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silkscream · 5 months

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CHAPTER 7: TOO YOUNG TO GROW WINGS

ੈ✩ gojo satoru x reader, geto suguru x reader

He needed to learn how to stop being so goddamn obsessive. He’d work on it later, maybe. He’d try not to speak curses into existence from the way he felt about you.

At the moment, he wants to make this good for you. Something like love.

ੈ✩ chapter cw/tags: explicit content (18+ mdni) , unprotected sex, drunk sex, face sitting, blowjobs, cum eating (lol) lots and LOTS of angst, gore, blood, graphic descriptions of injuries, bullying, satoru being......... himself

ੈ✩ wc: 8.8k

ੈ✩ a/n: i wasnt gonna post this but then i was like well. i start a new job on monday so who knows if i'll be able to keep up the weekly update thing. this is also prob my fav chapter so i couldn't hold back OOPS enjoy the yaoi btw <3 title from angel by omar apollo

playlist ✸ read on ao3 ✸ series masterlist

April, 2009

Jujutsu Technical College looks lovely in the springtime—the golden light hits the room in a specific way that makes your body warm. You’re calm, nearly dozing off until three people barge into the classroom, taking up as much space as they can. When you open your eyes, you see Satoru, Suguru, and Shoko smiling at you as they take their seats.

The boys had convinced you to attend (with the help of Shoko) after informing you there was a generous stipend included with your education. Despite the scholarship you’d gotten from the college you’d meant to attend, they had easily persuaded you. You hadn’t had friends you were so close with before, after all.

“Suguru. Switch with her.”

“Huh?”

“Just do it. I want her to sit next to me.”

You lift your head, realizing that Satoru is talking about you. Suguru laughs nonchalantly and stands up to switch with you, and you move to replace him when you notice Satoru’s baby blues searing into your skin. He grins at you brightly as you roll your eyes.

It’s been like this for weeks – Satoru possessing you, claiming you, even though you never ask for it. Truthfully, it pools your stomach with ardor. You’ve never felt as wanted as you do when you were within a close radius of him.

It dwindles eventually when you realize that the boys’ strength is so far beyond yours. In combat, they’re flawless, beautiful in their movements as they spar. You’re happier to watch than join—Shoko thinks the same, often rolling her eyes every time the two of you are assigned to practice hauling cursed energy for the sake of fighting. It’s nice when you can get her alone, studying healing techniques and watching her reversed curse technique grow.

Sometimes, you don’t even know why you’re here. Shoko is talented and you aren’t. You’re useful enough for superficial wounds, but you can’t do a reversed cursed technique. You doubt you could even heal something of a higher caliber than what you’re used to. You fear the prospect of this revelation on a mission that you know Yaga will eventually send you on.

“Do they ever fight over you?” Shoko asks over a cigarette.

“Wh-what?”

“You know,” she drawls, smiling. “Satoru’s such a brat. Suguru is more open when you’re around. They’ve gotta be possessive, right?”

You shrug. You don’t know the extent of what she knows, but you can assume from the boys’ behavior that it was written all over their faces. Satoru’s hand on your waist, Suguru’s point to tower over you. Unspoken proximity wars between them with you in the middle.

“I don’t know about that. They’re overprotective for sure,” you admit, taking a slow drag of her cigarette when she offers.

“Twigs! Not you, too!” Satoru bellows. “Don’t give my girl your cancer sticks, Ieiri!”

Shoko laughs at that, grinning with the cigarette in between her teeth as you fold your hands into your lap.

My girl.

Satoru hovers over you and holds out his hands. Curiously, you take it, which you regret immediately when he pulls your body and hauls you over his shoulder. You thrash a bit as he laughs until you’re stumbling onto the grass. When Suguru throws a staff in your direction, you catch it reflexively.

“Ready?”

You roll your eyes. You’d gotten better at sparring, though you still choose to hang back and concern yourself with areas of Shoko’s expertise. She had become a mentor to you despite being a peer. Meanwhile, the boys had been trying to get you to practice combat, thinking you would do well with a cursed weapon.

You remember the first time you had tried to fight, watching Satoru and Suguru wrestle in the grass shortly after. Their raspy grunts, the skin of their waists underneath ridden-up shirts. The memory makes you flush.

“Yes,” you sigh.

You focus on Satoru’s eyes, saturated like a lightning strike. You were rather well-versed in the language of his body – you think that your intuition often matched Satoru’s rather equally. He was still much taller and larger than you, but you exceeded in your efforts to dodge. He didn’t often bother with hand-to-hand combat much anyway, much more focused on perfecting his inherent techniques.

You gasp when he decides to close the distance between you. The touch of his fingers on your skin is a jolt to the senses as his legs sweep you when you’re too occupied with dodging. You hit the ground with a thud, groaning.

“Sorry, babe,” he chuckles, leaning down to take your hand. When he does, you pull him backward so that he tumbles.

“Hey!”

“Payback,” you shrug. You maintain a fighting stance once again, staff in hand.

Suguru often took you more seriously, offering to teach you martial arts when Satoru was off on solo missions. You breathe heavily as Satoru takes his first swing, which you dodge by a hair.

Focused, you move with the grace of a ballet dancer, halting his movements with your staff the way Suguru had taught you. When you kick a leg high in the air, Satoru catches you by the ankle just for you to fall again. This time, you’re sure you’re bruised.

“There’s still time for you to give up,” he teases.

You groan in irritation, rising to your feet and walking closer to him. He smiles, enjoying seeing you pissed off and breathing so hard. He’s so wrapped up in looking at you that his senses are hit with whiplash – your fist gets through his Infinity easily and socks him square on the jaw.

“You little–”

“Why didn’t you have your Infinity on?” you exasperate, but he’s already pushing you to the ground and struggling with you the way you used to when you were children.

“I’m soooo gonna get you for that–”

You end up kicking him again, this time in the ribs as he groans. When you pin his wrists above his head, he merely stares at you with wild eyes and heaving breaths. His face is red and cherubic, and when he squirms, you squeeze his waist in between your thighs.

You lean down close to his face, your breath tickling his ear.

“I win,” you whisper. You flick him on the forehead and he flinches. You wonder again why he’s letting you touch him like this.

“Letting you pin me down isn’t me letting you win, sweetheart,” he rasps lowly, only for you to hear. He rolls his hips slightly and it makes your eyes widen, much to his satisfaction. You frown and crawl away from him just in time to hear Shoko beckoning you.

“Lab time!” she calls after you. Without a second look at Satoru, you follow her inside.

Satoru is lying on Suguru’s stomach, frowning because it isn’t as soft as yours.

He’s also without entertainment since Suguru has been hogging his DS for the better part of an hour, which Satoru had only let him do because he claimed he wanted to take a nap. But, as per usual, he can’t sleep. He’s still roused from sparring with you, slightly sweaty still from the warmth and the mustiness of the dorm room, and his cock is getting hard again just from thinking about you on top of him.

“Fuck,” Suguru swears under his breath, caught up in a game of Pokemon Emerald.

Satoru lifts his head to scoot his body higher, chin resting on Suguru’s forearm to peek at his progress.

“You’re doing terribly.”

“I know that, thanks,” Suguru groans. “I have like, two backup Pokemon left and they’re both level 30.”

“Do you use the same technique with your curses?” Satoru teases. Suguru makes another agitated noise again in response.

“You should’ve brought your Game Cube from home.”

Satoru shrugs, sighing as he sits up. He snatches his DS out of Suguru’s hands, interrupting the boy’s protest with a wet kiss to the mouth. Suguru kisses back immediately, tongue peeking into Satoru’s mouth before he pulls away.

“You haven’t kissed me in months,” he chuckles. Satoru shrugs.

“Maybe you haven’t kissed me in months.”

“I would’ve thought you’d count it as cheating.”

Satoru is quiet for a moment, rubbing Suguru’s jawline with his fingers gently. He’s been rather gluttonous lately, and he thinks Suguru is starting to catch on. He’s been clingier to the both of you, obnoxiously so, acting more of a nuisance to you specifically for the sake of attention. His heart is aflame whenever he sees you interact with Suguru in ways that are both good and bad, but he doesn’t prefer to dwell on it for very long before he nearly forces you to give him attention.

“Having withdrawals?”

“Huh?”

“She’ll be back soon,” Suguru laughs cruelly. “Whenever she’s gone for a bit, you act like you’re fucking dying.”

“No, I don’t,” Satoru frowns. But he knows he’s lying.

“Don’t mope. C’mere.”

Suguru sighs, seemingly out of pity. He grabs Satoru by the face and sticks his tongue in his mouth – a rough kiss out of spite, out of unbridled passion. He’d dreamt about Satoru and you for weeks, always sneaking glances.

He’d considered taking both of you months before when you and Satoru and Shoko threw him an impromptu surprise birthday party despite his refusal. He had seen you tipsy, squirming in Satoru’s lap while Utahime set up karaoke on the television, and decided he’d let you come to him when you wanted to. You were still a shy thing even after New Year’s, never asking again for his touch.

Satoru groans, palming his dick over his slacks as he leans back. He could feel his cock leaking in his boxers already just from the roughness of Suguru’s knuckles grazing his skin. There was a manic buzz in his head, thrilled by the slight power imbalance he was allowing.

Suguru hadn’t touched him since before he started seeing you, and even then, it was mostly rudimentary teenage lust. Jerking off to magazines together. Seeing how much they could take in their mouths before gagging like it was a competition.

“Fuck,” Satoru grunts, feeling Suguru’s tongue on his clavicle.

“You thinking about her?”

“Yeah,” he rasps.

Suguru chuckles darkly, biting harder at the bone. “She was so hot today. I taught her those moves, y’know.”

Satoru makes a mumbled nose, eyes fluttering shut as Suguru palms him. He unbuttons his slacks to reveal the snowy trail of hair above his pubic bone, Satoru’s cock flushed and weeping as Suguru holds it.

“Want me to fuck you?”

“Use your mouth,” Satoru pants. He knots a fist in Suguru’s dark hair. “Want it like this.”

He hisses when he feels Suguru’s mouth. His jaw slackens at the feeling, gasping for air when Suguru hollows his cheeks to suck tightly. Satoru shoves him down further.

His body feels tight when Suguru motions a finger towards his hole, pausing to spit on his fingers beforehand. With two fingers stretching him open, Satoru pants and gasps. His thighs twitch, hips rolling upward into Suguru’s mouth like it was a cunt.

Your face flashes in Satoru’s mind and it makes his insides careen. Brain like pulped fruit. He opens his eyes to see Suguru’s, narrowed and golden and taunting. It’s similar to the way you look at him, sometimes.

The fist in Suguru’s hair tightens now, knuckles white. Satoru grunts brutishly, overwhelmed by the stimulation in his hole in tandem with Suguru’s tongue pressing on the underside of his cock.

“Fuck, gonna cum–”

Suguru moans, jaw aching only slightly. Satoru could feel his dick inside Suguru’s mouth, heat building up until he spills onto the boy’s tongue. His head falls back. Breathing like he’d just run a marathon.

“You need a better appetite. Shit tastes like battery acid.”

“Doesn’t all cum taste like that?” Satoru frowns. His hand is still in Suguru’s hair.

“You tell me.” Suguru kisses him, licking the inside of Satoru’s molars. His lips move against Satoru’s mouth slowly, listless so he can take himself. When he pulls away, Satoru wipes the slick off his mouth, plump and bitten.

“You’re exaggerating.”

May, 2009

The sky is oddly grey this afternoon despite the pleasant morning. Yamanashi prefecture is as beautiful as ever with cherry blossoms blooming, but as you approach the cursed site, you continue to feel a chill down your spine.

It’s your first real mission. One that Yaga had at least approved you for after you had nailed your physical assessments, able to imbue enough cursed energy into a katana to swing around without slicing yourself. Still, you were meant to act as backup for Suguru, which Satoru hated.

“Why don’t we just both go with her?” he had wailed to Yaga days before, to which Yaga grunted in dismissal.

“You have a solo mission.”

“But–”

“That’ll be the end of it, Satoru.”

Admittedly, you do wish he was here. Suguru is a comforting presence, though, calmer in demeanor but much less talkative than what you’re used to. You walk with him through overgrown grass and lengthy vines.

“What kind of curse are we supposed to find?” you question out loud.

Suguru shrugs. “It’s difficult to tell exactly, but I’m assuming the cursed spirits roaming around here will be, er, women-shaped? Maybe. It should be Grade 2 at most."

“What do you mean, women? What happened here?”

“You don’t know? This place is super haunted.”

“So we’re ghost-hunting.”

“Ghost exorcising,” Suguru grins. “There used to be gold mines here in the 16th century owned by the Takeda Clan. They also ran brothels for the miners. After the Battle of Nagashino, the clan had to give up the land, but not before they killed all the prostitutes to keep them from spreading information about the gold mines.”

“H-how did they kill them?”

“The miners had the women dance at a farewell party, then they hacked the vines that kept up the bridge they were on. They fell into the waterfall.”

“That’s horrible,” you frown. Foreboding swells in your chest.

You can’t sense any cursed energy around you other than Suguru’s. You’re too busy ruminating to watch your step, accidentally tripping over a thick root. You fall forward into Suguru’s arms.

“You okay?” he croons. His face is inches from yours and you forget how to breathe.

“Y-yes. Sorry.” As you untangle yourself from him, your body jolts. You gasp when you hear the hint of a wretched, bloodcurdling scream in the far distance that makes your blood run cold. It isn’t very loud, but it almost sounds muffled, like someone was screaming from another room.

“What? What is it?”

“Did you not hear that?” you whisper.

Suguru frowns at you in confusion, his expression seemingly genuine. You blink, trying to shake off the horrible feeling in your body.

“I think I just heard something. It sounded like a scream.”

Suguru waits, prompting you to elaborate. The forest seems darker now despite it being midday, the curl of the trees billowing in a way that feels uncanny. A girl-shaped forest.

“Maybe we should split up.”

“Absolutely not,” Suguru protests, his mouth set in a firm line. You hold his hand in yours, stroking it gently with your thumb.

“Suguru, you can’t expect to protect me the entire time. I need to learn how to handle things on my own–”

An inhuman gurgle rumbles from behind you. The curse looks similar to a reptile, yet human-like with webbed hands and sharp incisors slick with algae. The stench of mud is apparent in the air now. It drools green sludge before it bows.

You stand in shock, unsure of what to do as you lock eyes with Suguru. Warily, you draw your sword, and the curse’s eyes roll back in agitation as it lets out another gurgle.

“Oh, shit–”

You dodge a projectile of slime, but it crawls towards you at a faster pace than you expect. A slice of your katana dismembers one of its arms, but it easily grows back. Within seconds, a giant curse rises from the ground and swallows it up, teeth mashing on gooey flesh in a way that makes you want to hurl. Suguru’s ringworm curse is dismissed once the riverbank is cleared.

“What was that about not needing me to protect you?” Suguru sneers.

“I still mean it,” you exasperate, heart hammering out of your chest. “You barely gave me time.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll let you have the next one, I swear.”

He smiles genuinely. Satoru must’ve gotten to him – he’s not nearly as neurotic as Satoru in that way, but he wouldn’t be able to stand it if you got hurt. It was less of a possessiveness thing and more of a selflessness thing. Suguru had always been the one to be reliable. He was also more perceptive than Satoru in the way that he could practically feel the tightness of the leash he held on you.

If you were going to be something in the Jujutsu world, you wouldn’t be held back. Suguru thought you could be something ever since he saw you.

You continue to walk with him, knuckles brushing as the air turns thick. Suguru thinks that maybe you’re sulking in his periphery, so he pokes your cheek.

“Yes?”

“You’re awfully quiet.”

“Just thinking,” you mutter.

The katana feels heavy on your back. You had never thought of yourself as a particularly strong person, growing up to be obedient. A maid’s daughter. Hands a little rough from housework and the dirt of the Earth when you were wild, once.

“Let me walk around in that little brain of yours,” Suguru murmurs, always charming.

You pause, swallowing. You realize you have never spoken your insecurities out loud. When you were on the brink of it, it would always be during petty arguments with Satoru, who had a way of shutting you down dismissively. He was always a bit of a control freak, even with you.

“Do you think I’m weak?” Your voice sounds almost frail.

“Of course not. I think you’re very talented, actually,” Suguru says. “Satoru and I– we just care a lot.”

“I’m not sure if talented would be the word. It’s not like he thinks so, either.”

“He does. He just doesn’t know how to express his feelings.”

There seems to be something lingering in his tone that gnaws at you. The way he sighs. You decide not to pry, attempting to steer the conversation away from Satoru altogether.

You hear a wail again. Something in the shape of a girlish scream but only the echo of it. Suguru gives you that confused look at him and you aren’t sure if he’s just messing with you at this point. He touches your hand again and the motion makes you wince.

“What’s wrong?” He looks genuinely worried now as he looks at you, holding a hand to your jaw. That alone is mildly unnerving for some reason, even though you think that in any other environment, you’d welcome it. You place your hand over his palm.

“Do you really not hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“That woman screaming!” you hiss.

“Are you sure it isn’t some wild animal?”

You blink at him blankly.

“You don’t hear it.”

When he shakes his head, you hear it again. You begin to walk towards the source of it while Suguru stalks behind you, but you stop him.

“Maybe I should handle this.”

He grimaces, clearly unhappy. You raise your brows, challenging him. Suguru wants to hold you back but he knows he shouldn’t.

“Hey, another fucking– river monster could show up, and you’d be able to handle it. Maybe this is something that only I can see or hear. We’ll be too conspicuous with both of our cursed energy.”

He says your name with a hint of desperation and discipline, but you hold your gaze firmly.

“Okay,” Suguru sighs. “But if anything goes wrong, just yell for me, okay?”

You nod.

The tall grass tickles your legs as you move, which makes you thankful you decided to wear trousers instead of your usual skirt for the mission. Your hand grips the strap of your sword bag with anxiety. As you get closer, it’s as if the air is permeated with a smell that you can only describe as being in between sex and blood.

The scream you hear is louder now. You aren’t sure if it’s truly a hallucination, but it seems like the forest laughs back at you after. If you were a smarter person, perhaps you’d return to your partner. But you also assume that if you were to do that, you’d be a weaker person.

You walk over a wooden bridge that feels like it’s holding on by the barest thread. The creaking of the bridge beneath your weight adds to the unease that has settled in your gut. Every step forward feels like a gamble, a test of your bravery. The forest seems to close in around you, the trees whispering secrets you can't quite decipher.

A scream rips through the air and this time, against your better judgment, you follow it.

It’s punctuated with sobs and whimpers, getting louder and louder as you walk along the path. Cursed energy flickers in the shape of a girl. When you get closer, you see her.

A girl is sitting in a fetal position behind a tree, clutching her shoulder as she wails in agony. Her long black hair is matted and damp. She doesn’t seem to notice you yet, so you swiftly move to hide yourself between shrubbery to get a better look.

“P-p-please… help me…” she sobs. You choke up at the sight of her torn dress, hands and shoulder crimson with blood. She looks younger than you – no older than fifteen.

You grasp the strap of your sword bag tightly and cautiously as you walk towards her. Her eyes widen when she sees you. You aren’t sure if it’s a look of relief or fear.

“Hi there,” you say with a tremor in your voice. “What’s your name?”

“Akane,” the girl whimpers. Her face is pale with bruised lips.

“Akane. Are you lost? How did you get this injury?” You crouch down to meet her at eye level.

“Th-there was a man… I was trying to run away from him… but I’m in t-too much pain to keep going,” she breathes. “Please help me.”

You furrow your brows. You’re surprised that there was anyone in this forest besides those grotesque cursed spirits considering how abandoned and desolate the place was. The girl must’ve run far.

“Where are you from, Akane?”

“Tabayama.”

“That’s not too far from here,” you smile softly. “Let me heal you and my friend and I can get you back home, okay?”

You reach for her arm but she flinches and looks at you with unease.

“It’s okay,” you reassure her. “I’m a healer, see?”

Your cursed energy waxes and wanes within your palm like a luminous mist. You hover it over a superficial cut on your hand that you’d gotten from dealing with thorns earlier and the skin patches up like new. Akane watches in awe.

“I want to help you. Is it okay if I touch you?”

She nods her head apprehensively. You unwrap the saturated cloth from her shoulder, cringing at the sight of the gore and blood. You can’t quite envision the type of violence she’d just been through from the vagueness of her words, but you don’t want to make the poor girl explain in the midst of her trauma.

It’s more effort than what you’re used to – the wound is so deep that you fear that you’ll overexert yourself. You’d spent enough time in the lab with Shoko to improve your technique, but this time, it seems as if everything you’re doing isn’t enough. The skin on the girl’s shoulder is healing very slowly, and when you think that her condition is improving, another area of her body seems to bleed out.

“Maybe I should get my friend to help. He could take us to a hospital.”

“He?”

You look up to see Akane’s eyes grow cold. Almost lifeless, as if she’s looking through you. You hear the visceral sound of a limb breaking, the squelch of her organs. It seems as though her face is transforming right in front of your eyes, but it feels like an illusion – the way her skin looks decayed, the way her teeth grow sharper.

Akane – or what was Akane – cackles cruelly. Her cursed energy is overwhelming now, suffocating you. There’s a warbled cry that falls from her mouth.

“I’ll kill him.”

This is not a fucking Grade 2 curse.

You immediately get to your feet and swing your katana, but the curse blocks your attack easily. She’s also growing exponentially, no longer the size of a teenage girl and more like the river monster you’d seen earlier. She grabs you by the ankle, tripping you. A hack to the wrist with your katana makes the creature scream even more. You watch in horror as thick, black blood seeps out.

You yell Suguru’s name at the top of your lungs.

You see the Rainbow Dragon first, flying through the forest around you and the curse, but the nails on her other hand are strong enough to slice through the dragon’s hide. When you turn to lock eyes with Suguru, the curse lets out something in between a sob and a scream, shrill in your ears.

It seems as though she forgets you entirely, running head-first towards Suguru.

“I’ll… kill…. youuuuuuu!”

“No!” you screech, pulling her backward by the leg with all the strength you can muster. You slash the curse’s skin with your katana, making her wail, but she pins you down in retaliation with cuts to your arm from its sharp nails.

You hiss at the pain. You notice that her hair has transformed into its own entity, tentacle-like and razor-sharp as it slices through one of Suguru’s hound-like curses. She directs her attention back at him and aims for his neck, but you hold down a bloody hand onto her back as your hand pulls one of her sharp hairs back.

You cry out at the wound it makes in your hand, but your other stays pressed to the slimy flesh of her body. Your cursed energy ignites something unfamiliar in your body, something painful, but you imbue it into your touch with all you have.

She’s screaming. Or maybe you are. You can’t tell anymore – your head is dulling from expending more cursed energy than you ever have. It’s all dissonant to you. A horrific cacophony. You feel blood drip from your nose.

The curse’s flesh is rotting. As if the wounds she had when she appeared as a human were only rapidly progressing into decay, cells rupturing, body degenerating the harder you push.

It’s like she turns to mush. The corpse of the curse is barely recognizable anymore, just a puddle of chunky purplish-black blood.

You breathe heavily, looking up to see Suguru staring at you in shock. You try to give him a weak smile, but you don’t feel anything other than sick. Or maybe it’s numbness, at least for a few seconds as the forest is quiet again.

You double over and vomit. Your vision blacks out.

As a surprise to no one, Gojo Satoru is fucking livid.

He’s about to open his mouth but stops himself when Suguru gives him a look of disdain. There’s no one to yell at, except maybe Yaga, because why the fuck would he put you on a mission that could potentially involve a Special Grade?

“She’s fine,” Suguru affirms.

Satoru merely exhales through his nostrils, curling his hands into fists as he slumps down on the bench next to Suguru. He can’t help but envision your corpse, his brain reeling a horrific supercut of all the ways you could’ve been disfigured, maimed, bruised. Changed.

He realizes that the protectiveness over you he feels has turned into something ugly now that he knows you’re in the infirmary, something akin to fear, which is foreign to him.

It sinks into him like teeth down to the marrow, parasitic. He thinks of a faceless curse that he wants to tear apart with his bare hands. Satoru had tried to get over the desire to keep you in a cage, to keep you so unbearably close to him out of his own selfishness, but the feeling came back. He doesn’t know where to keep it other than lodged in his chest like a bullet.

“Did you absorb it, Suguru? Because I might need you to summon it later so I can get my fucking hands on it myself,” Satoru says, his voice low and seething through gritted teeth.

“No,” Suguru sighs.

Satord nods dumbly. Silence ensues.

“She killed it herself.”

You have dreams while you’re passed out. The curse you killed transforms its face from its teenage girl form and into others. You see Shoko, Suguru, Satoru. Everyone you’ve ever known. And when the skin of its face starts to rot the same way it did when you used your technique on it, you end up staring at yourself.

When you wake, it’s slow. The fluorescents in the infirmary don’t help. From outside of the room, you can hear hushed voices.

When you attempt to lift your body off the bed, you see Shoko sleeping in a chair next to you. Your bones ache, your skin stinging with the ghost of a wound. The cut on your palm from being slashed by the curse is a scar now.

You drop your head again, squeezing your eyes shut in an attempt to rest more. It’s too fucking bright in this room. Your breathing stills when you hear the door creak open.

“For fuck’s sake,” a voice bristles.

You hear another whispering Shoko’s name. Waking her, you assume.

“How is she doing?”

“She’s okay,” Shoko yawns. “Just sleeping. Her wounds were kind of deep, but I took care of it.”

A hand caresses your jaw gently, fingers stroking through your scalp. Your eyes blink open slowly to see Satoru grimacing above you. From the way the overhead light illuminates the back of his head, you think he almost looks like an angel. A makeshift halo shining on moonlit hair.

You notice the way he holds his fist tightly and the iciness of his gaze. It’s a fraction of rage, which makes you feel nauseous again. You’d seen that look on his face before, during the night of Shoko’s party. You wonder now, vaguely, what he looks like when he kills.

“Hey,” you mumble weakly.

“Hey,” he scoffs. “Wanna tell me what the fuck happened?”

“Satoru, let her be–”

“It’s okay,” you interrupt. You rise, wincing at the soreness of your muscles. “Um. I… killed the curse.”

“So I’ve been told,” Satoru deadpans. His jaw is tense, but his eyes soften. He looks up, flickering his gaze between Shoko and Suguru.

Shoko clears her throat. “She used her technique. The healing part of it is based on cell regeneration. Apparently, it can also be used… the opposite way. It must've been activated by adrenaline, and then it was too much. Passed out from exhaustion.”

“How is that possible?”

“Well, our technique is like a muscle, right? And she didn’t use hers very rigorously until now, so…”

“Right,” Satoru sighs, his voice clipped.

“I need a smoke,” Shoko rasps. “Do you need anything, baby?”

You smile weakly, shaking your head.

You can’t help but feel guilt snaking its way into your body. Even though you had exorcised a curse, your first actual achievement in Jujutsu sorcery, the bloodshed you’d experienced feels fruitless. You don’t feel very powerful at all, only monstrous.

It’s difficult to gauge what Satoru is thinking. He’s clearly upset about the fact that you got hurt, but you wonder if there’s more. If he resents you pulling a stunt like that and nearly killing yourself in the process—because what would you be if not his? Are you still his with bloodstained hands? Would he like you better now that you could prove to be strong?

It didn’t matter. He would always be stronger.

You hate the tension in the air. You can’t bear it. Maybe they’ll disperse once you get on your feet. There wasn’t anything left to do with your treatment since Shoko had tired herself with your wounds.

When you swing a leg over the cot and attempt to sit up straight, an invisible wall stops you. You glare at Satoru holding his hand out, palm outstretched inches away from your chest.

“No,” he snaps.

“Don’t do that,” you grumble. “I’m fine.”

He laughs but there’s no amusement in his tone. His eyes are cold again. Pools of ice.

“Right. You’re in fucking pristine shape.”

“Satoru,” Suguru warns.

“I– I can walk–”

“No,” Satoru repeats. “You’re hurt. Stop it.”

You look between Satoru’s hard gaze and Suguru’s frown and roll your eyes. You’re so tired, and overwhelmed with pain that transcends the physical kind. You can’t even put a name to it, the amount of emotions spilling out of you as you look at the two of them with mild desperation. You want to sleep for another twelve hours.

Irritation flares behind your face. You aren’t sure if you want to scream or cry for catharsis, but you stay quiet, trembling.

“I want to be in my bed,” you mutter.

Satoru lets out a breath as if he’s been holding it for a while. Gently, he touches the nape of your neck, Infinity down. Laces his fingers in your hair in a sort of compromise. He moves his arm underneath your back with the other under your knees and lifts you, kicking off the blankets.

You curl into him, head on his chest. It made it hard for Satoru to breathe, for some reason, like something was stealing the air from his lungs. He nods to Suguru as a voiceless confirmation, watching his cursed energy flare. I’ll take it from here.

When he gets you into your room, Satoru releases you, placing you gingerly on the floor. Part of him wants to shake you by the shoulders, have you slap him across the face for reasons unknown to him. Something, anything other than the despondence of your limp figure. He can’t stand it.

“Satoru,” you whisper. “I’m sorr–”

“Don’t,” he strains. “Do you even know why you’re apologizing? Or is it just second nature to you?”

You say nothing.

He strips off your uniform, torn and battered. Still reeking of copper blood, the stench all too familiar, but not on you.

“I’m sorry for being mean. I was just worried,” he says. “I’m… proud of you.”

“Proud?” You look at him, dazed, as if this is the last thing you expect him to say.

He nods curtly, a sad smile on his face. “I always knew you had it in you.”

He picks you up again despite your futile protest, walking you to the attached bathroom. After turning on the faucet, he sits next to you, hand stroking your thigh gently in silence. He doesn’t look at you. He’s not sure if he can.

“C’mon. Up.” He taps your thigh once.

You’re still dizzy as you enter the bath, sighing at the warmth of the water. As you sink into the bath, a sense of relief washes over you, momentarily easing the tension in your body. A much-needed respite.

You feel Satoru trail his fingers around your collarbone, rising to feel your pulse. The rhythm seems to calm him as he soothes his palm over your shoulders and back. His touch is less urgent than it usually is.

He squeezes shampoo in your hair and threads his fingers through it, scratching your scalp gently, untangling the mess of you. He saturates a washcloth with soap, rubbing small circles over your limbs, lifting you like you’re a doll. It was funny—he had never had to take care of anyone other than himself before, but at the moment, he’s indulged in the small hums of pleasure you make, reveling in your comfort. Your trust.

He likes taking care of you. It makes him feel like he has a sense of control. He doesn’t want to indulge too far into it, knowing it’ll smolder a nasty part of him in some way. But the steam of the hot water makes his cheeks ruddy, and when you open your eyes at the feeling of his hand on your jaw, he can’t help but want to keep you.

Satoru turns your face toward him, cupping your chin as he leans in to kiss you. Your mouth opens like a flower blooming, ready for him like always. He tries not to be rough despite the moan you tease out of him. Your skin is soft after he bathes you. His hands know carnage, but they also know you.

You break apart, looking at each other for a few seconds before he kisses you again. He pecks your mouth, nose, and cheeks, leaving you to scrunch your nose by the end. Laughing, he rinses your hair.

“Feel better?” he asks lightly. You nod.

“C’mon, baby. You’re gonna get all pruney in there.”

You’re perfectly capable of drying yourself off and putting on clothes, but Satoru seems eager to do it for you, so you stay limp in his arms. He’s being oddly affectionate as he babies you, which he never does. It’s usually the other way around.

With his hands on your waist, a dangerous thought flits through Satoru’s mind, but it dissipates when he fixes your hair to see you fresh-faced. You look young, innocent. Untouched by violence like he had known you before.

He takes you to the bed, where, despite the size of it, he manages to slot his body next to yours so he can curl into you. Head on your chest to listen to the murmur of your heartbeat.

You stay like this for a while, listening to each others’ breaths. You’re on the brink of sleep when you think you feel tears on your chest. Dampness on your cotton shirt, but only a little. Satoru exhales heavily, squeezing the meat of your side. You’re feeling a little too warm from the proximity but don’t have the heart to untangle yourself. You close your eyes.

“I love you.”

You aren’t sure if it’s a whisper in your dreams or not.

June, 2002

You both had matching bruises. Green and yellowish like snot.

The summer was changing you and Satoru in a way that held gravity. Satoru’s body was growing more and more, handsome like the beautiful child he’d been when you first met him, and you were a purgatory. Something girlish. Something ghostly.

Your mother had reprimanded you last week for coming back with a bloody knee, scolding you for rough play. The expiration on your youth seemed to be ticking from the way she chastised you about your shared misbehavior with Satoru – you were meant to grow into something polite and womanly.

Satoru had scoffed at the notion when you told him. He liked that you weren’t obsequious to him like everyone else in his life who treated him like a little prince.

Unfortunately, you’d pave the road of your abjection all by yourself later on.

He still thought of you as the only person who understood him. He was your first friend, your only friend for a while, and you were his. You’d count stars with him. Catch fireflies and make wishes on them. Wear each other’s clothes before his growth spurt.

You’d clung to each other for years—it was difficult to tell which one of you was the parasite. Despite this, sometimes you think Satoru hates you. Sometimes he makes you cry, especially with how apathetic he can be. You blame his stoicism on his upbringing, but there are times that you feel like an afterthought, only exacerbated as he grows older and into something of worth.

At age twelve, it’s difficult for you to believe that you could be anything similar.

Your young ferocity gets minimized to meekness at school. There’s hair-pulling, harder than Satoru’s ever done to you. Stolen lunches. Spitballs to your back. Your face kissing pavement.

“What happened to you?” Satoru asks, narrowing his eyes at the sight of your split lip.

“I fell.”

He’s forceful when he drags you to him. He’s too tall for his age, towering over you with cold blue eyes staring down at you. You flinch when he touches your cheek with his hand.

“You’re lying,” he frowns.

“It’s fine,” you mumble.

He doesn’t pry after that, but he does force you to clean the cut with hydrogen peroxide, which is ironic considering how little he cares about his own cuts and bruises from his private training.

On the playground the next day, you’re targeted again, reaching desperately for your backpack that’s stolen straight from your hands. A kick to the shins has you scraping your palms when you try to ground yourself. Your hands sting as they bleed. You gasp when you feel another kick to the stomach, a cruel round of laughs taunting you.

But then, you hear them gasp. The sound of knuckles hitting bone.

“Touch her again and I’ll fucking kill you.”

Satoru lifts you up by the hand and holds you by the shoulders. He picks the debris out of your hair.

“C’mon, let’s go home,” he sighs. He ignores the tears on your cheeks. He’ll wipe them away later along with the dried blood in your palms.

You’ll shower in his bathroom, mind blank under the hot water. He’ll see your silhouette through the peek in the door, and his stomach will lurch in a new way. He won’t be able to look at you for a week after.

June, 2009

He comes to you at night a little drunk. You’re surprised Satoru didn’t warp this time – you’re used to seeing him in the blink of an eye right before you go to sleep just because he doesn’t want to sleep in his own room. Sleep is hardly a thing for him anyway – his insomnia has gotten a bit worse over the years, so he prefers to play on his Nintendo DS quietly as he strokes your hair.

“You actually knocked?”

He shrugs as he moves past you to flop his long body onto your twin bed. You look at him in question. He doesn’t answer, only gesturing for you.

“Come over here,” he slurs.

“Are you drunk?”

“Not–” he hiccups, “at all.”

“Satoru,” you berate.

“Okay, maybe I went a little crazy with the Dirty Shirleys. Needed a drink after the stupid fucking mission Yaga sent us on.”

“You shouldn’t be drinking this much. It’s a weekday.”

He mocks you and settles a hand over your waist. You notice the calluses on his hands, ironic considering he can never let anything touch him. But you can.

He sits you on his lap, rubbing your shoulders carefully. “How’s your night been?”

“Shoko made me watch Audition,” you frown.

“Oh. I love that one.”

“Of course you do,” you sigh, “Nothing scares you.”

You aren’t wrong. After assassination attempts and countless wretched curses thrown Satoru’s way, nothing could make him flinch anymore.

“You scare me,” he pouts, undressing himself. Always staking his claim on you in this way – he wouldn’t leave if you asked, and you know that you won’t.

“I highly doubt that.”

“You should yell at me more. It’s kind of a turn-on when you’re mad.”

You roll your eyes as you turn off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness if not for the light of the moon and the annoying brilliance of Satoru’s eyes. Even his hair seems to glow in the dark, head dipped in starlight.

As you lay on your side, you feel Satoru’s palm undulating your bare thigh, tickling you under the hem of your t-shirt. He breathes in the scent of your neck.

“You have goosebumps,” he mumbles against your hair. “Gonna get nightmares from the movie?”

“No.”

“I’ll protect you,” he giggles boyishly, body overheating with want.

He sucks on your neck, hand parting the plushness of your thighs. You keen at the feeling of his teeth and tongue, gasping at his large fingers sliding your panties to the side to prod your cunt.

“This is all I could think about today.”

“Yeah?” you whisper.

“Yeah,” he says, his voice rough. “Kept thinking about all those sounds you make. Kept thinking about your face.”

“You shouldn’t—ah—let yourself get so distracted on your missions.”

He laughs. “Whatever. Killed all those fuckers in less than ten minutes anyway.”

Satoru keeps you pressed to his chest, his other hand grasping your breast. You feel his dick hardening behind you as he plays with your cunt, fingers knuckle-deep inside you. It didn’t take him long to find your spot the way he had you memorized. Your eyes shut tightly as you moan. Stars knock around your head.

He turns your face toward his and licks at the seam of your lips, tongue roughly licking the inside of your mouth. Your body tingles at the sound of his groans. He holds you by the chin, hand slipping around your throat to hold you in place so he can take in every detail of your face.

You flush under his gaze, how his blown-out pupils outweighed the ocean blue. His pink mouth is parted and breathing out, zephyrs of maraschino cherry tickling your face.

You cry out when he pins you down, sinks his cock into your wetness. A wounded sound. It makes him shiver, makes him think about you on that dingy cot a month ago in the infirmary. Satoru was about ready to avenge you in any way he could, back then, even when you weren’t even half-dead. He’d reshape mountains. Drown the whole city of Tokyo with his bare hands.

In the way he holds you with bruising force, rutting into you like a devoted dog, he decides that he will be the only person to hurt you. The only one who should, knowing that even with his regrets and jagged ways of caring, no one else should lay a finger on you except him. He’d never hurt you in a violent way, unless his passion had counted. If devouring you counted, which it probably did, he would be content with his selfishness if it meant you were safe.

He needed to learn how to stop being so goddamn obsessive. He’d work on it later, maybe. He’d try not to speak curses into existence from the way he felt about you.

At the moment, he wants to make this good for you. Something like love.

“Made for me,” he whispers. “You were fucking made for me.”

“Yes,” you gasp.

He splits you open, spearing into your gut as he mumbles praises lowly into your ear. Your cunt pulses at the sound of his voice. He thrusts into you harshly, making blood rush to your head.

“You make me feel insane,” he grunts. “Used to think about you like this in high school. You were so fucking stubborn, refusing to give me attention.”

“You were a brat,” you flush. “Still are.”

“Your brat.”

“Mine,” you hum.

He groans at that. He’s so deep in you, drowning in syrupy velvet. He liked it when your body made him feel like this, like he was levitating. He wasn’t Gojo with you, always Satoru, always just a boy. He’d be content in this infinite spiral, swapping spit in between tongues and fucking into you until you cried. Your body is sacred. You made him forget himself when he needed to.

You like when he carves you out like this, your cunt a shrine for him at this point. You moan at the loss of him, watching through glassy eyes as he stumbles, fixing your body in between his knees.

“Wanna see my pretty girl’s face,” he groans. He’s annoyingly rough when he enters again, but you love it. He says your name like it’s a prayer.

Your head buzzes as he thrusts into you faster this time. His hair sticks to his face, tickling your cheek as he bites into your neck. Midnight vignettes blur your vision.

“Wish you’d let me have you earlier,” he pants.

“Fucking me for the past year wasn’t enough?”

He shakes his head. “Wish I lost it to you. I was thinking about you during it, too.”

“Satoru,” you whine.

He means it. He was already blunt as could be, but alcohol made him over-honest. He liked that his candor made you blush.

“Would you have let me fuck you?” he teases. “When we were fifteen?”

“No. You were even stupider then.”

“So mean to me,” he chuckles, rolling his hips more aggressively. He revels in watching you squirm. “I would’ve worshipped you.”

“No, you wouldn’t have,” you mumble, hiding your face in his chest. Nails cross-hatching the length of his back.

“I would’ve.” I will.

He kisses you open-mouthed like it’s a promise, pulling your hair in the process. The room was starting to get hot, that June humidity unforgiving, even at night. You’d have to open a window later. His body makes yours swelter, skin melting into skin like he’s trying to fuse the both of you into one thing. Like that Greek myth about two halves of a soul.

“Fuck, ‘m so close,” he whimpers. “You feel too good. Shit, I wanted to make you beg.”

“Sounds like you’re the one begging,” you exhale.

“Yeah,” he grunts. “Want you. You’re killing me. Fuck.”

He spills inside of you at the same time you cum, the heaviness of his low groans making your brain break. He’s still drunk, head swimming with every part of you. Above you, he sports that fallen angel look again, eyes gleaming with rapture. Prodigious as he was, he worships you instead, blessed with love bruises adorning his shoulder.

Satoru always liked to fuck you like it was the last day he’d ever have you. Tonight is no different.

He exhales at the juncture of your neck, soothed by your hands in his hair. He lifts his body up, kissing your collarbone before he descends to your belly. You tremble at the feeling of his hand cupping your cunt.

“Satoru, I can’t–”

“Please?” he pouts, his breath tickling your clit. “Wanna taste you. All mixed up with me.”

Heat rises to your face violently. “You’re disgusting.”

“You love it.”

“You made such a mess,” you grumble.

“I’ll clean it up,” he grins.

You let him. His sharp mouth never lets up, anyway.

“Wait! Sit on my face.”

“I can’t even feel my legs,” you pout.

He whines your name. “I had such a tough mission today, baby. You don’t think I deserve it?”

“Spoiled,” you mumble as you switch positions with him. Below you, he looks feral in the eyes, over-eager. Hungry like a wolf even after fucking you hard.

You gasp when he pulls you down, slotting your thighs on each side of his head while he starts to taste you. Licking up into your cunt, moaning at the taste of himself and the sweetness of you. He grips your ass, guiding your movements like the ebb and flow of a wave. You shake above him.

“Jesus.”

You feel him laugh, the vibrations tickling your clit.

“Annoying slut,” you call him. He seems to enjoy it, thinking of it as praise considering how loud he groans. It almost embarrasses you.

That familiar feeling twinges in your core again.

“Cum for me, baby,” he breathes. He latches his mouth on your clit and you think you might burst. Maybe crumble and fly away in the wind like a dandelion.

He continues to suck on you as you ride out your orgasm, your thighs trembling. When he gets up for air, his eyes are blown out wide, drunken smile on his face as if he’s peaking. Chemical reactions in his blood.

“So good for me,” he grins, kissing you on the mouth. Your heart flutters.

His gaze is still searing into you. Looking at him hurts, sometimes.

Satoru presses into you, curling into your neck again. His heartbeat reverberates throughout the room. Tenderness floods the both of you, bodies slotted together like he wants to make a nest out of you.

You’re exhausted with heavy lids. Satoru strokes your skin until you fall asleep, careful fingers soothing the places his mouth had been. Divine wounds. Like a devotional dog with teeth too sharp and love larger than his body, Satoru will be the only one to hurt you.

#gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x you #geto suguru x you #geto x you #satosugu smut #gojo x geto

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sonicblueartist · 8 months

Text

Bullfrog x h!reader

Summery; Bullfrog is injured and we need to take care of him~

A/N: I had to rewrite half of this as it didn't f##king saved AHHHH

Warnings: HURT, HURT, HURT FROG, lots of blood, injury, wound, throwing up, angst.

Masterlist

Word Count: 3.7k

Btw does anyone want to be in the tag list?

Don't Leave

While you had one hand in your pocket and searched for your keys in a rush, you leaned forward slightly, supporting Bullfrog by his leg to prevent him from falling off your back with your other hand. Even though Bullfrog's arms were wrapped around your neck, something told you that he didn't have the strength to hold himself back on his own. You felt him wince in pain against your back as you struggled to find your keys to unlock your door. Damn hands, I order you to stop shaking immediately! We have an emergency here! We have to help Bullfrog! There was a panicked war inside your head.

You scowled and finally pulled your keys out of your pocket. Trying to see right through your shaking hand and forcing yourself to find the right key for your door. "Come on, come on." You almost dropped the keys in your panic. You quickly grabbed the right key and inserted it into the keyhole, pushing the door open with your side.

Your grip tightened on the injured assassin and you dashed in, not even bothering to close the door, you quickly rushed into the living room and gently laid him down on the couch. He hissed in pain at the sudden change of position.

You gently caressed his cheek with your shaking hand, “How are you holding up?” You asked hesitantly, trying not to look too hard at the blood on his side that covered most of his clothing. He held your hand on his cheek.

He was sweating and his breathing was hasty and rigid. His expression was sour until you questioned him. He quickly changed his expression to something softer and opened his eyes to look at you. He forced a smile and gave a shaky thumbs up, lying through his teeth... or maybe he was just sassing. You couldn't understand anymore due to your panic. He sucked a breath and choked out a weak answer, "Bien. Just peachy."

You cringe at his answer. "R-Right. S-Stupid question. Sorry." You stammered, "Try to relax. I... uh... I definitely shouldn't call help or an ambulance so-- I'LL TRY TO STOP THE BLEEDING! You just lie there and don't move too much." He didn't look like he was in any mood to get up or move anyway. He seemed like he wanted to say something about what you said but you didn't let him, "Please don't waste your breath." He looked offended but without wasting any more time, you left the room and entered the bathroom.

There must be a first aid kit around here! You started searching by opening almost every cabinet, but you couldn't find it. Instead of searching further, you thought quickly. You had no time to waste. You start looking for something useful that suits your situation. You need to apply pressure to the wound to stop the bleeding, right? You grabbed as many towels as you could and quickly went back inside.

You knelt down next to the couch and paused for a moment. Wait, I need to press the wound, but do I need to take off his clothes first or is that okay? God, what if it gets infected? Or what if he already caught it? What do I do then? No, no. Don't think like that. Don't think the worse. I'll have to clean the wound anyway, so I guess I should take off his clothes. God, he's not going to like this at all. Maybe he even needs stitches!! AHH, I HOPE HE DON'T NEED SOMETHING LIKE THAT. YOU DON'T KNOW HOW TO STITCH SKIN! Okay, okay, calm down. You quickly pushed your thoughts aside and decided to keep pressing on the wound for now. At least you were going to keep doing this until the bleeding stopped. What if the bleeding doesn't stop? You brushed aside your concerns and quickly pressed the wound with one of the towels you brought. Pressure the wound as best as you can. Bullfrog groaned in pain and you quickly offered an apology, pleadingly. You saw him wince slightly from the pain, his chest rising up and down rapidly. He was out of breath. How much blood did he lose? Would he live? You tried to brush off your worries once again. He will be fine. Just focus on stopping the damn bleeding! You reassured yourself. You were scared. You felt like you were going to puke. You need to be there for him in his weak moments. While he trusted you to help him, you were afraid of letting him down and losing him. He believed in you and you are slowly letting him down to the point of letting him die in your arms because you are a useless being and incapable of anything— He would bleed to death in your arms. You guessed this wasn't an honorable death for him at all. God, what am I thinking?

"Mon amour... I'll be fine, worry not." You felt his hand on your shoulder, gently nudging you and making you snap out of your panicked fears. You blinked your teary eyes to look at him, he smiled at you warmly, it wasn't fading or forced like before, his honey colored eyes gently reassuring your trembling body.

You nodded slowly, not having the strength to respond without your voice breaking like glass or you would have started to sob loudly. You can't let that happen right now. You continued, not letting your thoughts get the best of you. He would be fine. He said so himself. He will be fine. And you won't let him go.

After using a few towels and turning them as red as his clothes, you paused with a realization, your eyes widening. It doesn't stop bleeding. It's been ten minutes. "I need stitches..." Bullfrog didn't even answer that. It seemed like he was having trouble keeping his eyes open, like he couldn't focus on you. He looked so weak, which made you panic even more. You never saw him like this before.

You quickly stood up and entered the bathroom. Now you definitely had to find that kit. You were hoping there might be something inside that could help you. You searched everywhere and finally found it on the cabinet. You grabbed it and quickly rushed back inside. You opened it and took a look inside, rummaging through it pushing away things that were of no use to you, "No, no, there's nothing, damn it!" There was nothing that could help you with stitches. What were you going to do now? You definitely couldn't use a regular thread and needle, right?

You gripped your face, aghhh!!! It seemed like you had no other choice. You were just at the point where you are about to broke down and run to your room and get the needle, but you jumped in dread when you felt a hand on your shoulder. You were unfocused and breathing rapidly, you turned your head to look at who was behind you as you tugged at your clothes. It's a woman looked like she is in her thirties. She is one of your neighbors, she lives in the flat next door to you. How she got in wasn't even a concern to you anymore. Your tears were flowing down your cheeks like a waterfall as she looked at you with sympathy. You had nothing left to do. You didn't know what to do. You choked out, sniffing, "P-Please help." You sobbed. You needed help. He needed help.

She gently smiled at you and nodded. She didn't need an explanation, she uttered calmly, “Of course. I will do my best." She helped you up and told you what she needed, and you nodded quickly. While you spent the longest hours of your life helping her, everything seemed so blurry. As if the whole day wasn't a rushed fog of pain. You found yourself staring at your reflection for a while. Your face was as white as chalk. You were still slightly shaking and covered in blood. His blood. By the time you two were done, you couldn't even sit down to rest and rushed here to vomit, the adrenaline giving way to exhaustion. You were feeling a little dizzy. But knowing that he is okay now gave you some comfort. You sighed and walked out of the bathroom, shivering. After letting it all out, you were starting to feel at least a little bit like yourself.

You replayed in your head how sorry you were. You betrayed his trust by involving someone else. While he was waiting for you, you asked someone else for help. You let out a shaky breath as you walked back to the living room. You noticed it was empty and there was no sign of him bleeding out minutes ago. You blinked. Oh, right. He was resting in your room. And while you were busy in the bathroom, she cleaned around even though she had nothing to do with any of this. And yes, you felt guilty about that too. You should been the one to clean up your mess in your house. Nevertheless, you were grateful for her help.

“Oh, good you are back.” She looked like she was about to ask how you were but stopped herself. You glance at her tiredly and carelessly sat down on the couch.

“I was going to let you know that I finished cleaning. I hope you're okay with that." When you continued to stare blankly, she cleared her throat, "I figured you wouldn't have the energy to do that... And blood is hard to clean, trust me. I didn't mind so don't worry. I'm used to cleaning up, especially blood stains as a nurse. And you didn't look like you were in the mood to clean right now either, so I didn't want you to bother. And if cleaning up later they'd be dried out and that wouldn't be nice." She chuckled to herself, "Heh, I actually came here to ask you if you had milk, but I'm glad I did. By the way, I still need milk so... You don't mind if I get some milk, right?"

You blinked slowly. Oh my god, I guess you couldn't be luckier. Your next door neighbor was a nurse. Of course, you shouldn't be surprised after everything she's accomplished. You were so thankful to anyone up there listening to you right now. You didn't know what you would have done if she hadn't come. You may have used all the luck of your life right here and now.

“Uh…” she had mentioned so many things, your tired mind couldn't acknowledge all of it at the same time. If she's this normal about it, she probably does this a lot. But this was not normal for you at all and you were obviously scared out of your skin and it would probably follow you for the rest of your life. You've never encountered this much blood before. You were still having trouble getting your thoughts in order. “Y-yeah… of course. Ahh… Take whatever you want…”

She smiled at you, "Alright, if you need anything else. You know where to find me—"

"Thank you."

She stopped and glanced at you. She looked surprised. You sniffed and rubbed your face. "I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't come."

"Hey, don't mention it. It's my job. But I'm getting that milk."

You breath out a tired laugh, "Yes, of course, please take it. Count it as a token of gratitude."

She nodded as a thanks and entered the kitchen. She looked surprised when she came back to see you still sitting and staring at the ground as if someone had died. She thought maybe you could at least go and see how he was doing now, but it seemed like there was something else holding you back. Maybe you were afraid that you wouldn't be able to look at his face the same way again after what you saw. She understand what you feel.

She hummed and glanced back the room where he is resting. Of course, she had no idea what you two were going through, and she should keep her nose out of things like that. After all, he was the one who was supposed to comfort you and talk to you about this. “Ah…thank you for the milk.” But maybe a little assurance wouldn't hurt. You looked pale. You looked a lot worse when she was doing stitching inside, but at least you looked better now compared to that moment. She thanked you once again, showing the milk carton in her hand. You nodded slowly at this.

Before she turned to the door to leave the house, she pointed to your clothes, “A piece of advice from me to you. Take a hot shower and throw your clothes in the trash. There is nothing left of them that will benefit you. Also… don't worry. Your friend's condition is excellent. He just needs some good rest. He will live. His wound is not very deep." She may have told a little lie to make you feel a bit better. Fortunately, none of his vital organs were damaged. She didn't question how he got such a deep wound.

You looked away from the ground and turned your gaze at her and heaved a sigh. You mustered a little smile and nodded slightly, “Thank you.”

She paused before walking out the door, you just noticed the garbage bag in her hand. You felt dizzy when you noticed the blood stains visible translucently inside. “Oh, by the way, I almost forgot. I'll come back tomorrow to check on his stitching. See you by then!” She closed the door behind her with a soft wave and a happy hum.

Your eyes stayed on the door for a while, after a few deep breaths, you looked at your clothes and grimaced. There was no point in sitting there all night. You sighed. Yes… a bath is a nice idea.

You stood up and glanced towards the door of your room. Your clothes were there. But for now, you were too tired to bother going inside to get new ones. You didn't want to go into your room. You don't feel ready to see him yet. You could decide later what to do after your bath.

You went into the bathroom, took off your clothes and threw them in a trash can. You had to admit that her conversation helped you come to your senses a bit more. You took a deep breath and stepped into the bath. You turned on the hot water and waited for it to reach the perfect temperature. You sighed and got under the hot water. You took a deep breath as your body contacted the hot water. This felt good. It helped a lot in relaxing your muscles and you finally breathed a sigh of relief.

You didn't know how long you stayed under it, but after you came back to your senses, you quickly washed off all the blood from your body and hair and left the bath. You reached for your robe, pulled it on, and tied the belt around your waist. You sigh, pulling your hood over your head and looking at your exhausted reflection in the foggy mirror one last time. You made sure there was no blood in sight before exiting the bathroom, you didn't want to be reminded of all this in the future.

You entered the kitchen and took out a glass of water to feed your thirsty body. Then, to fill your hungry stomach, you took out some frozen pizza from the freezer and threw it in the microwave to warm it up. While you waited for it to cook, you sat on one of the nearby chairs and watched the soft light coming from it as it did its thing. The sky was already dark and the only light illuminating the room was the light from the microwave since no lights were turned on in your home at the moment. As you thought about what happened today, you listened to the soft hum coming from it. All you knew was that you didn't know anything. You found Bullfrog covered in blood on the stairs of your building. And he didn't tell you anything either.

You dropped your bag in fear. When Bullfrog heard your gasp, he turned his head towards you, he could hardly stand on his shaking feet, he was trying to walk with support from the wall. When he noticed you, he shakily extended his hand towards you. You knew he was trying to come to you. His clothes were covered in blood, that's what made you even more panicked. He looked like he was gonna fall apart at that second. You quickly ran to him. He stumbled towards you, he grunted as he nearly falled, you immediately supported him by wrapping your arms around his body. He held on tightly to your clothes. He was breathing heavily. He didn't say anything, and he didn't need to. He leaned his head against you. The look he gave you told you everything, he needed you.

You frowned, your thoughts interrupted by the sound of the alarm signaling that the microwave had finished its job. You sighed and picked up your food. You sat at the table in silence as you slowly ate your food. You felt empty and a pain appeared in your chest. It had been so long since you had eaten alone. You were normally used to being alone but... that's until Bullfrog came into your life and made every minute of it exciting and fun.

After finishing your meal, you sighed and leaned back in your chair, shivering slightly from the cold. You needed your clothes or you were going to get sick. You let out a sigh and mustered up the courage to stand up and go back to your room.

You froze in front of the closed door. You swallowed and took a deep breath. Come on, he's not dead, calm down. He just sleeps inside. You reached for the doorknob and turned it. You walked in quietly and closed the door behind you. Your eyes avoided looking at your bed and you walked towards your wardrobe. You could see him out of the corner of your eye on your bed, just laying there. Luckily, you weren't facing him so you couldn't see much. Also, the room was too dark to make out much. The curtains were closed, making this room darker than the others. Also, even though he was wrapped in a blanket, he didn't have much clothes on and you didn't think he would want you to see him like that.

Technically, you are both half naked in this room. God, why would you even think of it like that? Did you always have to make it harder than it already is? Why do you have such a mind? You've made this way too weird. You groaned, cringing at yourself and rubbed your face.

"Are you going to act like this all night?" You flinched and quickly brought out from your thoughts, your face flushing a bit more redder than it was previously. Had he been awake this whole time? His accent and husky voice made it a little difficult to understand him, but you knew what he meant. You pressed your lips together as you opened your wardrobe and grabbed the pieces you needed.

"I'm not avoiding you."

"I didn't say that."

"I need to change my clothes..." you mumbled and left the room. He didn't say anything to your excuse. This made your heart feel even heavier.

You quickly put on the clothes you bought and went back to the bathroom to get a towel for your hair. Oh, right. You've used them all on him… You should remember to buy some when you go shopping. You sighed and reached for your hair dryer. After spending too much time in the bathroom by simply drying and combing your hair, you left the room and just stood outside of the hall. This is the moment you were running away from. You sighed. It was mostly because you didn't know what to say…

You closed the door behind you as you entered the dark room once more. You walked carefully and sat on your bed. “I'm sorry for avoiding you… I didn't mean it, I just… I'm sorry…” You sighed in defeat, unable to find the right words to express yourself.

He whispered gently, "Peux-tu t'allonger à côté de moi?" You paused at his sudden request. Your eyes widened slightly and turned to him, even though you couldn't see his face very clearly, you knew he was looking at you with those gentle honey colored eyes. I guess the fact that he could see better than you in the dark gave you a disadvantage also.

You stammered, "Uh... I-I'm sorry, what?" Thanks to him, you knew a little French, but you couldn't believe that you could understand what he was saying. And at the last moment you regretted what came out of your mouth. You didn't want to force him to repeat himself, he needed to rest and not waste his breath—

"Will you lie down with me?" You stared at him, you still didn't think you could believe what you heard was right, your face flushed red, you didn't expect him to tell you this out right.

"Oh... uh... s-sure?" You weren't sure. But for some reason you couldn't refuse, maybe it was because you felt like you owed it to him or maybe you just needed it. You crawled next to him and laid down, pressing your face into the pillow next to his. You felt so awkward doing this.

You laid there for a while staring into the ceiling, your body a bit stiff until you heard him mutter once again, "What do french fries do when they meet?"

You blinked consufe, "H-huh..?"

"They ketchup."

You glance at him as he snickered softly at his words, somewhat proudly. You were actually puzzled by this. Then the joke hit you like a truck.

"Oh my god." You groaned and rubbed your face. A smile appearing on your lips as you try so hard to stop yourself from laughing. "That was terrible."

"But I saw a smile."

You chuckled at that and hummed, "I laugh so you don't feel bad."

"Then I have to make more bad jokes."

"Please don't."

"What do French ducks say? Quoi quoi."

You groaned with that. But it felt... nice. You just give in to his jokes. Your body relaxed, you felt in peace once again. You were actually really tired. You didn't even remember what you were doing before he showed up. "How about you tell your jokes tomorrow? Maybe I'll laugh then. How is that sound?"

"Like a deal."

You smiled at that as your eyes become too heavhy for you to force them open. You silently yawned and wiped away a tear. " 'Night." You muttered, turning to your side and in a more comfortable position. The last thing you remember before falling asleep was the blanket being pulled over you and his arms wrapping around your body.

"Bonne nuit mon amour. Je t'aime. Merci pour tout."

#bullfrog x reader #bullfrog #x reader #reader #captain lazerhawk spoilers #captain lazerhawk #allenwrites

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altschmerzes · 1 month

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🌹🌹 Wriggle Up and/or New York Minute pleassssse 🙏

yesssss okay new york minute has taken over my brain for a moment so i'll go with an excuse to share some of that one

('new york minute' is my first fic for the bear, btw, it is a cousin michelle from the christmas episode pov of The Whole New York Debacle. as always i am really really anxious taking my first try at character voices, and picking a pov character who is a minor side character in one (1) episode has been both freeing and anxiety provoking LMAO. so. here's this.)

(also it's.... long. we know this about me and clips.)

As soon as Carmy is under her roof, safely tucked away in her guest room, Michelle takes what feels like her first full breath in since Christmas. It’s not like everything is magically okay now - Carmy certainly isn’t okay, and he’s just one little piece of the whole fucked up puzzle, but she’s finally done something about it. Michelle has found the one piece of that puzzle that she can do anything about at all and she’s done it. That’s the part that’s driven her the most out of her mind - knowing that things need to be done, that nothing is alright in Chicago, and not knowing what to do. Who to try and help, never mind how.

Natalie has Pete and her friends from school. She’s got a home and distance and she’d mentioned while on a walk with Michelle, looking away like she wasn’t sure what the response would be, that she had started therapy after Thanksgiving. And Michael has… Well. When they talk on the phone, Natalie doesn’t have a lot to say about Michael that’s encouraging. Michelle is worried about Michael but it’s not like she can do anything about that. They were close when they were younger but the older they got and the more Donna took a shine to her the more strained her relationship with Michael got. They were a competition of their own, really, or at least a battlefield on the war between their mothers.

Grandpa Berzatto, right? Michael Berzatto. A looming figure gone before any of her generation was born, and so of course the oldest grandchild is named after him - both of them were, at the beginning and the end of the same year, one down each branch of the family tree. Michael and Michelle. They thought it was funny when they were younger. Used to tell people they were twins, when they were real little. It’s not like that anymore. At least Richie is there, though. At least Richie is always there.

Thank god for Richie, said almost no one ever and Michelle several times over the course of her life.

One time, she was seventeen and going out with a guy who was far too old for her and a massive asshole on top of that. When she finally dumped him and his reaction scared her enough to tell them what was going on, Michael and Richie got a baseball bat and a tire iron out of the garage and broke every window and light cover on the guy’s car. Richie took one of the pieces from the tail-light to wood shop class the next day and while the teacher was off making sure some sophomores didn’t lose any fingers using a table saw, he sanded down the edges and put a hole through it, then gave it to her on a keychain. Michelle still has it somewhere. Michelle still has that keychain somewhere and Richie still has Michael and so that’s one thing she doesn’t have to worry about not being able to fix.

So there’s nothing to do for any of them, because Natalie is going to be okay in ways that even Michelle isn’t, and Michael is out of her reach, and Donna is out of everyone’s reach. (Donna needs help. She’s obviously suffering and needs some serious help, but Michelle learned long ago with her own mother that there’s no forcing help on someone who won’t accept it and will stop speaking to you for months if you try to push it anyway.)

But Carmy… Carmy is in her guest room and it’s still pretty early but she thinks he’s asleep and this she can do. This, him, Michelle can help.

(Michael caught her on the way out, when she and Stevie were leaving. She was worried for a moment, because he had that intense look on his face that meant trouble could be coming, and when he said heard you asked Carm to come stay with you for a few days in New York she steeled her nerves for one last explosion for the road. Michael was silent and Michelle was silent and he still had a hold of her arm but he wasn’t squeezing or anything so she let him keep his hand for now. And then he just said Good. Get him the fuck out of here and do not let him come back. Then he gave her a hug so tight she couldn’t breathe and kissed her on the cheek and said love you, Mitch and he was gone.)

#there is so much like. woe. this VAST NETWORK OF HEADCANONS IVE DEVELOPED be upon ye #in this fic #about the specifics of like. how is cousin michelle related to them. what's their relationship like. did they grow up together etc.#gav gab #gav answers #define-lying #writing liveblog #ask box games #fic: new york minute

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siilvan · 2 months

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Solitude

Characters: Mylène "Petra" Scholten de Ridder

Summary: The feeling of being alone. (Or something like that.)

Genre: Light angst? Idk, it's just sleep-deprived rambling lol

Warnings: Semi-proofread, light cursing, some mentions/allusions to canon-typical violence, again it's just random shit

Word Count: 1.5k

Note: I wrote this in a few hours because I've been an emo bitch lately and figured I'd do what I always do when I'm sad, AKA take it out on my oc (◡‿◡) I might leave it up, I might cringe after I wake up and delete it, who knows honestly? I promise I'm working on things people actually want to read, btw

If Petra was one thing, it was a woman not easily phased by trivial matters. War, violence, exhaustion, death – all things she was experienced with. All things she knew how to handle on any given day. She earned both her call sign and her position for exactly that reason, even.

Now, if Mylène was one thing, it was a woman constantly weighed down with the things she faces on any given day. War, violence, exhaustion, death – it haunts her every waking moment. She had learned to deal with it over the years, how to put a pin in her emotions for the sake of getting the job done. People needed her to be the steady hand, so that’s what she became.

She never quite learned how to deal with the loneliness, though.

"Just call me if you need me, okay? Any time, I don't care when or where. I'm there."

The words felt foreign as soon as they left the captain's lips. She wasn't used to hearing that. She was always the one people came to rely on.

A heavy sigh escapes Mylène's lips as she unceremoniously flops down on the sofa with her old scrapbook in-hand. It was a hobby her mother had, one she didn’t understand until it was too late to even tell the woman that she learned why she loved it so much.

That's another thing she was. Sentimental. All she ever seemed to do when she was alone was reminisce. The good days, the bad days, the moments that she was sure went right in and out of anyone else's brain – her first sniping lesson with Price, the first time Nikolai called her "Mila," the first time she heard Ghost's genuine laugh, when she and Soap discovered their mutual love of art, the one single time she almost beat Gaz in a race… small moments, but ones she held close to her heart.

As she flips the near-overstuffed book open, she's immediately greeted with another memory. One she was honestly surprised she could still recall so clearly, considering she was only six years old during it.

A photo, taken in the dead of winter. Her family was in the states, visiting her aunt and uncle for Christmas. They were at the dinner table – her aunt was to the left, her honey blonde hair tossed over her shoulder as a few streaks of silvery grey finally started to show, with a three-year-old Emiel sitting in her lap and babbling away to her. To the right was her uncle, the grey in his dark hair and beard far more visible as he leaned back in his chair, a soft smile resting on his lips as he watched the six-year-old in his lap frantically scribble away on a piece of paper with a crayon. In the back, standing in the backyard and visible through the half-open glass door, was her father – younger, not yet the man she knew him as – and her two cousins, tossing a football back and forth and laughing away. Even her childhood dog was there, a blur in the picture as she ran after the ball.

Her mom wasn't in the photo. Judging by Emiel pointing somewhere behind the camera, she was the one taking it.

The more Mylène thought about it, the more it almost became funny. There was a point in time when she was surrounded by people, almost too many for her to keep up with. Her gaze lifts from the page; she tries to ignore the wetness clinging to her eyelashes as she looks around her living room. Other than her, it's empty. Her brother was somewhere else in the world, surely finishing another sensitive mission that Laswell assigned to him. "I want the best for the job," she always says. Her aunt and uncle were still in the states, but every time she thought about them, all that seemed to come to mind was how they lost fifteen years to the anger of her father.

After years of losing people left and right – allies, entire teams, patients in her care, civilians, friends – maybe it was for the best that she was alone. Even the task force had some close scrapes over the years, moments when she worried about losing one of the people she had come to consider a second family.

Mylène closes the scrapbook with a heavy thud and sets it down on the small coffee table in front of her. She shifts, pulling her knees up to her chest and eyeing the cellphone sitting next to the book. It was silent, save for the occasional spam email or update from her superiors. If she wasn't a woman ruled by her sense of pride, she'd consider sending someone a message.

Maybe she could text Freya and ask about her progress with the recent training exercises she gave her. Or, maybe she could text Christine for an update on the new batch of recruits. Maybe she could even come up with some lame excuse to text Olga, ask her how she's doing after her company rapidly expanded out of the blue.

No, no… She's a woman with too much pride for that. Johnny, Kyle, Simon… She didn’t have a viable excuse for bothering any of them. Between their work and their partners, she doubted any of those three had time for her, anyway.

Price? No, definitely busy with the missus. Nikolai? She can never predict what he's up to, but she assumed it was probably work or his own love, too. Laswell? God, what weak excuse could she even come up with in that scenario.

"Any time, I'm there."

She lowers her head and lets her chin rest on top of her knees. She was only home because she had to be – the captain claimed she was working herself to the bone and needed the time off before she ran herself ragged.

"You can take a week off," He chuckles, patting her shoulder before squeezing it in a firm grip. "Everything'll keep running when you're gone, I promise. We won't fall apart without you."

She laughed at the time. "Just give me a call if Johnny blows one of his fingers off, he's already almost done that three times this month alone." She said.

Was she selfish for feeling a pang in her chest? "It's natural to want to feel wanted," she can already hear someone wiser than her saying. Who could she actually say that to, though? Everyone around her was too busy and too interested in their own lives. She was just… well, herself. Lieutenant Petra; always stable, always the guiding hand, always the last one to complain when times get tough.

Her phone buzzes as the screen flashes to life. She picks it up and sees her brother's name in the notifications. When she clicks into their messages, it's a picture of him sitting in the back of a helicopter, his gear half-stripped off but his mask still on, covering the lower half of his face and leaving his smeared eye black and messy hair on display as he gives the camera a little thumbs-up.

Always his way of telling her he's okay after a mission. Whenever she was sent out, she'd do the same. Mylène sends a quick reply – "Try and spend more than three days at base when you get back." – and turns her phone off again.

It would be easy to message someone at this point and tell them the truth. "I'm feeling lonely, do you have time to chat?" are just nine little words. She was always the one telling her teammates and the soldiers under her command to reach out if they ever needed her, and yet the thought of doing the same felt like an impossible goal.

She turns her phone on its face and leans back against the cushion. After years of being her own shoulder to cry on, why was she suddenly feeling so lonely? She didn't need to be coddled, she didn't need to be someone's baby, she was always capable of relying on herself and no one else. She promised herself that the last time she broke down in front of someone else would be the last time she let herself do something like that. She didn't need it. She could take care of herself.

Mylène pushes herself off the sofa, worrying at the inside of her cheek. Everyone has their priorities and people they're already focused on caring for. She has herself, and that's all she needs. She doesn't need a shoulder to cry on or someone who knows how she's feeling all hours of the day.

"Verdomme…" She lifts her hands up and presses the heels of her palms to her eyes. "Get it together, Scholten…" She mutters in the empty room, drawing in and releasing slow, deep breaths until she can lower her hands to her sides once more. She handles it, just like always.

She has herself, and that's all she needs.

#cod oc #cod original character #call of duty oc #call of duty original character #cod fanfiction #cod fanfic #call of duty fanfiction #call of duty fanfic #call of duty #cod #mylène “petra” scholten de ridder

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padfootagain · 1 year

Text

Stars in the Evening

Hello everyone! Just felt like writing a little something for our dear Obi, so here we go! (Quite proud of this one, btw, ngl...)

I hope you all like it! Tell me what you think about it!

****

Pairing: Obi-Wan Kenobi x reader

Warnings: Mentions of warfare and grieving, sad, hurt/comfort

Summary: This war has taken its toll on you, but Obi-Wan is here to help.

Word Count: 2199

Obi-Wan Kenobi’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist

You know that it shouldn’t hurt so much anymore.

You’re at war. It happens. Dying. Killing. Surviving. Death and life mingled like never before.

It’s everywhere, in every corner of the Galaxy, around every sun in the sky. It’s everywhere, after years of fighting, you should be used to it.

You’re not. It hurts. A lot. It hurts to see your friends dying, to see hope slowly vanishing from their eyes, to take lives after lives because it’s the only way, or so they say. You’re not sure anymore. You’re not certain of anything.

You were not trained for this, though. Jedi, these are keepers of the Peace. No generals. No commanders. No soldiers at all.

And now there you are, in the gardens of the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, sitting on your own on a bench, and you’re not sure of anything anymore. When you look down at your hands you’re surprised to not find them reddened with blood. When you look up at the stars above your head, you wonder if they’ll still be there tomorrow evening.

You did not expect this life, but there’s no choice, not any real one, at least. There’s the Force. There’s Life. There’s Death. And in between there are innocents to protect. That’s what you keep repeating to yourself; these are the words you believe less and less these days…

There’s one thing steady though, through the tumultuous current. One constant, as unwavering as the speed of light. A shame it’s a forbidden one…

You feel his presence before he appears. You always do. For a long time, you thought it was because of the Force, because of the peculiar way It moves around him. You’re no such fool now, after so many years.

You love him, it’s as simple as that.

When you look up, Obi-Wan is walking towards you, in his brown robes, in his beige clothes and his leather boots. He’s worried, you can tell. He’s got this frown of his, the one he wears when he is saddened or afraid. His beard and hair glimmer in the soft yellow lights of the garden, it’s warm and reassuring. You’re almost ready to smile at the mere sight of him.

Almost… not quite…

His pace slows down as he approaches, blue eyes fixed upon yours, like he’s afraid you’ll run away and disappear if he comes too close. And maybe he’s right. If he approaches, maybe you will flee. It’s easier than to face the truth.

You want him to hold you tight though. You want him to lie to you, lie to you with all he has in him. You just want him to claim that everything will be alright, just for a moment, before the world crumbles down for good.

He stops a couple of steps away from you, head slightly tilted to the side. You want to crumble. You want to let it all out, but you shouldn’t. You can’t. You’re a Jedi. You can’t let your emotions get the better of you…

He’s standing still, wrapped in his warm cloak and silence. No sound of pebbles rolling under his feet anymore. Just the distant buzzing sound of speeders crossing the gigantic city. The quiet whispers of the night. Your breathing, and his.

He lifts his hand to his face to run his fingers through his beard, his other arm crossed before his chest. He’s worried, thinking, weighing his options. You recognize the obvious sign.

“Can I do something for you, Obi-Wan?” you ask him, breaking the silence first.

He stares at you for a moment more before letting out a sigh, and letting his hands fall idly by his side.

That’s how he feels. Idle. Unable to help. He hates it with all his might.

“May I join you?”

You merely nod, scooting over to make some room for him to sit by your side. You look at him as he does so, movements slow and reassuring, soothing. You stare for a moment at his profile as he looks at the gardens before him. Dark blond hair and beard, blue eyes that seem sadder than they should be. When he looks at you and finally speaks, his voice is deep, warm, soothing. Not quite like a friend. Not like a Jedi. He speaks more like a man in love.

Is it so surprising, after all?

“I heard about what happened during your latest mission. I’m sorry.”

“It’s war.”

“Master Lios was a dear friend of yours. I’m terribly sorry.”

You don’t say anything. You can’t. Because there are too many conflicting thoughts in your mind right now, too many feelings you should suppress but you can’t.

You’re grieving a friend. You feel guilty for making it out of this mission alive when your friend didn’t. You feel relieved because Obi-Wan should have come with you to Tattooine, but he was called away to help Anakin at the last minute. And you feel so terribly guilty for being relieved, but you’re glad he wasn’t there, that it wasn’t Obi-Wan who came with you and died.

You shouldn’t feel like that, and yet you do. Because Master Lios was your friend, but Obi-Wan is…

You look up at him again, blue eyes catching your gaze, and the truth is engraved all over your heart.

Obi-Wan is everything.

He looks sad. Filled with pain. Infinite eyes to host a never-ending sorrow. You wish you could make it disappear, but then again, how could you? You feel just the same…

Because you’re at war. Because you’ve killed, because you saw your friend dying, because you love Obi-Wan with every fibre of your being and you’ll always be apart…

You’re a Jedi. But you’re human too. How much pain can a human take before it kills them?

Only when Obi-Wan brushes the tear falling down your cheek with his thumb do you realize you’ve been crying.

“I heard you were wounded,” he goes on, but you shake your head.

“Nothing serious. I’m fine.”

But you’re still crying, you can’t seem to be able to stop. Silent, salted tears you can’t bite back this time.

Before you can say anything else, Obi-Wan wraps his arms around you, holding you close.

He smells of candles, of leather, of warm tea. Linen. Quiet nights. Early mornings.

He smells like home.

You feel safer, all of a sudden. The lie works, and for a moment more, you believe everything will be fine. As long as he holds you close, you’ll be just fine.

He shouldn’t let himself run his fingers through your hair, shouldn’t hold you so tightly, but he can’t help it. Your eyelashes tickle his cheekbone as you close your eyes, your hair feels so smooth between his rough hands. You smell of candles, of koyo melons, of sweet soap. Cotton. Hidden whispers. Quiet dawns.

You smell like home…

“I’m not sure I can do this anymore, Obi,” you confess in a breath, shaky and fragile, words swallowed by the night as soon as they pass your lips. “It’s too hard. And I… I’m so tired…”

“I know. I know…”

“I wish we could run away,” you admit.

You feel him sighing, feel the warmth of his breath against your temple, the movement of his chest as he empties his lungs. When he kisses your forehead, you both know he shouldn’t.

None of you truly care though.

“I wish we could too,” Obi-Wan whispers against your skin, his beard tickling you as he moves his lips. “But we can’t. None of us could live with the guilt if we did. Not now, at least. Not when we are so desperately needed here.”

You nod, although you’re not as convinced as you usually are. You’ve had this talk before, the wise resolution is always the same. This time though, you wish he could change his mind, gather his things, and leave far away…

But then, the war is everywhere, in every corner of the Galaxy, around every sun in the sky. It would be useless. There are too many ghosts to leave behind. They would always end up following you. Besides, if you left, how many more ghosts would be born out of your absence?

He’s right. You know he is. It still hurts all the same.

You tighten your hold on him, fists grasping at the smooth fabric of his clothes. As if holding onto a lifeline.

“What if you’re the next one?” you ask, voicing this fear that’s devouring your heart, that’s keeping you awake at night. Your voice is so drenched with tears, so tight in your throat, you barely recognise it as your own. “What if you leave me? What would I do then? Obi-Wan, what would I do if you died?”

But he shakes his head, holding your face in both his hands, thumbs grazing across the smooth skin of your cheeks in a delicate caress. He smiles.

“I will not pretend that there are no risks at all. But it doesn’t matter, Y/N. I’m here. I'll always be here for you. Don't you know that by now? That I'll never leave? Not really, at least. Not the way it matters."

He takes your hand, guides your palm to rest on his chest, right over his heart, so you can feel its steady beating.

“I should not give it away,” he breathes, words that he shouldn’t say but they’re true all the same. “And yet, it belongs to you. Always have. Always will. Even if something happened out there, I would always look after you. Through the Force. I would always be there.”

You nod, and you don’t need to speak the words for him to know that you feel the same. That your heart belongs to him, that it has for what seems like forever, that it will always belong to him.

“I’m so scared,” you let out in a murmur. “And I know it’s not the Jedi way, but I can’t help it. I’m just… I’m so tired…”

“I know. I know…”

“And this… the way I feel for you… I simply cannot… ignore it. It hurts. It’s painful and maybe… Maybe I love you a little too much, and that's why it hurts sometimes."

You let out a trembling sigh, before leaning to rest your head on Obi-Wan shoulder. He rests his cheek against your hair.

“Do you think I’m weak, for feeling this way?” you ask him.

But he shakes his head, voice hoarse, his throat too tight.

“No, of course not. I think… this is war. And we were taught to love all. How can we fight a war if we’re meant to love and protect even those we must destroy? And we have lost so much already… I do not think you are weak. Not at all. I simply think you’re tired, and in pain. After all you’ve had to live through, it isn’t that surprising. But I also know that you are brave, caring, generous, and loyal to a fault. And I know that no matter how you feel now, tomorrow, when your help is needed, you will answer. Because you were born for this, just like I was. And it is not our way to let others suffer when we can help, even if just a little, even if we can’t save them all.”

You nod, because he’s right. Tomorrow, after a sleepless night, you know perfectly well what will happen. You’ll meditate in your chamber as the sun rises over the skyscrapers, setting their windows on fire. You’ll get dressed. Head for a breakfast you’ll barely touch at all. Laugh at Ahsoka and Anakin and their everlasting banter, because you always do. You’ll talk with Obi-Wan, trying to hide the way you want to kiss his lips every time they move. You’ll train for a while. You’ll wash up and you’ll head to the Council Meeting, and you’ll listen to the reports and you’ll tell about what happened to Lios. And then Master Yoda and Master Windu will turn to you with a new mission, a new village to protect, a new base to evacuate. And you’ll accept, with a bend of your head. Silent. Obedient. Because you know that if you don’t help, no one else will.

“I wish we could be selfish, just for once,” you plead. “I wish you could stay. Just this once. I wish we could both stay and be as we were before all this: a little more innocent; a little more carefree.”

“These times have passed. They are only memories now. But I am still here. I am still here.”

You let him hold you for a little longer. And you wish he would kiss you, but you know he won’t. Because you are both Jedi. Because it would hurt too much to believe in love when dawns are bathed in blood rather than hopes. Because it would hurt him too much if he let himself love you the way he craves to.

Instead, it’s better to hold you tight, and to pretend it’s enough; as if he were certain that the stars above your heads would still be here tomorrow evening...

#obi wan x reader #obi wan x you #obi wan x y/n #obi wan kenobi #obi wan kenobi x you #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi wan #obi wan kenobi fanfiction #obi wan kenobi oneshot #obi wan fic #sw #sw fanfic #star wars #star wars fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #writing

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buff-muffin · 4 months

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(I'm @beanghostprincess btw this is just my main acc) Please please, I need more ideas of yours for the headcanon of Sabo being deaf in one ear. Because the reblog you wrote was awesome and I desperately need more of it. Besides, I would love to make it a bit angstier and write about him struggling but I don't have any experience with this and I think your opinions would be great <3333

AAAAA IM SO GLAD YOU LIKE IT NJSDNIJSXN OK OK BUT IF YOU WANT ANGST YOU GOTTA KNOW HOW HALF DEAFNESS WORKS. I don’t mind explaining this shit so dw I’m giggling as I write this.

I will say as a like, heads up I was born deaf in one ear Sabo lost it later on so I’m not 100 right but shut up self projection whoop whoop. I can to what I want. You can at least be half right with this information.

So unlike regular deafness it’s important to note Sabo still has one perfectly working ear. An ear that works overtime.

You need two ears to be able to figure out where noises come from cause it will be slightly louder and softer in each ear ect (idk man). Sabo doesn’t have that hence why my thought of needing Koala to be a quick guide for him. Without her help, he’s just gotta look around till he figures out what made the noise. Obviously he doesn’t have to worry too much about sneak attacks n shit cause of Haki but like. A enemy transponder snail calling and Koala is gone? He’s spinning in a circle and moving his head around till the noise gets louder and he can figure out WHERE THE FUCK IT IS.

This plus a pinch of paranoia and left on his own? Delectable. Hearing noises like distant gunshots, explosions, footsteps but can’t sense anyone and can’t figure out where they are or even where to go to help? Horrifying. ESPECIALLY A YOUNGER SABO NEW TO THIS DISABILITY.

Also in social settings this can be super tiring as in loud spaces all that noise is going into one ear and can make hearing one person trying to talk to you directly nearly impossible and rather overwhelming, that’s why I find the Luffy being loud enough to hear in a crowd delightful. There’s no strain cause Luffy is just that loud. But like. Ya know, War zones are pretty loud. And when you’re reaching your stress and social battery limit and you suddenly can’t seem to hear your best friend over the sound of canonballs? I’d be pretty damn close to tears too Sabo.

Also for a short while kid Sabo was probably easily snuck up on at least till he adjusted cause he can’t tell what side people are coming from. And when you get jumpscared cause you didn’t hear someone multiple times in an hour? It makes you feel like ASS

OH!!! Another juicy thing you could use is stripping him of his sight (as in a blindfold or a dark room) and forcing him to rely on his poor hearing to navigate. He can’t hear what’s going on and when you’re stripped of your senses it’s very easy to panic since your body can’t readjust itself.

Dude there is SO MUCH ANGST TO PLAY WITH.

Anyways as a little fluff palette cleanser: The revs obviously learned to adjust to their chief of staff’s disability and Sabo’s personal transponder snail wiggles when it’s ringing so he can know it’s his snail ringing not someone else’s. Any snail given to Sabo must be trained for this.

Ok fr though I hopes this helps! Feel free to ask more about this or ask me more specific things when it comes to your writings if you’re unsure I am always happy to help!!

#when I heard angst I came fucken RUNNING #for who am I to deny some good fucken angst #revolutionary sabo #one piece #revolutionary army #if there are any spelling or grammar mistakes SHUSH I’m excited lmao #all in all having one ear doesn’t actually disable you that much as ya know he can still hear #but loud noises #locating noises #multiple noises at once #all a fucking pain to deal with #he’s just like me fr #self projection BABYYYYYYYYYYYY #rambles #half deaf sabo #ask #mix those factors with some rev drama and you got yourself one sa d bo

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lilduckwriter · 1 year

Text

Everybody Wants To Rule The World {Hypnos x reader}

Tears for Fears

Warnings ~ None well maybe some angst

EI {Extra info} These story events are based on greek mythology not fully based on the games events (not really accurate btw)

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Welcome to your life

There's no turning back

Even while we sleep

We will find you

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Maybe you could hide it all to well or maybe he was just to oblivious...no it was because he slept all the time. Thanks to that precious sleep of his he'd never know how you feel

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Acting on your best behaviour

Turn your back on Mother Nature

Everybody wants to rule the world

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You hid your emotions like the mist, it's not like anybody in the underworld cared about your love life right. Well maybe he cared so that's why you cared. Going as far as helping him so he would say out of trouble.

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It's my own designIt's my own remorse

Help me to decide

Help me make the

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You thought it could always be like this you and him chating, telling jokes, you helping him stay up and do his list. It was nice however your heart acked like it knew it couldn't be like this for all eternity. Your gut knew it too but they were wrong...right ?

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Most of freedom and of pleasure

Nothing ever lasts forever

Everybody wants to rule the world

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No you were wrong. It wasn't to long that after queen Persephone came back that Hera would come and ask Hypnos to put Zues so she could do something you never found out since work started to pile up and you could no longer chat to Hypnos. Then there was the trojan war where she asked him to do it again so her side could win. Hypnos was hesitant since the last time he put Zues to sleep it didn't turn out so well. Then she promised him something that broke your fragile heart...

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There's a room where the light won't find you

Holding hands while the walls come tumbling down

When they do, I'll be right behind you

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A wife, and had agreed maybe you being around wasn't enough or maybe your feelings are getting the better of you. Once you found out you were heart broken. After the war was the wedding, of course it was held in the underworld. You wanted to be happy for him so you came to the wedding.

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So glad we've almost made it

So sad they had to fade it

Everybody wants to rule the world

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You shouldn't have because when you began to cry because you wish it was you he looked so loving at, you lied and said that you were so happy your *friend* finally found someone

[Instrumental Interlude]

But that's not what hurt the most it was the fact that you could tell that his bride, Pasathea was just as in love with him as you were. On that day after the wedding you snapped you couldn't confront them or anything because who were you to get in the way of a happy healthy relationship.

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I can't stand this indecision

Married with a lack of vision

Everybody wants to rule the—Say that you'll never, never, never, never need it

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So you just ignored them not like Hypnos noticed anyway everytime you came into the lounge there he was kissing her and loving her never noticing your presence again

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One headline, why believe it?

Everybody wants to rule the world

All for freedom and for pleasure

Nothing ever lasts forever

Everybody wants to rule the world

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With envy come hatred and that's all you could feel twords not just Pasathea but Hypnos too. Curse him for getting the happy ending he wanted while you were to wast away and be forgot in history.

[Instrumental Interlude Closing]

One day though Pasathea was in your way while you were walking to your work space while sliding past her you whispered

"I wish I were you Heather Pasathea"

Fin

#hades game #zagreus #hades hypnos #i love him #angst #one shot #thanatos #greek mythology #x reader #Damn wish that was you huh #hades x reader #hades 2 #Be sad #Spotify

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leandmaddy · 1 year

Text

The wedding

Ship~ AleRudy (Alejandro X Rudy)

Type~ Fluff

Finally, after Years of being friends, years of being war buddies, months of being crushes, finally years of being partners, then weeks of being fiancés. Now Alejandro and Rudy were getting married.

Boy were they both scared, Rudy didn't come out to his family, and they were coming. Thankfully Alejandro's family was welcoming of the two, and they loved Rudy. Alejandro's sibling's loved Rudy, and Rudy loved playing with them.

Rudy was in the dressing room getting ready, with Alejandro's mum helping. Alejandro in his room with his dad.

"Thank you, ma'am, for helping." Rudy said, sitting down at the vanity as the older lady started to do light makeup onto his face. "No problem, dear, and please call me mom."

"How do I look?" Ale said stepping out of the changing divider and showing his dad. "Great, but your tie is messed up." The older man said walking towards his son and fixing the tie.

There was a knock at the door. "Alejandro, you have 5 minutes." Soap said on the other side of the door. "Thanks, I'll be out in a second. You can come in." Soap opened the door enough for him to slip in. "Ready?" Soap said walking over to the two men. "Yes, and no..." "What's the matter?"

"Rudy's family will be here and knowing them they'll most likely be the least supportive and disapprove the marriage." "Well, if they say anything, TF 141 can kick their asses for you." "Thanks, let's get going."

Alejandro stood up, and the three of them left the room. "I'm gunna go check on Rudy, you head out, I'll be there in a sec." Soap said walking the other way. "Alright see ya later."

Soap went off to find Rudy. Once He reached the door, he knocked. "Come in." Soap opened the door, seeing Rudy, in the traditional Bride's dress, but with a white suit shirt and vest onto.

"Bloody hell, you look amazing Rudy." Soap said, jaw still on the floor. "Thanks." Rudy said with his usual smile looking at Soap in the mirror.

"You got about 5 minutes btw." "Great, he should be done is 1." The older lady said, starting Rudy's eyeliner.

"How you feeln' about this?" Soap said sitting on the chair beside Rudy. "I didn't come out about being trans and Gay to my family. So I don't know how they'll react..." "Ya Ale told me about that, but don't worry, me and TF 141 can kick their asses for you guys." Rudy laughed a little, "Thanks, Soap."

Soap stood up and fixed the wrinkles in his suit. "Well, I got to go get in line, see ya soon." "See ya." Soap left the room.

"Don't worry Rudy, even if they don't support you, you still have us, Ale, and those TF141 people. Plus, you're changing your name to Ale's, right?" "Ya." "Done, let's get that dress straightened out and we can go."

Rudy stood up and let the lady straining out the dress. "Ok Dear, your ready let's go." Rudy went out of the room with his husband's mom. They made their way to the sanctuary doors. Alejandro's mom poked her head in to let the guy at the piano to start. "Ready?" The woman said, taking Rudy arm in arm. "Ready."

The door's opened, and everyone stood and watched as Ale's little sister's spread flower pedals everywhere and the two walked down the aisle. Rudy spotted his family; they were sitting in the back. Once they reached the end, Ale's mom let Rudy go as He walked up the small number of steps, to be right in front of Price. Everyone sat down.

Alejandro had slight tear's he was fighting back. "You look amazing." "Thanks, you too." They whispered before Price spoke.

(I can't remember what the guy says so let's skip to the kiss)

"You may now kiss your husband." Alejandro and Rudy closed the gap between them and kissed. What they pulled apart; Alejandro had a huge grin on his face. Everyone stood up again and clapped.

After that, they all headed to the main room to eat and dance. The two newlyweds sat in the middle of a big table, with Ale's Dad, and friends on his side, while Rudy had Ale's mom, Ghost, Soap, and his sister. As they sat there talking, Rudy's family came up. "(Deadname)." Rudy's mother said.

"It's Rudy now." Rudy said looking his mother straight in the eyes. "I-. Rudy, I wanted to congratulate you." Everyone at the table was shocked. "What?" "I'm glad to see you happy. We all were expecting you to come back but when you didn't, we got worried." Rudy got up and walked around the table. "Mom..." The older woman pulled her daughter, no, son, into a tight hug. "I'm sorry I wasn't the best." "It's fine, as long as you changed."

They pulled apart, that's when Rudy noticed his dad. Surprisingly he looked nice, he dressed up for once. "Father." "(D)- Rudy, you look nice." "Thanks." "We're going to eat soon, Rudy. Let's go." Alejandro said somehow already behind Rudy. "Alright Ale, I'll be there in a sec... Hey, have you seen Gaz? he's supposed to be taking photos." "I'll ask Price, But I did see him at the ceremony."

"Alright, the foods coming out, so get in line, (Alejandro's family) first, then TF 141 and friends, finally others get in line, first family. Ale and Rudy walked over to the food table and grabbed plates.

They got their foods and just caned pop. After everyone got their food and sat down. The best man did his toast, and everyone started to eat. Alejandro noticed how Rudy was, and placed his hand on the other's supposed thigh, hard to tell because of the dress. "You ok, cariño?" "Ya, just my parents are never this nice. I'm wondering if Ghost and Soap did or said something to them." Rudy said looking at his lover.

"Ah." After everyone ate and finally, they cut the cake. They Alejandro and Rudy took a fork full of the cake and were blind folded. They both missed eat other's mouth the first time but were able to get it the second time.

Everyone sat back down and enjoyed the cake. After everyone ate. The Dj went to his mic and spoke, "Alright, Rudy and Alejandro, the floor is yours's for your first dance." Alejandro got and held his hand out waiting for Rudy to take it. Rudy took Alejandro's hand and stood up, walking with him to the dancefloor.

As they danced, they spoke quietly to eat other. "How was the food?" "It was amazing." "You'll have to thank mom, she made it, family recipe." "I'm going to have to get it off of her so I can make it for you."

After that dance was done, they finished the other dances and had a free dance. "Ale I'll be back, I'm going to change out of this dress and into the other one." Rude said holding Alejandro's shoulder talking into his ear. "Alright love, want me to help you out of the dress?" "Na, you get to do that later, my sister's going to help me." "Alright."

Rudy left Alejandro and went to find his sister. They headed into Rudy's changing room. Rudy took off the jacket and the shirt that was under it. His sister undid the back zipper and helped him out of the dress. Rudy didn't have time to get top surgery yet, so he was wearing his binder under his dress. "Which one is it?" "Uh... that one." Rudy said grabbing the less puffy version of the dress he was wearing. He put back on the shirt and jacket. They headed out of the room and back with everyone.

"Uncle Rudy, can we go take photos?" One of Alejandro's little sisters said tugging at Rudy's hand. "Sure, want to go find your brother. I'll meet you there." She nodded and ran off to find her brother.

"I'll see you later, thanks for the help." "No problem." Rudy waved by to his sister and went to where they were having funny group photos. Rudy leaned against the wall and went on his phone. "GOT HIM!" The little girl yelled, as she and one of her cousin's dragged and pushed Alejandro to where Rudy was. "Grab a prop and stand in front of the curtain. They all grabbed props, Alehandro picked up his cousin and help her on his hip while Rudy picked up Ale's sister and held her on the opposite hip, so Alehandro and Rudy were in the center and the little girls were on the outside. After the photo's the girls ran back into the party room.

"What's next?" Rudy asked as him and Alejandro sat down on a couch. "I think just some games." "Oh, we have to do the bouquet thing." They got up and went into the main room. Rudy went up to the DJ telling him they were ready for the next even. "Alright, we're going to throw the bouquet." Most of the single or dating women got in a huddle, Hongari and Soap joining in. Rudy climbed up onto the stage and faced away from the people. "I'll give a countdown, and you throw on 3, ready? 1, 2, 3!" Rudy threw the flowers and Soap caught them.

After that, they played a few more games before, it was getting close. Everyone headed outside. They stood on the outside of the sidewalk. The doors opened and out came Rudy and Alejandro hand in hand, with huge smiles on their faces. They headed to the car that was parked at the end of the sidewalk, Alejadro opened the passenger side door for Rudy, and Rudy climbed in. Alejandro got in the driver's side, and as they pulled away, they waved to everyone.

#cod alejandro #COD #Cod rodolfo #Rudy #alejandro x rudy #alejandro #wedding #trans #Fluff #alerudy

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i-love-you-all · 8 months

Text

54321 HCs - Sage

I did see the sage ask, but it is not in my inbox anymore bc I did try to write a little on my phone but I think I accidentally deleted it instead of saving bc it wasnt there when I went back to it.

But it's under the keep reading! Also, btw, I'm just finishing up whatever's left in my inbox (so I can go back to AC :)) )

5 things they usually see:

Burns, scrapes, and bruises. We know that she's the main mentor for Radiants (until we got to Neon), so in trying to train these younger radiants, it'd be pretty common for accidents. Like Jett twisting an ankle, Phoenix burning himself and sometimes others, and Neon with her whole issue over self control.

Darkness. I see her as someone who meditates a lot. Her peaceful state of mind is on a nice yoga mat in next to complete silence, and with her eyes closed, both aware and ignorant of the world around her. It's a moment of peace in an otherwise hectic life.

Food. Meals back home are often taken with a family where everyone has their own bowl of rice and shared veggie or meat dishes, and it's a time to be a family. Though she may not be near her family or previous found family, she has new friends that she will probably grow to see as family.

Brimstone's office or a war room. As the primary mentor to many of the radiants and probably within the trust of one of the heads of the protocol, she spends a lot of time staring down plans, schematics, and maps with Brimstone and Viper.

Flowers. I think she's a flower kind of girl who likes tending to plants in her spare time. For the other world agents, this could be how she and Omen bonded: over bonsai tree grooming.

4 things they usually feel:

The cool feeling of her powers as they manifest as ice. She is very in tune with her powers, and I think her hands aren't as warm as regular people's hands. Sure, she could choose another form perhaps, but when she throws her slow orbs or barrier and she feels that rush of cool air, there's nothing like it sometimes.

Her hair in the morning as she brushes it over and over again to achieve that high ponytail. This feels unnecessary, but I wanna point it out because, well, it takes a lot of effort to keep your hair like that, and it's to keep up her reputation/image. But just imagine, she needs to brush her long hair every morning (and when I had long hair, this sucked), make sure that she's washing it and using the right products, and tie it up without bumps or anything. This would be a daily thing too, imo, not just for practicality but also to maintain the image that she's fine, unmovable, if you will.

Injuries/blood. She may insist that she is not just a healer and most would definitely agree with her, but that is one of her roles still, so on the field, with bullets whizzing overhead and pressure on everyone's shoulders, she's the first to get to that injured teammate and get them standing again.

Chopsticks! I totally think she is the kind of person who eats everything with them. I knew a girl who lived in China all her life and left for school, and she would eat pizza, pasta, even attempt to eat hamburgers with chopsticks. I think the other agents give her strange looks sometimes but she has never cared.

3 things they usually hear:

Other agents calling for her. As mentioned, she is the healer, even if she can be more. But Jett calling her about a sprained ankle on the field, or Brimstone trying to summon her for a meeting. She is wanted by many agents for different reasons, and it's well known.

The firing of guns. As we saw in the Lotus cinematic, she keeps her skills sharp and she constantly strives to improve. She puts her self through near impossible training challenges, and relishes the stress and pressure she feels during them.

A few inner voices that echo her doubts, no matter how much she tries to avoid it. Thoughts on how Viper got snappy with her regarding her offer to "heal" Viper. Or how she cannot assist Omen in his search to be whole, or at least learn his identity. There are annoying comments her mind makes up and it sometimes gives her pause. Those are the reasons why she

2 things they usually smell:

Tea. I think green tea and... chrysanthemum tea? (question mark because I'm not sure if that's the English name) It's something she commonly had when she lived in China, and it's the best drink to settle her down after a hard or stressful day. Plus when it gets chilly or too hot, she can change the temperature at which she drink it, and it can help her adjust.

Blood/Death. As a follow up to the injures/blood thing, I think she becomes familiar enough with both to smell it in the air. I don't think it affects her anymore but there were years where she would feel her stomach twist and lurch at the smell. It's almost frightening to her that she doesn't even notice it anymore.

1 thing they usually taste:

Scorn. It's not a literal taste, but I think the first thing that jumped out at me was how different her views were from so many people. Viper chastised her for not understanding her pain and for wanting to hand wave it away, Omen constantly reminds her that her healing means that she takes away from another life, and Reyna sees her as some peaceful hippie - too weak to take what needs to get squeezed out of life for a chance at happiness.

#Not my fave if i'm being honest #but i hope they take her in a good direction still #valorant #valorant sage #sage #valorant headcanons #my writing #answered asks #requested

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joyful-soul-collector · 2 years

Text

Find The Word Tag

I was tagged by the wonderful @loopyhoopywrites to find the words craft, wonder, dark, and honour! Lets see what we found shall we?

Btw, I took these from my Moon Knight fanfic When Wrong Feels Normal that I JUST finished today and will hopefully be uploading soon!

Craft

It took hours before Steven decided his craft was finally finished, but it’d been completely worth it. He only hoped that Jake and Marc would like it.

“Keep your eyes closed, yeah? No peeking,” Steven said, leading both Jake and Marc through the House by the hand.

“If you make me walk into a desk, Steven--”

“Oh hush you’re fine, just a little further--”

“Woah hang on, what’s with the floor, what did you--”

“It’s hardwood, Marc, don’t open your eyes, you’re almost there--”

“Steven, I hope you know this is just a little bit terrifyin’--

“Shut up both of you! Okay stop there, yeah. Aaaand open!”

Wonder

Steven’s stomach rumbled as he walked down the streets of London, and he wondered how long it’d been since Marc had eaten. Maybe he hadn’t eaten at all since taking over the body. It would explain why his legs were starting to feel like jelly after only a few minutes.

No food in over twenty-four hours, Steven thought. Just like when we got home. I wonder what’s the longest he’s gone. What’s the longest I’ve gone?

He wasn’t sure if he actually wanted to know.

He continued walking, not really paying attention to where he was going, that is until he suddenly came upon a familiar-looking fountain, and a familiar looking face.

It was his golden friend, sitting very still on a bench near a sparkling fountain. Marc had mentioned his name, what was it?

“Oh--Crawley! Crawley, hello! It’s me! Steven!”

Dark

“Is it like that every time?” he asked. Marc squeezed his shoulder and shook his head.

“No, at least not for me. Now when I go here I wake up right on my cot, no big deal at all,” he said. Steven frowned at the word “cot” and looked up, only to find the question dying in his throat the moment he caught sight of Marc’s face.

It was the first time he’d gotten a proper look at him since waking up here, and gazing at his face Steven realized Marc didn’t look quite like what he saw in the mirror every day.

Marc’s face was distinctly sharper than it was in the outer world, his cheeks sunken, eyes rather dark and gaunt. Steven touched his shoulder as he grew more worried, and found himself nearly cringing at the feeling of Marc’s sharp bone against his palm. His clothes were too big for him too, hanging off of him in sullen drapes.

“Uh, Steven? What’s wrong?” Marc said, waving his hand at him.

“Marc, are you alright?” Steven said, sliding his hand down Marc’s arm until his fingers found his hand. “You look a bit sick. And what’s this about a cot, why don’t you--”

“What? Of course bud, I’m great! Listen, I’ve got so much to show you, you’re gonna freak when you see everything we’ve got in here,” he said, squeezing Steven’s hand and pulling him through the flat. Steven laughed at his obvious excitement and looked around the room for the first time, taking it all in.

Honor (ok this one is technically cheating but shhhhhh)

The memories weren’t quite as surprising as he thought they would be. The ones of school were more or less the same, he and Marc had the same bullies, the same teachers, the same dread every morning before stepping onto that damn yellow bus. The only difference seemed to be which of them was being kicked around that day.

Marc didn’t seem to have many memories of his deployment, presumably blocked out from PTSD, and the ones he did have Steven couldn’t watch all the way through. The first time Marc shot someone Steven closed his eyes and covered his ears, and that seemed to be enough to take him back to the House. It made him too sad to know that Marc had dealt with fighting a war alone, that he’d never let Steven front during this time. Watching him receive a dishonorable discharge was an odd relief to Steven, despite the fact that he knew Marc had been upset about it.

There were a number of tapes simply labeled “Mom” on them, and Steven wasn’t entirely sure if he wanted to watch those.

I REALLY need to sleep now so I’m not tagging anyone but if you wanna participate 100% go ahead and tag me, and use the same words I did!

#moon knight fanfic #tag game #find the word tag #When Wrong Feels Normal

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chibinekochan · 2 years

Text

My Ghostmate part 5

Ft. Leviathan

Gender-neutral reader insert

Obey me! Monster tales

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More days pass. The practice goes great. It's also thanks to Levi that I can relate better to the character I'm playing.

Our relationship is also getting better with each passing day.

I'm getting used to his slight awkwardness and he doesn't complain over anything.

We also got into the habit of watching anime together every evening. It's quite fun if I'm being honest.

Levi even got me into playing a few video games.

My new life is pretty good, everything considered.

Once again I come home with food.

"I'm home!" I say with a cheerful voice.

"Welcome back." I hear Levi in the living room.

He is playing a new game.

I plop on the sofa next to him. Just casually watch him while I eat.

"Huh?! When did you get home? And do you have to sit so close to me?" Levi is flustered.

"A while ago, and yes I have to sit close to you if I want to read the text on screen." I chuckle and move even closer. I feel like punishing him a bit for not noticing me earlier.

Levi reacts right away by becoming even more flustered and pulls his hood over his head.

In situations like this, I'd love to ruffle his hair but that would probably cause him to vanish.

"S-suit yourself." He barely manages to say this much.

I giggle and move just a bit farther away.

"Oh, actually I have a treat for you. I found my deluxe edition DVD of the Rosen wars. So I figured we can watch it tonight if you want to." Levi puts a box on the table.

"You remember that? Wow, that's very sweet of you!" I give him a big and honest smile.

Levi is very sweet at times.

He blushes. "It's not a big deal. I like the series too."

So we both start the marathon.

It's a 52-episode show and a movie so it's quite a bit to watch.

At some point, I lean back and slowly drift off.

I must've been tired.

Something cold on my shoulder wakes me up.

In my sleep, I somehow ended up leaning on Levi.

"Oh sorry, Levi." I shift away from him and at that moment our eyes meet.

He seems surprised, I'm not sure by what exactly.

Levi gasps and turns half invincible. "Gaahhh!"

This causes me to fall over and right into Levi.

A cold sensation spreads through my body. It's strange, a bit like a cold chill but not uncomfortable.

So this is how it is to be possessed.

A while later I find myself lying on the couch.

I sit up, checking the time reveals that a good hour has passed.

"A-Are you okay?" Levi speaks to me from somewhere across the room. I can't see him at all.

"Yeah, that was wild." I feel somehow giddy. "So you can possess me, that's pretty cool."

I hear a big sigh from Levi.

"You are a weirdo." He sounds like he came closer again.

I shrug. "That makes two of us. Why did it take you so long to leave my body btw?" Now I'm getting curious again.

"T-that w-was the first time I ever…I ever did you know…" Levi stumbles over his words.

I can practically hear him blushing.

"That makes sense." Not that I would know any differently. "So are we going to keep watching or what?"

"Don't you want to kick me out?" Levi is a bit visible now and his cheeks are indeed very red.

"Nope, unless you did something to my body." I shrug.

"I would never!" He sounds offended.

I pat the couch. "I trust you so move your butt here."

Levi gasps again, he looks surprised. "You trust me?"

"Of course, you are my friend after all." I smile at him.

Levi blushes and awkwardly starts the DVD again.

I could tease him a little but I think he had enough embarrassment for one day.

So we just watch the show together.

Living with Levi continues as usual.

Though today is a special day.

"I'm back!" I yell into the house unsure if I get a response. It's about 50\50.

"Welcome home!" Levi is near the door.

"Gee, you almost gave me a heart attack." I'm surprised by him being here.

"Sorry, I was just waiting for you to be home since I have to show you the new game I just got. It's epic!" Levi is so excited it's hard to stay mad at him.

"Awesome, but I have some great news too!" I smile, feeling giddy.

"Don't let me wait, tell me!" Levi is shooting me a smile.

It's always nice to see him just as happy about my news as about his favorite anime dropping new merch.

"We will have our premiere soon! I got a ticket for you." I feel super proud and get the ticket from my pocket.

Levi's eyes shine at the ticket but it only takes him a moment to realize the issue. I can see his disappointment. It makes me sad.

"I know you won't be able to come but when they said we should give them to people we want there I could only think of you." It's a bit embarrassing to admit but true. "So you can have this!" I hold the thicket towards him.

Levi looks troubled. "Are you sure? You could invite a family member or friend? Giving it to me is useless."

"That's not true you helped me a lot with your knowledge and practice. I'm sure you know my dialogue in your sleep by now." I chuckle. "Besides, you can keep it for the collector's value. I mean once I'm famous this will be highly sought after." I smile confidently.

Levi blushes, he seems unsure how to respond but then he reaches his hand out and takes the ticket. "Thank you, I will treasure it." He still looks troubled but doesn't say anything else about it.

"Didn't you have a game to show to me?" I decide it's best to dispel the slightly uneasy atmosphere with a topic change.

"Oh, yeah I almost forgot. You see, this game is about Poseidon building an underwater city. It's so wild." Levi is already on his way and keeps talking about it in great detail.

His delighted ramblings are always the best thing about his latest addiction. It always makes my heart feel warm when Levi is like this.

I watch him play his newest game, which is truly something to behold. At least it distracts me from feeling nervous about my performance.

#obeyme #obey me shall we date #obey me!#obey me one master to rule them all #obey me #obey me fanfiction #obey me fanfic #omswd #obey me leviathan #obey me monster tales

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shelbystales · 2 years

Text

Little Girl - One Shot

Tommy Shelby x Reader

Summary: During the war with the Changrettas, you discover that you are expecting another baby. Tommy points out by her symptoms that it's a different pregnancy and assumes it's a little girl on the way, but he doesn't really like it... or does he?

Warning: swearing, smut 🔞. Oh btw english is my second language so i apologize in advance for the grammar mistakes.

Word count: 3.5k+

------

As soon as you entered the room you saw Tommy lying on the couch reading a book, already in his pajamas.

You smiled to yourself seeing that the book he was reading was the one you kept talking about over and over again.

His face didn't hide his tiredness.

The fireplace in the bedroom was lit, making the room feel warm and comfy, unlike the rest of the house. You took a deep breath feeling the warm in your body.

"Hi" you said smiling. He lowered the book to look at you and smiled a little. "I'm disgusting. Will take a quick shower and I'll be right back" you said walking to the bathroom.

He nodded and gave an simple "ok" before going back to reading.

You took a hot shower, you needed it after the long and exaustive day you had with your son Charlie and the horses. Something your husband had requested you to do. Why? you weren't sure. But you knew it had something to do with his bussiness. Seending you both into the woods with Johnny Dogs family, probably for protection? You didn't know, and you were sure he wasn't going to share it with you.

You felt all the tension of the day go down the drain along with the water. You felt the pain your feet were in for walking too long slowly going away as the hot water relaxed your muscles.

Your breasts were sore but that had nothing to do with how your day went. Your period was late over a month. Just yesterday you told your suspicions to husband who already suspected himself. Of course he would have noticed he pays attention to everything.

To confirm your suspicion, during the shower you started to feel something weird in your stomach and immediately you already knew what it meant. You felt stuppid for eating too much after you arrived, but what could you do? you were starving.

You rushed in the shower, feeling the discomfort getting worse and worse. You just had time to dry yourself until you felt the vomit in your throat. You ran to the toilet and there it went, all your dinner.

You heard the bathroom door open and then felt Thomas' warm hand on your back. He grabbed a piece of toilet paper and crouched down beside you while holding your hair back.

"Let it all go, love" he said while caressing your back gently

After you were done vomiting he handed you the toilet paper so you could wipe your mouth. You finally looked at him and took a deep breath.

"You ok?" he asked worriedly as his hand caressed the back of your neck.

You smiled and nodded. "I think I ate too much" you said throwing the paper into the toilet and closing the lid to flush.

He smiled and nodded "I'll get you some water, hm. Do you want anything else?" he asked running his hand down your arm.

You shook your head and with that he left the bathroom.

*********

Already in the room. You were putting on your black long sleeved nightgown when Tom walked in with the glass of water.

"I definitely didn't miss the vomiting" You said laughing softly taking the glass of water from his hand. He nodded and watched you closely as you drank the water. "What?" you asked placing the glass on top of the dresser.

"Are you feeling okay?" he asked.

"Yes I am... usually everything is fine after I put it out" you smiled and approached him. He put his hand on your waist pulling you closer and hugged you.

"I guess our suspicion was correct" you sad caressing his hair "we have another one in the oven" you smiled and he nodded.

"Mhm-hm" he mumbled

You frowned and asked "are you ok, Tommy?"

He moved his head and looked at you "yes. Just tired". You nodded and walked over to the sofa.

"How was your day? it's been some time since you look this tired" you asked sitting down on the couch. He sat next to you

"Long" he answered as he lit his cigarette and the smell made you sick instantly.

He leaned back on the couch enjoying his cigar and looked at you "you all right?" he asked and you nodded, undoing your disgusted face that you didn't even realize you were doing.

"It's the smell" you said pointing to the cigarette in his hand.

He nodded and took one last deep drag before putting it out in his empty whiskey glass on the small table next the sofa.

After the smoke came out of his mouth he waved his hand through the air spreading the smoke so the smell would vanish faster. You smiled.

"Remember the business I was doing with the Italians?" he asked and you nodded

"If bussines you mean the war that got John killed, then yes" you answered

He nodded to himself "It's getting a little more complicated" he admitted

"More?" you asked instinctively putting your hand over your stomach

"Don't worry love. Nothing will happen' to any of you, all right?" he ran his hand over your face and pulled you in for a peck. You nodded feeling better.

You snuggled into Tom's arms, feeling safe.

You knew he would do anything to protect you, Charlie and the little one on the way.

He put his arm around you, wrapping you in a half hug. He stroked your hair and kissed your forehead "I wish I had gone out with you today" he said.

You smiled "we can go again when you have some free time".

You sat together, just watching the flame in the fireplace. The fire was weaker, but the room was still warm and pleasant.

Tom, with one hand, caressed your back and with the other he caressed your thigh.

You rested your head on his shoulder and with your right hand you caressed his chest.

"I'm going to sleep if we keep this up" you said feeling your eyes weigh down.

Thomas smiled. "You've been too tired, naping all the time. You didn't feel like this during Charlie's pregnancy, did you?" he asked and you shook your head with a small chuckle.

"No. With Charlie it was just nausea. I was sick every day, all the time... today was the first time I felt sick and it was because I stuffed myself with food" you laughed.

"Hm" he muttered.

You pulled away and looked at him "what?".

"Different pregnancy... It must be a girl" he said and you smiled.

"I think so too" you said smiling from ear to ear.

He rolled his eyes playfully and you slapped him lightly on the chest. He pulled you up and kissed you.

"I know you're just as excited as I am and she's going to be your greatest pride" you said.

"Yeah..." he said, shaking his head and smiling affectionately "That's what I'm afraid of".

You rolled your eyes ignoring him

"A little girl," you said dreamily "I always dreamed of having a little girl" you said with a big smile

He laughed softly and said "I already told you, if it's a girl she won't leave this house until she's 20" he said jokingly.

"Oh Tommy, please..." you said

"I'm serious! Have you seen the men out there... they are horrible" he said accentuating his tone of voice jokingly. We both laughed together.

"Then she'll never have friends or fall in love with anyone" you said slightly irritated.

"This does not bother me, love" he said shaking his head.

"Tommy!!" you moved away from him.

"What?" he asked playing dumb

"Are you serious? Do you want her to be miserable?" you asked

"Common Y/N, imagine her bringing a man here and introducing him to me. All I'm going to think is 'son of a bitch is fucking my daughter' and what will you want me to do? Smile and shake the bastard's fucking hand, ey?" he said making you laugh.

He smiled seeing you laugh.

"Thats what my father did" you said with a smile

"Yeah, I really think we'd better not having a daughter... It will save me many hours of sleep"

"As if you slept much already" you rolled your eyes

Tom smiled and ran the back of his fingers over her cheek and pulled her into a slow, tender kiss.

"Tommy, I'm serious" you moved away the kiss "you have to stop this block because she will be born feeling rejected".

He raised one of his eyebrows and shook his head "I will not reject any of my children Y/N".

"So are you excited? Even if it's a little girl?" you asked.

"Of course I am" he replied with a smile and nodded.

You smiled and kissed him.

You climbed onto Thomas' lap and continued kissing him incessantly. The breath of you two was panting and the heart racing.

Thomas was exhausted, but there was no way he was going to stop what was about to happen.

He stroked your back occasionally, squeezing a little harder, with less intensity than usual.

You started to kiss Thomas' neck and he let his head fall back, giving you access. Along with kisses you left little bites on his neck and ear.

"I want you to relax" you said smiling and getting between his legs, realizing that he was too tired "let me work today" you smiled as your hands caressed his cock over the thin fabric of his pajama bottoms.

He smiled, arranging his hips to make it easier for you to start.

You kissed him again and took his shirt off quickly. Smiling while looking at him

You traced kisses from his mouth, through his neck, chest, belly, reaching the hem of his shorts. He lifted his hips to help as you started pulling his shorts off, releasing his already hard cock.

As soon as his shorts were on the floor, you grabbed his dick with one of your hands and started stroking him.

He watched you intently and groaned as you approached your lips giving little kisses on the head of his cock.

"Fuck," he muttered as you began to lick his head seductively.

He held your hair out of her face so it wouldn't get in the way as she kept licking and giving small kisses on the length.

"How long are you going to tease me, ey?" he asked smiling and with that you gave a malicious smile and started to suck him with desire.

He tightned his grip on your hair as he enjoyed more and more the pleasure you gave him.

"This. Fuck...so good" Tom groaned as the pulse in his cock grew stronger and he had to close his eyes as he tried to resist the urge to explode.

Sweat starting to build on his chest. His breathing heavy. Small moans comming out of his mouth. The sight of him was breathtaking.

"You look so sexy with your lips around my cock like that" he said after he went back to watching you.

Thomas' words served as fuel for you and you began to pick up speed.

You then started to caress his balls increasing the pleasure even more and simultaneously you started to make more intense movements with your head making the head of his cock hit the back of your throat.

"Fuck" he muttered closing his eyes again.

"Y/N, I'm going to come if you keep this up" Tom then groaned after a few minutes of deep throating.

"Go ahead. Come in my mouth. I know you can come again later love" you said, pausing briefly.

He shook his head and smiled "as much as I want to, I'm too tired to do that" he replied with a light laugh.

You stopped and looked him in the eyes, still stroking the head.

"So Tommy… what do you want?" you asked seductively "you can come in my mouth and then we can go to bed" you suggested but he shook his head.

"I want to fuck you before I sleep" he said and his words sent chills through your body and you smiled excitedly.

He leaned forward to hold your face with his two hands and kissed you passionately "now let me take care of you, Ms. Shelby" he said with a smile on his face, but you shook your head.

"No..." you smiled slyly "I'm not done yet"

He started to get up but you stopped him and pushed him back to the couch.

"Calm down" you said smiling while seductively lifting the hem of your black nightgown, putting on a little show for him as you undressed.

He smiled admiring the sight of your body.

You knew the moments you had of control in the bedroom were few, so you decided to make the most of it.

Luckily for Thomas, you weren't wearing anything under your nightgown.

"You are so fucking beautiful, love" he complimented you

You smiled at him as you took off your nightgown and threw it in his face. He quickly pulled the nightgown off, not liking having it inhibiting his view of you and quickly tossed it to the floor.

In the meantime you walked back to him and climbed on top of him, putting one leg on either side of his hip and kissed him intesely.

With his hand, he guided his cock up and you sat down slowly, enjoying yourself as he penetrated you.

When your lips finally parted, you both took a deep breath.

You leaned down and kissed his neck, pressing your breasts against his chest, lifting up a little before lowering yourself back down onto his cock until you established a good rhythm.

Watching his face filled with satisfaction as you moved her hips, swiveling and rolling over him, over and over.

"Fuck Y/N...you're so good at this" he muttered, squeezing your hips hard.

Your forehead on his as you did your best.

"You like that, hm?" you asked "you like having your cock buried inside of me"

"So fucking much" he mumbled

You knew he was close and smiled loving the way he was fitting in. At that moment you felt like the most powerful woman in the world, with the most feared man in Birmingham totally at your mercy.

He closed his eyes again as he squeezed your hips, encouraging you to move faster.

You moaned loudly as you fastned your move feeling him deeper. ou felt the intense feeling of your orgasm building in your core. Making him almost come just listening to you.

Your movements became erratic as you let your head fall forward, resting it between Tommy's neck and shoulder.

You gripped the back of his head tightly, trying to keep up. You felt the your orgasm rising and you could hardly hold it.

Realizing that you were almost there, he slid one of his hands between your legs and began to stimulate your clit.

You lifted your face and your eyes met, watching each other as their climax approached.

"I am close" you said in a gasp

"I know, me too" he answered

"Fuck. fuck. fuck..." you mumbled as you couldn't hold back any longer, you clossed your eyes and surrendered to your rising orgasm. Letting your head fall back. The intense pleasure flooded your body as a high-pitched moan tore from your throat. It was intense and your breathing was heavy and labored. You felt your hole bodly tremble and you could barely move as the euphoria took over your body.

The sound of your moans and the sight of you brought Tommy to the edge, and finally, he came with a loud groan escaping him, collapsing before you.

You rested your head on his as you slowed yourr movements, while still breathing heavily.

"Fuck..." he cursed breathlessly hugging you tightly making you collapsed on top of him, leaning against his chest.

You both remained in each other's arms until your breathing returned to normal.

"I really wanted to take a shower, but I'm almost asleep" you said into his neck.

He smiled and said "We didn't even sweat that much, my love...".

You pulled back so she could look into his face and smiled. "Can we go to sleep then?" you asked and he nodded.

"I just need to stop by the bathroom first," he said as you got off him.

You knew he needed to clean up, since you'd made a mess on top of him, a mixture of your cum with his.

Once in bed, you both snuggled into each other's embrace.

"Can I ask you something?" you asked with your eyes closed and in a sleepy voice.

"Mhm-hm" he replied, also with his eyes closed, already almost asleep.

"Do you think we could tell charlie tomorrow? Or do you think it's too soon?" you asked

"We can tell him" he aswered.

"Okay" you replied in a low tone "he will be so excited"

"He would more if it was a boy" he answered and you chuckled

"How long will you keep this up?" you asked playfully

"Not long" he asnwered "just until she's about to turn 20" he smiled

"Oh God" you smiled kissing him.

#peakyblinders #cillianmurphy #peaky blinder fanfic #fanfic #blinders #thomas shelby #tommy shelby #modern thomas shelby #modern tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby x imagine #thomas shelby imagine #peaky blinders #tommy shelby imagine

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monicahar · 2 years

Text

Genshin guys if they were in a romance anime

characters; scaramouche, gorou, thoma, kazuha, childe

; i wanted to recommend some romance shows to watch for valentines(since it'll get pretty lonely for some people), but I also wanted to write something! Thus, this post was born. There’s a few changes I made to each story to fit the characters but please beware; there are MAJOR spoilers for mentioned animes!

btw kazuha's part has gotta be my fave😩

Scaramouche — Kaguya-sama : Love is War!

"How impudent." a scoff escapes his lips, gesturing his hand in an irksome manner, “Did you hear those baseless rumors about us dating? They’re being quite loud these days.”

Kunikuzushi, or as other people call him, Scaramouche, the vice president of Teyvat’s most prestigious high school!

"Whether they think we're dating or not, matters little to me. Are you getting swayed by all the love talk, perhaps?" smoothly did you reply, flipping through the pages of written club activities as you sip your cup of coffee in your desk.

"Swayed?" he turns to look at you with a faux smile, offended by your statement, "Are you underestimating me?"

Your eyebrow piques in surprise at his rejuvenated response, your eyes not leaving the documents you're holding, "Forgive me, I merely thought you were finally entering your lovesick phase. It's rather below you, but it's normal these days."

"Normal, huh." he turns to the window that shines sunlight upon the room, "Don't tell me you're also entering that so-called phase."

"Hmm...I'm afraid I don't have anyone I have feelings for right now." A lie. One of the biggest lies you've said.

You were indeed in love with someone, that being Scaramouche himself. No one knows how hard you've worked for your position as the President, no one knows your extreme admiration for the boy, no one knows that you've only surpassed him on grades because you wanted to be good at something that he can consider you as a worthy partner, no one knows your faked indifference every time you pass a test, coming out as the top—a few points away from Scaramouche's, and most importantly, no one knows all the blood, sweat and tears you've shed just to be put on the same pedestal as someone who's as highly reputable like Scaramouche. No one knows. And you're not planning to let anyone know either.

"Likewise." he closes his eyes, "So you shouldn't accuse me of such things when you're not experiencing anything of the matter."

You do your best to ignore the wave of disappointment that washes over you, opting yourself to focus more on the bills and debts of different club and school activities. Atleast he's not interested in anyone yet.

Hope still lies in your heart. Deep down, something tells you not to give up, and not get intimidated by the status of your vice president. He'll like you someday if you try hard enough, and who knows, maybe he already likes you but he's also keeping it to himself much like what you're doing right now?

Well, it still doesn’t help the anxiousness in your heart whenever you think about what you both could be if you had confessed your feelings. Late at night, you’d lie on your bed and think if a romance between you two is possible. Maybe you’re fitting for each other, with your intelligence and his wealth. But is his title as a member of the Raiden family willing to overlook your background as a normal girl who’s working part time at multiple jobs just to support her family?

If only he put down his pride and confessed, if he actually did have feelings for you.

The indigo-eyed individual silently curses himself, nearly slipping out his true intentions when he brought up the newly risen rumors about you both dating.

He's the one who spread the rumors in the first place, placing an anonymous post on the school's website. All of this was part of the futile attempt to get you to confess your undying love for him.

He can't confess his own feelings, his pride is too high for something like that, he thinks. Someone as well-known like him shouldn’t be on their knees begging for a date.

Even though he's not certain of himself whether you like him or not, the chances are pretty high. If you weren't in love with him like he thought so, then he'll simply make you.

He's the son of one of the richest businesswomen in the country, Raiden Ei. No one can resist such a rich and handsome looking man such as he, right?

Though the known family of Raiden is quite a boost to his chances being with you, but this also places the big burden of a high reputation upon him, heightening the expectations of him by the people around him.

Would it be okay for his family if he dated a woman of no background like you?

Although your excellent grades and achievements make up for it, the question still remains unanswered inside him. The risks are high, but he's willing to try.

Is this what you call being lovesick?

Gorou — Rascal does not dream of Bunny Girl Senpai

His hands skimmed through different books, trying to find a reference to what he's currently studying. The library was as quiet as any other day, people around him peeking through shelves which he suspects are for the same reason as him.

Everything seems normal and no one seems to notice it, but he feels...a strange presence.

Call it kind of a dog—instinct all you want, but he can feel it.

But before he could catch sight of the shadow-like person lingering in the library, it would just escape to a corner in the nick of time before he could fully scan the figure through his peripherals.

Awkwardly scratching the back of his head, he just brushes it off as just imagination, thinking that he was probably being delusional since everyone else wasn't paying any mind to the presence.

That is, until he saw it.

A girl.

An oddly familiar one.

You quietly stared at the people around the library, waving right in front of them, to which they don't acknowledge.

Your locks swayed behind you as you walked nonchalantly, briefly brushing your shoulder with his, causing him to stiffen up as you both stare at each other.

You stop your steps right beside him. Adorning a quite revealing bunny suit as you glance around the library, before landing your gaze back to him.

"You can see me?" You crudely asked as you faced him.

Finding himself speechless and unable to speak at the weird predicament he's in, he nods.

"Oh?" Your brow raised at the revelation, "Well, forget any of this happened." you promptly leave him in the dust amongst the busy people in the library.

He stands shocked at what happened, watching your form slowly disappear as you walk out the library's doors.

"...[Name]—senpai." The name escapes his lips before he even knows it. The muttering of your name managed to clear the fog in his memory.

You were a senpai from the same high school as him, but you were on a education hiatus due to your job as a celebrity. He forgets that he has a pre-alumna figure like you.

Gorou's cheeks slowly heat up at the image of your bunny suit. The way the stockings showed till the low of your hips, your chest puffed up due to the tight clothing and the collar you wore gave him strange feelings.

But... His eyebrows furrow as the heat in his cheeks dissipate. Why did no one else notice you? Did they...even see you?

Whatever it was, he was bound to find out soon enough.

Thoma — My Dress Up Darling

"It's creepy to talk to dolls, you know!"

Thoma grimaces at the memory, gripping his grandfather's hina doll in his palm rather tightly.

His only friends back then had drifted away from him after showing his love for grooming the little figures, causing him to shut away himself from social life. If no one likes what he likes, how is he supposed to get along with them anyways?

Don't get him wrong, he isn't trying to be emo or anything. He grimly accepted that in order to have friends, he'd have to pretend to be someone he's not—which is something he'd never do, even if it meant him being lonely. The few people that do talk to him, are either unaware of his tendency to talk to hina dolls like Ayaka, or just using him for their advantage—like now, as we speak.

"Sorry, Thoma, I'll make it up to you by buying you something tomorrow!" A classmate of his bows half-hearted before going out the room with his friend. They transferred their cleaning duties to him, knowing he'd agree for the sake of being polite, even if it hurt him.

The cycle would've continued on like this his entire high school life, until you barged inside the arts and crafts room, unintentionally interrupting as he spoke to his hina doll.

He had chosen to work on the kimono for his doll inside the school's crafting room for the sewing machine, since the one from his home had stopped functioning. Deciding to take a break from the stitching, he tried to talk to his doll—which led to his current predicament.

"What..." You find yourself trailing off in disbelief as Thoma looks down at the floor with a bashed expression, terribly humiliated that someone as popular as you had seen his strange self in the flesh.

It'll only be a matter of time after this when word has spread out and he wouldn't even be able to enter the campus without a laugh coming his way.

"That's..."

Thoma closes his eyes shut. Waiting for your horrified reaction and disgusted words.

"That's so cool!" you squeal.

"Huh?" His gaze shoots up to meet yours, which were sparkling in admiration for...him?

"You can make clothes, Thoma?" Your eyes trail to the sewing machine, where it lay dormant and quiet as a piece of cloth is underneath the needle. "How though? We don't even have an eco class or anything."

"Ah..." Thoma stands up from his seat to look at your properly, "My family owns a hina doll shop."

"Oh? Did you make this doll then?" Your head drops to inspect the figure in his hands more closely, making his cheeks heat up at the proximity.

"N-no...its my grandfather's. I only know how to make their clothes." came his quiet reply.

You hum in understanding, smiling at the doll as you marvel its features, "Look at this hottie."

Thoma feels a slight quirk on the corner of his lips from your compliment. This was the first time that someone had shown in interest in what he loved doing.

"But...clothes you say, right?"

"Hm? Yeah. Wait—what are you doing?!" The blonde immediately turns away from you, cheeks heating up rapidly as you suddenly start taking off your blouse.

The rustling of clothes fill his earshot, his mind getting filled with perverse images of your bare form. Time is going so painfully slow with how you're changing clothes, his relief is sounded when you finally say,

"You can turn around."

You were wearing one of the saddest dresses he'd ever seen. You slightly look down as you catch his offended look, "You see, uhm...I tried making a dress...but as you see, it isn't turning out quiet well."

"That's...sad." You wince at his jab, his hands patting your poorly made dress, "What were you even trying to do with this?"

You pull out your phone to show him a picture of a girl in a maid outfit, his jaw dropping from the amount of differences between the one you're wearing and the one you're supposedly referencing.

"I just want to cosplay...okay?" You let out an exasperated sigh as you plop down on a chair, "It's something I've always wanted to do so please..." You turn to meet his emerald orbs.

"Help me?"

Thoma finds his breath stopping at your pleading look. The way your lush lips pout in anticipation, your eyes glassy, and a slight shy blush covering your cheeks.

"Am I really up to the job...?" he's unsure.

"Uhm, you don't have to do it if you don't want to...it's just that I really like this one character that I want to be her. I completely understand if you don't want to heed to my selfish request." you quickly reassure with a disappointed and forced smile.

"I'll help." he says without missing a beat.

If you were so supportive of his passion for hina dolls, then it's only fair he does the same for you, right? He's new to the world of cosplay, but if he's able to use his abilities to make someone happy, he'd gladly let you guide him into this new territory.

"Really?! Thank you, thank you! Then let's first get started with who I'm gonna cosplay, you see—" you happily show him the girl from earlier, "She's Saint Slimy Girl's high school: Madame's Shameless Miracle Life In The Disgraceful Clubs 2's Kurde Shizuku!"

"Ah." He's mortified as you happily rant about this passion of yours, finding no strength in him to ask about your sanity. He doesn't understand a single thing. Sex slaves? Normal to go an all girls school as a boy? Love-circumstance rape? A harem? What is all this?

"U-uhm..." he finds himself speechless, but...is it really okay to back out now?

Especially when you look so happy talking about this...erotic game...

Sigh. He already knows that his life from now would definitely be more complicated than before. But can he really complain if you're certainly gonna make it more eventful for him rather than being bland?

Kazuha — Komi Can’t Communicate

At first, he was incredibly perplexed. Why were you so eerily quiet...? He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t a little freaked out when you glanced at him for the first time with an intense fixation. He could feel himself slowly sinking in dread as you continued to stare harder, but for some reason, he couldn’t look away. Was it the fact that you were incredibly stunning? No. Was it because this is the first time a girl had noticed him ever since middle school? Yes-er, no. Was it because of the fact that he could hear your silent yearning for friendship? Yes. But he still wasn’t certain despite his infamous talent to hear emotions. Who knows? Maybe he was hallucinating after all those years of coping with his past emo-self that always talks about the wind. He ultimately decided to not mind you, and turn his attention back towards his locker.

The first day of his new school still hasn’t ended, but it was still the last period. Forgive him, but he just can’t seem to leave you alone. His ruby hues scan your form as you ignore all the chatter from your classmates, and awkwardly fumble with the sleeves of your blouse, seemingly hesitant to even speak. Fate visibly made fun of him for putting his designated seat right next to yours, but as much as he hated to be put in the spotlight as the ‘boring guy attempting to woo the pretty girl’s heart”, he was worried about you. You didn’t say a single word during the entire day, prompting yourself to write on the chalkboard during introductions and shaking tremendously when you were called for a question.

So when the final bell rang as everyone has shuffling out of the classroom, he trusted his hunch about your lack of communication skills and decided to confront you when everyone else has left.

“[Name], [Surname].”

You leisurely look up from your desk with befuddlement at the airy voice he’s upholding—temporarily pausing your previous action of packing up your stuff.

“Pardon me for asking, but are you...” he pauses, contemplating if what he’s doing is somehow worth it, “...struggling with talking to people?”

A uncanny noise escapes your lips.

“H-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h-”

Kazuha blinks at your reaction, before he snickers at your difficulty with speaking—kindly reassuring you as he replies, “If you want to say something, why not try writing it on the board?”

A brighter expression perks up on your face, immediately rushing to the board with a small skip in your steps; “How did you find out?” plastered on the board as you bring down the chalk, turning to face him directly.

The silver-haired boy hums in thought, before coming down to a proper response, “You could say that I somehow felt it.”

A blink in your eyes ensues as you notice that he kept it vague to a degree, did he not want you to know something? Oh well, you continue writing on the board—”No one has noticed it before, so i couldn’t really explain to anyone.”

“I see...” Kazuha was always know as the guy who has flowery words on his arsenal at all times, so...why was he speechless?

Both of you remain quiet as chalk rubbing against the sanded plank against the wall, it’s sounds remaining heavy as your excessive writing remains ongoing.

“I really want to talk.”

His breath hitches.

“My face always freezes up when people talk to me. I wish I could talk to them more normally. When I was in middle school, I hated lunchtime. I despised it, since I always ate alone. I tried everyday to join in their conversations, but...I really can’t do it.

I tried, and tried...but I still couldn’t say anything.”

The silence is one of an irony, deafening Kazuha’s ears despite the quiet atmosphere.

“What should I do? How do I start a conversation? And what do I do after that? What if they don’t want to talk to me? What would I do next time? What if they think I’m boring? What if they think my smile isn’t bright enough? What if I’m like this my whole life? What do I do?”

Realization dawns on Kazuha—you were just trying to make friends, but your lack of confidence seemed to have gotten in the way of your normal life. You weren’t a goddess like everyone thought; You were just a normal girl.

“I must be bothering you, Kazuha. I’m sorry for rambling, I’ll go now. You can just forget everything I wrote.” your hand raises up with an eraser on hold, dragging it across the board to remove the evidence of words in chalk. You turn once again to the boy, before bowing respectfully—thus, your departure out to the door of the classroom betides.

Your stride halts when your ears pick up on a chalk being used once more, swiveling around to see Kazuha also writing on the board—”It’s a nice weather today, don’t you think?”

An astounded expression makes it way to your features, not expecting him to reach out.

Even with twitching palms, you approach the board, arriving at his side as you pick up an extra chalk, “Yeah. “

The silent, yet thrilling conversation on the board transpires pleasantly, both of you—quite compelled at the thought of this chemistry you both have as you two chatter about your middle school days, a television show that aired last night, current difficulties with studies, to which teacher you disliked the most.

“My dream is to have 100 friends.” your writing paints the board—an answer correlated to his question about your dream.

You step back to marvel at how filled the board had gotten the past hour, your eyes gander to Kazuha’s hands, watching as they swiftly write something you guess is a comment about your goal; he also steps back, awaiting your reaction as you scan his composed writing.

Your breath halts for a moment, your [c/c] hues widening in aghast.

“Then I’ll be your first friend, and help you make the rest.”

Childe — The Class President is a Maid!

“Hey guys, look at what I found.” The guy smirked in mischief as he beckoned his friends over, eyes wandering at parts of your body that shouldn’t be looked at with such a disgusting lust.

“Leave me alone.” Your usual authoritive voice was long gone, your words coming out weak. Being hopeless in this situation, you shut your eyes as you wish that they would just get on with it already. These scum.

“Hah! You guys heard that?” The cigar between his lips ghosts over your cheek due to his proximity. “I dare you to repeat that again, woman.”

“Oi.”

Your eyes instantly go wide when an arm gently encases you into a warm and broad chest, pushing the wierd guy away from you with a harsh slam.

You recognise that voice everywhere.

Childe. Tartaglia. Ajax. Whatever he goes by, he's well known as the pretty boy at your school who constantly causes trouble for you.

Be it that you're a feminist or not, there's just something incredibly annoying whenever you see him coldly and blatantly reject girls from all over the campus. He doesn't even sugarcoat his words a bit. Does he have no mercy at all?

"She may be cute, but she's not yours to touch."

You refrain to look at him with how much your face heated up at his comment, your hands tightly gripping your maid skirt in embarrassment.

This occupation of yours is questionable, but it works perfectly with your schedule and it pays just enough for you and your family's daily necessities. It's hard to find jobs like these, especially when someone is as young as you.

The once smirking men have became utter cowards when they realized who just spoke, opting to run away in fear of angering the force Childe is.

Once their footsteps had left your earshot, you immediately pull yourself away from Childe's arms, his position going lax as he asks if you're okay.

"...sorry."

"Hmm? For what?" he asks, but smirks in a knowing manner.

How annoying.

"Sorry for yelling at you...earlier...thanks for the he..."

Childe's hands swiftly came to your rescue the moment your head fell back. Turns out, the loss of strength just now was due to your fever.

His hand goes up to hold yout forehead, examining your temperature, before letting out a small laugh as you attempt to regain your full consciousness. Key word: attempt.

"I never took our President to be one who neglects her own health..." He teases as your face grows hotter at his embarrassing remarks, "Tsk. Tsk. How childish."

"Shut up..."

Feeling you go limp against his figure makes itself known to him that you've finally fainted out of exhaustion. Childe laughs quietly to himself once more. "No. I won't."

During all that conversation, he was practically trying his best not to ogle at your maid outfit-

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