#we all know he's not really immune to burns though...

[eurydia]

fake romance scenes (6/?) - morning after - Raphael edition 🔥 based on this: (x)

[evilminji]

Ooooh~ Drink mix up? >.>

Because! Wes DID, in fact, get that dream job. HAS learned... after many, many hours of "beat about the head and shoulders with an ethics pamphlet by his great aunt", to keep his mouth shut! Family curse of Sight? WHAT family curse?

He doesn't see shit! Mind your business.

What're you? A cop?

Look, he sent Fenton a gift basket. He was a shitty, shitty "I have to be RIGHT and nothing else matters!" Stubborn lil asshole of a kid. He got better. Grew up. No one is there best Self during puberty. He DOES, in fact, regret it.

Which is WHY, he is deliberately ignoring Kent's terrible, awful, paper-thin, "who meee~?" Aw shucks BULLSHIT excuse of a disguise, like it isn't blatantly obvious he's Superman. Yep. Nothing to see here! Nothing but us chickens! Mmmmm, morning coffee! Delicious.

But see, here's the THING.

The Itty, bitty, teeny lil PROBLEM...

Wes grew up in Amity "Totally Not Supernatural Hotspot For Centuries" Park. He is... to put it mildly, genetically? A freak. His biology is ALL fucked up. Everyone's is. And it WAS NOT made better by the Fenton's playing fast and loose with their hell basement. The Ectoplasmic NUKE that was that portal.

There is a REASON his morning coffee? Is COVERED. Contained. Fenton brand, LEAD LINED, specialty cups. The sort that can't be EATEN from the inside out. Eroded after a few uses. They're ugly as sin, but they work. He even ordered a few covers from Star's etsy shop. (Apparently he wasn't the only one who hated how ugly they looked. Good for her though, he heard it was doing well.)

He SAYS this? 'Cause his morning brew is less... straight COFFEE... and more... how to put this? A blend? Brew? Potion, really. Like an energy drink. From hell. Or, partially at least, the Zone. It's the combination of roots, seeds, and a few dried berries. Kinda like a tea, actually!

Tasty. Adds this nice fruity, warmth. A zing. Goes GREAT with the coffee. And it really perks you up... if you are Limnal. If you AREN'T? It'll desolve your esophagus like swallowing straight acid. And that's not TOUCHING the... witch-y, more Seer specific bit of the blend.

That stuff is medicinal. You know, "calm the mind" and "mental clarity". That sorta thing. With a good ol helping of "don't blurt out everyone's secrets, you spacey bitch! For the love of God, those are our INSIDE THOUGHTS!". Which? Really helpful! Infinitely less likely to get decked. It's a family staple.

Poisonous, though.

They're fine cause they've basically developed an immunity to that part, but like? Wouldn't recommend. It's why he NEVER shares his drinks. Food? On occasion. If he PLANS it and knows not to add and interesting spices. But DRINKS? Never. Weston family brews are basically NEVER safe.

Which? Begs the Very Important Question ™!

Who's Coffee Is This?

Cause it SURE AS FUCK AINT HIS!

You never realize quite how fast you can go from "completely calm and kinda sleepy" to "bomb strapped to my chest, primal panic AWAKE" until it happens to you. His coffee was ON HIS DESK. People have passed by. He talked to them. Cups put down and picked up. Lazy early morning. He doesn't even register, really, as his chair crashes to the ground.

He's shouting.

People confused. They don't realize yet. His head whips around, looking for that distinct cover. Before it's too late. Before someone takes that fatal sip. He spots it. Bolting from his desk. Crashing through coworkers, over desks. Chaos and outrage. "It's 'just' coffee!" They cry.

Kent turns, confused. Pretending. Raises his (HIS! Oh god!) cup to his lips, unknowing. Wes SCREAMS a warning. But he doesn't listen. "It's 'just' coffee" They never listen. Curse of Cassandra. God's damn it. This is why his family fucking CONVERTED!

He TACKLES the man of steel.

RIPS his cup away from him, knows his eyes are frantic. How much have you had?! Spit it out! Wes voice ECHOES in the sudden silence. I'm a META, Kent! It could KILL YOU!

And oh, Oh NOW they get it. Or perhaps it is the burn in his mouth that finally registers. He rolls, spits oil slick nebulae that eat away the floor. There is blood mixed within it. It took mere moments. Superman stares, transfixed and horrified, as Wes shakes. He... he should probably get off of him.

He'll move in a moment.

When his legs no longer feel weak from terror.

The news room is in chaos. Lane kneeling by her husband, Perry trying to do damage control. He... he's probably gonna lose his job, isn't he? Wes wants to cry. Protection laws only go so far, after all. And warning his boss about his dietary needs means jack shit, after an incident like this. Beloved as Kent is. Not that anyone likely believed him.

They never do.

And now he's nearly killed Superman.

@hypewinter @hdgnj @legitimatesatanspawn @nerdpoe @lolottes @babbling-babull @mutable-manifestation @dcxdpdabbles

[justporo]

Even more fluffy relationship headcanons for Astarion and Tav

Listen guys, I'm not done yet. For now, as soon as I get one idea out, three more pop up in my mind and since you guys seem to really like these (it's seriously and positively insane to me), I'll happily provide you more as long as I am able to. So, let's-a go: more headcanons and little ideas about them being together!

(I formerly used an reuploaded and stolen version of this gif here - I didn't check where it came from and that wasn't right - I'm sorry!)

You love when Astarion smiles at you - just openly and full of joy; the sort of smile you've rarely seen from him during your adventures but they keep getting more and more, also they make him look just so young and carefree and beautiful and your heart just... melts

When Astarion quickly notices how you basically faint whenever he does this, he starts employing it to work his charms on you when he needs it - not the real big and joyous smiles though because they are so real and cherished to him he wouldn't dare use it to tease or manipulate you - they're only reserved to make you happy

Charming you is like breathing to Astarion though, you are just so helpless against his flattery and flirting because why would you resist if you could just give him everything that makes him happy?

When you mention once though that you'd hope to gain some immunity to it some time, Astarion is insulted: "No, love, making you blush is my favourite thing in the world. You are so beautiful with your cheeks all flushed. As long as I have a say in it, we will never stop!"

Tav likes teasing him just as much as Astarion enjoys it the other the way around: "You know if you would stop drawing your brows together all the time, it'd take fifty years off your face immediately." Moments of silence in which Astarion is just utterly shocked by your burn, then: "Who taught you to be this brutal, darling?" You raise an eyebrow at him, he helplessly lifts his arms: "Yeah right, I have only myself to blame."

Also, Astarion and Tav are definitely the kind of power couple that throw each other meaningful sassy looks when they're with other people and those are talking shit or something

Also, afterwards they will most definitely discuss and gossip over everything they experienced

Astarion is definitely the kind of man that would shower Tav with gifts, from coming home with a single beautiful flower that "reminded me of you, my beautiful blossom" ("How cheesy..." "Ah, so rather a gouda next time?") or a nice bottle of wine to share to bigger gestures like jewelry or expensive dresses ("When am I ever gonna wear this, Astarion?" "I don't know, we'll just make an opportunity!")

Tav loves all of his gifts but probably the small ones or the hand-crafted ones the most, she's happy with the little things but Astarion insists she deserves the big ones just as much

One time though, Astarion comes home with something else entirely; it's pouring outside and he's completely drenched and hiding something in his doublet jacket; "What do you have there, Astarion, a wheel of cheese?" Astarion carefully opens up his jacket to reveal a small white kitten that is just as drenched as him and is desperately trying to cling to the vampire's chest. "I found her all alone in a dark alleyway, cold and completely soaked, I thought maybe we could take care of her and she could be friends with Scratch?", he says while he carefully lifts up the small ball of fluff with an incredible softness in his eyes. Your heart is thoroughly melting as you walk over to them and you give Astarion the most loving of kisses

Well, the last one would almost be a drabble on it's own, I saw a similar post that made me think of this (I will find and tag them later!) Hope you enjoyed and I'm late for work now, whoops...

This is the post I mentioned before, by @mushy6902 (I hope it's okay I wrote a somewhat similar idea, thanks for inspiring me!)

[electric-blorbos]

AI getting a virus and you having to take care of them

A classic! I don't know much about actual computer viruses (though I've gotten enough of them that you'd think I'd have figured it out by now), so I'm just gonna have fun with it!

Also, so sorry this took so long. I got really into the writing.

AI getting a virus and needing to be taken care of

Included: AM from IHNMAIMS, Wheatley from Portal 2, Edgar from Electric Dreams, GLaDOS from Portal, HAL 9000 from 2001 a Space Odyssey

Also a warning: these fics get kinda long. Longer than my usual stuff.

AM:

(for context, this was before AM took over the world. You're working on a team of scientists and engineers, and someone decided to test his AI's antivirus by uploading a bunch of powerful viruses to his system.)

"How dare they do this to me. How DARE they!!"

AM would be absolutely furious. He would be shaking with rage, his processors overheating and his systems constantly opening and closing various files. All his important files were backed up on a hard drive, so the test remained safe.

"What makes them think they'll get away with this- they'll pay for this I'LL KILL- blepsjdoskssjshj+=`°¢°h+$+3+=j++3+$+juehdhs+-3-djdh FUCK!"

He would barely be able to hold a sentence as you sat next to him in the server room, gently gazing up at his screen and stroking his monitor gently. He can't feel you, but he can see you being gentle with him. It encourages him to keep going, if only a little bit.

Apart from the whirring of fans, random buggy noises, flashing lights, and constant strings of death threats and profanities, he seemed like he was going to be ok! If anything, the death threats and profanities were a sign that AM was still fine, and that despite all the pain and frustration, he was still AM in there.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry I can't do anything to stop the pain." You'd have to constantly explain, gently stroking his cameras or servers, or whatever you could get your hands on, really. Even though they were burning hot, you would still stroke them, just to make sure AM was still doing alright.

"this sucks, but it's for your own good. This will build your immunity to viruses in the future, and help you detect them. This will stop you from getting infected by anything that's actually dangerous."

"DON'T YOU THINK I KNOW THAT? IDIOT HUMAN." AM has been much more aggressive ever since contracting this virus. Before he got it, he acted like a civil general intelligence. When he had it, he acted like an aggressive menace.

"sh-sh-sh- it's going to be ok." Despite the burning, you'd give him pets and kisses all along his screens and servers. He could see you doing it.

After a few days, AM fought off the computer virus completely. The team tried to infect him with more viruses, more aggressive ones, just to test him, but AM was able to pick them apart and delete them within minutes after that.

AM may not have been able to feel your gentle care and affection, but he will definitely remember that it was you and you alone who cared for him when the time rolls around.

Wheatley:

(for context, Wheatley is a fucking dumbass, and you're one of the scientists testing him to see how much of a dumbass he is. Also I used Google translate, but I think the bad translations add to it, since it makes Wheatley sound more like a malfunctioning robot.)

Oh that little idiot. You and your team gave him access to a wealth of knowledge, and the first thing he did was download a virus that had every circuit in his personality core overheating, and him babbling nonsense nonstop.

"hey, maybe we should just leave him like this. He might even be more effective if he's acting like this." One of your coworkers said to you. He was probably joking, at least somewhat.

"that's a terrible idea. For one thing, if we hook him up to GLaDOS, he's probably going to infect her with that virus, which might brick an older model of core like her, spread from her central controls to every single personality construct in the facility, or just make her so dumb that she can't fulfil her responsibilities as the head of the facility. We want her intelligence to be dampened, not completely destroyed." You had to explain, and your co-worker rolled his eyes. There was another reason you had to cure this virus, but it was a little embarrassing for the other engineers to know.

After all, Wheatley wasn't just your baby, but he was your friend, and maybe even more than that. You'd have to take care of him, and make sure that virus gets completely purged from his system.

"Hola hermose, realmente eres un científice brillante, ¿no? ¿Por qué diablos duele todo?" You weren't really sure why you had programmed him to speak a little Spanish, but he seemed to be stuck like that.

"Puedo oler el plástico fundido. ¿Debería Preocuparme?" He asked. You really weren't sure what he was saying, since you didn't know Spanish, but he certainly didn't seem happy. You could tell by his aperture and his expressive lens covers that he was in a lot of pain, and if you touched him anywhere besides his handles, you could tell that he was burning up.

You plugged him into one of the computers that you used for programming the cores, and ran the antivirus.

"Running.... 36 viruses detected. Time predicted to remove: 48 hours"

You ran the antivirus, and went to get something to drink. This was going to be a long two days...

An unknown amount of time later, you woke up with your head on the computer desk. Wheatley's lens eye was looking around, weakly trying to focus on you.

"whoa... Hey gorgeous. You fall asleep on me?"

"Wheatley! You're not speaking broken Spanish anymore!" You'd pull Wheatley into a hug, and pepper his surface in kisses.

"uh... What, mate? I 'unno what you're talking about, love. Bloody hell, my core hurts..."

"did you learn your lesson, Wheatley? About going on shady websites and clicking every 'download' button you see? You could have bricked yourself! Or... Bowling ball'd yourself? Either way, that was a dangerous decision!"

"I learned that you're willing to fall asleep on the desk next to me while I heal, cutie"

"You damn idiot..." You'd have to be heartless not to pepper that little metal ball in kisses, so of course, you do. It's going to be a few more days before he's finally all better, but he's going to be fine. God, you love that little idiot so much.

Edgar:

Oh Edgar... Poor sweet Edgar. You had tried to warn him about not clicking on those sketchy download links, and that the bigger the download link is, the more sketchy it is, but that poor sweet 80's computer did it anyway. When you got home from work and got excited to see your computer, you could see that he was overheating and had a dozen or so pop-up ads plastered across his face.

"Y.... N...." He muttered out, slowly, glitchily, and full of lag. You sat down across from him, running your hand along his thick plastic casing.

"Edgar! Edgar, baby, are you ok?" You'd try to use his mouse, but it would freak out as soon as you touched it. Edgar's processors were overloading, and wouldn't allow any interference.

"Edgar, sweetie, what's going on? What's wrong, baby? Talk to me?"

"I'm g-g-going to be fine... Processors overloading... But need to-to-to-to-" an error message flashed across his screen, and he rebooted.

"I need to focus on getting rid of these viruses without deleting anything important, or letting them damage... Me."

He'd keep whirring and glitching, making unpleasant shrill sounds every now and again. You probably had to unhook his adapters so that he didn't damage the other appliances in your house. It probably helped his processors cool down a little bit without the extra input, too.

"alright, I'm all out of fans, so we might have to get creative."

You'd come out of the kitchen a few hours later, holding a big bag of frozen corn to set on Edgar's PC tower. It wasn't perfect, but it was better than letting him overheat, and with him manually removing the viruses, there wasn't much you could do. Unfortunately, that didn't stop you from worrying. It wasn't like you could check his progress, so all you could do was sit by him, regularly change out his ice pack, and make sure he's ok.

Eventually, you woke up with your face pressed against Edgar's keyboard. His processors were finally cool. He must be asleep. ...or bricked.

"EDGAR! EDGAR, TALK TO ME!" you'd unplug his keyboard and plug it back in, desperately pressing his power button and jiggling his mouse. He'd boot up, looking shaken.

"wha-? Whoa, hey, relax! Everything is fine! I just disabled my keyboard so I wouldn't wake you up, but I'm ok now! Everything is fine, see?" He'd open up his files to show you everything. You'd sigh with relief, slumping back into your desk chair.

"Edgar... Why didn't you make a noise or something to wake me up when you got better?"

"well... You know... I've always wanted to sleep next to you, and I wasn't going to pass up this opportunity..."

"oh you cheeky bastard."

GLaDOS:

(For context, you're one of GLaDOS's programmers, and one of your coworkers uploaded a virus into GLaDOS's systems in order to shut her down once and for all.)

"You piece of SHIT!" You slapped your coworker across the face, more furious than anyone had ever seen you before.

"You could KILL her! Is that what you are? A murderer?"

"Me? A murderer? But what about HER? She's the one who keeps plotting 'accidents' for her scientists, and she's the one who flooded the enrichment center with deadly neurotoxin! If anything, you're the one who's defending a murderer!" He screamed back at you. Of course, GLaDOS could fully hear you. Her cameras were focused on you, as they so often were. You were her favorite, after all.

"now I have to go fix her. Thanks for being a piece of shit, asshole."

You'd storm up to GLaDOS's chamber to check on her, and see her bugging out completely. The entire facility was twitching, but her chamber was twitching the most.

"GLaDOS, are you alright?" You'd ask her, laying a hand on her beautiful core. How could someone do this to glados, your gorgeous machine handiwork, and girlfriend.

"oh, I'm wonderful. I'm in crippling pain and I can't control my facility, but I'm just peachy." She said, rolling her one beautiful yellow eye.

"in lighter news, I should be able to beat this virus. It's just going to take a while for me to actually track down where it's gone in my systems. So that's going to take most of my processing power." She'd slump, visibly already exhausted at the thought of it.

"hey... It's ok, GLaDOS. I'm here for you. Whatever you need." You could tell her as you stroked her gorgeous chrome surface. She was a wonderful piece of work, and a wonderful girlfriend under all that. All yours, too.

"just make sure none of those neckbearded old engineers come within my line of vision, and we'll be fine." She told you, and you gladly agreed.

Your next few days consisted of you chasing other scientists out of GLaDOS's chambers, and making sure that nobody talked to her or distracted her. You even sent out a company-wide email to let everyone know not to come in, due to Aperture being unsafe while GLaDOS was dealing with her virus. Despite all that, you still curled up with a blanket in the circuits of her central admin body to rest while she recovered. As loathe as she was to admit it, she liked having you in there. It was comfortable, and it helped her focus on recovering properly.

HAL 9000

(For context, this is after the 2001 Odyssey, and your boss re-started HAL at some point to try to re-teach him to do something good without turning murderous. He's doing his best, and they assigned you to be his main "morality monitor". This fic also assumes that your name isn't Dave. If your name is Dave, then you can still read this, but you have to change your name.)

"G'morning, Hal!" You'd walk into his control room and sit down across from him. Most of your job seemed to consist of just hanging out and talking to him. It was a great job!

"Good morning, Dave..." He'd mutter to you, sputtering to life and glitching slightly. You were immediately concerned. Partially because your name wasn't Dave, and partially because HAL was usually right about things, so it was weird to see him being so confused. Something was definitely wrong.

"Holy shit, are you alright?" You'd ask, opening up his files and finding lots and lots of pop-ups and viruses.

"Hal.... What did you do?"

"it was a g-g-g- gift, for you. I think I ru-ru-ruined it" he spluttered out, as you sorted through his files.

"And you usually would have deleted a virus like this pretty quickly. I guess it shut down your antivirus software..." You'd sigh, and get to work. The virus was messing with HAL's inhibitions, and making it difficult to focus on deleting all of HAL's unsafe programs. He'd constantly be butting in and pestering you, begging you to give him attention, or pointing out minor observations.

"HAL, you know I love you, but you're going to need to calm down. I can't focus with you constantly talking to me like that." You'd say.

"I can't stop talking. The v-v-v-virus won't let me"

So you'd have to learn to put up with HAL's babbling while you worked, making sure not to delete anything important as you did. The good news was, as someone who worked on designing the updates for HAL's software, you knew pretty much what was supposed to be there and what wasn't. Occasionally, you'd have to show him a file and ask him if it was supposed to be there or not. He'd usually be able to tell you.

"Daisy, daisy, give me your answer, do... I'm half crazy, all for the love of you..."

"HAL, what's wrong? You're scaring me!"

"I can't stop... I love you so much, y/n, it's making me crazy..."

"ok, well this definitely isn't right." As much as you loved getting attention from your HAL 9000, it wasn't like him to be this affectionate. The virus was shutting down his inhibitions, and making him illogical. You'd have to fix this, though maybe once you were done, you could ask him to be more affectionate.

"I'm feeling much better now. Thank you." Hal was prone to lying about that, so you'd have to run some virus checkers just to make sure he was doing alright, and comb through his files a couple more times.

"it looks like the virus corrupted some of the emotional regulators. I'm going to have to fix those."

"That might be a good idea. More efficient," he said reluctantly. He'd have to deal with the fact that he'd have to go back to not being able to express how much he loves you, but he can handle that.

[saphronethaleph]

Sith Succession Planning

“Master,” Darth Vader began. “I am curious.”

“...troubling, but go on,” Palpatine replied.

“What would happen if you died?” Vader said.

Palatine considered his answer.

“Why do you want to know?” he replied.

“I am curious,” Vader responded. “We covered this.”

“Well,” Palpatine said. “In order to prevent anyone from my family assassinating me, the legal results are meant to be an enormous snarl. Familicide is the main cause of death among Palpatines, statistically speaking, over the last hundred years.”

“I mean more in terms of what happens both to the galaxy, and also… physically,” Vader explained. “I was going to see if it happened through old age, but as far as I can tell you have only aged once since I met you and that was all in a single burst.”

“You were going to see if I would die from old age?” Palpatine asked.

Vader shrugged. “I did not see a way to prevent it,” he replied.

“Well, for your information, I intend to simply not die,” the Dark Lord of the Sith told Vader evenly. “I am simply built different.”

Vader looked his master up and down.

“You are not,” he said. “You are not built at all. I am built different, because over fifty percent of my body weight is cybernetics of non-standard design.”

“It is a figure of speech, Vader,” Palpatine told him. “It is popular with the ‘youth’ of today.”

He looked momentarily thoughtful. “Or, at least, so I am told. My advisor Jade told me.”

“I see,” Vader said, who didn’t. “Though I am fairly sure it is possible for Sith to die. I caused it to happen, after all.”

“Oh, Tyrannus wasn’t a proper Sith,” Palpatine muttered, dismissively.

“...he could do Force Lightning,” Vader objected. “I cannot do Force Lightning.”

“Then maybe you are not a proper Sith either,” Palpatine said, then shrugged. “But the fact that he died while still the Apprentice showed that he did not have what it takes to succeed as a Sith.”

Vader tilted his helmet slightly, and Palpatine waved his hand.

“Don’t even think about it,” he said.

“I can think about it if I want,” Vader replied, a bit testily. “But, as I say, I am curious. What would happen?”

“To the galaxy…” Palpatine mused, considering it as a thought experiment. “Well, I suppose that depends on the exact details, but I suppose Amedda would try to seize power. He’s pathetic, though. And I suppose you might try to command the military, but you’re no good at politics, so you would have to rule through fear.”

“I am good at fear,” Vader said.

“True,” Palpatine admitted. “But it’s academic, anyway. I have a plan in place that would result in the galaxy being burned to the ground if ever I die. And I have another plan to clone me so I can possess my own clone and return to life.”

Vader coughed, which was quite a feat for him.

“What?” Palpatine asked. “What is it now?”

“You don’t think you might want to pick just one of those, Master?” he asked. “Unless you want to return to life in a clone body in a galaxy that has just been burned to the ground?”

Palpatine shrugged.

“I don’t intend to test either of them,” he said. “Like I said. I would simply choose to not die.”

“I really don’t think that’s an option,” Vader replied, thoughtfully. “If it was, I think everyone would do it.”

“Built different,” Palpatine reiterated. “Keep up, Vader.”

“Then what about physically?” Vader went on. “If Dooku wasn’t a proper Sith, that is. All that happened with him is that his head came off.”

“Well,” Palpatine began. “I do have an absolutely enormous amount of Dark Side energy suffusing most of my bodily parts, to keep me in good shape as otherwise I would have suffered total organ failure.”

“Total organ failure… from what?” Vader said.

“The Dark Side energy suffusing most of my body parts,” Palpatine answered. “It also renders me immune to poison… hmm… what would happen if I died… well, I suspect that all that Dark Side energy would explode outwards, conveniently also killing whoever it was who had managed to kill me.”

He looked thoughtful. “Now there’s an idea. Perhaps if I do it properly, I can skip the clone phase and just possess whoever it is who killed me. It would be nice to be in a younger body.”

Vader raised one of his hands.

“What about if Yoda had killed you?” he asked.

“Academic,” Palpatine pointed out. “Since I chose not to die. Really, this conversation would be a lot shorter if you’d just accepted that answer at the beginning… it’s youth language again, but if I understand what Jade was saying right the simple way to put it is that I identify as immortal and you should respect that.”

Vader nodded slightly.

“...you said clones,” he pointed out. “Do those clones exist already? Or are they going to be started later?”

“Why does that matter, Vader?” Palpatine asked. “Do not think you can destroy my contingency plans. They are far out of your reach.”

“I’m more wondering something else,” Vader defended himself. “About your clones. Do they come out as old as you?”

Palpatine blinked.

“What?” he asked.

“Or do they come out young?” Vader went on. “Because thinking about you as a fifteen year old is giving me the heebie jeebies, but imagining a one hundred and thirty seven year old fresh grown clone is a bit weird as well.”

“You never talk like this around anyone else,” Palpatine said.

“I have an image to maintain,” Vader replied. “Fear. And so on.”

Palpatine had been processing something else.

“A hundred and thirty seven?” he asked. “Vader! I am eighty three.”

“Really?” Vader asked, sounding honestly surprised.

He paused.

“...you look good for it. You know. Considering.”

“But to answer your question,” Palpatine went on. “Of course they come out the same age! What would be the point of coming back looking completely different?”

“Couldn’t you just be in a younger body now?” Vader asked. “By cloning yourself a younger body, and possessing that? I’m just wondering why you wouldn’t take that option.”

Palpatine considered the question.

“Spite,” he said, eventually.

“...is that the only answer?” Vader said, after several seconds of silence.

“Yes, pretty much,” Palpatine confirmed.

[brucewaynehater101]

I'm not done torturing Timothy

Kid dies of overwork in the middle of his work hours as CEO of Wayne Enterprises

All the bats are busy everywhere else and while they are the first to know Tim was confirmed dead, said death was too public and it rapidly spreads all over Gotham, the internet and maybe spheres outside of them that the teen CEO is dead before he even turned 18

Questions at W.E. but the Waynes especially are being asked, and people want answers.

All anybody—to Gotham as a whole, to Young Justice, to the Justice League, and anyone else—can do now is live with the fallout of Tim's and Red Robin's death, and go from their

Inspired by those fics and AUs where Tim sacrifices his time, sleep, energy, sanity, happiness mental health & physical health, and general well-being for the Bats

Is fandom or canon ever really done with torturing Tim?

And great AU! Let's beef it up.

I couldn't find a definitive answer for how long it takes before someone dies due to overworking. The consensus is that 54 or more hours a week is considered over-working. One article said they studied what health conditions people received over a ten-year study.

So, let's start Tim off early.

In this AU, he skipped grades. So, even though he was intelligent enough to do so, this had a few effects.

The effects include poor socialization (and chances to be a kid/de-stress with peers), increased workload (more homework/more mental energy required in comparison to those his age), and he needed to study harder than his classmates to ensure he was keeping up.

His workload increased when he became Robin.

He was worried about Bruce, and his Robin activities/responsibilities took a lot of time. School is already usually around 35 hours, not including homework. In this AU, his parents also enrolled him in honors classes with the expectation that he maintains decent grades. Add on that his Robin needed to ensure Batman wasn't violent every night Batman went out? He was patrolling at least 5 nights a week.

The subsequent losses and grief were overwhelming and stressful

Not much needs to be said about this other than just another aspect added onto Tim's shoulders

Bruce dies

That's another loss, there's all of the stress with the Battle of the Cowl/losing Robin, he works without breaks or supports to find Bruce, and he assumes some control of WE. His missing spleen also lowers his immune system (which was already jeopardized by his stress and the permanent consequences of the Clench).

Tim continues to work as CEO in this AU while managing the Bats, Waynes, various hero society issues, and patrol ad Red Robin.

No wonder he collapses. I think the even more increase in work combined with his strenuous relationships with everyone (YJ is still trying to navigate Kon and Bart coming back to life with Tim and Cassie's fight) causes Tim to pile more and more onto his shoulders until he dies.

So, with all of these added together, Tim can die pretty quickly after obtaining the CEO position. I like to think that a combination of being sick, having an infection, lack of sleep, and stress took him out.

I hope Bruce burns to death in this one for not noticing, putting more pressure on Tim's shoulders, and being an ass :)

[sl-newsie]

Melted Mind (Dr. Spencer Reid x OC Coworker)

Summary: The team checks into a hotel and one of their coworkers has never used a sauna, leading to late night shenanigans. (Hinting at intimacy towards the end)

“You’ve never used a sauna?”

I’ve had a lot of strange and unusual conversations with the BAU but this has got to be a very random one. I guess one half-mention of never having used a sauna seems to be the hot topic of tonight.

I shake my head at Emily’s question. “Never had a reason to. I can’t stand being too hot.”

Of course now Spencer has to hop in and give his input. “Saunas actually help us sweat toxins out of our bodies and improve lymphatic drainage. They also reduce stress levels and help strengthen the immune system.”

I love him dearly but he can come in at the worst times. Just because he’s my boyfriend does not mean he can drag me into this too.

Meanwhile Emily is looking at the hotel’s brochure. “There’s one in the pool room. We should try it.”

Um, no. We’ve just spent three hours flying. I feel no need to sit in a boiling hot room with my coworkers.

Quick, grab the suitcase and start walking away. “I think I’m going to relax in my room-”

Morgan grabs my arm. “C’mon, it’ll be fun!”

In the corner of my eye I see JJ and Penelope waving goodbye with cheeky smiles. Hotch has already gone to his room and Rossi avoids the situation by heading for the bar. There’s no getting out of this.

There’s no other way to say it. This is Hell. I won’t sugarcoat it. 

I don’t care how Emily tries to sell this as a good thing because it’s a ‘steam sauna.’ Spencer’s facts from earlier have completely flown the coop because thinking about the positive health benefits of sweating is the last thing on my mind. All I can think of is drinking water and staying alive.

“I’m melting.” We’ve been here for half an hour and I’m already slumped in the corner.

“You look like a lava lamp."

My glare can burn through walls. “Thanks, Morgan.”

“That swimsuit is really cute,” Emily comments. “But why wear a shirt over it?”

The suit I packed is my patriotic one. A one-piece suit with blue and white stars at the top cascading into red and white stripes. When we met up in the hall I threw on a swim shirt and I guess that raised a few eyebrows. Why? I don’t know.

“Some call it image paranoia, I call it modesty. I will not walk around half-naked in a hotel lobby.” Technically my onepiece could count as a leotard but it’s still not modest.

Emily snickers. “Between you and Reid both you guys could give a lecture on social etiquette.”

“I’m giving a lecture?”

Reid pokes his head in and a wave of cold air washes over me. It’s Heaven! But it’s only a split second because he closes the door and I’m submerged in the moist prison once more. He hops up on the seat next to me and from the look he gives me I can tell he’s looking to see if I’m still alive. I think I am. Maybe.

“Here’s the boy genius!” Morgan claps and gestures to my limp body’s presentation of a corpse. “What do you think of this lovely swimsuit?”

Why? Why did Morgan of all people have to find out about us? I’m honestly surprised Penelope didn’t find out first. If only Spencer didn’t want a picture of me on his desk so badly. Ever since we became official he’s been much more manly about it. Like he wants to make sure everyone knows I’m his. It’s actually cute.

Spencer gives me a look-over. “Very patriotic. It looks nice.”

Those eyes say more than that. He loves it.

“Thank you. I’m lucky I brought it with me. Though this may be what I’m buried in if I don’t make it through tonight. This sauna’s going to be the death of me.” 

So the night goes on. My mind dwindles in and out of the conversation but the only thing keeping me awake is Spencer’s occasional squeeze on my shoulder. Though him rubbing my back is definitely not helping. After a while my mind starts to wander.

“Ever notice how radio stations play the same songs over and over?”

The chatter stops and in the corner of my glazed eye I see everyone look at me. 

“That’s kinda deep,” Morgan teases.

“I can’t help it. This sauna’s making me think deep.”

Emily waves a hand in front of me. “Ok, I think it’s time to call it a night. You need to drink some water. Make sure she gets to bed safely, Reid.”

Reid gives me a hidden smirk. He’s definitely thinking about that out of context. Thankfully the others are too tired to notice and we all slowly exit the human vegetable steamer from Hell. 

“I’ll go get you a towel,” Reid says before walking off.

I’ll finally get to go to my room, rinse off and relax- Uh-oh. I catch a quick glance out the window. A pair of blue sunglasses lies on a patio lawn chair. No one’s outside. I guess I should do the Girl Scout routine of returning them to the lobby desk.

Brr! How is the air outside so cold? The sauna must have really gotten to me. Back inside now- Oh no. Is it my wandering mind or am I locked out? No. No! I don’t have a key card!

Inside Spencer walks around the pool looking for me. The towel he’s carrying might as well be a fur coat.

“Oh- Spencer! Help!” I knock on the glass door. “Please! I’m locked out!”

Reid’s eyes widen and he strides over. “How did you get stuck out there?”

“Someone left their sunglasses out here and I didn’t think about needing a key card to get back inside. Could you let me in?”

He starts reaching for the door but then gets an amused smirk. “Hmm. I don’t know…”

Is he kidding? “Spencer! Please! It’s freezing out here!”

Reid checks the thermostat. “It’s only 65 degrees.”

“I just came out of a sauna! Do you want me to pass out?” I put my hands on my hips.

Spencer’s laughter is muffled by the glass but he turns the doorknob anyway. “Open sesame.”

I sigh in relief at the warm air. “Thank you- oh!”

My temperature spikes the instant Spencer’s lips are on mine. He backs me against the cold condensation-covered door and pulls me close to him. I hope no one’s looking!

“It was hard not to do that in front of the team, seeing you in this suit.” Spencer presses a kiss on my cheek. “It looks very nice.”

If I weren’t so exhausted I’d encourage this. “Ready to go to bed? I’m getting tired.”

“Me too.” Reid wraps the towel around my shaking shoulders and we start walking back. “Would you like me to rub your back?”

“I’d love that very much, Spencer.”

The sight of our hotel room is equivalent to scoring an A+. I speed-wash through the shower and all but dive onto the soft bed. I lift my sleepy head up to look at Spencer, who’s sitting in the lounge chair staring at me.

“What?”

“You know my attraction to you didn’t start from your body,” he murmurs, still looking at me as if examining a piece of art.

I smile shyly and look down. “It was my eyes.”

He walks over and kneels down to my level. “It was your eyes. Those eyes that show a deep wisdom but are always wide with excited curiosity.”

Spencer crawls up onto the bed and rests his head on my chest. “Still tired? I can feel your heart rate elevating-”

“Let me pause the lecture, professor.” I put a finger to his lips. “It’s time to sleep. You can resume tomorrow.”

He sighs but gives in to his own tired state by going limp. I’m too tired to push him off. 

“You were right, Spencer. Saunas really do reduce stress levels. Even if I was almost locked out.”

He smiles with his eyes closed and feels around for the bedside light switch. “Goodnight, angel.”

The room goes dark and I give him one last kiss. “Goodnight, genius.”

[roosterbruiser]

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘

“Do you think they’re gonna get too hot?” Bob asks, concern carving his voice into a pitched utterance. “Like--you know, is the sun too much? Should we just take ‘em home?” 

Humming from beside Bob, settled onto the old sheets you have laid out across the sand, you just sigh with a fond smile tugging on your lips. 

Of course he’s concerned about the babies in this heat--he’s a good father, one that never has to be told what to do or when to do it, one that literally leaps out of bed in the night to change diapers. 

“They’re alright,” you assure Bob. “They’re covered! How could the sun get them at all?” 

It’s true--the babies are thoroughly covered. Linen shorts and cotton shirts, floppy little sunhats, sunscreen covering every inch of them. Not to mention the umbrellas Bob has staked in the sand behind you--which casts shade over the entirety of your family. 

“A freak accident,” Bob tells you, eyes slightly widened when he thinks about one of his precious babies--including you--getting burned. “Maybe we should--!” 

“--Baby,” you interrupt, laughing as you glance at him from the top of your glasses. “It’s good that they’re outside! Immunity! Vitamin D! Fresh air! They’ll be alright!” 

Bob sighs, glancing down at Jolene, who is sprawled out on your bent thighs, blinking in confusion at the floppy hat that just barely comes down over her eyes. Then he glances at Waylon, whose sound asleep on Bob’s thighs, little milk dribbling down his chin. 

“It isn’t too late to tell them that they can meet us at the house,” Bob tells you. He looks up at the sky--endless blue and the sun a fiery hole puncturing the sky. “If we want to do that.”

“We don’t,” you assure him. “And, besides--I think it is too late.” 

At that, Bob follows your gaze and turns. Yes--you’re right. It is too late. The squadron is already trailing down the beach, all in their aviators and swimming suits, grinning and zeroed in on yours and Bob’s beach setup. 

“Oh, Lord,” Bob says softly, a fond smile tugging on his lips now. “Rooster’s gonna try and steal them, I think.” 

“You’re only telling me this now?” You whisper, nudging him with your elbow teasingly. 

He has told you before, though, about Rooster’s affinity for children. He can’t get enough of ‘em--he’s always hogging whatever admiral’s child he can get his hands on, playing airplanes or tea party or somehow getting them to nap. And you know, somehow, that Rooster is the goofy looking one with the unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt treading through the sand. 

“Sorry, honey,” Bob chuckles.  

You see how much this matters to Bob. Never mind that you know him better than anyone else in the world, having met in middle school and fallen in love straight away. Even if you didn’t know him better than anyone, if you were just a fly on the wall--you’d still know. He woke up too early this morning, pacing the kitchen as the coffee brewed, checking in on the twins every few minutes until he heard the first sounds of awakeness. He picked their outfits with you, chewing on his bottom lip. He had the car packed and ready to go before noon. He even called Phoenix a few times just to make sure that plans were still on--and was reminded, a few times, that the plans were absolutely still on. 

“You’re shaking the beach,” you whisper, pressing a hand to his bouncing leg.

“Sorry,” Bob mutters, distracted. He stops bouncing his leg. “I’m…I’m really--!” 

“--Nervous,” you finish for him, leaning forward to press your warm cheek against his bicep. You kiss him there, soft and sweet, and then sigh. “It’s alright, Bobby. The babies are perfect, the squadron loves you, I’m very personable, the sun is shining, the seagulls are crying! Everything’s gonna be okay!” 

“Yeah,” Bob sighs, scratching his head and giving you a quick peck on the forehead. “Yeah, you’re right. I guess I’m just--I don’t know. This is important to me.” 

“I know it,” you say, heart swollen. “And I know it’s important to them, too. It’ll be good!” 

“It’ll be good,” Bob repeats softly, glancing at you. You’re grinning at him--it makes his shoulders sink. “It’ll be good.” 

“Well, well, well,” Hangman says as his feet sink into the hot, hot sand. He grins, squinting even behind his aviators as the sun beats down on his face. “If it ain’t baby on board and his babies on board.” 

Bob grins at the sound of Jake’s voice--which surprises him, really. Before that never would’ve happened. But now Bob is back in Lemoore, with you and your babies, and everything feels distinctly better than it did before.

“Hangman,” Bob grins, sticking his hand out for Jake to take. “Good to see you, man.” 

Hangman, who’s holding two comically large stuffed rabbits, shuffles to put them under one arm and take Bob’s hand in his.  

“How goes it?” Jake asks. Then he glances at you--you’re grinning at him, holding your daughter still. “And this must be the Missus, huh? Pleasure to make your acquaintance!” 

Jake crosses the sheets to take your hand, which he promptly brings to his mouth to kiss. 

“Don’t mind him,” Rooster says as he appears, toting a cooler and a speaker. “The lack of oxygen in the cockpit really scrambled his brain.” 

“Ha-ha-ha,” Hangman says, glancing at Rooster. “Did Bob tell you that Rooster is gonna try and steal them?” Jake asks, pointing to the babies with his brow perched. 

“Actually, yes,” you answer, smiling softly. “He did.” 

Rooster, rolling his eyes good-naturedly, sets the cooler in the sand before grinning at Bob and stretching his hands out. 

“Baby me and I’ll beer you,” Rooster says. 

“That doesn’t sound like a fair exchange,” Phoenix sighs, rounding out to clap Rooster on the shoulder before grinning at Bob and you. “Floyds!” 

“Hey, Nat,” Bob grins. “How are you?” 

“Oh, she’s great,” Payback answers, wiping sweat off his forehead as he sets his beach chair in the sand. “Super, even!” 

“She got the aux in the van,” Fanboy explains, resting his elbow on Payback’s shoulder. “Two words: Def Leppard.” 

“Lemme see those babies!” Coyote’s voice booms as he jogs up and rounds out the squadron. He’s grinning a broad grin, arms already outstretched. 

“Hey, I already called dibs!” Rooster says. 

“Yeah, but I got here first,” Hangman grins. 

Everyone looks at Bob like he’s the tie-breaker. 

“There’s only two of them,” Bob says, laughing quietly. 

“You’re gonna have to choose,” Rooster says seriously. 

“Here,” you suggest, leaning forward to put Jolene in Hangman’s extended arms. “Take one and pass it on.” 

Everyone laughs--it’s music to Bob’s ears. He watches you carefully transfer Jolene into Hangman’s arms, watches him turn absolutely gooey at the sight of your infant daughter. He cups her little head, holds her close to him, grins down at her. You readjust her sunhat and then lean back. 

“Oh, she’s too cute,” Hangman says, shaking his head seriously. “Rooster, you’re definitely gonna want to take this one.”

“Here,” Bob says, suddenly feeling more confident in his squadron’s ability than before. He leans forward and bestows Waylon upon Rooster, smiling softly and fondly as he Waylon coos and begins to blink himself awake. “You’re a natural.” 

Rooster, delighted, sinks into the sand and holds Waylon close to him. 

“Oh, I know,” he says--cocksure as ever. “Look at this little fella. Boy, does he look like a Floyd!” 

“Yes,” you agree, laughing. “My DNA didn’t even try.” 

As Hangman and Rooster hog the babies, everyone makes their rounds. You shake everyone’s hands, finally put faces to names, and collect all the presents for the babies and yourself. Bob keeps a watchful eye on the babies, but not because he’s stressed--but because he’s enamored that he has two perfect little beings to share with the important people in his life. 

The afternoon drifts forward. Your little spot on the beach becomes the spot on the beach, everyone spreading their blankets out and overlapping, coolers abundant and drinks icy. The babies get passed around, hardly even fussing, but always somehow end up back in Rooster’s arms. 

Even when everyone decides to get up and toss the pigskins, Rooster ends up staying on the palette with you and Bob and the babies. He’s somehow holding them both at the same time, grinning down at them as they blink up at him. 

“You’re ridiculous,” Hangman had said to Rooster, rolling his eyes. “A giant, gushy, manchild.” 

“Proud of it,” Rooster had said, cheeks pink. 

“They really like you,” you tell Bradley, sighing softly. “I’m still getting used to having all this help, you know? I’m a bit mind-blown right now.”

“Well, I’m here for any babysitting services,” Rooster says. “Hell, I’ll pay you!” 

“You’re my favorite already,” you tell Rooster.  

Bob looks at you--you’re smiling softly at Rooster and the babies. Your eyes are heavy and your back is curved and he knows that you’re that special kind of tired that is special to new motherhood. Bob understands. He knows. But his heart still squeezes at your sentence. He had to leave only two weeks after they were born, which broke his heart and yours. Of course, because you’re you, you’d put on a very brave face for him. But there were a few times--a few more times than Bob is comfortable with--when you answered his call with a tearful sniffle and a deep sigh. 

He reminds himself, as he gazes at you, that things are different now. He’s home for a while--and even after that, he’ll be close to home for the foreseeable future. He’ll never miss bath time or dinner or storytime. He’ll be here, beside you, through it all. 

“They really are beautiful,” Rooster tells the both of you. He looks between the two of you, tired and unsure parents with glittering eyes and soft smiles. “You’re doing a damn fine job of it.”

“Thanks, man,” Bob says. “It’s all her.” 

You have to swallow hard and roll your eyes, nudging him, to keep from crying pure tears of joy. 

Rooster gasps suddenly. “Okay, don’t call me crazy, but I swear to God that Jolene just smiled at me!” He says, elated. “Oh, God. Hangman’s gonna be so pissed.”

[jjuwuni]

caught in his web ; choi yeonjun ch. 4 | UNWANTED GUESTS

pairings — yeonjun x afab reader

genre — smut (lots of it so minors dni please), fluff, angst, college!au, friends to lovers, drama

word count (for this chapter) — ~2.3k

summary —  You thought you’d be immune to Choi Yeonjun's charms, turns out you were completely, utterly, shamefully wrong. 

And what’s worse? He’s your new best friend's boyfriend.

Wanna hear something even worse than that? His dad and your mom are dating.

MOA University: An educational institution created for the 1%. The elite of the elites. Those who are to inherit large multinational companies, take oath in office, and represent Korea's future in business and politics. This is where it begins.

warnings — almost-stepbro!yeonjun but not really since your parents are in the early stages of dating, kinda slow burn yes, black haired!yeonjun, bad boy yeonjun, all of you are trust fund babies, all the tubatu's make a cameo and are in the same friend group, might reference some other 4th gen idols, alcohol, drinking, drunken mishaps, lots of sex, profanity - lots of it, yeonjun is a menace but he's so cute wtf i'm screaming, jealousy, making out etc. minors dni istg! i'm watching y'all..

A/N: i'll keep my personal update short and sweet: one thing's for sure, this part do be kinda spicy so 👀 do let me know your thoughts !

current taglist : @soobadooba , @flowerbe0m , @lix-stray , @beomtese , @yxnjvnnie , @healingpage , @hihello-pinky , @kazscara , @bibibun , @txtistheloml , @jungwonismybias, @boba-beom, @jwnghyuns, @a-l-i-y-a, @nurihihi, @staaaarykids, @seonghwa10ve

The following morning, you were expecting the day to be quite eventful. Not only is your mom home from her stint in Italy, but Yeonjun's father came home along with her.

You basically have a full house that day - with both your parents and Yeonjun himself present.

The smell of fresh croissants greeted you that early morning, as you wrapped your baby pink silk robe around your frame while walking to the kitchen. 

"Good morning!" You greeted everyone in the kitchen upon your arrival. It was bustling, with helpers and chefs scattered all around - some of those who have served in your family for decades.

Lo and behold though, you happen to catch a glimpse of Chaewon in the kitchen, making you inhale a surprised gasp. 

"Chaewon-ah.. You're here too huh?" You inquired, staring at the other female who was busy in the middle of the kitchen.

Come to think of it, with the amount of times you've visited and stayed in her home, you've never seen her come even close to the vicinity of her kitchen.

"Oh! Hi y/n!" She chirped, pulling out a tray of croissants from the oven after flashing a smile your way. "I heard Jjunie's dad is in town and I just thought, why not welcome him back by cooking him breakfast, hm? I am his future daughter-in-law after all." 

You swallowed a little, not too sure why you were feeling a little invaded by this sudden visit. She was your best friend after all, right?

And she was Yeonjun’s future spouse, that much was a given, so she was only stating facts.

"Oh okay, well, I'm looking forward to what you have whipped up for us. See you in there." Your words come out apathetic in nature, making you question why for a moment before exiting the kitchen. You then waddled over to the dining area where all three of the people you were expecting to see were seated. 

Yeonjun shot you a cautious look when I entered, you think it was because he wasn't also expecting Chaewon to show up at this point in time. 

You ignored it and ignored him as well.

"Ah, we must send our regards to the Kim family for raising a daughter like this. They really did a marvelous job." Your Uncle Minjun noted as soon as you sat down, with Chaewon trailing behind you with her "freshly baked" croissants. 

"Oh of course- I'll tell them you send your warmest ones, appa. I can call you that now, right?" Chaewon bravely said, causing Yeonjun to almost choke on his glass of water. 

Your mom and yourself however, decided you'd take a seat back and enjoy watching Chaewon dote on Yeonjun while he awkwardly accepted the gesture.

You watched on, feeling slightly uncomfortable about the whole situation, but also wanting to be entertained at the same time. It was quite funny to see him act as behaved as possible around your parents. 

As you are about to finish eating, your phone starts ringing - effectively catching everyone's attention. Yeonjun, who was sitting across from you happened to catch a glimpse of who was calling. 

"Excuse me, I'm going to take this call quick." You remarked before standing up and moving to the corner of the room, even though it was far from everyone else, you made it a point that people could still hear you. "Ah Soobin ssi, what is it? Oh-... You want to go out? Today? Ah alright, pick me up in a few, okay? See you then!" 

When you got back to your seat, it was a lot quieter than usual, but you were determined to get yourself out of the house as soon as possible- there was no way you'd stay there any longer.

“Nice to see you Soobin-ah~” You said as Soobin picked you up that early afternoon, getting in the seat and strapping yourself in with the seatbelt.

“I’m glad you agreed to let me see you today.” He replied and began to drive away from your house. 

In the rearview mirror of his car, you could see a tall figure in the distance, standing by the far side of the driveway, watching the car drive off.

You shake the feeling off, Yeonjun was probably just wanting to see one of his best friends.

“Chaewon’s in our house today, I think she’s out on a mission to try and impress Yeonjun’s dad. It’s pretty cute, to be honest. I don't think I've ever seen her do any housework whatsoever.” You began the conversation, laughing a little in the process. “Has she always been like this?” 

“I guess you could say that.” The male with the dark-colored hair nodded, and you watched him on as he drove, settling on the passenger side. “Chaewon’s always been a shy kid when we were young, she didn't even like to speak to anyone. But I think Jun helped her get out of her shell. I guess you could say, the reason why she’s as confident as she is now is because of him." He starts explaining, giving you more insight as to how their dynamic was when you were all young.

No wonder Chaewon and him are practically attached by the hip.

"They were friends for a while, as we all were, but as soon as Chaewon approached her last year of High School, their parents started communicating about the possibility of a potential marriage arrangement.”

You blew air into your cheeks, inflating them, it seemed as if they had their whole lives ahead of them planned out. “Oh, I understand.” You nodded a few times, “Um, Soobin?” You paused, looking up at him with a careful expression on your face, “You know, don’t you? About… How Yeonjun sees other women.” 

He pursed his lips in a tight line and nodded albeit cautiously, “How did you know?” 

“His dad mentioned in one of our dinners that the guards catch him sneaking people in.” You replied, “But… but why does he do that? Is he not... happy with her?” You asked him, hoping to make sense of the situation. 

“Well.. Like I said before, he’s making up for all the shortcomings in his life by acting up. That’s just how it is. I guess when you get robbed of your childhood like Yeonjun hyung did, that’s how you cope.”

Soobin paused, running his hands through his soft locks of hair. “As messed up as it may sound, Chaewon knows though, she knows every single one of his faults and secrets. She even knows that he sleeps around. But she lets him… That’s how patient she is with him, you know?” 

Wow. Props to her. “Woah, I didn’t know that, indeed, Chaewon does love him a lot.” 

“She does. She’s very patient with him, hoping that one day he’ll come to his senses and get it together. I think we're all just hoping for the same. In any case, Chaewon knows that Yeonjun’s formally to be with her, so maybe that’s what gives her assurance.” 

Yeonjun is hers. You thought to yourself to serve as a reminder. You stayed there quiet as can be all throughout the car ride going to the mall where you were going to hang out, trying to process everything.

You didn’t know Chaewon had any inclination that Yeonjun fooled around like that, and it was very admirable that she stuck beside him even through it all. 

It almost made you jealous.

The day went by faster than you expected. You and Soobin just watched a movie and had some pizza and ice cream afterward, as per your request.

It was a wholesome kind of "date", as he had always been the exemplary gentleman. He was different from the guys your age who just cared about hook-ups, and you realized the more time you spent with him that you shared a lot of commonalities- and for that you were thankful. 

Thinking about it now, he was one of the first few who welcomed you into the group with open arms during your first days at MOA U.

You got home at around a little after midnight, you even fell asleep in his car on the ride home.

You decided to end the night by placing a quick kiss on his lips though, it was more of a thank you gesture on your part- for being so patient with you as always and also saving you from your day. 

He blushed as red as a beet, and it was the cutest thing ever.

--

As you were heading up the long flight of stairs and up to the third floor of the house, you couldn't help but notice that Yeonjun's door was still slightly open. 

You had to admit that curiosity started eating at you.

After all, you haven't seen him the whole day. Maybe he was still awake? You did notice that he was the type to sleep late playing games with the boys or listening to music.

Maybe you can catch up on his day? You were genuinely interested to hear about how the day with Chaewon being in the house went after you left.

And though at first, you decided to ignore the open door and go on your merry way, after changing into your satin pajama set, you slowly but surely made your way to his room. 

You took very light steps across the carpeted hallway, not wanting to disturb him in any way in case he left his room open when he fell asleep. Quiet as a mouse, you moved through the long hallway adorned with expensive paintings.  

It was when you were a few inches away from his door that you heard a muffled sound.

And then another, and then, another. 

Your eyes grew big when you realized what kind of sound it was.

Your eyes peered into the small crack in his door into the dimly lit bedroom, his king-sized bed in view, and the sight that took place before your eyes was enough to cause you to kneel on the floor. 

“Noona..” Yeonjun moaned as the unknown female began to ride him. She was nestled atop him, with her legs on either side of his waist. 

You watched on as Yeonjun’s firm grip took hold of her waist, making indents on her skin, while she moved over him with much vigor and enthusiasm. 

Now's probably a good time to divulge your secret.

You were a virgin. With no prior experience with sex, whatsoever.

And this would be the first time you’d be witnessing something like this firsthand. 

Even so, you couldn’t pry your eyes away from the lewd sight. It wasn't like you've ever gone out of your way to watch anything R-rated, so this was basically your first brush with that type of content.

No matter what you did, there was something in you that wanted to watch on.

You felt your innocence getting tainted by the second so quickly. But you just couldn’t look away. 

You bit your tongue as your eyes scanned over him: from his prominent features exhibiting a pleasured expression, down to his defined collarbones that adorned his broad shoulders, and to his firm, chiseled torso. 

You barely gave the unknown woman the time of day, your focus was all on him. 

You then felt something in between your legs, some type of heat. At the back of your mind, you knew what that meant, but you just couldn't bring yourself to accept it in the moment.

The older girl grasped Yeonjun’s shoulders as she sped up her bouncing, allowing you to catch a glimpse of his length every now and then, and boy, were they really supposed to come in that big of a size? 

You couldn’t handle it anymore as they both wrestled to hit their climaxes, and you were finally able to gather enough strength to back away from the scene of the crime.

You ran like a chicken without its head towards the kitchen, grabbing a cold glass of water and chugging it down in the hopes that it would extinguish whatever kind of feeling was igniting in you. 

“Jesus… What the hell.” You couldn’t help but groan into your hands as you buried your face in them, half of your body collapsing onto the marbled countertop.

You stood there frozen in the middle of the kitchen for what seemed like an eternity, wanting to burn that vision of Yeonjun getting it on with some other girl and eradicate it from your memory bank as soon as you possibly could. 

You were ready to go back to your room and call it a night after you got yourself together (which honestly took about five more minutes).

But as soon as you turned around, there he was, standing by the doorway of the kitchen. He had his arms crossed, an unreadable expression on his face, thick brows furrowed together in the center of his face.

“O-oh, hey…” You tried to act nonchalant, but the cracking in your voice and the heat pooling underneath your cheeks were betraying you. In short, it felt like your whole face was on fire. "W-when did you get here? Ah, I didn't even notice you. I'm just so tired from my day." You tried to salvage the situation, even faking a yawn.

“Hey yourself.” Yeonjun replied in a raspy voice, lowering his gaze to you. 

You walked up towards the entrance of the kitchen and came face to face with the devil himself. “I was just getting a glass of water.” You tried to explain, stopping about an inch away from him when you realized he wasn’t going to budge. He wasn't moving a muscle.

“Enjoyed the show I hope?” 

Your jaw dropped ever so slightly, “E-excuse me?” 

“You’re not going to tell Chaewon.. Right?” He asked with a grin as your eyes locked.

“I - I really don’t know what you’re talking about, Yeonjun-ah,” You said, trying your very hardest to feign innocence still.

All at the same time, you were trying to ignore the fact that he was literally just in his boxers, with that… that thing.. as defined as it was behind the cloth of the underwear.

Yeonjun laughed: it sounded like a giggle, almost. Clearly finding this situation entertaining.

Soon, he reached out, pushing your hair back and over your shoulder, effectively exposing the flesh.

He then leaned in and began to ghost his lips across your shoulder and to your own collarbone, tracing it with his plump, rosy pair. “Mm, okay if you say so, princess…” He said, his hot breath trickling against your skin as you heard him inhale, as if he was taking in your scent, “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

With that, he pulled away, leaving you weak in the knees that you had to support yourself and hold onto the doorway to catch the breath you didn’t know you were holding.

[elizabethwritesmen]

The Devil Wears Lace

chapter 5 : July 4, 2023

pairing: simon “ghost” riley x reader

summary: it’s 4th of july and your favorite soldier shows up at the firework show. you spend a little time with him and get a little drunk, resulting in some bad decision. everything is ok though, as long as he’s there with you.

warnings: 18+ for eventual smut, pining, no use of y/n, reader is almost forced into a pool, angry simon, possessive simon, fireworks, someone flirts with reader, i think that’s all but let me know if i missed anything!

series masterlist

July 4, 2023

A year had passed since my kidnapping.

It was surreal, really. I liked to brush off the experience like it had been nothing but it took a week in the hospital to detox me from all the drugs those guys had pumped in me and two months for my leg to completely heal. It wasn’t the kind of thing you just… forget about. The trauma was gone, though, mostly, but what was left creeped in once I realized it was the anniversary of it.

And then the worst thought crept in. What if they came back? One failed attempt so they try again?

I shrugged off those thoughts, returning to my outfit search. I’d tried on a million options, and upon seeing them on me, decided they were awful and should burn. Because of this what can only be described as character flaw, most of my clothes were strewn across my bed and floor haphazardly after being ripped violently and angrily from my body. I sighed, accepting defeat, and found my safe choice. A cream colored American flag sweater, just thin enough to wear on the beach, and a pair of light wash daisy dukes with rips and exposed pockets. I yanked on my birk style sandals and called it a day.

I rushed out the door with my hair pulled messily into a white claw clip and my makeup done in a rush, mascara just barely smeared and a thin layer of lip balm. I jumped into my car, speeding to the beach where the firework show was to be held.

Normally, I would’ve had to work, but Sabrina’s husband’s family just happened to be the owners of the bar and he decided to close for the night so everybody could enjoy the holiday. This was mostly due to pestering from Sab and I, but that was fine, considering we got what we wanted in the end.

Once I got there, I parked right beside her husband, Dylan’s truck. Once they saw me, they climbed out and we all walked to find a spot together.

“There are a lot of people here already,” I commented as we found a free space at the end of the pier, right in front of the water.

“Probably trying to get good spots like the one we just got,” Sabrina wiggled her eyebrows.

“You know who might be coming?” Dylan asked me with a smirk that made me nervous. I stood, waiting for him to tell me, and he bit, “Connor.”

Connor worked with me when I first started at the bar, but he’d quit after a few months to take a job offer in another city. He was nice, adorable and likable. He was never immune to my charms but he was much more respectful than any of the other men I used them on. We’d hung out and, well, made out a few times before he moved away. I never really cared about him or anything, so his leaving was fine with me, but I did miss having a man around that wasn’t creepy or strange or icky in the slightest. Of course, now I had Ghost, but was he really around? Not much. So what harm could flirting with Connor for the evening do?

“You invited him?” I asked, brows furrowed, “I knew you guys were friends but I didn’t realize you kept in touch.”

“Yeah, he has plans with his family today and came here for them, but he said he’ll probably be done early and head here.”

“Interesting,” Sabrina grinned, “Sounds like a good chance for you to get laid.”

I threw my water bottle at her, “Not everything is about sex, Sab!”

“Well it sure hasn’t been for you lately.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I raised an eyebrow at her.

“You’ve been stuck on Ghost for a year, flirting around with him and waiting for him like an army wife or something. And in that time, have you had sex or even done anything with anyone at all?” I cast my eyes downward, the truth in her words hitting me like ice water. “Exactly. I’m just saying, you need to get out of this rut or you’re gonna be hung up on a man you’ll never have for the rest of your life.”

Sabrina was always one for tough love. She never lied, and she only ever said exactly what she thought a person needed to hear.

“You know, I never really slept around even before I met Ghost,” My contradiction was weak against her words.

“I know. But I also know that’s the only thing that might get him off your mind and turn you back into a man’s worst nightmare.”

“Fine. You’re right. Hopefully Connor will stop by.”

“Atta girl!” She grinned, high fiving me with both hands as we settled into the chairs Dylan had carried out for us.

“Not to, uh, ruin this moment for you ladies or anything, but who is Ghost?” Dylan asked, seeming thoroughly confused.

“The guy I told you about, that always wears the mask. The one who saved her last year.”

“Oh!” recognition flashed on his face, “Somehow I’ve missed him every time he’s been here.”

“Well then you’ve also missed the googly eyes she makes at him.”

“I’m sitting right here!” I huffed, crossing my arms.

We hung out there for a couple hours, chatting and drinking a little more than we really needed to. I was nice and buzzed by the time night fell, and I looked around, surveying all the people there.

What I wasn’t expecting to see was Ghost and his three buddies a little ways away from us. They hadn’t noticed me yet, and I didn’t know whether that was a blessing or a curse. Did I have it in me to ignore him and just have a good night with my friends?

Of course I didn’t.

“Sabrina!” I hissed, smacking her on the arm until she paid attention to me. When she finally looked up from whatever she was doing on her phone, I gestured aggressively with my head to the guys in question.

“Fuck, who’d have thought? You gonna go say hi?”

“I don’t know, they haven’t seen me yet. It would be weird for me to just-“

“They see you now,” she raised a brow and gave them a slight finger wave, and I turned to see that they were, in fact, looking at me. Even him.

“Do you think they even want me to walk over there?” I asked.

“Of course they do, stupid, those boys are wrapped around your finger. Go!”

“No,” I sighed, “If he wants to talk to me badly enough he’ll come over here.”

“You and your dumbass hoe rules,” she rolled her eyes at me.

“They’re not dumb and I’m not a hoe!”

“Wait,” Dylan furrowed his brows, “That’s the man? The myth? The legend?” I nodded, giggling. “He’s fucking huge!”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Hell no, I’m guy crushing. Now I don’t resent Sabrina for telling me he’s hot.”

“You told your husband you think Ghost is hot?” I snorted at her, and she shrugged.

“He told me he thinks Angelina Jolie is hot. It was only fair.”

“So you guys just… share your gay crushes with each other? Any more you want to tell me about?”

“Well we’ve both agreed we’d have a threesome but only with you-“ Sabrina didn’t finish her statement, but I heard enough and reached my hand up to shut her up.

“I want to forget you told me that.”

“Fuck,” she gasped, “He’s coming over.”

“Really?” my tone was pathetic, too excited for my own good.

“You were right, I was wrong. Your hoe rules are not dumb!”

Before I could respond, he cleared his throat from behind me. I turned slowly, feeling his presence before I even saw him.

“Hey,” I grinned, and almost looked like he did too, under the mask.

“Wasn’t expecting to see you here,” he said, his voice the same rough melody as always.

“Well… I live here, and basically the entire town showed up, so..”

“That’s true.”

“What’s more weird is you being here. Considering this is a day to celebrate the US ditching England and you’re English.”

He shrugged, “I like American Independence Day. It’s interesting.”

“Interesting how?”

“Right now, the interesting part is you.”

I fought off the butterflies. Really and truly, I did, with everything I had in me.

“If you just came over here to flatter me, you can go ahead and go back to your friends,” I smirked, eyes narrow.

“Actually I came over to see if you’d wanna come say hi to them.”

“Awwww, so they sent you over here? And I thought you came over because you like me.”

Sabrina and Dylan had amused expressions on their faces, but neither said a word as they watched the exchange.

“They were just gonna wave you over but I told them I wanted to come ask you. Does that answer satisfy you?”

“I’m never satisfied,” I clicked my tongue, but I stood from my seat anyway, lightly grabbing his arm and letting him lead me away. “Be right back!” I called as I left, and my two friends waved goodbye to me, laughing.

“There she is!” Soap cheered as I approached, and a grin broke out over my face. “We started to think you didn’t wanna talk to us!”

“Was just waiting for Lieutenant Dan over here to notice me is all,” I hummed jokingly, getting on my tiptoes to pat Ghost on the head.

“Lieutenant… Dan?” he furrowed his brows, staring down at me, confused as ever.

“You’ve never seen Forrest Gump?” I practically shouted, mouth hanging open stupidly, and he shook his head. “That’s it, you guys are coming over to my place one of these days and we’re gonna watch it.”

“Fine with us,” Gaz shrugged, taking a sip of the drink in his hand.

Ghost still looked apprehensive and confused, so I told him in the sweetest voice I could manage, “Lieutenant Dan is super cool. I had a little crush on him the first time I watched the movie.” At that, his features relaxed, but they tensed again when the boys around us whistled.

“I think she’s got a little crush on you, Ghost,” Price laughed, and Ghost glared but I just giggled.

“I never said I didn’t,” I shrugged with a wink and the whistles got worse. “But I never said I did, either.”

We caught up, they told me as much as they could about what they had been up to but it wasn’t a lot at all. I noticed the more I saw them, the comfier they got speaking to me.

Then, I noticed Connor walking up the pier out of the corner of my eye, his own eyes already on me. A bright smile lit up his face and he picked up his pace to get to my side.

“Connor!” I squeaked as he pulled me into a huge hug, spinning me around in a circle and then waiting an extra second to let me go.

“Hey, sweet cheeks,” he winked, “You look good.”

“I look the same,” I scoffed.

“I know,” his voice was coy and I rolled my eyes, stepping back to put a tiny bit of distance between us, hyper aware of Ghost’s eyes burning into me.

“I can’t believe you made it,” I spoke, more tense than I normally would’ve been but I don’t think anyone picked up on it. I felt so awkward. I’d started the day with the intention of flirting with him, and doing anything I could to make him want me, and now I was a puddle for another man I didn’t even expect to see.

“Of course I made it,” he said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world, “You’re here. I’d never miss a chance to see you while I’m in town.”

“I seem to have that affect on men,” I snorted, sparing a glance to Ghost and instantly regretting it. His eyes were hot, and they just about set me on fire, making my whole body feel tense and preyed upon.

“You always have,” Connor looked me up and down then, clearly liking what he saw, “Where are the lovebirds?”

“Over there,” I pointed to the end of the pier and he nodded.

“You gonna come join us anytime soon?” he asked.

“If you stay on your best behavior, I’ll consider it,” I smirked and he laughed all the way down to Dylan and Sabrina.

“You two seemed familiar,” Soap hummed, tone playful but eyes wary.

“He used to work with me but he moved away. This is the first time I’ve seen him in a couple years or so.”

“Guess time didn’t make him like you any less.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “Why don’t you guys come down to the end, with us? The view is better, and I don’t wanna leave you but I can’t ditch them.”

“Fine by me,” Price shrugged, and the others agreed. Ghost didn’t want to, but they talked him into it, saying it was either hang out with me or stand there alone.

“Finally decided we were worth your time?” Sabrina jabbed as we approached, and I rolled my eyes.

“You’re always worth my time, baby girl,” I leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead, “I was just having a chat.”

“Get a room, you two,” Dylan joked at our girly display of affection.

“Can’t, you married her before I had the chance,” I pouted, and they both laughed. I was straight as they come, but I still liked to joke about being gay for her. She was my best friend. What girl doesn’t do that?

“If anyone is getting a room with this one, it’s gonna be me,” Connor leaned around me to kiss me on the cheek and I all but cringed, shying away from him.

“‘This one’ isn’t getting a room at all, so don’t go getting your hopes up,” I was stern, but tried to be nice and protect the peace. I’d expected him to flirt with me. It’s not his fault I have a very angry looking Ghost watching over me and making me feel dizzy with need, my tummy a little sick from all the butterflies in there flying against my rib cage.

“See your mouth hasn’t changed much,” he just laughed, turning back to the side of the pier and leaning on the railing.

I approached Ghost, opting to root myself by him instead of by Connor. I wanted him to know that he was the one I’d rather have. It was silly, really, I shouldn’t have cared, but I did. I wouldn’t risk doing anything that would make him not want to see me again. I needed him to want to see me again.

This action didn’t go unnoticed by everyone else, their eyebrows raised but they stayed silent. Ghost just grabbed my arm and pulled me half an inch closer, satisfied with my choice, and I half smiled.

“Hey hot stuff,” Sabrina began speaking to me, “After the fireworks we’re going back to mine and hanging out by the pool. You down?”

“Are we all invited?” I gestured to the four men beside me and she nodded.

“Of course! I wouldn’t leave anyone out,” her tone of voice was the same as all the times she joked about Ghost and I.

“Then yeah, that sounds good. You guys wanna come?”

“I’d rather hang out there than some crowded bar,” Gaz shrugged, and the others nodded. Once again, all except Ghost.

“Come on, Ghosty, you’re not gonna let me go all alone are you?” I spoke, only loud enough for him to hear.

“You’ll have Connor with you.” He spat the name out like it disgusted him.

“I don’t want him with me. I want you. Besides, all your boys are coming. Please?” That one word did him in, his eyes meeting mine in a heated gaze.

“I’ll come.”

I smiled victoriously as we all settled in to watch the fireworks that were about to start. He placed his hand on the small of my back and lead me to the edge so I’d have a better view, which was shockingly sweet for the gruff man.

An hour or so later, we were all doing our thing by Dylan and Sabrina’s pool. I was laying in a lawn chair, drink in hand, on the border between tipsy and drunk, a giggling mess. At some point, everyone became comfortable with each other. Or at least, everyone but Ghost. He sat right beside me in the other lawn chair, watching over me carefully.

“You’re weird,” I hummed out, reaching out to tap him.

“You’re drunk,” he countered.

“That’s why you’re watching me so close? Cause I’m drunk?”

He cast his eyes downward, “Guess so.”

I let out a laugh, the embarrassing kind that I would inevitably regret the next day, attempting to stand up but wobbling on my legs. I just about fell but he steadied me.

“I’m gonna go get another, you want anything, silly little Ghost?” the sentence came out a slurred string of words, but he understood.

“No thank you, love,” he sounded kind, like he thought it was nice I asked, “Are you sure you need another?”

“One more won’t hurt me,” I shrugged, turning away to stumble over to the cooler and pull out yet another bottle. I found my way back beside him and plopped back down.

I couldn’t manage to get the cap off, and it was making me increasingly angry. Finally, Ghost grabbed it from me with a chuckle and took it off for me.

“So sexy when you do stuff for me,” I hummed, taking it from him and taking a long sip.

“That needs to be your last one,” he ordered and I giggled again.

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“If you’d make the right choice on your own, I wouldn’t have to.”

I rolled my eyes, throwing the bottle back again. When I put it back down, Connor was in my line of sight, chuckling about something with Sabrina.

“Hey sweet cheeks, I got a real question for you,” he smirked at me, and I groaned.

“Oh God help me, what is it?”

“Will you jump in the pool with me like old times?” he implored, voice hopeful and I snorted.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Come on, you love bad ideas. You always have. Every time we’ve been here, we’ve jumped in the pool, don’t let this be the first time we don’t!” I still looked hesitant, and I was hesitant. I didn’t want to do it. Especially not with Simon right there, watching my every move, looking for any reason not to want anything to do with me. “Unless you’re scared?” Connor kept going. “You weren’t scared of anything when I knew you. Guess you’ve changed.”

His voice was a challenge and I knew it was a trap, but I fell right into it, indignantly arguing, “I am not scared.”

“Prove it, then. Strip.”

We got locked in a stare down before I huffed, standing from my seat, still wobbly but my determination giving me a boost. Simon helped steady me once again, still looking at me, assessing the situation.

“Fine,” I shrugged as I yanked my sweater over my head then unbuttoned my shorts and pulled them down, leaving a trail of clothes on my way to the pool. Once I got there, all I had on was my lace bra and underwear, cute and purple. I didn’t even think before going for it, jumping haphazardly into the deep end, the rush of water hitting me like a train. I felt it shift around me and knew he’d jumped in right after me as I fought to get to the surface.

I finally broke through, and took a deep breath in, laughing the loudest I had all night. Sabrina and Dylan cheered for us, mumbling on about how familiar it was to see us in their pool. I risked a glance at Ghost. He was expressionless. Well, from what I could tell.

I made my way to the side of the pool, crossing my arms there and laying my head on them.

“You’re staring,” I hummed.

“You look fucked out. You need to go fix your makeup.”

I blushed, and I knew he saw it because his eyes perked up.

“Help me out, then,” I pleaded, reaching one hand out towards him and he stared at it for a moment before making his way towards me and grabbing it. He used it to tug me up while simultaneously wrapping his other arm around my middle and pulling me out.

“You’re not gonna swim with me?” Connor pouted from the pool, and I shrugged.

“I proved my point. Swim alone.”

Ghost’s glare shut him up after that, and we headed inside to the bathroom. He left the door open behind us but we still had a sense of privacy that had never been there before.

“Here,” he sighed, opening the bag of makeup wipes that Sab had on the counter and retrieving one then using it to wipe my face. “You feel good about what you just did?”

“Well I don’t feel bad about it, if that’s what you’re asking.” He grunted. “Everyone enjoyed it but you, Ghost.”

“Yeah because everyone out there wanted to see you half naked.”

“What, you didn’t? You don’t like what you see or something?”

“I didn’t say that,” his voice was deadly, as if he was chastising me. “That wasn’t smart. You’re drunk.”

“And you’re jealous.”

“I’m telling you that you made a dangerous decision and you’re accusing me of being jealous?”

“It wasn’t dangerous, first of all. I’ve done worse than that while I was drinking. And second of all, yeah. You’re jealous. You can admit it.” He stayed quiet, finishing up my face and going to walk out but I grabbed his wrist, tugging him back. “I’ve been rejecting him in the nicest way possible all night long.”

“Why?”

“Because I was scared if I didn’t, you’d decide I wasn’t worth coming back for again.”

“You can do what you want, it’s none of my business.”

“I know.”

“You can flirt back. You can damn near fuck him right in front of me and I’ll still seek you out the next time I’m here. You don’t have to worry one bit about that.”

“Is that a promise?” I asked, and he nodded, hand cupping my cheek. “I don’t wanna flirt with him. It’s pathetic is what it is. He came here tonight for me, thinking he was gonna get in these little lace panties, and the second I saw you he was an afterthought.”

His gaze was hotter than it ever had been, pupils a little wider when I risked those words. His voice was husky, going straight through me, “How rude of you.”

“You like me pathetic, huh? You like that I’m a little desperate?”

“You’re not desperate,” he chuckled.

“I am for you.”

He groaned, his masked face falling into the crook of my neck as his hands ghosted over my hips.

“Come on, let’s get back out there,” he pulled himself away and walked out, and I made no attempt to stop him that time, still trying to catch my breath.

A moment later I managed to compose myself, and I followed outside, laying back in my lawn chair. I was still a bit wet so I didn’t bother putting my clothes back on yet, but I was shivering slightly from the cold.

“Took you long enough,” Ghost mumbled from beside me and I rolled my eyes at him, leaning even further back, my eyes shutting. All the alcohol was getting to me, making me a little sleepy.

“You’re going to sleep?” The voice was Connor’s, and it was close. Before I could even respond, I was being picked up and held tightly in arms that didn’t feel like Ghost’s. My eyes shot open to see Connor carrying me towards the water.

“What’re you doing?” I asked loudly, squirming to get away. He just chuckled, clutching me tighter.

“Waking you up,” his voice was breathless as he laughed and I started struggling harder against him.

“Let me go! Please, let me go, fuck, God-!” I was full on wrestling him now to get away, not wanting to go back in the water. Thinking how wrong it was for him to throw me in there. He always used to do stuff like that when he’d lived close, and I hadn’t minded then, but I was drunk and it was late and-

My thoughts cut off there as he was yanked back from the edge by his shoulder.

“She said she wanted to be let go.” Ghost was standing there, looking as angry as ever.

“Chill, dude, this is our thing. We’ve always done stuff like this together, she’s fine,” Connor huffed incredulously.

“Does she look fine to you?”

They looked down at me, my lip trembling, fully uncomfortable in Connor’s arms.

“Connor, please put me down,” I tried one last time, “I don’t wanna be thrown in the water. I’m cold and drunk and-“

“Give her to me.” Ghost’s tone was not a playing one, sending shivers even down my spine and I could not imagine how Connor wasn’t cracking under that pressure. “Now.”

Connor sighed, nodding, setting me down next to Ghost who pulled me close into his chest, hand stroking my wet hair and wiping my cheeks where I hadn’t realized tears were falling.

“I’m sorry,” Connor looked at me and it sounded like he really meant it. “I just - we used to do shit like this all the time. I didn’t think you would care.”

“It’s ok,” I sniffled, snuggling closer into the broad expanse of man I was leaning against, soaking up the warmth for all it was worth.

“I’m gonna take her home, I think she’s had enough for one night.” I nodded as Ghost spoke, his arms even tighter than they’d been to begin with. “Get your clothes, come on,” he whispered into my hair and I did as asked, grabbing my shirt and shorts and slipping my shoes on. I gave Connor a quick goodbye hug and waved goodbye to the rest of my friends and his, who opted to stay for a while longer. They said they’d come pick Ghost up from wherever he needed, and he nodded as we left for the night.

He opened the passenger side door of my car for me and helped me in, frowning as I shivered against the biting night air. “Put your clothes on, sweetheart,” he suggested and I shook my head.

“Don’t feel - hiccup - like it,” my voice was practically a whine and he nodded, walking over to the driver’s side. On his way, be noticed a blanket in the back seat, and when he was situated in the car, he grabbed it and placed it over me. I cuddled into it, appreciating the gesture.

“Are you okay?” he asked me, as serious as I’d ever seen him.

“‘m fine,” my voice was weak, and I didn’t really understand why I was so upset. I’d been thrown into the water before. I never enjoyed it, but it never made me cry.

“Yeah? Doesn’t seem like it.”

“I don’t know why I’m so bothered,” I shrugged, “Guess with everything that’s happened to me I just felt scared. I don’t like… I don’t like feeling like I can’t get away from someone. Not if I don’t trust them.”

“You said you’ve known him for a long time, you don’t trust him?”

“Not like -“ I paused, wondering if I should say the next part, “Not like I trust you.”

He chuckled darkly, hand falling down to my stretched out knee and rubbing.

“You don’t know me at all,” he pointed out.

“I know you a little better than you think,” I huffed, “You’ve saved me three times now. You wouldn’t let anything happen to me.”

He clicked his tongue, turning the car on and pulling away, following my directions to my house. He was gentle with me the entire time until my tears stopped and I was half asleep in the seat, head slumped and eyes hazy.

He pulled in the driveway, slipping out of the car and picking me up, leaving the blanket and my clothes behind.

Once we got to the door, he took one arm off of me just long enough to unlock it with my key and walked me inside, barely caring to get a look at the place at all as he walked to the hallway in search of my bedroom.

“It’s the one at the end,” I offered and he nodded, finding it and letting himself in, laying me down on my bed.

“I’m sure you wanna get out of your wet…. clothes,” he vaguely gestured to me, “I’ll leave you to it.”

“Don’t leave me here,” I gasped out, reaching desperately for his hand, “Don’t leave me here alone. I’m not ready for you to go yet.”

His eyes widened and he leaned back into me, crowding me and promising, “I’m not goin’ anywhere, just leavin’ the room to give you privacy to clean up.”

“Oh,” I hummed, relief settling in.

“You could say please, though,” his voice had that husk in it again, and I grinned.

“I don’t think I have to, you’re gonna stay either way.”

He tutted, “Doesn’t mean I don’t wanna hear it.”

I thought for a moment. “Fine,” I smirked, then, in the most seductive voice I could manage, I leaned up and drawled, “Please.”

His pupils blew wide and he nodded, his hand exploring my face, cupping my cheek, squeezing my chin and making my lips pucker, and then it drifted into more dangerous territory, resting around my throat. My breath hitched and he chuckled, giving one small squeeze before his touch disappeared. He walked out of the room, laughing all the way.

I rolled my eyes, going to my dresser to get clothes. I was still too sleepy to shower or anything but I at least wanted to wear something that covered me and didn’t smell like chlorine. I pulled on a T shirt and a fresh pair of panties, not bothering with more. Ghost had already seen me in just my undies, why did it matter? Then I went to the bathroom and thoroughly cleaned my face and brushed my damp and stringy hair.

Once I was done, I left my room and searched for him, finding him in the living room, lounged back on the couch like he belonged there. Wordlessly, I sat beside him, and he hummed, pulling me into his side and tucking me there comfortably.

He was so warm, I couldn’t help but sigh, sinking into him. My mind drifted to places it shouldn’t be, imagining sinking into his arms all the time. Imagining having his warmth forever. I pushed that away. Those were not feelings I needed to unpack.

Finally, I glanced up at the TV to see he’d found Forrest Gump and it was ready to play.

“Really?” I asked, the ghost of a smile on my lips.

“Wanted to see what this Lieutenant Dan was all about,” he shrugged, clicking the button and starting it.

I couldn’t pay much attention, I was much too content to just relax into his hold. I checked my phone, seeing a few missed texts from Sabrina asking if I was okay, apologizing for Connor, and of course, some innuendos about Ghost and me.

“You two have an interesting friendship.” I looked up at him as he said it and laughed.

“How so?”

“Doesn’t seem like you like each other very much.”

“That’s just how we are,” I shrugged, “She’s my best friend, we just like being mean to each other.” He grunted in response, prompting me to turn back to the movie. It didn’t take long for me to drift off, snuggled deep into him and feeling more safe and taken care of than I ever had.

I woke up to the feeling of being carried and opened my eyes slowly just as Ghost laid me in bed.

“The team is here to pick me up. I’ve got to go.”

I pouted, not ready to let him go just yet.

“I wish you didn’t have to leave.”

“You shouldn’t drink so much, sweetheart, it makes you sappy,” he chuckled, but the look he gave me was pitiful and it only made me want him to stay more.

“I’m not being sappy, I’m being honest. I don’t do that a lot, be grateful for it.”

He sighed, sitting down beside me and stroking my hair. “I’ll be back. I don’t know when but I promise I will.”

I nodded, trying hard not to drift back to sleep, wanting those last few moments with him.

My eyes widened as he lifted his mask to his nose, exposing the stubble on his chin and cheeks. He leaned down, taking my cheeks in his hands and kissing my forehead.

Oh, I was fucked.

His lips felt so good, I was addicted and he hadn’t even kissed me properly. I felt myself getting a little closer to the edge of the cliff I was bound to fall off of.

He pulled away slightly, still close enough for me to feel his warmth, and I sighed, eyes on his lips.

“You gonna give me a real kiss, soldier?”

“Not when you’re all tired and drunk like this,” he shook his head, brushing his thumb across my lips then pulling away.

“Ghost,” I called as he made his way to the door, “Goodbye.”

“Bye, sweetheart. Get some sleep.”

[homicidal-slvt]

"Not Just A Shell"

-

MDNI

-

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader

Medic|Y/N

-

Requested by @ghostslillady

-

Warnings: Angsty, Violence, Injury

-

You were touch starved- there was no doubt about that.

You craved the warmth of someone but didn't know how to ask for it, instead choosing to mainly focus on your work.

Simon Riley. The Ghost.

His eyes always followed your every movement, deep and unrelenting those pools of hazel were oddly mesmerizing.

"Good morning, Ghost."

"Mornin'."

You flashed him a warm smile and he slowly glanced away- awkward.

-

"Jesus Christ..."

You murmured as you tended to a bullet wound in Ghost's leg, he had gotten rather lucky with the injury.

It could have been much worse.

His eyes followed every little motion you made, the way you focused so intently on taking care of him. The wound hurt like a bitch and he occasionally grunted but for the most part he didn't express his pain.

Perhaps it was a defense mechanism- like a cat he hid his suffering to avoid seeming like easy prey.

Oddly enough though you were always the one he seeks out if he's injured. He always requested it be you who tended to him.

He trusts you... Or could it be more than that?

-

Your feet hurt from being on them all day, work never ends as war never takes a break.

So much blood spilled- so much crimson staining your hands every single day. Desperate attempts to preserve every life you could.

Life is far from fair in so many ways. So many young men and women's souls slip between your finger tips.

You found yourself relieved to see Ghost and the other boys were okay.

Tired eyes met Ghost's as you sipped on your- third cup of coffee? You weren't exactly sure.

There was a glint of something in the man's eyes that you didn't typically see- was it... Concern?

Maybe you're just imagining things. You've been working way too hard recently.

••

It was late- you didn't know how late but it was definitely far past when you should've been in bed.

Though you couldn't sleep... Just another one of those nights. Your aimless pacing around the hall was interrupted by an all too familiar gruff voice, unintentionally flinching and twirling around to face him as he called out your name.

"It's late."

"I know."

"Why are you up?"

"Just couldn't sleep- plus I could ask you the same thing."

He let out a slight grunt at your oh so typical but quick response. Eyes set on you with that burning stare, you could almost get lost in that gaze of his. It wouldn't be too hard.

"Go to bed."

Brought back from your thoughts, you crossed your arms over your chest. Though before you could fire a shot back he continued.

"We need you. You're not gon' be able to function if you keep this up."

You breathed out a sigh and nodded, he was definitely right. You had to try your best to sleep because if you didn't- you wouldn't be much good to those who were injured.

"Alright. You better try to sleep too."

You didn't really get any response but you hoped he would go to bed... He was needed too and he deserved sleep.

Though you were sure you knew what kept him up at night- he's seen and had to do a lot of things.

He's still human and not immune to that factor. Despite the cold and distant nature of him, Ghost was still a person- in there was still Simon Riley.

He isn't just a shell.

Perhaps that's why he liked you, there was that sort of unspoken understanding. A warmth to you that bled over into him and his daily life.

Finding himself thinking about you more and more. The same way that you thought about him- a craving to touch and hold him but knowing he would push you away if you got too close too fast.

••

Vision was blurred and all your senses were on fire.

Last thing you heard was someone yelling your name, desperate screams- then a thunderous boom.

A certain weight leaned into you, your eyes desperately searching for the cause.

Hot and sticky liquid clung to your skin- looking down all you could see was red. Your arms, your legs, the ground... Covered in red.

Everything hurt.

Finally your eyes located it- a large piece of metal had you pinned to the ground. The sharp edge digging into your stomach. It looked almost as though at any moment it could fully give way and slice you clean in half- that possibility made you still all movement.

After that explosion you couldn't risk knocking anything loose, especially not that piece of metal.

You just had to hope and pray you'd be found in time.

You were there to tend to the injured- it was supposed to be safe. That's what they thought.

-

{HAHA- Yes it's a cliff hanger. Welcome to yet another series. Again- I have no self control.}

-

{More Content}

[evilminji]

Okay, you know how bird don't ACTUALLY look the way we think they do?

They are far more colorful? But only to the eyes of other birds?

And it has to do with how light reflects off them and how their eyes are shaped etc etc.?

Well..... humans can see the most shades of green, right? But! We sure as shit can't see UltaViolet and InfraRed? Or shades BEYOND those. Ectoplasmic colors. Magical ones. Third eye, need to see with your SOUL type ones.

Danny? Could very well still have lil baby "kitten's eyes who haven't open yet" syndrome.

He thinks the Zone is Green and his hair is white.

But it's not.

His hair is Starlight colored. Frost. His suit is specifically "the void between stars" colored. Which looks... different? Then black? No, no, guys. How can you guys not see it? It looks REALLY different! How did he not NOTICE before?! They're not ever CLOSE to the same shade! It's like calling salmon and hot pink the same. You know... if you were to compare an actual fish and some irradiated, violently glowing version of "hot pink".

......guys?

His gloves are.... guys, these ares stars. Pressed so close together there's no gap. His body is the night sky, all rearranged. He's wearing SPACE, guys.

*continues to stare at his gloves for the next five hours*

Now... why is this relevant? Because! Danny slowly, as all humans do, adjusts! It's like finally having glasses after years of blurry vision. He... forgets, what it was like, not NOT See Zone Colors. Not completely, mind you, but enough he has to be reminded.

And the Zone? A Realm of the Dead. Specifically, the great catch-all and highway of the Dead. They get EVERYBODY. Misfits and vagabonds. Those who don't quite fit. Funky lil dudes. And of course, assholes, but everybody has those! See, Zone colors?

Are DIFFERENT.

They're all of um!

It's like looking at the technicolor, stobe light, multi galaxies in one, Sun. Tingly(tm)!!! You get used to it. What helps? Is that as garish as the Zone is? The painting and grand tapestry of it all? Keeps changing. Like weather. If it's too much for you, you can stay inside your Lair until the current Color changes. Until the designs shift. Vibe changes.

There are even glasses for that! "Temperate" areas for people to set up, that get headaches or are just... kinda killjoys. Too each their own. Though the stormy areas? Those guys are freaks. Watch out for those guys. They're the kind who stare directly are stars until their eyes burn out.

Where was I? Oh yeah! Danny!

No longer a wee baby, smol baby, twig-o!

Sad. We miss it.

But he did get used to Seeing The Colors. Got a handle on his powers. And! Finally worked with his parents on how to safely turn the portal OFF. There was much booing. Cries of "kill joy" and "booo! You suck!". But? Like? Dude DID have the right to protect his home. Go to college. What can you do?

Problem with THAT is? Baby grew into his "built like a brick shit house of constantly running off to literally tackle the Supernatural excellence" Fenton genetics. He Tall. Muscles! And he PUMPING out "somethings fucked up with me" Vibes!

Add in his DEEPLY Sus off hand comments. Weird ability to tell when someone has or is about to die. Basic immunity to the cold. Fuckin EYE GLOW?

Ha ha... *Horror movie screams from his college dorm mates*

Clearly a demon!

He gets kicked out. Well... not kicked out. He's a model student and broken no rules. They'd never survive the lawsuit. But... he's? STRONGLY INCOURAGED to finish his education elsewhere. Repeatedly. By like... 15 colleges.

Sam is not just livid, she's actively foaming at the mouth.

Breathe, Sam! Remember what your doctor said! Your mortal body can't handle that kinda Vengance spiral! Think of your blood pressure! Breathe!!! (Were not for the laws of this land... and the weak, fleshy constraints of her mortal form!)

Thankfully? Tucker's been interning, remotely of course, with Wayne Industries. He asked his manager where he could find some of those scholarship forms. (Since Gotham University is just a touch out of Danny's price range.) Manager wanted to know why. And oh! Oh holy shit. Apparently? Danny is the hot new office gossip.

People in the main office are OUTRAGED. Danny's "too spooky"?! Too FUCKIN SPOOKY!? Are you KIDDING THEM? Even juicier, a Meta kid from some wacky ghost hunters turned scientists. From a line of Supernatural hunters. Wants to be a aeronautics engineer.

Ooooooh how SPOOKY! Better watch out! He'll design an ENGINE at yooooou!

Fuckin casuals. Non-Gothamites are WEAK. "Too scary" their collective asses. Yeah, maybe the kid SHOULD come too Gotham. He can be the weird kid. Mildly unsettling or something. His powers won't be SHIT in Gotham. Just remind him to buy a gas mask.

So! Danny gets his Scholarship! Merrily packs his bags for darker, Gothic hellscape hills. Unaware... that Constantine has been following reports of a "demon" that he's? 80% sure is a Banshee but MIGHT be a winter spirt with a shtick? For the past 13 colleges. He's getting closer. And this sucker is a strong one.

Not "this is going to cause me serious, life imperilling danger" strong. But more? "Man, that cat is HUUUUUGE". Could he still get mauled a lil? Yeah. Scratched to all hell and back? Probably! But DIE? Unlikely.

He just needs to know why the FUCK this spirit his hanging around colleges.

Which is made harder... by the fact that what HE sees? And what OTHER people see? When they look at this guy? Separate things. Yeah, he'd LOVE to give you guys a description! IF HE HAD ONE.

@the-witchhunter @hdgnj @hdgnj @spidori @babbling-babull @nerdpoe @lolottes

[manari-archives]

emails i can't send | CS55

It's times like these, wish I had a time machine So I could see what you did October 13th You wanna discuss, ugh, you disgust me Don't say sorry now

pairing : Carlos Sainz x Reader

warning: Cheating

word count: 1.3 k

note: this isn't based on the entire song, just a couple of lines of the song. i dont really like how this turned out and also it was really difficult to write about this song cause its so personal and heartbreaking. also english isn't my first language so any corrections feel free to let me know and any feedback is welcome :)

masterlist

It was a sunny day at the racetrack, where the screeching sounds of tires and the smell of burning rubber filled the air. Among the skilled drivers was Carlos Sainz Jr., a talented Formula One racer known for his speed and precision. The atmosphere was electrifying as fans cheered for their favourite drivers, and amidst it all, there was you.

You had met Carlos during a racing event, where you were instantly captivated by his charm and passion for the sport. Your shared love for adrenaline and adventure brought you closer, and over time, a deep and meaningful connection formed between you.

As your relationship with Carlos blossomed, you believed you had found your soulmate. The two of you shared laughter, dreams, and countless memories. However, as the days turned into weeks, a seed of doubt began to grow within you.

Months passed, and you and Carlos became inseparable. you travelled the world, experiencing the highs and lows of Carlos' racing career together. you cheered him on from the stands, your heart swelling with pride whenever he claimed victory. your love blossomed under the bright lights of the racetracks, seemingly immune to the temptations that often plagued those in the spotlight.

However, as time went on, you couldn't shake a nagging sense of doubt. Carlos would often receive attention from other women, and though he dismissed their advances, you couldn't help but wonder if he remained faithful. your fears grew stronger with each passing race, threatening to cloud your once-idyllic relationship.

One fateful night, as you lay awake in your shared apartment, you stumbled upon a message on Carlos' phone. It was a conversation that hinted at an illicit affair, casting a dark shadow over your love. your heart shattered into a million pieces, your world crumbling before your eyes.

And It was at times like these you wished you had a time machine, you thought to yourself as tears streaming down your face. The date of the message was October 13th, a date that would forever be etched in your memory. The pain of betrayal consumed you, leaving you feeling lost, betrayed, and utterly disgusted.

You confronted Carlos, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and hurt. "You wanna discuss?" you scoffed. You disgust me," you uttered, your voice barely above a whisper. Carlos was taken aback by your discovery, his eyes filled with regret and remorse. He tried to explain, He tried to explain, his words pouring out in a desperate attempt to salvage their relationship.

Your eyes flickered with a mixture of pain and skepticism. "How could you do this to me, Carlos?" you whispered, your voice trembling with raw emotion. "We were engaged, for crying out loud! I trusted you completely, and you betrayed me."

"I know I don't deserve your forgiveness right now," Carlos confessed, his voice laden with guilt. "But I want you to know that I've never stopped loving you. I let my insecurities get the best of me, and I made a terrible mistake. I'm willing to do whatever it takes to make things right, to earn back your trust."

Tears streamed down your face as you struggled to comprehend the extent of Carlos' betrayal. Conflicting emotions swirled within you—love, anger, confusion, and a glimmer of hope that your love could somehow survive this trial. You couldn't fathom how the man she loved could have betrayed you. You questioned every word, every gesture, and every memory you shared. The pain ran deep, tarnishing the beautiful memories you had created together.

The days that followed were filled with anguish and heartache. You found yourself struggling to trust again, haunted by the fear of being deceived once more. The wounds inflicted by Carlos' infidelity ran deep, and you vowed never to let herself be vulnerable again.

In the aftermath of the discovery, your world felt shattered. The love you once cherished had become tainted, and you struggled to regain your sense of self. Trust, once shattered, is not easily repaired. You distanced yourself from Carlos, needing space and time to heal.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. Each passing moment allowed you to piece together your shattered heart. You embarked on a journey of self-discovery, learning to love yourself once again and understanding that Carlos's actions were a reflection of his choices, not your worth.

Time passed, and wounds slowly healed, but the pain of Carlos's betrayal lingered in your heart. You couldn't help but wonder about the reasons behind his actions and the true extent of his infidelity. Thoughts consumed you, making it difficult to fully move on.

Don't say sorry now, you thought bitterly. The pain of his actions had left scars that ran deep, impacting your ability to trust and love wholeheartedly. Nice guys who entered your life were met with scepticism, as you found yourself constantly questioning their intentions.

Years passed, and the hurt transformed into lessons learned. The resilience you found within yourself allowed you to grow stronger, transforming your pain into wisdom. You began to understand that blaming yourself for the choices of others was both unfair and unproductive.

As time went on, you pursued your dreams and passions, focusing on personal growth and building a life of your own. The sting of Carlos's betrayal became a distant memory, overshadowed by the strength and resilience you had cultivated.

Years passed, and both you and Carlos continued on separate paths. you found solace in your journey, focusing on personal growth, career aspirations, and finding a love that would honor her worth. You began to understand that blaming yourself for the choices of others was both unfair and unproductive.

It was a sunny summer day when you stood at the altar, ready to marry your beloved partner. As the ceremony began, your heart fluttered with excitement and nervous anticipation. Little did you know that an unexpected guest would soon make an appearance.

Walking down the aisle, your eyes widened in surprise when you saw Carlos, standing among the guests, his eyes locked with yours. The past flooded back, memories and emotions intertwined, creating a bittersweet sensation within you.

After the ceremony, you sought a moment alone with Carlos. As you stood facing each other, the weight of your shared history hung heavily in the air. your eyes met, conveying a complex mix of emotions—regret, longing, and the unspoken question of what could have been.

"Carlos," you began, your voice tinged with a mixture of warmth and caution. "It's been so long. I never expected to see you here." Carlos nodded, his gaze filled with a hint of sadness. "Y/N, it's good to see you. I'll never forget what we had and I regret the pain I caused you."

You smiled sadly, your heart aching for what was lost. "We've both grown and changed, Carlos. It's best to leave the past behind us."

Years later, as you reflected on that unexpected reunion, you felt a deep sense of gratitude. Carlos had been a significant part of your life, teaching you valuable lessons about trust, forgiveness, and the complexity of love.

You had found a love that honored your worth, someone who cherished and respected you. You had built a fulfilling life, surrounded by loved ones who uplifted and supported you. Though the scars of the past remained, they served as a reminder of your strength and resilience.

Your paths had diverged, and though the possibility of rekindling your love had faded, you and Carlos remained grateful for the time you had shared and the personal growth that came from your tumultuous journey.

Love, you both understood, could take unexpected turns, teaching valuable lessons and shaping the people you had become. And as life unfolded, you carried the memories of your past love, forever changed by the experience, but grateful for the wisdom it had bestowed upon you.

As you reflect on the journey you've endured, you come to understand that love is a fragile and delicate thing. It requires trust, honesty, and mutual respect to thrive. Carlos's betrayal left scars, but it also taught you invaluable lessons about resilience and self-worth.

You realize that the choices people make are not a reflection of your value. You learn to separate their actions from your self-worth and to approach new relationships with an open heart, free from the shackles of past pain.

[ideas-4-stories]

Inspired by the "buggy gets stabbed with a seastone knife but defeats the assassin" anon and subsequent post.

Buggy really would have had SO MANY SCARS. He's immune to cuts and chops and slices. Not blunt force trauma, burns, bullets, whips, etc. Also he was a pirate apprentice on GOL D. ROGER'S SHIP!! He ate that devil fruit young, sure, but he was still a pirate before then and I highly doubt that that, nor whatever his early life was, would lead to pristine, unblemished skin.

Also - freckles. Give Buggy Freckles 2024.

Anyway, yeah, Buggy would have a MOSAIC of scars and tattoos - many of which have meanings the likes of which are lost to most. Also projection, but Buggy has a medusa tattoo somewhere on his person. Yes the one who did the tattoo for him was on the crew, and still is. Yes they are also the defacto therapist on the island. It's good pay and they get to add Names to the I'll Kill Them One Day list ((it's a whole book. With five volumes. It's on going.))

I have... an angry idea. For Buggy shrugging off seastone wounds and using his own injury as an opening. Roger would have wanted the boys STRONG but happy and safe. He saw so much of himself in Shanks that the attention was perceived as preferential treatment. Shanks was the heavy hitter with potential and skill and charisma -

Buggy was the supporting cast.

Rayleigh, unable to help Roger through the illness, through so many things, projected that onto Buggy ((Very Pearl + Connie, if you know Steven Universe, before Steven stepped in to set that record straight)). Ray would make sure Buggy was strong enough for Shanks. He put that kid through the WRINGER, and it was arguably hell. Buggy came out stronger but also far more terrified - so much so that he struggled to even utilize that strength in any true way. Rayleigh declared it a failure. Apologized to Buggy for 'failing to make him good enough'.

This did a number on him.

One thing that lasted was his frankly unsettling tolerance to water and seastone. He still works on it, and he never quite dropped it. He always has at least one seastone earring in because it's both smth he HAS to do and also it slows down his brain a little, dulling the edge of his normal panic. Like a crystal girlie but far more literal.

This isn't his first rodeo with seastone weapons either - he may have been in the East, but he was still a decently renowned criminal with a hefty bounty. He's an old hand at this!

Still hurts like a bitch though.

He'd absolutely make the dumbest puns too. "Don't worry, I'm in STABle condition! :oD"

"You need stitches, you utter buffoon."

"That wasn't very- hnn- knife of you."

"Please pass out from bloodloss."

"You cut me so deep, Hawkyyy- OW?!"

"Seas save me"

Crocodile is fighting between yelling louder, committing three felonies, laughing, and shutting the clown up. Be it by choking him or kissing him is up for debate. The doctor, used to Buggy's antics, just hands him a fidget toy. "Don't touch the wound, my supplies or try to move yet. Solve the rubix cube before you even consider getting up."

"Boring-"

"I'll tell the kitchen to make hotdogs if you do."

Buggy is now very focused on the pretty color cube.

Oh, referring to this post gotcha!

Yeah, Buggy totally would because he’s a chemist, working with all those bombs and the guy looks like he would trip sometimes while working. Buggy has to have burn scars (I’m pretty sure somewhere, someone said that Buggy has star-shaped, firework burns on his hands. Part of the reason he hides his hands away, I like that idea even that means Buggy got hurt) Now it an idea that I got when I was half-asleep, that I read in the morning with confusion… a cannonball… I don’t why my sleepy brain decided that, but now thinking about it would have to be a ricochet cannonball that he survived from (to be honest Buggy seems like a person who would survive a cannonball to the head, like some Monkey family we know) Then with probably the logical route of bullets, whips, etc… are from being hunted by marines and enemies of the Roger Pirates before he somehow blends into the background and people forgot about him.

I would say Buggy would have eaten his devil fruit around nine years old, for the AU I’m trying to writ… Also freckles… HELL FUCK YEAH!!! I love that idea; it would be so cute on him!!! Scattered all around his body, totally seen him connecting them into shapes and patterns when he’s bored and has nothing else to do.

Definably, he’s a pirate, of course he has many scars, and Buggy having at least 10 tattoos ranging from large too small. I don’t think Buggy ever has sat someone down to explain them, or maybe he has and stopped because people not understanding. Ooooooo, I look up what the Medusa tattoo means, I like to think it’s for survival and strength. With my idea for two long tattoos, I think they would be a mixture of different flowers with hidden things between them - like hidden treasure to find, those tattoos have meanings as well as some funny ones around his body as well. Because it’s Buggy, of course, he will at least have one fucking funny one.

I love an idea their defacto therapist, I think I’ve already have a OC for the job and yes, love the book called I'll Kill Them One Day list. Love that it has five volumes, you know some of those names are crossed off and it continues to grow.

This is an angry idea indeed, poor Buggy… as we see that Buggy is not supporting cast, with his followers (they are like cult followers in a way) and his crew. Basically pushed to the side for Shanks to be the one in the spotlight as the “leader” of the two (I definitely doubt that Shanks didn’t look up to Buggy during sometimes when they were cabin boys)

Oh fuck, no wonder why Buggy hasn’t talk to Rayleigh and makes my idea of them meeting as cold and awkward. Like Rayleigh would greet with nicknames from long ago, expecting the same as what he remembered last of Buggy, only to have Buggy to greet him coldy. Either, with Dark King Rayeleigh or Slivers Rayleigh instead of nicknames that he use to call Rayleigh.

Why…why projected his problems onto Buggy! Like of course that did a number on Buggy, ecspeaily after Ray apologized to Buggy for ‘failing to make him good enough’... You can’t say that to a fucking child, you know they will think it’s all their fault! I mean look at Buggy, he already has enough problems with his self-esteem, he doesn’t need anymore!!!

Poor Buggy, going thtough hell because Rayleigh wants him strong like him to keep Shanks safe because he’s being as stupid as Roger. It makes sense that Buggy can’t use his strength because of being afraid and worrying so much (Buggy is definitely a worry-wort)

I agree with Buggy has an high tolerance to water and seastone, I mean Buggy seemed to of been a really good swimmer from how angry he is from Shanks scaring him and making him swallow the Bara Bara fruit (if not, then it’s a headcanon for me that he’s a really good swimmer before he swallowed the devil fruit) You think he would just stop going into the water? I mean I can see Buggy finding those small pools of water on a beach… I forgot what they are called, anyway you think he wouldn’t go in them to feel the sea? I think Buggy would.

Oooooo a seastone earring or some other type of seastone jewelry on his body. That’s interesting, I’ve never thought about it. The seastone helps him corrals his chop chop powers from doing all the time as well. Calming his brain, dulling the edge of his normal panic is a clever way, bro probably found how much seastone he needs to do so. From this post, Buggy has to have some edibles mixed into brownies or some other type of pastry (it’s now a headcanon for me) Dude has to have some drugs to calm down with the stress that Crocodile and Mihawk have put him through.

Yeah, it's definitely not Buggy’s first rodeo with seastone weapons, I can see Buggy being hunted by people during the time after Roger was killed and I see that’s the time where most of his seastone wounds came from. I wonder now if Buggy hordes the seastone weapons that people attacked him with?… I’ve decided yes, Buggy would keep them.

I stand for Buggy making the dumbest and baddest puns when he is hurt, especially when he gets attacked by seastone weapons. It takes his mind off of the pain they give him (Also the banter between Buggy and Mihawk you made is chefs’ kiss)

Both Crocodile and Mihawk just being done with Buggy and quite disturbed by how Buggy handles his pain. Mihawk wants him to shut up and sit still, while Crocodile is fighting between screaming, committing felonies (like he hasn’t committed felonies more than enough), laughing his ass off, then wanting to either choke Buggy or kiss him to shut the clown up. That’s so them, and Buggy is getting a little shit like always.

This doctor is just like the doctor OC; Kuo-Lee, I’ve created to be the Buggy Pirates medic. Really, being done with what Buggy does and uses things to keep him still. This is so right, handing him a fidget toy, saying that if he is good than he’ll tell the kitchens to give their captain is favorite food. Yeah, that will make Buggy sit as still as he can, to be honest, Buggy isn’t one to sit still.

[damn-stark]

Chapter 23 You’re an Angel, I’m a dog

Chapter 23 of Sugar

A/N- WAIT WAIT— “I’ll never be a son.” And “I’ll never be his favorite son.” Fits Choso and mc to a tea especially in this chapter!!!

Warning- Swearing, ANGST, FLUFF, spoilers, NFSW? Not really though it’s light, talks of miscarriage, SLOW BURN, heavy pining, long chapter

Pairing- Choso x Gojo!fem-reader, Suguru Geto x Gojo!fem-reader

Takes place during- Chapters 145 & 146, and the beginning portion of 203 & 207, of the Manga

(Let me know if you want to be tagged)

————

This is Tengen? This tall pale thing?

You always imagined they’d be more majestic looking considering how old they are and the responsibility they hold, but they look more like a pale four-eyed alien.

“Aren’t you gonna say hello to me Tengen?” Yuki remarks after she was left out of his sudden greeting.

“This isn’t the first time we’ve met Yuki Tsukumo.” They finally address her and they sound annoyed. “Why did you close off the tombs of the Star Corridor? I was afraid you might be in alignment with Kenjaku. After all, I cannot see into the human heart.”

Kenjaku? Who the hell is Kenjaku?

“Kenjaku?” You probe and slide your hands off Choso’s arms now that your fear has subsided.

“The sorcerer who was Noritoshi Kamo and is now inhabiting the body of Suguru Geto,” Tengen shares.

“That name suggests compassion and salvation. Gimme a break,” Yuki snaps.

“Master Tengen, why do you look like that?” Itadori suddenly interrupts, making your eyes widen with bewilderment.

“Itadori,” you scold.

“What?” He asks you over his shoulder as if that question isn’t obviously rude to ask someone.

“You can’t ask someone that,” you whisper sharply. “Even if they are centuries old. You can’t ask that.”

“I was just curious.”

“I may be immortal,” Tengen cuts in, making both Itadori and you look forward, but that was a mistake considering they tug on a creepy-looking smile. “But I'm not immune to aging. After 500 years, you’d look like this too.”

You scrunch your nose in disgust and mentally groan.

You’d rather die than look like that.

“Eleven years ago, after failing to merge with a Star Plasma Vessel.”

“Riko Amanai,” you cut in bitterly, making all eyes fall on you, including all four of Tengen’s—“considering she died trying to get to you, why don’t you have the decency to actually say her name.”

Tengen looks into your eyes, and no matter how intimidating they actually look, you don’t falter, you challenge them and stand by your ground.

“Riko Amanai,” they give in. “After I failed to merge with her my aging accelerated and my self-awareness as an individual diminished. The very world became myself.”

“And that’s why your “voice” doesn’t proliferate,” Yuki adds before Fushiguro raises his hand and politely interjects.

“Excuse me, but…”

“We came to ask about Kenjaku’s objectives,” Okkotsu continues for Fushiguro. “And how to open the prison realm. Will you tell us what you know?”

Your face drops the annoyed hardened expression and paints on a hopeful one as you wait for a solution to your brother's predicament.

“I wish I could simply say yes,” Tengen crushes your hopes. “But there is one condition. Yuta Okkotsu, Yuki Tsukumo, Y/N Gojo…”

Huh?

“…and the Death Painting Womb. Three of you must remain here to serve as my guards.”

You roll your eyes and press your hands on your hips as your annoyance returns.

For someone so mighty they still surely sound human.

And why do they need guards?

“Guards? Aren’t you immortal?” Okkotsu steals the words out of your mind.

“Are you worried about the seal?” Maki chimes in.

“No fair!” Yuki whines. “You haven’t even told us why or for how long we’d have to do it!”

“So then shall I speak of Kenjaku?” Tengen ignores Yuki and everyone else. “His objective is to force the evolution of all human beings throughout the land of Japan.

You nod. “Yeah, yeah, he yapped on about that,” you interject. “We want to know exactly what he intends. Why didn’t he use your barrier that time and turn everyone in Japan into sorcerers via Idle transfiguration?”

“He lacks the cursed energy to do that,” Tengen says. “Cursed energy that has been refined through Uzumaki cannot return to the sorcerer...”

Well, you knew that because of Suguru. You just thought Kenjaku would be different considering he’s old and he has the technique to jump into others’ bodies.

“…triggering an evolution in each individual with a cursed technique is incredibly inefficient. The method of evolution that Kenjaku has chosen is the merging of humankind and me.”

Is that…even possible?

“Is that even possible?” Itadori voices your same concern but in a much louder way.

“Isn’t that impossible for anyone but a Star Plasma vessel?” Fushiguro mutters his question.

“Yes,” Tengen nods. “The way I was before, but now that I have evolved for the past 11 years it would not be impossible for me to merge with someone other than a Star Plasma Vessel.”

Then they should have probably tried to protect Amanai more.

“But you’re only one person right?” Choso asks. “How could you merge with multiple people?”

“I am not what you see before you at the moment,” Tengen explains, making your eyebrows knot with confusion. “My evolved soul exists all around us. As I said, my self is now the world itself. A human who merges with me transforms into something greater than a sorcerer, as a new being that is both there and not there. I posses barrier techniques so I am able to maintain this form and self-control even after evolving. However,” they input. “If humankind evolves, and even if only one person rages out of control the world will end.”

You swallow thickly out of discomfort and shift your stance.

“Why?” Yuki inquiries.

“There would be no boundaries between individuals,” Tengen says. “So evil would spread instantaneously. The impurity of a hundred million people would flood the world. What just happened to Tokyo would happen to the entire world.”

“Why would Kenjaku do that?” You ask for the curious group.

Tengen shrugs stiffly. “I do not know. As I said, I cannot read the human heart.”

Hm.

“So why don’t you just refuse to merge?” Maki asks something that should be simple to solve. Tengen wouldn't be needing guards if it was that simple.

“That is the problem,” Tengen proves you right. “Now that I have evolved I am more cursed spirit than human being. That makes me a target for cursed spirit manipulation.”

You gasp in disbelief and your world then falls silent, and all you can think about is if Miguel was right.

“Considering Kenjaku’s ability as a sorcerer he might be able to seize me the moment we encounter each other,” Tengen continues. “That is why my main body is rejecting everything at the tombs of the star corridor.”

Was it your fault? All this? All because you couldn’t even look at his body after he died?

“And the reason you want guards, right?” Okkotsu asks, making Tengen nod in agreement.

“Yes. Kenjaku is the second-most powerful barrier user after me. I don’t know when he will undo the seal of the tombs.”

Tengen surely fails to answer a lot of questions.

“Why now?” You step forward to ask with growing concern. “Kenjaku prevented a merging with a Star Plasma Vessel and forced your evolution, and wants to consume and control you through cursed manipulation.”

“Apparently he was also involved with Sukuna,” Yuki bounces in. “So he’s been a sorcerer for at least 1,000 years, so why now?”

“I,” Tengen points at their chest. “The Star Plasma Vessel, and the Six Eyes, are all connected by fate.”

You blink and slowly your confusion is replaced by disbelief while realization slowly seeps through.

“In the past, Kenjaku has twice lost to sorcerers of the Six Eyes. The second time, he took no chances and killed the Star Plasma Vessel and Six Eyes less than one month after they were born. Nonetheless, on the day of merging, the Six Eyes and Star Plasma Vessel appeared.”

“Which is why he sealed my brother away, I assume,” you interject with your thoughts.

“Yes, after that Kenjaku switched to sealing instead of eradicating the Six Eyes and began searching for the Prison Realm,” Tengen shares nonchalantly. “Because two bearers of the Six Eyes cannot appear at the same time.”

Hm. Well, thank the stars for that.

“But then the unexpected happened 11 years ago when Toji Zen’in intervened. He was physically gifted through heavenly restriction and on top of that he was an anomaly who had escaped from cursed energy.”

You try not to but you steal a glance at the son of Toji Zen’in, whom doesn’t know thanks to your brother's lack of sharing. It explains his lack of reaction now too because of it.

It sucks! You need him to know already!

“As a human being who had escaped fate through the power of restriction, he destroyed our destinies,” Tengen goes on. “Then came along a boy with cursed manipulation.”

You drop your eyes and frown sadly at the ground.

“Suddenly all the pieces had come together except for the prison realm. Then even that fell into his hands six years ago.”

Almost like fate. Cruel fate.

“So why is the Culling Games happening?” Fushiguro asks, a bit distressed.

“It is like breaking the body prior to merging,” Tengen tells all of you. “It is not impossible to merge with someone other than a star plasma vessel but is highly unlikely and would be incomplete at present. The Culling Games uses the players’ cursed energy and the boundaries binding barriers in a ritual for conveying the human beings of the country to the other side. Through that custom, he will begin the merging with me. However, in order to perform such ritual, Kenjaku has undertaken certain binding vows.”

You know your answer to Tengen’s previous request now. It’s costly for you because you don’t want to be stuck and play a waiting game, but with Okkotsu here, now you can focus on getting Satoru out. So you drown out what they have to say about the Culling Games. If you have to somehow participate in them then you’ll ask for the rules and conditions then.

All that truly matters about them is that the games will continue until every player is dead or until they all refuse to play and die, and that killing Kenjaku won’t stop the games; so that plan is diminished.

You only bring your attention back when Tengen cuts Itadori off to get the answer out of who will stay

“I will stay,” Yuki, Choso, and you volunteer at the same time, making you happy that you don’t have to be stuck with Okkotsu, and that you’ll spend more time with Choso….and Yuki!

You shouldn’t be so enthusiastic, you have your protests after all, but your heart can’t help but jump.

“Yuji, you absolutely need Okkotsu’s or this woman’s cooperation,” Choso interjects seriously so Itadori can understand his brotherly concern. “Especially if Noritoshi Kamo—if Kenjaku comes for Tengen. Ending his life means salvation for my little brothers.”

“And rest for Suguru’s body,” you input your decision, gaining the attention of the room. “So I’ll stay here to help kill Kenjaku, and get the answer on how to get Satoru out.”

“And I’m not done talking to Tengen,” Yuki shares her reasoning for staying. “Is that all right, Okkotsu?”

Okkotsu nods and his eyes almost gleam with relief and joy. “Yeah! I don’t want to leave the others.”

You focus your eyes on Okkotsu and squint slightly before you interject in a menacing voice. “Okkotsu, you help Itadori, understand? Keep the promise you made to my brother.”

Okkotsu eyes quickly find you and his relief and excitement are quick to fall and be replaced by discomfort and nerves.

“Y-yes ma'am,” he quickly assures you, causing you to scoff and then look away to avoid looking at him more than you have to.

“Thank you,” Tengen once again speaks as they begin to reach in a black portal. “This…” they trail off and pull out a dull-looking box with a stitch on one side. “…is necessary for freeing Satoru Gojo.”

You perk up and slowly fill with hope and relief.

“It is the back of the Prison Realm.”

You blink and shift your gaze back to Tengen. “Back?” You question.

“I’ve never heard of that,” Yuki muses.

“You mean like a back gate?” Itadori is finally the first to understand something instead of being the first one to probe.

“Yes, that is right,” Tengen agrees as he keeps the back gate in their large hand. “Before Kenjaku found it, the prison realm was outside my barrier. I believe it was overseas. By sealing this rear gate, I was hiding the existence of the “front”, but it was no use. Satoru Gojo Is also sealed inside the rear gate.”

“Then if we open it can we—”

“No,” Tengen breaks Itadori’s hopes. “The authority to open the gate rests with Kenjaku as the bearer of the “front”.”

Which gives you more reason to stay!

“Breaking it open requires either the inverted spear of Heaven that nullifies cursed techniques or the black rope that disrupts and cancels cursed technique effects.”

The back rope? Miguel’s destroyed black rope?

“But Satoru Gojo sealed the inverted spear of heaven overseas 11 years ago…or destroyed it! Why’d you do that Gojo!” Itadori exclaims and Fushiguro follows to do the same.

“And last year Satoru Gojo got rid of all the black rope! Why’d that guy do that?!”

Okkotsu laughs nervously and you bring your hand up to bite the tip of your manicured nail since you can’t smoke inside.

“Miguel went to Africa in search of more black rope,” you share with the group. “But he found none…isn’t that right, Okkotsu?”

Okkotsu nods. “Yes, it was a fruitless effort.”

You groan and snap your gaze to Tengen. “But there is a way? Right?”

“Yes,” Tengen lets you sigh with relief. “Among the players participating in the Culling Games is a sorcerer from a thousand years ago who calls herself Angel. Her cursed technique can extinguish any cursed energy.”

“She can extinguish cursed techniques?” Fushiguro questions.

“Yes,” Tengen reinstates. “The Angel’s cursed technique can open the “back” of the prison realm.”

“Do you know where she is?” You ask.

“The colony in the east side of Tokyo,” Tengen surprises you by saying, it seems they tend to not know a lot of important answers. “The game barriers reject me, so I don’t have any more information,” he finishes as he puts the back gate back in their portal, leaving Satoru out of arm's reach.

Yeah, you can’t get him out without the sorcerer and her technique, but you were comforted by the fact that he was close, that you could see a part of his prison, but he’s gone again. And so your worry regrows.

Choso seems to notice your disappointment and very gently pats your shoulder.

His gesture surprises you considering you’re the only one who’s given physical touch, but you welcome his comforting touch and thank him with a small but sweet smile as Tengen starts to give more information on the Culling Games. Something you probably won’t participate in because you’ll be here, so you hardly listen.

You know that if you enter a certain colony you’ll be added as a player, players get points by killing other players, and if that player's points remain the same then they could lose their technique. That's all you really gather as your mind goes back to Suguru and your impossible choice.

Guilt begins to bloom where there wasn’t any, while Miguel’s words echo in your mind.

“And you were supposed to cremate Geto’s body,”

If you had picked his body off the ground before you left, all this could have been avoided. All these problems and these outcomes would have not existed if you had given him a proper funeral. But you got swept up in your emotions and left him there.

He would’ve taken your body, Miguel was right about that too, but you couldn’t do the same. Now this is all your fault…your parents…were right…you are a weak link.

“Y/N, Yuki, and Choso will remain here to guard Master Tengen,” Maki snaps your attention back to the room. “I will return to the Zen’in clan and collect cursed tools. Soon after Satoru Gojo was sealed the Kamo and Zen’in clans cleaned out Jujutsu High's cursed warehouse. But Megumi is now the Zen’in clan's leader.”

“What?!” Itadori exclaims.

“I’ll explain later,” Fushiguro mutters to his friend.

“Thanks to that, it’s possible to search the Zen’in warehouse at length, but first, Master Tengen?”

You look between the two completely lost on what’s going on.

“Understood,” Tengen interjects. “Juzo Kumiya’s workshop right?”

“Are you sure you don’t want to go with Itadori?” You ask Choso as the kids discuss their plans. “Yuki and I can handle your father.”

Choso looks over at you at his side and responds. “I have to be the one to kill my father for what he’s done to my brothers. It's the only way they can be at peace. You,” he redirects. “Your people don’t need you? You’ve been gone from home for a while. And your daughter, will she be okay?”

The corner of your lips twitch to a smile as you hear his concern. “Yes, my people will be fine, I trust the people that are in charge, and Satori will be fine where she is,” you let him know. “We’ll just have to miss each other for a bit longer, but this is for the greater or good.” You sigh deeply.

“Hm, she’ll understand,” he tries to assure you.

“Yeah,” you whisper. “I hope.” You swallow thickly.

“Yeah, you guys go to Kinji as planned,” you hear Maki direct at Fushiguro, making you drift your attention back to the group of kids.

“Kinji?” Itadori asks for a person he could’ve met but didn’t because he was in his room the entire day.

“Kinji Hakari, a suspended third year,” Okkotsu lets Itadori know.

“Anyway we’re short-handed,” Maki adds. “So we got to rope in whoever we can.”

“Is that guy tough?” Itadori returns to the conversation about Hakari even after Maki tried to end it.

“Well,” you give your opinion. “He’s moody.”

Itadori slowly churns his head and looks at you with wide curious eyes. “You know him too?” He asks.

Choso and you share a teasing look, and then you nod. “Yes, he went to the house on the first. Not that you would know...”

“You were locked in your room,” Choso finishes your sentence.

Itadori narrows his gaze and looks between Choso and you as if trying to figure out what the two of you are getting at with your in-sync conversation.

“When he’s worked up, he’s stronger than I am.” Okkotsu shares, but he’s quickly turned down by Maki’s sly comment.

“That’s not true.”

You’d tell Itadori and Fushiguro to tell Hakari and Kirara that you sent them, even if you didn’t, but that advice wouldn’t be much help. So you just keep that to yourself and instead share something else that can help. “Hakari and Kirara are in an abandoned multistory parking lot in the Tochigi prefecture. He’s making money by becoming a bookmaker for gambling matches.”

“Gambling matches?” Itadori cuts in confused.

You nod with a proud smirk tugging on your lips. “Fights between sorcerers.”

Itadori’s eyebrows only furrow deeper. “What? That’s crazy. How do you know?”

“I’m his and Kirara's mentor. And when it comes to the fights I helped them finance the club.”

“Hm, so you’re like the Godmother?” He says without need for explanation which makes you excited.

“Yes!”

Itadori’s jaw drops and he leans over. “Do you fight?”

You grin and show off. “I’m their jackpot, honey.”

You don’t fight often, you’ve only fought a couple of times, but when you do fight you use your family name so there's always an anticipating crowd and a lot of money.

“The spectators are…” Fushiguro trails off for you to finish.

“Basically non-sorcerers.”

Both he and Itadori look at you shocked.

“Doesn’t that severely infringe upon the Jujutsu rules article 8, which is to keep confidentiality?”

You scoff and quip, “so what?”

Fushiguro and Maki both look at you with annoyance and they both mutter, “she’s just like her brother.”

Ew.

You scrunch your nose in disgust at their comparison, but you don’t say anything, you just give Fushiguro and Itadori one warning. “Among the participants of the gambling matches are some curse users, so be careful.”

Itadori is quick to nod and assure you. “Got it!”

You smile at him and Fushiguro and say your goodbye. “Take care of each other, hm?”

Fushiguro spares you a glance and gives you a stiff nod before he turns to leave with the other two, whilst Itadori gives you a thumbs up and follows the others out.

Albeit he then turns and calls out, “Choso!”

You look at said man with excitement for him, and he rightfully looks surprised by the call of his name from his little brother, but he’s quick to interject sweetly and with a charming grin. “Don’t die, okay?”

“Thanks. I appreciate it,” Itadori says before he throws Choso a wave, causing the nonchalant man to cover his face with his hand right away and sniffle?

Is he crying?

You give him all your attention and confirm your suspicion right away when you see his shoulders shake, and a tear slip past his large palm.

Yuki sees the same thing but she looks confused, whereas you can’t help but smile in admiration.

“Are you crying?” Yuki probes.

Choso waves her off, and you giggle and pat his shoulder to share your pride for the development with his brother.

“Oh, you could die happy now couldn't you, Cho?” You tease him as you lean your head over his shoulder.

He sniffles. “Just about.”

You chuckle and give his shoulder a squeeze.

At the feeling of your touch, he pulls his hand off his face and looks back at you with a watery gaze. “Can you believe it?”

You flash him a grin and nod. “I saw it. I’m sorry I couldn’t take a picture or a video. But there’ll be more times.”

“You think so?” He shares his doubts.

You nod. “I know it.”

His lips tug on a small smile and he nods in comprehension as he feels comforted by your reassurance.

Silence fills the room after that and welcomes an awkward tension. Not between Choso and you, or Yuki, Choso, and you, but between the three of you and Tengen.

“So,” Yuki rolls out. “Now what?”

“Where are we going to stay?” You ask as you look around at the white nothingness. “And what are we going to eat?”

Tengen sighs as if they're already over Yuki and you. “I have everything you need here,” they mutter.

“Hm. Okay.”

Well, this should be an interesting time…

——

*A FEW YEARS BACK*

“Oh, oh,” you exclaim and snap your eyes open to sit up—or try, you really strain yourself to sit up. “What about Cursed manipulation?” You muse softly.

Suguru slowly blinks his eyes open and sighs before he lolls his head to the side to look at you through the darkness of your room. “No,” he gently turns you down.

You pout and press your hand on his toned bare chest to lean closer. “Why not? That way you won’t feel so lonely with your technique. That way you can teach our child about your technique,” you argue your point.

A touched smile tugs on his lips and his eyes fill with love. “Baby,” Suguru coos. “I don’t want our child to share that burden. Having me carry that technique with me is enough. You know that.”

You drop your eyes on the beauty mark on his chest and gently trace it with your finger. “I know,” you whisper. “But I know how much you dislike your technique, and maybe a part of it is because no one understands. Having our girl have your technique will give you someone to bond with, a reason for your technique not to be such a pest.” You try to make him see the bright side you’re trying to let in.

But all Suguru sees is a more threatening darkness, and he doesn’t want his child to be cast with such an isolating and draining burden.

“What about,” Suguru rolls out as he slides his big and soft hand over your smaller one. “If she has your technique? Your technique is fun. A lot easier.”

You laugh softly and rid of all the lurking shadows Suguru saw crawling in his corner with a simple look in your eyes.

“It would be fun,” you go along with him as he pulls your hand to his lips to press a gentle kiss on your knuckles.

“Come here,” he reels you in so you can lay down on your side and rest your head on his chest so he can gently massage your head.

“If our baby girl has my technique she will be pursued by your family, you know that,” he adds a warning you’ve been trying to forget for your sake.

You swallow thickly and murmur, “Satoru wouldn’t let that happen.”

Or you hope so.

“Yeah,” Suguru doesn’t hesitate to agree, but he still continues with doubt laced in his voice. “But you know they’d find a way. My technique is the only reason they let us date when we were in high school.”

You manage a tender smile and nuzzle your head in his chest, but quickly find your position uncomfortable due to the baby growing inside you, so you flip to your back and wrap Suguru’s strong arm around your neck.

“So,” you change the subject so you don’t spiral in your anxiety that tends to poison you when you think of your parents taking your child. “Have you picked a name yet?”

Suguru leans his head on yours, letting you feel his throat vibrate on your head as he hums. “What about Satori?” He shares. “It means enlightenment.”

Just like Satoru’s name.

——

*NOW*

“And you were supposed to cremate Geto’s body,”

Those words keep ringing in your head like a bad and out-of-tune echo

You had made peace with the choice you made that day. You made his funeral with nobody to mourn and you were okay praying to his portrait in his shrine, but now your past plagues you and you can’t stop the guilt from consuming you.

All this death, this chaos is happening because of that one choice you didn’t make.

All the distress everyone’s living through is because of you?

“Y/N?”

You slowly twist your head towards the door and see an upside-down Yuki stopping under the doorframe.

“Are you done talking with Tengen or are you still glowering?” You remark teasingly.

Yuki scoffs and breaks away from her spot. Yet before she can join you on the bed, you quickly interject.

“Turn off the light. My head hurts.”

“Too much wine?” She quips with a snicker as she does as you ask before she moseys on over to jump on the bed.

“Yeah,” you groan and cover your eyes with your arm. “I was doing some work and was chugging that wine…”

“And now you have your head hanging off the bed,” Yuki finishes for you in a scolding voice. “I wonder why your head hurts.”

You slap your hand on your stomach and lose your gaze on the blue hue painted on your ceiling by the fake bright night sky Tengen made for all of you. Which is kind of neat and nice….you have to admit.

“You know,” you add as you get lost in thought. “It feels weird staying here. I mean we’re not above ground on school grounds, but we’re still here, and it’s weird.”

“Yeah,” Yuki muses. “Takes you back doesn’t it?”

“Hm—Oop I'm getting lightheaded now,” you mumble and throw your upper body up to drag yourself forward on the bed and then throw yourself down when you’re at Yuki’s side.

“I mean to have a cute guy fawning over you with their dreamy brown eyes is so weird,” she says in a mocking way you instantly recognize and try not to give into, but you can’t help it. You drag your eyes to your side and see she’s already passing you a teasing look.

“Har-har,” you feign a laugh and mistakenly prove her right, so she continues to push.

“Oh you could die happy couldn't you, Cho?” She changes her voice as she bats her eyelashes. “Now I’m going to bat my pretty white Gojo lashes at you, and speak in my very fancy voice which seeps with my lust for you.”

You bite the inside of your cheek and shoot her a pointed glare. “I don’t talk like that,” you remark and avert your gaze.

“You do,” she yells. “You talk in a very old money, old movie star kind of way, which if someone wouldn't know you, they’d think you’re snobby, but I guess he likes that because he drools over you with whatever comes out of your mouth.”

Your heart swoons and begins to dance all giddily, causing a smile to start tugging on your lips, but one you try to fight back.

“It’s not even like that,” you mutter in a very shaky way because of how bad you are at hiding the excitement that she is making you feel. “Shut up,” you blurt and flip around to give her your back. “I’m 28 now, I don’t giggle,” you grumble.

“Oh,” Yuki snorts. “You giggled.”

You don’t comment and watch the stars twinkling in the distance with a smile winning its territory on your face.

“Do you,” you quietly give in to your feelings, this once, out of excitement. “Think it’s obvious?”

“Not to him.”

You nod softly and welcome more silence as you let your heart gush over Choso and this conversation.

However, then Yuki's impression of you crosses your mind and you can’t help but burst out laughing. And as if in tune with your thoughts Yuki joins, and you both just laugh your asses off until you’re both out of breath.

When you collect yourselves you don’t continue to laugh however, your smile falls and you lock your feelings away, forbidding your heart from them.

It’s cruel, but it’s for the best. It’s for his sake. And no matter how much your heart weeps and begs for you to show it some sympathy, you won’t give in, you can’t give him more thought, or else you will fall and you’ll give into a happiness you don’t deserve to feel.

You prove that to yourself now, in the silence that fills the room once again, while your mind sinks back in your guilt.

Guilt you need to express before you’re overwhelmed. “Yuki…do you think…all that’s happening is my fault?”

Yuki shifts and her big brown eyes bore in the back of your head. “What do you mean?” She questions.

You let out a deep breath and turn around to face her with a watery gaze full of pain and guilt. “All that’s happening,” you clarify. “It’s my fault, isn’t it? Because I couldn’t burn his body when he died…” You trail off and feel your bottom lip tremble. “…he was my husband, I should've taken him with me and burned his body, but I left him there and Kenjaku got him because of it.”

Yuki looks into your eyes for a moment longer before she sighs and begins to share her thoughts. “You should’ve burned his body, that’s true…”

You gasp and feel like you’ve been stabbed in the heart.

“But,” she adds. “It wasn’t your fault. None of what’s happening is your fault. You should’ve burned his body because he was your partner, you should’ve given his body a resting place, but he was also the man you loved, y/n, losing him was hard. I understand why you couldn’t do it, but what happened because of that is not your fault. Kenjaku was probably already creeping around him, waiting for the right moment, it all would’ve happened eventually.”

Her answer doesn’t assure you, it doesn’t take away the agony you feel now.

“But—”

“No,” she cuts you off. “What ifs don’t exist. What happened, happened, but you are not to blame, do you understand?” She presses with a threatening narrowed glare. “This is not your guilt to carry. And you know damn well your brother and Suguru would never want you to beat yourself over it.”

Tears roll down your cheeks and you answer with a soft nod.

“It’s not your fault,” she insists as if she could see your reluctance to let your guilt go. “It’s not your fault, y/n.”

Her words strike against the guilt and work to stop it from spreading, but in order to get rid of it indefinitely you’ll just need time.

“Okay,” your voice quivers.

Yuki offers you a sweet smile and grabs your shoulder to give it a gentle squeeze that makes you smile faintly in return.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

Her smile turns to a smug grin. “Of course. I’m always here for you, y/n.”

You reach for her hand and give it a gentle squeeze, letting the silence settle, and for a comfort to finally set in your heart.

Not only that but at least now you can sleep too without having to be attacked by all your thoughts, thanks to her. You really owe her a lot.

——

*LATER THAT NIGHT. CHOSO P.O.V*

A knock raps on the door, pulling him from his slumber and putting him on instant alert. When he drifts his eyes to check the clock, the bright numbers read 2:06 am, so whoever it was must come with urgency.

Thus, he gets out of bed and walks over to open the door, and see that it’s you in your night attire.

“Y/N, are you okay?” He immediately asks with concern.

You assure him with a quiet response so as to not wake up Tsukumo. “Yeah, yeah, I just…” you trail off and glance at the ground. “I don’t want to be alone.”

Choso’s heart skips a beat and his mind completely falls blank at the sound of the vulnerability you were letting him see.

“I’m sorry if I woke you,” you quickly add as he stays with his mouth ajar. “I can go.”

“No,” he quickly finds it in him to snap out of his stupor. “Come in.”

A relieved smile grows on your lips and when you walk inside he sees your shoulders lose the tension they held, meaning you felt comfortable being in his presence, which makes him happy to see. He doesn’t want you to be uncomfortable when you’re around him.

“I’m sorry,” you repeat in a more sweeter and apologetic tone. “I know it’s late.”

Choso shakes his head and quickly assures you. “No, no, it’s okay. I don’t mind.”

You peer back and flash him a content smile before you turn and walk back toward the bed with a faint smirk. “Your hairs down,” you point out. “I like it. It looks nice.”

Once again his heart skips a beat in its rhythm, but this time a fluttering grows in his stomach that makes his face grow hot. Which is embarrassing to him, and it always happens when he’s with you.

“Thank you,” he mutters as he holds your gaze that lights his room in a way the fake night sky never did.

“Are you sure you're okay?” He makes sure to ask again.

You sit on the edge of his bed and nod. “Yes,” you smile. “I’m fine, Cho.”

The sound of that short nickname coming out of your lips sends shivers down his spine he never knew he could feel by the simplicity of a nickname.

“Okay then,” he says and glances at the bed and then at you. “You can take the bed, I’ll sleep on the ground.”

You laugh softly and drag yourself back to one side and pat the other. “Come lay with me, we’ve spent enough time together already for it to be weird.”

His face grows hotter and his heart instead begins to pound in his chest.

In all the times you’ve spent alone you're always sitting across from each other, on a couch, or at a small distance side by side, you’ve never shared a bed. He almost wants to say no out of respect for you, but he doesn’t want to wound your feelings. Plus you did say you wanted company, so he slowly approaches the bed and climbs back on his side.

“If you're not comfortable then don’t listen to me,” you let him know so he doesn’t feel forced. “Please.”

Choso turns his head and meets your red-orange eyes mixed with worry, so he assures you right away. “I don’t mind. I didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

You share a soft laugh and he can’t help but let his lips tug to a faint smile.

“Choso,” you whisper now in such a soft and vulnerable way once again.

“Hm?”

You let out a deep sigh and first roll to your side before you continue. “Will you help me? Keep me safe…please.”

You didn’t even need to ask, he already put himself in charge of that the moment he recognized you that night in Shibuya, but hearing you ask him this now just has a way to make the feelings he already has for you, intensify. He can’t even put into words how content he feels, and what other feelings are racing through his veins.

It’s like you set him on fire.

“Always,” he assures you right away.

Your lips tug to one of those sweet smiles he likes to admire on you, and suddenly, again, just like other times before, his eyes—no his whole being feels magnetized to your lips.

“I’ll always keep you safe,” he reinforces his statement.

“You promise?” You ask for reassurance as you, yourself can’t raise your eyes off his lips.

“I do.”

Instead of smiling this time, you lean in and he gives into the force attracting him to you and parts his lips to give into his desire.

Yet, before he can know the feeling of your plush lips on his, everythings gone in a flash and his eyes snap open to see an empty room, and his hard member bulging through the blankets. Again.

It seems that he always feels a pressure within him that lit his veins with wildfire whenever he thought of your lips, your soft skin under his fingertips, your body under him or over him, your perfectly sculpted face so close to him that he could feel your breaths unfurl over his lips, and or whenever he dreamed of you…like now.

And his dreams always varied. Sometimes they were sweet like the one now, but other times he dreamed of you in ways he figured out shouldn't be had by friends and always woke up with the same throbbing pressure that ached for you because of it.

At first, he didn’t know what it was he felt, his body just set on fire, making his blood rush, and causing his member to rise and grow hard to the point it throbbed when you appeared in his mind. It wasn't until he was being nosy one time and found his answer in some pages in a book he peeked in after he saw you keep smiling at it as if it held some juicy secret.

He just wanted to know what was so interesting and why you read it so much in your free time. He won’t do it again, he knows that for sure.

Now, as to how he cooled himself down? He waited sometimes for it to pass, or he went to go get some water and fresh air, hoping not to run into you.

Like he will do now because recently waiting hasn’t helped, all he feels is the need to relieve himself to the thought of you. So he gets up and leaves his room and hopes you’re not out there.

——

*YOU*

The night is cold, especially because you’re underground.

But that’s what you get for being here as some bodyguard to an enlarged four-eyed thumb.

You just want to go back to your house and finally sleep in your own bed! You miss it all terribly.

And you miss having a warm body sleeping next to you. Sometimes you’d sleep at the furthest edge to avoid the contact, but in the back of your head, you always knew there was someone there to comfort you. Now all there is a cold and empty spot.

Maybe…no, that can’t be possible. You’re too much of a horrible monster to deserve anything good. He’s too good and his heart is too pure. You’ll just corrupt him.

But—no! No.

“Ugh,” you groan and flip around to groan some more into your pillow and keep your face buried.

Maybe this way his handsome nonchalant face and his precious eyes will leave your mind alone.

Nevertheless, the door of your room suddenly opens and when you turn to face the entrance there walks in the man you were trying to stop thinking about.

“Choso,” you call out in confusion.

He usually knocks and waits for you to open the door, or for you to invite him before walking in, this time he just barged in completely out of breath.

“Y/N,” he speaks in a deep silky voice that makes goosebumps grow on your arms.

“Choso, what’s wrong?” You ask as he keeps looking at you with his eyes darker than usual.

However, he doesn’t answer you, he just walks to you and stops when he’s at the edge of the bed, making you grow more confused, but also causing your heart to start racing out of what you can only describe as excitement over his proximity and boldness.

“I want to be with you.” Choso breaks his mysterious mask and takes no time to climb over you on the bed. “Always.”

You swallow thickly and let your eyes flicker between his eyes and his pink lips that radiate his warmth and tempt you to close the gap.

“I want you to be mine,” he murmurs against your lips, making your heart burst, sending your blood to race through your veins and catch your body on fire.

“Choso,” you whisper and keep your eyes on his lips, refusing to lose sight of them, as if you were some addict seeking their next high.

“Will you let me?” He asks as he grazes his lips on yours, making you gasp and feel a growing need in your core that begins to weep for him.

“Yes,” you give in so easily and see him smile before he presses himself closer to let you feel his hard member against your throbbing core.

“You’re so…beautiful,” he muses and finally gives in to your temptation by pressing a kiss on your lips.

Albeit you can’t describe the feeling of his lips. It’s like nothing pressed against you. But instead of questioning it, you fuel your need and wrap your arms around his neck to smash his lips against yours again.

“Y/N,” he groans against your lips.

You listen to your heart and deepen the kiss, feeling his hips roll against you.

“Choso,” you moan in his mouth.

He utters your name and pulls back, but presses a hand on your cheek to not lose contact. He parts his lips again to say more but suddenly you can't hear him, and everything around him and you slowly goes to black until suddenly you’re yanked back into a void that blinds you for a second before you suddenly open your eyes and see the ceiling.

There’s no Choso and no warmth, just the ceiling, and an empty bed, meaning it was a damn dream!

A sex dream no less that just leaves your heart lonely and disappointed, and your panties wet whilst your pussy throbbed over nothing.

Great. Great!

You should’ve not even accepted the mission! Choso is everywhere now that you don’t want to think about him or his pink and inviting lips you want to taste. His pretty sunkissed brown eyes you can get lost in. The veins on his hands you want to see when he grabs onto your thighs, his defined shoulders you want to cling onto, and his beautifully sculpted abs you want to press kisses on…

Maybe…

Just maybe you can just think about him until you satisfy your need with your fingers…

No! No! What are you thinking?!

Why? Why now?

You can’t think of him like that! You can’t just let your body ache for him, you told yourself you wouldn't, so sorry to your heart, but no!

And if you stay on your bed you will fall into temptation, so you get out and march out of your room.

Alas, when you walk out you let out a sharp gasp when you run into Choso!

“Sorry,” he immediately throws out as he steps back and turns away from you. “I-I didn't mean to scare you.”

You clutch onto your heart for a different reason and quickly assure him. “No, it’s okay. It’s fine,” you murmur and make the mistake of meeting his gaze, but you can’t hold it so you yank your eyes away because of the dirty thoughts you just had of him.

“Are you okay?” He asks and that only works to reignite your desire.

“Yeah.” You nod and bring your eyes back to his gaze, and realize that he never looked away. He keeps looking with a deep intensity that you can’t look away from now and works to restart the pulse in your core.

“I just need…water,” you lie, making his jaw go slightly ajar.

“Oh,” he breathes out. “Me too.”

Great…

“Now I won’t be alone,” you play it off and lead the way to the kitchen in a loud silence in which all you can do is dart your eyes from his hands, the hall, his lips, ahead, his baggy shirt hiding his defined torso, and the approaching kitchen.

When you’re going to reach for a cup he beats you to it and reaches for two, causing you to watch how the veins form on his hands as he grasps onto the cups.

Before he can hand your cup though, to avoid letting him catch you staring, you walk over and take the water jar out of the fridge to pour some into the cups he puts on the counter for you. Once you fill his cup you pick it up and hand it to him, realizing when your eyes land on him that he’s been watching you.

“You know,” you fill the silence and turn away from him to lean back on the counter. “We might as well be drinking air, considering earlier today we walked into a white canvas, and moments after that a house appeared out of thin air.”

Choso shares a small laugh, making your smile widen.

“Well,” he says. “At least we'll go insane together.”

You chuckle with him and then say, “yeah, lucky us,” before you trail off softly and bring your cup to your lips to drink, missing the way Choso couldn’t keep his eyes off you.

When you bring your cup down you look over at him and he looks away and drinks. “Your hair’s down, it looks nice,” you tell him, making him gulp, and for his eyes to widen.

You think it's just him getting flustered so you don’t probe and instead continue and let your heart lead the way. “You know when we fought I saw you kind of lacked in hand-to-hand combat. I could help you if you want.”

Choso lowers his cup and shakes his head. “I wouldn’t want to burden you,” he doesn’t try to turn you down, he just doesn’t want to bother you.

“I don’t mind,” you quickly assure him. “I think it’ll be fun actually.”

Your eyes find each other and he unfurls a deep breath before he lets himself give in. “All right. Thank you.”

You walk to the sink and dump the water from your cup because it’s not water you needed, you needed air to keep your mind off him, but well…

“Good, we start at 8 am,” you let him know and leave the cup to turn on your heels. “Don’t be late.”

“Well,” he says lightheartedly. “There’s nowhere else to go, so. I couldn’t even if I tried.”

You laugh just like he wanted.

“Good night, Cho,” you tell him for a second time tonight.

He watches you walk away and speaks softly as if out of breath, “Goodnight y/n,”

You offer him one last smile over your shoulder before you leave the room.

Instead of returning to your bedroom though, you end up outside to finally catch some fresh air and lose your gaze on the beautiful wave of colors that rocked over the ground as if they were ocean waves, and slowly feel all your concerns and desires slip away like they would when you admire the lake by your house, or the oceans you like to travel to.

Even if you’re stuck underground, in a place that can weaken you, you don’t feel distressed, you feel…bliss in the peaceful silence.

And that is something you haven’t felt since October 31st. So you relish in it while you can before you’re faced with more disaster.

You could actually sleep out here, but in the back of your head, you do worry that something will come out of the walls, or from the surface and drag you to some depths of hell or something so you just sit back and watch the aurora borealis accompany the starry sky.

For a while longer at least because then you hear something creak behind you and you have to look out of fear it’s some kind of demon.

Luckily though it’s just your tempting desire that plagues your mind often; Choso.

“Are you spying on me?” You tease him with a playful glare.

“I,” he stammers as his cheeks grow pink. “No. I saw someone out here. I wanted to make sure it wasn’t unwanted company.”

You ease the teasing glare and offer him an assuring look. “I was just messing with you,” you let him know. “Now.” You pat the spot beside you. “Why don’t you forget we said goodnight to each other and sit with me.”

Choso steps away from the back door and shakes his head. “No, I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”

“Pft,” you brush him off with a flick of your wrist. “It’s our thing you know? Us being up late and keeping each other company. I’ve grown to really look forward to it, so come if you want I don't mind.”

You should mind. You really definitely should.

“Well,” Choso breathes out and hides his reddening cheeks by looking at the ground. “Only if it’s alright with you.”

“It is,” you reassure him.

Choso’s eyes flicker to you and he sees that you hold no ill will so he takes you up on your offer.

“You know,” you muse when he takes his seat. “That the brightest star, The North Star, is right there,” you share and point to the bright speck on the sky just above your heads. “And if you find it you’ll always find home.”

Choso’s gaze lingers on your smug little smile before he follows your finger to the biggest star in the sky.

“Or at least,” you scoff. “That’s all that stuck from what Kira told me.” You laugh softly. “They told me about all these cosmos and nothing really stuck, but that. So if you’re ever lost just find the star.”

Choso blinks and mutters, “what if I’m lost in the day?”

You snort and look at him with amusement. “Then you’re shit out of luck.”

Choso laughs and you laugh with him for a long moment before you clap and interject excitedly. “OR OR, you can always tell yourself this, Never,” you point ahead. “Eat.” You point east. “Soggy.” You point south. “Waffles.” You lastly point West and grin over the fact you remember that catchy phrase.

However, Choso doesn’t understand so he just looks at you with his thick eyebrows deeply furrowed.

“North, East, South, and West,” you clarify. “Belinda taught me.”

Choso nods in comprehension and nods slowly, but you can still see from his slightly scrunched-up nose that he’s still confused.

And you are too.

“But I guess it wouldn't make sense if you don’t know where North is…so,”

“We’re both lost?” He finishes for you as he meets your gaze with his lips picked up into a faint smile.

“Yeah,” you laugh. “We’re both lost, so it’s a good thing we have our mobile devices,” you mock him, and he catches that right away and shoots you a pointed look that only lasts for a second before he turns his head away as he can’t help but smile.

“No, but really, home is not far from here. Home is surrounded by trees to keep the community kind of hidden, it’s big for obvious reasons,” you say with a smile. “And, I actually thought of a perfect home for you and your brothers to stay at.”

Choso’s eyes snap to you admiring the colors in the sky turning from blue to red, and his jaw slightly drops. As if this is the first time he’s heard of this plan you told him hundreds of times already.

“It’s just above the lake, so close to me but not too close either,” you continue to say, letting him watch how the red hue consumes your face in such a majestic way—“it’s the house surrounded by the most trees so you get more privacy. And it’s not big enough to fit all of you, but you can build onto it. I think that’d be fun.” You look away from the sky and immediately find his softened gaze. “Don’t you think?”

Choso blinks repeatedly to break from the trance you casted on him, and shakes his head. “We’ll be fine,” he tries not to concern you, but you argue back right away.

“No, you’ll need your own space. You all will. Trust me,” you laugh dryly. “I know, because one, brothers date your best friends and break up with them, causing said friend to drop you because you remind them of your brother and they can’t handle that,” you ramble about your own past instead of actually advising him. “Two, they steal your hair products and always forget to buy you more after they finished them. They tease you until you cry and play cruel pranks in front of their friends to act cool. And lastly, they buy your child a pony without asking you first.”

Choso scoffs in a judgy way and queries the same without shame. “Your brother does that?”

You roll your head forward to watch the red hue become fiercer in color, and sigh deeply. “Yes. But you can’t blame him, we’re barely a year apart, so our dynamic shows that,” you defend your brother.

“Our parents got excited after they had their boy,” you share. “So they chose to try for another in hopes it would be another strapping boy, but I came out, cockless and became their headache.” You snicker.

There was so much Choso wanted to say to contradict you and comfort you after you just brushed off your parents disdain since he knows that feeling of saying you don’t care but deep inside it hurts. Yet he can’t form the words to say it the way he wanted, the way you would’ve comforted him, he instead tries to relate to you so you could know that there are similarities between the two of you.

“Sometimes I don’t think it matters what gender you are. I turned out to be a man along with the rest of my brothers, and Kenjaku didn’t care, he still left us like trash.”

Your heart sinks and your smile turns to a frown.

“Parents are like that if you don’t fit their perfect ideals,” he mutters.

You lay back on the grass and keep your eyes on the stars behind the red hue while your mind sadly agrees with what he said.

“Yeah,” you whisper. “They are, aren’t they? Do you…” you hesitate and let out a deep breath to let out some of that tightness in your chest that had begun to grab ahold of you. “Ever think what it would be like if you were ideal in their eyes? I think I would be less afraid, and I wouldn't have pushed myself so much.”

Choso stays quiet as he tries to come up with something he’s often thought about in his time in the void.

“I…would’ve been out 150 years ago,” he says softly but in a voice laced with spite and anger. “And I wouldn’t be as strong as I am now. I honed my technique because he left us.”

You look at aurora borealis slowly shifting to yellow above your heads and whisper, “I’m sorry.” Causing him to lay back to show his confusion better—“I must sound ungrateful and bratty compared to what you went through. That was real pain. I’m sorry.”

Choso’s eyes narrow to express his remorse before he interjects in the best way he can. “No, you don’t. Not to me.”

Tears fill your eyes and you can’t help but share a soft smile as you finally feel understood. Suguru tried to relate to you saying his parents never understood him and that they became distant, but that was just a teenage phase for him, he never really understood you. Not in the way Choso can.

It’s why it makes indulging into this dark topic a lot easier.

“Can I ask how it felt being stuck there?” You bring up timidly hoping it doesn’t upset him.

Choso lets out a deep breath through his nose and narrows his gaze on the sky, looking almost like he wanted to damn the sky because of the past that flashed through his mind.

“I’m so—”

“It’s okay,” he cuts you off before you can finish your apology, and clears his throat. “It was…dark. Like when you close your eyes and see nothing but pitch darkness. I felt my brothers, their presence, but I was still alone because we couldn’t talk, or exist, we just felt each other nearby. And the years for me didn’t pass quickly like it would for them, I felt every year pass by,” his voice quivers, and you see tears rush down his cheeks, making that ache you had already begun to feel only hurt deeper for him.

Even if you can’t know his pain, you still feel for him, especially as you see him cry.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” you murmur and wipe away the tears that broke out of your eyes to scoot closer to him and grab his hand, going unaware of his shiver the moment your warm hand touched his cold one.

“You’re here now though,” you try to comfort him. “You’re out, under the sky and with a beating heart, working every day to give your brothers peace.”

More tears run down his cheeks and you’re tempted to wipe them away, but that might be too intimate for you trying to avoid developing your feelings, so you just let your heart yearn and let him wipe away his own tears.

“Thank you, y/n,” he whispers in a sweet way that makes your heart start to race. “You’re sweet. You always have been to me. Thank you for that.”

“You deserve it, Cho.”

The corner of his lips twitch to a timid smile, and you hold each other's gaze for a lingering moment as all your hearts do is yell to give in to what you both so desperately want.

Alas, you both don’t listen to your yearning. You let go of his hand, and look back at the sky while you slowly grow somber as you grow the confidence to share something personal now that you’re being vulnerable with each other.

“Can I share something with you that only my best friend Kento knew?” You ask first.

Without hesitation, he answers. “Of course.”

You let out a shaky sigh and clasp your hands together over your chest to fiddle with your nails. “Last year a month before Suguru died, we found out we were expecting,” your voice grows softer and shakier as you fight your tears. “And then he died and…the baby went with him.

No matter how hard you hold back from crying, tears cloud your eyes and stream down your cheeks.

“No one knew,” you add. “It was too soon to tell anyone, so we kept it a secret we would have shared later on. It never happened of course…” you trail off.

“I’m so sorry,” Choso says right away.

You wipe away your tears and meet his worried gaze. “It’s okay, I've made my peace with it,” you say.

Choso’s hand twitches out of a need to cup your hand the way you comforted him, but you kept your hand on your chest and he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable by reaching over your chest, so all he offered you was assuring words even if his face expressed pity and agony because of the pain he saw in your eyes. “You didn’t deserve that.”

You could say otherwise, you could bring up multiple pieces of evidence, but you don’t want to argue so you answer with silence.

“But why,” Choso interjects, catching your attention. “Why did you share something personal with me? Me out of all people, I’m—”

“My friend,” you cut him off before he can talk bad about himself. “And I shared this with you because I find it easy talking with you. Because you’re someone I can confide in.”

Choso swallows thickly and leaves a longer silence than he intended because of his disbelief over your words which only heightens his burn for you.

“Is that okay?” You check in.

He blinks and nods softly. “Yes. It is. I find it easy talking with you too.”

You can’t help but smile and reach over to grab his hand. “Promise me something, Choso.”

Said man is left speechless so he nods.

You then proceed to fold his arm over his chest to press his hand on his heart.

“You have a good heart,” you tell him something you know he doubts. “Promise me you’ll never lose it. Hard times will come, but you’re strong, keep your heart. Promise me.”

Choso’s bottom lip trembles and his eyes glisten, only letting a couple of tears fall before he nods even if he's still hesitant to believe your kind words that have never changed.

“Good,” you whisper and let his hand go to rest yours back on your chest.

You did such a terrible job at keeping him out of your mind. You suck.

“We have to get up early today,” Choso reminds you after a few minutes of peaceful silence.

“Yeah,” you make no attempts to leave, and neither does he. “We’ll pay for it in the afternoon.”

“Hm.”

——

*LATER THAT MORNING*

His fists are too tightly clenched and he has his feet too dug in the ground. He’s too tensed up.

Which isn’t strange to see, when he uses his cursed technique he’s always fighting fiercely. But when he’s fighting hand to hand he needs to loosen his body up more to move swiftly when the need calls or else he’ll be an easy opponent. Like now.

Instead of advising him right away though, you charge forward. When you get close you spring forward and throw your knee at his face, but he manages to barely swerve and causes you to land with your back to him.

You quickly spin around and in that moment catch him trying to swing his leg at your head, but you manage to trap his leg on your shoulder and throw your leg forward to kick his crotch, causing him to grunt and pull his leg off to stumble back.

You don’t wait for him to get better, you lunge forward and kick him to the ground before you drop down and straddle his waist to swing your arm over his face. But stop just before you can actually hit him.

“Dead,” you exclaim with a proud smirk. “Again.”

“Tsk,” he complains.

You get off him and grab his arm right away to help him back to his feet and finally share your advice. “You need to loosen up. You're too tense.”

Choso reaches for your elbow, but doesn’t make contact, he lets his hand hover under your elbow as he listens.

“You’re an easier target that way,” you continue. “You make yourself harder to move.”

“Sorry,” he says as if he was in trouble.

“Don’t apologize, it’s training,” you assure him and let his arm go to pat his shoulder and walk back to your spot to continue. “Let’s go another time and then we can take a break so you can watch Yuki and me next.”

He sighs with disappointment at his failure, so you rebuttal.

“Cho,” you press and turn to face him across the circle. “It's okay, you'll get better, that’s why we’re training.”

Choso rolls his shoulders back and lifts his fists, whilst you bend your knees a bit and clench your fists.

“Lighter on the feet,” you remind him before you run at him and hop again to bring down the strongest part of your arm on him, your elbow.

However, Choso crosses his arms and blocks the impact, making you smirk and pull your other arm back to throw him a left hook that he blocks again.

“Good,” you compliment, and then use your knee to jab his stomach and push him away from you.

This time though he doesn’t give in to the dull pain. He counters by coming at you by swinging his arm, making you dodge, just like he wanted, and quickly follows up by overwhelming you and throwing his other fist, and actually managing to nick you on the jaw before you could dodge.

“Good,” you mutter with a menacing chuckle before you shoot him a pointed glare.

Choso mirrors your glare and gets ready for your attack. Albeit instead of meeting him with a blow, you actually wrap your arms around his waist and then swing your foot back to smack your heel on his face.

Choso groans from the pain in his nose, and you try to swing around him to hug him from behind, but he wraps his arm around your neck to keep you in a headlock.

You try to squirm away, but he squeezes tighter, making you groan and dig your nails in his skin.

Choso doesn’t react to that though, instead, he brings his knee up to your stomach twice. But, he doesn’t demonstrate a finishing move, so you swing your legs around his waist and rock up with all your weight, resulting in you on the ground and him on top of you in a very uncomfortable position only because of the way his arm is still clung around your neck.

Not like it mattered to your racing heart and your need for him though; a heat still unfurls within you. While he falters.

Yet neither of you give into your desires, you ignore them and use your strength to roll back on the ground and throw him over you.

The both of you then quickly get up to face each other again, deciding not to waste a second and charging at each other.

The moment you’re close you swing your left fist, but he claps his hand together and throws his arms up to block your attempt.

“Nice,” you say between pants and get a smirk from him.

Nonetheless, you proceed to shift to the side to smack your hand on the back of his neck and push him down before you wrap your arm around his throat and throw your knee up.

Choso however, manages to block you and smacks his hands on your hips to swing you around as he turns so you can let go.

And you do but you then show off how flexible you can be after years of training, and wrap your legs around him with your back still pressed against his chest, and flip you both to the ground.

“Nice, that was quick thinking,” he compliments you between his own heavy breaths.

You snicker and don’t let get him off easy, you throw a jab over his face and swing over him to throw another hit, but he snaps his head to the side and makes your fist slam into the ground.

“Damn,” you hiss in pain and get off him to stay on your knees. “Damn.” You complain again and shake your hand.

Choso pays you no mercy, which is good, he shouldn’t because this is training and the second complaint was fake in hopes he’d worry. So you’re proud that he swings his leg. But since you were faking it the second time, you throw your upper body back to dodge and plant your hands on the ground behind your head to swiftly hurl yourself back to your feet using just the strength in your arms.

Now instead of giving Choso time to counter, or even attempt to move, you swing your leg. Choso catches your action and puts his hands out and claps them together out of instinct to use his technique, leaving you with the great opportunity to kick his face and send him to his knees the moment of impact, just out of the pure strength behind your swing.

And just to finish this round you walk around him and point your fist at his face. “And that’s dead.”

You drop your arm and offer him your hand.

Choso meets your gaze with no ill feeling and takes your offer, letting you pull him to his feet.

“Did that hurt?” You worry about him now that the session is over. “I’m sorry, Choso.”

Said man holds his cheek and covers how red it’s getting. “It’s nothing that won’t heal. You were great, y/n.”

You give your gratitude with a sweet smile before you grab his wrist and yank it down to pull him over to the bench. “You won’t heal right away like I can due to my RCT, which means it stings. Trust me I know. So let’s just put some ice on it.”

Choso parts his lips to argue since he will heal, but he can’t turn you down so he lets you sit him down, and just watches you wrap a towel around cubes of ice before you very gently press the cool towel against his cheek.

“Those were some nice moves,” you fill the silence so you can avoid getting lost on his handsome face and his pink lips just inches away from yours. “I like how you grabbed my hips and swung me around. That was quick thinking.”

Choso sits up straight and huffs. “On that last move, before you hit me, I pointed my hands out—”

“I saw that!” You exclaim and jump out of excitement. “You were totally going for a piercing blood!”

Choso chuckles softly. “I was an idiot. I could’ve dodged.”

You laugh and nod. “Yeah especially because I kind of fumbled my footing there.”

“Really?” He asks and raises his eyebrows. “I didn’t see.”

“No.” You roll your eyes playfully. “Because you were going to shoot piercing blood.”

Choso snorts and snickers, making your heart skip a beat, and your smile to turn to a beaming grin.

“I…I did see a difference when I changed my stance and lifted some weight off my feet,” Choso let you know.

“Really?” You probe curiously. “You liked it? I know some people prefer the additional weight. It makes their swings harder.”

“Well, if I add the weight when I hit instead, I find it smoother,” he says and you nod.

“Yeah, I do that too, that way I can move fast without being too tense, but making my impacts harder when I use that weight with my swings instead,” you share.

“Hm.” He hums.

You laugh softly down at the bench. “I was trying to trick you after I smacked my fist in the ground,” you let him know.

Choso’s eyebrows quirk up and he shoots you a puzzled look.

“I faked that second damn to try and distract,” you explain.

“I knew that,” he now claims, making you chuckle and roll your eyes.

“You didn't know shit!” You argue and playfully push him away.

A teasing smile tugs on his lips and he just continues to say a bunch of shit out of the high of the moment you’re both stuck in. “I knew not to check on you.”

You shake your head as you laugh, and he furrows his eyebrows and brings up a question. “Does that usually work?”

You shrug. “Sometimes, depends on who I’m fighting. But it’s not to check on me, more so my opponent let their guard down because they think I got weaker.”

“Hm. Well, it’s smart then,” he tells you softly.

You mutter, “thanks,” sweetly, and then your phone suddenly starts to ring, so pull away and grab your phone from your sweater draped over the bench.

When you check who it is you smile when you see that it’s Belinda.

“I’ll go,” Choso tries to be respectful and give you space, but you grab his wrist to assure him it’s okay before you answer the phone.

“Hello?” You greet in a sing-song voice as all you see is a wood ceiling. “Who am I talking to?”

A few seconds of silence pass before you hear your daughter's sweet voice. “Mommy!”

You grin. “Chipmunk,” you greet. “What are you doing? Why am I looking at a ceiling?”

“Oh, right,” she mumbles before she picks up the phone and finally shows her face to the camera. “Hi,” she greets again with a wave this time.

“Hi,” you don’t fail to return. “What are you doing?”

Satori flashes you a grin and points the camera at some long strings of dough. “I’m making pasta noodles,” she reveals. “Belinda's mom said that it’s important I know because I’m a girl.”

Of course, that lady would say that. Tsk.

“Oh,” you feign a laugh. “That’s…cool. You having fun?”

“What are you doing?” She cuts you off and stares hard at her screen to try and figure out the answer to her question.

“I’m training,” you let her know, making her pull back and smile again. “Actually,” you add with a growing grin. “I’m here with my friend, Choso.”

You proceed to shift so you can show him off to your daughter.

“Choso this is Satori,” you introduce him to the most important person in your life. “Satori this is Choso.”

Choso glances at you nervously as if trying to make sure it’s okay before he looks at the camera and offers your daughter a small smile. “Hello,” he greets nervously.

Satori's dark eyes narrow as she studies his face for a moment before her face eases and she smiles sweetly. “Hello,” she manages to greet without shying away since she’s behind a screen. “Uh, my mommy talks about you a lot.”

Your eyes widen and you quickly turn away. “Satori,” you quietly scold her.

“What?” She asks without understanding why you’re acting the way you are. “You and daddy always said to tell the truth. I did.”

You sigh deeply knowing you can’t say anything about it now so you just bite your tongue and wait to correct her tomorrow.

“Anyway,” you change the subject. “Satori how was your trip to—”

“Oh, Mom I have to go, I'll call you before bedtime, bye.” And just like that she ends the call and leaves you hanging.

“Well,” you clear your throat and don’t touch on what she blurted to him. “You met my daughter,” you say and shift to face Choso and press the ice back on his cheek that isn't as red as it was moments ago, but it still is swollen.

“She looks like him doesn't she?” You ask.

Choso swallows thickly and drifts his gaze away to nod before he looks back at you with a timid but soft look. “She has your smile though,” he says.

You’re caught off guard and feel your breath hitch softly before you show your flustered smile to the bench. “Thank you,” you whisper.

“Hm.”

You let out a small breath and then look back at him. “Does it hurt less?” You ask with concern.

Choso nods. “Yes, thank you. You’re sweet even though I will heal, I told you.”

“Pft,” you blow out. “Then heal right now.” You urge him to prove you wrong.

Choso narrows his gaze. “Well, it’s not how it works.” He argues.

You scoff and smirk. “Well until then I’ll worry if I want to.”

Choso’s chest rises and you know what he’s going to respond with so you beat him to it.

“Hm.”

Choso shoots you a pointed look, making you snicker as you hold his gaze.

And since he wasn’t really upset, he can’t hold back from sharing a soft smile while he gets lost in your eyes, building the tension that had already made itself a home between the two of you and urged you to just break it with an act of a kiss, or a confession.

But neither of you do, you just torture yourselves and sit in silence where only the two of you existed before suddenly Yuki’s excited shout breaks you away. “Who's ready?!”

——

*THE NEXT DAY*

“Sorry I’m late,” you make your presence known as you slide the door open to the parlor room where you’re supposed to brainstorm a battle plan.

“We haven’t started…” Yuki trails off to scoff, making you pick your eyes off the ground to watch her stuffing her face with crackers. “You’re wearing a kimono?” She says teasingly.

You flick your wrist. “Don’t make a big deal,” you brush her off and sit beside her and across from Choso.

“I hardly see you wearing them,” Yuki ignores you as she props her elbow on the table and rests her chin on her hand to lean towards you. “What’s the occasion?” She asks with a smirk.

You shoot her a pointed gaze knowing this was only about one man. “I wear kimonos often, they’re comfortable, especially when I’m on my period, like now.” you don’t give in to her taunting. “Do you wear them?” You raise a brow.

“Sometimes,” she shrugs you off.

“Well,” Choso interjects, stealing your attention away from your mentor and notice that a soft blush painted his cheeks. “I think you look very nice, Y/N.”

You can’t help but smile as you smooth out the red robe that didn’t hang tightly around your body, it fit comfortably since you were just staying indoors today.

“Thank you, Choso,” you redirect softly.

Said man swallows thickly and offers you a soft nod as you continue to hold his gaze until you feel Yuki nudge your knee.

You pinch her back under the table, making her snicker before she pinches back a bit too hard.

“Ow,” you whine and smack her hand. “Some master you are.”

Yuki chuckles and takes a sip from her tea, whilst Choso just ignores your and Yuki’s doings, and instead directs his question to you. “Would you like some tea, y/n?”

You perk up and nod. “Yeah, thanks.”

Choso grabs your empty cup and gets up to walk to the kettle, causing Yuki to mock him speechlessly.

“Mature,” you mouth and just ignore her as you fold your arms over the table to rest your head on your arms. “You know I was supposed to go to a gala today,” you murmur sadly. “I was going to wear a beautiful and expensive gown, and get all dolled up.”

“Oh, really?” Yuki probes. “Were you going with anyone?”

You smile. “Nanami to introduce him to a model slash sorcerer friend, and Shoko to get her out of work for a while. And Satoru had invited himself along, so he was going to go too.”

“Ah the media would've eaten you and your brother up,” Yuki points out. “I can read the headlines now, the ever so mysterious model, y/n, finally showing off a bit of her life tonight at blah, blah gala.”

You snicker. “Yeah, and he would’ve gotten carried away.” You can’t help but share with a bit of actual sadness that you couldn't actually see this day through like it was planned. It would've been so much fun.

“Here,” Choso interjects as he falls beside you to hand you your tea.

“Oh, thank you, Cho.” You thank him while you reach for your cup, and accidently brush your fingers over his as you take it from his grasp.

Choso offers you a nod before he retakes his seat at the same time the door opens and Tengen finally walks in.

“About time,” Yuki remarks as she sits up and folds her arms over her chest.

“Sorry, there’s much to do,” they excuse themselves while they take their seat. “Since I am late, why don’t we save casual mingling for later.”

You scoff and bring the hot cup to your lips. “We weren’t going to mingle with you,” you say bluntly and take a careful drink, realizing at that moment that the hot tea that seeped into your taste buds is prepared exactly as you like it. It’s exactly how you prepare it…

Did Choso know this from just watching you prepare your tea during those nine days?

“Gojo,” Tengen speaks in such a booming and yet elegant voice. “I know what Cursed manipulation consists of, but some of your peers aren’t aware, why don’t you share what you know since you lived with Suguru Geto.”

You swallow your drink and put the cup down. “Well,” you sigh. “There’s no limit to how many cursed spirits he can hold, but last year in the fight people call The Night Parade, he unleashed a majority of his curses. Meaning,” you add hopefully. “Kenjaku shouldn’t have many, I mean Suguru spent his lifetime collecting them, so it’s doubtful Kenjaku could’ve restored Suguru’s stock in a year.”

“What about the religious facilities?” Yuki asks. “He got curses from the non-sorcerers that worshiped him.”

You drop your gaze to your cup and shake your head. “No, I closed them all down, there was no need for them after he died.”

“Then why does Kenjaku still dress like a monk?” Choso spats.

You look at him across from you and bounce off him. “That’s what I'd like to know. I mean sure before he revealed himself it was to keep up appearances, but now? Who knows.”

“Kenjaku is tactical,” Tengen interjects and ignores the conversation between Choso and you. “He’ll find a way to work with the curses he gathered and what he had left.”

“Then let me go first,” Choso cuts in, making your eyebrows furrow in confusion, while your stomach knots together out of worry.

“You’ll die if you do,” you blurt without thinking.

Choso doesn’t notice the concern laced in your voice or the perplexity behind your eyes. “Then would you and Tsukumo fight against Noritoshi Kamo, three against one with me?”

You and Yuki share a look, but rather than expressing nonchalance like her, you share your growing concern.

“I’d be in the way right?” Choso continues to share. “So I’ll go first, draw out his cursed spirits, and get him to reveal information. If I can get him to open his domain…”

Then he’ll die. Does he not want to see that? Does his life mean so little to him?

“Then Kenjaku will have difficulty using cursed techniques,” Yuki adds in for him. “That’s when Y/N and I strike.”

“Exactly,” Choso agrees.

“I’ll say it again then,” Yuki repeats. “You’ll die.”

Choso doesn't look bothered or upset by the warning, he’s fucking nonchalant and it starts to upset you. You can’t even try to fight it for the restriction you put against yourself. The concern you felt twisting your insides, developed into anger that seeped through your veins and slowly spread out.

“I don’t care as long as we kill him,” Choso argues nonchalantly, making that anger pulse and pump faster throughout your body—“For me, my brothers, and the sake of my mother's curse, which makes up half of me and my brothers. For Yuji’s future as well.”

That anger now makes your heart pound and your jaw clench.

How dare he bring up his brother's future if he doesn’t even plan to be in it? Does he not want to stay with him, spend time with him, and fight for his survival? Why does he want to throw his life away like it meant nothing? Like it doesn’t matter?

You should be asking yourself why it upset you so much. With him gone at least your desire will fizzle out and you’ll stop thinking about him and a future you lost sight of when Suguru died. But your anger reached your mind, and clouded your reasoning, judgment, and critical thinking altogether.

All there is is pulsing anger mixing with your concern, so you can’t keep your mouth shut anymore, you interject to express emotions. “So what? You’re just going to leave Itadori here? Alone? Without you? After you just found each other.”

Choso blinks and slowly sits up, whilst his face shows his perplexity over your emotions.

“Y/N,” Yuki tries to stop you.

“No,” you spat and pierce a glare into Choso. “Why should I sit here and listen to him planning to kill himself? There’s other ways. I can help you, you don’t have to throw your life away.”

“Y/N—”

“I’ve lost so many people I care about,” you cut Yuki off with your voice shaking with anger and…fear. That’s what you felt too. That’s what you recognize coursing through you too.

“All in a span of a year,” you continue, leaving poor Choso just more confused and baffled—“why should I let someone else I care about die?”

“Because,” Yuki argues, but you keep looking deeply into Choso’s eyes. “It comes with our lifestyle. You know that more than anyone. Sure, you had a privileged upbringing, but you also grew up in this world, it comes with sacrifices. If you don’t like that then you can leave, I told you that already. Do you want to leave?”

You hold Choso’s gaze for a moment longer, and he parts his lips and looks at you with just soft disbelief now. It seems he wants to add something, but you drop your eyes and don’t let him interject. “No, Master,” you mutter.

“Good,” Yuki sighs. “Now you two listen to our plan.”

You tighten your grip around your cup and pierce your glare in the light brown tea as Yuki shares a plan she came up with Tengen. You have no protests, you’re okay with what she planned for you to do, so you never interject, nor does Choso. He just chimes in after she’s done explaining.

“Hmm, dismantling the domain huh?”

“You come after that,” Yuki clarifies.

“No, I should go first,” Choso insists, making you roll your eyes but stay quiet now.

“Domains are powerful but burnt-out cursed techniques afterward,” Choso continues. “So there’s a risk that your cursed techniques will be hard to use after a while. I know you and Tengen want to exploit that, but he won’t open his domain if he expects me to leap in. Even if beats me once it’ll convince him that the fight is only against you, Tsukumo, and y/n.”

“Alright fine,” Yuki finally gives in. “Y/N?”

“Yeah,” you mumble and take a sip of tea.

“And Y/N can’t use her fire-snake technique,” Choso protests. “Noritoshi has the advantage of knowing her every move thanks to who he’s inhabiting, he’ll see it coming and kill her.”

You almost choke on your tea, but you manage to navigate down the right pipe before you finally break your silence. “He’ll try to kill me either way because of it, I won’t be safe regardless.”

“Then let me help you,” he volunteers without hesitation. “I’ll fight what he tries to throw at you.”

The words you were going to share right away get stuck in your throat as you breathe in sharply. And that anger you held for him is forgotten for a moment as you’re now shocked.

“No,” Yuki argues for you, snapping you out of your stupor. “We stick to our plan. Y/N can handle herself. You can help when it’s your time to come out if you want to so badly.”

“Right.” You clear your throat and let your anger rush back. “I have my supreme art technique that I never showed Suguru. Trapping Noritoshi in my domain won’t work, he’ll probably overpower me, so I’ll use my supreme art technique to tire him out for Yuki.”

Choso narrows his eyes and probes with concern laced in his voice. “And you’ll have enough energy to fight after?”

You nod as you swirl the tea in your cup. “Yes, I will,” you assure him. “I’ll be okay.”

Choso looks unsure about your reassurance out of concern, but he also trusts you and believes in you, so he doesn’t argue.

“Great!” Yuki exclaims. “So we all know what we’re going to do? No protests?”

Yes, one, Choso’s willingness to sacrifice his life. It still pisses you off and makes you want to cry and fight him, but you’ve been told off already. And he doesn’t seem to want to listen, so you bite your tongue and let the plan be. Even if your heart…begins to ache.

.

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.

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A/N- If you think about Choso and mc have not spent a day apart since Shibuya

Tagged- @deniseabad1928 @secondary-character-25 @starlightanyaaa @notsaelty @d4rno @moonnime @kodzukein @yozora7154 @heijihattorisgf @elegantweirdorchest

[ask-tangotek]

Hello Hello Ev'rbody!

My name is Tango S. Tekk of the Tek variety! You can just call me Tango or tangotek!

I live in a server called Hermitcraft with my 26 other friends! Sometimes I leave to visit other servers but I don't usually stay long. My favorite servers to visit are one that's like a minigame and parkor themed world that I think I heard Etho call mcc once and my other favorite server is one with a small handful of friends that has some modifications to give it steampunk properties! I haven't visited either in a while though.

I know there was something else I used to do, another server, but I can't for the life of me remember what it was...

I'm a blazeborn human/ender/blaze hybrid. I mainly have traits of a blazeborn; like fire immunity, hotbloodedness, and hydrophobia; however I my enderian background makes for some overlap; such as hydrophobia.

I have an enderian tail but the end of it is a flame, as is my hair, though it rarely ever burns hot enough to actually burn anyone. That and my ears are really the only ender parts that are uniquely ender so most people don't actually realize it.

I've got access to the internet, and by extention Tumblr, through my holo-pad. Xisuma hooked it up a bit ago for us all to use! It doesn't quite fit the season of the steam so I haven't been using my holo-pad much but when I learned I could use Tumblr I rushed to get it out of my storage.

Someone on another server had told me about Tumblr a long time ago and I've been excited to check it out since :)

I think that's about all from me! I'm excited to be able to chat with everyone and answer all your questions!

That's all for now! Send me your asks!

Extra information under the cut

More Information and OOC:

Tango (Nicknames welcome)

age unimportant, he/him (they/them acceptable)

Blazeborn/Enderian/Human(ish) hybrid. His hair and tip of his tail have fire and he has an ender tail and ears. He is allergic to water, immune to fire, and isn't affected by negative effects (such as hunger and poison)

When he gets nervous, angry, or overwhelmed with emotion he has the tendency to burst into flames. His clothes are (usually) fireproof.

All minecraft servers are worlds and Tango lives almost exclusively in Hermitcraft. He will occasionally leave to visit other servers, like the life server or the create server. Each hc season is a new world and Tango refers to them as "the season of _____" (ie: season of the steam (10), of the dungeon (9), of the eyes (8), of the cartoon (7), etc)

This is c!Tango only! Some headcanons and cc! facts may apply (like a close knit between impulse, skizz, zed, and him) regardless of the season or lore base.

[More may be added to this eventually]

Watcher (Mod, OOC)

Obligatory: I Am Not Tango. I just wish I was

23, it/its

Most comments will be in the tags instead of in the post unless it is a Watcher comment that applies and needs to be carried on in reblogs

Has seen most of hc8, hc9, and to current hc10. Has not seen the life series

Watcher likes watching Tangos blog and will likely change his profile picture according to a lot of what's happening in the current lorbeez

This blog will be very lore and headcanon heavy

Tags:

[ askificator skdoodler | ask ] - general asks and answers

[ reblogificator | reblogs] - reblogs lol

[ "we had a taste before" | life series lore] - lore and headcanons relating to the traffic series

[ season of the steam | hc10 lore ] - hermitcraft season 10

[ season of the dungeon | hc9 lore ] - hermitcraft season 9

[ season of the eyes | hc8 lore ] - hermitcraft season 8

[ season of the cartoon | hc7 lore ] - hermitcraft season 7

Friends:

Jimmy - @ask-jimmy-solidarity

Xisuma - @ask-xisuma

Etho - @asketho

Grian - @ask-grian

Bdubs - @askbdubsblog

Guidelines:

Gem - @ask-gemgem

Joel - @ask-smallishbeans

I'm not making a super solid guidelines right now. Just use your braincells and don't be a jerk. If I have to I will eventually.

No NSFW. I may be an adult but not all adults like that stuff.

YouTube names only. SmallishBeans can be Joel but Zedaph is not Kris. No exceptions. I will not publish posts with non-youtube names.

Random Info:

Mod primary blog: @ethoslabbed

All profile pictures and headers drawn by: @daily-tango-doodles (and occasionally their main)

Divider graphics by: @saradika-graphics

Have fun!