#there's so much people with much greater skills than me and I feel like I don't have a right to be called simblr

[mostly-imagines]

The Alchemy vol. II

jason todd x fem!reader

aka the progression of your relationship with the red hood

part one

warnings: depictions of blood and injury, standard gotham violence, jason doesn't know how to have feelings, reader is angry, threats against readers life, implied concern of sexual assault

It might be a matter of deficiency in self-preservation skills, how the sound of your window sliding open does nothing to phase you. You don’t know if that’s your fault or his.

“How’s it goin’ down there?” You mumble, not sitting up from your position on the couch.

He pushes the window shut in his wake, huffing. “I am up here for a reason,” he says factually.

You crane your head back just in time to see him tug the red helmet off his head, setting it down on your side table. He has on his under-mask that covers the lower half of his face. You don’t like that one.

He glances around your apartment as he approaches with slow steps. “Why are all the lights off?”

“Forgot to turn ‘em on,” you tell him simply.

He frowns at you, confusion evident.

You pay him no mind though, taking an exaggerated breath and pushing yourself up off the couch before trotting over to the kitchen. You open the fridge and scrummage for a water bottle. Jason thinks it’s odd how long it takes you to find one in your own fridge. 

Once it's (eventually) in your hands, you chug down several gulps and toss the half empty bottle towards the counter where it lands with a sloppy thump and rolls.

When you return, he’s leant against the armrest of your chair, watching you. You stop in the middle of the room, a contemplating stare on the floor. He tilts his head at you, wondering what you could possibly be thinking so hard about.

You take a deep breath before plopping down to lay on the carpet all in one go. 

He peers down at you, barely trying to hide his amusement. “You’re drunk.”

You shake your head, “I’m not sober.”

“That’s—yeah.” He stands all the way, coming to lay down on the floor next to you, using significantly more coordination than you had.

He lays in between you and the couch, though it doesn’t seem you’d left him much room. If he minds, it doesn’t show. “What’d you do?”

“I jus’ went out with my friend,” you tell him, closing your eyes. “She moves pretty fast..”

It occurs to him that you might be laying on the ground because you got nauseous. He turns to look at you, scanning you over. “You good?”

“I feel great,” you keen. “I feel…swooshy.”

He gives you a bemused look. “Dizzy?”

You shake your head with a great deal of consideration on your face, “No, not even dizzy, just…swoosh.” You throw out a hand with a theatrical flick.

“Mhm.”

You pucker your lips to the side. “You come here a lot,” you comment, clearly working up to some greater observation.

“You’re in my neighborhood,” he shrugs. 

Your head tilts, “You live here?”

He pauses before correcting himself, “My territory.”

You hum, “Still. There has to be other people around here you know. ‘Specially if you’re passing out on balconies on the reg.”

He frowns, “I try not to make a habit out of it.”

You continue on, “Why do you always go to my apartment? There’s—”

“I don’t always come to your apartment—”

You deadpan, “You’re here like three nights a week. And I don’t even help you that much anymore, you’ve used up my whole first aid kit.”

You can literally feel the eyeroll like you have a sixth sense for it. “That thing wasn’t exactly impressive to start with..”

“Did enough for you, didn’t it? Anyways, my point is: I think you like me,” you say with a nod.

That has him going absolutely rigid, “What?”

“I’ve heard you’re an asshole.”

“What?”

You nod, “Like, people that run into you. They say you’re kind of a dick. You help ‘em ‘n everything, but also while being a dick. Sometimes.”

“Okay...”

“But you’re nice to me. Sort of,” you squint. “I think you like me.”

He hasn’t felt this straggled in a conversation in a while. “I—well I’m not here because you’re a world-class medic.”

You scoff, “There’s no world-class medics..” But then your tone switches up, into something lighter. “We’re friends aren’t we? I think we’re friends.” 

He shakes his head, staring up blankly. “Sure, we’re friends.”

“We’re friends and you like me,” you reiterate.

He really wishes you’d stop saying that. “Okay.”

“I like you too. Even though you’re kinda sketchy.”

He doesn’t know what to say to that.

You hum into the silence, looking up at the ceiling. “J…James, Jack, John…”

He smiles, gaze dancing across the egg-whitened popcorn texture of the ceiling. “I’m not going to tell you.”

You ignore him, “Jake, Jaden, Jason, Josh, Joe, Jesse…”

You’re about three shots too drunk to notice the way he briefly stiffens. 

“Juuhhh…” you lull your head to the side, the letter fading out slowly as you look into his eyes. If you focus, you think you can make out a few of those little specks of green again.

He seems to already be running his own study on your irises, his eyes now softer than you can remember seeing them before. 

His next words are whispered, the sounds barely escaping. “You’re pretty.”

What?

“What?”

“What?” He seems taken aback by his own words, like he also wasn’t expecting them to climb out of his mouth.

You can literally feel sobriety seeping back into your blood. “I’m…pretty?”

He blinks a few times, apparently trying hard to decide on what position he’s going to take here. “I—well…yeah.”

You blink once, relaxing. “I think…I think you’re pretty too.”

“What?”

“We can’t do this again.”

He breaks eye contact, looking almost dejected.

You turn your head down to where his hand thrums against the carpet. “I mean, I know I haven’t seen your whole face in one go, but I see the top half now and the bottom before, so I…maybe I shouldn’t be saying this.” You reset with a shallow breath, “I don’t know what your whole face looks like.”

“That was,” he blinks, eyebrows raised. “Fascinating.”

“Thanks,” you say flatly. You close your eyes again, though this time you remain facing him.

He feels a slight pang of guilt for the way he continues to ogle at you, eyes tracing over every detail of your face. But that ounce of guilt does nothing to outweigh the reward of gazing upon you. He didn’t mean to say it but he definitely meant it: you’re really fucking pretty.

Your eyelashes flutter for a moment before stilling, a display of peace washing over your features. It’s when your breathing steadies over and your face relaxes completely is when he starts to feel like a creep. It takes a lot of strength for him to force his eyes shut, depriving himself of the view.

And he doesn’t do it on purpose, but after a few moments his inhales and exhales take to the same rhythm of yours. The thin layer of the rug isn’t doing much to protect his back from the hardwood below and he’s pretty confident later he’ll curse himself for lying like this for so long. 

But as he lays, he doesn’t find himself focused on the dark red-gray of his eyelids like usual, so much as the warmth from the proximity of your bodies. He’s usually so concentrated on whatever the hell is going on in his head and it prevents him from really truly resting, but now, the only thing taking up his attention is physical sensations.

He feels this warmth in his heart that if he didn’t know any better, he’d call burning. His hands feel numb and he can distinctly feel the beat of his own heart in his chest, thrumming away.

He presses his lips to your forehead with a feather light touch, slow to pull away. He doesn’t make it all the way back to his original position before his movement lulls and his body relaxes again, joining you gladly in unconsciousness.

Gotham City has a particular gift for inconveniencing you at the worst possible moment and doing it multiple times a week.

Tonight's round of problems resulted in an entire city district getting shut down, the district which is regrettably right between your job and your apartment.

So on top of having to hole up into your work for two hours longer than you were supposed to, it took you an extra 45 minutes getting home while trying to maneuver around every other person in the same situation. And just to cement the quality of this night, the door to your apartment building slams nice and hard against your side and the light in the hallway is out.

You groan when you fail to get your key the lock the right way for the third time, lodging it in a final time and shoving the door open. You flick on the kitchen light and dump your bag onto the counter, kicking the door shut behind you.

You take a deep breath, eyes closed, as you lean your head back against the wall. The second you crack your eyes open again, a pile of red mass on the floor behind your couch catches your attention and startles some energy right back into your chest.

“Oh, shit,” you scurry over towards the window, crumbling down onto your knees in front of him. Your eyes dart across the red helmet, trying to makeout any signs of consciousness. “Hood?” 

There’s no response from him, no movement. You tug his helmet off, finding him eyes-closed with blood running down the side of his head. You push a hand down on his chest armor, shaking him. “J? J!”

His eyes flutter open slowly under his domino mask, adjusting to the light. With the disorientation on his face he looks younger, more his age. His hair is tousled up and you can make out some distinct curls in it when it's undone like this. 

He grimaces, gloved hand coming up to his head. He looks wearily at the blood on his fingers, before plopping his hand back down and blinking up at you. “Hey..”

You sit back on your heels with a sigh, “What the fuck?”

He makes a strained effort to sit up on his own so you try to heave him up by his forearm. As he comes up all the way you glance behind his back at a bag crumpled discarded on the floor. You can barely see some sort of fabric poking out the top. “What is that?”

“Huh?” He throws back a tired glance, “Oh. They're..curtains.”

“Explain.”

He looks at you blankly, “You don’t have any curtains.”

You blink. “Explain.”

“It’s dangerous for people to just be able to look in and see you. So. Curtains.” For a guy who reads Dostoevsky, he’s not much of a wordsmith. Though that could be the concussion. 

You reach around him and pull some of the fabric out of the bag, inspecting the linen. They match the theme of your living room.

You set it back down, blinking. “Thanks.”

He only gives a half-hearted shrug.

You look back at him, “How bad is the…?” You gesture to the side of your head.

He feels at the blood again, “It’s mostly just a cut. Shoulda stopped bleeding by now.”

You nod, “I’ll, uh—I’ll clean it up.”

He looks at you, shaking his head. “You don’t need to. Your kit’s almost empty anyways.”

“I restocked it,” you tell him, rising to stand. He lets you go retrieve your aid box without protest, listening blankly to the faucet run in the bathroom while you’re gone.

You return momentarily, damp rag in one hand, kit in the other. “Here, sit on the couch,” you tell him, nodding him up. 

He lugs himself up off the hardwood and onto the cushion with a groan. You position yourself on the cushion next to him, leaning over to inspect the cut. You brush through his hair as gently as you can, though you have to suspect he wouldn’t have minded either way—if only based on the pain threshold you know him to have.

As much as you are completely in his space, you’re having trouble getting all the access you need to fix him up right. You turn and adjust your angle this way and that but none of it works. 

You huff, sitting back. “I can’t..”

He nods his permission at you without delay, and you shift yourself over to sit fully on his lap, straddling him on the sofa. You put your focus into cleaning his wound, but you have to notice how deep he’s breathing and how he’s seemingly trying very hard to avoid eye contact. You’re sure your own breath is uneven and telling, and frankly you’re kind of hoping he has a concussion just so he might not notice it.

An unexpected sting has him flinching and grabbing your hips on instinct, a certain heaviness lingering in the air after contact. His hand tenses and he’s about to remove them from you completely when you manage to catch his gaze, and the few moments of silent eye contact are enough to convince him to stay. He forces his hands to relax against your waist, his fix on your face wavering before fizzling away completely.

You go back to dabbing at the blood and it’s clear that his thoughts get the better of him quickly. “You should move.”

“But then where would you go?”

He makes a rumbling noise from the back of his throat at that, saying nothing more.

You continue to wipe away at the blood until you can’t see it anymore, beyond the slice of the cut. You misjudge your own spatial awareness as you pull back from him, and the tips of your noses graze. Though the contact surprises you, you don’t move away from it. You become very acutely aware of his touch on your waist, how warm it feels atop your shirt. 

His head leans forward just barely before stopping. He retreats slightly and his body ultimately decides to come closer. He doesn’t stop until his lips, slightly parted, skim across yours.

Your breath catches as he looms nearer, lips touching against yours softly. He tests that pressure out for a moment, before moving to kissing you with more intent. You kiss him back, and though there’s an increasing resolve on both of your parts, the connection itself remains gentle, reposeful.

The last slight movement of his lips gradually slips away as he rests his forehead against yours.

A long beat passes before he’s tightening his grip on your waist and pulling you up to stand. You aren’t given the time to process the shift as he’s moving straight past you, head down. He pauses only when he gets to the window, back turned to you.

“Sorry—I’m…” his shoulders drop, “Sorry.” 

He climbs out and scales the fire escape in total silence until he’s gone completely.

You stand frozen in position, staring at the window with incredulity burning across your face.

What the fuck?

Two weeks pass of voided midnight visits. 

You’re not sure what to make of that. He kissed you, not the other way around. You couldn’t possibly have done something to upset him or throw him off since he’s the only one who did anything. All in all, it’s a little disappointing.

There had been tension there and it wasn’t shocking for you to learn that he wanted to kiss you. It was a bit of a surprise for him to actually do it, though not a bad one. But you were thrown for a grand fucking loop when he immediately bailed out.

Maybe you can’t read him as well as you think because you’d expected him to at least say something about it. It was a borderline given that he would come back and there would be a bonus surplus of tension but then there would be a resolution. Because he wouldn’t kiss you and then never come back. Nobody would do that, it doesn’t make sense.

It’s a little more than embarrassing to admit that you’ve been purposefully staying home in the hope that he’ll drop in. After fifteen nights of disappointment, you decided to put your focus elsewhere.

You’d asked a friend of yours to go out with you tonight, and never one to decline a night out, she agreed happily. 

The bell above the door jingles as you crack it open, peaking your head in. You find Chloe quickly, stood behind the bar with bottles in hand.

“Hey gorgeous,” she smiles at you, waving you in.

You step in, air conditioning hitting you hard. The sparkles on her cocktail dress catch your eye as she turns this way and that, trying to find the right spot for the whiskey. 

Chloe hums to herself as she searches, honestly taking a bit longer than she should. “You been cool?”

You nod, “Yeah, just—you know…” She doesn’t. Your affiliation with the Red Hood is something you’ve kept to yourself, though you don’t know why. It would be safer, more responsible to let someone else know about these drop-ins, but something about it feels personal. A strange feeling to tack onto it, you think. A regrettable one, at least. 

You take a deep breath, “You’ve been busy. Jessie call out again?”

She laughs dryly, “Oh yeah, of course. But it's fine, I love staying over an hour after close.” She sighs, “I’m almost done anyway.”

You circle around the bar, looking over the several yet-to-be-sorted bottles. “You need help?”

“No, there’s—” she cuts herself off as she looks over at the front door, face dropping. “Oh, shit. Duck.”

“Wha—” she yanks you down to the floor to crouch awkwardly behind the counter.

You hear the bell ring as the door swings open, followed by several pairs of footsteps and low voices.

“—Christ, if she forgets to lock the door one more fucking time I’m gonna kill her.”

You look at Chloe through furrowed eyebrows, her grip on you still tight. She shakes her head and puts a finger to her lips.

A second man mutters something you can’t make out.

The first voice continues, “Go around back and lug the crates in, we gotta start packing that shit.” 

Another voice, “The crates? They’re not here..”

There’s a heavy beat before the first voice speaks, “What the fuck do you mean they’re not here? She needs them now.”

“Well…the first shipments will be in later this week. The next batch’ll take until the end of the month, probably.”

A sigh, “Dumbass…”

The first voice huffs, “The end of the month? Are you fucking kidding me? I told you to get that shit ready weeks ago and you’ve got it coming in at the end of the month?” 

“I’ll…I’ll see what I can do to get it sooner.”

“Yeah, you do that,” he grumbles. “Motherfucker. I need a drink. Get a bottle of something.”

One of the men rounds the counter, tracks falling short at the sight of you and Chloe huddled against the counter.

“What the fuck?”

You and Chloe are wide-eyed and frozen as he sneers down at you. Still, he looks like he’s trying to be tougher than he is, compensating for size that he does not have, with an attitude that doesn’t match up with the way he sped around the counter to get the other man a drink.

Another guy comes around and you quickly recognize him as the man in charge. He frowns at Chloe, sighing, “You’re not supposed to be here still, Chloe.”

She shifts her weight, “I was just…finishing inventory…”

The bossman’s eyes move to you, laced with nothing but inconvenience. “Oh and you brought a friend. Great.” 

“Mr. Murray, we were just ab—”

He’s quick to cut her off with a hand, “Chloe. Stop talking.”

Her face falls flat and her words die off without hesitation.

“Get up.”

She’s pushing herself off the ground instantly while you’re still on the floor catching up with what the hell’s going on. As she moves out from behind the bar, you scurry to follow her. Your arm bumps against hers as you fiddle with the seams at the bottom of your outfit.

You dressed to go out with your friend on a Friday night, not to meet three mobsters in a closed bar with no witnesses. That’s to say, you’re feeling a little exposed.

You stand in the center of the bar, the three men looking various degrees of annoyed looks across their faces. Though the oldest looking of the bunch has something else in his eyes as he looks you up and down, in no rush to hide his engrossment in your bare legs.

“How old are you, honey?” Even without the blatant ogling, that’s never a good question to hear from a fifty year old man.

Your eyes avert to the floor, lips pursing. 

“Hey, don’t be rude. I asked you a question.” He nudges your chin up a bit rougher than necessary, forcing you to look him in the eyes. 

Somehow, you feel like there’s no answer here that would help you. 

The man at the bar serves as an unexpected saving grace of sorts, muttering, “We don’t have time for this.”

Your pursuer shakes his head, looking you over in a way that makes you feel very small. “I think we got plenty of time.”

“I disagree.”

All heads whip to the doorway where the Red Hood leans against the frame, checking his phone. A never invited but always welcome addition to the party. At least for you.

The man in front of you instantly steps back, putting some distance between the two of you. Hands across the room instinctively fly to holsters only to begrudgingly relax at their sides, probably figuring drawing on Red Hood isn’t in their best interest. Though your focus lies on the bell above his head that didn’t make a peep whenever he came in.

Hood shuts his phone off and puts it away with a quiet sigh before glancing up at the tension-filled room. He literally double takes when his helmet scans past you. You somehow feel more in trouble now than you did two minutes ago. 

“Hood..” the bossman says measuredly. “What are you doing here?”

He stares at you for a second longer before tearing his gaze away. “Just thought I’d check up on you, Murray. Make sure you’re not causing trouble in light of our agreement.” He makes a point of looking back at you and Chloe at that last part before looking to Murray expectantly.

He waves that off easily, “This is nothing. Just two late-shift employees.”

Hood takes a piqued breath. “You picked a bad time to lie to me,” he says flatly.

Murray shakes his head, “Look, we’re just cleaning up a mess. No harm.”

“Really?”

“This clean up benefits you too, they heard too much. The one girl—Chloe, get out. She’s fine, she’s not talking.”

Chloe wastes no time exiting hastily. Bye Chloe.

He continues, “We only need to kill one of them.” He says it like this is an ideal compromise. You’re feeling differently.

Hood huffs, pulling out a gun from his holster. “I’m thinking it’s implied that killing innocent people is a form of causing trouble. Which is in direct violation of our agreement.” He cocks the gun, pointing it at Murray’s head.

Murray steps back dramatically, throwing his hands up. “Hey, an alliance is an alliance!”

Hood wavers his head to the side, “Alliance is a strong word. Temporary tolerance maybe…”

The short man pipes up, “Okay, calm down, calm down. Nobody needs to get killed. We can cooperate.”

“That’s the spirit,” Hood quips, lowering his gun.

The older one shakes his head, “We don’t have anything on her, she’ll talk.”

The short man demurs, “We don’t know that—”

“She saw too much, we can’t have her walking around with that information,” Murray says, moving towards you. 

Hood puts his hands up like some kind of mediator, “Nobody’s killing anybody.”

Murray scoffs, “You were gonna kill me!”

Hood's hands drop as he stands in full, “And I still might!”

Boldly, Murray steps up to him.

But Hood looks down at him, easily a full head taller than him and at least twice his muscle mass. “Let's weigh out your odds here, Murray. Is that a fight you’re winning?”

The look on Murray’s face tells you it’s not and he struggles to maintain this chest to chest confrontation.

It only takes him a moment of wavering to decide to back off, though he sure as hell doesn’t look happy about it. 

Hood pushes past him, grabbing you by the arm and pulling you towards him. 

Murray splutters, watching you go. “You can’t—I-I know people.”

“I am people,” Hood grumbles, steering you towards the door.

Though you can be sure they have them, no one voices any objections aa he pulls you outside.

His stride doesn’t even falter as he marches you down the sidewalk in the direction of your apartment. Aside from the sound of the breeze wisping past your ears, it’s silent between you.

After two blocks you get the strong impression that this muted exchange of energy is just going to keep on, so you force yourself to find something to rattle off about. “That uh, that seems like something he’s gonna be mad about.”

He huffs, “Yeah, well he can get over it or die so I guess it’s a personal choice.”

You frown at his tone, “What’s your problem?”

That was, apparently, the wrong thing to say as his head snaps in your direction. “Why the hell are you out here?”

His sharp attitude has you stumbling a bit. “Why are you out here? You have a concussion.”

“I don’t have a concussion,” he grumbles. “And I just saved your life so maybe complaining about it isn’t your best move right now.”

You try to stop and face him but he doesn’t let you, keeping you moving along with him. “That’s what we’re doing? Really?” 

Are these about the social skills that you had expected from him based on your first meeting? Yeah. But that first meeting was months ago. He’s proven again and again that he has half a brain and the ability to read a room so you’re really not fucking sure what the hell his problem is. He won’t acknowledge that he kissed you and all but jumped out your living room window, but he will snap at you for asking about his concussion that there’s no way he doesn’t have. Especially if he’s acting like this. 

He ignores your comment, blatantly at that. “Did they say anything about a drug shipment?”

This is what we’re talking about? Sure. Fine. At least you’re talking. 

You open your mouth briefly before closing it again, eyes narrowed. “I don’t know.”

He tries again, “What about Nocturna? Did you hear that name?”

“I…I don’t know.” You weren’t exactly taking notes behind the bar counter. 

His head drops down heavily, “Okay, I think I’m seeing a trend for how this conversation’s gonna go...”

You gawk at him, astonished that he thinks it’s you who’s handling this discussion poorly. “You cannot be serious right now.”

He sighs, slowing as you approach the steps to your building, “Just—why’d they let Chloe go?”

You blink a few times, “I mean, she has a drug problem…” You guess that might be where she’s getting them from…

He nods solemnly, “Okay.”

You huff, turning to walk up the steps, shoulders heavy. You hope he’ll come up with you and maybe, just maybe, address the elephant in the room. 

“Are you—” you turn around to face him again, met with nothing but vacant air. 

A deep, tense, breath from you before calling out, “Really?”

One month. One month. And he decides to show up tonight like it’s no time lost. But there was some fucking time lost.

Count ‘em up, that’s one period, two paychecks, three grocery trips, four laundry days, and thirteen showers. And that stupid fucking vigilante ransacked your head during every single one.

You went through the five stages of grief for this bizarre, undefinable relationship and then discovered about six more while you were at it. 

So when you walk out from the bathroom, you’re a little pissed to see him sitting there on your living room floor, helping himself to a glass of water. 

Maybe it’s his domino mask that gives his expression the illusion of neutrality. Or maybe he really has no idea how insane it is that he would occupy your apartment like this after skipping out on you for an entire lunar cycle.

He leans against your armchair, inspecting a scratch on his lower arm. You enter silently, watching him the whole time as you make your way over to the far end of the couch.

He doesn’t look up at you though, not until after a minute or two of silence. 

“You got any bandages left?” he asks, throwing a glance over his shoulder. 

You stare at him incredulously. 

After ten seconds with no response from you, he turns around fully, frowning. “What?”

“Are you kidding me?”

“I—” he squints, eyes flickering across your face. “No?”

You continue to gawk at him, not trying for any words.

He stares back, eyes wide. “I don’t know what you want me to say...”

You tear your gaze from him, preferring to stare at the wall. “You know what, I think I know what your problem is.”

He gives a laugh with little life to it. “I only have one?”

You bite down on your lip, “You only have one I’m ready to kill you over.”

He sits with that for a minute. A long minute, before asking softly, “What is it?”

You shake your head, glaring at an unoccupied nail in the wall. “That you’re an idiot,” you mutter. You start to walk away  before turning around again after a few steps. “Where the hell have you been?”

He blinks, “Uh, there’s just been a lot of—”

“Bullshit.”

He’s about to argue his point, but quickly decides to concede, “Yeah.” He takes a deep breath, sitting back. “I…wasn’t prepared for this conversation,” he says carefully.

You scoff with a nod, “Yeah, neither was I, but it’s happening. I m—what did you think was going to happen here? I—you kissed me, you kissed me!”

“No I—” he huffs, “I shouldn’t have done that, okay?”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

He sighs, throwing his hands up at his sides. “What do you want me to say?”

You shrug without genuinity, “Anything that could possibly rationalize that sequence of decisions. You kiss me, run away, ghost me for a fucking month, and then show up again like nothing happened.”

He shuts his eyes, shaking his head. “I know, I know, I’m sorry!”

“I’m not asking you to be sorry, I’m asking you to pick a fucking lane and stick to it!”

He falls silent at that, eyes on the floor. It’s quiet for long enough that you start to think he’ll accept the silence as his cue to leave. You’re not sure if you want him to or not.

You take a deep breath, eyes closed. “I need you to start being straight with me. Now.”

He doesn’t look up, taking his time to find his words. “I am sorry,” he tells you. “I…I’m not good at this. I’m not good with words so I shouldn’t have fucking done it.”

Honestly you weren’t expecting him to actually come up with a reason, so you’re not prepared to weigh out whether or not it’s a good one.

“I like you...a lot. And I didn’t know—I don’t know—what to do about it so I kissed you and I didn’t think it through, and…I guess I panicked.”

That’s more than enough for you to warrant looking back over at him. It doesn’t take long for your gaze to start shifting around awkwardly while you scratch at your neck. “I would’ve taken you for more of a fight over flight kinda guy.”

He nods to himself. “Jus’ depends..” he says quietly.

And then it seems neither of you have anything else to say. You’ve run out of angry words to spit and he’s run out of apologies and excuses. But neither of you feel like you’re done.

The quiet lingers on for a painful amount of time. Your annoyance dissipates into something else, something more uncomfortable, but you couldn’t find a name for it. It’s got your thoughts going faster though and your chest feeling more hollow. Maybe not hollow…maybe just softer. 

He cuts through your thoughts before you can, “Are you mad that I kissed you?”

You shake your head, “No. I’m mad about what happened after.” You’re just mad about what happened after. Should’ve said just.

He thinks about that for a moment. 

“I can be honest with you,” he tells you. The way he says it, it’s somewhere between a peace offering and an assurance to himself.

You look at him again. He reads oddly vulnerable for a man his size with his reputation. You believe him. 

He goes on, “I trust you, you know? I want you to trust me too, if you can.”

You blink a few times, processing. “I…I don’t know anything about you.”

He nods, an anxious aura radiating around him. He leaves you hanging for longer than a few moments, getting you convinced that the conversation is just going to end there.

It doesn’t though, and after a few minutes, he sits up and reaches up to his mask.

It has you sitting up too, like he just pulled out a gun. Your hands fly up instinctually, as though this is completely uncalled for, as if he’s crazy for doing it.

He pauses his movements for a moment, making eye contact with you. His eyes reaffirm his words. He trusts you and he wants you to trust him.

You allow your hands to relax onto your lap and he continues on, taking his mask off.

You’re not revealed to much more of his face than you’d already seen before, but entirely in view like this, he’s a sight. You try not to stare but there’s little reward to removing him from your sight whereas the alternative…

All together like this you can see how his features balance his face out so nicely and make for a warm countenance, if not rough.

He takes a deep breath, setting his mask to the side. “My name is J…” he says with assurance. “Todd,” he tacks on.

You don’t mean to, really, but you’re sure the frown on your face is evident as puzzle pieces start forming and connecting in your mind. 

J…Todd…J…Jay…Todd…Jason…Todd…

Your mouth hangs open, “You’re Jason Todd. You’re de—” Well a couple things are starting to add up. “How are you…how are you not—”

He waves that away, tiredly. “It's a long story. Not particularly happy, either.”

Autopsy scar. Fuck. 

“I mean, I’ll…” he hesitates, “I’ll tell you if you want me to.”

He says it, but discomfort is painted across his face. You’re quick to shake your head, “It’s okay.”

He nods, likely relieved.

You stand up from your seat, crossing the room to sit down next to him. You’d half-expected him to tense up, but his body relaxes when you lean back against the chair.

You close your eyes before asking, “Who’s Nocturna?”

“She’s just this woman that’s been causing trouble for us.”

You don’t say anything and he continues on, shaking his head. “She’s more annoying than anything.”

You open your eyes, looking over. “Yeah?”

He shrugs, “Just trying to take over the underworld, the usual stuff. Nothing you need to worry about.”

You give a laugh that’s barely more than an exhale, relaxing your body completely..

There’s the slightest lull in activity before he sets his hand down on the floor, right on top of yours. The sounds of your breathing are the only thing that fill the room for a few minutes, save for the occasional car horn.

He glances at the clock on the wall, nearing midnight. “I have to go...” He says reluctantly.

You try not to let the disappointment show through your body language. “Go where?”

He pauses before telling you,  “A cemetery.”

You nod vacantly, “Oh. Just for fun, or…?”

He gives a dry laugh, “Just meeting an associate. They’re a bit dramatic, so.”

“Yeah, I’d say.”

“I’ll come back—I’m going to come back,” he mutters against your hairline.

You don’t respond, but you both know he’s good for his promise.

He looks around your apartment for a second before seemingly getting an idea. He pushes himself up off the ground and heads for your kitchen. You watch as he rips a sticky note off the deck on your fridge and scribbles something down on it. 

He returns to you, kneeling down and pushing the square of paper into your hand. “Here,” he says, looking you in the eye. “If you need anything. Anything.”

You engulf the note in your palm, nodding sincerely. His eyes flicker across your face, like he’s thinking about something. He hesitates for a moment, turning towards you, away from you, then towards you again. He holds the back of your head tenderly before pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead.

You look at each other up close for a second with nothing short of starry eyes before he turns away and ducks out the window.

You open up your palm and look down at the paper, at the ten digits scrawled across it.

Huh.

Must be official. 

🧨 reblog or die (this is a threat) 🧨

[boowritess]

notsobaddasssoldier!reader who is kinda a cunt

reader who just doesn't give a shit about the 141 rank or title.

"you think just cause your captain of some lil task force i'm gonna bend over backwards for you? be serious."

"cool you're lieutenant...and.... anything else interesting? like how you think halloween is 24/7, or...?"

"oh so it's a big accomplishment you're sergeant at your big age? tell someone who cares."

you're just so... eh about their ranks. but they get some power trip when you call them said rank. makes them feel some sort of way that depsite your snark, you still call them by rank. showing the clear difference of inferiority and superiority between you and them.

till you notice and shut that shet down.

"your so fucking stupid. it's like if i met The Pope. I'm gonna call him Pope because he's The Pope. I still don't give a shit though."

"or like meeting a Doctor and calling them Doctor. I don't give a fuck that the persons a Doctor. I'll still call em it."

"better yet. hate the king. hate the queen. but i still call them the queen and king. because their dumbassary is just linked to their 'ranks'. if you keep annoying me the same is gonna go for you."

you have so much sass and snark that it becomes a truly humbling experience. and it's like - damn. they could put you over their knee and really put you in your place but reader takes things from 0-100 real fucking quick.

"you wanna what you fucking freak?"

"excuse me-?"

"you're so fucking dumb. get a braincell dumb bitch. do it and fucking find out what happens."

"shot me in the head and watch my corpse not give a fuck because I don't."

and when the guys get a lil too fucking serious about putting reader in their place. reader suddenly has a gun pointed at their face. you see what I mean by taking things to 0-100 real quick?

"dummy. really tryna fuck with me when we're surrounded by guns? fuck outta here with that bullshit."

"matter fact I'd just kill myself-"

"NO!" *141*

it's obvious you may be young and perhaps a little too mouthy for your own good but it's clear you're not going to be pushed around.

but it's obvious you ain't here for the 'greater good' and just doing the work to get the paycheck. while the guys find your snark to be really fucking annoying.

it turns out that you definitely have some perks.

you may not be able to hold yourself very long in battle, just a very basic solider with basic skill sets- your mouth and attitude can really work wonders on people.

in particular, the egotistical rookie who things they're all that. taking their sweet time with basic tasks, belittling other recruits who can do the bare minimum. just in general, an asshole. that's when you step in.

"you ain't shit bitch cause at the end of the fucking day turdface, you ain't bullet proof. i can shoot you right now, and all your running and yapping will cease to exist. your corspe will rot. people will stop knowing you as the loudmouth rookie, and you will just become nothing. infact. you are nothing."

*the recruit opens their mouth. you interrupt.*

"Nothing."

*recruit tries again.*

"Nothing."

it's an endless cycle that ceases when your hardened glare doesn't stop and you pick up a rock intending to throw it at the recruit. the blank, dead, serious look in your eyes showing you are more than fucking serious.

what really works wonders though, is they way you aren't worried about putting a superior in their place. the other 141 have basically been beaten in and to not question anything. they have been made to believe they are weapons more than human.

that gets shut down real quick.

you all have just come back from mission, that was grueling. a couple of you were injured. everyone looked worse for wear. dirts, scratches, blood. someone no longer had their vest. a few lost weapons. barely had any inventory. needing food, sleep, and then a long shower shower.

but instead waiting for the task force, was a superior officer, holding the next mission file. a mission they were supposed to be getting ready for and practically leave as soon as they got back.

before price could grab for it, you intercept. grabbing the mission file and throwing it at the superior officers face.

"you giant fucking anal peice of dried solid dog shit. we're not fucking doing that. we just got back from hiding in a fucking forest for three weeks with enemy surrounding us to get intel from a camp- THAT WASN'T FUCKING THERE. so you better turn and take those pretty polished shoes to another task force."

"what is your name, soldier?" *superior officer growls.*

"Dolly Parton. Now Dolly has just worked longer than a nine to five and Dolly ain't got the patience for dealing with a man like you. i got two bullets left. one for you and one for me. and if you think i won't do it- well we can put it to the test now-"

perhaps it was the utter dead look in your eyes, or the gentle yet seething venom in your tone. the superior officer simply growls and turns on their feet, leaving the task force.

it's funny cause you do get the respect, you are barely a good soldier but dang you can get shit done when need be. so price doesn't transfer you. he still keeps you close.

ghost is the one who loves the feral little shit you are. gaz and you talk mad shit about everyone on base. soap just absolutely adores you, you're the little sibling he's always wanted.

a/n: inspired by the feral nature of gen z.

[ponderingmoonlight]

JJK men after hurting (y/n)

Pairing: Choso x reader; Gojo x reader

Word Count: 4,7k (Gojo's part is huge)

Warnings: this is drama over drama so be prepared, injury in Choso's part, mentioned pregnancy and breakup in Gojo's part, also Geto is an a-hole in here and it isn't 100% accurate to the original story-timeline, it's getting veeeery heated my lovelys, but also comfort but mostly hurt

As usual, I am very thankful for every little like, comment or reblog (thank you anon hehe). Let me know what you think of this, I literally poured my heart and soul into these two parts <3

Tags: @sanicsmut I just know you'll like this girl, @chilichopsticks

Choso Kamo

„(y/n), this is nothing I will discuss with you right now. Just stay here.”

“I can’t let you kill him, this isn’t right. His death won’t bring back your brothers!”, you shout urgently, hands desperately trying to keep him from walking away.

“I always appreciate your opinion and support. But this is something I have to do for myself. Don’t get in the way.”

With one last glance back he’s gone, lost in the neon signs around you, shadow immerged into darkness.

Your brain goes into panic mode immediately, palms sweaty just by the thought of him haunting that boy down. How strange it is that you are able to call Choso your boyfriend. Choso Kamo, a reincarnated curse that is over 150 years old. Choso Kamo, who seems cold-hearted to people when he first meets them. Choso Kamo, who loves his family more than anything else.

You know this isn’t him, that killing Yuji Itadori is nothing but an act of revenge for him that he hopes will make him feel better.

“But how does killing someone else solve your problems?”

He never answered this question. He didn’t have to, given the fact that he just stared at you with furious eyes. You know all too well how it broke him to lose his brothers through the hands of some random jujutsu sorcerers. Fuck, you were just as heartbroken as he was. But if revenge is the only solution, wouldn’t this little game go on to infinity?

This isn’t the way, this isn’t the man you love. And you won’t let him go berserk only to regret what he did later on.

There is only one thing you can you now.

Your feet start moving on their own, following his shadow through the dark hallways of Shibuya’s train station. You aren’t a very gifted jujutsu sorcerer, maybe a grade 2 in sorcerer terms. But maybe your presence will be enough to stop him. Maybe his love is greater than the hatred he carries in his heart for that Idadori boy.

After all, it is a miracle in itself that he really loves you, a human being. Instead of killing you right on the spot he decided to safe you and even take care of your multiple wounds back then when you first met. You are not only hopelessly in love with him, but owe him his life. It’s time for you to give something back.

The only thing that echoes through the hallways are your very own rapid steps and sharp breaths. Please let him be okay, please let him still search for that boy. Your forehead glisters in sweat, the area only illuminated by the changing neon signs.

Finally a sound. You stop in your tracks immediately and close your eyes while holding your breath. It’s far away, but those are steps and dampened rumbling. It has to be him. And he’s definitely not alone. 

You can’t waste any time. As fast as your shaky legs carry you, you run down the hallway, eyes roaming around to catch a glimpse of his dark messy hair. Did he found Yuji Itadori? From what you’ve heard, Sukuna’s vessel is a quite skilled jujutsu sorcerer himself. But despite that, you know how much power Choso holds. If they meet, there will definitely be a fierce fight and your boyfriend might get hurt in the process.

But Yuji gets killed.

Suddenly water starts to soak into your shoes, pooling the surrounding area entirely. You furrow your brows. Where the hell is that coming from? Aren’t you underground? And also, it wasn’t raining outside…

Instinctively you follow the stream, noises growing louder and louder. Your heartbeat picks up, eyes wide open in realization. They have to be in there, in that toilet. The only think you are able to do is run. Water splashes around you, completely taking your already dimmed sight under the purple neon lights.

Until you see your boyfriend. Bending over the severely injured body of what looks like Yuji Itadori, fist ready to hit him with his last shot.

You don’t know what has gotten into you. Before you are able to even think about a plan you sprint forward and shield the boy’s body with your own.

Only to get hit in your stomach with full force by your own boyfriend.

For a moment you forget how to breathe, the only sound being the constant ringing in your ears along with a silent cough. Are you dead? You can’t tell with your sight completely turned black and your empty head.

“(y/n)”, is all Choso is able to breathe out.

It happened so fast he couldn’t react anymore. Within the split of a second, he was only able to direct his fist away from your head into your stomach.

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

A trail of blood escapes your lips along with a cough, gaze completely empty. Did he kill you? His guts turn, he feels like fainting away. Oh god, what did he do?

“(y/n).”

You shouldn’t even be here in the first place. He told you to stay out of this, to leave this to him. Why on earth did you throw yourself in front of Yuji Itadori? How could you risk your life so reckless?

“(y/n)?”

You don’t react, glossy eyes wide open, directed into darkness. His shaky hands pull up your shirt, revealing a huge bruise. He broke a few of your ribs, that’s for sure.

“(y/n)!”, he begs again, repeating your name over and over like a prayer.

His hands grab your body and pull you away from Itadori while all he can do is kneeling next to you. Are you even breathing? Fuck, you are so cold and completely soaked in water that still pours down without mercy.

“(y/n)…”

His hand caresses your cheek gently. You just have to wake up. This is a bad dream, right? He didn’t just punch you with full force, he isn’t responsible for you laying here with broken bones and bruises. No, he didn’t just hurt the love of his life, his precious girlfriend.

Are those tears running down his cheeks? He can’t tell. The water pouring down on him makes it hard to see.

“Don’t…kill…him…”, you suddenly mumble.

Choso feels like flying and dying at the same time, relieved by hearing your voice while being absolutely crushed be the fact that he is responsible for your poor state.

“Why did you throw yourself in front of him, (y/n)? I never wanted to hurt you. I would have never hurt you…”, he stutters, pressing your upper body against his.

You cough violently, feeling as if your spilling your guts out every second. God, you feel terrible. If you move a single inch you’ll faint away into darkness.

But despite the pain that rolls over you like a tsunami, you force your eyes to look at him? His beautiful screwed up face, his glistening eyes. Is he crying? This might be the first time you’ve ever seen him like this.

“I know you didn’t wanted to hurt me. Did you kill him?”

Your voice isn’t more than a fade away whisper, almost too distant to get under the pouring water. But the second your words reach his ears, Choso can’t hold back any longer.

He’s crumbling in front of you like a piece of paper, hands holding onto you for dear life.

Choso almost killed you. The love of his life, the only thing that’s worth living. And for what? Because he was seeking revenge.

“But how does killing someone else solve your problems?”

Your wise words repeat themselves over and over in his head. Fuck, if he only listened to you. He shouldn’t have agreed to work with Geto in the first place out of sheer rage. No, he could lay in bed with you at the moment, hearing about what is currently happening at Shibuya in the news.

Then this wouldn’t have happened. Then you wouldn’t lay in front of him severely injured.

His whole face is screwed up, trembling fingers clenched to tight that they bleed while a sob escapes his lips.

All of this is his fault.

“I’m so sorry, (y/n). I’m so so sorry”, he cries out, placing his head on your chest.

“Is he dead?”, you croak out, tired eyes wandering to the boy’s unconscious figure leaning against the wall.

“Yes…Yes he does…”

A weak smile forms on your lips. So this wasn’t in vain. After all, you reached your goal.

“Thank god…”, you mutter.

Choso’s guilty conscience eats him up from the inside. Why? Why the hell did he think killing Yuji Itadori is a good idea in the first place? Despite the deaths of his brothers, despite all the pain he’s been through, despite the fact that he isn’t even human.

He loves you with all his heart. Your gentle disposition that is the opposite of his cold-hearted one. Your friendly smile that outshines his emotionless expression every time. The way you love him although he didn’t even know what love is when he first met you.

You showed him so many facets of life and he tramples on all the things you taught him.

“I will get you out of here. And I promise will every fiber of my being that I will change, that something like this will never happen again”, he blurts out.

“You don’t have to change, darling. You just need to decide on your perspective of life.”

Everything hurts, you feel like dying from the inside. Although you don’t seem to bleed externally, the stinging taste of blood in your mouth tells you you are severely injured. A load moan escapes your lips when Choso gently lifts you off the ground, body screaming out in agony.

With a gentle kiss on your forehead and tears still running down his cheeks. Something like this will never happen again. Not through the hands of others and especially not his.

God, never again will he ever hurt you.

Satoru Gojo

Your fingers tremble uncontrollably as you try to figure out what you hold in your hands. Is this…positive?

Are you really pregnant?

Two lines. Two clearly visible lines. You feel like fainting and flying at the same time, your thoughts are racing.

Is this really happening? Are you dreaming?

No, the proof lies visible in your hands. You are pregnant. You are expecting a child with Satoru Gojo.

“Listen (y/n)…I’ve been thinking about this for a while now…Have you ever thought about having a baby? I mean, you’ve been my girlfriend for more than 6 years, my fiancé for half a year. I’ve never seen me as a father and I know this isn’t the best timing considering what’s going on in the word at the moment. But the thought of you with a precious baby belly, a child with your eyes…This thought filled me with so much joy recently that I wanted to talk about this with you.”

You couldn’t find words, his sudden outburst caught you off guard. But oh how much you thought about that too, how it would feel to have a child with the man you love more than anything else on this world, to start a family with Satoru. Tears started to sting your eyes, arms wrapped around him tightly.

“I would absolutely love that!”, you cried out, face buried against his broad chest while he stroked your hair just the way you like it.

“We don’t have to rush anything. Just living like usual without protection”, he mumbled against your head.

“I love you so much, Satoru. Nothing makes me happier than being with you. And maybe next year there will be three of us.”

He smiled down at you the way that always makes you see stars. God, how much you love that man. The thought alone to spend the rest of your life with him and your little family filled your heart with nothing buy warmth and joy.

“I love you too, sweetheart. More than anything else”, he mumbled.

Satoru. What are you supposed to do? Call him, text him, drive to Jujutsu High? You’re on your day off while he told you this morning that he’ll teach the new student, Yuta. As much as you’d love to get in your car immediately and meet him in person, you shouldn’t disturb him right now. No, this is something special. This needs time, a calm evening and privacy.

A little message can’t hurt though.

Hey babe, can’t wait to see you tonight. I’ve got some exciting news. Love you <3

You let out your shaky breath, eyes darting to the test again. Is this really your life? It surely can’t get any better than that.

-Satoru’s POV-

“I hate so say it, but I guess there’s no way out of this”, Shoko comments.

But there has to be. After all, he’s the strongest, he’s the only one who’s able to protect you right. This shouldn’t be the only way to save you, there has to be more.

“I will find a way around this”, Gojo hisses through gritted teeth, hands so tensed up that his veins pop out.

“You can’t. There’s absolutely no way to keep her save. She’ll insist on going with you if you tell her. And if you don’t she’ll find out and come to your place. Or worse, someone else will find her. She is the safest when she’s gone.”

Fuck. Satoru slams his fist against the table, blood squirting. He knows she’s right. Deep down, he is very aware of the fact that no matter how he twists and turns it, you’re in danger. Suguru made that very clear. He has to make a decision now, even if it breaks his own heart.

“So what’s the solution then, huh? Breaking up with her?”, he barks at Shoko.

“If you really want to make sure that she’s safe and gone, yes. Aren’t her parents living far away from here?”

That’s not what he wanted to hear. Thick rage crawls up his spine and takes his sight. He’ll kill all of them. Every single one of these curses and Suguru’s accomplices. This shouldn’t be the only way, he shouldn’t have to break the heart of the women he loves most.

Fuck, how much he hates to see you cry. Just a few days ago, he told you that he wanted to have kids with you, to start a family, he proposed to you. This will not only break your heart, but shatter you into million pieces.

“I get that it’s rough and that you don’t wanna do it. But if you want to make sure that (y/n) is safe, you have to make her believe that it’s over.”

“What if I’m hiding her somewhere at Jujutsu High? What if I’m staying by her side?”

“She’ll never allow that and you know it. (y/n) would rather die herself than letting other people suffer because you aren’t there.”

She’s right. Deep down Satoru knows that every word Shoko says is true.

- Later that evening –

You almost fall off the couch in excitement when you hear keys turning in the lock. He’s finally home! It must have been a pretty rough day if he wasn’t even able to reply to your text. Your fingers hold onto the test in your hands for dear life, heart jumping up and down in joy. How will he react? Will he laugh, will he cry? You don’t know. But he’ll surely be cheerful.

“Hey babe, I need to talk about something with you!”

The sound of your joyful voice alone makes him want to break down. Fuck, you don’t deserve this, none of this is your fault at all. So why does he have to break your heart so violently? He shakes his head, blindfold covering his already glossy eyes. There’s no way out of this. He needs to hurt you in order to save you.

“Oh, there you are”, you breathe out when you catch a glimpse of him.

Satoru looks as breathtaking as always, albeit a little drained. It must have been a rough day for him. But your news will definitely brighten up his mood.

“Babe, there’s something absolutely exciting I have to tell y-“

“(y/n)”.

The harsh tone in his voice quiets you down immediately, the grin on your face washed away in the wind.

“I have something to talk about”, he announces.

Why does he have to be so cold? What has gotten into him? Worry lines disrupt your face.

“Oh, did something happen?”

The innocent tone in your voice kills him right on the spot along with your stunning glimmering orbs…No, he needs to do this. After all it’s for your well-being. You’ll see that too, hopefully.

“I’m breaking up with you.”

You hold your breath, eyes scanning over his stunning face for any hint of sarcasm, for an emotion. But no, all he does is staring down at you with stone cold orbs, arms crossed in front of his chest.

You feel like fainting, world collapsing around you. No, this can’t be true. He can’t be serious. Not long ago, he told you he wants a child with you, he asked you to marry him. Your heart clenches, tears start glistering in your eyes. This has to be a nightmare.

“No”, you breathe out, shaking your head in disbelief.

“I’m breaking up with you, (y/n)”, he insists.

This isn’t a joke or a dream. You can tell that he’s serious, that he means every word he says.

“Why?”

“I don’t love you anymore.”

You can’t believe your ears.

“Just yesterday, you told me over and over how much you love me, you…you had sex with me, Satoru. Just a few hours ago.”

You can’t stop your tears from falling anymore, the feeling of this indescribable loss pulls the ground from under your feet.

“It meant nothing to me.”

His words hit you with full force, pushing you to sit down in order to not collapse onto the floor. Was all of this a game for him? And what about…?

Oh god, you feel like throwing up.

“I’m pregnant, Satoru.”

His heart stops. Your voice isn’t more than a fade whisper, almost too low for him to understand. Did you really just say that?

“What did you say?”

“I’m pregnant!”, you suddenly scream on top of your lungs.

Pregnant… You’re pregnant. You’re expecting his child, the child he told you he wants. You’ll be family! This is absolutely fantastic, you have to celebrate-

No. Satoru stops the seed of joy in his heart immediately. Now is not the right time for that. After all, he’s about to break up with you at the moment.

“I don’t care.”

His word cut through his very own heart like a knife, your face twisted in agony simply takes his breath away. You don’t deserve this, you don’t deserve any of those venomous words he spits at you. But he does it so you are safe. Yes, over and over he tells himself that this is for your best, that at least you’ll be out of the firing line. You’ll be safe and sound, you and his unborn child.

“Leave this place, stay with your parents or something. I don’t want to see you here any longer.”

In this moment, you feel like dying. Your past, present and future plays itself in front of your inner eye, reminding you of all the precious moments together. Was all of this a lie? Does he even care about you?

Like in trance you get up, grabbing nothing but your wallet and phone. You need to get away from here before you break down completely. If this is how he feels, he doesn’t deserve to see your grief.

God, he wants to break down in front of your feet, completely mesmerized by the way you carry yourself so well after his harsh words. Hopefully you will understand that he did this for you. Even though he broke your heart, you’ll live. And this is all that matters…

“Goodbye then, Gojo.”

The venomous sound of his last name out of your mouth makes him collapse onto the couch the second you close the door behind your back, tears glistening in his eyes.

Why? Why on earth did this just happen? Why did he have to hurt you like this? God, please let you understand it when all of this madness is over. Please let you be okay…

- Day of the night parade –

“Oh dear, look at this”, your mother breathes out while turning up the TV volume.

You gaze at the flickering pictures without any emotions, dark circles surrounding your eyes from all the nights without any sleep.

Satoru? You haven’t heard a word from him since that evening. That evening that altered your brain chemistry forever. That evening that showed you his real face. Since you’ve had nowhere else to go and wanted to be as far away from him as possible, you stayed with your parents ever since.

“What is going on at Tokyo?”, your father mutters.

Huh, looks like absolute chaos. Your eyes widen at the sheer amount of destruction, the reporter whose head gets ripped away by…

Your heart sinks.

This was a curse, without any doubt. What about Satoru?

No. You shake your head vehemently. This isn’t about him. What about your students, Nanami, Shoko, all the others? Are they okay? What is going on there? Suddenly you feel like standing up, too excited to sit.

You swore to never step a foot into Jujutsu High again, to start over somewhere else. But this…You can’t just sit here in silence with all your powers while your friends might die through the hands of curses.

“I need to leave”, you announce.

“What? But you said you want to stay here. (y/n), if this is about him…-“

“It’s not”, you interrupt your mother immediately.

“I need to watch after my friends.”

Yes. Screw Satoru and whatever he’s up to. Mindlessly your hands caress your little bump. This is your responsibly, the least you can do.

- At Toyko –

“Gojo-sensei, (y/n) is here”, Maki announces through her communicator as you walk through the barrier with ease.

Impossible.

His eyes widen in pure horror. All this pain and grieving over the last few weeks, all the nights he cried himself to sleep because he missed you, the countless thinking about your precious little baby.

And now you’re right here where you shouldn’t be, running into the arms of Suguru without even knowing it.

“Oh, I didn’t expect he’d be so dumb”, a painful familiar voice behind you suddenly speaks out.

You turn around, taking in the appearance of none other than Suguru Geto.

“Are you responsible for this whole mess?”, you question.

He steps forward, a satisfied grin plastered on his face. Fuck, this isn’t good. Suguru is a special grade, he could kill you without even trying. Are your students around? Maybe they are at Tokyo, maybe they are safe.

“Did Satoru send you here? Apparently he doesn’t care about you”, Suguru’s voice comments dryly.

Your heart immediately stings in agony, fingertips trembling. Just a few innocent words that break you completely after weeks of pretending you’re okay.

“He broke up with me a few weeks ago”, you clarify.

Suguru breaks out in hysteric laughter while all you can do is stare at him and hold back your tears. How is he able to laugh about your feelings? Before he went berserk, you and Suguru got along pretty well. What happened to him?

“3 weeks ago, maybe?”

You tilt your head. Why that question? And why…why is he so accurate?

“Yeah”, you mutter.

“How ironic.”

“What’s so funny about that, asshole”, you bite back.

His figure comes to a stand so close to you that you can feel his breath creeping across your face.

“It’s funny that he tried to save you and now you’re standing right in front of me, (y/n).”

His words pull the ground from beneath your feet, thoughts racing so violently that you feel like throwing up. What did he say about Satoru trying to save you? What is all of this about? You lose your cool completely.

“What the hell are you talking about?”, you yell into his stupid smirk.

“I gave him an ultimatum. But now that you’re here already…Let’s get this over with.”

You aren’t able to properly understand a single word as he hounds a curse your direction.

“Why are you even here?”

Where is Satoru? What is going on here? Where are your students? So many unknown variables, so much pressure. You need answers.

“I’m here to kill Yuta Okkotsu.”

Your heart sinks immediately. Yuta? Suguru is probably on the hunt for Rika. No, you can’t let him get away with this.

“Over. My. Corpse.”, you hiss through gritted teeth.

“Oh dear (y/n). I always liked your charm, but nothing better than that.”

It’s hard to keep up with him without any weapon. Where is your dagger when you need it? You only have your powers and your combat skills to attack him. But Suguru isn’t dumb. It’s almost frightening, the way he keeps distance between both of you.

Your baby. Fuck, you need to be careful. After all, stress isn’t beneficial for your pregnancy.

And dying too.

-Satoru’s POV-

He runs as fast as his feet carry him, vision clouded by thick fear. He did all of this for you, to keep you out of grip for Suguru. And now you’re facing him alone, his students not able to help you. What about the baby? He needs to hurry. If Suguru harms one single hair on your head…

“Get away from her. Now”, he barks at his former best friend, positioning himself in front of you just in time before one of Suguru’s curses hits you.

“Ironic, isn’t it? That you even scarified your relationship only for her to run into my open arms.”

“I never thought you would go this far. She’s not only a jujutsu sorcerer, but my girlfriend. I thought you are better than that. Keep your hands off her or you’ll regret it.”

All you can do is stare at his broad back with tears glistening in your eyes. Is this why he broke up with you three weeks ago and left you alone pregnant? To keep you out of sight from Geto?

“Leave this place, stay with your parents or something.”

These three weeks of torture, of asking yourself over and over why you weren’t good enough and where you went wrong…because he was worried?

“Why didn’t you fucking tell me?”, you cry out, slamming your fists against his back over and over.

“Why did you just leave me like that? Why did you not leave me any choice? Why would you leave me standing in the rain pregnant? Why did you do this to me-“

“(y/n)”, he interrupts you, glossy eyes darted at you in a way you’ve never seen before.

Satoru grabs your hands and pulls you closer to him.

“Because I couldn’t stand you getting hurt”, he breathes out.

“Because I knew you wouldn’t watch out for yourself. Because I knew this was the only way to keep you safe, even though it meant breaking both of his into pieces. Trust me, I hated myself every single day over the last three weeks, wondering every miserable second how you’re doing. It made me lose my mind, (y/n). And now you’re here, right here where you shouldn’t be.”

“I’ve got hurt the second you broke up with me just after I’ve told you that I’m expecting your child!”, you scream into his face.

All the pain, the grief, the longing, the waiting. Everything crushes down at you and swallow you whole. All of this was in vain.

“I never stopped loving you, (y/n). On the contrary, my love for you is greater than my longing after you.”

For the first time since you’ve met him, you can see him cry. Tears roll down his face uncontrollably, the ocean blue of his eyes disrupted by rough red.

“I don’t mean to interrupt your little moment here, but now that you’re already here, I can kill you, right?”

As if in slow motion Satoru turns around to his former best friends, hands clenched into fists so tightly that blood spills.

“I will make you pay for every tear (y/n) spilled, for these weeks of torture. You will regret your threat for every single fucking day.”

“Let’s get it on, then”, Geto remarks dryly.

...

Hope you're doing fine. If you're still able to, feel free to tell me whenever you want a part ll of this and with you. Thank youu <3

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Riddle Rosehearts - Platinum Jacket Voice Lines

When Summoned: It's an honor to be chosen as a supporter for this historical museum. I'll do my duty diligently while adhering to all the rules.

Summon Line: I made sure to review everything there is to know of the exhibits here at the Land of Dawning National Museum of Art. I am looking forward to seeing these works of art in person.

Groooovy!!: I cannot believe anyone would attend a tea party for which they did not receive an invitation... They'd only have themselves to blame if they lose their head.

Home: My utmost respect to 100 years of history.

Home Idle 1: When I gaze upon artwork that depicts esteemed people of lore like this, I feel humbled. I must also strive to achieve greater heights.

Home Idle 2: I saw Lilia-senpai staring at a painting intently... I'm a little... no, very surprised to see him look so serious.

Home Idle 3: I wouldn't say I find painting difficult at all. Although, the first time I was given an abstract assignment to complete, I did struggle slightly.

Home Idle - Login: The Land of Dawning's National Museum of Art exhibits countless masterpieces. This is a fantastic opportunity to improve our imagination skills.

Home Idle - Groovy: Rook-senpai had nothing but flowery praise to say of every single painting we came across. I see that's one way to interpret everything...

Home Tap 1: There are many tales of the Son of the God of Thunder in which he is depicted as one who could not control his strength. It seems he was not the type to tread carefully.

Home Tap 2: Silver was looking at the weapons wielded by the Thorn Fairy's men and was giving his thoughts on what form of fighting they each must have mastered. that is a perspective I hadn't considered.

Home Tap 3: Did you see the tea blends they have at the museum shop that are supposed to be made with specific luminaries in mind? I'm curious as to their flavor.

Home Tap 4: I saw Azul eyeing the painting of the girl wishing at a well. He sure looked like he was plotting something.

Home Tap 5: It is because we wear this formal attire without a single strand out of place that we look as regal as we should. It is out of the question to wear it slovenly.

Home Tap - Groovy: You wish to know what legends inspired these paintings? Fufu, I see you're quite eager to learn. Well then, allow me to explain everything to you in detail.

Duo: [RIDDLE]: Rook-senpai, I'm sure you know the drill. [ROOK]: Of course, Riddle-kun.

Birthday Login Message: Thank you for the birthday wishes. Make sure you attend the birthday party that will be thrown later, as well. It seems there will be a larger variety of dishes set out this time than previous years. It would be impolite to leave any food left over, wouldn't you say? Also... I'm sure it will be much livelier if you all were to come... At any rate, you must make your way to Heartslabyul later!

Requested by @farfalla049 and @sakurakudo.

[lionleonora]

are you a lover of cult classic rpg, Disco Elysium? do you find Kim Kitsuragi and Harry DuBois’s relationship fascinating and moving? do you miss an era of greater popularity for DE? then i present to you…

Kim Kitsuragi/Harry DuBois Fanfic Recommendations for the Despairing Disco Elysium Fan!

i love disco + kim/harry fics, but like many of you, i have read the classics many times over. thus, i have compiled a list of non-classic, hopefully unknown to you kimharry fics that i personally love and that may pique your interest. organized in order of least to most hits. enjoy!

palewalker by chernobylslug - this is the only incomplete work on this list. at 744 hits, i feel it flies far under the radar! the prose is lovely and the premise is unique, with Harry being the vampire this time instead of Kim. i would be surprised if it were ever updated again (it’s been a year since it was posted) but it’s always a possibility, and certainly worth a read! rated E, but no smut as of yet.

Hunger by PositivelyVexed - another super underrated vampire fic, this time with vampire Kim. it has some of the best mutual attraction/pining i’ve seen—what i love about kim and harry is that they are two societally ugly men who are absolutely feral with lust + respect for each other, and this fic executes that incredibly well. rated M, which people interpret differently. here, it means that the smut is strongly implied, but never outright described.

Canid Instinct by twiaerose - rated E, and one of the rare ABO fics in disco fandom spaces. Harry is an omega and Kim is an alpha, which plays more to their personality traits than the other way around, in my opinion. a LOT of mutual pining and some good allegory!

Intricate rituals by randomisedmongoose - i can’t believe it’s been a year since this was posted…it feels like just yesterday that it had 50 likes and was on the first page of kim/harry fics! amazing exploration of kink, disability, trauma, and mutual attraction. very much worth the read. rated E!

Objects of desire by OrangeGaytor - alright, this is technically not kim/harry, but it’s close enough. very funny and surprisingly sexy, though not to the degree that smut fics usually are. a quick, funny E!

Stress relief by nevermindgrantaire - we’re getting into the territory of more well-known but not fandom classics; but i still think this one is underrated. an amazing depiction of kim, and some of the funniest depictions of the skills as well. and of course, mutual lust and attempts to curb that lust. this will be a theme for me. rated E!

Ham Sandwich by itsGERALD - CRAZY TRIGGER WARNING FOR THIS ONE! that being said, this is one of the most innovative vamp fics i have ever read, and fits the gritty and ultimately disgusting world of kim and harry so well. if you can stomach the gore (which even i sometimes can’t!) it is absolutely worth the read. i think it should be a classic, but that’s just me. rated E.

The Personals Section by itsGERALD - some fandom members have (rightly) complained that many fan depictions of harry are sober, hot, and clean in order to get past the nasty stuff. this fic proves that you can have a hot romance while staying true to the fucked-up person that harry is. and boy, is harry and kim’s relationship weird - weird but good. my favorite of itsGERALD’s, and rated E.

The Erotic Adventures of Raphael Ambrosius Coustea by trr_rr - i also strongly feel this one should be a classic, and am kind of shocked it’s not. a funny and again, surprisingly hot crack fic about harry’s fantasies of getting dominated by kim. something revealing and bare about reading something so self-indulgent for “raphael”! rated E.

Shaving by itsGERALD - another great, quick PWP. they are desperate for each other! rated E.

The Gentleman Caller by ISKANDER_TM, Laura Kaye (laurakaye), Refrigerabo - this is the only multi-chapter fic on this list, and also has by far the most hits. however, multi-chapter fics usually get more hits as they’re updated, and i feel that proportionally, it is at the same level of popularity that the oneshots have been so far. this is a great vampire fic (sue me) and has my favorite trope ever: having sex WHILE pining. rated E, 8 chapters and around 50,000 words.

Bonus: Author Recommendations!

itsGERALD has been mentioned a few times here—they are one of my favorite authors in the DE fandom, and i think every fic they wrote is worth at least one read-through, if not multiple. they have 26 DE works in total and are incredibly talented, insightful, and creative. to me, they are a classic author!

nevermindgrantaire has some of my favorite underrated works. their whole series SHIVERS is worth checking out (a continuation of Stress relief!) and they have tons of other juicy fics in the DE space - 16 in total.

PositivelyVexed has written at least one of your fandom favorites. you’ve seen their popular stuff, so go check out their whole library - i promise it’s worth it!

if you’re still here, thanks for reading! these obviously aren’t NICHE or UNDERGROUND but i think they are underrated and not classics. i’m sure i’m not the only one who gets tired of sorting by kudos and then skipping a whole two pages when i’m looking for new fics. hopefully this was a good way to circumvent this! either way, i loved doing this. thanks for sticking around!

[save-the-villainous-cat]

Yes, yes, we love a bit of hero whump, though may I suggest if it is not too much.... some villain whump? 👀

-💜

Most of the time, the villain could deal with injuries perfectly. In fact, they'd been in med school for several years and had perfected stitching up nearly every inch of their own body. Usually, they wouldn't accept help under any circumstances.

Partly because it felt wrong to bother someone else with their troubles, partly because they were terrified of other people's (non-existing) skills. They couldn't risk it.

But they assumed being placed under house arrest with the hero watching them wasn't exactly usual.

It happened in the middle of a card game between the two of them. A week ago, they would have never agreed to such silly things but after a few days, they had realised there wasn't much to do. No internet connection. No smartphone, no TV. Just this house and a hyperactive hero that couldn't sit still.

Once a week they got to call their parents.

In the exact moment as they put another card onto the stack, the villain felt the stitches open one by one. At first, they simply denied it, made themselves think that it wasn't that bad. They were simply mistaken; it was surely just the usual pain and they were exaggerating.

But the pain increased and they could feel the wetness of the blood trickle down their back. A week ago, before the hero had captured them, they'd been in a pretty rough shape. A swollen face, several nasty bruises and this one stab wound that kept reopening. And stitching their own back? That was more than a little challenge. They hated it, they loathed it.

"I think I have to use the washroom," they said.

"Oh, really? Now that you're losing, huh?" The hero raised an eyebrow. They took these games a little too serious. "Do you seriously expect me to go easy on you because I am the hero? I've been playing this game for years. I have mastered it and I will destroy you, no matter what it takes. No matter what you try, I will-"

"Okay, you win, oh almighty hero." They threw their cards onto the table. It was getting worse. They didn't even know if they could stand up without tripping. Their vision blurred. Everything seemed to turn upside down.

"'Hey, that's not how this works," the hero said. "You can't just give up like that. I was supposed to defeat you."

"M-hm." The villain stood up and for a second, they really thought they would pass out. They took in a deep breath.

"Wait, are you okay?"

"Hm?" The villain didn't find the hero's eyes right away and they could feel their own body sway. God, they needed painkillers, rubbing alcohol, thread, needle... "Yeah, be right back."

They walked past the hero, always in search for something to hold onto but they didn't come very far.

"Oh my god." The hero sounded a little too concerned. The villain thought themselves to be quite a good actor and they weren't even swaying that much. "What the...?"

The hero was next to them in seconds, their hand on the villain's arm. They held onto them.

"What did you do...?"

"What? Nothing, I...oh fuck..." Involuntarily, they grabbed the hero a little too harshly when they felt the wound pulsating.

"Your entire shirt is drenched in blood!" The hero's gaze had hardened and a more concentrated look had replaced their playful smile.

"I got it, it's alright," the villain mumbled. They let go of the hero to drag themselves to the bathroom but the hero had other plans.

"Lay down on the couch," they said.

"You're not my boss," the villain argued. Sometimes, they hated themselves for their stubborness but being nursed by the hero sounded like a greater punishment than even house arrest. Being vulnerable around them, letting someone else take care of them...it sounded like actual hell.

"Please," the hero said. They took the villain's hand and the villain was so confused by this gentle approach that they almost forgot about the pain. They were sure no one else would ever beg to take care of them. When they remembered how violent their capture had been and how many heroes had punched them, they got goosebumps.

They would never tell anyone but they were having nightmares about their fights. Anxiety was eating them up. So, they were almost glad that the hero was observing them at their home.

"It's fine, really," the villain mumbled. "I got it."

"You are bleeding out. You're not fine. Sit down." More or less of their own volition, the villain eventually sat down on the couch. "I'll take your shirt off now, alright?"

The villain's hand was still in theirs.

"Okay," the villain agreed. Their breath hitched and they prepared themselves for the inevitable pain that would follow. However, the hero wasn't rough with them.

"Isn't that from last week?" the hero asked while they pulled the bloody shirt over the villain's head.

"Yeah."

"They gave me an entire protocol about your injuries. There wasn't anything about a stab wound. Just your ankle and your face."

The villain smiled tiredly. "Sounds about right."

It wasn't a big secret that the agency preferred to be silent on how exactly they caught their villains.

Against the villain's burning back, the hero's cold fingers felt heavenly. They put their palm against the villain's skin and pushed them a little forward to see the injury better.

"Did you stitch that yourself?"

"I tried, yeah."

"It looks pretty good," the hero said. "Just give me a second, I will grab everything."

The hero stood up and left for the bathroom.

And the villain sat there, perplexed. When had they ever allowed someone else to even touch them? When had they ever undressed in front of someone else?

What was happening? Were they really this desperate loser who needed comfort that bad?

The villain stared at their hands, their trembling hands. There was no way they could stitch any wound like this, not even if it was on their thigh.

It was more than frustrating, more than a little annoying.

"Is there anything else I should know about? Allergies maybe?" the hero asked. The villain turned around and was surprised to see the hero with all the things they would have grabbed too. There were even painkillers and a glass of water in their hand. The villain shook their head. "Alright. Take this."

All of it was a little...too good to be true. What the hero asked seemed reasonable and their actions were too. The villain swallowed the painkillers and watched as the hero sat on the couch. They pressed a clean towel against the villain's wound and despite their carefulness, the villain hissed.

"Your pain from one to ten? How bad is it?"

"I..." the villain realised they had never thought about it. Usually when they tended to their own wounds they were like a machine, following instructions they had burnt into their system a long time ago. It didn't matter if it burnt or hurt, as long as the wound was closed. But the hero was actually communicating, they were careful and gentle. "...maybe a three?"

"Are you sure?"

"Okay, it's a five." The hero seemed to be another person completely, their jokes and their cheery manner were long gone, yet they were friendly and soft. Apparently, this was the professional side of the hero.

"Do you think it was a clean knife? Your wound doesn't seem to be infected."

"It should have been. Heroes clean their knives regularly, don't they?" For a moment, the hero was quiet and the villain wasn't sure if they had said the wrong thing. They cleared their throat. "Uhm, I can also stitch the wound, if you..."

"No, it's okay. It looks pretty clean, so I'm not going to put any alcohol on it. Don't want to damage your tissue." Woah. The villain had never really cared about that. They'd just drench their wounds in alcohol to kill any infection causing thing, even if that damaged their tissue. "One more thing before I start stitching."

"Yeah?"

"Just out of curiosity. Do you know whom of my colleagues did this to you?"

The villain's stomach tingled. The hero was probably not asking out of pure curiosity.

[mycadences]

Elain: I am not a child to be fought over. (Chapter 21 of ACOSF, Azriel was present when she said that and HE HEARD IT)

Azriel: (In an arrogant tone) I'll defeat him [Lucien] with little effort. (Azriel's ACOSF bonus chapter, after Elain said what she said, and referring to the Blood Duel)

(Here Elriels might bring up "but Lucien asked if Elain was worth fighting for!" but the difference is 1. Lucien had only met Elain once at that time (it was during ACOWAR) 2. he didn't know anything about her 3. she hadn't said the line I'm referring to 4. he didn't overhear the line I'm referring to 5. "fighting for" has a slightly different connotation from "fighting over".)

So it IS canon that Elain would hate the Blood Duel and would have a problem with Azriel killing Lucien... while Azriel doesn't. In ACOWAR, Nesta and Feyre were worried about Lucien going off to find Vassa in case harm befell him.

This was what Feyre thought: Even Nesta seemed relatively concerned. Not for him, no doubt, but the fact that if he were hurt, or killed … What would it do to Elain? The severing of the mating bond … I shut out the thought of what it’d do to me.

But Azriel didn't think of how devastating it would be for Elain if her mate were to die. No, in fact, he didn't think much of her "beyond the fantasies he pleasured himself to".

Wow. How romantic. If this is the "canon" that Elriels are so proud of, then I'm honestly glad that it wasn't written about my ship.

Also look at this scene:

Elain: You do not decide what I can and cannot do, Nesta. // Then I will find it [the Dread Trove]. // You cannot resent my decision to lead a small, quiet life while also refusing to let me do anything greater. (This is also from Chapter 21 of ACOSF, and yes Azriel was present to hear it. Notice how the wording focused on Elain's agency, on her choice, on people making decisions for her.)

Azriel: (In response to Amren's suggestion that they let Elain track the Trove) There is an innate darkness to the Dread Trove that Elain should not be exposed to. (Chapter 29 of ACOSF)

Once again, he was doing something that Elain had explicitly mentioned she disliked, something that he KNEW because he HEARD IT. Despite hearing that Elain didn't like Nesta making the choice for her (not to scry for the Trove), Azriel STILL chose to throw in his unsolicited two cents and was essentially robbing her of her free will.

Compare this to when Gwyn got taken to the Blood Rite along with Emerie and Nesta.

Cassian: If I interfere, we’re both dead. And even if I did, Nesta would kill me if I jumped in to save her. She’d never forgive me for it. \\ And even if the laws had allowed it, he would never take that away from her: the chance to save herself.

Azriel: You—we—trained them well, Cassian. Trust in that. It’s all we can do.

Both Cassian and Azriel recognized the skills and abilities of the Valkyries. They trusted them to survive. And Cassian himself said that he wouldn't step in, NOT because he didn't care about Nesta, but he knew she would hate it (that he made the call for her) and that he was confident in her strength to overcome the Blood Rite. And they're mates.

(^ Those who say "Azriel and Gwyn cannot be mates because he didn't save her from the Blood Rite" must not have read SF at all lol. But anyway I digress.)

Azriel's line of thinking was similar to Cassian in that he believed in the Valkyries, and that's more than I can ever say about his faith in Elain. Or lack thereof.

Speaking of faith in Elain, you know who has it, though?

Lucien.

(I swear he's the solution to every Elain puzzle. He's linked to Papa Archeron whose death Elain was implied to feel guilty about, he's linked to the Courts that Elain would thrive in (Spring and Day) and he's linked to the central conflict in Elain's personal arc (their mating bond).)

He literally went to the Mortal Lands to find Vassa because Elain had a vision about it. THAT, is an example of trust. The only other person to argue for Elain's visions was Mor, and Cassian was busy rebuffing her while Azriel "looked inclined to agree [with Cassian, not Elain]". Lucien went on a possibly dangerous wild goose chase all because of his trust in Elain's visions -- in his mate's visions.

Finally, this is not a hate post against Azriel (in case it reads like one). I love him, but somehow when he's around Elain they give me Tamlin/Feyre vibes, which is why I believe SJM is actually intentionally dropping hints that their relationship won't work out. Already we see how toxic it is. I adore his interactions with Nesta, Feyre and of course our lovely Valkyrie-priestess, Gwyn ;)

[the-faceless-bride]

The New Arrival

Prologue: The Ghost.

Bnha x Reader (Asylum au)

Warnings: talks of death, child abuse, not accurate asylum and mental illness stuff, blood, talks of gore. And slight sexual themes. The prologue is very short! It’s setting the mood (:

A/n: Basically I read @bakuhoes-dumbass asylum Au once and liked it, and a long time ago when I had no story telling skills (one could argue I still don’t) I wrote my own twist version of it on wattpad but that part of my writing is over so I will now revise it here!! And it will be greater than anything the other version of mine could ever be. So please if you have any ideas to help me fully flesh this story out let me know and PLEASE if you like bnha stuff go check out @bakuhoes-dumbass work.

You knew why you were being sent away. After the outbreak of the sickness, people doing things normal people can’t. And you were one of them. Your parents could tell since you were born you were strange; you were the freak.

It started when you started pre-school, when walking down the hill with your sister you spotted a man hanging from a large tree. You stopped to talk with him for a moment and asked him why he was in the tree? “You can see me?” Was all he managed to say before your sister asked you why were you talking to. When you both got home is when your parents started to worry… their child. A freak. A monster. They couldn’t let anyone know what was wrong with you.

They started to try and keep you home and away from others, to try and seem like a normal family. But it became harder and harder the more your ‘quirk’ started to develop, you were almost like a ghost; you could float, you could disappear for short periods of time, you could make other objects float, you could speak to the dead. And you developed a morbid curiosity of the strange and unusual. You started to like that you were sick. It made you feel special, however that was something your parents couldn’t allow.

They’d done anything they could think to do as a punishment. Yelled at you, neglected you, never played with you or showed you the same attention as your sister, and eventually started to resort of starving and hitting you, but it only did more harm than good.

Instead of wishing your ‘quirk’ was gone, you began wishing They were gone. Wished they would leave you alone, let you be strange and special, and once your mother fell pregnant again. You got your wish.

They had become so stressed trying to keep your sickness a secret that they had become afraid of you. And when you threatened them if they didn’t stop locking you in a room with nothing that you would expose your sickness and make the “monsters” get them.

They’d done so much damage, to you and themselves.

They didn’t want you near the new baby, so they did what they thought was the best thing… they sent you away.

[kakashixhatakesxwhore]

hc/short story/blurb?? for shino with a girl that specializes on plant jutsu? I like thinking of them as sort of like in nature. (I had to look it up lol) mutualism! 🌱🪲

Also whenever shino (attempts) to talk, she takes all of it in. When shino’s not around, she notices and remembers him. Shino and her go back and forth about all sorts of stuff; she asks about Shino’s bugs and his favorites and she actually listens. Shino finally reciprocates and asks about her plants and all that.

She vibes well with most of the teams though so she’s got friend groups up the wazoo. Shino’s petty as fuck so I’m getting some jealous vibes from him too. But he shouldn’t feel that way over someone he’s not even in a relationship with, he thinks…. Not with the first person that’s actually remembered him, no……

(Also, shino’s canonically packing so do with that as you will, my friend. I just need something for our beloved bug boy.)

this request had me in a chokehold for two whole days - i really ran with this, it's pretty long, but sets up well for the last part of your request - i hope this hits your marks, thank you for the request!!

The Art of Mutual Growth

Pairing: Shino x f!Reader

Summary: Shino meets his perfect match while on a mission, and he quickly finds out that his solitude was dust, compared to the castle of your company.

W/c: 4.3k

Warnings: Swearing, talk of suicide (Shino's terribly dramatic about you), self-loathing

Notes: i was imagining Shino a few years post Blank Period in this, but this could work for Boruto era Shino too if y'all are in to that top knot - if you want a smuttier part 2, i got that shit lined right up, just lmk

Masterlist💿

He was used to being overlooked, discounted, alone. It never bothered him - even in love, his parents were solitary people, raising him to be unbothered by a sullen lack of attention. Being left to his own devices, Shino turned to his bugs for solace, and they provided as much as they could. To his knowledge, he was perfectly happy, alone with his insects.

But then you danced into his life, a trail of flowers in your wake.

You were his perfect match; a woman who could use Plant Release technique. Your kekkei tota was a gift of your Kiso blood, but too powerful for you to ever have full control over. Still, your control was wildly impressive, and your technical fighting skills were more precise than any Shino had seen before. Unlike him, you hailed from the Land of Flowers, but you couldn't reveal any further personal details at the time. It was a shame that the mission that brought you to Shino didn't allow him the time he so desperately needed to talk to you.

Side by side, you and he had fought together. Your snaking vines fed Shino's bugs chakra, and allowed them to infiltrate places on your vines with a much greater speed and accuracy than they ever could when Shino was alone. His bugs found your chakra delicious, almost as distracted as he was by you and your power. The recon mission went without hitch, mainly thanks to your immense amount of pure chakra and will to prove your capabilities. It was a shame.

Upon the mission's completion, Shino merely listened to your cracking conversation with Kiba and Shikamaru, resigned to the fact that he had missed his chance, already moving on in his mind.

When the team returned to the Hidden Leaf, Shino was ready to be the first to leave, already peeling away from the group until...

"I'm sorry," your sweet voice said timidly, behind Shino.

He stopped in his tracks, and you did as well, staying right behind him. The bugs' chakra told him you seemed nervous, which arguably relaxed him. Clipped, he asked, "What for?"

"We never got the chance to get to know each other," you grinned, coming around Shino to face him with a placid smile. Extending your hand, you gave him your name, and with a charm to your tone, asked for his.

Clearing his throat, Shino couldn't find his voice for a second. He had never seen such a pretty smile, let alone been the receiver of one. Your bubbly attitude caught him off guard. He couldn't fathom what you were doing, why you would be wasting your time, talking to him. You could've stayed with the team, striking up any number of conversations with one of them... but you didn't. You chose to talk to him.

"Shino Aburame," he said finally, taking your warm hand in his.

"You're wonderfully strong, Shino," you hummed, shaking his hand slightly. "The chakra control you possess is to be envied. I'd love to know more about your insects, if you have the time."

Staring the gift horse right in the mouth, he scoffed, "You must be joking."

"No." The expression you wore quickly became confused, but your tone genuinely despondent. With a twitch, you let go of his hand and Shino could feel his heart plummet. "No, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

From behind, Kiba's strong voice cut you off. "Hey, Y/n! Wanna take a tour of Konoha?" He came bounding up to the pair of you, Akamaru by his side, stealing your attention from Shino. "I'm free to be your guide, unless...you two..."

Looking back at Shino for a moment, you seemed to mull something over thoroughly in your mind. Your eyes were full of expectation, and Shino could feel his palms dampen.

"Go with him," Shino said, as casually as he could, though his words came out rather harshly.

He wished he could take it back as soon as he said it. The feeling that came when he saw a sharp sparkle in your eye, followed by an overbearing dullness, made Shino feel empty and so very stupid. Your lips drew straight, and your air became serious - everything about you became stony, frigid. The exact opposite of your demeanour before Shino had opened his stupid mouth.

Maintaining eye contact with Shino as you took Kiba up on his offer, he could feel his heart leap from his chest and into your palm. You squeezed it then, and when he watched you walk away with Kiba and his ninken, you crushed it.

In the aftermath of the successful recon mission, you were invited by the Fifth Hokage to stay in Konoha and train under her. You took her up, of course, and became an active member of the society within the Hidden Leaf. Everywhere Shino went, there you would be, talking to swarms of people at a time.

It was Promethean punishment, that he didn't deserve.

You would never speak to him again, because he was born with his foot in his mouth. He would be cursed to see you everywhere he turned, but you would never speak to him again.

A week had passed since you came to Konoha to stay. Shino had been tantalized, shown exactly what he wanted but couldn't have, for seven days, and he was sick to death. His solitude had never felt so solitary, watching you bop around the village with an onslaught of people.

It was made even worse by the fact that he had consistently been catching you, staring at him. The bugs would be abuzz, begging Shino to ask you to sprout one of your vines, telling him that you looked ready to approach him, yourself. He ignored then dually, thinking they were exaggerating your apparent willingness to speak to him. Why would you ever leave a full entourage, just to speak to him?

With the sun sinking lowly over Hokage Mountain, Shino decided to wrap up his meditation and just go home. His body was alight with energy, but his soul begged for rest and reprieve, something that Shino could not provide. As such, he left the sanctity of his neck of the woods to make a medial dinner and have a long sleep. Maybe that would fix him, though it hadn't seemed to work for the last week. Shino felt restless, completely unable to settle in a way that even resembled himself before you came along.

He would just have to get over you. The chance you served up on a silver platter had been spit on, and you would surely never serve it again. Shino had to move onward and upward, he couldn't stagnate.

But then-

There you were. In his hallway. In front of a door. Fiddling with your keys and hissing curses under your breath.

And all Shino could think was, I am going to make her my wife. I need to marry this woman.

"Hi."

You looked up, startled, but quickly smiled and looked back at your keys, still pulling and shoving. Slowly, you said, "Hey...Shino, right?"

He had never heard his name like that before. It dripped with silver and gold as it left your pretty lips, and Shino never wanted anyone else to say his name again. Only you. Only you, forever.

Looking up at his lack of response, you seemed nervous but tried to smile. "You're my bug boy, aren't you?"

"Yes," he said a little too quickly. The nervousness vanished from your expression as embarrassment became his. He cleared his throat, trying again, "Yeah. That's me. Shino."

She remembered. Her bug boy. Her's. She knows. I need to make her mine. Someway, somehow.

"I didn't think I knew anyone in the building," you said, finally procuring the key you wanted from the tangle. You slipped it into your door, the smiled at Shino, the nervousness coming back to you. In a light voice, you asked, "Would you...would you like to come in? Have a tea? With me?"

Shino thought he had died and gone to Heaven. There was no other plausible reason for him to have been getting another opportunity with you, this one infinitely more golden than the last.

The lock clicked and you opened the door, still awaiting his answer. A rush of cool air came over Shino, standing near your door. Leaning back, Shino tried to bite back his forming grin, before saying,

"I would like that very much."

You mumbled something under your breath and stepped into the apartment. Shino followed in after you, welcomed by the scent of lavender and rosemary. As you let him look around the living room, you went to the kitchen to prepare the tea.

Shino had never seen such a beautiful little place, especially not one that reflected it's inhabitant so well. Plants sprawled across every wall, their pots interconnected through a series of braided vines that wrapped and weaved around the others. All of the wooden things in the apartment were birch, the coffee table, the bookshelves, the chairs. To boot, all of the pillows and cushions were a pale, dusty green colour. Books and journals laid all over, accompanied by a myriad weapons and solo-practice materials. The feeling of peace was abundant in the small apartment, Shino found himself actually start to relax.

So, he would be letting you decorate the house when you eventually became his wife. This was useful information to Shino.

"Sencha or matcha?" You asked him, poking your head out of the kitchen.

You cared. "Sencha."

"Okay, give me another minute." You ducked back into the kitchen, your hair flowing so nicely behind you.

Feeling his bugs growing anticipatory, he began to try and suppress them. The last thing Shino wanted right now was for his bugs to take advantage of your hospitality. But his refusal only made them angrier. With your vines so near, it was like holding a lollipop in front of a child and saying no.

Coming back into the living room with a tea tray, you smiled at Shino, making him neglect his control over the bugs. Almost immediately, a swarm of insects came from Shino's body and flocked to the nearest vine before Shino could do anything about it. He swore and started trying to wrangle them, only stopping when he heard your melodic laugh.

He never wanted to hear anything else again. Not even the way you said his name could compare to your laughter - no sweeter sound had ever been produced.

"I don't mind, Shino, let them be," you hummed, setting the tray onto the table almost silently. Shino turned to you slowly, unsure if you were just letting your hospitality speak for you. You laughed, "It's fine. I promise."

"Whatever you say," Shino replied faintly, still not convinced but not willing to argue with you for even a second.

He came around to the couch as you picked up the jade teapot and poured both cups. He thanked you, taking up his teacup while you sat down on the couch. Sipping the steaming beverage, Shino hummed,

"This might be the best tea I've ever had."

"I'm glad," you grinned, sipping your tea before patting the cushion beside you. "Sit with me. Please."

Without hesitation, Shino sat on the furthest edge of the couch, giving you the space you deserved. You just giggled softly, collecting your legs onto the couch and shifting your entire body to face Shino. He smiled absentmindedly, heart thumping inside of his chest.

"So, I have to ask," you started. Shino turned more toward you, giving you his full attention. "Why did you get all aggro when I asked you about your bugs, the other day?"

Oh. No. No, this wasn't what he wanted. No.

"It...erm, it was... I don't..." Stars above, wasn't he pathetic? Couldn't even speak to the only person he wanted to speak to. He sighed deeply, "It wasn't the bugs, I just... I thought you were making fun of me when... when you... you know...?"

Furrowing your eyebrows as he blathered, you looked at Shino like he was crazy. He had never had so much trouble stringing together a sentence, and he didn't even finish the thought. The silence that followed was thick and heavy, just making Shino feel worse about his inability to talk to you.

"When I complimented your chakra and your control?" You asked finally. Shino nodded, just thankful that you spoke and he didn't have to. To his surprise, you smiled that sweet smile of yours and asked, "Why?"

"Who are you? The police?"

"Oh, n-no... I'm sorry."

Fuck, he could've killed himself. Only Shino Aburame could make a joke that wipes the smile off of your face. It was his voice, it wasn't jovial enough. No, it was his face, he looked too mean. No, no, it was his brain.

"No, I'm sorry," Shino sighed, setting his cup on the coffee table before rubbing his eyes under his sunglasses.  "It's the fact that you're as powerful as you are... and I'm not..."

"We don't have to talk about that."

Letting a short chuckle fall from his lips, Shino looked at you from the side of his glasses, getting a fully coloured vision of you in his peripheral. He took a breath, then felt a small bubble of laughter as he asked, 

"Then what do you want to talk about?" He sipped his tea, letting it warm his hands. "I'm a much better listener than talker, if you haven't caught on."

"I could've guessed." Narrowing his eyes, though you couldn't see them, Shino turned his head to you slowly. You laughed freely, "I talk too much as it is. I've got some innate need to chew the air. Aren't we a lovely pair?"

The church bells ringing, everyone's chatter falling to a hush as the organ begins-

"Hm, you've got such a nice voice, Shino - it's a pity you want to deprive me of it."

And here you are, coming down the aisle, right into his arms.

"W-what do you want me to say?" He asked quickly, chomping at the bit to make you happy. He didn't even have the mind to question your sentiment, just elated that it existed.

You sipped your tea, saying, "Tell me about your bugs."

"You're not making this easy for someone born to be a mute," he joked, watching your reaction intensely. Shino prayed his tone was humorous, that the small smile on his lips would support him.

And, to his joy, you laughed. Warm and rich, each soundwave landed on Shino's ear like a butterfly's kiss. You hummed, "I'm sorry-"

"And, please, stop apologizing to me - you haven't had a thing to be sorry for," he added.

"Okay," you said softly, looking at Shino with a matching expression. "Who's your favourite, then?"

That was a hard question for Shino to answer, especially given the bugs were in the room. But they were distracted, and so was he - both parties too under your influence to care.

Shino was still stumbling over his words and forgetting the most important ones, but you remained patient and attentive. It seemed you either were enchanted by his voice, or you were genuinely interested in what he had to say. Either way, Shino felt confidence bloom within him, and he started launching into great detail about his insects.

With rapt attention, you listened to every word that came from his mouth. Here and there, you would interject valid questions into the lulls of his speech, and he would answer them fully. As the two of you gradually finished the entire teapot, Shino found himself talking, and talking, and talking. He suddenly couldn't shut up.

"Fuckin' pot's empty," you grumbled, letting the final drop drip into Shino's half-full cup. "Want me to put on another, or do you fancy something else?"

"It's getting late, and I've already taken up enough of your time," he declined politely, finishing off the swig in his cup.

You sighed, "You say that like I've not been enjoying myself over the last-" Glancing at your watch, you gasped, "-three hours. Jumping Jehovah, I'm so sorry, I totally sucked up your night under the guise of tea."

"I would've just been sitting around, wanting to talk to you anyway," Shino chuckled lowly, feeling rather bold after having spent so much time with you.

Both of you stood from the couch with bashful smiles, each too shy to look at the other. Shino walked to your door and you followed after him.

"Do you want me to walk you to your door?"

He laughed lightly, "I don't expect that of you, but I'd have to be insane to turn down your company."

Opening the door wide, Shino motioned for you to go through. You thanked him kindly, then walked beside him in the hallway, five whole paces, to his door.

"Thank you for the tea, Y/n," he murmured, getting out his keys.

Your hand found purchase between his shoulder blades, making Shino freeze in his motion. His eyes darted to your face, finding the beautiful crescent of your smile in full bloom. "Anytime. We should make it a thing."

"We should."

"Goodnight, Shino."

"Goodnight, Y/n."

The breeze floated down the street with Shino. Today was the day, and it seemed even nature knew it. Nothing could slow him down, nothing could stand in his way.

Today was the day.

He had decided last night, today was going to be the day. It was an easy decision to make, but the gathering of courage tested Shino's resolve. But he was ardent, he was determined. Even if he did stutter, you would find it endearing, just like you had for the last six months. Even if he did say something wrong, you would understand, just like you always did.

Today, he was going to make you his. And he would finally be yours.

The plan was simple; show up at your door with something you would enjoy and deliver a great, long monologue that perfectly encapsulated every emotion he felt for you, then you would jump into Shino's arms and promise yourself to him.

The issues immediately became obvious; you could've hated the gift, he could've (and probably would've) screwed the monologue up to high Heaven, and, scariest of all, you might not have been so quick to jump into his arms. 

Shino could have potentially been planning on destroying the only relationship that ever particularly flowed naturally for him. He didn't want to think about that, not at all.

Not when today was the day.

The act of getting you a gift turned out to be more of a tribulation than Shino had imagined it to be. Nothing was grand enough, nothing meaningful enough. He needed something that would blow your socks off, something that would reduce you to the babbling fool that he became around you.

After spending an hour scouring the market squares, Shino moved to the trading post. Even longer was spent there, looking through stalls and trying to picture your reaction to each thing that struck him. But nothing was good enough. Nothing would ever be good enough for you.

Settling on a pricey collection of teas before the trading post closed, Shino haggled with the old man selling the tea. Just trying to get the price down to the amount he had in his wallet, Shino eventually left the trading post, coatless and penniless.

It didn't matter. Today was the day.

Stars, he wondered how nerve-wracking the ring shopping would be in a few years if this little trifle was causing so much strife.

Rounding the corner of the main street, Shino mulled over what to say to you. He just wanted to say I love you and kiss you, but that left you no agency. Even though it was becoming abundantly clear that you were interested in him, Shino still wanted to give you the chance to say no.

One thing that Shino hadn't taken in to account, though, were your other relationships.

And, as you came out of a restaurant with Kiba and Akamaru, Shino realized how grave of a mistake he had made.

Your face shone with a smile, ear to ear as you laughed at some witty quip Kiba delivered. He smiled back proudly, looking at you hungrily. The three of you began to walk toward Shino and he wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

"Oh! Shino!" You exclaimed brightly the second you saw him. Tearing away from Kiba and his ninken, you quickened your pace to Shino. He took a step back as you approached, otherwise frozen. Your happiness faded to worry as you asked, "Are you okay? What's wrong?"

The fact that anyone else could be graced by your laugh was wrong. The fact that you just finished what looked a lot like a date with Shino's former teammate was wrong. The fact that you didn't know what was wrong, was wrong.

"Shino, sweetheart, talk to me," you commanded gently. Kiba and Akamaru loomed a few paces behind you, trying to look like they weren't intensely listening. It aggravated Shino monumentally.

Everything about how today was becoming was aggravating him. Shino couldn't even enjoy his name on your tongue, let alone the pet name you had given him. It all felt like lip service.

"I got this for you," he said weakly, offering up the wooden box in his grasp. You looked down and cocked your eyebrow, before looking back at Shino. "I wanted to... to... nevermind." His heart was shattering. "Just take it."

Even if the gift wouldn't have the same effect, Shino wanted to see your reaction. He truly thought you would like the tea, potentially more so now that his unrequited feelings weren't attached. Cautiously, you took the box from Shino but didn't open it.

"You just wanted to what?" You asked, still so concerned over the man before you. "Where's your jacket? Shino, please, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, it's not important."

"Something is clearly bothering you, and it is important," you rebutted, acquiring a slight edge. "What's bothering you? If you don't tell me, I can't help."

Fuck.

"I love you!" He shouted, putting every single emotion he felt into his words.

Fuck.

Feeling like he was going to cry, Shino turned on his heel and walked. He didn't want your reaction now, he just wanted to save face, if that was even at all possible, at this point.

"Shino," your sweet voice said timidly, right behind him.

Stopping dead in his tracks, Shino hung his head lowly. The bugs were no help, just saying your eyes were as glossy as his.

Slowly, you came around to face Shino and bent lowly enough to be in his view. You smiled up at him and he couldn't help but smile back, taking in the odd posture you assumed as you let the wooden box rest beside your feet. Everything felt so silly. So trivial.

"Yeah?"

You straightened out, making Shino's head follow you as his eyes stayed glued to your face. Your beautiful face.

"Before I make myself look stupid-" Your sentiment made Shino scoff a laugh, because no one could look more stupid than him. Sweetly, you just smiled, continuing, "Do you love me platonically, or romantically?"

He took a deep breath, blinking slowly, before answering, "Every single way under the sun."

"Good," you beamed, taking a step forward and taking the lapels of Shino's flak jacket into your hands, pulling him forward. On your toes, your face came closer to his than it ever had been before, your petal soft lips brushing against his so gently as you said, "I love you too."

Not wasting a moment, not getting in his head, Shino knew that this was it.

He leaned down, closing the small gap, and met your lips fantastically. Not even Shino's wildest, wettest dream could've prepared him for the utter decadence of your kiss. His hands found your hips, pulling you as closely as he had needed you to be for months. But it wasn't enough, for either of you.

Leaning even lower, Shino's left hand cascaded down your lower back and you got the message. Immediately, you jumped up and he caught the bottom of your thigh, squeezing your tender flesh with his left hand while his right explored your back, sitting you atop his hip bones. Your legs locked behind Shino, squishing his waist in a way he didn't know he craved so badly. Warmth exuded from your being, a warmth that Shino longed to be blanketed under and hidden within.

"Come back to my place," you said between kisses. Shino just smiled and started to walk, but then you stopped kissing him, making him stop on a dime. Running your fingers up his lapels and allowing his neck the sweet contact, you laughed, "What's in the box, if you can just leave it in the middle of the street?"

With a chuckle, Shino turned around. He noticed Kiba had left, and he felt a wave of satisfaction wash over him. Not putting you down, Shino knelt and picked up the heavy box with his right hand, holding it behind you.

You groaned, scratching his neck lightly, "My stars, you're strong."

"You never noticed?" Shino joked, though a feeling of pride surged through him.

"I've noticed you're impressive in a few different respects," you replied with a teasing lilt. Moving your hips, Shino felt a friction that was positively dream-like and you purred, "Don't you want to impress me?"

"More than anything." And he meant every syllable.

"Good," you hummed, placing a lingering kiss to Shino's lips. You looked at him, eyes more obviously filled with desire than Shino had ever thought visibly possible. "Take me home."

By his lucky stars, Shino would gladly do so for the rest of his life.

Part 2 - The Art of Mutual Pleasure

[pincushionx]

Been seeing some discussion on Hunter’s kill count so let me throw in my interpretation

…

Hunter isn’t some cold blooded killer. In fact in the show we see him avoid doing any messy work. Like having the owl gang try to kill the selkidomous or letting Luz and the Palismen go. Or the fact that during the fight with Amity he never did anything to imply he was trying to kill her, he didn’t even try restraining her. He just was trying to snatch the key and leave the entire fight. If anything, it was Amity pulling out the hurting and restraining moves lol.

But rather where I think there is violence was because of the inherent nature of the two missions. Mission 1 was him trying to kill the selkidomous, the only reason that didn’t happen was because there was people there to do it for him (even if they didn’t). So that makes me wonder, where there other beats killing missions he had to do? I’d imagine so, and I guarantee he didn’t have anyone to the work for him those times. So there’s that, Hunter killing some beasts.

Mission 2 was the palismen , and also before the mission we see him handing a palismen to Belos. So yeah, dude has probably taken ownerless palismen in the past, and has given palismen to Belos to kill and eat so theirs that. I don’t think he’s directly responsible for the deaths of hundreds of palismen but numbers do add up.

Also another thing I want to mention is direct responsibility, I’d imagine a lot of the violence or deaths caused by Hunter weren’t directly from him but the consequences of his job.

Now next is where we can be a bit imaginative, I pretty sure it’s stated in the show that Hunter only goes on missions on the weekends. So dude is pretty much just hanging out in the castle in the weekdays. That means he was probably doing paperwork, and considering he’s a coven head, he has a lot of power. So on the weekends rather than him going on missions, he was sending out scouts. That means anything that the scouts did, that he may have sent was also partially his responsibility. So if the scouts where to arrest, or kill any witches, then Hunter would likely feel at minimum partially responsible (I feel like he’d feel incredibly guilty as if he directly killed them)

Now for the actual mission, obviously he’s likely captured wild witches. While he was shown to struggle a bit but learn and adapt with palismen magic. When we see him with his artificial staff, he’s highly skilled with it. He fought pretty calmly with Luz and Eda at the shores and can travel a high speeds with it. I’d be more amazed if he didn’t manage to arrest anyone. Anyways, so here’s Hunter, he’s arrested some wild witches and he’s proud of himself. He takes them to the conformatium, he thinks that’s the end of it only for those witches to be privately petrified. We know that public petrifications hadn’t happened in 30 years but we see that they still happen in private.

It’s a bit dubious if we know if Hunter knew of these petrifications or not, much less arresting witches knowing they’re going to be petrified. But I think he possibly may have considering in Hollow mind he excuses those death of the sigil witches as just Belos perfecting sigil magic and literal terrorism for the greater good.

That’s where I think a kill count comes to play, that Hunter arrested wild witches knowing there may have been a possible chance of them dying. Therefore making him a factor for death. (Not to confuse with cause of death)

Another idea is him accidentally killing, like using too much force or miscalculating a spell. Another idea is killing in self defense. Assassinations aren’t much of a surprise in the castle so I don’t doubt there’s a chance that he may have killed an assassin or someone trying to cause bodily harm on him. Again a situation of a fight with a wild witch going too far. I don’t doubt a wild witch willing to fight Hunter to death knowing it was likely he was going to arrest them and lead them to a possible death.

One more, a messed up one but one that isn’t too out of character is having Belos having Hunter test his loyalty by being able to kill for him. Or Belos having Hunter kill someone in the privacy of the castle, like a traitor coven member (I doubt Raine and the Cats are the first to attempt a infiltration) Hence, where the context I was thinking of for this drawing actually comes from. (“May Titan have mercy on you”).

Again this is me just counting deaths and not any other potential violence he may have committed (not resulting in deaths. Even if someone doesn’t die, the violence inflicted upon them could still be life changing. The idea of Hunter giving someone a disability or trauma is pretty sad :( and not even impossible). Hunter in the show is pretty desensitized to violence in the way he talks about it or thinks of it in Any sport in a storm and Hollow mind.

So yeah, that’s my Hunter kill count, a couple if beasts, dozens of palismen and handful of actual witches, my guess 3-6. Could be higher but I’m trying to be a bit more realistic, even if I admittedly want to dramatize it lol.

Anyways that my rambles, anyone have their own thoughts on this?

[kursedmayo]

This is gonna be a a bit of a controversial take but to me Farcille to me is not very appealing since Falin and Marcille's relationship is a bit too complex to be boxed into a simple ship. There's both gay, platonic and familial implications and I don't think I've seen this type of relationship in media before actually.

In the Anime they really went all in on the yuri domtext- I refuse to call it subtext because its not, in fact sub (jk) but in the manga it's a bit more ambigious. In both media though they're portrayed as close, like way too close just to be friends. I think this might have to do with initial impressions, Marcille treating Falin like a little sister while Falin treats Marcille more like friend.

If you've read the Manga there was an implication that at some point Marcille wanted a younger sibling, but apparently she ended up being the youngest and the last child (if my memory serves correct). When she met Falin, she was a bit shy, tomboy-ish, and seemingly carefree when they met, which can sometimes be perceived as someone being pretty childish. Because of that, in her mind Marcille may have somewhat adopted the idea that Falin is younger than her and such, and then her subconscious childhood desires made her think of Falin as a little sister. I myself is more receptive to receiving or initiating touch with my brothers since I'm comfortable with them, so I can see why they're comfortable being physically close often.

This may also be why she dislikes Toshiro (Shuro) so much, she was particularly defensive of her little sister. I kinda doubt Falin discussed ever wanting to get into a relationship so maybe Marcille wanted to beat back unwanted suitors? At the same time this may just be her being jealous and not wanting to let Falin go, which can be interpreted to be something due to romantic feelings for Falin.

Meanwhile, when Falin met Marcille her impression was that she was a cool academic girl that took interest in her and befriended her. Marcille is most likely her first friend at that point and quickly became her best friend. She clearly admires Marcille and good LORD have you seen that bath house scene?? It was much less yurified in the Manga since Marcille was clearlu tired from using ancient magic and was having delayed reactions but I really dont think that was sisterly in any shape or form, it seems far too intimate. Keep in mind she was the one who initiated the hand locking in the bath house, not Marcille, so that may imply sometjing. So this brings me to my final conclusions.

Marcille probably thinks of Falin like a little sister or at least perceives Falin as someone younger than her that she wants to take care of. At the same time though her relationship with Falin is also hard to define completely by familiar or platonic because Laois is literally there for comparison and their relationships don't seem very similar to me.

On the other hand, Falin most likely sees Marcille as her best friend, someone either her equal or greater in skill or talent. When she has a slightly embarassing problem (like her constant flushed cheeks) she wants help with, she trusted Marcille enough to go straight to her instead of figuring it out herself so that says quite a lot, considering Falin seems to be of the independent type and don't like bothering people. However, there are also some odd vibes regarding her behavior with Marcille that prevents me from also waving Farcille off, so again I hesitate to box their relationship nearly into a single category.

So yeah. No hate to Farcille but I think I'd rather label these two weirdos with "???" instead of just friends, sisters or girlfriends. It feels a bit more accurate that way.

[breadvidence]

So, what about Javert makes me want to

?

Well, Victor Hugo did two impactful things.

He created a character who is both a symbol and a personality. Javert has the impact of representing concepts (surveillance, compliance to authority, policing of social boundaries), of embodying a societal role (the police), and of being a fully drawn individual. As a reader, I am treated to philosophy, politics, and to the entertainment of reading about a little creature whose bizarre brain is a unique and believable invention of how a human being might think and behave. *Slaps roof of Javert* this thing can hold so much contradiction, tragedy, queer erotic energy, comedy, and metaphor. Of course he's one of my favorite characters in literature.

He wrote a novel which asks its reader to deeply engage (among many other things) with redemption and compassion, asks us to believe those things are possible, and he went and did so very fucking well. To be personal, as a bitter drunken cynic whose desire for peace, joy, community is complicated by a deep distrust of people, this novel has told me even if you are scarred, scared, and alone, there is a compassion greater than you, every soul contains a spark, and the future is made of light. Again: there's a lot else going on in these pages, political and religious rather than personal, pragmatic as well as elevated, and I love it for those, too, but I am tired, and this is what makes me feel.

Characters aren't people, and the redemption and compassion Hugo asks us to believe in do not quite apply within a story as they do in life. All the same, what kind of critical reading skills could I claim if I didn't see how he depicts a damped spark in Javert flaring to awful light in epiphany? How could I not understand that Hugo extends compassion even to this figure he has spent an entire novel mocking? Why would I not recognize a depiction of fear?

To ask the initial question again: what makes me want to mash this character like play-doh? Javert's suicide is not a perfect end to the character's arc because it is inevitable or because death is the just desert of a harmful person. It is the perfect end to the arc because it makes me hungry for a different one. So I get all silly about the character in adaptations, I pal around with other people who care about him, I write my little stories in which he fucks Jean Valjean, and I hold space for the critical analysis of what the character is doing as a part of a great novel's moral vision.

[bobosbillionsknives]

i agree with a lot of your points about knives, i do also think he is aroace of some kind (demi imo), but the way he ignores bodily autonomy wasn't a theme that was new to stampede. the way he consumes other plants and forced vash to use his angel arm are examples of it, though less explicitly 'sexual'. either way, his actions weren't born out of sexual attraction, he simply thinks that all plants are an extension of himself and he can use their bodies as he pleases since its for a 'greater purpose'. he is not a predator but he isn't innocent either

Oh no no no no no no no I do NOT wanna give the impression that I am genuinely defending knives is ANY way. 😭

I completely agree with everything you're saying. He is inarguably abusive. Saying he's not would be a wild ass claim to make. 🙏 My only argument here is that it isn't specifically sexual, but I'll get more into that in a bit. 😝 I have SO MUCH to say abt this...so I'm gunna use this as an excuse to word vomit on y'all. Thank you for bringing this to me I am itching.CRAVING to talk about my favorite girls always. 🤗💖

INSANE ESSAY POSTING LETS GOO !!!

I think your point on Knives seeing the plants as an extension of himself is SPOT ON!!! He does the same thing with Vash too. He's doing it because hes so stuck up his own ass he seriously thinks there is no possible way he could ever be wrong, everyone else is just too blind or stupid to see it his way. That's why he does the whole "eternal suffering for Vash the Stampede" bit. He genuinely cannot comprehend that Vash just fundamentally disagrees with him. He thinks if Vash goes out and sees every horrible thing a human can be he'll finally give up the hippy dippy act and face this false reality Knives made up as a coping mechanism so he never has to actually face any of his problems. Cause stabbing all your problems away is waaaaay easier than actual growth or change. Top ten girls who are trapped by the horrors of their past 😂!

Knives has a blatant misunderstanding of people's worth outside of himself. He disregards the lives of others constantly, he literally murdered 20 mil+ and was genuinely confused when Vash was mad at him for it. He doesn't take anything seriously. He especially doesn’t take physical pain seriously, unless it’s happening to himself. [DID YOU ACTUALLY SHOOT ME!!?] He's said that he knows none of the crazies he sends after Vash can ever kill him. He thinks if they can't kill him, then none of the hurt Vash experiences during these fights really count. Its always a game to him. He knows Vash will be fine because he has faith in his ability to fight. (He's complimented his fighting skills several times lol.) Yet he’s consistently shocked and disgusted when he sees Vashes scars, like he didn’t play a role in that ??? He just never thought of it until it was literally staring him in the face.

HE THINKS EVERYTHINGS A DAMN GAME !!!!!

Knives never really wants to force Vash to agree with him either, he's literally waited decades for him to come around to his point. He's definitely lashed out violently before, and has disregarded his safety. But I don't think he actually even likes seeing Vash in pain 😭 (maybe a little in a Itoldyouso brother kinda way lol.) He's completely horrified when he sees his scars. This panel speaks absolute VOLUMES to me. He is angry that Vash would allow people to hurt him this much. (Bro is for sure a victim blamer 🥱 Vash OBVIOUSLY should've known humans are evil and would do this to him. 🙄 HIS FAULT !) Those scars solidify in his mind that his brother is reckless, and clearly doesn't know what's best for himself. That's why he feels the right to "save" him from humans. Knives out of anyone in the world knows how much Vash disregards his own life. He's angry that his own brother would choose the perceived violence of humanity instead of the safety he has worked SO hard to cultivate for over a hundred years. After everything they learned from their childhoods, Vash would have to be deaf and dumb to keep crawling back to them. (From his perspective anyway.)

Everything Knives does he thinks is to better Vashes life. That's what makes him such a tragic character to me. He genuinely believes he's in the right and doing everything he has to so him and his brother can feel that safety that was never guaranteed to them in childhood. He loves Vash, (PLATONICALLY !!!! 😰) He wants Vash to be happy. He just doesn't understand why, that despite everything, living alongside the humans is what makes him happy. Something he only accepts at the end of trimax when he literally trees himself to assumed death so Vash could have that. Knives is unambiguously in the wrong, but I do think his thought processes are sympathetic. WRONG. But like .I get it girl. Besides, he acts more like a toxic mother than anything. How DARE you be so ungrateful after everything I've ever done for you that you've never even asked for. ✋😒 and EXPLICITLY told me not to do. Ugh. 🙄 you don't even love me…guess im just a terrible brother than huh…🥀 BITCH SHUT UP !!!!

Now about the asexuality, not only...do I think Knives is aroace. I think he's completely sex REPULSED!!!!! Sex is a mark of human degeneracy, animals clinging for power over each other. Hed think hes above it !! It would disgust him, I don't think he's ever had a sexual thought in his life. He’s also a Jesus freak he'd think procreation in general is a sin 🙄‼️ik his interpretation of the bibles gotta be INSANE. Exploring sensuality is like a normal and healthy thing to do no fucking WAY Knives is self aware enough to do all that. If he could experience any kind of libido, his hatred of humans would never allow him to explore it anyway. Since sex is such a huge part of human culture. He probably thinks consensual sex is a myth humans made up to assault each other easier…😭

this is literally him bro I can't see him any other way...🚬 He's literally a pearl clutching mom who refuses to understand anyone else's experiences because he doesn't understand them.

I can't imagine him being able to feel romantic love either...I actually think it would be pretty out of character ngl. Plus I think it could be an interesting element of why he feels so disconnected from humanity in general. It would be part of why he feels the need to define himself as alien. Knives would rather die than admit this, (and he did) but all he's ever wanted was understanding. The same way Vash does. Knives doesn't understand sexuality/romance, or deep empathy, or most social confinements at all. That's clear by his inappropriate emotional reactions and lack of a filter. He can't feel emotions the same way Vash or Rem can. It makes it very difficult for him to relate to and connect with others. Especially Rem. He feels too wrong, too broken, too alien. But he's convinced himself that this is actually a superiority. So he can sleep at night. But he's far more human than he'll ever be willing to accept. The familial love he feels for Vash is the only thing that makes him feel normal. And it's why he clings to it so desperately. I think that feeling being explicitly familial makes the most sense for the story.

(cut for explicit talk of SA/CSA)

Im never one to dismiss bad actions from a fictional character. If I thought Knives was a sexual abuser, id say it. I even considered it before I watched/read Trigun and kept it in mind the whole time because of how prevalent of a take it is. If anything, I feel like theres more evidence for metaphorical depictions of Knives BEING sexually abused than being the sexual abuser. I mean his literal whole thing is how plants bodies are used and abused against their will. Solely for the humans gain. While it's slowly and painfully killing them. And how afraid he is that they'll do it to him too....😭 He would be absolutely HORRIFIED by SA. I just don't think it's an abuse he'd perpetuate. It goes against literally everything he stands for. I get he’s a hypocrite and all but I could just never see Knives of all people doing anything sexually ever. ESPECIALLY for his own pleasure.

Both Vash and Knives read to me as CSA victims. This would need to be a separate post all together because there is entirely just too much to say. But I feel very strongly about this interpretation and it's why I'm so firm on this. Sexual abuse is a huge theme in trigun OBVIOUSLY!! And Vash and Knives can easily represent different ways people cope with trauma like that. Knives gets angry, and bitter, and lashes out. While Vash shuts himself off, and tries to run away from it all. Two extremes from two brothers. Two sides of the same coin and all that. They've been victimized, I think it's the main reason why Knives would be so angry and distrustful of humans. Now I know Steve was kind of a throw away character from the anime- but I believe long term interpersonal abuse from a human early in life would explain a lot of the deep rooted hatred Knives has for humanity. Along with his hatred for Rem if she failed to protect them, and his deep sense of entitlement to protect Vash if Vash couldn't protect himself. (Tesla was the last straw for Knives bc at least for a while he thought he could trust Conrad till all that happened and he realized the only person he could ever trust was Vash, and that fear never really left him even 100+ years after.) (My interpretation of Conrads role is also a different post gerrrrr TOO MUCH TO SAY.)

Knives' ideology has always been inconsistent, I can easily see him disregarding autonomy in some ways but refusing to in others and never making a mental connection between the two. Plus Knives would think Vashes scars are shameful and disgusting. He probably cant even make himself look at him let alone touch him be so fr. Knives' definitely has an unhealthily attachment to Vash but not in a sexy sex or ROMANCE way 🤦‍♂️ ITS JUST HIS BPD YA’LL 😝‼️#favoriteperson #extremefearofabandonment #vashkeepsleavinghim (also another separate insane essay post) there is no argument here that Knives isn’t extremely bad at emotional regulation. Familial/platonic dynamics like that happen literally all the time it’s just not evidence of anything to me. I can't even see Knives directly punching someone let alone be capable of sexual violence against his own BROTHER ? I'd argue he's far more verbally/emotionally abusive than he ever is physically anyway. He doesn't even kill directly, it's always either done without a second thought by his powers, indirectly by starving the population out, or by making other people do it for him. He doesn't seem to actually enjoy seeing people in pain, more the satisfaction of a job well done. I don't see why this wouldn't apply to Vash too? He doesn't even usually initiate their physical fights. Vash does. (He has every right to, for the record. Knives just doesn't comprehend why Vash would be mad so he always tries to talk like everything is normal. Lol.) And when they are fighting he always puts his hand on his face ?? More annoying than a direct indication of violence. He could just punch him or something but he doesn't? Like violence in Trigun isn't a thing known to happen. Idk I think that's interesting and worth exploring a bit yk ???

Obviously he chopped his arm off I'm not saying he's innocent there either, just that he's more likely to be emotionally manipulative than explicitly interpersonally violent LOOLL. He didn't chop off his brothers arm because he enjoyed it, to him that pain is neutral. It was just a super casual reminder. But SEXUAL violence is completely different, sure it'll leave scars but you can heal from physical pain all day and night I mean commooon it barely even COUNTS as real pain. (Because he rarely has to experience it.) (A certain someone's got a major empathy problem.) And if it kills you it doesn't matter cuz you're already dead 😝!! But SA is different. It's his worst fear and greatest agony. It's something he knows sticks with you your whole life, he doesn't think that's a wound capable of being healed. (So he never tries and chooses to live in constant fear and anger instead.) That's how I see it anyway...🤕 Again it's not like he's a reasonable guy he is known to be a bit unstable idk if u knew...

Actually if anything, I think Vash would be the more interpersonally violent of the two. (Vashes abuse is always reactionary tho he would never act like that if Knives would just be normal lol he is not the aggressor here.) I can't see Knives punching Vash but I could VERY easily see Vash punching Knives ykwim ??? (For trimax anyway, ik kid Knives beats the shit out of him in 98 which I DO think is funny. But I don't accept into my personal canon okay LISTEN we are talking about a lot of conflicting characterizations here. JUST HEAR ME OUT. ✋) Knives never even really blames Vash for BLOWING HIS LEGS OFF in July too, which I always thought was so interesting. It makes me think this is actually a common thing for them to the point that they don't even argue about it outside of "are you actually aiming at me again 🙄?" Which is more bitchy than angry. Like ugh I can't believe you. Typical, typical Vash. 🥱 He'd probably use it as a way of proving to him that they are the same. And despite denying it, Vash would actually agree and feel a deep sense of shame abt it. He's had 150 years of pent up anger after all. He almost killed him with a rock once lol. I'm tired of everyone woobifying Vash as some kind of perpetual uwu victim. Vash is fucking mean sometimes. He is just as capable of violence as Knives is. The same way Knives is just as capable of great kindness. It is known that Vash is in fact physically STRONGER than Knives. (With his plant powers and id assume in general because Vash actually goes outside while Knives reads in his garden all day.) I truly believe that the only reason Knives ever wins the sibling fights is because of Vashes constant hesitance. He's not a battered wife stereotype. All Vash wants is control over his own life, the last thing he'd want to see himself as is a helpless victim. It's why he always pretends nothing is ever wrong with him. It's why he doesn't accept help, and values other people's problems far above his own. His kindness was always an active choice and that's why he's such a powerful character. And Knives would bring out the absolute worst in him LOOL all that work he's done to better himself is instantly thrown out the window the second Knives' very punchable face walks in the room.

He was fighting absolute demons not to run over and beat tf out of Knives in this panel

This is why I feel so disgusted by stampede and the way they handled their relationship. They've dumbed down these characters to the point that they are unrecognizable. Literally every aspect of stampedes portrayal of them feels like a first conclusion based on a synopsis of their goals and personalities. I get there's only one season but that's a LOT to fuck up in one season bro. 😭. There is absolutely no salvaging Nai as a character for me. I'd cover my drink around that guy I find him genuinely repulsive. At least with trimax, you can read around an initial sussy reading if you wanted. How anyone defends Nai, I don't even know. That whole plant insemination thing is pretty on the nose y'all. Literally doesn't even make sense for him to do that like? Why would he want more independent plants??? It's like they tried to make Knives' motivations make sense when the whole point should be that they don't. He's fighting ghosts out of fear. Stampede wasn't even good enough to justify its own existence by how it looks. Adding peculiar plant pregnancy preggo fetish incest bait is just the turd on the turd cake. They ruined the most compelling part of the story for me. Pfft.... But whatever...🚬 not like I care ....🚬

Not to mention Legato y'all don't even get me started. The guy that HATES humans more than anything in the world taking in a HUMAN -SEX TRAFFICKING VICTIM. The one time he's ever taken pity on a human being and it was someone who was the victim of a violent sex crime. Yeah guys that dude. Total raper. Defo a brother diddler. What the fuck are we talking about right now y'all. I genuinely feel like sexual violence would be the last thing knives would ever do ever. I understand that there are sus scenes in the manga that could be interpreted this way, but considering the many themes in Trigun and his place in the story as a whole, I think it is such a misrepresentation. And it frustrates me to see it as one of the only things talked about in regards of his character. If I could, I'd rewrite every scene in the world so people could understand what I see, but I can't. And I know I can't control how other people see the media I like. Trigun is extremely interpretive, and I understand why this is a common conclusion. But I guess I just can't shake the feeling that it's more complicated than that. I have criticisms with trimax and ESPECIALLY 98. And there's obvi a lot id change to fit what I'd find most interesting. (Also why every headcanon revolves around Knives somehow teehee) BUUUUUT I do think all of my analysis is pretty based in canon. I can't stress how insane I am about this and how much I've thought about it 🤕🤕🤕🤕🤕. Believe me, I've considered every obstacle. And I've stayed consistent.

Knives is a raper feels like the easy answer to me. To be completely blunt, it's just not as compelling. Vash and Knives would both have very complicated relationships with their bodies and sensualities and gender and their relation to their plantself and their humanself and blah blah blah whatever. I'd much rather explore that as a separate result of the same abuse than default to supercestsimulator69. Knives is already an abuser. Making him a sexual aggressor too doesn't really add anything to the story besides diminish and dumb down his very complex motivations. Vash and Knives should be very good friends who know each other better than anyone. (They are trauma bonded like CRAAAZZY, very codependent like y'all get it.) I think that would make their conflict SO much more interesting. While providing some great context to why Vash is so willing to give every horrible person he meets a second chance at life. If I saw my brother, who I love, and is my best friend in the whole wide world, slowly deteriorate under the pressure of the abuse we we're BOTH experiencing; go fucking crazy and kill everyone. And I KNEWW. He genuinely believed he was doing what he had to do to protect the both of us...I'd probably also give everyone the benefit of the doubt idk. Vash understanding Knives' motivations but still holding on to that (justified) resentment and anger is ESSENTIAAAL to their dynamic and also literally all of Trigun. Sexual abuse throws a rock in all of this. If anything I think Knives would tell Vash "I'm the only one who WOULDN'T assault you. They're human, they'll only see you for how useful you are. It's what they do. It's what you know they do. You're choosing them over me the same way Rem chose Steve over us." Knives' abuse is complicated and multifaceted, not just some gross display of power. He's not even the most power hungry character in the world. He's got a whole cult dedicated to him that he canonically IGNORES.

And he sure as shit doesn't respect people who are desperate for power over others!! He'd think he's above that too. Just more evidence of human deviance. (Like the scene in 98 where kid Vash and Knives are watching the humans fight over water. Animals who think one is more deserving of resources than the other.) He's narcissistic in the literal diagnosable sense but definitely not some kinda megalomaniac. I think that's a huge mischaracterization. He doesn't want to rule the world, he wants to destroy it. And he wants Vash to be his equal in this, he respects Vash. (as far as someone like Knives can respect anybody at all) He doesn't understand why Vash would choose to be so "dumb" because he's never allowed himself to feel the vulnerability of potential harm that Vash wants him to understand is worth it. It's why he locks himself away from the world, he's afraid of being victimized again. Knives' morals are all over the place, he genuinely doesn't think murder is bad but would consider sexual violence to be the worst thing anyone could ever do EVER. It's not like we're talking about the beacon of reason and consistency here y'all, Knives is cray cray sauce.

Anyway that's my thoughts, sorry this took forever to answer. 😿 And ended up being SOOO long.. I've on and off mauled over this writing and rewriting again trying to make any of my garbled thoughts make any sense. Hope it resonates with anybody at least bc I genuinely feel like I've been taking crazy pills lately LOOL. Take care of yourselves everyone. 💖 Never an easy subject to talk about.

[ironboyxs]

Let me take care of you

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Male Reader

Word count: 912

p.s. this was a request from the lovely @megamonstermuffin, I'm sorry it took so long, I'm in a bit of a creative block, but I plan to write a lot next month! in fact, I want to post a list of which fandons I write for, so stay tuned. and always remembering REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!!

They were tired, but Y/N particularly was exhausted. Being an Avenger was definitely not an easy task, especially when you're not a super soldier with enormous stamina and strength greater than most people.

Y/N knew how to handle himself of course, Doctor Strange didn't take him in as his apprentice just because the boy was kind, he took him in because he was very skilled with magic. But magic can be tiring, and very tiring.

Y/N and James opened the door to their newly rented apartment, they had been living together for a month. And almost two years they were together as a couple.

Him and Bucky together was something no one predicted, not even themselves, but it was one of the best things that could have happened to both of them. Y/N was lonely, he had already learned to fend for himself on the streets of New York for some time when Stephen Strange found him, Bucky was a man out of his time, and the recent “loss” of his best friend, Steve Rogers, it made him feel even more out of place.

The two were people who didn't fit into society very well, but they found the perfect fit in each other.

"Are you okay magic boy?" - Bucky asked as soon as they arrived home.

"You know I hate that nickname" - Y/N said.

"But you're really magical" - Bucky said giving his boyfriend a kiss

Y/N liked that side of Bucky, the side of him that flirted with the boy, that was romantic, flirtatious and playful, Bucky didn't show that side to everyone.

'But seriously, you look very tired, I know today was difficult for all of us." - Bucky said again.

"Well, I may be magical but I don't have the physical resistance of a super soldier, my love."

"Come, I'll draw a bath and make our dinner."

"Bucky, there's no need, I know you're tired too".

Bucky looked seriously at his boyfriend and placed his hands on his face.

"Let me take care of you, please?"

"How can I resist those big blue eyes? Alright, let's go."

Y/N was still getting used to having someone take care of him, he had forgotten what that was like, he spent so much time taking care of himself that sometimes when people offered to help him, he felt like he was bothering them.

Bucky smiled as he looked at his boyfriend, recognizing Y/N's reluctance to accept help. He knew that his boyfriend was used to taking care of himself, but he also wanted to show that he was there to share the burden of the difficulties.

While preparing a relaxing bath, Bucky took out his phone and connected a device to the speaker, his playlist of relaxing music started playing. Soft music began to fill the apartment, creating a serene atmosphere. After a while Bucky called for his boyfriend.

"Y/N, I know it's hard to accept help sometimes, but you're not bothering me. I want to do this for you. Let me take care of you today." - He asked once again with his big, asking blue eyes.

Y/N sighed, feeling the warmth of Bucky's words. He allowed himself to accept that affectionate gesture, something that was still new to him, even after so long of the relationship.

The bath was prepared with scented salts, creating an aromatic cloud that hovered in the air. Bucky helped Y/N undress and gently led him into the hot water. He sat next to his boyfriend, gently massaging his shoulders as the water washed over them.

"Relax, my love. I'll take care of everything tonight" - Bucky said, kissing the back of his boyfriend's head.

There was another thing that Y/N couldn't get used to, in the best way possible. Whenever he felt Bucky's touches it was like he was being transported directly to paradise. His boyfriend's lips were perfect against his skin, and the mixed sensation of a flesh arm and a metal arm was incredible.

Y/N allowed himself to close his eyes, leaning against Bucky's chest. The soft music and gentle touches helped soothe his tired mind and body.

After the shower, Bucky prepared a comforting meal, something simple and delicious that they both loved. They sat at the table, sharing laughter and conversation, enjoying each other's company.

After dinner, Bucky took Y/N in his arms and carried him to the couch. He covered them with a soft blanket as they watched a movie, cuddling and exchanging subtle touches.

As the night came to an end, Y/N snuggled into Bucky's arms, feeling loved and cared for. He fell asleep with a smile on his lips, silently thankful for having someone like Bucky by his side.

That night, Bucky took care of Y/N not just with gestures, but with all the love and affection he could offer, promising to be there for his beloved, no matter the circumstances.

[ambers-archive]

Gold Rush

In which Spencer Reid believes meeting you could only be explained by something bigger under the works. pairing: spencer reid x fem!eader

From the moment he met you Spencer just knew. He was suddenly overcome with a deep certainty that transcended his skepticism about love at first sight. For him, it was more than just a fleeting moment; it was an incandescent passionate resonance that developed when he first saw you. Dopamine, serotonin, and oxytocin can only explain so much of his feelings. 

He can't sleep on plane ride, looking at the sunset as the clouds fold onto each other he finds himself reminiscing about you. 

There was much said, yet so much unsaid. 

"Do you believe in fate?" you had asked, looking up at him. 

Just breathing and staring into each other's eyes, you two were curled up together in bed. Spencer likes making eye contact with you, even though he's never been good at it. Furthermore, he doesn't even enjoy shaking hands, so he's not sure how on earth he's managed to intertwine himself with you.

Spencer chuckled skeptically, "Fate? I'm inclined to attribute this meeting to statistical probability and our friends' matchmaking skills." 

You smiled back at him, his skepticism didn't seem to bother you, instead you seemed to intertwine your emotions so easily with your beliefs. 

He studies you and realizes you don't mind your different perspectives. "People just need something to anchor them Doctor Reid."

He's come to the realization that he needed more of what you called him, Doctor Reid.

You continue, "Since there is so much evil in the world, I find myself wanting to cling to something greater. I'm sure you see a lot of incomprehensible things."  

He pauses for a second then says

"Randomness exists because it is impossible to foresee anything with 100% accuracy, at least not in the way we see the world. Yes, although there is randomness at the level of human cognition. I don't think there is any kind of "mover" or "fate." Have you heard of the theory absurdism? It's the idea held by philosophers that there is no purpose or reason in the universe. It claims that people go into conflict with the outside world when they search for significance."

You smile at him again, the same shy smile that has been making Spencer weak all day. 

“I get what you mean, but I like to believe that the universe has a purpose for me. It's as though every moment unfolds with meaning. But, recently, I've found that it’s boring to attribute everything to fate. There's a certain beauty in meeting someone and deliberately choosing them with all your intention."

This time Spencer smiles back at you, it doesn't miss him that you don't interrupt his ramblings. You're so easy to talk to he thinks. He can just get lost in your conversations. 

He pushes a piece of hair out of your face “Would you say our meeting was fate?"

You paused for a second. 

Spencer can't seem to read you as much, but he can infer that you didn't know, he smiles to himself as you're the one speechless this time.  

Spencer likes to think the universe is devoid of meaning he doesn't give much thought to the meaning behind things, but after meeting you he finds himself questioning things. 

Despite the strangeness you feel familiar to him, and your perfume still lingers in his car on the way home. He's racking his brain trying to remember what your laugh sounds like.

He likes to be in the present, but with you, you linger like a tattoo kiss. He closes his eyes and there you are again with your smile. 

The lines between fate and reason began to melt in his head, as there are very few moments he's found himself dumbfounded by the nature of things.

[sugaldean]

Super hot take. None of the Bad kids should be president and if one of them was to be it should be Fig. Actually no. Fig should be president.

Gorgug

I don't think I have to explain why Gorgug shouldn't be president? He has absolutely none of the wishes or motivations or skills associated with student president (Gorgug is my favorite don't come for me). He work on the shadow, like give revolutionary ideas out of nowhere and have iconic moment (pig cop) and inventions. But he is not head of the movement.

Adaine

Adaine would be kinda good but I don't think her anxiety would let her be that much of a public presence, also she changes things in other ways. She is thoughtful and helpful but isn't the type to make huge speeches and actions for everyday. She's part of the advisors with Riz but I don't think she would enjoy the president position.

Fabian

Fabian is party popular boy. Which is so important in your campaign to bring people's attention at first but he is not the one who make decisions. This man is incapable of memorizing a single important thought, let him be.

Riz

Riz would be good. But Riz tend to push his ideals on other people, they are amazing for him and I love him more than anything but I feel like he would push and push kids who just don't want to do good in school or succeed you know? Also I think Riz is perfect for advising/managing, he is smart, not so good with people even if he loves clubs, strategic, etc

Now. My top two candidates mostly because of how fucking interesting being president would be for their personal arc

Kristen

Yeah she's a mess, yeah she has no planning skills. But. Helio doesn't make mistake. She was the chosen one, she wanted to bring people in the light. Was she wrong then? Yes of course.

But Kristen has that power to rally people, she is kind beyond limit, she is impulsive in a way that is so original, she see things people don't see and her mind twist things in new ways.

This is why she could be good. Because if chaos is sometimes too much, knowing how to take a problem and make a solutions by looking at it through the complete opposite way can help people go through more things than they ever thought.

Fig

Now. There's a fricking president. Always thinks about other people's need. Listen to her advisors. Isn't scare to take the fall. Good time and stress management. She knows basically every class and their issues.

Does she like school? No. But she likes students. Is she an anarchist? Yeah but basically everyone is at Aguefort so she's even more perfect.

Does Fig wants the spotlight? Yes. She's scared of it, probably in a way scared of steeling it and being too much. But she deserves it. She deserves to scream her ideas and to be listened. Fig Faeth, paladin of students. Devoted to her friends, fighting for the greater good.