#but shun said its fine

[revivemyreverie]

You're nervous, aren't you? I can hear it in the way your heart's beating...

Twisted from: Narrator of the Tale-Tell Heart, by Edgar Allen Poe

Saga Levoriol

ベーガス・キャスティヤ

CV: Horie Shun (堀江 瞬)

Technical info.

Gender: Male

Birthday: 10/13

Age: 20

Height: 179 cm

Hair Color: Crow Black

Eye Color: Heterochromatic; Dark Green & Baby Blue

Hand Pref.: Left

Homeland: City of Flowers

College Info.

Class: 3A Set 14

Club: None

Favorite Subject: Biology

Other.

Hobby: Journaling

Likes: Being alone

Dislikes: Ravens

Favorite Food: Beef Heart Stew

Hated Food: Sashimi

Specialty: Rambling

UM: Lies In The Floorboards, Beats in Your Blood

A super-hearing skill that allows Saga to hear the heartbeat of everyone nearby.

Hearts, Eyes, & Other Parts to Find

Dear Diary,

To start off, I am not a madman, nor am I insane. I can prove that with medical documents and even my family accounts, even if I am just a supposed shut-in to them.

You see, I had a roommate that I believed to be demonic. He had eyes of pure evil, and to live with him would have been hell on earth. I have been raised rather religiously, so I saw it as completely fine to outright murder the man. And so I did– I took his life and hid the body in a place no one would ever know. I noticed while moving the body too, that his eye happened to be missing, but I chalked it up to being too brutal with the act.

But that was not the only odd occurrence. I suddenly began to hear odd thumps in the apartment, the beating of a heart so loud that my head could have burst. My parents said my Unique Magic had somehow developed, but I’m sure its a curse instilled on me for my grave act. Still, everyone in the building acted as if nothing had happened, like he hadn’t gone missing! I swear I was going mad, that they all knew something!

But then, the most horrific day came. I get a knock on the door, and there stands my roommate, alive and bright as ever. He says he had gone on vacation, and that I must have forgotten. Everyone laughed when he told the story to his friends, but he’s lying! I know he is! If not, then whose body did I bury? Who did I stab in an fearful rage?! Whose whose whose–

Whose blue eye rests in my skull?

[nighthaunting]

This deserves a more in-depth post but I’ve been thinking about Morgott again and just off the cuff it IS very funny in terms of symmetry that Marika imprisoned Morgott in the Shunning Grounds to the point that he was shackled to keep him there and now Morgott is doing such a good job defending the Erdtree to keep the Tarnished from burning his city down that he’s incidentally keeping Marika imprisoned in her Elden Ring Breaker’s Time Out Crucifixion Evergaol

How the turn tables type situation honestly

Morgott’s devotion to the Erdtree is continually framed as him being overly invested in the Golden Order’s dogma by fandom which is I think a misread of his situation, as I’ve said before, but Morgott’s devotion to defending the Erdtree has also kept Marika imprisoned for ???? years so he’s also honestly doing more than any other demigod to directly pay her back for his terrible childhood, and its entirely unwitting which is the funniest part

I have seen a lot of fanworks belaboring Morgott’s imagined mommy issues and religious issues but I think we need to lean in more on the fact that Morgott was also directly keeping anyone from breaking the Erdtree open like a piñata to find out what happened to Marika for the length of An Age

The Veiled Monarch running Leyndell like its the fucking Navy and whenever anyone asks him what happened to the God Queen he’s like ‘its fine don’t worry about it also under no circumstances should anyone approach the Erdtree Sanctuary no reason she just needs her privacy’

Did he occasionally hear muffled clanging coming from inside as Radagon tried to fix the Elden Ring and ignore it because it’s none of his business?

IDK I just think this is very funny Morgott successfully jailed his Godly parent for like a thousand years by accident by being extremely good at siege defense strategy and also hunting Tarnished for sport

[depresssant]

title : 'santa maria' aquamarine

yan!gojo x painter!reader

synopsis : he had never spared you a single glance before, but now here he was talking about getting you an aquamarine necklace to match his eyes

—————

“oh, [name]? yeah, that loser always holes herself up in her room."

your older sister's voice could be heard from a mile away with how obnoxious she sounded. 

well, she wasn't wrong.

sighing, you tossed your paintbrush into its cup and took a step back to look at your half-finished work. you spent an entirety of a week on it, not bothering to step out of your room unless it was to change the water in your cup, get food, or clean your paintbrushes. the painting was of a faceless woman in black walking in the opposite direction of all the colorful people as rain stormed from the clouds. she was the only one that didn't have an umbrella.

it reminded you a little of you...

who were you kidding?

the woman in the painting was you.

in the world of jujutsu, you were just a non-sorcerer that could only see curses. your family was a famous and potent clan who's pride was their cursed technique, so to have been born without one was a bad omen in itself. you were to be discarded, ignored, and shunned from what was considered a 'normal society.'

even your own family participated in such a trend, and you had soon found yourself turning into a hermit of sorts. what good did it do to even show your face to the world if the world didn't want to see you? it was a lost cause⏤one that you refused to believe in any longer. living like this until you turned eighteen was really the only option left for you.

you nodded in satisfaction⏤it was a rare occasion for you to be satisfied with one of your pieces⏤and moved to begin cleaning, but all of a sudden, your door swung open as if it was kicked down.

the sight that greeted you made any wisp of happiness you had crumbled away.

"[NAME]!"

when were the two of you on first name basis?

gojo satoru, in all his glowing glory, stormed into your room like a hurricane with a grin that reflected heaven's light itself and a bag of sweets from a bakery you knew all too well. he shut the door with his foot⏤why did he close the door⏤and avoided all the stuff you had laying across the floor before placing the bag on a clear part of your desk and tossing himself onto your bed.

"i've missed you so much, you know!" he whined and grabbed the dinosaur plushie situated in the crack between the wall and the edge of your bed. "you kept it!"

Only because he forced you to.

you sighed in disappointment and grabbed all your cups and paintbrushes to place them in a plastic container headed for the bathroom. "what are you doing here?"

"geez, is that any way to talk to your fiancé?"

"burn in hell."

"whateveeeeerrr! i got you your favorite. the chocolate chip cookie croissant!" the white-haired man rolled his eyes like this was simply playful banter and not literal words from the depths of your heart. he grabbed the bag and after rummaging through, pulled up some packaged good. 

how did he know that was your favorite pastry?

"thank you," you murmured back in reply. "if that's all, please leave. i'm sure sister wants to see you."

you grabbed a paintbrush with a smaller tip to begin adding the little details to the painting, but gojo didn't get the hint. he sat on your chair and looked up at you to watch you paint. there was a smirk on his face that told you he knew something you didn't, and it got under your skin like a parasite.

"stop looking at me like that."

"like what?"

"i said stop looking at me like that!"

"ugh, fine! you're no fun! how are we supposed to spend the rest of our lives together if you act so cold? you know... i know tomorrow is your birthday."

... shit.

your hold tightened on your paintbrush, but you sighed and shrugged. "okay? and?"

"I just wanted to ask because i know emerald is your favorite. we should've went shopping for it before the wedding, but i figured that since you didn't like going out, i'd just get them myself. what type of ring do you want? emerald? diamond? ruby? oh! i should get you one of those, uh, santa maria aquamarine gems! it matches my eyes, aaaannnndddd we can make it into a necklace for you!"

emerald? diamond? a wedding ring...

not a ring. a curse trapping you with him forever.

you remembered not too long ago when he had asked you if you wanted to wear a western styled gown or a traditional kimono picked out by his mother, and you thought he was joking. he had hated you for so long⏤going as far as to making your life physically hell, but then he strangely flipped a switch? you were supposed to believe that the man who scarred you as a means to rebel against your future marriage with him suddenly jumped in excitement at the sight of you? a man who didn't bother to glance your way for seven and a half straight years before finally talking to you willingly just magically knew all your likes and dislikes, the future dates on your calendar, and every contact on your phone?

damn it.

why did your parents pick you to get engaged with him instead of your sister?

"[name]? are you ignoring me again?"

huh?

"no! no, i'm not!" you lightly shook your head, but the damage had been done.

gojo rose and took off his glasses as a menacing look in his eyes was pinned on you. he grabbed a hold of your waist, hugging you from behind so tightly you felt like your ribs would shatter. his cheek rested on your shoulder, and the words that he whispered in your ear felt like your doom being set in stone.

he tightened his hold on you as a hand came to wrap around your throat.

"i don't think you know you're mine."

and he squeezed.

"forever."

[ymechi]

Who is the real Creator?

-TW: cult, yandere, impostor au, mentions of hunt

-Gn reader and darling (please tell me if I mess this up message me and I will fix it)

plot idea (This was inspired by another post but i can't find it ToT):

Reader is friends with Darling. Sometimes Reader helps Darling with dailies, grinding and building the characters.

Somehow reader ends up in Genshin Impact but it's in Darlings world.

Reader is mistaken as an entity that is trying to take over and harm Darling as they have been controlled by Reader before and do not like it.

The Reader is hunted down and shunned it all comes to a stop once Darling descends and stops the hunt. Misunderstandings are cleared and Reader is finally safe from the crazy Acolytes.

All should be fine now except it was the Reader who created Darling's account and gave it to them.

This is part 1, Part 2, part 3, part 4

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Reader wiped the sweat on their forehead with the sleeve of their robe. The Sumeru weather was rather hot this midday as the sun was at its peak. With nothing better to do Reader decided to dust off the front of their house.

It was more akin to the size of a cabin and rather isolated yet Reader loved it as it gave them the privacy and security of four sturdy walls. A place entirely of their own *they could control* and it was far enough they did not have to suffer the company of people.

Reader was rather thankful for the Dendro archon to gift them this place.

After what they have been through it was more than deserved, no?

They did not really know what to think of Nahida. On one hand, she had not tried to kill them or hurt them, she was one of the few people who did listen to their side. On the other hand, she was an archon and Reader's experience with the other was not. . . They had no words to describe it. It was plainly a negative horrible experience that still haunted Reader as they slept at night. Their only solace was that the mess of the events that happened months ago was over and that they were a Free person once again.

It does not help that occasionally the archon would give them an intense blank stare that did not suit her young face. Whenever she stared at them like that Reader wanted to bolt through the nearest exit but the stare was gone as quickly as it came.

Reader continued to dust off the porch collecting the dust and dead leaves on a pile they had left the dustpan inside of the house. Just when they were about to head inside to grab it they saw two familiar figures. There was no doubt that the floating figure and golden hair belonged to the Traveler and Paimon, the latter already giving a wave.

Reader gave a small smile and returned the wave.

"Reader! Long time no see how have you been?" said Paimon.

"Hi Traveller, Hi Paimon sorry you had to come and see this mess, I have been fine hopefully you guys kept out of trouble?"

Paimon answered with a sheepish smile.

The Traveler greeted them and Reader ushered both of them inside the house towards the kitchen and made them sit while they prepared some tea.

"It looks like you settled in nicely Paimon is happy for you Reader."

"Thank you Paimon, yeah it's been really nice here."

Reader put the kettle on the stove and almost forgot how to be a proper host.

"Oh right, I have some leftover cookies! Let me grab that."

"You don't have to overexert yourself Reader," said the Traveler with a gentle smile.

"No- no it's fine I was trying a recipe the other day and I made too much, you guys have to eat it all by the way or else it's rude"

"Well, then we would be bad guests if we don't eat right traveler?"

The traveler did not reply and gave his floating companion a deadpan expression. It was rather amusing to see how to see in real life rather than the game - this is not a game anymore stop that.

Eventually they bought over the cookies and poured the tea. Reader was rather proud of themselves for once. Paimon did not hesitate to dig in and they were rather delighted that their cookies were being enjoyed. The Traveler sipped his tea calmly. Reader smiled and blew on the hot tea before also drinking it.

"I see you have been reading about the history of this world?"

"Yeah it gets rather boring just cleaning here, the Dendro Archon dropped by and gave me some books, she's smart since I don't really know much about this world."

"Yeah! Despite looking so young Nahida is really perceptive and wise, Paimon is kind of jealous."

Aether looked at his companion with a playful look and Reader knew he was about to tease his companion. They tried to hide a smile behind the teacup as they took a sip.

"Ohh! Paimon almost forgot! Darling asked us to deliver a letter!"

Reader's smile tensed a little. Aether's previous playful look was gone and he looked at them with concern. Reader held the teacup more harshly than necessary. It was fine they did not need to be babied. They gave Aether what they hoped was a reassuring smile.

Reader was still confused about how to behave around Darling. That person was their best friend, they had been friends since before Reader could remember and all the way to adulthood sharing an apartment. Yet knowing that the person you trusted the most was behind your suffering, even indirectly? It hurt like shit. Reader could not even meet Darling properly since one of their cursed "acolyte" or whatever the hell they called themselves always trailed behind Darling and Reader refused to be near any of those acolytes who actively tried to kill them before. So both were at an awkward standstill.

Isn't it supposed to be bros before hoes? What the hell Darling.

Paimon gave them the letter and Reader tried to thank them without sounding off.

Looking at the letter Reader wanted to scoff, what were they a 1800s paramour?

They looked at Aether they did not want to be rude and read the letter while they were in a conversation. Reader thought it would be the equivalent of reading chat messages while in front of friends, which was impolite. Aether gave them a smile and a nod, and Reader felt a bit at ease.

They opened the letter.

Huh.

They were a little taken aback by how normal this letter was. Reader looked up and Paimon was looking at them rather curiously but tried to hide it by staring at her tea.

"Darling says they are a bit overwhelmed being the creator and all otherwise they are fine it seems."

"Ohh Paimon would bet it would be super stressful taking the position of the creator like that, Alhaitham was so busy as acting grand sage," she brings a hand to her head mimicking it as if it was heavy, "Paimon imagines there is a lot of paperwork."

Reader laughs, it was nice to hear Paimon light-hearted take.

"Yeah Darling mentions that."

Reader does not mention the worries of their friend(?) in the letter or their stress that is something private between them. Things change yet Darling still confides in them Reader is not sure how to feel about that as they sip their tea.

The rest of the day goes smoothly as they all converse about Paimon and the Traveller's adventures in the newest nation, soon it was time to say goodbye and Reader did it with a smile.

.

.

.

"Come on where did I put it?"

Reader said in a frustrated tone as they barrage through the books on their shelves. They know they had the book somewhere for the class. The professor on that topic was someone who always made snide comments on the failure of students and whatnot and Reader did not want to have to deal with that.

"I hope I did not come at the wrong time?"

"Lord Kusanali! I did not see you there, sorry for the mess."

It felt like deja vu when the Reader said that, remembering the time the Traveler came to visit them.

Nahida smiled and shook her head. From the open door they could see Wanderer standing outside. He looked a bit grumpy then again he usually always looked grumpy, a shame for someone with such a beautiful face.

"Please call me Nahida Reader I like to think we know each other well enough now."

Reader gave Nahida a sheepish smile and wrung their hands together it was a nervous tic.

"Sorry everyone calls you that or well Dendro Archon I did not want to disrespect you I sort of owe you a lot"

"No it is we who owe you a debt -," She looked rather sad, and seeing Reader's expression she changed topic rather quickly, "I came to talk about your recent activities I am very happy to see you being more active and joining classes."

"Ohh, Thank you," Reader paused a bit before answering, "I used to be a student. . . before I came here so it's nice having something familiar."

Nahida looked at Reader with a beam and they continued to talk about the classes Reader took and whatever they taught about officially joining a darshan. As Reader turned around briefly they missed the glossy and contemplative look the Archon gave them.

They finally found their book and with the Archon (and Wanderer) in tow headed towards the Akademiya. Turns out they did not need to find the book the moment the professor saw the tiny Archon he went pale faced and Reader had to hide a smile. Wanderer was not so subtle as he loudly snickered.

.

.

.

It's been so long I hope you are doing okay I do miss you. . .

Reader folded the letter and looked out the window. The night skies here were clear no city lights and pollution that distorted the view. The stars shined without care, Reader felt a sudden chill and headed towards bed covering themselves in the blankets. They still looked out towards the sky.

"Miss. . . I guess I do miss you."

.

.

.

After everything was said and done Reader laid in the bed alone in the infirmary. There was a nurse and a doctor and whenever they came Reader would shake like a flame about to be put out easily by a gust of wind. They could not handle human interaction anymore. Once Darling came they were alone. Darling had cried and Reader had cried before an acolyte Came over and Reader looked at Darling horrified.

Why was Darling with those psychopaths did they not know what they were capable of? They might hurt Darling she needed to get away-

Reader must have gone into hysterics because soon the nurse came and injected them with something.

It was later told to them by the Dendro Archon herself in person that Darling was the creator. The cause of the hunt was because of Darling their childhood best friend.

Reader hugged themself.

Reader asked if they could speak to Darling but the Dendro Archon said the acolytes would have to follow them, they did not trust Reader in this condition.

As if they were not the psychopath who tried to kill an innocent person Reader thought.

Reader did not want to meet Darling if it meant having to meet the acolytes.

Reader was so so tired and just wanted to sleep.

.

.

.

Sumeru's climate was rather weird to Reader who never lived in a tropical climate before. It seemed to rain and while hot at the same time. Reader who grew up in the north much like Snezhnaya's climate was confused as it only rained in the cold autumns rarely do you get rain in summer but they adapted quickly.

Yet something felt off this particular day, they tried to distract themselves by doing dishes. Outside the rain was still going on but Reader noticed how eerily quiet there was no rustling of the winds or a single bird finding shelter in the trees. They quickly wiped their hands and strode towards their desk.

Reading was always a good distraction nothing beat reading while it rained, they remembered how they would sometimes turn on a raining asmr video as they read fanfics. The silly memory brought a smile to their face. But just as they saw down they heard a loud knock. Reader jumped up from their seat.

Their chest felt heavy. Unless it was Nahida, the Traveller or the Wanderer who in the early days delivered groceries to them, no one came to visit them they doubted it was a robber why bother knocking then? Maybe it was someone lost or seeking shelter from the rain both options sucked they did not want to entertain people yet, they wrung their hands together. When someone was in need they could not look away anymore.

They ran towards one of the dressers and bought a spare towel and scurried for the entrance door. With hurried and clumsy motions they opened the door and there-

Was Darling.

Darling looked. . . distraught, they were a mess from the last time they saw each other. Gone was the intricately styled hair and neat robes instead their hair was a mess and their clothes wrinkled. Even their face looked pale and it looked like Darling had not slept in days. Most notable was the lack of acolyte trailing after them, Reader almost expected to hear Zhongli's "I will have order!" followed by a meteorite striking Reader down and their cabin.

"You- Wait are you alright what is going on? Why are you alone? Did something happen?"

Darling still looked distraught and everything seemed really wrong, perhaps they should have been calmer when they asked their questions they did not need two people who were on the verge of panic.

"R-reader I-I," they paused before breathing in, "I bleed red," they said as if that single revelation could destroy them.

"Huh?" Reader replied dumbfounded

[kamisama1kiss]

HIIIII THE MOVIE WAS SO GOOD AND I SAW YOU WERE TAKING REQUESTS AND OMG OMG COULD YOU DO A NEKOMA MANAGER x KENMA PRETTY PLEASE ITS OKAY IF NOT BUT ANYWAYS THE MOVIE HAS ME AUGH!! Ah! preferably the prompt i think would be fun is either Kenma and Y/N going to the conbini and/or arcade in the middle of the night after the loss (they sneak out of the hotel) or Arcade/GameStop Worker!Reader x Regular!Kenma. This is my first time making a request so HOPEFULLY I did this right!!

The movie is so good, like wow. I actually did some small researching for snacks for a konbini 😝🫶 You did great, BTW! Loved the cute idea!! ♡

Song of choice: Sweet by Cigarette After Sex

!⚠️Spoilers from The Dumster Battle will be mentioned shortly⚠️!

~~~

Kenma Kozume { Midnight Snacks }

"Not of your brightest moments {Name}" Kenma spoke with the volleyball manager, walking next to him along the streets of Japan for a breather. "Perhaps not, but you didn't say no."

They smiled at him, finding his constant small frown from having to leave the comfort of sleeping to go out, alongside his switch being placed into their pocket for no purpose of being used.

"It has been a long enough day as is." not adding much of an answer while he was still tired from the match with Karasuno. Shrugging a shoulder at what he had side, "This just a short trip to clear our minds, besides its good for you to go outside some more."

They spoke gently, placing a light hand on his shoulder. The walking stops in a halt. "I know this was hard on you after how it ended, with the ball falling out of your hand at the end."

Almost as he held his breath when it was mentioned, his shoulder stiffened as well, feeling guilt from earlier. Nonetheless, he had experienced a new feeling. "You had fun playing volleyball today, I saw it. We all saw it." A soft patting motion with the hand resting on his shoulder, further making their way down the street lit path.

Rounding the corner in silence, the loudest sounds were easily picked up by the sounds of shoes hitting the concrete. It was maybe quiet but not uncomfortable. Simply, a warm aura wrapped the duo.

It could be seen as Kenma eyed them. Hesitation was shown in his movements, with enough curridge his hand finally latched on to their hand. It was pinkey linked, a small form of affection that he rearly initiated himself.

Hearts beating as one, with the stars dancing along the dark canvas up above. Comfort was broken at some point. "We could head to the konbini, up ahead." They suggested in a soft whisper, pointing briefly with their head. "A night snack could be nice."

The night felt as a warm breeze when they now had a destination to make. He was quiet, but not many words needed to be exchanged between the two. Lazily smiling as his eyes would softly admire how the moonshine hit their face, never having gotten the grasp of how they even ended up together.

With a blink of en eye now standing in front, one of the few ials of snacks, food, and simple groceries along such. "Hm, I feel for a strawberry sando. You?" They asked him while they reached for the strawberry snack.

His cat-like gaze roamed before reaching his wish. "A apple pie flavoured Umaibo." Reaching for one alongside it being not too far from where they stood.

"I'll pay." They said even before he could even utter another word. "Are you sure? I could pay for my own just fine." Raising a light brow but gives them the snack if choice anyhow.

"I insist, take it as a treat. You paid for the last one." They grinned at him as they now spinned on the heel to go upfront, lightly tugging him after with the pinkey still being held.

With yet another flash of a blink, they sat outside of the konbini, each munching on their respected snacks. "You know, this evening was pleasant, actually." He mumbled after a second bite, looking over at them only to already be greeted by a pleased and eased smile.

"I am glad to hear so." They lightly spoke, the moon shunned yet again on the two, giving them a soft glow. Going from linked pinkey to hands completely intertwined as time went on.

~~~

Hope you all enjoyed this little Kenma Kozume snippet!♡

[celestialprincesse]

Mustang 🌵🏜️

The morning after dinner with Simon, you sit patiently on your porch swing, a chipped mug of coffee clutched in one hand, a pen knife balanced between the fingers of the other. Fortunately, the mornings aren't yet sweltering enough to wake covered in sweat and kick off the thin sheet from your bed. The sun still rises languorously over the horizon, and you wake with it.

Simon Riley is surprisingly pleasant, and you begrudgingly admit to yourself that Marlene had been right, perhaps you do need to get out more, meet new people, get over it. Perhaps you like him because he's like you. He's quiet, peaceful on the surface, undoubtedly roiling underneath. It's impossible to miss when you know the feeling so well. Tyres crunching on gravel snap you from your reverie, the black truck, some shiny new ford pulling in your driveway, cab doors swinging open to let its driver out.

"Nice." An appreciative eyebrow is raised in the direction of the truck, amusement barely hidden at its cleanliness. You struggle to imagine him spending meticulous hours cleaning the vehicle - when you do picture Simon Riley shirtless and suntanned, working meticulously to rid the truck of dust and dirt, you internally chastise yourself before walking down the rickety porch steps to greet him. "You left your pot." His gruff accent feels so odd to you still, so out of place whilst still being so somehow pleasant, sending shivers down your spine. "Shit. So I did." The enamel of your Dutch Oven is cool against your hands, chilled from the AC in his car. Still not used to the warmth, you suppose.

"You want a drink?" You hum as you wordlessly make your way back up the porch steps, Ness nipping at your heels as you usher Simon and the collie into your cozy kitchen, quick to shut the screen door behind you. "I got sweet tea, coffee, lemonade." "You got earl grey?" "Do I look like the type to have earl grey?" "Black coffee then, please."

Ness seems to like him. Good judge of character, you think. You hope. Maybe she likes him because of how similar he is to you, and you can't help but appreciate the newcomer as he pets the bicoloured ears of your pet. Your place is exactly how he pictured it'd be, cozy in a lived in sort of way, knickknacks scattered across the countertops and shelves and the occasional picture of what he can only assume is you as a kid strewn haphazardly. The coffee maker whirs quietly to life as you busy yourself with retrieving a plate of biscuits from the fridge, chucked in there to avoid the occasional fly that managed to get through the screen in the rushed moments where you failed to close it all the way.

"Biscuit?" "Just coffee is fine." "Your loss." You quip back, putting the plate back in its rightful place, by which time the coffee has brewed and you pour Simon a chipped mug full. "So, the fastback." Simon manages a little awkwardly, dwarfing your mug between his palms. "Ah, the elephant in my garage." The crappy joke makes you actually cringe, eyelid twitching as you angle your head back to the door, making your way to the garage, in which you pull the cover from the red painted mustang with an awkwardly executed flourish.

Upon assessing the car, Simon grunts out a quiet "Shit", turning to you with an almost concerned look. "You pay for this?" It seems weirdly as though he's mad, like anyone who charged you for this useless hunk of metal and rubber had committed some kind of sin, like they'd kicked a puppy or shunned god away. "No. No, guy said if I could fix it up it was mine." "Good. Cause it's worth fucking naught."

Simon spends the morning tinkering with the car. Pushes it out of the garage with pure brute strength so that he can look at it properly, says he'll fix your garage light whilst he's at it. When he appears at the kitchen door like a lost dog, cautious to shut the screen door, he can't help but appreciate the way you turn to face him, leaning the swell of your hip against the countertop. "The biscuit offer still open?" "You're fixing my shitty car and you already looked at my garage light. At this point I owe you more than just biscuits." You chuff.

The veteran can't help himself but to ogle your ass as you bend in front of your fridge to retrieve the biscuit plate, along with a jug of sweet tea and two chilled glasses.

"Prepared." "Ah, figured you'd get thirsty at some point."

There's something pleasant about the quiet of it all. Reminds him why he moved out here in the first place. The quiet nicker of horses and the sight of a beautiful woman making him lunch after spending hours out in the unforgiving heat. It makes him feel weirdly grateful, something he hasn't felt in a while. He's at your side as you rustle up some other food, something more substantial for a man of his size who's just spent four hours in the steadily boiling heat. He likes the way you don't flinch when a tentative arm slips around your waist to grab the glasses you'd set out on the counter, moving them to the table before returning to press his shoulder against yours.

"Need me to do anythin' else?" "Just stand there and be hot." Slips out before you can stop yourself, and your hand flies to cover your mouth, all whilst he stands, massive arms crossed against his chest with a smug. "Yes, Ma'am."

ᯓ★

Today felt like such a good day to write these two I promise I didn't forget about them!! I love them!! They're my emotionally wounded babies!!!

[nanivinsmoke]

❥ 1000 Years Too Late

❥ heian!era sukuna x fem!reader

warnings: TRIGGERING & HEAVY spoils for the recent jjk chapter, if you don’t wanna be spoiled nor triggered, please don’t read.!

❥ trigger warnings & tags: mentions of death, suicidal thoughts & attempt, struggles with grief, reincarnation of sukuna’s deceased lover, unwanted pregnancy, depression, (sukuna inhabited a different body when he was with you) etc...

note: punishment for all my hunnibuns, since yall didn’t submit for the summer event. also i added a lil twist on the jjk plotline to fit this

it was over. they won, but you lost. lost the one thing that mattered to you.

you knew this was going to happen, but nobody can prepare you for death. how could they? especially for this one. they would judge you and shun you away from the academy, if they knew how you felt.

you watched as they rejoiced, reuniting and celebrating the end of sukuna, while you stood there sulking—trying so hard not to wallow in your sorrows.

he was the love of your life and now he is gone.

you stood at the spot where he died, trying so hard to feel his spirit or his energy, but there was nothing. he was truly gone. the two of you had fallen in love by accident, you couldn’t remember how it began, but you could remember how much the two of you loved each other. despite you both being on opposite sides, you couldn’t hate each other.

it was unfortunate how the world turned out for the two of you.

you entered your apartment and you immediately tensed up—immediately being hit with the cologne he used to wear. should you even be here? everything reminded you of him, the last plate in the sink that he used, the smell of the aftershave he used this morning, his crimson red slippers by the bed and his side of the bed that had grew cold.

you were alone, left alone once again. you lied down on his side of the bed, cuddling under the plush blanket, staring up at the ceiling—darkness clouding the room. ‘why’d you have to leave me? how am I supposed to move on?’ a tear trickled out of your eyes and then the flood gates opened.

you spent the whole night crying your eyes out, heart yearning for him once again.

the following days had gotten worse for you, you felt like you were decaying—mentally. you hadn’t left your place, ignoring the calls from your coworkers and your parents, you hadn’t showered, you had no motivation to nor have you eaten anything. his death took everything out of you, all you could do was drink. drink the pain away.

you sat in your bed tossing back the bottle of jack daniels that was sitting inside one of the kitchen’s cabinets. you had been drinking so much that the burn that accompanied the liquor had faded and it started to taste like juice. the vibrating sounds of your phone made you tense up, irritating you by the second while you ignored it; making you pick up—ready to drunkenly curse out the person on the other side.

that is until you heard their voice, the voice of your boyfriend's killer, the only one who knew of your relationship with the king of curses. yuuji itadori.

“hello? y/n–sensei?” you cringed, swallowing back your anger as you answered him back.

“hello yuuji, what’s up?” there was a pause on the other end and you took the opportunity to take another swig of the dark beverage.

“we haven’t seen you in a while….i just wanted to see how you were doing….” you had to stop yourself from chuckling, swallowing more and more of the bronze drink.

“im fine. is that all?” your words came out harsher than you intended, but that would’ve been a problem if you were in the right state of mind. “i'm not buying that. im coming to check on you, sensei. I’ll be there soon.” he said, hanging up on you—making you curse in frustration. you threw the bottle at the nearby wall, the glass shattering into a thousand tiny pieces and staining it with its contents.

you knew you shouldn’t be mad at him, he was a kid after all—being pulled into this mess, having to deal with everything as well. but, you didn’t know what else to do? who else to blame?

you got up from your bed, sulking on the way to the bathroom; stripping off your clothes and stepping to into the shower—turning on the water to boiling hot; the water burning away your thoughts. this was the only time you hadn’t thought about sukuna, the shower freed your mind. all you could think about was the pleasing feeling of the scalding water piercing your thoughts.

after a good ten minutes in the shower, you got out and put on something comfortable, waiting for the teen to come to your place. and a few more minutes, he was there, staring at you—like he could see right through you. “you miss him, don’t you?” the pink haired boy spoke, not wasting anytime. you looked at him and chuckled, before going into your favorite cabinet; the liquor cabinet. opening the strong bottle of vodka, you quick downed some; ignoring yuuji.

“before i killed him—,” he paused, seeing the look on your face after he said that before continued, ignoring your eyes. “he told me to go to this place, must’ve been his castle years ago, and told me to find this crate with your name on it.” he went out into the hallway and grabbed the crate, bringing it in to show you. it was filled with a bunch of letters, all signed to you.

“i never read any of them, y/n–sensei, i figured it was something special for you. help you get closure.”

“closure?” you stifled a laugh, raising any eyebrow at the boy. you burped, picking up the bottle of alcohol and shoving some more of its liquid down your throat. he could see that you were drunk, but you were also hurting.

“how the hell would you know what i need? hm?”

“because it’s not good to carry everything on your shoulders. trust me i know.” he put his hand onto of yours, eyes holding sincerity, but you couldn’t see that; heart wouldnt let you. you pulled away from him and stood a few feet back—face contorted into a scowl. “you should go.” yuuji opened his mouth to protest, but he knew shouldn’t. instead, he turned on his heels and head for the door, before saying one last thing.

“sensei, if you ever need help, im one call away.”

you avoided those letters like the plague. walking past them each time you went to retrieve a new bottle of your liquid medicine. you didn’t have the strength to, you feared that it might push you over the edge.

sukuna was on your mind heavily as you sat on the couch, flipping through the channels on the television—with a bottle in the other hand. you decided on a channel, a romantic movie playing on the big screen. you laughed in disgust at the main character, so helplessly in love—stupidly in love. you cringed when the character experienced her first heart break, rolling your tired eyes at her dramatics, that is until she received a letter. a letter from her lover.

it was like you were watching a movie about yourself. like someone was controlling you life in a way. you looked at the letter’s sitting on the island before looking back at the tv, before you got up and went over to the crate. You swallowed thickly and rummaged through them, pulling out one that had caught your eye. you ran your hand over the black ink, his handwriting thick and neat, envelope smelling just like him.

carefully tearing it open, you stared at the contents, finding a seat at the island.

‘ a thousand years ago, i ruled the world. i was nefarious, everyone bowed down to me—they respected me. i was king and then there was you, my queen. ’ you paused, taking a minute to process what the hell he was talking about. you took another swig from your personal mini bar before looking at the letter once more.

‘ i know you’re confused, i can see your face scrunching up in my mind. cute. ’ you giggled, heart swelling at you imagining him, imagining you.

‘ you were born a thousand years ago. you were everything i was not. you completed me, even though you were just a human, you made me feel more than just a curse. you made me, me. ’ your lips were trembling and you had to bite them to stop yourself from crying. he always had a way with words.

‘ you were fearsome, a little cruel at times (my kind of lady), but you were respected. however, some people didn’t feel the same and they had it out for you. you were cursed, one that would ultimately end up taking your life. after a passionate night of love making between you and i, we shared a kiss and that was the last one we ever shared. you died in my arms that night ’

plip. plip. plip.

your tears stained the letter, heart breaking into a thousand pieces. you knew that he was crying as he wrote this letter, words smudged where he was writing—that was rare for him. he was heartbroken just like you were.

' I watched the light go out of your eyes. i had to bury you. i was filled with emotions, one that i know a bit too well. rage. i killed everything and everyone in sight, trying to find a way to get you back…..it took me forever to find one. until, i met you again. the day that I saw you, i knew i had to keep you safe. you were fighting against me and i had to act like i didn’t know you, it was all part of my plan. i fell for you ten times harder and you slowly did as well. however, i found out that the curse reincarnated with you and how to break it. ’

you sipped the last of the burning booze, wiping your eyes that continuously watered with sadness. you pinched the letter, no longer wanting to read the rest of the letter, but you knew you had to. you had to know why, why the love of your life had to die.

‘ i found out the way to break it about a week ago and by the time you’re reading this, im probably already gone. the only way to break this curse was for me to die and i didn’t, you would die and be reincarnated over and over again if you continued to fall in love me. i couldn’t do it, I couldn’t see you die another thousand years later. i couldn’t lose you. so im doing what i gotta do. im sorry. ’

oh. the paper got wet.

the black ink smudged with your rainfall of tears. you couldn’t stop, your heart aching, breaking into a thousand pieces. why did the universe hate you? what did you ever do to deserve this? why did you have to live?

the bottle of bacardi fell to the floor, as you stumbled getting up—vision blurred with your sadness. you stepped on the clear shards, pricking your feet as you walked, not caring about the stinging sensation coursing through them. you staggered towards the bathroom, gripping the sink’s cool porcelain, & opening the medicine cabinet that lied behind the mirror. you picked up a random pill bottle, whipping the cap off and pouring a small handful into your mouth.

swallowing it with the help of the water from the sink’s faucet, you slid down to the tiled floor—sitting there until the drugs took full affect.

your eyes were getting weaker and weaker by the second, heart beating crazily in your chest and all you could do was lay back and smile. you were finally at peace, ready to be reunited with your love. until you felt a buzzing in your pants pocket. you weakly reached in and pulled out your phone, seeing the missed notification from itadori. oh. you smiled and opened the device, going to your text messages and pushing the little microphone icon.

“goodbye, yuuji.”

the effects of the pills consumed your body, putting you in a comatose state—a white light taking over your mind.

the sounds of medical machinery caused you to stir, eyes lids heavy as you tried to open them. the brightness of the lights above you, made you cringe, until you relaxed and was able to open them completely—taking around your surroundings. you were in fact, still alive.

you noticed there was tube inside of you mouth and you started to panic, that is until who hand came over and unplugged it for you, allowing you to gasp for air. “you’re lucky to be alive, y/n. thank yuuji for that.” shoko’s raspy voice rang in your ears and you met her eyes, tears welling in them.

“and did you know that you’re pregnant?” shoko asked and your eyes widened, there was no fucking way. after all that drinking you did, how can something like that survive in you?

almost like she could hear your thoughts, the brown haired woman spoke once more, “there seems to be some cursed energy in there. i don’t want to or need to know how, but i do need to know what do you plan on doing with it?” your mind was running a million miles per minute, a kid? a fucking fetus? you couldn’t, you couldn’t raise it—not now, not ever. not until you got help.

just as you were about to respond, there was a knock on your door and in came the pink haired teen. he smiled and looked at shoko, whom nodded her head and exited the room—leaving you two to have a mini staring contest. until, he decided to speak first, “I’ve got your text last night…I nearly raced over there—scooping you up and bringing you over here, auntie.” the name he called you made you raise an eyebrow.

“i went back to get a few things for you and I found the letter. it’s not your fault, you couldn’t control the past more can you control the future. it’s not his fault either. my uncle did what anyone would do in his situation, he might’ve dragged it a couple of times, but he lost the love of his life.” yuuji said with a little eye roll, causing you to chuckle.

“i know about your situation too…whatever you decide, im here every step of the way. you don’t need to do this on your own. he broke the curse so you could live, so live. “

you took those words to heart as you laid in the hospital bed, recovering. there was no doubt that you missed him and needed ryomen—but you know that dying now would make his death a waste. he died so you wouldn’t have to suffer, he was man; a cursed man yes—but he was the bravest man ever and you would forever love him.

“i got the last bag yuuji! tell fushiguro to help you with that one!” you shouted to the pink haired boy, grabbing the last bag from your empty apartment. you had recovered fully in shoko’s care a few weeks ago, you also signed up for therapy—to help you understand your feelings and better your mental health. you decided on getting rid of the unborn fetus, you were in no shape to carry such a thing. you weren’t strong enough and you knew sukuna would understand.

you sighed, looking around once more, taking in the memories before you moved to your new place. however, just as you were about to go, a white envelope caught your eye. you thought you shredded them all, but it seems that one was forgotten. setting down the bag of clothes, you leaned against the island and quickly opened it—heart thumping in anticipation.

‘ my love for you will never die. don’t fret my queen, ive might’ve been a thousand years too late, but i will forever love you a thousand years more. until we meet again. — ryomen . ’

you smiled, tears pouring out of your eyes while you kissed the letter, before bringing it over to the stove and lighting it on fire; burning it to a nice crisp.

that was the end of your story, but the beginning of a new one. take care, sukuna. and see you in hell.

[aylacavebear]

Soulmates? Yeah, right, pft. - Ch. 14

When you turn sixteen, and your soulmate's name doesn’t appear anywhere on your body that you can find, you figure you had to be the only person on the planet who didn’t have one. Most of the town shuns you, so you stick close to family. Your Aunt Ellen raised you after your parents died in a car crash when you were two, but what happens when the Winchesters return to town and buried secrets begin to come to light?

Pairing: Mechanic Dean Winchester x OC Reader/You

Word Count: 2214

Warnings: Angst, suspense, emotional situations, Crowley being Crowley.

A/N: This is my non-Supernatural fic I'm attempting. Please let me know what you think, as I always love hearing from my readers.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 14

When the SUVs pulled up to what looked like a heavily guarded wrought iron gate, attached to a thick brick or concrete wall, your heart almost felt like it would beat out of your chest. Dean at least still had his arm over your shoulders, holding you close, but your eyes were focused on the things outside. Outside the gates, all you could make out were the tall hedges and trees that had grown past the top of the wall, which you assumed encompassed the property. There were a few different types of vines, but they looked as though they’d been repeatedly cut back.

You wanted to ask where they’d taken you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to speak at the moment, even after what the judge had said. As the gates began to open, you felt like you were almost holding your breath. The driveway was neatly kept, winding its way through a pedicured landscape of trees, hedges, and flower beds. The mansion of a house where the SUVs stopped took your breath away. It was the most elegant and extravagant home you’d ever seen in person. The agent next to Benny opened the door, stepped out, and then held the door for the three of you. You swore your jaw had hit the pavement as you stepped out, staring up at the mansion before you when that Scottish accent pulled your gaze to the man coming down the steps.

“Oh good, you made it without incident,” Crowley stated, seeming quite pleased.

“What’s going on?” you asked, relieved it was Crowley and not someone from the Vaught family.

“I’ve made arrangements for you to stay here during the course of your case,” he explained. “One of my men will be back with your belongings, and theirs as well. Now, shall we get some brunch?”

You were still fairly confused, but you followed Crowley into his mansion, Dean by your side and Benny bringing up the rear. The interior of Crowley’s mansion was even more impressive than the exterior. As you stepped inside, your eyes were immediately drawn to the high ceilings adorned with intricate moldings and chandeliers that looked like they belonged in a palace. The walls were lined with dark wood paneling and elegant wallpaper, giving the space a sophisticated yet intimidating ambiance.

You walked through a grand foyer with a sweeping staircase that curved up to the second floor. The marble floors gleamed underfoot, and you could see various pieces of antique furniture and art tastefully arranged throughout the space. It was a stark contrast to the cold, sterile environment of the courtroom.

Crowley led the way down a long hallway, the rich scent of polished wood and old books filling the air. You passed several rooms, each one more opulent than the last, until you reached a set of double doors. Crowley pushed them open to reveal a lavish dining room.

The dining room was dominated by a long, mahogany table that could easily seat twenty people. The table was already set for a smaller group, with fine china, crystal glasses, and silver cutlery laid out meticulously. The walls were lined with tall bookshelves filled with leather-bound volumes, and several large windows allowed natural light to pour in, illuminating the room in a warm glow.

A chef and a few servants were bustling around, preparing the final touches for the meal. The aroma of bacon, cooking meat, and something that was perhaps a fine fish dish wafted through the air, making your stomach rumble in anticipation.

“Please, have a seat,” Crowley gestured to the chairs, taking his place at the head of the table. Dean guided you to a seat beside him, and Benny sat across from you, giving you a reassuring nod.

As you settled into the plush chair, Crowley smiled and spoke to the servants, “Begin serving, please.”

The servants moved with practiced efficiency, bringing out a covered plate for each of you, while others had platters with delectable deserts displayed on them. The aromas only made your mouth water further. Another servant set a chilled, open beer on a coaster near your, Dean’s, and even Benny’s plate while another poured Crowley a glass of what looked like fine wine.

Crowley dismissed the servant as he looked at you, his expression more serious now. “You must have many questions,” he said, taking a sip. “Feel free to ask anything you need to understand.”

You wanted to answer him, but the servants set a dish down in front of the three of you, revealing what had smelled so good. Yours and Dean’s contained the most delicious-looking burger you’d ever seen, while Benny got something that was clearly something he hadn’t had in a long time. You were just too focused on your burger at the moment to even ask what it was.

“Figured you lot would prefer something simple,” Crowley told you, seeing you focused on the meal and not his prior statement.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized, looking over at him as Dean squeezed your knee in a reassuring way. “Why are you doing this for us?” you asked finally.

Crowley’s eyes met yours, and for a moment, you saw a flicker of something softer behind his usual confident exterior. “Let’s just say, I have a vested interest in seeing justice served. The Vaughts have been playing games for too long, and it’s about time someone put a stop to it.” Dean leaned in slightly, his voice low. “We appreciate your help, Crowley. But what’s the catch?”

Crowley chuckled, setting his glass down. “No catch, Dean. Just a mutual benefit. You get the support you need for this case, and I get the satisfaction of seeing the Vaughts lose for once.” Benny spoke up, his tone serious. “We’ll do whatever it takes to win this. They’ve messed with the wrong people.” Crowley nodded approvingly. “That’s the spirit, Benny. Now, let’s eat. You’re going to need your strength for what lies ahead.” As the meal progressed, you found yourself relaxing slightly, the initial shock of Crowley’s opulent home giving way to a sense of determination. You had allies in the fight, and together, you were going to bring the Vaughts to justice.

Halfway through the meal, the double doors opened, instantly pulling your attention to what looked like a butler. “They’re here, Sir,” he told Crowley.

“Ah, wonderful,” Crowley replied, delighted as a smile played at his lips. “Show them in.”

The butler nodded, and a few moments later, Sam, Ellen, Jodi, Bobby, Mary, and John came into the dining hall. You instantly stood as Ellen made her way to you, tears in both your eyes as you embraced her in a tight hug.

“Oh, honey,” she told you softly, and you heard the sadness and relief in her tone.

“I’m okay, Auntie,” you replied quietly.

Ellen held you at arm’s length, her eyes scanning your face as if reassuring herself that you were truly alright. “We’ve been worried sick about you,” she said, her voice trembling slightly.

Dean, Sam, and even Benny embraced in hugs before Dean hugged John and Mary. Even Jodi and Bobby hugged the boys, then came over to you, giving you a soft, but relieved smile, embracing you in a hug. 

“We’re here for ya, kid,” John told you with the softest expression you’d ever seen on the man.

Crowley, ever the consummate host, gestured to the empty seats. “Please, join us. There’s plenty of food, and we’ve much to discuss.” As everyone settled around the table, the atmosphere shifted slightly. There was a sense of camaraderie, of a team coming together to face a common enemy. You wished that Jo could be there, as she was more like a sister to you than a cousin. And, oddly enough, even Cas and Garth. Just as you were finally feeling like you were relaxing, your mark began burning, horribly, a pained hiss leaving your lips just as Dean was getting out of his seat.

Crowley snapped his fingers a couple of times while you put your hand over your mark, missing whatever was being said. Moments later, though, Dean was putting cream on your mark. “It’s okay, I’m right here,” he attempted to soothe you as the entire room had gone silent.

“Well, now, this changes things,” Crowley mused from where he sat, leaning back in his chair. “Why wasn’t I informed about that?”

“About what?” you asked, only wincing slightly as you looked at him.

“With that,” he began, gesturing to your mark, “we’ve got a little more leverage.”

You tried to look down at your mark, but with where it was, you couldn’t see it. Frustrated, you looked back at him, “What are you talking about?”

He practically laughed, “Dean, you haven’t told her?” 

All Dean did was glare at him and the others stayed silent, which only annoyed you further. “Tell me what?” you snapped, clenching your hands in your lap.

“I was waiting,” Dean managed through a clenched jaw, clearly annoyed.

“Will someone tell me what the hell you’re talking about? I’m tired of this, of all of you keeping secrets from me,” you snapped at them, looking around the table as your anger finally boiled over. When no one spoke up, you just got up and walked off, practically slamming the dining hall doors. 

Crowley sighed and nodded to one of his servants, who promptly followed you. The servant was a young woman with kind eyes, and she caught up with you just as you were starting to feel lost in the labyrinthine halls of the mansion.

“Miss, please allow me to show you to a room where you can rest. Your bags have already been brought up,” she said softly.

Too tired to argue, you nodded and followed her. She led you up a grand staircase and down a long corridor to a beautifully furnished room. “If you need anything, just ring this bell,” she instructed, indicating a small ornate bell on the bedside table.

“Thank you,” you murmured, sitting on the edge of the bed as she left the room.

Meanwhile, back in the dining hall…

Dean, still fuming, stood up, “We agreed to tell her when her mark came in more.”

Crowley shrugged nonchalantly, although he wasn’t pleased about his secrecy, “It slipped my mind. Besides, she has a right to know.”

Sam sighed, running a hand through his hair. “This isn’t helping. How did she not notice one of the letters came in all the way?”

Dean sighed and sat back down, “She never looked in the mirror at it, and I didn’t have the heart to tell her to.”

“Son, she’s gonna be more hurt if you wait much longer,” John told him sincerely.

“Does she have at least an idea of how you’re connected to all this?” Crowley asked, although clearly frustrated, but needing further information.

“Not completely,” Dean reluctantly answered.

“Benny, did she even pay attention when Dean testified?” Sam asked, fairly puzzled how you wouldn’t have found out.

Benny sighed, “No. I was talkin’ to her. Tryin’ to help er’ relax a little.”

Crowley was usually a calm, collected man, but this frustrated him: "What does she know?”

Dean grabbed his beer, taking a sip before he answered, staring at the label, “I told her I know she’s my soul mate, part of the thing with Lisa, and that she’s an empath.”

“That’s it?” Bobby exclaimed in annoyance and frustration.

“That explains why she knows we’re hiding something,” Mary sighed, looking back at the closed dining hall doors.

“I didn’t want to make it harder on her,” Dean mumbled quietly.

“Dean, she has to be told, before her birthday, or it’s gonna hurt her more, and not just emotionally,” Sam told him, his tone soft but firm. “I know what I told you before, but she’s quickly running out of time.”

Dean’s attention went to the doors, his mind on only you and what you were feeling. He’d hated not telling, not letting himself get closer to you than you’d let him. He’d felt everything from the moment he’d seen you that first day at the bar, and it was tearing him up inside that you still doubted him. Sam had warned him of the risks of waiting too long, but he just hadn’t been able to find the right time and he didn’t want to do it once you two had gotten stuck in that bunker. “Dean, are you even listened?” Crowley asked him, frustrated and now leaning forward in his seat, pulling Dean from his thoughts.

“Yeah, I mean, no. I wasn’t listening,” he grumbled.

An annoyed sound left Crowley’s lips as he leaned back in his seat. “Her birthday is in two days. Either you tell her tomorrow, or I’ll have to make sure the doctor is here.” His tone was of concern for you more than for Dean.

Dean looked down at his beer, “She’s gonna hate me, but… I’ll tell her tomorrow.”

“Son, she’s gonna be mad at all of us, but she’s not going to hate us, especially not you,” John tried to reassure him, feeling bad for what not only his son had to go through, but also what you have had to endure.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 15

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If I missed tagging, please let me know. I had a lot of requests for tags for this one. If you'd like to be tagged, drop me a comment.

[mywitchcultblr]

I find it amusing how some anonymous users call you a hater and a child throwing a tantrum (as if sending hateful messages wasn't). How can they be so blind to this?

The DLC writing is dogshit at best, and I am being generous. FromSoftware not only butchered Miquella's character but other things too. What happened to him wanting to cure his and Malenia's curse? There's no mention of that. The Haligtree—supposedly a home for the shunned and mistreated? Nothing. Granting Godwyn a true death? Nada. The Eclipse? Pfff. The Outer gods and the unalloyed gold? What about him being Torrent's former master? (As the promotional art implied) And the steed choosing the Tarnished? If I recall correctly, wasn't Torrent meant to pick lords? So this means Miquella trusted Torrent enough to let it choose him a consort, yet our role there is practically non-existent. Besides that, as far as I'm concerned, for one to become a god, one must be in contact with the Elden Ring, such as Ranni did, yet we don't see that in the DLC. And the thing that bugs me the most is Miquella abandoning parts of himself, like his love. Like, yeah, "Age of Compassion," but there's something you need for that and it is, y'know, love??? Where's the sense in that? Wasn't the whole point of him become a god and fix Marika's mess in the Lands Between? Not following her steps.

I'm not even going to mention Radahn because his presence here is as irrelevant as in the game.

THANK YOU ANON! Finally someone with sense! People who are saying "Oh you are just angry because the DLC doesnt confirm your headacanon or expectation." The expectation exist because of hints and lore that already exist in the base game, of course you will want to see the big pay off in Shadow. Imagine if you are Dr. Who fan and seeing 13th Doctor turned into a weeping angel but then in the next episode it doesn't go anywhere and she's immediately fine again

I will list others things that aggravate me about SOTE

The battle between Malenia and Radahn: In the base game, their battle is implied to be over runes, and because he was halting the stars and thus Miquella's fate. Malenia invaded Caelid to get Radahn's rune and solving the halted fate business, while general boi also wanting to accumulate more power so he can be Elden Lord with taking hers. Simple but effective.

But now its over a marriage with Miquella?

While it made sense for him to ally with the Haligtree so Radahn can get into the fast track of becoming Elden Lord through marrying Miquella, there's 0 build up anywhere in the base that will led us to believe Radahn even got to do anything with Miquella.

Also while he is a warmonger and certainly not a good person (I dont care what chuds on reddit said, just because a guy likes his horse that doesnt make him nice, I don't even hate Radahn or anything) he genuinely cares about HIS OWN HOLDING.

Now from what I gather from the DLC, he will agree to become Miquella's consort if he got an epic battle first. So now the motivation for Malenia vs Radahn iconic battle is... It was a deadly sparring ritual before the groom settle down? Radahn can you at least do it in a neutral zone so this battle wont destroy your OWN LAND?! There's no way Radahn didn't know that sparring with Malenia could endanger Caelid, especially with the fact that she has ROT. Radahn might be a brute archetype but he's not stupid, yet this DLC made him looks like an absolute oaf who doesn't care about whatever Caelid will survive or not...

2. Mohg: I always thought he will return, he gives me the vibe of a villain who say "I'll be back!" and I thought there's no way the Formless Mother will allow her champion to die just like that. Yeah he's back but in the worst way possible that will make his fans despairing and his haters say "I hate Mohg but he didn't deserve this."

His arc in the base is good, it is conclusive and it made sense.

A guy who was born hated, abused, and shunned by his own mother decided to say FUCK IT and created his own order, cavorting with an Outer God, committed heresy left and right, then kidnapped his half brother so he can force/convince/manipulate/doing blood ritual whatever so Miquella will make him a consort. Then the Tarnished ruined his plan, killed him. It was a well-rounded arc. Its good enough. I always admired his tenacity to give a middle finger to his family. But now? This weird over engineered brainwashing-kidnapping thing undermined the authority of both Mohg and the Formless Mother. Did she even care about Mohg? Why the Formless Mother didn't try to stop Miquella or at least warned Mohg about it?

And what the fuck Mohg is actually doing down there? What was his plan to elevate his order and replace Marika's? How he will do it if he never wanted to become Miquella's consort? With his drip alone? Maybe there are things that I missed about Mohg's plan in the DLC?? But this DLC narrative now undermined his arc and the Formless Mother.

3. Mesmer: While he is still intriguing and judging from youtube (No i havent reach him personally, because you know I'm busy but I spoiled myself, I always do for something as big as BG3 or Souls) I thought he would play a bigger role in Shadow, but not really? He's kinda overshadowed by Radahn who is not supposed to be there

Also Rellana's existence sounds like a sitcom level plot twist? Its kinda funny LMAO "Oh you think Renalla's boss fight sucks and you think she is weak? HERE WE HAVE HER TWIN SISTER RELLANA! ITS THE UPGRADED VERSION OF CARIA 1.0!" (I do like the expansion and exploration of the Carian's family tho)

4. "What about him being Torrent's former master? (As the promotional art implied) And the steed choosing the Tarnished? If I recall correctly, wasn't Torrent meant to pick lords? So this means Miquella trusted Torrent enough to let it choose him a consort, yet our role there is practically non-existent." : THIS YOU ARE SO RIGHT ANON, Torrent chose the Tarnished and Miquella asked Ranni to give the spirit calling bell to whoever Torrent chose. THAT'S MEAN THE TARNISHED ALREADY HAS A CONNECTION WITH MIQUELLA, I'm willing to bet over my right arm, this Promised Lord that Miquella/Malenia mentioned is either supposed to be Godwyn or THE TARNISHED THEMSELVES!

Look Miquella need a lord strong enough to back his claim and help him to change the world right? Why insisting on chasing after Radahn (that never mentioned to have any connection or alliance with Miquella) WHEN YOU CAN HAVE THE GUY WHO DEFEATED RADAHN AND MALENIA THEMSELVES! The Tarnished is already strong enough to challenge MOTHER FUCKING GODFREY and won! It make 0 sense for us not able to become his consort. What do you mean you can make the dream of a guy who is literally called THE DUNG EATER came true and subjugated everyone into a world of pain because shit eater is an edgelord who thinks omens and their suffering are totally cool, but not MIQUELLA'S? Its so bullshit. In the grand scheme of things, Dung Eater is as relevant as a random Tibia Mariner.

I'm still hoping we can see Miquella's ending, I hope its gonna be added. I saw someone mentioned that there's actually Miquella's ending but not implemented? I hope it can be added and at least some aspect of the missing story/plothole fixed, because Elden Ring 1.0 was quite different than what we have now...

This guy on reddit also echoed my statement

5. Godwyn: I don't care what some people said "Oh Godwyn is not supposed to be there, its just your headcanon." Brother... This DLC is about Miquella and Mesmer (even though sadly Mesmer's role seems to be diminished :/) there's should be any mention about Godwyn because Miquella and Malenia loves him very much.

There's a statue of them hugging each other, and if I'm not mistaken there were people who data mined and found tidbits about Miquella trying to resurrect him and there's stuff about Miquella giving up his throne

Show us Miquella failed to resurrect Godwyn, show dont tell! (so it wont impact Fia's ending) or please give us a mentions about him by Miquella, or knights who used to serve pre-dead and rotting Godwyn appearing in Lands of Shadow, something, anything! its like his own family, doesn't give a fuck to solve the problem that his rotting body caused.

6. The gloam eyed queen and Melina: I thought GEQ will be mentioned, since this DLC also delved into Marika's past, I mean GEQ was her rival and she's nearly becoming THE God instead of Marika. But eh nothing about her or Melina :/ Tho I do like tidbits about Marika's past and her village

There's other things... But eh I'm tired of typing lol. I do enjoy Elden Ring, I really do, and I had such a high expectation for SOTE :/ so yeah I became loud about my disappointment because I'm invested

[caitlinsnicket]

deserving more

summary: izzy needs to be taken care of, and you do just that

warnings: low self esteem implied, sad izzy, angst, lots of fluff though

a/n: this is the longest thing i've ever written i've been manic for a whole week i'm going crazy i need him in my pocket (i'm also posting this on ao3 under the same name so,,,

Too long had passed since you got to the front of his cabin door, and even longer your hand hovered its handle. He could shun you, could throw something at your face, could stab you, he could be dead. You didn’t really care, to be honest, you just wanted him to be okay. Feeling yourself get calmer, and ready for whatever Izzy you could get (the angry, the moody, the melancholic, the drunk), your hand finally touched the handle and you opened the door.

He was sitting on his sad excuse for a bed, bottle of liquor halfway empty, hair falling on his forehead in such a way that no light reached his eyes. The whole room was a mess, things on the ground everywhere, and it was difficult for you to find a place to put down the things you brought with you.

“What do you want?” He said after a long sigh, taking another sip from the bottle and muttering something else that you couldn’t understand.

You had to choose your words carefully. You knew how he could be, but given his expression, which made your heart ache, you didn’t think he had any energy left in him.

“I want to help. Just… tell me how.”

Izzy took a sip of his drink, not bothering to look at you while you spoke. 

"And how can you help?" The former first mate asked, his tone somewhat rude. Still, no real venom behind his words.

You had to suppress a smile. He had no idea how endearing he could be.

“That’s what I’m asking, dear. Let me help you.” You stepped closer now, and he watched your every move. Izzy rolled his eyes, the drink almost empty already. 

"Fine. What can you do then? Sweetie, that is." He rolled his eyes, leaning back on the wall behind him. You chuckled, moving things around with your feet to make a smoother path for him. You didn’t dare look at his leg. You tried to focus on something else.

“Do you have more alcohol in here?” You ask as you take the bottle from his hand and throw it out of the room, not caring if it was smashed. You’d deal with it later.

He scoffed, getting up with difficulty and going up to a cabinet on the far left of his cabin. There, he retrieved another bottle, and struggled to get it open. 

“You’re lucky I don’t kill you for that. And I do have more stuff here, you got a problem?” He’s not managing to open it, and it’s such a weak attempt to show strength that it fills you with affection. 

You take the new bottle from his hands, gently so as to not startle him, and place it near the things you’ve brought with you. Keeping it for some other time might be a good idea.You try to make your voice soothing, as if he was a wild animal that could run off or bite at any moment.

“As long as I find it here, it’s going out. You stink, how long has it been since you’ve cleaned yourself? Time to get cleaned up.” You go to the tub on the right side of the place, filling it with the hot water you managed to bring, and start arranging things as they should be: the soaps and oils on a little bench beside the tub, a stool not too far away and a towel at arms length. Izzy scoffed again, but he made no attempts to try and take his drink back. 

"You think I stink? I took a bath not two days ago. I smell fine." He looked around, anywhere but you, and one might say he was embarrassed. 

“You stink because of the booze and the wet leather. And probably the dried tears. Come on, be a good boy and help me get you to the tub.” You reached for him, taking his arms gently in your hands. Izzy groaned and tried to pull away, but he was too weak to escape your grip. 

"I don't wanna."

“Shush now. There we go, look at the nice, warm water. I’d leave you to clean yourself, but you can barely stand. Is it okay if I help you with it?” It felt important to you that he knew he had power over himself and his body. He’d already been taken so much, it was the least he could have. Izzy groaned again, but a small part of him was starting to enjoy this, and he finally gave in. 

"F-fine."

“There’s my good boy.” You feel a flutter in my chest when his cheeks warm up a little, and reach for his gloves.

"Stop," Izzy said, blushing for a moment before he realized what he had said. The former first mate then covered his face in embarrassment. "I-I didn't mean to - I mean - this doesn't mean anything, alright?!"

“Right.” You extend the word as long as you can, and go back to the task at hand. You pull his hands back down, not looking at his face in an attempt to give him privacy. Still, you get a glimpse of his burning cheeks.

His hands feel warm against yours, the ink on them itching you to caress it with your lips. You try not to stare too much, soon moving to taking his vest out. His breath tickled your cheek, and if you looked up your lips would be inches away from each other. Reluctantly and with a deep breath, you take a step back to be able to look at him.

“I’m serious though. I just want to take care of you right now. We can talk about the meaning of things when you’re sober.” He started to get fussy again, but you pulled him back by his sleeves and started undoing the button on each of them.

"I can handle the meaning of things," Izzy said with a roll of his eyes. "I just want to sleep. I'll be alright, I swear." The former first mate then let his arms go limp as they were pulled back. "Get me clean, and then I'll think about meaning with you."

You don't answer him, instead, you get impossibly close, opening his shirt button by button, trying to ignore your quickened heartbeat.

“This okay?” You look at him this time, consequences be damned.

"Mph - yes - fine." Izzy was a little more than blushing at this point, his eyes darting somewhere else as you undressed him. "I know what you're doing, you know?" As his chest came into view, it became a little harder for you to concentrate on not biting him. You took a deep breath and a feeling of dread crossed you when you realized he noticed it. His cheeks were pink.

“Oh, really? What am I doing? Besides trying to take this off.” You stumble at the last word, his shirt completely off now, revealing his full chest and stomach. You licked your lips subconsciously, darting your eyes to the ceiling for a moment. “Now your pants.”

"You're trying to seduce me," He mumbled as he began to slide his pants down. "I know it's happening right now, and you can't deny it." He struggled a bit, but you didn’t dare to touch him then. He’d probably punch you if you tried.

You averted your eyes once his leg came into view, turning to the other side to give him privacy. Your fingers itched to touch him.

“I can’t seduce you, I know. You only have eyes for the captain. Even after this mess, it’s still him. I get it.” You inspect your shoes, alert to his grunts and movements. Soon, the sound of water splashing told you he was already inside the tub, and you turned back around.

“Then why even try? You know you can’t win, and I know you can’t win.” He sighed, splashing some water on his face, trying to wake up. “Don’t waste your time trying, because it’s never going to happen.” He slid himself up to his mouth in the water, watching you like a hawk.

“You’re worth it.” You say, hoping your voice doesn’t quiver, not looking at him while you take another bottle from your bag. “I’m going to sit behind you now and wash your hair, okay?”.

He ignores your warnings, staring into the distance as you pull a stool to the side of the tub and start organizing your items.

“ I'm really not." He mumbles, his voice hoarse. His expression was still grim, and he tilted his head in your direction to see what you were doing.

You gathered water on your hands, the warmth comfortable on your skin. You gently let it run down Izzy’s head, repeating the movements until his hair was completely wet. He sighed and leaned more to your side, his shoulders visibly relaxing. From your point of view outside of the tub, he looked small, like a hurt animal afraid to be hurt again. You opened up the bottle of hair wash that you stole from Stede’s cabin and started massaging his head very gently.

“I don’t know who told you that, but you are. To me, you are.” Talking about your feelings to him was easier when he wasn’t looking at you. He leaned back more, and you noticed his eyes were closed, the crease on his forehead almost gone.

“I’m a wreck.” He muttered, his hands moving slowly through the water. “How is that attractive?” His voice hesitated a little, and your heart skipped a beat.

“I mean, I was always into hot messes. You fit the description.” You said, a smile making its way to your face. Bubbles emerged from his hair, and you were careful to not let any of it go to his eyes. “Besides, I think you’re attractive even when you stink.” You scrape his scalp with your nails very tenderly, the touch barely happened.

Izzy shuddered, moving his head down slightly to avoid your wandering eyes. Still, you caught a glimpse of his pinkish cheeks and your smile got wider.

"Y-yeah, well - you're the only one then." He then glanced at you, a small smile on his face. "No one else likes me, I swear. The crew and the rest of the world despise me, and I can't blame them for that." The smile didn’t reach his eyes, as if he was making a joke at his own expense.

“You know what they call you? ‘Our Izzy’. They know why you're tough on them. I know why too. We know you care. I'm just the only one with romantic taste around here.” You rinse his hair from the bubbles, watching his chest going up and down as he breathes calmly. He didn’t respond for a while, simply playing with the bubbles in the water. His hair felt soft in your hands.

"I'm... too tough on them sometimes, I swear. I just... I just want to help them." His voice was so low you could barely hear it, a far cry from the man you first met when you boarded the ship. It felt hard to breathe for a moment.

“I know, dear, I know. It's alright.” You feel bold, and you lean down to kiss the crown of his head. He stills for a moment and then relaxes entirely. When you pull away, you get the soap and hold it out to him. “I'll let you wash yourself now, but I'm right here. Just... to talk or help.” I turn my back to him, trying to give him some privacy. There would be time for staring some other time. Hopefully.

Izzy held the soap in his hands, but didn’t use it yet. Instead, he stayed still, enjoying the feeling of the water around him and aching for the feeling of your fingers back on his scalp. He felt so comfortable he forgot what he was supposed to do, until you leaned back on the tub and he heard a thump.

"Right. Sorry..." The former first mate rubbed the soap along his arms, his legs, his back, anywhere that he could easily reach. You heard him groan and cover it up with a cough, probably cleaning his amputated leg. You felt your body boil at the thought of it, considering finishing the job with Blackbeard. After a while, you heard the sound of water splashing around, and then silence. "That felt nice." His voice broke when he said it, as if he was ashamed. You sighed at the bubbling affection on your chest, your first instinct to reach to him and squeeze him to you.

“Would you like me to continue? The water is still warm.” You turn slightly, so you could hear him better in case he whispered.

“I-I mean, if you’re offering, I wouldn’t mind.” You could hear the smile in his voice, and as you turned around you realized his eyes were previously closed. He opened them, his gaze glazed and tired. “I don’t want to be a bother. Just… Don’t do anything you’ll, y’know. Regret.” He quickly looked away, always ready for rejection. Expecting it. The only thing he’s ever known, by the looks of it.

The need to kill Ed burned in your veins.

Instead, you get the bottle of oil and put it in your hands, warming it up before you touch his head again, a happy sigh leaving his lips. His hair felt softer than ever as you moved slowly through its strands, leaving no part untouched.

“You’re the one thing I don’t regret.” I say, closer to his face now, studying his features and how the droplets of water dibble down his neck. Next, I inspect his hair, the strands making a stunning gradient of black, gray and white.

Izzy couldn't help but notice you looking at him. He cleared his throat a little, the blush on his face making another appearance. 

"Do I... Do I have something in my hair?" He was obviously fishing for a compliment here and hoping you'd just be nice and tell him how good he looked.  He didn’t realize how desperate he sounded. You turn your gaze to him, your positioning a little weird to stare at him properly, but comfortable nonetheless.

“No, just… You’re so pretty Izzy.” Your touch turns featherlight now, just touching him for the sake of being close.

Izzy went silent, his face growing even crimson at your compliment. His hands go back to nervously playing in the water. 

"I'm... I'm not pretty. Not in the slightest." His voice was almost shaky, and he tried to hide his face so you wouldn't see how much he was blushing. Your smile turns to a smirk, your fingers just brushing his hair back now.

“Well, I say you are. You're pretty and handsome and if you knew the power you have over people... The power you have over me.” You grow breathless, leaning closer to his ear. “You'd conquer the world.” In a whisper, you make him shiver, and he takes a quick glance at you before looking back to the water. His shoulders seem to relax, though.

"If I had that kind of power then I wouldn't be moping about right now." He thinks about the power he actually wanted to have, whose power he wanted to have, and his mind drifted off for a moment. It only took a second to realize that you were still looking at him, and he cleared his throat. "And, just how much do I have... 'power' over you?"

You took a moment to think. This would be it. You know there’s still life after this, and tomorrow will be another day, but it would change things. You look at him again, the tattoo on his cheek and neck, the strand of hair falling over his forehead. You move to stand beside him so you could look at him properly. He deserved to be looked at, to be acknowledged. You take a deep breath.

“I'd kill Blacçbeard for you. And Bonnet too. And anyone else you asked. I'd do anything, Izzy, just so you'd glance at me.” You lean in his direction, pushing the strands of hair away so you could get a clear view of his face. His eyes were the prettiest shade of brown. “That's why I acted like an idiot in the beginning.” You look down at your hands, then get up, feeling his eyes on you. From your bag, you get the clean towel and squeeze it in your hands, feeling its softness. “I wanted you to look at me.”

He looked like he was about to pass out. His heart was pounding in his ears, the urge to kiss you becoming almost irresistible. He knew this wasn't some act of kindness, something that was happening simply because you were a good person. It was something different, and he wasn't sure of what to do with that knowledge. He attempted to speak, but what came out was a mix of a scream and a sigh.

"W-what?"

“You heard me. Now, dry up, I have a surprise for you.” A shy smile makes its way to your face, and you rummage your bag again looking for the final thing you’d use today.

"Yes, ma'am." The former first mate's eyes widened as he realized what he’d just said. He made it too easy. "Right. Of course." Izzy then got out of the bath, taking the towel from your hand and drying himself up. He wasn't sure about anything anymore, but at the same time, he didn't mind this at all. As a matter of fact, he kinda liked it. It felt good to be desired like this. 

“Tell me when you’re ready” You tell him, holding the softest fabric you’d ever seen in your hands. Also stolen from Stede. 

He took a moment to finish up, holding the towel around his waist before calling out to you.

“Okay. I’m ready.” He says, readying himself for your gaze on him. Instead, you hold out your hand to him, a silky white nightgown coming into his view. He stares for a second, completely silent, and you let out a laugh at his reaction. His stomach curls at the sound, wishing nothing more than to hear it again.

“I know it wouldn’t be your first choice, but I found it a while ago and I thought you might need something nice. Soft. You deserve it, Izzy.” As your laugh died down, your voice became softer, as if trying to assure him that he was still safe, and still himself. “Plus, I only wore it a couple of times.”

He remained quiet for another moment before practically ripping it off your hand and mumbling profanities at you and Bonnet. You heard the towel hit the ground, and then the ruffling of fabric. 

With shaky hands, he put it on, the fabric feeling comfortable and cool against his skin. He took a look at the mirror on the opposite side of the room, and beamed at how pretty he looked, hair down and shiny clothes on. He felt warm all over, buzzing with life and excitement.

“You can turn around now.” His voice quavering but soft. As you turned around, you saw that his expression was soft too.

He looked like an angel, like a lost prince finally back home, like someone who finally got exactly what they needed to be happy. 

“Oh, Izzy.” You hold his right hand to give him balance as you stare, his cheeks a light red color now, even in the dim light. His smile is hesitant, but bright all the same. It takes all your strength to not kiss him right then and there. “You look perfect.”

You supported him as you made your way to his bed, and he seemed grateful as you did so. His eyes were expectant and hopeful, but you pushed your own excitement down to focus on him. You tucked him in, making sure he was comfortable, and sat beside him, intertwining your fingers together. Before you could say anything, he broke the silence.

“You can kiss me, if you want. Or, I don’t know. I don’t mind.” His fingers trace mindless shapes on the back of your hand, and you shiver at it. Still, your heart aches for him and his reaction. You pull his chin up with your fingers, making him look at you.

“Not tonight, love.” His pupils seem to widen at the nickname, and his lips part slightly. “And don’t get me wrong, I really want to. But not tonight. Not now. I’ll earn your affection Izzy, and I’ll do so gladly. And even if you don’t want me like that, I’ll still take care of you.” You caress his cheek then, his beard coarse against your fingertips. You smile at him, moving closer once again and kissing his forehead, your touch so light he could confuse it for a butterfly's.

“I’ll see you tomorrow. If you need anything, I’ll be in the cabin right beside this one. Just knock and I’ll come right away. Goodnight, Izzy.” You kiss his forehead again, taking in his puzzled expression, and you figure out you’ll have time to explain it to him some other day.

You leave the room, but before you close the door, you take a look at him. He stays still for a moment, his hands crossed on his stomach, his face deep in thought. Then, he smiles a little, contained and shy at himself and turns around, his back to you. You close the door, trying not to make noise, and make your way to your own cabin, your heart fluttering with what you could only assume was love.

[sehtoast]

Tender Threads CH2 ( Homelander x OC )

chapter two: signed and sealed

chapter directory | slow burn, hurt/comfort, fluff, spidersona as original character, original trans male character, smut, sublander

summary: benjamin knows full well he's out there, watching and waiting, even doing a little breaking and entering. homelander is simply biding his time until he gets his way.

Benjamin’s personal life had always been a simple one.  With little to no time to truly be, there wasn’t much drama to get mixed up in– well, there used to be.  Back when he tried to have the best of both worlds, there was… a lot.  Failed relationships, friends walking out on him, family shunning him for his absences, unreliability, and perceived short temper that was truly just pure exhaustion.  It was one hell of a cocktail, but sometimes the loneliness was worse.  It was hard to see the few people who still talked to him, and harder still to make time to call his folks, but somehow those relationships survived.

Worse yet was his track record with jobs.  Delivery boy was optimal given his particular skill set, but showing up on time with every little disturbance was beyond difficult.  Table waiting jobs were even worse, and he’d lost a fair few.  These days he supplements income with side photography while primarily working an IT job at a small tech firm that he probably wouldn’t have gotten without a friend putting in a good word.

Moving to New York with his best friend from college was a decision he wouldn’t undo, but it wasn’t without its strife.  If not for his friend, good ol’ Jason Ortega, Ben would’ve fallen through the cracks so many times. Eventually they split from their cozy roommate situation after Jase got a girlfriend, but there were no hard feelings.  In fact, he was the only person in the world who knew about Ben’s little secret.

The two worlds of Benjamin's life were starting to collide bit by bit.

“You met Homelander!" 

“Shh! Not so loud!”  Ben stresses, eyes wide.  They’re on their first coinciding lunch break in a while, and they'd decided to pop a few blocks down to a sub shop for their first hangout in damn near three weeks.  “Yeah, just–”

“And you worked with him, right?” Jason asks, leaning forward eagerly, food all but totally forgotten.  “That’s what all the articles are saying.”

“No, I–” Benjamin releases a heavy sigh.  He knows about those.  It’d been two weeks since Homelander propositioned him, and… well. 

It had been an interesting two weeks.

“It wasn’t like that.”  Ben says, mind wandering back…

Bodega Burglary Botched!  Spidey and Homelander Team Up, had been Vought News Network’s big headline of the day the morning after the confrontation in the alley.  Ben pretty much choked on his bowl of Maeve-O’s when the segment ran on his TV.  

“Boy, I’ll tell ya,” Homelander said, smiling perfectly for the camera.  “That Spider-Man is exactly what we need in The Seven.  After last night, I really do see why people say he looks out for the little guy.”

Ben must have looked quite the sight standing there in his boxers, spoon dangling from his mouth. Did he have bedhead or was his hair just showing how absolutely fucking insane he felt in the moment? 

“I can’t think of anyone better to fill Translucent’s shoes.  So, Spidey, if you’re seeing this: you’ve got my vote buddy!”

“You mother fucker…” Ben murmured.  This was a power play unlike anything he could’ve imagined.  This wasn’t just for PR– though it definitely was.  This was a way to turn the public onto the idea.  To make sure the wall crawler would be reminded of the offer everywhere he went.  

Which is precisely what happened.  And now it was happening in his personal life, which was even worse.  Not that Jase knew the fine details of what had happened, but…

“Man, Vought’s been hounding me for a while now.”  He explains.  “And now they sent the big dog.” 

Ben takes a moment, voice hushed, to tell Jason about all that had happened.  About how intimidating the whole thing was, how Homelander practically looked right through him, how he fucking name-dropped him despite every length the bug has gone to keep his identity a secret.

“You wanna know what else?”  Ben asks, glancing from side to side.  “I think he’s fucking stalking me.”

“Dude…” 

“Yeah, so get this…”

He spares no details.

It started off small.  Simple fly-by’s, flickers of red, white, and blue in the sky zipping by at the most random of times.  At first, it seemed like something weird in his peripherals, but then Benjamin learned to look up.  He made eye contact three days after first noticing his stalker while walking into work, and he’s not sure if that made Homelander more bold but he definitely did get worse.

Benjamin could’ve coped with the stalking. In fact, he was almost getting used to it, but then he went for the newly bought jug of milk in the fridge and found the seal cracked and roughly a quarter of the contents missing.

The lack of cup in the sink had him pouring the contents down the drain because that bastard clearly drank from the jug.  After that, subtlety went clear out the fucking door.

Ben’s apartment isn’t the neatest thing on planet Earth, but he prides himself on keeping up with his laundry.  His closet was organized, shoes kicked into a slobbishly-neat pile in said closet, and his underwear drawer was folded to perfection.

So why in the world were his boxer briefs unrolled from their tight, military-esque fold?  Why is his acoustic guitar on the stand where the electric normally sits?  

And why the fuck is the bed he made that morning now unmade and very obviously laid in?

Homelander had crossed a line.  This wasn't just some light stalking and intimidation, this was a Goldy Locks level violation of his privacy and space, and Ben didn’t know if it was going to end up so bad someday that he'd wake up to the fucker standing in the corner like some patriotic version of the hat man.

“And it’s still happening,” he tells Jason.  His best friend stares at him wide eyed with his mouth parted in disbelief. 

“Man, I hope you changed your toothbrush…”  He says.

“Fuck… No, but I will later, I–”  

A ringing from Jason’s phone breaks their banter and signals the end of their break.  Ben takes the opportunity to grab his own phone and type a message to him.  Eyes up when we leave.  Don’t react to this.

They pay and leave.  Sure as the sun rises in the morning, on the edge of the roof across the street stands Homelander, who smirks down at them, clearly having used that super hearing of his to listen in.

“Woah…” Jase utters.

Ben simply keeps his eyes up, watching closely as the star spangled supe gives an informal salute and takes off.

“Dude…” Jason says.  “That’s fucked.”

Yeah, Ben thinks to himself. I’m fucked.

By the end of the third week, Ben’s absolutely had it.  He can feel Homelander’s eyes piercing through the walls of his apartment building.  In fact, Benjamin knows right where he’s sitting.  He’d been laying in bed relaxing before his usual run through the city.

He hates to admit it, but… he’s given some thought to the offer.  Moral objections aside, he could make a real difference at Vought.  Plus, there’s the opportunity to try to change it from the inside out.  Maybe leak some information here or there…

Nothing he’s vocalized, of course.  He’d never risk Homelander hearing something and come barreling through the wall to laser him in two for even considering it.

But enough was enough.  These little interferences in his life weren’t going to stop, it seemed, unless he did something about it.  Ben swings his legs off the side of the bed and stares down at where his suit lays in a pile on the floor.  There was no sense in even putting the fucking mask on.  Homelander can see through it anyway.  He knows who he is, where he lives…  The jig is up as far as secrecy with Homelander goes, if there was even any to begin with.

Ben walks to the window and peers out.  Just as he predicted, Homelander is stood on the building across the street, looking almost amused at the bug’s knowledge of his location.

“Get over here,” Ben says.  He knows Homelander can hear it.  “For once, you’re being invited inside.”  With that, he opens the window.

What the fuck am I doing, Ben thinks to himself.  Fuck, I should’ve gone out, not let him in.  Fuck, fuck fuck…

It’s a curious thing to watch Homelander float through the window perfectly horizontal.  It never occurred to Ben that flying supes could do that so easily…

“Benjamin,” Homelander greets.  “Nice of you to finally extend the offer.”

The bug plops down on the edge of his bed, gesturing to his desk chair for Homelander to sit.  It’s almost comedic to watch him swish his cape out of the way to do so.

“Y’know, I can cope with you stalking me,” Ben says, getting right to the point.  “But rifling through my drawers is overdoing it.”

Homelander smiles, and it’s almost scary to see him so close in such an intimate environment.  Outside, he’s practically god.  In here he’s… scary in a different way.  Especially when Ben notices just how sharp his canines are.

“Couldn’t help it, Benny.  Besides, you’ve got some interesting things.”  Homelander turns in the chair just slightly to rap his gloved knuckles against the top drawer of Ben’s nightstand.  “Especially in here, you dirty boy.”

Ben’s cheeks flare red immediately.  Fuck, he hadn’t even considered–

“You are interesting, I’ll tell ya.” Homelander continues.  “You’re so fucking ordinary, and yet you’re about to be in The Seven.  Nothin’ to you besides that do-good moral compass of yours and some spandex.”

“What do you mean, ‘about to,’” Ben asks incredulously.  “I haven’t agreed to anything.”

Homelander gives him a smile so sinister that it practically takes a bite out of his resolve.  “Oh, I know.  But you’re going to once we’re done here, trust me.”

Ben cocks a brow.  “... explain.”

“Not yet.” 

Homelander leans to the side and snags one of those guitars he was clearly very familiar with.  “You’re a peculiar little thing, you know that?”  He says, finger plucking awkwardly at a nylon string that damn near snaps under his strength.  It makes Ben cringe a little.  “You’re so full of anxiety I can practically smell it on you, but you still have the balls to tell me no.  You’re pretty much a shut in as...” Homelander gestures vaguely to Ben to describe his secret identity.  “But then you’re such a social butterfly.  Thought you might’ve just had a thing for being stared at in spandex, but you’re quite the little ray of sunshine in the leotard.”

“I–”

Homelander holds up a finger.

“And you’re so fucking sad, little Benjamin.”  

What..? 

“You’re lonely.  Just that one buddy of yours and that strained relationship with good ol’ mom and dad… plus that cousin or whatever the boy is.”  Homelander plucks the lowest string, a deep open note reverberating through the body of the instrument.  “But you’re so sad, crying at night like you do.”

But I haven’t– 

“I can tell what you’re thinking… You haven’t had a bad night in a few weeks.”  Homelander says nonchalantly.  “What, you think I wasn’t scoping you out before that night in the alley?  Please.  I know you down to the fucking lube you use at this rate.”

“What the f–”

“Astroglide, by the way.”  He says, wiggling his brows.  “You want that spider-high you get when you’re swinging around to be permanent?  Quit your little desk job, stop being a pussy, and join my team.  Go have time to live your personal life– I don’t fucking care– just do the right thing.”

Ben’s gaze falls and he picks at his fingers.  Fucker found the sore spot and was using it to his full advantage.

“Don’t look so sad, Benny boy.  I’m offering you the relief you’ve been looking for, aren’t I?”  Homelander smiles almost genuinely.  “So exhausted all the time, too.  When was the last time you got eight hours, huh?  I’ve seen the way that little tingle in your head wakes you up all the time.  Plus all those late nights… you must be so burnt out.”

“Shut up…” Ben tries, but it comes out more sad than he means for it to.  He hates how fucking right Homelander is.

“Friends, family, rest… No more rent struggles…” Homelander sets the instrument down and turns toward Ben.  “You know what else?”  He asks, voice almost sweet.  When Ben looks at him, he grins.  “Ma and Pa will thank you when I don’t drop an oil tanker on them from orbit.”

Ben’s blood runs cold.

“Yeah, I flew by a day ago.  Nice little suburban house in Annville, right?  Pops has a nice red truck.”

No, no, no– fuck– 

“Be a shame if they had to suffer because of you, wouldn’t it?”

Benjamin sits stock still, his only movements being shakes of fear and anger.  How fucking dare he?  How dare he hold something so–

“Like I said, you will be joining The Seven.  And, if you do, no harm will come to mom and pop– I promise.” 

He knows he has no choice now.

“So, little Benjamin,” Homelander says, rising from the chair.  “What’ll it be?”

As if he has any choice.

“Fine…”

“Oh,” Homelander cocks a brow.  “What was that?  I think I need you to be a little louder.”

“Fine,” Ben says, more conviction in his voice this time.  

“Say it.  The whole thing.” Homelander demands, smile growing even wider.  “You’re gonna join The Seven.”

“I’m…” Ben sighs.  “I’m going to join The Seven.”

“Attaboy!” Homelander chirps, clapping his gloved hands together.  “Alright, buddy, get some shoes on and let's get you to the tower for your big signing day!  Did I mention you get a sign-on bonus?  Pretty killer, right?”

Dejectedly, Ben stands from the bed and slips his shoes on.

He supposes he’ll be signing his contract in his pajamas.

[sukunasweetheart]

Where the Petals Cascade - Chapter One

Synopsis & Masterlist

Tags; slowburn, eventual smut, eventual romance, contract marriage, lots of sexual tension, manipulative & womaniser sukuna, potential angst, mentions of alcohol and drinking, mentions of gambling, lots of flirting, fake relationship trope.

Word count; 12k

01. Chapter One.

Malevolent Casino - a brand easily recognised by the public. The rising popularity of this casino company is no secret to the world. And the way they’re topping the casino industry only adds to the wealth held by the man that possesses this establishment that’s tainted with the misery of others. Gambling– everyone loves to shun the topic of it out in the open, but when times are tough and a good rush of adrenaline is needed, guess where people drift towards?

Sukuna put out the light on his cigar as he gazed upon his company’s revenue from last year, printed out on the document he held up in his hand. The incredibly significant numbers put a smile to his face. Earning money off of the pathetic men and women that have crippling addictions - all of them being regulars at his facilities - there is no better source of income for a person like Sukuna than this.

But still…he felt as though he was always missing something.

Though the amount of money being raked in was quite remarkable, there was a lack of exponential growth seen in the company’s annual revenue in the past few years. In some, there had even been a slightly concerning and noticeable decrease.

It had taken Sukuna a little bit of pondering to realise what it was that his company lacked - a good public image. Perhaps it was due to how his business emerged from the darker part of society; a flawless reputation had been something that was the least of Sukuna’s concerns back when he’d began making his way to the top.

He definitely wasn’t about to let his business flicker out like a dying flame in a decade or so. A plan was to be devised.

…And thus, this finalised plan of his brings him to this small, yet refined bar in a more remote and quiet part of the city. 

-

Sitting at the bar counter alone, you bask yourself in the slow music that echoes around, taking the final sip from your almost-empty glass. There are very few customers around in your vicinity, and perhaps only a little bit of muted chattering can be heard in the distance from where you remain.

Just as you’re about to ask the bartender for another, he brings you a drink that you have no memory of ordering.

“The gentleman over there requested this for you,” he voices, noticing your expression of inquiry. You turn to see a man wearing an expensive looking crimson suit, giving you a small smile from across the room. Ominous looking tattoos adorn his face, but they compliment his pink, gelled up hair quite well. You politely smile back at him, and turn to the front again.

Judging from its colour and scent, you can guess what kind of drink it is. You can’t really say that it’s your favourite.

A few minutes after, footsteps resound from behind - and a deep, velvety voice calls out to you.

You look up and meet the man’s eyes.

“Not a fan of whiskey?” he asks, smoothly taking the empty seat beside you.

“Unfortunately not,” you respond, swirling the glass cup’s contents around mindlessly with your hand.

“Apologies for that. What kind of drink do you prefer?”

“...A dry martini would be nice,” you tell him, reflecting his flawless falsified smile.

The pink haired man gives a little nod to the bartender, and he is soon on his way to mix up another drink for you.

“And I’ll help myself with this one, in your stead.”

He reaches out for the glass in your hand, and as he closes the distance between his and your body, the scent of his cologne seems to disperse into the air around you. You watch his fingertips graze your hand ever so slightly, while he takes the whiskey away.

“Would you believe me if I said I’d fallen in love at first sight?” he responds with a humorous undertone.

“You’re quite the fine gentleman. What business would you have with a lady like me tonight?”

Sukuna lets out a boyish chuckle - the only genuine reaction you’ll be getting out of him today.

It was your turn to let out a small laugh.

He faces you with a smirk, and you notice the way he taps his finger against the surface of the counter.

“Certainly not. You don’t seem like the type,” you tell him.

“Oh? And why is that?” He takes a sip from the glass of whiskey.

“You don’t strike me as a very sentimental man.”

“I wouldn’t say that you’re entirely incorrect. But I’m not as emotionless as you may think.”

You meet his eyes once again. It’s incredibly difficult to tell when this man is lying.

“Is that so,” you say, giving him a look of intrigue.

Moments later, your martini finally arrives, which you’re quite happy to see.

“I don’t believe so. The Golden Rose Enterprise has been a vastly successful business, ever since you took over.”

“Malevolent Casino, is it? The name of your company,” you ask as you take the drink into your hand.

“An honour that you know of it. Especially from someone of your calibre,” Sukuna says, unsurprised that you’d caught onto him.

“You flatter me.”

You force out a courteous smile.

“I’ll assume that we’re skipping over the self introductions,” he continues speaking.

“Feel free to contact me when you’re ready. I’ll be happy to take you out for dinner.”

“It’s true that I approached you with an offer in mind that you may find interesting,” Sukuna informs, eyeing your reactions carefully.

“Apologies, but I don’t usually tend to talk about business when I’m around alcohol.”

“That’s fine by me,” he says, reaching into the inner pocket of his suit. What he pulls out is a business card.

He then finishes up the remaining whiskey in his glass in one go and stands up to pay for the both of you. Before he excuses himself however, he comes over to you one last time.

“Business is business, but…”

Sukuna leans down closer to you, his face being inches away from yours.

“I’m not fuckin’ around when I say that I’m interested in you too. I don’t just buy drinks for anybody,” he tells you in a low voice. The sudden tonal shift from being overly formal to the crude language is indeed something you weren’t expecting. An unexplainable shock runs down your spine. Seeing your widened eyes grant him satisfaction, and he smirks as he gazes down at you while still hovering close to your face for a few more seconds.

He moves back away, and puts his hands into his pockets.

“It would be nice to get to know you better. I’ll be looking forward to seeing you again,” Sukuna tells you, as he begins to walk away.

“Have a good evening.”

You’re left alone with the drink that he’s bought for you, and the black business card that still holds the scent of his cologne. You chuckle cynically at yourself, looking at the number that's printed on it.

The man sure knows how to linger in someone’s thoughts.

Meanwhile, outside of the bar, Sukuna hums as he walks over to his car. Easy. A bit too easy.

He’s casted out the bait - now all he shall do is wait for you to bite onto it.

-

A little over a week has passed since then - and frustratingly enough, he has heard nothing from you as of yet. He spins the pen in his hand at his desk, while he rests his chin against his other palm lazily. He’s certain that he had indeed grabbed your attention that night. What could be the reason for this radio silence? Are you shy? Overly cautious? Too busy?

That last possible reason ticks him off a bit. You’re not the only one running a successful business here. You think he’s not busy?

His thoughts are interrupted when a knock comes at his door.

“Come in,” he states firmly, not moving from his current position. Uraume, his secretary, enters the room shortly after. They walk up closer to where his desk is, and stops to stand a few metres away.

“What is it?” he asks them, continuing to fiddle with that pen in his hand.

“I’ve received a report saying there’s been a bit of a dispute between an employee and a regular customer, sir. The customer is giving threats to sue the company, and the employee sustained an injury from an object that was thrown at him. I thought it’d be best if you knew about it.”

“Is he a VIP customer?” Sukuna asks immediately.

“No, sir.”

“Then he’s nothing to worry about. If he takes it to court like an idiot, send one of our lawyers to the case. He’s injured one of the staff - he’s unlikely to win.”

“Yes sir.”

He stops fidgeting with the pen.

“How’d they end up dealing with him?”

“He was escorted outside by the security guards - by force.”

“By force, huh…”

That’s right…

If you won’t look his way, he can just force you to.

“Uraume. You wouldn’t mind if I went on a little break, would you?”

-

This is your favourite part of the day.

Sitting down at your large desk, signing off a few papers quietly whilst the steam rises from the piping hot cup of tea that rests close to you. Right after finalising these few documents, you’ll get to sip on it and take a little break from your work…Or so you thought. Three sharp knocks resound from the door.

“Yes? Please come in,” you call out.

The person that emerges from the entrance is Nanami, your most competent secretary.

“It seems there’s a significant guest visiting the hotel today, ma’am. The manager requests your presence in greeting this person,” he informs you.

“Significant guest? I don’t recall there being any VIP bookings today,” you respond, standing up from your seat and walking over towards him.

“He booked in moments prior, and also applied for the VIP membership today. Paid on the spot.”

“...Impressive,” you relent, already having an educated guess on who this person may be.

The two of you make your way down to the hotel lobby, where you’re faced with a few slightly panic-stricken employees of yours, all of them making way for you to approach this new “significant guest” of yours.

Sukuna smiles triumphantly as you make your appearance, being blatant about his pride in his presence that requires a personal greeting from the CEO herself.

“Good afternoon, sir. To what do I owe this pleasure?” you say, standing before him.

“There’s no need to be so formal. I just thought it’d be nice to spend my day off somewhere… extravagant.”

He scans his surroundings, pretending to be interested in the interior decoration and furnishing of the lobby.

“I see. Then allow me to accompany you to your VIP suite,” you tell him with a polite smile. Nanami receives the key for Sukuna’s room while you dismiss the employees that are gathered around the front desk - getting them on their way to greet the other guests coming in.

“Nanami - you can head back up and finish your paperwork for the day,” you instruct the man as you take the key from his hand, “I can guide him by myself.”

“Yes ma’am.” He makes a short bow and excuses himself first.

You turn to look at Sukuna, who seems to be pleased with your decision to send everybody else away.

“Well then. Shall we be on our way?”

“Certainly.”

He follows you close behind all the way to a private elevator that is separate from the ones taken by regular guests.

The elevator arrives with a ding, and both of you step inside of it once the doors slide open.

“From my understanding…you’re not here simply for a nice hotel experience, are you?” you ask Sukuna, who is watching the floor numbers on the monitor go down as the two of you wait for its arrival.

“Such keen observation, as usual. You are correct.”

Bullshit, Sukuna thinks.

“I assume then, it’s got something to do with my lack of response to your proposal that other day.”

“So you’re aware. I thought you’d forgotten all about me, with the way I was left waiting.”

“I do apologise. The week has been rather busy for me, but I promise to come by soon enough.”

“Very well,” he replies, turning to you with a pretentious smile.

“In the meantime, it would be nice if I could show you around - especially since you came all the way here,” you suggest to him. “Please let me treat you to some lunch.”

“I look forward to it.”

Upon entering the suite, you make a quick tour of the room for him, ignoring the couple of underhanded compliments he gave every now and then regarding the interior design. A very particular person, he is. Though a large majority of it was done out of spite; he was, truthfully, quite impressed by the quality. There was no luggage that he’d brought with him today, considering how he was only spending one night here, so the room tour ended pretty quickly and you were soon bringing him along to the restaurant, down the building.

As the name of your company suggests - the colour gold seems to linger around at every turn they take, being draped over a lot of the furnishing and architecture. He can’t shake off the feeling that it might be a little excessive. After passing through the hallways, the two of you finally get to the hotel’s dining room. A waiter comes around and formally introduces themselves, before handing over two menu lists after leading you to an appropriate table for two.

“What would you like to eat? We have quite a broad list of options that you can choose from.”

He skims over the various dishes listed on the laminated sheet before making a quick decision on the Filet Mignon, with tomato soup and a bread roll as the appetiser. You decide to have the same thing.

“You seem pretty excited,” you comment, gazing over at him with an amused look on your face.

“Of course. Eating is one of the greatest pleasures of life,” he states with confidence, eyeing the perfectly polished cutlery on the table, “don’t you agree?”

“Undoubtedly. Which is why we only hire the best chefs for our hotel dining.”

“I’m not too difficult to satisfy when it comes to food, so you don’t need to get too nervous,” he tells you. This evokes a genuine chuckle out of you. He really likes eating – is a mental note that you make in your head quietly.

Sukuna eats in a very satisfying way-- he eats tidily, but is not shy to clean everything off the plate. You can’t help but appreciate his table manners. You pour a glass of the tropical fruit juice for him. When questioned ‘Why not wine instead?’ - he’d replied with ‘It’s too bright outside for alcohol,’ which came off as a surprise to you.

What he notices from you, is the way you seem to be closely analysing him. For what purpose? A few ideas do come to mind. But he can tell you’re not doing it with malicious intent. He accepts the juice that you offer him.

“Do you have a lover, Mr. Ryomen?” you ask him, out of the blue. It even takes him aback, a little bit.

“...Would it please you if I said no?” Sukuna shoots back, having his interest piqued from your sudden query.

“It most certainly would,” you say with a small smile. He can’t really read into what you’re trying to do here.

Outwardly, there is little change in his demeanour. Continuing to cut up his meal, he watches as the blood oozes out from the pink and tender meat inside– something that he most appreciates, when it comes to having his steak rare.

“Would it be alright for me to visit you at your room tonight?” you say.

Your abrupt assertiveness is nothing less than…puzzling. But it wouldn’t really hurt to play along with you for now.

“A rather…sudden initiative, on your part. Can I ask why?”

“There’s no need to read too deep into it. I’ve been meticulously planning something for a while now,” you put your cutlery down onto the table, “and I think you might find it appealing.”

It’s not often that Sukuna gets curious about something, or someone.

“I’m happy to listen to your proposal as well, of course. I’m confident it will fit well into mine.”

Sukuna takes his last bite of the steak and also puts his knife and fork down.

“Quite a bold claim to make, considering how I haven’t told you what I want yet…” he wipes his lips down with a serviette and neatly folds it up. “...But sure. I’m eager to hear what you have in mind.”

He just hopes it won’t be a waste of his time.

The two of you continue to make aimless small talk as dessert comes around, before you have to eventually excuse yourself to continue your office duties.

“I hope you enjoy the rest of your day, Mr. Ryomen. I’ll come by at around 8pm, tonight,” you tell him, standing up from your seat and making a quick glance at your wristwatch.

“Right. I’ll see you then,” he replies, and proceeds to watch as you walk off, each elegant step followed by another.

Sukuna knows - it won’t be easy work manipulating you, from the looks of it. He plans to start off small; offer to work in collaboration with you, only to slowly start making his way further into your prized possession– Golden Rose Enterprise– like a poison that spreads through the veins. Whether it’s through seizing your love and affection, or grasping tightly onto a weakness of yours - he’ll let you decide on that.

For now, all he needs to do is find a way to kill the time before 8pm arrives. Perhaps he should call for an in-room massage later?

-

By the time you reach your office once again, your pitiful cup of tea has gone terribly cold. You get someone to dispose of it for you.

Ryomen Sukuna… the man seems to be plotting something. You knew from the very moment he reached out, that he was up to no good. Him and his company are both quite infamous - just as your hotels are known for their flawless reputation and transparency, Sukuna’s business is known for their questionable public image. Though there hasn’t been any real trouble that’s arisen as of yet, the rumours that they’re roped into aren’t pleasant at all.

And not to mention the CEO himself…

Eccentric, temperamental, yet also intelligent and charismatic; this is what your research on him tells you so far. A long history of scandals involving various female celebrities, the man has lived through quite a dramatic love life if what the articles say are true.

But, well, you’re not that particularly worried. You finish signing off the remaining papers at your desk.

You’ll put him on a leash, before he puts one onto you. You print off a copy of your well put together, finalised contract, and slide it into an A4 envelope, sealing it shut. Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.

At ten minutes to eight, you’re ready to head into his room, where you shall reveal your cards to him.

Meanwhile- Sukuna, in his VIP suite- has just finished up his shower and makes an effort to dry his hair with a towel taken from the hanger. He then hums as he feels up the material on the pitch black bathrobe he finds on the sink counter, neatly folded and ready for use. After donning the robe, he emerges from the bathroom at good timing as he hears someone at the door.

It hardly seems surprising to you, when he opens up shamelessly wearing the hotel’s bathrobe that presents his collar bones in a lascivious way, still looking a little moist from his shower. You ignore all of that, and look up at him, who smirks down at you, in all his arrogance.

“Good to see you. Come on in,” he tells you with nonchalance, stepping off to the side to make way for you.

“It’s good to see you making yourself comfortable. How do you like this room?” you ask, sitting down on one of the sofa seats at the coffee table.

The two of you exchange polite smiles. He notices the envelope in your hands.

“Nothing less than what I’d expected, from a five star hotel,” Sukuna says as he takes the seat on the other side of the table.

“That’s great news.”

“Well then. I’ll get straight to the point,” you begin.

“Why don’t we get married, Sukuna?”

You call him by his name, for the first time. And additionally, you see his expression of surprise for the first time as well.

“...What?”

You give him a look that makes it obvious that you were expecting this kind of response.

Sukuna seems to still be processing the idea, hanging his head as he leans back against the sofa seat.

“...I understand that reaction. But I’m not saying this as a joke,” you tell him, holding back a chuckle from seeing his dumbfounded response.

“Have you ever heard of what a marriage of convenience is?” you ask.

“And? On what grounds are you asking someone you met a week ago to marry you? Even if it is out of convenience,” he questions, his real personality beginning to show itself to you.

“You’re like the last puzzle piece for my final picture. There’s a lot that I’d like to gain from you and I’m sure there’s a lot you want from me – isn’t that why you approached me at the bar?”

Sukuna regains his composure and narrows his eyes at you.

“Putting aside your needs for now…how can you be so sure about my demands? Enlighten me.”

“I did have a couple of guesses on what they could’ve been. A company that’s already at the peak of the casino industry. What exactly could you be missing?” you speak confidently.

“And my answer ended up being…reputation. Your numbers are consistent, but they’re not accumulating as much as you’d like them to, are they? Perhaps due to a lack of new members at your casinos. The ones that are already hooked may continue to spend money, but a flawed public image is preventing you from gaining new customers. Even a small shortcoming like that is enough to cause problems in the future.”

Sukuna has a fascinated grin that he covers with the palm of his hand. You’re… interesting.

“Which is presumably why you’d want to work with a company that is known for having a perfect reputation. I’m sure partnering up with me would improve it, albeit a little, just by association.”

“You have me backed into a corner,” Sukuna lies, running a hand through his hair at a languid pace.

“But that still doesn’t explain why we should have to get married does it?” he voices carefully.

"We recently finished remodelling our hotel wedding venues. I want to promote it in a more flamboyant manner. What better way than to get married myself?" 

An unlikely couple such as yourself and Sukuna would gain a lot of attention; especially from how he’s already well known by the public. You’ll create the grand facade that he’d ‘changed for the better’.

"You’re able to go as far as marriage for the sake of your business?" Sukuna asks with a raised eyebrow.

You look at him straight in the eyes, mouth set in a straight line, and arms crossed.

"Yes, I am."

Witnessing your sincere determination, Sukuna goes from slightly doubting your plans, to acknowledging that you have ambition worth recognising. You’re not very sane at all.

“Alright. Let’s say that’s fair enough. What else would you want from me beyond that?”

A glint shows up in your eyes, as if you’d been waiting for this question this whole time.

“...As the CEO of a casino company, you’d have a long list of top secret VIP customers.”

Sukuna immediately understands where this is heading towards.

“That I do.”

“Our hotels have been doing perfectly fine with our usual guests, but there’s been a bit of a decline with attaining new VIP members recently. My main goal is to snatch up a few from your list using, hopefully, a bit of your influence.”

He crosses his arms and falls silent for a few moments.

“Objectively speaking, having our companies collaborate would create a rift in Golden Rose’s image. But that’s something I’m willing to sacrifice if everything goes smoothly.”

“Is reputation the only benefit I’m getting from this marriage?”

“Why, of course not. Since it’s not new for hotels to have casinos near, or even inside them, I thought it’d be nice if we made a collaboration. As you would know - next to my main hotel, I own another building. We can renovate, and insert new slot machines as you see fit. Funded entirely by me.”

A spark of intrigue gleams over his eyes. Tempting offer indeed.

“I’ve written up a contract as reasonable as I could make it, outlining the details of our marriage, including a few rules and regulations, and what to do if we end up wanting to divorce, for whatever reason,” you say as you slide over the envelope towards him on the coffee table.

So she meant it when she said she was preoccupied this week… Sukuna thinks to himself. Writing up a contract takes quite a lot of energy, after all.

"I'll look forward to hearing back from you again."

"...Give me some time. I'll consider it," he finally tells you, leaning back and crossing his legs after much contemplation.

"Wonderful." You stand up from your seat and look down at him with a smile.

When you're a few steps to getting to the door, Sukuna speaks up again from behind you.

"Aw, leaving so soon? I wouldn't mind if you stayed the night here with me," he teases - with a smirk that you can hear in his voice. 

"...Thank you for the offer, but I'll have to decline. Have a good night."

He hears you leave, with the sound of the door opening and closing.

“Tch. What a prude way of saying no.”

Aren’t you a little too cold for someone who aims to be his lawful wife?

No matter - he’ll find one way or another to get under that awfully polite attitude of yours.

-

The contract is actually quite reasonable and fair for both parties, and Sukuna hates to admit so. You worked on this alone? Or maybe you had that stuck up of a secretary helping you behind the scenes.

Either way, upon having his own lawyer review it for him after carefully reading through it himself, he has decided that he will take you up on this offer - and participate in this marriage of convenience.

It makes things easier for him, after all. This will skip him a lot of steps, and you’ll be closer to his reach, making it simpler to play around with you as he pleases. Not to mention; the contract states that if the wedding doesn’t happen, all negotiations are off the table. Clever of you to make it an ‘all in or nothing’ type of agreement.

Today’s the day where he’d already arranged another meeting with you at one of his private restaurants, where he anticipates seeing your pretty face again, since it’s been a little over a week.

Uraume opens the car door for him, and he steps outside without a hitch.

He’s a little elated to find you already sitting inside, gazing out the window as you’re at the fancily decorated table. You’re dressed in a quite eloquent outfit, perfect for a day like this, where the petals are carried away from cherry blossom trees, even by the gentlest of breezes.

“How impolite of me to keep a lady waiting,” Sukuna says as he approaches you, “apologies for the late arrival.”

“Not at all. It’s a habit of mine to show up at least ten minutes before any appointment. You’re actually on time,” you tell him, looking at the watch on your wrist.

“...Quite the courteous habit to have.”

Sukuna’s private restaurant specialises in Japanese cuisine, which explained the various platters of sushi and sashimi that were soon getting placed onto the table, shortly after his arrival. He lets you take the first mouthful, and appears to be awaiting your opinion on the taste.

“This…is really good. I can tell the fish is fresh, and there’s a perfect amount of vinegar in the rice,” you comment, your chopsticks going for another one.

“I’m glad it’s to your taste. Nothing but the best for my fiancé.”

The term he uses catches you a little off guard, but you manage to laugh it off. Sukuna is very satisfied by the millisecond of a pause in your reaction. Perhaps you should’ve added the rule of no unnecessary flirting with the other party into your contract?

After the hearty meal, the table is cleared, and the contract is taken out and placed upon it, resting between the two of you.

“We’ve both come here to sign this, am I correct?” you reconfirm, pulling out a pen of yours, ready to draw up your signature.

“Indeed. We’ve reviewed it multiple times back and forth between us, I doubt there’s anything more to worry about.”

You pass it on over to him, after signing it swiftly. He does the same.

The both of you are now officially bound together, by law.

There’s a beautiful shade of pink outside that grasps your attention, every now and then. You’d forgotten the current season was spring – and like in every other year, the cherry blossoms are always there to remind you. This is a nice restaurant indeed.

“I hope you have the time to enjoy some tea with me, Y/N,” Sukuna says as he puts his pen away. It feels nice to hear someone call you by your name like that.

“Fortunately, I do have a few minutes to spare.”

“Enjoying the outside view?” he asks - placing his focus on you, rather than the window.

“Yes, actually. This view is…very lovely.”

You say it in a soft spoken voice, and your eyes mellow out in a way he doesn’t expect when you look out the window once again. He takes a mental note to bring you here a second time, once the next spring season arrives.

This tea time is spent very delightfully (to your surprise), for maybe the next ten minutes before the both of you need to eventually leave due to your busy schedules. Once standing up, you offer your hand to the man before you, with a smile. He takes your hand, that is so dainty and soft compared to his, and shakes it.

“Your hair is the same colour as those petals,” you say without thinking.

“I do get that a lot. I’d argue that I’ll always look better than any of those trees, however.”

“That’s some impressive confidence you have,” you retort, with a chuckle.

As you’re walking out of the restaurant alongside him, you remember something you’d forgotten to mention to him.

“The wedding will be in a month’s time. We’ll see each other a couple of times before then,” you state, looking up at him in the eyes.

“Excellent. Feel free to contact me whenever.”

“I actually prefer your normal attitude, rather than the one you’re using around me all the time,” you tell him truthfully.

“You mean my flirtatious advances on you?”

“No, you already do that now. I mean when you use your crude language, and speak in shorter sentences.”

You nonchalantly walk out of the door that he’s still holding open for you.

“Oh? ...You’re into that shit? Very unexpected, coming from someone like you,” he retorts with a smirk as he holds the door open for you.

“Yes, that’s much better. I’m happy to see that my future husband is the obedient type.”

Obedient–

He catches you giving one last glance at him, before getting inside of your car, with a cheeky smile on your face. Sukuna is stunned in an amused way, having been called obedient for the first time in his life. It should be making him angry, but he’s grinning instead. The urge to get back at you rises within him like wildfire.

This whole marriage thing with you is bound to be one hell of a ride.

-

“How are the wedding preparations going?” he asks on the phone.

The question comes while you’re inspecting the various invitation designs before you. You pick one of them up and flip to the other side.

“Very smoothly. You won’t have to lift a finger, as we promised.”

“That’s good to hear. It’s a shame, really. Would’ve liked to help pick out a wedding dress for you,” he says humourously.

“Certainly not. I imagine you’d pick an atrocious dress,” you tell him, listening to him chuckle.

“Not possible. All wedding dresses look the same anyway,” Sukuna dismisses.

You furrow your brows a little at his ignorance. Of course he’s the type to say that. 

“I’ll have to disagree. But pushing that aside for now,” you say, putting down the sample invitation card, “have you prepared the list of guests you’d like to invite for the ceremony?”

“I have. I’ll get Uraume to send the list to you soon.”

“Thank you. Well then, I wish you a good afternoon.”

You end the call sharply. 

Mildly irritated as he sits at the back of his car, Sukuna removes his phone from his ear and looks down at the screen with a raised eyebrow. He wishes you wouldn’t cut calls so abruptly like that. What is wrong with you?

“Pretentious,” he mutters, shoving his phone back into his pocket. He looks out his window, expressionlessly.

Amongst the number of people Sukuna plans to invite to the wedding, his mother and father aren’t a part of the list. But, surprisingly so, it’s the same for you too. They’re excluding the whole ‘walking the bride down the aisle’ as a result. He doesn’t care enough to ask you what happened to them – it’s none of his business, after all. It’s just a little strange to think about how both the bride and the groom will have absent seats for parents. 

The car suddenly feels a little stuffy for him. He rolls the window down a little bit, letting the outside breeze swirl inside, carrying the scent of the city.

And as for you – after having completed a large portion of the work needed to be done for the wedding, you’re now happily sitting at home with a glass of wine in your hand. In maybe around two weeks’ time, you’ll be a legally married woman. It feels a little surreal to think about.

Looking over at the wedding invitation card that has his and your name printed over it, your mind brings up the image of your parents. Oh, how they would’ve never approved of a man like him. You can’t help but let out a small, dry laugh.

…It’s all for the sake of the business. You promised them to do well. 

And you shall execute it– flawlessly.

-

Little inklings of dating rumours have already dispersed amongst the employees at both Malevolent Casino and Golden Rose Enterprise, having grown all the way back from the moment when Sukuna applied for the expensive VIP membership all too suddenly. That, and alongside the frequent ins and outs both you and Sukuna have been doing at each others’ offices have raised the suspicions of many. Countless friends and acquaintances have reached out, asking if it’s actually true. And to each one of them, you replied with a ‘yes’.

This is a perfect chain of events leading up to the marriage announcement. For someone who has quite a bit of media attention on him already due to past affairs, he is indeed the ideal candidate for the promotion of the hotel’s wedding services, as he’s bound to draw the gaze of a wider audience.

It’s rather amusing how many of them warned you, and discouraged your ‘relationship’ with Sukuna.

“He’s not like that at all. He treats me very well,” you responded to them, the best you could. 

And then, you sent out the wedding invitations, not long after.

You become terribly busy in the final week before the ceremony. Giving instructions to employees during the setup process of the venue, arranging the rings, selecting the perfect dress and suit, establishing a script for the vows, and organising the food for the event. Not to mention, there needs to be professional photographers present to capture everything beautifully, so the photos can be uploaded to the hotel website.

For the honeymoon – you reckoned it’d be best to go somewhere overseas, even if for only a few days – in order to prevent speculations that the two of you may not actually be in love. When asked if there was a particular country he wanted to go to for the honeymoon, Sukuna replied with “I couldn’t care less where we go.”

So you took it upon yourself to select somewhere most convenient for you.

Ironically enough, you barely met the man during this final week, as you were too preoccupied with running around and making sure everything was perfect.

And now, here you are, dolled up in a stunning wedding gown, waiting for Sukuna to finish getting dressed up. You can hear the guests buzzing outside, anticipating the appearance of the bride and groom. 

A whistle resounds in front of you. Looking up, you see him in the polished suit that you had picked out for him. Alongside that, his appropriately slicked back hair makes him look like quite the handsome gentleman. 

“You look ravishing, my dear wife,” he comments, giving a smug, lopsided grin.

“Not your wife quite yet. We’re yet to be officiated,” you respond back with a smile.

“No need to mind the details. We’re about to be, anyway.”

He offers up his arm, and you’re quick to put your hand around it.

The two of you stand underneath an opulent arch, decorated with countless delicate roses. As the officiant makes his speech, you and Sukuna face each other hand in hand, exchanging gazes that contain nothing but false affection.

“The Bride and Groom shall now make their vows.”

The crowd watches intently, falling under a noticeable hush.

“On this joyous day, I, Ryomen Sukuna, will take you as my one and only – my lawfully wedded wife,” his voice booms brilliantly around this almost ethereal-looking wedding venue.

“I vow to bring forth happiness and fulfilment to our most tender, yet unshakable connection we share – and offer up my whole heart to you – as I shall be the valiant protector of our betrothal.”

He executes the speech with great accuracy and enthusiasm, which you are fairly impressed by. You almost let out a giggle from it, knowing that he is most undoubtedly rolling his eyes internally at the words that had just come out from his mouth.

“And I, (Y/N) (L/N), take you as my one and only – my lawfully wedded husband,” you mirror, letting your voice ring out just as he had let his.

“I vow to wholeheartedly embrace and value you as my other half, devoting myself to our most cherished relationship – where I shall tend to the light that our love emits, and treasure it endlessly.”

All of these fancy words - if only everyone knew that they were nothing but empty promises. Nevertheless, finally being able to say them aloud relieves a great weight from your shoulders. It’s almost over.

“You may now seal those promises with a kiss.”

Your eyes widen for a moment.

…You’d forgotten all about the very highlight of all wedding ceremonies. The kiss. 

Looking to Sukuna with slight uncertainty, you wonder if you should be the one to initiate it–

He flashes you a gentle smirk. You’d overlooked this part, hadn’t you? He seems to ask.

He pulls you closer to him by snaking his arm around your waist without hesitation, and firmly presses his lips against yours. Having your worries been alleviated, you close your eyes during the kiss. The crowd cheers and a thunderous clap takes over the air around you.

The tips of your tongues brush up against each other, before he pulls away at the appropriate timing, leaving behind a very miniscule and delicate sense of disappointment from having it end so quickly.

The two of you make your way down the steps and walk through the aisle for the grand exit - stepping on the extravagant white carpet that leads to the outside world. Beautiful pink petals are showered down from the ceiling at this perfect timing - and the crowd continues their cheers tirelessly. From the corner of your eye, you inspect that the photographers are doing their jobs in a satisfactory manner.

From the way you and Sukuna bring up your smiles, it wouldn’t be an understatement to say that the two of you are excellent actors.

The path leads all the way to the sleek limousine that awaits the new couple.

You’re mildly surprised to see that it’s raining outside. The weather forecast this morning hadn’t said anything about rain this afternoon. Different hues of grey adorn the sky – the clouds are seemingly vehement on concealing its true colour today. As each of your respective secretaries open up a large umbrella to shelter the two of you, you wonder in dismay. Is this supposed to be some kind of omen?

Getting inside the vehicle, you confirm that the driver is Ijichi, and feel the tension from your body disappear in an instant, now being able to settle down a little more naturally.

“My face hurts from all that smiling,” Sukuna grunts beside you.

“I can say the same,” you agree, caressing your own cheek with your hand.

The limousine will drop by both of your homes, where each of you will get changed into more comfortable clothing before taking off for the airport. Luggage had already been packed prior to the wedding. You’re exhausted, and you could say that you’re pretty envious of Sukuna’s relaxed state that you see once you come back down after changing.

“You must be tired,” he suddenly comments, eyeing you up once you’ve seated yourself comfortably, putting your seatbelt on.

“What makes you say that?” you ask him.

He reaches his hand out to your head, where he gingerly takes something up. When he opens his palm for you to see it, you realise that it’s a petal from the wedding.

“Forgot to check the mirror?” Sukuna asks rhetorically with a cocky undertone.

You let out something like a helpless laugh.

“Thank you for picking up on it.”

The ride to the airport is entirely silent, with you and Sukuna quietly staring out into the windows, watching the scenery outside. As much as you would’ve liked to fall asleep to the softly orchestrated patter of rain against the car’s exterior…you just couldn’t seem to.

After arriving at the airport, you thank Ijichi for his extra service, and promise that his bonus will be sent to his account very shortly. Then, the two of you are guided to the boarding entrance, where you’re seated in the elite economy class.

The plane is headed for Paris, France. A little cliche and overdone, but it’s a place you’d been to most frequently, as your parents had taken you there often for business purposes. The ride goes without any issues, as Sukuna had let out the occasional yawn beside you, before slipping on a silk eye mask and going for a nap. He managed to wake himself up a little before the plane landed.

Upon your arrival at the grand hotel in the bustling city of Paris, the two of you are booked into the same room but with separate bedrooms. The luggage is handled carefully, as the bellman guides both of you to the room.

“I was thinking we could use this opportunity,” he says as he walks close beside you, “to spend the night like how all newlyweds do.”

The fatigue has worn your usual polite attitude off, and you have to roll your eyes at him.

He thoroughly enjoys getting under your skin.

“Quite the charming suggestion. Too bad that I have no energy for that right now.”

“Are you implying that you might in the future?”

“...Think of it as you will, Sukuna.”

The moment you enter, you drag your feet over to your own room.

“I’m going to sleep straight away. Feel free to spend the day how you wish,” you tell him, before going inside and closing the door behind you.

Sukuna has a little bit more energy to burn off, since he took a long nap on the plane – so he decides to step out and enjoy the outside city while he’s here.

It’s not as if it’s his first time in Paris - he’d done a lot of travelling back in his younger days, when he used to be absolutely drunk on the amount of money he was making. He already knows which restaurants and shops are to his taste, and since it’s been a while, he decides he’ll pass some time by revisiting those same places.

He very much enjoys his independent shopping – particularly that feeling of satisfaction at the end, when he’s gained a handful of carefully selected goods. The first place he drops by is a luxurious shoe store, where he picks the pairs that fancy him most, and an employee is immediately ready to come down and help him with fitting them on.

By the end of his little trip, Sukuna’s accompanying assistant has his arms full with various shopping bags, filled with new suits, shoes, expensive cologne… let’s just say that he’s very keen about maintaining his appearance for self satisfaction. And each item was carefully chosen from the designer brands that Sukuna favours greatly.

His bags are dropped off to his room by that same assistant. Before he goes back, Sukuna heads off to the hotel’s bar, where he plans to spend some quiet time with a drink to finish off the day.

This hotel’s well established bar is quite suited to his liking, he thinks, as skims his surroundings, languidly making his way through the dimly lit, atmospheric area.

What he orders tonight at the bar counter is a boulevardier cocktail – being in the mood to have something bittersweet on his taste buds. He’s barely had a chance to take a sip of the drink, when someone all too abruptly claims the empty seat to his right.

“I’ll have a dry martini, please.”

The phrase makes Sukuna whip his head to the side, being mildly pleased to think that it might be the person who he assumes it is.

…He finds that it’s a woman he doesn’t know of at all, staring back at him with a sly smile. He doesn’t visibly show any disappointment, but he does face the front again, before taking a gulp out of the crimson-coloured liquid that resembles the hue of his eyes.

“What, am I not pretty enough for you?” the girl asks in a playful manner.

“...I wouldn’t say that. You’re not too bad to look at,” Sukuna responds honestly.

He entertains her for a little while, doing the bare minimum to keep up with the conversation. She seems so eager to escalate things with him, and he considers it, seeing as he’s got nothing better to do. The contract does state that such relations are permitted for both parties, so long as it’s outside of the media’s attention.

There’s lots of casual touching going on, whether it’s brushing her hand over his, or placing them onto his shoulder or arm, being very blatant in the way she flirts.

The woman hovers inches away from his face, and he stares down at her while he makes some last minute decisions. His gaze falls down to her lips.

“Well? What do you say?” she urges him for an answer, leaning closer to him.

“We could head up to my room and…keep each other some company.”

Just as she thinks she’s gotten him on board, Sukuna grabs her face and pushes her away, deeming that it’s too bothersome for all of that tonight. She pouts right after he lets go of her.

“And I thought we were on the same page… can I ask why?”

He downs the rest of his drink in one go before showing the girl the ring on his left hand.

“At least pay for my drink!” she exclaims as a last resort.

“I’ll be taking my leave, then.”

“Wha- are you going already?!” she questions, thoroughly disappointed. He ignores it, and is already taking steps towards the exit.

With a hand in his pocket, he stops in his tracks, and turns slightly to the side to give her one final glance.

“Too bad. I don’t buy drinks for just anyone.”

Sukuna then heads back up to his room, wondering if you’ll be awake by the time he arrives.

When he’s back inside however, you seem to still be in your deep slumber, seeing as there’s no sign of life around the lounge and no sounds coming from your room. Even for someone as capable as you, managing to prepare everything for that extravagant wedding must’ve been arduous work. He’s in no place to feel irritated at you. It impresses him – how you arranged everything within a limited amount of time, while also fulfilling your duties as a CEO.

Sukuna takes his jacket off and then begins to loosen his tie. After a day of shopping, nothing is better than taking a hot bath to relax the muscles. He can make use of that built in jacuzzi tub in the bathroom, and freshen himself up.

It doesn’t take long for the steam to begin rising from the water as the tub slowly fills up, bubbling up at the sides. He makes himself comfortable towards the edge of the tub, where he lets out a sigh and leans back - the water stopping at the comfortable level, being his chest. He slicks his moistened hair back, and something gets caught in his fingers as he does so. 

Looking down at his hand, he sees that it’s a small, pink petal. It must’ve blended in well in his hair from the wedding, this entire time. Thinking of you, a sinister smirk makes its way upon his features.

How reassuring it is, to have a wife so capable. You’ll certainly be a useful asset for him to utilise in the future.

Perhaps a little difficult to crack open, but that’ll only make the end result all the more rewarding.

-

In the following morning, Sukuna wakes up to some noises outside of his room, and he figures that it’s you walking about after sleeping for almost a whole day, if that’s even possible. Doing a great yawn, he does a quick self-check in the mirror, and proceeds to step out of his room.

You’re latching a watch onto your wrist when the door to Sukuna’s room opens up, revealing the man with his hair down, wearing some loose, comfortable clothing. Having woken up very early, you had taken the time to get dressed after that well-deserved sleep you had.

“Good morning,” you tell him, while checking the tightness of the watch on your wrist.

Damn right he is. After sleeping for a day straight, you’re gonna ignore him again and go about your own business?

“Going somewhere?” he asks curtly, without greeting you back.

“Yes, in about two hours or so,” you say, wondering why he seems mildly irritated towards you today.

“I’m going to a piano concert. I doubt you’ll be interested, but you're welcome to join me.”

A piano concert? Shit sounds boring as hell. Of course you’d be interested in that.

Being invited under these premises… like being offered leftovers… he can’t help but feel a little displeased.

“You have a spare ticket?” he asks with a raised eyebrow.

“I always buy the seats at either side of mine. I’d rather not sit next to strangers.”

“I’ll go. I have nothing better to do around here anyway,” Sukuna says, with a voice that sounds like he’s doing you a big favour. Maybe he’ll take this chance to learn a thing or two more about you.

“Wonderful. I’ve also ordered room service for us, so we can have breakfast together if you’d like?”

That seems to have appeased him a bit, which forms a little smile on your face.

Perhaps around an hour and a half later, the two of you leave the hotel to head over to the auditorium, which requires only a short walk. 

Sukuna trails behind you as you stride over towards your seats, where you’re able to make yourself comfortable. From this location in the auditorium, you catch sight of people clambering around towards their seats below. There’s still a bit of time left before the show begins.

He falls quiet for a few seconds, which makes you give him a discreet little glance.

“I’m surprised you actually came all the way out here with me,” you tell him, in order to strike up some sort of conversation.

“I figured that even a dull piano recital would be better than being stuck in my room all day,” Sukuna responds with nonchalance, crossing his legs.

“You wouldn’t know that it’s dull yet, would you? It hasn’t even started yet.”

“I guess you’re correct. You did prove me wrong before, after all.”

You make a quizzical expression at him, and a sly smirk creeps up onto his features.

“Your wedding dress. It was unique. Beautiful, even,” he admits.

A moment of realisation later, you let out a small chuckle.

He’s a little disappointed by that response. He’d like to catch you looking all flustered, one of these days.

“I’m glad you were able to learn something from our wedding,” you tell him.

“And of course,” he continues, “the one wearing it, even more so.”

“Why, thank you very much. You looked quite stunning as well. I knew that suit would compliment you nicely.”

The conversation is cut off when the concert begins with the lights dimming, as a pianist makes their way onto the large stage.

More than the music itself, Sukuna was finding that his attention was garnering towards your reactions more. You seem to be enjoying yourself.

…Though it wasn’t long before he was beginning to zone out a little, being easily disengaged with the concert, as he isn’t exactly one for piano music.

By the end of the show, you see that he is very eager to leave the auditorium. You can’t help the childish way the corners of your lips rise in response. He’s quite easy to read, at least when it comes to these smaller moments.

“Why don’t you get up on stage yourself next time? That’d be something more worthwhile to watch,” he says, bringing an image of you sitting before the large instrument up in his mind.

“You must be an avid fan of the piano,” Sukuna says with a grunt, as they leave the bustling area.

“Only casually, every now and then. Out of everything I was required to learn as a child, I liked the piano the most.”

“I’m flattered that you think so. But I prefer listening over playing it myself.”

Your words erase the image out of his mind.

The rest of the “honeymoon” goes by without much happening between the two of you, only quietly sharing meals together or the occasional drinking session; though neither of you were able to get drunk - due to being a tad too cautious around each other.

-

Your first day back at the office felt quite refreshing.

Everyone was busy, and the hotel’s wedding venues especially; as you had predicted, there was an overflow of requests coming in from couples who had seen the photos of your marriage on the website. They did come out very beautifully - almost like something out of a scene in a film. It was worth paying those photographers the good money.

At your desk, you scroll through the various article titles that have been published on several gossip sites – featuring the topic of your wedding mainly focusing on Sukuna.

[Sukuna, a CEO notorious for breaking the hearts of many actresses, gets married?]

[CEO of Malevolent Casino settles down for owner of Golden Rose Enterprise. A match made in heaven?]

[A womaniser reformed, CEO of Malevolent Casino enters wedlock!]

Oh, how you laughed until your stomach hurt. You can imagine the kind of face he’d make if he read any of these titles. The overwhelming attention is even better than you had expected. You even have a few interview requests from some of these gossip magazines. Doing a few of them wouldn’t hurt, would it?

The two of you have even set up a shared home, put together by Sukuna himself, just in case there comes a moment when you need it. Though you weren’t very happy about the design choices he’d made, when furnishing the place. For now, an agreement was made that living under the same roof together was not necessary.

Later in the day, you receive a call from the man himself.

“So, are you enjoying the fruits of our labour?” he asks as soon as you pick up.

“Yes, it truly is satisfying. Getting married at our venues seems to have become a little trend now,” you tell him proudly.

“Good for you. I hope you’re remembering your part of the deal, however,” he states with warning, “I’m yet to see any of those fruits growing on my end.”

You chuckle a little at his words.

“Of course I do. I have something in mind that will help with that,” you reassure him.

“But before we go into any detail for it…” you say, as you read over the email for an interview request on your computer screen, “let’s do one interview, about our marriage.”

You smile as you hear Sukuna make a little noise of grimace from his end.

-

“This better be worth doing,” Sukuna mutters, as he walks alongside you in the corridor, towards where the interview will take place.

“I wouldn’t suggest doing anything that’s a waste of time,” you tell him with confidence.

His expression of indignance doesn’t change.

“After all, it’s a good opportunity to have this attention on us last a little longer,” you add on.

“I already figured. Aren’t you mooching off of my image a bit too much?” he narrows his eyes at you.

“Oh, don’t be like that. I was thinking we could start the planning for that collaboration of ours soon. Wouldn’t that be to your liking?”

That seems to quell his discontent, for now. You open the door at the end of the corridor.

“The two of you have stirred the media up quite a bit through your sudden marriage! Please tell us your story on how you first met each other.”

The interviewer speaks to you and Sukuna with a bright smile, gesturing politely towards the vague direction between you both. Of course, you had prepared a little bit of a script for both yourself and him, but he’d brushed it off, saying that he was able to wing something like this easily.

“Well, our first meeting was-”

“It’s rather cliche, but we met at a bar,” he cuts you off abruptly. It catches you off-guard. You only hope that he won’t say anything unnecessary.

“I was the one that approached her, after catching her gaze from across where she sat,” he continues, crossing his legs. The excited interviewer types away on her laptop, recording his words.

“My! That does sound romantic. Please do give us more details.”

Sukuna does an excellent job at mixing the truth with his lies, and surprisingly enough, you’re the one sitting in silence as he does most of the talking while you act as backup to his story. It’s even better than the script you’d made up originally. He’s clearly picked up the skill to smoothly manipulate his stories.

“Our last question in the interview is directed towards the both of you. What compelled the two of you to choose each other for marriage? What do you love most about one another?”

A question that wasn’t on the damn script. They always love to sneak a few extras in like this. And technically that was two questions, not one. Sukuna is about to express his displeasure towards the interviewer, but you speak up before he does.

“I appreciated his very forward way of approaching me. How he’s difficult to read, granting him a more mysterious appeal. Arguably arrogant at times, but rightfully so, considering how clever and charming he is. For one second I was only a little intrigued by him, but then in the other…he’d suddenly become the apple of my eye.”

How do you say all of that without batting an eyelash? Part of him wonders if you perhaps meant any of it, even just a little.

“That is wonderful! I understand why you’d be infatuated. What about you, Mr. Ryomen? Did you also feel equally as captivated?”

He certainly won’t lose to you.

“...But of course. Her strong sense of independence. How competent she is. She mentioned that I’m difficult to read - but that hardly seems to be the case. She reads me like a book, and I find that so interesting,” Sukuna looks at you with a smirk and naturally places his hand over yours, squeezing lightly.

“It had been a while since I’d chased after someone rather than be chased – but that only made our relationship all the more sweeter.”

You’re impressed with how willingly he shot back at you, with his impromptu speech. The interviewer, oblivious, swoons as the two of you exchange smiles.

“There were nothing but satisfying answers during this session. Thank you so much for your participation!”

The interview is wrapped up nicely, and the two of you walk out after shaking hands with her.

Your insincere wordings are sickeningly sweet, like caramel, clinging onto him with its viscous texture.

“The apple of your eye, huh?” he goads, eyeing your response.

“Yes, my dear husband. The apple of my eye,” you repeat, with a relaxed demeanor.

“Very endearing,” he says – with venom in his tone.

A car awaits outside for the two of you, its engine already on and ready to drive off.

“While we’re here, perhaps we should talk about the event I’ve set up for us,” you tell him, fastening your seatbelt.

Sukuna opens his eyes instantaneously. He’s going to do… what?

“Go on, I’m listening,” he says, crossing his arms and resting his head back with his eyes closed.

“We’re going to do some volunteer work at an aged care facility,” you say bluntly, paying no mind to his dismissive posture.

Judging from that reaction, apparently not.

“Are you fucking around with me?”

“No? Actually, I was half expecting that you would’ve seen this coming.”

“This is still only phase one – improving your reputation. I’m even organising a few journalists to publish an article for us,” you tell him unapologetically.

He looks comically displeased.

“There’s a lot of guilt that follows when it comes to a hobby like gambling. It’s already considered a taboo, but with a company holding an unfavourable image like yours, newcomers are hesitant. Our partnership isn’t enough to put all of that behind,” you explain.

“And if I said no?”

“This isn’t for me more than it is for you.”

“You must be joking. How is taking care of some old fossils beneficial to me?”

“Let’s just say that it’s a ploy,” you start.

Sukuna rolls his eyes, despite knowing that you’re correct on that.

“I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

“Addicts are constantly looking for excuses to be addicted. What’ll happen if they believe you made this company for a good cause?”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” he scoffs, returning to his former attitude. “And I’m guessing you expect me to throw in a donation there too.”

Sukuna grunts with annoyance.

His aloofness resembles the behaviour of an unhappy child – but you don’t dare tell him that aloud.

“It’ll only be a few hours of work. Get a couple of good photos in and we’ll be done,” you say, sympathetically.

“How reassuring.” He doesn’t bother to look your way again.

-

Sukuna is used to doing things forcefully. If there’s something that he wants, he’ll pluck it out of the hands of another, regardless of if it’ll affect that person or not. If there’s a crowd of people around him, he’ll push and shove them out of his way, not caring whether someone gets trampled or not. And if there’s anyone that inconveniences him… he doesn’t hesitate to kick them down, until they’re crying on their knees for forgiveness.

And yet…. And yet…

Here he is, standing behind a table, wearing a tacky apron over his dashing suit as he dishes out soup for an old geezer, using a ladle. There’s a smile on his face, but a vein popping out on his forehead. The littlest inconvenience could make him lash out at somebody here.

He pours soup into the tray for the next elderly woman that is in line.

He wordlessly gives her a third scoop.

“More please,” she asks of him.

“Alright, sure,” he tells her, doing his best to sound friendly. Another scoop.

“Again,” she says.

“I want more!”

Her tray is already filled to the brim with soup, any more and she’ll end up spilling everything on her way to a table.

Sukuna is about to lose it.

She complacently walks off to find a seat somewhere, holding her tray.

“Ma’am, if you get any more, you’ll end up spilling it over. You can always come back for seconds. Promise we’ll still be here,” you butt in, before he blows over a fuse.

“Oh… alright then.”

You can barely contain the sigh that nearly spills out of your lungs.

“If you explain it to them clearly, they usually listen,” you tell him with a low voice, after she’s gone.

“Too bad I don’t wanna explain shit,” he very graciously responds.

Shortly after, you and Sukuna get your own portions of the same meals given to the elderly for lunch.

He kisses his teeth loudly and chucks his spoon down onto his tray, before getting up abruptly.

“Everything is lukewarm,” he comments, frowning.

“Can’t be helped. It’s a safety precaution, in case they burn themselves.”

You clearly note how the direction he heads towards is not where the restrooms are.

“Where are you going?”

“To the bathroom,” he lies without hesitation.

Fuck this whole event. Fuck this place. He considers leaving for a moment, but is quick to discard that idea, knowing he’ll hear no end of it from you afterwards. Only a few more hours to go, anyway. He steps outside, taking a quick scan of the area to make sure nobody is around before pulling a cigarette and lighter out from his pocket.

Lodging it between his lips, he uses his lighter against the end, but it seems to fail at producing any flames, adding on to his frustration.

He ignores you, because at this point, he knows nothing nice will come out of his mouth if he starts talking now. Why isn’t this goddamn thing working?

“Useless piece of shit,” he mutters, continuing his frantic attempts at the sparkwheel.

“Smoking is prohibited in this area,” a voice that he knows all too well comes from behind.

You stand beside him and hold something up with your hand. He sees that it’s a lighter.

He lights his cigarette, returns your lighter and then takes a big puff. He looks more noticeably relaxed.

“...You smoke?” he asks, taking it from your hand.

“Used to,” you tell him, crossing your arms.

“Just this once. Make it quick,” you tell him, looking around for people.

He lets out a short, curt hmph and blows another gust of smoke out.

“So what did you follow me all the way out here for? To babysit me?” Sukuna asks, still being quite moody about the situation.

“Looks like you already know. I thought it’d be best to keep an eye on you.”

He was going to shoot back with another snarky response, but a couple of voices could be heard coming from somewhere nearby. Before he can say a word on it, you’re suddenly grabbing his hand and dragging him away, elsewhere. The two of you end up in the area behind the building.

“Feel better now?” you say.

“Barely. Let’s finish this and go home already,” he grunts, dropping the cigarette butt onto the ground and putting it out with his foot.

“You should probably pick that up.”

All because of that… he thinks. Sukuna watches as you peer around the place, seeing if anyone is around again. A smirk slowly crawls up onto his face.

“Why the hell did we need to run? We could’ve just gone back in,” he says, raising an eyebrow.

“If they approached us, they would’ve smelled the smoke. You still reek of tobacco.”

“You sure that’s the only reason? Dragging me all the way here. By the hand, not to mention.”

He corners you against the wall behind you, trapping you between his arms.

“Who knows, I might even behave a little more if you help me relieve some stress,” he continues, looking down at you with sultry eyes. You don’t look flustered in the least, which kind of irks him.

To his confusion, you grab something out of your pocket. It’s packaged in plastic, and you make quick work to unwrap it.

His eyes then widen, when you grab his face and slip something inside his mouth, pushing it past his lips. Swiping his tongue over it, he realises it’s a mint lolly.

“Stop joking around, and chew on this instead. Maybe that’ll pipe you down,” you tell him, as you slip out from his trap by ducking underneath his arms. “And it’ll help get rid of the smell, while it’s at it.”

“Come. We’re going back inside.”

His eyes follow you as you begin walking back already without him. He even considers spitting this lolly down to the ground. But he doesn’t.

Sukuna was very dismayed once they had gotten back. They found that lunch break was over and there were dishes to be done. By them.

He gnaws on the lolly as he shoves the last tray into the dishwasher. It gets shut, and with the press of a button, it begins its work. Turning around, he sees you at the sink, manually washing some dishes up, because there’s only so much that a dishwasher can contain.

“Look at you, doing such a good job. You should do this professionally,” he comments, coming up from behind. He really has nothing serious to say today.

Your flat reply kills his playful banter immediately, and he can’t help but narrow his eyes as the last of the lolly melts away in his mouth. He aggressively puts on some rubber gloves and pushes you aside at the sink.

“Mind lending a hand?” you ask him, without looking back.

“I don’t know if I feel like helping.”

“Alright - don’t, then.”

There’s a smile that blooms on your face when you look at him in this moment, and it’s genuine, which is kind of rare, coming from you. Your reaction makes the dishes worth doing for just a bit, at the very least. He thinks.

“We’ll take years to get back home at your pace. Not doing it for you, so don’t misunderstand.”

“...Yes, I’m aware.”

Not long later, someone comes along inside – the same old lady that had asked for extra soup from Sukuna earlier on. He’s never been more appalled to see someone again.

“You missed this one!” she says, holding up a dirty spoon.

She approaches slowly, but somehow misses a step and stumbles a little, causing the spoon to smear over Sukuna’s suit, just below the shoulder area.

“Oh… dearie me. My legs don’t work the way they used to,” the woman mutters, looking down at her limbs. After dropping the spoon off in the sink, she pats him on the back.

“Sorry, young man,” she says, before trudging away again.

The two of you stand in silence, with Sukuna having a darkened expression on his face.

Your stifled laughter breaks it, and he whips around to see you enjoying this shitty situation.

“That hag…” he mutters, popping out a vein again on his forehead.

He hears another chuckle from you.

He’s left alone with his simmering anger for a few moments, until you come back holding a packet of wet wipes. Adjusting his position by grabbing his shoulders, you begin wiping away the…remnants of what was on the spoon from his clothes. He grimaces with disgust.

“Quit laughing! Fuck’s sake, I’m gonna leave-”

“Wait here,” you cut him off, degloving yourself.

“Alright then, as you wish.”

“You wore a dark colour today, so it should be fine.”

“Fine? Nothing will be fine until I get back at that old witch.”

“Don’t be like that to a frail old woman. I’ll buy you a new suit if it bothers you so much.”

“...Forget it. I can buy my own suits without your help,” he grumbles, getting back to the dishes.

After wrapping up the day with the remaining formalities, you and Sukuna exit the facility, into the car park. You crack another smile when he immediately takes his jacket off and chucks it at Uraume, who catches it gracefully, being accustomed to this sort of behaviour.

“Get it cleaned thoroughly. For now, I want it out of my sight,” he says sternly, loosening his tie. He wants to go home and shower. Never coming back to this godforsaken place again.

Just a few days later, the finalised draft of the article that is to be published online is sent to your email. It mentions the volunteer work you and Sukuna had done during the day, and also talks briefly about the generous donation that was given to the facility – just the way you’d requested them to. Sukuna won’t be too happy about the photos that show him wearing that apron, but it’s a well worth sacrifice to make. It's during these times, where you’re grateful for the connections you have with the media. You send them the approval email in response.

Once the article is published, you forward the link for Sukuna to see.

He skims through the blocks of uninteresting text on the site, and abruptly stops scrolling when he gets to the photos that have been added in.

There are key moments that had been photographed; when they were serving the food, when they were helping with the dishes, and when they shook hands with the one in charge of that facility. But the image that stands out to him the most, is the one taken when they were manually washing some trays together. 

His own face isn’t visible because he has his back to the camera, but your genuine smile, as you’re looking at him, can be seen clear as day. 

“The photographer deserves a raise,” he speaks to himself.

When’s the next time he’ll ever get an expression like that out of you again?

…He shuts his laptop screen down. It doesn’t matter, anyway. He’s not here to try and make you happy, after all.

-- To be continued --

Masterlist

[circe69]

𝐌𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐜 𝐌𝐚𝐧 - [simon riley x reader]

nurse!reader x simon, flirting, fluff mentions of blood, wounds, stiches, part two? ৻( •̀ ᗜ •́ ৻)

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

You wandered the halls, following the trail of blood down the cheap marble tile. It was fresh, so were the muddy footprints intertwining with the red liquid. You turned a corner and found a masked man leaning against the wall, holding his side with every ounce of strength in his body and groaning in pain.

You gasped, and he noticed. He turned to you, but acted as if you were invisible, and immediately looked back out the window he was staring through for so long. Your feet scurried over to him; his body hunched over. "You're hurt," you whispered, your words barely even comprehendible.

"I'm aware," he croaked out. He started to move away, but it was almost like his body wouldn't let him.

"Let me look at it, please." You put a reassuring hand on his shoulder carefully, but he shunned it away. Getting up, he winced in pain and started walking back down the hallway you just traveled. "I've got it under control." His brooding voice could carry for miles and miles, and even though he seemed like he meant it, you would never forgive yourself if you just let him walk it off like he so desperately wanted to.

"Please, sir." His tall legs were no match for you, his walking speed being somehow faster than your running pace. "You wouldn't want it to get infected, you could get sic-" you tugged on his ripped t-shirt, making his body abruptly turn to stand parallel to yours. His eyes zeroed in on yours, and he started to close the distance between the two of you.

"Are you even a doctor? A nurse? A medical professional of any kind?" He hissed; his words were nothing short of mimicking an animal preying on its dinner. It'd be scary, intimidating to most, but all you could focus on was the horribly disguised pain at the end of his words.

"Yes, I am. I have a degree," you whispered, almost trying to make him feel guilty for yelling. He would never admit it, but your doe eyes and the way your jaw was upturned to face him properly was enough to make him do absolutely anything you wanted.

His eyes rolled slightly, his head turning back and forth to make sure no one was watching him give in, "Fine." Something you didn't know was that this man was notorious for tending to his own wounds, on his own time, and if word got out that he accepted help from a newbie nurse, he'd never hear the end of it.

The man grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you into a small closet, with one light bulb. He wasted no time in peeling off his blood-soaked shirt, his muscles being highlighted by the dim gleam of the lamp. His fingers snapped inches away from your face when he noticed you staring, and you felt the heat rush to the tip of your ears.

You shook your head, hoping you shook the embarrassment off with it, and looked at the wound. Stab wound, it looked like. It wasn't too deep, but if you hadn't inspected it sooner, infection may have set in.

"You're lucky I stopped you," you said with a slight smile and guiding him to a chair. You kneeled down to examine closer, and he flinched as your soft fingertips grazed the skin around the cut.

"How dare someone hurt you," your voice was small, you hoped he hadn't caught it. But alas, he grabbed your hand, which was gently holding a wet washcloth to clean his wound and forced you to look him in the eyes. His hurt, scared eyes, met yours. They didn't seem as annoyed as he probably wished they did. But you thought they were beautiful.

"Just finish your job and let me go back to mine."

You didn't fail to notice the hesitation in his voice, the hesitation he had to speak to you in such an avoidant manner. But you couldn't let it hinder you, you knew he just wanted to leave. For whatever reason, it didn't matter. Well, you didn't have time to let it matter.

You nodded, and once you finished cleaning and placing gentle sutures along his rough skin, you tapped his knee to signal that you were done. He stood, his balance being wobbly from sitting for so long, and you reached out to help him, but he shook his head.

You shouldn't have, but you spoke in a disheartened, loud tone, "You are a stubborn man, not letting a nurse help you."

As soon as you spoke, you felt his eyes laser onto you, your exposed neck and face being singed by his gaze. You nervously looked up at him but stood your ground and straightened your posture.

"Maybe so," he said as he limped out of the room, hand on his freshly wrapped side, "Maybe so."

"At least tell me your name, I'll accept it as somewhat a thank you for all of this," you yelled after him.

"Check your neck, sweetheart." He said, never looking back.

You rubbed your hand around your neck, feeling a cold metal chain. Lifting it up, you saw a silver dog tag, Simon "Ghost" Riley, 22nd SAS Regiment, Task Force 141

You flipped the tag over, "Magic Man"

Smiling to yourself, you tucked the dog tag into your shirt, and walking back into the closet to clean your materials.

Magic Man, huh? Let's see what other tricks you have up your sleeves.

[homosexualmorelikehomiesexual]

GOD i cant stop thinking about how weird it is that twilight was inspired by MCR which was inspired by 911. when everyone else was caught up in this aggressve patriotism as a form of defense and an excuse for violent bigotry, mcr said lets make something beautiful. lets make something that will let us heal. and then twilight and harry potter used to have this whole fandom feud, but ended up almost being two sides of the same coin. both deeply terrible and written by bigoted white women who either did nothing to amend for the damage her respective writing did, or actively tried to make it worse. and how they ended up sort of being married together by the creation of My Immortal, which is arguably a twilightified fanfic of harry potter, written by someone that absolutely worshipped gerard way. and how mcr was asked to make a song for the twilight soundtrack to which they said fuck you and instead made Vampire Money, a song about what itd be like if they succumed to capitalist greed and devalued their art by leaning into the edgy aesthetic beyond the end of its shelf life and whored out their emotions for profit. and then they broke up because it really Was killing them. and now theyre back. and then the WWWYf tour happened. and That happened. they turned it into an opportunity to make a giant fuck you to that selfsame concept, dressing up as a parody of what theyd have become if theyd done what the public wanted of them, if theyd stayed closeted and suicidal and become consumed by the addiction of selling that pain for profit. a point underlined by the contrast with how theyve been presenting themselves the past 3 months on their real tour, specifically gerard, and how specifically BECAUSE they took a hiatus, BECAUSE they didnt give into greed for more vampire money and didnt destroy themselves, they are alive today in order to be onstage now in front of us. awake and unafraid. a giant celebration of trans joy and affirmation and acknowledgement and love between them and us, their fans, specifically their trans fans. how they finished the WWWYf show with Vampire Money and no one in that crowd got it because no one in that crowd Would get it, and that perfectly crystalized their absolutely scathing point. and then on their real tour they made the more blatant but less serious reference by wearing a twilight shirt and talking about robert pattinson, just goofing off and having fun being gay, bc with us they finally can. and in the meantime, jk rowling has written a self insert cringe comp book longer than the fucking bible trying desparately to cling to relevancy and make herself out to be the victim in her own transphobia, desparately whoring out her bigotry for profit. and the fact that 50 shades of gray is just a twilight fanfic that caused 365 Days to get written and also kind of caused the normalization of fanfic getting turned into actual monetized netflix level media. but ofc its only okay when its cishet. the smut turned netflix series exuality is only acceptable when its straight. and its all toxic af!!! but somehow its fine that THATS plastered on every billboard!!! but the original queer people it was inspired by were shunned and shamed and now that theyre back from the dead, everyones trying to capitalize on their return. and they said go fuck yourselves!!!! and meanwhile the same type of people who hate us and them ARE succumbing to that greed, and theyre fucking floundering!!! just.i just. i. uGHGGGGGG

[harpagornis]

MTG Analysis: LGBT and the color pie

So this is something a bit out of left field since its not Pride Month but I felt like writting this so sue me.

MTG has had a long history with LGBT topics and characters, from Xantcha from the early days to an explosion of LGBT characters in recent years. Officially, homophobia doesn’t exist in the Multiverse (I call bull if you’re familiar with older canon) and that’s fine and dandy, not everyone needs bigotry in their escapism.

However, I like to keep things real, and the matter of fact is that the color pie is philosophical. So I though it’d be fun to see how the colours interact and react to LGBT topics.

White

White I think is the easiest to depict as homophobic/transphobic. After all, real world religions and politics have persecuted LGBT individuals, and White is all about marginalising the outgroup, imposing restrictions on community and using faith as means to dictate one’s life. Conversely, White is also likely to be shown as an ally, since it often also fights for the meek and vulnerable.

An interesting way to depict White in this regard is the different double standards it may have. For example, in some real world cultures trans individuals are accepted because they’re seen as a way to enforce gender roles, while non-binary or gay individuals are shunned because they dismantle gender roles. Conversely, homosexuality may be seen as means to reinforce military bonds, which plays in White’s love of community + militarization.

Overall, because White often governs over society and factions I think there’s a real potential for worldbuilding.

Blue

On the surface, Blue can appear as rather accepting since it believes in reason and science. Its philosophy of one being able to do anything one desires to improve oneself also plays well into accepting trans people. I don’t think there’s a coincidence that the two first non-binary planeswalkers are Blue aligned; one even defied fate for crying out loud!

However, Blue’s belief in tabula rasa also means that it doesn’t believe anything is inherent. Therefore, Blue is the most likely to believe in conversion therapy. Worse, given Blue’s factions penchant for amoral science it is the color most likely to dispense “cures” for homosexuality and make straight designer babies.

In conclusion, Blue’s allyship is highly dependent on what it feels self-improvement entails. On a good day, it rallies for LGBT rights. On a bad day, it makes White look reasonable in comparison.

Black

Black, being the colour of individuality and giving the middle finger to societal norms, is most accepting of all letters of LGBT. This comes with a big caveat, however: it is focused on the individual foremost. So if going to a pride parade displays one’s power and charisma, it will do so. If being a closeted bigoted politician provides that, it will be so. Black has no morals or obligations, why should it care if it can be a hypocrite or profit off pride?

A very fairweather ally, but a staunch supporter especially to spite bigotry.

Red

Red is the colour of freedom and self-expression. It has no patience for those tearing others down in the name of society and laws. Naturally, I think it’s a no-brainer that it is the most LGBT positive colour. It loves who it loves and indentifies as it identifies, and unlike Black it has a sense of empathy and a healthy dose of disregard for authorithy in any way shape or form. And its always down to experiment!

That said, I can see some violently homophobic characters being partly-Red aligned, with some other color to provide reasons as to why Red’s normal love of self-expression is restricted.

Green

Green, like White, is a double edged sword. It fundamentally believes in fate, tradition and genetics; on one hand, it can decry such things as “unnatural”, but on the other it can be supportive, especially if it sees such things as “always meant to be”. Unlike Blue, it believes things are inherent, so it is less likely to believe in “cures”. This in particular is why its dichotomy differs from White, as unlike it Green derives its beliefs from philosophical concepts rather than morality.

It’s opinions on trans topics in particular can be pretty interesting: does it see an individual’s body as the natural truth, or the soul? Loreley Writes once wrote a post I can’t find that Green magic could theoretically work with a person’s own identity to modify the flesh; that’d be a cool use of biomancy if made canon.

So in conclusion

I respect WOTC for not wanting to deal with topics that could backfire horribly, but I just can’t help myself!

[awonderfulliar]

We match. Part 2

Banda Sunato x reader

here's part 1: https://at.tumblr.com/awonderfulliar/we-match/mc444pdw7f6k

It had been a few hours since you and Banda had began walking. He was still holding your hand. That was quite strange actually. Why the hell was he holding it? Why aren't you doing anything about it? Safe to say, your cheeks were getting warmer each time he caressed your skin with his thumb. Silence could have seemed weird to anyone else, anywhere else. But here, in the Borderlands, with you two: it didn't feel that strange. Quite natural actually. Very natural even. You thought he was very attractive (even if a bit psychotic, you'll admit) and he seemed to have taken enough interest in you to keep you alive in the jack of hearts game. You owed him your life even if you didn't want to accept it. Or maybe you already accepted it. Maybe you wanted to owe him something. It was easier this way: you could pretend to have a valid reason to be this enticed by his person.

What even where you doing? Why did you ask him to come with you? And why did he, a serial killer, accept? Banda wasn't quite sure if he understood his previous choices or what the best course of actions was. He was just a tiny bit lost right now. It was pleasant, sure, but almost scary for him. Almost. He liked the way your skin felt against his. He wanted to explore this feeling, he wanted his skin to know yours better. It wasn't sexual (or not entirely at least); it just felt like a normal craving, like thirst and hunger.

However, real hunger pointed its nose as it you two hadn't eaten in now quite a while. You let go of his hand to hold your stomach as a growl as starting to escape out of it. It wasn't loud but he heard it.

-Hungry?

-What do you think? You ironically answered with a very small smile.

Banda turned around and started walking away from you as you stopped to watch him.

-You're not gonna find food back there... we would've seen it otherwise.

He didn't respond and started wandering off the path. You just stood there watching him getting further and further away.

-C'mon Banda, you're gonna get lost.

You didn't know what to do. You didn't want to stay there like that. But if you left he wouldn't find you again. So you went against your better judgement and waited. That gave you a chance to think. What were you doing with that guy? What were you thinking taking his hand like he was some kind a romantic interest in this awful, terrifying world? This wasn't the time to feel this way for anyone... especially not for a sociopath like him. You should leave. You should run off. Right now. Why aren't you leaving right now?

-Still hungry?

You emerged out of your sea of thoughts to find Banda in front of you with a dead rabbit in his hand and a soft smile on his lips. It was so weird to see him smile in broad daylight. You somewhat wanted to see more of it. You forgot to show the disgust you had for the killed animal he held. You just smiled in return.

-So?

-Yeah, my hunger didn't disappear in five minutes. Of course I'm still hungry.

You two stopped, started a fire, and Banda prepared the rabbit. The sun started to set and the light of the flames shun or Banda's forearms. You eyed his movements, wondering how a man trapped in such a horrible landscape could be so calm, precise, collected, and... sweet. You pinched yourself at that thought. He wasn't sweet. He didn't blink at all those dead people at the game. He didn't care.

-It's ready.

"Thanks" did you say as he handed you a leg of the rabbit. You both ate in silence. He watched you with his usual calm look. You, on the other hand, weren't calm. The stress, fatigue, or something else made you bite your tong harshly at the last bite of your food. You hissed in pain and closed your eye by reflex. When you opened them, Banda was standing near you. His hand was levitating over your thigh, not touching it yet.

-Are you okay? He said in a funny tone, amused at the situation.

-Yeah, I'm fine. It's nothing.

As you spoke, he noticed your teeth were stained with blood, not from diner, but your own.

-Open your mouth.

-Damn... buy a girl dinner first, alright?

-I did.

You laughed slightly as your lips spread in smile bigger than it should have been. He smiled too, yet again calm, resting his hand on your thigh. You opened your mouth.

-It's not deep, but still... what if it gets infected?

-It's in my mouth... it's not going to get infected. Nothing's getting in there.

He smiled again. You wanted to laugh and kid around again with him but as you were going to say something, noises came from your left.

A group of people were coming your way. Banda grabbed your hand hastily and rushed away from the noises. Next thing you know you were running. Your hand in his. A branch scratched your face, leaving a fine cut on your cheek. The freezing air made it impossible for you to notice; you couldn't feel your face. Actually, you couldn't feel anything beside Banda's hand holding yours. You could hear the sound of your feet running on the ground. You could hear him breathing heavily next to you, not yet out of breath like you were.

You stopped. You had no more breath, or energy in you. Banda looked at you. Your hands had separated when you ceased running. Your chest was going up and down, trying to find what you needed to keep running. He watched your chest heave with panic at each trembling breath. He held out his hand towards you, trying to get you to grab it. You looked at him straight in his eyes. You gathered all of the breath you had gotten back to say:

-Why did we run? We don't know who those people were. They could have been friendly.

-Have you ever met someone friendly in these lands?

You stared at him straight in the eyes with a look in your eyes that was meant to say "are you not supposed to be friendly? Am I not, myself, friendly?". His eyes slowly lowered to the ground.

-It's not supposed to be like this you know. His voice was calm, low, hardly hearable. He raised his hand to swipe the drop of blood from the cut on your cheek. We're not supposed to be friendly, you and I. You took his hand hand lowered it, leaving his hand in yours. We're supposed to betray each other at some point, to let the other die, or worst, kill them.

-The world is not supposed to be like this. And as the words continue flowing, you let his hand go. He doesn't move. We shouldn't be playing these games. They're the ones that are wrong. They're the ones that should be fixed, not us, not our behavior to one another. I won't betray you. I'm tired of betraying people. It's not right. It shouldn't be.

-It's the way it is, I'm afraid.

-Will you betray me? You looked at Banda with an impassive look in your eyes. You didn't want him to see his answer would affect you more than it should.

He didn't answer. Just starred at you with, for the first time, a worried look on his face. He wasn't worried about you betraying him. He wasn't worried about him betraying you. He was worried about him not betraying you. He was worried about his implacable sense of survival, his careless intelligence being affected by you. By a person he just met a few days ago. He was worried about what you would... or what you could do to him.

But you didn't see that. You saw a young man you thought you could trust incapable of confirming he wouldn't betray you. And in these trying times, you couldn't risk it.

-Then... Banda... I guess this is goodbye.

You turned around, and walked. Away. Away from him. Away from the uncertainty that came with feelings. It was okay, you guessed, to leave someone you weren't sure would stand by you no matter what. It was okay, you thought, to leave.

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It had been a few days since you left Banda in the woods. Right now, you needed to "renew your visa". In other words, you needed to participate in a game. So you picked a "hide and seek" you found in the streets and decided, once again, to risk your life for the pleasure of uncertainty of death.

The game began. You started running around, avoiding the men in horses' masks and climbing different walls to stay hidden. At some point, you were cornered by a seeker with an assault riffle and a guy you had met in a previous game who wanted you dead. He remembered, for you survived in that game by betraying his fiancee. She died because of you. He wasn't letting you pass him, leaving you helpless to face a tall man with a gun and a mask. As you were realizing that you were quite in a pickle, a shadow passed the guy blocking your way and a knife quickly made its way to your opposant's back. You weren't looking his way though, more focused on the horse head guy that had just noticed your presence. As his finger pulled the trigger, a hand grabbed your shoulder, pulling you toward the escape. You had no time to assess the situation, as the same hand that saved you, was grabbing yours and making you run away from the man with the riffle. As you found yourself in a safe looking corned, you saw your last minute savior. Banda. You wanted to say something but something was making you dizzy. So dizzy that you fell unconscious the next minute.

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When you woke up, Banda was sitting near you. You could only see his back. You didn't make a sound. You looked down to see a bandage covering your whole stomach, a red stain on your left side. Your shirt was lying next to a metal plate with what looked like the pieces of a small bullet. A dirty cup of water and a weird soup were disposed not far from Banda's calm body. You grabbed the water in silence and brought it to your lips. As you drank, some water spilled on your chest, making you shiver. A bra and a pair of pants weren't enough to keep you warm. Banda turned around as he heard you put the cup down.

-You're awake. Good. How do you feel?

-Why did you save me?

-How do you feel?

You didn't answer him in an immature attempt to regain control of a situation long gone out of your area of comfort.

-I followed you. Wasn't hard to. I saw you were in difficulty. I intervened.

-Why?

-I thought your little speech about not betraying people and helping one another was quite inspiring.

-I never said we should help each other.

-It was implicit.

You looked away for a second. The sun was rising. It was a nice view.

-Thank you. Did you say, your head turned away from him.

-Again. How do you feel? Did he say, his gaze still locked on you.

You touched a bit of the blood that was dripping from the bandage, and touched the left side of his stomach with the tip of your fingers.

-Look! We match.

You smiled in an idiotic childlike manner, forgetting it was blood and not paint you had on your hand.

-We do.

He smiled back in that enigmatic way that drew you in the first time you two met. You leaned a bit closer, the pain in your stomach not being able to convince your body to stay away from Banda's. He leaned in too, his eyes sparking with a tiny bit of curiosity. You laughed at the strangeness of the situation and your lips touched on his. You finally kissed him, with the fervor of people who had waited enough to do as they like. He kissed you back, putting his right hand on your back to support your body's weight. His calm attitude got overtaken by what seemed to you like excitation and you felt the laid back demeanor switch to a more passionate encounter. You smiled against his lips only for him to say:

-No, I won't betray you.