#but its not an immediate right in front of them threat <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[nicki0kaye]

Route 2) continued

Zeb, Kallus and their crew of newbies decide to ditch the ship on Tatooine and, once there, surrounded by threats, Sasha is pushed to the forefront and is immediately salty that he lost time on a mission; virtually the only time anyone wants to deal with him, when he's at all useful to the group he's stuck in.

and oh great, Zeb got his favoritest person back (Kallus) and Sasha is just sure that once they return to base, they'll get right on fixing whatever hiccup forced him back out front because obviously Zeb wants to do missions with his ~precious rival~.

Basically Sasha is having a crisis bc he feels vestigial, unwanted and replaceable. Zeb bullies him into letting Zeb braid back his hair since its so heckin hot on Tatooine and his hair is a mess of dust and sweat. This is one of the few scenes where Zeb manages to connect with Sasha and will, obviously, be immediately threatened by more horrible things coming their way.

Primarily the ISB, who know exactly where they are and will be slowly closing in on them in the next several hours, trying to capture them as a whole. Kallus and Reysha strategize behind the scenes and basically force Zeb's hand in letting them do something dangerous for the safety of all the new baby rebels Zeb is personally responsible for atm. There's totally a chance things will go well and they can all reunite at the rendezvous, but I'm me, so you know they fucking don't.

Kallus/Mareysha/Sasha are captured, triggering a failsafe Zeb does Not Know about and that Sasha, technically, never agreed to.

It isn't a perfect thing, but it's a very thorough censoring of their internal database. Reysha has become extremely well versed in their own internals and with Kallus' direction creates a program that once run will remove ALL identifying information, rendering them useless as a source of information for the Empire.

Everything they know about the Empire remains intact, so of the three, Kallus has the largest chunk of uncensored personal history, but for the sake of the Kallus Crime Family back on Coruscant, his life before the Academy, the only life Sasha knew before waking up in a random forest to beat an annoying snake to death, is GONE. His first language, GONE. His family member's names, the repurposed factory he grew up in, his traditions and creed, even the context for his insult for Zeb; a 'Six' is gone. In the directory it's reduced to its literal translation; 'Lackey', because the context is an identifiable piece of culture the Empire could have used to infiltrate and further subjugate that region of Coruscant's underground and Kallus did Not want to give them that.

The life Reysha knew is also gone, because it's basically entirely secrets about the rebellion, but at least Reysha was part of that plan. Reysha agreed to pulling that trigger to ensure the safety of those they love.

Sasha was not asked, mostly because they both knew Sasha wouldn't have agreed, but we'll come back to that later.

aaand tumblr just told me they couldn't save the draft so I guess a part 3?

have I posted Lobot!Kallus? I keep meaning to I genuinely can't remember

vacant, only speaks when spoken to, has to be guided by hand bc his spacial awareness has been intentionally fucked with, is either In There behind all the programming, unable to jailbreak himself without permission which no one has thought to give him OR has been fractured so severely, his identity may as well be gone or only exists as a subroutine that only triggers under certain circumstances and is so buried by restrictions it's unrecognizable.

just things I do to my favorite characters uwu

[justablah56]

oobtaglor oobtaglorbur. babygirl you just gave me 8 consecutive heart attacks over the course of the last hour. and all you have to say for yourself is that you're a professional yapper.

[heliosunny]

you’re so productive like omg too many food in just a few days??!!?! ilysm u literally help soothing my downbad for phainon and mydei pls write more abt them especially mydei ToT looking forward for more wonderful works<33

anw an arranged marriage between mydei and reader who secretly loves him pls like they’re both sassy but obedient at the same time :3

Yandere!Mydei x Reader

You weren’t sure what surprised you more—the fact that your parents arranged a marriage for you without so much as a warning or the fact that it was with Mydei of all people.

Mydei, the warrior. The man of few words, sharp actions, and unreadable gazes. He was not unkind, but he was intense. And while he had always been close to Phainon, your best friend, you had never considered the possibility of marriage to him.

Yet here you were, seated in your family’s courtyard, watching the very man you were to marry approach you with the same unwavering steps he took into battle.

He stopped in front of you, arms crossed, golden eyes locked onto yours. You didn’t miss how his gaze flickered, assessing you the way he would an opponent before a duel.

“You’re not protesting.” he said at last.

“Should I be?” you replied, tilting your head.

His brow furrowed slightly. “You wanted Phainon.”

You blinked, taken aback. “Excuse me?”

“You look at him.” His tone was factual, not accusatory, as if he were merely stating the obvious. “You favor him. Now they’re forcing you into this marriage instead.”

A beat of silence. Then, unable to help yourself, you let out a short laugh.

“That’s what you think?” You crossed your arms, mirroring his stance. “That I wanted Phainon?”

“You never denied it.”

You sighed, shaking your head. “I never confirmed it either.”

For a moment, he didn’t speak, only watching you with the same intensity he carried into war. Then, as if deciding the conversation wasn’t worth dragging out, he exhaled through his nose and turned slightly.

“Come.”

“Where?”

“We’re going out.”

Your lips quirked. “How romantic. Sweeping me away already?”

He ignored your sarcasm. “We’ll disguise ourselves.”

That piqued your interest. Disguises weren’t uncommon for royals, it was one of the only ways to walk among the people without constant scrutiny. But the fact that Mydei was the one suggesting it? That was unexpected.

Still, you followed.

The market was alive with the hum of voices, the scent of fresh bread and spices thick in the air. Vendors called out their wares, children ran past with laughter, and craftsmen displayed their finest work.

Dressed in simple garb, you and Mydei moved through the crowd with ease. If anyone recognized you, they were wise enough not to say anything.

Despite his usual stoic nature, Mydei’s presence was different outside the palace. He didn’t speak much, but he was aware of everything. His eyes flickered to every small movement, every shift in the crowd, every possible threat. It wasn’t just habit, it was instinct.

You, on the other hand, took everything in stride. While Mydei remained on guard, you blended in effortlessly, casually glancing at stalls, taking in the sights.

“You seem unbothered” Mydei commented after a while.

“Should I be?”

“You’re marrying someone you don’t love.”

“You assume too much” you replied, pausing at a stand selling trinkets. “Tell me, do you think I should be weeping and cursing fate right now?”

He didn’t answer immediately, but his gaze darkened slightly. “I expected some resistance.”

You let out a short breath, shaking your head. “You’re mistaken about a lot of things, Mydei.”

He frowned, but before he could press further, a vendor called out.

“Ah, you two! A fine couple, yes?” The elderly woman at the stall smiled knowingly. “A gift for your beloved, young man?”

Mydei didn’t react at first, his expression unreadable. Then, to your mild surprise, he stepped forward and picked up a delicate silver hairpin, a faint red gemstone at its center.

Without hesitation, he handed over a few coins and turned to you.

“For you.”

You raised a brow. “A bribe?”

“A reminder,” he corrected, stepping closer. He reached out, and before you could protest, he tucked the pin into your hair with precise movements, his touch lingering against your temple. “That you belong to me now.”

There was no arrogance in his words, no playful smirk—just cold, firm certainty.

Your heart skipped a beat.

Oh, Mydei.

If only he knew.

The wedding was grand, of course, it was. Two powerful families uniting was no small affair, and every noble, warrior, and dignitary who mattered was in attendance.

You stood at the ceremonial altar, adorned in regal attire, jewels glinting under the sunlight, your hair styled meticulously with the very hairpin Mydei had bought you days prior. Across from you, Mydei was a vision of strength, dressed in traditional wedding garb.

Phainon and the rest of your mutual friends were in the front rows, watching with barely restrained grins.

“My, my, what a sight.” Phainon drawled, his hair glinting under the light as he leaned toward one of your friends. “Who would’ve thought Mydei would actually settle down?”

“More like, who would’ve thought they’d agree to marry him” another friend teased.

The jesting continued, and you smirked at their playful antics. It wasn’t that you didn’t take this wedding seriously, you did. But the lightheartedness of your friends eased the tension of an otherwise overwhelming day.

Unfortunately, Mydei didn’t share the same amusement.

While you exchanged vows, sealing your union before the gods, you caught glimpses of him stiffening every time Phainon or another friend laughed, every time they whispered something that made you smile. His grip on your hand tightened ever so slightly, his golden gaze darkening.

It was subtle, but you knew Mydei well enough by now to recognize what this was.

Misunderstanding.

The wedding feast was lively, filled with music, laughter, and endless toasts. You mingled as required, exchanging pleasantries with nobles and warriors alike. Phainon, ever the social butterfly, stole much of the spotlight, grinning as he recounted tales of past battles.

“So” he drawled, sidling up to you with a knowing smirk, “how does it feel? Becoming Mydei’s spouse, I mean.”

You rolled your eyes. “Why do people ask that as if I were shackled and dragged to the altar?”

“Because our dear Mydei isn’t exactly the romantic type” Phainon teased. “Tell me, did he at least try to woo you? Or did he just stare at you intensely until you agreed?”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “He’s been… himself.”

Before Phainon could respond, a shadow loomed over you both.

Mydei's expression was unreadable, but the way he stood—close, imposing, was anything but casual.

“Phainon.” His voice was sharp, curt.

Phainon raised a brow, clearly amused. “Ah, husband duties already? Should I be worried?”

“Leave” Mydei said simply.

Phainon smirked but raised his hands in surrender, stepping back. “Alright, alright. No need to get all territorial.”

As he walked away, Mydei’s gaze snapped to you. You only sighed.

“Really?” You crossed your arms. “You’re going to be like this today?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he took your wrist firmly and led you away from the feast.

----

The journey to your honeymoon destination was swift. As per tradition, a private retreat was arranged—a secluded manor surrounded by sprawling fields and quiet lakes, far from the eyes of the kingdom.

You barely had time to take in the beauty of it before Mydei finally spoke.

“You enjoy his company too much.”

You turned to face him, unimpressed. “Whose?”

He narrowed his eyes. “Phainon.”

A laugh escaped you. “Are we seriously still on this?”

“You smiled at him more than you smiled at me today.”

You sighed, rubbing your temple. “Mydei, I smiled at everyone today. It was my wedding.”

“You laughed more with him.”

“Because he was making jokes,” you deadpanned. “Do you want me to be miserable?”

He stepped closer, golden eyes burning into yours. “I want you to want this marriage.”

You exhaled slowly. “And what if I do?”

He stilled. “Then prove it.”

Silence stretched between you. Mydei was strong, a warrior of action, not words. He wouldn’t believe reassurances alone—he needed something tangible.

So, without another word, you reached up, fingers curling into the collar of his wedding robes, and pulled him down.

The kiss was unexpected—he stiffened at first, caught off guard. But when he realized what you were doing, what you meant, he responded with a fervor that sent heat curling through your spine.

When you finally pulled away, breathless, you smirked.

“Was that proof enough?”

Mydei stared at you, stunned, then exhaled sharply, his lips curling ever so slightly.

“You’ll have to prove it again.”

And this time, you didn’t mind.

[angeliteria]

saw this tiktok where a girl jumped out of her bf’s moving car because she was losing an argument, and i’m thinking of that with rafe and fem!reader but with a twist to it <3

✿ ⁺ 🎀‧₊˚🩹⋆ ✩

rafe had hauled you into his truck, slamming the passenger door shut. anger was pumping through him, and he hastily got into the driver’s side, pressing on the gas to drive away from the party.

he was mad at you for not only wearing a short dress, but was mad at the fact men were giving you attention because of it. you knew very well that even if other males were to give you attention or flash you a charming smile, they knew better than to ever approach rafe cameron’s girl.

but for some reason, that knowledge didn’t stick to rafe’s own brain.

“my girl is out here, dressing like a fucking slut!” rafe yelled, and you rolled your eyes, ignoring the complete fact he was going 100MPH over the speed limit.

you would be okay with getting in a car accident at this very moment. maybe he would kick in some conscious or decent common sense into his head.

“want me to dress like i’m fuckin’ amish or something, rafe?” you asked, scoffing. “i get you want control or whatever, but my style is up for me to decide. not my fault you’re insecure.”

rafe’s head immediately snapped in your direction, eyes bulking with rage and madness, like a bomb about to go off. “the fuck did you just tell me?” he asked, mindlessly not paying attention the road in front of him.

“said its a not my fault you’re insecure,” you repeated, grinning happily. “a man who knows what he’s secures with doesn’t fucking trip every minute — all you do is worry, and get mad at the attention people give me.”

“i’ll throw you out this fuckin’ car right now,” he threatened, and you shrugged, picking at your acrylic nails. “leave you on the side of the road for someone else to get you.”

“yeah, hopefully it’s topper or cameron,” you said, bored of rafe’s threats. when you date a guy like him for over a year, doesn’t take much to start yawning and getting tired of his bullshit.

“you’re a whore,” he went on, and you hummed, glad to see he at least had his eyes back on the road. “parading yourself around like some tramp. looks like i’m with a fuckin’ pogue or something.”

“said you’ll throw me out of this car, right?” you wondered, taking off your seatbelt, and rafe eyed you for a hast moment. “i’ll just do the job for you,” you unlocked the passenger door, throwing your stilettos and purse out before you could proceed with them.

rafe reflexively pulled you backwards by the back hemming of your strapless dress, his other hand stern on the wheel. “what the fuck is wrong with you!” he shouted, slamming on his brakes in the middle of the road, and put the car in park. he tugged you back into your seat, and grabbed your jaw roughly, forcing eye contact. “some sorta attention seeker, huh baby? just trying to piss me off more.”

“thought i’d stick to your word for you,” you told him, and he panted heavily, his boiled anger coming visible to you. you only smiled, flashing doe eyes at him while batting your lashes. “can you grab my purse and shoes, then? least you can do, rafe.”

he let go of your jaw, staring at you for a moment with thoughts toppling all in his mind on what to do with you. he got out of the truck, went to grab your stuff, and tossed it down on your lap when he returned.

“you’re some fuckin’ surprise, baby,” rafe said, continuing the drive back to tannyhill. “you’re in for it when we get back home.”

[sunshinebingo]

@gwynweekofficial Day 5, The path ahead - Future

A short mom!Gwyn fic. I've tagged it as Gwynriel on Ao3 but the "daddy" in this could be anyone you want it to be

Synopsis: Gwyn runs to her daughter’s rescue when she hears her scream, only to find out that the threat is much smaller than what she has feared.

Word count: 640

Read on Ao3 or below the cut

Gwyn was lounging on her comfortable swing chair when a high pitched scream yanked her mind out of the romance novel she was reading.

Leaving all reasoning and composure on the wooden planks of the patio, she ran in the direction of the scream, straight towards the oak tree under which her daughter had been playing.

“Please, please…”

With a pounding heart, she ran the short distance, begging the Mother and all the Gods that nothing happened to her.

It was impossible that something would approach little Catrin without Gwyn noticing or sensing it, especially considering that she had been keeping an eye on her from her seat at all times. But if anything did, she would make them regret it.

She rounded the tree and knelt in the dandelions before her crouching daughter.

“Are you alright baby? Look at me,” she said, failing at concealing her panic.

“Mommy?” Cat whispered as she slowly moved her hands away from the front of her small 3 years old body.

“I’m right here, honey. What is it?”

“Look, mommy. Look!” she added in another whisper.

Gwyn frowned at the hands that Cat began to carefully open. And inside, she found the cause of the scream.

“A fwog,” Cat said in awe.

A little frog sat on Cat’s palm, no bigger than Gwyn’s thumb. It was bright green with black beadlike eyes that stared at her. Gwyn stared right back at it.

“Is this why you screamed?”

Cat didn’t even look up at Gwyn when she responded.

“It hopped on me. Look, mommy, look.” She lifted her hands towards Gwyn’s face. “It’s so pwetty.”

“Very pretty, honey,” Gwyn half-heartedly echoed the sentiment as she gently pushed Cat’s hands back down. She didn’t want to take the risk of it choosing her head at its next destination.

She was about to tell Cat of how worried she had been, and to warn her not to scare her like this again. But her words died with a smile of her daughter. This precious piece of her that held her heart in her tiny muddy fingers.

The frog jumped out of Cat’s palms onto Gwyn’s legs, causing her to squeal. Cat giggled at her distress. Gwyn tried to stay still even as she felt the frog’s bulging eyes staring into her soul.

“Mommy, can we keep it?”

“Absolutely not,” came her mother’s immediate answer.

“But why?” Cat whined.

She looked at Gwyn with her big blue eyes and pink pouty lips.

“It is too teeny tiny to live in our house, baby. What if your daddy accidentally squashes it?”

“Oh,” Cat said sadly, placing her dirty fingers on her rounded cheeks.

She pushed her copper bangs back with that same hand. Gwyn made a mental note to cut her hair before it grew too long. Gods forbid Cat tried cutting it herself again and having to walk around with crooked bangs for another month.

The frog jumped again and landed in the grass. Gwyn released a heavy sigh of relief before Cat and her watched it hop away.

“Look how happy it seems out here,” Gwyn said, pulling Cat to sit on her lap. “I think it’s best that we don’t keep it away from its home.”

“Goodbye fwog,” Cat waved as it disappeared among the dandelions.

Gwyn leaned down and gave her a loud kiss on the cheek that made the little girl wiggle and giggle in her arms.

Gwyn pulled away with a grimace.

“You, my little love…” She hoisted her daughter up as she stood. Cat’s laugh grew louder, filling the early evening air and making it brighter.

“You need a long, hot bath.”

“With the pink shoap,” Cat loudly exclaimed.

“With all the soap we can find.”

And to their own home they walked, mother and daughter laughing all the way through.

[nina-renmen]

You’re Mine

Yandere Price x black reader soulmate au pt.2

pt.1 pt.3

Warnings⚠️: Yandere themes, blood, gore, empty threats, death, parents wanting reader to date within her race, family issues, profanity

summary: Y/n gets back from her mission but price is suspicious of her and catches on to her avoidance

“Stop nagging me.” Y/n barked out, turning away from her teammate as she prepared her dinner. A month had gone by, and soap was still nagging her.

“Not until you tell me why.” Soap huffed.

“Soap, stop-“

“You know, not everyone gets the chance to meet their soulmate.

”Soap-“

This is the chance of a lifetime!”

“I said stop!!”

Soaps voice died down. Your voice echoing throughout the halls. “Y/n?”

“I’m scared…” Y/n’s voice was barely above a whisper. “What if he’s not the man I need? What if my family doesn’t approve?”

“Y/n, why wouldn’t your family approve? I mean…sure he’s about a decade older than you but…” Soap trailed off, you were right. You would be his controversially young soulmate.

“Not just that…my family. My family wants me to marry inside my culture. Bringing him home would-“

“How do you know?” Soap cut you off. His form looking over yours. “They make hints at it, the one time I came over with a-“

“But they haven’t said it outright. Y/n I know your family. You’re thinking too much about this. They just want you to meet someone. Yes, preferably someone that’s in your ethnicity but it’s not a requirement.” Soap out his hand in your shoulder, giving you a gentle squeeze. “Talk to the captain. I’m sure price would be enthusiastic-“

“Enthusiastic about what?”

Y/n’s face paled. The two were facing the counter. The man behind them could only see the back of their heads.

Soap looked down at y/n. She vigorously shook her head no making the males shoulder drop. “We’ll com’on, what this thing going on between you two? You’ve been runnin around like headless chickens for the past mon.” Prices gruff voice reached the females’ ears.

Y/n turned around, soap followed. Prices gaze locked onto the female. He never noticed the colors in her hair before. It brought out her skin tone. “You look like you’re gonna hurl sergent.” Price commented, folding his arms over his chest. Y/n only shook her head opting to leave the room “oh no you don’t, my office. Now.” Price barked out orders. “I’m tired of you avoiding me. We need to sort this out.”

“Captin, I don’t think-“

“Don’t wanna hear it soap.” Price cut off the shorter male. Johnny casted y/n an apologetic look as y/n hesitantly walked past him. Price shot Johnny a glare before following after you.

Entering his office Price could see you settling inside. Or…maybe not since you were so stiff. You stood off to the side, hands clasped and a blank expression on your face. Y/n’s colored eyes followed his every steps like a predator.

“Have a seat.” Price said as he walked around his desk, sitting in his chair. With careful, hesitant steps y/n sat in front of his desk. Her muscles were tight, hands in her lap. As if she was a rookie once more, standing in front of a yelling sergent.

“You’ve been avoiding me y/n. Every time you see me you go the other way. What’s up with that?” Price asked, leaning back in his chair.

No answer from y/n.

“Look, I get you’re anxious but I can’t have someone on my team if they can’t even communicate with their captain.” Annoyance was evident in Prices voice. But he couldn’t be mad at you. For some reason he kept thinking about you late at night. He had to remind himself that he had a soulmate, he wouldn’t end up like his parents.

Still no answer from y/n.

Price was starting to get frustrated. “Look sweetheart,” Price chuckled, trying to simmer the frustration. He noticed y/n’s gaze on his lips, her eyes softened, her shoulders loosening ever so slightly. Price continued to speak “I don’t think this team is right for y-“

“You should smile more….Its cute.” Y/n’s voice was barely above a whisper, but her voice still reached Prices ears. Almost immediately the room quieted. A burning sensation was on John’s arm. “What did you say-“

“I’ll see myself out captain.” Y/n stood up, the chair behind her almost falling over. “I’ll ask Laswell to switch me to another team. Have a good night.”

John felt like he couldn’t breathe. You? You were his soulmate? For once in his life he was glad about soulmate privileges within the rules. The regulations let soldiers get intimate with eachother as long as they could prove they were soulmates. “Y/n wait! I didn’t know-“ The sound of the door closing cut off the older male, snapping him out of his daze.

With quick steps he opened the door, stepping out into the hallway. You weren’t there causing John to close his office door and search for you. His heart pounding in his chest, he wished he hadn’t chewed you out. He wished he hadn’t made empty threats towards you. He just wanted you to talk.

After an hour of searching for you he began to get frustrated. Why couldn’t he find you?! “Ghost.” Price called out, causing the taller male to look up from whatever he was doing on his phone.

“Where’s Cobra?” He asked in a rushed tone.

“Soaps room.” Ghost said before looking back down at his phone. John’s eyebrows furrowed as he turned on his heel. Why the fuck were you in soaps room. Jealousy swirled in John’s chest like a festering blister.

Price knocked on Soaps door. Within a couple of seconds Soap opened the door just enough so John could see him. “Where is she?” Price asked, arms crossed over his chest.

“Where’s who?” Soap questioned, playing dumb.

“I’m not fuckin stupid Johnny, I know she’s in here-“

“With all due respect captin’ she doesn’t want to talk with you-“

“As her soulmate I have the right to talk with her. Open the door Soap. That’s an order.”

The area became quiet. Soap glancing in a random direction in his room. The sound of soft, padded footsteps came from behind the door. “It’s okay Johnny.” Y/n whispered, making Soaps harsh grip on the door knob loosen. The door slowly opened to see y/n standing next to Soap.

The bare expression on y/n’s face seemed broken. She looked away from Price. “I want to talk….privately.” Price’s voice was softer than it was with Johnny. Soap casted y/n a glance as if encouraging her to go on. “Alright….fine.”

The walk to his office was…awkward. Y/n kept her distance from Price. But as soon as the door to his office closed Price spoke up. Y/n’s back was turned to him as she wrapped her arms around her midsection.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Price asked. His back leaning up against the closed door. “You made me believe….”

“I was worried.” Y/n spoke up. Turning around to look at him. She looked as if she were about to cry. Her eyes glossy as she looked down at the floor. “What could you possibly be worried about?” Price questioned as he closed the distance between the two of you. “Look up at me.”

When you didn’t look up at him Price hooked his fingers under your chin. Pulling your face up to look at him. “I’m not here as your captain. I’m not even here as a damn friend. I’m here as a lover. So don’t give me a bullshit excuse.” Prices voice was barely above a whisper. As if speaking too loud would scare you away.

“My family…I mean…the age gap between us is..” Y/n trailed off.

“We’re both adults y/n. There ain’t nothin wrong with that. Whatever they have to say they can keep it to themselves.” Price said.

“It’s not just that…My family wants me to marry in my culture-“

“I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding sweetheart.” Price said as he moved your hair out of your face.

“No….You don’t get it. I can’t loose my family over this.” Y/n said.

“Would you choose your family over me?” Price asked, forcing y/n to look up at him. Y/n didn’t respond at first. “Well? Would you?”

“Yes….yes I would.”

Likes, comments and reblogs are much appreciated

[ashloremystic]

18+ NSFW MDNI

One of these days I plan to finally publish a few books in this strange world I have created...But until then enjoy this little snippet into one of the MC's back story. (Please be nice. This is a rough draft that hasn't been fully edited yet.)

Little Wolf

Chapter 1

It wasn't unusual for brothels to house a mixture of supernatural creatures. It was a mutual ground and acted as a sort of sanctuary. It was part of what kept most of them in business. Patrons agreed to work in exchange for a safe place that also provided protection and immunity. As long as they didn't deliberately stir up trouble that is.

It also wasn't a bad place to hold up when Tim's Alpha sent him and a group of lesser dominant wolves out on a scouting trip to put down a threat that really shouldn't have been their concern in the first place. However....He thought as his fingers ran through the blonde hair'd consort, who was currently kneeled between his legs fucking him with her throat...The perks didn't seem so bad.

He preferred human mates like the wife he had back home, but as they agreed, he was free to do as he pleased on said trips. Sometimes trips kept him away for months at a time and with the call of the moon as well as his dominant nature, Casual sex while he was away didn't bother her much. The only rules were he wasn't allowed to get anyone pregnant, Talk about them, or fall in love and as long as he returned to her, there were never any hard feelings. Easy.

So when he and the crew he was over arrived at _ Brothel, Tim didn't turn down the _ who greeted him immediately with offerings of a warm welcome and release if tension from a long journey.

Edith the owner shooed him off. "Go we will talk rooms after." and laughed as he willfully let himself be dragged off.

Soft hands stroked what she couldn't fit into her mouth with skill he did appreciate as he leaned back on the couch. Her tongue swirled and sucking on the sensitive head moaning at the taste of him as she sucked him down. Damn did it feel so good and when she kept eye contact like she did....Staring her brown eyes into his blue ones as her face streached around him. He couldn't help but almost spill.

At the thought alone he started to swell. Like the good Concubine she was...she pulled back and stuck her tongue out while stroking till he spilled into his mouth and her face. Then put on a show of letting him watch her clean up the mess. It was hot and only day one of many here.

Once Tim had gathered himself together. He traveled the Jasmine, rose and lavender scents halls till he was back at the front entrance and found the keeper working on something. could be invoices...could be a grocery list.. The woman every time he's met her always had something to work on.

"James..."She greeted using his first name without looking up from her paperwok. "it good to see you again."

Edith had been over this places since her younger 20's when it had fallen into her lap after the previous keeper fell ill. She was tough even though her size at just 4/10 made her not look so. She had muscle under the silks she wore and kept weapons hidden in her butt length hair. Though the years have turned it gray it still looked just as healthy as she did with barely a wrinkle in her olive toned face.

"Its nice to see you again as well Madame."

"I see your father still let's your Alpha send you out on pointless missions."

"They aren't always so. But yes, you have seen right." He replied back to her as he leand over to see she was working on a bill. Of course she was. He listened in using his enhanced hearing to tell him what he also already knew, and that was the other wolves already sleeping with some of the consorts. Moans of pleasure as well as sounds of flesh could be picked out just past the music that meant to be discreet.

"You come with 4 other wolves. One who didn't seem so thrilled and 3 others who seemed average.." Her nose scrunched up.

"We are wolves...you know we aren't average.. The girls will be pleased to have company after business hours."

"They aren't of your bloodline." The short minx snapped. "average."

"Awe Eddie you wanna ride?" He purred as he leaned further over the counter smilling at her making sure to show dimples in those pretty cheeks of his. "you and I both know I'm a great lover."

Pushing back a lock of salt and pepper hair, Edith swallowed and cleared her throat.. "And risked my poor old self an early death...No thank you lover boy." She then patted his cheek. "our time is long past but I'll cherish the memories fondly. As for the bill!"

He deflated slightly but chuckled as he leaned back and watched her write down 5 rooms and then peeked back up at him expectantly.. "We will be paying for 4 months. That's our deadline but we may be out earlier."

"I don't give refunds."

"Yes I know. You don't give refunds."

"my prices have also went up to accommodate changes."

"Come on, we're doing you a favor too Eddie."

"Average men!" Her teeth snapped together." but she scratched out the original price she had and put a more reasonable one down. "there are rules. I will discuss them over dinner with the others."

Tim Nodded. "Yes I know."

"Early Dinner will be held at 7:30 in the Peacock Hall! Late Dinner is at 9 in the crimson den. As you are well aware that one is much more...spicier. You're free to roam all the halls respectfully since you are temporarily our protector as well. Court yards are open as well. Not every worker is a consort. You will be charged for every on duty client you partake with. how ever any off duty consort is free to do as she or he pleases."

"I'm well aware."

"you maybe but the newbies aren't."

"and yet It just me and you standing here love." He soften his voice as he leaned in to place a kiss on her cheek lingering for a moment. "Shame you don't wanna ride...we had some good times."

"Shoo!" She hissed. "Come back and pay after dinner." and thew a key at him with a room number. "your usual room. it's been upgraded since you been here last but should still be to your liking."

"Thanks Eddie!" He said as he rounded to the next room that had red and royal purple lace privacy screens on a few rooms.

"Wolves! Dinner 7:30 peacock room don't be late." He ordered as he walked past them and over to the stairs so he could seek out his room.

"Sure thing boss" One grunted.

.......

His things were already sitting beside the closet when he entered the room as he had many times before. It felt oddly like a second home even though he'd only been there a few times. Some for pleasure and others business.

Although upgraded, the room was still warmly lit and held the same comforts as before. It housed a costume bed that lined the wall almost like a nook with the big window that overlooked the front of the place. It helped not to feel trapped when he could see out front and the view wasn't so bad either.

To the left of him was a huge bathroom that had I huge tube as well as a separate shower..it size bigger now, made to have company just like everywhere else that had received renovations.

A knock sounded just as he finished walking the room. He knew it wouldn't be long before someone was sent up to accompany him.

"Edith sent me up with some refreshments and linens." A soft voice spoke from behind the door.

"Come in."

A pleasantly plump woman with sable waist length hair dressed in very revealing emerald silks came in with a cart that had a variety of snacks, ales, and fresh sheets on it. Grabbing the sheets, she placed them on the end of the bed. "These just came off the court yard hooks so they should be nice and fresh."

"Thank you." He watched as she moved with practice grace that was meant to command the attention of the clients and tempt them to partake. Like parading a forbidden fruit around. It was also a trick that was used to throw around scents. He inhaled using his senses to smell past the oils she wore to find that she was human. She also hadn't been touched by anyone else today.

Of course, Edith would send him ?what she knew he would like...Thinking about it she even favored the women slightly as well but there was no relation her scent told him.

"Anything else I can do for you?" She asked in a hopeful tone as she stood straight up and smiled at him. Her breast rising and falling as her excitement became more apparent. The scent of her arousal permitting the air.

"Do you have any other clients to attend to?"

She shook her head as she walked over to him and caressed his face. "I was told to clear my day." As she pushed him onto the soft bed and untied the top of her dress letting it fall so that her heavy breast were now exposed and right in front of his face. "She also said that it will be worth while and any other clients won't be missed."

"So she did warn you about me?" He asked as his hands grabbed her waist to pull her closer so his mouth could reach one of said breast and suck. Letting his warm tongue circle her nipple.

"There aren't only snacks on that cart." The consort replied breath now shaky as she watched him feast on her breast. Sucking and kneading before switching to the other as his hands massaged her hips."I...I've also brought oils."

Tim pulled back and smirked up at her as he pulled her body tightly to his. The heat of her sex could be felt against his erection through his jeans. "You won't need it." He wiggled just right so he could grind against the sensitive flesh that hid between her folds. drawing a soft moan out of her. As he steadily rocked the textured fabric against her clit.

Years of practice taught him just how to pleasure a woman. Especially for a wolf of his size, One had to learn quickly ways to make it more pleasurable. That meant making sure they were well worked up and from the spot she rode...He knew she was well wet enough..

It didn't take long for him to bring her close to coming. The shake in her body and the way she started to bounce keyed him to pull her away resulting in her whimpering from the loss of friction.

Rolling back slightly, he pulled his shirt off, showing off muscles that was a result of lots of training as well as his lupine bloodline. His body was also covered in scars from battles won over his life times of being his packs "business" Man.

"wow." Consort said as she ran her hands up his chest. "Theres so many of them." Her right hand traveled back down past his waistband, pausing when she felt the size of him that barely fit into her hand as she tried to stroke him.

He could see her contemplating what he told her earlier about not needing any oils or lube and took that time to flip them so she was now pressed back against the bed pulling her hands away so he could kiss down the length of her body till his face was buried in her mound pushing any doubts away with lust.

Tim took his time as he often like to. Starting with long licks purposely avoiding the ball of nerve that wanted to be touched again. Making sure to hit close to it or "accidentally" Lick over it a time or two maybe a third as his companion pleaded and begged.

Her fingers dug tightly into his brown hair as she tried to pull him where she wanted him most. That only resulted in her hands being wrapped in her silk dress at her waist as he finally lapped at only her clit this time.

"Oh please!." She cried out trying to pull free but she was locked in his hold and he had a hole to prepare.

"Come for me." He ordered and she did screaming out a prayer as he intended her too his fingers now streaching her as she soaked them. "good girl." He purred pulling her wrist free and scooping her up in his arms so he could carry her deeper into the bed. His jeans now long discarded with the rest of his clothes.

"When?" She asked.

"Just a moment ago.." He smiled showing her dimples. I'm fast where it counts.

"So I've learned." She said as she looked down between them and gasped. The head almost reached his navel!

"Don't worry it will fit just fine." He said as he pulled her by her thighs so her hips were up off the bed slightly. He positioned the head against her entrance while running his thumb between her folds teasing lightly. "relax."

"How am I supposed to relaaaaahggh" She cut off as he pressed himself in and kept going till he couldn't anymore, stopping to allow her a moment to adjust to his size. She was so tight around him but he had no issues sliding in as the foreplay between them had made sure of.

"Okay?" He asked looking down at her as he panted with excitement. The wolf beneath his skin restless now for the 'human skin' to release.

She nodded eyes half lidded as her body was clinching around him. Now begging for some type of friction.

He pulled himself out and then back in again with a few test thrusts, getting a feel for the flesh wrapped around him before he set a rhythm that worked for the both of them filling the room with the sounds of consorts moans and pleads.

Once consort's body adjusted enough for him to fit more of himself into her. He started to go harder...pounding and grinding againt her most sensitive spots until they both were tensing up nearing orgasm. The motion setting the beast within him at ease as the woman wrapped around their cock praised them.

"Come for us little human." He said he swelled and just like before, she did clinching around him... milking him as he pounded his release deep inside of her collapsing when he finished. Rolling beside her so he didn't hurt her.

"That.. was definitely worth it." The consort panted.

Tim looked at the time. "Dinner isn't till 7:30 and we are only just beginning." He purred as he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her back against him.

"Hmm?"

"They call me a good lover for a reason."

Want the next chapter? Thoughts? (Also sorry for any mistakes I've missed it hard to type on here)

Chapter 2 here

[wanderingblindly]

October Birds from Oscar's POV for the celebratory prompt fills if you're up for it 🥰

Congrats on hitting your blog milestones!!!

Hello lovely!!! I saw that you specified a cute scene, so I went with something... kind of cute? Cute in the sense that we get to see Oscar Thinking About Lando :) This is the "you've got grease on your nose" scene from chapter 4, aka the resolution from Lando running away in chapter 3. Hope u enjoy!!! Celebratory prompt list here!

October Birds Ch 4: Oscar's Version

He tries not to regret it.

If he looks at it objectively, there's nothing to regret. Lando's an adult, he can't force him to say anything he doesn't want to – there's not some looming threat between them, extortion. There's an imbalance, maybe, in the sense that Lando has nowhere to go and Oscar has nothing to lose, but there's not much to be done about that.

And he would never hold that over Lando, the fact that they're living in his home.

But still, he has to try to keep the ugly feelings down: the second guessing, the nagging belief that maybe he'd finally stepped on a floorboard too far past squeaking – that it snapped under his curious weight. He ignores the fear that maybe Lando won't open back up to him one of these days, and that would have to be fine.

It's not like he could have him forever, anyways.

As he goes through his routine – the parts familiar in his hands, easy enough to let his mind wander – Oscar drifts back to the night before.

To the way Lando spat their silly New Year's resolution back at him, filled with teeth but lacking venom.

He didn't really want to hurt Oscar, not really. He could see it in his eyes – so endlessly expressive, crystal clear looking glass leading to his heart; Lando was scared. Terrified. He was cowering like he could sense an impending storm, rolling dark and heavy over the horizon.

But Lando wasn't afraid of him.

And yet he lashed out, like the thing he was truly afraid of wasn't there to bear the brunt.

Oscar hums to himself as he turns it over in his mind, thoughts drifting aimlessly to the way Lando sucked on his lower lip as he tried to regain control of himself, how the thin skin around his eyes went pink when he cries angry, frustrated tears.

He's like stained glass in all of his colors, the broken pieces slotted together. In the way he glows in the sun, refracting rays from its journey east to west.

Oscar snaps back to attention as something shakes in front of him – eyes immediately registering Feast's pastry box. And on the other end of it, looking at him with an outstretched hand – distanced – is Lando.

His chest relaxes, having grown unexpectedly tight.

Lando looks like a kid before him, pouting a little – something put-on. Oscar would reckon he's nervous, maybe something more. Something he hasn't earned the right to know yet.

"Bad time?" Lando asks, voice a step too high, like he's trying to come off as relaxed.

Oscar smiles at him, smiles a bit more when Lando's shoulders ease. "For pastries?"

"And me."

It's unexpectedly honest. "And you."

He throws the ball back in his court anyways, not sure where they stand – what Lando needs from him. Maybe what he needs from Lando. There's a pause, not that Oscar minds; he could stare at Lando forever, something about his face – his micro-expressions, eyes constantly shifting – that's endlessly fascinating.

"Is that a yes?"

"Never a bad time." For you, Oscar bites his tongue. It's selfish to add, selfish to put that sort of expectation on Lando – someone who's heart already seem to bear the weight of something Oscar may never truly know.

Lando looks at his face more closely, and Oscar knows he can see him flush. He's long-since accepted it. "You've got a bit of, um. On your nose, you –"

"Here?" Oscar's heart sings when Lando rolls his eyes, scoffing at his antics; it's relief, relief and something a bit more selfish, a bit closer to his ribs. He continues spreading the grease around his nose, "C'mon, Lando. Where? Here?"

"You're like a frickin' kid, mate."

Lando's never touched him first.

He wonders if it would mean anything if he did.

He'd like it to, maybe. If he lets himself stand true to their resolution, honesty.

[rafemotherfuckingcameron]

YOU LITERALLY SAVED MY LIFE

Word Count: 1.7k

Pairing(s): Dark!JJ x Reader, Sarah x Reader, Rafe x Reader

Warnings: domestic abuse, physical abuse, strangling, gaslighting, alcohol, mentions of blood, toxic relationship, controlling behavior, trauma, rape, 18+

Summary: Y/n trusted JJ, who initially seemed to be the love of her life, but ultimately became the source of her deepest fears.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Part 2 - Humiliated

Weeks passed, and he apologized for causing you to miss your best friend's birthday, but there was no acknowledgment of the injuries he had inflicted.

He then continued, insisting that some guys were coming over for poker and he needed his "lucky charm" there to serve drinks.

His tone grew ominous as he warned that if you didn't dress the part and comply, what happened last time might repeat itself—a threat laced with a chilling promise of violence.

-

Fear gripped you as you realized the extent of his control and the danger of defying him. He grabbed a shopping bag from the wardrobe and hurled it at you, insisting that you wear its contents tonight, with a stern warning: "I don't want to hear any complaints."

The bag hit you with a thud, its weight symbolic of the suffocating control he exerted over every aspect of your life.

You reluctantly took the outfit out of the bag, your heart sinking as you revealed a costume that was shockingly revealing, clearly not meant to be worn in front of others.

Dread washed over you, realizing that JJ expected you to wear this in front of his friends, a humiliating display that would strip away whatever dignity you had left. As you held the costume up, its provocative design mocked your discomfort.

The neckline plunged dangerously low, the hemline scandalously high. It felt like a costume meant to objectify, not to celebrate. Tears welled in your eyes as you imagined the leering gazes, the crude comments you might endure.

JJ's insistence echoed in your mind: "I don't want to hear any complaints." His words were a command, a reminder of the consequences if you dared to defy him.

When the boys arrived for the game, JJ proudly announced, "We have our very own waitress joining us tonight." His voice was laced with a smug satisfaction that sent a shiver down your spine. The men's eyes immediately fixated on you, their gazes predatory and full of crude desire.

"Damn, JJ, you really know how to pick 'em," one of them leered, his tone thick with innuendo.

Another chimed in, "I'll take a drink... and a lap dance," eliciting boisterous laughter from the others.

You felt exposed and objectified as they made lewd comments about your appearance, their words dripping with misogyny and entitlement. JJ stood by, his grin widening with each degrading remark, reveling in your discomfort.

As you moved around the room, trying to ignore their advances, their hands occasionally brushed against you, sending a jolt of revulsion through your body. It was a nightmarish blur of suggestive remarks, lingering touches, and the sickening realization that you were nothing more than an object for their amusement.

As the game progressed, JJ's mood darkened with every losing hand. He grew increasingly frustrated, his temper simmering just beneath the surface. "Get me another drink," he barked at you, his tone sharp and demanding. When you moved too slowly for his liking, his hand slapped your ass leaving a red mark behind. 

JJ's losing streak continued. His frustration turned to outright anger, the tension in the room growing thicker with each lost hand. Finally, the game reached its brutal conclusion: JJ lost. He owed more money than he could afford, and his friends were not willing to let it slide.

"You gotta pay up, man," one of them said, his voice demanding and unyielding.

JJ's eyes flicked to you, a dark idea forming in his mind. "I don't have the cash right now, but I can offer something else," he said, a sinister edge to his voice.

The room fell silent as the men exchanged glances, understanding dawning on their faces. "What are you talking about?" one of them asked, though the predatory gleam in his eyes showed he already knew.

JJ looked at you, a cruel smile curling his lips. "How about you entertain them for a while?" he suggested, his voice dripping with malice.

Your heart plummeted, a sickening realization washing over you. The men began to murmur in approval, their gazes turning even more predatory. JJ's betrayal was complete, his desperation and cruelty pushing him to offer you up as payment.

You stood frozen, a wave of dread crashing over you as the men advanced, their intentions clear. They closed in around you, their hands reaching out, grasping, pulling you into their circle. Their words were a cacophony of lewd suggestions and vile laughter, each one more demeaning than the last.

"Come on, sweetheart, let's see what you can do," one of them sneered, his hand roughly grabbing your arm.

Another man whispered something filthy in your ear, his breath hot and rancid against your skin. "You're gonna have to work off JJ's debt," he chuckled, his hand sliding down your back, making you shiver with revulsion.

JJ watched from the sidelines, a twisted smirk on his face as you were pulled into their midst.

As JJ walked away, his cruel laughter echoing in your ears, the reality of your situation sank in deeper. He had left you there, defenseless and at the mercy of these men.

The cold, hard truth hit you like a sledgehammer: JJ didn't care about you. He never had. You were just a pawn in his twisted game, a tool to be used and discarded.

One of the guys pushed you down to your knees, his grip on your shoulders firm and unyielding. "On your knees, sweetheart," he ordered, his voice dripping with condescension. You felt the cold, hard floor beneath you, the sense of helplessness overwhelming. You fought the urge to scream, knowing it would only amuse them more.

The men's hands were all over you now, their touch invasive and demeaning. You could hear JJ in the background, talking on the phone as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening.

"Yeah, we're just having a little fun," he said casually, the sound of his voice making your skin crawl. One of the guys unzipped his jeans, letting them fall to the floor. He pulled down his boxers, and his cock sprang free.

He stroked it a few times, his eyes locked onto yours with a predatory gleam. "Open your mouth," he ordered. You shook your head, refusing to comply, but the others grabbed your hair and forced your jaw open, their grips painful and relentless.

The man moved closer, his intentions clear and disgusting. You tried to pull away, but they held you in place, their laughter and taunts echoing around you. You felt utterly trapped, the sense of violation and helplessness overwhelming.

His cock hit the back of your throat, and you gagged around him, which he loved. He fucked himself into your mouth at an unforgiving pace, leaving drool running down your chin.

The room filled with their crude comments and laughter as he continued to thrust into your mouth, your eyes watering from the lack of air and the force of his movements. You could hear JJ in the background, his voice mixing with the others as he encouraged their actions, further cementing his betrayal.

"That's right, take it all," one of them jeered, his hand tightening in your hair.

Another chimed in, "She looks so good like this, doesn't she?"

JJ's voice cut through the din, cold and detached. "See? She's good for something after all."

The man in front of you thrust harder, making you choke and gag. The sensation was unbearable, the feeling of helplessness overwhelming you as tears streamed down your face. The taste and smell were revolting, but there was no escape, no way to break free from their grasp.

As he continued, the others watched with sick fascination, their eyes gleaming with perverse delight. You could feel their hands on your body, groping and squeezing, adding to the humiliation and degradation. Each second felt like an eternity, the nightmare stretching on without end.

After he had unloaded himself in your mouth, he pulled you off and roughly picked you up, placing you on the table, pushing the poker chips out of the way.

You felt the hard surface beneath you as your heart pounded with fear and humiliation. He looked at JJ with a twisted grin and asked, "Can I get her wet?" JJ, lounging back with a drink in his hand, shrugged nonchalantly. 

"You can use her any way you want." The words sent a shiver of dread through you. The man flipped your skirt up and tore your panties away with a vicious yank, exposing you to the leering eyes of everyone in the room. You tried to close your legs, but the men held you down, their grips like iron. "Look at that, boys," one of them said, his voice dripping with lust. 

"She's dripping wet and all ours tonight." The man who had you on the table leaned in, his breath hot and rancid against your skin. He spread your legs apart, ignoring your struggles and pleas.

"Let's see how tight she is," he said with a cruel chuckle, running his fingers along your most private areas, the sensation making your skin crawl. He didn't wait for you to respond; his fingers invaded you, exploring with a roughness that brought tears to your eyes.

The others watched with twisted enjoyment, their laughter and crude comments filling the room. Your body trembled with a mix of fear, shame, and pain, your mind screaming for this nightmare to end. JJ looked on, a smirk playing on his lips as he sipped his drink. 

"Enjoy her, boys. She’s feel so good.” The man's fingers were soon replaced by something far worse. He positioned himself between your legs, his weight pressing you into the table, making it hard to breathe.

"Don't worry, sweetheart," he whispered in your ear, his voice laced with sadistic glee. "I'll make sure you feel every inch." The violation was excruciating, every thrust a reminder of your helplessness. The men around you egged him on, their words a barrage of filth that assaulted your ears. Your cries were drowned out by their laughter, your pleas for mercy ignored.

As he continued to use you, your mind struggled to dissociate from the horror, to find some corner of peace amidst the chaos. But the pain and humiliation were relentless, dragging you back to the cold, harsh reality of your situation.

In that moment, surrounded by predators you felt betrayed by the one person who should have protected you.

[ppnuggie]

can you do a haedcanon of a fem human just drinking SO MUCH COFFEE like cup after cup an she is litery shaking in her seat her entire body is like a maraca an she she swerves bar so can u do headcanons for this for first aid, perceptor, brainstorm, chromdome an cyclones just teacting to this madness

　　　　　　LOST LIGHT x fem reader

　　　　『　first aid ,, brainstorm ,, perceptor ,, chromedome ,, cyclonus ,, female reader 』

　　-> reader who drinks too much coffee and gets really hyper

　　— fluff ,, sfw ,, crack ,, magnus is forever suffering

　　— here you go !! :3 tysm for requesting !! tried to make it funny 🫡 hope you enjoy it <3 i loved writing this one but be warned as i dont drink coffee nor rlly know much for the side effects or smt from drinking it 😭😭 even though im literally working at dunkin rn and they only rlly got coffee

- first aid

| • he'd be worried at first with the amount of coffee you've consumed ,, having learned about humans and other things concerning them incase of an emergency

| • in this case ,, itd seem the knowledge he learned wasnt too helpful

| • bouncing all around the medbay and just hyper in general was quite a pain for first aid to deal with

| • but he didnt want to be too rude to you ,, and gently coaxed you into spending all that energy of yours running laps around the edge of the medlab where you wouldnt get too hurt

| • though when you finally wear it off ,, he'll be quick to scold you ,, holding his digit in front of your face and waving it side to side in a 'no no' motion before taking you to his habsuite and laying you down for a nap

- brainstorm

| • he honestly doesnt know better okay ? you could tell him anything and suddenly he wants to put it to the test

| • so when you said you could drink a bunch of cups of coffee and wouldnt bat an eye ,, he was immediately like bet and then that led to the current situation

| • perceptor is facepalming and immediately making brainstorm take blame for encouraging you to do this ,, because now theres a hyperactive human running around the lab

| • i mean you're practically flying around with how much coffee youve drank ,, hell you could probably beat blurr in a race

| • official you wouldnt say that out loud because lord knows some of his fans to be a bit crazy and would immediately be on your case saying "no you wouldn't !!" and maybe a few death threats involved as well

| • dont mention it in front of brainstorm either because hes already calling blurr to set you up for a race

| • hes no help ,, dont ever tell him your ideas or encourage his crazy ideas unless you wanna end up in magnus's office ,, having him scold you like a dad does to their child who drew on the walls and is trying not to laugh at the situation

- perceptor

| • thanks to brainstorm ,, you chugged too much coffee than your body ever really needed ,, and with perceptor as your not-so-official-but-official-in-his-mind-protector-slash-guardian-slash-alien-robot-boyfriend-slash-fun-killer he just sighs and takes you out the lab

| • he doesnt have the patience to deal with any acidic spills from you bouncing off the walls left and right

| • nor does he really need you getting hurt in any way shape or form

| • lets just say its an awkward trip to the medbay to see if ratchet has anything to help with your situation

| • and when he comes up empty handed ,, percy resorts to scolding you whilst the caffeine starts to wear off

| • it taught you better than to listen to brainstorm again because bro was yapping at 100 words per minute you swore he couldve talked faster than blurr at that point

| • bro was an absolute chatterbox just yapping and yapping that you fell asleep

| • never again would you do that ,, or think about doing that because the headache afterwards when you woke up was so not worth it

- chromedome

| • he also doesnt know any better ,, but he's definitely more responsible than brainstorm is

| • he'd know to at least keep a lot of caffeine or high sugar products out of your reach ,, just hiding it on your top shelves or above your cabinets like parents do with their kids' halloween candy

| • though when you accidentally made too much coffee ,, and didnt really feel like wasting it ,, you drank it all in one go ,, or well multiple big ass gulps

| • and then rewind walks in on the scene and sees how hyper you are and is honestly thinking youre sick with some make-a-person-crazy-illness-virus-disease-thing that he swears is somewhere in his database

| • and now chromedome has to play dad and parent you the whole time

| • bro probably put your ass on a leash ,, locking it in so the rope only goes so far and just stands there as you run around

| • this is what he gets ,, he thinks to himself ,, its the last time hes putting something so low in your reach again

| • at this point ,, hes just gonna store all your unhealthy and junk food away in a desk in his habsuite

| • he'll leave you fruit and vegetables but if you want coffee ever again youre gonna have to behave really good to get it

| • and its only a spoonful ,, as a little treat

- cyclonus

| • so you just trying to show and answer tailgates crazy ass questions that youre not even sure where he got them from

| • he probably got them from his ass at this point ,, asking if the coffee gives you super powers and you have to explain thats not true before he spreads lies around

| • and if that happened ,, you shivered at the thought of magnus banning your coffee aboard the lost light

| • that was pure trauma to even think about right there

| • anyways you made too much ,, and instead of storing it away or pouring it down the drain ,, tailgate dared you to drink it all

| • and well ,, momma aint raise no pussy but she did raise someone who makes bad decisions

| • because the moment you get your spurge of energy tailgate runs to cyclonus and tells him all about it

| • bros going on and on about how youve lost your mind and he thinks youre gonna die and cyclonus had like 600 heart attacks right then and there

| • he busts in like hes the damn swat team ,, door kicked down and pieces of it flying everywhere as you're running around like a wild banshee

| • he's looking for the demon and meanwhile youre out here acting like a damn demon ,, almost frothing at the mouth from how insane you are from the coffee

| • lets just say it makes magnus ban tailgate from ever daring you to do anything ,, bans you from having your coffee ,, and bans cyclonus for ever kicking down a door like that ever again because it was so unnecessary

[thiniceofeternalyouth]

MISLEADIN' ME SERIES: CHAPTER NINETEEN

A WEDDING UNDER PURPLE SKY

⊳ Gojo Satoru x f!reader

series masterlist

Genre: angst, fluff, sci-fi, cosmology.

Words count: ~13k

⊲ previous

[March 27, 2023, 3:03pm; Tokyo, Tokyo Prefecture, K Wedding Salon]

When Danielle had first relied on her independence, it had led to tragedy and a couple of broken hearts. Now a string of questions and problems demanded that she make immediate decisions, and though none of them posed a death threat, panic was setting in. Dany couldn't even decide on the date of her own wedding, so much so that she was losing it at the thought of having to stand on the pedestal of responsibility for her actions.

Seating, menu planning, venue design - she hadn't lost her mind just because you were there for her. The girl tried hard not to show it, and certainly not to convey her anxiety to her fiancé - the emotions chained inside were boiling and churning, pushing Dany closer and closer to the precipice of despair. Panic clouded her own desires - she couldn't understand or even mentally visualize the white dress she'd dreamed of. And had she dreamed of it at all?

Danielle stood in front of the mirror, unsure of herself, nervously clutching the folds of the snow-white skirt. "Well, spin," Rachel mumbled tiredly, twirling her finger in the air. She sat sprawled in the chair, crossing his legs - the coffee on the low table in front of her had long since gone cold.

Danielle's lips tightened anxiously as she slowly turned around, showing you the dress in all its glory. The way she sank into the skirt and the way the corset squeezed her breasts made you and your sister look at each other. You shook your heads embarrassed, almost invisibly, realizing that the dress made the girl look twice as big. "By the way, that shit right there," Rachel, looking through her fingers, nodded at the wide tulle lantern sleeves. "Was in vogue in the nineteenth century."

Even the tight corset on Danielle's chest couldn't suppress the sob that fell from her lips. When she started to shudder, you thought for a moment that the lacing on her back was going to burst, but you didn't even have time to get out of your chair - the girl grabbed hem of the dress and ran out of the fitting room, almost falling. "Since when do ya know about fashion?" you mumbled sarcastically. "Did ya really have to say that?" you sighed, standing up.

"Why?" asked Rachel, arched her eyebrows. "The dress really is awful."

You waved your sister away and walked out of the fitting room into the hall. You saw Dany right away, and she didn't even seem to be trying to hide - the bride was sitting on a coffee table, crying with her hands over her face, and only the consultant was standing next to her, stroking her back and saying something. As you approached them, you quietly snapped your fingers, drawing attention - as soon as the consultant looked at you, you nodded over your shoulder, signaling that Danielle should be left alone. The girl immediately pulled away from the bride and hurried away, the only sounds in the hall were bitter sobs and the clatter of heels on the floor..

Danielle, barely keeping her balance, hovered over the teeming unknown abyss - you realized this as you carefully stepped closer to her. "Come up here," you commanded softly, putting your arm around her shoulders. Danielle immediately gave in - she unhooked her hands from her face and stood up from the table. Her cheeks were full of a sad blush that mingled with black smeared mascara. You, leading her over to the mirror and placing her across from it, went behind her back and began unlacing her corset. "It's not about the dress, is it?" you asked unobtrusively, releasing the girl from the stranglehold.

Danielle shook her head weakly and sniffed her nose - every time you pulled the laces, the girl twitched. "Aren't ya disappointed in me?" she asked weakly but unexpectedly. Looking at herself in the mirror, her heart cut and stabbed at the dreams and expectations left behind - this was not how Danielle saw herself. Why was she wearing white and not black? Why was it a dress and not a uniform with belts and a respirator? Weren't you angry that all the years spent training her had just gone to waste? What would her father say if he saw her like that? Danielle almost cried again, remembering how she'd dreamed of avenging him - was it the white veil that had made her back down?

"What do ya see?" you inquired. Danielle, looking at you in the mirror, saw you nod at her reflection.

"Misery," the word flew from her lips unintentionally. It was not enough to get rid of the corset - the girl was choked by the hands of grief of unfulfilled hopes. "I wanted to be a voidrunner, and now I'm gonna be just a wife," Dany grimaced in despair, almost spitting out the last words.

"Should we tell Megumi ya changed your mind then?" you shrugged, trying to provoke the girl and get the real truth out of her that was pulling her down.

"No!" she raged, tearing off the unwanted dress - now, standing in the middle of the snow-white fabric in just her underwear, Danielle felt vulnerable.

Taking her by the shoulders, you rested your chin on her fragile shoulder - the girl tried to shield herself from you, hugging herself and covering her breasts. "What are you hiding there?" you laughed softly. "Who do ya think bathed ya while your parents were out on missions?" the girl only became more embarrassed and lowered her gaze to the floor, but you stubbornly took her by the chin and lifted her head so she could continue to look at herself in the mirror. "And I see a beautiful girl, alive and real," you said, tucking her golden curl behind her ear, exposing her face.

The corners of her lips twitched faintly at the thought of Megumi - Danielle ran her fingers over the watch on her hand, gently looking at it. She wondered if Fushiguro was experiencing it the same way she was. Did he envision her in her dress, walking down the aisle? Would he cry when she threw back the white veil and spoke the innermost words of consent? "I just... I didn't see myself like this," she whispered shyly, shifting from foot to foot. "And I think the others wanted to see me different too," her quiet words sounded like a confession. 

"It doesn't matter what others wanted from ya," you said, putting your arm around her waist. "Ya can be strong, independent, ya can be a hunter, ya can be a loving wife to a loving husband - none of that defines your accomplishments, and ya don't have to think about others. Don't care about their praise or their disappointment. The most important thing is to live a life in which ya happy, and whatever makes ya happy is already right by default. Within the law, of course," you added, frowning, and Dany chuckled - she knew that was a rule you sometimes didn't follow. "Let's have coffee now and try on another dress," you encouraged her.

The consultant, like a guardian angel, was immediately at your side and handed Danielle's silk robe - she embarrassedly slipped it over her bare shoulders and stepped aside, tightening the belt. When the consultant saw the crumpled dress on the floor, her look became not at all angelic. "I'll pay for it," you grinned carelessly, shrugging guiltily.

[May 23, 2023, 5:31pm; Hopetown]

A true hunter should have a weapon under their belt at all times. You stood in the blue dress, feeling naked and vulnerable, and though your dagger was always on guard, you could feel the anxiety steaming inside, its red embers smoldering and scattering, making you taste the ash in your mouth.

Absolutely everyone in the city was agitated and disheveled - some were worried about their appearance, some had forgotten which seat and at which table they were assigned, and some had lost their favorite cufflinks. All the disgruntled, happy and worried cries rang out, making you squint - every voice seemed like a bell ringing. You glared at the bride's bouquet, but the puzzle didn't fit in your head. Everything seemed out of place - even the butterfly pins, which wings broke when you pinned your hair behind your ears, proved it. "Don't ya think the roses are a little out of place here?" you asked absently, carefully placing the bouquet on the table.

"Ya nuts?" slurred Rachel, a hairbrush clenched in her teeth as her hands worked on Danielle's head. You looked again at the bouquet, which consisted only of white roses.

You sighed excitedly, flicking back the strands of hair falling over your face irritably. "What about our dresses?" you worried, spreading your hands. When Rachel raised an eyebrow defiantly, you quieted down a little, but still continued to press on. "We're bridesmaids, shouldn't it be the same color and style?"

"Then wear the red one," Rachel barked, letting you know to get away from her tight dress - she'd spent at least a month looking for it, pestered and harassed the consultants at every store she'd visited, all just to get a dress that looked like the ones she used to wear on dates. "Look, maybe ya're against this wedding altogether?" she asked grudgingly, styling Dany's hair into a high, voluminous bun.

Danielle gave a worried, almost battered look. The girl sat obediently, almost ready to turn the lonely page of life, and the dress that hugged her body looked marvelous - no tulle, only pure snow-white satin that flowed freely to her feet, and only the corset shouted quietly, showing its lace and attracting attention. Her bare shoulders looked as fragile as porcelain, but Dany tried to keep her head high, so as not to show her own weakness and insecurity - the thin neck was kissed by the tiny pearls of a modest necklace, giving the girl courage. "No, not at all," you said with a gasp, trying to dispel Danielle's unspoken concerns - she looked so beautiful that you didn't want to tarnish her image with a single tear.

Once again, a small hurricane swept past you. "Mike!" Rachel yelled, trying to calm her son, who was running around the room with Tris, inadvertently grabbing everything in his path. The son looked angrily at his mother, pouted his lips, but obediently sat down on the floor. Tris, realizing that no one else was catching up to her, began to sway and twirl from side to side - you couldn't get angry or lecture her on behavior, for they were just kids with an endless supply of energy who were deliberately locked in a room with boring adults. "Maybe I should put the front strands in a bun too...?" mumbled Rachel uncertainly, trying on Dany's hair.

"Ya sure corset fits me well?" asked Dany embarrassedly, fussily pulling up her bust.

"No, I don't think so," you answered honestly to your sister, admiring Danielle. As you came closer, you squatted down in front of her and gently fixed a curl that had fallen into her face. "Ya look amazing," you admitted in a surprisingly shaky voice.

"Don't," the girl shook her head desperately, realizing the point and the stupidity of her question. "If ya say another word, I'll cry. And I can't cry right now. I will ruin my makeup," she squeaked in a broken voice, rubbing the folds of her dress. With a forceful sniffle, Danielle ordered the tears to retreat.

"Hey, that's mine!" resentfully exclaimed Mike behind your backs, and once again there was mayhem.

Tris was running around the room with a small rose in her hand - she had just snatched it from Mike's chest pocket. You didn't even have time to stop the kids - the little girl, laughing at the top of her voice, was running circles around the room, jumping up on the bed, then jumping on the floor, sometimes glancing at her pursuer. At one point she didn't see what was in front of her and crashed right into the desk - Tris fell, clutching her forehead, and brushes, lipsticks, shadows, and, worst of all, blush, which spread its pink dust over the snow-white hemline, fell too.

"Freeze!" ordered Rachel quickly, but not to the children, but to Danielle - putting her index finger in front of Dany's face, Rachel glared at her. The bride froze in utter shock with her mouth open, but didn't utter a word. "Nothing terrible has happened, just breathe," your sister said calmly. "Now get up carefully and let's go to the bathroom."

"Why ya crying?" you asked Tris tiredly, taking a seat next to her.

"It hurts!" she sobbed, rubbing her forehead vigorously and demonstratively and peering at you surreptitiously - would it occur to you that you should have blown on it? 

Tris was snatched right out from under your nose before you could make a sound. "Get her over here," Rachel commanded, scooping the whimpering girl into her arms. "Ya too," she turned sternly to her son. "Ya'll go to Frank's now, I can't stand it any longer. Dany, follow me!"

Danielle, picking up the hem of her dress and stepping over the mess on the floor, scampered after Rach and the children, and as soon as you were alone, the glowing embers burst into flames, and instead of ashes you felt nothing but scalding tongues of flame.

The fourth core was the last thing you destroyed - after that, you spent almost a year running around the void like clueless fools. You didn't see another settlement, not a single person alive or dead as if someone had deliberately changed the configuration, or worse, with invisible hands and inaudible orders, directed you to the wrong places.

You thoughtfully played with the broken wings of the blue butterflies on the table with your finger. The moment of truth was inevitably approaching, and though you thought you were ready for it, your fingers were trembling. You looked at everyone in the town as an enemy on the morning of the wedding day. Breathing heavily, you brushed the hairpins away from you, nervously ran your hands through your hair and picked up the silver hip chain.

The slit of the dress made it easy for you - you put up your leg on the table, and the hem of the skirt slid down over your skin, revealing everything from hip to ankle. You felt like you were sweating even from such basic and simple movements - you had only wrapped the chain around your thigh, and it felt like you were suffocating. You struggled to find the lock in the links and pulled frantically, trying to bend the hook, but it wouldn't budge. You were on the verge of hysterics for things were not going according to plan.

When the hook failed again, you raked the chain in your hand and threw it on the table with force - it rattled pitifully, quietly, and you clutched your head. It was the only sound you'd heard since everyone else had left the room. The creature inside was silent, so quiet that it added another grain of suspicion to the sloshing bowl of worry. Was it gloating? Did it deliberately give no clues? It didn't even whine about being hungry. You had lived side by side with it all your life, sharing not only your body but also your soul, and yet you still knew neither its loyalty nor its treachery.

There was a soft knock, and you were almost ready to lash out at whoever was about to enter, but the remnants of your sanity chained your feet to the floor. The door clicked open, letting you know that the guest hadn't even waited for permission to enter. Taking a deep, shaky breath, you were confronted with a fascinated look - Gojo froze in the doorway, unable to take his eyes off you. "You...," he whispered admiringly, stepping forward and closing the door behind him. "You look like..."

You squirmed in embarrassment and looked away. "Well, you know," laughed the sorcerer, standing behind you and putting his arm around your shoulders. "If I were a bee and you were a flower, I'd pollinate only you."

There was no trace of gentle shyness left - your jaw dropped open in shock, and you frowned your eyebrows in disbelief, hiding your face in your hand in shame. Only the shame wasn't yours. "Never again," you mumbled through a suppressed laugh. "Never again in your life even think about complimenting me."

Gojo laughed softly, hugging you tighter - you were naive to think he'd said that for laughs. If you'd only seen yourself, if you'd known he felt your anxiety as his own, you'd understand why he'd acted like a clown. "No, really," he murmured softly, pulling back a little and looking at you in the mirror. "You look like..."  

Was there such a word in any language at all? Or had the sorcerer, enveloped and enslaved by your countenance, forgotten his own? Your blue fit-and-flare dress was simple and almost closed, with only the loose sleeves woven of translucent fabric condescendingly allowing your scars to see the sunlight. Even the neckline was maddening to Gojo - it wasn't deep at all, but it exposed your collarbones. Only your deep trust, freely given to him, stopped him from ripping your dress off as he glanced down at the exposed top of your breasts, which rose slowly as if begging to be released, and he buried his nose in your neck. He understood why you'd allowed yourself such a neckline - your neck was covered with a satin blue ribbon that covered dozens of scars, and what upset him about the divine image was your mask. You didn't even take it off, you just changed the color to blue.  

"How do I look?" you ask quietly, exhausted with anticipation.

"Like the love of all my lives," grinned Gojo smugly, hiding his shyness behind his impudence.

You laughed for the second time, and he was ready to grab that laugh and put it in his chest pocket, to keep him warm day and night for the rest of your days, but he still felt the anxiety that hugged you instead. "Mochi," he turned to you affectionately, gently rubbing his cheek against the top of your head. "Is something wrong?"

"I don't know," you admitted honestly, shrugging uncertainly. "It's just... It's just that I've been composing the image in my head for a long time," you began to ramble, panting. "And then the hairpins broke, and now the damn chain won't fasten, and the whole look went to hell-"

"Okay, stop," he stopped you gently. "Let's go in order. Where are the hairpins?" you nodded sullenly at the broken butterflies on the table. Gojo, taking the hairpins and digging through the desk drawer, sat down in the chair Danielle had been sitting in earlier. It was so strange to watch a man who did everything carelessly and did it successfully, focused on anything. You peeked over his shoulder, watching as he carefully and meticulously applied glue to the broken edges, sticking out the tip of his tongue. Letting the butterflies dry, the sorcerer took the blue shadow and, after carefully painting over the joints, rose from his chair - grinning embarrassedly and tucking your strands behind your ears, he put it on you. It was such a simple gesture, but why did his eyes suddenly stung? "What do we have next on the list?"

"A hip chain."

The sorcerer's face immediately darkened, for when you spoke of the chain earlier, you did not mention its functionality. "Uh, okay," he gulped. "Sit on the bed for now."

Gojo didn't even have anything to grab onto, no time to stretch because the jewelry was on the table - it was shining brightly, catching his eye. He glanced over his shoulder at you - you were already sitting on the bed, the cheeky cut mocking him, exposing your perfect, scarred leg. Shifting his gaze to his hands, he realized with horror that his fingers were subtly trembling. Exhaling, he snapped back to his senses - the sorcerer wasn't about to back down, leaving you alone with even something minor.

He grabbed the chain confidently and walked to the bed, then slowly knelt down in front of you. You felt strange - he never once raised his unusual, frowning gaze to you. He took your leg and placed it carefully on his shoulder, the chain jingling with joy as he unraveled it and wrapped it around your thigh. Gojo grinned wistfully, his hands were shaking, and he was a poor assistant at the moment. He exhaled noisily, hotly, when the hook finally came together, but his insides went cold when he realized you were in no hurry to remove your leg, and Gojo looked at you hesitantly, almost timidly.

You saw no lust on his face. Passion and lust cloud the human gaze, stupefy the mind, but the Gojo's eyes were clear, shiny - a flickering blue flame that begged you not to extinguish it. With the knowledge that he would smolder in hell for this, Gojo turned his head slightly, pressed your knee closer, and kissed it. 

"Toru," his name scorched on your trembling exhale, snapping all his stamina. With a pitiful whimper on his lips, Gojo continued to leave wet kisses on the inside of your thigh, paying special attention to the scars - he nibbled them gently, carefully running his hot tongue over each imperfection, trying to make you forget about them. The grip of his hand on your waist grew more insistent, but no matter how tightly he held you, it never became violent - it was as if he were silently begging you not to push him away. You grasped his shoulder, lost in the sensations of hot kisses and cold silver chain, but you couldn't find the strength to pull away.   

Gently but brazenly moving on, straight to your hearts and innermost places, tearing his way between kisses and silent moans, Gojo felt like he was about to suffocate, but even death seemed a more lenient punishment than pulling away and leaving you. You could feel his disheveled white hair tickling your skin as he gently rubbed his cheek and nose against your skin in brief moments of respite, letting your heated souls cool, but only to begin caressing you again. He was close, so close that you were scared - you didn't know which side to expect a blow from, or when you would finally be hurt. "Toru!" you exclaimed anxiously, grabbing him by the shoulders.

Confused, Gojo pulled away from you abruptly. He realized he could have ended up sprawled on the wall, but instead the sorcerer met you, worried and helpless - you wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to cover yourself, and it was all his doing - he was the one who conjured and molded your frightened image. "I'm sorry, I'm- I'm not ready for this, I'm not-" you sputtered in a worried apology, lowering your eyes. "I can't-"

Gojo, biting his lip painfully, cupped your hot cheeks. "Don't," he pleaded, shaking his head. "It's all my fault. I'm the one who didn't hold back," he said through his teeth, angry with himself. "I'm sorry. God, baby, I'm so sorry," pulling you against him, the sorcerer felt your body quivering in small shivers, and oh gods, how scared he was to look at your face. He wasn't ready to see your tears. Gojo couldn't hear them, couldn't feel his shirt getting wet, but you were clutching at him like your life depended on it. 

He wanted to be your support, but he broke as soon as he knelt before you. His heart became lifeless as soon as Gojo thought of you running away again, taking your trust and vulnerability with you. Your feelings, like a house of cards caught in the onslaught of a greedy wind, threatened to fly away, to evaporate - now he could feel the fear that the consequences of his greed had brought. "I can't believe it," the sorcerer grinned bitterly, pulling away from you slightly. The fact that you still hadn't raised your gaze to him was a punishment to him. "I almost broke it myself just now," persistence reluctantly gave way to tenderness - Gojo, once again cupping your cheeks, showered your face with sad, slow kisses. You neither confirmed nor denied what he said, and your silence fell heavy on his shoulders. "Please tell me I didn't break it," he pleaded, making a desperate attempt at seeking your reassurance - Gojo, ignoring the fact that your mask separated you, covered your lips with his. You, almost feeling their warmth, gave a short, pitiful whimper, squeezing your eyes shut. "Please, say it."    

You shook your head weakly. "Really?" smiled Gojo, holding back tears. He sat before you, trying to seek your forgiveness, and you couldn't understand why and from where was the remorse in his eyes? What was astonishing to your ignorant soul was that he didn't take advantage of your stupor, you didn't feel dirty or used, you didn't feel like gutting your own brains and ripping out your own heart. "I'll never do anything you don't want me to," he promised you in a hot whisper, his hand buried in your hair.

"Okay," you replied embarrassedly, biting your lip naively. You were learning to accept the close, warm embrace as pure touch - Gojo was ready to glue himself to you, to assure you that he would never hurt you. 

The open door took away the intimacy of the moment - you both flinched, and Gojo pulled you closer to him, harder, protecting you. "Ya halfwits out of your minds?" gasped Rachel, seeing you in the intimate pose. "The ceremony is about to start and you have a speech to give!" she barked. "Get out of here now!"

"What speech?" you mumbled worriedly, looking at your sister dumbfounded.

"Ya'll be making the first toast to the newlyweds," your sister, indignant at your obliviousness, rolled her eyes.

"But no one told me anything!"

"Well... I just told ya," Rach shrugged indifferently and left the room, giving you one last angry look.

The river was extremely calm – it wasn't worried about the delight of the guests, nor the exciting expectation of the betrothed. You had been clearing the shore for months, making it smooth and hospitable, and you could only hope that the waters would be favorable and would not wash it away. The forces of nature took pity on you and your labors - the holding site remained touched only by your hands.

Dozens of round tables were set up on the stone-paved shore - the guests slowly flocked to the venue, taking their seats. Some were whispering about the bride, some were quietly lamenting the fact that there was still no alcohol on the tables, and some were rubbing their stomachs in anticipation, but absolutely everyone was avoiding the path reserved for the bride - her path, framed by thousands of scarlet rose petals, led straight to the white archway under which the Holy Father and the groom were already standing. Megumi clenched and unclenched his fists as he lowered his head and raised it to gaze up at the heavens, and it was obvious that he was having a hard time standing still and waiting.  

Despite Dany's protests and objections, you had to sacrifice the opportunity to see the altar up close - you sat at the side end table so that you could see everyone else. Decorated awnings to protect you from the sun or rain had to be abandoned in the name of the plan, too. Only Rachel, Issu, Megumi, Frank, and Gojo knew about the whole clandestine operation, and everyone kept their mouths shut, no one daring to even glance up to indicate that they were involved in anything. You glanced restlessly at the empty seat to your right, where Rachel was supposed to be sitting. You knew that she and Frank were finishing bottling the orchid wine right now, but you still felt uneasy. 

"I beg your pardon," the man addressed you, placing his hand on your shoulder and smiling self-consciously. You didn't even see Gojo look him over from head to toe and unobtrusively slip man's hand off your arm. "Anything stronger than champagne tonight?" he asked, slurring. 

"We're having a wedding, not a corporate party," you replied, smiling cordially back. "Now take your seat," the contrast in your voice made the man straighten up, even though you weren't paying attention to him at all.

You, crossing your legs, fussily adjusted your skirt, smoothing out the folds and shaking off invisible dust, and, not being able to closely examine each and every guest, you closed your eyes, remembering the previously captured picture, mentally walking among the tables, and in your head was rushing one question - which of them?

When you squeezed the fabric again, Gojo took your hand and brought it to his lips, kissing the back of your palm. "What is it?" the sorcerer asked delicately, gazing into your eyes. 

"I feel uneasy," you admitted honestly.

"It's okay, Mochi," he assured you softly, continuing to cover your palm with kisses. "Even if there are ten of them, we can handle it," you nodded weakly, squeezing his hand, trying to express some of the gratitude you felt now.

You sighed as a notification played on your phone.

[05:51pm] Frank: We're done with the wine. 

[05:59pm] Frank: It's time.

You looked again at the empty seat on the right - if Frank was already with Danielle, where was your sister? Turning around, you met the eyes of the musicians who were already at the ready - a soft wave of your hand made you feel as if you were the one walking down the aisle. A moment later, the violin played its song, beginning the countdown to the imminent joining of two hearts.

The musicians' melody attracted hundreds of waiting eyes, and no one noticed how the bride came out from the corner of the nearest house to be at the beginning of her journey, where two little kids - Tris and Mike - were waiting for her. The children were jumping up and down with joy, eager to see the girl off, even though they barely understood the significance of what was happening. Danielle, holding the proud Frank under her arm, could not take her eyes off the floor - the clatter of her heels became louder and clearer, and no one could ignore the bride when she stepped on the path of scarlet roses.

Megumi, unable to withstand the onslaught of emotion, pressed his hands into his face and turned away - the dazed Father was confused at first, but immediately pulled a handkerchief from his pocket. "My son, you must realize that you are missing a moment that will never come again," he addressed Fushiguro gently, placing a hand on his shoulder. Megumi pulled his hands away from his face in fright - the Holy Father smiled softly when he saw the boy's red eyes flooded with tears. Megumi embarrassedly accepted the handkerchief from the elderly hands, and turned around, swallowing.

The boy, realizing that he had almost missed it, pressed his hand to his mouth, holding back the insolent and insistent crying. His girl, in a beautiful white dress, was already in tears before she even reached the altar. The children were running ahead, and while Mike was somewhat aware of what was happening and scattering petals right in front of Dany, for Tris it was just a game - Megumi grinned wetly, sobbing as the little girl threw petals at someone's face.

Danielle was almost in his arms as Frank glared menacingly at Megumi, silently ordering him to take care of her for the rest of his life. Of course, the gray-haired man was jealous, but all he had to do was lift his chin, adjust his tie, and stand beside the couple. 

Megumi and Danielle couldn't look away from each other. They were aware that they were not observing the norms of propriety - the couple were supposed to stand across from each other and look into each other's eyes - but now, even as the priest spoke, they stood with their arms around each other, their shoulders shaking in unison.

Perhaps you should have listened to Danielle and sat closer to them - you couldn't hear the speech or the sobs from here. You could only see the Holy Father's lips moving, Fushiguro stroking his bride's cheeks as she nodded frantically, desperately pressing her forehead against his. She no longer cared about the makeup and the long-washed blush on the hem of her dress, she didn't care about the people staring at them, there was only peace around them, existed in each other's eyes.

Gojo was looking at them, fiddling with the watch on his hand - just when he thought you might see it, he pulled his hand away, even though it felt like a magnet pulling it back. The blue in his eyes had somehow turned white, so luminous that it was almost unbearable to keep his eyelids open. "They grow up so fast...," the sorcerer muttered without a trace of silliness in his voice. You, pursing your lips and nodding, clinked your glass with his empty one on the table and drank the champagne in a gulp. "Don't push it," he reprimanded you, taking your glass and the bottle that stood in close proximity from you. "You still have a speech to give." 

"Don't remind me," you whimpered, leaning back in your chair.

The violin melody faded away, replaced by a different, loud and explosive one as Axel and Ryan jumped up from their seats and applauded first, making everyone pick up their tune, while the husband and wife stood under the altar and kissed self-consciously and tenderly, ignoring everyone else.

The waiters were pouring champagne and serving food, and Issu and his younger brother were among the proven faces - you wouldn't trust anyone else to pour wine into people's glasses. Megumi was a groom, Gojo looked more like a guest of honor than an attendant, and everyone knew you, Rachel, and Frank by sight. Only Issu, always inconspicuous and quiet, fit the role.

You watched with a soft smile as Megumi took his wife by the hand and led her to the table at the head of the others, where there were only two seats. A small and cheeky little girl was tangled under their feet, and you could tell from her outstretched arms that she was begging to be held. "I'll be right back," you said quietly, intent on picking up the interfering Tris.

As you got closer, you heard Little Miss Drama squealing indignantly about sparkles. "I want it like it's town day!" she whined, rubbing Megumi's sleeve. Without waiting for the right moment, you scooped her up into your arms - she fidgeted, pouting her lips.

"Axel!" you shouted to be heard. Axel looked up from his plate and stared at you with his mouth full. "Give me a hand!" you gave some indication of what you needed to do by clapping your hands together. The boy nodded understandingly, wiped his face with the handkerchief, and stood up from his chair - you had been under the weight of Camila's hard stare the whole time. She was ready to tear you apart at the mere mention of her son, and all you could think about was that after the wedding she wouldn't let the boys out of town. At least not over her dead body.

The boy, clapping his hands, released a thousand sparks, and they soared high upward, but the sunset sky was willful and haughty, not allowing them to shine in full force. Only the eastern skies, soft, benevolent, and covered with twilight, helped the sparks fulfill their purpose. Tris, with her head back, no longer muttered or whimpered, but watched mesmerized as the lights floated in the waters of the sky.

"You could have asked me," Megumi reproached you sullenly.

"Don't pout," you smiled sincerely. "Ya're having a wedding today," you reminded, shifting your gaze to Danielle - her cheeks, neck and shoulders were especially ruddy against the white dress. "Congratulations, guys!" you giggled softly, making the newlyweds smile stupidly and embarrassedly.

"Thank ya," Danielle whispered, fussily fixing her curls.

Gojo watched you, the way you chattered with Dany, the way you glanced playfully at Megumi, and the way you held Tris in your arms, who wriggled and bounced, trying to catch a single light without realizing it was far away. Your dress was softly moving, the wind was ruffling your hair, and the butterflies seemed to come to life - it seemed to the sorcerer that their wings were fluttering smoothly. He didn't flinch even when Frank plopped into the chair to his left - so mesmerized was Gojo. "Don't ya dare, son," Frank ordered sternly, seeing Gojo stroking the watch on his wrist in impatience. "It's the kid's day today, so don't ya dare turn all the attention on yourself."  

"If I ever did...," he muttered, lost in his reverie and not realizing what the conversation was about.

Frank hummed thoughtfully under his breath. "Ya're gonna rip the strap on your watch like that," he pointed out, raising an eyebrow, and Gojo pulled his hands under the table. His broad shoulders slumped, and Frank patted the sorcerer on the back with a sigh. Though he no longer pestered the watch the man had given him earlier, his gaze didn't change. Frank knew how Gojo felt because he had once looked at his wife as well, and would only continue to look if she were here.  

Feeling the tears come to his eyes, Frank filled his glass with champagne and took a large sip. His sun would never wake up and rise again, and he grinned wistfully, feeling warm inside at the thought of a once stranger finding his sunshine. "You alright?" asked Gojo, but only cringed squeamishly when he saw the elderly wet eyes. "Gosh... Are all old men so sentimental?" he quietly resented, trying to re-layer the once elusive smugness and nonchalance that you had unceremoniously snapped off. 

"By the time ya're my age, ya'll find out," Frank muttered, waving him off and filling his glass again - as soon as he wanted to fill the sorcerer's glass, Gojo instantly covered it with his palm.

"It's strange, actually," Gojo marveled quietly, his chin resting on his hand as he watched you lure one of the sparks with your hand as it lowered gently, shining brighter and brighter. The memory of your skin still burned on his lips, and in his heart was your gaze, always on him, whether you were angry or in love with him. You never said the word out loud, never even stuttered or wandered around sending Gojo hints or riddles. "I always wanted to die in battle at the hands of a man or creature that superior to me in strength, and back then, in the battle with Sukuna, I really thought it was my last day," he smiled stupidly, trying to suppress a chuckle as the light tried to escape from you back into the sky, but you stubbornly pulled it back - it levitated over your palm, displeased at being studied by childish eyes. "I was even glad because I didn't wanna die of old age or disease. I considered those deaths unworthy of me," just like everything and everyone else. Only an unscrupulous person could poke a sorcerer's nose in his own smugness. You did it without realizing it yourself, turned his world upside down, and there was nothing left for him to do but take the feeling hidden from everyone, even himself, from his pockets. "It's only recently that I've realized that I... I don't wanna die at all."  

"Why the change of mind?" asked Frank slyly, looking at Gojo understandingly.

The Gojo's breath caught when you turned suddenly to him - you were still holding the hovering spark in your palm, and you laughed warmly, realizing that you'd been watching all this time. Letting the flame go free, you waved to him gently, and Gojo, smoldering with embarrassment and melting at the sight of you, waved back shyly. "It was more change of a heart."   

The sorcerer faltered as you headed back to the table - he kicked Frank to keep his mouth shut, and got a fatherly slap for it. Why didn't he think about how much it would hurt to bare weaknesses that, left defenseless, were suddenly exposed to the looming blades of fear? As you sat down next to him, Tris crawled over Gojo and plopped herself onto the softer - you snorted quietly, crossing your arms over your chest as Tris made herself comfortable on Frank's legs.

"Oh, we should hide it...," Frank said politely, setting the champagne bottle aside, but, already tipsy, he didn't notice the glass on the way - it toppled over, staining the white tablecloth, the man's pants, and, disastrously, the girl's dress. "Don't panic," Frank ordered - Tris didn't even have time to squeak. "We'll have a quick change of clothes. We'll be back in time for the first toast," he looked meaningfully at Gojo, and he nodded and put his arm around you as if trying to shield you from any harm. 

As soon as Frank stood up, you saw a graceful figure float up to the newlyweds' table. "What?" you hissed, gazing Nathaniel with harsh look. "What's he doing here?" you remembered that you'd told Frank to lock him out of the town - so how did he get in here, and why? Your nerves were already frayed, and you'd been suspicious of everyone since this morning - the arrogant, unconcerned look of a superior who'd shown up at a wedding made your blood boil. 

"I'm the one who gave him access," Frank told you back. "And he's the one who covered for you."

"Did I ask for that?" you protested.

"Quiet, girl!" the man bellowed, but it was harder to sermonize you now - Frank could see the way Gojo's hand tensed, and the look he gave the gray-haired man as soon as he snapped at you. Tris, sensing the quarrel with her childish heart, whimpered quietly. "I'm sorry," he coughed awkwardly. "He's really been a big help, so ya should thank him. I'll lock town back up for him right away after the wedding, if it makes ya feel better," nodding, Frank carried the little girl to the house on the hill. 

You didn't even realize how hard you were clenching your teeth as you glared at the golden hair. Inside, you felt like you'd been played for a fool before you could do anything about it. You tried your best to shrug it off as anxiety - though it had some basis in fact, you were tired of doubting, your mind melting under the strain. "Mochi," Gojo whispered softly in your ear, pulling you out of your daze and throwing you into a shiver. "How about we dance?" he suggested slyly, rising from his seat. How do you get used to him reading you like an open book? How do you get over the fact that he could feel your emotions, even completely unable to see your face? 

"I don't...," you stammered embarrassedly, scratching the back of your head. "I don't know how to dance. Not at all."

You were late and there was no strength in your excuses - he was already standing before you, ready to pick you up and dispel your fear, protecting your vulnerability. "Does it matter?" Gojo grinned softly, holding out a warm hand to you.

Avoiding responsibility in the blazing sun, you lay on the roof ledge of a one-story bar with one leg overhanging and your eyes closed. You didn't want to go home because there was a chance that Frank would put a mountain of chores on your shoulders. You just wanted to rest after the raid. You'd rather sink into a puddle of sweat than spend an evening in the garden.

No matter how shameless you were, you still frowned every time you thought of Kyle - he'd taken all of his father's wrath on himself and was probably working for the three of you right now. The laziness was louder and more persuasive anyway, and the fatigue echoed it every now and then, leaving the shame to squeak quietly in the far corner of your tired mind.

You put your hands behind your head and made yourself comfortable, even though you knew that sleep would never catch up with you, neither here, under the evil sun, nor in a comfortable bed. You didn't care about the people passing by - there weren't many of them anyway, for in this heat they were all hiding in the cool shadows of their homes. "Hello," you glanced down, leisurely opening one eye.

"Hey, Nael," you chirped sleepily, propping yourself up on your elbows. "What up?"

"Why don't you come down first?" he asked sternly.

"Ya the one who came to me," you grinned playfully, squinting against the sun. "So ya the one who came up," Nathaniel stepped from foot to foot, and you couldn't help but wonder - he'd been practicing long and hard for the past few months, had he still not mastered relocating? He was fidgeting around the bar, and barely did you see the quiet desperation in his eyes, you decided to spare the man. "There's a ladder in the back," you chuckled, pointing a thumb behind your back.

You thought you heard a quiet snort and a disgruntled muttering - maybe it was just the mockery of the heat. It took Nathaniel longer to shake himself off than it did to get up on the roof - he was still squirming as he moved closer to you, smoothing his shirt sleeves with a squeamish look. Realizing you weren't going to get up, the man wrinkled his nose and sat down on the ledge next to you. " Filthy weather," he muttered, feeling the sweat running down his body.  

"Ya didn't come to talk about the weather," you sighed frustratedly. "Well, tell me about it. How's the promotion going?"

Even his primness couldn't hide his resentment; despite his proudly straight back, his eyes told everything about him. "I won't lie. Sometimes I just think they enjoy picking on me. Christian loading me up with pointless work and endless trainings, taking me for an errand boy, but as soon as I dare mention promotion, he tells me that the staff is full and there are no changes to the council," he went on in a rank tirade without raising his voice, though Nathaniel's graceful but sharp gesticulation gave him away. "Why can't he just raise the number of people on the council from five to six?"

"That's the way it's been since the founding of the hunters as an organization," you shrugged nonchalantly. "At least according to the stories."

"Then I especially don't see the point of all this," Nathaniel grinned, and you looked away. Someone like him wouldn't show so much emotion for free. "None of them are going to die anytime soon, so why do they have to press at me like this?"

"Because ya'd make a good successor," you grimaced at your own words, for the uncertainty seeping through them blurred any truthfulness. There was an undercurrent of ambiguity in you - you couldn't believe that such a man had come just to complain.

"Can you help me?" blurted out, but immediately stopped when he heard the desperation in his voice, and lifted his chin.

"What do ya want from me?" you asked tiredly. The more a man got more honest, the more exhausted it got.

"I have some information," the man said quietly, carefully, intertwining his fingers. "I know that Edgar...," Nathaniel hesitated, choosing tactful words. "That he has a… connection with the dioreact."

"And?"

"Follow him," his words sounded almost like an order. "Follow him, see it for yourself, memorize it, and take Edgar to trial."

You sat up fully and gave the man a rounded stare, but not from shock. From interest. "What?" you laughed at the top of your voice, grabbing your chest. "Ya've got a knack for it. I respect that."

"I wasn't kidding-"

"Then why don't ya take him yourself?" Nathaniel's insides went cold when he heard your tone-not even the wind was so fickle. You'd been laughing only a second ago, but your smile had been replaced by indifference - so piercing, so burning that it seemed stiff. It all but proved that the black eyes he'd once seen in the void were no illusion.

"Because I'm scared," he admitted on an exhale. "I've never been there, and you... It's your job. Besides, I'm not sure I can beat Edgar."

"Then why did ya decide you were worthy to take his place?"

"I can be of use to you," the man stated firmly. "Don't you need your own person among those who constantly want to get rid of you?"

"That's odd," you drawled. "Why didn't ya just tell Christian and the others about it?"

"I did!" burst out the man. "Do you think anyone ever believed me?"

You were not interested in the moral side of the matter. You worshipped only two lords - gluttony and greed - and unfortunately, Nathaniel could not satiate either of them. "And what will ya pay with?" you grinned ironically. "Ya have nothing."

As Nathaniel sat there, accepting his defeat, you wondered how close you could let him get. How soon will a friend turn out to be an enemy? And wasn't he an enemy initially? "Ya know, there's something," you said, wary of betrayal. Nathaniel looked at you cautiously, and then at the dagger you clutched in your hand. "In return for my promise, I'll take yours."

The man stared at you, stunned, his arrogance gone. Dark, glittering, carnivorous eyes stared back at him, and you slowly held out the dagger to him. "Don't... Don't you just need mental consent?" he whispered fearfully, afraid to take hold of your part that obeyed only you.

"No-no-no," you reassured him with contrived gentleness, tilting your head to the side and shoving the dagger into his hands. "I don't do that sort of thing," you chuckled, straightening your head sharply and moving closer to the man. "I need a clear answer," you held out your bare wrist to him. "Yes means yes, no means no."

Swallowing, Nael grasped the hilt with a trembling hand. He would not have a better opportunity - if he refused, he risked being an unwanted soul, once pulled from the void. Ambition took its course - if the ladder did not want to be climbed, he would build his own, climbing it he would be able to see everything crystal clear, and, what was even better, to look down on everyone. He drew a line across your wrist with the edge of the dagger, but instead of blood, he saw only a faint glow, which was immediately extinguished. Nathaniel drew a second line over the first, leaving his promise on you forever.

The time was inevitably approaching evening, and the sparks in the sky were burning brighter and brighter. All the guests, well-fed and happy, were sitting at their tables, talking excitedly and impatiently, waiting for the first toast to the newlyweds. You, looking at everyone, couldn't even open your mouth. Frank and Tris still hadn't returned - you couldn't know, but maybe the man had decided it would be safer for the little girl, or maybe she was cranky and was picking out a suitable dress from the dozens of previously bought ones. Once again looking at the empty seat on the right, you couldn't stand it - taking the phone in your hands, you dialed your sister.

The call wasn't answered right away - the beeps, deliberately stretching out, made you drum your fingers on the table. "What do ya want?" asked Rachel grudgingly. She was breathing heavily, clearly out of breath and trying to hide it.

"Where the hell are ya?" you whispered anxiously, covering your face lightly with your hand and hiding your gaze from everyone. 

"Ya stupid?" hissed Rachel. "Who do ya think supposed to bottle the wine from the barrels?" you swallowed nervously when you saw the waiters - some of them carrying out wooden boxes, others swapping guests' dirty glasses for clean ones. You instantly hung up the phone with a trembling finger. She's just up to her old tricks. Getting drunk again, or worse, running straight from the wedding into the grip of another lustful suitor. You'd probably called her in the middle of action - you shook your head, wiping the sweat from your forehead as you tried to brush away the images.

As the waiter approached you to pour the wine into your glasses, you looked up to see Issu standing in front of you, one hand holding the bottom of the bottle and the other behind his back. He nodded briefly to you as a sign of readiness, you nodded back and looked at Megumi – the boy seemed to have been waiting for this, and repeated your gesture.

"Baby," Gojo called softly, squeezing your naked thigh, trying to comfort you, to soothe you. "Everyone's waiting," you looked at the faces of the guests with a hazy look, all of them blended into a single, rotten blur that stared right back at you. Your own flesh felt like it had been gnawed off, your blue dress became red – feeling almost throwing up, you tried to stand up, but you were stopped by the sorcerer's hand. He squeezed your shoulder gently and stood up. "I apologize," he smiled kindly at his guests, raising his wine-filled glass. "It's just that when Y/N is around me, she gets speechless," Gojo looked around with piercing blue eyes at the people in jackets and dresses, whose gazes were fixed on him, but the sorcerer was only interested in ones, dark blue and occasionally frowning. "Well, Megumi, now I'm really starting to get jealous," someone coughed embarrassedly, and some looked at each other perplexed, but the sorcerer didn't care about those people's misunderstandings. "And seriously...It's strange to see you like this," he sighed. A sullen expression loomed on Megumi's stone face. "Really, it is strange. But that doesn't mean it's a bad thing at all," he grinned vaguely, stroking the walls of the cool glass with his thumb. Facing Sukuna, Gojo couldn't even think of seeing Fushiguro eating breakfast at the table one day. Embarrassment at his own thoughts and his own useless power caused him to stifle his gaze for a moment. "Dany, you got the scowliest, the grumpiest," Gojo wanted to laugh, a blush of embarrassment and anger appearing on the Megumi's cheeks. "The most obnoxious... and the bravest brat in the world. But I know you're better and smarter than me," Gojo didn't need to look at you directly. It was enough for him to catch a glimpse of the blue sheen of your dress - it reminded him that you had a hand in raising the girl. "And you will never leave Megumi, especially when he needs you the most. If I was never sure of that before," Gojo stammered, for the persistent and unshakeable conviction of the short-term and fleeting nature of the sorcerer's life had begun to sway, wobbling and breaking his inner foundations - it became so hard to speak that the words almost trembled. "What I can say for sure now is that you will live long, and if you are lucky, you will live happily," Gojo he flushed a little, realizing that now everyone could reproach him with his own words about power and loneliness as interconnected things. "I see what you've become, and wanna think that I have some credit for it, but now I wanna take back what I once foolishly said to you. I hope that when you become stronger than me, you will leave at least a corner in your life for your teacher. It can be small and modest, I'm not picky. Megumi, Daniel. I know you're tired of accepting congratulations, but I want to congratulate you on the fact that even our cursed fate allowed you to find each other," Gojo wouldn't be Gojo if he didn't take the opportunity to look around slyly and without noticing Frank, he cheered. "Also, I'll be the godfather!"      

You didn't even hear the cheers of applause - you sat there, glaring at the table and, without realizing it, gnawing your thumb. "And now, friends, I'd like to raise the first toast," the sorcerer said cheerfully, raising his glass higher - all the guests unknowingly repeated after him. You didn't catch a word of what Gojo was saying - only his blurred movements told you the beginning of the end. Your heart was tearing all premonitions with its pounding, making you gnaw harder and harder into your own flesh. "To the union of the two hunters!" 

There was a second's silence after everyone repeated the last phrase in unison. You saw Gojo put down his glass without taking a drink. There was a clatter of cutlery on the left. On the right, you heard the clinking of broken crystal. You didn't even feel a hand on your shoulder; slowly you looked up through the painful haze and saw everyone, almost everyone, clutching at their throats. 

You didn't feel your finger bleeding. You didn't feel the nail plate gnawed through to the meat. The swords in your body twisted, making you forget about the external pain. The creatures coughed and grabbed at the white tablecloths, and silverware flew to the floor along with the unfinished dinner. With a ragged sigh, you leisurely turned your head to the right, where Rosalie was sitting. It was like she was waiting for you to pay attention to her. The woman saw your cold, doomed look, and she shook her glass of untouched wine happily, winking at you with dark eyes.

Defeat had no taste. Pain had no color. Regret didn't know how to burn, scorching your soul. Everything you had ever known had disowned you, and you felt no hands, no legs, no presence in the world.

You were shaken lightly by the shoulder, and you found the strength to turn your head slowly and look Gojo dead in the eye. "Run," you whispered softly before the ground shook. 

A purple flash burned away all grief. For a moment you thought you were dead, but the heat of the ground your body was pressed against protested as fluttering purple flames slid across your skin. Unconscious, you tried to get up, but your body was pinned down by something heavy, preventing you from breathing. As soon as you made any attempt to move, there was a ringing in your ears. You felt multiple feet pressing you harder into the ash and dirt, but you couldn't find the strength to resist. Screams in the distance, like lost souls begging for deliverance or mercy - you smiled, thinking that they might have just been voices in your head. You didn't even struggle when someone's hands closed around your neck - you just collapsed, unable to move a finger.

Suddenly, the grip was gone - you wheezed, shuddering. Your sluggish body was released from the pile of beams and picked up, bringing you to your feet. "Baby," Gojo whispered anxiously, fussily brushing strands of hair away from your face - the butterflies had long since broken off and died. It was like he'd dug you up straight from the grave - the sorcerer sobbed painfully at the sight of your pale face and the extinguished gaze that stared at one point. "It's okay. It's gonna be okay, we just need to get out of here." 

Your airways were clogged with fumes, and you couldn't see anything in front of you, dead bodies falling at your feet, but Gojo had his arm around your waist and was trying to look around. His strength really did lie in his loneliness at times, as he grimaced and realized with panic that he couldn't snap his fingers and change the foreign purple color to his own. Only immaculate blue eyes helped him find others in the smoke - the sorcerer dragged you towards the stream of cursed energy. "Megumi!" he shouted, seeing the boy fidgeting around, trying to look for anyone, but Danielle was nowhere near him. "Where's Dany?" 

"I relocated her home," he shouted back, coughing. "Where are the others?"

Gojo looked around frantically, squinting his watery eyes, the smoke cutting them like a knife. He darted down the trail, holding you up, and Megumi ran after him - meeting Yuji and Yuta, he raked them both by the scruff of the neck without a word. "Look for the others. Megumi, can you move a few people?"  

You couldn't hear the screams, but the faint, sweet smell of fried flesh hit your nose. Someone grabbed your arm with such force that it almost broke your wrist, and you saw the severed head of a man with black eyes at your feet. The beautiful face was contorted with anger - Gojo was panting in spite of the poisonous smoke. But none of them were killing demons. They were just giving them an excuse to take possession of more human bodies. "Tris... Frank...," you mumbled sluggishly, looking up at the house on the hill that was blazing purple fire - your once home was burning before your eyes. You slipped out of Gojo's grip on your wobbly legs and waddled over to the other side, holding the hem of your burnt dress.  

"Take everyone out," Gojo said, squeezing Megumi's shoulder and looking into his eyes. "I'll be right back," the boy nodded briefly and, grabbing his friends under his arms, disappeared from sight momentarily. But only to return again.

You saw golden hair developing on the horizon, and you sped up, ignoring Gojo's grip on your arm, and approached the figure. It wasn't a mirage at all. "Nathaniel?" you wondered in relief, grabbing the man's shoulder. When you turned him around, he was staring blankly at the floor, a bloody hole in his throat. The sorcerer, clinging to ypu more tightly, dragged you towards the house - you only saw the higher-up fall to his knees and then to the ground. Gojo had better not have dragged you forward so soon, for this time it was you who had to kneel.  

A familiar, lifeless face stared back at you from under the beams. "Axel?" you asked weakly, still hoping for an answer. Wrenching your arm free, you ran over to a pile of smoldering wood, and with your bare hands began digging up the body - you sobbed harder and harder, unable to feel the burns. "Ryan?" you whimpered, getting to the truth. Your two students were in the arms of your foe - Camila was lying straight on top of the breathless boys, never protecting them.

"Mochi, please, let's go," Gojo pleaded in a broken voice as you tried to rouse any of them. You desperately stroked their dead, burned faces, barely touching them for fear of waking them, and all he could do was cover your eyes with his palm. "It's okay," the sorcerer realized you needed time, but he couldn't give it to you. Clenching his teeth, Gojo wrapped his arms around your shuddering body at the waist and pulled you off the ground, dragging you back up the hill despite your silent protests. "We need to go..."   

You lost your senses and just went wherever you were led. You didn't even wonder if Gojo was the enemy; you didn't care if you were being torn apart. Had you been bringing demons into the town all this time? Was it all your doing? Was the hell that unfolded on the town's land only because you had once opened a way into someone else's? 

All of them were laughing, laughing so loudly that their sudden crying made you clutch your head - the machinations of common sense, which was gradually going mad, made you see the smiling faces of those who had been eating, drinking and dancing an hour before. They stood motionless, neither asking you for anything, nor reaching out to grasp your hand, all of them instantly turned to ashes that snowed on your head.

The heat on your skin grew brighter and clearer as you climbed the hill and stood near the burning house. The wood crackled, burning - you stared blankly as a beam fell to the ground. You flinched as the hem of your dress was tugged hesitantly. "Mike?" you exhaled convulsively, seeing his eyes full of incomprehension and horror. The boy's suit was torn and burnt, and his face and red hair were all sooty, but Mike himself seemed to be unharmed. "Mike," you exhaled, scooping the boy up in your arms and burrowing into his neck.

"Take him home, okay?" asked Gojo softly. "I'll go get Frank and Tris," you nodded, not taking your eyes off the boy. You frantically stroked his back, your hands feeling his warmth and a lively shiver.

"Relocate."

You sat a dazed Mike down on the dining room table - the kitchen and living room were already rushing with Doc and Shoko, trying to see everyone as quickly as possible. You kissed the redhead's top relentlessly, clutching your hands to the small shoulders. It was your sister's job to do that. But she wasn't here.

With a sob, you pulled away from Mike and glanced around at everyone present. Perhaps Megumi was right when he said that Gojo had been very lucky - luck was on his side right now. All of his students were here - terrified, dirty, with burns on their faces and limbs, but they were all breathing. And of yours, only Danielle was left.

"How's Megumi?" she asked on the verge of breaking down, running up to you - her beautiful white dress was stained with blood and soot.

"He's fine," you said, wiping your nose. "He'll be back soon," you nodded, not looking the girl in the eyes. "And so am I... I'll be back soon too."

"Relocate."

You were back in front of the charred door you hadn't dared enter a few minutes ago. You stood there, clutching and unclutching the folds of your skirt. If only they'd survived, they'd be long gone from that house - so there was no point in going in. A quiet cry escaped your lips - you hadn't seen them in the cliff house with everyone else.

Like a drowned woman, you paced the bottom of the lake, heavy stones tied to your feet. The light left on the surface of the water did not penetrate and warm you in the depths of clammy, nightmarish fear - you could barely move your feet, tangling in the mud and sinking in the sand. The cold water pushed you from side to side, filling your lungs - you could not even cough, for you were already dead.

Gojo was roused from his stupor by the sound of the charred door opening and your slow footsteps behind him. "What's in there?" you whispered quietly in a voice that foreshadowed that you already knew everything. "Satoru, what's in there... What's in there?" you rambled on the verge of breaking down, and his heart skipped a beat as you sped up - the sorcerer turned around abruptly and grabbed you, and before you could see the bitterness and sorrow in his eyes, he clutched your head to his chest and turned around again, letting you never come face to face with it - your back and his eyes witnessing the bloody tragedy. "What is it?" you whimpered, hitting his chest weakly with your fist.  

Gojo was frantically stroking your hair, resting his chin on the top of your head, tears in his eyes. Frank, sitting listlessly on the floor with his back against the wall, was still cradling the small body against you "Nothing," he lied, shaking his head frantically. The man's lowered glassy gaze from under half-closed eyelids was no longer friendly or stern. Tiny drops of blood fell from the corner of his lips, sizzling and vaporizing as they made contact with the hot floor. Two hearts, large and small, were pierced by a single blade - it protruded from their lifeless bodies. Realizing they had been killed before the toast had even been spoken, Gojo, choking on your sobs, backed away. "There's no one here," a quivering grin contorted his lips, and he shook his head, looking at Frank and Tris one last time. "There's no one here," the sorcerer repeated, closing the doors of the house on the hill behind you forever. 

Gojo led you back slowly, trying not to think about the people you'd left behind, dead or alive - he needed to get to Megumi. You weaved obediently beside him, and he was only more alarmed when he didn't see any black lines or dark eyes - you'd rather be mad than so empty. But as soon as you were at the foot of the hill, you pulled your arm out.   

Your wobbly gait was gone, and you stepped firmly forward, clearing a path. Offset after offset - dead bodies, burned wood, stones, roofs flew sideways, and the farther you moved, the more your actions became frantic, disorderly. The dead, burning town was no longer resisting - there was nothing else here but purple tongues of flame. No howls, no screams, no restless running. Only the cinders continued to walk in this silence. "Megumi?" the sorcerer asked puzzled, seeing a black hair, but not a shred of cursed energy emanated from that person. Someone was digging in the dirt, trying to get either a dead or half-dead person.  

"Issu," you said coldly, coming up from behind. He gave you a glimpse and continued raking the path. "Take your brother and get out of here."

"What about the rest of the people?" protested the boy, unable to tear his hands away from the unfamiliar face he had almost reached.

"Issu, come to your senses!" you barked, grabbing him by the scruff of the neck and setting him on his feet. "There are no more people here," you muttered mournfully, giving the boy time to realize what was happening. Issu, lowering his gaze to the floor, shrugged his shoulders in confusion. He felt the same way you did. All these people, all these familiar faces you brought out, were no longer human. Or had never been human at all. The boy nodded briefly and headed toward one of the surviving houses - you could just see him picking up his little brother, who had jumped out of the window, in his arms.

"We all need to get out of here," wheezed a voice behind you. Gojo turned around and faced Fushiguro. He was dragging the unconscious Nobara on his back, crouching under her weight. 

What an abomination a stopped heart could be - it stopped pumping blood, and you, standing in the midst of human ashes, felt the merciless cold. You kept looking in the direction where the road of life had once been - no one would ever set foot on it again, desires were buried with their persons. "Mochi?" Gojo turned to you uncertainly, ready to lead you away. From here, you could not see the rock from which the deepest dreams of the people who had once lost them in the cold wasteland soared once a year. You nodded briefly, realizing that the dead Hopetown would never say goodbye to you - you couldn't even see the ghost of the paper plane. 

[May 23, 2023, 11:31pm; hunters' hq]

You immediately disappeared behind the bathroom doors of your workroom without going upstairs. You were ashamed to look them in the eye, and you were afraid that you would never see some of the judgmental eyes. Having never seen Frank and Tris dead, they were still alive for you in the back of your mind, and you forcefully held yourself in place so as not to return to Hopetown. You ripped off your dress with a jerk, determined to bury it - it rattled and ripped, and you whimpered and began shoving it zealously into the bucket. You pressed and tamped down the unruly fabric that tried to climb back out, its burnt folds bringing you back to the events of the dead town.

You kicked the bucket to the side, and with a loud thud, the bucket flew off the wall and collapsed, the dress slipping out of it, sprawling on the floor. With a jerk, you opened the dresser and pulled out the first one you could find. Pulling on a gray T-shirt and pants, you walked over to the sink and opened the faucet to full power, your hands shaking as you saw the black lines appearing.

There was a quiet, insistent knock at the door. "Mochi?" called out Gojo quietly. "May I come in?"

"No!" you bellowed, snapping out. Clenching your hands into fists to the point of pain and panting superficially, you looked cowardly at the door. "I'm sorry," you exhaled. "I really... I really need to be alone. For a couple minutes. Gimme a couple minutes."

"How can I leave you like this?" grinned the sorcerer wistfully, jerking the knob weakly without hope. His forehead was against the door, and he was thinking about what might have happened to you all alone - you never stuttered or mentioned anything like that, you seemed to love life with all your actions and words, but now there was only your broken shadow in front of him.

"Ya'd better tell me, is there somewhere we can crash?" you asked muffled, changing the subject. "We can't stay in this house."

Gojo frowned and thought of the never-restored Tokyo college, but something else, something similar, came to mind. "Kyoto college will do?" 

"Yeah," you answered without thinking. "Ya should... Ya tell the others for now and help them pack. And I'll be out in a bit. Really."

You heard him scrape hesitantly at the door, and then a couple of quiet taps on it before the sorcerer backed away. His hesitant footsteps sounded through the pouring water - Gojo stepped from foot to foot, and though he stepped farther back, he never turned his back. "If you're not out in ten minutes, I'll break down the door," he warned you before leaving the workroom. 

Barely stopped feeling his presence, you looked at yourself in the mirror. "What are ya looking at, bitch?" you sobbed, staring into the dark eyes. "Why didn't ya... Why didn't ya warn me?" you ran your hands restlessly through your black strands, desperately hoping to wash away the black color from them, but it remained stubborn and unyielding. You dipped your hands under the stream of water and began to frantically wash the soot and blood off them. "Or you can only yell when ya hungry?" you hissed, grabbing the edges of the sink as it cracked and you could only watch as the water ran away from you. Your whole body shuddered, though you felt no pain, and you slammed your fist into your own reflection, and it shattered into large shards. "Ya're no use to me," you whimpered, washing your bloody hands. Bending down and taking water in your palms, you leaned them against your face and wiped it – you didn't want to know if you were really crying.

It was time to keep your promise - you wiped your face with a towel and left the workroom for the kitchen. When you entered the corridor, you heard the hurried, frantic running on the second floor - almost no one was talking to each other, and if they did, they were very quiet. In the midst of this deafening confusion stood out a gentle lullaby that your sister was humming. When you entered the kitchen, you saw her sitting at the dining table, cradling her half-sleeping son. You walked carefully around the table and sat down across from Rachel. She didn't even look at you, just kept rocking Mike, humming softly to herself.

"Where have ya been?" you asked blankly. You watched absently as your sister, chuckling merrily, rose from her seat and walked over to the couch to lay your son down. She continued to stand behind you, and you felt neither threatened nor dead, only doomed.

"Have you ever wondered how we let this happen?" she asked sympathetically, walking past you. "Maybe we shouldn't have encroached on their territory, much less destroyed it," Rachel, stopping in the hallway, turned around - you didn't dare look up. You didn't want to see the green eyes or the red hair again, for it was all a deception. While he laughed your sister's ringing laugh, you were dying. "But now you know how we felt, liebe," Rei cooed, disappearing into the darkness of the hallway. 

next ⊳

[beanzwrites]

Not Your Fault

Parings: Dean x Sister! reader x Sam

Description: The Winchester's sister tries to save Lucas before he falls off the dock but ends up almost drowning herself.

~Inspired by episode 3~

⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *

        (Y/n) sits in the back of the Impala, a frown sketched across her face as the car stops at an intersection. A sign stands at the triangular median with a white arrow pointing towards Milwaukee. Dean's finger taps against the stirring wheel in a steady rhythm while everyone tries to keep their minds of the subtle threat the sheriff made earlier.

        "Green," Sam interrupts the silence after a minute past of waiting at the light.

        "What?" Dean asks from his thoughts.

        "Light's green," (Y/n) mutters.

        Baby begins to roll forward. (Y/n)'s face furrows in confusion as Dean turns to the right. She straightens herself to the edge of the seat to look at her brother. "Ah, the interstate's the other way."

        "I know," Dean says.

        "Dean, this job, I think it's over," Sam states.

        "I'm not so sure," Dean confesses.

        "If Bill murdered Peter Sweeney and Peter's spirit got its revenge, case closed. The spirit should be at rest," Sam says.

        "What are you thinking?" (Y/n) asks Dean quietly.

        Dean glances at his siblings. "What if we take off and this thing isn't done? What if we missed something? What if more people get hurt?"

        "That's a lot of what if's."

        "But why would you think that?" Sam questions.

        "Because Lucas was scared," Dean replies.

        "That's what this is about?"

        "I just don't want to leave town til I know the kid's okay."

        "Who are you, and what have you done with my brother?"

        "Shut up."

        "For what it's worth, I agree with Dean on this one," (Y/n) adds in with her finger in the air.

        "Shut up," Sam jokingly repeats.

---

           "Are you sure about this? It's pretty late, man." Sam says as the three of them walk to the front of the house. Dean rolls his eyes, pressing the door bell, until Lucas opens the door in a panic. Immediately, Dean kneels down to calm the boy, but Lucas rushes off with a heavy breath.

        The siblings rush up the stairs after him. Water floods the floor, pouring down the steps like a waterfall. (Y/n) and Sam holds back the scared boy as their older brother pounds his weight against the locked bathroom door. It is forced open at last and Sam rushes in to pull Lucas's mother out of the overflowing bathtub. (Y/n)'s eyes water, her heart thumping against her chest, as she holds Lucas firmly to her form. A hiccupped sigh releases from her lips as Sam finally pulls Andrea out with all his might.

---

        (Y/n) listens to the soft murmurs of the conversation Sam and Andrea has as she watches over Lucas. Dean was somewhere in the house, investigating for any answers on why Peter Sweeney went after Andrea. The youngest Winchester heaves out a long exhale, twirling a (F/C) crayon between he fingers.

        Lucas gets up from his place on the floor and walks into the main area of the house. (Y/n) follows, asking where he was going, but he gave no answer. He walks up to a window and (Y/n) makes eye contact with Dean, who was hovering over the table with a book in his hand. he gives a curious glance towards Lucas, only to get a shrug from his sister in return.

        "Lucas? Lucas, what is it?" Dean asks.

        The boy doesn't say a thing and saunters out the front door with a rigid frown. (Y/n) goes after him, her brothers and Andrea quick behind her. Lucas stops at the top of a mossy hill and stares at it before looking up at Dean.

        "You and Lucas get back to the house and stay there, okay?" Dean instructs. Andrea grabs her son and heads down to the house as ordered. "(Y/n), go with them."

        "But-" (Y/n) interjects.

        "I need you to make sure nothing bad happens. I can trust you, right?"

        "Yeah, okay- call me if things go south though."

---

        (Y/n) and Andrea watch through the window as Jake points a gun at Sam and Dean. (Y/n) was about to run to the door, but Andrea stops her by grabbing her arm. She shakes her head with a fearful look in her eyes and kneels down in front of the young duo.

        "Go to your room, sweetie. You, will you stay with him, please?Lock the door and don't come out," Andrea requires, before heading outside to stop her dad. (Y/n) was about to lead Lucas to his room, until he bolts to another entrance of the house. He waits for her at the end of the deck stairs as the confrontation with the sheriff heats up a few meters away. A voice rings in the girl's ears as she makes her way out onto the patio.

        Come play with me

        "Did you hear that?" She asks Lucas. He tilts his head before climbing up a mound on the side of the house. (Y/n) imitates his actions, like an apprentice learning from their mentor, and notices rather quickly that he was heading for the water. He reaches down to grab something and (Y/n) looks over him to see a green army man floating in the water tauntingly as Lucas struggles to grab it. She crouches down at the water, extending her arm to pluck the toy from the water too.

      "I can't reach it," (Y/n) huffs out as she leans her body across the watery depths. It ripples softly near their hands as a dark figure approaches. She narrows her eyes, lifting her hand out of the water, when a mop of hair drifts to the surface.

        "Lucas!"

        "(Y/n)!"

        "Stay where you are!"

        Suddenly, a discolored hand bolts out and grabs Lucas's wrist. (Y/n) wraps her arms around the boy's torso to keep him on the dock, but the powerful pull the vengeful spirit possessed causes the Winchester's muscles to strain. (Y/n) and Lucas fly into the water, their bodies consumed by the waves.

        (Y/n)'s arms slip away from the boy as her whole form becomes heavy. She gulps and chokes on the water filling her lungs and she struggles to reach the surface. The murky liquid makes her eyes sting and she can see nothing but her blurry physique sinking further down to the bottom.

        She abruptly wakes from unconsciousness as someone reaches around her waist and pulls up to the surface. Immediately, she coughs out her lungs as her discombobulated mind becomes alert of her surroundings once more. The person's large hand pushes her head against their neck as they both gasp for air.

        "You're okay, I got you," Sam whispers as he presses a kiss to her temple.  

---

        Dean blankets (Y/n)'s shoulders with his jacket as they walk to the Impala parked at the edge of the road. She gratefully pulls the material closer to her shivering body. Sam opens the back door for her and she climbs in, looking at Andrea's house as the sun's shadow casts over the roof.

        "That was a close one, huh sis?" Dean jokes, shifting into reverse and pulling out on to the road. The engine pants softly as its speed accelerates on the black pavement. (Y/n) gives a weak smile and nods to her brother in response before turning to the scenery passing by her window.

        "(Y/n)?" Sam says softly, giving her a gentle gander from the passenger's seat.

        "What?" She mumbles.

        "What's wrong with you?" Dean comments, looking through the rear view mirror. "By now you would be making up a stupid joke about trees or something."

        "I'm fine," (Y/n) sighs, "Just tired."

        "We're not going to stop bothering you until you tell us what's got you down," Sam prompts.

        "I couldn't save him..."

        "Huh?" Dean questions loudly.

        "I couldn't save Lucas. I wasn't strong enough to keep him on the dock. He almost drowned because of me."

        "That's what this is about? Lucas is alive, isn't he?"

        "Yeah-"

        "(Y/n), we were dealing with a revengeful spirit. Your a kid- of course your not going to win a wrestling match against a ghost. You shouldn't beat yourself about it," Sam explains.

        "Sam's right. It wasn't you fault. You are strong, but you can't expect everything to go smoothly with a job like ours. We're a team, and you can sure as hell forget us getting off your back anytime soon," Dean states.

        "Thanks guys," (Y/n) says.

        "Yeah, no problem, bud." Sam remarks sweetly.

        "Hey Dean?"

        "Yeah kid?"

        "Why did the pine tree get in trouble?"

        "I don't know, why?"

        "Because it was being knotty."

        "Oh my god, that was bad." Sam snorts as Dean beats his hand on Sam's arm with a cackle.

        "It was being naughty, brutha." Dean laughs while wiggling his eyebrows.

        "Shut up."

[evanhamato]

Hello! How are you? Hopefully great!

May i please request hurt/comfort, platonic head canon younger sister reader and her older brothers?

It's about reader who's going through a rough break up since her boyfriend cheated on her with no remorse, so the gang are comforting her and having their revenge on the ex.

[ Family First ]

ROTTMNT x GN!Reader dealing with a breakup

A/N: im so sorry to hear about your ex :( i really hope you can move on from that! also, there wasn't really any gender specific terms used so, i applied it as gender neutral if thats okay (plus, trying to be more inclusive for people who may be going through a similar situation)! have a nice day siniora and thank you for requesting! <3

Relationship: Platonic / Familial

TW: Hurt/comfort, slight mentions of violence, threats, fluff

Raph

Calm on the surface, reassuring you and rubbing your back.

He is genuinely boiling underneath the surface.

However, he redirects his anger to focusing on comforting you.

What kind of person does that anyways?

You get babied for the next week.

Food? Made for you. Fast food? Ordered. Drinks? Brought to you and pre poured.

If he ever comes across said ex, it is so very difficult for him to keep his composure

Passive aggressive to the max.

But of course, he doesn't want to be seen as violent so he will leave as quickly as possibly.

That doesn't mean he doesn't give your ex a nasty stare.

Leo

Tells you how he 'told you so'.

Tries to cheer you up with jokes and snarky remarks about your ex.

But, if you don't like the jokes, he goes stone cold immediately.

Distractions, its what helps him calm down!

Karaoke by humiliating himself, dumb jokes that never land.

But also, he'll talk about his day, or anything really.

If you guys are out and he spots your ex, of course he's not happy to see them.

But, why waste energy on that when your right there?

Walks in front of you, on weird angles, anything to hide you.

He'd rather you not see your ex.

Donnie

He's stunned.

He can't wrap his head around the fact someone would cheat, the concept is foreign to him. (100% not projecting haha../sar)

Emotions. Not his category, not his strong suit.

Also, romance is something he understands but, also does not.

He obviously understands this meant a lot to you so, he goes out of his way to accommodate to your physical touch needs if needed.

Hugs, cuddles, shoulder rubs, its a limited time deal.

He knows sometimes he inherently says mean stuff so, he tries to keep his sarcasm down a notch.

He doesn't wanna make you feel like a fool for something that wasn't your fault.

He doesn't give your ex an ounce of attention.

Nothing. If they try to interact, Donnie doesn't even respond. He's above that.

Mikey

When he hears about what happens, he pinches the bridge of his snout (beak, snout?) and shakes his head.

Not at you, but at your ex of course.

The whole situation is just a matter of morality and clearly your ex didn't have good morals.

Of course, its just normal reassurance.

You go to bed feeling crappy. Wake up, go to the lair.

When you arrive, everyone acts secretive.

That is until they reveal they're going for the day to a festival with you!

Mikey doesn't acknowledge your ex, like Donnie.

He doesn't completely ignore said ex though.

He will deliver the nastiest stare like Raph, not a single word exchanged other than that.

[kaeyas-beloved]

Saw the post w/ the prompt list and you said is open

If you don't mind, can you do 🥘 w/ Dazai from BSD?

(hope I did this right)

I don't mind at all Anon! (and no worries, you did it right <3)

CWs: gn!reader, petnames (dear), maybe a little ooc Dazai

Acts of service prompts: open!

[ 🥘 ] - having dinner ready for them when they arrive home

It wasn't rare for your boyfriend to greet you at the door the moment you get home, leaning in to place a kiss on your cheek. It was rare, however, for the man to greet you in the form of standing in front of you, hands folded behind his back. You stop midway on taking your shoes off, making sure to give him a glare that conveys your suspicion. "What did you do Osamu?"

"Im just greeting you, as always," comes his 'innocent' reply. His little smile that was meant to sell the idea that nothing out of the ordinary was going on did, in fact, not help his case at all. If anything, it just dug him further into whatever hole he's got himself into. You just hope there’s no actual holes involved.

For the next handful of seconds that passed you kept your gaze trained on him, analyzing all you could. There were no new injuries on his person (thank god), he didn't smell of river water or trash (thank god again) and, while he was smiling, it wasn't one that had sinister undertones. What the hell could it be then? "Don't lie to my face, what did you do?"

"I'm wounded dear. Do you really not trust me?"

"No." Yes, you actually think, but it's okay to tease him every now and then. Besides, you know that he knows you trust him with all that you are. "Either admit to your crimes dear or I'm walking out this door and having dinner with Yosano instead."

And he laughs - head thrown back and shoulders shaking as if you’ve said the funniest thing in the world. You didn't know what to expect from your empty threat, but it certainly wasn't to be blessed by the sounds of his merriment, "I was right, you are cute when you're mad." You’re truly dumbfounded but its admittedly difficult to suppress a smile of your own.

You goof, "is that what this is about? You wanted to see me mad?" you ask, resuming taking off your shoes and coat.

"No," he says, grabbing your hand the moment it’s unoccupied and encasing it in his, "I actually wanted to show you something." Oh god… spoke too soon.

Sighing, you nod in the direction of further into the house, letting him drag you to wherever it is this surprise is waiting. And a surprise it sure is.

How'd he know? When the hell did you ever say that this was your favourite? "I asked our friends if you're wondering." He really must’ve if he was able to lay out a dinner that’s exactly to your tastes. It appears freshly put out too, like he just finished pouring the last glass before you walked through the door.

You’re about to melt into a puddle of goo, embrace him and place kiss after kiss on his face when a devious idea entered your thoughts. Crossing your arms, you smirk and close your eyes, aiming for an expression between smug and smartass, “and you didn’t burn down the place? I’m shocked Osamu.”

Immediately a newfound weight bogs down your shoulder, your lover leaning himself on you, “I’m hurt! What makes you think I didn’t know how to do such a simple task like cook?” You don’t see it - you’re too busy trying to keep yourself from falling over - but he has the back of his hand pressed against his forehead, one eye closed and the other peeking towards you to catch your expression.

“Oh, I don’t know Osamu, maybe because when I first met you you smelled like a rotting corpse and when I first went to your house your dishes were staked in the sink.”

“I was going to do them later that day!” Having enough of being made fun of, Dazai reaches towards your unprotected sides, you unaware of the onslaught of torture you’re about to receive. “Besides, that didn’t stop you from loving me did it?”

“No, I suppose nOAAHHT!?” Twisting in his hold, you begin your perilous fight for air, but your lover is ruthless, not letting you go for a second. You end up bumping into the table and the chairs a few times, rattling the dishes on top. Ordinarily you’d be worried about them falling and breaking but right now you’re having too much fun with the silly man you fell in love with.

Then it happened. Looking down you find that your hand has landed right in the middle of one of the dishes. All playfulness stopped for a breath, both of you frozen as you just stood and stared… before bursting into fits of giggles, straightening up from the hunched over position you found yourselves in.

“How does this sound,” you pat at his arm, them still encircling your form, “you let me wash up and we can eat the no doubt yummy food you’ve made.”

“Fine by me,” he lets you step out of his hold, watching as you turn to leave only to stop a second after.

“Oh, and Osamu?” The man hums then makes a noise of surprise when you pull him closer, placing a kiss on his lips. Easily he kisses back, and as you pull away you drop your voice to a whisper, “thank you for making dinner, I had a rough day today, so this was really nice to come home to.”

Kissing him one last time you back up and turn to walk towards the bathroom again, leaving a smiling Osamu Dazai in the middle of the kitchen.

Tag list: @tickotaku // @spoopy-fish-writes // @xenuuu // @mariposa666haruka @quackquackmfs // @kaerui-kaisen // @lordbugs // @dontmindmebeing // @irethepotato

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[fanfics4all]

Lines Crossed: Part 5

Request: Yes / No I’m in LOVE with the lines crossed series I need more 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🖤 @yrfavel

Don’t be shy, request things! <3 Have a nice day/night

Malachai x Fem!Jones!Reader 

Word count: 1801

Warnings: Being beaten

Y/N: Your Name 

PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK, I WORK HARD ON MY FICS AND IT’S NOT COOL TO STEAL SOMEONE ELSE’S WORK! 

If you want to be on the tag list for anything (My series fics, specific character fics, or just all of them) All you have to do is send me an ask and I will add you! 

Masterlist 

If you enjoy my work, you could also show support by buying me a coffee! 

(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)

The next day, I had a meeting at Pop’s. I needed an outside opinion on the matter. I grabbed my jacket, and left my shop, my heart pounding as I climbed onto my bike and sped off. By the time I reached Pop’s, the sun was setting, casting an orange glow over the diner’s neon sign. I parked out front and took a deep breath before heading inside. The second I stepped through the door, I felt it. The shift. The way conversations dipped, how people’s gazes flicked toward me, then lingered. The whispering started almost immediately. 

I didn’t need to hear the words to know what they were saying. The picture of Malachai and me must’ve made its way to the Northside. It wasn’t just the Ghoulies and the Serpents talking about it anymore. Now it was everyone. I ignored them, shoulders squared as I slid into the booth. My hands curled into fists on the table as I stared at the menu, not actually reading it. I shouldn’t care. Let them talk. But knowing people were looking at me like some kind of traitor, some kind of threat, like I wasn’t just me anymore, made my stomach twist. 

A few minutes passed before the bell above the door chimed, and I looked up to see Betty Cooper walking in. Her ponytail bounced as she scanned the diner before spotting me. She smiled, quick and easy like she always had, then headed straight for my booth. She didn’t hesitate, didn’t pause to stare like the rest of them. She just slid into the seat across from me and raised a brow. 

“So.” She said, resting her elbows on the table. “What’s up?” 

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding, the tension in my shoulders easing just slightly. Thank God. If I needed anything right now, it was someone who wasn’t involved in all this gang shit. Someone who wasn’t looking at me like I was a bomb waiting to go off. 

“Betty…” I started, rubbing a hand down my face. “I don’t know what to do.” 

She tilted her head, green eyes narrowing with concern. “About what?” 

I hesitated, glancing around. Too many ears. I shook my head and leaned in slightly. 

“I need to talk to someone who’s not a Ghoulie or a Serpent. Someone who can actually help me figure this out without already having a side.” 

Betty’s expression turned serious. “Okya, I’m listening.” 

So I told her everything. 

I told her about Malachai, about the Ghoulies, about how they wanted me to pick a side. About how my shop- my neutral safe place- was now in the middle of a war I never wanted to be part of. About how Jughead started it all because he thought he knew what was best. 

Betty listened intently, nodding every so often, but she didn’t interrupt. When I was done, I let out a shaky breath, my hands gripping the edge of the table. 

“I don’t know what to do, B.” My voice cracked. 

“If I don’t choose, they’re gonna go after Jugeadh… but if I do choose, I lose everything.” 

Betty was quiet for a moment, chewing on her lip as she considered her words. Then she leaned forward, her voice even. 

“What would happen if you joined the Ghoulies?” 

I blinked. Out of all the things she could’ve said, I wasn’t expecting that.

“Betty-” 

“No, really.” She insisted, her eyes sharp. “What actually happens if you say yes? If you go all in?” 

“I lose my shop, it becomes Ghoulie territory… and…” I hesitated. 

“And I never get to talk to my Dad or Jughead again.” 

Betty’s eyes softened, and she leaned back in her seat, digesting what I had said. She looked thoughtful, her fingers tapping against the table. 

“That sounds like a pretty big price to pay.” She said slowly. “But if it means you and Jughead are safe, you’ve got to think about it.” 

I shook my head, my heart racing again at the thought. “Safe? What does that even mean anymore?” I could feel the frustration building in my chest. 

“I’ve been trying to stay out of all this mess, but now it’s everywhere. And it feels like no matter what I do, I’ll lose either way.” 

Betty’s eyes met mine, and for a second, it almost felt like she understood. 

“You’re not just a bystander in this. You’re caught in the middle of something bigger than you thought, but sometimes you’ve got to make hard choices to protect yourself.” 

I felt the sting of that truth hit deep. My stomach twisted, and the weight of it all seemed to crash down on me all at once. 

“But how do you choose the right side when every side feels like it’s wrong?” I whispered. 

Betty was quiet for a beat before she spoke, her voice soft but firm. 

“You don’t have to choose sides, Y/N. Not yet. You just need to think about what’s best for you, what keeps you whole. If joining the Ghoulies feels like the only way to survive, then maybe that’s what you need to do. But you’ve got to make sure it’s for you, not for anyone else.” 

I looked at her, trying to find any shred of hope in those words, but all I saw was the truth. Joining the Ghoulies might give Jughead protection, but it would cost me everything I’d worked so hard to build. And Jughead? What would that do to our relationship? Or Dad? I could lose them both over this. 

“I don’t know if I can do it.” I admitted, my voice shaky. 

“I don’t know if I can walk away from my Dad, brother, or the shop I’ve worked so hard for.” I let out a breath, my eyes brimming with unshed tears. 

“But if I don’t, they’ll come for Jughead, and I’ll be the one who gets him hurt. I can’t let that happen.” 

Betty reached across the table, her hand warm against mine. “You’re not alone in this, Y/N. You’ve got people who care about you, and that’s not something you can throw away. Whatever you decide, you’ll figure it out.” 

I left Pop’s, my mind a whirl of confusion and indecision. Betty’s words echoed in my head, but nothing felt clear. The choice was still hanging there, a heavy weight around my neck, suffocating every breath I took. I couldn’t shake the feeling that no matter which path I walked down, I would lose something precious to me. 

I climbed back onto my back, the cool evening air cutting through the tension in my chest but not easing it. The ride back to the shop was quieter, the road now a blue of streetlights and shadows. As I parked out front, I saw the familiar lights inside still on. It was late, but the shop was mine. And for now, the only place I could think straight. 

Inside, the shelves lined with artwork and my tools felt like a small oasis. I knew what I needed to do- I needed to work. Focus on something I could control, something real, to keep my mind from spiraling. I moved behind the counter, wiping the counter clear and setting up for the next project. 

The doorbell jingled, the sound slicing through the quiet. I glanced up, expecting a late customer, but what I didn’t expect was the four Ghoulies who stormed in, their boots thudding heavily against the wooden floor. Before I could even process what was happening, one of them slammed the door shut behind them, locking it with a heavy click. 

“Look at this, Malachai’s little pet.” One of them sneered, a dark-haired guy I recognized from their crew. His eyes narrowed as he stepped forward. 

“Thinks she can hide in here, huh?” 

“Y/N.” Another one hissed, the venom in his voice sending a chill down my spine. 

“You’re the reason Malachai was hurt. You’re the one who caused this mess. You’re the dirty little Snake slut who’s been playing both sides.” 

I backed up instinctively, heart hammering, but there was no way out. The shop felt smaller with them in it, their presence a weight pressing in on me.

“You’re not a Ghoulie.” The first one continued, advancing. “You’ll never be one. You’re nothing but a liability. A weakness. Malachai’s weakness.” He spat the words like they were poison. 

“And now you’re paying the price for everything your brother and those Sperent Snakes did.” 

My breath caught, panic rising in my throat. This wasn’t how I imagined it. I never thought they would come here, to the one place that was supposed to be a sanctuary. 

“No.” I stammered, my voice small. “I-I didn’t do anything. I just-” 

“You’ve been playing both sides this whole time, acting like you’re neutral.” Another Ghoulie sneered. “But we know the truth. You’re a traitor, and you’re gonna regret this.” 

One of them grabbed me by the arm, yanking me roughly towards the counter. 

“You’re gonna pay for what those Snakes did to Malachai.” He growled. 

His fist shot out, landing hard against my stomach, knocking the wind out of me. I stumbled back, hitting the counter. Tears burned at the corners of my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. I couldn’t let them see how much they were hurting me. But it was hard. The pain, the words… they were suffocating. 

“You’re a fucking Snake, Y/N. You think you’re better than us?” The guy who’d spoken first shoved me again, hard, sending me sprawling onto the floor. 

“You’ll never belong with the Ghoulies. Not now, not ever.” 

I could hear the others keering, mocking me, but all I could focus on was the cold, the burning pain in my ribs, the humiliation of it all. A boot landed in my ribs, and I gasped, a sob escaping my throat. 

“Stop!” I managed to choke out, though the word came out more like a desperate plea than an order. 

But they didn’t stop. They didn’t care. 

“You should’ve known better, Y/N.” The ‘leader’ said, his voice low and menacing. 

“This is what happens when you get caught in the middle.” 

Another punch and I felt the sharp sting of pain, then darkness creeping in at the edges of my vision. I could hear the Ghoulies laughing, their voices distant. 

“Don’t cry now, Princess. You’re just a Snake, remember? No one cares about you. Not really.” 

I tried to push through the pain, tried to stand, but my body wouldn’t cooperate. They had broken me down- physically and mentally. The shop, my sanctuary, now felt like a cage. The last thing I remembered before the darkness completely took over was their laughter. 

Tag list: @les-bio-lie @tashy-bear @ashwarren32 @hollie-blogs-blog1 @lover-of-books-and-tea @nerdygaloresposts @teenwolfbitches28 @kmc1989 @drw0301bieber @lady-of-lies @ravenmoore14 @ravenempress101 @cillianchamp @rowanthomasknapp @rachelxwayne @ready-4-fanfiction @madammarvellous-blog1 @emo-godess-loves-you @hiya-imthatgirl @mindsetjupiter @averysinclaire @mittelerde1999 @sweetest-peas @rousewriter @camiconfessions-blog @thecaptainsgingersnap @cenyddtheunicorn @jacksxsouthsideserpents @lover2448 @mamacobie13 @scarrasco1325 @madebyleftovermuses @fandom-princess-forevermore @liz-owl @adamsbubblegumbitch

[xvulpinesweetsx]

Adding on to that other ask (sorry its in two lol) mayhaps a fic, after I read in your bio that you do them? With ler Baizhu, the man has almost no content for him but like hes a doctor, right? Doctors do occasionally sometimes do things during checkups that does tkl. I love this man sm

I READ THAT AS LER BAIZHU AND LEE DOTTORE 😭😰

Ofc!! I'm so happy to get Fic requests- ignore the delay tho

I hope you don't care if I throw one of my OC's in (:3)

Her name is Elliott and she's a pottery maker and craftsman who grew up in Fontaine but moved to Liyue and has a small business. She's got mad Hu Tao mixed with Amber vibes if you get the idea. She's about as old as Hu Tao too so ofc they're besties- there's a whole friend group but I'll make a post about her if this gets enough attention.

I STRUGGLED, sry

Sniffles and Stubbornness

Ler: Baizhu

Lee: Elliot (Genshin OC)

Warning: I scrapped the first idea because it was too long- sorry if this is short and lazy 😭 Also tickles but that's expected

Plot: The stubborn Pottery worker Elliott suffers from a cold, and a certain Funeral Parlor owner alerts the local pharmacist...

Elliott was miserable.

Sneezing, sniffles- the works. She could barely make a vase without wrecking it

And of course, a certain funeral parlor girl managed to alert the minty-green haired twins over by Bubu Pharmacy to come check on her

Elliott had her head in her arms as she sat in a back area of her shop when an annoying-ly familiar voice called out from the front with the bell jingle of the door opening

"Oh Elliottttt~!"

That stupid Baizhu guy- acting like the worlds most annoying father figure. Of course the position was open for the pottery girl but still, it didn't make his stupid smirk or sass and snark with her any better

"Go away-!!"

Elliott shouted back, pushing herself up from the table to go greet the pharmacist. The girl pushed back the curtain on her archway separating the back from the front of the shop, her tired expression meeting the usual smile of the man

"Well now, is that any way to talk to your Doctor~?" Baizhu placed a hand on his hip, smirking

"What do you want.?" Elliott grumbled, giving a little sniff

"Well... A certain funeral birdie gave me a tweet someone needed help..."

"Hu Tao!? Ugh- I'm fine! It's just some sniffles, no need for any of your help here..."

Baizhu walked up to the counter, leaning over and placing his elbows on the stone

"Oh, really? She said you were having quite the sneezing fit last time she saw you..."

"That... was nothing! I'm in no need of medical services today, goodbye!!"

Elliott tried walking away, but Baizhu was quick to respond as he stood up again, crossing his arms over his chest as he continued with that stupid smile

"Ohoho- I don't believe so... Come back here"

Elliott tried to protest, only to be interrupted by a quick set of sneezes. Baizhu grinned, looking at the girl with eyes that say 'I told you so'. He walked up behind the girl, his expression a little bit more menacing now.

"Whether you like it or not... You're coming with me now-"

Elliott immediately tried dashing off to the back room, but Baizhu quickly grabbed her by the waist and picked her up like a bag of flour. His tall stature compared to her was quite apparent as she kicked her dangling legs in a desperate means of escape

"H-HAY!! LET ME DOWN!!"

Baizhu snickered, holding the wiggling girl easily

"Now now child, if you don't cooperate now you're only going to make things harder for yourself..."

"NO WAY LI-YUE! I SAID PUT ME DOW- EAK!!"

Elliott squeaked in a panic as she felt a pair of slightly cold fingers slip just underneath her blue suit. Of course this was the route Baizhu was going to take, it always was...

The doctor snickered, keeping his fingers on her sides as a slight threat with every intention of finishing the job, whether she cooperated or not...

"Well well well... That was certainly a cute sound- you mind making it again?"

He dribbled his fingers on the girls sides again, coaxing another few squeaks and giving the girl enough time to flush up and start struggling before he decided to start skittering

The girl's laughter was high pitched and squeaky as she flailed around, kicking her legs and pushing at Baizhu's arms to let her go as she leaned her head back, still giggling loudly with a few snorts mixed in there

"NOHOHOHO- LEHEHET ME GOHO!!"

"Oh, not a chance... Unless of course-"

"FIHIHINE!! IHIHILL COHOHME!!"

The girl quickly crumbled, giving in as fast as she could to escape. Luckily, the Dr took this as a sign of improvement and paused his tickles, setting her back on the ground- but holding her against him as she gathered her breath and balance back

"Now, I believe you have a promise to fulfill~?"

OKAY THATS THE END!!

Hope this was good enough, ik it was small but I went through like three different drafts and finally just pumped out this! Okey baiiii