#big thanks to my friend that recommended it to me sorry it took me like four years to get around to it

[eggoatt]

paprika is the only movie i've ever seen to make me look at a Human Woman and go "so that's her fursona, right?"

[bizbat]

your jason todd hcs are sooooo good omg!!! do you have any hcs specifically for when he has a crush on the reader, like how he might act, specifically if the reader is oblivious and really doesn’t think that she’s his type / thinks he’s joking if he says anything flirty?

When They're In Love - Jason Todd (Crush Edition)

🕸️Spiderverse Masterlist🕸️

🐼JJK Masterlist🐼

~ Fem terms + Pet names used for reader.

~ You can find part one of these hcs here, and part two here.

~ You can find more of my works here.

~ These can be read as a sort of part three/prequel kinda.

~Fic at the end.

~ Tw for : Blood, Knives, Needles, Vomit. (All slight)

~Thank you for asking! Hope you enjoy, sorry this took so long :(

You would never know that Jason has a crush on you.

For the most part, he wont talk to you any differently than he will anyone else.

Maybe he won't jokingly insult you, or be super sarcastic around you, but I think that's kind of as far as he'd go.

Unless you're a close friend or family member, you'd probably have no clue he had a crush based on the way he talks to you.

But the little actions and things he does for you are so obvious.

He's the type to hold open doors for you, all the while staring other people dead in the eye as it shuts in their face.

He somehow always just "randomly" has your favorite snack on hand, or a whole collection of books by your favorite author.

I think he'd be touchy, unless he knows you don't like being touched.

If you like or don't mind it, he'd have his arm constantly thrown over your shoulder, always be leaning against you, always resting a hand on your hip.

If you're shorter than him, he does that super annoying thing where he rests his elbow on your head.

He is so lame omg.

But bc he's kinda like this with everyone, no one would fault you for not understanding his hints.

He's like the opposite though.

You said hi to him this morning? You must be in love with him.

You smiled at him today instead of Dick? He's already planning the wedding.

What's that? You said he smells nice? Have his babies. (If you can/want to)

Our delusional king.

He doesn't think you don't get his flirting.

He'd think you're fully aware and are flirting back.

Again, our delusional king.

You probably won't get it until something really serious happens and he comes to you instead of Bruce or Roy.

He'd probably try to get into things you're interested in.

Listens to all your favorite songs, reads your favorite books, etc.

And he's not subtle about it bc he is in fact, a loser.

He'll recommend a song by your favorite artist and then be like "idk why but this just reminded me of you lol"

LOSER. Can you guys tell i'm a big believer in the "jason todd is secretly a massive loser" agenda? Cuz I am. :|

And then he listens when you go on rambles about how great the things you like are and how much they mean to you.

I said he'll do things just to hear you talk about them, and I think he'd do that when he has a crush on you too.

He just loves your voice and likes hearing you talk.

He smiles at you so softly when he thinks you aren't looking.

You could be bumming out and he'll look at you with heart eyes like yeah, future spouse right there.

I don't think he'd be a big user of social media, but if you were, he'd get a whole account just to like and comment of your pictures.

user94820860038466 commented: You look very pretty in this picture.

Comments like an old man bc he has very little understanding of the internet.

He'd probably help you take pictures and fight with other people in your comment section if they're too down bad or creepy.

He doesn't strike me as the jealous type bc once again, he's so delusional he pretty much already thinks you're dating.

Nicknames nicknames nicknames.

Calls you so, so many nicknames.

Angel, doll, sweetheart, maybe even babe.

He constantly talks about you when you aren't there.

Lian and Roy know so much about you before they even meet you.

He'd do anything for you.

The store is actually about a mile in the other direction, but yeah he can get you your favorite drink.

He does not like that food at all and the owner of the store despises him, but he will not return to you empty handed best believe.

He was actually going to wear that hoodie today, but it looks so much better on you you should keep it!

~ Drabble Starts Here. ~

It's just like every other night in Gotham City. It's cold, and wet, and it smells like smoke and garbage that's been left out in the sun.

The only barrier between you and the chilled, musty air outside is a single sheet of glass; the fire escape window of your fifth floor apartment. It's comforting. The glass is, of course, bulletproof, and the seal around the sill is tight, so no gases ever manage seep in. It pays to have a decent landlord, especially in Gotham.

It's funny, but you really never think about that window. You mostly keep it shut and locked, except in the summer, when you can smell your neighbor in the building next door cooking all types of delicious aromatic dishes, or when it's just too hot and you decide the risk of heatstroke is greater than the risk of airborne psychosis. It never occurs to you just how well it keeps you safe, just how well it keeps things out.

It occurs to Jason, though. In fact, it's the only thing on his mind as he's gripping his side, frantically trying to prevent too much blood from seeping out of his body.

He'll probably chastise himself later for not being more gentle or respectful, but he's lost too much blood to be thinking straight. With his free hand, he bangs on your window, praying that you're A) at home, and B) not listening to music. He's not too worried about the first one, he knows you never leave your lights on when you're away, but the second one, he's not too sure about.

He bangs, and bangs, and bangs on the glass, a loud, thunk thunk thunk thunk thunk that immediately rouses your from your sleep. You jump up from your spot on the couch, an open book falling from your lap as you dart into your room to grab the knife Jay gave you for protection, before returning to your living room, keeping your back to the wall.

You hold the blade in front of you, nervously gripping the hilt as you listen to the banging, making sure to stay just out of sight as you cautiously creep closer and closer to the noise. It isn't until the banging dies down that you finally get close enough to see the cause.

You gasp at the sight, dropping the knife and trying to tug the window open, before mentally yelling at yourself to unlock it. You drag the weakened behemoth of a man into your apartment, carefully placing his upper body on the floor in front of your window and removing his helmet. Your hand moves to his side, firmly pressing down on his wound, as you stare at him, mouth agape and eyes flooding with concern.

He laughs, a dry chuckle that just sounds like it hurts. "What took ya' doll?" You wanna smack him, but you can do that when he's not bleeding all over your hardwood floors. You tell him to wait, as if he could go anywhere in the state he's in, before rushing to grab the emergency kit he forced you to keep.

"Let-ngh- let me do it." He groans as he attempts to sit up, trying and failing to pull the tweezers from your hand. He doesn't even have the strength to sit back up when you gently push him back down. You clean his wound, all while he holds back winces and groans. You don't hold back, focusing on cutting and cleaning and stitching and wrapping, berating Jason for coming to you of all people.

"What d'ya mean? Of course I'd come to you?" Jason manages between harsh breaths. "Who else would I go to?" He seems genuinely confused, you're his girlfriend, you always come to him when you need help. Why wouldn't he come to you?

"Oh, I don't know, Jason, maybe Bruce, or Roy, or literally anyone else with training to handle this kind of thing!?" It comes out mean, but through his pain he can tell it's coming from a place of true care. You're worried. One of the strongest, most skilled people you know is bleeding out on your floor and you're panicking. Of course you are, you've never had to sew someone up, or dig a bullet out of someone, or try to hold down bile from the heavy smell of blood.

Your hands are shaking like crazy. This isn't a slight graze you can put a bandaid over and seal with a kiss, this is a life threatening wound on someone you care about, and all they've been doing since they came to you is make stupid fucking jokes and try to take things from your hands.

Jason can tell it's getting to you.

It should be the other way around, what with him bleeding out in your living room, but he quiets down, gripping your wrist with his non-blood covered hand. "Hey," He gently strokes your skin with his thumb, repeating himself when you don't move your eyes from his wound. "Hey, look at me Y/n." It's just stern enough to make you obey, without sounding like he's mad at you. "It'll be okay. I'm in good hands." Jason smiles at you, tired and reassuring. It calms your nerves just enough for you to finish sewing his wound shut.

You sit back when you're done, taking in your work once you wrap his stomach with gauze. Jason turns just enough to catch a glimpse, smiling up at you with his stupid, charming smirk. "Not bad, doll. Told ya you had it covered." He lays back, smiling up at you as he lays his head on his arm, the one on his non-injured side. Though he doesn't seem to bothered by the end of it all, you can't say the same.

He takes in your features, your tired, glossy eyes and your pouting lips. It makes his smile drop. You look away, your sad eyes not meeting his own. "I . . . what? What's wrong Y/n?" Jason winces, moving to rest on his elbows to get a better look at your face. "Was it the blood? Or the- was it the window? I'm sorry about that, by the way." You shake your head no at all of his suggestions, taking a breath before turning back to face him.

He can feel his heart hurt at the sight of unshed tears in your eyes. "I . . . I was scared Jay." He pushes himself all the way up when you take your lip into your mouth. He ignores the pain shooting through his side when he pulls you into his arms. "Hey, hey, hey, scared of what? I'm okay. You did good." Those tears finally spill when your arms wrap around his waist, loose as to not further irritate his wound.

"You could've died Jay, a-and I wouldn't be able to-to help you! I can't help you!" You sob into his shoulder. He holds you tightly, pressing his lips to your head as he rubs your back. "Please, please don't cry. I'm okay now, you helped me. I'm all better now." He rocks you both gently, trying to console you. "Sides, if I was gonna die, I'd be happy if it was with my girl."

What?

You freeze in his arms, and he knows he said something wrong. He just doesn't know what. His brain moves a mile a minute as he tries to figure out what it was before you get even more upset. Though, his brain completely shuts down when you stare up at him with those cute, confused eyes. The tears have slowed down, and he's at least thankful for that. "Your . . . girl?" Now he's confused too. "What-what do you mean by that?"

He has to do a double take. "What do you mean? You're my girl, like . . . girlfriend, you know?" Every second that passes only confuses the two of you more. "I'm your girlfriend?" "Ar-aren't you?" You blink at him. Were you? Are you? "Am I?" Somewhere there was cognitive dissonance, Jason just doesn't know for who. "Yeah, we're dating, I thought?" Though, he doesn't feel so confident about that now.

"Oh," You feel your ears grow warm, for the second time now your eyes don't meet his own. "I . . . I didn't know that." You wish you could hide right now, but he's still got his arms wrapped around you. "I mean, unless you don't want to, then-then I'm sorry-" Jason feels maybe even more embarrassed than you as he finally drops his arms, grabbing his helmet and moving to crawl back out the window he came in through. His bullet wound is completely forgotten by now.

He stops when you grip his jacket, shyly staring at the floor as you speak. "No! I w-want to." Your eyes darty up to his, before losing confidence and dropping back to the floor. "I want to be your girlfriend," It comes out a whisper, and when he's silent for a beat too long you worry he's suddenly changed his mind.

"Good. Great. Yeah." He drops back to the floor, sitting cross legged beside you. Internally, he's doing backflips in his mind. "Cool." Later on, he'll ask more questions, but for now, he's satisfied. "Yeah." You shyly play with your clothes, twiddling your thumbs as you sit in silence. You feel like a little girl who just admitted to her crush that she likes him. "Are you-" "I didn't-" You interrupt each other, both of you gesturing for the other to continue. It's a bit of a fight, but Jason makes you go first.

"I was gonna ask if you were hungry. I have some, um, pretzels and stuff. If you want." Jason nods. He follows you into your kitchen, where the two of you quietly and contently eat the iron rich foods you looked up. "What were you going to say, by the way?"

Jason looks up from his plate, the haphazardly prepared meal helping him feel better, though his heart feels pretty good right now anyways. "I didn't know that you didn't know. I thought," he laughs nervously. "I thought, we were dating this whole time." He laughs again when you shake your head. "I didn't know! I thought . . . I don't know, that I wasn't your type, or something."

That's probably the most surprising thing he's heard you say today. Okay it's not, but it's the thing that most catches him off guard.

"Of course you are! You're so sweet, and cute, and nice, and pretty, and you smell really good, and you're funny, and I like your voice, and the way you d-do things . . . and . . . other stuff." Jason stops himself before he can ramble for hours about every single things he loves about you. You wouldn't mind if he did, though. You hide your pleased expression with your hand.

"Me too." It's quiet, but no longer shy. "I like all that "stuff" about you too."

[angelltheninth]

What Happens in the Chair

Pairing: Minhyeok x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, masturbation, getting caught, watching porn together, friends to lovers, confession, mutual masturbation, blowjob, fingering, clit stimulation

Word count: 1.1k

A/N: When I found out about the chair my brain went haywire.

It was a little dark in his room, the only light coming from the computer screen, and most of the noises too. Sure you often felt bad about watching porn on Minhyeok's computer as much as you did but he never complained, not about that. It seemed a waste not to take advantage of alone time when you had it. So you kept your eyes glued to the screen and your fingers in your pussy and failed to hear the door to his room open.

"The fu- uh- oh. Oh!" You turned to see your neighbor standing at the doorway with his eyes moving from you, to the porn playing on the screen, to the hand between your legs. "I fucking you were the reason my chair was always wet. So this is what you get up to when I'm away." He smirked as he closed the door behind him.

"I... this isn't... I meant it is but... ah fuck... I'm sorry I'll go. And I'll buy you a new chair this time." You scrambled to click away from the porn still playing on the screen, but in your embarrassment you couldn't focus.

"Are you close?" He asked while very casually cupped his cock through his pants.

Did you hear that right? "Am I close? To an orgasm?"

"Yeah. I've been interrupted before, I know it feels like shit. I don't mind if you keep going. You're forgetting I use this computer too, the stuff you watch comes up in my recommendations, I know what you fuck yourself to." You could make out the outline of his hard cock straining in his pants, wanting to be free and pleasured.

You were thankful for the dim lighting covering the heat you felt in your face, but it didn't cover up the sloshing sounds of your fingers pushing in and out of your pussy. "Do you want to... do it together?" You never thought you'd be so horny to ask your neighbor to masturbate with you.

"I was hoping you'd ask. Go ahead and hit play." The moans and dirty talk started up again. You tried to ignore the sounds of Minhyeok's clothes being taken off but you couldn't ignore him when his cock was right next to your face.

He didn't make any moves on you, he didn't comment, he stroked himself at the same pace as you fingered your pussy. It was oddly enjoyable to be watched.

You watched him too, his hand going all the way down to his balls, the white pre gathering at the tip, "Wanna taste me?" He urged by pushing a bit closer, right into your open mouth. The salty, tangy taste made you whimper louder than the porn actress.

"Is it okay?" You licked around the tip while looking up at him and spreading your legs fully to the either side of the chair so he could see your hand moving more clearly. "I can't do it like in the videos but I hope that you-"

"Perfect." He conformed with a slow thrust back and forth. "Your mouth feels perfect. Much better than my hand." He pulled his shirt up, revealing his hard abs. You never took the time to look at him like that, your pussy clenched around your fingers in immediate response. "Been working out lately. You like guys who look like that right? They're in all the porn you watch so I thought if I looked like that... you might look my way too."

Your eyes met his dark brown, almost black ones, begging for this not to ruin your friendship. A little late for that, you already had his cock in your mouth, he was watching you fingering yourself, you already saw so much of each other. You took a deep breath, relaxed your throat and took his whole cock down your throat, showing no sign of stopping.

"Can I touch you?" He asked with a shaky voice and waited for you to hum in response. One hand grabbed the back of his chair, the other cupped your breast and rolled the soft mound in his big palm. Were his hands always so nice? "So soft. And your nipple, it's poking against my palm. Y-You're... you feel amazing baby. Can I call you baby?"

You moaned around his cock, your wrist started to hurt from movement. Just a bit more. "You can call me anything you want handsome."

He couldn't help the laughter, "I have some ideas. I never knew you had such a degradation kink." Oh fuck, he saw those too. Minhyeok, calling you a whore, a slut, a fuckdoll, a toy, a warm hole for cocks, you heard it in your head. You weren't even paying attention to the porn anymore, it didn't matter because he was making you orgasm right now, he was looking at you while you fucked yourself silly and sucked his cock hard, gagged on his cock. "Close your eyes, I'm gonna give your face a cumshot... you cumslut."

You came around your fingers just in time for him to pull out, letting your moans go uninterrupted as he jacked off over your face, painting it white with his cum. You opened your mouth wide and stuck your tongue out so he could use it to wipe the last of the cum off his tip.

Deep, tired breaths mixed together as the orgasms washed over you. Minhyeok's own legs were a little wobbly as he reached for the box of tissues next to his computer. He used one on himself and handed you the other.

"Thank you." You wiped his cum off first, "Sorry about your chair. I made it wet again." He gave you another wipe for your thighs but leaned in when you wanted to grab it. Staring you down he sucked your wet fingers in his mouth and playfully flicked your clit while you were distracted, "Minhyeok!"

"Hm? I didn't do anything baby." The term of endearment caused butterflies in your stomach. Fuck. This wasn't just... he was serious about you.

"If you meant what you said about making me look your way, could we go out sometime?" It was rare that you were the one who asked but he was obviously too much of a silent pining type.

"Sure! I mean yes! When you're free, I'd love to go out with you." He was so shy all of a sudden and you loved that it had nothing to do with his soft cock still hanging out for you to see. "And from now on you don't have to try and hide the porn you watch here." Well you were doing a bad job of it in the first place so that was a huge relief. You never guessed you be walking out no longer single after a masturbation session, bit weird things seem to happen to you all the time.

At least this one was good.

[queerpumpkinnn]

is this how u request? anyways! i was wondering if u could do like a spencer reid w like a girl best friend, but like he has feelings for her

she does all these little things for him like bring him coffee and food and let him ramble and stuff

i was thinking of writing it myself but id love to see someone else’s take <3

This is typically how people send in requests (either via inbox or comments) so you're good! So sorry this took so long to write, my inspiration was down for a long time. I had so much fun writing this, thank you for sending it in!

Loverboy

1.6k words

Summary: Spencer's got a big fat crush on his best friend.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!bestfriend!reader

Warnings: Morgan makes a few innuendos, food/drink, feelings ew gross, sweet lovesick Spencer <3 as always, let me know if I missed something!

While reading, I recommend you listen to valentine's day - a Spotify playlist by me!

~

Everyone in the office that morning knew that it was far too early to be there. Spencer, more than most, relied heavily on the power of caffeine to get his day going. It was not uncommon for folks to be carrying around a mug even in the late hours of the night.

And as always you, like a gift from God, would always saunter through the meeting room door with two steaming cups of coffee and a weary smile.

Spencer adored you. Although everyone on the team had a place in his heart, you were always the one closest to him. You were the one who had taken the time to get to know him, who listened to anything he had to say and got to know him as more than a coworker, an agent, a "resident genius" like he was some kind of appliance.

It was rocky at first, no doubt. Spencer was not the most perceptive when it came to reading social cues (or giving them to others), so his stiff and awkward nature took a while to see past. Eventually, you managed to break down the walls of caution around him, and over the span of a few years the two of you became more accustomed to being around each other more than anyone else. Even though you spent practically days together at a time, the two of you found solace in each other's presence, often heading back to someone's apartment and ordering takeout to wind down after the case with a movie.

To Spencer's embarrassment and yours, it had become the group's joke to refer to you two as The Soulmates. The first time Morgan made the joke, Spencer's entire face went a deep shade of red and he couldn't look at anything other than his feet for the rest of the hour. Eventually the two of you became accustomed to the running joke, brushing it off with a sarcastic laugh and roll of the eyes.

To be fair, Morgan wasn't entirely wrong. The two of you were joined at the hip, but you were just friends. It saddened Spencer to think about it sometimes, really. But he was content with having you so close, to be able to work with you and come home with you. To get to bring each other coffee and let you rest your head on his shoulder when you fell asleep was a closeness he granted to few people, and so he was, for the most part, satisfied with having you as you did.

That morning was no different. The sun had just barely risen, and Spencer was stifling a yawn as sugar poured into his cup like water. This morning was odd- a thought had struck him in the car, a comment Prentiss had made saying you and him were like a married couple. Was that true? Spencer knew plenty of married people but he didn't see them in action very often.

Would you even want to marry him? No, Spencer thought. You were just his friend. Sure, you did all sorts of favors for him and hugged him, but that was surely just a mark of close friendship.

"Morning, pretty boy." Morgan came up beside him, bringing a mug down from the shelf.

"Morning." Spencer replied, sipping from his coffee.

"So have you proposed yet?"

Spencer nearly choked on his coffee, replying with a "what?!" once he stopped spluttering that might have been a tad bit too incredulous.

"Jesus, Reid, I was kidding." Morgan held his hands up, but he still wore an amused grin.

""We're just friends, Morgan." Spencer said defensively, moving to prepare another cup.

"You're making her morning coffee right now, pretty boy. You know who does that?" Morgan gestured his mug in Spencer's direction. "Married couples."

Spencer rolled his eyes. "Yeah, and coworkers."

"Keep tellin' yourself that, Reid." Morgan gave him a pat on the shoulder, sauntering back over to his desk with his free hand in his pocket.

Spencer heaved a relieved sigh, taking both cups over towards your desk. You beamed at him when the smell hit your nose.

"Well thank you, Spencer." You squeezed his wrist affectionately, and Spencer thought he might die. He turned his head to hide the stupid smile on his face, mumbling a "welcome", but the other direction didn't help him much. Morgan's desk shared a divider wall with yours, so the man in question simply raised his brow, a knowing smirk surely hidden behind his coffee cup.

Spencer rolled his eyes, turning back towards you. Your head was tilted in concern. "You alright, Spencer? You seem a bit jittery."

To strangers, Spencer might always seem jittery, like a nervous cat. But you could tell the difference.

Spencer cleared his throat. "I'm alright. Too much coffee, maybe."

Spencer nearly slapped himself when he realized his mug was still full. He prayed you didn't notice, tilting the rim so you couldn't see its contents.

"Alright kidlets, let's get this party started." Garcia called from the meeting room door, a stack of envelopes tucked under her arm.

You pushed off from your chair, nudging Spencer's shoulder. "Let's get this party started," you chuckled.

Spencer lightly touched his arm where you'd nudged him, watching you make your way across the office.

"Let's get this party started, Loverboy," Morgan, seemingly coming from nowhere, rubbed his shoulder against Spencer's dramatically, voice risen in pitch.

"Shut up!" Spencer pushed the man off of him, but couldn't help the laugh that came with it.

. . .

Four days later the team was right back where it started, making coffee and wrapping up paperwork- only this time there was a silent agreement that everyone wanted to get home.

Even in these low-energy moments Spencer still stayed by you, sitting with his legs folded on the large table nearest your desk, scribbling away.

His head perked up when he heard your chair wheeling over to him. "So, yours or mine?"

Spencer tried to ignore the way your arms folded over his knee to rest your chin atop them. "Uh- I was actually hoping yours?"

He definitely liked your place better than his. As much as he wanted to make it home, his apartment really was just a place for him to sleep at night and keep all of his stuff. Your apartment reminded him of you- but he wouldn't admit that that's the real reason he preferred your apartment to his.

You hummed. "Chinese?"

"Sounds good." Spencer was actually in a mood for Indian cuisine, but when you suggested Chinese it suddenly sounded like the best idea ever.

Work passed by fast, something that could rarely be said about Spencer's job. He was just excited to be going home, he told himself, even though he was headed to yours after this.

Although Spencer had to admit, your apartment was practically his. You both had a few items belonging to the other that you always forgot to take back. Spencer even had a travel toothbrush that sat in the cup on your sink. He knew where all your dishes were, knew your DVD collection by heart. He never lingered at the doorway like he might do at a new friend's place, he kicked his shoes off and made himself at home, because really, he was.

Tonight was no different. Spencer was sprawled out on your couch, half-empty foam box of chow mein sitting on the coffee table, and you under his arm. When you'd made yourself comfortable next to him, Spencer felt butterflies in his stomach, he thought. It was a marvel to him, hearing a phrase like that so often but not knowing what it really meant until now.

The time was nearing one in the morning, and while Spencer was still engrossed in whatever film you'd picked out this time, you were fast asleep, head heavy on his chest.

Spencer glanced over at you, smiling softly to himself.

"You know, you're not making this any easier for me." Spencer whispered, stroking your arm. "I mean, I'm not complaining, you know, but it's kind of hard to suppress a crush when you're falling asleep on me."

Spencer knew you couldn't hear him, which is why he felt a breath of relief leave him when the words came out. He attempted, with slow and careful movements, to adjust you to sleep on the couch. Spencer thanked whatever god might be out there that you'd purchased a sleep-worthy couch- he knew, he'd tested it personally.

"Good night," Spencer murmured, pressing a quick kiss to your hairline and giving you one last glance from the doorway.

Maybe someday.

. . .

It was mornings like these that tested Spencer's willpower.

It had not even been six hours since he'd left your home that he was being called in on another case. So here he was. Five days later, doing the exact same thing: making two cups of coffee.

But as always, you made it better.

"Spencer!"

He didn't have to turn to know who was calling him, but he did anyways, just to look at you. "Sleep well?"

"Yeah, I had a pretty nice pillow," you teased, and Spencer's ears turned red. "Hey, are you free Saturday?"

"Yeah, if Hotch doesn't call us in at the crack of dawn." Spencer snorts.

"Great. There's an art exhibit I wanted to see and it wouldn't be as boring if I went alone." You grinned, gratefully taking the mug he offered you.

"Can't imagine a better way to spend a Saturday." Spencer agreed.

"It's a date then."

Spencer's eyes went as wide as saucers at your response, mouth falling open a little. You giggled at his reaction.

"C'mon, Hotch is waiting." You turned, not waiting for a reply.

Spencer shook his head as if to clear it, a stupid grin plastered across his face as he trailed behind you.

It's a date.

~

Spencer Reid Masterlist

Criminal Minds Masterlist

Main Masterlist

[gejo333]

A Misunderstanding- Epilogue

Father Miguel O’Hara x Mother Spider Reader

Pt. 1

Art credit: I couldn’t find the artist. Please lmk if you know who it is.

Note: Not the full photo.

Summary: Little moments during your 9 months of pregnancy waiting for your little bundle of joy. And this time, with Miguel.

Hope you enjoy this chapter. I’m sorry I got it you you guys so late. But I hope it’s a sweet ending to this story.

I apologize for any grammatical mistakes I missed

Enjoy💕

Wc: 6.1k

____________________________________________

Month 3

The small cracks and imperfections on the ceiling have become memorized as you lay on your bed feeling miserable for the hundredth time this month. Ever since you found out you were pregnant about a month ago, you have had a serious case of morning sickness.

You've been critically bored since your OB/GYN recommended bed rest during your morning sickness. And knowing Miguel, he followed the doctor's recommendation exactly, making you stay in bed or couch most of the day.

"Here, mi amor." Miguel handed you a plate of chicken nuggets and green beans. Ever since you cooked Mateo chicken nuggets weeks ago and tried one, it's the only thing you haven't thrown up. Your nose scrunches up at the site of the green beans. One thing you hated, or the baby hated, was vegetables during your morning sickness.

"You need to eat something healthy. Just please eat some of them." Miguel pleaded with you as he sat down next to you on the bed and continued working. He's been staying home most of the time to handle household duties and Mateo.

"Well, it's your baby that's making me not like them. But thank you for the food." You pout as you eat your food. Miguel chuckled at your comment as he looked at a mission report.

After you forced yourself to eat the green beans, which from Miguel's perspective was a comical sight as you made a face every time you took a bite. But half an hour later, as you leaned against Miguel for comfort as he wrapped an arm around your waist, you felt a sudden surge of nausea. But instead of rushing to the bathroom, you sat there, not needing to vomit, as your eyes grew wide in shock.

"Oh my god, I think my morning sickness is improving." You cheer as you look at Miguel with a big smile. He turns to you with the same smile as he kisses your forehead. "I'm glad to hear that, cariño."

"Now I don't have to be on constant bed rest! Finally! Maybe I can even go back to work? Not for missions, of course, cause I know that would practically give you a heart attack if I did. But at least doing some desk work?" You are pleased with Miguel. One good thing about dating the leader of Spider Society was that you didn't have to worry about missing work. But the downside, too, is that he's the leader.

"Alright, fine. Of course, I miss you at HQ, but you know why I stress about you being pregnant in such a dangerous environment." Miguel looked at you as his eyebrows furrowed and a pout on his face. He was worried for you and the baby. And you understood where he was coming from.

You cup the side of his face as you gently brush your thumb across his cheek to ease his worries.

"I know I'll be safe since you will be there to protect me. And you built Spider Society from the ground up. You know it's safe."

"But what if an anomaly broke out and hurt you both. I'll never forgive myself." Miguel continued to worry.

"Miggy, I'll be fine. I'm Spiderwoman too. Plus, if Jess can be pregnant and still do her full job, I can do mine too." Your words finally reassured him as he smiled down at you and kissed your lips lovingly. You get up from the bed to Miguel's disappointment as he wants to continue holding you in his arms. But his disappointment was quickly replaced with joy as he saw your small baby bump as you walked into the bathroom to get ready.

Today was the day that you and Miguel would reveal that you were pregnant to your friends at Spider Society and later in the day with your family.

Miguel, in his own way, was excited about the reveal to your family. But he was slightly annoyed to tell the teenage spiders and the others. Like, tell Jess. But making a thing out of it. It was 100% your idea. But since he loves you and you were his world, he didn't mind the cheesy pregnancy reveal.

The two of you went through the portal after you both were ready as you walked to Miguel's office. As you entered, you saw Jessica watching the monitors with the rest of the gang, Peter B. MayDay, Hobie, Pavitr, Ben, and Gwen.

"Y/n! We missed you! Where have you been?" Said Pavitr as he jumped down from the platform. He was helping to look at the monitors before he came to you for a hug. You happily returned the hug, ensuring he didn't feel the baby bump.

"I've been busy with some things in my universe. So I wasn't able to come to HQ this past month." You say.

"Will you be coming back?" Asked Gwen as she also came up to give you a hug. Ever since you've been back to hq since being back with Miguel, you have become a big sister/mother figure to the teenage spiders.

"I am." A big smile appeared on your face; you couldn't fight the urge to hide the surprise. Miguel saw the look on your face and chuckled, a small smile appearing as he wrapped an arm around your waist and brought you to his side.

"Wow, something must be up if a boss man is smiling like that." Hobie chuckled, noticing the change of demeanor between the two of you. You look up at Miguel as you smile up at him. He smiled at you and gestured towards the group of curious spiders with a slight move of his head.

"Hey Peter, I'm so sorry we missed Mayday's 1st birthday, two weeks ago. Here's a gift for her." You say as you hold out a spider gift bag. Peter walked over with the adorable Mayday in his arms, who was babbling to herself.

"Aw, that was sweet of you. Thank you for the gift. Look, Mayday Auntie Y/n and Uncle Miguel got you a gift." Peter said the last sentence in his baby voice as he opened the bag for her. He grabbed an adorable spider kitty stuffed animal, which made Mayday squeal in excitement. Peter handed her the stuffed animal, and she hugged it.

"I'm glad she loves it. There is actually one more gift in there for her. It's a surprise." You smile as Peter searches through the bag to find the other gift. He drops the bag as he takes out a shirt for Mayday. He looks up at you and Miguel with a shocked and happy look.

"Oh my god! You guys!" Said Peter as he hugged the both of you.

"What's going on?" Asked Ben Reilly, who was speaking everyone else's mind. Peter turns around from hugging you and Miguel as he shows the shirt to the rest of the spider gang.

Printed in red and blue text with two iconic spider logos below the text.

Spider-Baby Duo!

"Omg! No way!" Gwen cheered as she jumped for joy and hugged you again. "Congratulations!"

"Another spider, baby! I can't wait to meet the little bundle!" Pavitr jumped for joy. Jess jumped down from the platform with a big smile on her face.

"Congrats, you two." Said Jess as she hugged you two.

"Thanks, everyone. We just wanted to tell you the reason for my recent absence. But I'm happy to return to work after my painful month of morning sickness." You smile from all the excitement as you glance up to see Miguel with a smile on his face enjoying it too.

You so badly wanted to tease him for showing he enjoyed telling your friends at Spider HQ. But you decided to tease him when you returned home to save him from the embarrassment of the other spiders teasing him. Though you would miss his ears and cheeks going red.

After talking and celebrating with everyone for a bit longer, you both had to return home to pick up Mateo. You wait with Miguel outside the school as you see the kindergarten class run out of the building. A familiar little curly-haired brunette with the most adorable face as he came running to you.

"Mama, you cane to pick me up!" Mateo hugged you as he jumped for joy to see you.

"Of course, sweetie. Mama feels well enough to drop you off and pick you up from school with Papa." You say as you hug your baby boy.

"Can you hold me, mama?" Mateo asked as he tried to jump into your arms. Miguel swooped in as he grabbed Mateo and lifted him into his arms.

"Wow there, papito. Remember, no roughhousing around Mama. She's caring your brother or sister in there. But I can carry you."

"Okay." Mateo pouted as he looked down at the ground, which hurt your heart. You look at Miguel as he looks back at you with a sigh knowing what you were asking of him.

"Come here, Mateo." You open your arms as Miguel hands him to you. It had been a while since you carried him, so you noticed the weight change.

"Yay!" Mateo smiled as he wrapped his arms around your neck and rested his head on your shoulder.

After getting to your new apartment, a penthouse in the same area as your old one, Miguel paid no expense to a lavish, not two, but six-bedroom and four-bath apartment. When Miguel originally told you about the listing, you thought it was too big for a family of four. But he said he wanted to buy a bigger place when you had more children. You lightly glared at him as you were already suffering from the current pregnancy. Of course, you didn't admit to him that you would want to have one or two more children. Two keep it an even number, of course.

When you found out you were pregnant, you both began to look at apartments. Of course, you had completely forgotten that Miguel's part-time job at Alchamex gave him very deep pockets. You insisted on paying as much as possible. Still, Miguel insisted on paying it himself, saying he wanted to give this to you and his children as a gift.

When you both finally agreed on a place, you moved in almost immediately, so you didn't have to worry about moving when the baby was born.

Two hours after you got home, you and Miguel made sure the house was ready for your family to come over, mainly your sister, her husband, kids, and your parents.

It was just your family as you and Miguel went to his universe to tell his brother Gabriel and mother Conchata the news. You had met them many times before, six years ago when you were dating Miguel. After Miguel moved in three months ago, you brought Mateo to visit his paternal grandmother and uncle, who adored him. Now you go at least twice a month to visit. Of course, the last time you went a week ago, you had revealed to them your pregnancy which they were both very happy about.

As you got your last earring on, you heard the doorbell ring. As you walked to the door, Mateo rushed by you. "Let me get it!" You chuckled as you saw him rush towards the door.

"Be careful, sweetie. Don't run." You smile as he opens the door revealing your sister, her family, and your parents.

"Hi!" Mateo half-yelled as he jumped up and down as his aunt and cousins walked in. Your niece and nephew run off with Mateo to his room to play, not before giving you a hug.

"Heyy! I've barely seen you this month! I've missed my little sister! Where's Miguel?" Nora walked in and gave you a hug.

"He's in the kitchen. He'll be-speak of the devil." You chuckle as he walks into the main family room as he walks to your side. "Hey, Nora, Luke." Miguel smiled.

"Do you guys want a drink? We have red, white, or something stronger." You offered.

"What are you having?" Asked Nora, which made you almost ruin the surprise, but you remembered the white grape soda juice that you bought from a winery a while back for Mateo. But you decided to use it tonight. Just to trick your sister and parents for a bit.

"Just a white wine. Hey, mom, dad. I've missed you." You hugged your parents. "Hi, sweetheart. It's good to see you." Said your father as he hugged you.

After settling down and catching up with everyone, you made sure the kids were in the living room with everyone else. Miguel grabbed two thin boxes and handed one to your mom and your sister.

"What is this?" Nora looked at the wrapped box with a confused smile on her face. You smiled wide. As you watch, your sister and mother open the tops of the boxes. Within a few seconds, you heard your mother gasp, and your sister scream in surprise.

"Omg! I'm going to be an aunt again! Congrats, you two!" Nora got up from her seat and hugged you.

"Congrats, sweetie." Your mother said as both she and your father also got up to congratulate you and Miguel. The kids all jumped excitedly to have another kid coming to the family to hang out and play with.

Month 4

You were in your fourth month of pregnancy, and despite it only being your fourth month, you felt like you were in your sixth for how big you felt. God, why did you have to have a baby daddy who could be characterized as a giant.

As you tried to put on one of your bras, you couldn't get the clasp to close. When you finally did get it clasped, your breasts were threatening to pop out, which, within seconds, they did. You groaned in frustration as you threw the bra on the ground.

Your damn breasts have gotten too big because of your pregnancy. You didn't think you would need to go to a maternity clothing store since when you were pregnant with Mateo, you didn't need to get maternity clothing. But guess every pregnancy is different.

You walked to Miguel's closet and grabbed one of his sweatshirts and a pair of your sweatpants. You glared at yourself in the mirror, not liking your lazy outfit choice.

Arms wrapped around your waist as large hands rested on your swollen belly. Your pout turned into a smile as you looked at your boyfriend through the mirror.

"What's wrong, Hermosa?" Miguel left kisses up

your neck to your cheek to help cheer you up.

"I don't fit into my clothes anymore because of this baby. My belly has gotten larger, my breasts too." You pout. You missed your curvy figure.

"I think you look beautiful, amor. And your breasts look like they were sculpted by god himself."

You turn to face him, and he keeps his arms around you and kisses you lovingly.

"How about I take you to buy some new outfits tomorrow?" You smiled at Miguel's kind gesture as you reached on your toes to kiss him. "That would be amazing. Thank you for offering."

Miguel fell on his knees, putting his hands on your belly as he smiled. You gently combed your fingers through his dark brown hair as you gazed at him lovingly and watched him whisper sweet things to your unborn child.

A tang of guilt etched into your heart as you didn't give Miguel the experience to do this when you were pregnant with Mateo. But you were happy to be able to give him the experience with both of your second children.

A gasp escaped your lips as you pressed your hand over Miguel's, as he looked up at you with concern. You look down at Miguel with a huge smile.

"It was the baby. I felt them move."

Month 5

It was a sunny day at the beach. You relaxed in your beach chair with a cup of lemonade in your hand as you enjoyed the sun's heat.

You take out your phone and choose a song from your playlist, resting it on your stomach for the baby to hear. The ocean view was gorgeous, but the site that caught your eye was Miguel with Mateo, who helped his son find shells and sea glass. It was a mission for you and the baby.

Mateo wanted to make something out of the shells and sea glass he would find on the beach. It made your heart glow as you saw Miguel bond with his son, holding the shells, rocks, and sea glass in his hands as he followed Mateo's lead.

After a few more minutes of watching them, you noticed them returning.

"Mamma, I collected so many pretty shells! Papa will show you! He was holding them for me while I collected them." Mateo ran over to you a few strides behind him, Miguel, who sat down in the chair next to you as he grabbed a container Mateo brought and put the shells and other pretty beach objects in there. He then passed it to Mateo to show you his favorite shells.

"Those look really pretty. I can't wait to see what you create with them!" You tell Mateo as you listen to story to each shell he shows you. You smile when you feel Miguel place a kiss on your cheek.

"How are you two doing?" He asked as he took your hand in his and kissed your knuckles.

"We're both doing good." You smile as you place the hand you held on your round belly. Suddenly both your eyes widened as you looked at each other with large smiles.

"Did they just?" Miguel smiled wide as he rested the palm of his hand on your belly.

"I know! They kicked! They only seem to do that when they can hear your voice. Guess we know who will be their favorite parent." You let out a chuckle as you watch Miguel move his hand on different places of your belly, where you would then find a light flutter in the area, which meant the baby was kicking.

"Come here, Mateo. Do you want to feel your younger sibling kick?" You ask your son as he gets up from his spot on the beach towel in excitement as he comes to you. You gently take his hand and place it on your stomach. As soon as you did, Mateo giggled as he felt the baby kick.

You were happy that your family was already getting love from your unborn baby. Still, you internally pouted as you felt left out. As if your youngest child read your mind, you felt them kick where your hand was placed as you whispered back to your round belly, "I love you too."

Month 6

Miguel was running errands all over the place for the gender reveal party. Though he thought it was a bit cheesy, you loved the idea of having one, so he ensured the party would be perfect.

He set the cake down on the dining room table. Half of it was blue, and the other half pink. Once the cake was cut, you would see if the cake was pink or blue.

You walked in with Mateo after picking him up from school. Miguel smiled when he saw you as he wrapped an arm around you and kissed your lips lovingly.

"Sorry I couldn't be there to pick up Mateo with you," Miguel said as he scanned his surroundings. The main living room was filled with pink and blue decorations. You gently touched his cheek and caressed his face, which he loved.

"You don't have to apologize for anything. You had errands to run for the party, which looks amazing. Thank you, Miggy." You lean up and kiss him again, which Miguel happily accepts.

"When do we find out?" Asked Mateo as he played with one of the balloons.

"When everyone arrives and is settled, we'll announce it." Says Miguel as you both chuckle at your son's excited attitude as he jumps around.

Another hour passed as you made sure all the snacks and drinks were out on the dining table when you heard the doorbell ring. Miguel kissed your cheek as he walked to the door and opened it revealing your spider friends in casual clothing holding baby gifts.

"Y/n! Oh my god, look at you. You're glowing!" Jess smiled as she hugged you. "Here you go. Something for the baby." She handed you a bag.

"Aww, thank you. Miguel and I can't wait to open it. If you are hungry or want a drink, there’s some snacks and champagne on the dining table. How's your baby boy?"

"He's doing good. Keeps me and hubby up late at night. But I still love him to bits despite the sleep deprivation." Jess chuckled as you walked over to the dining table to set down the gift with the others; you picked up a stork-shaped cookie. You picked up two cause your hunger this month has increased tenfold.

"These are cute." Said Gwen as she came up to you both and picked up one of the pinkish-blue cupcakes. "Thanks for inviting me, Pavitr, and Hobie. We can't wait to meet the baby! Oh here! This is a gift from all three of us. We hope you like it." She hands you the bag as you hug her in thanks before putting it on a table.

"I'm sure we'll love it." You smile lovingly at her. Those three teenage spiders were so adorable.

You let Gwen go back to mingle with Hobie, Pavitr, and Jess with your sister, who had arrived with your parents and her family not too long ago.

You were about to take a bite of one of the cookies when Miguel wrapped his arm around you from behind and pulled you against him as he grabbed your cookie and took a large bite out of it. Your jaw opened in shock before a pout was placed on your lips. "Hey, that was mine." You see him smirk as you take the rest of the cookie and take a bite out of it. Miguel chuckled as he kissed your cheek.

"I know. I just wanted to see that cute pout on your face, amor." You purse your lips into a smile as you playfully roll your eyes.

"Do you want to do the reveal?" Miguel smiled down at you. Your eyes brighten as you smile, starting to feel the excitement bubble up inside you; you nod.

"Hey, everyone! It's time!" You say in excitement as you try to stay calm but fail horribly. Miguel looks at your overjoyed attitude and smiles lovingly at you. You really were the light of his life.

Miguel grabs the plate and knife as you hold the knife with him. You both turn around and cut into the cake to make a slice. As soon as you lift it up, you smile brightly at Miguel as he looks down at you with the same happy expression. You both turned around and showed off the slice of cake to everyone.

It was pink.

Month 7

You took a deep breath as you sat down in a chair and placed a hand on your large belly. You tried to distract the feeling of your stomach tightening with the sounds of kids' laughter.

You opened your eyes to see your now six year old son running around with his friends at the arcade.

"Hey, are you okay?" Georgia touched your shoulder as she looked at you in concern.

"I-I'm fine. Just feeling some cramps." You give her a reassuring smile before you feel another stomach cramp. You grab your water bottle as you take a sip of water.

"Are you sure, y/n? Aren't you having contractions? I'm going to get Miguel." Georgia said as she was about to walk away before you grabbed her arm.

"It's Braxton hicks. I-I'm fine. I've had them before. If you tell M-Miguel, he'll take me to the hospital. It's Mateo's birthday. I don't want his special day ruined because the baby got in the way." Lauren approached you as you tried to convince Georgia not to get Miguel.

"The kids were asking when to cut the- y/n? Are you okay?" Lauren gazed at you with concern.

"Y-yep. It's Braxton hicks. No need to worry. They'll p-pass." You reassure Lauren as you try to stand up. It takes you a second, but you manage to stand up. "Let's cut the cake."

"Y/n, are you sure it's Braxton hicks? When I was pregnant with Simon, I went into early labor. But I thought it was only Braxton hicks. Maybe you should go to the hospital to be safe." Lauren gently guides you to Miguel despite your protests, but Lauren was more stubborn than her wife, Georgia.

She walks you over to Miguel, who is talking to a few other parents; his gaze turns to you when he notices you coming towards him. Miguel's smile was quickly replaced with a small frown as concern grew when he saw Lauren help you walk over.

"Is everything alright, cariño? Is it the baby?" Miguel brushed some of your hair behind your ear. You would explode if one more person asked you if you were alright.

"Y-yes. It's just Braxton hicks. I-I'm fine. Let's just cut the cake."

"How long have you been feeling this way?" You lightly glared at Miguel, knowing he would take you to the hospital no matter what you said. He sent you the same glare back.

"30 minutes." You tell him.

"How far apart are they?" You roll your eyes.

"Like 30 seconds. We're not-"

"I'm taking you to the hospital." Miguel gently placed his arm around your waist as he was about to lead you out.

"Miguel, no, we are not leaving our son's birthday. I'm fine. I can wait until after the party is over." You close your eyes, feeling another cramp. You sit down in a chair in protest.

"Amor, I'll carry you to the hospital if necessary," Miguel said as you both had a stare down. You take your phone as you call the doctor's office.

"To ease your worries, I'll call the doctor." Miguel nods, admitting defeat as you put the phone to your ear.

"Yep, Doctor says it's Braxton hicks." You say to Miguel. He holds out his hand, asking to talk to the doctor. You roll your eyes as you pass him the phone. After a few minutes, he hung up the phone as you arch your eyebrow.

"Yeah, alright. It's Braxton hicks. I wanted to see if you weren't lying just so I wouldn’t take you to the hospital." You smile at him in victory as he rolls his eyes playfully with a smile and kisses your cheek.

Miguel calls for the kids saying it's time for cake. Mateo sits with his friends at the table, jumping in his seat excitedly. You get your phone out and start a video as everyone sings happy birthday.

Tears brimmed the corners of your eyes as Mateo blew out the candles. You couldn't believe he was already six years old. You remember when he was just a baby sleeping in your arms.

"What did you wish for, Mateo?" Asked Simon, Mateo's best friend.

"I wished for my baby sister and me to get along. And I wish for a Nintendo Switch." Said Mateo, which made your heart glow. You felt as if an invisible weight was lifted off your shoulders. Mateo was excited to meet his baby sister.

You couldn't wait to meet her too.

Month 8

Your due date was in three weeks. In three weeks, there will be an infant in your home. It was a Friday night, and Mateo had a playdate/sleepover after school, so you didn't have to worry about picking him up until morning.

It was also a day when Miguel had to go into HQ to work, to his annoyance as he wanted to be home just in case the baby came early. You assured him you would be fine. Since he left, you have been in the nursery, ensuring everything was perfect before the baby came. You learned from one of your many pregnancy classes that what you were doing was called nesting. When you first learned about the term, you thought it was ridiculous. But now that it's happening to you, it wasn't so silly.

It was 1 am when Miguel got home. He expected you to be asleep in their bedroom, but when he noticed a light in the nursery, he went to check it out. And there you were, sorting through diapers, clothes, and other baby products. You were facing away from the door while folding baby clothes on the changing table.

You felt Miguel wrap his arms around you and place a kiss on your neck. But you barely noticed as your mind focused on ensuring you were ready for the baby's arrival.

"It's very late; you should head to bed." His words fell deaf to your ears. Miguel pouted as he turned your head and kissed your lips lovingly, which broke your trance.

"Oh, hi, Miggy. When did you get back?" You say as you go back to folding.

"A few minutes ago. Amor, how long have you been doing this?"

"When did you leave this morning?" You asked.

"Did you rest at all? Did you eat or drink anything?" Miguel asked, concerned for your well-being. You paused for a second, trying to remember what you did, but your mind went blank.

"I guess not." You say as you take the folded clothes and move to the set of drawers you put them away. Miguel follows you as he takes the clothes from your hands and puts them on top of the drawers.

"You need to rest."

"I will when I'm done." You gasp when Miguel picks you up bridal style and carries you to your shared bedroom. He then set you down gently on the bed.

" I love you, but sleep." He commanded as he kissed your cheek before getting ready for bed and getting into bed with you.

When the lights were off, and you thought Miguel was asleep, you carefully got up and out of bed and returned to the nursery. But of course, as soon as you walked into the nursery, Miguel was right behind you, giving you a small heart attack as he picked you up and returned you to bed.

This time when you both got into bed, he placed his arm around you so you wouldn't escape. You pouted up at Miguel as you both lay in bed. He kissed you on the lips before turning off the lights again.

"Buenas Noches, hermosa. Go to sleep."

Month 9

It was a week before your due date. And any day you could burst.

You woke up feeling fine this morning, and you and Miguel began your weekly morning routine with Mateo as you walked him to school. It happened after saying goodbye and walking a block from the school.

Your water broke. At first, you didn't 100% know what happened, but as soon as it did, you felt an unbearable pain in your stomach. It was a contraction. As your mind was finally coming to terms with what was happening. You registered that you were in labor. And your baby girl was coming today.

At your side, Miguel picked you up in his arms as he quickly returned to the apartment and grabbed your go back for the hospital. He then put you in the car and rushed over to the hospital.

Before you knew it, you were in a hospital gown with Miguel holding your hand, nurses all around you, and a doctor ready to deliver your child as they coached you through the contractions.

Even with the epidural, you still felt some of the pressure of the contractions, which were still painful. Time didn't feel real as you tried to push the baby out. It was your second time. Why did it feel like you had never given birth before? Your head rested on Miguel's shoulder as tears fell down your eyes.

"I-I c-can't. I'm too tired." You sob out loud. Miguel pressed his lips to your forehead. He hated seeing you in pain. It tore at his heart. He wishes he could remove the pain to make it easier for you.

"You got this cariño. You can do this. Five more minutes of pain for a lifetime of happiness." Miguel's words of affirmation brought some hidden strength inside you as you gave it one final push. And you were done.

You laid back against the hospital bed in tears of joy and relief when you heard the cries of your daughter.

"Mi amor, you did amazing. Thank you for bringing our baby girl into this world." Miguel kissed your head as a tear rolled down his cheek. He was overcome with joy as were you.

"Congratulations." Said the doctor as she passed you, your little bundle of joy in your arms. Tears began to pool in the corner of your eyes as you saw your daughter for the first time.

"Hi there." You say in a baby voice as you kiss your daughter's forehead. You see her move slightly in your arms. Even though she was only a few minutes old, you could see the strong O'Hara features she shared with her brother and father.

"What name have you chosen for her?" Asked one of the nurses.

"I was thinking of the name Mariana." You look at your baby girl before your gaze meets Miguel's. You could see his heart glow in his eyes as he looked at you in surprise as tears brimmed the corner of his eyes.

"Gabi's middle name?" Miguel said out loud to you.

"To honor her big sister." You say to Miguel as a tear falls down his cheek. The biggest smile spreads across his face as you gently give him your newborn daughter.

She was so tiny in his arms. Some of her features reminded him of Gabi, as he held his newborn daughter in his arms and gently kissed the top of her head. He smiled at you as another tear rolled down his cheek. "Mariana is perfect for her."

"Mariana Catalina L/n O'Hara."

Three Months Later

The sound of your daughter crying on the baby monitor instantly woke you up. Looking at the alarm, it was 2:15 am. She was hungry.

You were about to get up when Miguel touched your shoulder and kissed your neck. "Don't worry, amor. I'll get up. You go back to sleep."

Miguel stood up from the bed and walked out of the bedroom and towards the nursery. As he entered the room, he picked up his wailing daughter. "Shhhh, it's okay, Princesa. Papa's here." Miguel whispered as he cradled her in one of his arms as he walked to the kitchen to grab his daughter her bottle.

Within a few minutes of being in his arms, she calmed down as she cooed and giggled as she looked up at him with her big brown eyes.

He walked back to the nursery as he fed her. He rocked her in his arms after he finished feeding her. He could see her not falling asleep immediately, so he began singing her a lullaby.

You heard Miguel begin to sing to your daughter through the monitor. You got out of bed, unable to resist seeing the adorable sight in person. You quietly walk to the nursery, lean against the door, and watch Miguel lull your daughter back to sleep.

"Hush, little baby, don't say a word; Papa's going to buy you a mockingbird..." You hear Miguel sing.

Your heart melted at the sight. A memory you will always keep forever close to you. Once Mariana returned to sleep, he gently kissed her forehead before settling her back in her crib. You gently walked up to him as you both watched your daughter sleep.

"I thought you were asleep?" Whispered Miguel to you as he wrapped an arm around your waist.

"I couldn't resist not seeing her adorable face." You whisper back as you gaze lovingly at your daughter. "I can't believe it's already been three months since we brought her back from the hospital." You add.

"I know, it's going by too fast," Miguel said as he led you out of the nursery and back towards your bedroom. “We could give Mariana and Mateo another brother or sister in a year or two." Miguel added.

"Funny joke." You look up at him wide-eyed as you lightly chuckle.

"No, cariño. I'm serious."

The End

____________________________________________

Tag List

@theprettyarachnid

@crowleysthings

@gryffinclawstuff

@toaffes

@miggyyyyohara

I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I did.💕

Stay tuned for “ An Unexpected Match.”

[allysunny]

Hi Ally!! (Can I call you that?)

First of all,

*ahem*

CONGRATS ON 200 FOLLOWERS WOOOOOO✨️🩷🎉

I know that every single one is deserved, and I'm proud to be one as well 😌

I saw that you were doing a lil event to celebrate, so don't mind if I do!! 👀

I'd love it if you could write some much needed luv with Brucey! I picked 25+1 + g!

Imagine that Bruce and reader are just watching the stars, maybe either in the gardens of Wayne Manor or on top of Wayne Enterprises, and all Bruce can think is how beautiful reader looks under the shinning stars 🥹

Basically, Bruce is infatuated and he's smiling like an idiot!

You can add, take away stuff as you please, of course!

I'll wait as long as you need, so no pressure!

I'm excited to see what you come up with!!!

Much love,~ Fi 🐝

"You look stunning" / "You don't look so bad yourself" + "I love you" + Stargazing x Bale!Bruce Wayne

Words: 4k words

Warnings: Tooth-rotting fluff, friends-to-lovers, Bruce is a big sap and he's very much in love, stargazing and talks of stars (nothing too technical). This is extremely sweet, very corny and sappy and I live for it! Written with a female reader in mind, I'm sorry but I don't yet write for GN!Reader.

A/N: First of all, thank you very very much for the kind words!! YES, you can absolutely call me Ally! Everyone can! I agree that we need some love with Bruce because this man needs happiness pleasepleaseplease...

This was my first 200 Followers Celebration entry (which is still open and you can participate!), and I'm so happy that I got to write this scenario! We don't often get to see Bale!Batman being happy, so I hope I did him justice, and I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Took me some time because I had to sort out some uni stuff, but it's done and I really had fun with it!

I hope it is to your liking!

⁽ᵃˡˢᵒ, ˢᵐᵃˡˡ ᶠᵘⁿ ᶠᵃᶜᵗ, ⁱ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵍᵒ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵍ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵐᵃᵍᵍⁱᵉ ᵍʸˡˡᵉⁿʰᵃᵃˡ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃᶜᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ʳᵉᵃˡˡʸ ᵈⁱˢˡⁱᵏᵉ ʰᵉʳ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒᵛⁱᵉ ˢᵒ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ⁱ ʷʳⁱᵗᵉ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʳᵃᶜʰᵉˡ, ⁱ ᵃˡʷᵃʸˢ ᵖⁱᶜᵗᵘʳᵉ ᵏᵃᵗⁱᵉ ʰᵒˡᵐᵉˢ 😭⁾

Parties at Wayne Manor could be oh so dreadfully boring.

Bruce didn’t particularly enjoy them, nor did he even want to throw them, but he knew it was necessary to keep up appearances. Tonight, he celebrated his birthday.

The evening had been filled with fake smiles, polite nods, firm handshakes. “Happy birthday, Mr. Wayne”s here, “You’re looking more and more like your father each day”s there, “What a spendind party this is, Mr. Wayne!”s in the corner, and, if he was feeling particularly unlucky, a few “Ah, what a lovely Manor you have, Mr. Wayne. Such a shame you’ve been keeping its beauty from the world…”s somewhere.

He’d downed one or two glasses of champagne in a few gulps, finding it harder and harder to stand the people all around him, fake leeches who hung on his every word and command, enthralled by the promises of what his money and wealth might mean to him.

Well, all except for one.

You.

You’d been friends for a while. Bruce can’t pinpoint exactly what made him think of you as his best friend other than just a regular acquaintance, but he knew he would never give you up. You were the only person who saw him for he really was, who refused to kiss his ass and baby him, who told him things as they were instead of coddling him simply because his name implied he was to be so.

He felt disarmed when he was with you, able to say anything that went on his mind. He could be himself. Could crack terrible jokes that would have you throw pillows at his face, could drop the eccentric billionaire façade and be an annoying nerd (as you so often put it), just looking for some friendship. He could talk to you for hours on end about topics that weren’t his last name, his family, his money, or his status. He could ask you for book recommendations and be told he’d enjoy this one silly adventure book about spaceships and planes, as opposed to the boring non-fiction and autobiographies usually gifted to him, “a man of culture”.

He could ask you for good restaurants and you’d take him to small, barely noticeable cafes and places that served homemade food, instead of being offered reservations at Michelin worthy restaurants. He could be a regular person.

Every time he felt himself loose grasp of his identity when adorning the black suit, he was reminded by you of who he was. You didn’t know of his secret identity but could sense when he was particularly tired or trained and were always able to put a smile on his face and return his grip on reality.

He needed you by his side. You calmed him down. You cheered him up whenever he felt upset. You made him laugh whenever all he wanted to do was cry. You didn’t question him whenever he told you he needed space, instead providing him with just that. And as days went by, Bruce Wayne was not sure if he saw you as a mere friend anymore.

After all, friends don’t linger their gazes on each other’s lips for more time than deemed appropriate. Just friends don’t make up fake problems or fake dilemmas just to get the one to visit them (let’s be honest – “I don’t know where I put my remote” was a pretty pathetic excuse and Alfred mocked the hell out of him after you’d left).

In conclusion, he needed you. By his side, to cheer him up, to get him out of boring situations, close, smiling, laughing, happy, to hug him, to be with him, etc. He needed you.

Which was why he’d invited you to celebrate a date as important as his birthday.

Bruce never really minded his birthday. He usually spent it at work during the day, politely accepting the nice words people gave him, then got home, ate his favourite dish cooked by Alfred, and left right after to protect the city of Gotham.

But unfortunately, he just had to celebrate his birthday this year. He’d been cornered by a few Wayne Enterprises associates and tricked into throwing a hell of a party in his Manor. He just sighed and filled Alfred in on the conversation he’d had at work, instructing the older man to take care of the preparations.

And of course, he’d invited you. If there was anyone that could make this dreadful celebration just a bit more bearable, it’d be you. He invited his childhood friend Rachel Dawes as well, but she’s just announced her engagement to District Attorney Harvey Dent, and while they remained friends, he did not expect her to dedicate him all of her time (especially when everyone kept asking to see her ring and tell the wonderful story of how they met).

But the problem was, you were nowhere to be found.

He knew you had arrived, Alfred had told him so, but just as he was about to chase you down the huge area that served as a ballroom, he was interrupted by a few family friends. Seeing as these were some of the few families that were in genuine good terms with his parents, and not simply greedy leeches, he decided to chat with them, smiling genuinely at their compliments and quips.

But now it’d been a few hours, and he couldn’t find you. And the combination of all of the unwanted people, the general chatter, and the lack of the one person he wanted by his side were getting to his head. And perhaps the champagne as well, even though he hadn’t drunk nearly enough to be the slightest of tipsy. What if Gotham needed him?

“Ma’am, I’m sure your quest for the very much secret next Fabergé Egg is quite intriguing, but I have a few guests I need to tend to. Everyone wants a piece of the host, what can I say? Birthday boy privileges.” He charmed the woman with one of his most dazzling smiles and pried away from her gloved grip, looking around for his knight in black and white armour.

Quickly replying to every guest that throwed a comment his way, he reached Alfred, who was standing in the corner of the room, silently accessing the party.

“Another useless conversation with any of these bloodsucking idiots and I’m killing myself,” he muttered, grabbing a champagne flute from a passing maid, and chugging the whole thing in one go.

“And here I was thinking you’d probably die at the hands of some unruly criminal, wearing the cape and cowl. All that training and fighting in some remote location only for you to die at the hands of Gotham’s wealthiest?” Alfred said, his voice laced with sarcasm and brow quirked up.

“Well Alfred, get me out of this and I might just be able to die the way you envisioned me doing so.”

“By my hand, Master Wayne?”

“Exactly.”

The two men chuckled, and Bruce took another look around the room, before turning to his butler.

“Have you seen – “

“In the gardens.”

Bruce was halfway across the ballroom, shouting “Thank you!” before Alfred could say anything else.

It took a while for him to find you.

After all, the gardens were filled with people talking, catching up, and the occasional couple slobbering all over each other’s mouths, apologizing profusely once they saw the Manor’s owner stride past them.

“Bruce?”

He turned around and was met with Rachel’s smiling face.

“Running off so soon?” she asked, Harvey Dent’s unmistakable figure walking up next to her right after.

“Yes, well, one can only get so much attention before they start getting bored of it.”

Rachel gave him a sympathetic look, and shook her head, nudging it towards Harvey.

“You don’t have to pretend with us.”

With these words, a weight was lifted off Bruce’s shoulders. His posture wasn’t perfect anymore, and the charming, cocky smile left his lips.

“If I have to talk to one more person who wishes to know who the hell decorated the living room…” Bruce sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose with his fingers.

“I get it,” Harvey said, shaking his head. “If only people were interested in something other than how much I spent on Rachel’s ring, I’d feel more inclined to interact with them.”

Bruce nodded and smiled in understanding, before looking around. He thought he’d glanced at a very familiar face, but unfortunately, it wasn’t you.

“Looking for someone?” Rachel asked with a knowing smile.

“Yeah, actually, have you seen – “

“She was near the apple tree in the back.”

“Thank you.” Bruce nodded and all but sprinted towards the place, leaving Rachel to giggle with a rather confused Harvey.

“Who’s he talking about?” he asked.

“A “friend” of his,” Rachel replied nonchalantly.

“He seemed rather eager to see this friend of his. Surely that’s not all there is to her.” He chuckled; brow quirked up.

“And that, Harvey, is what everyone else but the two of them have figured out.”

Bruce did not hear what his friend had said, but if he did, he’d have gently corrected her.

Because he had, in fact, figured out whatever he felt about you.

Mostly.

He knew he liked you, that’s for sure.

He liked your smile. He liked your personality. He liked how your nose wrinkled up whenever you were cooking. He liked how your eyes sparkled whenever he gifted you a new volume of a book series you’d been collecting, or the way your laughter resonated across the Manor whenever you beat him at videogames. He liked how you always stopped to pet cats and dogs on the street, and how you made funny faces at babies in the supermarket.

He liked how his Manor, although big and empty, seemed full of life with you in it. Even if you were cuddled up on one of his couches, watching a movie, he always thought of it was warmer and more inviting just from your mere presence. He liked it when you massaged his head, thumbs circling his forehead so gently that he often found himself falling asleep in your lap. He liked your touch – found it addictive. Pulling you close to him on the street to protect you from traffic, hugging you every time he saw you, having you throw fake punches at him whenever he told a terrible joke.

He likes you. That much is clear.

But why was it so damn hard admitting that to you?

His steps slowed down as he approached a very familiar apple tree. Wayne Manor had plenty of beautiful plants and trees, much more so than this one. But there was something about it that always caught your eye. Not to mention, it was near a secluded area of the gardens, and you had always been fond of hiding in there. “It makes me feel at peace”, you told him.

Sure enough, that’s where he found you. Staring at the night sky, pretty locks of hair carefully styled with a few flower clips, hands resting one on top of the other behind your back.

You turned to him, shaken up by the sound of footsteps, and he took you in.

And, wow.

To say you looked beautiful would’ve been a crime - such a word couldn’t do you justice.

You wore a sparkly silver gown that pooled softly at your feet, your form modestly accentuated. Two silver straps held it at the front, coming together in a flattering cleavage. Your back was on display, and Bruce had to control himself not to touch it with his bare hands. You looked lovely, your silhouette shining beneath the stars. Their gentle glow was casting a perfect light on you, making you look even more like the celestial bodies you were admiring.

“Bruce?” you asked, tilting your head slightly.

Bruce shook his head, grounding himself.

“Yes. Hey – hey.”

“Cat got your tongue? I said happy birthday,” you smiled and walked up to him, silver dress twinkling with each step you took.

It was as if all of you were made of pure, sheer, dazzling starlight.

“Won’t your guests miss you?”

Bruce approached you halfway and gave you a shrug.

“Probably. Doesn’t mean I’m going to miss them.” This earned a smile from you, and Bruce found himself smiling too. His gaze lingered on your face for a while, before descending once more and taking your lovely figure in again.

“You look stunning,” he said, and you seemed to blossom at his praise.

“Thank you. You don’t look so bad yourself.” And he didn’t. With his black tux and matching bow, he was the picture of elegance and charm. And that disarmingly charismatic smile of his was helping him a long way. There was a reason of course, women fawned over his good looks.

“What are you doing out here?” Bruce asked nodding his head towards the night sky, the one you had been looking at.

“I couldn’t take it in there anymore. It was way too loud, and everyone was way too fake,” you rolled your eyes and sighed. “And the sky is looking far too beautiful tonight. At least here I won’t be disturbed.”

“Well, I did just disturb you, so I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

“I wouldn’t call it disturbing. Your presence is always welcome.”

For a while, the two of you stood side by side, just watching as the sky glittered above. It was peaceful and quiet, and everything Bruce had wanted for his birthday. A nice, uneventful evening with you by his side.

“I can’t believe you can actually see the stars tonight,” Bruce mumbled, genuinely impressed. Usually, as the industrial and active city it was, one never got to see the stars thanks to smoke, lights, or other manmade obstacles. But tonight, the sky was clear and bright, and no clouds were in sight.

“Right?” you smiled, pointing at the sky above you. “Look over there – see that one?”

“Which?” Bruce squinted.

“That one – the kyte.”

“Ah. Yes. I do.”

“That’s the Big Dipper.”

“And the other one next to it?”

“That’s the Small Dipper. Can you see that bright star at the end of it?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s Polaris, the Polar Star. It’s supposedly the brightest star in the night sky.”

“I can think of something brighter,” he muttered stealing a glance at you.

You leaned against him and spoke of constellations and stars to him. Told him the myths that surrounded each one, how far they were from the Earth, how they’d come to be discovered. The party had been long forgotten by the two of you, and after a few minutes of discussing each constellation and their origin, you fell into a comfortable silence, just happy to listen to the happy sounds of crickets and the soft wind brushing against the trees.

“I got you something,” you said, breaking the silence after a while.

He turned to you as you opened your purse and pulled out a small, rectangular object carefully wrapped in golden wrapping paper.

“I know it’s not much – “

“[Y/N]”

“Shush! I know it’s not much, but I worked hard to find it.”

You handed him the small package and he was careful to not rip the whole thing open. Bruce carefully removed a book from inside, and his eyes widened.

“The Great Gatsby?”

“Open it.”

He did, and his eyebrows nearly rose to his hairline.

“Is this?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you sure?”

“Mhm.”

Bruce carefully touched the inked paper, eyes going over F. Scott Fitzgerald’s words over and over again.

“Where’d you find this?” he asked with a smile.

“That’s a secret. But it’s been quality checked a few times, and I can guarantee it’s the real deal.”

“So, with “It’s not much”, you meant you were giving me a signed copy of The Great Gatsby?”

“You deserve more than that, Bruce.”

In a heartbeat, he had embraced you tightly. You rested your head in the crook of his neck, standing on your tiptoes to wrap your arms around him. Overcome with joy, Bruce spun you around once your twice, and you laughed loudly, holding onto him for dear life.

“Be careful Bruce – shit, don’t drop me!” You protested in between giggles.

Bruce came to a stop, and looked right into your eyes, the world’s biggest grin playing on his lips. It’d been a while since you’ve seen him laugh so freely. Such occurrences were rare – Bruce wasn’t one to smile, not really. But when he did, it was a lovely thing. Not one of his fake smiles, the ones practiced in front of a mirror to impress rich folks and Gotham socialites – the real ones, the ones he gave you in special, true moments like these.

You’d do anything to see him smile like this more often.

“I’d never drop you,” his voice dropped to a whisper, and he swore he could see one hundred stars in the spark of your eyes. In fact, the stars in the sky did not hold a candle to your beauty, no celestial body would ever be more fascinating than your eyes. He was sure astronauts had to be wrong – how did they want to explore the galaxy, when there was one right here, staring into him?

“I know,” you whispered back, hands still on his chest. “I trust you.”

He waited for a minute, eyeing the contours of your face, memorising the way your mouth parted and how soft strands of hair fell on top of your forehead. You stood still, still observing the smile that never left his lips.

“Do you?” He broke the silence.

“Hm?”

“Trust me.”

“Of course I do. I’ll always trust you.”

“Promise?”

“Promise, Bruce. Always.”

“Please remember those words after I do what I’m about to do.” He chuckled and leaned in, brushing his lips against yours in a silent request. Your breath hitched and you looked up at him, to find his eyes closed. You were inches away from him, and yet, he refused to move any further.

“Tell me it’s not just me,” he whispered. You could feel his warm breath on your skin, and it sent goosebumps all over your body. “Tell me the way I feel about you is not one-sided. But if it is – “ and you swore you felt him tense, “I’ll leave it alone. We’ll forget this ever happened; we’ll go back to being friends. But please, just tell me.”

You took shaky breaths, still feeling dazed from being so close to him.

Bruce remained with his eyes closed – he didn’t have it in himself to look at you, not right now. He was far too scared of what he might find in your eyes. Regret, disgust, hate. He couldn’t deal with it.

But the worst thing was the silence. Weren’t you going to say something? Were you going to taunt him forever? He could feel your body against his hands, soft skin sending shivers down his spine, so he knew you hadn’t left yet. Why weren’t you replying?

He got his answer when you pressed closer against him, and he felt your lips on his.

Bruce had fantasised about how his first kiss with you would be, but nothing prepared him for this moment. It was as if you were made for him, slotting perfectly against your body, hands on the small of your back, bringing you closer while your hands rested on his cheeks. Your lips moved in unison, as if speaking a language of their own, and Bruce felt slightly lightheaded.

You tasted sweet – probably from the chocolate covered strawberries you’d no doubt been stealing inside, and wanted to savour them, savour you, for as long as he could.

When you two parted for air, he pressed his forehead against yours, finally opening his eyes. The view was breathtaking; your lips were puffy and parted, your eyes were big and wide, pupils dilated and sparkling in the moonlight. Bruce swore you’d never been so beautiful.

And then he smiled, widely, and burst into chuckles like a lovesick teenager.

“You look beautiful. Have I told you this yet?”

“You have,” you replied, caressing the skin of his cheek. He leaned into your touch, pressing a tender kiss on your palm. “You do too. I love to see you smiling. You should smile more often.”

“Like this?” he asked, pointing at his grin.

“Yes – exactly like that. I could see you smiling more often. And I bet Alfred could too.”

Bruce grinned and kissed your forehead. After, he kissed each of your cheeks, and then the palm of your hand, and then the back.

“As long as you’re by my side, I’m sure I’ll smile much more often.” He confesses.

“Well,” you brought his body closer to you, and all Bruce could think of was how stunning you were, how beautiful you looked, how lucky he was to hold a star in his hands. “I don’t plan on leaving, Birthday Boy.”

It was so uncharacteristic of him. He never smiled this often, and certainly, never for this long, but Bruce couldn’t help it. He was happy. He had you, right there and then with him. Everything was well – more than well, everything was perfect. So why wouldn’t he smile?

His heart was getting fuller and fuller, and he blurted out the next words, without giving them much thought.

“I love you.”

You stared at him, eyes wide, surprise written all over your face.

And Bruce kept speaking, because for once, he was not at a loss for words, he knew exactly what to say.

“I think I’ve loved you ever since I first saw you. I love you and the way you brighten my days and make me feel like something when I can barely get out of bed. I love how you always manage to pick up the pieces whenever I’m shattered and never make me feel responsible for it. I love you. I love your beautiful face, your bright mind, your kind soul, your feisty spirit. I love you – I think I have for a long time, but I’ve never had the courage to tell you. But tonight – this party – you – it's made me realise something. This is Gotham. I could wake up tomorrow, and you’d be gone. I’d be gone. Anything could happen in this city. And I can’t let them happen without you knowing how I feel about you. I’m not expecting an answer back; I know this is a lot of information. And I know I come with a lot of baggage. There’s a lot about me you don’t know, and I haven’t told people to keep them away and keep them safe. But, if you’ll have me, I promise to spend the rest of my days making it all worth it. I will love you and take care of you forever, I promise. I love you, [Y/N].”

You looked at him, and Bruce saw your eyes sparkle with unshed tears. Had he scared you off? Were you upset? He reached out to hold your face, ready to wipe the tears away should they fall.

“I’m sorry. That was too much, wasn’t it?”

“I… I think I love you too.” You replied. The tears did not roll very far down your face, because Bruce was there to wipe them away. And in that moment, you knew he would always be there, be it to catch you, or wipe away your tears, or hold you close. “I really do.”

Bruce’s smile only widened, and he picked you up once again, spinning you around in the darkness of the garden. Your dress floated around you, like a shooting star’s trail, and he laughed loudly. He hadn’t felt this happy, truly happy in a big while. You joined him in laughter, and he put you down carefully.

“Thank you.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“For what?”

“For the perfect birthday gift.” Bruce bent down to capture your lips once more, and stare into your eyes. “You look like starlight tonight. You look perfect. And I’m the luckiest man in the world.” He smiled and kissed you again, because the stars were shining, and you looked beautiful, and his heart was full.

Bruce Wayne didn’t smile very often. But how could he not, when you rivalled the stars up above, and were his, and made his heart burst with joy?

A/N: And that's it! I hope you guys liked it! I'm afraid it was a tiny bit rushed - please do tell if it was. I hope it lived up to the expectations!

Thank you very much for reading, and I hope you have an amazing day ahead!

[julinasblog]

BACK AGAIN (E.W.) pt.1

cw: swearing, mini backstory, 16 & 19 flashback age gap, mentions of smoking and drinking, bad terms, little bit of anxiety, (uses of Y/N), cliffhanger, mentions of abandonment, future smut in pt 2.

note: this is my first actual writing and post so bare w me 😭. please give me recommendations and or requests !! ❤️ also the start of this is pretty slow, sorry !! let me know if you guys want a second part ❣️

summary: On your walk back home, you suddenly get a message from your best friend who is updating you on a special someone who recently came back to town and wants to catch up after ending on bad terms.

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸

-

Usually on late nights like now you'd find yourself with Dina, in her car, driving you home. but tonight was different. You took the normal route but this time you had to walk from Dina's place, as always because tonight she was with Jesse of course, but, she promised to make it up to you, and she kept her promises.

So here you were at 1:00am, wandering the streets of your neighborhood. Recently there has been much talk about weirdos and hobos roaming the area. Not that it scared you.. (Which is what you tried to convince yourself.) You continued walking until a sudden familiar ding was heard from you phone, followed but a ring.

"Hello??"

"Girl. I've been texting you. Where are you?"

"Dina, I'm fine i'm like five minutes away from my house, I'll survive."

You knew Dina cared for you.

"Alright, alright. Just let me know when you get home. Again, i'm sorry for the quick change of plans."

"Dina, it's fine. Just go spend some time with Jesse, you deserve it."

From the other side of the phone Dina rolled her eyes playfully as she smiled.

"Thanks, I owe you."

"Big time." You joked

You hung up and as soon as you knew it, you arrived home. "Ugh finally." You grabbed your phone out and shot a quick text to Dina, as you said you would.

Y/N : 'finally home as always, and i survived too!?..huh!'

Dina : 'yeah, yeah whatever, BUT off topic you'll never guess who just texted me.'

Y/N : 'huh? who'

Dina : 'bitch, guess.'

Y/N : 'cmon, i have nothing to work with, just tell me'

Dina : '🙄 i was expecting more of a dramatic guess but THE Ellie Williams just texted me. She said she's back in town, her and that cat girl just broke up, so she moved back here.'

Y/N : 'WHATTT. don't tell me she's moving back to our city...'

Dina : 'you guessed it!'

Y/N : 'shitt, i haven't seen her since i was like 16. i hope she forgot about me, we ended on horrible terms girl. 😭'

After a while you continued your night waiting from a response from Dina until finally, you felt tired enough to go upstairs into your room onto your bed and you began shutting your eyes.

-

Multiple rings awoken you, suddenly making you rise up with a hand to your chest, over your heart. You took a look at your phone revealing a missed call from Dina and a few new messages. You glanced at the time. 10:47am. "Fuck, I fucking slept in again." You whined before you sat up on the edge of your bed before opening the notifications.

Dina : 'bitch wake tf up , I HAVE NEWS. SHE IS ASKING ABOUT YOU.'

Dina sent you a screenshot of their messages. Chatting back and fourth before one of Ellie's text lands on your name, reading, 'What about Y/N? You guys still friends?' Dina simply replied, 'Yes, still. Are you guys talking? Good terms?' Which made you laugh out loud. Dina was clearly playing dumb. You scrolled the the next screenshot to Ellie saying...'No. Haven't heard from her. Do you have her number? I would talk to her but she's probably still held back from that biatch Nate.' Nate was your ex from your sophomore year. Ellie hated him. Nate would always ignore you and you would always be wrapped around his fingers whenever you could be. Ellie hated you for it, in-fact, she hated both of you for it.

Y/N : 'DAMNMNN. DON'T TELL HER ANYTHING I'M BEGGING YOU. 🙏🙏'

Dina : 'look who is finally up. but seriously, trust me I didn't tell her anything..yet..she invited us and jesse and some other friends of hers to a hotbox.....'

Y/N : 'no way. we're not going.'

Dina : 'Cmon, it'll be fine. we'll even catch up and you guys can get back to being on good terms. I won't force you, but think about it pleaseee.'

Y/N : 'girllll, fine. only if you stay with me and we only stay for a little bit. i seriously don't wanna face her after so many years. when is it?'

Dina : 'THANK YOU. i'll stick with you the whole time, i promise. it's at six. she said it's nothing fancy but their gonna smoke and probably drink. I'll pick you up around 5:20 okay? SEE YOUU. xoxo'

-

"Ugh. This is gonna be humiliating..why did I say yes.." you groaned and was staring to rethink her choices before she got off the bed and looked for an outfit. Nothing fancy. Simple flared yoga pants and a grey camisole with a hoodie tied around the waist. After a few minutes of changing you went downstairs to brush your teeth and ya started to get ready for the day.

5:12pm Dina : 'omw'

Y/N : 'i'm gonna shit my pants.'

-

Dina pulled in the driveway honking. You grabbed your purse, keys, and your phone as you walked outside into Dina's car.

"You ready or what?" Dina asked, clearly confident. "Where is this place anyway? Is this in some sketchy van or like some type of room?" You asked, ready for any possible answer. "Well.. close. It's at Ellie's house- or well, basement." Dina said as she began driving. "Seriously? Out of all places we're going to her house!? She's gonna murder me or something?! She probably remembers the old snotty me from high-school." you whined which made Dina chuckle, "Relax. It's just catching up. She was like 19 and you were 16. Let's be real. She's probably over it by now." Dina said, reassuring.

-

6:02pm. You both arrived. Ellie's driveway was pretty packed. "Dina i'm actually gonna shit my pants." you said, CLEARLY SCARED. Meanwhile, Dina texted Ellie letting her know that the two arrived. "Cmon, it's fine. We're fine. We can stay for a little and leave." Dina said. Soon they prepared and both entered and followed everyone downstairs where Ellie was spotted.

"Ellie!" Dina obnoxiously shouted to which you playfully, but forcefully punched Dina's arm just before Ellie walked over, and boy did she look different. Mullet auburn hair, a toned body, a tattoo, her clothing was different...her tank...and her sweatpants...She looked so...-

Until tapping was suddenly felt on your shoulder. "oh..uh hm?" You looked at Dina who was looking at you right before Ellie came over.

"shitt, you look..different.." Ellie's eyes scanned Dina up and down before she focused on you. "Shit? Y/N? You look different as hell too." This made you feel some type of way but you just couldn't describe it. Dina noticed your lack of comfort and she began talking. "Hey, how have you been, El? It's been a while." No shit, you thought. It's been three years since she left for her, now ex-girlfriend. She left as soon as she turned 19, abandoning you, but she kept little contact with you before she had completely ghosted you. "I'm doing well. But it's been like.. three years, yeah?" Ellie scoffed before she continued. "..we're about to play a game of truth or down in five if you guys are down." Ellie suggested.. but Ellie kept her glance off you but only on Dina.

But Something felt off.

[yikesharringrove]

@thediktatortot sent me some song recommendations with specific harringrove-coded lyrics and I decided I wanted to write something for as many different ones as I have the juice, because I was genuinely inspired and thank you thank you friend for the recommends!

-

First Song: Lemon Boy by Cavetown

“It’s actually pretty easy being nice to a bitter boy like him, so I got myself a citrus friend.”

-

Here’s the thing about Billy Hargrove:

He’s simple. 

Everyone (all the girls) think he’s this complicated thing. This person with a million different layers and a million different faces. And, Steve guesses, that’s sorta true. 

But really, he’s kinda easy to understand. 

He needs kindness. 

There’s not much more to it than that. 

And sure, maybe the why is where the layers come in. He needs kindness because he never gets any blah, blah, blah. 

But at the end of the day, a few nice things, and he’s loyal forever. 

Steve figured it out kind of accidentally. 

Because Billy forgot his textbook in American History, and they sit alphabetically by last name in that class, and so, Steve kinda nudged his book over so that Billy could look on and wouldn’t lose any participation points that day for not being able to answer questions and read when the teacher asked, and so, it was one tiny nice thing. 

Okay, maybe it was more than one tiny nice thing. 

Because it was a chain of tiny nice things. 

Starting with the textbook, and finishing with Steve sucking Billy off in the backseat of the Camaro to “blow off some steam”.

After the textbook, came the apology. 

Half-assed, for sure, and written in scribbly, smudgy handwriting. Not signed, but clear who it’s from. 

Sorry for messing you up like that.

Steve returned it with his own note, dropped pointedly on Billy’s desk in class. 

Sorry for being weird. I promise nothing shady was going on with your sister. I get it though. No hard feelings.

Billy glanced at Steve through his lashes, and Steve was a little disappointed that Billy hadn’t forgotten his history textbook. 

The next nice thing was a coffee. 

Because Steve made himself coffee and a breakfast sandwich on the mornings he decided he didn’t care if he was late to school. 

He was driving to school, listening to an old mixtape he found at the bottom of his glovebox, and he saw Billy. Head bent low, walking along the side of the road. 

HIs hands were in his pockets, and the line of his shoulders was tense. He was all but stomping, and the clear aura of pissed off somehow didn’t deter Steve from pulling along next to him, reaching over to roll down the passenger side window. 

“Hargrove! You want a ride.”

The stomping stopped, but Billy gave no other indication that he had heard Steve. 

The BMW’s engine idled. 

“C’mon, man. It’s like three more miles to school. Lemme drive you.”

When Billy turned to get into the car, Steve was why he was keeping his head down and his shoulders around his ears. 

He had a big black shiner, a bruise covering his whole left eye. 

He sat low in the passenger seat, cranking the window back up. 

“Looks nasty.”

Billy only grunted in response.

“Car in the shop?”

Billy snorted. 

“My dad took my keys.”

Ah. 

Probably clocked him in the face, too. 

Steve’s no stranger to it, even if his dad’s more of a smacker than a puncher. He also had a weird realization that Billy’s dad must be left-handed, like Billy himself. 

Steve took his coffee out of the cup holder, passing it to Billy. 

“You look like you need this more than I do.”

The next nice thing was kinda the one that pushed them over the line. 

Over the line from acquaintances that once beat each other up to actual sort of friends. 

It was also not a nice thing Steve did.

It was one Billy did.

And Steve wasn't even there to witness it.

All he saw was the blue green bruising on Tommy H.'s jaw.

"When are you gonna learn, Tommy. Don't pick fights you can't win."

Tommy nearly snarled at Steve from the bleachers, catching himself last minute before he made a seen in front of the entire P.E. class.

Steve only smirked, and took his seat in front of Tommy.

The coach stood in front of the bored class, explaining that they'd be running laps today.

It's what they did whenever he was too hungover to actually make them so anything.

But it's fine. Steve's always been a good runner, and it means he doesn't have to think about anything or talk to anyone while he went.

He tensed when he felt Tommy lean forward behind him, getting in close to murmur in Steve's ear.

"Found yourself a new attack dog, huh, Stevie? Hargrove nearly knocked my teeth out when I called you a pussy. You givin' it up for him, too?"

"Careful, Buddy. You sound jealous."

Tommy snorted and leaned back, but Steve's gut was rolling.

Billy had taken down Tommy for saying something shitty behind Steve's back.

It made Steve's face hot.

Billy showed up twenty minutes late to P.E. He gave Coach a note, and started his laps with the rest of the class.

Steve slowed his pace to get next to him.

Billy's knuckled were a little bruised, and he had a scratch mark on his neck.

Tommy did always fight dirty.

"Heard you gave it to Tommy."

"He deserved it." Billy kept his eyes forward, his pace steady.

"Yeah. He's a toolbag."

They jogged in silence.

Steve opened his mouth to ask something, when Billy piped up.

"Are we, like, friends?"

"I think so. Unless you make a habit of beating the shit out of people for calling your non-friends pussies."

Steve caught Billy's eye and grinned. Billy's smile was reluctant and small, but Steve liked it.

"Last to finish ten laps owes the winner a milkshake." Steve clapped Billy on the back, and took off, easily weaving through the gaggle of junior girls walking in front of them.

"Harrington, you bastard!"

[bluestar22x]

Colors

A Young!Joel Miller Short Fanfic

xxx

Summary: When you move in next door, you ask Joel and Tommy to paint your house. No outbreak AU. Sarah is in part of the story.

Pairing: Young!Joel x Legally Blind F!Reader (only other physical description is that she doesn't have cloudy eyes); Miller family dynamics

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Fluff, smut, no physical barriers aka condoms (not recommended), Joel taking things nice and slow ;)

Word Count: 5,300 (ish)

Author's Note: I'm not blind myself so I hope I did this justice. I do follow a blind youtuber channel so I've made an attempt to make this accurate considering there's varying degrees and types of blindness. I had to try since I couldn't get this fic idea out of my head.

xxx

November 2003

"Sarah?" Joel called out as he stepped into his house after a long day finishing another construction project with Tommy, kicking off his boots by the door.

"In here," he heard her call from the kitchen.

He climbed the few steps between that room and the entrance way, finding her seated at the dining table, focused on coloring in something on white poster paper with colored pencils.

"What'd you got there?" he quizzed, heading for the fridge and pulling out a bottle of Coke, twisting the cap off. He turned to face her as he took a sip.

"Mrs. Henson assigned us science projects last week," she answered, not looking up. "Mine's on water runoff, you know? How the rain erodes and shapes land and stuff?"

Joel grunted. "Ya. We learned that in school too."

Sarah smiled slightly at his grumpy reaction and continued on, "I got the research paper part of it done yesterday and tonight I want to finish the poster."

"When is it due?" he asked her, walking over to study the drawing she'd made. More than a little bit of pride bloomed in his chest when he noted how realistic the land and water looked on the paper. She was a real little artist.

"Thursday," she replied, "But I wanted to get it done early, since Ava wants to go to the mall tomorrow - if that's okay? We're gonna take the bus together."

"Sure." Joel had planned on taking the next day, a Saturday, off to spend time with her, but he wasn't going to stop her from going out with her new friend just cause he wanted to spend some time with her. Ava was a good kid like Sarah and he wanted to encourage his daughter's friendship with her. It was a good thing for her to be going out with kids her age. She was nearly fifteen, after all. As much as he hated that she was growing up so fast, he refused to hold her back. She was already wise beyond her years. "Do you need any money?"

She shook her head. "I still have that money from dog sitting Mercy."

"Alright."

The Adlers, their closest neighbors, had hired Sarah to watch Mercy for a weekend last month while they were away for a family member's wedding in Oklahoma. She'd earned fifty bucks and as sensible as she was, she had of course put the money away instead of spending it immediately.

Joel wanted to insist he give her some money for it too, she deserved it, but he knew she'd refuse. She was old enough to know that money was tight. They were in a good place, but any big emergencies could easily mess that up, and Joel was also trying save up money for college for her. That she didn't know about.

"Thanks," Sarah said gratefully, getting back to work.

"No need, kiddo," Joel told her, warm eyes watching her. The wall mounted phone in the kitchen began to ring and he frowned before striding over to pick it up. Who would be calling at this time? His brother better not have gotten into trouble again. He'd wring out his neck.

"Miller."

"This Joel?" inquired an unfamiliar feminine voice on the other end of the line - yours.

"Yeah."

"Sorry for calling so late," you said. You stated your name. "I tried calling you earlier today but no one picked up. Guessed you were at work. Anyway, I'm a neighbor of yours across the street, recently moved in next door to Denise. She talked to me today and suggested I call you about getting the inside painted. She gave me your phone number. Said you and your brother Tommy painted her place last year for her at a fair price."

Tommy had been the one to set that small job up. It wasn't what they usually did, but painting was easy, and his little brother had been dating Denise at the time. They'd only been together a few weeks before deciding they weren't quite right for each other, but they'd remained friends ever since. Part of that was Denise throwing them job opportunities every once in a while. He wasn't sure why Denise hadn't given you Tommy's number though.

"You're in luck," Joel said, "We're in between jobs. You want the whole inside painted?"

"Yes."

"Will you have everything we need?" he questioned.

"I've never had a house painted before," you told him. "This is my first home I own. I wouldn't know what to get. But I did get the paint and I'll pay for all the supplies you need to buy, of course."

Joel asked you exactly which house was yours and how big each of the rooms were, if there were a lot of corners, any wallpaper to be taken down, etc. and you answered him in precise ways that gave him an excellent idea on what the job would cost you. When he gave you the estimation he could almost hear the smile on your face in your bright tone. "That's so much better than what the other painter was estimating. When could you start?"

"Well, I'll have to talk to my brother and get back to you in the morning," Joel said, "But we might be able to start tomorrow afternoon."

"On a Saturday?" You were clearly surprised by that.

"Yeah," he confirmed. "I got no plans. As long as my brother isn't doing anything either, we'll gladly get going on it while we're waiting for our next big project to begin."

They'd have two weeks. Plenty of time for them to get your whole house done. More than enough.

"Alright, then, I'll stay near a phone," you said before giving him your number. He used a pen to jot it down on a sticky note pad he kept nearby on a counter. "Goodnight, Joel, and thanks again."

"You're welcome," he said back, and he heard a click on the other end as you hung up your phone. He did the same with his.

"You're working tomorrow?" Sarah asked, disapprovingly.

"I got no plans," Joel argued. "Might as well help her out."

She blinked up at him curiously. "Who is she?"

"One of our new neighbors," he explained. "Denise recommended me and Tommy when she told her she needed someone to paint the inside of her house."

"That's nice of her," Sarah noted.

"It is," Joel agreed.

She let her eyes fall back down to the poster. "I'm almost done here. After can we watch a movie?"

He bent down to kiss her on the forehead and fondly tousled her dark, curly hair. "Sure thing, baby girl. Your pick."

It was probably going to be Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron again, but he didn't mind.

x

It turned out Tommy didn't have any plans the next day either so at one o' clock in the afternoon he met Joel at his house and they took the truck to gather supplies at their favorite hardware store before heading over to your house for two.

Joel knocked on the door, a step ahead of Tommy on the porch, and you opened it up a few moments later, a wide, friendly smile on your face, wanting to make them feel welcome. "Joel and Tommy?"

They both nodded. "Yes ma'am."

You moved aside so they could walk in and shut the door behind them. "Glad to meet you."

You raised your right hand to shake Joel's, just a little too high and a little too much to the left for a sighted person. You knew because you felt Joel gently grasp your hand and move it into a more comfortable position before shaking it.

You couldn't see it, but Joel and Tommy shared a glance, unsure.

"Are you...?" The younger Miller trailed off, not wanting to pry but unable to help himself. You felt him staring at your eyes with confusion, and you immediately knew why.

You nodded at him. "Yeah, it might not look like it, but I'm blind."

Many people not used to being around blind people without sunglasses on didn't know that many blind people had normal looking eyes like yours. You'd even had a few people claim you were faking it because they looked fine and you sometimes could pass as a sighted person to those who briefly interacted with you. You may have lost your sight, but you were a very capable person.

"That why you need us to paint?" Joel asked.

"I need you to paint because I have no experience doing it and I have a job just like everyone else," you answered patiently. Sometimes slighted people tested it, but there was no reason to get annoyed with either of them yet.

"What do you do?" Tommy inquired curiously.

"I'm an author. I write children's books."

You may have not been able to see his expression, but you still sensed his surprise. "Never heard of Helen Keller?"

"No, I have," Tommy stuttered.

Joel huffed at his idiot brother and turned back to you. "Where would you like us to start?"

"In the kitchen," you replied. "My parents and sister are visiting next weekend and I want to make sure the paint in the main rooms are all dry before they do."

You led them from your mudroom into the kitchen and your reddish brown Golden Retriever woofed at them once lowly before trotting loyally up to your side.

"Cute dog," Tommy noted. "Is he your service dog, or can I pet him?"

"Maple is my service dog," you stated, "But she's off duty and would probably love a pet."

You were glad he asked, even if it wasn't necessary in the house. Too many people tried petting Maple when out in public, even though she always had her vest on when she was guiding you. Some people just couldn't take a hint, or didn't care that they were distracting her from her job.

Tommy kneeled and patted his thighs to get Maple's attention. She darted up to him, happily accepting his affection as he scratched her behind the ears. "Hey, girl. Aren't you sweet?"

You glided a hand along the island in the center of the room so you moved a straight line as you passed it and stopped when you reached the end, picking up one of the paint cans you'd left there by the handle and flaunting it to him and Joel.

"This is the color I want in this room," you declared.

Joel took a few steps closer to examine the label on the bucket. "This is a bright lime green, you sure?"

You furrowed your eyebrows at his words. "Of course I am."

"It's just I've never seen anyone around here put a bright color like that on their walls," he explained. "I'm not trying to tell you what to do."

"I picked out all bright colors on purpose," you told him. "I can't see dark colors at all, but in certain lighting, like direct sunlight, I can see bright colors. It's really blurry, but I can still see those colors enough to like it. It's comforting."

You hadn't always been blind. You'd been born sighted, but a genetic disease had slowly taken your sight away and still was. Eventually you wouldn't be able to see bright colors either, but for the time being you could.

"Alright then." He backed off as Tommy stood up. "We'll get to work."

"If you have any questions, I'll be in my office down the hall," you informed them. "Writing."

"Sure thing," Joel said and you just knew he'd nodded out of habit at you. You hid a chuckle from him.

x

Joel and Tommy were good workers. Fast but competent and precise, just as Denise had promised you. In the week that followed, as they steadily painted your plain looking walls so they'd stand out, you all got to know each other a little more and more, a consequence of being in close quarters together, especially when they got busy painting your office while you were still in it.

You learned that Joel had a teen daughter at home, though he'd only turned thirty-six a couple months ago, and that Tommy was an Army veteran. Neither gave details on why he was already retired though. Maybe he'd been injured? You could only guess since you didn't know him enough to feel like you had the right to pry.

Since the Miller brothers were often at your home during lunch you started offering them a plate of whatever you were eating. Tacos, pasta, homemade fried chicken. They took some convincing, not wanting to make you spend extra money on them, but you assured them that it was fine, that it was all excess that would likely end up in the trash if they didn't help you out eating it all. So they ate at your dining table with you and you got to know them a little more.

Though Tommy was closer to your age, and they were both handsome sounding men, you felt yourself helplessly attracted to Joel and his gravelly voice. His attitude matched some of your personality as well. Quiet, observant, with a sarcastic sense of humor.

You found yourself dragging your laptop into whatever room they were working in so you could listen in on them, listen to Joel in particular, even though you typically hated people who eavesdropped. You couldn't help yourself, and if either of the brothers noticed, they didn't mention it. Maybe they liked your company too, you thought. A girl could dream.

x

It didn't take long for Joel to figure out you were someone special. Not because of what you'd gone through in life or because you were pretty, but because of the little things you did.

People in the South were known for being polite and kind neighbors, but that wasn't as standard as most outsiders thought, and you went above and beyond the standard measures when allowed to.

Like when Sarah knocked on the door Thursday after school offering some cookies to buy for the travel club she'd recently joined. They were going to New York in two years and she was determined to pay for it all by herself through the club's typical fundraising events. She was planning on getting a job in the summer too. When she'd explained why she was selling the cookies, you'd bought two dozen for fifty dollars without hesitance and invited her in to hang out while he and Tommy finished their day's work.

"Thanks so much," Sarah repeated as she sat down on a stool in the kitchen, not far from Joel, who was cleaning some brushes off in the sink. He easily heard everything you two were talking about.

"You can thank me by keeping about a dozen of those when they come in," you told her, also plopping onto a stool. "Anything more than twelve in my house and I'll get diabetes real early."

Sarah giggled. "Okay. I'll do that." She noticed Maple as she approached her water bowl for a few licks and beamed at her. "What a pretty dog. What's her name?"

"Maple," you replied. "She's my guide dog, but you can pet her. If she's out of harness, she's not working."

"Come here Maple!" Sarah exclaimed and the dog gleefully sprinted up to her. Sarah kissed her head and rubbed her body until Maple flopped over and offered her belly to her. Sarah giggled again and gave her what she wanted. "I love dogs," she told you.

"It runs in the family, apparently," you mused, probably thinking about how Tommy had reacted on the first day.

Joel himself had patted Maple a few times during the course of the week. His family had always been dog people, even when they couldn't afford dogs.

"Dad told me you're an author," Sarah said.

"He did?"

Joel felt your eyes on his back and heat flooded his face. He didn't want you thinking he gossiped about you behind your back or something like that. He wasn't that type of person.

"I write children's stories, so you probably haven't heard of any of them," you informed Sarah. "I have a series about a family of red foxes who have adventures together." You went on to give a few examples and Joel noticed his daughter listening intently, ever respectful.

"Sounds interesting," Sarah told her afterwards. "I probably would've loved your stories as a kid. Are foxes your favorite animal?"

"They are," you answered, nodding. "Red foxes in particular. They're just such elegant canines. And very clever. They may like chickens, but they tend to rather avoid people in most cases."

"Have you ever seen one in person?"

"Yes, I saw them all the time growing up," you replied. "Lived on a farm."

"Hence your mention of chickens."

You grinned. "Yeah. Foxes don't just like them in the cartoons."

"I can't blame them."

"Me neither."

Joel chuckled under his breath but didn't let it be known otherwise that he'd been listening in, getting back to work instead, leaving you two to continue your conversation without any prying ears.

He later found out when he got back home that you'd sent Sarah away with leftovers from that day's lunch to eat while she did her homework.

Of course you had.

x

By Friday night Joel and Tommy were almost finished your entire house, only needing to do a few finishing touches on the white borders in the otherwise bright yellow painted spare bedroom.

It was six o' clock and Tommy had to leave for a date, but Joel stuck around to finish the job.

"You don't have to stay," you said to him after his brother walked out the front door. "Go home and spend time with your daughter."

"We have plans to go hiking tomorrow," he told you. "But tonight she's with a friend and they're seeing a movie later. Won't be home until ten."

You nodded, not sure what to say to that. You didn't want him to work overtime just for you, but if he wanted to... "If you're sure."

"It's not a problem," he promised you. "Won't take more than another hour, if that."

He was finished in forty minutes, and was examining his work with a critical eye when you walked in to offer him a cup of lemonade. He accepted it gratefully.

"How does it look?" you asked him as he took a sip.

He grunted. "Bright. But the colors you picked turned out nicer than I expected. Do you want me to turn up the light brighter to see for yourself?"

"I can see the color in good lighting," you informed him, "But no matter how bright the light gets I'm not going to be able to see the trim. I'm going to have to trust you on that."

"You can," Joel said with a pause, "Trust me. With the trim, that is. There's no mistakes. We used tape to be sure."

You beamed at the way he was stumbling through his words, rambling. Something you figured wasn't in character for him, unless he was really nervous for some reason.

Would it be arrogant to think it was because of you and not your blindness?

It wasn't like you had men lining up to date you, but you were experienced enough to tell at least when they were nervous because of your presence, whether that be because of your blindness or your looks.

You couldn't tell between those two reasons though. You were just hoping that after the past week Joel was used to being around a blind person.

You walked with him to your front door quietly, unsure of how to proceed, what was next, now that the project was over.

"Call me with the bill and I'll bring you a check Monday?" You heard Joel pick up the tool belt he'd left by the door earlier.

"Sure," he said quietly.

You reached out and grabbed onto his arm before he could open the door on instinct. You wanted to stop him and so you did. It was the first time you'd ever touched him. His arm was toasty warm and you could feel the outline of his bicep under your palm.

You could not see his eyes turn back to you, but you knew they had.

"Thanks for helping me out on short notice," you said in a rush.

"No need to thank me," he countered with a shrug. You dropped your hand back to your side as he continued, "We were between jobs. If anything, you helped us."

You smiled at his insistence. "We helped each other then. My family will see the place as I want them to see it, and you have a little more money to put into Sarah's college savings."

"How'd...?"

You rolled your eyes, but another smile played on your lips. "Any good father's got a savings for their kid, and you're one of the best."

"Sarah tell you that?"

"I don't always need spoken words to see something."

There was some silence after that. "I'd better get home," Joel said eventually, awkwardly.

You pursed your lips. "Didn't you say Sarah's only going to get home at ten?"

"Yeah, why?"

You weren't sure and would never be sure how you grew to be so bold, but that night you knew what you wanted and you weren't going to let him leave until he at least knew it too. "I want you to stay."

"Why? You got something else that needs to be done?" he inquired obliviously.

One thing was clear to you in that moment - Joel Miller hadn't been flirted with in a long time, or at least had been too busy to notice.

You stopped yourself from rolling your eyes at him again and instead placed a hand on the back of his neck.

"I want you," you whispered.

You felt him stiffen under your touch and the next thing you knew he was pressing his soft, plump lips against your own in a heated kiss. He pulled away moments later instead of deepening it, but it had gone on long enough to leave you breathing out heavier than you were before.

"Sorry," he apologized. "I shouldn't have done that without asking."

"I wanted you to," you told him, cupping his face and guiding it back to yours. His mouth opened and you slid your tongue in, sliding it alongside his as you let out a hungry moan. He tasted good.

His hands wandered slowly down the sides of your body, tracing the outline of it until he reached your hips and curled his fingers around them. "Is this alright, sweetheart?"

You nodded vigorously and leaned into him, desperately trying to deepen your shared kisses even more. He guided you to the nearest wall and pressed you up against it as he parted his mouth from yours to kiss down your face to your neck, nibbling over your pulse, and your eyes fluttered shut to focus on the sensation of his teeth scraping the sensitive skin there. "Joel," you mewled.

"You sure you want me?" he asked as he jerked away. "Shit, I don't have any condoms anyway."

"That's okay," you said quickly, afraid he was about to put a stop to what was happening. "I have an implant and I've been tested recently. I haven't been with anyone since. You?"

"Last test was years ago, but I ain't been with anyone since then either," he promised.

You believed him. He was so invested in earning money and raising his daughter right it didn't surprise you he hadn't taken any time to be romantic with anyone in a long time. The thought made you yearn for him even more. Nothing was more attractive to you than a man who put his family's needs before his own. Who'd do anything for them, no matter the cost.

You found his lips again and reached down to unbuckle his belt, but he shoved your hands away. "Not here," he murmured in your ear.

He led you down the hallway to your bedroom, kissing you as you went.

He reached to turn on the light in the dark room but you stopped him. He frowned. "That'll only allow me to see the blue painted walls," you explained. "I don't need that right now. Right now I just want to feel you. To see you."

He immediately understood, guiding your hand to his face and you moved your fingers over it to study him, to get an idea of the main features of his face, and he silently stood there and let you. His thick eyebrows, his long lashes, the laughter lines around his eyes, his sharply curved nose, his neatly trimmed beard, and those soft lips, now puffy from their interactions with your own - you realized he was even more handsome than you'd thought.

"Like what you feel?" he questioned a few beats after you lowered your hand to rest over his shoulders, like the other one was.

"Definitely," you answered. "But a pretty face isn't what's going to satisfy me."

He groaned softly and found your mouth again as you focused on taking off his belt, chucking it to a far side of the room with a clink of metal on hardwood as his hands slipped under your shirt.

"Can I take this off?" he asked.

"Only if I can unbutton yours first," you replied, fingers finding the top button of his flannel shirt.

He patiently waited as you worked on all the buttons then chucked the shirt and the one underneath away as your hands took to his broad chest. You only pulled away long enough to fulfill your end of the bargain, to help him remove your blouse.

He explored your mouth again, needy. You could feel the pent up tension underneath his skin, could feel the hardness of his bulge as he pressed you closer to him, his hands splayed widely on your lower back. He was near desperate for you.

You unbuttoned his jeans and slipped a hand into his boxers, running your hand over his length, giving it a squeeze and a pump. He lurched forward, into your touch with a loud grunt. "I can't take that," he panted as he stepped back. "Not tonight, honey."

The rest of your clothes swiftly found a place on the floor and you found yourself being pressed into your mattress by his body as he covered you and lit you on fire with the gentle touches of his rough hands.

Though he was clearly in need of you, he took his time with you, kissing down your neck and chest, sucking on and swirling his tongue around both your nipples, nibbling the skin over your belly, trying to draw out as many gasps from you as he could. He got a lot. The feeling of his mouth on you, his body over you, it was almost satisfying enough. Almost.

"Now, Joel," you begged.

You felt one of his hands make its way between your legs to gently spread them apart, to slip his fingers through your folds, and he pulled them back almost immediately, to examine them. "Damn, honey, you're already soaked."

"Been thinking about this for a while," you explained. It had been a long week.

"Won't make you wait longer then," he told you, and you felt his left hand go to the outside of your thigh as he guided himself slowly into you with his right one. He was thick, but not unbearably so, and you threw your head back onto your pillow as he perfectly filled you up, clutching at the sheets underneath you at the same time.

He held himself above you as he began to slowly pump into you, making sure you felt every ridge and vein of his cock as he dragged it along inside your heat, and you wrapped your arms around his impressive shoulders, tugging his head down to kiss him between the soft gasps you released every time he pushed back into you.

He built you up like a man with all the time in the world, taking every opportunity to caress you and taste your salty skin. And while you couldn't see anything in the dim room, you could feel his intense gaze as you chanted his name breathlessly.

"You're so pretty, sweetheart," he rasped into your ear. "Especially like this. Making those sounds. Saying my name like that. Need to feel you come."

He lifted one of your legs up, draping it over his elbow, and the new angle had you breaking apart with a loud moan, colors bursting behind your eyes as you convulsed around him. It was the best climax you'd had in a long time.

Joel continued to seek his own pleasure through your high, grinding into you a little harder every time he buried himself to the hilt, inadvertently prolonging it, not that you minded in the slightest. You kissed and nipped at his jawline and murmured to him as you tried to focus on the feel of him moving inside you. "Let go, Joel. I wanna feel it. Want you to feel this good too."

He gave you a few quick bucks before his body finally seized up and you felt him pulsing as he emptied himself inside you, as he gritted out your name and buried his face into your chest. When he did, you ran your hands up and down his spine as you smiled up at the ceiling, soaking in the moment.

You'd had some daydreams about what this would be like, but it had turned out even better, not that you were surprised.

Once he'd gone soft, Joel separated himself from you, rolling onto his back with a satisfied sigh, and you rolled onto your side to face him.

"This feels backwards," he said quietly after noticing and turning to face you too. "But would you like to go out on a date with me next weekend?”

You laughed. “Yes, I’d love to.”

“Good,” he said swiftly. “Cause I don’t want to leave this here.”

"Me neither.”

"I shoulda taken you out first, though.”

"I'm the one who started it," you argued as he reached out and rubbed your cheek with a thumb. You leaned into his touch, enjoying the sweet, unassuming affection.

"That is true." You were cupping his cheek with your left hand so you felt it when the edges of his mouth tugged back into a grin.

"I don't have any regrets," you told him. "You?"

"I'd be crazy to say I do, sweetheart," Joel replied. "It would be more than a little white lie. I haven't thought about being with someone like this in a long time, almost forgot why I like it so much. You've really jogged my memory."

You snorted at that and draped an arm over his chest. "Can you stay for a while?"

"Still got a few hours before that movie ends," Joel said, pulling you even closer. "I could use a nap if you set an alarm."

"Gladly," you told him, reaching over to the nightstand for your alarm. After you were finished with the task, he dragged you back into his embrace and you both fell asleep just like that, in the comfort of each other’s warmth.

It was the first of many nights that would end that way for you both.

xxx

Tagged: @harriedandharassed

xxx

Main Masterlist

[whalyrae]

THE OLD GUARD CHAPTER 2

"We don’t get a say on how it ends, we never have. But we can control how we live."

Summary : You are a powerful witch, cursed and hurt through ages. Owner of your esoteric shop, you were resigned to live this lonely life when the powerful magic of soulmates and fate came to you.

Pairing : poly BTS x reader (she/her)

Genre : soulmate au, demons bts au, witch y/n au, fluff, angst, eventual smut, polyamory relationships

Status : In process

Word Count : 4.3k

Warnings : eventual smut, angst, mention of depression, death, suicide, past trauma, violence, blood, past (sexual) abuse, past torture, PTSD, scars, self harm, and more.

Tag list :  @blackrockshooter780 @babyymeme @starrlo0ver @suckerforv @mushroom-main @m1sss1mp @prettydancingdamzel

A/N : IT'S HERE !! The big one.... Took so much time to write this part... Unlike Dance With me, the chapters here are longer, and will therefore take longer to be published. I like to take my time writing… plus with my adhd it's hard sometimes to stay focused especially since I have my finals coming up soon and I have to study… AND I have a lot of mental breakdowns where I want to delete everything because I have no confidence in myself and my writing skills LOL

Ah, thank you so so much for all the loves you give with this story with all the likes and the shares and the comments ! Love y'all ♥

Masterlist | ao3 | wattpad

Chapter 1 // Chapter 3

☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ 

When Namjoon returned home, saying he was ecstatic was a euphemism. He’d finally found her. Their last soul mate. After all these years. He met her by accident in a shop that his friend had recommended to him. What was the probability? Shit, he should thank Bangchan properly. He will be eternally grateful to him. 

But her reactions when they met worried him. Something happened to her. Something that frightened her at the thought of bonding with her soulmates. They needed to know everything about her. Her past, her wounds, her fears, so that Namjoon and his other soulmates could help her. He wanted nothing more than for them all to be together, as they always wanted, as they always talked about.

They all had so many exciting projects to do. But they always waited, they didn't want to do anything until they were all together.

The time has come. Finally. 

But to do all of that, he needed to tell them about her.

He slammed the door so hard that he woke up the black cat and Hoseok who were both sleeping peacefully on the sofa. 

“Sorry hyungs,” he apologized before taking off his jacket, “I have something really, really important to tell you and…-”

Namjoon, what’s that smell? 

Yoongi’s voice echoed in Namjoon’s and Hoseok’s head. Namjoon wasn’t surprised he already noticed it. In his cat form, his hyung’s senses were sharper. Hoseok frowned and came near his boyfriend to smell him. Slowly, he lifted his eyes to meet his partners. Her sweet vanilla scent was still barely on him, but enough for demons like his boyfriends to notice it. 

“Joonie, you’re finally back! Oh, something happened, Hobi? You should see your face! ” 

Jungkook appeared behind Hoseok, giving him a back hug while his head rested on his shoulder. The others joined them quickly. Everyone was there for Namjoon’s relief. On the way back to their home, he was afraid that the maknaes had decided to go out on the town as they used to do.

But unlike Hoseok and Yoongi, they didn’t seem to notice her smell on him. 

Fuck, he didn’t even know how to tell them. Why was he so nervous? They all waited for that day. 

But he couldn’t forget how she acted towards him. When their eyes finally met each other, how was her reaction during their handshake. The way she read the part of the book, the tears she had held back. 

She didn’t reject him though, he was sure of that. 

“Is everything okay? Oh… you smell really good, is that a new perfume ?” 

He shook his head at Jin's question. Namjoon noticed the oldest’s face changed quickly. Jin was confused in some way Namjoon didn’t understand. He, too, must have wondered where that sweet smell Namjoon had on him came from. 

He looked at each of his boyfriends and took a deep breath before finally saying the words that would change their lives forever.  

“I met our last soulmate.”

The room remained quiet for long seconds. He noticed that Yoongi had returned to his human form, and had the same look as his boyfriends.

Suddenly, they all started asking Namjoon questions. Who’s this person? What’s their name? Was the vanilla smell theirs? Was Namjoon sure they were their last soulmate? If so, why didn't he bring them here? 

The only one who stayed calm was Jin. He was standing behind Namjoon, staring at him in a somewhat strange kind of way that Yoongi had noticed. But he said nothing. He probably had to absorb the information too. 

“Okay, okay, can y’all please stop talking at the same time ?” Namjoon finally asked. 

“But hyung, I want to meet them !” Jimin whined.

“Me too, it’s not fair you’re the only one who’s got the chance to talk to them !” Taehyung added with a pout.

“Tell us where you met them, please! At their work? Or maybe in a library? You like to visit libraries after all! ” Jungkook asked beside him, clinging to his arm. His big brown eyes shone with impatience and excitement. 

Namjoon pinched his nose and sighed. These were exactly the reactions he had expected. Especially from the three youngest. Well, he couldn’t blame them for that. If he were them, he’d react the same way. 

Jin, Hoseok, and Yoongi were calmer, but he knew they were burning with impatience and even envy towards him for meeting her first, and especially for being the only one to know her, for now. He couldn't be upset with them for being so impatient, he'd probably have reacted the same way if he'd been in their situation... 

“Okay guys,” Jin finally spoke, in a strangely calm voice, and wrapped his arms around Taehyung and Jimin’s waist, “Maybe we can let Joon explain to us… right? I’ll make some coffee and tea for everyone. ” 

He separated from his two boyfriends and disappeared into the kitchen before receiving any response. On the one hand, because he didn't need to wait for answers, he already knew what each of them would drink. But also because the second the smell of vanilla had reached him, a sudden headache had taken over him. 

Now alone, he had leaned against the work surface and closed his eyes. His face suddenly tensed. 

Flashbacks invaded his mind. 

He couldn’t recognize or remember the place, the situation, or the person he was with. They were faceless. He couldn’t tell which one of his soulmates he was with. Or was it none of them? But if so, who was it? 

What were these memories? He didn’t even remember living any of them. Were these memories even his own?

“Jin, are you okay? ”

He jump-started when he heard the voice of Yoongi behind him. The second oldest had noticed the suddenly strange attitude of his elder. 

“Yeah, just a headache, nothing serious, don’t worry.” 

Jin smiled to reassure him, but Yoongi wasn’t naive. He came closer to him and put his hand on his forehead. 

“I’m a demon, Yoongs,” he added in a more serious tone and gently grabbed his hand, “I can’t be sick like humans.”

“Then why do you have a headache? Hm? You never had any before now. It oddly coincides with Joon’s arrival and this… sweet and delicious vanilla scent he had on him.” 

He caught a whiff of that wonderful smell on Namjoon, even though it was already very faint. He also hadn’t understood that these sudden flashbacks probably had something to do with that aroma. 

Of course not, he couldn't make that connection. He had never smelled that scent before. 

Or so he thought. 

Jin frowned a little and shook his head, walking away from Yoongi to prepare the drinks. 

“I’m fine Yoongi, I promise.”

Yoongi did not believe him, his senses told him not to. Jin and him were the first two to meet. They were together for several years before their paths crossed with Namjoon and Hoseok. The three younger ones were the last to arrive, decades ago. 

He knew his elder very well. He knew something was up, something probably related to their last soulmate, which they had all been looking for and waiting for all these years. 

Jin said nothing when he saw Yoongi join him to help. But Yoongi couldn’t deny that he, too, felt rather strange at the thought of Namjoon meeting their soulmate. A mixed feeling of excitement, and impatience but also stress and apprehension when he saw Namjoon's serious and worried face. He thought to himself that the same was probably true for Jin and that he was perhaps worrying a little too much. 

Yoongi also thought he should check things out on his own, one way or another. 

Several minutes later, the two boys were back in the living room. Everyone was settled in front of Namjoon and impatient while he was still standing, and nervous as he fidgeted with his fingers, which everyone quickly noticed. 

“Okay,” Namjoon took a deep breath, and ran his hand through his hair, “please, let me finish before asking any questions, because we’ll need to find something to help her.”

°°°

After her breakdown in her apartment, Handong and Gahyeon took her to theirs, not really far away from her home. where the other girls were waiting for her with blankets and food. But she didn't eat anything. The pain and sadness were so big and intense that her stomach was in knots. The thought of eating any kind of food made her feel nauseous. Her head hurts from crying so much.

She was silent at first, but finally, she started to speak and told them everything. Her meeting with Namjoon, how sweet and kind he was towards her, what she felt, the connection that people experienced with the person or people were meant to be with.

A soulmate connection.

All the girls were seated around her. They listened carefully. Bora and Gahyeon were at her sides while the others were in front of her, two on the small coffee table, the three others sitting on the floor.

After that, Siyeon asked her in a soft and calm voice why she reacted like that. Siyeon and the others thought she would be happy to finally meet her soulmate, especially since she also told them that Namjoon and her were linked to six other people, people that Namjoon already knew, making her the last person missing from the bond.

And there’s the moment when she felt tears appear again. The truth was that Namjoon wasn’t the first one she met. Gahyeon remembered her whispering a name when she broke down in her arms. A man named Jin. Who was he? Someone she loved, and who wasn’t her soulmate?

“No, absolutely not,” she answered to Gahyeon when she asked her, “Jin is… one of my soulmates too…”

She took a deep breath. She didn’t want to cry again. She was tired of crying.

She felt Bora’s head leaning on her shoulder and hugging her tightly.

“Can you tell us what happened, unnie ?” she asked in a calm and sweet voice.

Her heart ached for all the memories she had buried inside her to suddenly return. Bright memories, where Jin and she were together, happy and eager to meet their other soul mates. But also, when they had been forced to be separated, when he lost his memory when they had not been strong enough to protect each other. When she was imprisoned by those humans, accused of being a witch, and sentenced to death. How she survived, marking the beginning of her immortality, and escaped to them, and all those hurting centuries she passed alone.

She let out a sigh and finally nodded. She trusted them, they never judged her, and they were always gentle, and understanding. Gahyeon and Handong did not hesitate to come to her house after her message at almost midnight because she needed them. They were the kind of people you only met once in your life. They were true friends.

More than that, she saw them as little sisters.

She could open up to them, she could trust them, about her past, what happened with Jin, how she lost him, and most importantly, why she spent most of her life alone, surviving instead of living.

°°°

“ No! That’s not fair! It wasn’t your fault! ” Gahyeon shouted suddenly.

She stood up, angry and nearly crying, Minji joined her and gave her a comforting hug. She had just finished her story. It has been so long since she talked about it...

Bringing up all her memories was painful, but at the same time, it felt quite good to finally be able to share her pain and sorrow with them. Yoohyeon took Gahyeon's place, taking her hand in hers.

“ She’s right y/n, Why do you blame yourself? You and Jin... you were just victims! ”

“Is there anything you can do to restore his memory ?” Siyeon asked.

“Memory magic is… complex but also very powerful.” she started to explain, playing nervously with her fingers, “Brain and memory have always been a very mysterious subject, and even after all these centuries of studying it… medicine and neuroscience, for human or not, have never managed to unlock all its secrets. He's a demon, like most of you, but your brain is relatively the same as a human's… ”

She shook her head.

“Besides that, we got separated, and after I escaped from those humans, he was gone. I looked for him. I traveled the world, in vain. I never knew where he was. Was he back in the demon realm? I never knew, I tried to summon him, to invoke him, again and again, in vain. He never came to me, and I never knew why... ”

Demons could live freely in the human world if they wanted to. Otherwise, most of them lived in another world, outside time and space, parallel to where they lived now. A world where only demons could enter and leave at their will.

She sighed. She felt tears welling up again, which made her let out a swear.

“We were young and stupid, we didn’t want to waste our time with those stories of invocations and everything…”

“But now, you know where he is, you can see him again !” Yubin suddenly exclaimed, “I’m sure he hasn't forgotten you! Well, maybe for now, but the moment he sees you, all the memories will come back! He's your soul mate y/n, damn it! ”

She looked up at her and sighed again before standing up. She walked to the window and looked through it. The moon was almost full in three days.

“I’m…,” she began, her voice shaking, and she took a deep breath, “I’m scared to face him again, to face all of them. And what if he never remembers me? What if they don’t want me because of that ?”

She bites her lips. Damn it, her heart was beating faster, and not in a good way.

“And what if… she’s still alive? What if she’s still after him and she finds out that I'm still alive, and that I've found him? She could still go after him, or even our other soulmates, and even though I'm more powerful than before, she has become more powerful too… but on the other hand…,” she turned to her friends, and despite the smile on her lips, tears were running down her cheeks, “I want to see him, I want to meet them…”

Those words she just said out loud, she hasn't controlled them. They came out of her lips without her controlling it,

When she met Namjoon, a few hours earlier, her reactions towards him were more about surprise and shock at finding another soul mate. Especially since she had immediately sensed that Jin was there too.

All those memories, all those traumas, and all the things she experienced and had buried inside her were suddenly brought up, causing a surge of panic and anxiety.

But now that she had been able to confide in her friends, to talk about it, to hear their advice and support, she was able to put her thoughts in order.

Okay, learning from one day to the next that she had met not only her soul mate but also the other six, one of whom was her first love lost dramatically was something quite... sudden and abrupt.

After Jin, she never had a love affair and never fell in love again. Of course not, how could she?

Now, the idea of seeing him again, of meeting these six other people who were related to her, too, but who had also taken care of him for… she didn't even know how long...

She didn’t even want to hear the word “soulmate” or anything related to love and bonding. Because she would have felt like she was betraying Jin. She couldn't even imagine being happy with a soulmate or soulmates without him.

“You deserve it,” Minji suddenly said, pulling her out of her reverie, and gently placed her hand on her shoulder, a gentle smile on her lips, “you deserve it more than anyone else. You spent your whole life helping anyone who asks for help, sacrificing your life more than once - literally - for the helping and saving. You deserve to be happy, with those who are destined for you. And I'm sure they too have been waiting for you and are looking forward to meeting you, and to being reunited with Jin.”

She winked at her and wiped her cheeks wet with tears.

“And about this demon bitch,” Yubin continued, making a fireball appear in her hand with a fake smile, “She can come and try if she wants!”

“Yeah! We’re waiting for her! ” Gahyeon added.

Her lips stretched into a slight smile. Things were different than they had been centuries ago.

She was older, more mature, more powerful.

After all these years, decades, and centuries spent alone, hope was finally awakening in her. Hope for a better future, where loneliness would no longer exist.

“Oh girls, wait a minute !” Gahyeon suddenly shouted, “How will she meet them? Namjoon has left his shop and they have not exchanged any contacts!”

“Oh, you know for that, I’m not worried.” Handong replied with a smirk, “He knows where she works. I can bet anything you want that at least one of them will visit her very, very soon.”

°°°

Handong was right, but she didn't know it yet, or at least she didn't believe it.

She wouldn't think that Namjoon would talk about her as soon as he returned home to his... no, to their soulmates.

But he did.

He even specifically asked his partners not to rush to see her. They had to come up with a plan to approach her, enter her life, and bring her into theirs, being attentive to her inner wounds.

He thought he had convinced them. Or so he thought.

The day after she met Namjoon, at dawn, she left her friends' apartment and returned to hers. It had been a short night and she talked a lot. After she confessed, Minji and Yoohyeon convinced her to eat. She then fell asleep against Gahyeon, lulled by their conversations about random things, she didn't even remember them.

She was exhausted. But she had a business to run. There was also the possibility of creatures needing her help. The full moon was coming up in a few days, and she knew that at this time of year, werewolves often accidentally hurt themselves.

She also needed to focus her mind on something else, only for a few hours.

And anyway, she had no information. She didn't know where Jin, Namjoon, and her other soulmates lived, whom she didn't even know yet. 

And then, let's imagine she found herself facing Jin., what would she do? He wouldn't even recognize her. He would see her crying and not even understand why.

She might be his soul mate, but to him, she was yet a stranger.

Maybe it was better if she didn't see them again. Maybe Namjoon would never talk about her after their catastrophic first meeting yesterday, and go on with his life as if nothing had ever happened. Maybe that was the only way.

She sighed and left her apartment after taking a quick shower and changing her clothes. She walked down the stairs to her bookstore and turned the sign to announce that it was officially open.

She had done what she did every day: arranged and dusted the books on the shelves, correctly tidied and cleaned the various crystals, watered her plants, collected the petals and fruit from some of them, dried them for later, and made them into ingredients for future potions or spells and finally, swept the bookshop.

Her day was like any other, except maybe she was more clumsy than usual. She would have liked to blame it on tiredness, but she knew very well that it wasn't because of that.

A dark spot outside caught her eye. In front of one of the windows, sitting and staring into her bookstore, a cat.

Oh, it wasn't just any cat. It was much bigger than the cats she was used to seeing. It was also more graceful and probably the most beautiful black cat she had ever seen in her life.

She was completely mesmerized by this cat, so much so that she put her ballet down against her counter and approached the door she had opened.

She was used to this kind of situation. Stray cats often came to visit her. She got into the habit of feeding them, giving them water, and even healing them if they arrived injured, which, fortunately, was much rarer.

"Hey kitty," she murmured in a soft voice, a little smile on her face, “are you hungry? or thirsty? come in, I'll take care of you.”

She didn't dare approach the cat, she didn't know if he was afraid and would run away if she tried to touch him, or even be aggressive. She didn't want him to go away either, strangely though. She didn't want to be alone.

So she walked away from him, leaving the door open behind her, and went into the back room to get a bowl and a bottle of water.

When she came back, the cat was not only in the bookstore, but he was sitting on the counter. He was seated with his back straight, his dark eyes staring at her intensely.

She didn't know why, but she suddenly felt intimidated by this cat.

She approached him, and put down the bowl to fill it with water. She then walked away to put the ballet away.

And then the truth hit her.

He couldn't be a real cat. Well, yes, of course, it was a cat. But she felt something coming out of him, something magical and mystical.

Something supernatural. Like a shape-shifter.

She turned her head towards him, silently observing the animal that lapped up the water with an almost disconcerting slowness and tranquility.

She took a long breath and the cat raised his head, hearing her, and ran his tongue over his lips, his eyes resting on her.

That deep, dark look. No, even if she was exhausted, it couldn't be the look of a simple cat. Her witch senses were tingling, she couldn't ignore them. She had crossed paths with many shape-shifters in her life, she knew the signs. 

“I know you’re not an ordinary cat,” she finally said to him with a soft, non-accusatory voice, sitting in her chair in front of him, “I’m a witch, a very, very old witch to be honest, you’re not the first metamorph I met,” she adds with a small laugh. 

The cat’s ears bent slightly at the sound of her voice, he blinked slowly, without taking his eyes off her. 

“Are you stuck in your animal form?” She asks, resting her chin on the palm of her hand, “I can help you.”

It took only a few seconds before the cat came a little closer to her. 

Namjoon was right, our new soul mate is a person with a big heart and breathtaking beauty. 

A deep, raspy, and seductive voice echoed in her head. She frowned, slightly confused, as she looked around. Eventually, she realized where the voice was coming from. 

Wait. He said Namjoon's name, didn't he? It can't be... 

Did you genuinely think he wouldn't tell us about you and your first meeting? Come on, sweetheart, we've been waiting for you for so long. 

She took one step back, and another. Honestly, yes, she thought he wouldn't talk about her. 

She couldn't deny that his last words warmed her heart. So, had they been looking for her, too? 

He also asked us to wait…

He continued, turning his back on her to jump off the counter.

I mean, before coming to meet you. But I am his elder after all, why should I obey him? I love Namjoon with all my soul, but he asks too much from us when it’s about you, our precious and pretty soul mate. 

She heard him chuckle and looked down at him. She breathed deeply. She breathed in, and out, slowly. She was trying to calm the rhythm of her heart which was fast, too fast. 

Ah, maybe it's talking to a cat that disturbs you and makes you speechless? You knew from the beginning that I was a shapeshifter, didn't you? 

She shook her head slightly to recover her senses. 

“Not really, I thought you were a real cat at first” she admits, “and no, it’s not the first time I’m talking to a metamorph and... even if I did, it wouldn't be the weirdest thing I've done in my life. But, can you…” 

Oh, yeah, sure. Sorry.

It wasn't talking to a cat that troubled her the most. She was curious. Curious to see what he looked like. What her soul mate looked like.

In the blink of an eye, it was not a black cat that was facing her anymore, but a man. A very handsome man. His beauty was just as breathtaking as Namjoon's but in a different way. Black hair, pale skin, thin facial features, yeah, he was beautiful. Moreover, he was stunning.

Shit, if they were all as handsome as Jin, Namjoon and this guy, she was in trouble.

His gaze was the same as in his cat form. Piercing, quite dark, but now she could read something else in it. Tenderness.

Seeing her reaction, a smirk appeared at the corner of his lips. He ran a hand through his hair and took a step towards her. 

"Thanks for the water, by the way, I was very thirsty." he bowed his head with a slight smile and a soft voice that made her shiver, "I'm Min Yoongi, it's very nice to finally meet you, Y/n."

[lurkingshan]

Hi....If you don't mind, can I ask, what are your top 10 (or top 7) favorite media (can be books/ manga/ anime/movies/tv series)? Why do you love them? Sorry if you've answered this question before......Thanks....

Thank you for the ask, I don't mind a bit! Though I will say that this particular question sent me into a minor existential crisis, because how on earth could I ever pick just 10 things that I love across all media. I don't know if y'all have picked this up about me yet, but I consume vast amounts of media, like...unbelievable amounts of media, it is my great joy in life. I consulted @bengiyo about how to approach this question, and he suggested a frame to help narrow it down: what are my favorites that someone else recommended to me, that I then felt compelled to recommend to others? Hope you don't mind the tweak! As always, keeping this in the realm of Asian media for this blog, here is what I got:

What Did You Eat Yesterday?

When I met @bengiyo and @waitmyturtles I learned very quickly that this was their all-time favorite, and if I didn't like it we were gonna have a problem (jk but not really). I hadn't watched it on my own because until recently (shoutout to our savior Gagaoolala) it was quite inaccessible and I hadn't yet stumbled onto @isaksbestpillow and found her amazing subs. Luckily, I have impeccable taste and WDYEY is in fact a masterpiece, so they watched me watch it, I lost my mind over how unique and brilliant and technically flawless it was, and we are now all bonded for life over our love for this show, which just returned for a second season and will hopefully continue forever. I love it so much I have even started reading the manga, and I am not a manga girlie by nature (I prefer reading prose), so you can be assured I absolutely will not be shutting up about it anytime soon.

Go Ahead

Credit for this one goes to @ginnymoonbeam for watching it first and then sending up a flare for me as a fellow cdrama enjoyer that this one was worth prioritizing immediately. I love big sprawling family stories that unfold over time, I love digging into intergenerational family trauma, I love good dad characters, I love found family dynamics, and I love a well done romance subplot embedded in a much bigger story, so this show hit so many of my sweet spots. It's #1 on my list of modern cdramas and I would recommend it to anyone.

Mo Dao Zu Shi/The Untamed

Speaking of cdramas, I must give a shoutout to @dangermousie who wrote this post summarizing their favorite danmei novels, which I found when I went looking for recommendations and was trying to figure out a way into this segment of Asian media. I admit I am a bit bougie about my reading material and modality, so I really can't deal with machine translations or reading on html pages, and thus I still have not read some of these as I am patiently waiting for official English translations to become available (me and 2HA are gonna have a party in 2024 I tell you what). I had already heard of The Untamed, of course, because I am a human person who lurks in online spaces, but reading the novel got me significantly more interested, and I quickly fell down a months long rabbit hole that included consuming the novel, the show, and copious amounts of fanfiction. This story is so complex and layered and full of fun mysteries and meaty moral quandaries and interesting family relationships and has an A+ second chance romance and one of my all time favorite characters to boot; it really took over my brain for a minute. And while it hardly needs me to recommend it given how popular it already is, I'm still gonna do it whenever I get the chance.

Mo Du/Silent Reading

And while we're on the subject of danmei, let me give a shoutout to my favorite modern danmei novel, which was recommended to me by an IRL friend who is not on tumblr. Mo Du is a sprawling mystery novel that spans five major interconnected cases, and it centers on an exceedingly competent police captain, Luo Wenzhou, and a young business heir/super genius, Fei Du, who start out with an adversarial relationship (but I bet you can guess what happens next!). The crime stories in this are almost shockingly intricate and every detail comes together in the end without a single loose end, which is impressive enough on its own, but somehow the author (Priest, who some of you will know as the writer of Faraway Wanderers aka Word of Honor) manages to also write a perfectly paced, incredibly compelling love story between the two leads that is layered with complex trauma and psychological hot buttons and secrets and lies that unfold organically alongside the mystery. I am in the middle of re-reading it right now and my love for it only grows stronger. The gif above is from a recent attempt to adapt this into a live-action drama that got quickly canceled, but honestly, the less said about that, the better (though Zhang Xin Cheng will absolutely remain the Fei Du of my heart). With China's censorship laws, there will be no faithful live action version of this story, so I highly recommend reading the novel.

Pachinko

While we're on the subject of novels, I must mention another IRL friend recommendation: Pachinko. This one is a sprawling multi-generational family historical fiction epic that tracks the lives of a Korean family that is forced to migrate to Japan during Japanese occupation in the early 20th Century. Y'all, this book is amazing, and it has now been turned into a television show airing on Hulu that is also quite good (though structured quite differently, but that's another post). I learned a ton of real history in the course of reading this, and I found the journey of Sunja and her family so compelling. The book has a real intersectional lens and digs deep into themes of oppression, racism, class disparity, and sexism, and is rooted in Korean values around filial piety, respect for hard work, religion, moral condemnation, and of course, the importance of food to communicate.

The Great Indian Kitchen

Switching gears, let me give a shoutout to this Indian film that my bestie @neuroticbookworm recently recommended to me and @waitmyturtles. This film is about a modern young woman who enters an arranged marriage with a family of high status (though maybe not of the kind you think) and explores her experience of oppression as a woman in a very patriarchal religious setting. The story is really compelling, I learned about a common experience for women in India, the narrative ended in an unexpected place (in a good way), and I really enjoyed the watch. And this film is on YouTube with good subs which I linked above, so it's quite accessible.

Be Melodramatic

Let's get back to dramas, shall we? I credit this one to @kdramaxoxo, who recommends Be Melodramatic constantly, and thank goodness because otherwise this under appreciated gem would have never landed on my radar. This is a beautiful story about a group of friends who move in together in the wake of personal tragedy and tracks their progress as they heal and move on from their hardships. The themes of grief and growth and change are quite poignant, the relationships, both platonic and romantic, are all very compelling, and the music is beautiful. If you haven't seen it yet, what are you waiting for (@nieves-de-sugui this is definitely a good one to add to your list).

Make it Right

Time for @bengiyo to get another shoutout. This is a Thai bl classic that doesn't get the love it deserves, and he is its number one promoter. I don't know when I would have gotten around to watching this if he hadn't recommended it so highly, and I'm so glad I did. I wrote about this one, why I loved it, and why I think it's under appreciated, and I highly encourage others to give it a try.

Coffee Prince

We will end on an OG kdrama classic, which I watched early on in my kdrama journey thanks to a recommendation from an IRL friend who said it was the best version of the well worn Asian drama genderbend trope that they had ever seen, and my god were they right. Not only was this my first Gong Yoo drama (a life changing experience in and of itself) but this one really took me by surprise for how sharp and progressive it was about gender fluidity, sexual identity, and the struggle toward self-acceptance way back when it aired in 2007. I recommend this one to everyone, and its a great entry point for people who prefer queer media and have (justified) suspicion of mainstream kdrama's treatment of queer narratives.

[mercurygray]

The Only One I've Got

This one goes out to the anonymous Fred Friend.

It looked like it was going to be sunny today.

After the long slow slog through December and January's sleets and snows, sunshine would be welcome, even if it was only for a few thin February hours. The weather was pressing in on them just as much as the missions were, and so far 1944 had not had much to recommend it.

(Their director had asked quietly at New Year's if a reassignment would be welcomed, but she didn't really want to go. If she left she'd lose so many good memories.)

"I left the mail on the table," Tatty said, coming in from the front where they usually parked the jeep. "I didn't see what's there."

"Thanks, Tat!" Fred said, brushing the last of the toast crumbs from her fingers and going to look at the pile. Helen, Helen, Mary, Tatty, Helen - and a small square of what looked like cardstock, stamped several times in purple and red with a very serious German word in the upper left corner, and her name, Freda Torvaldsen, written in careful block script in the address.

She must have made a noise, because Helen was suddenly there, and maybe Tatty, too, and she couldn't remember sitting down in the chair, and the rest of the mail had fallen on the floor. Her vision was swimming a little.

She wanted it to be from him. Maybe it wasn't.

"Fred, honey, you need me to read it to you?"

She shook her head, her hands shaking as she tried to turn it over to open it and nearly ripped the thing in two. Tatty took it from her and eased the seal open before she handed it back.

It was dated three months ago - December.

Dear Fred,

I'm hopeful that maybe you've tried to get news about me before now. If not, my new stationery should inform you - I am alive, and a guest of the Germans in a Prisoner of War camp. I'm sorry I haven't written before now. Now that we are settled we are permitted to send three pieces of mail a month and I needed to tell my folks first.

It feels very strange to write your name at the top of a letter. I've never had to write to you before. I'm hopeful that maybe we can keep this up, if you still feel the same way you did several months ago. Quarters here are close and I couldn't keep who I was writing to private. I need to let you know there have been some complaints. Lots of guys from the old outfit are here with me, and many names that you would know. (I'm not listing them, as I think the censor will black them out.) Hopefully you don't hear from them, too.

I just realized I'm using the word hopeful a lot, but it's the only one I've got. Hopefully Yours, John

PS - There are a few guys here who are not getting mail. Can you share my address with Ma Brennan and see if she could write something? It would be nice to share a little of the news from home and let them know that they aren't forgotten.

She read it through three times, vision increasingly blurry, realizing, belatedly, that the pencil was getting on her fingers. Hopefully yours. She held it to her nose and thought she could smell pipe smoke, and it was the best gift she'd ever gotten.

Of course I'm yours. You're the only one I've got.

-

A big thank you to a friend who is asking to remain anonymous for sharing images of what POW mail looked like. Some of it was on pre-printed postcards and some was on a message blank, which is what I'm describing here. The big German word Fred can't read is Kriegsgefangenpost, prisoner of war mail. I also just found a website online that has a ton of pictures of what this looked like.

[cheynovak]

Coral and Clover

 

Boaz Priestly x F/Reader (Y/N)  

Warnings: Friends to lovers, Mentioning of sexual assault, alcohol, She/Her/ YN, ...  

Side note: English isn’t my first language.  Be kind please 

Words: 3367 

I love Danneel but Tish is a bitch in this story... I'm sorry

Didn’t proofread, sorry for any mistakes. 

*Does not follow the original storyline!* 

---------------- 

Intro:  

Y/N is an old schoolmate of Tish, but the two girls never seemed to get along very well. Tish being the all-American sweetheart cheerleader, and Y/N being the alternative girl who drove an old muscle car and listens to loud music. Tish was popular because of her looks, Y/N had friends because her dad has money. Both girls couldn’t be more different. Yet they had one thing in common.  

Steve 

Steve was the lead singer of a little local rock cover band. Popular with the ladies because well... He was the lead singer. Y/N was his guitarist and backing vocal when needed, his best friend and yeah you guessed it he was her crush. Steve seemed to only be interested in one high school girl, Tish.  

One night after a local gig Y/N and Steve spend a night together, he guaranteed he and Tish broke up. But the next morning she woke up to pictures of her in her underwear on his myspace account. When she confronts him with it, he took advantage of her. Making the rest of her senior year a living hell.  

-- 

“Welcome to Beach City Grill. What can I get... You” Tish recognised her in an instant. “Y/N” - “Tish, hi. Eh, what can you recommend?” Tish didn’t answer which made the staff behind the counter look at the person who dropped the temperature in this sunny place to below zero.  

“The roast turkey's really good here.” Piper said breaking silence. “Great, I’ll have that... please.” - “To go?” Tish asked. “Eh no, eat in.” - “Since when are you back in town?” - “Just for a few nights. We have a gig in town.” Y/n answers while paying.  

“You can take a seat, we’ll bring it to you.” The only guy in the shop said. Y/N immediately notice his eccentric style. She loved it when people didn’t play by the books. Priestly dropped the plate in front of Tish “I’m not bringing that to her.” He looked confused “Why not?” - “We don’t get along.”  

Priestly looked at Piper and Jen lifting his shoulder and walking behind the counter to deliver the sandwich, “Here you go. One roast turkey.” - “Thanks! By the way I love what you did with your hair.” Y/N could see how he wasn’t sure she meant it or if it was a joke. “It was a compliment.” She smiles softly “Thanks! I like yours too.”  

He turned to his friends, surprised yet happy, lifting his brows, big eyes. “She digs my hair.” he repeated to Tish while leaning on the counter looking at her. “Why do you hate her? She seems nice.”  

She rolled her eyes. “We used to go to the same school. I had a boyfriend who was in college.” -” Of course you do.” Priestly added. “He was a lead singer of a little band, quite popular at the time. She was the guitarist. The only girl in the band.”  

“Let me guess, they slept together, and you found out?” Jen asked. “Not only that, but she also let him take pictures of her naked ass. Posted it on myspace and then files a complain that he raped her.” Priestly frowned his brows “Why would she post those pictures?” - “Attention? I don’t know. But Steve had to go to court because of that.” 

“Oh, and side note.” she added “Her daddy owns one the largest law firm in the era. Little convenient don’t you think?” Priestly kept looking at the girl, what Tish just said didn’t seem to match with the vibe Priestly just had.  

His eyes roamed over her. She did really look like a rock chick. Flaming orange/red hair in a high messy bun with a few loose strings of hair in front of her face, it gave him alternative Pam Anderson vibes.  

A black leather jacket with an old band shirt, he knew for a fact she listened to them. The shirt was knotted in the back, so it came a little shorter but didn’t show any skin. Just high enough to show the belt in her washed up grey skinny jeans. And black doc martins.  

“You’re drooling.” Piper laughed. He waved her away and wanted to stare back at her. But he noticed immediately she was looking at him with a genuine smile. Great she heard that, he thought. After a short while Y/N got up and brought the plate back to the counter. “Thanks, it was really good.”  

“My pleasure...” He looked at her. “Y/N.” you answered “Priestly” - “Priestly.” she echoed “It was nice to meet you.” -” Come back anytime.” He said while you headed for the door. “You know what, I might actually do that.” Y/N bit her lip while passing Trucker on the way out.  

“What did I miss?” he asked. “Priestly just had a flirt with a not so bad looking woman.” Jen said. “Of his own age?” Trucker joked. ”You can all laugh, but she liked my hair. She’ll be back, you’ll see.”  

And he was right the next day Y/N decided to go to the same shop for lunch. “Roasted Turkey?” Priestly asked the second he saw her orange manes, which were lose, hanging down over her shoulders today. “Eat in?” - “Only if you join me.” He looked at Trucker who didn’t seem to mind.  

The two of them hit it off right away. They talked about music, hobbies, life and love but most off all just had a no-nonsense conversation. “Ok ok, you’re clearly into a lot of rock music and genres, old and new. So, I have a question I need to ask to know if we are going to be friends.” - “Who says I want to be your friend.” She joked taking another bite.  

“Funny.” He added noticing they had the same sense of humour. “Elvis dead or alive.” She looked at him. “We’re talking Presley, right? The king.” He nodded. She pretended to think about that for a second. “That man is living his best life somewhere. Away from the drama and shit, just vibing the music.”  

“Where have you been all my life.” He dramatically placed his head on his hand. Which made Y/N laugh and throw her head back. “I have to rehears in few minutes but why don’t you all come to the show Saturday?” She said while paying to Jen but still talking to Priestly. “VIP?” - “I wish I could offer you that. But no, it’s in a bar down the street, we start after you guy close. It’s free entree.”  

-- 

Saturday night 

Only Piper felt like going to the bar with Priestly after her shift. “Are you even old enough to be in a bar?” He joked holding the door for her. The two of them took the last empty standing table in the corned next to a pillar.  

“Ladies and gents, this is one of my favourite covers we bring. Mainly because I would have sworn, they wrote it for our lovely guitarist Y/N. Here is Runaway by Bon Jovi.” Priestly noticed how Y/N shook her head, not really entertained by that announcement.  

After the show she walked up to the table. With a pint her hand. “Great you made it.” Hugging them both. “What did you think?” - “Amazing!” Piper was very excited but left pretty soon after, leaving her and Priestly some time alone.  

The bar started to get empty, Eric the drummer placed a hand on her back. “He is making a scene outside.” Y/N sighs “I’m sorry Eric, but he is not my problem anymore. I told him not to drink so damn much.” - “I get it, just maybe don’t stay at the apartment tonight. He is really upset about you.”  

Meaning her ex-boyfriend and singer of the group Tom was waisted, aggressive and blamed Y/N for the recent break up. “I’ll rent a hotelroom don’t worry. Thanks for the heads up.” She yelled when he walked outside.  

“Boy trouble?” Priestly asked. “Word of advice, don’t every date your lead singer. Fell for it twice doesn’t work.” She looked at her drink. “You know you don’t have to stay in a hotel, stay the night at my place.”  

Her eyes shot up, trying to define the meaning behind his words. He noticed it in an instant. “N-not like that. On the couch, or or I’ll sleep there you can have my bed.” He got nervous, which she though was really cute. “It is cheaper.” she thought out loud.  

“Oh no I’ll charge like a 5 star hotel.” Lifting the heavy mood. “Fine why not. Just know if you try anything I might go all Hannibal Lecter on you.” - “Ok Clarise”. On their way to his place, she told him the entire story behind her break-up with Tom.  

“What about you? Any special girl in your life?” He got shy, slightly blushing “Tish.” - “Aha, Tish... of course.” - “What do you mean?” - “Tish is... popular, always have always be.” - “You don’t get along, do you?” The conversation continues in Priestly's kitchen. “I don’t hate her, I hate Steve for playing both of us and well, other... stuff.”  

He noticed her closing up. Moving her finger over the cup she was holding. “You didn’t deserve that.” Y/N’s eyes shot up. “She kind of told me.” -” Of course she did. Tish had her story and then there is the truth.”  

“I had no idea Steve made those picture. And he posted them online. He had thousands of followers, a lot of kids from our high school. Guys started to think I was easy, or I did it for attention because my dad is a lawyer but never cared much about me. Or it was an easy win for money.” 

“I never made a dime Priestly, he was just ordered to take those pictures offline.” -” That’s it?” She nodded, I was stupid enough to wash myself after... the event. So, no trace of... you know.” He automatically wrapped his arms around you. “I’m sorry.”  

Y/N sigh “My dad said I asked for it, the way I was dressed, too provocative.” Priestly hummed in disbelieve. “And now I fell for the aggressive a-hole, and will be forced to find a new band, again. All girls this time, no more guys.”  

You both laughed soft about that comment.  

Priestly kept his word and slept on the couch that and few nights after. 

-- 

Y/N decided to leave the band and stay in town for a while, found a job in the nearest music shop. She even co-housed with Priestly, he was exactly the kind of nice guy she needed to bring peace in her mind. Even though they moved to a bigger apartment, living together became cheaper for both. 

Weeks turned into months. Everyone at the sandwich shop expected Priestly and Y/N to date by now, but neither really seemed to be into the other like that. Y/N made it very clear not to want to date anymore and Priestly well, he was still head over heels with Tish.  

“I don’t get it, you are a nice guy. Why can’t she see what’s right in front of her?” Y/N said one night during movie and snacks. “She is to obsessed with guys who break her heart.” - “Clearly. I always thought she would have found mister right and married by now.”  

“Tish can have anyone she wants.” She said in between eating her popcorn. “Exactly! Why would she choose me?” Priestly sat up. “I would choose you.” Y/N stopped stuffing her mouth realising what she just said.  

“I-I mean...” - “You know me. That is different.” He interrupted her. “So does she!” - “Tish doesn’t even know my first name. You do.” - “I always knew I was special to you... Boaz.” She batted her eyelashes before getting hit with a pillow. “You punk!” She threw a hand full of popcorn in his face. “Thanks for the compliment sweetheart.”  

Sweetheart... that word made her warm, fuzzy, hard to breath.  

The last few weeks Y/N started to feel different about their friendship. It all went so fast, meeting and immediately hitting off. Only she knew she could never stand a change, not against Tish. He was head over heels, and she thought what she felt was friendship until one night she dreamed that he had kissed her.  

Realising when she woke up how heartbroken she was that it was just a dream. Priestly was the type of guy she would never fall for, to nice, to kind a little bit of a dork but funny and protective as well. But the situation where she needed to find a new home and job forced her to accept his help.  

Leading her to falling once again for the guy who was not interested in her. He liked her, but she was sure he saw her just as a friend maybe as an annoying little sister. But he didn’t feel the same butterflies in his stomach when they brushed against each other in the kitchen or when they hugged.  

So, Y/N played the part she thought he needed, a supportive friend. Y/N was pulled out of her thoughts when Priestly stood up. "l’m going to bed, I’ve decided I’m going to ask Tish out on a date tomorrow.” Her heart dropped.” Hands on approach huh? Great! Good luck!” It took all the strength she had to say those words and sound like she means it.  

--  

The next day Y/N decided to visit her friend at work walking right in when Tish kissed his lips. A breath hitched in her throat, at first, she thought Tish kissed yet another guy, feeling bad for Priestly until she noticed that was him!  

He saw her at the door and looked exited. “She said yes.” Her eyes looked him up and down, not as thrilled as he expected her to be. “What’s wrong?” - “W-What happened?” - “I asked her out she said yes.” -” God no, to you? Where is your hair, piercings, clothing?!”  

Priestly didn’t understand her frustration. Y/N turned to Tish. ”So, when he was just him, he wasn’t good enough for you but now you want to date him?” - “What’s your problem Y/N?” She bit back. “You don’t change yourself for someone else. You shouldn’t change. Y-you're perfect the way you are, were.”  

“It was time to grow up.” He said soft. “Growing up means knowing it is ok to be different, not turning into a clone of Fred, Ted, Ed, whatever their names were.” She referred to all the exes Tish had. “I thought you were better than that Priestly.”  

Y/N shook her head. “I thought you were different, and I don’t mean just clothing.” Tears started to gather in her eyes. “I thought you were different than the men I know. You just don’t care as long as you get the hot chick right? Who cares what’s on the inside!”  

“Good to know.” Y/N didn’t give him time for response and walked out of the shop. Priestly turned to Trucker, Piper and Jen. “What did I do?” - “You are really blind aren’t you.” Piper said. “She is love with you.” Jen added.  

“Y/N? No!” He couldn’t believe that he looked back at the door she just walked out and back to Tish. Who tried to look neutral. “Is she?” he asked more to himself.  

After his shift Priestly rushed home, hoping to find her there but she wasn’t. She stayed away for days. Leaving Priestly torn apart. He liked being with Tish, it was like a dream come through, but he missed his friend.  

Tish and Priestly went out for dinner one night. “Will you stop worrying for one night?” Tish asked pissed. “Day in day out it’s Y/N, Y/N, Y/N. She clearly doesn’t support us. Let her go.” - “Tish come on, she is my friend.” - “You barely know her.” - “I know more than you think, we told each other everything.”  

“Well, I’m glad she moved out. I don’t want you to live with her. Before you know it, she blames you of something, all out of jealousy.” Priestly shot her an angry look. “What?!” He hoped he didn’t hear her correct. “You heard me.”  

“Do you have any idea what she went through? How can you as a woman even say something like that?” He got up, “This isn’t working. I can’t have you saying, no even thinking stuff like that about her.” - “Really? So, you chose her?” - “I don’t, I-I don’t know, I do know that she never, ever said shit about you.”  

“And, yes, I miss her. Every second even when I’m around you. I didn’t miss you when I was with her.” Saying those words out loud made Priestly realise what a fool had been. He pushed his feelings away convinced Tish was his dream girl while he had spent the last months with his dream girl without knowing.  

“I’m sorry.” he said while walking out on her.  

--  

Priestly found Y/N the next day at the store she worked. Tuning a guitar. She noticed him walking in. “I’m working.” she blocked him before he could even talk. “Please, give me a chance to explain... Come home tonight. Please.” Y/N rolled her eyes. “Fine.”  

Y/N walked in the apartment noticing candles lit, smelled her favourite oven dish. When she walked into the kitchen, she saw a familiar shirt “I sell crack for the CIA.” Y/N quoted looking at him while he placed the dish on the table.  

“Where is the new Boaz?” Y/N asked not yet convinced, leaning in the door opening. “He is gone.” He walked closer to her “I realised you were right. I look way sexier with green hair.” Y/N let out a laugh combined with a deep breath. ‘Idiot.” she pushed him a step back. 

“No, I'm serious, I broke up with Tish.” - “You did? Why?” - “Turnes out my best friend was right. I don’t need to change to find someone who loves me.” he took a deep breath, “and I realised I was blind to see that she was standing right in front of me. Maybe I didn’t see it because it was just so easy between us.” He moved a lock of hair out of her face.  

“Can you forgive me?” He asked soft almost in a whisper. Y/N swallowed, feeling nervous and started to talk really fast. “Just don’t change anymore, or no... you can.. I-I mean, you can change if YOU want that, just don’t change for any...”  

Priestly shut her up by pressing his lips onto hers holding her with both hands behind, feeling her hair in between his fingers.  

“Ok.” he said letting go of her. “ok.” she echoed. “Priestly?” -”Hm?” - “I do think you are sexier with green hair. ”Y/N said while pulling him in by the back of his neck, biting her lip. The second kiss deepened quick. “If I had know this felt so good, I would have kissed your months ago.” He admitted out of breath.  

“Look.” Y/N pointed at window that showed their reflection very clearly against the darkness outside. “Coral and Clover, orange and green... Match made in heaven.” He kissed the temple of her head while watching. “Fuck I was really blind wasn’t I.” He chuckled. 

He saw her looking up at him. ”You’ll find a way to make it up to me.” She said her lips almost touching his, teasing, her brows raised quickly while she walked past him towards the bedroom. Taking off her shirt.   

It took him a second to process before he rushed to take off the apron, leaving it somewhere in the kitchen before he followed her.  

Hearing her teasingly yell.  

“Are you coming Priestly?” 

[valfeathers]

I would love your headcanons for all of the Wammy boys.

ok!! finally got around to it! sorry abt the wait lol

ok so i’m going to condense these & limit myself for now,, but anyways here’s a little something abt each of the boys

there's more art at the very bottom of this text btw :)

(consulting my wammy boy google doc)

A -

he was the in-house music/pop culture expert. if you needed a music recommendation you could go to him and he'd definitely find you something.

he was a master violinist, but after being scouted for wammy's he set his sights on the guitar and spent years learning how to play. his fingers were pretty much always calloused because he kept losing his picks.

he never lost his irish accent.

B -

he was the reigning king of pranks. never turn your back on him, i mean it, he will hotwire your car to roll down a hill (true story, ask roger)

the thing that set him apart at wammy's the most was the fact that he would just. get the mop out. sometimes. it wasn't unusual to spot him cleaning something unprompted. clean freak b? clean freak b.

after A died, he didn't stay long. he couldn't stand to be under the same roof as L, and for the short while he was still in the house he moved around like a ghost, seething with just. grief and anger. he left without a word, or a note, or any sort of message at all.

L- (for everybody's sake i'll keep this one short)

he's been to his fair share of concerts, shows etc (i'm an 'L actually went out in public' truther till i die)

as teens, A & B helped him deck out his padded cell with posters etc to liven it up, and he never took them down. over time he converted it into a ragtag office

he and roger are not friends. far from it. they so do not get along. L still calls him 'codger' occasionally and roger gets reminded of B every single time.

Matt-

he cuts & dyes his own hair, and he definitely got into stick n pokes (+ bonus: the first time he bleached his hair, he had mello help him & the two geniuses forgot to use toner, so he wound up ginger. everything worked out, though, because he wanted to dye his hair red anyways)

he used to creep downstairs at ungodly hours and raid the newly stocked dining hall for cereal. he has run into L multiple times doing this.

he gives me 'broke his arm as a kid and had to wear a cast' vibes. i can't explain it, that hc just calls to me.

Mello-

like L, he got into his fair share of scraps as a kid. they've bonded over that. (+bonus: he has bitten someone before)

he was fiercely protective of matt & near when he was younger in an 'only i can bully them' kind of way that is so common with siblings.

labb gives me an excuse to imagine him as a big reader so that's what i'm doing! he read the classics as a kid & he wrote in his off time too,, he has dozens of journals that will never see the light of day.

Near-

he arrived at wammy's very young, he was actually the youngest wammy alumni on record.

i haven't gotten the opportunity to draw him with it yet, but i hc him as a cane user! a cane that linda customized for him at L's request. (from now on i Will include it in all of my near art istg)

out of the successor trio, he's the only person who was around when A was alive. he has one vague memory of A, that being A giving him a tiny wordless wave.

thank youu thankyouthankyou if you made it this far omg!! this took me a while but it was fun! have some domestic-y family-y wammy boy art to rest ur eyes after that little novella

[galedekarios]

I pretty much consider you the expert in all things Gale so what is the current state of play with his romance route in terms of the bugs, scenes triggering? I really wanted to romance him as a 'what if' route but this stupid recent bug ruined my main first run where they were just friends with that damn stargazing bug we all keep getting where I had exceptional approval as non-romance and he said him and my Tav weren't close which really disappointed me as I consider their friendship just as important as any romance and that's been ruined for me now for my first run. Not to mention him telling Tav off for taking Raphael's offer before he had even offered. As it currently is, would you recommend holding off starting a Gale romance run for now and waiting for fixes or at the moment can decent progress be made? I really want to do it but I'm worried that nothing is going to trigger now. Thank you for your help either way! So disappointed all this messing around with him is causing issues in so many areas.

first of all i'm so sorry you had to wait so long, anon! i really hope you'll see this message. second, thank you for trusting me with this. it took a while to test because i had to nuke my old playthrough. it was so extremely bugged.

but to the good news.

i am happy to report that the gale romance is working again:

HOWEVER: i had to do jump through hoops to get it. i'm rn only using hirelings, in addition to (obvs) gale. i suspected the game is still having big problems with romance flags and it seems i was right. in my previous save i was close to several other companions like wyll, shadowheart, lae, halsin, etc., even though i didn't pursue them as alton. but they were still on high approval. it absolutely sucks that you have to completely avoid recruiting or talking to other companions to correctly trigger a romance scene at the moment.

the game is so extremely quick to assume that you are in a relationship after asking basic questions (halsin and karlach, for instance).

also sad to report that there's still no sign of the purple blanket that larian said was put into the game like, what? one patch and two hotfixes ago or something.

so all in all, i would say go for it if you can stomach playing with only hirelings alongside your chosen li. if you do want to take literally anyone else along and live for party dynamics then i would advise you to wait until larian gets a handle on things.

[m1ckeyb3rry]

Pomegranate Ink: XXV

Series Synopsis: Unable to heal but willing to fight, with a fiancé in Kyoto and a last name that looms over everything you do, you accept an offer to study at Tokyo Jujutsu Tech. What you did not know was that your salvation and your ruination alike would soon join you at the school, neatly wrapped in the form of a boy followed by death.

Chapter Synopsis: A veil comes down in Shibuya, with tragic consequences.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Yuta Okkotsu × Female Reader

Chapter Word Count: 9.8k

Content Warnings: angst, misogyny, naoya zenin, forbidden relationships, canon-typical violence, character death, original characters included

A/N: ok i’m ngl i doubt this is what you all are expecting when it comes to shibuya pomegranate ink version but oh well it does what it needs to for narrative purposes. sorry

“The situation is definitely strange,” you said, using one of the needles you hadn’t cursed yet to clean under your nails. “I mean, what reason would there be to put a curtain down on Shibuya?”

“I don’t know,” Tullia said. “A part of me is worried, because this is so out of the ordinary, but at the same time, can you believe it? This is my first mission since my promotion!”

Ever since your classmates had heard that you and Todo had recommended them for Grade 1 status, they had been over the moon about it. Maki, especially, had been close to tears when she heard the news, hugging you tightly and thanking you over and over again for it. You had assured all of them that you really believed they deserved it and weren’t just doing it because they were your friends, and from that moment onwards they had been showing off in front of you, like they wanted to prove that they were worthy of the designation.

“Unfortunately, it doesn’t count towards one of your supervised missions. I’m the one who gave you your initial recommendation, so I can’t give you another one, you see,” you said. Tullia shrugged.

“It’s okay. I’ve missed working with you, so it’s not a big deal! It’ll be just like old times,” she said. You wiped off the needle and then cursed it before putting it away with the rest of them, making sure the pouch was securely closed and then setting it in your pocket where it usually stayed.

“Hopefully, Gojo’s able to take care of it and we don’t have to do anything. As much as I’d love to go on a mission with you again, I don’t know if I like the situation here. If I had my way, we’d be somewhere else, doing nothing,” you said.

“Can you detect something with your cursed signature detection?” she said. You shook your head.

“Not with that veil in the way. I’m sure if we go in, I’ll be hit with it all at once,” you said.

When a mysterious veil had fallen over Shibuya station, several sorcerers had been called to the scene. There were five teams that you could think of off the top of your head, though you knew there were a couple of other, unrelated sorcerers also around: one consisted of Naobito, Maki, and Nobara, another was Nanami, Megumi, and Ino, a third was Mei Mei, her brother Ui Ui, and Itadori, the fourth was Kusakabe and Panda, and the final team was you and Tullia. However, all of you were meant to be on standby — Gojo was the one who would go in and take care of things. He was strong enough to do whatever it took, so you weren’t worried.

“Oh, so you’re just generally having a bad feeling,” Tullia said.

“Aren’t you?” you said. “This whole thing isn’t right, especially since Mechamaru was revealed to be a traitor. There’s something going on, and I don’t doubt that those disaster curses have something to do with it.”

“It’s Gojo, though. Do you really think he’ll have any issues, even if he is fighting those things?” she said.

“That’s actually very fair,” you said. “You’re right, I’m worrying about nothing. Sorry to bring down the mood.”

“Not at all. I’d be surprised if you weren’t worried; after all, our team is just the two of us, so if we have to go in, then we only have each other to trust,” she said.

“There’s no one I’d rather have by my side,” you said. It made sense that you and she were assigned together once again; she was the reason you could use Composition, so there was no better place for her than with you. Besides, your techniques worked well together, as you specialized in ranged attacks and she was stronger in close combat, making you effective at fighting alongside one another.

“When will we know to go inside?” Tullia said. “I don’t want us to be late or anything.”

“I’m sure one of the assistant managers will let us know,” you promised. As if you had summoned them just by speaking, your phone rang. When you looked at the caller ID, it showed Ijichi’s contact, his picture the selfie you had taken of the two of you when he had dropped you off on your first official mission as a Grade 1 sorcerer proper.

“It’s time now,” he said briskly, hanging up before you could even say anything. You didn’t blame him; he had to pass on the same message to the others, and there was no time for politeness in such high-stakes situations. Instead, you put your phone away and turned back to Tullia.

“Ijichi says it’s time. Are you ready?” you said. She patted herself down.

“Tetrodotoxin, cyanide, good old bleach, arsenic, and — look what Gojo got for me to celebrate my promotion!” she said, pulling out a glimmering glass bottle. “Botulinum toxin! It’s the stuff they use for botox, but apparently in large doses it’s one of the most poisonous biological substances known. This is definitely going to be good.”

You grimaced. “Please keep that close to you at all times. It’ll kill anyone else that comes in contact with it.”

“I know, I know. I’m very responsible with my poisons, both because some of them are massively expensive and because they’re so dangerous to other people,” Tullia said. “Do you have everything?”

“I’ve cursed all of my needles,” you said. “That’s all I can do.”

“Let’s get going, then. We shouldn’t waste time,” she said.

“Wait. Tullia, you’re sure about this? I’m a Grade 1 sorcerer, so I have to go, but you’re just a student. You can stay back if you want,” you said. “I always ask so much of you, and you always put me first. You can decide not to this time. I won’t be mad.”

She waved you off. “I’m a Semi-Grade 1 now, so I need to start doing this kind of thing more regularly anyways. Come on, if Ijichi told you to come inside the veil then there’s probably a real reason he did so, so we shouldn’t dawdle.”

“Okay. See you on the other side,” you said.

“See you on the other side, Y/N,” she said.

Then, before you could hesitate further or second guess yourselves, you stepped into the veil, leaving the outside world behind, taking that leap into the unknown without looking back — because you were sorcerers, and that was what sorcerers did.

Almost before you had even finished entering the veil, you were bowled over by the immensely malevolent presences lurking in the area. The concentration of curses was greater than you had ever experienced, even greater than it had been during the Night Parade, or maybe it wasn’t that there were more curses but rather that those which were present were on a different level entirely.

And that familiar presence. It was only because Tullia was there and things were so similar to what they had been last Christmas Eve, but you realized where you knew that cursed signature from.

“Suguru Geto?” you muttered.

“Hm? Did you say something, Y/N?” Tullia said. You thought about telling her what you had just figured out, but there wasn’t a point, at least not until you had more information confirming it. Though you didn’t think you were mistaken, there had to be some other explanation for the familiarity of the residuals beyond a dead man walking once more.

“Never mind,” you said. “Now, what should we—”

“Nanami! Y/N! Gojo’s been sealed! Did you hear me? Nanami! Y/N! Gojo has been sealed!”

It was Itadori’s voice which interrupted your thoughts, his screams echoing from somewhere far away. You looked at Tullia for confirmation, but it was evident that she had heard him too, judging by her blown pupils and the panicked set to her mouth.

“Gojo’s been what?” she whispered.

“Sealed?” you said. “I don’t understand. What does that mean?”

Gojo was Gojo. He was your teacher. He was more than that, actually, he was like a part of your family. Your whole family, even. He was the man that had saved you from your previous life and taught you how to be strong. He was strong; he was strength itself, personified. So what did it mean for him to be sealed? How did that compute?

“It’s probably temporary,” Tullia said. “Right?”

You swallowed, shaking your head to clear it. This wasn’t the time for thoughts like this. You were in charge of both yours and Tullia’s wellbeing at the moment, and you were in an incredibly volatile area. You had to set aside your emotions and focus on the logic of what was happening.

“I don’t know how it’s happened, but yes, that’s correct. No method of permanent sealing exists, so if the curses have managed to seal Gojo, then we can definitely undo it. We just have to find him and get him out of their grasp,” you said.

“That should be our priority, then, yes?” she prompted. You were grateful to her for the steady guidance, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to go on if you didn’t have her cheery self with you. It was not just her cursed energy that was so vital to your operation; her optimism managed to counteract your occasionally more pessimistic outlook, ensuring that you could think clearly even when you just wanted to wallow in despair.

“Yes. We’ll have to be careful, because if these curses were capable of sealing even Gojo, then who knows what else they can do? There’s no doubt that Mount Fuji and the plant curse will be here, as well as the patchwork curse that Itadori and Nanami had to fight, plus whatever other allies they have. Whatever happens next, it’s going to be difficult,” you said.

“When is it not?” Tullia said rhetorically.

“This time is different, though. This time, it doesn’t matter if we risk death. We have to keep going. We cannot win if we don’t have Gojo, so we must be prepared to give up anything and everything if it means saving him,” you said.

“Okay,” she said. “Where should we go first?”

“The station,” you said. “That’s where I detect the most signatures gathered together, so it’s a sure bet that he’s there, too.”

“Lead the way,” she said, downing an entire bottle of arsenic and then tossing it to the side, following after you as you raced towards the station at top speed, taking the stairs two at a time until you reached a tiled room which seemed to be devoid of anyone. Skidding to a stop, you motioned for Tullia to do the same.

“It looks empty,” you said. “But someone’s here. Be on your guard; whoever it is, they’re powerful.”

When you thought about it, this signature, too, was one you recognized. There was a hot, angry edge to it, pulsing with rage and fire as it stalked around the room in search of something to explode at. It was none other than the volcano-head you had met at the restaurant the other day, but for some reason, he was staying concealed for the moment. It was only a matter of time before he picked up on yours and Tullia’s presence in the room, though, and then you were definitely in trouble, so you put your finger on your lips and jerked your head towards the stairwell, indicating for Tullia to follow your lead. If you could just sneak out before he noticed you…

“You’re not the person I wanted to see, but I suppose you’re good enough for the moment, Y/N L/N,” the aged voice of the curse rang out as flames burst in the stairway, trapping you in the room with the curse as he rounded a corner and revealed himself, looking as grotesque as he had the day you had met the first time.

“Mount Fuji,” you greeted tersely. “You never told me your real name, so I hope you’re alright with me calling you that.”

“It’s Jogo!” the curse screeched, steam pouring out of his ears. “My name is Jogo, and don’t you ever refer to me in such a demeaning way again!”

The heat from the fire Jogo had set in the stairwell was so high that it was making your skin burn from just the proximity to it, so reluctantly, you took a step forward, away from the fire but consequently closer to the curse.

“Fine, Jogo. What have you and your lot done to Gojo?” you said, brandishing a needle and holding it in front of you protectively. It was more a placebo than anything; you doubted a single needle would be enough to take out this curse, unless you were able to use Dissection and aim at one of the weak spots that would then be made apparent.

“Satoru Gojo? We sealed him in a prison realm. Who’s going to save you now, huh?” he said, leering at you with blackened teeth, smoke belching from the crater atop his head.

A prison realm. Well, that type of thing was probably the only reliable way to deal with someone like Gojo, but it made rescuing him a lot more painful for you. Even if you managed to obtain the realm in which Gojo was contained, you’d have to then figure out how to unseal him, and then you’d have to hope that the manner in which you went about doing that was something that you could actually manage to accomplish.

“We’ll get him back,” you said. “Don’t think that we won’t.”

“Not if I kill you here and now,” Jogo said, flames dancing at his fingertips when he spoke. You spun your needle between your fingers, a new nervous habit you had picked up on recently.

“It doesn’t matter if you do. Even if Tullia and I are gone, someone will get to him. If it’s not us, then it’ll be one of the others. I don’t have to be the hero who saves him. As long as he’s saved,” you said. “So go on. Do your worst, if that’s what you’re set on doing. But just remember that by killing me, you are forfeiting any chance of Sukuna coming to your aid.”

It was a bluff. You had come to this conclusion while you were talking: you did not want to die. Maybe it made you a coward, but you didn’t want to get hurt. You didn’t want anyone you cared about to be injured. You didn’t want to die. You didn’t want your friends to die. But your words were true in one way: it didn’t matter if you did die, in the end, even if you were scared to. You were not the one who would turn the tides of this battle.

Except there was something only you could do. Something that Sukuna needed you for. This was where your importance came from. That was why they wanted you. It wasn’t because you were strong. It wasn’t because you were a particularly talented sorcerer. It was because for some reason, the King of Curses had decided you were a person he could not kill.

Lava bubbled over the rim of the volcano on Jogo’s head, dripping down his forehead like sweat, his eye glazing over as the flames in the staircase grew to an all-time high. You grabbed Tullia’s hand and squeezed it, trying to communicate without words what you wanted to say. He’s angry. He doesn’t care. Get ready.

Discreetly, she took out another bottle of arsenic and drank it. You thought that it was just about time for the botulinum toxin, but it wasn’t your cursed technique, so you wouldn’t presume to dictate to her what she should and shouldn’t be ingesting at any given moment.

“You’re right,” Jogo said. “I can’t kill you, at least not until we awaken Sukuna and figure out what, exactly, he wants from you. But that doesn’t mean I can’t hurt you in the meantime, does it? Yes, that sounds like a good plan. I’m sure Sukuna will be pleased to see you burnt beyond the point of recognition, anyways; after all, I’ve heard that he harbors no love for you.”

You had no response to this. You had picked up on the intense hatred Sukuna had for you, too — it seeped out of his very being, so potent it took on a life of its own, like every cell in Sukuna’s body had its own equivalent dedicated solely to despising you, that vitriol braided into every fiber of his being. Jogo was likely correct; as long as you were still alive, Sukuna would probably delight at seeing you in pain.

“What do we do?” Tulla said under her breath as Jogo began to cackle.

“We fight, and we win,” you said.

“That’s it?” she said.

“Always is,” you said wryly. She scoffed.

“Do we just go improv?” she said.

“I have no idea what his abilities are, so we’re going to have to,” you said. “Do you trust me?”

“More than anything,” she said.

“And I trust you, so it’ll be fine. We can do this,” you said. “Just follow my lead, and I’ll follow yours. Deal?”

“Deal,” she said.

“I forgot!” Jogo said, clapping his hands together. “There’s nothing stopping me from killing her!”

He pointed at Tullia, and out of nowhere, large wasps manifested behind him, buzzing and dancing through the air towards her. You threw your needles at them, and though some made contact, there were so many in the swarm that it didn’t matter. Although Tullia tried to dodge and avoid them, it was futile — they followed her every step of the way, Jogo watching her keenly, watching how her feet slid against the freshly-washed tiles, and how she struggled to swat the insects away.

You took advantage of the moment to use Dissection on him, identifying his weak spots while you had the chance to. His eye, the volcano on his head, his jaw, and the nape of his neck glowed green, and you did not hesitate to fling a needle at him, aiming for the largest target: the volcano.

Right when the needle was about to strike, a chasm opened in the ground below him, spewing flames that melted the needle into a useless heap of metal at his feet. At the same time, in unison, the wasps emitted a piercing sound, surrounding Tullia, covering her entire body and then detonating, smoke and flame and ash billowing up in clouds around her.

“No!” you screamed, physically feeling the loss in your stomach. Tullia’s cursed energy, which you had grown accustomed to always being connected with yours, was suddenly gone, leaving you barren and empty. It made your movements unsure, your mind foggy as you tried to compensate for what had just been stolen from you.

Jogo took advantage of the moment to wrap one searing palm around your bicep, burning the flesh away with a smug grin on his face. You kicked and wailed, trying to pull free, but he held fast. You used your free hand to pull out a needle and stab it into his hand, but it was like you were suffering from a withdrawal or a hangover. You had grown so adapted to Tullia’s cursed energy that without it, you were nothing. You couldn’t do anything. You had been healing and fighting when you were only supposed to do one, and now that you didn’t have a buffer there to deal with the repercussions of it, you were facing them all at once.

“Let go of me!” you sobbed. Purple blood streamed from Jogo’s hand as you dragged the needle through his wrist, and he growled at you, upping his temperature so that this needle, too, evaporated into nothingness.

“I don’t think so,” he hissed. “You’ve been an impertinent little bitch, and even though I can’t kill you, I’m going to make you wish you were dead.”

“She said to let go!” a familiar voice said, and suddenly a fist was ramming into Jogo’s head, knocking him back and sending him flying across the room. He slammed into a wall, and cursed energy flared through your body once more. “Use Composition on your arm before you lose it, quickly! I’ll be fine, I’ve had enough poison that you could probably heal an entire army and I’d be alright.”

“Tullia?” you said. “How did you—?”

“As soon as I saw him using fire, I dosed up on arsenic,” she said as you took a tiny bit of her energy to heal your arm, which Jogo had burnt to the bone. The flesh and muscle regenerated around it, not even a scar left due to the perfection of Composition as a Reverse Cursed Technique. “It’s fire resistant, so I was able to survive the insects’ initial onslaught. It’s not a permanent solution, but it worked in a pinch. Now come on and get your head in the game; you’re a Grade 1 sorcerer, for crying out loud!”

Her clothes were tattered and singed, her hair uneven and choppy, entire chunks missing from where it had crumbled away entirely. Her face and body were covered in burns, but burns could be healed, hair could be regrown, and clothes could be changed. She was alive, and that was what was important.

“Right,” you said. “I’ve been doing a bad job at showing that, haven’t I? Okay, listen, his weak spots are the volcano, the eye, the nape of his neck, and his jaw. He’s been melting the needles I throw at him, though, so I’ve been out of luck in trying to fight him because of that.”

“I guess you could say he’s too hot to handle,” she said with a snicker before composing herself. “Sorry. Bad joke.”

“Uh-huh,” you said, still reeling at her death and then at the fact that she wasn’t dead at all. She took another drink of arsenic, giving you a firm nod.

“I can probably go hand to hand and aim for those weak spots, but I doubt I’m strong enough to do any significant damage, and I don’t have Sukuna’s protection the way you do,” she said.

“No, you don’t have to do that,” you said. “I’m going to do it myself. You just have to protect me. Distract him when he starts to hurt me again, and I’ll hit him before he can even think about killing you.”

This time, you did not even wait for Jogo to attack first. You went on the offensive, Tullia staying close enough to you that Jogo did not dare send a wide-ranging attack towards her for fear of catching you in the crossfire. You tossed out a handful of needles to serve as a distraction, but like all the others, they liquefied once they got within an arms’ length of Jogo.

Volcanic openings appeared in the ground in front of you as you ran, spitting out lava at random. There was no time to think as you leapt and swerved — you were acting purely on instinct, each footfall nothing more than guesswork. The wrong one meant death. The right one meant survival. But who could tell which was which? The ends of your sleeves caught on fire at one point, and you had to beat them against your side in order to put them out, but even then you could not pause, not when you were so close, not when there was no escape, not when this confrontation could only end in one of two ways: your death or his.

You reached him first, punching him in the jaw. Without the specific refinement and cursed energy of your needles, it didn’t exorcise him instantly, and anyways he was a special grade, so one hit wouldn’t have been enough to do the job regardless, but it did cause him pain. You could tell because he groaned at the contact, and his mouth hinged open for a moment, hanging there as he breathed fire at you, more steam pouring out from his ears when he did. You ducked out of the way of the blast, and before he could redirect his attack, Tullia kicked him in the back of the head. You rolled to your feet in the meanwhile, digging your fingers into his neck, gouging into it, his flesh and blood stuck under your nails when you pulled away to backhand him and then flip over the volcano that opened beneath your feet.

You continued like that, the three of you settling into a rhythm of sorts. You would strike, and then Tullia would attack before Jogo could turn his ire upon you. Then, right when he was about to retaliate against Tullia, you would lash out once more. He was at a definite disadvantage, not because of skill but because he could not kill you. You knew for a fact that if it were not for Sukuna’s threat weighing on his mind, he would’ve annihilated you already. But he could not, not if he ever wanted to be successful in his eventual goals, and you and Tullia abused that fact, pummeling him without care, dodging whatever he sent your way — or sometimes not even that. You could not count the amount of times that one of you burst into flames, barely managing to put it out in time to keep fighting.

There was a kind of clarity that you felt in that moment. You were no longer Y/N L/N. You were no longer anyone. And neither was Tullia; she wasn’t a person but an extension of yourself, as you were an extension of her, as you were both two halves of a greater whole and Jogo was the unspoken third which you could not exist without. Dissection and Composition and the burning body in between you. The healer and the empty glass and the fire-like-wine which filled you. There would be no one to fight without him. There would be no one to heal without him. That was the truth of sorcerers and curses: you both could not exist without one another, like a cyclical, self-contained plague. Who would you kill if not your counterpart? It was in your nature. You were born to fight Jogo, as Jogo was born to fight you. And if not him, if not you, then another, and another, and another, until one side could possibly win — if a victory which led to erasure could be considered as such.

If there were no curses, there would be no sorcerers. If there were no sorcerers, there would be no curses. There was no curse theory or scientific backing to support this thought. It was just something you knew in that instant, as you fought Jogo. It was one of those things you felt, a truth that resounded in your bones as surely as the fire which danced along your skin every time Jogo counterattacked.

You were beating him. He was weak now, but still frenzied, still overtaken by the rush of the fight, adrenaline and arrogance overtaking his reason, his higher-order thinking. It shouldn’t have been this simple, but for that one precious second, you allowed yourself to believe it. You allowed yourself to believe that maybe you and Tullia had really done it, that you had managed to exorcise a special grade of this magnitude. You allowed yourself to believe that you could move on and return to seeking out Gojo now.

“Domain Expansion,” Jogo gasped out, raising his hands, not to attack but for another purpose entirely. He must’ve given up on not wanting to kill you. He must’ve realized that there was this other way that he could wipe you out without having to worry about you anymore.

“Tullia!” you shouted desperately, shoving at her, trying to push her away with all your strength, no longer worrying about Jogo. “Tullia, run! You have to run!”

It was too late. She gazed at you, and you could see in her eyes that she knew what was happening, that she understood it was too late for her to escape, just like it was too late for you. As a mountain began to form around you, she embraced you, pressing her cheek to yours, her lips to your ear.

“Until the end, we keep fighting,” she said. “Even if we’re in his Domain, we keep fighting. Right? We’ll weaken him enough that maybe — maybe one of the others can do it, can get rid of him for good.”

Your voice cracked when you spoke. “Yes.”

“Thank you for being my friend,” she said.

“Thank you for being mine,” you said.

“Coffin of the Iron Mountain!” Jogo declared, rejuvenated by the power of the Doman Expansion, even though by all rights it should’ve drained him further. As the Domain completed, you and Tullia found yourselves standing inside of an enormous volcano, rocks crashing down and lava bubbling in the corners.

“Hold on a second. You said that that curse could perform a Domain Expansion. What if it pulls that out? Does she have any counter to that?” Nanami said. “If she doesn’t, then it’s totally irresponsible of you to send her. Even more irresponsible than I ever thought you’d be.”

“Um,” Gojo said. “Y/N? Do you have a counter for that?”

“Wow, Gojo,” you said. “I can’t believe you didn’t think of that. Thank you for the concern, Nanami, sir, but as the case may be, I actually do have something I can use if things come to it, so I’ll be alright.”

You had learnt it from Noritoshi. He himself had never had the strength to accomplish it, but he had talked to you about it one day, back before you had even come to the school. He was the academic type, and he had studied the theory so carefully that he managed to explain that secret of the Big Three clans to you in the simplest way. He had been so skilled at explaining it to you, in fact, that you had managed to replicate it before even he could, much to his chagrin.

He had still been proud of you, vowing to work just as hard so that he could do it, too. The way that the Big Three clans countered Domain Expansions, even when they weren’t strong enough to lay out one of their own: you were the only outsider that had the knowledge, and even then it was only because you would one day be a Kamo. Though you generally detested the clans, you supposed you had them to thank for this one thing, for the reason why Jogo’s Domain did not immediately kill you.

“Falling Blossom Emotion,” you said, a layer of cursed energy creeping over you and shielding you from the flames and rocks of the volcanic Domain. Thus protected, you shifted to take stock of Tullia, knowing that unlike you, she didn’t have a defense against the sure-hit effect of the Domain.

Fire was licking up her legs and arms, but she was alive, determination sparkling in her eyes. The arsenic was probably the only reason she hadn’t completely burnt away yet, but you both knew that that would not last forever.

“You have a way to protect yourself?” she said.

“I do!” you said.

“Good!” she said.

“The arsenic seems to be protecting you for now. We just need to weaken him enough that he can’t maintain his Domain before it wears off, and then I can use Composition to heal you before we keep going,” you said.

“Let’s get a move on, then,” she said. “I can’t die quite yet, you know. I still have to tell someone that I love them.”

Together, stride for stride, heartbeat for heartbeat, the two of you did the exact opposite thing you were supposed to do when in a Domain: you sprinted towards the caster. The Lord of the Iron Mountain, the volcanic curse Jogo, that damned creature which you should’ve been fleeing from, but instead of doing that, you ran right towards him, you needles guiding the way, the air shimmering from the heat, the fire slowly overtaking Tullia’s body, her lower lip trembling from the effort of holding her screams in.

“You dare to challenge me in my own Domain?” Jogo shouted. “I will crush you like the insects you are! Let it always be remembered who the true humans are!”

He truly had forgotten about Sukuna, or maybe he no longer cared. The latter seemed unlikely, though; more accurately, he was probably so caught up with the rush of the battle that everything came second to the tantalizing prospect of winning.

Rocks came crashing down in huge landslides. They slid off the cursed energy of Falling Blossom Emotion without touching you, which meant that Tullia bore the brunt of it, raising her charred forearms to protect herself from the volley — but they just kept coming, in larger and larger quantities and sizes. But still, you kept going, kept running, because what else was there to do but that? What else was there to do but run?

“Y/N,” Tullia called out from behind you. “You have to be the one to do it! Keep going. Ignore whatever happens to me, okay? You can’t shut down again, because you are the one that has to do it!”

“Wait,” you said as a boulder twice even Todo’s size pinned her legs to the ground. “Wait, no, that’s not right!”

“Go,” she said. “If you don’t forget about me, he wins! Keep going!”

Elakshi was sitting by herself on a bench, slicing an apple and eating it as she went. You sat across from her, waiting for her to speak. She had been the one to suggest the meeting time and spot, so you thought it was only fair for her to say something first, but she waited until after her entire apple was finished to talk.

“Good afternoon, Y/N,” she said. “Sorry, I got carried away.”

“It’s okay,” you said, bemused at how intently she had been eating the apple, to the point that she had not noticed nor cared that you were there, too. “I think we both want to talk about the same thing.”

“Your weakness?” she guessed, using a napkin to wipe the juice off of her knife. “That’s what I’m here to tell you about, even though my classmates would be furious if they knew.”

“Do you think so?” you said.

“We have one more year of exchange events against each other, don’t we? I’m just making it harder for myself if I tell you this. That’s part of the fun to me, though, and besides you’re the one that saved me, so at minimum I owe you for that time,” she said.

“You don’t owe me. I was just doing my job,” you said. “I’d appreciate it if you told me what you and Noritoshi figured out, though.”

“Love,” she said, getting straight to the point. You almost jumped at the directness with which she now spoke. “That’s your weakness.”

“My weakness…is love? I don’t see how that works,” you said.

“Call it love, or empathy, or what have you. It’s all the same concept: we can hurt you the best by hurting your friends, the people you care about. That’s when you get distracted. That’s when you give up. You have a heart that bleeds for others, the kind of heart that’s always wanting to help someone else, but not everyone in the world deserves to be helped, and sometimes, you have to abandon your friends for the greater good,” she said.

“Huh? Why would I do that? What good is there in abandoning the people I care about?” you said. She wrinkled her nose.

“There it is again. That’s the reason why you threw yourself in front of that branch for Maki Zenin. That’s the reason I knew you’d fall for my bluff and try to heal me, even though no normal sorcerer would ever care that much about their opponent. There is no version of you that doesn’t jump before that branch, just as there is no version of you that doesn’t stop to use Composition on me,” she said.

“Of course not,” you said. “You’re my friend, and I care about you. And Maki is Maki. All I knew at that moment was that I could not let her die.”

Elakshi considered this. “Your emotions, your love for others, makes it impossible for you to see the big picture. You saved Maki in the moment, but you took yourself — a Grade 1 sorcerer — out of the fight, therefore putting everyone else at risk. You healed me in the moment, but you left yourself and Tullia vulnerable to my retaliation. I admire you, and this definitely isn’t me saying that you aren’t strong or something, but if you ever want to work past this, then you have to come to terms with the fact that there will be times when you can’t protect someone.”

“Maybe it’s because I’m meant to be a healer after all,” you said. “I’m so used to trying to save everyone that I end up saving no one.”

“I’ve been in a lot of hospitals in my time,” Elakshi said. “Can I tell you something I’ve learned? Even the best doctors can’t save everyone. In truth, I doubt anyone can.”

You had to leave Tullia behind. You had to exorcise this curse here and now, and to do that, you had to leave her to what very well could be her death. You had to keep going, had to keep running, and when you reached Jogo, you would have to kill him. There was no way around it. That was simply what you had to do.

You reached him and stabbed a needle into his throat before he could even think to melt it. He uppercutted you in return, and then it became the most lethal sparring match you had ever been in, every movement a brush with death, every second weakening you and strengthening him. Now that you were in his Domain, the roles had reversed. You could not keep up, and furthermore, Tullia’s energy was waning. She was dying, actively dying, and it did not just have a mental effect on you but a physical one, too: without those extra reserves to boost you, you grew exhausted at an exponentially faster rate.

Finally, Jogo reached for you, and you were not quite quick enough to avoid it. He grabbed your neck and squeezed, lifting you in the air and laughing as you kicked your legs and slapped at his hand in an attempt to free yourself.

“It’s time, Y/N L/N,” he said. “I’m going to set you on fire. I’m going to burn your memory into this world, so that you are remembered for years to come. Sukuna will be pleased with that, don’t you think?”

What did you even do now? How could you escape this? What could you even do? Your needles were useless against Jogo’s heat. Your only ally was almost dead. Your cursed technique wouldn’t do much good, either, as you already knew his weak spots — it was hitting them that was the issue.

There had to be a way. What was something only you could do? What was something that only Grade 1 sorcerer, Y/N L/N could do?

Peace settled over you as you understood, in that moment, the way that you could defeat Jogo. As Jogo readied himself to set you on fire, you strengthened Falling Blossom Emotion to defend yourself and then smiled, knowing that you could not care for the consequences of your actions, knowing that you could not hesitate or this really would be the end for you.

“Tullia!” you shouted with what little air you had left, praying that she’d hear you. “One last time. Nothing after this matters, so one last time, please let me take your strength from you!”

In response, your cursed energy lit up from the force of hers, as brilliant as the sun at midnight. The botulinum toxin, she must’ve had just enough power left in her body to drink it all at once, not knowing what you needed it for but having enough faith in you to go along with what you said anyways.

“Give it up, girl,” Jogo spat, the volcano on his head pouring out even more lava as you glared at him, Falling Blossom Emotion the only reason you hadn’t combusted yet. “That defensive technique of yours is about to fail, and then you will be nothing more than ashes. Why prolong your misery? You can’t do anything to me that matters.”

“I am Y/N L/N,” you said. “I am the girl who brought someone back to life. I can do anything. Composition!”

You clamped your hands down around his wrist, ignoring how your palms were burning from his body heat and holding them steady, using your Reverse Cursed Technique on him. It was an old factoid you remembered Ieri mentioning to you once, that Reverse Cursed Techniques were actually destructive to curses instead of beneficial, and you bet everything you had, everything Tullia had, on that being true.

Amongst all other Reverse Cursed Techniques, Composition reigned supreme, mostly because of its eponymous ability: the one which allowed its users to compose instead of just join. Maybe that was the reason it was so effective against Jogo, or maybe it was because of Tullia’s botulinum toxin fuelling you, or maybe you were really just that strong. Likely it was a combination of all these factors, but the reasoning behind it didn’t matter as much as the result did.

Almost as soon as you activated Composition, Jogo’s entire arm disintegrated. You thudded to the ground, the burns on your neck and palms throbbing with pain as you scrambled to your feet once again, resting your hands on his shoulders, pressing them into his skin. Your insides curled at the scent of your own flesh igniting, but this time, you did not falter, staring into his eye with the insane delight that came from the newfound mastery. His earlier vicious conceit had been replaced by naked fear, and this time, it was your turn to laugh at him.

“Composition,” you whispered, so quietly that he had to lean in to hear you. “Composition. Composition.”

Every single bit of energy Tullia had lent you, you poured into using your Reverse Cursed Technique on Jogo, watching as it ate away at his body, eyes glowing with the reflection of the fiery mountain of his Domain until he regained his composure enough to break free from you, canceling his Domain Expansion and stumbling towards the staircase.

You weren’t sure if he’d make it or not. You weren’t sure if you had used Composition long enough that he had reached the point of no return, or if he’d be able to regenerate again. You weren’t sure about any of that, but either way, there was nothing you could do about it anymore. You had used every last drop of cursed energy that both you and Tullia shared on him already. You couldn’t do anything now; you just had to leave it up to the rest of your friends, hoping that one of them found him before he regained enough strength to become a threat once more.

Crawling over to where Tullia’s body lay, you gathered her in your arms, listening for her heartbeat. It was there when you pressed your ear to her chest, faint but existent, even though her legs were a mangled mess of blood and tissue, her face and arms burnt beyond belief, dried bloodstains like tear tracks running down her cheeks and nose, a puddle formed from where it had dripped from her ears and mouth.

You hadn’t been careful enough. While fighting Jogo, you hadn’t considered how it would impact Tullia. You hadn’t considered anything bar the thought that you could not let him get away. Tullia, who had already endured so much, had been put through even more because of your carelessness, but she was alive. You had beaten Jogo back quickly enough that she had not vanished entirely in the desolation of his Domain.

There was no cursed energy boosting you when you picked her up. Your muscles and legs threatened to give out with every step, but this was your penance, your way of making up for what you had done to her, for how you had destroyed her as thoroughly as Jogo had.

“Y/N.” Her voice was weak and thin, barely more than a whisper.

“Shh, don’t talk. It’ll only make you worse. I’m taking you to where Ieri and my family members are stationed. They’ll heal you, and you’ll be okay,” you said.

“I don’t think Ieri can heal this,” she said.

“Of course she can’t. But my father, or one of my cousins, any of my family members, really, they’ll all be there and they can use Composition, so they can do it. It’ll be okay, so just be quiet and wait until we get there, alright? I know how much you like to talk, so please promise me you’ll be silent until we reach them,” you said. Your legs were howling as you dragged the two of you through what remained of Shibuya, the eerie silence of what should’ve been a bustling place.

“It’s Halloween,” Tullia observed. “I wish we had just gone trick or treating.”

“Didn’t I tell you to shut up?” you said, exasperated. “But you’re right, we would’ve been much better off if we had done that.”

“I had so many cute costume ideas,” she said. “Made a whole Pinterest board and everything.”

“We can do it tomorrow,” you said. “Once we’ve unsealed Gojo and he’s gotten rid of everything and everyone, we can all go trick or treating together.”

“That sounds nice,” she said. “I’d really like that.”

“Yeah,” you said. “I would, too.”

You almost collapsed by the time you reached where the healers were located, thankfully without running into any other curses or curse users. Even though your cursed energy was gone, your senses were still attuned to others’ signatures, and you were able to hide away whenever anyone ran past. That was probably the only reason you made it safely, and even then you barely did. Surviving for so long with zero reserves of cursed energy and no one to heal you, and then physically exerting yourself by carrying Tullia so far, all but wiped you out. It was only by sheer will that you made it to where your family stood, your father barking out orders to your cousins so that they were deployed effectively.

“Father,” you said. The entire ward went silent as they took in your appearance. Your family members, the people that had watched you grow up, the ones who still in the back of their minds thought of you as a delicate flower, a beautiful failure, looked at you, and you wondered what they saw.

You were covered in ash like fine dust, Tullia’s blood smeared all over you just because of your proximity to her. Your neck and palms were burnt, your collar and one of your sleeves nothing more than blackened threads. You were littered with bruises and scratches from where Jogo had made contact with you, and to top it all off, you carried a body in your arms. You didn’t look very much like a girl raised to be a silent lady. To them, you probably didn’t look very much like a L/N at all.

“Y/N,” your father said coolly. You set Tullia down on a free bed and then crossed the room, falling into his embrace. He was stiff, but he held you, and though he was not your mother, though he was not Gojo, he was close enough. He was still your father.

“I know — Naobito told me you chose not to come to the exchange event,” you said, clinging to his shirt, the smell of his cologne so familiar, reminding you of your childhood. “Why? Why didn’t you come for me?”

“You should sit down,” your father said, guiding you to a chair and pushing you down. You did not resist, looking up at him beseechingly.

“You’re here now, though, right? You’re going to heal Tullia, right?” you said. Your father glanced over his shoulder at her, and he did not even go over to inspect her before he shook his head.

“She’s beyond saving. We can’t do much for her anymore,” he said.

“What?” you said, scrambling to your feet, ignoring his protests. “What do you mean? She’s not beyond saving! I could do it if I had the energy!”

“Yes, you probably could,” he said. “You’re a prodigy with Composition, remember? The rest of us aren’t like that. The rest of us can’t do it. So why don’t you heal her yourself?”

“I can’t, either,” you said. “Not right now. I used up the last of my energy fighting one of the special grade disaster curses. She gave me all of hers so that I could win, but that leaves us in this situation.”

“I see,” your father said. You wrinkled the fabric of his pressed shirt in your hands, leaving dirty smudges on the pristine, starched white. He raised his eyebrows at you.

“You don’t have to heal her all of the way. Just a little bit. Just give her enough energy that I can do it. That’s possible, isn’t it?” you said.

“That’s correct. Even the youngest of your cousins could accomplish that much,” he said. Still, nobody moved.

“Well? Get on with it, then! She’ll die if we don’t hurry up,” you said.

“No,” your father said. You froze, cocking your head. Had you heard him incorrectly?

“...no?” you repeated.

“It’s the same reason the L/Ns didn’t come to the exchange event,” he said. “You claimed that you are not one of us. You chose fighting instead of healing. I warned you that there would be a consequence to that decision, and this is what it is. You fought, and now you cannot save a person that you love.”

“Yet you can!” you said. “I understand what you’re doing. You’re deserting me in the hopes that I come back, that I choose to be a healer instead of fighting on the front lines. But, father, I can’t — I can’t heal without her! If that’s what you want, I’ll do it. I’ll never fight again, I’ll spend the rest of my life in Noritoshi’s shadow or three paces behind Naoya or whatever else you want from me, but please. You have to save her. Just do this one thing for me, and I will go back to being the daughter you want.”

“None of the L/Ns will lay a finger on her,” he decreed. “Do you understand? This is what happens when people don’t accept their roles in the natural order of things. You tried to rebel against the place you were given, and now Tullia will pay the price.”

“No,” you said, tears brimming in your eyes. “Punish me. I’m the one who did something wrong, so punish me for it if you must, but leave her out of it. Please leave her out of it. She didn’t do anything. She saved me, father, she’s saved me so many times that I can’t count it. She is my Composition. I cannot use it without her. You have to save her.”

“If you cannot use Composition without her, then perhaps you are not meant to use it at all. No one can have both. Dissection or Composition; didn’t I tell you that you’d have to pick? You made your choice. I made mine,” he said.

“None of you?” you said, looking at all of your family members. The younger ones turned away in shame, while the older ones held your accusing look levelly. “Not one of you will go against him and save her?”

The only response you got was a lingering, resounding silence. The people that had raised you were turning their backs on you. You understood their message: you were no longer one of them. You were not a healer; you were a fighter. You had chosen your path. They had chosen theirs.

“Get rid of the girl’s body,” your father said. “She’s taking up space. We don’t know when the next injured sorcerer will arrive, especially since I just received word that Sukuna’s manifested.”

“I’ll take her,” you said. “But you will all regret this. I swear to you, I will make sure that you do.”

“Where are you going with her?” your father said. You held Tullia, taking comfort in only the fact that her pulse was shallow but steady, that she was still breathing, though she had long ago gone unconscious.

“If you won’t save her,” you said coldly. “Then I will find someone else who will.”

“There is no one else that can save her,” your father said.

“Actually, there is,” you said. “One person. There is one other person who can do it.”

Your father’s eyes widened. “You don’t mean—”

“I do,” you said.

“Y/N, think this over,” your father said. “He won’t help you.”

“Well,” you said. “It seems that neither will you.”

You were probably the only person in Shibuya that hoped he hadn’t vanished yet. You were probably the only person in the entire world that was actually happy to see him, happy to see those black marks still curled over the face which resembled Itadori’s so greatly. Because it wasn’t Itadori’s, this was as plain as day — even if the markings vanished, you’d still be able to tell the difference between your cheerful underclassman and the King of Curses.

“Sukuna!” you called out. He turned from where he was crouching by Megumi’s side, the expression on his face transforming from rage at your impertinence to rage at simply your being. No, he could not kill you, but it was hard to remember that in his presence, hard to remember that he still needed you for something.

“Y/N L/N,” he said, the name like poison on his tongue, ostensibly because it was a reminder of his first defeat, the time that he had lost to another woman of the same name. “How can you be so bold as to show your face here?”

“I know what you want from me,” you said, putting Tullia down and kneeling before him. Shock flashed across his irises, and his hands twitched, but he did not otherwise react.

“Is that so?” he said. “And what is it that I want from you?”

“A body,” you said. “Right?”

It was while you were using Composition on Jogo that you understood it. You were the only person in the world that could utilize the Reverse Cursed Technique to the extent that you did, so that had to have something to do with what Sukuna wanted from you. But what could a being capable of using his own Reverse Cursed Technique, even on other people, want from that? It was specific to Composition, that was clear.

“A body,” Sukuna said.

“You’ve manifested in a vessel that fights you every step of the way, but by using Composition, I can take someone else and alter them into being exactly the carrier you want,” you said. “Isn’t that correct? That’s why I can’t die yet. There isn’t anyone else in the world who has such potential with Composition, who will eventually have the power to heal someone’s body into another, more evolved form entirely.”

Sukuna was silent. You bowed your head, knowing that what you were offering was foolish and selfish, that you were all but spelling the world’s destruction with this, that in essence you were aiding the King of Curses, the most evil creature in the world. You were telling a monster you’d give him what he wanted, for the sole sake of saving one person.

“Please heal her,” you said. “I’ll give you what you want. I will compose the perfect body for you. If you don’t believe me, then I’ll even make a Binding Vow. Just — just please save her. I can’t do it without her.”

A deal with the devil. The world for your friend. Elakshi was right; maybe love was your greatest weakness. Maybe you shouldn’t ever try to save anyone. But you had to at least save Tullia, who had always saved you, and this was the only way you could do it. Your family had forsaken you. Your reserves of cursed energy were gone and would probably take days to recover back to even their base level. Only Sukuna was left.

“Just as I expected, you don’t know the slightest thing, Y/N L/N,” Sukuna said. Involuntarily, you raised your head and met his eyes, which were as red as the sky before a storm. He grinned at you, his teeth unnaturally sharp like demon-fangs. “I already have the body which I require, so I don’t need to make that kind of contract, with you or anyone else. Besides, how can you expect me to heal that girl?”

“What? What do you mean?” you said. As you watched, invisible slashes cut through Tullia’s body, thousands upon thousands of them so that her remains did not even resemble a person anymore, so that she was nothing more than a fallen heap of blood and cloth and poison sitting before you.

“As you can see, she’s already dead,” he said, and then he burst into a fit of deep, full laughter. You screamed in horror at the sight, something shattering in the back of your mind, in the corners of your soul — the link to Tullia’s energy, which you had come to depend on, was gone forever, and this time, it wasn’t coming back. Nobody could heal her now. There wasn’t even a her anymore, just scattered pieces of what had once been one of your best friends.

You couldn’t help yourself. You threw up, convulsing from the strain, your very body rejecting what had just happened. She shouldn’t have died. You should’ve saved her. There should’ve been some way, some manner in which she could’ve lived. When there was nothing left in your stomach, you dry heaved until you couldn’t breathe, and then blackness crept into the corners of your vision.

The last thing you felt before you passed out entirely was a taloned hand grabbing onto the back of your neck and the familiar sensation of teleportation. You were dimly aware of being thrown beside someone else, and then there were shouts — Ieri? Your father? You didn’t know — and then there was nothing. Blissful, calm, blank nothing.