend; Gojo Satoru.

His arms are crossed and he taps his foot in a cartoonish fashion. Despite that, both of you know that the frown on his face is very much real. “What gives? I exorcised the other curses and I came back to the two of you making out. So unfair!”

Suguru parts with a sigh, rolling his eyes to the side and pouting his lips to the side as he muttered about Satoru having FOMO. It makes you giggle and he smiles when you lean forward to place your face right under his jaw.

“S’toru, you’re being a baby. Suguru did a lot of work and I was just thanking him.” Satoru unfolds his arms and flaps them around in protest.

“I did work too!”

And it has begun — Satoru’s famous little tantrums. Oh, he could go for a full hour if he was really worked up but there is a saving grace in him having them. He closes his eyes when he’s yappering. Suguru is listening to his huffy boyfriend but then you kiss his chin and he tilts his face down to look at you.

“Hm?” your teeth brush over his lower lips, then plant firmly on his. “Baby?” he smiles in the lip-locking and you whine about it because his lips should not stretch into that handsome smile, they should be pursed outward and part to let you in.

He tastes chocolate on your tongue. The creaminess of the chocolate makes him groan along with the citrusy notes. That combined with the fruitiness of the cherry tint on your lips makes the taste of the curses he’d ingested (exorcised) all but disappear. Your hands climb to the lobe of his ears and his breath hitches when your fingers trail the curve of it, he protests a bit as you undo his bun; then you whisper his name and Suguru tightens his grip on your waist.

“Hey!”

Satoru is whining again but this time he’s closer. Close enough for Suguru to grab a fistful of Satoru’s white button-up and pull him in. As his face turns you giggle, wiping away some smeared gloss as you watch Satoru turn red from Suguru’s heated kiss.

Satoru groans with his eyebrows twitching. Listless in his attempt to remain angry at Suguru. He pounds his fist against Suguru’s shoulder and attempts to crane his neck away. When he turns, he gasps as you steal his breath.

Satoru’s graceful legs tumble over themselves as his boyfriends press him to the rough wall of the alleyway. There’s a constant hum of an A/C machine and the noises from the pipes keep the intimate noises between the three of you contained. Suguru’s blunt nails drag onto the faded plastered-on advertisements — yours grip onto the bars of the window that had been covered up by old newspapers.

Satoru’s grip onto the front of both of your shirts. His glasses go askew as he struggles to keep up with his boyfriends. Suguru misses Satoru so much. He’d been away too, the Higher Ups sending him overseas at the same time as you and Shoko had to deal with a depressed Suguru for those 3 days.

“Mah, Satoru,” you drag your lips to Satoru’s sensitive neck. His hands don’t seem to know what to do with themselves. It grips and pushes and stutters. “I always give Suguru special kisses after a job well done, you’ve just always been too busy to notice.”

“S’not fair,” Satoru retorts with no real venom in his words. “I deserve special kisses too, don’t I?” Suguru chuckles, forcing Satoru to look his way and shut him up. Satoru glares over the rim of his crooked glasses as Suguru’s thumb presses down on his canines.

“What a jealous brat.”

“Can’t even handle a little teasing.”

Satoru would heavily disagree with that. A little teasing? You called being pushed to a wall, groped, kissed, and bitten by your handsome and powerful boyfriends a little teasing?

Satoru was a sign of change, his birth instantly tipped the scales of the sorcerer world, but he was still human!

Suguru grins that irritatingly pleased grin when Satoru’s protests die out thanks to your hands slipping down his pants. “Oh shit,” he hisses. His speech is odd with Suguru’s thumb in his mouth, casually inspecting it. But you laugh anyway.

“You know, since he has been away too, maybe he does deserve a bit of sugar from you, (Y/N).” You glance at Suguru, your cock chubbing up in your pants as he pointedly motions his gaze to the ground. You kneel in front of Satoru and drool slips down his chin as his pupils chase after you. Suguru chuckles, wiping it away and wiping it off on Satoru’s shirt — to which he hears no complaint. Suguru stands behind you, bending at his waist to peer down. It’s unfair how pretty he is from any angle. The Gods took their time making him. Of that, you are certain.

“Ready, sweetheart?” you nod, opening your saccharine-sweet mouth; Suguru pats your cheek as praise and undoes Satoru’s pants for you. His cock springs out, nearly bumping into your nose as it strains and twitches in the open air. When Suguru holds it, Satoru grunts and raises his hips. Fucking into his fist like a dog in heat. Suguru regards this with a shake of his head and guides Satoru to your mouth. You form a fist around your thumb, looking up at Satoru through your lashes as you wrap your lips around him.

Suguru straightens his composure. He takes in the sight.

Satoru and you know better than to be handsy. The pale-haired man grabs onto the bars of the window behind him, breathing through his nose as the toe of his shoes dig into the floors. You slip your eyelids close and languish in the taste of Satoru’s cock — breathing through your nose as well as you bob your head.

Fuck, Suguru missed this. He really did. He could get off on this alone. Just watched as both of you enjoyed the other. His darling boyfriends, who so obediently listen to his whims even if he didn’t say it out loud.

Who could ask for more?

Suguru strokes over your eyebrow and barely stifles a laugh when you tilt your head so Satoru’s tip pokes your cheeks.

“Good boy. My sweet boy.”

His voice alone makes you want to give in to whatever it is he asks of you — it’s insane how much power and sway he has. Your charming Suguru.

Satoru moans, swiftly reaching out and gripping onto the collar of Suguru’s top. They kiss. Fighting for dominance because Satoru needs to be pushed into submission. He relishes being put in his place — smacked around a little.

You could pinpoint this kink originating from his frivolous childhood and naturally talented self needing some sort of edge to sink down into a more fuzzy headspace.

Or perhaps Satoru was just a brat and he trusted his lovers enough to relinquish that control. Both theories worked.

Suguru grunts as Satoru tugs at his hair, the pleasant tinge of pain making his dick strain against his loose pants. You spot it from the corner of your eyes, an obscene slurping sound coming from you as you attempt to not make this blowjob too messy. An impossible task, really. But a worthy effort.

“Your lips taste like cherry, why?” Satoru’s question catches Suguru off-guard. He expected Satoru’s usual quips and huffiness. He indulges.

“(Y/N) wore cherry-flavoured lipgloss.”

The proof is in the coloured streaks on his dick. You feel it twitch on your tongue and pull away, your hot breath on his cockhead making precum leak out of his blushing tip. You rest it on your velvet tongue, unabashedly pouting to kiss the tip and then taking him inside again. Those slightly shimmery streaks made Satoru grit his teeth.

“I didn’t know those came in flavours,” Satoru moans. “How come you don’t wear that for me too?”

“Because it’s for me, you little shithead,” Suguru growls lowly. Their foreheads touch as he tightens his grip on Satoru’s neck, the pressure making Satoru’s eyelids flutter for a second. “It’s my prize for exorcising curses.”

“You jealous?” you wonder out loud. The answer was clear but there was a rush to make Satoru admit it.

“Yes, I am!” He curses for a moment as you descend further down to lick at his balls, looking up at him still as if this conversation was taking place over a dinner table and not in an alleyway with society just a few meters away. As if his dick wasn't on your face while you feel his balls tightening up on your tongue.

Seriously, if somebody peered down long enough they would most definitely catch sight of the three of you here.

“I just – just...fuck, I missed the two of you too. It’s completely unfair you’ve been keeping this from me too! I’ll never forgive you.”

Suguru grabs the back of your neck and pulls you backward. His large hands effectively push your head down further and further until your nose is at the neat patch of pubic hair Satoru has. You relax your throat and jaw, eyes watering while you brace your hands on Satoru’s thighs.

“So why didn’t you just tell us that, darling?" Suguru purrs. "Instead, you chose to be a brat and stomp around. You’re better than that, Satoru. Aren’t you? Hm?”

You gag but Suguru holds you in place. His hand barely has any real strength behind it. If you jerked backward, he would not hold you in place. No, no. Suguru’s power comes from the lack of strength he needs to exhibit. His dominance is in the ease Suguru commands it.

"Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. You needed him inside of you.

“Screw you, Suguru,” Satoru chokes out.

He pulls you off. You cough, spit staining your chin as you smile loosely at them. Suguru then pulls you onto your feet, pushes you to the wall, and undoes your pants. You bite down on your lower lip, staring at Satoru as you brace your hands onto the wall just next to him. Satoru watches on, trying to keep himself strong by pretending he isn’t affected by the sight before him.

Suguru gathers spit in his mouth but pauses as he feels the candy wrapper in your pockets. The chocolate brand makes his brows raise. It’s expensive. No doubt Satoru’s influence had rubbed off on you. Only one company in the world made this chocolate, its pink colour is a dead giveaway. No wonder your cherry-flavoured gloss tasted so strong, it was complimented nicely by the leftover taste of this ruby chocolate.

He lets your pants pool around your ankles while he takes a bite. It wasn’t disgustingly soft, but your body heat made it melt quickly on his tongue. He spreads your ass apart and spits a thick glob of his spit and pink chocolate. The sensation sends shivers up your back and you arch your back further, unsure about the new sensation.

“Suguru, that was expensive — ngh!”

Your eyes widen as he presses his cock inside. You were thankful for your morning romp with them. It loosened you up enough that Suguru’s impatience didn’t cause pain and only mild discomfort — he reaches forward to jerk your cock off to ebb it away and you moan out his name.

“Shh, shh, not so loud. We’re still outside, baby.”

Satoru groans, reaching to toss his glasses away as he turns his back to the entrance and gives you his full attention. He’s craving touch. To taste or to mark you up. To do anything, really. He is goddamn hypnotized by the way Suguru’s dick thrusts in and out of you. Suguru gives you a good fucking for too short of a time — pounding into you like a jackhammer and making you nearly bite your tongue off in an attempt to keep quiet before he pulls out.

Your knees buckle, thighs twitching as you try to keep yourself upright. Satoru’s knees thud onto the floor and he greedily laps at Suguru’s cock, moaning at the creamy taste. The same flavour leaks out of you while you catch your breath. The mouth of the alleyway is quiet but there are still the faint noises of the city just there. A few big strides away. But there. It excites you. You imagine it’s exciting your equally perverted boyfriends too.

"Satoru," Suguru groans at the sight of him. You peel yourself from the wall. Shoulders thudding onto the hard surface while your pants drop to your ankles. Shakily, you use your feet to push it all the way off, eyes trained on Satoru savouring the flavour of Suguru and the ruby chocolate. He pulls away with a breathy 'pwah!' and strokes Suguru's creamy dick.

You're tempted to join Satoru. Just sharing Suguru's cock, kissing Satoru with his cockhead between your lips. Fuck, just the thought has your dick slapping lightly against your navel. Suguru plants a hand near your head, turning his head to kiss you while the other is tugging on the roots of Satoru's head. a

"Both of my boys are being so obedient," he says after a deliciously deep groan of Satoru's name. "We missed you," you reply in a whiny whisper.

"Missed you so much, S'guru..."

Satoru moans, pulling away as he catches his breath and shares a heated gaze.

"Fuck, I missed you so badly. Missed this dick too," Satoru turns to your crotch and kisses the underside of your dick. It makes your breath hitch, hips jerking forward. The wetness of your precum smears on Satoru's cheek a bit but he doesn't even mind. Nor does he seem to notice.

"These cocks are the only ones that make me this hungry."

Suguru glances at the alleyway. You're not loud enough to draw attention. Still, better safe than sorry.

"Emerge from the darkness, blacker than darkness. Purify that which is impure." You throw your head back to laugh. A veil was meant to conceal, protect those outside of it, and maintain secrecy. To use it so improperly.

The three of you were truly perverted.

"What's got you all giggly?" Suguru speaks against your lips. Tilting your chin upwards then squeezing the sides of your neck just to relish in the way you bare your neck to him.

"You used a veil," Satoru speaks for you. He raises, ignoring Suguru's pointed glance in favour of unbuttoning your shirt and kissing down your chest. His lips are sticky, smears of pink tainting you but you find it hard to care. "He's laughing because he thinks we're perverts."

"What are you? A mind reader now, Satoru?" You huff.

"I might as well be, huh?" Satoru smirks. He's so handsome that it makes your chest hurt sometimes. You're against the wall, exits blocked by Suguru and Satoru and you wouldn't have it any other way. "You know, I missed you too. It's been weeks — "

"Three days," Suguru and you corrected.

"Weeks. And this morning wasn't enough. We did such a good job, those wrinkle bags can't complain if we just so happened to work overtime, right?"

Ijichi can't stop his cheek from heating up. It's painfully, painfully, obvious why the three of you took your time for this mission. He had waited in the car for the first hour, then occupied himself with some coffee at a nearby cafe but by the third hour, Ijichi almost called Principal Yaga.

Three Special Grade Sorcerers took that long to exorcise an abandoned building. Surely, something must have happened!

Yet, seeing you sleeping on Suguru's lap with your legs across Satoru's lap confirms the real reason why it took the three of you that long.

Satoru has a weighted eye mask, head tossed back as he recuperates. This gives Ijichi a clear sight of his marked-up neck. Your shirt is wrinkled, hitched up from the bend of your waist, and giving him the whispers of handmarks. Suguru met his gaze from the rearview and Ijichi whispered out an apology.

"No, please. We're sorry for keeping you waiting." Suguru is brushing your bangs back, gently wiping down some residual stickiness on your cheeks with wet wipes (that Ijichi had made a point to stock up on in the car after earlier missions involving you three).

"No, I understand," he says with a shaky voice. Sighing a little he laughed awkwardly from the driver's seat.

"You must've been missing them a lot for those three days they've been gone, Mr Geto."

Suguru's expression softens, leaning one shoulder down when Satoru leans to place his head on his shoulders.

"It's hard not to. I love them."

[lxkeee]

I absolutely love your writing!! And don't get me wrong, I love Lucifer, but they way you write Azreal and the Eveningstar family lives in my head 24/7. The AU where reader ends up with Azrael is my absolute fav to come back to, along with the main series it stemmed from. I'd love to see more content of him in general. I've been driving myself crazy imaging a part 2 to the AU with Lucifer wanting to reconnect with reader and having this family unit with them, only to realize that he lost them completely when he fell and that they've moved one and found happiness without him. Very hurt/no comfort for Luci while reader finally experiences a returned unconditional love with Azrael.

TWO SIDES OF THE SAME COIN

—ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSE

Pairing: Azrael Eveningstar x Seraphim Angel! Reader

Genre: angst

Warnings: hurt and no comfort for our short king

Notes: an alternate universe where [y/n]'s family is complete, Xavier doesn't have any daddy issues nor has any hatred for Charlie as he doesn't give any crap about her and Lucifer (well, he did at some point but forgave them), where it was simply the wrong person and wrong time. Where it was Azrael who is endgame. This isn't canon to the fanfic storyline, simply an au.

Additional notes: I LOVE IT WHEN READERS WANT MORE AZRAEL CONTENT OMG

CH. 1 | CH. 4 | NAVIGATION

They finally have done it. Hazbin Hotel is finally booming in business, many sinners are finally checking in and giving redemption a try.

Though, Lucifer cannot help but be nervous. Heaven or specifically, the Seven Virtues requested a meeting with him and his daughter and along with Vaggie, they wanted to talk about the hotel and also about his punishment.

Why wouldn't he be nervous? The last time he was in a meeting with them, they absolutely crushed his hopes and dreams and to add to the fact that his first wife, now ex-wife is part of the organization.

Lucifer doesn't know how to handle it, he's afraid of how he'll act once he sees her and the fact that Charlie told him about his son that he left her with. Absolute guilt.

He misses her, he misses [y/n] so much and he regrets how he treated her. He neglected her, abandoned her and their son. Even after all these years, his heart still longed for her.

“Dad? You okay?” Charlie asked worriedly, holding her bag. Currently, they are waiting for the portal to heaven to open for their meeting tomorrow. She noticed that her dad seems to be in deep thought, she knows what's plaguing his mind—meeting his ex-wife again and seeing his son for the first time. She too is nervous about what will happen when that moment comes.

“The portal seems to be taking a long time to open.” Angel Dust snickered and Vaggie elbowed him on the side, somehow both Alastor, Niffty, and Angel Dust wanted to join them. Leaving the hotel underneath [f/n]'s care, another overlord who joined the hotel.

“You're really complaining when you're not even invited,” Vaggie muttered before turning to look at Alastor, “I am even surprised that even you also decided to join us, how come?” Vaggie deadpans at Alastor and the taller demon just laugh, radio static filling the air, “Myyy~! I am merely curious what the heavenly realms looked like. Nothing more~” He grins, quite mischievously. Vaggie narrowed her eyes at the radio demon.

Lucifer sighs and shakes his head and gives Charlie a small reassuring smile, “I'll be fine, I'm just a little... Nervous.” he admits softly and Charlie nodded in understanding, placing a hand over her father's shoulder. She understands him, she too is nervous in seeing her half brother. Last time she saw him, he was giving her judgmental looks.

“I'm sure we'll be fine... Maybe this will be your chance to reconnect with them?” Charlie suggested, hopeful that somehow the two families can find a neutral area to get along with each other. After all, she always wanted an older sibling or siblings in general. She hopes that she and Xavier can get along.

Lucifer smiled, he too is hoping that this meeting will be fruitful and won't go so horribly.

A golden portal opened in front of them and they looked at each other, nodding as they finally took a step inside.

Heaven, is very bright compared to hell. Too much white, gold, and blues.

The crew looked at Lucifer, urging him to take the lead as he did come from here. Lucifer sighs, despite the nervousness, he decides to approach the pearly white gates of heaven. Standing in front of the counter of Saint Peter. The others are following him.

“Welcome to heaven, can I get your names please?” Saint Peter asked, opening his book. Lucifer sighs, twiddling his thumbs nervously.

“Lucifer... Morningstar...” Lucifer says, almost a whisper. Cringing slightly as he watched the Saint slam his book close, “Oh... Fuck!” Saint Peter exclaimed with a nervous chuckle.

“Um... I wasn't aware that you will be visiting today...” the Saint said with an awkward chuckle, Angel Dust just smirked while Alastor just grins, clearly interested in what heaven has to offer.

Charlie stood nervously beside Lucifer, unsure what to do next.

“Saint Peter, please grant them access. They are here for an important meeting.” a young masculine voice says, surprising the hell citizens. Turning to look at the gate and their eyes widened to see an almost exact replica of Lucifer—except for the eyes and height.

Lucifer's eyes widened and Charlie can be seen to become more nervous as the young man approached their group.

Saint Peter eyes widened, not expecting to see the young general today. “R-right. Please, come in.. heaven officially welcomes you.” Saint Peter says, opening the gates wider for the group.

Lucifer couldn't think, his ears ringing as he looked at the newcomer. Lucifer examined the angel's appearance—an almost exact replica of him and of course, he knows those eyes very well. The same [e/c] eyes his ex-wife has. The angel wearing a white military-ish uniform with gold shoulder pads, elbow length black leather gloves and knee high leather black heeled boots.

Charlie gave his hand a gentle squeeze in assurance, he squeezed it back, grateful for her support.

Alastor grins, not expecting a twist in the scenario.

The young man turned to look at them with a gentle smile, “Greetings, I am Xavier. I am tasked with showing you guys where you will stay for tonight.” Xavier says.

Xavier looked at his obvious half family from hell, before, he had anger for them but because of his mother's influence, he was able to manage his anger on them. But it doesn't mean he'll accept Lucifer and Charlotte his family, he already has his own family in heaven. He doesn't need them.

“Please follow me and keep up.” Xavier says, almost emotionless. It's a habit of his, it might come off as rude or cold to people he just met but he doesn't care. His mother is the angel of kindness, he needs to inherit her kindness instead of his father's pride.

The hell citizens just looked at him with slight nervousness—aside from the smiling one—before eventually following him.

Lucifer just stared at the back of Xavier's head, the golden halo shining brightly against his light blonde hair. He wanted to speak to him but words wouldn't come out of his mouth. He just follows in silence, his demon kind just looking at him in worry—except Alastor, who just gave him a teasing grin.

They followed him, it took a while but they finally arrived at their destination. A large white mansion with black and gold accents, surrounded by fluffy white clouds and trees. Sunflower and tulip fields decorating the front garden. [Y/n]'s favorite flowers.

“This is where you'll be staying so please, come inside.” Xavier says, the gates to the large mansion opening for them.

They admired the scenery, it is completely different from hell. Clean and tidy. Almost blinding to the eye.

They finally arrived inside the large mansion, completely in awe with its exterior and interior designs.

“Don't worry about the palace being too crowded, it's just me and my family living here.” Xavier explained, ushering them to follow him. Walking towards the supposed living room, they weren't able to see the large family portrait on the wall as it was mounted on a wall that they couldn't see.

“I am surprised we're staying somewhere luxurious this time unlike last time. How come?” Charlie asked and Xavier gave her a raised eyebrow before sighing.

“The guest rooms are currently full while waiting for new buildings to be created for the new souls. The seven thought it would be a good idea if one of them houses you guys.” Xavier shrugs before continuing to tour them around. Angel whistling in admiration.

“And this will be your room.” Xavier says as he showed Lucifer his room. The others are already settled in.

“Thank you.” Lucifer says, almost a whisper as he went inside the large luxurious room. Xavier nodded as he stood at the doorway.

“It's nothing, I'll get going now and if you need me, I'll be in the living room.” Xavier says before turning around to leave.

“Wait!”

Lucifer doesn't know what he was thinking, he just acted out on impulse. Xavier stopped, turning around to look at him with a raised eyebrow.

“What is it?” Xavier asked, looking down on him. Mom, why is he so small? He thought.

Lucifer gulped, clearly nervous, “Are you... My...?” he couldn't get all the words out as his ears were ringing.

“Son?” Xavier completed, crossing his arms to look at his blood father, “Yes.” he says flatly and Lucifer's breath hitched.

Xavier sighs, already done with this, “Look, I am going to be straight with you dear father of mine.” Xavier says flatly, Lucifer looking at the taller boy in front of him.

“Just because you're my blood father doesn't mean I want you back in my life, whatever you're trying to do. I don't welcome it. I couldn't care less about you or my half sister. Do you understand? So, stop. Don't give me and my family a hard time. You've done enough damage already.” Xavier says coldly, catching Lucifer off guard. The fallen angel's heart shattered at the boy's harshness.

“Excuse me, I still have work to do.” Xavier says as he quickly walked away. Lucifer nodded, almost robotic. He went inside the guestroom and cried.

Lucifer doesn't blame Xavier for acting that way. After all, he's a horrible husband and father to [y/n] and Xavier.

Dinner was oddly awkward, a tension between the three blood relatives. Xavier didn't join them, opting to only have a drink instead.

“Aren't you going to eat?” Charlie asked hesitantly as she sat beside her dad, Xavier didn't bother looking up from his golden holographic screen that came from his wrist watch, his other hand typing into the hair and into the hologram.

“I'll eat later.” Xavier answers nonchalantly, they can clearly see him texting his mom.

M: Don't be too harsh on them sunshine.

X: I'm trying.

D: Well you better try harder, kiddo.

X: 🙄

X: What time will you come home?

D: Late as usual.

M: Indeed, there are still many things to finish but your father and I will make it quick to join you for dinner.

X: Alright, stay safe.

D: Love you, kiddo. Goodluck lol.

M: We will, sunshine. Love you<3

X: love you guys too.

Xavier was grinning slightly as he texted some people, Lucifer assumed it was [y/n] and somebody else he doesn't know of.

Lucifer avoided Xavier after that, clearly heartbroken. Lucifer assumes the D and M profiles meant Mom and Dad and Lucifer assumed that [y/n] remarried and he can clearly see how happy Xavier is talking to them.

To shorten this all up, the meeting went smoothly. The Seven Virtues promised to fund the hotel and also asked for Lucifer's forgiveness for how harsh they treated him. Heaven took back his punishment and he can freely visit heaven anytime. Lucifer was able to find out that Azrael married [y/n] and she's happily married to the man. Though, she doesn't hate him and forgave him but she did make it clear that she doesn't want him back to her life and so did Xavier and Lucifer respected their wishes.

Finally returning back to hell, Lucifer was extremely heartbroken. He lost before he even got to start. But part of him is glad that [y/n] found a better man than him, someone who treats her better than him.

End notes: I got a little lazy at the end lmao.

TAGLIST:

[wonryllis]

ᨓ ENHYPEN FINDING YOUR WRITING ACCOUNT OF THEM.

. . ──𝖺𝗅𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗒, 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖽𝖾𝗅𝗎𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇𝖺𝗅 𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗑𝗉𝗈𝗌𝖾𝖽.

﹙ 𝒘𝐞𝐛 ⭑ 𝒅𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐢𝓁𝓈. ﹚ enhypen discovering your top secret. fem!r. fluff, crack maybe a bit requested. wordcount` 664. アーカイブ ARCHIVE?

𝗵𝗲𝗲𝘀𝗲𝘂𝗻𝗴 he would be so giddy, and embarrassed and shy to find out that you write about him, boy is too flustered about the fact that you make fan content to even question anything else. it'd take a few days for him to let it all settle into his mind and then oh my god it's hell, he'll look up your account secretly even though you told him not to and then he'll keep saying random things he picked from you pieces to tease you. "my pretty doll, i will burn the world to save you"

𝗷𝗼𝗻𝗴𝘀𝗲𝗼𝗻𝗴 he is so so so sooooo embarrassed like he'll forget whatever he was up to when you accidentally let it spill that your latest post of him was doing so well. he will simply ask if you write about him and when you hesitantly admit it he'll be like okay great i hope you account does well??? he loves being the one you write for but he doesn't want to embarrass you by speaking any more of it. although from time to time he will ask for some updates on how it's been going.

𝗷𝗮𝗲𝘆𝘂𝗻 he is so happy you don't understand the level at which he is like platinum gem rank happy. he'll immediately sit with you beg you to show him your account and let him read through the fics, even the other members' he's just so curious he can't sit still. he'll read one with like heeseung as a secret agent and then tell you he would have been a better suit for it. then he'll read a spiderman one you wrote for him and then ask you if you wanna try the upside down kiss.

𝘀𝘂𝗻𝗴𝗵𝗼𝗼𝗻 he stopped working, system crashed. unable to believe for days that you got a fan account about him and on top of that you write things about him. thinks he's dreaming until you speak of it again and he's like you weren't joking?? will ask you things about it like what you write and how it works, if people like his fics and what aus you write him in and why you think of him as fitting for an au. a literal question bank, will inquire about every little detail but never look it up himself.

𝘀𝗲𝗼𝗻𝘄𝗼𝗼 he's like in disbelief but like in a happy really elated way so excited to see you account, your aesthetic, your follower count, your writing style. just about everything and he's so supportive like you go girl, he'll also most probably make an account himself and follow you. commenting on each fic and sending asks like 'guess who baby (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)' he will also look through other accounts to come up with better advice to grow you space. will save the pieces you write about him to reread.

𝗷𝘂𝗻𝗴𝘄𝗼𝗻 the happiest kitty in the world, will leave everything literally drop it the second you tell him you got a writing account of him whether it's accidental or intentional. ask you the username and read all of your pieces about him in one sitting. definitely will get jealous to see others you wrote for and more if you someone else has more fics than him. will immediately give you new ideas like plan out a whole plot and then tell you, it's about him and you in an alternate universe so you need to write it.

𝗿𝗶𝗸𝗶 he is immediately teasing you to cover up the embarrassment he feels, like an internal struggle of why should he be the one embarrassed when you are the one who write fanfiction about him. will take your phone from you open your account and read it aloud, though halfway in he'll genuinely get invested especially if it's a social media au, going 'm not like that!' every chapter and when he's caught up to the latest one, he'll bug you to reveal what happens next, after all it's his story!

taglist ( open. ) @kangseulgithegreat @s00buwu @luvyev @pockyyasii @nctislifue @ashtxrie @miniature-tragedy @jayujus @brachives @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly @eeunoia @nxzz-skz @shawnyle @enhaswirlds @enhasnuggles

[picturejasper20]

Steven Universe as a character is someone who has been mischaracterized and flanderized over the years, to the point people who aren't into the fandom or haven't watched the show believe that mischaracterization to be a fact rather that a product that comes from memes and jokes

The truth is that Steven often fights in the series when it is needed, usually by fusing with someone else like Connie or Amethyst since he is still developing his powers in the original series. He doesn't cry when he has to fight back or defend himself, with exception if the person attacking is someone he considers a friend. Because, yes, for a 14-15 old teenager it isn't fun having to do something like that and it can be traumatic.

He also doesn't start to cry the moment someone refuses to change their mind or is being mean. He often isn't afraid to be sarcastic or call that person out. He didn't cry when Aquamarine mocked him in ¨Stuck Together¨ nor when Jasper didn't apologize for poofing Amethyst in ¨Crack the Whip¨

However, what we see is sometimes him blaming himself for not being able to help people that, more often than not, have been hurt by Rose Quartz, his mother, in some way. After Season 3, Steven fears a lot that he is going to become like Rose and he is going to hurt people the way like she did.

In general Steven deals with an Atlas complex in the show. He feels like he has to fix his mother mistakes and deal with ¨what she left behind¨ even when Rose wanted for him to be his own person as seen in the tape she left for him as it was revealed in the episode ¨Lion 4: The Alternate Ending¨.

Steven also defines his identity a lot for being to help other people and fix their problems. He believes that he has to be ¨useful¨ for others. So when he believes that he failed to help someone, that may lead him to think that he isn't living up to his ¨purpose¨ or that he is a failure as a person.

In reality, he isn't that much different from other hero protagonists from other animated shows. Those who are kind and emphatic and willing to listen to other people and give them a second chance if the person changes their ways. You probably like an animated show that has a protagonist like this. (Who was probably taken inspiration from Steven if the series came out after SU).

The main difference, i think, is that Steven goes a bit more than those protagonists do when it comes to listening to other people, understand their motivations and give them another chance if they regret their actions. A lot has to do with how he is aware that his enemies (usually gems) act the way the do because of the system they were born into rather ¨they are evil just because¨. He gets that their motivations come from the system that hurt them or lead them to believe that their actions are justified.

Another common mischaracterization is that Steven becomes super buddies with every person he helps...when this isn't always the case. There are some occasions that Steven shows discomfort around people who he has given a second chance. Just because he gives them a second chance doesn't mean that he immediately considers them close friends, maybe allies at best.

A good example of this is the gif above of Steven's interactions with White Diamond in ¨Homeworld Bound¨. White Diamond touches Steven very close to where his gem is- which makes Steven distressed since in his battle again White, she ripped his gem out to prove that Pink was still ¨alive¨. In most of the episode Steven shows to be very uncomfortable around the Diamonds and Spinel, to some extent. They bring him bad memories, which is the main reason he has been doing everything to avoid going to them to ask for their help until this point in Steven Universe Future. He even almost accidentally hurts White's gem by smashing her head against a pillar when she lets him control her to talk to himself. This being result of a intrusive ¨vengeful¨ thought.

I wouldn't say that Steven hates the Diamonds,but- he doesn't want to be their friend neither and wants to avoid in general because he feels nervous and bad around them. It's something like ¨I'm glad that you are changing but i don't want to be associated with you. Please, i would appreciate if you kept your distance from me.¨ dynamic.

On last point, Steven is someone who usually pushes his feelings down in certain situations and buries them down, which has led him to have strong emotional outbursts in bad moments. He usually prefers to ignore his own problems and take priority on others. Again, this comes a lot from his desire to be useful and be needed, making him trying to ignore how he feels about certain people and pretend that he is doing fine.

This explains why we don't see him lash out that much to others in the original series, and, why he feels so frustrated and angry in Future, since all that anger and negative feelings can't no longer be ignored as they used to and they are having a negative impact in Steven's mental health. This, of course, isn't meant to be seen is a healthy coping mechanism. It is in fact potrayed as something pretty self-destructive for Steven, as a huge flaw of his, that over time he comes to learn that it isn't the best way for him to deal with his problems.

These are some of the most common misconceptions i have seen about Steven's character online. I could go in more depth with some of them but i think the points should be clear enough. This could be considered a general analysis of how Steven is as a character and how he operates, leaving aside more specific things that can be covered in other posts.

[iamfarfromvibingrightnow]

Starkid love song lyrics are honestly insane

like

"He is at once familiar and unknowable to the frightened girl he meets along the way, and to the girl's surprise, something in his eyes beckons her to know him and inspires her to say "I want to know your story."

"Take me back in time to love you. Take me back when we were lost. Lost in love and lost in feeling, without the cost."

"She is at once a comfort and a mystery, to the callow man she meets that fateful day."

"I want to know how you see me, and if it's the same as I see you. With the colours of love on your paintbrush, paint how you see me."

"A thousand and one nights with you is not enough to spend, so let's make ours a story with no end."

"I wish that she could hear her voice, the way that I do when I go to sleep at night, and dream my life away, but she's gone when I awake."

"Take me back when things were light. Light my heart and light my shadow, one more night. Cause I already lost it once, what I already won. I've lost too much now to care, but I know that something’s still there. I'll never let you go."

"Even though I was blind before, I've realized there is so much more. And it was always deep down in the core of me. I know it now. And even though it seems too much to take, there's a feeling I can't seem to shake. I feel like I am reading the signs, 'cause I know that I'm coming around."

"They say you can't feel, with a heart made of steel, but you can't say that steel ain't strong. Well if that's who you are, just a meaningless star in the sky, tell me what is the meaning of what I am feeling if you are the reason why? Now I may be dumb, but where I come from, folks say they're fine when I know that they're blue. But you don't know you the way I do."

"Are we crazy, or did we just taste something sweet? Not sure what to think, but you helped me to see. It's not the outside of things that make them good, that make them bad, that make them anything. All you need is just a taste to start something good."

"This body's not gonna last, the air is cold and thick. I'm losing my last remaining hope for us. My hands are tied in knots and I can't come home. I wanna die in your arms in the evening glow."

"You and I were meant to be something more than a faded memory."

"Now, i still have troubles. I trip and stumble trying to make sense of things sometimes.. And i look for reasons, but i don't need 'em. All i need is to look in your eyes."

"What if I tried something new, and opened up my arms to you? I know we don't always agree, but they need you as much as me. What if I could promise more, than what I gave to you before?"

"I never cared for stories until you entered mine, and now my only wish is that our plots may intertwine."

"You look just like an angel and all I do is pray, that someday you'll hear my song and understand that all along, there's something more that I'm trying to say."

"The universe is infinite, and it’s definite, there’s an alternate reality, where it’s only you and me. Take me back in time to love you. Hold me closer than before. Heal my heart and mend what's broken, to feel you once more."

[ddarker-dreams]

Entanglement.

Yan Kafka x F Reader.

Warnings: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, power imbalance, unwanted kissing, mild not SFW implications. Word count: 1k.

“You’re still refusing to wear the clothes I gifted you, dearest?” 

A dulcet voice smoother than the finest silk coos from behind. 

You don’t deviate from your original task. Just outside the window, the cold, unforgiving vacuum of space looms. A mere panel of specialized glass is the only barrier between you and infinite nothingness. The concept used to frighten you, to a paralyzing extent. It got to the point your oh-so-benevolent captor had to make adjustments. Using some technology you’re unacquainted with, the dark canvas morphed into a familiar, more palpable set piece: the scenery of your home planet. 

You’ve since overcome this hurdle and no longer require the mirage’s services. 

Space isn’t what you fear anymore. No, it’s the woman with the future in her eyes who holds that distinction. 

“It isn’t to my taste.” 

“I know,” she agrees. Her perfume is near stupefying when it invades your senses. “It's to mine.” 

Kafka is either aggravatingly unassuming or laser-sharp with her intentions. You’re never given time to adjust to her fickle ways, the second you think you might understand her, she reveals just enough that you’re right back where you started. 

Gloved fingers hover over your wrist, causing your hair to stand on end. As if she’s playing a glissando on the piano, her fingers slowly creep up, from your forearm to your bare shoulder. Presently, you’re wearing one of the few garments you were allowed to bring. It’s a plain, white dress that she longs to stain with her own palette. 

Her arms envelop your midsection from behind. She nuzzles her nose into your neck, swaying you back and forth while she hums a haunting ballad. Can she hear the skipping of your heart? Does she consider it just another instrument to compose her hedonistic harmonies? 

“Are the stars truly that interesting?” she murmurs against your skin. “Surely, they aren’t prettier than I am, hm?” 

“Maybe. At least they understand the concept of personal space.” 

“Oh, I do as well. I just choose to ignore it when it comes to you.” 

“I wish you wouldn’t.” 

You can feel her smile.

“You’d be lonely without me. Maddeningly so.” 

“Insanity is tempting if you’re the alternative.” 

She laughs, the sound low and husky, belying any offense taken, if you had the hubris to think anything you said could hurt her. Before you can register anything, she twirls you around. In this new, uncomfortable intimate position, you’re forced to look her in the eye. There’s no quality of hers that unsettles you more. They draw you in and devour you like a black hole, picking apart actions you haven’t even committed yet. 

It reminds you, similar to the path she walks, that nothing you do will ever amount to any meaningful change in your circumstances. 

Kafka settles her gloved pointer finger and thumb on your chin, tilting your head up. Whatever she’s thinking is as unknowable as the universe itself. Her fondness for you is an illness without a cure — even she must know how sick it is. Something tells you that if a remedy for it ever existed, she’d refuse to take it, and would instead crush the vial before your eyes. 

“What a beauty you are,” she praises through lidded eyes. “There is no greater joy than knowing you feel every second we’re apart, just as I do.” 

Irate, you try moving your head away, but this causes her grip to tighten. Never enough to hurt — it’s only meant to warn. 

“I take it you don’t like the cosmetics I brought back, either?” 

Kafka delights in asking questions she already knows the answers to. If she had anything resembling a hobby, you suppose that would be it. 

The skin beneath her eyes crinkled with amusement at your abrupt vow of silence. You fight off a shiver at the look. It’s all-consuming, dangerous in a way that rouses your primal instincts. She leans down close enough that you can feel her breath fan against your face. Her head tilts in a deliberate show of faux curiosity. 

“Is your tongue frozen? Should I think of a way to warm it up?” 

The hand that isn’t holding your head in place toys with the strap of your dress. 

Swallowing thickly, you shake your head. You know when to surrender in a losing game. 

“... No.” 

“No?” She repeats, mimicking the inflection of your voice. “Ah, well, that’s a shame.” 

You almost sigh in relief when her hand retreats. She reaches into a pocket on the inside of her coat and pulls out a tube of lipstick. She applies the roseate pigment, maintaining smoldering eye contact with you all the while.

After what feels like an eternity, she descends upon you, her lips seeking yours in a fit of scathing passion. You freeze up at the unexpected boldness. She takes advantage of your reverie, interlocking your lips in a languid motion. There’s no urgency to the kiss, she takes her time with you, just how she likes it. 

Her hand presses against your back, urging your chest to arch into hers. It isn’t until her hand starts venturing down that you return to your senses. In a fit of panic, you raise your hands to push her away. The defiance gets you nowhere — she catches your wrists with ease and holds them in place. 

Fortunately, she pulls back, although she doesn’t relinquish her grip. 

“I knew this color would look good on you,” Kafka sighs, almost wistful. Then, she raises your wrist and presses a lingering kiss against your pulse point. It leaves a smudged lipstick stain behind. “That leaves the issue of the outfit. Hm, what to do, what to do…” 

As if hit with an epiphany, her eyes light up in microscopic supernovas. “I know. If you need my help applying makeup, then why should getting dressed be any different? Why, you should’ve said so sooner.” 

Indignant, you seethe, “That isn’t…! Fine, I’ll put it on myself. Just— just turn around, okay?” 

“Of course. Anything for my sweet, shy girl.” 

Surprisingly, Kafka acquiesces. She pivots on her heel and covers her eyes with her hands. A teasing gesture, if you had to guess. 

Just when you believe you’re regained a semblance of control over the situation, she throws in a comment that snuffs out this fledgling hope. 

“I’ll give you to the count of a ten before I come and help you myself.” 

[bythepen98]

Doodles || Tomarry || Childhood friends/Growing Up Together au

(Ignore the not-so-time-period-accurate outfits)

Think of this as a timetravel au where Harry accidentally gets sent back to the past in Wool's orphanage at a young enough age where he barely notices the changes caused by the time displacement and thus grows up nonethewiser to his destiny as the Chosen One. Even when, objectively, his life at the orphanage could be considered worse considering the growing lack of food, his environment's state of decay and overall unrest happening outside the orphanage's walls, something about his situation felt right(?).

He'd always felt disconnected and out of place based on the few memories he still had from living with the Dursleys but now, it felt like he was home in a way. Like something finally clicked in his brain, his soul.

His instant connection to Tom helped cement that fact. It wasn't easy at first because the pull they felt when they first met was so strong that it scared Harry shtless and Tom, already half-full of resentment by this point, was horrified feeling anything to anyone that wasn't disgust. In the end, it didn't take long for them to meet halfway since they were still children and curiosity at the connection lured them in like candy; Harry wanted a special friend of his own and Tom convinced himself that Harry was worth his time because there was no way anyone ordinary could elicit such a soul deep response from him.

Tom has a mean streak and is more bloodthirsty than his charming facade would show but is honest about it with Harry. Although he doesn't have much to his name, Tom is serious about his self-imposed role as Harry's provider, giving him gifts (from the money he steals) during his birthdays and keeping him as warm and well fed as possible (by bullying the other kids into surrendering their share).

Sometimes, Tom....worries.....that his methods would eventually drive Harry - who has such an inherent goodness in him, so often kind to people who don't deserve it - away but what he fails to understand is that Harry's love and loyalty to the first friend he's ever made trumps any kindness he has for others. He'll never like needless violence and won't react if he was being targeted but all bets are off if he even a catches a whiff of plots against Tom. If he has to help hide a body or two in the future so that they won't be separated by something as inconvenient as jail or the law, then that's nobody's business but his own.

P.S. This Harry will probably go to Hufflepuff instead of Slytherin like in other fics. It just feels right. Probably should've drawn him wearing a yellow tie but only just got the idea as I'm typing this. Tom would rather eat slugs than go to the Hufflepuff common room but he's more than willing to entertain Harry at the Slytherin common room at every available chance. They have their own seat there and everything.

P.P.S. They also co adopt a tiny(??) baby snake when they realize they can both speak parseltongue and bring him along to hogwarts. Imagine being parents at the big old age of 10 to a possibly magical snake that may or may not grow past nagini-level size.

P.P.P.S. Future power couple in the making. Didn't think that far ahead whether I wanted Tom to go the political route or Dark Lord Voldemort style minus the horcruxes. Don't ask for me the details, just know that with Harry's help, Tom finds a way to prolong their lives without the consequences that come with using horcruxes. They may or may not discover that Harry is in fact a horcrux of Tom already but will never get the answer as to how it happened. Harry worries but Tom just chocks it up as the universe's way of paying him back for his shtty pre-Harry childhood. Ironically the type to believe in soulmates and destiny while Harry is a bit more skeptical on that front.

Alternatively, they could also decide not to do anything too significant -politically- at all and instead retire to the country side while doing research on as many branches of magic as they can. A bit laughable because of Tom's world altering ambitions and Harry's indulgent, enabling behavior but at the same time, anything's possible.

[s3thwrit3sstuff]

there truly is no words that can captivate my feelings for the au/what-ifs... EXCEPT FOR MADNESS

LET YN AND HIS SUSU BE IN LOVE!!! IM GOING TO START A PROTEST!!!!

❝ You know what sinners do when they love too soon (are you ready to die?) ❞

Geto Suguru x male!reader x Gojo Satoru | alternate universe, "evil" YN with his Susu | angst and NSFW warning | sub. bottom. reader (AMAB) | NOT PROOFREAD | wc: 7.4k

warnings: cults, extreme ideologies, mentions of arranged marriage, talks of death, implications of child soldiers, YN's father still sucks ass, anal sex, d. penetration

masterlist; part 1; part 2; part 3; alternate ending; playlist; au's and what if's

authors note: poly!satosuguyn if they weren't fluffy basically also, shout out to music anon for the title, I loved every title track you gave! gave me such a big boost for writing too!!! *YN is described as having a back scar from the fight with Fushiguro Toji

Like vinyl, dark stone, and crystal — Suguru's hair has always been one of his defining factors. Those healthy locks of inky black hair that glow a dark violet under light; no matter how he wears it, his hair is the envy of all. In the years that have passed, the envious stares grew greener the longer he wore it. With this change — among others — a new routine had been born between your small family.

Suguru does not tend to his hair. His husband and his daughters do. Not because he commands it. Suguru would never command them to do anything, especially if it came to taking care of himself. He was more than capable.

The three of you know this. But the habit does not stop. He takes care of all of you so you do the same in any way you can. Tonight, it will be your turn to ease him down. No missions, or meetings with the "money monkeys". Suguru will return home in his car and he will return home to his family and he will return home to you.

"Master (L/N)," Nanako calls out. She's dressed for sleep, her bangs already in curlers for tomorrow and smelling faintly of the rose hair oil she'd gotten from her trip to the city. Mimiko walks behind you, holding the tray of homemade food. You smile at the rose scent that wafts from her hair as well. "Yes, my darling?" You have told them they were allowed to refer to you without formality. Suguru had a title within his "organization" and so the twins calling him "Master Geto" was understandable — though entirely unnecessary. But if the girls felt more comfortable this way, you would not force them to change. "When we go to Tokyo, you're going to come with us to the crepe shop, right?" her eyes gleam up at you as she turns the screen of her phone to show the interior of the famous crepe restaurant. Despite not seeing a peek at a menu, you imagine it'll be daylight robbery. "Of course! I can't let you have all the fun," she giggles at the playful wiggle of your fingers her way. "I know a good spot for fruit parfait as well. Suguru and I used to go there as teenagers, I'm sure you'll love it." Mimiko settles beside you, and your hand finds itself atop her head in an appreciative gesture for her setting the table up.

"Really?" Nanako leans in next. "Did you use to go on dates with Master Geto? What was it like? Was he nervous?" Nanako can't imagine Master Geto being nervous, but the movie reel in her mind is unraveling, and she cannot stop herself. "Nervous?" You ponder the memory, the apples of your cheeks warming at her blatant curiosity. Geto Suguru, nervous? Even as teenagers, Suguru had always been someone you could rely on. It was rare to see him flustered or caught off-guard. The men and women who'd glance his way as you walked with him, the girls who would shyly sneak photos and giggle, or the braver ones who'd come up to him to ask what school he was from — he was never nervous about rejecting them or politely declining their compliments.

Mimiko leans in and you're between your daughters as they peek up at you. With your chin in between your pointer and thumb and nose turned up in the air with your closed eyes, Suguru wonders what you'd been discussing before he returned. "I'm home." This hideout was not the home he wanted for any of you. He envisioned a better life, a home with a big yard and less concrete. It was in no way ugly, but Suguru wishes he was more free to roam. Despite Gojo Satoru's refusal to take him and you to your execution, it did not mean there weren't other nuisances that'd jump at the chance to set this home on fire.

The twins gasp, greeting him with a smile while you remain in your pose with your brows furrowed deeply. "Master Geto, welcome back!" he brushes his hand over Nanako and Mimiko's heads, palm lingering on their nape with a fond smile as he makes his way to the dining table. "Dinner is almost done, Master Geto. Mr (L/N) has already prepared your bath," your eyes are open now but there's now a frown on your face as you gaze at the ceiling. "(Y/N)?" his brow creases at the lack of reply. “Darling? What are you thinking about?” Suguru’s palm places itself on your shoulder as if on instinct your body leans into his embrace. His gojo-gesa has the scent of cigarettes and of the outside world but you don’t mind cleaning up with him so you let him squeeze you closer.

“Sweetheart?”

“The girls were asking if I’ve ever seen you nervous before when we were teenagers,” you mumble absentmindedly, “I’m just thinking. I can’t recall any...”

You drop your hand and instead turn to face Suguru. He looks tired but his smile keeps it at bay. You can’t believe it’s been 10 years since you’ve been Suguru’s husband. But the proof is in front of you; on his face.

Suguru was undeniably handsome. That hadn't changed. His skin was still supple, not yet blotchy or spotted with age spots; his hair had a few streaks of grey but they blended in so seamlessly with his inky locks. No, no - it’s his eyes mostly. That violet colour that bleeds from his pupil, makes the hazel around it much more bright. But there is not much youth left in it, not like when the two of you were still sorcerers instead of curse-users. The fat under his eyes and the slightly darkened skin tone was a reward for all the nights he spent awake, the slight sunken cheeks that he never really filled out were there too.

All the things that were the same and all the things that were new about Suguru made your heart flutter.

“You’ve always been so sure of yourself, Suguru. It’s a bit annoying saying it out loud,” his smile widens and a quiet chuckle follows it. “You’re just jealous, I recall you stuttering and blushing when you confessed to us about how much you really liked us.”

Us.

Mimiko and Nanako tilt their heads.

“Us?”

Second-year students. The expectations of your father, the expectations of sorcerer society on Satoru. Dowry sent, marriage proposal lingering in the air. Your heart is prepared to be devastated by the yes or no you’ve received because in truth you did not want Gojo Satoru - not like this and not just him.

You wanted - no, you loved the two of them. There was no denying they loved each other, the shy glances and magnetic forcefield around them constantly made them to be touching each other was proof. But they did the same to you too and you felt like you were going crazy just thinking of the way Satoru spoonfed you ice cream or how Suguru pressed you to his front when a curse nearly grabbed you.

Before a yes or no could ruin you, you’d told the two of them to head to your dorm. You would spill your guts to them with honour and pride.

You didn’t.

You tried. But as you held the metaphorical blade to your stomach your eyes welled with tears and you began to weep. Satoru was on your right and Suguru was on your left. Their hands were over your back and on your knees and their warmth and scent just made you sob.

“I love you, Satoru, Suguru. I love you both. I think - I think I really do, and I can’t...I don’t...I feel like I’m going insane.”

Suguru’s next smile came with less enthusiasm. You say nothing as he squeezes you in closer, the sleeve of his robe hiding most of you from view and that deep blue shines under the dining room light; shines true and blue and your heart aches.

Suguru says he’ll wash up with you now and the girls know better than to pry when their father gets this way. He’s never rude about it, in fact, it’s obscenely polite how he just removes himself from the room to do one thing or the other. Some topics he wishes not to talk about but the girls know what “us” means.

“He was my best friend. My one and only.”

“Gojo Satoru? He was...he was my everything.”

The shower had been mostly silent. Which you thought was not out of the blue. The spray of water and the echoing of it all, well, it made people sink into their own thoughts and you secretly appreciated Suguru for allowing you to do the same. You pumped some soap into the silicone scrubber and began washing his back.

There was a scar on his shoulder from Togetta - his spear-wielding curse - and on his side, there was another scar from Frederick, his dragon. They were more or less faded but you were careful as you touched them. Suguru hums when you rinse him off but stills when you wrap your arms around him and stroke the scar on his chest.

“...Does it still hurt?” he can feel your cheeks moving as they’re smushed to his shoulder. “Sometimes,” he whispers. You trace over it and curse that ape of a man. Curse him to hell and whatever it is he believed in.

Then you wonder if Satoru has scars too.

Your eyes sting and you pull away from Suguru. The heaviness of your thoughts lifts away from him, and he sighs through his nose.

The bath is warm and it makes your tense muscles unbind. Suguru insisted you lay between his legs and you only obliged after a few kisses and promises of your favourite snacks.

His arms are firmly around you and they trace shapes into your thighs, you watch him despite the soapy water and blurred vision.

“Cocks aren’t quite pretty when they’re all limp, huh?” Suguru is caught off-guard by your words, his eyes split open and he stares at you like you’ve grown horns.

“Excuse me?”

You jerk your chin to the thing between your legs.

“Looks like the sea cucumber 'Toru was swinging around at the beach.” Suguru bursts out in laughter, his chest rising and falling as he hangs his head on your shoulder, hiding his face as he peeks at the thing between your legs.

"It's pretty," he chuckles out.

"Liar," you reply. Suguru's nimble fingers trace your thighs and he wraps them around your dick, your breath hitches but your eyes do not flutter close. Tendrils of his hair slip past his ear and tickle your neck but you're not like Satoru — your neck is not ticklish and Suguru presses a kiss there as he pumps his fist. "It's pretty," he affirms with a delicious twist of his wrist, his thumb pressing onto the tip of your cock with just the right of pressure that makes you chew on your lower lip. "It's perfect, (nickname). A perfect cock that I love, that's twitching in my hand, sweet and warm, and when I stroke here." Suguru dips his thumb below the mushroom tip of your dick, slipping it down to your base where his deft fingers squeeze, pulling his fist up and wrapping his palm around your head and it has your breath stuttering. "My precious boy sounds so sweet." "The girls," you whisper out, blushing as the water jostles at his actions. "They've made you dinner, S'guru, they're — ah! — they're waiting," you hold his wrist and he noses under your jaw, sucking your skin and you inhale sharply. "You're so hard." "S'guru..." "You're so close." "Su — fuck!" His shoulder cushions your head, chest arching upwards as he continues his actions without shame. He braces your twitching thighs open with his other hand and you're at his mercy as he unravels you. "Su — Su — nghah —" "Yes, (nickname)?" he coos at you. Your eyes narrow but they roll back as you feel your balls tighten, heat coiling in your stomach like a serpent. Covering your mouth, you breathe through your nose as your ass lifts from the tub and Suguru whistles in admiration, watching the rope of cum shoot out, landing in the water and on the rim of the tub. When you fall back, Suguru's cock presses on your back. He pulls your hand away and claims your lips, brows pinching at the taste of heaven. Sucking on your tongue, nipping at your lips, it leaves you dizzy. "The girls," he says suddenly as he pulls away from the kiss. You pant, lips wet with spit. A breath, then two, before you shakily nod. "They're waiting..."

Dinner was thankfully still warm by the time Suguru and you had finished your bath. The girls share a knowing look and you comfort yourself with the fact that they always share a look. A twin thing, Nanako told you. For your sanity, you decide it's best not to prod for more. Suguru asks them about their day. What they found, what they ate, asked if they needed anything at the end of the day whilst washing the dishes. He settles with them in the living room, pulling you into his side and the girls gather at his knees. Nanako places her head in your lap and Mimiko does the same to Suguru. Naturally, you reach for Nanako's hair and she allows it with a hum. You braid her hair as Mimiko and Suguru discuss the latest news of the show she was watching, of the rich non-sorcerer and the cursed spirit she set loose on him. "I think he thought the spam text he got was a divine sign," she scoffs out. "I'm sure he'll be making an appointment with you soon, Master Geto." "A job well done, Mimiko." Nanako leans into your touch as you card your fingers through her hair, loosening up some of the braids, wary of her sensitive scalp. Suguru tilts his head as you reach for it, brow raised in question, and even more, as you take his hairband, his hair falling over his back once again. "Nanako, straighten your back a bit." The sight of you with his girls makes his heart swell. "There we go, not too tight, darling?" she shakes her head, pinching Mimiko's arm to ask for her camera. "You look so pretty, sis!"

"You look fine, sis," Megumi mutters, and Tsumiki's shoulders droop.

"'Gumi, you're not helping me," she huffs. "Red or blue?" Megumi doesn't think it matters. So long as the mittens kept her hands warm, why would the colour of it matter? Even without speaking, his thoughts are written on his face, so Tsumiki turns to Satoru instead. "Mr Sa — Mr Satoru?" She blinks rapidly. It's hard to lose the tall man. His snow-white hair, the gauze wrapping his eyes, the obnoxious voice that cackles and giggles with glee — Megumi can sense his cursed energy but not being able to see him does make the boy straighten his back. "Ah, your father," the sales assistant walks up to them, holding a tray of mittens. This time the colours ranged from black, pink, purple, and yellow. She points her thumb in the direction of the store's entrance. "He said he had to take a call, he told you two to stay here while you wait. We've prepared some hot chocolate for you — you two don't have any allergies, do you?" Tsumiki answers their question, a bit flustered at the news while Megumi stares at the door. Their car is still outside, no longer idling and with the cafes around here he's sure Satoru had asked the driver to wait elsewhere too. He wonders where he's gone. Did he sense a curse? Was it an important call? "...Whatever," he turns to the next tray. The chocolate drink was warm, comforting, and present. He just hoped whatever got Satoru's attention didn't take too long. Satoru's footsteps halt in front of the restaurant. Some barbeque place that'd make the scent of grilled meat, cheap beer, and smoke stick to your clothes. He enters, bowing a bit to avoid bumping his head on the doorframe. The server perks up at the sight of him but his eyes zero in on you. Leaning on the threshold of one of their private rooms, just behind the server's shoulder. You're dressed in a turtleneck sweater, the colour making your skin look like a dream. When your eyes lock in, he has to stop himself from returning the smile you give him. "Don't worry about it," he tells the server as he walks past him and straight into the room. He takes off his shoes, clenching and unclenching his hands into fists for a moment before he slides the doors open. "Satoru, you came." Suguru is dressed in a turtleneck as well, his hair tied up in a half-up half-down hairdo, his stubborn bangs still framing his face. You're sat next to him, pouring some drinks into a cup. "Of course he would, Su-Su. Don't sound so surprised," your words aren't meant to be mocking but Satoru's jaw clenches anyways. "He's our husband after all," you meet his eyes again and the grin on your face is so sincere Satoru feels like he'd been slapped in the face with guilt. "Husband?" He slid the doors closed, ignoring the two cursed spirits that were in the corner of the room. "You two must miss me a lot to use that title again, the last time — " "The last time, you claimed we weren't," you snap. Suguru squeezes your knee under the table. The last time, the three of you had gotten into a fight. It was the usual. He pleads for the two of you to come back, you plead for him to join your cause, and Suguru tells you that Satoru won't which will light a fire in you that neither can extinguish.

"Forgive me for stating the obvious fact that husbands should share a home together," Satoru sits across from the both of you and although your words are harsh, you move to sit next to him. "We have a home that we can share," you wrap your arms around him and Satoru's arms pull you in closer. "You just won't come home, Toru. Come home."

It pains him to hear you say this again. His home had always been the two of you. It hurts him that he can only meet his husbands in secret as if it is something to be ashamed of. But what other option did you give him? "(Y/N)," Suguru calls out. You frown but you drop it in favour of kissing Satoru. He likes kissing you. The arms around your waist tighten and he groans into the kiss. Suguru watches the two of you over the rim of his cup. He watches as Satoru slips his hands up your sweater and shivers from his cold touch. "Sa — Toru — " he ignores you, parting from the kiss to instead latch his glossy lips to your now exposed nipples. He ignores the grip you have on his shoulders, the wriggling of your torso and simply pulling you in closer.

"Impatient as ever, Satoru." Suguru places his cup down just as Satoru pushes the side dishes away from the table to place you there. This room was one without a grill, thankfully, and the cooked meat would be sent to the room instead.

Satoru ignores Suguru as well, intently marking you up. The low table digs uncomfortably in the back of your thighs as Satoru's weight on you makes you breathless. Suguru reaches out, grabs a fistful of Satoru's hair, and forces him to look at him.

"Satoru. You're being mean." Suguru tilts his head down and it makes Satoru's dick fill up in his pants.

"Not without any prompting," he defends as he surges up. Their noses bump into each other and without a second to waste, Satoru claims Suguru's lips with a righteousness that makes Suguru smile.

You watch as their lips press together, licking yours as Suguru makes Satoru groan when he tightens his hold on his hair once again. It is still the strongest sorcerer in his spot. Akin to a kitten being grabbed by his scruff. Except Satoru isn't a defenseless kitten now, is he?

He's a mysterious beast that belongs in prophecies and myths. A white dragon with shimmering scales that shone in every colour like opal under the sun. His teeth are so large and dark, his maw harbors Death within it. But not for his husbands, no.

For his husbands, this mighty dragon's maw is a source of pleasure. Satoru gulps thickly as your tongue traces the hill of his throat. Your mouth latching onto his neck like a lamprey, all teeth as you mottle his skin. His poor husband, his darling beloved, his (Y/N); you must've missed him.

That's the only way he can rationalize your need to pull down his scarf, tossing it aside as you reach beneath the layers of his jacket and shirt to feel his naked skin. Suguru moans out your name between the kissing when Satoru whispers it to him, his eyes fluttering open as Suguru unravels the bandages around his eyes.

"Husband," you call out, teasingly nipping at Satoru's chin as you sit up properly. Suguru kisses the crown of your head, pressing a kiss to your nape as his warm hands squeeze at your clothed thighs. Heaven looks your way and it relishes in the way your pupils dilate.

It's proof this love is real. Forgive him for doubting you, but he misses you so badly, (Y/N). He wants his husband's home, so his bed is never cold.

He envies the both of you. Not knowing how large your bed feels even when the both of you hold onto each other because that's how awful love is; it lacerates deeply into your skin, going past the layers until all you do is bleed. The cruelest thing is, that it requires to be stitched up and tended to but refuses anything other than the one you desire the most.

When fate is in the way of that, all you can do is bleed and hurt.

It's not that you're not enough for Suguru or Suguru is not enough for you. It's that the both of you have cut each other so deeply, not being together only ever leaves all three of you aching.

Incomplete. Jagged. Cracked. Flawed.

But when the both of them have their lips on you? When their large hands grope and caress you as if you were the only medicine they needed? When your name rolls off their tongues and they beg for you to allow them to please you?

"Satoru, Suguru." Your husbands lean in. Suguru on your left, from behind you, answers your call with a deep hum that makes your cheeks warm. On your right, Satoru presses a kiss to your jaw, an airy 'yeah, baby?' coming from him that makes Suguru pry your thighs apart.

"I missed you."

They understand what you mean. They understand what you need.

The curses keep the door closed, staring aimlessly like statues. Unbothered by the sight before them.

The side dishes that had fallen are staining the flooring but Satoru will be sure to leave a hefty tip for the restaurant to turn a blind eye towards it. The more pressing matter is the way you're being bounced in front of him.

He's panting, eyes trained on the hands gripping onto the mounds of your ass. It kneads and pulls it apart, deliberately showing him the way you're clenched around Suguru's dick. How easily you take him in and how with every drag down, you squeeze around him so deliciously it makes Suguru's balls tighten.

You toss your head back, moaning out wantonly as Suguru sucks his teeth. Satoru presses his palms to your waist and you grin loosely as he tilts your head further back just so he can kiss you. With how uncoordinated the position is, it's a bit messy but it makes your dick strain against Suguru's stomach.

"Think you're ready for me too, my beloved?" Satoru murmurs, relishing in the way you're gazing up at him. "Why do you need to ask such silly questions," you whine.

"I was made to take the both of you."

Suguru chuckles, giving you a thrust that has you hiccuping in pleasure. "Such a dutiful husband, aren't you?" Satoru teases, reaching forward to cup your chest in his hands and palming at your nipples.

"Of course he is, Satoru," Suguru replies with a smooth tone of voice. "He's ours. He's perfection. Like he said, made just for us."

You preen under their words and touches. Overwhelmed with want as your hands pull away from Suguru's neck and reach for Satoru's biceps.

"Stop toying with me. Fill me, completely," you ignore the way your heart aches at the way Satoru is gazing at you. "Fill me until I can only think of pleasure."

"What man says no to such a sweet command," his kiss on your shoulder simply makes the heartache stronger. You wish this could be forever. Not just monthly romps that get spaced out between arguments of disapproval or busy schedules.

Satoru doesn't deserve that. Suguru and you don't deserve that.

It's the damn world that's at fault. That man with that freakish scar, the higher-ups who recruit children to fight their battles. Who placed the weight of the world onto your shoulders and shoved you into the battlefield. It's a graveyard and the longer you stay on it, burdened by responsibility that no child should carry, the more prominent the name on the headstones becomes. That school, the generation that comes after you, do they know the halls are tombs?

Why should children fight for the weak?

Why should older sorcerers use children as vessels to prolong their existence?

Why can't the world just allow you to live in peace?

These scars are engraved in your body and heart. They should not be there. But they are anyway and it's the reason you gaze down at white sheets with disdain.

Riko, Amanai, Haibara.

Satoru...

Flashes of him bled out and dead on the stones of Tokyo High make you rigid. Satoru is talking to you, but his voice sounds like a distant echo. Suguru cups your cheek and you squeeze your eyes closed.

"Please, I only want to feel you." Your tears darken your lashes and Suguru shares a look with Satoru. They speak without words and you can hear their mute conversation without even stealing a glance.

"I just need to feel you."

Suguru lifts you and you cry out in despair so he kisses you to assure you. "Just changing your position, my love. Here, I know you miss this rude man."

You're facing Satoru now and you can see that pinkish scar on his forehead, his neck having a stark star-like scar, when your hands grip the top of his thighs; you can feel the rise of ripped skin. Everyone assumes he never got hurt, much less has such an array of scars, but you and Suguru know better.

Suguru squeezes your waist and he tucks his head to your neck. His chin balances on your shoulder as his lashes brush along your skin. Satoru is silent as you comb his bangs away, your thumb brushing over his scar. "Does it ever hurt?" You ask. He brings the tip of your fingers to his lips. "Never. Nothing but a blemish."

Suguru scoffs, the scar across his chest bumping into the one on your back. If you close your eyes, you can probably hear the sound of friction your skin creates. Satoru smirks at Suguru, taking your finger into his mouth. His teeth press down on your joint and you giggle at the silliness.

His dexterous tongue is more cheeky in its endeavors. Purposefully, he closes his lips around the digit, sucking lightly and letting his tongue remind you of those nights he spent languid hours between your legs in Suguru's dorm room.

"You're perverted," you pant out. "You love me," Satoru mumbles. "Fortunately for you, we do," Suguru muses.

Satoru pulls your finger out, leaning in to kiss you. Your lips part as his tongue slithers inside, stealing your breath and soul. Greedily, Suguru twists your face and separates the both of you, the string of saliva breaking as you gasp into his mouth next.

Satoru isn't heartbroken. The sight is heaven and he imprints it into his brain. Reaching down, Satoru carefully lifts your hips and you quickly get the hint. He lets you go, grabbing onto his cock and lining it up with your entrance that's craving for him.

Suguru watches you while your eyes roll. Satoru inhales, eyebrow twinging at the heat that wraps around him.

"I missed this hole, my perfect little hole," he groans out. Obsessed with the way you stretch out around him, clenching and unclenching as he eases you down on his cock.

"Good boy," Suguru whispers to you, his hands grasping your cock and stroking you. "You're almost halfway down. That's it, baby."

"Suguru," he calls out. Nodding, Suguru presses a kiss to your shoulder, grabbing his own dick to press his head to your hole. Satoru spits into his palm, rolling it over your tip which makes you keen.

"Uh-uh. Loosen up, (Y/N). Easy, baby." Satoru 'scolds'. You hang your head down, panting as you feel Suguru nudging into you. Your empty hands reach to hold onto Suguru's knees. "Such a good boy. I'm almost inside, shhh, it's alright. You can do it, baby. I know you can."

Satoru laughs breathlessly as he feels Suguru's length rub against his, biting down on his lip at the sensation. You're whining at the stretch and Satoru shushes you, stroking your cock in just the right way that makes both of your husbands moan when you tighten around them.

"Fuuuck," Suguru's open-mouthed breathing on your nape coupled with the sight of Satoru's head tossed back makes you feel bold enough to allow gravity to help you the rest of the way down.

The loud 'plap' sound that echoes when you drop down makes Satoru and Suguru choke out your name. You're gasping, lips loosely pulled in a grin; completely proud of yourself.

"I'm the pervert?" Satoru groans out. "As if yuh - you can take two big cocks up yours," you retort. "The both of you are insane," Suguru concludes.

It's a symphony of movement and noise. As Suguru thrusts out, Satoru thrusts in; that sweet bundle of nerves never getting a moment of reprieve. The sheen of sweat that glimmers on your skin makes you cold, so you reach for them and they press closer. Sandwiching you between their bodies.

Their mouths mottle what skin they can reach. Their teeth taint your flesh. Satoru is bruising your mouth while Suguru's hands are leaving prints all over your hips and Satoru's waist.

It's Satoru that proposes new positions. Clearly pent-up as he takes you in any way he can. Cushioning your back as Suguru fucks you from above, scratching the back of your thighs as he holds your legs open for Suguru.

His mouth takes you in while Suguru laps up their cum from your hole. The sounds you make together are absolutely obscene. The low table has you pinned on it more than once, toppling over as Suguru teasingly rips you away and Satoru gives chase.

It's fun. It's passionate. It's love in its filthiest form.

The laughter, the moans, the pleading, the tears, the cum, the sweat.

By the end of it?

The room is a mess. Your thighs are twitching as Suguru sweetly brushes your hair away from your face, encouraging Satoru to pump another load into you with that saccharine-sweet voice of his.

"Aw, that's it, Satoru. You're doing so well, making our (Y/N) feel so good, yeah? You feel good, baby?"

You whimper, cock weakly twitching on your stomach in a pool of its own wetness. Each thrust makes it spurt more and Satoru is rabid as he watches. Suguru chuckles, kissing you again and Satoru groans as he thrusts as deeply as he can inside of you to paint your insides white.

"S'toru," you shakily moan. Giving one last pathetic dribble of pearls.

"What a good boy, the both of you," Suguru laughs as Satoru barely catches himself from falling completely on top of you. Satoru kisses Suguru back, groaning as he does and you moan as you feel his dick twitch inside of you.

"We can't," Suguru whispers. "One more time, please," Satoru pleads. "We can't," you pant out.

His jaw sets. When he pulls out, you shudder as their cum trails out. Satoru stares at the floor, panting while Suguru summons the curses to come closer. One holds out a bowl of warm water while the other has a cloth.

"Don't," Suguru mutters, "Don't bring it up, Satoru."

He sniffles, the act derisive, and stands up. You watch him, the haze you're in quickly dissipating at the anger in his eyes.

"You could come home —"

"Satoru," you plead.

"No! You could! Come home, so this won't end!"

Your body — that was all limp and relaxed — tenses. Suguru narrows his eyes at Satoru as he cleans you up, wiping away what he can. The action feels bittersweet. As if this meeting of passion was something to be ashamed of when it shouldn't be. You had the right to wear their love with pride but yet...

Here you are.

"Why can't you just come home?" Satoru's shoulders drop, defeated. Like that day Suguru and you announced your decision to betray Sorcerer Society by becoming Curse Users.

"There's room for you." You lean against Suguru as he helps you to sit. "Satoru, please. You know we want nothing more than — "

"(Y/N)," Suguru's voice is curt and his tone icy. You frown at him, shaking your head as you turn to face your Satoru.

"If you could only just, just see what we do —"

"Kill civilians? Scam them out of their money?" He scoffs. Satoru reaches for his discarded clothes and snatches the towel Suguru's curse spirit offers to wipe himself down.

"They deserved what they got!" Your argument is met with a reproachful glare. Suguru warns Satoru with a glance and it simply fuels his ire.

"My daughter is a non-sorcerer. Does she deserve death too?" "Our daughter's only crime was that they were sorcerers! Those villagers, you didn't see what they did."

"Don't start," Satoru growls. He's pulling on his shirt, and his pants. "What else could we have done?" You growl out.

Satoru turns to you, spreading his arms out in a display of annoyance.

"Called me! Called Shoko! Several other choices could have been made at that moment instead of massacring and burning down the entire village!"

"That's enough."

"And let the higher-ups enroll the girls into the school? Let them die like you did? Like Haibara!?"

"That's enough!"

Suguru's yell causes the both of you to flinch. His violet eyes are set in a glare and his usually curled lips are now downturned. He is not angry but the disappointment is clear. It's aimed at both of you.

"Let's not end this date on a sour note. It's late. We should go home."

"Suguru," it would amuse him how Satoru and you call out to him in unison and it does. It reminds him of those days when you'd be clinging onto his back while Satoru pokes his side, begging for him to do whatever it is your mischief wishes for him to. Shoko only fuelling the fire to see him groan and roll his eyes.

But this time, it causes him heartache.

"We love each other. We don't need to be screaming at each other like this."

It's dark out by the time Satoru walks back into the store. The workers greet him with enthusiasm, sheepishly showing him how Tsumiki is taking a nap in the employee's break room — which is decidedly now as fancy as the rest of the store — and Megumi giving him a hard glare.

"Was it an emergency?" He mutters. Satoru nods, walking to Tsumiki and gently nudging her awake.

"It better have been. We waited for hours."

"They gave us...hot cocoa though," Satoru grins at her yawning expression, patting her head. "Sorry for the wait, c'mon. Let's go home, yeah?"

He can't fathom what sin Tsumiki had committed against humanity. Being born without a sorcerer, being born weak, was that really a grave enough sin for her to be killed?

Tsumiki yawns once more and when Satoru extends a hand for her to take, she squeezes assuringly.

Megumi doesn't take his other but Satoru smoothly slips it into his pocket as they head to the cashier to pay for their designer mittens and whatever else they added into their cart.

Satoru glances out into the street, frowning as he sees you and Suguru passing by.

The way you glance at Tsumiki and Megumi...

Satoru loves you and Suguru more than he can express but there was no way in hell he was going to let you hurt his kids.

He tells you this without words and in a split second your eyes meet.

You relay the same information back as two girls rush to your side. Satoru only sees their hands and the slightest sliver of dark and blonde heads of hair before you disappear from sight.

"Are you okay, Mr Satoru?" Tsumiki asks, still rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

"I'm fine, sweetheart. It's just a little chilly."

"Emerge from darkness, blacker than darkness. Purify that which is impure."

"Did you miss this?" Suguru chuckles at your words. "The courtyard of our beloved school? Surprisingly, not. Though the memories are sweet."

The veil around you draws your eyes upwards. Spinning on the tips of your toes, you twirl along the sloped tiles of the school, if only to make Suguru laugh.

"Once we kill Okkotsu Yuuta and take Rika, you'll use Divine Flame and burn everything down. I'm sure your father will appreciate your prowess."

He holds you as you drape yourself across his front, kissing you back when you connect your lips together.

"It'll be a battle of lovers," you muse. "I'll look forward to seeing you in battle, (Y/N). It's been a while since you've had the chance to give it your all." Suguru presses another kiss to your lips, earning a giggle from you.

"That Cursed Corpse is Yaga's, isn't he?" He nods against you. "The non-sorcerer is yours to defeat. I'll burn that plushie to ash."

"You're ruthless," he purrs. "You love it," you reply.

"The world we longed for. Is here before my eyes!" Suguru exclaims from beside you, his eyes filling with tears that make yours do the same.

"It's a shame, Okkotsu." You sigh out, straightening your back as you grin at his wide eyes. "Killing you wasn't in our initial plans."

"Come, Rika!"

The sight of her makes your grin stretch from ear to ear. Suguru and you stand your ground, your palms warming up as excitement brews within you. That ideal you've fought for, the world where no sorcerer shall ever know fear or pain; it's just a reach away.

The only thing standing between you is Okkotsu Yuuta and his rabid lover. Once she was Suguru's? You expect nothing more than cowardice from those higher-ups.

"I'll keep her away from you," you tell him as you roll your shoulders. Watching as Yuuta slices through the storm of Suguru's curses with his sword. "You focus on him." The ground beneath you is blackened, spindly legs and antennas emerge just as Yuuta lands on the lamp post. His gaze on you is nothing short of murderous.

"It seems like he'll make this worthwhile, Su-Su."

"I expect nothing less. Stay sharp, my love."

You nod, your breath coming out in dark flames as you prepare to ensure your daughters will no longer know the injustice they were born into.

The fight is fast. The four of you are in that tight space of the corridors. Rika growls and snarls as she slices at you while you keep her away from Suguru and Yuuta. She's furious, screeching for you to get away while you use your flames as a barrier. The heat causes sweat to bead down Yuuta's temple and Suguru laughs at him.

"My husband's impressive, isn't he?"

"Shut up!" His sword comes into contact with Playful Cloud. When it shatters, your victory is so close now that both of you can taste it.

Suguru shielded you from what he can, but it's a vain effort. You're draped on his back, breath coming out in shallow inhales and exhales.

"S...s'guru." He hmms in acknowledgment, leaning against the wall as he tries to catch his breath. "It was a glorious fight," you whisper. "It was, my love. It was..."

His knees buckle, so you tighten your grip on him and he assures you he's alright. Suguru hears footsteps and without even looking at him, he knows that Satoru has arrived.

"Late as usual," Suguru teases.

Satoru lifts you from Suguru's back, carrying you in his arms as Suguru slides down the wall, resting on his haunches as he stares up at Satoru.

You're in bad shape. Just like he was. Your back is nearly charred, your right hand gone and bloodied. Satoru's jaw sets as your eyes flutter open, his brows tightening as you whisper his name.

"You're here, 'Toru."

He crouches down, setting you on Suguru's lap. He balances you out, nuzzling into your face as your hand reaches to grab what you can. The rings on your fingers, glimmering under the setting sun, cause Satoru to kneel before you.

"Of course, I am, my beloved." When he holds your face, it's gentle and sweet.

It's unfair how the last time he held both of you ended in an argument, the last time you talked was when Suguru announced war.

He leans in, kissing your bloodied lips and doing the same to Suguru.

One last time, it doesn't quite register in your mind that this would be the last time you'd see your Satoru and Suguru. Your daughters, oh your poor daughters.

"...Are there any last words you'd like to say?"

Suguru chuckles while you sigh, eyelids growing heavy as your lungs breathe out black smoke. You're warm. Too warm. Suguru clutches you closer, every breath he feels on his skin feels like a grain of sand falling.

"At least, curse us a little at the end," Suguru chuckles out. "Satoru, Suguru...I," your whisper fades off.

Your head grows heavier and Suguru glances down at you, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"(Y/N)...(Y/N)...? Beloved — " You feel Suguru dig his nails into your sides and Satoru's hand on your face.

Then it goes dark.

"There's something different about him," Maki mumbles as she motions to Satoru. Yuuta, Inumaki, and Panda turn to watch him. Classes had finished a long while ago, it went along like it usually did. Satoru was his exuberant self — with awful explanations that raise more questions than it does answers.

"Really?" Panda scratches his ears, "He seems like his usual self."

"Well, he does seem a bit more quiet lately," Yuta mumbles. Inumaki nods, voicing his agreement.

"What are you kids doing here? It's late." The students flinch, surprised at the sight of Shoko as she emerged from the goddamn shadows. "Dinners getting cold. Go ahead."

As they rush off, Shoko meanders her way towards Satoru. He's sat in that obnoxious chair, head tilted up at the ceiling as his hands toy with the matching rings in his pockets.

She settles next to him, leaning to stare at the ceiling as well.

"You can't keep him a secret forever." Shoko sighs. "Why didn't you exorcise him?"

"His wounds were already too great, I didn't..."

The ceiling is an ever-shifting mirror, a distorted mess of flames and eyes as you groan. Your form isn't quite there yet, knowing just when it's best to hide away and keep away from the eyes of other sorcerers.

What else did Satoru expect from his husband? An intelligent Cursed Spirit, tied loyally to his side.

"When they find out?" Shoko inquires.

"I won't let them take him from me again."

[the-broken-truth]

Leaving The Web [Part 1] - Platonic Yandere Miguel O'Hara w/ Daughter Symbiote Spider Reader

Summary: As the eldest and only daughter of Miguel O'Hara, a member of the Spider-Society and host of the Venom Symbiote, you have experienced heartbreak from your father's neglect due to his work. Despite your understanding, his decision to leave your universe to raise another daughter was the final straw. You sought refuge in a universe where you don't exist and made it your new home. However, when your father's actions caused the collapse of that universe and the death of his alternate daughter, he realized the value of the daughter he already had - you. Unfortunately, he discovered that you were gone and has since gone to great lengths to find you.

[Earth-928]

Your eyes were filled with tears as you hugged your legs closer to your chest while you sat in your bed in the darkness of your room; your heartbeat irregular as you sobbed and your breathe was stuttering while you tried to calm down but this situation was too much for you to handle at the moment - a fifteen year old shouldn't be dealing with this at the moment or even at all - it was all the fault of your father.

Your name is [Name] O'Hara - Elderst & Only Daughter of the Leader of the Spider-Society, Miguel O'Hara - you are a member of the Spider-Society and you also just happened to be the Host of the Symbiote - Venom. You were bitten by a Radioactive Spider when you were five years old and started developing powers when you were around 8, the members of the Spider-Society aided you in understanding your powers but the one you wanted to help you was just ignoring you - Your Father, Miguel O'Hara. He was so consumed in his work - worried more about tracking Anolomies and dealing with the Spider-Verse rather than raising his daughter. Peter was more of a father to you than Miguel was but you still wanted him to accept the blood bond between the two of you so you worked as hard as you could for the Spider-Society to make your father recognize you but all your efforts were in vain.

At a particular mission, after you turned 15, you successfully captured an anomaly by yourself. With a smile on your face, you presented it to your father, but instead of acknowledging your achievement, he took the creature and left without a word. This left you in tears and looking down at the ground. Peter, noticing your distress, comforted you by placing his hand on your shoulder and giving you a hug, while Mayday patted your head.

One night, Miguel didn't home that night and you were concerned so you went back to the Spider-Society and went to look for him. When you arrived at his platform office with all the screens still active and got curious so you decided to take a look at the screens and what you saw was completely heartbreaking: He was spying on another version of himself - one that had a daughter - but was killed while trying to save someone's purse but was gunned down. Miguel had traveled to the universe and replaced the dead version of himself and according to the log: "I'm going to raise his daughter as my own, one that I can be proud of rather than a burden who was forced on me.". Your heart broke as you left out of the Spider-Society before webbing all the way back home, going into your room, and crying.

"[Name]."

'What is it, Venom? I don't want to talk about it.' You sobbed as your lifted your head from your hands and wiped the tears from your water-soaked eyes before placing your hands back around your legs.

"You need to talk about it. I understand that you are upset but you need to move on. Miguel O'Hara doesn't deserve you and it's time that you made a move to leave him and the Spider-Society. I was looking at the computer while you were reading his log - the best way to live in another universe without it collapsing is to find a universe where a version of you never existed. We need to get the things we need and find a place where we don't exist and make that place our new home. We can protect it and never have to worry about the Spider-Society." Venom explained. You blinked and listened to the Symbiote before nodding and getting out of bed and collecting everything you needed from the money you've been collecting from birthdays and some clothes before burning your personal documents so you never existed in this world.

After putting on your backpack, you headed back to the Spider-Society and made your way to Miguel's Research. There, you discovered a universe where neither you nor Venom existed: Earth-564B. Using the Go-Home Machine, you set a course for this new universe and stood on the platform as the White Spider Machine enveloped you in a webbed dome, teleporting you to your destination. As you traveled through the Time Tunnel, you couldn't help but feel excited about your new home. The portal opened on top of a building in bustling New York City at night. You quickly ran off the building and began swinging through the city, keeping an ear out for any trouble. However, before doing anything else, you needed to obtain new documents.

[One Month Later - Afer The Universe Collasped]

Miguel returned to the Spider-Society after the world he had been living him collapsed and the people were gone, including the daughter he took was his own. He walked out of the total with tears in his eyes before he looked around and was that he was alone in the Spider-Society, he jumped up to his platform and looked at the image of him and the daughter he took that was now gone - looking at her, she looked just like his daughter - the one he abandoned - [Name]. He looked at his desk and noticed something - A Bracelet - [Name's] Bracelet. He picked it up and looked around, she was here, she knew he left her bracelet there. Did she find out why he had left?

"Lyla! Where is [Name]?" Miguel asked his A.I. Assistant who materialized over his shoulder and looked rather upset.

"She's not here, anymore. She found a location where she and Venom didn't exist and decided to take that universe as her home." Lyla explained, causing him to look at his assistant with wide red eyes.

"What do you mean she left?! Where has she gone?! Why would she leave?!" Miguel asked Lyla.

"Are you serious, Miguel? You're seriously wondering why she left you and decided to go to another universe to make a home for herself?! You ABANDONED HER, MIGUEL!!! YOU CALLED HER A BURDEN AND TRIED TO TRADE HER FOR A ANOTHER VERSION OF HER AFTER THAT FATHER WAS GONE AND YOU CAUSED A UNIVERSAL COLLAPSE BECAUSE OF YOUR GREED! SHE WAS SICK OF BEING IGNORED AND NEGLECTED BY HER FATHER!!!" Lyla yelled at Miguel before fading away, leaving the man alone as she looked at his daughter's bracelet in his hand. His daughter was gone and it was his fault. He was going to find her and make everything right at first, he needed to find out what universe she went to.

[vendetta-if]

What if Ash, from the alternate universe (where MC died), had met them in the same way as the alternate Victor did? And if MC and original Ash are a couple?

I very much hope that I have written this clearly, for it is not my language🙃

Unfortunately, it would just make the Ash from the AU where MC died become more depressed. Similar to the Viktor scenario, they would see what could have been.

Seeing MC and the Vendetta AU Ash getting together… It made them realize that they could’ve had a chance to be with the person they love and care the most, they could’ve been happy, they could’ve had everything they could’ve wished for.

But no… That killer took all of that away that night ten years ago.

I like to picture the AU Ash pops up and meets MC, and MC just thought that they’re their Ash. Imagine AU Ash’s surprise upon meeting a grown-up MC and not only that, MC greeting them with a peck on the lips and a hug. It feels like a dream, but this grown-up MC in front of them looks different from the one they conjure up in their head, but yet, undeniably MC. They know MC like the back of their own hand.

They barely understand what MC is talking to them about; most of the names they spoke of are not familiar to them, but still, they keep up the pretence, nodding and smiling. And then, MC hugs them again before walking off to do something.

They have half the heart to reach out and stop them… and what? What would they even say to this version of MC? So, they stay back, sticking to the shadows and make themself as inconspicuous as possible so other people who might know them won’t talk to them.

They can’t help but tail MC the whole day. And then, of course, they see their alternate self meet with MC. They look so happy, with a wide grin on their face, cheeks ruddy, probably because of MC.

Is it even possible to be envious of your own self? Because that’s what they’re feeling right now. But also, they are happy for them. At least their alternate self seems to be capable enough to protect MC and they look to be so in love with each other.

Their heart twinges in their chest as they look at the couple from afar. It’s painful, of course, but they redirect that pain into anger at the person who took this from them.

A couple of hours after their alternate self once again left MC to do something, you finally gather enough courage to approach them again. MC looks surprised.

“Ash! What’s wrong?” MC asks, confused.

“N—Nothing,” Ash answers, glancing up to meet MC’s eyes. “I… I just want to tell you something.”

“You could’ve told me over the phone, you know? No need to come all the way here,” they smile, and your heart skips a beat. It’s still the same smile it was a decade ago.

“I guess this is important enough to say in person,” Ash mumbles shyly.

“Okay, what is it?”

Ash steps closer and leans in. “MC… I love you… I always have and I always will,” they whisper, mere inches from MC’s face.

Before MC can answer, they lean in and press a kiss on their lips. It feels like you’re floating right now. But then, what comes up must come down, and pulling away, you’re once again reminded of what you can’t have.

“And… I also want to say I’m sorry…” Ash says quietly.

“For what?” MC asks in confusion, eyes filled with concern.

“Everything, I guess,” they sigh. They’ve always thought that if only they were there that night, maybe they could’ve helped protect MC—or at least die in their place.

“Ash…? Are you okay? You’re kind of scaring me right now,” they frown, bringing their hand to your forehead as if to check your temperature.

It makes you smile sadly. “I’m not and I don’t know if I will ever be,” you answer honestly before shaking your head. “You know what? Forget everything I said, I don’t know what’s gotten into me.” You rub the back of your neck. “Goodbye, MC… I’ll see you again in my dreams.”

Ash turns around and quickly runs away, not looking back no matter how much their heart wants to stay. They hear MC calling out to them, but they don’t stop. This is not where they belong and they have no right to be ruining whatever their alternate self and MC are having here.

They don’t know where they’re going, but they keep running. They just want to get away from here as far as possible.

Please, God or whoever’s listening… Just throw them back to the shitty universe they know before they do something they’ll regret.