#i would’ve been fine if he died some other way

[stsgooo]

Haunted.

✩࿐ summary: geto had suffered enough, why should he let you go too?

warning(s): suicidal thoughts/idealizations, death, poor coping mechanisms, gn!reader, depression, isolation, description of violence, angst no comfort, curse!reader, cult leader geto things, character study vibes, not proofread (sorry). wc; 15.7k

pairing(s): geto suguru/reader, geto suguru/gojo satoru/reader (briefly), geto suguru/gojo satoru

a/n: hii, been a while since i’ve written an x reader fic so hope this abides by everyone’s standards :) as i finished this, i realized that this probably should've been multiple parts because of how long it is, but it was too far gone at that point. anyway, i hope you enjoy and if you don't i would rather not hear about it!

available to read on ao3. | divider 1

I. 2005

SUGURU WAS SURE YOU HAD A DEATH WISH.

Out of everyone, it seemed as if you had some crazy switch in you that just flipped during a battle. It was as if you got tunnel vision and your every move was erratic, death the only option. It did not matter to you whether you lived or died. Saving others was your main and only goal. That scared him to death.

You were powerful. Powerful enough where you didn’t need to go all out on every curse that even hinted at having some type of power over you or others. Yet you always found yourself in Shoko’s room, sporting one cut too many, and a bright grin as if you weren’t pushing the limit. You would wave away any and all concern with that smile.

I’m just fine, you would roll your eyes at their worry. Really, you guys, stop fussing so much.

Suguru had argued with you about it before. Both of you had been sent on a mission to some elementary school, few kids had gone missing. You found the curse, and the kids, and a fight ensued. It was nothing crazy. Not until you practically served yourself on a platter for the curse and told Suguru to run away with the kids. Of course, he didn’t leave. What kind of friend would he be if he just let you die? What kind of sorcerer would he be if he just ran away while you were torn limb by limb? He’d be a failure of a sorcerer and a failure of a friend.

It bothered him. It enraged him how easily you threw your life away for others. A hint of danger and you were willing to get yourself killed over it. The complete disregard for your life in the first year that you all knew each other irked his very soul. Your behavior was worrisome. It confused him.

The buildup to his fight with you was a lot to unpack in itself.

The car ride from the hospital the kids were at was silent. Filled with a tension that unsettled his heart and he was sure unsettled your mind. You made no attempt at small talk or passing a good job, it was just silent. He silently thanked you for it. Because he was sure if you spoke then, he would’ve blown up. He would’ve said horrible things. So he silently thanked you for your silence, your silent allowance to let him think. You even fell asleep and Suguru couldn’t help but ask himself how you could sleep so soundly after such a close brush with death.

Three days later, he could tell Satoru and Shoko noticed the tension.

He knew they noticed it the moment you two returned. Your clothes soiled, face covered in mud and blood, hands all too shaky. Maybe it was the way you walked away from his side to great them. Or it was probably the way he glared at the wavering smile on your lips as you told them everything went fine. It was most definitely that.

Shoko was weary of it. At lunch, she’d sit between him and you. Her words were light as she teased and prodded, but never dared to ask the serious questions. She kept the air free of the awkwardness or the anger brewing. Shoko was kind like that. She was optimistic.

Satoru, however, wasn’t.

Although he seemed to abide by the silent rule not to ask you questions, he was practically grilling Suguru any given moment. He asked what happened. Why was Suguru so angry? Why were you acting so standoff-ish? Had something finally happened between you? Did Suguru get rejected and was he throwing himself a pity party? There were so many things that he threw out into the open like it was silly. As if Satoru derived some entertainment from the tension.

Do you ever notice they’re ready to get themselves killed for others? Suguru had thrown out to Satoru a week after the mission.

Satoru’s eyes lost the amusement and his smile dimmed. He pushed his glasses further up his nose. Of course I have. His voice was ridiculously serious and slow, extremely distant. As if recalling something he pushed to the back of his mind often. His attention had cut back to Suguru and shook his head. Man, it’s best to leave this alone. Trust me. Sensei will say something soon enough.

Suguru couldn’t help but worry that their first year teacher’s talk wouldn’t come soon enough.

Things just didn’t make sense to him. He just didn’t understand why you would be so willing to throw yourself into death like it was a blanket on a cold night. Sure, they’re meant to save people, but it didn’t mean death. Not everything had to be final. He feared that you just didn’t know it.

All of it came to a head when all four of you were placed on a mission three weeks after.

At this point, it was apparent that you both were avoiding each other. Different topics that neither of you wanted to address made headway into your dynamic. Distanced you both from one another like it was a bubble. A shield protecting you both from uncomfortable and frankly angry conversations.

But you did it again.

Sure, this time the curse was too much. Things weren’t looking too great for them. But the moment Suguru noticed you were missing from his and Satoru’s side, he felt panicked. He knew what was coming and knew what you’d say.

You caught the curse off guard as you jumped from the top banister, your large hammer at the ready. You shouted something along the lines that they should get out of there. But Suguru nor Satoru dared to run away. He watched, in horror, as you vanished into the curse’s mouth. As he was ready to summon his small arsenal of cursed spirits, the thing was cut from the stomach. Then you got its head.

There was silence as you stood amongst the carnage. Covered in the things purple goopy blood. Then you turned to them with that smile and Suguru lost it.

“What’s wrong with you?” He yelled, his voice echoing off the walls and converging on you. You looked shocked, eyebrows raised and faltering away from the pride to the confusion. He took in a shaky breath as he felt the built up anger from the past three weeks finally come up. “Do you have to throw yourself into danger like that?”

You frowned at him, then pathetically gestured at the curse. “It’s dead, isn’t it?”

Suguru pressed his hands against his face, letting out a deeply annoyed groan. “That’s not the point! The point is you threw yourself into its mouth! Like it was nothing!” He pushed himself forward to at least close the distance a little. Despite hearing Satoru’s soft protest, he needed to look you in the eye.

Your irritation was apparent as you furrowed your brow. “It doesn’t matter! Seriously, what’s your issue lately? You’ve been a complete asshole since that mission we went on. I thought you were just feeling bad for those kids, but you’ve acted completely different towards me!” Suguru could only clench his jaw at your obliviousness. There’s no way, right? There was absolutely no way you didn’t see what you were doing to them. To him. But when you said your next words, that thought was out the window. “Okay, so I threw myself into the middle of things, but so what?”

So what? So what. So fucking what?

Suguru felt something deep within him snap. As if there was a car underwater and the glass that was keeping the passengers safe suddenly cracked. His emotions, his clear mind, were the victims of the drowning. Buried deep under your ignorance.

“So what?” He snapped, his hands clenched into tight fists at his sides as he regarded you with unsettled rage. “So what? Are you serious? Like, are you dumb or are you just playing with me because I seriously can’t tell right now!”

You flinched at his tone and he could hear the shift of rubble behind him. “Suguru, hey—“ Satoru tried to de-escalate the situation but he was ignored.

“Excuse me?” You uttered, glaring up at him.

“Whenever we go on missions, you’re the first one throwing yourself at the thing like it isn’t serious. As if there’s not a high possibility that you’ll die! Every single time.” Suguru had a finger against your chest now. He wasn’t even sure when he had reached out, but he could feel the curse’s blood on his fingertip. It was cold and thick. Uncomfortable. But you were covered in it like it was nothing. Everything was nothing to you. “So, I’m asking you: are you dumb or just acting like you are?”

Your eyes were narrowed as you regarded him. “I know it’s dangerous, but sometimes that’s the only option.” Was all you had to say in response.

“You shouldn’t be the first one to die every time!” Suguru was desperate for his point to get across. For you to understand that it wasn’t the matter that it was dangerous— it was the fact that you were so willing and ready to have everyone live without you.

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” You frowned.

Just understand I care. That if you were to die right in front of my eyes, I’d lose it. I’ve only known you for ten months, but I can’t imagine a world where you’re dead. You’re one of my best friends— the first friend I ever made, please don’t make me live longer than you. Were all the selfish things that Suguru wanted to say. That he should’ve said.

Instead, he asked, “Do you just want to die?”

There was a very long silence that kept them all from moving.

The question was posed and he could see it in your eyes. Could hear it in the words you didn’t speak. You looked away from him, shame settled on your face. Suddenly, you looked small compared to your usual large and boisterous self. Have you always been this small? Or was this something he was just realizing now?

It settled in his mind, suddenly, that he was right. His assumptions, rash and brazen, were right.

It made him queasy, lightheaded, as he stared at you.

“Y/N…” He uttered with a pale face. He desperately wanted to reach out, to grasp your shoulder— make some type of contact. But his limbs wouldn’t move. He wasn’t even sure if he was breathing or blinking. His mind just repeated the one fact he knew over and over.

You wanted to die. You didn’t care if you died out there, alone, because it was all the same to you. You were waiting for death as it was waiting for you. Like an old friend. You wanted to die.

Suguru felt the overwhelming urge to cry as it all settled. “You want to die?” He couldn’t help the whisper as he stared at you in horror.

Your cheeks were a deep crimson red, tears pooling in your eyes as you took a step back from him. “It-It’s not like that.”

Suguru slowly shook his head. “Y-Yo—“ You shouldn’t feel like that. Is what he wanted to say. But what good would that do? You knew that. You probably prayed you didn’t every day.

“I just— you guys are so important to the school and-and to me! If you guys died, they’d be scrambling and a lot of people would probably suffer. But if I died, then who would even care—?”

“I would!” Suguru couldn’t help the tears that collected in his eyes. Here he was, almost 16, crying in front of you. But he needed you to know he cared. That life wouldn’t be the same without you gracing it. He reached forward, grabbing your hands in a vice like grip. “I would care! If you died I would be miserable and I would miss you like crazy. Don’t say no one would care because, if it doesn’t matter that I care, then everyone would. You’re important to everyone. You matter.”

Your eyes were on him now, wide and unsteady as you regarded him with confusion and disbelief. “Suguru—“

“We would all care. Satoru would be so annoying without your stupid quips. Shoko would be miserable if there wasn’t anyone to get her cigarettes when she forgets. And I…I would lose it if you were dead. I would. I would lose my mind, I’d do something crazy like… like leave everything behind.” It felt wrong to say. To put such weight on you, but he needed to know the role you played. How important you are. He clenched his jaw in determination, eye contact unwavering as he squeezed your hands. “I’ll prove it to you. I swear on it. I’ll spend the rest of our lives proving it to you.”

“Better than anything I could say.” He heard Satoru utter behind them, then the tell tale yelp that came after Shoko slapped him upside the head.

You didn’t let that distract you as you fell forward into his arms. Clutching at his uniform as you let out a small cry. He held you up and listened as you dumped years worth of pain into his chest. Suguru couldn’t ever recall seeing you like this before. He never really wanted to see it again. You didn’t say anything in response to his rather embarrassing ramble to you. No, not to that.

Instead, all you said in return was, “thank you.”

II. 2006

Suguru was in love with you and Satoru.

He realized it the afternoon in Okinawa, all of you walking through the aquarium as Riko pointed out various fish that she knew too much information about. Of course, he wasn’t listening. He was much too focused on you and Satoru. The both of you had snuck away to a gift shop— proclaiming that you needed mementoes and souvenirs for your friends back home. You adorned an octopus hat while Satoru had various fish stickers pressed to his cheeks. You both more resembled children on a field trip than highly esteemed sorcerers.

Suguru loved it. He loved you both.

It was a sudden and rather scary realization.

It came over him as you placed another sticker on Satoru's face. The both of you releasing absurd laughs that had no business sounding so lovely. He could feel the small smile blossom on his own lips as Satoru argued that he'd have the "gooey stuff" all of his face later, which made you promise to help him clean it off with a rag. Then you placed a delicate kiss against his cheek. It was so nonchalant, something they should all be used to, but it was always so jarring. Satoru stared at you with wide eyes behind his glasses, then he grinned. Wide and devious.

Suguru's heart soared.

He wanted nothing more than to reach out, to grab both of you and kiss you like there was no tomorrow. To promise his heart and his life to you both. It would be easy. It would be mere second nature to him. Suguru may just be realizing how deeply he loved you and Satoru, but he was almost sure that he'd felt this way since month five of your first year.

Surely, it shouldn't be a surprise. You three had been getting bold lately. Shoko was even commenting on it. The late nights in your room, the both of them curled up at your side. The domesticity of one of you returning to your dorm and being greeted by the other two. You all had a routine. A promise to come back through the door and have another fight of arguing over what's for dinner. Or something obscure that he wouldn't put up with with anyone else.

He just wanted to tell you and Satoru that he finally feels normal in the world. With you both by his side. That when he has your skin pressed against his, he feels like he could take on the world. That Satoru makes him feel childish and free like he couldn't be when he was a kid. That his kisses were sweet and soft. He just wanted to tell you that he loved you.

But Suguru saw your eyes stray away from Satoru's and the smile faded away. "We have to give her a choice." You said suddenly.

Both Satoru and Suguru moved their attention to Riko. The girl was standing in front of a expansive tank, watching in amazement as the fish zoomed by. The girl unaware of their watchful eyes as she turned to Kuroi and asked her to enjoy the fish too.

Suguru and Satoru had acknowledged that you were probably the last person who should be on this mission almost immediately. It wasn't that you weren't well fit for it, or that you would be too detached, or not want to get involved— it was that you had warmed up to Riko immediately. The girl had become your shadow. She asked about your technique and how "two idiots" like them were able to be in your presence. She amused you and you amused her. Then she asked you what you thought about her merger and you told her you thought it was something you shouldn't get involved in.

But Suguru and Satoru saw it in your eyes. They knew what you thought the moment Yaga had said the word "erase".

You wanted to save her.

"I knew you'd say that." Satoru snorted, leaning back against the tank they stood before. His eyes rolled upwards to look at the dolphin swim pass across from them. "You're always meddling."

You glared at him. "I don't meddle!"

"You do." Satoru said fondly. "What did I say, Suguru? They'd meet the girl and meddle, right?"

You snapped your eyes to Suguru who shyly stuck his hands in his pockets, shrugging. "You did say that." I did not. Suguru used kinder words— like you cared about Riko and you'd probably not want to see her throw away her barely lived life for Tengen-sama.

You pouted, picking at the railing next to Satoru. "Am I that predictable?"

"Only because we know you so well." Satoru teased with a small smile. Then his eyes cut back to Riko who was gradually making her way further down the area. As much as Satoru would deny it, Suguru could tell that he'd come to grow fond of the girl as well. "What do you propose we do, exactly?"

Now Suguru was looking back to you. He could see the shock in your eyes as they snapped up to Satoru— as if you couldn't believe he was playing into whatever ideas you were tossing around. There was a spark of hope in your eyes and Suguru had to look away to prevent the smile that wanted to spread across his face. Instead, he'd let his heart do that weird skip it usually did whenever you and Satoru were particularly adorable.

"All I want is for her to have a choice," Your voice was compassionate as you started. The look in your eyes distant as you turned your attention towards the small tank in front of you three. The portioned tank that had different beta fishes separated. Together they're deadly. Apart, they find peace. Riko had explained. "The way she's talked about everything... the merger with Tengen-sama— that's what she was born for. She's proud of it. But given the choice, she wanted to spend her last day with her friends. She wanted to go to school and hang out with them because she knew she'd never see them again. Instead of really wanting to do this, she's just doing it because she feels like she has to. Where's the freedom in that?"

Suguru smiled softly at you. "So we give her a choice." He agreed with a small nod, finding satisfaction with the brightness in your eyes.

"We'll have to fight Tengen, you know that?" Satoru kept his eyes steady on Riko as he questioned the two of you. Both of you blink, obviously not having considered that detail. "They'll put up a fight— probably other sorcerers too. Freeing Riko might mean we leave Jujutsu High."

Suguru let his mind wander. Would he really mind if the three of you left? Not really. If the three of you have to fight Tengen-sama, then he'd gladly fight them by your side. If you both wanted, he'd destroy the world. Then gladly live his final moments with you both at his side. That was a fact that he knew to be true in his soul.

"I'll gladly do so." You answered without hesitation. Of course you would, you self sacrificial fool. A bitter part of Suguru said. There was no question that you'd put your life on the line for Riko. "If her choice is to live life, then I'll fight Tengen."

"And you'll win?" Satoru asked.

You raised an eyebrow. "We're the strongest, aren't we? Us three?"

Something about your words made Suguru 100% sure that he wouldn't allow you both to walk alone in the world. Together, there wasn't anything you three couldn't take on.

Satoru finally turned from Riko to stare at you with a self assured smirk.

Oh, Suguru thought with a stutter in his heart. He'd already made up his mind before you did.

"Well, well! I thought you were above all that we're the strongest crap!" Satoru teased, throwing his arm around your shoulders as you rolled your eyes. "Don't be so entitled, Satoru. You're making Haibara and Nanami feel less than, Satoru. You sound ignorant, Satoru. Look who's high and mighty now!"

"Oh, stop!" You pushed his arm away, but your smile was fond. You turned back to the beta fish. "Sure, it's a little entitled, but right now, I'm being nice."

"Thank you, thank you, my beloved royalty." Satoru dramatically bowed before you. You uttered something about him being dramatic, which went ignored. The white haired sorcerer reached over and slapped Suguru's arm, peeking at him fondly from behind his glasses. "Suguru, bow for your deity!"

Suguru was about to decline, until you spoke up. "You're ridiculous, you know that? Don't do that." Suddenly, he felt inclined to follow suit.

Both of them were now bowed behind you, uttering their dramatic praises as you blushed, attempting to ignore them as people walked pass and stared. Suguru peeked up at you as you watched the beta fish swim around. In that moment, he prayed that nothing changed.

Things weren't right.

Things weren't right but you were so calm.

Silently, Suguru could only shoot a thankful glance in your direction as the elevator creaked under the strain of four people. He could tell you were worried but your expression was determined to stay pieced together. Satoru was above ground, fighting against that man— Suguru couldn't think about it. It was too much in the mess of things.

The elevator came to a screeching halt and there was no hesitation on your part to push the doors open. You seemed quicker, your movements a little stilted as you exited the elevator and, instead of looking at the three behind you, you kept your gaze on the various entrances. He could tell you were irritated. He could tell you were worried. Or nervous.

No, you were scared.

His attention turned towards Riko and Kuroi who were exchanging a heartfelt, tearful goodbye. They clutched onto each other— Kuroi told her to be brave and Riko promised she would. Then they separated and Suguru promised that he'd come back once everything was done to escort Kuroi to safety.

The trek to the Star Corridor was long and quite.

There wasn't much Suguru could say to comfort you because there wasn't much he could reassure himself with. His worries for Satoru were overbearing in his mind and he couldn't try and fool himself into trying to bear the weight of your anxiety as well. Both of you knew this, so you didn't dare try to comfort one another.

There's nothing wrong. Everything's going to be okay. We're the strongest. Satoru will join us once this is over. Were the things Suguru soothed himself with.

"Is this...?" Riko uttered as they finally broke through to the outskirts of where Tengen homes themself.

"Yes," Suguru confirmed as he came to a stop beside the younger girl. "We're just outside of where Master Tengen resides. This is the country's base for primary barriers. The main hall of the tombs of the Star Corridor."

"Basically, it's their home." You said flatly, coming to Riko's other side, your eyes moving over the vast area. It was quiet, dark, and looked isolated. Nothing that brought any welcomeness for the eternity to come.

Suguru tried not to let his gaze linger on the woeful look painting your face now. He cleared his throat and pointed. "Go down the stairs and pass the gate. Then head toward the base of that huge tree. It's protected by a different barrier than the one around Jujutsu High. Only those invited may enter. You'll be protected by Master Tengen until the merger."

Riko's expression turned sorrowful as she followed the path Suguru paved with her eyes. This was the end. Her fun and the little life she lived was at its finish. She clenched her hands at her sides and made a move to continue forward, without them.

"Or we can turn back and go home to Kuroi."

Riko's eyes snapped to you. Your eyes were compassionate and a small smile graced your features that was more reassuring than any words that could be spoken. She looked a little pale, but the glow of hope suddenly appeared.

"What?" The girl uttered.

You turned to her fully, keep your expression soft. "When our taecher assigned us this mission, he used the word 'erase'. It's like, deep down, he knew something was wrong with this and, for a muscle guy, he doesn't usually beat around the bush." You looked like you wanted to chuckle at your own jab at Yaga, but didn't have the energy. Instead, you sighed. "I talked to Suguru and Satoru and we all came to the decision that if the kid who is the Star Plasma Vessel should refuse the merger then we call it off."

Riko's eyes widened even further and tears were on the cusp of falling as she stared at the both of you.

"We're the strongest," Suguru offered gently, offering a closed eyed smile to the girl. "No matter what you choose, we promise to protect your future."

Riko's lips quivered as her eyes bounced between you two and the vast nothingness of Tengen's home. She took in a shaky breath. "Ever since I was born, I've been told I'm special and different. Being special was normal for me. I've survived till now by staying away from danger... My parents died in a car crash. I don't remember it. I'm not say or lonely anymore." She started to fiddle with her hands as her words grew more unsteady. You moved to press against her side, hands rested against her shoulders. "That's why... with the merger, I thought I'd be okay... leaving everyone. No matter how painful it became, I believed that, some day, the sadness and loneliness would disappear."

"You just need the right person." You uttered to her, her eyes snapping up at you as tears silently streamed down her face. "You need that one person to prove that there's beautiful things out there— that there's kindness and love. I know. I understand, Riko."

The girl bursts into tears, a trail of snot ran from her nose as she shook with her cries. "I want to stay with everyone a bit longer!" Her voice seemed to echo around the two of you. "I want to go to more places and see more things with everyone! More!"

Both you and Suguru smiled softly. His hand reached out while you squeezed her shoulders. "Riko, let's go home." He beckoned her forward.

"Yeah!"

Suguru registered the shot last second, but it was too late for him to truly do anything.

He's never quite seen anything like it.

You were smiling, you looked free from your worries for one second.

Then you were falling. Your face slack and eyes blank. You fell against the ground with a deafening thud. Blood pooled around your head, chunks of your brain scattered across the ground. Your eyes.

They're so blank.

Suguru barely registered Riko's scream. His eyes couldn't leave you even as the girl screamed and screamed, hands clutching at her head as she stared at your body beside her.

You were just speaking a moment ago. You were smiling. How could this happen?

Your eyes are so blank.

"Y-Y/N...." Suguru uttered, eyes wide and face pale.

He felt sick. He didn't feel right. This wasn't right. Why were you on the ground? Why were you bleeding? Why can't he move? Why can't he breathe? Are you going to get up? Please get up.

Riko continued to scream. She just wouldn't stop. Her once hopeful eyes were now reduced to horror and terror as she smeared the blood covering the side of her face. None of it hers.

It's yours.

Your eyes are blank.

What are you doing? Get up. Get up. Smile. Just breathe. Get up. Please, I'll do anything. I'll listen to you ramble about those books you love so much. I'll buy you those disgusting snacks you crave. I'll do anything for you.

Please don't die.

Your eyes are blank.

"Oh," groaned a voice that rattled Suguru's soul. "I missed."

Suguru slowly turned his head to stare at the man. The one that had stabbed Satoru through the chest and had talked to him like an old friend. The one that was now standing, clutching a gun in his hand, pouting as if he was amused by his miscalculation.

As if your death was something he hadn't accounted for.

"How..." Suguru's voice doesn't feel like his own. It feels like he's out of body. As if something else is controlling him. He felt something warm on his cheek, but he couldn't reach for it. His limbs felt heavy, his hands cold. What was happening? Why did everything feel so muddled? "How'd you get here?"

Still, Riko screamed.

Still, your eyes were blank.

The man frowned. "How...?" Suddenly, he chuckled and pressed the side of the gun to his temple. "I see. I killed Gojo Satoru."

Suguru was swarmed with an unfamiliar feeling of rage. You and Satoru had once praised him for his ability to remain calm and level headed when things seemed to crumbled around all of you. He was the voice of reason— your moral compass. The map that lightened your way.

Suddenly, he felt like he was reduced to nothing but rage and this empty feeling in his chest.

Your eyes are blank.

Gojo Satoru is dead.

"I see..." Suguru growled, his eyes unmoved from the man across from him. "Then die!"

III. 2007

Suguru didn't feel right.

Although, he hadn't felt right for 11 months. 47 weeks, and five days. 8,016 hours. 480,960 minutes. 28,857,600 seconds.

He hadn't been right since the moment you dropped dead.

Your eyes were blank.

He wasn't enough to fight against Fushiguro Toji. The man had ruthlessly downed him then killed Riko. It was like it was nothing. He came, he killed, then he left.

Suguru had laid amongst the rubble of Toji's doing and stared into your blank eyes. He still wasn't sure how long it was. He couldn't move and he could barely breathe as the blood from his chest trickled to the stone and concrete under him. Your eyes stared lifelessly into his own. Endlessly. A never-ending staring contest that he pleaded to end.

The entire time he laid on the floor of Tengen's barrier. His mind only repeated one thing.

Please get up. Please be alive. Please get up. Please get up.

Your brains had scattered across the floor and your eyes were unmoving but he spent so much time just pleading with you to snap out of it. He thought he was enough. He apologized for not being enough.

Please get up. I promised to prove it to you.

There was a point he passed out. He could remember thinking, thankfully, that he was going to die. And he swore he heard your gurgled call for him.

Then, he woke up.

Shoko had looked distraught. He could still remember the way she eyed him wearily through red rimmed eyes. Cautious as she told him that you were dead. As she told him Satoru was gone.

Gone. But not dead.

Suguru had, very briefly, rejoiced in Satoru's survival.

Shoko said she cleaned your blood off his cheek.

Suguru hated her for a while after that.

He didn't stay at the infirmary for long. Despite Shoko telling him that Yaga wanted to see him and that he shouldn't move around yet, he dragged himself away. He dragged himself to the cult. He dragged himself along the side walk with his mind flashing with images of your blank eyes.

Was that all death was? Nothingness? Did it comfort you? Did it welcome you? Was it everything you imagined?

His mind wouldn't rest.

He could remember as he entered the building. As he heard the resounding and endless applause. He mindlessly entered and was meant with a never-ending crowd, parting as they just clapped, and clapped, and clapped. It rumbled through his ears, bouncing around his brain.

Your eyes were blank.

When the crowd parted, he remembered the clench of his heart as Satoru, bloodied and blank, appeared. He carried Riko's body in his arms. Lifelessly moving forward. His eyes stared right through Suguru.

"You're late," Satoru had teased blankly. His voice distant and flat. It missed its usual punch. "No.... I guess your're early."

Suguru remembered the confusion that washed over him as he stared at the one he loved. "Satoru... is that you...?"

What happened to you?

"It looks like you saw Shoko." Satoru had sounded like he wasn't entirely aware of his surroundings. Or he didn't care. "Is Y/N there right now?"

Suguru didn't have the heart then. He could remember silently apologizing to you, but he hadn't thought Satoru could handle the news of your death amongst this room.

"Shoko fixed me up fine." His eyes had moved to Riko's limp hand and he felt sick. Her screams were still in his mind. He almost threw up. "I'm sorry."

"I'm the one who messed up. Don't worry about it." Satoru had easily deflected.

Suguru couldn't handle the clapping. They just didn't stop. They clapped, and clapped, and clapped.

Your eyes were blank.

"Suguru," Satoru's voice had stopped him in his tracks. His voice was so detached and so odd. Suguru couldn't handle much change then. He couldn't handle hearing Satoru so different. Not then. "Do you want to kill them all?"

Suguru could remember the shock that shook his body. Could remember the bitterness that immediately followed. The realization that he would love nothing more than to unleash the worst on these people and sum their deaths up as their lives— useless.

"Suguru," He had sworn he heard your voice, distorted and all too sweet. His back stiffened and his eyes widened. "Do you hate them, Suguru?"

He did. He hated them. He wanted them all to burn. He wanted them to suffer. Suguru would've loved nothing more than to have heard all of them plead for their lives. To have the same terror that Riko had when she realized her life was coming to an end. To have that same blank look in their eyes as you had.

Your eyes were blank.

"It's pointless." Suguru had shot down emotionless. He still wasn't sure if he was answering that tiny voice in his head or Satoru, maybe it was both. Who really cared?

"Pointless, huh?" Satoru walked past Suguru and started to make his way outside. "Does there need to be a reason?"

"Of course, it's important." Suguru had easily answered. "Especially as Jujutsu Sorcerers."

11 months. 47 weeks, and five days. 8,016 hours. 480,960 minutes. 28,857,600 seconds later, he believed that was all bullshit.

It surprised him how much and how little could change in a year.

The way everyone seemingly returned to normal and he was left in the past.

Suguru felt like his life was now segregated into two sections: Before the Star Plasma Vessel assignment and after the Star Plasma Vessel assignment. Before and after you.

He realized, quickly and bitterly, that the after you was worse than the before.

Before he knew of your existence, he was happy to be alone. He embraced the fact that kids at school thought him odd, unapproachable. That they would whisper about his habits behind his back. He was happy to know that no one wanted to be around him. It meant they didn't see what he saw. He didn't know anything else.

But the after you was considerably worse.

You had given him that breath of fresh air. That love that he had unknowingly reached out for his entire life. The way you and Satoru had touched him, he didn't even know his heart ached for that type of love. He didn't know he was depraved until you showed him.

He hated it. For a moment, he hated you.

In the first weeks after your death, he felt angry. He was bitter. Even as Satoru rubbed his back in bed. Even as he told Suguru it wasn't his fault. Even as everyone told him that you would hate to see him like that. He felt a hatred. A regret.

For months, he hated you.

He'd ignore topics centered around you. He ignored the day that Shoko and Satoru cleaned out your dorm for a new first year. He was stagnant and blank at the funeral your family held. When everyone walked up to recall memories about you, he didn't. He just listened and he thought that none of them truly captured you. They said you were kind, that you were funny, that you went our of your way to help whoever needed it.

If it was Suguru up there, he would've said you were selfish. That you always put your life on the line when it wasn't needed. That you were arrogant. That you could really make him worry.

But he loved you.

That's what he hated most. Isn't that the worst?

He hated that he loved the way he missed your hugs, your reassurances. He hated that he missed worrying about you. That he wouldn't ever see you again. That he wouldn't join you on a mission and be forced to listen to Yaga or fellow students worry about your sanity. He missed that sometimes you would play into Satoru's words, like saying the three of you were strongest together.

"Hey," Satoru called from across the training yard. Suguru barely looked up. "Have you lost some weight? Are you okay?"

Satoru became "The Strongest". His abilities were starting to blossom and it allowed him to work by himself. The higher-ups sent them alone. And Suguru hadn't felt more confined in his life.

"I'm just a little tired from the summer heat." Suguru easily explained it away, his hands buried deep within his pockets. "It's not a problem."

"Maybe you had too much somen noodles?" Satoru asked, niavely.

"No," Suguru wanted to snap at him. "It's the fact I can't eat without feeling sick. I can't taste anything except the fucking vomit of the curses. I hate it. I hate it. I'm always sick. I'm so hungry. But I can't eat."

Instead, he sighed. "Maybe."

The curse population was springing up like maggots. Everywhere and all consuming. The summer had been busy and Suguru truly was tired. In his heart, he started to blame the mess of last year for the increase of curses. It was easier to blame that than nothing. It was better to put a face to his suffering rather than blame himself.

The repetitiveness of his life was becoming crushing.

An endless cycle of exorcism and consumption.

Exorcise. Consume.

You had once asked him what curses tasted like. Under a beautiful tree and a beautiful night sky. You stared at him from your place on the ground. "Suguru, what does it taste like?"

"It's a taste nobody knows." He had explained. "Like ingesting a rag used to wipe up vomit."

Exorcise. Consume.

"Oh," You had uttered, a heavy frown on your lips as you pondered on it. "I'm sorry."

Exorcise. Consume.

He didn't need your pity then. But it had been nice. It felt nice for someone to pretend they understand the disgust, the bitter tang. He pretended that it helped.

"Thanks."

Then, you asked, "Would it help if you had mints?"

No. "Yes."

That first Christmas you all spent together, you got him mints. And, despite it doing nothing, he still popped one in his mouth every time. False hope that something could push down the disgust he had for his technique, for what he was considered special for. What lengths he went to save people.

For what?

Every since that day, the day you and Riko died, it's been running through Suguru's head. That everything he saw, Toji, your blood, your brains, the never-ending applause of the cult members— it was a hideous evil known to everyone. What he saw wasn't anything out of the ordinary. Still, knowing that, he protects them as a Jujutsu sorcerer.

"We can't lose our way." You had reassured one day when the curse you and him were fighting was particularly ruthless. It had killed so many people that the both of you hadn't been the same for weeks. "Don't lose your way. We just have to follow through with our duty as sorcerers."

The thunderous applause took over that of his heart.

"Monkeys." Suguru uttered in the shower. The first time he whispered it. His eyes unmoving from the wall as the water trickled down, down, and down.

Your eyes were blank.

"Do you hate them, Suguru?"

His hand clenched above him. "Fucking monkeys."

He snapped the water off and robotically dried himself off.

Suguru felt like he was merely living through the motions. That he was being guided other peoples words and the wind itself. He was merely a leaf being blown away. There wasn't anything he could do to stop it. Nothing he could do to ground himself and force himself to take the wheel. To be in control. He could only watch on.

He found himself hunched over on the bench near the vending machines. He barely acknowledged the rain that poured outside. It was one of those days. Those days where the weather matched his mood and made it considerably worse. Maybe he could get away with hiding inside his dorm. Being curled on the bed and not appearing until the rain was well gone— when Satoru couldn't ask him if he's ate.

He closed his eyes in defeat. How could loneliness possibly feel worse now than it did then? He'd been alone for years before. Why was it worse now?

"Hi! Mister Geto!"

Suguru's eyes snapped open and dragged upwards. "Haibara..."

You liked Haibara. You said so on his first day. When he enthusiastically introduced himself to everyone— gave his blood type and his family history. You had laughed for twenty minuets. You said that Haibara was like a breath of fresh air. He had no idea what he was getting into and he was happy. Suguru said you were looking into it too much. You didn't agree. Then you invited both him and Nanami to join you all on a trip to Shinjuku.

You liked Haibara. He was sweet.

You liked Haibara. So did Suguru.

"Hope all is well!" Haibara continued, seemingly ignorant to the war raging on in Suguru's mind.

You liked Haibara. You trained him. He was sweet.

So did Suguru. "What can I get you to drink?" Suguru asked, pulling some change from his pockets.

"I couldn't possibly—" Haibara's eyes glanced at the vending machine then his eyes brightened. "I'll take a coke!"

Suguru couldn't help the little laugh that broke through his lips. Amusement in his eyes for the first time in a while as he gently dropped the change into the junior's cupped palm. Haibara pratically skipped over to the vending machine, dropping the coins in, and retrieved his coke.

Fully expecting him to carry on with a thanks, Suguru was a little surprised that he sat down beside him and smiled big.

"My mission tomorrow is pretty far away." The boy started, wiggling with excitement.

Suguru smiled softly. "That so? I'll be expecting a souvenir then."

"You got it! Something sweet or savory?"

"Satoru will probably have some too, so maybe something sweet."

This was the normal. It felt refreshing for everything to be so normal. A silent agreement amongst the second and third years to get everyone who asked a souvenir from their respective mission areas. It made for interesting foods or items. Silly things that he could place on his shelf or for him to take a bite and Satoru to steal the rest. Usually complaining about how no one ever gets him anything. Just like Okinawa when you picked that hat—

Your eyes were empty.

Suguru's smile faded away.

"Haibara..." He spoke, not entirely aware if his junior was speaking before he was. But Haibara's eyes moved to him with curiosity. He bowed his head once again. "Are you okay with being a Jujutsu sorcerer? Doesn't it bother you?"

Immediately, the junior took the question seriously. His chin rested between his finger and thumb, eyes narrowed in thought. "Hm... good question..." He uttered, a vague pout on his lips. "I'm not really the type to think too hard about things..."

"I don't think we should underestimate Haibara or Nanami." You had defended the two new boys against Satoru's beratement one day. Your eyes cut to where they were practicing against Yaga's cursed dolls. "We all started somewhere. I'm sure they'll surprise us one day."

"Giving my all toward something I know I can help with is a great feeling!" Haibara finally answered, snapping his fingers and looking at Suguru head on.

Suguru couldn't help the way his eyes widened. For whatever reason, his answered shocked him. It was a pure answer. Further proof that Suguru was different from everyone else. Proved that he was slowly losing a part of himself. Haibara hadn't been graced with the same tragedy he had. He didn't know the cruelty of people and was still hopeful.

"I see..." Suguru uttered, looking away once again.

"You're right." Spoke another voice that neither of them know. Both of the boys looked over to the woman that stood a few feet from them. She was tall, long blonde hair and she wore a smile on her face. "Are you Geto? What kind of girls are you into?"

Your eyes were blank.

He only stared in return.

"I like girls with healthy appetites!" Haibara answered happily.

Suguru frowned. "Haibara."

"It's fine!" He turned to Surguru with a bright light in his eyes. "She's not a bad person. I'm a pretty good judge of character!"

Suguru felt something in his chest shift.

"Do you hate them, Suguru?"

"You say that while sitting next to me?" He uttered, sparing the junior a sidelong glance.

"Of course!" Haibara didn't hesitate.

The woman laughed, resting a hand on her hip. "He was being sarcastic, kid!"

No, I'm not. Suguru almost felt compelled to say. But he didn't have the energy. There wasn't any point in arguing with this stranger either. She didn't know him and he didn't know her. Something he would happily continue to stay true.

Embarrassed, Haibara excused himself with the woman quickly taking his spot. In an instant, Suguru drew back and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Is he your junior? Such an honest and cute kid."

Suguru couldn't help the distasteful glare he sent from the side. "As a jujutsu, he shouldn't be so trusting." He said bitterly.

The woman looked a little discouraged by his little jab, but continued on. "And you, Geto? Are you going to answer my question?"

"Answer mine first— who are you?"

The woman raised her chin, a small smirk on her lips. "Special grade sorcerer Yuki Tsukumo. Ring a bell?"

"You're the...?"

Yes. Yes, it did. Suguru thought bitterly.

He could distinctly recall you rambling on about Tsukumo. On how you wished you could be like her. Someone highly recognized and didn't care what the higher-ups said— just lived her life. To Suguru, it sounded like Tsukumo was kind of a failure. But to you, it was as if she was a symbol of something amazing. Proof that something that was suddenly attainable to you.

Suguru had been convinced you just had a crush on her.

"Nice! The what?"

Suguru clenched his jaw at her interruption of his thoughts. "The no-good special grade who doesn't take on any missions and just bums around overseas." He informed her flatly.

The woman's smile slipped away and she pouted heavily. "I hate Jujutsu High!" She fell back, her elbows rested on the back of the bench. She sulking. "Just kidding. But I'm not lying when I say we don't see eye-to-eye. What they do here is treat symptoms. What I want is to get at the root cause."

Suguru couldn't help perking up with interest. "The root cause?" He asked slowly.

"I don't want to exorcise curses after they appear. I want a world where curses don't even exist."

He stared at her in shock. A world without curses? He felt like he could almost rejoice. His heart gave a little skip and he almost felt like things were normal.

"How about a little lesson? Tell me, what are curses anyway?"

He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. "Curses are created when cursed energy leaks from humans. It then gathers like sediment and takes form." He answered easily. It was something taught in their first year, something everyone knows.

"Excellent," Tsukumo encouraged, nodding. "If that's the case, there are two ways to create a world where curses no longer exist: one, eradicate cursed energy from all humanity. Two, teach humans how to control their cursed energy. The first one's not a bad idea. There was a model case for it after all."

"A model case?"

"Someone you're familiar with: Zen'in Toji."

Almost instantly, Suguru felt an anger rush over him. Toji. That was someone else that he tried to avoid thinking about. Usually, it only led to thoughts darker than when he thought about you. He thought about the various things he would've done to Fushiguro if given the chance. The slow and torturous death he would've given to him if he had the chance. He doubted it would eat away the hatred in his heart, but Suguru would take anything to have him suffer as you did. As he did.

"There have been several cases where heavenly restriction has reduced a person's cursed energy to normal levels. But to eradicate one's cursed energy completely... I've searched all over the world, and he's the only one who's ever done it. But that's not the only thing that's interesting about him. Despite not having cursed energy, Zen'in Toji was able to sense curses using his five sense. By eliminating all cursed energy, his body became sharpened to the point where he developed a resistance to curses."

A part of Suguru really wanted to tell Tsukumo that he didn't care. That monster died and he was glad to hear it. Even if he was the only way to get rid of curses, he was overjoyed that the man was dead now.

"Don't feel bad about losing him." Suguru scoffed, face blank. "I wanted to research him but he blew me off. It's too bad he died."

You smiled at Riko. You held her shoulders. You were going to take her home.

Your eyes were blank.

I killed Gojo Satoru.

"Cases of heavenly restriction are few and far between. So my focus is on two." Tsukumo seemed completely unaware of Suguru's mind raging on while she spoke. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. "Did you know, jujutsu sorcerers don't give birth to curses?"

That snapped Suguru out of his thoughts. He slowly dragged his eyes to stare at the side of the woman's head as she carried on.

"Of course, that's excluding cases where sorcerers become curses after death—" Do you hate them, Suguru? "—The amount of cursed energy that leaks from sorcerers, compared to from non-sorcerers, is extremely low. There is a difference in how much we consume and use cursed energy because of our profession. But the real reason lies in how it flows through us. For sorcerers, it flows heavily within us. If we're talking general terms— if every single human became a jujutsu sorcerer, no curse would ever be born again."

Suguru's world as he knew it, paused.

The thunderous applause returned. The cheers as Satoru carried Riko's body through the crowd.

The deafening thud of your body as you fell lifelessly to the ground. Riko's scream as your blood painted half of her face. The way his heart echoed against his head as he stared.

You eyes were blank.

Those people. Humans. Non-sorcerers. They created the world that killed you. They created a world where he was alone.

Do you hate them, Suguru?

"Then why not just kill every non-sorcerer?" He asked softly, not daring to lift his head or eyes from between his feet.

There was a silence between the two of them that made him tense up. He said something wrong. But why didn't it feel wrong? Why didn't the suggestion disgust him or make him sweat? Why did it feel like an idea that was meant to be said?

"Geto," Tsukumo finally spoke, voice slow and calculated. "That is an option."

What?

"In fact, that might be the easiest route!"

Suguru slowly lifted his eyes from the floor and stared at the woman next to him with wide eyes. Now, he felt it. He felt the sweat on his brow. It's an option. "What?" He uttered, tilting his head to try and meet her eye as she stared into the distance. "Um..."

"Weed out non-sorcerers and make them adapt to a jujutsu sorcerer based society. In other words, forced evolution. Kinda like how birds grew wings. Using dear and danger as a catalyst."

It's an option. Suguru couldn't shake his stare. He was holding his breath and just staring at her.

"But," There it is. "I aint' that crazy."

She looked amused, but she didn't know him. She didn't know his feelings and the fact that he hated—

"Do you hate non-sorcerers, Geto?" She asked it sincerely.

Do you hate them, Suguru?

His eyes went back the floor, ashamed. "I don't know." He started with a whisper. "I used to think jujutsu sorcerers existed to protect non-sorcerers. But recently, I've been doubting whether non-sorcerers are worth fighting for. The preciousness of the weak. The ugliness of the weak. I can no longer tell the difference. The part of me that looks down on non-sorcerers.... the part of me that tries to resist that feeling...."

The thunderous applause returned. The cheers as Satoru carried Riko's body through the crowd.

The deafening thud of your body as you fell lifelessly to the ground. Riko's scream as your blood painted half of her face. The way his heart echoed against his head as he stared.

You eyes were blank.

"If being a jujutsu sorcerer is like running a marathon, then the finish line is too unclear." Suguru placed a hand against his forehead, hairs tangled between his fingers. "I don't know what I really feel."

"It's understandable, you know?" Suguru glanced at her with a frown as she eyed him contemplatively. "You watched your friend die, right? It's never easy. Messes you up. I'm sure I don't have to tell you."

You don't.

"Death and mourning something can really conjuring some nasty things in your mind. Like killing non-sorcerers— you want to take that anger out on someone. The anger for your friend's life being taken away." She explained it like it was so easy, as if she knew his next steps when he did not. "But looking down on non-sorcerers... resisting that feeling... those are just possibilities you've thought of. Whatever your true feeling is, you still have to decide."

The conversation didn't lead to anywhere else and Suguru was feeling himself grow more tired the more he stayed away from his dorm. He was about to excuse himself when Tsukumo asked for him to follow her out. She didn't say much on the way out and Suguru was grateful for it.

The woman got on her bike and waved at him. "I'll see ya! I was hoping to say hi to Gojo as well. Bad timing, I guess." She slid her goggles on. "As fellow special grade sorcerers, let's all three of us get along, okay?"

Suguru gave her his best smile, which wasn't much. "I'll send you regards to Gojo."

Tsukumo smiled, starting up her bike. She was about to ride off when she looked back at him. "One last thing. Don't worry about what happened with the Star Plasma Vessel. Whether there was another vessel or another vessel was born— whatever happened, Tengen is stabilized."

He didn't think it possible, but his hatred grew. Tengen is stabilized.

The thunderous applause returned. The cheers as Satoru carried Riko's body through the crowd.

The deafening thud of your body as you fell lifelessly to the ground. Riko's scream as your blood painted half of her face. The way his heart echoed against his head as he stared.

You eyes were blank.

Tengen is stabilized.

Suguru bowed his head as she drove off. "I figured."

What the fuck had you died for, anyway?

Haibara was dead and he'd seen the body. The entire time Suguru thought of you.

As Nanami attempted to hold back tears, as he explained that they were caught off guard by a special grade, Suguru saw you in Haibara's place.

Both of you victims of a system created to protect people who weren't grateful. Who didn't even know you exist. People who had spared both of you not a single glance despite being so caring, so selfless. Who were they to put this unbearable burden on everyone's shoulders then act like you were different?

Haibara was sweet. You liked him. So did Suguru.

Haibara was dead. So were you. Suguru felt hatred build in him.

As he stared at Haibara's bloodied face, he had thought one thing: who would suffer for this death?

Gojo completed the mission. Gojo exorcised the curse. Gojo. Gojo. Gojo. Gojo.

Gojo.

Why should Gojo be the one wrecking havoc? When it was Suguru that was filled with rage? When he was the one that wanted nothing more than to harm the ones that caused this all?

Do you hate them, Suguru?

"What is this?" Suguru asked slowly, staring at the sight before him.

Two girls seemingly coward away from him. Their faces bloodied and bruised. The cage that contained them offered no comfort. Just the cold hard ground and the darkness. They shook under his gaze and he couldn't find it in himself to look away. He couldn't turn around and question the people behind him. He did not know what he'd do if he looked them in the eyes as they explained themselves.

"What do you mean? These two are responsible for the incident, right?" Asked one man.

Suguru clenched his jaw. "No, they are not."

"These two possess strange powers and often attack the villagers."

This was of your own creation.

"I already dealt with the cause for the incident."

"My grandchild nearly died because of these two!" Protested the elderly woman as if she realized that Suguru wasn't going to believe these two were responsible.

The blonde child leaned forward. "That was because they—"

"Shut up you monsters!"

"Your parents were the same! I knew we should've killed you when you were born!"

As the two adults berated the children, Suguru came to a decision. His heart was no longer torn in two. As he stared at the girl's, his resolution was made.

He lifted his finger and a shadowed curse sprouted. "It-It'll be okay..." The girls stared at him with wide eyes, almost relieved. If he were a different man. If he in a different mindset then, he would've cried over the relief that washed over them. "Do...Don't worry... it'll be o-okay."

He ignored how familiar the voice was, how familiar the words were. He'd grown used to finding something that wasn't there in the curses he had collected. The fact that the ones he barely manifested were the ones that sounded like you the most.

Suguru turned around to the villagers and smiled. One that he hadn't managed to conjure up in some time.

"Let's step outside for a moment, shall we?"

The two followed him out and Suguru wasn't sure what words he said, what movement he made, but he could see the horror in their eyes. As he manifested his beloved curses, the one people like them had created, he felt an anger bubble up. Emotions that he had desperately pushed aside in an attempt to continue his life were now running their way to the forefront of his mind.

The grief of losing you. The anger of the complete disregard of you life by the society as a whole. The fact that there was nothing left of you now. Nothing—

"Suguru, do you hate them?"

His body stiffened. His wide eyes dragged from the horrified, begging people before him, to over his shoulder. The shadow that loomed over him now.

He'd read about this before. It was some obscure book he found while researching previous curse manipulators. It talked about various things that he used to prove to Yaga that he was learning something. One section had piqued his interest, but it was never information that he'd use in random day-to-day. Vengeful spirits. Usually, this only happened after sorcerers die without jujutsu being used against them. Their very soul and spirit is corrupted and transformed into something horrible. Something darker than who they truly were in life.

As Suguru stared at the spirit before him now, he knew what he had inadvertently done to you. The way your large body curled around him, wisps of what should be hair floating above you, your body clad in an open and flowing kimono. What caught his eyes the most, were your own eyes. Despite being almost invisible, he was relived. They were not blank. Instead, they looked like they burned with the rage he had held back for years.

It was as if you were the extension of his very soul.

"It should be noted that if you find yourself attached to a vengeful spirit: You must establish a clear master/servant bond. As the spirit is attached to your own soul, they musn't be allowed to overcome you. If exorcism is not an option, then create a clear set of rules. Summon them only when necessary. Vengeful spirits are not to be taken lightly."

"Suguru, do you hate them?" Your eyes did not leave his.

This time, he didn't hesitate nor lie. "Yes."

He heard them whimper in fear.

You moved unnaturally, but he didn't care. "Do you want them to die, Suguru?"

His eyes narrowed. "Yes."

Your hand rested on his shoulder and he didnt even care if your talon like nails dug into his flesh. He watched, awestruck, as you turned your feral gaze onto the cowering villagers. "Can I hurt them for you, Suguru?"

Despite your state, despite what it meant for him, he couldn't help but feel the warmth blossom through his chest. He basked in the feeling of your brushed against his shoulder.

"Yes."

An unnatural smile creeped over your face and your shot forward, now clutching your katana.

All Suguru could think was: you're back.

"Suguru....what have you done?"

Geto adjusted his gojogesa with a emotionless mask over his face. The bags that had adorned his eyes for the past year were mostly gone. He was finally able to eat. His mind wasn't constantly ringing with that thunderous applause or the thud of your body. Instead, he was free. There was silence.

Except whenever you spoke.

"Where did you get that energy? Suguru, answer me!"

He had seen Gojo a week ago. He had said his goodbyes, vaguely masked as threat. Geto knew what they were now. Enemies by default. He knew it couldn't be long before the higher-ups found out about the village— known exactly what he'd become that night. He was a curse user.

God, was that a great feeling.

Geto was giddy that night. He couldn't help the giddiness he felt with his freedom. The happiness he felt as he held Nanako and Mimiko in his arms, trekking through the woods to the main street where he dragged them to his parent's house. That whole situation had been something in itself. Their anger, their confusion, the heartbreak for not understanding their son anymore.

Geto had simply taken what he needed for the twins, then left you to take care of his parents.

"You feel it, don't you, Gojo? You see them."

There was an assortment of things that Geto found himself doing after he defected. He suddenly found himself in the place of taking care of two twin girls that clung to his clothes and followed his every word like he was the Buddha guiding them towards enlightenment. There big eyes screamed the thank you's that he did not need or would accept. Still, he could tell that they were trying to prove that they were useful to him. Whatever that meant coming from a pair of 6 year olds.

The second thing he'd started was taking over the Star Plasma Religious Group. Although he heard they had disbanded a year prior, it appeared that they were just absorbed by another money hungry fool scamming them for every last cent they had. Not that he was about to go bad mouthing other people's methods for something he was about to do himself. It was surprisingly easy to take over a religious group when you had a vengeful spirit hanging off of you. The men, although easy to get on his side, he still killed. There was no point to their existence now. Not when he had his own plans outside from worshipping the likes of Tengen.

The last thing he was taking care of was you.

"....What did you do?"

"Nothing. I did nothing. They're was always with me."

Geto's adventure back into the books covering vengeful spirits was actually welcomed this time around. As a younger student, he hadn't really cared to think about what would happen to him if he happened to die in a terribly normal way. But now it was something he regarded with the utmost fascination. The different descriptions of vengeful spirits made him ponder exactly what you were.

Violent and seeking revenge. Sad and lost. Unaware they're dead and seeking guidance. Plague that spreads death, leeching off certain hosts. Clingy, they seek approval from the attached for their actions. These spirits had a connection with the host in their life and feel something unfinished in their death.

He could remember the look in Gojo's eyes as his eyes strained to look over Geto's shoulder. The fear and the realization that washed over him. The anger in his eyes as he seemed to grieve over not only Suguru, but you as well. The waver in his voice as he asked Geto what he had done. It almost made Geto feel bad.

Almost.

Gojo had his life laid out for himself. The higher-ups knew what they could do with him. He was practically bred and born for his role amongst everything. He'd live and die the jujutsu society. Something that always unsettled Suguru, but something Geto accepted. He came second. Last compared to jujutsu.

At least he had you. It was you and him first. Then Gojo. He could make this work again. He wouldn't let anything happen to you again.

Geto shifted his attention elsewhere as he flattened his robes.

God, he really did look the part now, didn't he? Except, maybe, the hair. But he wasn't doing anything about it.

"This place is still a religious group to the public, are you okay with that?" Asked one of the nameless faces that Geto would encounter in his life.

He over looked the stage before him with a flat expression. "As long as I can collect curses and money, that's all right." He reassured.

The man frowned, looking at Geto with some vague confusion. "Are you really going out there like that?"

He let a grin spread across his lips. "Why not? Bluffing and looking the part is important."

"Master Geto..."

He spared the twins a soft glance, a reassuring smile gracing his features. He reached down and ruffled their hair gently. "Be sure to watch closely." He whispered to them, watching with a warmth in his heart as they smiled and giggled at one another. "Have they gathered?"

"Directors, representatives. The chairman. And a lot more money waiting."

Geto grinned, taking the microphone from the man, and making his way out onto the stage.

The last time he'd been in the building they were giving a thunderous applause for Riko's death and, by extension, yours. He had been waiting a year to see them all again. To look them in the eyes and find a proper way to make them suffer. To make them feel the same fear or suffering that you and Riko had in your last moments.

"Can everyone hear me? Thank you for waiting, I'll keep this short." He announced as he came to a stop before them all. Nameless faces, judgmental side eyes, questionable whispers to one another. They did not remember Suguru. But he would make sure they remembered Geto. "As of this moment, this group is mine. We'll have a new name as well. You all will obey me."

Instantly, there was a scattered rise of opposition in the crowd.

Geto's grin faltered as he listened to the various questions of exactly who was he made their way to him. He could hear the anger and the confusion. His frustration heightened.

"Well, isn't that a shame." He dragged a hand over his face, eyes grazing the crowd before he grinned one more. He tried to look as inviting as he could, waving a hand at one man in particular. "Mister Sonoda! Could you please come up to the stage? Yes, that's right, you!"

As the older man stood from his seat and hobbled his way up, Geto narrowed his eyes. Despite his smile, his eyes couldn't hide the contempt and the hatred he had for the man before him. He could see that he noticed in the way he faltered on the steps. But pushed through and stood by Geto's eyes.

He made eye contact with Sonoda, then— "Y/N."

He found it easy to summon you. To watch you tear away at the man who had so brazenly ordered Riko's death. To listen to the garbled expressions of hatred you exclaimed as you tore his enemies limb-by-limb. It felt like it was some form a justice. To finally see the horror in their eyes, the blankness of it all. Bittersweet for him to watch.

However, he couldn't stand there and watch you in awe forever. He had people to take under his control.

Geto turned his attention back to the crowd. Satisfaction grew in his chest as he saw the horror and shock fall over their faces. Easily, Geto threw the microphone away.

"Now then, let's try this again." He scowled at the crowd, feeling you loom over his shoulder once again. He used his thumb to brush away some of the blood. "Obey me, monkeys."

III. 2015

"Are you mad at me, Suguru?"

Things had been going smoothly for Geto in the past eight years.

The cult, because that's what he considered it, was running finely. Those who owed money, gave it to him, or else. Those who followed, followed with loyalty, or else. Those who served no purpose, were dealt with. He had created a normal amongst the congregation. A standard that he himself had wanted to watch them scramble to keep. A constant state of panic or devotion for them that fed into his, honestly, growing ego.

Things like his family kept him rather humble.

The girls had grown accustomed to their lives with Geto. They seemed to thrive and love under his care. All of them had grown to a routine that they cherished with one another. They even seemed accustomed to you. The fear and confusion of others wasn't found in their eyes or hearts. Geto never properly explained what happened after death if certain things didn't take place, but they understood anyone. They knew you were important to him— by extension making you important to them.

The other members of the family— Laure, Miguel, Manami, Toshihisa— had a vague understanding of exactly what a vengeful spirit entailed. Although, they weren't jumping at the opportunity to really talk about it. Laure had attempted once, but the conversation died out quickly due to the look on Geto's face. The man was quick to drop the topic once he saw the expression painting the leader's face. Allegedly, he looked ready to kill.

Earlier that day, though, Miguel was braver. And Geto was in a far clearer mood.

"How did it happen?" The man's deep voice asked gently from where he sat across from Geto. Once the confusion set in of his sudden question, he raised an eyebrow at the apparent shadow rested behind his chair. "How did they get cursed?"

Geto himself had thought about it for years. He wondered what point you had been damned blessed to be attached to his soul even after death. It took him a long time. In the mix of things, death and decay, the sharp turn of his ideals— he had barely any time to really think about what made you this spirit clinging onto his life.

Some books said that it could be the connection shared by the host and spirit before death. Others said that hosts had the ability to curse the spirit themselves. That their desperation and their inability to let go was the true reason that sorcerers would live on as something horrible. Something completely opposite as to who they were in life.

He had pushed the thoughts away before they could ever really come to fruition. The possibility that he had been the one to create you into this. The thought alone was enough to twist his stomach. So instead he ignored it. He lived in blissful ignorance.

"Just happens sometimes after death." Geto answered flatly, turning his attention back to his book. He knew there was curiosity amongst his family to know things about you. Afterall, you were considered a part of the family, but there was simply no room to have conversation with you. You either grew hostile or confused and sought Geto out for answers. "Sorcerers whenever they're killed by a non-curse way or something another.

"Hm," Miguel's hum had remained unconvinced as his eyes trailed back to you. As your fingers hovered over the corner of the seat, but you didn't peek out. "There was a couple in my village back home. They were considered the ideal relationship at the time— I was a kid and thought so too. They were kind people. I always enjoyed getting special treatment from the wife, she was like a mother. She was one of the only other people I ever met in my home country that could see curses. Everything was good. But then her husband went and died from sickness. There was something different from the moment she died. She went a little crazy and one day she went and got real angry. Then— boom, there's her husband. But he was different. He was like yours."

Geto hadn't really known what to make of that rather non-sensical story at the time. He had just stared at Miguel before nodding slowly in return. "That's tragic." He wasn't interested in the possibilities.

"Nanako told me it was hard on you when they died." Miguel carried on as if he hadn't very visibly paused for Geto to speak his heart out. "Said that you said it was the reason you're the way you are now."

There was moments where Geto felt frustration with the twins. Their willingness to be so open with the family. Their ability to talk about their emotions so easily. The fact that they couldn't keep a secret for their lives.

The conversation about you had come up when the house was particularly restless and they were morbidly curious. They asked what you were like alive. What he was like as a kid. What the both of you were like in high school. How did you die.

He had looked off distantly and recalled the details— although he left out the gorey, unlikeable parts. He left in the parts where he was sad, that he had a hard time. He explained it in a way that kids like them could understand and use later to make sure they didn't end up the same way. Isolated and full of hatred.

Then, he made the mistake of mentioning Gojo. Their questions fell on deaf ears as he wished them goodnight and tried to drown out the memories of his youth.

"Don't get on her case about it. She's was just curious what certain things meant." Miguel must've taken his silence as anger because he stared at Geto with pleasantly narrowed eyes. "Have you ever considered exactly what happened to them?"

The question wasn't hostile or had any nefarious undertones.

He might as well had threatened Geto though.

Your eyes were blank.

"Please get up."

Geto had quickly excused himself, claiming that he needed to head to bed. He didn't miss the disappointment in Miguel's eyes or the fact that he had tensed up as you drew closer. He didn't want to think about it. What had taken place before, during, and after your death. He didn't need the questions—

"Please get up."

Tonight he couldn't escape it.

Eight years worth of questions and mystery filled his mind. The things he didn't dare address or ponder upon.

Sitting against his headboard, staring blankly into the darkness, he knew exactly how things ended up like this.

Him, a pathetic boy, staring into your lifeless eyes— he had begged for you to be alive. He had laid there with tears in his eyes, a pain in his chest, and a wavering plead breaking from his lips. Before he had fallen unconscious, he reached out his hand.

He reached out his hand.

Your eyes were blank.

Geto knew that he had cursed you. That his pleads and desperately attempt at touching you one last time had somehow damned you. He didn't need to know how it worked. He just knew that it was his fault.

The disgust in Gojo's eyes, the heartbreak, the shock. It was all things Geto deserved. For he had robbed you of the eternal rest you deserved.

The tears collected in his eyes and, for the first time in eight years, he felt a heavy bought of regret press against his chest.

He's known you longer dead than you were alive. Two years of his life had ruled onto the next eight. He had let his grief blind him. He was desperate to not let you go. To keep up some illusion in his head that he would be able to keep you there. To not let you fade away.

Selfish. He'd never been selfish before your death.

"Suguru?"

Your voice, distorted and garbled, was not something that he wanted to hear in that moment. Whatever reason, you were beside the bed now, head rested against your arms. He barely spared you a glance as the tears spilled over.

Selfish. Here you were now. Some weird sense in you to come out and comfort him. He had done this to you. An eternity to comfort him.

Selfish.

"Suguru, are you angry?" You sounded concerned, an odd sound that it didn't seem to fit you now.

Geto clenched his jaw, flexing his fingers. "Only at myself." He uttered.

You inched forward on the bed, a heavy frown spread across your face. "Why are you angry at yourself?"

He finally dragged his eyes to you, lids heavy and face almost as lifeless as your own. "I cursed you." He said it quietly but it felt extremely loud in his empty room. He looked for any realization in your eyes, any type of anger directed at him, but there was nothing. You just stared in return. You should be enraged. "I cursed you. Don't you understand what that means?"

Still, you didn't look angry.

"You saved me—"

"No, no, I didn't." Geto interrupted, closing his eyes in mild irritation. "I didn't... save you. I cursed you. I-I cursed you to stay by my side as I kill. As I kill in your name, you should be angry, Y/N."

“But… they’ve hurt you.” You say it with such confusion and sincerity that it makes him sick.

It’s then that he realizes what this all meant.

If you were alive now, you would look at him with all the rage in the world. You would damn him. You would be disgusted. If you were alive you would probably try to get him to see it all differently. You would tell him that staying with Gojo would’ve been better than this isolation, than this constant feeling in his chest. You would’ve known better than him.

It was then that he realized that he still blamed you for a lot. He wasn’t sure if things would be the same if just Riko died. Or maybe if you all had lived. Would he still be drawn to the same fate only later? Sometimes he was hopeful that he would be the same. Other times he wished he didn’t. All of it led to one thing: his anger for you.

There were some nights he would stay up and think about what you would do in his position. You would forgive them, try to use death as a chance to grow. You were much kinder than him. Or maybe you would be driven insane. None of you had quite tasted death until that mission. You probably would’ve handled things much differently than him if you had seen where Haibara ended up.

Bitterly, Geto thought, you probably would’ve given up.

Your sadness was always prone to taking you down. To whisper those forbidden and nasty things to you until you just wanted to bleed. You admitted to him and Gojo once that you didn’t even think you would make it to high school once. It scared them both, but you always got back up.

Yeah, you wouldn’t handle the sadness.

With a clenched jaw, Geto reached out and held your face. “I made you into this. You only kill and feel that way because that’s how I feel. Doesn’t that make you angry? Don’t you hate me?” He so desperately wanted you to see it from his point of view. He wanted the logic of it all to hit your brain and for you to finally finish what Toji and Gojo couldn’t— properly kill him.

However, just as you were in life, you would never take his life.

“I don’t care about those things.” You uttered in that distorted voice, those eyes of yours filled with emotions that he couldn’t hand pick. “Have I done something to upset you, Suguru?”

"No." Geto answered without hesitation. He pinched his eyes closed and took a deep breath. "I just want you to understand what this is."

He could feel your nail ghost over his thigh. "I understand."

Geto didn't believe you did, but he didn't have the energy to fight you. Not anymore. A part of him would always long to have a good long argument with you. But now it felt different. It felt as if it were all fabricated.

You were too agreeable now.

Please don't die. Please don't leave me.

But he supposed this was his punishment now. For being so desperate.

He rested his hand on top of your head. "Thanks for listening, I guess."

He can deal with the guilt later.

IV. 2017

Geto Suguru knew this would happen.

At least, a part of him was aware that death with a very high likely once he looked Gojo Satoru in the eye and declared war. Maybe even before that as he overlooked the mess of blood and limbs Rika had left behind at the elementary.

Either way, Geto Suguru knew this would happen.

"Hey," You had spoke one day as the three of them lounge in the courtyard. You had your uniform jacket open and your hair loose from the headband you wore to keep it out of your face. A good memory if it weren't for your next question. "Is it good to live a dishonorable life and have a honorable death, or a honorable life with a dishonorable death?"

"Huh? Why would you ask that now?" Satoru had pouted.

You had shrugged. "I mean, Yaga-sensei says that to be a sorcerer we'll have to live with our regrets, but he never talks about honor."

Satoru, in true fashion, rolled his eyes at you before taking a large bite out of his sandwich. "Because it's a bunch of self righteous mumbo-jumbo." He had said through a mouth full.

"Whatever." Your eyes dragged to Suguru. Your face had blossomed into a soft smile. "What do you think, Suguru?"

Suguru had frowned, biting on his lower lip as he thought. "I think what we all consider honorable varies. At the end of the day, you'll have to look back on your life yourself and decide whether you lived it worth wild." As you and Satoru stared at him with raised eyebrows, he shyly shrugged. "Don't worry about how honorable or dishonorable you'll be to others— just live a life that'll make you happy."

While you stared at him with someone akin to awe, Satoru stared blankly at him before bowing. "Truly inspirational, Suguru-sama, please invoke more of your wisdom on us!"

You had defended Suguru fervently as Satoru crowed against your assault. Then, he had been unwavering in his beliefs.

Now, Geto Suguru, stumbling down the ally with a missing arm, knew that all was bullshit.

There was nothing honorable or dishonorable about death. It was all a matter how people viewed you at the time. No one would be truly satisfied with their death because there would be a long list of things they wished they had done or hadn't done in their life.

As Yaga had said, they would all die with regrets.

His plans to obtain Rika had been rooted from a place of pure selfishness. His need to find alternative needs that didn't include using you in the most indescribable and unforgiveable way. He knew, deep down, that if he had used you the way that he planed to use Rika's powers— he would never forgive himself.

He hadn't even wanted to use you against Okkotsu Yuta. But that kid was something else. Most definitely a protege of Gojo Satoru. He could recall the caught off guard look on Okkotsu's face once you appeared. The confusion and the shock that overtook him as you wrapped yourself around Geto Suguru. He had uttered something that made the man falter.

"You're like me?"

There were so many things something that could mean.

You're like me: you're cursed with a love by your side, permanently protecting you against things that you didn't think were dangerous.

You're like me: someone had died so close to you that couldn't quite detach themselves from your soul.

You're like me: you cursed another because you couldn't accept that death was final?

Yes, Geto Suguru bitterly thought as his drive to kill Okkotsu grew. I did.

Now, Geto Suguru couldn't even feel you brewing with his soul. He didn't even think there'd be a difference if you ever left him. But there was this odd sense of loneliness deep within him that made him sick (definitely had nothing to do with the intense blood loss). His stomach churned as his mind silently cried out for you.

Was this true death? Nothing left to hold onto, just the memories and emptiness?

You're like me: you can't live without them.

Geto Suguru fell against the wall of the alley with a bitter scoff. Of course he couldn't. No matter how much he tried to convince himself, he spent the last 10 years attach his very life and soul around you. Tried to act like a big boy whenever he was asked what he would do if he was freed from this curse.

He didn't even get to say goodbye.

Your eyes were blank.

"You finally made it," Geto Suguru snorted as he shifted his eyes over to the looming figure feet from him. "Satoru."

There was something so jarring seeing him now.

Compared to when he arrived a month prior, Gojo Satoru lacked those bandages around his eyes. Those blinding and once comforting pair of sky blues were staring into his very soul blankly. Did he realize that he wasn't coming to say goodbye to you? To free you from a monster like Geto Suguru? That he had actually used you in a last ditch effort to obtain Rika?

He was sure he was aware now.

"You'll be the one to take me down, huh?" He kept a hold on his shoulder as he dragged his eyes away from Gojo Satoru to avoid the unbearable guilt that overcame him. Years of regret and what if's overtaking his mind. "How's my family?"

As long as Nanako and Mimiko were safe, he could die without regret.

"They all got away. Kyoto was your doing too, wasn't it?" Gojo Satoru's voice was as telling as it was 10 years ago. As saddened and angered as the day he had walked away from it all.

"Yeah, unlike you, I'm a kind person. You sent those two here knowing I'd defeat them.... just so you could trigger Okkotsu's growth." He had been thinking about it since the moment Okkotsu's eyes had darkened. The unbearable grief that took over the boy as he eyed his unmoving and bloody friends.

Your eyes were blank.

"It's called trust. People with beliefs like yours wouldn't kill a young sorcerer without reason."

Geto Suguru laughed. "Trust, huh?" He couldn't help the amusement flow through him. After all these years... "I didn't realize you still felt any connection with me."

His counterpart responded with a scoff. "Suguru." It was said with the weight of a thousand lonely days— as if Satoru had thought the same. As if nothing had changed. The man clenched his jaw, ducking his eyes from view as he spoke once again: "Any last words?"

Geto Suguru drew in a heavy breath, things were really getting hazy now— almost feather light. "No matter what, I'll always hate those monkeys." His words were said with the disdain and hatred of the past ten years. Then he thought about where he was 10 years ago. The grief and the isolation that overtook him. He grew quiet. "But it's not like I hate everyone at Jujutsu High. It's just that in this world... I couldn't wear a heartfelt smile."

Satoru stood there in silence. Seeming to take in the words carefully.

"Anything else?" He uttered.

Suguru frowned, ducking his head. There was one thing he had been thinking about for the past two years that grappled him in the most unnerving ways. "Do you think they'll forgive me?" His question was soft and barely there— he was barely there himself anyway.

Satoru scoffed, except it sounded more fond than before. "They were always too forgiving of us. If you're worried about your purgatory being apologizing to them for eternity, then you're fine— it'd be too easy anyway." He joked softly, except his blank expression didn't quite add to the comfort or joke of it all.

I'd spend the rest of time apologizing. Suguru fought the urge to say.

"I figured."

"Suguru," Satoru took attentive steps forward, crouching down to his level. Their eyes met and there was something almost tangiable in that gaze of his. "I love you. I forgive you."

Suguru couldn't help the shock that flushed over his body. As the pain seemed to leave him completely, he used the last bits of his strength to show Satoru a true smile. The only one he could really conjure.

"You could at least curse me at the end."

As Satoru stared at him, as Yuta Okkotsu celebrated with his friends the victory and their safety, and as Suguru took his last breaths, his eyes trailed over Satoru's shoulder.

You stared back with a kind smile. Looking more alive than you had in the past ten years, you wore the clothes you had the day you died, your normal boring uniform. Suguru hated to admit he missed seeing those terrible uniforms.

"Suguru."

[sttoru]

just saw ur fic ideas post .......... how bout semi public stuff with gojo @ some high end jujutsu event and he just is SOOOO enamoured with how you look and takes you to the bathroom and ..... 😙

GOT A FETISH FOR YOUR LOVE !

ෆ note. sobs dies ressurects… im so weak… i had to write a full on fic… everyone thank T for this cuz i went crazy on this one and it’s super detailed for no reason. this post contains smut, proceed at own risk !

ෆ tags. (perv)dom!satoru x female reader. semi public, p in v — unprotected, bits of manhandling, corruption kink, breast play, premature ejaculation, cervix fucking, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, teasing, cum play, creampies, spanking, pussy slapping, mentions of masturbation, perv panty stealer satoru, implied cunnilingus, fucked against a wall, lots of dirty talk, satoru calls you ‘slutty’ once, satoru with the famous ‘just the tip’ beg, satoru sometimes turns whiny and subby so you get the best of both worlds (hes pathetic), he has a big dick ehem, pussy drunk satoru.

satoru couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw you climb up the stairs near the torii gates of the high school he teaches at; your appearance only increasing in beauty due to the candle lights placed all around the environment.

your face and body were glistening under the moon light as you made your way up. you were silently cursing yourself for wearing heels while knowing that jujutsu tech was situated on top of a literal mountain.

unbeknownst to you, your boyfriend had been waiting your arrival near the entrance since the first guests started pouring in.

with a sigh, you finally lift your head up as you notice the entrance to the main building come into view. there were lots of known sorcerers gathered around, chitchatting about recent business and changes in the jujutsu society.

you were too enamoured by the elegant decorations that hung around the school and the people who were dressed accordingly to the theme to even notice the white-haired man walking up to you.

which was unusual, since satoru’s tall physique could be easily spotted in any crowd.

“baby, you should’ve told me you had arrived!” satoru exclaims almost embarrassingly loud, waving at you without a care in the world of all the other guests that were giving him stares. his gaze was only on you, “i would’ve come picked you up.”

you wave back at him, eyes lingering on the tailored dark blue suit he was wearing, the waistcoat and dress shirt underneath being undeniably attractive. a bonus being that he was wearing his glasses and not his blindfold.

“it’s okay, love.” you reassure satoru as you walk a few steps towards him as well.

“ya sure? you didn’t hurt yourself or anything, right?” satoru pouts, immediately wrapping his arms around your waist and hugging you tight, “my poor, poor girl.”

you roll your eyes at satoru’s antics. his one and only desire in life is to give you the princess treatment you deserve and it shows at moments like these.

“it’s fine,” you murmur, voice muffled as you bury your face into the crook of his neck; getting drowned in his familiar scent, “you look handsome by the way.”

satoru chuckles, feeling a bit giddy on the inside from your compliment. he almost responded with a ‘i know i do’, yet he held himself back. today was an exception and he decided to save you from any more cheeky remarks.

“thank you, pretty.” satoru hums, “you look ethereal.”

you could feel the way your boyfriend hugged you even tighter after his comment, pressing your body against his. you normally wouldn’t mind it in the slightest, however you could notice a few people glancing over at you two.

satoru couldn’t give a single damn about it; the only thing his senses were hyper focused on were your breasts that were squished against his chest—the curves of your body being easily accessible to the sorcerer.

“god..” his breath was shaky a little. satoru was really trying hard to repress his urges, the event hadn’t even started yet and even so, he was way too lost in his perverted thoughts.

he couldn’t help himself. you were just too addictive; your perfume, your warmth, your body, your face, your glossy lips… your breasts, your ass—

satoru clears his throat and pulls back after a bit, “shall we, m’lady?”

he bowed a little to you, putting his hand out for you to hold on while a subtle smirk played on his lips.

with a giggle, you grab onto his hand and satoru wastes no time interlocking your fingers as he guides you to the entrance of the main hall.

the building was scattered with even more sorcerers from all kinds of clans; some admiring the scenery, some sitting and eating various delicacies.

like before, you were too caught up in the scale of the event to realise that satoru was ogling you. it was a great thing that his pitch black lenses were blocking most of his eyes from the outside;

his gaze lingered on your side profile, your lips that were slightly parted in amazement, your hips which swayed from side to side with each step and your ass which he tried not to grope in public.

satoru hadn’t even noticed that he started to ball his hands into fists out of pure self control. his hand that was holding onto yours tightening its grip as well.

“something wrong?” you ask your boyfriend once you noticed, tilting your head to look up at him.

“nothin’, baby.” satoru lies and flashes you a reassuring smile, “c’mon. let’s enjoy some food.”

without waiting on your answer, satoru guides you towards a free cocktail table and stands near it, serving you an appetiser that was set on the table cloth.

you gladly accepted it and took a small bite, looking around the place some more and taking in the details, “it’s really pretty. the decor and stuff.”

satoru hums in agreement even though he hadn’t taken a single proper look at the environment when you were the main event in his eyes, “yeah. i think so too.”

everything about you somehow drove him crazy today. on most normal days, he could wait until you were at home to show you how much he adores you. that was not the case at the moment since he was fighting with his own self on the inside.

he was absolutely whipped for your elegant look.

“very pretty.” satoru mumbles under his breath. he most definitely wasn’t talking about the interior or exterior of the place.

it was getting harder by the minute to not give in to his primal needs. the more you talked to him, flashed him your innocent smile and let him hear your voice, the more he was struggling to keep his (now hard) dick in his pants.

you continued rambling about something that you noticed around you and satoru took the chance to place his hand on your hip, pulling you closer. it wasn’t anything unusual, thus you kept on talking.

it started off by him rubbing the area around your hips to his fingers subtly sliding downwards, eventually reaching the hem of your dress. his index finger dipped under the fabric, caressing your upper thigh. that small skin to skin action made satoru’s breath hitch and his cock twitch in its restraints.

“fuck.”

“what was that?” you abruptly stop yourself as you heard your lover curse under his breath. you weren’t aware of all the lewd thoughts going on in satoru’s mind and that made it even better. your innocent confusion wasn’t going to last long, however.

satoru lowered his head a bit until his lips were right next to your ear. the warmth of his breath made you shiver.

“i said,” he starts off in a low tone; one which he knows would make you weak for him, “i want you.”

it was as if time froze for you for a split second. you knew what satoru meant with that. you could’ve easily guessed the hidden meaning behind those three words just by his tone. the light but daring touches on your legs were your second hint.

“love, we’re in public.” you whisper back. satoru has a reputation to uphold as the strongest sorcerer in this entire building, yet there he was; implying that he wanted to take you right there and now.

a sigh left satoru’s lips, the air hitting your ear once again, “please, baby? for me?”

satoru was running out of patience. he could act out in the midst of the hall and disregard his image for all he cares. he just needed you. badly.

“promise i’ll be quick, yeah?” he adds, tone pleading but also a tad dominant.

you gulp and wanted to give in. you stood no chance to your whiny boyfriend, who always knew the right buttons to push to get you to comply to his requests.

satoru saw the hesitation in your eyes and he decided to plead more, “just the tip. i promise, sweets—tha’s all i need.”

a intrusive mental image of satoru fucking your brains out made him grip your thigh a bit harder; his voice suddenly growing deep and dominant, his expression filled with only lust.

“shit—please. have to feel your sweet pussy wrapped around me or i’ll lose it.”

his words were growing explicit and it was only a matter of time before he actually touches you improperly in front of everyone. you could tell by the way his long fingers inched closer to your clothed cunt.

“..fine. just the tip, like you said.” you breathe out shakily out of pure desire. though, both of you knew that it was going to be more than ‘just the tip’.

satoru grinned and immediately put down the appetiser he was holding onto, grabbing your hand and almost rushing out of the hall.

there were a few sorcerers trying to greet him on the way, yet he didn’t even glance at them once. his eyes were dazed with hunger as he swiftly made his way through the crowd—his thoughts being filled with the ways he’ll have you moan and beg.

satoru opens up the door to the nearest bathroom, pushing you against the wall the moment the door closed behind you.

his glossy lips crash against yours, the lipstick you’re wearing smearing on your lover due to the aggressive and almost sloppy way he kissed you. his tongue prodded against your lips before entering your mouth—strings of saliva and heavy breaths being exchanged between you two for what felt like minutes.

“ah, fuck. i wanted this so bad,” satoru moans against your mouth, sucking on your bottom lip, “..since the moment i saw you in that dress.”

his big hands were all over your body; groping and grabbing onto your flesh, from your ass and thighs to your tits.

“mhhh— ‘toru, god,” you sigh, feeling yourself get wet from just his confessions, “you can have me, all of me.”

your lover grunts at your words. they were exactly what he needed to hear. he roughly pulls the hem of your dress up, revealing your white panties. his all time favourite. a small, lustful grin instantly appears on his face. he always thought that you looked extra innocent in those; and that by ripping those off, that he’ll corrupt that ‘pure’ image.

and don’t let him start on how many times he’s used that specific pair of panties to jerk off. he vividly remembers how his sticky cum covered the cloth afterwards.

“haah—fuckfuckfuck,” satoru curses repeatedly as his fingertips tremble out of pure desire, “can’t wait any longer. you’re gonna walk around the avenue with no panties later on, ‘kay?”

“sato-” your eyes widened and before you could even protest, you hear the fabric of your underwear tearing. the ripped off cloth falling down onto the cold floor.

“there we go,” he mutters in delight, his eyes gazed at your exposed pussy. his fingers rubbed over the skin, grazing the wet folds. a deep, breathy chuckle echoes throughout the bathroom, “this pussy’s just ready to be filled, don’tcha think?”

you nod feverishly and nibble on your lower lip at the way satoru was teasing your clit. his hand slowly cupped your slippery cunt, his palm covering the area entirely before slapping the velvety flesh. three small smacks, each making your limbs tremble.

“ya hear that?” satoru hums, completely overtaken by his desire for you as the squelchy sounds ring in his ears, “so ready to be stretched out and fucked.”

“hnnnh, ah, baby—please just, just fuck me.” you whimper; feeling the pressure of his hand’s thenar against your clit while his fingertips traveled across your vulva.

“oh, i definitely will.” satoru responds with a grunt as he undoes his belt and zipper with his free hand. his trousers and underwear fall down to his ankles, revealing his cock to you.

your mouth watered at the sight as it slightly slapped against his lower abdomen due to the speed at which satoru took his boxers off. the moist drops of thick pre-cum coating his pink tip, the slight curve of his big shaft and the veins covering it—you needed to have him in you.

when satoru thinks that he prepped you enough to take his cock, he removes his hand from between your legs. of course, he isn’t going to waste a chance of tasting your slick that gathered on his skin.

“turn around,” he orders after licking off his fingers and you do as said, “ass back towards me, pretty.”

one of satoru’s hands was on one side of your hips to hold you steady against the cold tiles of the bathroom wall, the other occupied with stroking his cock. satoru was already contemplating on where to cum; in or on you. he’s obsessed with spurting his sticky cum on your plump ass, however he also loved stuffing you full of it.

“deep breaths,” your boyfriend reminds you as he prods the swollen tip of his cock at your entrance—despite the prep, it was always almost impossible to avoid a slight discomforting sensation in the beginning. that man’s length was no joke.

“ahhhh, fuuuck! satoru!” you hiss and your fingernails try to dig into the wall you were pressed against. you felt your folds being forced apart to fit his cock inside of your small cunt.

“shiiit.. you’re fuckin’ tight.” satoru grits his teeth. no matter how many times he breaks your pussy in, you still feel as tight as ever, “..mmh—relax, princess.”

satoru pushed in, inch by inch, until he bottomed out and you both took a deep breath. a sloppy kiss was placed against the back of your neck as reward for taking him in. it was his habit of doing so every time the two of you get intimate.

“‘m gonna start moving. that alright?”

a simple nod coming from you was plenty to let satoru begin with slow, soft thrusts which soon enough turned into deep and firm thrusts—the pounding sounds echoing in the bathroom, “there we go—ahh, yeah— fuck!”

“mhhhg, s’good! ngh!” you slur your words a bit as satoru started to speed up the tempo, feeling his heavy balls slap against the skin near your clit every time he drove his thick cock into you, “mmph! more, wan’ more!”

neither you nor satoru could care anymore if your desperate mewls or the harsh skin-to-skin sounds were heard outside of the dimly lit bathroom.

satoru was slowly losing his mind as he gazed down at your ass and the way you moved your hips back to meet his rough thrusts—he never got enough of you in that position. his hands held onto your hips before moving to your lower back to deepen your arch a little. his eyes were in a trance; he needed to see more of that chubby ass and the recoil of it.

“i swear—you’re gonna make me,haah, cum already,” satoru moans as he tried to find a way to distract himself from the pleasure building up to a breaking point. he decides to gently bite onto your shoulder, running his tongue over the slight mark he left and then continues to suck on the flesh.

“hmmmh, haah, yes! need- need your cum in me, please- please, ‘toru!” you beg in such an erotic tone that satoru can’t help but bite down harder on your shoulder.

“princess—y-you can’t say that-” he swallows a lump in his throat as he forces his cock so deep that you felt it hit your cervix repeatedly, “please- don’t say that.. don’t, oh god—“

satoru was the one begging this time; his voice sounding more whiny than it had ever been during your little session. he can’t help it when it comes to you. he had desired to fuck you since he saw you and now that he was finally doing it, his senses were utterly overwhelmed.

“nonono,” you hear your boyfriend curse as the strokes inside your tight cunt turned harsh and quick, like he was on the verge of his climax, which he didn’t want. he didn’t want to cum in under two minutes, but he’s just so weak when it comes to you. so damn weak.

“ahhh, fuck— s-sorry, baby— can i cum? can i cum in you? please?” he bites his lips, shutting his eyes so tight that he could see colors.

“please, please, let me. mnghhh, please let me cum in you. wanna fill you up.” satoru repeats his words like a chant in your ear. you were as lost in the feeling of ecstasy as your lover was and just nodded at his whiny pleas.

“mhmm, yes, do it—cum in me!”

your permission was all satoru needed and not a second later, you felt ropes and ropes of hot cum flood your cunt and some drops gush out of your pulsating hole.

satoru was quivering slightly as he kept moving his hips in slow pumps, fucking the cum deeper into you. you were full of surprises; he didn’t know he could cum in under two minutes until right that instant. you really had him wrapped around your finger.

and the best thing? he was already starting to get hard once again.

satoru slowly pulled his dick out of you and only let the tip stay a few centimetres in you. one hand went to grab onto the base of his length and he started to tap and move the tip in tiny circular motions in your cum-filled pussy—making sure every single drop is dumped where it belonged.

“fucking greedy, ain’t ya?” satoru hisses as he feels you clench onto his tip like you were doing to his cock earlier, “your pussy just wants to milk me dry.”

you whine and push your hips back a little in attempt to push his cock further into your needy cunt again, “wan’ more.. please, ‘toru?”

gojo satoru was a weakling.

he slammed his cock fully inside of you again and didn’t care if you expected it or not; he was fucking you like there was no tomorrow. his hands were kneading the flesh of your ass, spanking it every now and then to feel you tighten up more around him while his hips were working full time.

“yeah? gonna take another load in your slutty cunt again?” satoru groans as he feels your pussy gripping onto his throbbing cock like it was pleading to be stuffed, “haaah—you’re incredible, nhh, never had anyone make me cum this quick and hard before.”

your body squirmed and shivered each time you felt satoru spank you, ending up in a repeated cycle of you tightening up around him and him smacking the fat of your ass, “yes, yes, yes! want it, please!”

it was incredibly difficult to hold back your own orgasm when satoru was whispering filthy things in your ear, pounding into your creamy pussy while also stimulating your clit.

satoru instantly caught onto the fact that you were nearing your climax. you always started to get more noisy whenever you were close, “aah, mhm—cum on my cock while i dump another load inside of you. c’mon, you can do it.”

satoru’s words made your stomach fill with butterflies, the coil inside of you threatening to finally snap.

“‘m gonna.. gonna cum! gonna cum!” you cry out between ragged breaths, eyes rolling into the back of your head once you reached your long-awaited climax.

the sight of you arching your back even more while you came was the hottest thing satoru’s seen. he rushed his thrusts, becoming more precise to hit your cervix over and over again.

“mhm, jus’ like that—tighten up more.” your lover hisses and his nails dug into the flesh of your hips while he felt your pussy throbbing from overstimulation, “milk me dry, pretty—fuck!”

your mind was foggy with that euphoric feeling after reaching your orgasm. but also due to satoru continuing to bully his thick cock all the way in you, seemingly needing to drain his balls inside your cunt.

“mhhhhnn, ‘m gonna fill ya up again,” he whimpers a bit into your ear from behind while sweat drips from his forehead, “take it all like a good girl, yeah? don’t—haah— waste a drop.”

and with that he spurts and squirts strings of cum into your womb once more. it felt like there was no ending to it as his semen just continued to pump out of the tip.

“fuckkk! got more for you,” satoru almost sobs out, his tongue peeking out from behind his lips as his muscles tense up. he came so much into you that even more of the liquid drizzled down on the floor beneath you, “take it—yeah—jus’ like that.”

a few more deep and chaste strokes and satoru was done. he exhaustedly rests his chin on your shoulder, white locks clinging onto his forehead and his cheeks colouring a reddish hue.

“haahh.. that was amazing.” satoru sighs deeply, trying to catch his breath while wrapping his arms around your waist. he buried his face into your neck, leaving small pecks there while mumbling about how good you were for him.

your eyes were closed as you rest against the wall, enjoying the affection from your lover while you feel his dick go limp inside you. satoru slowly pulls out afterwards, biting his lip as his gaze lingered on all the fluids leaking down your trembling thighs.

“hold on,” satoru murmurs gently, “gonna clean you up, princess.”

his own legs were shaking slightly as he quickly put his boxers and pants back on. your boyfriend grabs a few tissues from a nearby dispenser, kneeling behind you afterwards.

your eyes followed his fingers as they held onto the wipes and started to clean you up slowly. the comfortable silence—excluding the muffled sounds of chatter and music from outside the bathroom—was perfect for you to catch your breath.

satoru was diligently sliding the tissues over your skin, making sure to not be too rough.

as much as he tried telling himself not to get turned on again from the sight of your ass and sopping cunt in front of his face, he just couldn’t.

your lover was breathing heavily and stopped cleaning you up for a second. he really tried his best to stop himself over and over, though the title of being the strongest didn’t apply to his self control.

his large hands came up to hold onto your ass, spreading the cheeks apart which made your lips part in shock. you looked over your shoulder at him and sensed the resurfacing lust in the air. not only that: his warm breath hit your sensitive pussy as he panted in a hungry way.

satoru lifted his head up to meet your eyes, flashing you a (not so) apologetic grin;

“sorry, pretty. i need to get my dessert.”

[jgracie]

🌊 DATING PERCY JACKSON

masterlist | rules

jason’s version | leo’s version | frank’s version | travis’ version | luke’s version

in which he pauses and says, "you're my best friend"

pairing percy jackson x fem!reader

warnings mention of a scary quest where percy almost died

Dating Percy is like dating your biggest fan, because he is. You are dating your biggest fan

It takes him a while to realise he likes you and that all the things he’d do for you aren’t just because you’re his friend, but once it finally clicks it's all he can think about 

From that moment, he becomes #1 loverboy

“Percy, what are you doing?” Annabeth asked, watching as Percy frantically sifted through his many blue t-shirts. Acknowledging her presence, Percy breathed a sigh of relief as he pulled two of them out of his closet and held them up next to his face.

“Gods, Annabeth, I’m so glad you’re here! Now, I’m about to go see Y/N at the beach and I need you to tell me which looks better with my eyes: the teal or the aqua.”

(They are one hex letter apart)

It's very endearing and he doesn’t even try to hide it!!! But of course you’re the only person who doesn’t notice, thinking he just really wants to be your friend, because Percy’s nice and friendly with everyone

He follows you around everywhere trying to find out more about you so he can plan the perfect first date

You’re an Apollo kid who works in the infirmary? Percy’s first in line for Will’s first aid summer course. You harvest strawberries with the Demeter and Dionysus kids? Percy’s there before everyone else with 3 wicker baskets on each arm

Eventually, you do end up becoming really good friends because he’s just always there and really fun to talk to and super nice and good with kids and maybe he’s a little cute, you’re allowed to have cute friends! 

You would’ve been teetering the thin line between friends and dating for ages if it wasn’t for Annabeth, who devises a plan to get you alone and somehow managed to get the whole camp in on it

That’s how you both ended up at the beach, Percy with a note in his jean pocket that read, “tell her or I will - A” 

Turning to you, the corners of Percy’s mouth couldn’t help but lift as he watched you admire the way the waves lapped over the shore. That moment would be ingrained in his head forever, because it was the moment he fully understood he had to have you

His nerves betray him

When you ask, “what’d you wanna tell me?” Instead of saying some heartfelt confession that’d make you swoon, Percy states a simple fact: “You’re my best friend.”

It turned out fine though, because you knew what it was. You felt the same way. (listen to you are in love by taylor swift!) 

Once you start dating, you are practically attached at the hip. Wherever you go, so does Percy and vice versa

When dating Percy, you truly get the best of both worlds because not only is he your boyfriend, he is also your best friend and truly someone you can lean on when needed

Loyalty is his fatal flaw so expect a LOT of loyalty. Like a concerning amount. He would find ways to justify you murdering a whole family if he had to

However, what comes with loyalty is protectiveness and jealousy. He doesn’t get that jealous because he knows that you two were literally written in the stars by Aphrodite herself, but he still can’t help but get a little jealous when he sees you with some other guy

Just kiss him a little and maybe stay the night at Cabin 3 and never speak to that guy again and he’ll be fine

Inherited motherly traits from Sally. Always checking you for cuts and scrapes after capture the flag, makes you a lunchbox before quests and then insists he goes with you to make you more food when needed and definitely not because he’s worried you won’t come back alive!

He knows you can handle yourself and all but he can’t help it. Out of everyone at camp, Percy’s your number one guy when it comes to dangerous quests

One of his biggest fears that kind of kept him distancing himself from you when he was crushing on you was that he didn’t want you sucked into all the dangers he goes through on a daily basis. He’d rather watch you date someone ‘safe’ from afar than put you in harm’s way 24/7

You’d choose him over a literal God though, so he has no choice but to be stuck with you. Power couple! 

After a really bad quest, one where almost died, Percy sat you down at his cabin for a talk. Part of him didn’t want to tell you what happened, but he knew it’d be unfair on your end if you were left in the dark.

“Look, I understand if you don’t want to stay with me. If it weren’t for Grover’s quick thinking, I don’t know what would’ve happened to me, and it’s not right for you to be stuck with a guy who’s basically friends with death. You deserve someone more sta–”

You shut him up with a kiss :) “Percy, when I agreed to date you, I didn’t just agree to all the good things, I agreed to the uglier parts of your life too. Sure, I was really worried while you were gone, but that’s just part of being a demigod, and it's a price I’m willing to pay for all the amazing moments we have together, so don’t even think about me leaving you.”

Anyways, he introduces you to Sally and Paul as soon as humanly possible. They already know a concerning amount about you considering you guys never met, but that’s just because Percy would rant to them about his crush on you on a daily basis

He's so incredibly happy watching you get along with his family. All of his favourite people gathered <3 very sweet

He also loves to see you interact with Estelle!! Percy is a huge fan of kids so he can’t help but stare as you play peekaboo with his younger half-sister (babysitting Estelle fic here!)

Percy also introduces you to the ocean and everything about it. You liked it before, as it was beautiful and reminded you of camp, but Percy painted it in a whole new light

He’d constantly take you on trips under the sea, using his Poseidon kid powers to allow you to be able to see and breathe underwater like he does

This also means lots of making out underwater. After that one time you two got caught kissing by the Stolls, suffering major consequences, he hasn’t been able to risk it

Overall, dating Percy is very fun & your relationship never ever gets boring trust

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Triggers

Sam and Dean Winchester x little sister!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: Sam does something that reminds you of your abusive stepfather, and your response scares both of your brothers.

Sam and Dean didn’t know much about your life before them, and you wanted to keep it that way.

You were John’s daughter, but Mary wasn’t your mother. John didn’t find out about you until your mother died, at which time he took you in. But there was something about your life that even he didn’t know.

You had a stepfather.

You hadn’t told John, because even when you first met him, you had sensed something. You had sensed that if he knew that you had any option other than him, he would be gone in an instant. You found out why soon after; his life was a very dangerous one.

But you had told him that you had no one else, so he’d taken you in. And you didn’t regret it. You’d take monsters with two big brothers and your real father over a “safe” nice home and your stepfather any day.

He’d abused you both emotionally and verbally as soon as he’d married your mother, and you were almost certain that it would’ve turned physical if he hadn’t known that your mother would leave him over that. As soon as your mother died, you knew you weren’t safe in that house anymore; your stepfather could do whatever he wanted to you.

So here you were, with the Winchesters, and it couldn’t be better. They were your real family, more than your stepfather and even your mother had ever been. As much as you’d loved your mother, she’d stood by and watched while your stepfather said whatever he wanted to you, even when he threatened you and terrified you to the point where you had nightmares about him going through with his threats. You could never go back to that kind of life.

Even if it meant this, what was happening now. You were wandering around a maze of boxes and crates in the middle of a warehouse, trying to find your brothers. You’d recklessly ran down a corridor to chase down a vampire, but once it was dead you realized you’d gotten yourself lost. It would’ve been fine, if not for a couple of key factors. 1: Your phone was dead, and 2: there wasn’t just one vamp in the warehouse, it was a nest.

You just hoped that Sam and Dean found you before the nest did.

“What do we have here?” You cringed at the unfamiliar voice. Of course you couldn’t be so lucky.

“I’d say it looks like dinner,” another vampire said from behind you.

“You don’t want to do this,” you warned as your fingers tightened around your machete.

“You have no idea how much I do,” he grinned at you.

You backed away from the two monsters until your back hit a stack of crates and your movement was stopped. You were semi-confident in your ability to take them both out, until you saw movement behind some boxes to your left, and three more joined the group. One of the first two had snuck up behind you while your attention was on the other vamps, and you didn’t notice him until his hand shot out, gripping your arm and twisting it until your machete clanked to the ground.

“See,” the first one spoke as he advanced on you. “Doesn’t matter that you’re a hunter.” The man moved, and before you could blink he had your arms pinned to your side, his fangs dangerously close to your neck. You felt your whole body shiver when you felt his next words as a breath against your throat. “You’re gonna die like every other brat we bleed dry.”

“You think so?”

The sound of that familiar voice almost made your knees go weak in relief. The pressure on your wrists disappeared as the vampire turned to charge at Dean, who deftly took his head off in one swing.

Sam was right beside him, taking out a couple of other vampires. Before long, all five lay dead on the ground, and you leaned heavily against the crate behind you, your legs feeling too shaky to hold you up.

“Are you ok?” Sam’s voice didn’t quite reach through your fogged mind, until he stepped forwards and grabbed your shoulders, shaking you until you looked at him. “Are you ok?”

“I-I’m…” you nodded feebly, and Sam’s demeanor changed.

“What were you thinking?” His sudden raise in volume made you flinch, your whole body tensing.

“I’m sor-sorry, I-“

“You could’ve been killed! Where were you? How could you be so-“

“Sam!”

You didn’t even hear when Dean interrupted Sam, pulling him away from you. You couldn’t hear anything except the ringing in your ears, and the voice that was so clearly not either of your brothers.

“What were you thinking?”

“How could you be so stupid?”

“If you pull anything like that again, I’ll kill you!”

“You’re lucky your mother is here, or I’d beat you until you couldn’t stand!”

All the different times, all the different threats just merged together, playing over and over in your head. You couldn’t hear anything but that voice, couldn’t see anything but that face.

You didn’t even feel it when your legs gave out and you sank to the floor. You squeezed your eyes shut tightly, hands coming up to cover your ears as you rocked back and forth, back and forth.

“No…” you whimpered. “Stop, please stop.”

Meanwhile, Sam and Dean didn’t know what to say.

“Sam, what did you…”

“I-I didn’t…I don’t…” Sam couldn’t take his eyes off you as you shuddered and began to sob. “Hey, hey,” Sam spoke softly as he knelt next to you on the ground. “Sweetheart, look at me, it’s Sammy.”

Sam froze when you flinched away from his touch, but he didn’t back down.

“Hey, c’mon.” Sam took hold of your hands, gently prying them away from your ears.

“No!” You sobbed. “Don’t, don’t!”

“Commere,” Sam sighed as he pulled you into his arms, his chin resting on your head as he rocked you back and forth. “Come on sweetheart, come back to me.”

“S-Sam?” Sam breathed a sigh of relief when you opened your eyes and spoke to him.

“Hey, hey it’s me, it’s ok.”

“I’m sorry,” you sobbed as you fisted his shirt, clinging to him.

“No, hey, don’t apologize. I-I shouldn’t have yelled, I’m sorry.”

“Baby,” Dean spoke softly as he leaned down to look at you. “What was that?”

Sam felt you shift as you turned your head against his chest, unwilling to look at Dean.

“No,” you whimpered.

“What?” Dean reached out and placed a hand on your shoulder. “It’s ok, you can talk to me.”

“No!” Sam’s heart ached at the sound of your sobbing as you burrowed closer to him.

“Ok, ok,” Dean said as he backed away. “I…I’m gonna go start the car,” Dean looked at Sam. “Just…bring her out when she’s ready.” Dean left, knowing he couldn’t help. This was something Sam had to fix.

“You have to talk to me,” Sam pleaded. “Kid, you’re scaring me.”

“Y-you have to promise me.” Sam felt you pull away from him, and he looked down into your eyes. “You can’t tell Dad or Dean. And-and you can’t make me go back.” Sam stiffened when you started to cry again. “I-I can’t go back.”

“Shh, shh,” Sam pulled you close again as he whispered. “Ok, ok I promise honey. What’s got you so scared?”

“You-you just…you reminded me of-of someone, and I got-I got scared.”

“Who?” Sam pulled away again to look at you. “Who did I remind you of? Did this person hurt you?”

“M-my…” Sam swallowed as you took a deep breath before speaking. “My stepfather.”

“You don’t have a…” Sam’s voice trailed off at the look on your face. “You have a stepfather? But I thought-“

“I didn’t want dad to know, because I-I had to get away.”

“You chose monsters over this guy?” Your silence was all the answer Sam needed. “And…and I reminded you…” Sam swallowed. “Honey, you-you know I wasn’t trying to scare you, right? I just…” Sam shook his head. “Sweetie you scared us so bad. I thought those vamps had…”

“No,” you insisted. “I-I know you didn’t mean it, I just-just got scared. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Sam said as he shifted. “Are you ready to go?”

“Y-you won’t tell anyone, will you?” You looked up at Sam as the two of you stood, and his stomach twisted at the fear in your eyes.

“Commere,” he sighed, pulling you close. “You’re family, kid. We would never send you back to him, never. But I’ll keep it a secret, if that’s what you want.”

“Yes.”

“Ok, I promise,” Sam said as he pulled away. “Now c’mon.”

Sam kept his arm around your shoulders as he led you out towards the car.

“I’m sorry,” Sam spoke again just before you reached the Impala. “I never wanted to scare you.”

“It’s ok,” you leaned closer to your big brother as you spoke. “I-I know you’re not like him.”

“If you ever want to tell us about him…we’re here, kid. You can trust us, always.”

“Hey,” Dean interrupted, sticking his head out the window of the Impala. “Are we all good?”

“Yeah,” you grinned. “We’re all good.”

[tsukimefuku]

4 a.m. ☾ nanami kento

summary: nanami is your ex and calls you just before dawn to hear your voice. wc: 1.5k cw: gender neutral reader. very much angst. this takes place the night before the shibuya incident. notes etc.: song is 4 am, by taeko onuki.

lord, give me one more chance ☾ is this the last one, I wonder?

“Nanami?”

Your phone’s ringing would’ve jolted you awake from your dreams — that is, if you had been able to sleep. The life of a sorcerer was plagued by nightmares, it seemed, and you made sure to sleep as little as possible to achieve dreamless nights during most of the week. 

“Yes, this is me.”

Definitely his voice, alright.

It was 4:00 AM, and you feared for a moment when his name lit up on your phone’s screen that you were receiving that dreaded witching hour phone call.

However, this was considerably more unexpected, given that he was the one to break things up with you years ago and never contact you again. 

“Are you okay? Has something happened?” you tried your best to keep your voice from cracking, an awkward pit of... something gnawing at your chest. 

The silence reigned solemnly for a few seconds, only muted breath coming from the other side. 

“Nanami?” 

“I just...”

You knew his voice. He was definitely inebriated. The way his syllables were breathier and dragged over the tone was unmistakable. 

“Nanami... what is it?” your voice came labored with a sigh, part in concern, part in discomfort.

“I just wanted to hear your voice. I’m sorry if I awoke you.” 

“You know very well you haven’t,” you replied, half in jest, trying to ease the mood. It had been a minute since you two last spoke — since he had broken up with you, “but...”

Your words died on their way out. 

“I... I apologize, I shouldn’t have bothered you,” Nanami said on the other end, more for his benefit than yours, seemingly coming to terms with whatever entity had taken hold of him, guiding his fingers towards his phone and dialing you up. 

“It’s fine, it’s okay,” you offered, uncertain, “it’s... nice hearing your voice. It’s been a while.”

You lifted yourself from your sofa, picked up the glass of red you had resting on the coffee table, and made your way towards your apartment’s window, being met by Kyoto’s nightscape.

You heard him sigh, a sound heavier than you would have expected from Nanami, and his uneasiness was palpable, even through the phone. 

“You didn’t think this through, did you?” you playfully inquired, knowing full well that if Nanami did think this through, he would've stopped himself from reaching his phone. 

“I did not,” he offered in earnest, and you couldn’t help but wonder where he was right now. Was he at home? Sitting by his table still in his work attire? Laying on his bed in a t-shirt and sweatpants? 

You wanted to ask, but held your tongue as quickly as the thought came.

That wasn’t how it worked for you two, not anymore. 

“How have you been? Are you alright?” you genuinely asked. You truly, really wanted to know how your unwavering man — “your” solely in dreams from the past — was doing. Was he fine? Did he leave Jujutsu High again? What had he been up to? 

The aching desire to peek into a life you weren’t entitled to anymore was enticing, even if a painful reminder of the door that had been permanently shut. 

“Still pushing the same boulder uphill everyday,” he replied, and you heard some icy, glassy clacks on the other side, followed by a sip sound. 

He was drinking. Probably a glass of whiskey with the same exact three ice cubes he always put in it.

“Is the hill getting taller and the valley deeper, too?” you asked him, a distinct smile to your voice.

He huffed, amused. 

“One could say so.” 

“Nanami-“ 

“Kento,” he cooed in the same husky, deep voice he used to caress your skin every time he whispered to you something in a crowd, leaning against you in a way only a lover would, or when he undid you just to build you up back up over and over every night you spent together.

The voice he would only use to love you.

It hurt. 

“Nanami...” you repeated in the same beat, the concern and warning in your voice mingling around the uneasiness that now clenched at your chest, too. 

“Just... for tonight. Please.”

He rarely asked you for anything, and whenever he did, you caved.

Just like you caved at that very instant. 

“Fine.” 

“Thank you.” 

You exhaled, trying to ease the forceful flattening sensation tying around your lungs. 

“Kento, why are you calling me now? I mean, we have been broken up for so long... after you broke up with me.” 

Some of your last words came out with a tinge of bitterness, and even through the phone, you somehow knew he’d be looking away after you said that.

“I... I really just wanted to hear your voice. And if there is nothing to be said, I’d like to stay on the line with you for a while, even if in silence. I... I want... I want to share this quietude now with you,” he offered, an explanation of sorts, but not enough.

This was the issue — nothing was neat, calculated, mathematical enough for him. Waiting for the precise moment, life had passed you both by. 

“Why? Why did you... break up with me? For real?” you asked, fully aware this might be the last time you spoke to Nanami for a long while, if ever. 

He inhaled on the other side, as if picking apart his words to answer you with the perfect building blocks to fit the hole he knew he’d left behind. 

“This life, our life... is not suited for romantic relationships. I couldn’t bring myself to step out the door and do what I do — what we do — knowing I could leave someone at the wake of my demise any day. In this life, we should die alone.” 

You sighed and sipped on your wine, leaning against the edge of your dinner table.

“Don’t preach to the choir, Kento. I know how this gig goes, but I think you’re lying to both of us right now.” 

“I... I don’t know,” he remarked. His voice sounded lost, strained, decades older than himself, and he pleaded for a light, if you could ever so kindly offer him one.

“I think...” you began, trying to be as unfiltered as possible, “you ran away from me, just as you ran away from Jujutsu High years ago. You were afraid just the same. Somehow, you surpassed the fear of dying any day on the job, but are still to surpass the fear of risking loss again, of lov-“

You bit your tongue before finishing your sentence, but he noticed it. 

“Please, continue. The fear of what?”

He knew. 

“Of loving.”

Nanami kept silent for a while, the only telltale sign the call hadn’t ended being the sound of his drink’s ice cubes clinking against the rim of his glass.

His voice came back, a deep, husky tone cutting through the silence like a silk thread. 

“I want to see you.” 

“Kento, you’re drunk.” 

“Yes. And I want to see you, I have thought about it for a long time, and I believe you have too, just the same.”

He was right. Oftentimes, in the silent hours of the night, after the thud from your shoes falling in the entryway subsided leaving a void of sound behind, you missed his warmth, his arms wrapped around your waist, the feeling of his body pressing against your back. There had been others, but no one could compare to him — to Nanami.

How many others there had been for him? Had they measured up to you?

You shoved the thought away, trying to not dwell on it for too long. 

“I have,” you answered honestly. 

“We could try again. We could...” 

“Kento...” you cooed, realizing this was the same voice you’d use whenever you purred at him when you were enveloped under the covers, sharing your own tiny private sliver of the universe. 

“Please...” his tone came strained, pained in response to how you called his name — the way only his lover ever did. You. 

“It’s 4:00 in the morning, we... let’s talk this over dinner. We have the time. Moving around tomorrow will be terrible because of Halloween, but we could... after tomorrow?”

You felt the faintest hint of butterflies around your chest, something you hadn’t felt in a long time. Not with anyone else but him.

He sighed on the other side, equal parts intrepid and relieved. 

“Okay. I’ll come to Kyoto after tomorrow so that we can have this conversation properly. In person.”

You tried to exhale away your own disquiet, quivering in anticipation for seeing Nanami again after so many years. 

“It’s a date, then.”

He huffed the faintest chuckle. 

“It is.”

You clicked the big red button on your phone’s screen, and the call ended.

—

End notes:

You already know... Had The Big Sad™️ and decided to turn it into everybody else’s problem. This is an adaptation of a HiguNana piece I posted on AO3 (but if you want to read the fic like reader is Hiromi, I won’t try to stop you 👀).

[vrystalius]

I've been wanting to send in this ask from quite a while , could i please request reader x kyojuro where they were talking about his late mother and the reader holds him the same way his mother did when he was younger unknowingly to comfort him , thank you for reading ! take care <3

Kyojuro being held.

Hugging and offering your comfort to Kyojuro after finding him in front of Ruka’s shine.

Pairing: Kyojuro x gn!reader

Kyojuro makes sure to pray for his mother before heading out on missions. Senjuro makes sure to keep the shrine clean and tidy when his older brother is away, dusting off every surface and repositioning the portraits of Ruka to face the house properly, and Kyojuro appreciates it greatly. It’s comforting to him to just kneel down onto the soft pillow in front of the carefully chiseled shrine, to light some incense and mutter quiet prayers under his breath while bowing his head. It always feels like Ruka’s watching over him and making sure he, his little brother and father are doing fine. Although his father could use a little more watching and maybe some divine scolding from his mother.

He was just about to grab his sheathed katana and prepare to head out when Kyojuro felt a warm hand touch his back and slowly wrap around his shoulders. Turning his head to check to was pulling him into their embrace was not needed, he knew it was you.

“My love, you’re here. Would you like to get to know my mother a little? I realised I barely speak of her.”

Kyojuro had a small smile on his face that had a tinge of sadness to it. You scooted a little closer, sitting right next to him as he took one of the flowers that were placed into Ruka’s favourite vase and handed it to you.

“It was her favourite flower. I remember my father bringing home a new batch everytime he returned from a mission. Senjuro liked knocking the vases over, so father always made sure to put them out of his reach. They always died so quickly ever since mother got sick, father forgot to change the waters every time.”

His smile brightened slightly while watching you twirl and inspect the flower in your hand. Kyojuro’s gaze lifted and he looked at your face as a whole, brushing his fingers across your cheekbones and cheeks.

“My mother would’ve loved you. You’re so sweet and kind to me, always waiting up on me into the middle of the night to greet me, and you always spoil me with your cuddles and cooking. You’re almost heavenly sent!”

Realising what he said, his smile softened again. Kyojuro scooted closer to you and gently wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his head on your shoulder.

“Perhaps my mother sent you.”

He mumbled into your shoulder, his hold getting tighter. He shivered slightly when one of your arms gently wrapped around his shoulders, your other arm resting on his broad shoulders and running through his bright locks. Kyojuro sighed deeply and closed his eyes, melting against your touch.

Just for a split second he was back in Ruka’s arms, listening to her voice and how he should use his strength to protect others who cannot do it themselves. You two remained like this for what felt like an eternity, and he was never planning on letting go. But after opening his eyes and pulling away from your gentle hug, he was just staring into your eyes, being reminded once again why he wants to propose to you so badly.

“I didn’t think I needed that hug but I seemingly did. Thank you.”

Kyojuro sighed and stood up, brushing off some dust off his pants and offering you a hand to stand back up.

“I believe I can postpone my mission for a little longer. I’ll move during nightfall, that way we can spend more time together. Would you like to hear more about my mother? We can help my little brother prepare dinner meanwhile, I’m sure he’d like to hear about mother a little too!”

💠

Thank you so much for requesting!! Hope you enjoyed it, anon! I just love writing about cuddles and holding, running fingers through hairs and just soft fluff. Maybe because I’m often tired and want to be treated like that XD

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!

Take care of yourselves <3

[bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky]

After All This Time | Bucky Barnes x Reader

Hello! Who wants to have their feelings hurt?! 🙋🏻‍♀️ I love some good angst, some pain, some emotional turmoil. 

Warnings: relationship drama, references to violence, arguments, crying, ex!Bucky

“What are you doing here?” You stared at Bucky, shocked. Perplexed. He had no business at your apartment. Especially not so late at night. Especially not after what he’d done. The way he’d treated you. It took a long time- too long- to achieve some sense of normalcy after things fell apart. After he broke your heart. You weren’t over him; you feared you never would be. But you finally arrived at something that resembled stability. You were nearly okay- nearly.

But Bucky’s unexpected presence took you out at the knees. Was he always this beautiful? Or did you just miss him? His hair was a bit longer, his stubble a little scruffier. His deep blue eyes softened at the sight of you. No, he was always this beautiful. Dammit.

His expression was stern. Serious. Just like it had been when he left. He’d promised you he’d never come back. “Can I come in?” He was a liar, apparently.

“What? No.”

Bucky breezed past you anyway.

You crossed your arms over your chest, hiding the fact that you weren’t wearing a bra. Your arms hugged your body, crisscrossing over your old college shirt. Thank god you hadn’t opted to wear one of the many henleys he’d left behind. The humiliation of him seeing you in one of his old shirts would’ve been too much. You knew you shouldn’t wear them anymore, but you couldn’t help it. Couldn’t stop yourself from cloaking your body in the comfort they provided. It was sad, maybe even a little pathetic. But you didn’t know how to stop.

“Hey- You can’t just barge into my apartment-”

“Shut the door.”

You stared at him, incredulous. “No. What do you- get out.”

Bucky closed and locked the door for you. His fingers twisted the key in the deadbolt and fastened the chain. He even pulled on the door once- then twice. It was secure. He positioned his body in front of it- either blocking your way out or someone else’s way in. You weren’t sure which.

“Go pack a bag. We’re leaving here in five minutes.” He checked his watch, “Sooner, if you can manage it.” He looked up from his wrist and finally let himself drink you in. Were you always this breathtaking? Or was he just happy to see you? Your skin glowed in the yellow light of your reading lamp. Your hair was shorter now- he liked it. Yeah, you were always this intoxicating. Bucky wondered how he could even question it.

“Are you out of your mind? We’re not going anywhere.” Anger was easier. Easier than sadness, than heartbreak. You let wrath wrap itself around your heart, shielding you from the pain. Bucky didn’t belong in your home anymore, no matter how badly you wished he did. He didn’t want to be here- he didn’t want you. He’d made that painfully clear.

And though part of you liked seeing him here, existing in the home you once shared, you knew it would only serve to hurt you. Your voice was quieter this time, less confident, “You need to leave.”

He let out a huff, as though he had the right to be annoyed with you. “Just trust me on this,”,

“Trust you? That’s hilarious-”

“You’re not safe here,” he said. His tone was firm, irrefutable. “Someone attacked Pepper and Morgan. Clint’s wife, Laura, and their kids. Murdock’s associate- that guy Nelson.”

A burst of worry shot through you, “Shit. Are they okay?”

“They’re fine. They’ve all been relocated.” He wondered how you could worry about others while bypassing any concern for yourself. But the distress on your face was real; you’d gotten close with the families of the team before Bucky left. They welcomed you like one of their own, and your care for them survived even after things with Bucky died.

“Sam is taking his sister and her kids somewhere- everyone’s moving their loved ones.”

Silence. You waited for Bucky to elaborate. He waited for you to put the pieces together.

“So… why are you here? What does any of that have to do with me?”

“Hydra. They’re coming after our lov-” Bucky cleared his throat, “the people in our lives.”

You shook your head, “Yeah, I get that. But I’m not in your life.”

Bucky knew you weren’t his anymore, but hearing you say it cut him to the bone.

The strong façade you wore threatened to crumble. This was too much for you- almost cruel. Back when things were good, they were really good. You planned on staying with Bucky forever. You saw yourself marrying him, spending the rest of your days together. He’d had other plans. He left you. And never looked back.

“I’m fine here,” you told him. “I don’t need you.”

Bucky struggled for words. This was harder than he thought. “Well… they- they don’t know that we...” He couldn’t bring himself to say it. “Hydra, I mean, they don’t know what um, what happened. We were pretty public- they might think we’re still together. So, I need to get you to a safe house. Just in case.”

“Why?” The question hung heavy in the air.

Bucky didn’t say a word.

“Since when do you care? Don’t act like I matter to you all of a sudden- don’t pretend that you’re worried about me.” You forced every ounce of emotion behind an impenetrable wall, “leave. I’m serious, I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“You’re in danger. And I…” He ran a hand through his hair “Just come with me. Let me protect you.”

“I’m not yours to protect.” The stinging sensation of approaching tears burned behind your eyes. “So… you can go.”

Your words gutted him. He hadn’t felt this much pain since he left, since the last time he saw you. He’d left you alone in the apartment you once shared. He’d shut the door and stood on the other side, unable to walk away. His forehead rested against the wood, and he listened to you. The sound of you sobbing- wailing- drove stakes into his chest. But he knew it was better this way.

“Yeah, I know that…” he said, his voice softer now. “But your family, your friends- they’ll be devastated if something happens to you. Don’t do that to them. Come with me. And when this blows over, I’ll leave you alone. I promise.”

You hated that he was right. To let your pride endanger your life was selfish, stupid. You could practically hear your mom telling you to go with him.

But there was a side of you would rather die at the hands of Hydra than share a safe house with Bucky. Sure, you missed him. A lot. You wished he’d never walked out that door. But spending days- or weeks- with him? Just the two of you? In a secluded location? It would tear you to pieces.

You grumbled under your breath, “fine. How long will we be gone?”

“I don’t know.”

“Okay, then- where are we going?”

He shrugged, “I don’t know. Coordinates will be sent to the jet once we board.”

“Okay, great. Perfect. I don’t know how much to pack. I don’t know what kind of clothes I need. Awesome. Thanks, James.” You turned on your heel and headed toward your bedroom, “I’ll be out in a minute.”

James. James. You’d never called him James. Ever. Not even in a joking sense. He was always Bucky or Buck or Barnes or baby- depending on the context. Never James. It was so impersonal, you regarding him by his government name. So cold. Distant. He knew he deserved it- deserved way worse. But it stung, nonetheless.

With you busy in the other room, Bucky drank in the warmth of your apartment. It was inviting, cozy. Just like always. You’d gotten a few new pieces of art since he left; they took up the spaces left empty by the photos you removed. The picture of the two of you from a Stark gala. A strip of the two of you laughing in a photo booth at the pier. A polaroid of him kissing your cheek at Sam’s birthday party. He wondered what you did with them. Did you still have them- somewhere? Did you hide them away in a dusty box under the bed he used to share with you?

Or did you burn them?

He missed living there. Missed waking up next to you, missed making dinner for you. Missed you.

“Hey, I’m sorry to call so late…” you said into your phone, cradling it between your ear and your shoulder. “I’m gonna have to work from, um- I have to leave town for a little while.”

Bucky heard you on the phone with your boss, doing your best to lie your way through the situation. But you didn’t give much detail, just like he’d taught you when you first started dating. He told you never to trust anyone fully- never to believe that someone is worthy of every secret. He’d been speaking about outsiders. But when he left, he proved to you that no one deserved your trust. Not even him.

“Yeah, just family stuff,” he heard you say. “My cousin has been sick and took a turn for the worst, so… I need to be there just in case.”

He was so proud.

You stuffed clothes into a bag and rounded up the necessary toiletries. Your laptop, headphones, and a few books made the cut, and you grabbed the bag’s zipper, prepared to give it a final yank. But as you tried to close it up, a piece of fabric caught your eye. You let out a deep sigh. You’d moved on instinct, grabbing things from your closet and dresser without thinking. And some of Bucky’s old clothes had found their way among your items.

A flannel, two henleys, and a sweatshirt sat nestled at the bottom of your bag. They were some of your favorite things to wear- soft, comfortable, cozy. But you couldn’t bring them with you. Not when there was a chance Bucky would see them. You quickly swapped them out with pieces that didn’t belong to him and thanked the universe you’d noticed before it was too late.

When you emerged moments later with duffel bag in hand, Bucky was waiting for you. He hadn’t moved from his spot by the door. Hadn’t taken off his jacket. He wasn’t welcome here anymore. And making himself at home wasn’t right.

“Uh, here’s this,” he outstretched a hand in your direction and offered you a phone. “We can’t be sure that your phone isn’t being tracked. So, you have to leave yours here. This is a burner- just for emergencies.”

You dropped your phone on the counter with a dramatic groan and took the burner from his hand. Not only were you to be trapped for an indeterminant amount of time with the man who ripped your heart out of your chest and eviscerated it in front of your eyes- but you also had to give up your phone. “This feels like a kidnapping.”

“Yeah. Sorry.” He made a move for your bag, “I can take that for you-”

“I got it”.

With a nod, he opened the door and checked the hall for potential dangers. And when he deemed it safe, he gestured for you to join him. He watched you lock the door- and smiled to himself when he realized you still used the same key. You never changed the locks after he left.

“This is the most conspicuous thing I’ve ever seen…” A jet sat on the roof of your building, just a few feet from the stairwell. “If Hydra didn’t know where I was before, they definitely do now.”

Bucky gave an awkward laugh, paired with a quiet “yeah”, and tried to help you board. But you shied away from any attempts as assistance. You needed to prove to Bucky that you didn’t need him anymore- no matter how untrue it was.

The flight was awkward. Quiet. Tense. You couldn’t escape to the back of the jet and hide from Bucky- there was no ‘back’. It was a small aircraft. Only enough room for two. It forced you to sit next to him, watching clouds paint with windows with their condensation as the jet sliced through the sky.

“So…” Bucky said after a while, “how’ve you been?”

You quieted him with a look.

The answer to his question was complicated- you didn‘t have the emotional energy to explain. Diving into how angry and miserable and lonely you’d been since his departure would take hours. Maybe days. And he didn’t deserve the inside scoop. He wasn’t welcome to your secrets or the inner workings of your mind- not anymore.

“We’re here…” Bucky said, his voice pulling you from your light sleep. You didn’t realize you’d nodded off. But sleep was the only escape from the painfully awkward situation he’d put you in.

“Okay, so…” Bucky opened the door to the house and gestured for you to enter before him. Still such a gentleman. “I know this place is kinda small. But I’m gonna do my best to not be in your space.” He flipped on a few lights and bathed the house in a warm yellow light. “They promised that the kitchen is stocked. I think there’s firewood somewhere in case we get cold. And there should be clean sheets and towels and stuff in a closet somewhere. As for the, um…” He cleared his throat, “the sleeping arrangements. There’s only one bedroom, so it’s yours- I’m gonna take the couch.”

He threw his bag over the back of the couch and watched it bounce against the cushions. “Let me know if you need anything.”

What you needed, he couldn’t give you. He couldn’t go back in time and reverse the effects of breaking your heart. He couldn’t rid you of the agony brought on by his absence. And so, with a curt nod, you bid him goodnight.

It was nearly three in the morning by the time you made the bed and crawled beneath the covers. You curled into a ball and pulled the blankets up over your head, as though protecting yourself. This had to be a joke. A prank. The wound Bucky’s departure caused had barely scabbed over- and his return flayed it wide open. It throbbed and ached as you cried under the safety of your blankets. You didn’t know what you’d done in a past life to deserve hurt like this.

Bucky collapsed onto the couch. He slumped forward and rested his head in his hands, replaying every moment since you opened the door. The look on your face when you saw him again, the disdain in your voice, the distrust you held for him- it made his chest ache. He hated himself for throwing away the best thing he’d ever had. For hurting you. For breaking the trust you’d built together.

He didn’t sleep that night- the pain didn’t let him. He, instead, remained awake. Wired. He cleaned his guns. Double and triple checked his supply of ammo. He made sure every window was locked, every door secure. He wasn’t going to let anything happen to you.

The following day passed slowly. Bucky made enough breakfast for both of you, and kept your portion warm while he did the dishes and waited for you to wake. But you never joined him. You remained holed up in your room, miserable.

You didn’t care about Hydra; they couldn’t hurt you more than Bucky already had. Sure, they could beat you senseless and bleed you dry. They could torture you and hold you hostage. But it simply couldn’t compare. Physical injuries heal. They scab over and turn to scars. But the pain Bucky caused never ceased. The wound bled day and night. His mark on you could never be fixed.

Only when your hunger pangs grew painful did you leave the safety of your room.

“Hey, I made breakfast…” Bucky said when you finally emerged, “I tried to keep yours warm but- it’s in the fridge if you want it. I know it’s well past breakfast time and you probably don’t want cold spinach scramble and hashbrowns, but-”

He was being so nice;  he still remembered your favorite breakfast. You thought back on all the Sunday mornings you’d spent together, making breakfast and listening to music. Drinking coffee. Dancing in the kitchen until the food almost burned. But you banished the memories. And sent away the warm feelings brought on by Bucky cooking for you again.

You didn’t make eye contact, didn’t thank him. Instead, you rummaged through the cabinets until you found a jar of peanut butter and a loaf of bread. “I’ll make something for myself,” you told him.

“Oh- okay, yeah. Knives are in the drawer to your left.” Bucky felt himself hovering. He stood across the kitchen island from you like an expectant child hoping for the approval of a stern parent. He knew he’d never get it, didn’t deserve it. But he couldn’t help himself. Being so close to you felt good. Really good. And though he’d promised he wouldn’t invade your space, he found it impossible to walk away.

You, however, couldn’t get away fast enough. You hastily made a sandwich and grabbed a glass of water before retreating to you room, safe from Bucky’s gaze. With the door shut, you allowed yourself to sink down to the floor. A gnawing sense of soul-crushing sadness eclipsed any feelings of hunger. But you forced the sandwich down anyway. You swore to yourself that everything would be okay, that you’d go home soon enough and try once again to heal.  

But you didn’t believe your own words.

Bucky hated how uncomfortable you were around him. It was his fault, and he knew it, but it made him sad all the same. At one time, he’d been the person you loved most. The person you  cared for. The one you could trust. You knew, without a doubt, that you could go to him with anything. Any problem, any worry- no matter how small. And he’d find a way to make it better. And if he couldn’t fix it, he could at least make you smile. He could bring you comfort and make you feel safe. Loved. He was the only one you wanted. The only person for you. His soul and yours were forged in the same fire- just a few decades apart.

But that fire was dead- snuffed out. And Bucky no longer held the secret key to your heart. He brought you only anguish and anxiety. Torment. Agony. And he hated himself for it.

He wondered if you’d spent all your time hiding in that bedroom. He wouldn’t blame you if you did. You weren’t happy around him like you used to be- why would you subject yourself to such unpleasant feelings unless it were absolutely necessary? He resolved to give you as much space as possible, to leave the room when you made your way to the kitchen. To not hover. Anything to make you more comfortable.

And if that meant that he didn’t get to speak to you for the remainder of your time in hiding, then so be it.

That night, however, he got to speak to you again.

He didn’t rest the night of your arrival, not even for a moment. And it finally got to him. He turned in early, falling asleep on the floor in front of the fireplace. The last few embers glowed orange beneath the charred wood, but all warmth was gone. His sleeping form tossed and turned beneath a thin blanket. Droplets of sweat bloomed from his skin as heaving breaths forced their way into his chest.

A familiar sound woke you in the middle of the night. You hadn’t heard it in quite some time, but knew you’d never forget it. Bucky was having a nightmare. And before you had a moment to rethink your actions, you were up. You ditched your bedding and fled in the direction of his screams.

And he woke to the soft sound of your voice.

“Bucky, hey…” you placed your hands on his shoulders. “Hey, wake up. Bucky-”

His eyes flew open and quickly focused on your face. And though your presence brought a relief he hadn’t experienced in what felt like years, it was too late. His heart hammered against his ribs; his lungs burned. He couldn’t breathe.

“You’re okay. You’re alright. Here-” One of your hands migrated from his shoulder to his chest while the other searched for one of his. You dragged his hand upward and mirrored the placement, pressing his palm to your sternum. It was muscle memory, a deep-seeded reflex you didn’t know you still had. You used to do it every night- back when Bucky was still yours. He liked it. He said it made him feel like you were synching your heartbeat with his. And it always calmed him down.

Bucky let loose a deep sigh of relief. It seemed to come from somewhere else completely, like he’d been holding his breath since the last time he touched you. Your pulse beat strong and steady beneath his hand, thudding against his palm like his own personal metronome. And maybe it was all in his head, but he felt his own heartrate slow. He breathed easier. A smile pricked at the corners of his mouth.

But you pulled away all too soon.

Bucky sat up in pursuit of your recoiling hand, “Thank you…”

“Yeah.” You stood, hoping to make it back to your room before the tears began to fall. But Bucky’s words stopped you.

“I really- I really appreciate you waking me. And doing… that. For me.” He felt himself growing sheepish, but couldn’t let the encroaching embarrassment get the best of him. “I missed it- I missed you.”

Something in you snapped.

You turned toward him with a strange mixture of anger and pain burning behind your eyes, your breathing growing ever sharper.

“Why am I here?” Your tone was calm, measured. It was the kind of rage that turned your words to ice. To stone.

He cocked his head to the side, “um, because of Hydra. Because you’re in danger…”

“But why am I here?” You felt yourself losing control, “You heard they were going after the team’s loved ones and you thought to yourself, ‘hmm, that girl I completely destroyed, that girl whose life I ruined, that girl who I most certainly do not love, that girl I left for no reason, she’s in danger! Hydra will probably go after her, you know, since I haven’t seen her or spoken to her in almost a year!’”

Bucky didn’t know what to say.

“This makes no fucking sense, James!”

James. You’d let one or two ‘Buckys’ slip earlier- never again.

“Why did you come to my apartment? Why did you fucking kidnap me and bring me to this stupid house? Why did you put me on the same tier as Tony’s wife? As Clint’s wife? We aren’t together, I’m not in your life, and I’m certainly not a ‘loved one’- you made that painfully clear.  Why did you-”

“Because I still love you”

You rolled your tear-filled eyes, “Don’t you fucking lie to me.”

“I’m not lying…” Bucky sighed. “I swear on my life.”

An ugly scoff broke free from your throat, “I’m supposed to believe that? You once ‘swore on your life’ that you’d never hurt me. And that shit clearly wasn’t true, so-”

“I swear on Steve’s life. I swear on his grave,” Bucky’s voice wavered ever so slightly. “I still love you. I never stopped.”

It rendered you speechless.

“I never wanted to hurt you. And I didn’t want to leave. But I didn’t know what else to do.”

You stared at him for a moment, dumbfounded. “You ‘didn’t know what else to do’? You left me because you ‘didn’t know what else to do’?”

Bucky shook his head. Regret pooled in his chest, and he wished to take back every stupid word. “That’s not what I meant-” he sighed. “I mean… I’m- I’m not meant for this. To be with someone. To be loved. Bad stuff- really bad stuff- follows me around. The war and the train and Hydra and Zemo and Thanos and the blip and the Flag Smashers and-”

He fought to catch his breath. “I break things. Anything I touch- it gets ruined.” He paused for a moment. Everything inside his head moved too fast. It blurred past him and fell from his lips before he had a chance to make edits. And if he was going to fix this, he needed to be in control.

“I never wanted to break you. Or put you in danger.”

“You never hurt me- physically…” you said. “You know I was never scared of you- I didn’t think I was ever in danger with you. I didn’t think you’d break me-”

“No, I know. I know.” Getting to that point had been hard for him. He shied away from you for so long, scared he’d somehow make you bleed or paint your skin with bruises. But you’d worked with him. You showed him patience and moved at his pace, working through the fear he held.

“What I mean is… I got scared because people knew about us. Our relationship was public. And I was afraid that putting you in the public eye like that would invite danger. A lot of people hate me- they want revenge. Retribution. So I thought…” he rolled his eyes at his past-self, at the version of him who let you get away. “I thought removing myself from your life would ensure your safety.” He shrugged, “no one would have reason to come after you if we weren’t together-”

“And look where we are now…” you said, “Hiding. In a safehouse. Because my life is in jeopardy.” Part of you- the soft side- wanted to show him mercy. To hold him and make him feel safe. To console him. But the side of you who wore brass knuckles and steel toed bootsa prevailed, “That was a really fucking stupid thing to do…”

Bucky gave a pained chuckle, “yeah, I- I know.” His cheeks reddened ever so slightly, and his shoulders slumped with shame. He knew he fucked up. “I’m sorry. About all of it. About leaving. About hurting you- God, I never wanted to hurt you.” The pain in his eyes could’ve made you crumble.

“And I’m sorry about putting you in harm’s way. About abducting you like this.” He took a small step in your direction; he couldn’t pretend like he wasn’t drawn to you. But he knew he had no right to exist in such close proximity to the person he hurt. And so he stopped himself, no matter how badly he wished he didn’t have to.

“But to answer your question with full honesty…” he said,  “you’re here because I love you. Because I’ll always love you. And even though you hate my guts- which you absolutely should- I care about you. And I want to keep you safe, as safe as I can. I want to protect you.” He let out a sigh, “And I know you’re not… you’re not mine to protect, but-” The words tasted like vinegar. If Bucky thought hearing them hurt, he was wrong. Saying them was far worse. “you’re here because I would rather die than let anything happen to you.”

He didn’t like the way your shoulders were yanked up near your ears, the way your arms sat crossed over your chest- like you were trying to protect yourself. But he understood. He’d hurt you- badly. Left you gutted and bleeding. He knew you’d never trust another thing he said- rightfully so.

Silent tears flowed freely down your cheeks and dripped down your neck. The weight of Bucky’s words forced you to lean against the nearest wall. Everything your friends said about him, everything your family told you- it was wrong. He wasn’t apathetic. He wasn’t inconsiderate or manipulative. He was just misguided- maybe a little stupid.

“I told myself…” you finally said, “for months, I told myself that you never loved me. That you used me to make yourself feel better.”

Bucky vehemently shook his head, “that’s not-”

“What was I supposed to do? I needed something to make me feel better…” you said. “It was easier to think that you never loved me. But you left me because you loved me? That’s- that was a terrible idea, by the way.”

“I know…”

A fresh wave of tears cascaded from your eyes and left droplets on your shirt. “I want… I want to believe you. I want to believe every nice thing you just said and pick up right where we left off. But I’m…” You pulled the sleeves of your shirt over your hands and wiped the tears from your cheeks, “I’m scared- I’m scared to trust you again. To let my guard down.”

Bucky took another small step in your direction. “That’s fine, that’s… understandable- more than understandable. Smart.”

You nodded.

“And I don’t want you to think- I’m not telling you all of this to convince you to get back together with me. Or to upset you- I never want to hurt you again. You just deserve to know the truth. So…”

He wondered how the two of you got to this point. How you went from domestic bliss to something so ugly. But he knew exactly how it happened- it was his fault. And he didn’t deserve a second chance. He deserved to be alone for the rest of his life while you moved on, found someone new- someone better. He wanted that for you. Of course, he’d rather have you all to himself. But it wasn’t right.

“It’s just- I’ve been regretting… well, everything, since the moment I left. I wish I would’ve talked to you, you know? I wish I was honest. I wish I told you what was going on inside my head.” He ran a hand through his hair, “maybe things would’ve been different.”

“You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted to hear you say these things…” you said. “But now that you’re saying them it feels…” The floor rocked beneath your feet. You teetered to the side and reached for the arm of the couch- it was all too much. The lack of sleep, the emotional exhaustion, the weight of Bucky’s words. You needed to sit.

Bucky reached for you, desperate to help you steady yourself- but he pulled away. He didn’t have permission to touch you. Not anymore.

“Things absolutely would’ve been different,” you let out a deep sigh. Every possible outcome you came up with ended far better than the reality. “Because we would’ve worked through it together. As a team. And no one would’ve gotten hurt.”

All Bucky could do was nod.

“And maybe we’d still end up in this safe house, but we’d probably use it as a makeshift romantic getaway instead of an agonizingly awkward prison sentence.”

The thought brought a smile to Bucky’s face, to yours. It was easy to imagine the two of you camped out in the living room, reading by the fire and drinking old-fashioneds. You’d stay up late watching movies together and sleep until noon. And when the threat was eliminated, you’d almost wish for more danger- anything to keep the two of you in your own little world.

Everything went quiet. Neither of you knew what to say- or if there were any words appropriate for the situation. Was there even anything else to be said? Part of you wanted to retreat to your bedroom. To hide under your covers. But you wouldn’t allow yourself to squander this moment.

A sad smile pulled at your lips. “I don’t know where… where are we supposed to go from here?” You stared at Bucky as though he had all the answers, as though it wasn’t him who burned your world to the ground.

“I don’t think we have to go anywhere,” he said. “Nothing has to change between us- like I said, I’m not trying to change your opinion about me or make you feel bad. When this whole thing blows over, I’ll take you home. I’ll stay out of your hair.” He leaned against the wall opposite you, submitting to his future- and to his past, “I know I can’t change what I did.”

Another long silence filled the space. It pushed its way in between the two of you and rested heavy against your chest. Bucky waited for a curt ‘okay’ or a quick ‘goodnight’, but no such thing came.

“What if I don’t want that?” you said after a while.

He pushed away from the wall, as though your words pulled him upright. “What?”

“What if I want to try again?” Your heart thundered against your chest, growing faster and faster with each passing second.  You stood on the precipice, willing yourself to fall. This was your chance, the opportunity you’d hoped for. And though it sent fear coursing through your veins, you knew you had to jump.

“No matter how many times I tell myself that you hurt me for the fun of it or that you never actually loved me, I don’t believe it. I can’t- even if I want to…” you let out a sad laugh. “Because I know who you are- I know what we had was real. And I think- I know it’s worth trying again.”

A quick flash of pain and anxiety tore through you, hollowing your chest, “And yeah, maybe I’m stupid for being overly optimistic or letting myself be vulnerable with you. But I’m… I’m willing to risk getting hurt all over again.”

Bucky stood stone still, rooted in place. This was all he’d ever wanted. But now that he had it, he feared the thing his heart desired most. What if he fucked up again? What if he hurt you again? What if he squandered his  second chance?

“Are you…” Bucky took a deep breath, “are you sure?”

“I’m sure. Because you’re the only person I’ll ever want, Buck. Because I love you.”

Bucky never thought he’d hear those words again. And before he knew it, he was on the ground in front of you. He sunk to his knees, incapable of standing any longer. He couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. His tears dampened your skin as he let his head fall against your thighs. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you as close as he possible could. He feared you’d change your mind, that you’d take back everything you said. And if you did, he at least wanted to know that he held you. That he touched you one last time.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry- you have no idea how sorry I am”, he said between sharp breaths. “I’m gonna make it up to you. I’m gonna make it all up to you, okay? I promise. I’m going to spend the rest of my life proving to you that I love you, that I’d rather die than lose you again. And I’m-”

“Okay, hey… let’s relax a bit.” You met him on the floor and pulled his head against your chest. You ran a hand along his back, soothing him. His shaky breaths were so sharp, so ragged, that they seemed almost painful. “Breathe, Buck. I love you, okay? And I know you love me- I know. You don’t have to prove it.”

Bucky tried to deliver a rebuttal, but you wouldn’t allow it.

“Hey- it’s okay. We’re okay.” You tangled your fingers in his hair, eliciting a deep sigh from his chest. “We’re both tired. And emotional. Let’s just go to sleep, okay? It’s the middle of the night- we can talk things through in the morning.” You gently pulled his head from your chest and swiped the tears from his cheeks. Touching him again, holding him, provided the salve you needed. The wound in your chest started healing. The pain ceased. And for the first time in almost a year, you felt whole.

Your hands found Bucky’s and pulled him up right. With a gentle tug, you led him in the direction of your room.

“Come on,” you said, “let’s go to bed, baby.”

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

Tag list: @beefybuckrrito @shadytalementality  @everything-burns-down @rainbow-unicorn-pony @mandersshow @breakablebarnes @psychoticmason @glxwingrxse @deepsketchsupernaturalcowboy @mrsdrysdale18 @lonewolf471 @dreamerglassesgirl l @the-gods-gloted-but-they-burned @purpleshallot @duchessoftheheart @seitmai @itvy5601 @hisxsoulmate @dailyreverie  @navs-bhat @eviesaurusrex @themorningsunshine @masteroflightningz @evangeliamerryll  @buckys-metal-arm @broadwaybabe18 @the-kestrels-feather @avocadotoastwithegg @goldylions​ @lokisasgardianvampirequeen​ @vrittivsanghavi @idkitsem@avengetheunnatural @rassvetsky​

[c0ld0utside]

Do you write angst/sadder ideas?

I had a idea of a reader whose mother died during birth, and because of the grief their father accidentally ignored them? Working constantly, missing important events. Like he’s not the worst father, just absent. could make him rich so reader spends more time with a nanny then their own father.

So reader runs away, and the father finally realized what he did and has to try to find reader? (Readers at a friends house but the father doesn’t really know their friends. Or something like that idk)

sorry if this is long or something that’s boring, perfectly fine if you don’t want to do it :)))

Sorry this took me so long. No TW's really (not that I know of at least).

Could you blame him? Being a single father was hard, especially when you’re a CEO for a company that owns other companies and so on… and when you remind him so much of who he lost. Maybe it’s your eyes, or your face shape or the texture of your hair. Maybe even the way you talk. Regardless, Steven was a busy, sad, mourning man who’s grief worsened upon seeing you, his only child.

He tried to make it up to you. He hired you a nanny- Ms. Noya- to be there for you instead. He’d send you birthday cards- May 18th is your birthday, right? Steven would even send you cupcakes- only to find years later that you didn’t like cupcakes. Odd. Who doesn’t like cupcakes? Whatever. Point is, he tries. Even if Steven’s work is more important than you and those soccer matches and choir concerts that he missed.

At least Ms. Noya attended, right? Well- even if she couldn’t make it to all of your games at least someone is cheering you on. Steven doesn’t know that some of your classmates make fun of you for needing a Nanny. That they mock you for your lack of attention. That Mommy died because of you and Daddy hates you for it.

If he had known sooner he would’ve dismissed all of those things. Told you that no, he doesn’t hate you for what happened because- well, these things happen. He and your mother knew the risks. Steven just didn’t expect it to hurt as much as it did.

Steven stands there in your empty bedroom on the verge of having a panic attack. After seeing your posts online of games you won and concerts you were a part of, he mustered up his courage and decided to finally come home. Only to find that you weren’t there. Nor was your Nanny. He searched all over the home, calling out for you and Ms. Noya but got no answer. He tried calling you with his phone- you wouldn’t pick up.

So, he searched your room and found your diary. Steven knew it was a #1 rule to not go through your child’s diary, but he needed clues to where you were. And he hasn’t spoken to you in so long- it suddenly hit him that he knew nothing about you. How shameful.

…

Steven set the diary down with a shaky sigh.

I don’t know why I’m still not used to him being here.

I’ve been throwing the cupcakes away.

I don’t even use most of the stuff he gives me. I should give it away. It’s cluttering up my room and closet.

I wish he’d actually just stop by for once. I didn’t kill her. It’s not my fault. I don’t even want to be here.

Fuck this. I don’t know why I’m still waiting for him. I’m going to Lucy’s.

Lucy? Who is Lucy? A friend? Steven quickly calls up the school to ask them about a “Lucy.” On a rare stroke of luck, there’s only one Lucy in your school. After getting her address (people are so easily bribed with money), Steven immediately called the police.

Was it the best reaction? Noooo. But come on- if it was him who had showed up you wouldn’t have come back. Steven was sure of that. Especially after reading your diary. (He was 100% wrong.)

Yeah you freaked out on him once you got home. He expected that! You were just put in a police car after all. It’s amusing, really, how nervous he is. Him, Steven (l/n), a CEO that essentially has it all. Has been through countless meetings where he was calm and precise and knew what to say.

“I’m really sorry sweetheart! I didn’t know where you were and I- …I had to see you. I know it’s been a long while and that that’s an understatement but it’s been so long and I need to make it all up to you.”

-

Going back to school the next day had been extremely awkward for you and your friends. When you got home, you were horrified to find out that Ms. Noya had been…”removed,” putting it lightly.

“I’m going to be working from home from now on, so we won’t be needing her anymore.” Steven had told you. He shushed you when you started to protest, patting your head like a toddler.

“I know there are huge changes happening, but it’s okay! I’ll fix everything and we can make up for lost time. I promise.”

“Daddy’s here now, and he won’t leave you alone again.”

____

Yall I'm sorry this is taking me so long forgive me please. My chromebook has been acting up so I'm stuck writing on my phone.

Criticism is welcome. Remember to drink some water and eat.

[yjcorefourenjoyer]

Photo evidence part 6

Tim’s life is officially over!

So apparently, the new Robin is not, in fact, fine! He’s dead! Gone! Went BOOM, if you will! And now, without Tim being able to grieve AT ALL for the Robin he had bonded with and probably spent more time with than his actual parents,

Tim had to pick up the pieces of the mess Jason left behind. (He’ll have a breakdown later)

Batman has been going off the rails, beating criminals to near death (they would’ve been dead if he hadn’t called the ambulance), hurting civilians, breaking more laws than ever, pushing everyone away, and letting injuries get worse and worse and worse…

To put it simply, he was killing himself! 

It was like he wasn’t even the same person, especially after Jason’s funeral, and Tim had a front row seat to the destruction.

Some villains thought that Batman being in this state would make it harder to enact their plans and went into hiding. While the others (the more powerful or the idiotic) decided it would be easier! 

Almost all The Cameras either stopped taking photos or would only send pictures about Batman. All of them had horrible content. Just bloody alleyways, or people running away in fear. They were sent in with the hope of Photo evidence doing something about it.

That is what he does, right? Take corrupt people and either blackmail them or report them to the police…

There was no way that he could get the police to arrest Batman, that would do more harm than good. And the only meaningful thing he has against Batman is his identity. Either way, he can’t go after The Batman! Photo evidence doesn’t fight the good guys!

But... Batman isn’t really a good guy now, is he? It’s like Robin took all the good with him when he died. 

And even if he did blackmail Batman, B might just let it happen! He’s already shown that he doesn’t care what happens to himself now that Jason’s gone.

Which is really surprising, considering he has a perfectly good, alive son and friends!! Like, shouldn’t Superman or Nightwing be showing up to try and stop this?

Oh wait that’s right, Nightwing is mad at B for not telling him that Jason died and that he missed the funeral…

Like okay… Tim understands that not being alerted to your brother’s death while you’re in space can make you mad enough that you don’t want to talk with the person who was supposed to tell you that info to the point where you don’t want to be in the same city as them.

And in Superman’s case he stopped B from killing Joker, which probably started this whole “I’m gonna go punch out my anger cuz I can’t kill the guy who murdered my son,” thing.

Superman also probably thinks that he’ll get killed in Gotham for preventing Joker’s death in the first place, whether by Batman or a Metropolis-hating Gothamite who somehow sensed that Superman stopped Joker from dying, and that probably makes him not want to be in Gotham. 

However, that doesn’t mean they shouldn’t be helping!!

Seriously, Tim doesn’t understand why out of every. single. person. who actually KNOWS Batman, HE has to be the only one to actually do something.

Aren’t heroes supposed to help? Why does he, a child, have to be the only one who cares? The only one to step up? The only one willing to try and help?

Doesn’t anyone realize if Batman dies on patrol, Gotham is going to go up in flames!?

Oh come on! This was supposed to be his debut! To show the world that he could protect Gotham! But not in a vigilante way… He was supposed to go after the people outside of Gotham. The bats do the actual fighting, not him!

Ok ok, that’s it. He has to plan! Maybe contact a few people before he (or Batman) does something rash… after all he’s The Photo evidence! Timothy Jackson Drake! He doesn’t put himself in danger, that isn’t how a Drake works! So If he’s gonna have to save Batman on his own he’s gonna make sure that it’s the last option before he does.

But like what could he even do?? He can’t just bring back Batman’s hope and light, he can’t just bring Robin back! (Photo evidence blackmails people not resurrect them!), The only way to do that is to have someone become Robin, But the only options for that role are Jason, Dick, or well..… Tim.

And since Jason is dead and Tim really doesn’t want to be stuck in a life that’s gonna kill him (cuz it would kill him eventually), he’s just gonna have to find a way to get Dick back into the Robin role…

Maybe visit him in Blüdhaven? Maybe he could tell him what’s going on with Batman in Gotham? How is he even gonna get there? He honestly has no idea. But if this is the only way to help Bruce, he’ll do it.

He just really hopes that Dick will agree so he doesn’t have to save Batman alone…

[peachdues]

Seasons in Love (modern college AU: Part 1/2)

Sanemi meets Y/N in January and isn't a fan. As the seasons pass by, their evolving relationship becomes defined by a handful snapshots from the various holidays throughout the year.

A/N: part 1/2 of my college-AU fic to fulfill @shiverisms request for tooth-rotting Sanemi fluff. Part 1 covers January, the Spring and Summer festivals, Halloween and the week leading into finals in December. Part 2 will cover Christmas Eve and New Year's Eve. This is unlike anything I’ve really written before, so sorry if it drags!!

CW: swearing, some suggestive stuff but nothing too bad. College-typical drinking and debauchery.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

January 2nd – first day of the spring semester

Sanemi Shinazugawa hated many things. He hated the cold, because wearing too many layers made him feel like he was suffocating. He hated when the store was out of his favorite brand of dried seaweed. He hated whenever he saw that asshole, Douma, simpering his way across campus with a gaggle of unwitting freshmen trailing helplessly behind him.

But most of all, he hated change.

So, when Shinobu brought along a new face to their first family dinner of the new year, he’s not happy.

And initially, he felt vindicated by his reticence to welcome her as warmly into their friend group as some of the others, because, despite his friends’ kindness, she’d failed to even muster a grateful smile for her hosts.

Not once, during the entire affair, did the girl – Y/N -- so much as twitch her lips upwards; not when she met any of his friends, and certainly not at any of the jokes or fun they’d had.

It’s not that she’d been sullen and withdrawn — she’d participated in conversation just fine. But that bland stoicism on her face had really gotten under his skin, because it reminds him of Giyuu, and they’ve already got one of those.

Sanemi told Shinobu as much later that night as he kicked back in her worn, mismatched kitchen chair while the pharmacology student idly flipped through her biochemistry textbook.

“I’ll ignore the dig at Giyuu for now,” Shinobu said lightly, though her eyes flickered briefly up to his in warning, “but I would think you of all people would have a bit of compassion toward her, Sanemi.”

Sanemi reached out to snatch an apple from the little fruit bowl that Shinobu has on her kitchen table, taking a crude chomp out of it. “Why?” He asked, voice garbled by his thick mouthful.

Shinobu shot him a fleeting look of disgust at his lack of etiquette. “Do you remember that girl I was paired with in my mental health law seminar last semester? The one who dropped out of our final project last minute?”

Sanemi swallowed his mouthful of apple. “Yeah. You were pissed.”

And she had been. Shinobu had been stuck with doing the other half of an entire presentation just two days before it was due, and it had been on statutory interpretation which had not been Shinobu’s strongest area.

Shinobu’s scowled. “That’s because I didn’t know the reason,” she reached for a highlighter to mark text on the page open before her.

“Her little brother died. Cancer. He was only eleven.”

In one breath, all his prior irritation with the girl’s presence is extinguished within him.

Now, Sanemi felt like an asshole.

Because if anyone understood what it felt like to lose a loved one — especially one as young as eleven — it would’ve been him.

“Fuck,” Sanemi exhaled, apple falling to the table, forgotten. Absentmindedly, he reached his hand to rub at his chest, just over the jagged scar beneath his shirt that was one of the many souvenirs from the car wreck that had managed to kill everyone in his family but him.

That had been nine years ago — when Sanemi had barely been twelve.

He certainly hadn’t felt like smiling much after that, either. Truthfully, he’d probably be in far worse shape now had it not been for the people clustered in Shinobu’s and Mitsuri’s tiny apartment.

“She also got cheated on last semester,” Shinobu added after a moment.

Sanemi sighed heavily, feeling even worse. The poor girl had gone through what was arguably the worst semester, and he’d chapped her ass over not smiling.

“I didn’t know that — by who?” Tengen emerged from the adjacent living room, breezing by the table and into the kitchen to help himself to whatever was in the girls’ fridge.

Shinobu’s eyes hardened. “Douma,” her tone was poisonous.

Both Sanemi and Tengen groaned in unison.

“She deserves financial compensation for that one,” Sanemi muttered darkly, motioning for Tengen to toss him a beer. The sleazy, lazy, and arrogant student body President had earned the reputation of being a serial cheater around campus. Shinobu briefly had a fling with him their first year that she’d ended after only a few weeks, once it became all too clear that he was a master manipulator.

And, as Shinobu had referred to him, an utter man-whore.

Tengen padded out from the kitchen, beers in hand. “That explains why she doesn’t really have a friend group anymore, then.” He quipped, handing the extra beer to Sanemi before plopping down next to him at the table.

Shinobu hummed in agreement, hand seamlessly moving across the glossy page of her textbook as she made a small, precise note. “You know how Douma is — first he fucks you, and then he fucks you.”

Sanemi snorted, shaking his head. “So that’s why you feel so protective of her, huh?” He nudged her with his elbow. “You know what she’s going through.”

Shinobu shrugged him off. “Maybe; but so do you.” She said pointedly, hand flipping her textbook shut. “So maybe just try to be nice?”

“When the fuck am I not nice?” Sanemi demanded indignantly, and Shinobu shot him such a pitiful look that he felt his cheeks heat.

Tengen just laughed. “I think the real question is when are you ever?”

Sanemi glared at his loud-mouthed friend, but before he could respond with a snappy retort, Shinobu spoke.

“I’m not saying you have to be a saint, but I want Y/N to feel like she at least has some support here,” her tone was light but it carried that signature soft threat she used whenever she meant business. “so promise me you’ll at least try to get to know her.”

Sanemi groaned but acquiesced. “All right, all right,” he’d muttered, reaching back for his earlier-discarded apple. “I promise.”

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

March 23rd – Spring Festival

As winter melted way into spring and the cherry blossom buds had begun to bloom, so did Sanemi’s friendship with Y/N.

He promised Shinobu that he would try to make the girl feel part of their group, and Sanemi is a man true to his word – but in retrospect, he hadn’t expected it to be this easy to become friends with her.

It started when they realized they shared three out of their four classes together. Sanemi walked into his first seminar at the crack-ass of eight in the morning on the first day of spring classes when he’d spotted her sitting in the second row from the front. Sanemi didn’t like most of the other people in his class, so sitting beside her had seemed like a no-brainer.

It had been the best decision he could have made. Y/N was smart as a whip, and often went toe-to-toe with the self-professed “devil’s advocates” during class discussions, managing to weave in Shakespearean insults while simultaneously ripping apart their inane arguments.

Soon, they began to meet up for study sessions at Mitsuri and Shinobu’s apartment, as Y/N had also become incredibly close with the two girls. Sanemi began to find himself at the girls’ apartment far more than he was at his own. In March, he discovered they had precisely the same tastes in music; within a day she had sent him several specially-curated playlists that featured bands similar to his favorite artists.

By the end of March, Y/N had announced her plan to move in with Mitsuri and Shinobu.

It wouldn’t happen until the end of the semester, when Y/N’s solitary lease ended, but she’d planned to move in right before she spent a month at home with her family – which also marked the first time she’d return home since her brother had died.

Sanemi wasn’t surprised at how quickly Y/N had bonded with his other female friends; she had a sharp, dry wit that matched perfectly with Shinobu’s lofty, passive-aggressive attitude, yet also seemed to find delight in spending time with Mitsuri, with whom she’d rapidly become attached to at the hip. Part of Sanemi had hoped that her friendship with the two women would lighten the shadows that crossed her face every so often, and that maybe she would finally crack a smile.

It wasn’t as if Y/N wasn’t expressive – she was, particularly around her eyes. More often than not, she was scowling at him or rolling her eyes at his barbs, but there had been a few occasions when he’d thought that he’d caught something softer as she looked at him. Other times, he saw an amused twinkle in her eye whenever Mitsuri challenged Tengen to an arm-wrestling contest, as though she were on the precipice of laughter, though none ever came.

Shinobu had suggested Y/N’s failure to smile was just a way of her processing her trauma and grief, and that she was doing everything she could to cope. Sanemi had not yet broached the subject with Y/N, not wanting her to feel compelled to open up wounds she was trying so hard to stitch together, but he worried that she wasn’t getting the support she needed.

Near the end of the semester, Y/N had become slightly more irritable, constantly jiggling a foot whenever she sat down, or wringing her hands in her lap whenever she was in deep thought.

Sanemi had agreed to study with her for their last final, but was on his last nerve as she continuously clicked her pen, each press of her thumb against the cap harder than the last.

“You have to stop.” He finally snapped, throwing his own pen down on his notebook before him to glare at her. “I can’t hear myself think.”

Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise at his outburst before lowering, her arms folding insecurely in front of her chest.

“Sorry,” she murmured, her foot beginning to twitch beneath the table.

Sanemi sighed and slammed his book shut, folding his hands under his chin as he braced his elbows on the table. “All right, out with it; what’s got ya all bent out of shape?”

Y/N didn’t meet his eyes, instead toying idly with the ends of her hair. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Sanemi rolled his eyes and huffed. “You’ve been squirming nonstop for the last two weeks, and it’s only gotten worse,” he nodded pointedly at the way she kept twisting and untwisting a lock of her dark, silky hair around her index finger. “Somethin’s bothering you.”

Y/N remained quiet for a moment, but contemplative, weighing out the risks and the rewards of opening up to the scowling man sitting across from her.

“I haven’t been home since – since he died,” She began, shifting slightly in her seat. “And I’ve felt really closed off from my parents ever since the funeral. We haven’t talked much at all.” She bit her lip, staring intently at the wooden grain of the table. “I guess I’m just anxious about going back.”

Sanemi clicked his tongue. “I gotta say, I don’t envy you right now,”

“Thanks.” Y/N interjected coolly, but Sanemi held a hand up to quiet her.

“I mean, that car wreck just killed my whole family, so I didn’t have to deal with anyone else’s grief but my own,” Sanemi continued, and Y/N fell silent. “I can’t imagine having to deal with someone else’s.”

Y/N’s hand had fallen from her hair to the table, and it twitched toward him. She hestitated for a moment before finally reaching over and placing her small hand on Sanemi’s broad, scarred forearm.

“Sanemi, I had no idea,” she said, softly. “I’m so sorry.”

Sanemi surprised himself by not immediately shrugging off her touch, but he found it hard to meet her eyes. Most people looked at him with pity, and he’d long since lost the ability to stomach it.

Y/N slowly pulled her hand back from his arm, moving to wipe furiously at her eyes.

“Ah hell, I didn’t mean to make ya cry-“ Sanemi said, cursing himself for trudging up what had to be painful memories.

She shook her head furiously. “No, it’s not that,” she batted the tears from her eyes before meeting his gaze head-on. “I’ve just felt so…alone these last few months. Like I was drowning in my grief.”

Sanemi felt something within him stir at the intensity of her stare, something warm and comforting spreading through his chest. “But you’re not,” he said with equal quiet, offering her a small smile. “It’s the worst club to be a part of – the dead family club – but it’s nice knowin’ someone else in it.”

Y/N nodded, and Sanemi could swear he saw something like a ghost of a smile on her face, but it was gone as soon as it came.

“If things at home get too hard to deal with this summer,” Sanemi said after a pause, “just call me. Any time.”

And damn him if he didn’t feel like he could soar at the look of hope in her eyes.

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

July 15th – Mid-Summer Festival

Summer had passed by slowly and lazy in the blazing heat.

Sanemi had spent the majority of their break at the Rengoku family lakehouse, working alongside his best friend as a lifeguard at the local swim club. When he wasn’t shouting at kids for being walking lawsuits as they ran alongside the pool and drinking cheap beer with Kyojuro, he had been texting Y/N – outside of their active group chat.

It was insane to him that she’d become as close with him as he was to Kyojuro. Sanemi had found her so easy to talk to, even over the phone, and eagerly checked for her messages the moment he awoke and the moment before he fell asleep. Once or twice, Kyojuro had even grumbled that Sanemi rarely texted the group chat back but seemed to have no trouble responding to one of Y/N’s many memes or song recommendations.

But now, the whole gang had reunited for a holiday weekend at the Rengoku lakehouse to celebrate the mid-summer festival with a cookout and fireworks.

Translation: they’d all come to get absolutely plastered while enjoying some fun in the picturesque water surrounding the generous estate.

It was day two of the festival weekend, and six of them were in the water, locked in a fierce battle of chicken. Y/N was perched on Sanemi’s shoulders as she wrestled Mitsuri, who was close to strangling a sputtering Kyojuro with her thighs as she desperately tried to remain upright. So far, he and Y/N had knocked out the other pair — Shinobu and Giyuu -- and were vying for the title of Chicken Champions.

Sanemi wouldn’t lie that he’d initially felt a bit smug over how Y/N had darted forward to grab his arm when Mitsuri announced the need to partner up. He’d thought it was because of his strength — he knew he was jacked, and he assumed that she had (correctly) concluded that she stood the best chance of winning if she climbed atop his shoulders.

“I won’t let you fall, princess.” He’d crooned, winking at her. She’d rolled her eyes at the use of his nickname for her, and he’d puffed his chest out, feeling a cocky sense of pride.

As it turned out, he’d been dead fucking wrong. Y/N hadn’t chosen him because he’d looked the strongest.

No. She’d chosen him because he was the only one she could get away with outright abusing in her ruthless play for the championship.

“Left, left, left!” She screeched, fingers snaring in his hair to wrench him harshly to the side, her heels digging sharply into his abdomen beneath the water as she desperately tried to steer him away from Mitsuri’s incoming flailing limbs.

Somehow, despite the searing pain in his scalp and the spray of lake water in his eyes, Sanemi had managed to follow her directions and the pair managed to narrowly avoid catastrophe. But Y/N wasn’t finished, as she tightened her shapely thighs around Sanemi’s neck to twist him back so she could lunge for the pinkette now unsteady atop of Kyojuro.

Sanemi had never been more grateful that the water covered him from the waist-down, as Y/N’s thighs clenched around his head once more as she shoved at her best friend with all her might.

Mitsuri had been too unbalanced to resist Y/N’s attack, and she finally toppled off Kyojuro’s shoulders and splashed into the water.

“Chicken Champs!” Tengen declared from the shoreline where he had been refereeing, more interested in working in a tan than he had been in getting in the water.

“I knew we’d win.” Y/N sniffed, tapping Sanemi’s head lightly. “I didn’t scalp you, did I?”

But Sanemi couldn’t answer because he was fighting a losing battle to conceal the growing bulge in his trunks, fearful that if any of his friends saw, they’d never let him live it down.

He’d known he was in trouble when she’d first emerged from the girls’ room in that tiny red bikini. For the last three hours, he’d been constantly reminding himself that she was his best friend and was therefore off-limits every time he’d caught his eyes lingering a second too long on her exposed skin and that he valued their friendship above all else.

But those rationalities were getting harder to remember the longer he felt her legs dangling over his chest, and his self-control was rapidly slipping.

So, upon Tengen declaring their victory, Sanemi did the only thing he could think of to escape his predicament— he slid his hands under her knees and dumped her into the water behind him, Y/N squeaking as she fell.

By the time Y/N’s head breached the surface of the lake, her eyes blazing and ready to fight, Sanemi had already been halfway back to the lake house, with nothing but a cold shower on his mind.

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

Later that night, once everyone was thoroughly shit-faced and Kyojuro and Tengen were itching to light the fireworks, Y/N was nowhere to be found. Sanemi broke away from the group, heading towards the boat dock just down a grassy hill when he’d spotted her sitting on the edge of the pier. She was leaning against one of the posts, legs dangling into the water below as she gazed up at the brilliant expanse of stars twinkling in the night sky.

“It’s about time to watch a bunch of drunk assholes blow shit up.” He said, crouching down to sit beside her.

Y/N merely turned her head toward him before looking away again, remaining quiet. Her eyes were clouded and wistful as she peered up at the sky, her lower lip wobbling slightly.

In moments like these, Sanemi had learned the best thing he could do was stay silent. If she wanted to talk, she would, but sometimes, she just wanted him near.

The two were quiet for a moment, the only sounds being the slow lap of the lake water as it broke against the wooden pier, and the distant echoes of laughter as Kyo and Tengen drunkenly tried to set up the firework display.

“It’s been eight months since he died,” Y/N broke the silence, her voice soft. “And I hadn’t even realized. I was so swept up in having fun that I forgot about him for a moment.” She looked down at her lap, fingers twisting nervously together. “I must be awful.”

Sanemi shook his head, his hand itching to reach out and pat her back, to offer her comfort, but it remained still on the wood beneath him. “Nah. Not awful.” He lifts his gaze up to the stars twinkling above them, the mid-summer night sky resplendent with light. “It’s shitty to say, but sometimes you’ve gotta remember that you’re still livin’— even if they’re not.”

Y/N snorted, bringing a hand up to wipe at the tears that had begun to cling to her eyelashes. “That’s a harsh way of putting it.”

Sanemi grimaced, resenting how poor he could be with words. “I meant that he wouldn’t want you to keep yourself from living just because of him.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “What brought it on, anyways? I mean, what reminded you?”

Y/N leaned her head back against the worn post of the pier, chewing on her lower lip in thought. “I guess when Kyo mentioned it was almost time for fireworks. My brother loved the summer festivals, but he really loved the fireworks.” Y/N’s eyes slid shut momentarily as she reminisced, echoes of vibrant colors and the sounds of her brother’s laughter echoing in the corners of her mind. “He’d beg my parents to stay up past his bedtime to watch them. They used to tell him ‘No,’ but he kept sneaking out to watch them anyways. They eventually just gave in.”

Y/N paused, as she wove the connection between the memory in her head with the heaving feeling in her heart. “I guess that’s why I came down here.” She shrugged, as though to deflect the pain and loneliness that curled her shoulders forward, that still lurked in the shadows beneath her eyes. “Didn’t wanna drag the group down, you know?”

Sanemi looked back to Y/N, so beautiful beneath the starlight, so kind, and so very sad.

“I don’t think anyone would think you’re bein’ a drag,” Sanemi murmured. “But tell ya what — if you’re ever feeling down again while we’re all together, how about you give me a signal and we can dip out together ‘til you feel better?”

Y/N sniffed eyeing him incredulously. “A signal?”

Sanemi nodded. “Yeah, like — I dunno — a code word or something?”

Y/N pursed her lips as she looked back over the still water of the inky lake, considering.

“How about ‘chicken?’ In honor of our win today?” She said after a moment.

Sanemi grinned. “Perfect.”

The telling whizz and whirr of fireworks being launched into the sky cut Y/N off before she could reply. With a resounding boom! the night sky filled with bright streaks of red, white, pink, and yellow. Between the pulsing claps of the thunder of the fireworks, Y/N and Sanemi could hear the distant whoops and hollers of their friends.

Y/N’s eyes were locked on the dazzling display of fire and spark above them, a mixture of sadness and wonder glistening within them.

Later that night, just as Sanemi had been on the precipice of sleep, he’d realized he had not seen a single firework that his friends had launched in celebration of the summer festival.

Because while Y/N’s eyes had been fixed on the beautiful show of color in the night sky, Sanemi had not been able to look at anything else but her.

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

October 31st -- Halloween

“Stop moving your face,” Y/N said exasperatedly to the scowling, white-haired man sitting before her. “You’re going to mess me up.”

Sanemi wanted to crack an eye to glare at her, but he feared she might stick one of her makeup brushes in his eye socket if he did. Instead, Sanemi clenched his jaw, fists balling in his lap.

“You’re taking for-fuckin’-ever,” he muttered, wincing slightly as Y/N dabbed a cold, gel-like substance against his cheek.

“I’m not the one who picked the most high-maintenance costume out of our entire group,” Y/N scoffs, pulling away from Sanemi to blend together a mixture of red, brown, and gray face paint to apply on the fake wound she has created along Sanemi’s sharp cheekbone.  “I mean seriously, a wolf demon? Why not just go as a regular werewolf?”

It is Halloween and Sanemi regrets ever agreeing to a group costume theme.

It had all started when Shinobu, Mitsuri, and Y/N had come to their weekly family dinner a month prior with wicked gleams in their eyes. They had waited until everyone else had been seated before Shinobu announced that not only had she gotten all their names down on an invite list for an exclusive Halloween party at the Wisteria House the following month, but they would all be dressing up as part of a group theme.

Tengen, Kyojuro, and Gyomei had each expressed excitement while Giyuu, Obanai, and Sanemi had remained silent, though the latter only did so because he was too busy gaping at the girls, his mouth full of food.

“Tell me you three’ve already figured out the theme,” Tengen had said, his magenta eyes alight with excitement. “I want to be the flashiest group in that fucker.”

Mitsuri’s smile had only grown wider. “Mythical monsters - specifically demons!”

Sanemi’s groan had been cut off by a sharp kick under the table from Y/N, who was glowering at him threateningly. One look from her, and he’d known arguing would be pointless.

And that was how Sanemi had found himself now, on Halloween night, sitting stiffly on the worn-out ottoman in the girls’ apartment while Y/N smeared liquid latex across his cheeks to create the fake appearance of claw marks.

Mitsuri was on the other side of Y/N, painting fake slits on either side of Obanai’s mouth to give him a more snake-like appearance to suit his Snake Demon attire. The moment Sanemi had seen Y/N’s hands free up after she had put the finishing touches on Shinobu’s Butterfly Demon makeup, he’d nearly toppled over the coffee table to claim her before Kyojuro could sit down and occupy her time.

Truthfully, Sanemi had just wanted the chance to be near her. She was already decked out in her full Spider demon costume; her face painted a ghostly shade of white and accented by red circles meant to mimic the appearance of spider eyes. Sanemi, however, had miscalculated one crucial detail in his haste to be the only one of the men that she touched to do their makeup — how skimpy her costume would be.

Y/N was clad in a thin, white wrap dress that cut short just above her mid-thigh. The dress, though sleeved, also boasted a deep v-neck, and Sanemi was avidly trying to avoid staring at her exposed cleavage, which had also been painted and dusted with a shimmering powder. Her legs were bare, covered in the same glitter as the rest of her skin, and she was already teetering around in heels that Sanemi knew damn well would not stay on her feet longer than an hour.

In fairness, Y/N’s costume wasn’t nearly as skimpy as her pink-haired friend’s. Mitsuri insisted she was going as a cat demon, but Sanemi failed to see the correlation between the black unitard with the plunging neckline and anything remotely feline.

Y/N’s fingers brushed against his cheeks as she dabbed a mixture of paint to create the appearance of blood and Sanemi wills them not to heat under her touch. The task is nearly impossible, however, because he felt like he was being electrocuted every time she brushes against him. That feeling was only accentuated every time she moved to lean over him and pick up yet another beauty tool, the sweet honey of her perfume more intoxicating than the shots Tengen had made them pound earlier.

Sanemi was so lost in thought as he reveled beneath Y/N’s heavenly touch that he failed to notice her step back, eyes scrutinizing his face as she considered her handiwork. Sanemi cracked an eye open and watched her nod in satisfaction, finally dropping her makeup brushes on the side table.

“You’re done.” She said, tapping his shoulder to motion him to stand. Y/N thrusted a tiny makeup mirror in his hand so he could inspect.

She’d turned his existing facial scars into fake, bloodied, fresh ones, but elongated them to give the appearance of claw marks. She added an additional vertical scar that extended from above his right eyebrow to nearly his cheek. All in all, Sanemi thought he looked -

“Scary!” Mitsuri exclaimed, eyes widening softly. “He’s sure on theme — he’ll terrify people!”

Y/N clicked her tongue in disagreement. “No, I don’t think he looks scary,” she tilted her head in thought, Sanemi feeling slightly embarrassed as the two girls continued to look him over.

“I think he looks…,” Y/N paused, her eyebrow quirking up suggestively as her eyes lit up, dancing with a challenge. “Feral.”

Sanemi grinned at her, purposefully bearing his teeth in an effort to look as wolf-like as possible.

Tengen came back into the living room from where he and Kyo were doing shots and winked at his silver-haired friend. “You’ll still be able to pick up girls looking like that, Shinazugawa.”

Sanemi doesn’t know why, but the comment irritated him, and he turned away from the group to hide his reddening face.

He doesn’t see the way Y/N’s eyebrows furrow at the comment.

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

It was two in the morning, and they are all utterly inebriated.

The Wisteria House — an exclusive club that Shinobu had only been able to get them into because of her connections to one of its proprietors — had been pulsing with music and lights as throngs of costumed revelers had ground to the thunderous beat of the music.

The group of them had thrived beneath the black light of the club dance floor, getting drunk on endless rounds of shots and mixed drinks that kept flowing from the bar like a waterfall of spirits.

But now, it was after two in the fucking morning, and somehow Sanemi had been stuck with corralling not one, but two drunk assholes back into their apartment despite being intoxicated himself.

The two assholes in question were also arguably the biggest lightweights out of all their friends — Mitsuri and Y/N.

Six of them had agreed to call an Uber to take them all back home to their apartments, but Kyojuro had gotten the whole group kicked out after he’d thrown up all over the driver’s pristine leather seats.

The blonde had been nearly unconscious when Tengen and Giyuu dragged him out the side of the car, and neither of them could stand to haul their blacked-out friend back to the boys’ apartment by themselves. But someone had to stay back to walk the two drunk girls back to their apartment because none of them were stupid enough to risk letting the girls walk by themselves - which was how Sanemi found himself in the position of the official babysitter of the two, shit-faced girls who stumbled along the pavement next to him.

“Kanroji — no, god dammit, st-op tryin’ to run,” Sanemi growled, his words a little slurred as he lunged to grab onto the pinkette’s arm as she tried yet again to take off into the night, giggling about how she wanted to run and feel free.

Mitsuri began wailing because Sanemi is a big meanie, but she shuffled along beside him in resigned obedience. Sanemi bit down on the litany of curses threatening to spill from his lips as he whipped around to lay eyes on the other girl he’d been charged with escorting safely home.

Y/N was limping along, about ten feet behind her friends, her legs quivering from exhaustion thanks to those fucking heels she’d insisted on wearing. How she’d managed to remain upright and not snap both her ankles was a mystery to Sanemi, but right then, he was annoyed and wanted nothing more than to slump home and pass out in his own bed.

“Y/N!” He barked behind him, the girl’s face blearily looking up in alarm. “March!”

“‘Nemiiii,” she whined, stumbling slightly as her balance shook. “I can’t — hiccup — go any faster.”

Sanemi ground his teeth. “Try harder.”

Y/N managed to flip him off before stumbling again. “Mitsuri’s right, you are a meanie.”

Sanemi had had it; it was nearly three in the goddamn morning, and somehow the man with the least amount of patience had been stuck with the two drunkest shitheads in his circle of friends, and those shitheads were keeping him from embracing the sweet oblivion of drunken sleep.

So, he snapped.

Hand still wrapped firmly around Mitsuri’s forearm, he stomped back to Y/N, tugging his other friend helplessly along behind him. Standing before her, Sanemi crouched and turned to glare up at his swaying best friend.

“Climb on. I ain’t arguing.” He ordered, and to her credit, Y/N complied, looping her arms across Sanemi’s sternum and locking her legs around his waist. He thinks she would have put up more of a fight had her feet not been about to fall off.

“No fair! I wanna be carried!” Mitsuri whined, tugging at his arm.

Sanemi just trudged along, relief flooding him as the girls’ tiny apartment comes into view. “You know how to walk in heels, Kanroji. She doesn’t.” He jerked his head back to the half-unconscious girl clinging to his back.

By some miracle, Sanemi and the girls finally arrived at the apartment, and Mitsuri was at least coordinated enough to fumble for her key to unlock the front door.

Once inside, Sanemi kicked the door shut behind him, and Mitsuri broke free from his hold, half-sprinting into the kitchen to chug some water.  Sanemi readjusted his grip on Y/N’s legs and moved towards her closed bedroom door, ready to dump her on her bed and go the fuck home.

“We made it!” Y/N’s sleepy voice murmured in his ear. Sanemi grunted in response, moving to deposit her on the soft down of her mattress when he felt her lurch forward on his back.

He was about to snap at her for being difficult when he felt the sloppy press of a soft pair of lips against his ear.

“Thanks, ‘Nemi.” Y/N said sleepily, falling off his back in an unceremonious heap on her bed. She sunk into the ridiculous array of pillows and blankets she insisted on piling onto her mattress.

Sanemi realized she’d been aiming for his cheek, but had missed in her drunken stupor. Nonetheless, his ear burned where her mouth had been, and he felt slightly hot under the collar of his flannel shirt.

“Drink some water so you’re not violently hungover tomorrow, idiot.” Was all he said as he moved to leave her room and finally, finally, return to his apartment.

“‘M-Kay. Love you.” Y/N slurred, and Sanemi froze. “Love my ‘Nemi. You’re my bestest friend in the world.”

Sanemi’s heart thumped wildly in his ears, though the slight lead of disappointment sunk in his gut. She loved him like a brother, of course — not as anything — as anything more than that.

Sanemi moved to exit the apartment, checking to ensure Kanroji hadn’t fallen asleep on her back, and pausing only to place a trash can next to where she was passed out on the couch. He softly closed the door behind him and began to make his way back to the apartment he shared with Kyojuro and Tengen.

Sanemi’s feet stumbled slightly on his journey as his mind reeled. His ear still burned from Y/N’s kiss, and her words echoed and clanged around in his head until he could hear nothing else.

Somehow, Sanemi ends up in his bed, sleep rapidly creeping up on him as his eyelids grow heavy. In his haze, he thought about how, despite being in a club surrounded by her friends and drunk off her ass, she’d still failed to smile even once.

As he drifted off, he thought about how empty and cold he felt now that he is no longer bearing Y/N’s warm weight on his back. Though he’d only been carrying her, she had felt indescribably good in his arms, and Sanemi cannot think of much he wouldn’t do to be touched by her again.

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

December – one week before finals.

A snowstorm had blown through their city that afternoon.

Though, perhaps “snowstorm” was too light of a description; in a matter of hours, an outright blizzard had dumped nearly three feet of snow across town and had utterly and thoroughly fucked the roads. The university had no option but to cancel classes through at least the end of the week.

Sanemi had looked forward to a night in, preferably with some video games and maybe some of his boys. It had been a long, strenuous week; truthfully, he felt like killing some virtual monsters.

It seemed, however, that his friends had other ideas as to how to spend their newly-freed evening, and of course it involved doing the exact opposite of what Sanemi had hoped to do.

He’d been in the middle of frying an egg for dinner when his phone began vibrating. He’d ignored it at first, until it nearly buzzed itself off his counter, Sanemi having to jolt to catch it in his hand before it hit the cracked linoleum of his kitchen floor.

His phone was steadily buzzing with new messages in the group chat. Swearing slightly under his breath, Sanemi unlocked his phone and scrolled up to see the message that had prompted the flurry of reactions and enthusiastic agreements from his friends.

It had started with a message from Tengen.

Quad. 20 minutes. Snow ball fight.

Sanemi groaned and responded only to tell Tengen to fuck off. But then Y/N had replied that she and the girls were on their way, and she’d called him a baby bitch for sitting out, so he’d had no choice but to bundle up in his thickest flannel and sweater and head towards the quad.

By the time Sanemi trudged his way through the shin-deep wintry sludge, a full-on war was being waged on the campus green. Though it was nearly midnight, the snow illuminated the winter wonderland around them, and Sanemi could see all his friends and a few other straggling students engaged in a fierce battle.

He scanned the quad for a sign of Y/N and spied her about 20 feet away, swathed in a thick, wool coat and hat, crouched slightly behind a tree. Beside her was a small pile of densely packed snowballs, like a stockpiled winter arsenal.

“Ya know you’re supposed to throw the snowballs, right?” Sanemi chided, sidling up to where she stood, just off the snow-covered walk of the green. She had two snowballs clutched in her gloved hands, but her eyes were fixed on someone, her tongue darting out between her lips in concentration as she calculated her next move. “Like, actually throw ‘em at people.”

Y/N tore her eyes off whatever target she’d locked onto to give him a withering glare. “I’m trying, smart-ass, to figure out the best way to hit Gyomei in the face,” she turned away from him once more, resuming her careful assessment of the tallest target on the quad, who was busy pelting the back of Giyuu’s head with scary precision.

Sanemi’s grin turned wicked. “Kinda sadistic of you to target the blind guy, isn’t it?” He goaded, bending down to scoop up and a handful of snow for himself.

Y/N whipped around at him, eyes blazing. “He’s throwing snow chunks at people, you fuckhead, and all is fair in war-“

Y/N’s rant was cut off as a well-packed sphere of snow smashed into the side of her face. She dropped the snowballs she’d been holding, her hand jumping up to her cheek in shock, as the skin beneath it stung from the icy bite of the snow.

Sanemi let out a hearty laugh. Y/N stood there, mouth gaping and dark hair plastered to the wet of her cheek, an adorable mix of both shock and indignation on her face.

Behind him, Sanemi heard Mitsuri’s tinkling, mischievous laughter.

“Motherfucker,” Y/N breathed, staring after her roommate, her eyes lighting up with a promise of swift retribution.

“Oh come on,” Sanemi laughed again at her, open and deep. “You had it coming — that’s what you get for tryna hit the blind -“

An explosion of ice and water smacked into the side of his face, soaking his hair and the collar of his jacket.

Y/N whirled to see Obanai wink at her before he took off to join Mitsuri to guard her against the onslaught flying snowballs.

Y/N turned back to Sanemi and gasped.

Obanai had not just thrown a snowball packed from the generous coating of fresh, pristine powder that covered the green; rather, he’d made a small grenade, using snow and slush gathered from the side of the road.

Gray snow dripped from the side of Sanemi’s face, soiling his cheek, and staining the cream sweater he had on beneath his jacket. Sanemi was frozen in his surprise at being caught off guard until a small, unfamiliar sound snapped him out of it.

The source of the sound made his heart drop to his stomach.

It was Y/N, who was staring up at his soiled face, watching as the black snow slid down his cheek and dripped onto the ground below him.

And she was laughing. Laughing at him.

The sound that rattled from her chest was neither a snicker nor a snort; it was a raspy, raucous cackle. Her head was tipped back slightly, as she gawked up at him, her eyes crinkled with mirth as she vaguely gestured to the smear of gray on his cheek and dissolving into another fit of giggles.

Laughter subsiding slightly, Y/N stepped forward and swiped her hand through the sludge still gathered on Sanemi’s face in a poor attempt to wipe the gray stain away. She realized it was futile though and looked instead at her now-dirtied palm in slight distaste, wiping it against the black wool of her coat.

She peered back up at him and smiled, broad and radiant.

That exhilarating smile faded, however, as Sanemi stood there, motionless, his eyes wide and his mouth slightly parted, shocked into silence.

“Sanemi, what-“ Y/N started, a frown tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“Do it again,” Sanemi whispered, breathless. He’d not blinked or dared to do so in case he might miss it. “Smile again.”

Y/N’s eyebrows knit in confusion before softening. She’d not realized she’d even done it.

But Sanemi looked so awestruck, so desperate that she couldn’t deny him. So, she grinned broadly at him, cheeks almost burning after months of non-use, though she could not find it within herself to care.

Sanemi slowly returned the smile, pure joy illuminating his features. And they both began to laugh, without restraint, even as snowballs continued to whizz by them.

By the time the snowball fight had ended, Sanemi was soaked to the bone.

Admittedly, he hadn’t been paying attention to the slushy projectiles that had been lobbed with precision by the carefree college students who had gathered on the quad. His attention had been exclusively on Y/N as she pranced and ducked through the snow, smiling and laughing with abandon.

She’d been exquisite to watch.

One by one, his other friends had caught notice, had pricked their ears at the sound of an unfamiliar laugh that rang through the campus green, and turned to identify the source. As they watched Y/N run and duck and throw with that broad grin on her face, they too, had fallen still, their eyes going soft as they realized the enormity of the moment.

Because when Y/N smiled, she was a completely different person.

She looked bright, carefree, and more radiant than the sun. The resplendence of her smile made the snow look ugly and dull in comparison.

Mitsuri had watched her best friend with tears in her eyes, and Shinobu had looked close to joining her.

All the while, Sanemi had been unable to tear his eyes from her, and the warmth that he felt spread through his numb fingers and cheeks made him swear that he would do anything, anything at all, to make Y/N smile again.

—————————————————————————

Sanemi felt as though he was levitating even after he dropped Y/N off back at her apartment. He may as well have been floating on a cloud as he made his way down the hallway of the dimly lit hallway of the girls’ apartment complex, because he’d finally seen Y/N smile, had seen her laugh, and it was goddamned glorious.

Mitsuri emerged from the hall stairwell, cheeks pink and eyes bright from the evening of fun in the cold. She giggled as she saw the gray stain still on Sanemi’s face from the sludge ball he took.

“I would say ‘sorry,’ but honestly, it was pretty funny,” Mitsuri teased, nodding at his disheveled appearance. Sanemi snorted, but he couldn’t feign annoyance or irritation because he felt so damn good.

“Tell your boyfriend to watch out tonight, or else he might find his bed outside.”

Mitsuri giggled again, but then fell quiet, something more serious crossing her face.

“When are you going to tell her you’re in love with her?” She asked, her voice low.

Just like that, Sanemi felt as though a bucket of ice water had been thrown over him, as though he was crashing right back down to earth under the weight of the accusation she wanted him to answer for.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said gruffly, averting his gaze so he did not have to meet Mitsuri’s knowing stare.

Sanemi knew Mitsuri could see right through his bullshit — could tell by the way she huffed at him and could see it out of his periphery in how her head was cocked at him. He looked back at her and nearly recoiled at the vast pity swimming in her jade eyes.

“Fuck, Mitsuri,” he groaned, leaning against the hall wall and letting his head fall back against it with a thud. He ran a hand over his exhausted face, and slightly resented the fact his friend had always been so discerning in the affairs of the heart.

“I can’t put that kind of pressure on her,” Sanemi admitted quietly after a long moment, arm falling back down to his side, limp.

Mitsuri had been right, of course, he was in love with Y/N. He’d suspected it for a while, but seeing her radiant smile that night only confirmed that the persistent twisting he had felt in his heart over the last few months had been more than mere longing. 

But Sanemi also knew he’d long been toeing a line that he can’t cross.

“If things between us went south, what then?” Sanemi continued, “We’ve been friends since we were kids. She’ll feel like she’s the one who has to leave, and I-“ Sanemi hesitated, shaking his head. A lump formed in his throat, threatening to suffocate the emotions that have been fighting to break free from his heart. 

“It would be fuckin’ selfish of me to take that from her after she’s tried so hard to build herself a support network. I can’t do that to her, ‘Suri.”

The pink-haired woman sighed and joined him as he leaned against the wall, the two staring off into the empty space before them.

“She is a part of our group, that’s true,” Mitsuri agreed, though contemplative. “But you, Sanemi, have been the biggest source of comfort for her.”

Sanemi scoffed. “Well, that’s what best friends are s’pposed to do.”

Mitsuri shook her head, a ghost of a smile tugging at her lips. “No, I’m her best friend,” she nudged him playfully with her elbow. “You though… you’re different. And I think she knows that, too.”

She kicked off the wall, and made her way towards her apartment door, pausing just as she reaches for the knob.

“After all, you’re the one she smiled for.”

Mitsuri and all her pink disappeared into her apartment, the door clicking softly shut behind her.

Sanemi remained against the wall for a while longer, his head and his heart a tangled web of hope and doubt.

The walk back to his place is solitary, and so Sanemi tried to sort through the snarled brambles of his mind. As he shuffled through the winter landscape, Sanemi thought that he’d never fully appreciated the snow before. He hadn’t noticed how beautiful snow-capped conifers looked, branches heavy with the sparkling ice; hadn’t realized how beautifully quiet the world could be when blanketed beneath a thick coat of white.

He thought about how Y/N looked standing amidst the chaos of the snowball fight, cheeks flushed with the cold and her own adrenaline, a smile as wide and bright plastered on her face. He basked in the warm echoes of her laughter as she lobbed yet another snowball at the back of Mitsuri’s head, squealing in delight when her friend returned her attack tenfold.

And Sanemi thinks that the snow wasn’t so bad after all.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Stick around for part 2 if you want to find out if Sanemi will finally confess (and how he’ll likely screw it up 😉)

[pupkashi]

azul

when it comes to love, you picture it as the color blue

a/n: hi friends !! i wrote this inspired by this song :] i had so much fun writing this and i hope you guys enjoy it <3 please let me know what u guys think !! this is my longest fic on here so I’m nervous LOL

wordcount: 6,414

masterlist

maybe if you weren’t already 10 minutes late to lecture you would’ve seen the tall man straight ahead of you, prominent snowy hair blowing in the wind as he sips on his large sugary coffee.

but you were 10 minutes late, and you were texting your friend asking them to fill you in on what you were missing. in the second that you looked up from your phone the only thing you saw was a dark purple uniform.

there wasn’t enough time for you to stop or move away, bumping full force into a firm body, spilling the drink in his hand all over him. your phone slipped out of your hand as you stumbled backwards.

“oh my god I’m so sorry!” you shriek, scrambling to check your bag for napkins, pulling some out and frantically handing them to the man. “I’m so sorry i should’ve watched where i was going” you apologize, face flushed as you picked up your phone from the ground.

“it’s okay! i wasn’t paying much attention either” he laughs, “is your phone alright?” his voice is sweet, and you almost regret looking up at him and meeting his gaze.

you’re greeted by the two most beautiful blue eyes you’d ever seen in your life, the round sunglasses that rested on the tip of his nose barely covering them. the gust of wind that passes by the two of you pushes back his white hair, making you struggle to not gulp.

he’s so attractive.

“uhm- oh yeah” you chuckle, tearing your eyes away from him and swallowing hard, “yeah it’s fine, are you okay?” you ask, finding the courage to look up at the much taller man.

“I’m more than okay” he smiles, dabbing the napkins against his now coffee soaked uniform. “i know my students are gonna get a kick out of this though” the words make you feel even worse, and it seems like this stranger picked up on it, quickly speaking up, “it’s good though, those kids could use a good laugh” his eyes crinkling a bit as he gives you a genuine smile.

“you’re a teacher?” you ask, the two of you moving out of the middle of the busy sidewalk.

“yeah something like that” he nods, throwing the used napkins and now empty coffee cup away.

your eyes follow his movements, noticing the way the large cup looks small in his hands. “I’m really sorry about your clothes though” you frown, the man only waved his hands in front of him.

“no really don’t worry about it! that’s what washing machines are for right?” the genuine smile on his face makes you feel a bit better, a similar one making its way onto your lips as you nod.

“can i at least replace your coffee? it was practically full” you reason. you were almost certain the handsome man in front of you would say no, then two of you would part ways and never see each other again.

almost.

“or you could repay me by going out to dinner with me? or lunch?” and for the first time since you’d bumped into him, his cheeks were red. he was blushing. even though his cheeks were rosy, he had the cockiest grin on his face. you couldn’t even enjoy the sight because you were blushing too.

“that would be-” the loud ringing of your phone causes you to jump a bit, eyes widening as you see your friend's contact name flash on your screen. “I’m so sorry” you mumble, answering and turning away from the man.

“hey” you whisper, the color draining from your face when you realize how long you’d been talking to this guy.

“what do you mean ‘hey’! prof is giving out an extra credit opportunity at the end of lecture” they rush out, “you’re lucky he stepped out right now so i could call you, hurry your ass over here!”

you hear the dial tone before you can reply, holding in a groann of frustration before taking a deep breath and turning around.

“sorry” you smile, “i really have to get to lecture, i'm already super late but I’d love to get dinner sometime!” the words are tumbling from your mouth as you take a pen and piece of paper out of your bag, scribbling your number and handing it to him.

“my car’s right there if you want a ride” and as tempted as you were, you decided to not completely give up on what you’d been taught regarding stranger danger.

“I’ll be fine, thank you though” you smile, watching as the man takes the paper from you. “what was your name?” he’s looking up at your words, his smile shifting to a softer one.

“satoru” he replies, “satoru gojo.”

“it’s nice to meet you satoru” a wide smile on your face as you start to gather your things, “I’m y/n,” checking the time once more with wide eyes, “I’m also gonna fail this class if i don’t leave right now, bye!” you call out, waving as you walk past him and to the bus stop.

gojo would be lying if he said he didn’t turn his infinity off the second he saw how pretty you were in the seconds before collision. could he have avoided being an hour late to a meeting with the higher ups by moving out of the way? yes!

but that means he wouldn’t have been texting you now, sending you a ‘hi it’s satoru :)’ before walking into the meeting, a fresh cup of sugary coffee in hand.

it’s only after the meeting that he meets up with the first years, smiling at them widely and grabbing megumi for a big hug.

“what is wrong with you?” the younger boy huffs, pushing satoru away and fixing his now ruffled hair. “why do you smell like coffee?” he asks, nose scrunched up.

“did you bring us coffee sensei?” nobara’s eyes are practically gleaming as she searches the classroom, hoping to find the drinks.

“did you get us pastries too?” yuji’s excitement is evident on his face as he joins nobara in her search.

“I’ll give you guys money for them later” gojo smiles, his two rowdier students sitting down happily, “someone bumped into me and made me spill coffee on myself” the grin on his face is a contrast to his students' confused faces.

“why are you smiling about that” megumi scoffs.

“it’s so romantic isn’t it? they bumped into me! i think it’s destiny” he sighs dreamily, megumi only rolls his eyes as yuji and nobara stare at each other.

satoru is sitting in his office when his phone vibrates, immediately checking it and grinning when he sees your name on the screen.

‘hii sorry i was super busy after lecture :P’

he’s setting his phone down, giggling to himself as he thinks of what to reply, trying to not seem too eager. one minute is long enough, right?

‘no worries :)’ he sends. immediately overthinking when he doesn’t see the three dots pop up. did he just kill the conversation? should he double text? is that too lame?

satoru was sure you were at home completely unphased by his texts, much more calm about the interaction than he was.

you were clinging to your roommate as you showed them the text, “what does this mean? how do i reply? when do i bring up the dinner?” you groaned, panicked as you paced the room.

“calm down!” they laughed, taking the phone from your hand and opening the message for you, “how about asking how his day was?” their voice was calm and it brought you to a complete stop, your face returning to an easy smile.

“you’re a genius” you mumble, grabbing your phone and typing back quickly.

‘how was ur day ? hope your students didn’t make fun of you too harshly hehe’

“how’s this? too much? maybe I’ll delete this part” you say, chewing on your bottom lip as your roommate smacks the back of your head. “ouch! what was that for” you pout.

“send the message as it is! you want him to like you don’t you? not some weird filtered version” you know they’re right and you can’t help but hate them for it.

“yeah yeah whatever” you snicker, “ouch!” you laugh as they pinch your arm a bit.

‘they made fun of me so much </3 the only way i can think of feeling better is seeing you soon’

“oh he’s one smooth talker” your friend smiles, peering over your shoulder, “i get why you took so long getting to lect- oh my god you’re blushing!” you’re quick to try and deny it, giving up as you burst into giggles rereading the text.

“what the fuck do i say? I don’t fucking know how to flirt” you cry out, thumbs dancing over the screen as you think of what to say.

‘just talked to a nurse and she said your condition is only gonna worsen if we don’t get dinner tomorrow at 7 :O’

‘guess I’ll just have to send you the details tomorrow huh?’

gojo satoru was never one to giggle and swing his feet from a mere text message. but as soon as he read your text he 100% was.

the next day came quickly and although you were in completely different places, the realization struck the both of you like a slap in the face.

“what am i gonna wear?” you shrieked, turning to your roommate in a panic.

“what am i gonna wear?” satoru asked nanami, nervousness etched in his every feature.

it takes you two hours and a messy room to finally pick your outfit out, smiling in the mirror as your roommate cheers you on.

“that man’s gonna get swept off his feet by you” they smile, watching as you giggle to yourself.

“he’s like six foot something so that’s unlikely” you tease, laughing as they roll their eyes at you. “but hopefully! finger crossed” you smile, setting the outfit aside as you get ready to hop in the shower, the butterflies in your stomach only growing in number as the time comes closer.

“satoru you’ve tried that shirt like six times already” nanami groans, pinching the bridge of his nose as he looks at the older man.

“but not with these shoes!” satoru isn’t sure how much longer he has until kento walks out on him, leaving him to his own defenses, so he narrows down his options quickly, finally content with his reflection in the mirror as he walks out, a giant grin painted on his face.

“you look nice” nanami says, taking a drink of water, “where are you going again?” he asks, nearly choking on his water when satoru answers him.

“a date”

“a date?”

satoru replies with a light hum, fixing his hair a bit before turning to the blonde man. “met them the other day actually, i think you’d like them!”

“they’re not even a sorcerer? do they know-” nanami begins to reason but satoru isn’t having any of it.

“no need to rain on my parade! thank you for your help I’ll call you and let you know how it goes!” he calls out, waving goodbye as nanami swipes a croissant on his way out.

“please don’t call me,” he replies, shutting the door and leaving satoru alone.

he’s quick to rush to the restroom, fluffing his hair a bit and running his fingers through it, glancing at his reflection and smiling. he doesn’t remember the last time he had felt so giddy, maybe when he, suguru and shoko had pranked yaga years ago.

but this was different, his stomach felt fuzzy and he was constantly checking his phone, willing for 6:30 to arrive so he could go pick you up.

satoru ended up leaving his house at 6, stopping by a local flower shop and getting a bouquet for you, placing it gently in the passenger seat before driving to the address you’d sent.

it’s 6:30 on the dot when you hear a knock on your door, your roommate shooting you a smile and a thumbs up as you walk out of their room and to the front door.

“hi” you smile, eyes landing on his blue ones, barely covered by the sunglasses he’s wearing.

“hi” he replies back, “oh um, these are for you” he extends his arms out, the floral smell makes your smile even bigger, face flushing as you thank him.

“you can come in! I’ll just put these in water real fast” you grin, motioning for him to come in.

he’s looking around your apartment, noticing how decorated and warm it feels, so homey. his eyes land on the framed pictures on the wall, spotting you easily among the group of people he assumes are your friends.

“oh those are so embarrassing” you chuckle, placing the vase on the dining table before turning to look at satoru, “i look so silly in like half of these” you say, gesturing to the collage of photos on the wall.

“you look great” he assures, giving you a charming smile that has your ears burning. “you ready?” you only nod, the two of you walking out as you close the door behind you, locking it quickly.

“where are we going?” you ask, satoru only smiling at you as he opens the car door for you, closing it gently and heading to the driver's seat.

“are you competitive?” the question makes your head cock to the side a bit.

“sometimes i guess, why?” you’re studying his features, taking in just how pretty he really was.

“you like arcades?” he turns to you with a smile, watching as your lips turn upwards as you smile at him.

the drive there doesn’t take too long, easy conversation flowing between the two of you as you get to know each other a bit better.

“wait, what’s your favorite color?” he asks you, walking into the colorful arcade.

“I don’t think i have one actually, ill get back to you on that” you reply, your lips forming a small pout as you think for a bit. “do you have one?” his attention is on you now.

“the color of your eyes” he flirts, loving the way your breathing hitches in your throat as you look away for a moment.

“okay I’ll admit that was smooth” you laugh, composing yourself as you look at him and bump shoulders, “don’t go getting cocky on me though, I’ll spill coffee all over you.” satoru is all smiles at your words, laughing along with you as you reach the kiosk.

the date goes amazingly, the two of you laughing as you both fail miserably at the claw games available, cheering when you finally get the small cat plush he said he thought was cute.

satoru spends a good twenty minutes trying to get the puppy plush you wanted, finally getting it after the nth time of it just barely missing the hole.

it’s during the arcade games that the two of you get more serious, resorting to cheating by pushing satoru when he passes you in the racing game you were playing, groaning when you still managed to end up in 5th and him in 1st.

it’s 10 pm when the two of you walk out of the arcade, all smiles and laughter when you get in the car.

“you have to admit i handed your ass to you in air hockey” you smiled, the puppy plushy in your hold as you watched satoru put his seatbelt on, his arm resting on the back of your seat as he reversed out.

you’re trying to calm yourself down as you notice how perfect his jawline looks and how soft the hair at the nape of his neck looks, swallowing a bit hard as you look forward.

“okay I’ll admit that one,” he chuckles, turning to face you for a second before focusing on the road again. “do you like ice cream?”

“i love ice cream” you reply, watching as his features light up at your words.

“d’you wanna go get some? we could always get some another time” he assures you, not wanting to make you uncomfortable.

“you’re very bold to assume there’ll be another time” you quip, trying to fight the smile threatening to appear on your lips.

“is that a yes?” he grins, watching the way you bite your bottom lip and look out the window before focusing your gaze on him.

“it’s not a no” your words make his body buzz, ears flushing as he pulls into the ice cream parlor. he’s sure the ice cream wouldn’t be as sweet as you were.

you’re reaching your front door only a couple minutes shy of midnight, taking your keys out of your bag before looking at satoru.

“i had a great time tonight” you smile, something you found yourself doing anytime you’d been around the white haired man.

“i did too” he’s towering over you, fingers itching to pull you closer to him. you’re staring up at him, eyes bright as he stares down at you.

satoru prays to any and every higher force as he leans down, placing a gentle kiss to your cheek, his face beet red as he meets your eyes.

“sleep well,” he smiles, ready to turn around when you stop him. your fingers wrapping around his wrist as you pull him towards you, a chaste kiss being placed on his cheek.

“let me know when you get home safe” you say, heartbeat in your ears as you walk into your apartment, giving him a small wave as he begins to walk away.

it’s only seconds later that you’re giggling and shrieking like a schoolgirl, a blush and smile on your face that you can’t seem to get rid of.

satoru texts you minutes later, letting you know he was home safe and he had a great time. you’re quick to reply, telling him you had so much fun and looked forward to next time.

the two of you ended up texting back and forth practically all night, only stopping when you’d fallen asleep between texts, waking up the next morning and apologizing for leaving him on read.

the two of you continued to go out on dates almost every week, texting back and forth and having late FaceTime calls when you were too exhausted to text.

“this prof is so- ugh!” you groan, your head resting on your crossed arms over your desk, only the top of your head being visible to gojo.

“what do you have left to do?” he asks through your phone, his upper body visible, a black sweatshirt on as he plays some game on his switch. he had wanted to give you company while you finished your last assignment, cheering you on.

as you explained your assignment, satoru listened intently, pausing his game and reading a notification he’d gotten. his lips formed a small frown, and as he replied you noticed his brows were furrowed.

“y/n im sorry i have to go take care of this work thing” he sighs.

“it’s like 2 am though?” you say, suddenly not exhausted at all as you look at him through your screen. “what do you have to do at school at 2 in the morning?”

nanami’s words ring in his ears as he tries to come up with something. he had to tell you eventually if he really wanted to make this serious.

“one of my students needs help with something,” he explains, “they live on campus.”

you nod, apologizing for sounding so accusatory and blaming the exhaustion, saying goodbye before you hang up.

satoru is groaning, pulling his uniform on before teleporting to campus, Ijichi ready to take him to where the curse had been spotted. he’s distracted the entire time, the only thought on his mind being how he was going to tell you.

would you even want to be with him after that?

satoru bites the bullet two dates later, the two of you sitting on a blanket when he faces you, playful looks gone and replaced by a more serious, nervous one.

“i need to tell you something,” he says, and you can feel your heart falling as the smile fades from your face.

it’s a lot to take in. you’re listening to satoru talk about the Jujutsu world, explaining everything as best he could but not wanting to overwhelm you.

“that’s why you always wear sunglasses?”

satoru is shocked that that’s the question you ask him first. he nods his head nonetheless.

“i understand if you don’t wanna deal with all this, i just- i wanted to tell you before we made it more serious” he says, clearing his throat awkwardly, admitting he wanted to make things official.

satoru gave you time and space to decide on your own, not pushing you towards any decision. he did however call nanami later that day, in shambles as he explained to him he might’ve just fumbled the best opportunity of love he’d ever get in his life.

it’s days later when yuji is running up to satoru with his phone in hand, “sensei! it’s y/n they’re calling you!” he shouts, tossing the phone to gojo before smiling up at him brightly as he answers.

“hello?” he asks, biting his bottom lip nervously. yuji can’t make out exactly what you’re saying, but as he sees a smile form on gojo’s face and a giggle leave his lips, he knows it’s something good.

“I’ll be there in a minute” he smiles, hanging up before looking at yuji with a wide smile. “we are so back!” he cheers, yuji high fiving him before he sees him teleporting away.

satoru is at your front door quite literally one minute later, knocking gently. you open the door with a smile, not realizing how much you missed seeing him the past two weeks.

“hi” you breathe out, did he get buffer? we’re his shoulders always that broad?

“hi” he smiles, “where’s the bug?” he asks, following you into your apartment as you point at the corner of your living room, watching in fright as satoru takes the cup from your hands and easily reaches up to capture it.

he’s letting the little guy outside, setting him in between the shrubs and handing you your cup back with a smile. “if that’s all you needed I’ll get going” he says, looking at you with a small smile.

you’re hesitant for a second, but as he takes another step closer to the door you find yourself moving on your own.

“wait don’t go” it’s rushed out and your voice isn’t as confident as you want it to be. but satoru is turning around, his face bright as he turns to face you, eyes gleaming. “i- i thought about it” you say, picking at your fingers and shifting your weight onto your other foot.

satoru is quiet, a soft string of ‘please’ echoing through his head as he waits for you to continue. he’s looking at you intently and you finally speak up after what feels like forever.

“i really like you” you breathe out, eyes flickering between your hands and satoru’s face, “i haven’t felt this way about someone maybe ever and god that’s embarrassing to say out loud” you laugh, satoru’s smile only grows wider as you continue.

“i don’t know anything about your magic world or whatever it’s called, but I’d love to give this a try” you say, out of breath as you look up at him, “if you still wanna,” your brain finally catching up with your mouth and you wonder if you just embarrassed yourself in front of the most perfect man in the world.

“I’d want nothing more in the world” he grins, stepping a bit closer to you, his fingers just barely grazing the skin of your cheek before he’s pulling away.

you’re so close to each other, you can smell his minty breath, you can see just how glossy his lips are and you can make out the faintest shapes of his dimples.

“that’s good, or that would’ve been embarrassing” you mumble, satoru smiles at your words, neither one of you moving an inch.

“no yeah i get it, cause of everything and, yeah” his words don’t make sense, yet you somehow are nodding along in understanding. your eyes flicking down to his lips.

“for sure” you whisper, looking up to meet his eyes before leaning in just a bit more, voice trailing off.

he doesn’t wanna rush you into this, but he’s certain his hearts gonna give out any second if you don’t close the distance between the two of you.

“can i kiss you?” he voice is airy and light, and you don’t have enough confidence in your voice as you nod your head, your eyes fluttering shut as his lips meet yours.

he tastes like mint and honey lip balm, and you can’t help but want more, more and more as your lips move against one another. you can feel your body growing hotter by the second, your hand finding its way to the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging on it.

your mind is blank as you kiss him, the only fleeting thought in your mind is him. his blue eyes, his bad jokes, the way he knew exactly when to text you, how he really listened to what you were saying. you could only think of him.

satoru can feel his body buzzing, his arms snaking around your waist and pulling you closer to him, face flushing as you both pull away, trying to catch your breath.

you’re both smiling at each other, sheepish giggles filling the living room as you pull away from each other. satoru’s face is flushed red, his lips still tingling from the moments prior. you’re the first to break the silence, the two of you still standing.

“you gonna ask me out or are we keeping this moment ambiguous?” your voice is light as you speak, the giddiness behind your voice is obvious as you smile up at him.

“you just can’t live without me” he sighs, laughing when you smack his chest. he’s quick to follow you to the couch, sitting next to you and grabbing your hand.

“will you do me the honor of being mine?” the golden rays of the setting sun hit him perfectly, blue eyes practically glowing as they look back at you. his dimples are prominent now as he smiles.

“I’d want nothing more” you reply, giggling as he peppers your face with feathery kisses.

time seems to fly once the two of you begin dating, one second you’re shyly holding hands on a walk and the next he’s stealing fries off your plate like it’s instinct.

it’s three months since that day, and you were beyond grateful that a spider had appeared in your apartment, even more so that satoru wasn’t scared of bugs like you were.

satoru is knocking on your door, drenched to the bone and holding a bouquet of blue flowers, smiling at you through his dripping wet bangs, “missed you so much” he pouts as you let him in.

“satoru i saw you two days ago” you giggle, “don’t you have infinity? why are you soaking wet?” he’s sporting a grin that you’ve come to learn means trouble.

“don’t you wanna cuddle me and make sure i don’t catch a cold?” his smile turning into a pout, his pleading eyes tugging on your heartstrings as you roll your eyes.

“you’re so annoying” you scoff, “take your wet clothes off” you instruct, taking the flowers from his hand and placing them in a vase on the dining table.

satoru is quick to peel the wet clothes from his body, goosebumps rising on his skin as the air hits him. “if i had known flowers got you in the mood i would’ve bought you ‘em everyday” he teases, walking over to you as drops of water roll down his abs.

it takes all your willpower to not check him out, looking at him with furrowed brows and a shocked expression, “so you wouldn’t buy me flowers everyday just cause you care about me?” an accusatory tone to your words that has satoru’s life flashing before his eyes.

“wow, all men are the same,” you sigh, shaking your head as you walk to grab a towel from your restroom.

your path is quickly blocked by the sorcerer, eyes wide as he begins to apologize, “i didn’t mean it like that sweets im-”

your laughter cuts him off, “just messing with ya angel boy” pressing a kiss to his cheek before patting his shoulder as you walk around him. the pet name causing his cheeks to flush and his dimples to peak out.

“now seriously go take a warm shower and I’ll make us some hot cocoa” satoru is saluting you as you hand him some clothes to change into, noting that the shirt you gave him is one he’d been searching for weeks for.

it’s when you’re laying on the couch together, cuddled in his arms watching reality tv and complaining about the drama that you get a fuzzy feeling in your stomach and in your chest.

it’s when he’s resting his head on your stomach, the two of you in the countryside gazing up at the stars, hushed giggles as you make up your own constellations.

it’s in the little moments the two of you share that you realize you love him.

the realization dawns on you when satoru points at the stars ‘that can be our star!’ he smiles, and you’re choking on your hot chocolate as the thought crosses your mind.

“oh my god what’s wrong with you?” satoru gasps, patting your back and staring at you with wide eyes as he sits up.

your face is flushed as you finally stop coughing, drinking some water and staring at your boyfriend. his hair is a bit messy from the back, the navy sweatshirt hanging loosely off his body, you can smell his cologne on your shirt.

what if he wasn’t ready? what if he didn’t want to commit or what if-

“are you gonna throw up on me?” his brows furrowed with concern as he studied your face, “cause then you’d owe me two shirts.”

you only manage to scoff at him, rolling your eyes at him, “you’re so annoying” the grin on your face giving away your true feelings.

“yeah but you love me” the words leave his mouth before he can even process what he’s saying. the color leaving his face when his brain does catch up, trying to take his words back.

“i mean what- what i meant to say was that you really like me” his face is red as he stutters his words out, too flustered to even look at you.

“but what if I did?” you whisper, eyes frantically searching his face. 

there’s a beat of silence and you’re afraid you’ve ruined it all. maybe you were gonna throw up on him after all. 

“I really hope this isn’t one of your hypothetical questions,” his confidence wavering as he continues, “because I’d tell you I felt the same way.” his heart is racing and he thinks maybe he’s gonna owe you a shirt for throwing up on you. 

“i love you,” the words are quiet, as if it’s a secret meant to be kept between him and the stars. 

“I love you,” you whisper back, the moonlight kissing your flushed cheeks before your lover does. satoru doesn’t mind, taking a second to admire you before he’s placing his palms on your cheeks and bringing you in for a kiss.

the dark blue expanse of the night sky looks plain in comparison to the love filled, blue of satoru’s eyes. you’re sure you can see stars of his own gleaming in his eyes.

your love for satoru grew into something that you could imagine would resemble an sky: immeasurable.

satoru’s love for you grew into something he could imagine resembling the ocean: seemingly endless.

he thought it was some miracle he bumped into you that fated morning. constantly thanking his past self for finally checking out the cafe on that street. he wonders what would’ve happened if he’d gone his usual way, if he hadn’t spent an extra minute cooing at the cafe cat after he’d gotten his order. 

he can feel fate watching over the two of you and smiling as you place the last box on the floor of his house. not just his anymore, yours too now. 

“i can't believe you finally agreed to move in with me” he smiles, easily grabbing your waist and pressing his lips to yours, the same taste of mint and honey filling your senses. “finally gonna feel like home here” he mumbles, his lips still softly pressed against yours. 

“I’m only moving in because-” you begin, satoru pressing his lips against yours to shut you up. 

“ ‘cause your roommate is moving out yeah yeah” he groans, placing a kiss on your nose before letting you go, “you know it’s okay to admit you’d been wanting to move in after you came over the first time” a small pout on his glossy lips as you stare at him. 

“with a place like this and a roommate like you who wouldn’t wanna live here” you hum, walking towards the couch and letting yourself flop down, breathing out a deep sigh and smiling. 

satoru is quick to join you, scooping you up and wiggling himself next to you, placing half of your body on his before letting out a happy sigh. 

home. 

“what should we have for dinner in our new home?” you can feel the vibrations of his words on his chest, moving a bit to get a bit more comfortable. 

“you mean my new home? you’ve lived here for years already” you laugh, craning your neck to stare up at your lover.

“it didn’t feel like home,” the words come easily to him, “not without you here” he says, cheeks rosy as he speaks. and while it wasn’t uncommon for him to voice his affections, it was rare for the words to come out with no teasing lilt to them, but instead laced with genuine emotion. 

our home. 

somehow the couch manages to fit the two of you, a mess of limbs and blankets as the rain continues to pour outside, the hot chocolate on the coffee table is cold and the marshmallows long gone. the credits are rolling on the movie you’d put on, and the only thing waking the two of you is the clap of thunder shaking your windows. 

satoru grips you a bit tighter as he jolts awake, looking at you before he’s fully awake and looking around. 

“did we fall asleep?” his voice is raspy, rubbing his eyes a bit and laying his head back on the pillow when you hum in response. he’s frowning when he feels you crawl off of him, staring at you as you turn the tv off and stand up. 

“let’s go to bed” you mumble, holding your hand out and grabbing his, tugging slightly. “your neck is gonna hurt in the morning if you sleep like that and I’ll be the one hearing your complaints.” 

there’s no real irritation behind your words, and the look on your face gives that away. 

“yeah but you’d still baby me all day if it did” he yawned, smiling when you roll your eyes at him, walking away from the couch. satoru whines a bit, getting up quickly and sweeping you off your feet to carry you to bed. 

he places you down gently, mumbling something about how comfortable he was, only smiling when you’re both under the covers and wrapped in each other's arms. 

you let the soft patter of the rain against the windows lull the two of you sleep, whispers of sweet nothings and ‘i love you’s’ lost between claps of thunder and flashes of lightning. 

your love was as comforting and calm as the blue rain easing his mind to sleep, every stroke of his hair making his eyelids heavier and heavier. 

the blue and white flowers look beautiful, you think, taking a deep breath before staring down the aisle. 

“ready?” your friend asks you, the same who helped you type texts out and save you from missing extra credit. you only nod, the butterflies in your stomach growing exponentially with every step you take. 

despite the array of pastels and the people smiling at you, all you see is blue. 

the blue sky shining down on you, smiling widely at satoru whose eyes are landing on you immediately. his blue eyes watering a bit, he’s wondering how he managed to get so lucky. 

your love for satoru is blue, in the same way the blue sky is boundless and the rain is comforting and calming. 

satoru’s love for you was blue, in the same way the ocean was endless and unpredictable. 

and as you’re staring into his pretty blue eyes, you smile at him, giggling a bit. 

“what’s so funny? you planning on objecting?” he whispers, a smile on his face as you shake your head. 

“blue” you whisper back, smiling as his face turns into one of confusion, “my favorite colors blue.” 

the reality of it all hits satoru at once, and he’s swept back to years ago, with you bumping into him one fated morning, a whirlwind of events following and leading the two of you here. 

“and mine is still the color of your eyes” he mumbles, instinctively leaning in for a kiss, being brought to reality when you elbow him lightly. 

“can’t you wait a couple more minutes? we’re about to get married” you giggle, trying to not take away attention from the current speaker.

“I'll wait forever if it means I have you” he whispers, “and i'll let you spill coffee on all my shirts,” he smiles, watching the way your face flushes as the two of you stand. 

“you're so annoying” you grin, taking out your vows as you look at him, a soft smile on his face as the paper in his hands shake lightly. 

what relief i also found my favorite color in your eyes, you think, smiling as the ceremony continues on.

taglist (send an ask to be added!): @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @4sat0ruu @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags @anarosextodo @luna0713hunter @torusmochi

[harfanfare]

Idia drabble, fluff, female reader! ♡

You know you’re in for a losing game when you have to ask AI chat to help you with date ideas.

Idia outrightly rejected places that statistically—he pulled up an unnecessary chart, to prove you—had many people visiting at every time of the year. Maybe for some exceptions for ungodly hours, but, while he really loves you, he would rather relax with you in a bed with a silly game on than wake up at 3 am to, whatever, go to the planetarium and stare at the cosmos.

And, we might do it in VR, either way, he argues with your every suggestion.

“Well,” you persist, glancing from the screen at Idia whose attention is divided between you with your half-hearted pleadings, and his game character who clears another villain camp with slashes of a grand sword and sharp arrows. “Can’t we get something to eat, then?”

“Instant soups are irreplaceable.”

“That’s why we should eat something else to confirm their superiority over other goods once again,” you lick your lips to hide a subtle smile as Idia grins at your debating point. It’s an unreasonable argument, yet you have known your boyfriend for long enough to know that these ones are the most convincing when you are out of ideas. “Like, churros maybe? Or those fine-looking cupcakes.”

“They have too much crème and are too heavy in taste. Have you ever tried one? They are like dry cake and sugar but with a fancy texture. Sooo unhealthy, mm.”

He says it as the bag that was filled with candy this morning, falls soundly from the desk. Idia was never one to say no to sweets, but only to the ones that suit his specific tastes: then, even the most logical reasons to eat healthier don’t come in handy. If it wasn’t for Ortho, and now you, he would’ve probably died from the excess of sugar from that sweet and sour gummy candy he loves.

You collect the bag before the little cleaning robot can ever reach it, and on the way to the trashcan, you bonk an empty plastic bottle on your boyfriend’s head. He should instil in himself some want of keeping his room tidy.

“So, the cafes are no-go?”

“Yeah.”

You take a seat again next to Idia and scroll down through the list of generated date ideas.

“Even the cat cafes?”

Idia opens his mouth to protest but finds that he can’t bring himself to do so. The silence is long enough that you stop reading the AI suggestions and lift your gaze up to Idia.

That’s the pause you’ve been waiting for.

“Then, it’s decided!” You clasp your hands together, and beam at Idia as he sighs at you. “I should have known that the virtual cats could never replace the real ones.”

Your boyfriend remains silent. The awkward expression he makes as two different parts of himself battle each other is entrancing; should he go mingle with other people to go to the cafe, or he will be better off remaining adamant about his vow of not going out anywhere? The fact he doesn’t roast you over this suggestion, makes it look like the former stance was a bit more appealing.

“Then I shall put them on your ultimate weakness list,” you say cheerily, getting giddy over Idia being wordless. It’s such a rare sight since he’s got used to the little acts of intimacy. Though you loved his stutters and furious blushes, the banter and suave smiles are welcome as well, of course. You can’t help but move closer to him and give him a peck on his lips. The single strands of his hair light up to pink, and you smile. “I am gathering an intel on you.”

Idia blinks and lays back in his chair, his game paused for a second. You know that gesture too well; in idianese it’s a sign that he changed his mindset to “it is what it is”, and decided that the worst case scenario might still be worth going to the cat cafe. In a fit of new resolution, his playful wryness returns in a heartbeat.

“Heh, yeah? It’s very wise of you to do so. How much data have you gathered already?”

You open a notebook app on your phone.

“Well, as I started putting it up just five seconds ago, there are… people… and me… And now cats,” you list out loud as you quickly type things into your phone. The basic font and too big characters make the list look like some kind of meme, which, in a way, it is. “And me, again.”

Idia snorts. “Basic info. Weak.”

“I could prepare your character profile. I know more of your strengths than weaknesses,” You say, and make a mental note to do a powerpoint presentation on Idia, this time with fewer memes and more candid photos of him. “But it's still enough to have you go on a date with me!”

He sighs again. Idia likes to make show off how much trouble he has to go through for you, but you don’t miss how his eyes light up, even if he rolls his eyes.

“I guess we can go for one short date there,” he tells you slowly, and before you believe once again that you have the magic privilege of a girlfriend, he throws a comment that quenches the flames of your self-satisfaction. “You are the one ordering, though.”

…No. Your fellow introvert won’t be dumping the trial of courage solely on you.

“Let’s take turns.”

“Offer rejected.”

“Let’s bring Ortho.”

“Offer accepted,” he lifts his hand as if he demands a pause in a game. “…But don’t you mind bringing my brother on a date?”

“It will be a “hangout” then. At least, until Ortho decides that we are too cringe and dumps us in the middle, then it’ll turn its status to a date.”

“Will he?” Idia ponders, but then his eyes land on you, and he smiles knowingly. “Oh yeah, he will. He might have implemented himself a module to go away if our cringe stat will rise over sixty per cent.”

“That’s a generous amount of cringe we can spread.”

“With you, I think it should be doubled.”

“Thanks, I love you too.”

“You’re welcome.”

[despairots]

#A NIGHT TO REMEMBER, o. dazai!

a special oneshot!

description, it’s special to know how the other feels. to communicate is the best, though, dazai isn’t one for words but it’s fine, you’re the same. neither of you can put the feelings you have into words.

— story contains, angst, established relationship, swearing, suicide mentions, depressing talks, “no longer human” connections i think?, r! psychoanalysis’s i guess?, mental health, trauma talking, character deaths, if i missed anything let me know! gender neutral! reader.

“why are you writing this?” bc dazai is one of the characters i heavily relate to on another level. hes so much different from mizuki akiyama and satoru gojo. and this is just me talking a lot about dazai’s character and analyzing him… btw, r! wears a black blazer (or leather jacket) white button up with a black waist coat, either brown shorts or pants (maybe black of u want), underneath the shorts or pants are like black tights and slip on penny loafers.

long before you started dating dazai, there was an obvious connection that you only saw and felt. obviously, you were friends during those time periods because you worked in the same place, everyone there were friends.

though, the friendship you two had were entirely different from the rest, had the same humour but showing it differently. you wouldn’t lie and say that dazai flirting with you just to ask for a double suicide didn’t concern you, because it did. there’s no doubt that he’ll try and eventually succeed (although, death doesn’t accept him).

there’s nothing that can kill this man, no matter how hard he tries. you picked that up during one of his failed attempts, it almost succeeded if kunikida wasn’t there, you thanked him a ton. all he said in response is that; “i have to look over that idiot one way or another.” no matter how much dazai annoys his coworkers, they still care.

when dazai tries to commit and somewhat fails, it’s almost like he’s punishing himself for still being alive. you know his past, after all, you were in port mafia with him, even though you two didn’t work together or how he didn’t know you during that time, you sure knew him.

he was surrounded by death, in the port mafia and the ada, it follows him yet never accepts it’s his time to come to the afterlife. he makes these plans that somewhat end up succeeding though he hurts himself in the process, always worrying you. what if eventually death actually accepts him at some point?

dazai has been extraordinarily smart every since he was a kid to the point where he’s been dehumanized by dubbing him; “the demon prodigy”. you didn’t know anything about his parents, you did know what drove him to be tired of living. he’s tired living, bored by life and the people around him, to him, they are easily predictable and manipulated that nothing can surprise him.

he can’t find sense to the world but most importantly, he doesn’t find sense in life, he ends up reverting to extensional depression, continuing the cycle he lives in.

dazai has been exploited ever since he was 14 and taken into the port mafia by mori. he was kept alive by mori, by chuuya, by everyone. he was used until there was nothing left. he never had any love nor hope (that he’d ever have someone to understand him) until a friend he later brought up to you, oda.

he truly believed he deserved everything that happened to him in the port mafia.

you believe that younger dazai never believed that he could be better, but if he’s changing now than he always had the ability to change, just never tried. he was sure the mafia was the only fate he had and the only place to escape of living.

then oda died. dazai was free, with ango’s help of wiping his criminal records. without ango’s help, he would’ve never been free from mafia, though he knows his past will always haunt him, he’s accepted that. he also knows that his indebted to ango, he knows he owes him.

since oda’s death, dazai’s trust had ran thin and he’s always on guard, his ability to open up to anyone had been cut off because he can not lose anyone again. the things he cares about and didn’t wanna lose, is lost the moment he gains it.

his plans always evolve other people, rather to manipulate or exploit. you don’t blame him, if it meant surviving, you would do it too.

he is someone who jokes but never opens up nor can be his true self. he’s a wreck who will drag anyone else down with him, that was a price you had to pay for dating him. he repulsed the idea of love and being in a relationship with you because of how he’ll be afraid of losing you.

dazai dated you as a joke, to see how thing will end, until he realized that you were somewhat different. you were always one step of ahead, had almost the same ability that involved contact, and you had this missing glint in your eyes. that’s just the surface though.

dazai knows there’s more to you— he doesn’t know about your connections to the port mafia though— but he doesn’t bother bringing the topic up to you though nor does he like talking about it.

at nights like this, where he’s staring aimlessly somewhere and devoid of emotion, he’s completely vulnerable in your shared dorm. sitting on the couch, cheek on the palm of his hand as the other searches the cold touch of your hand, seeking for some company.

—and you’re there. sitting on the couch with him and a book discarded in your lap, only staring at dazai with a look of curiosity and content, he looks peaceful despite the war going on in his head.

(you were memorized by the destruction he creates and has, it was peaceful to know what beautiful destruction that dazai carries with him).

when dazai feels the cold skin of your hand, he could feel his ability cancelling yours out as your hand covers his, holding it tightly yet so soft that he wonders if you’re even there. dazai finally looks at you, face still devoid of emotion, watching you reopen your book.

“morning, sleeping beauty.” you hummed softly, an amused tone with your words. dazai groaned and knocked your book off your lap, kicking his legs up into your lap and laying down, now staring up at the ceiling.

hearing dazai go silent wasn’t rare, it was rather common when you two are in your shared dorm, but not hearing him say something stupid back confused you.

you turned your head to dazai, taking notice of his eyes that threatened to pour tears in front of you, “you okay, ‘samu?” knowing him for a while now, he wouldn’t open up and talk about his feelings. it’s fine though, you’re like that too, and you wouldn’t mind waiting forever even if it didn’t come.

dazai didn’t respond.

he never did.

he closed his eyes and if you listened closer, you could hear the shaky breath that he exhaled. taking his hand in yours, you placed a chaste kiss to his palm, the contact making dazai open his eyes slowly and sit up on his elbows.

“when are you gonna leave?” he’s says stupid shit all the time, it doesn’t effect you, none of his words effect you. it should’ve effected you but it didn’t, and dazai could tell by the unamused look on your face, “when are you gonna take your life seriously?” you lightly jabbed at him, hearing him scoff and mutter ‘hypocrite’ underneath his breath.

dazai sat up properly, scooting closer to you and grabbing your hand, setting his head on your shoulder. dazai’s touch starved but refuses any contact that doesn’t involve him initiating it, you’re an expectation, you’ve always been every since the relationship started.

silence took over you, the fan in the background aswell as dazai’s calming breath stirring you into a tired state, laying your head on dazai’s head (knowing the neck pain wouldn’t be worth it tomorrow).

“y’know i’d wait, right?” dazai hums underneath his breath as a response, “how do i know you’re not lying?” and you scoff. rolling your tired eyes, for a guy like him to ask you that question is amusing. “we’ve been lying to eachother for a while but i’m not lying about this, ‘samu.”

the former executive makes himself more comfortable in the crook of your neck, forcing you to lay down and keep him close, “i know.” the words came out muffled, and alas, his eyes are shut again and his sleeping in your arms that are now warm.

with him being asleep, you could pick out the smallest details about the boy in your arms. in your arms, he isn’t the former demon prodigy, in your arms, he isn’t a former port mafia member, in your arms, he isn’t a dehumanized person.

he’s just a boy.

osamu dazai isn’t one for words, but it’s okay, because you’re not one for words either. it’s gonna be like that for awhile, or forever, only time could tell. dazai knows this; you know this. and since dazai’s betrayal to the port mafia, he’s changing, but if he’s changing now, he was always capable of changing, he just never cared enough to try.

osamu dazai isn’t one for words, neither are you.

tick.

[torisabitgay]

Stoned (Doctor Edition)

TWs: Use of weed

You finally attend a medical conference with Amelia. Little do you know that one muffin later, you will wreak absolute havoc during a presentation.

(F/F, Amelia Shepherd x femreader, they are together but it’s not stated, straight up comedy, 2K words)

You and Amelia were at a medical conference in New York. You hadn’t attended many of these (thanks to your short attention span) but you didn’t want Amelia to leave you for a weekend so you begrudgingly decided to tag along.

There was a presentation on new and improved diagnostic techniques that you were both going to attend. You sipped your coffee, sat at a table in the massive lounging area of the building. Amelia sat next to you, sipping her coffee and finishing up her sandwich. Your stomach rumbled in response and you huffed quietly. Amused, Amelia looked up, “I did ask if you wanted to eat something.”

You rolled your eyes, taking another sip of coffee hoping the bitter taste would quench your appetite. “I wasn’t hungry before.”

Almost on cue, a friendly looking man approached with a decorated box. Your curiosity was instantly piqued and you turned to him.

“Muffin?” He offered.

Amelia gave you a bit of a cautious look. Now, you were smart. You were a surgeon, god damn it. So what possessed you to take a muffin from a stranger, you’ll never know. Perhaps it was the hunger. Perhaps it was the need for adventure. Whatever it was, it ended with a smile and a nod. “Thank you.” Graciously, you took one and he smiled innocently enough and walked off.

Amelia looked at you, concerned. “You aren’t about to eat that, are you?”

Oh but the way the chocolate muffin glistened in the light, you could see chunks of dark, white, and milk chocolate baked into the batter. Pressing the muffin, you could tell the texture was perfectly fudgey and smooth.

You were salivating like a dog.

“[First Name], would you have taken that muffin if he was balding, overweight, with missing teeth?” Amelia said, looking at you like at a person about to jump off a bridge.

She had a point. Pretty privilege in society was a very real thing. But the man didn’t have bad VIBES, and this was a conference for doctors only, so he had to be a doctor. So according to the Hippocratic oath, he wasn’t allowed to do harm.

You shrugged. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

Oh boy.

I’ll hand it to you, the muffin was delicious. And under different circumstances, it might’ve been a fun adventure. Not today though. Oh god, not today.

You threw away your empty coffee cup, before you and Amelia made your way into the presentation hall. It was a massive hall. With a lot of seats. And a lot of people. You could not imagine being the host. You and Amelia managed to find some seats in the middle of the hall, sat side by side. You still had some time before the presentation actually began, so you figured you’d get comfortable and make light conversation. “So how long is this thing anyway?”

She shrugged, as she scrolled through her phone. “Oh like 4 hours, not too bad.”

Your eyes widened in horror, shock, dread, maybe even fear. Four hours? Of sitting still? And listening? Oh. God. “You’re kidding right?”

“Yes, I’m kidding, idiot. It’s like 2 hours tops.” She rolled her eyes and looked over at you with an affectionate and playful smirk.

You never felt such relief. “Oh thank god. I would’ve actually died.”

She chuckled, and the lights dimmed to signify the start of the presentation. She whispered over to you one last time. “You’ll be fine, it’ll be interesting, just watch.”

And watch you did.

The host began talking about current diagnostic procedures and tests, sharing his take on why some of them suck and how they could be improved. Then about half an hour in, he started introducing cool new techniques that he and other doctors and researches had developed.

You gasped in fascination.

You gasped. In fascination.

You. Gasped.

A lot of people started to look around at who on earth just gasped in pure delight in the middle of a presentation. People around you turned to look at you. Amelia included. She had a look of horror mixed with a slight tinge of concern.

“Sorry.” You mouthed to the people around you, and sunk back into your seat, slumping down in a weak attempt to hide.

Okay. Weird. But whatever. Everyone moved on. Well, nearly.

Amelia leaned in to you and whispered. “What the hell was that?”

You looked over to her and shrugged. Honestly, you had no idea what that was. You were just so captivated by the talk and reacted on instinct. Maybe. God, your head felt fuzzy. Has it always felt this fuzzy? Why did the air feel fuzzy? You shook your head, trying to shake off the fuzziness. It only made it worse.

Amelia leaned back, eyeing you for a couple of moments before her gaze returned to the presentation.

So did yours. Except, focusing on the presentation was pretty difficult when your mouth felt… strangely empty. Like really empty. Like a black hole sort of emptiness. Are black holes empty? Black holes are cool. Maybe you’re in a black hole. What? What’s happening? You shook your head again and sipped your coffee.

Amelia’s head pretty much darted in your direction. You looked back over at her, a slightly fearful look on your face. Did you drink too loud? No. Surely not. You barely drank it.

“Whose coffee is that?” Amelia whispered as she pointed to the cup.

You looked down at your coffee cup.

…

“That’s not your coffee. You threw your coffee out. Whose coffee are you drinking?” Amelia whispered again.

You looked back over to her, your mouth slightly open with a confused and slightly dazed expression on your face. It took you a few moments before you replied in a whisper. “What coffee?”

Amelia’s eyebrows knitted in bewilderment, eyes widening a little. She pointed to your coffee cup. “THAT.”

You looked down at your coffee cup. What? Since when did you have a coffee cup? You didn’t even remember drinking it.

“[First Name], what the hell is going on with you?” Amelia whispered again, slightly sharper.

You. Had. No. Idea.

You looked back up at her. You should say something right? You haven’t spoken in a while. “Nothing.”

She raised an eyebrow as if to say ‘yeah right’, before shaking her head, and looking back to the presentation, glancing over at you every so often to make sure you weren’t having a stroke or something.

You leaned back in your seat again and suddenly felt a coffee cup in your hand. What? Whose coffee was this? You looked over to the guy sat next to you and whispered. “Hey. Hey. Sorry.” He looked apprehensive. “Hi, is this your coffee?” He nodded hesitantly. “Okay, one sec.” You took another sip of the coffee to fill the void in your mouth, before holding it out to him. He politely declined and pushed the cup away. What? Why? “You don’t want it?” He shook his head. “Oh okay.” You sat back.

Amelia watched the entire exchange with a hand pressed to her face in disappointment. You noticed her expression and decided to try focus on the movie playing.

After a couple of minutes of concentration, you whispered to Amelia. “This is a really good movie.”

Her concern grew. She stared at you. “Movie? What movie? We’re… watching a presentation.” She sat up a little, body angled towards you.

A presentation? Okay that made more sense. You wondered why the movie was so 3D. You nodded. “Right, right, yeah. Presentation.”

Oh but she wasn’t letting it go so easily. Something was wrong. You were acting delusional. “[First Name], you’re scaring me.” Amelia spoke, her whisper firm.

“But this isn’t a horror movie.” You turned your attention to her.

If her eyes widened even more, you’re sure her eyelids would snap. “What the actual fuck are you talking about?” She whispered yelled.

You furrowed your brows. “Who?”

“You.” She said, starting to get frustrated.

“You?”

“No, YOU.”

“Me.”

“Yes, you.”

“… what?” At that response, she leaned back in her chair with a defeated thump. A part of her was convinced you were being annoying on purpose, while another part was concerned that something deeper was going on. “Sorry, [First Name].” You whispered to her.

She picked up her head again and looked at you. “Huh? Did you just call me [First Name]?”

“…”

Another part of her was starting to get concerned that SHE was the one having a stroke or something. “You’re [First Name]. I’m Amelia.”

You nodded. “Nice to meet you, I’m Amelia.”

Amelia very nearly threw her hands up in frustration. “NO. I’M Amelia. You’re not Amelia!”

Your eyes widened and you whispered back. “WHAT?”

“[First Name], I SWEAR TO GOD.” She raised her voice. People turned around again.

Amelia’s face instantly flushed and her gaze flicked to the ground. People whispered and gave her disapproving looks but eventually everyone turned back around. You looked apologetically over to Amelia, but you couldn’t help the small giggle that escaped your lips. She looked up slowly. If looks could kill… it wouldn’t look great for you.

And somehow, this made you giggle more.

“[First Name].”

You were giggling as quietly as possible, with small hiccups of breath in between silent chuckles.

She shook her head and clenched her jaw, looking back at the presentation. Only an hour in, and you were already driving her insane.

You managed to collect yourself. Mostly. Maybe a sip of coffee would help you calm down?

Yeah, no.

The second your mouth filled with coffee, it was already out. All over you. All over the poor woman in front. And you were giggling uncontrollably again. This was officially the worst day of Amelia’s life (and she’s had A LOT of bad days). She stared in absolute horror. Disbelief. Outrage.

The woman in front of you turned to look at what was going on. She was not happy. Thank god she wore a black sweater to the conference. You, however, weren’t as lucky. Your fancy, new light-coloured outfit was covered in coffee.

And Amelia couldn’t take it anymore. She apologised profusely on your behalf to the woman in front, and then grabbed your arm harshly, but not painfully. Everyone stared as the two of you made your way out of the presentation hall, Amelia looking at the ground in shame as you giggled behind.

Woah, standing up made the fuzziness a lot worse. You couldn’t walk actually. You felt like you were swimming instead. And, oops…

Your leg got caught on one of the chairs and you went flying into some poor elderly man. Amelia wanted to die right then and there. She pulled you off of him, as you laughed so hard you had tears in your eyes, and she dragged you out of that hall as if her life depended on it.

Once the two of you were out in the hallway, she stared at you in… concern? Anger? Fear?

“[First Name]… what the hell was that?”

You giggled as you looked over at her and spoke. “What?”

She continued to stare incredulously.

You looked at her. In this light, your dopey smile and red eyes looked… familiar.

The gears started to turn as her face dropped in realisation. “The muffin.”

You nearly barked out a laugh. “What???” You asked again.

“The muffin you ate, idiot.” She said slowly. “You’re high as a kite right now! It was laced!”

Oh. Oh yeah. Oh yeah, you were STONED. Now it made sense.

You snickered some more. She groaned. “No, [First Name], this isn’t funny, this is…” She couldn’t help but start to smirk at your intoxicated giggles. “Stop laughing. Do you know how dangerous this is?“ She said, but she started to grin herself.

Maybe because of the absurdity of the situation.

Maybe because it all made sense now.

Or maybe because you were absolutely blitzed out of your mind.

Whatever it was, it sure made for a funny story to reminisce on. Needless to say you don’t take muffins from strangers anymore.

[oh-shit-i-spilled-my-genderfluid]

Random Vincent Sinclair headcannons

- doesn’t wear his mask in the basement, and usually not in his everyday life. It’s not super comfortable and he can’t see/breathe well with it and his brothers don’t give a shit what he looks like, so why wear it out for no reason? Also the basement gets super warm with the fire and melted wax so his mask would start to deform and straight up melt. Maybe he has a mini fridge down there to keep his masks cool and close if he needs them idk

- if he was born later he would’ve been a massive Percy Jackson fan, he seems to have an interest in mythology/mythological monsters so yeah. Percy Jackson. He’d be in cabin 7 or 9.

- probably sleeps in the basement a lot, it’s the only place he feels completely safe and comfortable. He even sleeps there in the summer, when the combined Louisiana heat and the fire/wax makes the basement feel like a damn sauna. Bo has to go check on him every once in a while to make sure he hasn’t died from heat stroke or something.

- speaking of Bo, I don’t see him as being abusive towards Vincent (I can definitely see why some people interpreted their interactions like that but to me if I had just been shot in the chest and arm with a crossbow and I had to go hunt down some random kids before they called the cops I would also not be in the mood for kind words lol). Bo can definitely be a bitch sometimes, but they do genuinely care for each other. Their relationship is part normal sibling closeness and part trauma bond, but they manage.

- doesn’t care much for his hair, just brushes it sometimes. The Sinclairs definitely have one of those 14in1 shampoo-bodywash-spackle type things, and that’s fine by him. He does brush it a lot tho, that’s something he cares about.

- can cook, but not well. The food he cooks is edible but not much else. Bo does more cooking (he’s slightly better, but only slightly). Vincent puts way too little or no salt at all in his food. I don’t know why. He just likes his food bland and tasteless.

- is somewhat interested in medical stuff. Like it was the only thing him and his father could bond over and he was taught some basics, and has continued to learn to make his art better. If Bo or Lester gets injured he’s the one to take care of it (although Bo would rather bleed out or die from an infection than get any help, Lester has to wrestle him down so that Vincent can patch up his wounds)

- idk I just always thought Jonesy was Vincent’s dog, but sort of also the family dog? Like she can run around and hang out with anyone but she’s technically Vincent’s dog?

- grew up listening to classical music and got kinda Pavlov’d into being more creative when listening to it so now that’s basically all he listens to while working. He will politely listen to Bo’s Marilyn Manson and Nine Inch Nails without complaining, but it’s not his type of music.

- does a lot of different art stuff. Wax sculpting is like his main thing and his job (sorta), but the list of creative endeavors he does in his free time is endless. Has a particular affinity for charcoal drawings. Someone should introduce him to digital art, he would be ecstatic.

[pickingbelovedoffthesofa]

MY CRITICISM ISN’T JUST THAT IZZY DIED. This isn’t because he’s my favorite character. And nobody is wishing they were being handled with kid gloves. Every time I see that take, I want to scream. I can think of LOTS of ways that his death could’ve been handled better. I actually LOVE when my shows and books hurt me. I SEEK OUT media that kills characters I love. Honestly, this show was my break from that. But it’s only good when it makes sense. I’m sorry, but that was weird. Like, really weird. Nobody eulogized him? They didn’t bury him with his leg? He couldn’t think of any reason to go on living because he was just a part of Blackbeard? When Ed called for help, the crew had already written him off as dead despite the fact that this show exists in the universe it exists in and characters have literally been skewered in the same spot and been totally fine? Sacrifice Auntie and Zheng’s weird “soft”thing/reconciliation that felt unearned for the TWO MINUTES that could’ve been better spent paying respect to a major character. I would love more of Auntie and Zheng, but like… let’s be real. The opening with Ed and the fisherman? Cut that down just a smidge. I mean, it wouldn’t have been any more choppy than the rest of the episode turned out. It’s not like we’re just bitching to bitch. I can actively SEE some small ways that it could have been helped. Still wouldn’t have been enough given the constraints but it would’ve been a start.

I don’t know what’s going on on Twitter. I don’t doubt that there are bad actors that are harassing DJ and crew. But those of us screaming in our small corners of the internet are ALLOWED TO HAVE CRITICISMS. It’s almost like some of y’all need to be handled with kid gloves. So scared of hearing anything negative about your precious show. Well, it’s MY precious show, too. It’s okay to admit when things don’t live up to your expectations. It’s okay to move the goalpost, even, and try to be positive when that happens. But it almost feels deceptive to try to convince other people that their criticisms are without merit (especially when some of them are just objective. That shit was RUSHED. The pacing was BAD.)