#// me: cries into a puddle of angst

[bones-of-a-rabbit]

He was tired of you being afraid of him. Even recently, when you hadn't immediately fled at the sight of him, you were stiff and tense- well, more tense than a staffbot could be- and wouldn't look him in the eyes.

It hurt more than he wanted to admit.

He couldn't get an answer out of anyone- Sun, the Glamrocks, even the human workers in the Pizzaplex.

It was driving him mad.

He liked you. More than he probably should. But you were so scared of him. And he didn't know why.

That brought him to now- hunting through logs and security feed for nearly four hours, combing through them, searching for clues as to what happened during the time they had been infected. There was next to nothing in his system, which was only more suspect. Obviously information had been there, but he was struggling to find how to bring it back. The data recovery in his processor wasn't working, so he had elected to go through the security offices one by one to see if there was any saved data there.

Aha.

Someone had forgotten to empty the trash on a monitor, revealing a concerning amount of footage and security logs from when the virus was at its strongest. He started scanning through the logs, pausing when he came upon a log simply titled 'Damaged Staffbot'. Opening it, he scanned the text.

'3:46 a.m. Damaged Staffbot found on the second floor of the Atrium near Roxy Raceway. Arm needs to be fully replaced, wires have been torn at the upper arm.'

He closed the log, suddenly feeling a sliver of dread worm its way into his circuits. Another log.

'2:09 a.m. Damaged staffbot found near Rockstar Row. Legs have been ripped off. Total replacement required.'

Another.

'3:46 a.m. Damaged staffbot found near Gator Golf. Hands have been crushed. Total replacement required.'

Another.

'3:54 a.m. Damaged staffbot found inside the basement of Fazbear Theater. Chest has multiple deep gashes, face has been ripped open.'

Another.

Another.

Another.

And then...

'5:57 a.m. Damaged staffbot found near front entrance. Bot has been almost completely dismantled. Major repairs required.'

Robots couldn't technically feel nauseous, but he felt like he was pretty damn close. His metal fingers threatened to crush the mouse in his grip as he stared at the screen.

It was you.

No other bot would be repaired without complaint so many times, no other had the discolored plating over part of your head that you did.

Now he knew where you got it from.

You were attacked.

Multiple times.

You were terrified of him.

He had to know who did this to you.

You already know.

He clicked on the feed of the day of the final log, hands trembling ever so slightly as he forwarded through the feed watching over the front entrance. He saw Freddy and a small child (how was there a child still in the Pizzaplex) running toward the door. Then he saw himself, not far behind, a manic grin on his face, locked on the child.

He swung lower on his cable, releasing and scuttling across the floor, reaching for the child-

Something slammed into him, HARD.

He watched in shock as his past self was sent tumbling, limbs entangled with something. His past self laid limply on the floor for a moment, and he watched as the person that stopped him staggered to their feet- and his pupils shrank in horror.

It was you. Even with the less than quality video feed, he could see the discoloration on your face where your metal patch was.

No.

His past self rose to his feet, gaze locked onto you.

No.

You took a step back.

No.

He lunged, and you were too slow to move. He rammed into your upper body, sending you down onto the floor hard. You didn't move as he loomed over you, grin sharp.

He grabbed your head, and pulled.

He shut off the computer.

CONSUMING THIS LOVING THIS I LOVE LOVE LOVE THIS YOU HAVE NO IDEAAAA

ANON PLS I WOULD SACRIFICE MY FIRSTBORN TO U PLS KNOW I LOVE U

[chosok-amo]

SLIPPING THROUGH MY FINGERS: GOJO SATORU, GETO SUGURU

“suguru, help!” he sounds, pathetic. gojo satoru is a pathetic man when it comes to you. “ . . . there are so many kisses to have, soul and bone for you to crash and swear that how stars are born, so please. . ., believe me, you have to believe me,” he cries, holding your hands, begging for you to love him— love him enough to stay.

warning : age-up! satosugu, depressed! fem x reader, drug mention, trauma mention, suicide, self-harm, death mention, drowning, blood, heavy angst.

w/c : 6,2k | [☆] MASTERLIST

𝜗𝜚 . . . . i had to stop so often writing this because i can't stop crying and think that i shouldn't continue because it hurts me so bad that i have to take a cold shower and think about my life. and honestly, i wasn't supposed to write the last part but yeah..

A MINUTES AFTER YOU TRY TO KILL YOURSELF

it was too quiet. . .

gojo satoru never screams so loud in his entire life, so loud. . . the world shaking beneath his feet, ready to swallow him whole and rotten. so loud . . . he sure he can no longer hear. he ran, slipping on his way until he broke his knee on the puddle of the red, transparent liquid that spill from the bath-up.

the starling sigh, you were there. . .

“no, no, no, baby— no.”

the water, tinged with a haunting crimson, surged and overflowed, cascading into the bathroom with relentless force. it climbed steadily up gojo's legs, as if the liquid itself sought to ensnare him, to drag him down into its suffocating embrace, or just. . . mock him.

a dark mockery that seemed to whisper that it alone held the power to drown him, to swallow your trembling breaths and the last echoes of your voice. it wasn’t him, or geto suguru who was to be your executioner, but the merciless water, eager to claim your final, stutter breath.

“i-i —sorry, i’m sorry..” you stammered.

your voice stammered between choke, barely a murmur beneath the frothy waves, struggled to be heard amidst the tumult. your eyes, devoid of warmth, reflected a chilling detachment. the coldness in your gaze was almost tangible, a stark contrast to the chaotic, drowning world around you.

“suguru, help!” he sounds, pathetic.

gojo, even on the verge of your death is still so gentle, as if he's afraid you are going to die than you already are. dropping on his knees as he tries to pull your warm bodies out of the bath-up.

gojo shook his head, a soft whisper escaping from his trembling lips, “shhh, it's alright baby, it's alright, you're alright,” his mumble, each word a fragile promise against the storm of his own emotions— words and voice shaking, his bones and soul shivering. his strong arm wraps around your body, pulling you closer to his chest, feeling everything, even as his flesh trembling.

tears cascaded from the corner of your eyes, tracing silken paths down your skin, while his embrace, though trembling, sought to cradle and calm you, a sanctuary against the turbulence of your anguish.

“suguru, please help!” again, this time he shouted.

geto runs upon hearing the horror howling, and his purple irises about to peel from his face and his lungs lose air— ragged gasps, as if each inhale were stolen from him. the scene before him struck with a painful clarity: you nestled within gojo’s embrace, your body wracked with distress.

foaming at the mouth, you appeared trapped in a tormenting grip of anguish, while the open scars on your wrist bled stories of suffering and desperation. in that moment, the sight was both heart-wrenching and surreal, a vivid tableau of fear and pain, painted across the canvas of his deepest fears.

“i'm sorry— i-i'm so sorry,” you whisper between choking gasps as geto kneels beside you and your body shaking. tears cascade uncontrollably, each dropping a shimmering testament to a sudden, overwhelming regret. it is as though a profound realization has swept over you, too late to mend the wounds that have been inflicted.

the regret feels like a bitter aftertaste of the sorrow you can no longer escape. the eyes of those around you, trembling with the weight of their own anguish, are bloodshot and haunting, mirroring the crimson that flows from your wrist. in that agonizing moment, the world feels irrevocably broken, and the fleeting desire to be alive seems like a distant, unreachable dream.

they burst from the bathroom, gojo's arms wrapped tightly around you as he dashes through the chaos. your lifeless feet and hands dangle, a heavy, haunting reminder of the blood seeping steadily onto the floor. each drop forms a macabre trail, like the relentless shadow of death that clings to you, a grim companion refusing to let go.

the crimson stains splatter and pool in your wake, an anguished testament to the finality that now seems inevitable— each red stain on the ground is a haunting reminder, a stark declaration. as they run, the blood's mournful descent weaves a sorrowful narrative of moments slipping away, each drop a poignant echo of what might have been, a stark and unyielding declaration that time has run out, that it is too late.

and suddenly, everything feels like a slow motion.

6 HOUR AFTER YOU TRY TO KILL YOURSELF

the doctor spoke with a grave tone, his words laced with concern. “it appears,” he began, looking at gojo who's just sitting there with his eyes focusing on the floor, meanwhile geto standing beside him. “that she intentionally tried to overdose. we've had to act swiftly to pump the substances from her body, working to counteract the severe effects of her actions.”

geto's hand gently gripping on gojo's shoulder as they listen. his expression was one of solemn seriousness, reflecting the urgency and gravity of the situation. “we've done everything we can to stabilize her, but it's crucial that you two understand the seriousness of what she has done. this was a life-threatening situation, and we're only beginning to address the underlying issues that led to this crisis.”

the doctor continued, his voice carrying a mix of relief and concern. “fortunately, the cut on her wrist wasn't too deep,” he said, his eyes scanning the notes before them. “it seems that the severity of the injury was somewhat mitigated by her weakened state from the drugs. if she had been stronger, the outcome might have been different.”

his tone softened, acknowledging the fragile balance between the danger of the overdose and the mitigating effects of your physical condition. “we've managed to address the immediate threats, but it's crucial to understand that this is a serious wake-up call. we need to work on her recovery and the emotional struggles that led to this moment.”

if she had been stronger, the outcome might have been different,’ the words echoed repeatedly, hauntingly through the air, like a broken record stuck on a painful refrain. once, twice, three times, they reverberated through their minds, each repetition a stark reminder of how close they came to losing you, how dangerously close the edge of despair was.

even the notion of ‘almost’ carried a weight too immense to bear, a heavy presence that pressed down on their hearts. the silence that followed was thick with unspoken guilt and anguish; none of them could find the words to bridge the chasm of their shared grief. they avoided each other's gaze, unable to escape the silent blame that hung heavy between them, a suffocating testament to their collective sense of failure.

gojo stared at his hands through the thin veil of his blindfold, his fingers trembling as they traced the dried blood staining his pale skin. the sight of it was a brutal reminder of you. with a strained effort, he clenched his hands tightly, hoping to meld the dried blood with his own, as if to erase the haunting evidence of what had transpired— his last hope trying to be with you.

each breath felt like a desperate gasp, a small gap forming between his lips as he struggled to draw in air. the sensation of suffocation gripped him, a relentless pressure squeezing his chest, making each inhale a battle. despite his efforts, the air seemed insufficient, leaving him feeling as though he were on the precipice of life, teetering on the brink of an abyss that threatened to swallow him whole.

geto felt an overwhelming tide of guilt and anguish, a heavy weight pressing down on his heart. the scene that unfolded before him replayed in his mind like a relentless, agonizing loop, hunting him down like he is some kind of a fucking prey. he was haunted by the sight of your suffering, the image of your blood-streaked hands and the anguished cries that pierced the air. each moment of his own reflection, seeing the remnants of your blood on his skin and his white shirt, deepened his torment.

the sense of responsibility gnawed at him, a constant reminder of how close he came to losing you. he felt suffocated by a profound sorrow and helplessness, as if the very air around him was too thick, leaving him gasping for breath— like the death itself pointing its ugly fucking finger to his face and laugh at him, at them.

what a fucking pathetic man’ the death must be said.

the weight of the situation settled heavily on his shoulders, and the silence between him and his companions only amplified his inner turmoil. the unspoken blame and the aching realization that he couldn't undo what had happened created a chasm of despair within him, making each moment feel like an eternity of unbearable remorse.

both of them are buried in profound sea of grief, guilt, shame because a thousand moments with you that they take for granted— shame, for thinking, assume that there would be a thousand more. is it too selfish to be here?’ they thought.

that curse must be laughing at them, the higher-ups, everyone— pointing their finger from all directions. look at them, ’ they thought, those two who called themselves the strongest can even save a single soul,’ again they must be laughing, let alone a soul who is to be called the love of their life.

but nobody knows, none, not even a single soul that, oh, how your presence evokes such selflessness in them— even amid their silent, tormented reflections. they are consumed by an incessant questioning of the selfishness of their own sorrow, wondering if it is wrong to cling to their grief while you teeter on the precipice of loss.

the haunting thought persists, a cruel reminder of time's fragile nature and the profound depth of their remorse. in their heartache, they are acutely aware of the contrast between their own suffering and the delicate balance of your existence, each moment of their anguish a poignant testament to the sorrow they feel for having taken so much for granted.

is it okay to feel sad? ’ they thought.

even the very sensation of sadness and grief feels like an indulgence they do not deserve. i can't even protect her, what rights do i fucking deserve to be sad?’ they thought. to them, these emotions seem an opulent luxury, an extravagant gift they are not entitled to. in their hearts, the depth of their sorrow feels almost excessive, a poignant reminder of how their suffering pales in comparison to the magnitude of the almost loss they face.

each wave of grief feels like a grand, unwelcome opulence, an unjust reward for the pain they have caused and the moments they have squandered. the luxury of their sadness seems a cruel irony, a stark contrast to the profound emptiness of the reality they must now confront.

people passing by in front of them, throwing them a glance or two. seeing their red eyes and tears-stain cheeks, blood in their hands, in shirts, in pants, in their soul, laid bare. everyone wants to give them both a pat on the back, telling them that they are good at handling grief; howling, crying, and blaming each other. that's the proper way to handle grief.

18 HOUR AFTER YOU TRY TO KILL YOURSELF

your hands are warm, a stark contrast to the pallor of your pink lips, which have lost their vibrant hue, your eyes open still so retain their gentle softness, a quiet testament to the grace you still hold.

as you lie upon the hospital bed, draped in the drab, floral-patterned gown that clings to you, it feels woefully inadequate. the gown, mundane and worn, seems too insipid and shabby to encompass your beauty, too faded and forlorn.

“i'm sorry. . .” you mumble.

you can’t bring yourself to look at them as they sit beside your bed, their eyes red and swollen from sleepless nights, their uniforms crumpled and disheveled, their hair falling in untamed disarray. their faces have lost their vibrant hue, a stark contrast to their usual vitality.

gojo satoru’s once-brilliant blue eyes, which used to shimmer with an unyielding light, now seem dull and lifeless, even when the golden sunlight spills over them. the sunlight, which once might have enhanced the beauty of his gaze with its warm orange tones, now only serves to highlight the emptiness that has replaced his once-sparkling eyes— it's dull, it's dull, it is fucking dull.

geto suguru's strikingly handsome face is graced with a smile, tender and achingly gentle, as though he is pouring all his effort into offering you a sliver of solace. his lips tremble with a subtle quiver, betraying the deep sadness that lingers beneath his calm exterior. his once-vibrant purple irises have dimmed, their former brilliance faded to a shadow of their former selves.

you fear that they might darken further, losing their hue altogether, slipping into a void of despair where even color seems to vanish. the sight of his sorrowful eyes, so devoid of their usual spark, reflects a profound sadness that pierces the heart, a silent testament to the emotional toll of the moment.

oh, what i have done. . .’ you thought.

“don't, please don't,” gojo pleads, his voice trembling as he clasps your unharmed hand with a desperate grip. his blindfold has been removed, revealing eyes that are filled with raw, unfiltered emotion as he gazes at you. beside him, geto's hand rests gently at the back of your head, his touch tender and soothing. he caresses your hair with a featherlight motion, his thumb brushing softly over your scalp.

“we are so sorry for taking you for granted,” he murmurs, the words heavy with regret and sorrow. “we are sorry for offering you only a lukewarm love, when you deserved a love that was fierce and all-consuming, a love that burned brightly and fiercely. i'm sorry,” his voice wavers, each word an echo of their deep remorse, as they both grapple with the weight of their unspoken apologies and the profound realization of what they failed to give you.

they do not seek to question why your soul bleeds, nor do they dare to unravel the dark tapestry of your pain. the blood, flowing with a steady, silent, and disturbingly deliberate pace, engulfs you in its relentless embrace. it seeps into every corner of your being, a somber tide that threatens to consume you entirely.

they find themselves unable to confront this harrowing reality, their hearts too burdened to bear the weight of such a painful inquiry. the sight of your suffering leaves them paralyzed, unable to utter the questions that linger in their minds, as they grapple with the profound helplessness of watching you slowly succumb to the encroaching shadows.

“i love you, baby,” gojo whispers, “i'm sorry that you're in so much pain so to think death is the only salvation,” he stopped for a second, cocooning your hand with his large one before resting his cheek against. “i'm sorry i didn't notice your rage for the world and too busy loving you. does my love scare you, love? that's why you decided to leave, hm?” his voice shaking, lips quivering.

“if you are angry, stab me a little so you can feel better, make it hurt, i don't care. a little suffering would be worth it if it's by your hands, by your pretty little hands,” he murmured against your skin, his breath a warm whisper that sent shivers across your body. each word was a soft plea, wrapped in a tone that trembled with both desperation and tenderness.

his trembling lips pressed gently against your hand, each kissing a fleeting starburst of warmth against your cool skin. him— no they, stood ready to endure your pain, inviting you to inflict upon them the hurt you felt.

they stand poised to let you sink your teeth into them, to delve into their very flesh. to let you open them up, laid bare and vulnerable, just to offer you a chance to heal. just so they can love you a little too much, starving even— like a flesh begging to be knitting together over a wound. ruin me, ruin us, and we will let you.

“i love you, i love you, i love you,” he gave you stars in each between. they fucking love you like a rotten dog. “believe me when i said this. . . there are so many kisses to have, soul and bone for you to crash and swear that how stars are born, so please. . ., believe me, you have to believe me,” he cries, holding your hands, begging for you to love him— love him enough to stay, “we love you.”

he finally said we’ geto thought.

at first glance, people might assume that geto suguru’s love for you surpasses that of gojo satoru, that his love is somehow greater. yet, the truth remains that it has always been gojo satoru who harbors the most profound and boundless love for you from the very beginning. his love is vast, immense, and utterly astonishing, stretching beyond the horizons of understanding.

gojo’s devotion is a vast expanse, a love so deep and wide that it seems to defy the very limits of emotion. even geto suguru, who himself is capable of immense love, finds himself awestruck and somewhat intimidated by the sheer magnitude of gojo’s feelings. no one can truly grasp the depth of gojo’s love—not even gojo himself—such is the overwhelming, almost incomprehensible nature of his heart’s boundless devotion to you.

and sometimes it scares the shit out of geto.

but maybe, just maybe, they have a little too much love for you more than for each other, even more than for themselves— as if you make a space in their ribs, and call it home country.

30 HOUR AFTER YOU TRY TO KILL YOURSELF

geto stirred from a restless sleep, his head resting gently against your hospital bed, nestled close to your side. as he slowly opened his eyes, he was met with the soft, gentle sight of you gazing at him, a faint, tender smile gracing your lips. the serene moment, bathed in the quiet of the hospital room, brought a flicker of warmth to his weary heart, a small but profound comfort amid the lingering shadows of their shared sorrow.

“hey sunshine,” geto whispered in a hoarse croak, reaching a hand to brush your hair away from your face, “how long have you been awake?”

“long enough to notice the dark circles under your eyes and the tear stains on your cheeks,” you replied softly, your fingers brushing gently against his cheek, your thumb tenderly caressing the worn skin. geto hummed, his hand capturing yours and guiding your palm to his lips, where he planted a gentle kiss.

the touch of your skin was like a salve, soothing the ache in his weary soul. he chuckled weakly. his eyes were tired and his skin pale, but your touch made him feel alive. “you’re too observant for your own good,” he teased, his lips curving into a weary smile.

geto shifted in his chair, wincing slightly as his body protested the movement. he settled into a more comfortable position, still holding your hand in his, his thumb tracing soothing circles on the back of your knuckles.

he studied your face, taking in every detail, from the delicate flutter of your eyelashes to the subtle flush in your cheeks. the sight of you, even in this vulnerable state, filled his heart with a mixture of tenderness and protectiveness.

“how are you feeling?” he asked, his voice low and gentle, his gaze fixed on your face. he knew it was a question he had asked before, but he couldn’t help himself. he needed to hear you speak, hear your voice, just to reassure himself that you were still with him.

“like shit,” you answer.

your hand is still gently cupping his cheek, thumb running low across his skin in a loving manner. at your blunt response, geto's lip curled into a soft smile. even in your weakened state, you still had a defiant spark.

he leaned into your touch, his eyes closing briefly as he savored the sensation. “i thought we agreed no profanity,” he teased, his voice laced with affectionate humor, opening his eyes to meet your gaze. he turned his head slightly, his lips brushing against the palm of your hand in a tender kiss.

“you’ve always been a bad influence on me,” he murmured against your skin, his breath warm and ticklish. he chuckled softly, his eyes softening as he studied your face.

he took a moment to compose his words, his expression growing serious. “there was a moment,” he began, his voice a hoarse whisper, “a moment when i thought i lost you.”

your smile faltered, and your eyes softened with concern as you listened to the gravity in his voice. you reached up to gently touch his cheek again, your thumb brushing away the remnants of his sadness.

“i’m here now,” you whispered, your voice steady but filled with warmth. “you haven’t lost me.” you looked deeply into his eyes, trying to convey with your gaze the depth of your presence and the promise of your unwavering support. “and i’m not going anywhere,” you added softly, hoping to soothe the lingering fear in his heart.

his hand covers yours, holding it against his cheek as he closes his eyes, relishing in your soothing touch. for a moment, he just allows himself to bask in your presence, letting the warmth and comfort wash over him.

“i was afraid i wouldn’t get to hear you say that,” he murmured, his voice growing thicker with emotion. he opened his eyes, the raw vulnerability in his gaze bared to you, his heart laid bare.

your heart ached at the sight of his vulnerability. you gently squeezed his hand, your voice trembling with sincerity as you spoke. “i’m so sorry,” you said softly, your eyes filled with compassion.

geto’s thumb traced gentle, small circles on the back of your hand. “you have nothing to apologize for,” he assured you, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. “it was my responsibility to keep you safe, and i failed.”

the guilt and regret in his voice were palpable, the weight of his self-imposed responsibility clear. he lowered his gaze, wrestling with emotions that were etched deeply into every line of his weary face.

he lifted your hand from his cheek, bringing it to his lips and pressing a lingering kiss against your knuckles, his gaze never leaving yours. “i just need you to know how much you mean to me,” he added, his voice cracking slightly. his grip on your hand tightened, as if he was holding onto you for dear life.

geto’s lips continued to brush against your knuckles as he spoke, soft and gentle. his eyes held yours captive, the depth of his affection bared for you to see.

“you are my everything,” he confessed, his voice hoarse with the weight of his honesty. “the thought of losing you, of living in a world where you don’t exist…” he trailed off, a pained expression crossing his features. he was torn between the love that engulfed his heart and the fear that threatened to consume him.

geto drew in a shaky breath, composing himself as best he could. he lifted his gaze from your hand, meeting your eyes once again. his expression held a mixture of love and devotion, but also a hint of desperation.

“i need you to know that no matter what, i will do everything in my power to protect you,” he vowed, his voice steady despite the turbulent emotions raging within him. “not just because it’s my duty, but because i love you more than i thought it was possible to love someone.”

you met his gaze with a warm, reassuring smile, the depth of your gratitude shining through. “thank you,” you said softly, your voice imbued with genuine appreciation. your smile was a reflection of the profound comfort and reassurance you felt, a silent promise to stand together through whatever lay ahead.

geto’s eyes softened at your smile, a flicker of relief passing over his weary face. he squeezed your hand gently, his touch both appreciative and protective.

he studied your face for a moment, his gaze lingering on each contour, each freckle and line, as if to further commit them to memory. “don’t scare me like that again,” he murmured, mostly in jest, but with an underlying current of seriousness.

gojo entered the room, his expression a mix of relief and lingering concern as he carried a bag of your belongings. upon seeing the tender moment between you and geto, his eyes softened, though they carried a hint of the exhaustion and worry that had shadowed him. he set the bag down and approached, took a sit at the edge on the other side of your bed, his voice catching slightly as he spoke.

“don’t scare me like that again too,” he said, his tone gentle but tinged with the weight of his emotions. his gaze met yours with a blend of earnestness and relief. “i know suguru’s been holding on tight, but i’ve been right here, too. seeing you like this... it’s been hard on all of us. please, don't leave us.” his words were a heartfelt plea, an echo of the concern and love he carried for you, a testament to the depth of his feelings and the strength of his devotion.

geto’s grip on your hand tightened momentarily at the sound of gojo’s voice, his eyes darting towards his best friend. he could hear the exhaustion and worry that laced gojo’s words and knew all-too-well the weight of the responsibility they shared.

he turned his gaze back to you, his expression a mix of worry and relief. his thumb resumed its gentle, soothing circles on the back of your hand. “yeah,” he said in agreement, his voice gruff with emotion. “please, don’t scare us like that again.”

gojo’s presence brought with it a sense of familiarity, a comfort that was both grounding and reassuring. he reached out and placed a gentle hand on your arm, his touch a silent expression of his affection and concern.

he studied your face, his eyes tracing every contour, every line, as if to commit the sight to memory. “how are you feeling?” he asked, his voice softer now, though still tinged with worry. “i wanna say like shit but suguru said no profanity,” you puff a little chuckle.

geto gives a little scoff at your comment, his expression laced with a mixture of annoyance and affection. he rolls his eyes playfully and mutters, “you’re such a bad influence.”

gojo’s lips curled into a small smirk before he turned his gaze back to you, the lines around his eyes creasing with a mix of amusement and relief. “can’t have you talking like that,” he teased, his words light but carrying a hint of genuine concern.

gojo studying your face carefully before speaking ever so softly, “well, apart from the obviously crappy mood geto’s been in, you look good. your color is better.” he noticed a faint crimson crushed on your cheeks, a little pink on your lips.

he reached his hand out to smooth a strand of hair away from your forehead, his touch light and tender. his gaze wandered from your face to where geto still held your hand, his eyes reflecting a subtle hint of appreciation.

geto watched gojo's gentle touch, his grip on your hand unconsciously tightening a little bit in response. his expression was a mixture of protectiveness and vulnerability, his eyes betraying the fear and worry that still tugged at his heart.

he took the moment to observe the soft interplay of emotions between you and gojo, the easy familiarity and the deep bond that existed between you all. he could sense the weight of gojo's concern as he studied your face, the care and attention in his touch.

gojo's voice was soft as he continued, his gaze still fixed on your face. “so, how are you feeling, for real?” he asked, his tone a gentle echo of geto's earlier question. “any pain? any discomfort?”

geto looked at you, his eyes silently pleading for you to be honest. he was hanging off your every word, each response a small insight into your well-being.

you took a deep breath, feeling the weight of their concern pressing down on you. meeting gojo’s gentle gaze and then turning to geto’s silent plea, you spoke with a mixture of remorse and honesty. “i’m sorry,” you began, your voice trembling slightly. “i’m sorry for how i handled things. i know i should have talked to you both, but i didn’t—i tried to take matters into my own hands without thinking it through first.”

your eyes reflected a deep sense of shame and regret as you continued. “i actually feel like absolute shit right now, and i’m ashamed of myself for thinking i could find a quick solution without considering the impact it would have on you both.” you looked at them, hoping your words conveyed the depth of your remorse and the sincerity of your apology, wanting them to understand that your actions were not a reflection of your feelings for them, but rather a moment of misguided desperation.

gojo's expression softened with understanding, his eyes filled with compassion. he knew the weight of your words, the regret and shame that clung to them. he reached his hand back to your arm, his touch gentle and reassuring.

geto's gaze was a mix of surprise and relief as he processed your apology. his hand around yours tightened slightly, his thumb tracing reassuring circles on your skin. “it's okay,” he said, his voice hoarse with emotion. “we all have moments of weakness. what matters is that you're here, safe and alive.”

you felt a wave of gratitude wash over you at their responses, their understanding and compassion a balm to your wounded spirit. “thank you,” you said softly, your voice thick with emotion. “thank you for not being angry with me and for not questioning me right away. i know i made a terrible mistake, and i’m grateful you’re here, supporting me instead of condemning me.”

geto's grip on your hand tightened slightly, his eyes filled with a complex mixture of emotions— relief, love, and a hint of lingering fear. he shook his head gently, a reassuring smile on his lips.

gojo chuckled softly, his eyes filled with a mixture of compassion and playfulness. “we can save the anger and lecturing for when you’re not looking so terrible,” he joked, a wry smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “and trust me, baby, i had a lot of choice colorful words for you when the right time comes,” he lean in to kiss your forehead, “but right now, we just trying to be here for you.”

geto nodded in agreement, his grip on your hand still tight. he couldn’t help but roll his eyes a bit at gojo's playfulness, but there was a hint of fondness beneath the feigned annoyance.

he leaned in, reaching out with his other hand to gently brush a strand of hair off your forehead. “you are a stubborn, reckless, and stubborn pain in the ass,” he scolded lightly, his tone a soft but affectionate mix.

gojo chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners with humor. he settled himself closer, his hand still resting lightly on your arm. “he's right, you know,” he chimed in, his smile wide. “you're very good at pushing our buttons and getting under our skin.”

geto's lips curled into a small smile, his expression a mixture of feigned anger and affection. “and you're even better at making us worry,” he added, his tone light but underlined with the gravity of their concern. “but we care about you more than anything,” he added, his gaze softening as he looked at you. “so you better not do something like that again, you hear me?” his voice held a hint of authority, but mostly it was filled with love and concern.

geto's smile grew a bit wider, his eyes crinkling endearingly at the corners. “yeah,” he said, his voice firm. “you better listen. we don’t need anymore of these near-death experiences from you.”

gojo chimed in enthusiastically, leaning in a bit closer. “yeah, cause let me tell you, i can’t handle any more gray hairs than i already have.”

geto's grip on your hand tightened again, his expression a mix of sternness and vulnerability. he looked at you intently, his gaze locking with yours. “he's right,” he echoed, his voice firm but filled with warmth and care. “no more reckless decisions. no more putting yourself in danger. you hear us, my love?”

gojo nodded in agreement, his expression serious but eyes softened with concern. he added, “yeah, we can't keep having our hearts in our throats like this. it's not good for our health, you know.” geto's hand caressed your arm gently, a silent plea for your understanding. “we just want you safe and sound. that’s all we ask.”

a hint of vulnerability flashed across geto's face, his expression betraying the weight of his words. he locked eyes with you, his gaze filled with a mixture of pleading and sincerity.

“we just want to know that you're safe,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “that you're not recklessly endangering yourself anymore.”

gojo leaned in closer, his hand resting on your arm lightly. “we can't bear the thought of something happening to you again,” he chimed in, his tone carrying an undercurrent of worry.

they continued to exchange tender words and earnest pleas, their voices overlapping in a chorus of concern and affection. each spoke fervently about their love and the lengths they would go to ensure your safety and happiness. their words, though filled with their own fears and frustrations, were underscored by a deep, unwavering care for you.

as you watched them, a soft smile touched your lips. their earnest devotion, their refusal to let you face this alone, filled you with a profound sense of comfort and gratitude. you could see their love in every gesture and hear it in every word, and it warmed your heart. despite the gravity of the situation, their caring presence made you feel cherished and supported, giving you strength even in the midst of your own turmoil.

after a few moments of their heartfelt declarations, the room fell into a short silence, the weight of their words lingering in the air.

gojo ran a hand through his hair, a gesture of nervous energy. “and just so you know, suguru here basically took a week off work to sit by your bedside like a damn watchdog, he even almost made the rainbow dragon eat gakuganji because that fucker won't let him leave.” geto, caught off guard by the sudden revelation, flushed faintly and shot a glare at gojo.

geto, taken aback, shot a sharp look at gojo before retort, “you clearly about to hollow purple the higher-ups and the entire school because they won't let you stay here with her.” gojo's expression darkened for a moment, “you know i would do it in a heartbeat, if i could.” geto's grip on your hand tightened, his gaze still fixed on gojo. “i know you would. and i'd be right there with you.”

gojo and geto turned their attention back to you when they heard your soft chuckling, their expressions a mix of relief and amusement at hearing you laugh.

gojo chuckled as well, “you find that funny, huh?” he said, a smile tugging at his lips. geto rolled his eyes a bit, but his own smile betrayed his true feelings. he couldn't stay serious when you laughed. “just the thought of us going rogue and taking down the entire school system for you is amusing, i guess,” he said, his tone laced with sarcasm.

you hummed in satisfaction, “they are shit anyway.” a gentle smile lingering on your pale lips.

gojo chuckled warmly, his eyes sparkling at your comment. “ah, and there’s that signature wit of yours coming back.”

geto, still feigning annoyance but struggling to hide a grin, shook his head slightly. “still as blunt and unfiltered as ever,” he said, his eyes soft.

you glances at both of them, the comforting silence lingering between you, and with a tender smile, you mouthed softly, “i love you.” your cheeks flushed a delicate crimson beneath your pale complexion as you kissed their cheek.

gojo and geto exchanged a brief glance at your sweet words and soft kisses, their hearts swelling with warmth and love. gojo's hand reached out to stroke your hair, his touch gentle and loving. “we love you too,” he said softly.

geto's smile widened as he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. “always,” he breathed, his voice filled with tenderness.

the thought of you coming back to them is warm.

TAGLIST :

@junni-berry @fortunatelyfurrygiver @soraya-daydreams @diorzs @dancing--devils @iloveboysinred @bounie1 @nina3871 @ohnotheusernameisbroken

[emmyrosee]

hiya emmyy

i’m in love with your soft bf!sukuna pieces they’re just, melting me into a puddle of simp- so.. i saw your post abt angst so what would you think abt sukuna and y/n arguing, and making up after that? i dunno why but i’m just picturing him texting you to eat your meals and drink water and take your meds, even tho he acts like he doesn’t care at all 🫣 (did i js want that in bf? yes )

thank you so much for providing a lots of pieces for simps like me (who pretty much simp over anyone they can) and i might show up in your notifications bombarding your posts with likes but i hope you don’t mind ;)

hope you’re having a good day (and get good rest, water, food (and meds if you take them!)) <3

-sky :)

SUKUNA ANGST BUT HIM BEING DOTING MY BELOVED 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

When you banish him to the couch for the night, he merely scoffs and grabs his pillow to make his way for it, but he hears your soft cries and his heart breaks just enough to make whatever you were fighting about seem beyond unimportant.

He takes his phone out to scroll on through it, trying to distract himself from the situation, too stubborn to fully cave into the guilt. But then he sees the time, and he sends you a text.

SENT don’t forget to take your medicine.

I think there’s a bottle of gatorade in the fridge. Drink that and have one of my protein shakes, since we didn’t eat tonight

dummy 🙄 why do you care?

SENT because I still fucking love you?? Duh??

Fights aren’t going to change that fact, idiot

He clicks his phone off and lays an arm over his eyes to block out the automatic lamp and the moonlight that creeps in from the curtains and into the big living room, and he tries not to look as you come stalking back out of the bedroom and approach him.

“You remembered that I have to take my meds,” you swallow thickly.

He scoffs, “and?”

He hears you shuffle awkwardly, “we’ve just… been fighting so long, I thought you would’ve forgotten, too- because I did.”

Now, he finally peeks at you from his arm, “I’m never going to forget something that important. You know that.”

He watches as you timidly, raise a hand to lay on his thigh, thumb stroking the muscle lovingly, “I’m sorry I banished you to the couch.” You look down in shame, “I never want us to go to bed separate… I don’t want to be the couple that does this, who needs to do this.”

“I didn’t do this,” he grumbles.

“I know; but I only did it because I was hurt, Sukuna. Please understand where I was coming from.”

This makes his heart jerk and tighten, his arm finally coming down to look at you fully, and with a click of his tongue, he reaches down to lace his hand with yours, and he sighs, “I know I’m not the easiest guy to work shit out with, so I get it.”

You sniffle, “Will you… maybe… come back to bed? With me?”

He ponders his options for a minute. He could go back to bed, condition you into thinking that it was okay and you’ll always pull this crap on him. But you look so sad, so heartbroken and wearing your heart on your sleeve-

And hey. Maybe he likes watching you grovel a little bit.

He clicks his tongue and makes a move to get you off his legs, and you smile excitedly. “Alright,” he gruffs. “Pull this shit again though, and I’m sleeping on the porch swing at ma’s.”

You nod your head, and as he sits up, he plants a kiss to your knuckles, squeezing your hand lovingly.

“I’m serious.”

“I know you are, Kuna.”

[imsandra]

I see

Pairing: Azriel x female reader

Summary: Azriel and Y/N, a couple who have shared a long and deep connection, face a crisis in their relationship.

Warning: Angst, sadness

Word Count: 1489

Notes: Hi! This is my first time writing, I hope you like this story and leave your comments about what you thought, suggestions, everything is welcome as long as it is with the motivation to teach and with respect. English is not my language, so I apologize for any spelling or grammar issues.

The story is original, I wrote it myself. Please do not copy and plagiarize my story.

I appreciate the comments, reblogs and likes that I receive. Kisses ❤️.

Happy reading!

He see (2)

Azriel had always enjoyed waking up next to her every morning. His black-and-white days, she painted them golden like the light of day, like the sun at every dawn; with a calm like the waters of the River Sidra. But things fall apart, and time breaks hearts.

During the first years of their relationship, life was a garden with beautiful colors, a clear sky, many flowers, and a large fountain full of futures. And so it lasted for centuries, until that garden was no longer watered and that fountain gradually dried up.

Another night in which he doesn't show up again, again, again...

Tonight, was or is the night of their anniversary. Y/N sat in the dining room she had decorated as she had many times for a romantic dinner, dressed in a beautiful dress, but the master of spies never arrived.

The next morning, she heard the door of the room they shared open. She just kept pretending to be asleep and that she hadn't cried all night as she had the last few times, and he could only observe the figure of the woman who had once calmed every nightmare with the warmth of her arms, as if she were only constant agony instead of his peace.

Y/N was walking through the streets of Velaris on her way to work when Azriel bumped into her and the coffee she was holding spilled on both of them. The beautiful girl couldn't have a worse day than that, she was late and her favorite coffee was spilled on the chest of the handsome man who was now holding her hand to keep her from falling to the floor. When she finally looked up, each of their senses felt stunned, his and hers. Azriel could only see her beautiful eyes, her face kissed by the rays of the sun, her lips so pure, while she couldn't take her eyes off his honey-brown eyes like the coffee she ordered every morning, her dark hair like the night she saw through her window at home.

"Oh, no! I'm so sorry," Azriel stammered, embarrassed, and released her hand as slowly as possible so as not to lose her warmth so quickly.

Y/N smiled slowly, shaking her head. "Don't worry, it happens to anyone, I should thank you for saving my butt from that horrible puddle on the floor," she said, laughing in the most nervous way she had ever been.

Azriel couldn't help but laugh. "I think I owe you a new coffee," he said as he looked at his stained shirt.

"Maybe, but I think it will be another time," she said smiling.

Who could forget that day?

"So, can you tell me where you were last night?" Y/N asked in a resigned voice.

"On a mission in the Summer Court," replied the shadow-singer, a vague answer that meant nothing to her.

"A mission, what smells of lotus flower and a touch of lavender? Tell me," she questioned with a calm voice but was more than broken.

"Y/N, let's not start this argument again."

For Azriel, it was just another argument, just one more he had that day. He couldn't see that he was doing things wrong. That with each passing day, he was breaking her a little more. He was the cause of it.

Y/N stared fixedly at Azriel, searching for any sign that he was willing to tell her what was going on. She was giving him an opportunity, and he was simply rejecting it.

"Honey, you look tired," Feyre whispered from the other side of the coffee table.

"I am, every day, I am," Y/N said in a choked voice as she tried to hold back her tears.

"Azriel is an important part of the family, but so are you. You're my friend and it hurts me to see you like this, like a ghost waiting in the corner of the room where he's not going to come in," Feyre told Y/N as she hugged her and stroked her hair.

There was no worse torture than feeling one's own heart bleeding in the darkness, while despair consumed her day after day, wondering what she had done to deserve such pain.

The front door opened and Y/N entered. She didn't expect to find Azriel in the living room. It was strange to see him sitting there with his gaze lost in the wall. He turned to look at her but could no longer see the spark that had kept the flame alive once, and she could no longer see that look that would tell her that no matter what happened, he would always be there. Two strangers living in the same house, two people who had been lovers.

Neither of them knew what to say, neither was willing to let go, not for love, but out of habit.

"I'm glad you're home," Y/N whispered, breaking the silence.

Azriel didn't answer. Deep down, he knew he had crossed the line, that it wasn't his home anymore.

"Did you ever think of telling me?" the woman he considered the love of his life moaned. "Did you ever see me through her when you kissed her?" as she continued to question, raising her voice a little more each time. "Didn't I make you happy?"

"Y/N..." Azriel whispered, before being interrupted by the woman who was his girl.

"No, no, don't try to lie to me," the beautiful woman shouted, knowing that her beloved would try to do it like the last time, but she was so tired.

"I wasn't going to, it was never my intention, but I had to do it to know," the shadow-singer expressed with a lump in his throat.

"Know what? That you didn't want to be with me anymore?" she affirmed with a broken voice.

"Yes," Azriel revealed.

The shadow-singer watched as the woman who was his, tears welled up in her eyes, as she crumbled at the affirmation of the fact she already sensed. Azriel couldn't help but wonder where his decision would lead him. Would she be okay? Would he regret it? He took a step forward to try to comfort her, and she couldn't help but take a step back when she saw that he wanted to get closer to her.

With the sharp pain in her soul and with tears running down her cheeks, the same ones he had kissed, she approached him while taking off the necklace Azriel had given her on their fifth anniversary as a symbol of pure love, one that would transcend even death. What a great lie, for her, in his eyes he was a liar, a promise breaker.

Y/N extended the hand that held the necklace with a yellow stone, a happiness that evaporated over time. Azriel was forced to accept it back, he knew her more than anything and yet he made his decision.

"I want you to leave," the woman ordered as she looked him directly in the eyes, for him to see how she broke him, how she broke them.

"She is my mate," Azriel revealed with watery eyes and a look of longing.

For him, a mating bond had always been important, feeling his other half through the bond, so he decided to get to know the other woman while Y/N always waited for him awake every night to welcome him home. She, who had always made him happy despite considering herself a complicated person and unworthy of that love. He wanted to stay with her, but his yearning was stronger.

"I see, you chose her, her who barely knows you, not me who has spent almost my whole life with you, wishing you would always spend time with me," Y/N whispered with a broken voice and full of pain. "I want you to leave Azriel," she asked again.

"Forgive me Y/N, I didn't want it to end like this," he murmured, and so the shadow-singer took his things and crossed the threshold.

The door he had crossed so many times with joy just because he would find her on the other side waiting for him, but she would never wait for him again, not anymore.

She collapsed on the floor when the door clicked shut, crying over the loss of a love, like a sad song in the dark room her heart beat. What she thought was going to be forever, was momentary.

I read them!

[liketolovexx]

heyyy, can i request good old enemies to lovers with so much angst but ends with fluff with sirius??? maybe they used to be friends before and Sirius just suddenly turned cold? and the reader was giving the same energy and all they do is bicker and one time the reader just burst out about how siri is being a prick and then it ends with confession?? it's very long 😭😭im sorry

Hey guys!!! Sorry I’m going through requests VERRRRY slowly atm but please feel free to leave requests in my inbox for me to get round to <3 love u all so much

Also, I included reader seeing Regulus as a little brother figure and looking after him, because I can’t not :-( sorry if it puts u off the fic!!

(CW: LOTS of angst, child abuse from walburga, sad Sirius, sad Regulus, Sirius being cold and cruel to cope with loss, basically the reader being the black brother’s best friend, ends with fluff<3)

“I used to love you.” ~S.O.B

{you were from a pure blood family, best friends with Sirius Black. You comforted him through his mother’s cruelty, and fell in love along the way. Until Sirius ran away, leaving you to protect his little brother from harm out of the love you still held. Now, when you see him in school, you give him a reciprocated glare. But why does he hate you?}

“Sirius, come here!” Came the harsh, threatening voice of Walburga Black, she sounded angry, really angry, and you watched Sirius tense, looking up from the book you were reading together. His eyes were wide, face whiter than usual, holding much more terror than a little boy should ever have to endure. You put a hand on his shoulder, warming him in this cold house. “Hey, it’s fine. Whatever happens, you can come back up to me after. I’ll take care of you.” You told him. You may have been only children at the time, but the way Sirius nodded and his silver eyes softened and glittered with tears, you knew you had a certain way with him.

Alone in Sirius’s room, you played with your hands, shoulders stiff as you listened to the mother scream ruthlessly at her son, trying not to picture the broken, guilty, vacant expression you knew would be adorning Sirius’s tear-stained face. You couldn’t hear Sirius’s responses to Walburga’s yelling, you knew he froze up when he was scared, so he’d be mumbling in response. “I DONT CARE IF YOUR FRIEND IS UPSTAIRS. YOU ARE A DISGRACE ALREADY!” She yelled. You had to cover your ears when gut-wrenching cries and wails started to echo up the stairs. Walburga was using the crucio curse on her son. Again.

~~~

Soon, the screams ceased and Sirius rushed up the stairs and into his room where you still sat. He slammed the door desperately, and crumbled to the floor beneath it, shaking like a leaf and loud sobs starting to make his small back heave. You leaped off of his bed and knelt beside him. Hesitantly, you reached out to touch his back, but he flinched away from you with a sharp, choked gasp. That was when the first crack painfully sliced its way through your heart. To see your best friend weak and bawling on the floor of his bedroom, scared of even you, was an agonising feeling. Eventually, Sirius realised you wouldn’t hurt him, and wiggled into your lap, crying quieter now. His head found its way into your neck as he cried, and you could feel his wet tears snaking down your skin.

“Sirius, I’m here.” You whispered into his disheveled black curls. At that, you felt his body weaken in your lap. Before you knew it, he was asleep ontop of you, your arms wrapped around him. He stirred, turning slightly, slipping down your body so his head lay comfortably on your chest, and your face scrunched in both pity and guilt. A puddle of thick crimson blood stuck his hair to his pale forehead. You hated yourself for not being able to stop his mother from hurting him. Watching his body rise and fall with each peaceful breath he took as he slept, you spat on your sleeve and wiped the blood away, earning a harsh twitch and broken whimper from the raven-haired boy. He deserved nothing but peace.

With Sirius draped over your body like a snow-white blanket, hair splayed over you like he’d claimed you as his own bed, the door creaked open. You tensed, holding Sirius tighter, ready to give anything to protect him if Walburga showed in the door, but instead, a small frame appeared. Regulus. “Oh, Regulus.. did the shouting scare you?” You ask softly. The boy nods. He’s the spitting image of his big brother. “Is Siri okay?” He murmurs, rubbing his eye. You nod. “C’mere.”

Regulus tucks himself into the crook of your arm, head laying on the flesh of your shoulder. With big eyes mirroring Sirius’s, he peers up at his brother. “Heard mama shouting at him. He breaked something, I think.” Regulus explains shyly. “Mh. Your mother isn’t kind to Sirius. She isn’t kind to you either.” You say, more to yourself than him. He still nods in agreement. You stroke Sirius’s hair as he shifts in his sleep. “I’ll get you both out one day. And… and me and Sirius can get married. And you can be the best man-“ you describe your fantasy to the small boy, who has a wonderful smile creasing his little face, eagerly listening to each and every detail of the life he hoped to one day live.

~~~

You were now both in hogwarts. Over the years, Sirius had become rebellious, learning to fight back to his mother, but this always resulted in the crucio curse, which resulted in him collapsing in your arms. You were, admittedly, all he had. You and his little brother, who he’d noticed following the path of his parents. He hated the fact that regulus was so obedient to their inane beliefs. He hated it. It was only you who could calm his rushing mind.

It took only one night for everything to change. You weren’t over at his house, so he was alone, and he had a particularly bad row with his mother. After using the crucio curse on the boy until his thin limbs were tangled and trembling on the ground, his jet black curls tangled and his bitten-raw lip quaking like a child’s. While he was in this state, his mother mocked him. All he wanted was to be in the safety of your arms right now. He knew that although you came from a pure-blood family, you were not evil. You were good. You were like him, but braver. Kinder.

That night, Sirius knew he couldn’t live in this house anymore. He packed a bag full of clothes, essentials, and was unable to resist taking Regulus’s old teddy bear, an old shirt of yours and a necklace that was matching with you. He tied up his dark hair and slipped on his leather jacket. He’d grown out his hair because his parents didn’t approve of it: he wore the jacket simply because his parents didn’t like the 70s-rocker look. He’d do anything to escape those sleek black suits, hair styled tidily, silver and jewels everywhere he looked. In this house, he was nothing but a decoration, so he vowed to make his appearance undesirable to his parents. But, you always thought it suited him. While he crept silently down the corridor, boots hardly making a sound on the fancy patterned carpet, he heard a creak. His heart stopped. Fuck, he thought. Its mum. I’m never getting out. Oh, god, I’m never getting out.

“Siri?”

A small voice asked. It was Regulus. Sirius spun around where he stood to see an unruly mop of black curls matching his, framing a pale, soft face that didn’t at all suit the bitter yet elegant brutality of his family. “Reg.” was all Sirius could squeak.

“…you’re leaving aren’t you?”

“…yeah.”

“Oh.”

Regulus looked at his feet. He looked back up at his older brother.

“I’ll be by myself, Sirius.”

Sirius’s jaw clenched. He fought back the tears.

“I’m sorry, Reggie. I love you.”

Regulus’s daintily perfect face crumpled. “You can’t go, Siri, I don’t-.” He swallowed. “I don’t want to be alone. Not with them.” Sirius opened his arms. His little brother crashed into them like he’d disappear if he wasn’t fast. “I’m sorry, reg. I love you, but I can’t stay.” He murmured. Regulus was now sobbing into his shoulder. Sirius felt like the worst person on earth. He needed to get to James’s house before his mother woke up. “Regulus, I have to go.” He told him, petting the back of his head. Regulus suddenly pushed his brother back. Sirius recognised this; the anger that reg was displaying. When he was the same age, when he felt vulnerable, he disguised it with anger. He still did. “F-fine. Go. I don’t need you.” Regulus spat, his glistening silver eyes betraying him. “You’re… you’re really… really mean, Sirius, you know that?” He tried to hiss, but it turned out as a cracked whimper. Sirius felt his heart shatter in his chest. Stinging tears dripped down his cheeks.

“I love you, Regulus.”

“…”

Regulus walked to his room.

~~~

Sixth year.

Sirius had decided that he couldn’t hurt you anymore. With him leaving home, being a blood traitor, he knew he’d only cause you trouble. He couldn’t bare the thought of it. Little did he know he’d be doing just that.

When break had ended, you’d gone to greet your best friend. “Sirius! I’m sorry I didn’t see you much over the holiday, god, how’s regulus? Are you-“ your shoulders clashed together as he continued walking. much to your confusion, he walked straight past you with the icy glare of his father. “…Sirius?” You tried again, catching up with him and grabbing onto his shoulder. The physical contact from the person he loved most hurt like the touch of searing iron, and he flinched away. “Fuck off! Can’t you just.. just fucking go away?” He growled. His silver eyes were a stormy grey, he hated himself more as he watched your face fall. “What..?” You breathed, looking so heartbroken. He hated himself for making you hurt as well as his little brother.

He hated himself, he hated himself, he hated himself.

Trying to soothe the ache in his chest, he rushed past you. He left you standing in the ruins of what he had torn down.

From then on, everything changed.

~~~

Sirius Black was not your best friend anymore. He was cold and unresponsive, shooting you murderous glares whenever you saw him. He’d make offensive comments at you when he came close enough to communicate with you, and it confused you immensely. What happened to the boy who came to you for comfort? Who cried in your arms and begged you to keep him safe and warm? What happened to your boy? Your best friend? Only god knows.

You didn’t even know Sirius had run away until your parents informed you that you couldn’t go around to the Black’s house anymore. This had sparked a heated argument. “What? He ran away? He didn’t tell me!” You’d exclaimed. “Yes. To the Potter’s house, we hear. Walburga has burned his picture off of the tapestry, and-“

“Wait, what? I can’t go round anymore? What about Regulus?”

“No. Walburga doesn’t allow guests to see her children anymore.”

“What? No, no, no, I need to see Reg. come on, Dad, he needs me!”

Long story short, your argument was to no avail. You couldn’t see Regulus. You couldn’t protect him from his parent’s wrath like you had his brother. Alike Sirius, you spent some of your nights lying awake thinking about Regulus, alone and cold in that hellish house, and most of your night thinking about Sirius, and what you did to make him despise you so.

Soon enough, You and Regulus had fixed your relationship, and many nights you’d find yourself singing the youngest Black brother to sleep. You could comfort him from within the walls of hogwarts where his mother couldn’t hurt him. Even when Sirius hated you, you cared for his brother like he was your own.

~~~

At first, you’d tried to coax Sirius into talking to you. You’d stood with tight lips while he insulted you, and listened to his hateful, meaningless rants. You noticed how his friends, James, Peter and Remus, stopped egging him on when it came to you, and started nudging him or trying to distract him, as if he’d say something he’d regret. But you’d come to think that Sirius black was remorseless.

You weren’t sure why he’d switched up on you, become so mean. You did, however, decide that you would be just as harsh right back to him. You knew you could never bring yourself to hate him. He owned your heart, whether you liked it or not. You learned to hate that you couldn’t help that.

It had soon been a year. One torturous year of finding your spells book torn to shreds, looking at dark eyes that you once knew so well only to see an unrecognisable boy. The smirk that once brought warmth to your chest now opened a bottomless pit in your stomach. With each day, you ached more and more. So did he. Sirius loathed himself indescribably. He knew that if he told you, even after the torture he’d subjected you to, you’d kiss his forehead like old times and tell him it was okay. Tell him that he was good, and he’d never be like his parents, and that you were there for him. You were an amazing person, and he was horrible. But he couldn’t drop his facade now.

You were just trying to study when a voice you’d come to find agitating and grating permeated the silence of the library. “Ooh, little blood supremacist… what you studying? Dare I say dark magic?” Rolling your eyes, you slammed the textbook shut. “shut up, Black. You came from quite the same roots.” “Maybe: but I was brave enough to get out. I was good enough to get out.” He retorted with a grimace. Looking up to meet his cold gaze, you noted that his creased white shirt was unbuttoned, his crimson and gold tie hanging loose over his shoulders, only curls pinned up carelessly with his wand. A dangerous hairstyle, for sure.

“Would you give it a break? I was the reason you didn’t go crazy in that house.”

“I did go crazy in that house.”

“Yeah, I can fucking tell.” You said with a scoff. He pulled away your notebook. “So, have you got the dark mark yet? Godric knows you’ll be ecstatic-“ “why are you such a dick, Sirius?!” You yell hoarsely, jumping to your feet. His eyebrows furrowed at your outburst. Slightly, his eyes softened at the sight of your glassy ones, brimming with unshed tears. He said nothing, lips parted. “You’re.. you’re a fucking prick. I never did anything to you.” Turning away to hide your face which had turned pink as it did when you were about to cry, You started upstairs to your dormitory.

~~~

knock, knock, knock.

Someone rapped on your dorm’s door.

Knock, knock, knock, knock. Knock, knock. Knock.

Someone was incredibly impatient. You used the palm of your hand to dry your eyes slightly and sniffled. “What? Who is it?” You croaked. A voice answered, “please can I come in?” You frowned. This time, it was a voice you knew. You recognised it, broken and weak, pained, yet honey-smooth all the same. That was your Sirius. Your heart hurt again knowing you’d never have him back, not fully. You fully believed this was another of his cruel pranks.

“Come in.” You mumbled.

As Sirius muttered your name, you felt you were transported back to your childhood. When you’d play and read together. Laugh and smile. “What do you want, Black.” When you said that, his lip twitched, face scrunching slightly. He looked as if the words physically pained him. With that expression painted on his face, he looked just like he did as a child. Except now, his hair was longer, his face more angular, more beautiful. “Don’t call me that. Please.” He begged, voice cracking with emotion. You looked up at him with a waning expression of anger. “Why not? You have been awful to me, I will call you what I choose.” You say. He whimpers pitifully.

He shuts the door behind him. You hear him mumble something. “What did you say, Black?”

“I’m in love with you.”

Your body is tense. Everything is silent. You have one question.

“Why were you so angry with me when you left?”

He hesitated, before answering as raw and truthful as he can. “Because I was stupid. I knew nothing but that I loved you. And I hated myself, and I couldn’t hurt you any further.”

“What? Hurt me? Hurt me how?”

“I burdened you all those years, with my weeping and pathetic pleas for comfort after my mother hurt me. When I could only feel safe shrouded in your warmth. I needed you. And I need you now. I’ve loved you since the moment I met you.”

Nothing felt real. You reached a hand out, and Sirius lowered himself so that his cheek rested in your palm. It was cold.

“You’re cold.” You stated blankly.

“I’m fine.” He protested.

You pulled him into your bed. Seconds later, you stretched out your arms. With a sob of relief, Sirius fell into your embrace. He cried silently into your neck for a while, reminiscent of the time you helped him as a kid, except this time you were both much bigger. You pet his hair affectionately, a tear sliding from your eye. “I missed you so much. I’m so, so in love with you. You don’t even need to love me back. I just… need this.” He said, voice muffled as he presses his face into your shoulder.

“…I never stopped loving you.” You admit, pulling him in closer.

~~~

You both spoke through the night, smiling and laughing and talking, telling secrets and jokes and all of the inbetween. He was so beautiful in the dim light of the lamp in your dorm. He was so beautiful anywhere. “You’re so beautiful.” He whispered, sounding lovesick and dazed. You laughed softly. “You don’t even know how beautiful you are. But that doesn’t matter to me.” You kiss his forehead, before pulling back and looking deep into his eyes. “You are good.” He practically melts into you.

Sirius falls asleep safe in the crook of your arm, and you fall asleep with one arm under him and the other around his waist, with the peace of mind that you can protect him always, now. Your boy. Your Siri.

You looked down at him, running your fingers through the roots of his hair. He moans lowly in satisfaction, practically purring as he presses himself against you. “Now we can get married: with Reggie as the best man, just like we dreamed. With a pretty house and a four-poster bed.” You said, a sweet, hopeful smile gracing your lips.

“Mmmh.” Sirius groaned sleepily. “As long as we can christen that bed.” He added, eyes still closed, with that stupid Sirius Black smirk on his face. You scoff, hugging him closer, before falling asleep yourself.

~~~

(Please don’t copy or share any of my writing anywhere else!!)

[millyhelp]

It all fell Down.

Jason todd x reader

warnings: mentions of death, blood, sad jason. read at your own risk. Angst shit.

Notes: I cried writing this. good luck. and yes, I wrote a super cute smut a few hours ago and now this puddle of sadness. Maybe I should continue?

please comment.

"Stay with me, stay with me..." Jason's fingers passed over your face affectionately. Thick tears of fear left his face.

You were bleeding. Your wound was deep, a bullet hit you.

It was supposed to be the perfect day. Your wedding. Your white dress was now red across the entire length of your chest. Jason's white suit blouse was in the same situation.

You lost blood quickly.

"It's okay." Your voice was weak and you coughed. The bullet hole had pierced one of your lungs, making blood fill it.

"There's nothing okay. Just stay with me, okay?" Jason sobbed and held you tightly against him. "Don't leave me..."

"I won't. I'm with you, right there." You placed your hand on Jason’s heart. His voice was low. Your lips were turning purple. "Jay..."

"Don't talk, save your breath. Look at me, please" Jason had never cried so much in his life. "Where's the fucking help?!"

Jason shouted, his voice broken by crying. The entire Batfamily was trying hard to control the chaos that was happening. No one had understood where the attacks came from.

"Jay..." You called him again. his eyes were heavy. You knew you couldn't take it anymore. "I love you..."

"Don't! Don't say that!" Jason shook his head. Childish sobs left his lips. "Don't do this with me!"

"Kiss me..." your blood-stained hand went towards Jason's face.

Jason would deny it. But he couldn't. Inside him he knew his end was coming. He was just being selfish.

His lips kissed you with tenderness and pain. Fear. afraid to lose you

Your lips were cold. A heavy sigh left your lips. Your heart stopped.

A scream of pain left Jason's lips.

"No! No! NO!" Heavy tears were left, loud sobs and screams. "DONT LEAVE ME! No..."

Jason shook your freezing body.

"Wake up! come on! wake up!" Jason caressed your face "My love, my princess. Come on, you have to wake up. Let's get married."

Jason went into a state of delirium. He wouldn't accept it. No. The only one who loves him the way he is, the only one who wasn't afraid of him. You were just sleeping.

"You chose such a beautiful dress for me, huh?" Jason's voice was broken. The tears didn't stop falling. "I can't wait to fill our house with kids. We want three, remember?"

Bruce, Dick, Barbara, Tim and Damian had managed to stop the attack. They did not identify who sent the shooters. But that didn't matter now.

A tear left Barbara's eyes when she saw Jason kneeling on the floor with you in his arms.

Dick, Tim and Damian knelt in respect.

Little Damian let a few small tears fall. Tears that no one thought he would ever drop.

Bruce walked over to his son. He placed a hand on Jason's shoulder.

"Jason..." Jason ignored him and continued talking to you.

"Come on love, wake up. I promised to take you to London! We have to catch the plane in a few hours!"

"Jason." Bruce spoke more firmly.

"You're going to love Paris! You told me it was your dream to see that big tower! My French is terrible, by the way!"

"Jason!" It was Barbara's turn to call him.

Jason looked at her. Barbara shook her head.

Jason didn't want to believe it yet. He ignored her.

"Jason! She died!" Damian's voice was loud and tearful. Broken.

"No... not for me..."

For Jason it was just a nightmare that for him, he would wake up like every other time. But this time, it wasn't a dream.

you were gone. you died.

and Jason can't save you.

[fleuraimer]

tw!!! messy, unhealthy family dynamic depicted.

started watching the bear and now i can’t stop thinking abt boxer!carmy, like southpaw but the bear.

next part.

boxer!carmy who started fighting because he watched rocky every day after school as a child (because kids can be quite cruel, can’t they? twinkling eyes and gummy smiles, expressive and vivid, raw, but that vast imagination is no stranger to destruction.)

small for his age, and maybe he liked the color pink more than the rest of the boys in his class, but mikey always said, ‘let it rip, kid. real men wear pink.’ as he wiped his little brother’s tears with the pad of his baby smooth thumb, so carmy never paid it much mind (not until his 10th birthday was coming up and his dad asked him what he wanted the theme of his party to be. he’d told him he didn’t care, “as long as it’s pink, and has cake.” he earned the first ass whoopin’ that left enough bruises for his teachers to notice. “fell off my trampoline,” he’d told them. the berzatto’s didn’t have a trampoline).

boxer!carmy who joins a local gym in 7th grade, because what the fuck else is he supposed to do with all this pent up, boiling angst, festering inside his body, running through the ichor of his being. mom was always screaming, dad was always drinking, sugar was always crying, mikey was never even there anymore…

the gloves cradled his hands the way a family should, hushed the tremble like a mother would to a child. calm.

the sand-bang took away his burdens the way a family could, carried the weight of his agony on boney, worn shoulders the way a father would for his son.

he beat on the bag until his sweat puddled at the floor beneath him, lights flickering as the owner (eddie, a bitter old man that took in “fuckin’ heathens” and gave them a place to call home) silently watched on from his place by the switches.

boxer!carmy who graduates high school, but doesn’t go to college, decides to focus on boxing instead. had already been going to the gym 4 times a week, but now, with school out of the way, he’s there almost every day. he prefers it this way, honestly, away from all the noise and calamity of his home life (can’t listen to another second of mom screaming about how she could have been someone if they hadn’t ruined her life. we could’ve been something, you hear me? and you all fucked it! can’t take sugar’s crying, sad little weeps that chip at his integrity. can’t watch mikey stumble in again, high off this that and the other and gone as fast as he came. can’t understand dad’s carelessness, more concerned with a bottle of bourbon and the ‘ball game than his own children). it’s nice there, anyway—with showers and a kitchen, he’s got all he needs.

he fights day and night, so often that sometimes it’s easier to just sleep there (and after the third time eddie stopped yelling at him about it so he thinks that maybe he might be warming up to him), curled up next to the heater with a blanket and a pillow he stole from mikey’s bedroom (he always had the fluffiest pillows. and besides, it’s not like he’d even fucking notice). he trains so hard and so long that by the end of what would’ve been his freshman year of college, he’s 62-0 in all his rookie matches from january to then.

boxer!carmy who, with his team of nacho (ignacio, a heavyset, easily sweaty sparring partner), benny (a skinny, white medic with frameless, 90s era specs, a hoop earring in his left ear, and a toothpick always in his mouth), and eddie, signs up to go pro, and by some fuckin’ miracle, he gets the headline event of the year.

pushes his ass to work harder than ever before, prove to himself (and mikey and sugar and mom and dad) that he is fucking doing something with his life, more than they ever had, and more than they ever will.

he knocks his opponent out in the 5th round, all teeth and bones intact. cries in eddie’s arms like a big baby, but for once, eddie doesn’t gripe. hell, he’s probably crying too, as he weakly tightens his hold around carmy, and hushes his incessant blubbering. i know, son, i know. y’did it. y’can rest now.

wipes his own eyes as he turns to face the crowd (let it rip, kid), fists pumped in the air in a show of triumph, victory, bittersweet in the absence of those who are meant to see his glory and realize, finally, he is someone, someone worthy of praise and some fucking apologies for all shit he’s been through.

boxer!carmy who fought his way in the ring, and fights every damn day for his spot on the floor. picks up a few more things than championship belts along the way. fractured fingers and broken noses, cracked ribs and misplaced shoulders, popped knees. none in vein, of course. oh, no—god, no—carmen ‘carmy’ berzatto, the beast—the bear—hadn’t lost a single match since entering the professional boxing league.

boxer!carmy who fights the heavyweight championship of the world, and fucking wins, just to find out later that night, after an evening of food, wine, sex, and celebration, that his older brother, michael ‘mikey’ berzatto, shot himself in the fucking head (let it rip, kid).

boxer!carmy who stops fighting after that. for a while (thinks about drinking and screaming the way mom and dad did to cope, but settles for short breathing and night terrors, instead). he doesn’t talk to the family, doesn’t pick up anyone’s phone calls (they hadn’t spoken in years (because he never picked up the fucking phone calls) and now suddenly because mikey’s dead everyone wants to fucking reconnect?), just comfortably sits in his big penthouse apartment, wallows and wonders on what could’ve been.

boxer!carmy who doesn’t touch a pair of boxing gloves for nearly 6 months, because what’s the point? but then, some little pussy decides to come and challenge carmy for his heavyweight title. he was in no mood, really. michael fucking died, he could kill somebody, for christ’s sake. but, even as a kid (the fuckin’ crybaby)—gettin’ picked on by his classmates for usin’ the pink chalk to draw on the pavement—carmy never really did know when to shut his fucking mouth.

he accepts the dickhead’s challenge, timothy grayson, after the second time he says some over the top, arrogant, macho white-trash bullshit on live fucking television (spews off some real intellect about never giving up fighting for anything or anyone, when he doesn’t even fucking know what happened. carmy’s fuckin’ angry, so angry he doesn’t notice the pretty broad beside him, not really, to busy picturing tommy’s or timmy’s or whatever the fuck his name is face beneath his fists).

boxer!carmy who sets up a pay-per-view fight against timmy boy to defend his heavyweight championship.

boxer!carmy who picks up his gloves again and feels the cradle and coo of a mother. fits the laces just right, finds his bag, and when he throws a right hook, feels his burdens being lifted from his back, protected and brave under the shield of a father.

this is who he is.

carmen ‘carmy’ berzatto.

the beast.

the bear.

boxer!carmy who shows up to the pre fight weigh-in at his absolute best physical form, ready to fucking devour timothy on a silver platter.

boxer!carmy who goes up to on the stage after timmy—nacho, benny, and eddie by his side (plus the others accumulated along the years) thoughts calm over the roar of blasphemy being shouted at him. quitter! pussy! fuckin’ pansy bitch! (we could’ve been something, you hear me?)

he keeps his head down as he walks up the steps on the side of the stage, eddie’s hand settled on his right shoulder; grounding. and yet, as his eyes begin to lift from the ground beneath his feet, eddie’s grip on him doesn’t stop carmy from feeling like he’s floating 25 feet above the floor.

perfect, pointed, pink stilettos catch carmy’s eye, open toed with and big, chiffon-esque bow placed across the strap. his eyes trail higher.

deep, caramel skin, glinted in gold accents, fitting over knuckles and bangling from wrists. a mini skirt (shorter than usual, too short) to match the heels, and a skin tight, square neck top to accentuate a sharp, smooth collarbone. a couple stacked necklaces, some (unnecessary) cherry wine hued specs, and a sweet ribbon hanging from long, wistful curls, in that same damned pink.

his blue irises don’t stop fucking flitting around this unknown, ethereal figure until they land on a pair of rich, brown sugar eyes.

oh, jesus fuckin’ christ.

boxer!carmy who can’t keep his eyes off the pretty broad in pink for the rest of the show. he stands taller for her. flexes harder for her, puffs his chest with pride when his weight qualifies by a mile and a minute as the announcers read it from the scale. and the whole time, she’s lookin’ at him. fuckin timothy.

boxer!carmy who gets close to timmy when it’s time to showdown, closer than he has with anyone else. timmy’s yappin’, but it’s in one ear and out the other, nothin’ carmy ain’t heard before (could probably be considered kind in comparison).

he waits ‘til his trash talk subsides. until the silence he let bloom tangled with any single sliver of panic timmy might feel, and watches as it twists onto his ugly mug, brows furrowing. confused.

the corner of his lip lifts, and he holds timmy’s eye. “nice broad. pretty in pink, s’that your little girlfriend?” timmy’s stare hardens, but that deters carmy none. “quite the looker, shame she’s stuck next to your ugly fuckin’ mug—“

“keep her fuckin’ name out of you—“

“or what grayson? huh? can’t do shit now, can’t do shit after i whoop yo’ ass in the fight, and can’t do shit after y’pretty girlfriend dumps y’r s’rry ass because’a it.” nose to nose, breathing jagged, frustrated, a silence settles over them that speaks louder than any rebuttal timmy might’ve had.

carmy manages to press him further.

“i’m going to crush you, timmy. like a fuckin’ bug under my shoe. and after, i’m gonna take y’cute broad right over there back to my hotel suite, and fuck her like she wishes you could.”

boxer!carmy who walks off that stage with a bloody nose and a sore shoulder. but timmy left with a broken nose, an off set jaw, and crunched nuts.

he smiles as he stumbles down the stage steps, leaning into nacho and benny, a sense of dejà vu plaguing him as he recalls a shitfaced mikey falling through the doors of his childhood home (let it rip). but he’s swiftly pulled back into the real world when his eyes lock on a certain pair of wide, brown sugar, cherry red wine framed ones.

with a leaking nose and blood pooling at the seam of his lips, carmy grins, and shoots the pretty broad a wink.

———

a/n: can’t get him out of my head 🌚🧍🏽‍♀️

loosely edited/proofread!!

[iamjellyfish]

✦ Fragments of Her Existence ✦

✦ A/n: uh, angst, angst that is based on Madoka Magica. Yeh. Anyways, tumble, pls don't do me dirty and actually show everyone my posts!

✦Summary: In a losing battle with the Kaiju, to save Hoshina, you sacrifice yourself and vanish from the world. Nobody, nothing other than Hoshina, remembers you, and clings to the last piece of memories about you. 

✦Warning: angst, probably OOC, the reason you vanish is still a mystery, hurt, no comfort, hahaha. Anyway, you did off yourself to protect Soshiro:3

✦Wordcount: 3116

Bang... Bang... Bang... 

Soshiro found himself lying in a puddle of blood, from a fatal injury he got a few minutes ago while fighting the daikaiju. A lot of his bone was broken, his vision was blurry, and all he could hear now was gunshots from you, he couldn’t even feel pain right now, the agony from the situation overridden it. 

Supposedly, there was no data, no detection of a daikaiju; they were completely taken by surprise when the daikaiju suddenly appeared out of nowhere and started attacking. Worse of all, the signals were affected by the monster, and he can only whisper helplessly into the comm while you are still fighting. 

Bang. Bang. Bang. 

You quickly patch him up just enough for blood to not spill out more and head straight back into battle. The smell of iron and the heavy atmosphere on the battlefield did affect your will to fight. It's like a losing battle, and you are just hopelessly trying to drag things out with little hope that someone will come. 

It was dark, it was cold, it was miserable. Purely miserable.

It's like all your attacks bear no damage to the daikaiju, and you were a platoon leader. It's like you, an ant, struggling against a stronger, more powerful being that you barely hold yourself together to fight. 

Soshiro knows this, knows that you might not be able to hold much longer; he has been praying, begging for someone... Just someone on the other side of the comm to be able to call for help. But he only heard the glitches of the comm, yet he was still trying even if his brain was telling him that there was no hope. 

Bam. 

You got kicked into the nearby wall again; this time, you could hear your bone cracking. Your suit soon overheats, your face is bloodied, and all you can taste is the bitterness and iron of blood. Yet you still keep standing up, simply because Soshiro can't no longer fight and you were their last hope. 

"Soshiro... I'm sorry I might not make it, I'm sorry I might have to break our promises. I wanted to live in a normal world with you. To be able to wear a wedding dress and stand you, exchanging vows...! "

You said as you walked toward the daikaiju, a grenade in your hand, the other hand clicking the gun only to see there is no ammo left. Your voice weakly rings, your throat hurts, and your eyes fill with tears. You were crying; you cried because you knew you might never get to marry Soshiro, your fiancé. 

As you said, Soshiro tried his best to look at you through blood and tears. He held his hand out, signaling for you to don't do it. Soshiro used all his might to yell out for you, but all that came out from his bloodied throat were weak sounds calling for you. Yet it's not enough for you to give up. 

"But I have to continue to fight! Because you're behind me, I wanted you to live because you love blades right? You still have dreams to chase, and I only have you as my will to live. So then, Soshiro, please live happily. For I can't imagine myself living in a world where you can't continue chasing your dreams."

You smile as you hold the daikaiju down with all your strength left and pull the safety pin. As light overflows and starts to devour you with its destruction, you smile at him, at Soshiro. Then everything went blur; he didn't know how long he had been in a coma but he knew it was long enough for everyone to worry. 

"Huh... What happened? How long did I-"

Soshiro said as he looked around, the white wall, the white sheet, the bandages,... Yep, he is in the hospital. Soshiro starts regaining his vision, his eyes no longer get blocked by blood, and his throat no longer tastes bitter. When he wakes up, the rookie from the third division starts swarming him with tears in their eyes and worries in their voices. 

"Vice-captain...! We thought you were going to die! The daikaiju sudden attack- and the comm was cut off...! -"

"Where is y/n? Is she okay?"

He suddenly spoke as he looked at his broken arm and bruises on his fingers. Something inside his heart felt a strange unease. He looked around to find the sight of you, to find your lovely eyes and sweet voice, but you were nowhere to be found; all there was in this hospital room was coldness. The rookie looks at him, confused; they whisper to each other about this 'y/n' he is talking about, but none of them recognizes the name. In fact, per investigation, Soshiro is the only one there at the scene. Then, in the crowd, Kafka finally spoke up with worry in his voice. 

"Who is y/n? Is there someone else with you back then? When they found you, you were alone with no sign of daikaiju or even another human being." 

Soshiro's eyes widened as he heard Kafka's voice. How could they forget you? You were their idol! You were the one who begged for their punishment to be lessened at times; you were their beloved platoon leader! You were a sweet angel who would be caring and helpful when they needed you. How could they forget you? To the point, where no one can recognize the name? This is strange. 

Soshiro wants to yell at them, give them push-ups and laps to run, so that you may jump out with flowers and tell them to chill out, kiss him, and ask for forgiveness from the rookies. But when Soshiro looks at them with angry eyes and harshness in his voice, he further confuses everyone.

"Really? Is this some kind of prank? Y/n is your beloved platoon leader! First of all, pranking your superior is an act deserving of harsh punishment. Second of all, Y/n's heart would break if she knew this is how you are treating her!"

Soshiro said as he reached out for his phone, looking for your picture so that he could show the rookies your beautiful face, cute smile, and lovely eyes. Yet, when he put in his password, your image was nowhere to be found, and Soshiro swore he was the type to take pictures of you every moment he could. But there was nothing. 

He starts to think that someone has sneaked in to erase those images from him but it isn’t possible considering the fact that he has a rather difficult passcode to remember and the only other person that knows his passcode is you, the love of his life. Are you joining them in this prank too? If so you better recover his beloved pictures of you, because he cherishes every single image he has of you. So when he was about to lash out again because everyone was silent, just pure silent with awkwardness on their face, dumbfounded. Mina finally goes into the room with a bag of oranges and a phone on the other hand.

“Chill out Hoshina. Shinomiya texted me what happened, who is this y/n that making you yell at the rookies for?”

Soshiro finally sigh and mumble a little “sorry” to them. Then he looks into their eyes and starts to revise what happened that night, the despair night, the night he has to look at you sacrificing yourself for his sake. He hopes that his story will somehow shake out their memories and finally tell him your whereabouts. So with sadness coated in every word of his, he finally tells them the story.

“Y/n is my fiancé, the love of my life. That night, we were together, since the mission ended early, we thought we should sneak somewhere nearby and kiss. But then, out of nowhere, our comm glitches and we can’t contact the operation team. Turn out, a powerful daikaiju appeared and we were fighting a losing battle. She was fighting hopelessly while I was injured and trying to fix the comm, then she decided to use a grenade and sacrifice her life so that I could live.”

The sob story makes everyone once again fall silent, yet Kafka with no filter as he is deciding to whisper to Shinomiya. “Huh, didn’t know the vice-captain has a fiancé.” “Shut up, this is not the right time to question that!” Shinomiya punches his arm quietly. But Soshiro still hears that, which is more strange, since he was openly talking about his relationship to everyone yet somehow Kafka didn’t know. But then he looks back at Mina and her expression tells him that nobody knows, which makes everything even more strange. She looks at him with grief and hands him an orange while talking.

“Sorry to hear that about your fiancé. But… we couldn’t find her body, she might have burned to ashes. The stranger thing is, I never recall us having a platoon leader named ‘y/n’, and this is not a joint operation so either she has to sneak in or she never existed from the start.”

Her words sting, it’s like a knife that stabbed through his heart and doubts were the blood that bleed out. No way this is real, you were never real? Don’t play a cruel joke on him! He was there with you the whole night, he watched you falling, hurting, and still picking yourself up to fight. This is a very cruel, sick nightmare that makes him think this is an illusion from the daikaiju to make him despair and kill him. If so, it successfully makes him fall into a spiral of despair, yearning for your told, for a validation that you do exist. His hand holds onto the orange tight and crushes it, then he looks back to everyone with a soft smile.

“I’m sorry, I need time alone. Can everyone leave?”

Even if some of the rookies didn’t want to leave, Mina’s cold stare was enough for them to change their minds. Before Mina leaves, she silently looks at Soshiro as he looks through his phone, wanting to find even the smallest trace of you. She was worried but she couldn’t press him for more information when he had just woken up from a coma.

Soshiro on the other hand, texted you and begged you to reply. His fear is creeping on him, a cold feeling tracing down his spine as he texts your account not realizing the line “this user does not exist”. Soshiro could feel his heart wrenching, his eyes were hazy looking at the ‘sent’ line, waiting for it to change into ‘seen’. He’d rather die by your side than live without you, is this some cruel punishment that you gave him? Now he starts to think that to be dead holding your hand is a more heavenly option than to live knowing he the last person remembers you exist. Why did you have to sacrifice yourself? Wouldn’t dying together be better? He would rather have that ending to his life. He wouldn’t mind holding you close as the inevitable death consumes you both, even if you both turn into kaiju, he would be fine to be killed with you.

Sometimes when Soshiro thinks about it, he wants to bury you in the same coffin as you, he wants to be able to hold you, to cuddle you, to give you kisses even in his death, he will hold you so tight that no one could separate you from him. Yet now, even your existence is considered fiction, a mere illusion that was created when he is near death. He couldn’t hold you, couldn’t pamper you with love, couldn’t even prove that you exist. Soshiro wonder if you traded your existence for him to be alive, for him to chase his dreams because if that was so, he wanted a refund.

But then again, he was afraid at the thought the whole thing, the whole relationship, you were merely imagination. So Soshiro takes out a pen and a notebook, writing every loving memory of you and him, he writes everything about you, he writes as if there is no tomorrow. Because he is afraid of slipping you away.

“Summer afternoon, she let me lay on her lap as I told her about my day. Her eyes were so lovely as she listened to me, the golden light of the sun reflecting on her skin made her so dreamy. I remember she likes chilling in weather like this, it makes her sleepy.”

He recalls as he writes, he thinks about drawing you, then his hand moving unconsciously. That might do it, a drawing that fairly resembles you, he could show Ashiro this and hope that she could help him find you. He writes out your hobbies, your favorite tea that he doesn’t understand about what’s so special about a tea that is purple with lemon, now think of it, if you were to return, he would buy you that tea every day. He also writes out which food you like and how you dislike certain types of food, he makes sure everything about you is written in great detail. Before Soshiro realizes it, in one night, he already fills all the paper in that 200-page notebook with details, drawings, and other stuff of you. Even every single interaction with you is written.

Then, he is afraid that he will forget your voice since voice is the first thing you will forget about someone. Soshiro spent the rest of his night recalling your voice, playing it like it’s a Spotify playlist to him, repeating again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and…

Drifting off to sleep with your voice still ringing in his mind, he feels like sleeping that night was so peaceful, a harmony created from your voice and sweet memories of you. Soshiro recalls that night when you vanished again, if what you want is a peaceful world where you can be a normal girl who wears a wedding dress and stands at the altar, then he will fight for a world with that ideal. He finds himself deciding that he will cherish your existence, your love with him will be buried in his heart even if it is painful to hold, Soshiro would cling to it with all his might because that’s the last thing you gave to him. The memories of your existence.

After recovering and getting discharged from the hospital, no matter how much the rookie press or Ashiro asked about you, he would brush it off to be ‘his late lover whom he will meet again in the afterlife’. To be truth, he was silently hoping that death would come his way quicker, he couldn’t bear living without you Soshiro might never date again with the reason ‘Y/n will be mad at me for looking at another girl’. Now, his coping mechanism is his blades which he will swing with all his might, you disappear for him to continue using blades so he will use them more, and train with them more.

And also because when he train using his blade, he could feel your ghost cheering him on “Keep on the good work Soshiro” and he will nod smiling. And if he overworks himself, he could see the shadow of you pouting and rambling about how it’s unhealthy to be exhausting himself too much just for training. Soshiro spent his days fighting with you on his mind, the love you give him in his heart and his blade-wielding your wishes. The image of a girl whom he loves, you whom he misses is what keeps him fighting, even if the world forgets you, Soshiro would still keep you alive in his mind, his world, his reality.

But there are also times when his heart aches at the thought of not being with you, it yearns for your touches, your warmth again but you are nowhere to be found, where his tears turn into a river of hopelessness waiting for somehow, the world would prove to him you exist, to show him the path to once again get to sit next to you, to hold you and kiss you on the lips. Sometimes Soshiro comes home, calling out to you, yet there is no response, he touches the blanket and reminds himself of the sight of you sleeping peacefully.

They could call this delusional but to Soshiro, this is a bitter dream that was paid with your existence. And one day, Soshiro himself would drift into the land of death, where you would once again put his head on your lap, whispering sweet words “You did good, Soshiro”, welcoming him to stay by your side for eternity. But for now, Soshiro will fight for the ideal world of yours, he will swing his blades because you trade your everything for his happiness.

You were his savior, the love of his life, the princess who held his heart hostage, and his soon-to-be wife.

“You know Hoshina, even if everything that you write is true, and that drawing was ‘y/n’. There is still no way of proving her existence, even if you write those great details… those events never happened or were altered. But I admit, she is beautiful.”

Mina said as she stood with Soshiro on the rooftop after another mission watching while the Monster Sweeper company cleaned up the dead body of Kaiju. Soshiro simply hums in agreement, after all, you are really beautiful. Soshiro lies through his teeth while smiling then waving off as he walks home.

“It’s fine, even if I’m the only one that remembers her, that means she entrusts me. One day I will return by her side and we will watch the sunset together.”

Even if it’s not fine by Soshiro, even your silent sacrifice was something Soshiro wanted to share, he will wait patiently for the day you come and hold him again as he and you drift off to the other side where there are only the two of you. He loves you and by asking you to be his fiancé, he has decided that his fate, his heart, and his soul will forever belong to you even if you no longer exist in this world.

Thank you for reading:D

[yayakoishii]

Can I request sanji and reader being childhood friends and meeting again years later (and sparks fly obviously)… Maybe reader was told Sanji was dead after he ran away from Germa so seeing him is absolutely crazy for them. Ideally reader ends up joining the straw hats? No worries if you don’t pick this one but I thought it’d be cute!!

Gone | Sanji x Reader

Fandom: One Piece

Pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x GN! Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Tags: Light angst, fluff? Spoilers for Wholecake Island

A/n: First off, thank you for the request!! I tried my best to write it the way you wanted but I ended up having to slightly tweak the reader's role since it would have been impossible for Sanji to have a friend in his Germa days. I hope you don't mind! If this wasn't quite what you wanted, feel free to send in another request. I hope you enjoy ♡

also available on ao3!

Everybody in Germa 66 sang praises of the three princes. If asked to pick a favourite, they would all probably say either of Ichiji, Niji or Yonji's names. Not you though.

At 6 years old, you had firmly decided to yourself that your favourite prince was Sanji. Yeah, he wasn't as strong as the other three, but he was kind and sweet and most importantly, he was your friend. Well, your secret friend. After all, he was royalty and royalty wasn't supposed to lower themselves to your level.

Being the child of a nurse in Germa, you had been programmed to be born as fearless and unquestioningly loyal to the Vinsmoke family. Except, for some reason, it hadn't worked on you and you had turned out to be normal. At that young age, you didn't really know it, of course. But you could sense that you were different from the rest.

When you saw soldiers easily stepping in to let themselves be killed just on one word from a Vinsmoke, it made you flinch and it made you scared. You hid your fear from everyone except for Her Majesty, Vinsmoke Sora. Your job at that young age was just to look after, entertain and distract her. (The adults didn't tell you that you were supposed to be distracting her from her actual children.)

That's where you had met Sanji. He was the only prince who visited her. You didn't really understand much at that age but you couldn't get how any child could stay away from their own mom for so long. It made you dislike the other three.

"(Y/n), can you treat His Highness' wound like I had taught you?" Your mother asked you as she helped Queen Sora to lie down. Beside her bed, Sanji was standing with a scratched knee. He had slipped on a puddle on the way to Sora. You nodded excitedly and bowed to Sanji clumsily, like your father had shown you.

"Come with me, Your Highness!"

Sanji and you had sat on one of the couches in the room and you slowly worked on disinfecting the wound and putting on the medicine. The said boy was sniffling, which made you look up curiously. Everyone said the princes were supposed to be strong and that they never showed any fear or even cried.

"Am I hurting you?" You asked worriedly, trying to be even gentler. You were just waving the cotton in the air now, instead of actually touching him with it. "Why are you crying?"

"I'm not crying!" Sanji immediately stopped sniffling, looking slightly alarmed. You could tell that he was scared– just like you! It excited you and you nodded enthusiastically.

"No, you would never cry, Your Highness, of course not!" You tried to wink at him but ended up blinking. Sanji stared at you, a little confused and fascinated, then nodded quietly. "What did you make for Her Majesty today?"

He startled at your question then said shyly, "I tried curry rice today, with an omelette."

"Ooh, did you get it to spill over the rice?!" You asked excitedly as you finished placing your personal favourite band-aid on his knee.

"It failed," he pouted. Before you could try to cheer him up, Sanji noticed the band-aid. "What is this?"

"It's my favourite Kakuma band-aids," you whispered, leaning in so that only he heard it. Sanji blinked at you unsurely before looking back down at the band-aids with a cute bear pattern on it.

"Who's Kakuma?" He asked, feeling foolish. You launched into a big explanation of your favourite show, Kakuma the Bear of Justice. The adults in the room let you two stay like that and that afternoon, you and Sanji became friends. When it was time for him to leave, he had asked you to not call him ‘Your Highness’ because now you were his (secret) friend.

"But I can't do that," you pouted, clasping your hands behind your back. "I am not allowed to call you by your name. But, I am allowed to call you my prince. Would that be okay?"

6-year old Sanji had flushed at the sweet way you called him your prince. He liked the sound of it. He didn't really understand why, but you were now his first friend and you smiled at him and told him about your favourite show and you even told him secret cooking tips that you had sneaked out of your mother to help him cook a perfect omelette with soft gooey insides.

From that day on, whenever Sanji visited his mom, he would also give you some of his food to try. It sometimes tasted horrible and was even inedible at others, but you would always take at least one bite and praise his efforts. You found him very cool for even trying to make all those difficult recipes– your mom wouldn't even let you enter the kitchen.

The two of you were each other's closest and only friend, so the day King Judge announced the death of Sanji at sea, your 7 year old heart broke for the first time in your whole life. Not long after, Queen Sora passed away too.

When you were 8, your father was called as a Wall by Judge and died. Within the span of a year, you had lost all the closest people to you and then came the attack on Cozia. Your mother and a few other nurses got attacked in the scuffle and she had pushed you, telling you to run far away from the battleships of Germa.

That was the last you ever heard of the only remaining loved one you had.

•

It had been 11 years since then. You were no longer the kid you once were. You had ended up lost in the East Blue, worked your way into a pirate ship as a apprentice. The crew managed to make it into the Grand Line when you were 13, but ended up stranding you on an island after an attack killed off most of them, including the captain.

You had hopped around islands over the years, exploring and picking up jobs or working in crews or delivery ships to travel as many islands as you could. Now, you were currently living on a small island that was a few islands away from Marie Geosie. You had contemplated it but, it would be foolish to try to enter the New World without a really strong pirate crew who could possibly survive it. Having made peace with that, you had settled into a small rural town where you worked in a bar at night and taught children how to fight in the day.

Being a small island where the log pose reset within 3 hours, not many pirates or marines ever came by or stayed long enough if they did come. It was the perfect place for a peaceful life– a rare occurence on the Grand Line, in your opinion. So you had taken the chance and established yourself within the community smoothly.

There were rumours going around, though. Of a new generation of pirates that were slowly making their way through the first half of the Grand Line. You had heard some names in passing but didn't really keep up with the news much until that one fateful day. The Straw Hat pirates had docked on the island at sunset and the news spread like wildfire. It was the most interesting thing to happen in a long while and there was a strange tension in the air.

There was also another small crew that had arrived just before them so there was a possibility that the two might clash. You hoped that there would be no fighting for the sake of your simple town. You were at your workplace, serving drinks and food to the customers, most of whom were people from your town or the surrounding ones. There were some unfamiliar faces as well, which you guessed were the new pirates.

You worked while keeping an eye on the ones who gave you a bad feeling. Just towards the end of your shift, you suddenly saw one of the pirates try to grope your co-worker. Within a flash, you were next to her side, standing in between the lecherous pirate and her cowering figure.

In a small town like yours, people were more fiercely protective. While in any other place the girl would have been told to tolerate it, that was not the case in your town. And you were free to defend them and drive the customer out in such a case.

"I'm going to have to ask you to leave," your voice was cold as you shot him a murderous look. The pirate could sense that you weren't joking with your skills and got out of his seat. You turned around to hold the girl by her shoulders and looked over her to ensure he hadn't hurt her without you knowing. "Are you okay? Did he hurt you?"

"No, I'm alri–"

You were distracted by her answer and felt the pirate swinging at you a little late. Despite ducking, his sword still nicked the side of your neck. You hissed and whirled around, ready to beat the shit out of him when instead, a leg on fire smashed the pirate down so hard that the wooden flooring broke under the pressure. You winced a little at how the splinters pierced him but you were distracted by the owner of the leg which was no longer on fire.

"Getting handsy with a lady and then attacking from behind?" You jolted in shock at the sight of the man. That blonde hair… those curly eyebrows… No way. He was sneering at the man with disgust, a put-out cigarette in his left hand. The man on the floor groaned lightly; he was probably experiencing a concussion. The blonde man looked up at you with concern. "Your neck is bleeding."

"Oh," you automatically covered the wound, feeling the wet, sticky liquid dirty your fingers. You had nearly forgotten about it in the shock of seeing your childhood friend after so many years. He was alive? After all this time?

"Hey, you should go treat it," the co-worker you had saved spoke hurriedly. "I'll take care of things here."

"You sure?" You asked, eyebrows furrowed. Your brain was still frozen from the shock but your body was already moving on auto-pilot.

"Yeah, go quickly before you lose any more blood," she insisted, guiding you to the backdoor. You heard footsteps follow you.

"Wait," the blonde man– Sanji? –said from behind. "I, would you like some help with that?"

You could do it by yourself. You always dress your wounds by yourself. But instead of declining it like usual, you flashed him a smile and said, "I would like that."

Your co-worker seemed surprised by your words too and decided to leave you alone for now. You took the Sanji-look-alike with you to the backroom where your first aid kit was in the bag. For once, you were grateful that you always lugged the thing around; you actually had it on you for the kids you taught. The two of you settled down on the bench and the blonde carefully picked up the necessary medicines.

You just stared at his face, drinking in his features. It felt a lot like a dream. Sanji was supposed to have died. And yet this man in front of you bore such a striking resemblance to him. You had never seen curly eyebrows like this outside of the Vinsmoke family. But there was no way that Germa would let Sanji go, surely?

"Thank you for taking care of that scum," you said, eyes flitting all over the blonde's face. The more you looked, the more you saw your friend in him. Even in the dim light of the backroom, you could still recognise the bright blue eyes. "I could have taken him on if I wasn't distracted."

"I can sense that," Sanji smiled at your wound as he cleaned it up. He wouldn't meet your eyes for some reason but you watched him with half-lidded eyes. His touch was gentle and his fingers felt weirdly cool on your skin. It sent shivers down your back. You were reminded of that day when you had dressed Sanji's tiny injury. Funny how your roles were swapped now. "This might sound a little weird but, you really remind me of someone important to me."

Your breath hitched and you automatically teased, "Bet you say that to all the girls."

He laughed and finally looked you in the eye, "I could never. That person is too far away. I will never meet them again in this life."

He stared down forlornly at your first-aid kit. You followed his look to the plain band-aids in the corner of your box. A smile played on your lips.

"I couldn't find any Kakuma ones here," you said quietly. Sanji froze, wide eyes running all over your face. "Turns out Kakuma isn't very popular outside of North Blue."

"You…" Sanji suddenly grabbed you by your shoulders and you flushed at the close proximity. This Sanji was different from the cute boy you once knew. He was now handsome, but still just as cool. "(Y/n)..?"

"I feel like I'm dreaming, my prince," you admitted, smiling weakly. You placed your hand lightly on his right cheek, brushing the cheek faintly as if you were worried he would disappear with a touch. "They said you died in a shipwreck. Am I just missing you so much that I'm starting to see you on the Grand Line?"

"It feels like a dream to me too," he sounded a little broken. Your fingers pressed into the smooth skin and, it felt too real to be a dream. He was really sitting across from you. "How did you end up here?"

You sat there quietly for a few seconds, remembering the worst days of your life when you lost all your loved ones one after the other. You had kept that bottled up all these years.

"Let me change and I'll tell you everything when we're out of here."

Sanji nodded and slinked out the backdoor while you hurriedly changed, packed up and joined him. You decided to take him down the shore as you spoke about all that had happened ever since his death was announced. He told you about what happened to him the whole time, about the imprisonment, the actual shipwreck, the Baratie and the Straw Hat pirates. Both of you talked and listened for so long, the moon was up high when you finally stopped walking.

The sea was gently crashing onto the shore. Your bare feet dug into the dry sand from a distance as you stared at the horizon.

"So," you hesitated. "What now?"

"Now…" Sanji trailed off as he turned his head to face you. "Do you want to come join us?"

You hadn't expected that. Snapping your neck towards him, you stared with wide disbelieving eyes.

"Shouldn't you ask your captain first?" You asked nervously. The idea of being by Sanji's side for the rest of your life made your heart beat faster. He was different from the boy you once knew but the past few hours had only made you realise that this new Sanji was still the kind and sweet boy beneath all his differences.

"I'll convince Luffy," he said. You realised he was just as nervous as you felt. "I'm sure he won't mind."

"Oh," you looked away and back at the horizon. The part of you that still craved adventure was all in support of the idea. The other practical side of you wondered if you could just up and leave your life here. (Everyone would understand, wouldn't they?) "I spent so much of my life thinking you were gone, Sanji. Thinking that I had lost you forever. Thinking that I would never meet you again."

Sanji didn't reply, just slipped his left hand into yours. He squeezed it gently, as a reminder that he was here now. That he wanted to have you by his side from now on.

"I don't want to let you go ever again."

Your admission earned you a soft smile from the cook. He fully turned his body to face yours and you did the same. Leaning down, he pressed a soft kiss on your forehead that sent your heart jackrabbiting.

"I don't plan to either," he whispered.

With those simple words, all your inhibitions were gone.

"Then take me with you, my prince."

You pulled him into a hug for the first time in your life. You were no longer a prince and a servant. No longer quite the friends you once were. But it seemed like you two were on the path to becoming something else entirely.

A something else that you both looked forward to.

°•❀•°

A/n: I feel like Sanji would treat you very differently if you were his childhood friend. He would be so much more serious than his usual perverted facade because you already know him at his lowest point. Also, Kakuma is a made up cartoon character. I took the name from the Japanese verb Kakumau, which means to shelter/hide/protect—something I really wanted to do for kid Sanji :(

All likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! ♡

★ Taglist:

@phantasmagoricalzenith | @secretlife028 | @100520s | @toertchen | @suga-tofu | @theluckyplaces | @luvfzw | @katiemrty | @writingmysanity | @akaashi-todorki | @yuninha2004

if anyone wants to added or removed, let me know!

[worldofkuro]

Could you make a angst!reader x alastor story?

Prince Charming

Pairing: Alastor x Female!Reader

Notes: Well, I hope you'll enjoy it because I sure did while writting it! Tw: Death. Tw: Mind Break. Tw: Blood

Thud

You stared at the blurry sky. Alastor always loved rainy nights like this, he always felt like he turned off the sound around and he could think clearer and be more in control. You had teased him, saying that you could easily destroy his concentration if you wished which made him laugh. You were his greatest weakness. You were his human heart. That's what he said during your wedding vows. He was human because you were next to him, because you were loving him. How could you not? He was your Prince Charming.

Thud

You looked weakly at the man above you who stabbed you once again. You couldn't scream or cry. You couldn’t feel any pain, you just felt.. Cold. You were sure that Alastor would feel so warm against your cold skin. He would hold you close to his chest and talk about his next broadcast’s topic. Sometimes you would ask him to bring up a specific topic you wished he would have deepened. 

Thud

You felt a tear streaming down your face. Were you going to die? Alone ? You turned your head to the side as the man took your purse and looked inside it. You were laying in a puddle of your own blood on.. grass? You tried to look around, there were so many trees… Oh yes, you took a walk in the forest near Alastor’s house, trying to give yourself some courage, before your husband’s return. You wanted to go where he had proposed to you but you didn’t expect to be followed and worse yet, you didn’t expect to be stabbed again, and again and again and again..

Will Alastor be okay? How was he going to react to your death? You husband wasn’t a violent man, always trying to talk things through, that's one of the reasons you have loved him. You didn’t want to close your eyes, afraid of not being able to open them ever again. You didn’t want your last living image being this man killing you. You wanted… Alastor.

“ Darling !”

You blinked, smiling softly. Now you could hear his voice. Maybe God sended an angel with his voice so you could go in peace. You could rest now…But not with the dreadful scream that echoed in the night.

You opened your eyes, that you didn’t even remember closing, and saw a man stabbing your assaulter. You wanted to lose your sense of hearing as the screams of the man were now cries of begging. You almost scoffed, he was pathetic. 

“ Darling, my love, mon coeur, look at me.” The man knelt next to you and then you recognized your husband, dirty in blood. You always told him that red suited him but seeing him covered in blood… Was it your blood? His?

“ Don’t do that to me, Love. Keep your eyes open, look at me.” he tried to stop your bleeding with his hands as he kissed the crown of your head. You giggled, you were right, his skin was so warm against yours. Now you could let go. Now you could say goodbye… You wanted to say goodbye.

Please God..

“ A…Last…”

“ At last ? What do you mean my Love?” he chuckled nervously, tearing his shirt to stop the bleeding. You almost chuckled, it was the first time you saw Alastor so out of control. You were almost sad to not be able to see more of it.

“ Alas…tor..” you bring your hand weakly toward his face, wiping blood off from his face. “ Kiss…Me…” you coughed blood, tilting your head to the side to spat the red liquid from your mouth. You wheezed as your vision was beginning to darken.

“ Darling, Look at me !” he took your face between his hands and kissed you like a starved man. You were surprised , you expected a cute peck on your lips, after all you had blood all over yourself, but Alastor was pressing his tongue against yours, like he wanted to devour you, to eat you,to consume you,  to be the final thing you would feel before leaving. You kissed him back weakly as you felt yourself not being able to breathe anymore.

You weren’t scared anymore, you would not die alone but in the arms of your Prince Charming and with the baby you were expecting.

—

He stepped back as he watched your body sink in his arms.  He stared at your face, blood looked good on you but he needed to bring you home to clean you. You wouldn’t like to wake up with blood all over the bedsheets. His sweet Angel.

His heart was beating but yours wasn’t.

He put his head against your bloody chest, waiting to hear your familiar heartbeat but he didn’t hear anything.

How odd.

“ Darling… My Love, look at me.” he stared at your face, waiting for you to open your eyes, tell him that everything was going to be okay.  His smile widened as he grabbed his hair, pulling it without noticing.

His heart was beating but yours wasn’t.

“ Are you … sleeping my Love?” he asked, tilting his head toward your face. No answer. Mhn… He knew you liked fairytales, sometimes you would not open your eyes in the morning until he kissed you like some kind of Prince Charming. He didn’t like the idea, he wasn’t nice like this but seeing the love in your eyes each time he put up this act was worth it.

He leaned toward you and kissed your lips and then looked at you. He pressed his ears against your chest.

His heart was beating but yours wasn’t.

Mhn… So, God decided to punish him for his crime of killing by taking you away from him. God took his angel back. He began to chuckle but then he laughed maniacally, his head tilted back, his smile wide.

You were his. You were his heart. You were what made him human. He did kill, hiding this side of his personality to you. He wanted to protect you, there were so many maniacs here. Just like the man who took your life.  

But with you gone… He couldn’t feel anything. He wasn’t human anymore.

He smiled as he held you in his arms. He stroked your cheeks lovingly.

His heart was beating but yours wasn’t.

“ Don’t worry Darling, they won’t kill me. How could you kill someone without a heart, mhn? I’ll avenge us my dear.”

He would become the devil that would paint New Orleans in red. He will kill them, the one who took his sweet darling from him. His chest was empty, not heart beating the only thing left working was his mad mind, already looking for a way to kill his next victims. And well, if you wanted to stop him?

Don’t throw away your shot.

[kentopedia]

carefully, i was going to live

FEATURING. past nanami kento x f!reader, gojo satoru x reader — wc: 2.9k

SUMMARY: you and gojo realize you share the same kind of pain.

CONTENTS: shibuya arc / jjk s2 spoilers, death, grief, depression, suicidal thoughts, references to disordered eating, implied satosugu, platonic gojo x reader, anger, angst, gojo isn’t sealed

note: reader & gojo’s relationship for the future is up to your interpretation. title is from a mitski song <3

The world was bleak outside your window.

With November came the death of all things beautiful. The trees grew barren, flowers wilted into dreary puddles, the sky turned a muddy shade of grey, and your house transformed into a tomb.

It was almost evening now. The streets were busy with people commuting home from work, children skipping along sidewalks after a tedious day at school. Each expression became the epitome of human nature, and through all their ups and downs, there they stood, alive.

You blinked at the scene, just enough to wet your eyes, trying to ignore the spiteful hatred that bubbled up in you against cheerful strangers.

When the women had a smile on their faces, your mind easily morphed them into miserable frowns, weaved a story of how their partners treated them terribly. Children’s loud giggles turned into wretched cries, sobs from spoiled complaints of not getting their way. Men’s casual conversations on their cell phones became a long-winded rant of how their job was slowly destroying them.

There wasn’t anything left for you in the world but misery. It should only be fair that other people received the same.

Perhaps that was an evil thought, but you didn’t care. The bed was cold, and it had started to smell of something awful from the sheets that housed your own grime and sweat. You shivered, bundling yourself up in the blankets more.

An ache increased in your stomach before it grumbled, breaking the silence. Though, it suppressed its own pleas, knowing better than to suspect sustenance after so many evenings of emptiness. Over and over, you ignored your hunger, a part of you hoping that your body would begin to devour itself from the inside out.

Perhaps, then, you’d finally achieve the peace that you’d been longing for.

From the world inside your mind, Kento scolded you, begged you to pull yourself out of the darkness that you’d crawled into. He’d be unhappy, that much was certain. One look at your unkempt hair would put a crease between his eyebrows. He’d recoil at the piled trash that you’d been too exhausted to take out.

Still, you knew better than to believe he’d be anything but kind about it. Stern, maybe, but uncompromising words would never leave his lips without soft eyes and a sad smile.

You swallowed down the nausea that erupted from within you, and buried yourself deeper into the pillow, wishing the couple in the distance would cease their affectionate embrace.

A tear collected on your lash line.

For a moment, you let yourself fall into the painful peace of delusion. A phantom touch rested on your skin, comforting fingertips dancing along your hip. Kento Nanami’s love pressed into every subtle graze. Please. Let me help you.

His voice was raspy, unfamiliar, and you wondered if you were starting to forget the sound of it, the exact inflection of his words, even though you listened to his painfully short inbox message every day, replayed the voicemails he left you more often than music.

A dry sob forced its way up, though no sound released as you squeezed Kento’s pillow tighter, digging your nose into the cotton. You were desperate for his lingering scent, but it had been two weeks since he’d been killed, and there was nothing left of him.

Still, you sprayed his old cologne on every surface, left everything as he had, and pretended that he was still around.

Grief hugged you tight, trying to embody the embrace that Kento had once given you. You didn’t hear the knock at your front door, muffled from two rooms away and the constant swirl of your heartbroken musings.

No one had visited you in two weeks. Itadori had tried, but you’d screamed far too cruelly at him, even though he was just a kid, and none of this was his fault. The list of guests had been shortened since then.

You didn’t blame them.

Someone said your name, though it was distant, and it was easy to chalk it up to your imagination. Though, the plea became a whisper through a grisly storm, then a scream over the fierce winds in an attempt to reach you.

You opened your eyes, shifting to face the noise. 

Satoru Gojo stood at the edge of your bed, his large frame towering over you with every ounce of power he’d been born with, his slack jaw unable to hide his horror at the mess you’d made of yourself. Blindfolded eyes flicked across the room, then, his lips curled into a grimace.

“You’ve been ignoring my calls,” he said. Another sound but your own breath was so unnatural in the stale room. It took you far too long to understand him.  

You blinked back once, before rolling over to return your attention to the window once more, the scene beyond it still playing like a television series. Kento had always hated that your bedroom had a view of the city, some illusion of privacy gone now that he could see the world outside. Though, it was the only thing you could be grateful for now, as that square panel of glass became your salvation.  

“Sorry.” Your voice was hoarse, raspy. You weren’t sure when you’d used it last. “Phone’s dead.” It had been for days. The slender device rested useless on your nightstand, and you wondered how many people had died since Kento; jujutsu sorcerers didn’t stop fighting just because you had.

Gojo shuffled around the room. You peered over your shoulder to see him sliding the charger into your phone, the screen lighting up later with a bright logo and a ding.

“Everyone’s been calling.” His back was to you, muscles taut with exhaustion and strain. “There aren’t enough sorcerers. We’ve lost so many people.”

You tensed and considered blocking your ears, humming a song like a petulant child. No part of you wanted to hear about Jujutsu. Satoru Gojo could manage on his own, and you didn’t give a damn about saving the world anymore.

“I can’t help you,” you said, realizing just how true that was. There wasn’t an ounce of energy within your body.

Though you had let yourself rot, you had grand plans of finding a curse you could never defeat. You would never be strong enough in your current state, and that was alright. You just wanted to go out with some semblance of a purpose, as Kento had. Maybe that way, it wouldn’t feel so much like a suicide.

“I know,” Gojo sighed, and you waited a minute before he spoke again. “That’s not why I came.”

You breathed; the process was no longer subconscious. “Then why are you here?”

Gojo came around the bed to stand in front of you once more, so close that he blocked your view of the window. His icy irises had been revealed, somehow warning you just how serious he was about this intervention.

The laugh you couldn’t muster up came out in a shaky exhale. You weren’t scared of Gojo, and you certainly weren’t impressed by him enough to listen to whatever wisdom he wanted to bestow upon you.

“I just want to help my old friend.” A twinge of pity in his voice irritated you, even though it was warranted. The scene before him couldn’t evoke any sort of emotion except for pathetic despair. “Is that so hard to believe?”

“No.” Your muscles were weak as you maneuvered your shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. “I just don’t care. Not even Satoru Gojo can fix everything. I thought you’ve learned that by now.” It was cruel, you knew that, but you spat the words without regret, rolling onto your back.

The stiffness in your hips alleviated, and finally, he couldn’t pin you with his gaze. You could only imagine the way he’d flinched at your comment, wondering when the shy, sweet girl from his youth had become such a bitter woman.  

Your eyes glued to the ceiling, and you imagined Kento there beside you, staring at you with a wistful smile while you merely blinked up at the white walls.

Gojo said your name again. Then he was tugging on your arm, and the clench around your heart unfurled, bringing you away from the desperate fantasy.

“Look at me,” Gojo said, and his words were harsher, exasperated, and you realized he’d been talking this entire time, minutes of one-sided conversation flowing in one ear and out the other.

“No, Satoru,” you growled, trying to resist, even though you didn’t have the strength. He pulled you to a seated position easily, forcing you to look at him once more, and never let go of your wrist. “Get out of my house.”

“Not until you talk to me.”

“Get out.”

“No.” Satoru stared at you, his eyes cold and unflinching, and for a moment, you realized just how fearsome he could be, why so many curses looked him in the eye and remembered that they didn’t stand a chance. Then, he blinked, and that image was gone, left with the picture of a broken man who had lost too many friends, and was trying not to lose you too. “You won’t talk to anyone; you won’t see anyone. You’re destroying yourself like this. I won’t let it go on any longer.”

The sympathy and disappointment in his voice disgusted you, and you recoiled with a renewed strength, slapping his hand away. “I don’t care if you want to be a hero now. You couldn’t help Kento, and you can’t help me. What good is being the strongest if you can’t even save the people that you care about?”

Gojo tensed, his jaw clenching like you’d slapped him across the face. That, at least, gave you some sort of satisfaction, even if it only lasted for a moment. A twinge of regret started, burning brighter and brighter until the weight of your comment came down on you.

There was a point to being angry at the world, to projecting your suffering onto strangers. They would never bear witness to every ounce of your misery. But Gojo had known you since you were a child, had cared about Kento too, and you were treating him no better than the curses that had killed the man you loved.

“Fine,” Gojo said more tersely. “I can’t help you. You have to want to help yourself, too.” He raked a hand across his face, revealing dark, purple circles, and sallow skin. The two of you were an ugly picture—the perfect personification of every struggle a jujutsu sorcerer could experience. “I just thought you’d want to know you still have a friend. Nanami and Haibara may be gone, and…” He looked away, mouth pulling down further. “Suguru, but I’m still here, you know?”

You swallowed, even though your lips were too parched to produce any saliva. They were cottony and stuck together as you spoke. “Don’t come back here, Gojo.” Though you swayed, lightheaded, you didn’t lay back down, only curled your knees into your chest, feeling small. “I don’t want to be a sorcerer anymore. I don’t want to remember any of it.”

Gojo hesitated, disappointed that his previous comment hadn’t hit as hard as he’d intended.

“What will you do, then?” he asked, his hands helplessly dangling by his side before he moved to sit beside you.

“Nothing.” The word felt like a punishment to say, even when that’s all you’d been doing, for days. Your life meant nothing anymore, so there was no point in trying. “I’ll forget I ever loved Kento Nanami and then I’ll disappear.”

Gojo’s face turned, his eyes narrowing, lips curling down. “No, you won’t.”

You almost came back with a childish retort—but it no longer seemed worth it. You turned back towards the window, wondering if it would rain soon. The sky looked like it might.

“Why not?”

“Because you’re the only person still alive who knew Nanami exactly as he was. There are people out there who cared enough about the both of you to not let you throw that all away.”

Guilt gnawed at you. Kento may not have ever respected Gojo for his decisions as a sorcerer, but deep down, he’d always known that he was a good man who tried to do right by everyone.

“What am I supposed to do, then?” you said, quietly at first, swallowing back the heavy emotions that weighed on you. Satoru watched you, never interrupting, though your pause was long and burdened. “I just want it to stop. It hurts so much, Satoru.”

“I know.”

“Everyone moved on like Shibuya never happened.” You twirled the ring around your finger as the heavy tears returned, ones that you’d thought had long been expelled. It seemed impossible that someone should be able to cry without end, yet, your grief was unrelenting, and your cheeks grew wet once more. “Everyone kept going, and I can’t do that. I can’t pretend like I didn’t lose my entire future. I’m never going to get married, Satoru. I’ll never be able to—”

You stopped, choked by your own emotions as a lump rose in your throat, sour like bile. It was the first time you’d said the words out loud. They tasted worse than they felt in your mind. You’d never be able to call Kento Nanami your husband.

Gojo’s eyes softened, and though he reached for you, you flinched away, swallowing over and over to bury your tears. Heaving breaths came, unsteady.

“Nanami wouldn’t want this for you.” It was cruel, too close to mockery to make you feel anything but anger.

You already knew that you were disappointing the man who loved you with every fiber of his being. The sight of you so weakened would wreck Kento, but you couldn’t get yourself to move out of the house. Not even when your skin yearned for a ray of sunlight, or your body screamed for something other than the stale convenience store snacks.

“Don’t say that. Kento’s not here anymore.” His name came out choked on your lips, the first time you’d said it since screaming it in misery. The word didn’t feel so much like love anymore. It was sorrow, wrapped into two tiny syllables. “What he’d want doesn’t matter.”

Satoru lowered his voice, treating you as fragile as you’d become, uncertain how to speak to someone who would never want to listen. “It does matter. He loved you so much.”

You covered your ears, squeezed your eyes shut. “Satoru, please. Stop it.”

“He’d want you to be happy—”

“I don’t care.” You spoke over his ramblings and pushed him away until you were certain he’d fall off the bed. Though, it did nothing to move him, strong and steadfast Satoru Gojo who would never be toppled. “You just don’t understand. I replay it over and over in my head, wondering why I wasn’t there, why you weren’t there.” You dropped your head in your hands, breathing into your palms like a paper bag. “It’s not fair.”

“Nothing’s fair.” Satoru said, the age-old cliché, a hand hesitant on your wrist. He was quiet when he said your name again. “I know how you feel.”

“No you don’t.” You slapped him away, even when he held strong, even when he let you see the anguish he usually hid away, let it erase the warmth from his expression.

You remembered dark long hair, kind brown eyes, a young man who had once held such a promising future. Two best friends that perhaps had been more, never sharing the secrets of their ill-fated bond.

“No, you don’t.”

Gojo was scooting closer, pulling you into his arms, the embrace tight, protective.

He was serious and sullen in a way that you hadn’t seen since Geto died. Gojo was a master at veiling his emotions in laughter, but it seemed now that your own emptiness was reflected back at you, the sheer desire to stop existing all at once.

“I know it better than anyone.” Nothing more than a whisper. The tears were too heavy and hot; there was nothing you could do to stop them. “You’re not alone.”

You were quiet for a moment, then another, before everything that you’d been feeling for the past two weeks crashed upon you like a wave, drowning you, and you were unable to breathe, clinging to Gojo like he was the only thing holding you above water.

You’d known Kento for ten years. You’d been strangers, friends, lovers parted by death before either of you had turned thirty, and though you weren’t the only person who had lost someone in Shibuya, you felt like the only one who was too weak to recover from it.

“Satoru.” Your voice broke. “I don’t know how to live without him.”

Gojo smiled. “You find a way.” Said so confidently, a man who’d been through it all before, and your heart shattered with sobs that came out uncontrollably, soaking Satoru’s shoulder.

Desperately, you clawed at his back, wishing you could wear his skin as a protective shield, could tear his heart out of his chest and trade it for your own, if only to gain an ounce of his strength. He held you tight in his arms, but nothing about him was the same, right down to the very blue eyes that had lost all their arrogance. Both had dimmed, and even the infinity within them seemed to end.

He didn’t smell like Kento, didn’t feel like Kento—but no one else had comforted you since he’d died, so you let him. Satoru kissed your forehead with an affection you’d already forgotten, reminding you to move on.

You never would.

[starlightdreaming]

Lucifer Morningstar x Reader! Ch. 3!

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel!

Content Warning: more… angst. with some comfort..(?) idk starve lol. blood and vulgar words. SUPER LONG CHAPTER TOO WOO! (nonproof read too)

Synopsis: after going through severe depression, you mentally and physically shut down.

Further note: THANK YOU FOR THE PEOPLE WHO ARE SUPPORTING MY SERIES (Lululuna) IT MAKES ME SO FUCKIGN HAPPY AAHAHAHHDVENE (this is also my favorite chapter I’ve been waiting to write HEHEHHE) ENJOY READING AS IVE ENJOYED WRITING IT - ✨Lolo💫

Chapters!: Chapter 1 ✧ Chapter 2 ✧ Chapter 3 (you are here) •<•)b ✧ Chapter 4 ✧ Chapter 5

THIS CHAPTERS SONG IS uhhHhahwueh

(optional but recommended!)

｡･:*:･ﾟLululuna･ﾟ:｡*:･｡

After sending Lucifer away, you were silent during the whole aftermath ordeal.

You stared at the ground for a long while, sitting in the middle of the court room, ignoring and blocking everyone that was talking or looking at you. In a room so loud, in your mind, it was deathly silent.

Sera went to you, tapping your shoulder softly, “come along now, Y/n,” She says, softly, “Let’s get you home, alright?” She offers, standing up, waiting for you to collect yourself and get up as well.

the carpet was drenched with a puddle of tears, you felt like a part of you was gone forever… and you weren’t ever going to get it back. You dry your tears, using your sleeves to wipe them off your face before getting up and taking Sera’s hand into your own, she held your hand softly, teleporting you to the front of your home.

“Take all the time you need.” Sera says, understanding how much pain you were going through, you have told her everything after all in your years of working with her after you and Lucifer fell apart. She teleported away as you stood at your front door for a moment, staring at the door before unlocking it and pushing it open with no effort at all, your home was dark from how late it was,

The sun was gone, put away to rest, and the moon was present, subtle and set.

You walked into your home, stars barely dimming any light in the dark home, you closed your door behind you, leaning on it with a sigh, your exhausted eyes felt puffy from all the tears you had shed after seeing Lucifer for the last time, the way he looked at you as he fell, bore into your mind, it’s been haunting you since.

‘maybe it was a mistake?’ you thought as you conversed in your head for the nth time that day, your mind was haunting you endlessly with years of torment after Lucifer left you behind, your heart and mind were always arguing with one another, your heart always begged to talk things out even if the pain was unbearable but your mind was more of in control with your body, trying to keep your heart safe, trying to keep you safe from any more suffering. you just didn’t know what to do.

Tears fell from your eyes again that night, wishing to be held and comforted by someone who would understand the same pains as you, and that someone was no one.

Down at your door you sat, hugging your knees as you cried out your pain, the exact same spot when you cried yourself to sleep on your last birthday, the last birthday you shared with Lucifer. It wasn’t a good memory to remember but… it was a memory that was telling you, ‘here we are, once again.’ and that was enough to make you cry harder as you hugged yourself with the silence screams that no one could ever see or hear…once.. again.

✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧

Day in, day out.

As time passed, you were slowly recovering from the losses of your childhood friend.

Day in, day out.

As time passed, you focused on your work behind the scenes, Emily bringing joy to those around Halo city, welcoming winners and Heaven born angels all around. With more Earth born angels arriving in Heaven, the population of the people grew, meaning more expansions of the city and more expansions of the city, meant you had to work much, much longer.

Day in, day out.

You were falling behind on your creations, being the only ‘angel’ that could make stars, Sera would often have to come and talk to you and your issues of the star makings. You and Sera both tried to get other angels to make the same stars as you, sentient and beautiful, but it was only ever botched and dull when anyone else tried to make them, leaving you at a loss. You often had to stay up in late night hours, until the sun came back up, barely ever giving you the chance to go back home and rest. After one problem, another came along, you began to feel confined behind those four walls.

Day in, day out.

Your life was just stuck in the same room, rarely ever getting out, star after star, it began to be repetitive and passionless, everything was the same.

Day in, day out.

Sera would often visit you, telling you to keep making an nth amount of stars today or tomorrow, sooner or later, she would just leave notes and piles of paperwork her employers would send to you, leaving you in the dust, life became frail and dulling, you were just a machine at that point, neglected and forgotten as you kept making sentient stars constantly.

Day in, day out.

Nothing’s new. Days, weeks, months, years, nothing was changing as you drowned more in more into a bleak and miserable office, you felt more and more empty, you would wake up and sleep, you lost track of time at this point, your office was just a mess of star dust and stars, the windows were black from the dust staining the windows making them unobtrusive, you sat on the floor in the center, feeling stuck and hopeless. Surrounded by the only thing that brought you comfort, now becoming the only thing you were ever useful for.

Day in, day out.

How long has passed? You didn’t care anymore. All you wanted was to escape and be free from this basked room of misery and self loathing, your stars became gloopy and sticky, they were melting in this room like you were.

Day in, day out.

You couldn’t bare another minute in the same room, your arms were stained black from stars that melted on you from time to time, the stars were barely ever successfully made anymore, you just couldn’t continue anymore.

Day in, day out.

Long and forgotten you were, nothing new and changing, just you in a black room, full of dust and gloopy stars. You laid there meaninglessly, your eyes lifeless and you completely numb, tired and exhausted.

Day in, day out.

Nothing’s new, nothing’s new, nothing’s new, nothing’s new, nothing’s new, nothing’s new, nothing’s new, nothing’s new, nothing’s new, nothing’s new, nothing’s new, nothing’s new, nothing’s new, nothing’s new.

Day in, day out.

After days of laying there, eating your own stars as survival, refusing to allow anyone into your room, Sera finally showed up for once after eons or centuries? you don’t even know anymore. She wasn’t as loving or caring as she used to be, it was to be expected since you lost sight of you as a sister and more of a machine. When she ordered you to get up and do something, you refused to respond as you continued to lay there, seeing as doing anything anymore was futile.

She commanded you again and she received no result, When she picked you up from the ground, she saw how lifeless you really were, she teleported you to a hospital, getting you attention from the doctors as quick as possible, they checked you, you were alive, obviously, but mentally, you died out long ago.

✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧

✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧

The nurses cleaned and fed you, you were barely responsive but it was progress to them if you ever reacted.

You laid in that hospital bed, day in, day out.

One day, Emily came to visit you, you didn’t bother until she used her powers on you. As the joy bringer of the people, she managed to give you a glimpse of happiness again and that was enough to bring color back into your eyes and look at her.

A nurse watching, left to contact a doctor. Emily smiled at you as she channeled her energy to you, hugging you and asking you questions to see if you would respond, it took awhile but you managed to wry a smile and tell her, “hi..” a croak in your voice from how raspy your throat felt, she tilted her head with a comforting smile, “hi,” she said, “how are you feeling?” she asks genuinely, her hand over your yours as she channeled more of her angelic energy, soothing you physically and mentally, “I’m alright.” you responded with a croaky voice, “yeah?” she asks, “yeah.” you respond.

A doctor showed up to give you a thorough check up, the nurse following and thanking Emily as she lightly laughed off the nurses praises. Your eyes were still dull but they had color now, the bags under your eyes were visible from the years lack of resting, black circles covered your eyes but seeing you be able to smile was just enough for the doctor to say you were responsive now. The doctor and nurse left the room to get you your meal or checking on other patients, leaving you and Emily once again.

Emily would talk to you, making small conversations, tell you about her day and sharing her energy with you again to make you more at ease, she even told you how Sera refused to let her see you cause you were always too busy for visitors, that was true but it was also the reason you were here in the first place. When visiting time was over she promised to come back to visit you tomorrow, you smiled at that, waving bye as she left.

Now it was you, yourself, and the white room and for once, you decided to stand up and look outside the window, the stars shined and dimmed brightly that night, the stars were the only thing making your eyes shine that night, their light reflecting off your eyes irises.

with the day done and in, you rested peacefully in that hospital bed, letting the day out.

Emily visited everyday to see you, still seeing you as a sister and telling you her life stories, she even managed to make you laugh at one point, it was a big laugh but it was genuine and thats what matters to her. At one point, you managed to ramble off about stars and the ideas you had for them, you got to show her how you made them, you tried to show her as well when she requested to guide her to make one, obviously it didn’t work but she smiled whenever she got to be given the chance to, she gave you the botched star that was lavender blue, it was small with imperfections but for the first time in the longest time, someone had given you something and you never were letting it go.

You used a little bit of your stardust to make it stick in your hair, making sure it stays there, no matter what. Emily smiled when she saw it in your hair, seeing how much it matters to you. You and Emily both spent the entire day talking and creating, sharing and conversing, it was so comforting and warm, her light was guiding you out of that dark abyss you had made for yourself and eventually- you were out the hospital.

You went back to that same office room but this time, you cleaned it, you made more stars, the neglected ones being perfected and revived, sentient and chiming. With your office cleaned you decided to get a meeting with Sera personally. It took a few days but it was accepted and eventually you were in her office, she looked at you authoritatively, not seeing you as she had once, who knows long ago.

“What is it, Y/n?” She says, sitting at her desk as you walked up to her desk and took a seat in the chair at the opposite end. “I quit.” You spoke, unhesitant, “What?” She says, rather surprised, “I quit,” you smiled, crossing your arms, “at making stars for you and the people.” you finished, watching her reaction change, “and what makes you think you can?” She says with a slightly aggressive tone, glaring at you slightly, “I am my own person, I want a new job,” You say, sitting back in your chair, “then- will I make more stars for you.” You say, your her fingers intertwined and resting on your lap, legs crossed.

She stood up, her figure towering over you from over the table, “You refused to continue your work, end up in a hospital for who knows what and now you’re asking for a new job?” She asked, feeling rather insulted like you can laze around and do whatever you want, “Yes, that’s exactly what.” You smiled, unbothered, Emily made you feel this way, like a new person, she was therapy itself in a way.

“And you think you can handle a different job? even when you couldn’t even handle your own?” She glares, you leaned forward into your chair, “got bored with the stars thing, without a doubt I can do something else.” You say looking at her smugly, making her harden her glare at you. maybe Emily gave you too much of her energy.

“Fine then.” She says, turning around, looking away from you and out the window, she snapped her fingers and a man appeared next to you, “Woah- wait, what the fuck?” He says, looking around the room, looking at Sera, then at you, “You will be working with Adam from now on,” She says, turning back to you, you and Adam staring at each other awkwardly, before he began to wiggle his eyebrows at you with a flirty smirk, “Adam, you are to train and teach Y/n, show and tell her what she will be doing.” Sera orders, you had your knees up in the chair leaning away from Adam, due to him gawking at you before he looked away to Sera, “Wait now? Don’t you think it’s too soon for any recruits?” He questions, pointing a thumb at you.

“She wanted a new job since she failed to do her own,” Sera explains to Adam as you rolled your eyes from her statement, “since she says she can handle a new one, I’m giving her this one.” Sera finishes, sitting down back in her chair, “But we were just about to start? she wont even have time to prepare?” Adam responds, scratching his horn confused from this sudden meeting, “Then I suggest you get started,” Sera commands, going back to skimming through papers, “Dismissed.” She says, as you and Adam turn to each other confused.

You both left together, him leading and you following silently and awkwardly, your confidence long and left you after Adam appeared. “So what’s your name again? Already forgot.” He says looking at you, bending down slightly for you to meet face to face, you backed away from his action, “err, Y/n.” you respond, looking away for a moment before looking back at him, “Well nice to meet you, names Adam, first man, best man.” He smiles, reaching his hand out for you to take, you hesitated before shaking his hand, wrying a smile, “pleasure.” You speak, only giving him that response.

You both exited the building before flying, going to who knows where, “soo, before we get started, should probably ask what you do before you jump in the big ordeal, what do you do and how can you benefit us?” He asks, you flying alongside him, “I can do stellar manipulation, cosmic manipulation and stellar healing but im terrible at it,” You rambled, pointing a finger up after listing off your abilities, “What I can do best is making sentient stars do my bidding, like the stars that are all over Halo city? I made those.” You smiled, “Woah! wait, you made all those things come alive? that’s fucking sick!” He says complimenting you, “So you must be a big deal huh?” He smirks, “Ehh, I guess?” You shrug slightly with a smile.

“Ohoh, if you can control those stars, then you’re perfect for this job.” He smirks as he lands, you landed behind him as you looked around at everyone, them all wearing the same suits, you were confused now, just what even is this job?

“Sir? where did you go?” a female voice asked, “Sera teleported me outta nowhere for me to bring someone along with us,” he explains pointing to you, you walk up to her, “greetings, I’m Y/n.” you smile and waved, “Lute, Adam’s Lieutenant.” She says as she straightens her posture, giving you a short and slim response. “Attention ladies! we have a sudden and new guest! this is uhh,” he pauses before leaning toward you, “fucks your name again?” he asks as you deadpanned, how does someone forget a name so fast? “Y/n.” You respond, “Y/n!” He says, “Seraphim of the stars or something.” He says, trying to make you sound like big talk, “She will be joining us today, she isn’t prepared but thats okay, she will just be an audience for today at most, so everyone prepare yourselves,” Adam says as they pull out spears, making your confusion more piqued, “and let’s this fucking show on a roll!” he shouts, a portal opening, him flying off with his lieutenant.

You were caught off guard from them suddenly flying off, you followed, a little behind but you caught up quickly to Adam, (being a seraphim and all) staying behind him and Lute, when you went through the portal, you paused in the air, confused on where in the world were you? everything was red, the sky, the ground, it wasn’t long before you started hearing screaming in the distance, the angel army was flying and attacking, monster like creatures, “What the fuck is this?” You say in shock, “Oh shit, you curse too? fucking sweet!” Adam says, showing up next to you, watching the angels slaughter the creatures, “where am I?!” You ask with a shaky voice, concern and worry filling your voice, “You’re in hell, bitch!” He says, summoning an angelic guitar made of pure gold, strumming it.

“WHAT?” You say absolutely baffled from his answer, you quickly turned to look down at the destroyed city, those little things running around and screaming, pleading for their lives as they get brutally slaughtered, “why are we killing them?! they did nothing!” You say in a terrified voice, looking back at Adam, “calm down bitch, fuck,“ He says, making you glare at him instantly, “they’re sinners! We give them divine judgment!” He smirks, flying down and killing a sinner without hesitation, “Stop it!” You tell at him, your angelic form appearing from how terrified you were to discover that your divine people were slaughtering innocent souls that have done nothing but accept their damnation, “No, you stop it!” He says, flying back up to you, making you fly back when he got too close, “Sera ordered you to follow my lead, you are under my command!” He yells back, an explosion happening behind him, a city building tumbling, you stared in guilt, you didn’t even do anything to them and yet all you could feel was pure sympathy and sorrow for those souls who didn’t deserve the judgment they were receiving.

“Now, you’re going down there and helping us kill these fuckers or you can sit and watch.” Adam orders, you didn’t have any words to respond with as you looked down at the sinners, there was a young lady who was carrying a child away from the chaos, you couldn’t help but watch, you were too stunned to process anything, Adam flew off mumbling something under his breath, definitely cursing at you but you didn’t even care at that moment.

An angel chasing quickly behind the two sinners, the angels spear charging towards the two, before you can even give a second thought, you summoned a star quickly, tossing it at the angel, hitting them down before they could hurt the two, you gasped, surprised from your own actions, you hurt an angel, the angels you’re supposed to care for and protect! you watched the angel shrug it off like nothing before flying away to a different direction, giving the sinners the chance to run, why was Heaving allowing slaughter? doesn’t this go against the very foundations of Heaven? why didn’t you know about this was ever happening? and how long has it been happening? Sera assigned you here, so it’s obvious she knows! why would she allow this- wait.. does the father of Heaven know?

You quickly flew down to the city to find Adam, to find answers, but all you saw was bloodshed and destruction, spears left behind and angels flying around like they were proud of themselves, it gave you a gut wrenching feeling, “please spare me! don’t kill me!” A voice called out, you turned to see a sinner running for their life, your eyes widen when you see an angel walking up to the sinner, a manic laugh following behind them, you ran toward the sinner and the angel, you stood between them both, stopping the angel in her tracks, “I command you to stop!” you say aggressively.

The angel taken back by your sudden actions and outburst, “What are you doing? move it.” the angel said, trying to shove you away but you pushed back and it made the angel push you completely to the ground, moved to the side, you didn’t have any attributes to physical fighting and it showed, you fell to the ground, looking up quickly to see the angel about to attack, without a second thought, you summons another star, a rather big one and made it push her aggressively, you made the star make the angel collide with a building, knocking the angel out, you gasped, not meaning to go that far but you turned to the sinner and ran to their aid, “are you okay??” you ask the terrified man before you, he looked at you in awe, you angelic features making the man stunned and mesmerized, “yes… thank yo- gh-“ the man choked, a spear through his throat, his blood splattered onto your clothes, hands and face, you closed your eyes for a moment from the sudden liquid of blood covering your face.

You opened your eyes and your eyes widened when you saw Adam and Lute in front of you, the sinner headless and long gone of life, “Fuck do you think you’re doing?” Adam said, yelling at you, you looked down and stared at the red, staining your hands, your breath hitched, you were trying to save a soul and it died immediately in front of you, before your very eyes, from feeling sympathy and sorrow, you clutched your hands tightly, a fit of rage riling up inside you, “ADAM! THIS STOPS NOW!” You shout, your angelic appearance in full as you flew into the air, cosmic dust following your form, your wings emitted cosmic dust, along with your hands, star dust following suit.

You glared at Adam, Lute glaring back at you, sensing you were about to become a threat, she immediately charged at you before swinging at you, you immediately summoned a star as a shield, side eyeing her, you made the star push her down, away from you, another star attacking her swiftly and powerfully, knocking her out too, Adam watched it happen so quickly, “What the fuck was that? what did you do to Lute?!” He says, going after you next, he was much slower but he managed to fight off your stars as he kept swinging at you, you being the faster flying, dodged easily, they may have been more experienced than you but they were so damn sloppy with their attacks. not to mention as a seraphim, you are much more stronger.

You flew higher into the air, a radiant aura forming around you, “This massacre ends now, Adam.” you say in a monotone voice, focusing on your power as you began to summon multiple stars, making all sentient at once, you were using a lot of stamina for this but you were willing to do this if it meant stopping this meaningless wrath of judgment.

You had made stars fall, multiple stars stuck onto Adam as he tried to fight them off but you made the goopy ones specifically for him, eventually he was invulnerable to move, the stars sticky and drippy, making it hard for him to struggle, you glared at Adam silently as he began to curse you out, you made a big star float flatly, carrying Lute back into the portal along with Adam as the stars took his guitar and carried it with him separately, your other stars retrieved the other angels in this army, dragging them all back forcefully to the portal, you made the other spare stars fly up to the skies and make it rain stardust in the skies, the dust was full of healing properties, making sure the sinners that survived could heal physical injuries, you hoped it was enough for them since you weren’t very experienced with the healing attributes you had, feeling your stamina drained, you flew back to the portal, closing it as you flew to the grounds of Heavens cloud, panting heavily, you had never used that much of your abilities like that before, all at once in fact.

You looked up to see Adam pissed off at, struggling to break free from goopy stars you still had on him, you laughed lightly at this, that shits kinda funny.

You splat onto the cloud, face first, regaining your stamina for a bit, meanwhile the whole army Adam had was conversing in confusing, they tried to help Adam get out of the goop but that only made the. stuck with him, you turned to lay on your back, wings following and looked up to the sky, for once, you felt rather proud of yourself for being able to full something like that but now it was the worse part to come, after recollecting your energy, you got up and flew off, dragging Adam with you, the stars of goop following as he muffled our screams.

When you returned to Sera’s office, you busted down the door with any respect, “Sera!” you shouted angrily, “We need to take about this job offer.” you grumbled, slamming your hands down her desk, the goop of stars putting Adam down as he deadpanned at you and Sera. Sera’s eyes widened from your sudden outburst and the blood covering your body, “I assume you couldn’t handle it?” Sera asked, after recollecting herself, “Handle it? I more than handled it, I dragged a whole fucking army back into Heaven!” You screamed, Sera glared as she stood up, “That was not your job, your job was to follow Adams orders!” she spoke back sternly, “This job and his orders are hypocritical to what we believe in! this is conflicting to the foundation of Heaven!” You argued back as Adam watched, Sera stared at you before sighing, “Can we speak alone about this?” she requests, eyeing Adam, signaling you to let him leave, “fine.” you scowl at her in detestation, you snap your fingers and the goop evaporated, also summoning his guitar to give back to him, “Christ, you’re a crazy bitch, you know that?” He says insultingly, he spoke as soon he got his guitar but you ignored him as the ordered the with a swift of your finger, the stars dragged him out the room and shut the door, all while you stared at Sera with displeasure.

“Why would you let winners and heaven born give divine judgment to sinners? What was your plan? What the fuck even is this job??” You began, hostility filling your voice. “The sinners were uprising, they were getting more and more bigger in population!” Sera responds, beginning her explanation, “and?” you asked unconvinced, “They were getting stronger, of they become to powerful, they may even reach the Heavens! they would take over and spread evil all over our realm.” She continues as you scoff, “and why would you think that? you doubting your fathers abilities to keep that under control?” you point out as she looks away, making you ponder, “does he even know you’re allowing your people to slaughter souls?” You ask.

She glared at you as she sat up in her seat, “He doesn’t and won’t know.” she says calmly and authoritatively, “seriously?! you’re doing this behind his back?!” You say, raising your voice in shock and anger, “unbelievable!” You say as you step beck from her desk, turning to leave her office, “and where do you think you’re going?” She asks, “where am I going? i’m going to tell all of Heaven on what the fuck you’re doing thats what!” you shout back, opening the door to leave but it shits immediately, Sera now in front of you, “you’re not going anywhere.” she says darkly, her figure towering over you as eyes appeared over her body, her angelic form showing.

You stepped back, looking at her staring daggers at her as she stepped closer to you, “and what makes you think I can’t?” you taunt, as she stood tall in front of you, “you will be silenced.” She says as pulls out an angelic spear of her own, knowing that she was threatening your life now, “What will Emily think when she finds you slaughtered her own sister?” You ask, putting up a facade of bravery, trying not show that she was getting to you, “Emily is not your sister.” Sera says aggressively and threateningly with pure hostility in her voice, seeing as that got to her it made you smug, “We’ll see when she finds out about how you allow her people kill the innocent.” You smirk with a shit-eating grin, knowing that no matter what she did, it wouldn’t turn out well for her.

It in-fact: did not turn out well for you, “We’ll see, when you’re gone for good.” She says as she swiftly moved you too quickly for you to react, her angelic spear carving your back, a mass amount of pain following as you screamed, you fell forward as she pushed you down as she stabbed her spear through her wing, making you wince in pain, adrenaline fueling your body from the shock that she actually took this path of violence. You tried to get up but she stepped on your back, pushing you back down, you look up at her in fear, her cold dead eyes staring into yours, “long before you know it, Emily will forget you even exist.” She says, swinging at your back again as you scream from agony, golden blood now mixing into the dried blood that covered you, you were shaking from terror and pain, she picked you up from your neck, as you struggled in her grasp, “stop- it!-“ you begged, trying to breathe, trying to kick her off you as golden blood dripped onto the ground in her office, she didn’t respond as she opened a portal, you turned to look, the familiar red skies before your very eyes, you turn to Sera desperately, “Don’t do this!-“ you gasped, struggling more in desperation, “You can’t!” You say, trying to pull her grasp off you, you were losing air and the stamina in your body.

“But I will.” She says with no solace or pity in her voice, she threw you into the portal with a second thought, closing it quickly, you gasped for air, adrenaline fueling your body as you regained oxygen to breathe but that was the least of your worries now, you were falling and your wings were to injured to fly, you were panicking as you tried to use your wings to fly but the pain was to unbearable, you saw your stars in the sky from earlier, protecting the sinners, thats it! thats your only ticket, you immediately tried to summon stars but it was a struggle to do so from how much power you already used from earlier, you had to overexert your abilities again, you mustered all the strength you had left within you, your angelic form showing as a bright colorful aura gleamed around you, you summoned stars but it was so hard to focus with adrenaline and panic that was fueling your body, you manage to make some stars but they were falling with you, some staying in place in the air for you to land on but you would quickly bounce off them from impact, you couldn’t focus at all, the sky rained stars that you had tried to quickly make but failed to use, it was too late as you crashed into the ground, a crater formed around you.

Your whole body hurt, it hurt more than anything you felt before, you weakly tried to sit up, you look at something glowing on the ground, you look to see a lavender blue star, the imperfect perfect star Emily had gifted you fell out of your hair, you winced in pain as your reached for the star, grabbed it and holding it to your chest as you laid back onto the ground, completely lost of any stamina and energy left to give.

Golden blood began to surround and puddle around you, the adrenaline and pain was the only thing keeping you awake right now, you laid there weakly, looking at the now red skies, you couldn’t do anything but only to try and breathe, trying to stay away, you were alone and no one in hell was going to go and try to save you. You were helpless, alone, once again. You couldn’t help but cry, scream in pain, why was this always happening to you? Why couldn’t you just find happiness? Why couldn’t the universe- help its only and dearest child? Your screams were so loud but they always heard im deaf ears, why did fate choose you to suffer this path? you screamed until you couldn’t anymore, you stared at the red sky as you waited for your in pending death. While looking at the sky, you see the stars shift toward you, raining their star dust onto you, the dust leaving soft touches on your skin, they felt like cool kisses, soothing your pain, you smiled weakly at your creations, your eyes feeling heavy as they tried closing, you fighting to keep them open but you eventually lost that battle.

eventually, everything went to black.

✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧•✧

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Playing With Fire: Chapter 9

Jason Todd (Red Hood) x Fem!Reader (Criminal)

Trope: Enemies to Lovers, Forbidden Romance

Warnings: strong language, angst, emotional turmoil, mentions of abuse, murder, past and present trauma, hurt with comfort, domestic life

WC: 9.1K

Summary: The truth is standing right in front of you, the past you longed to forget is being unburied, all while he proves that he never meant to leave you. Where do you go from here?

Series Masterlist

Chapter 8 || Chapter 10

The cracking of the thunder spread throughout the dark sky as the lightning lit up the night every few minutes. It had started to downpour, causing the streets to get oversaturated with water and an onslaught of puddles forming in the alleyways. The sound of the falling water added to the gray ambiance of the night, making the sound of the streets muted as the downpour got louder. 

You sped through the streets, a burning pressure behind your eyes as you sucked in a breath, your lungs burning for oxygen as you felt the water sting your skin from the speed you were going on your bike. You tried holding back your tears, trying to breathe without suffocating on your silent, broken sobs. Once you reached the street leading to where you wanted to be, you forced yourself to remain calm, ditching your bike near an abandoned building and ran through the streets towards the building you’d avoided for six years. 

You used the buildings around you to make the 78 story climb, reaching the roof as your lungs burned. You let the rain hit you as you walked towards the ledge, looking down at the street as you sucked in a breath, your body going into overdrive. You knew the adrenaline was keeping you from completely buckling under the pain as your mind recounted his last words to you. 

I promise when I come back you’ll know me as…. me. We’ll get a real date. Just wait for me. Please. 

Don't think I'm abandoning you. I promise I'll come back for you. 

You looked up at the sky as your lip quivered, your sobs breaking out as the storm drowned out your cries. Anxiety overwhelmed your senses, fear consuming your mind, and heartbreak filling your chest. 

“Y/n”, you flinched at the sound of his voice, his words barely audible. His voice. 

You slowly lowered your head, looking back down at the street as you sucked in another heavy breath. Turning slowly, you met his gaze, those deep green eyes that you’d grown to admire since the first time you saw them. His clothes were drenched, his hair sticking to his forehead as it was weighed down due to the rain. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?”, his voice carried out as he walked towards you, suddenly halting once he heard the crack in your voice as you spoke. 

“How long…”, you whispered, your eyes filled with guilt, sadness, hurt. 

“What?”, his voice forced out trying to speak over the rain, his hand reaching for you as you recoiled away from him. He felt a sting in his chest at your reaction, his hand falling back down to his sides.

“How long… have you known who I am?”, you breathed. “How long were you going to wait before you told me you were Robin?”

You watched as his eyes flashed with guilt, his jaw tightening as he held your gaze. The rain poured down relentlessly, the cold mixing with the raw emotions coursing through you as you stared at him. You stood there, soaked to the bone, the weight of Red’s words and your heartbreak pressing heavily on your shoulders. It felt like you were being weighed down by a 500 pound weight. He stood a distance away, the space between you making him feel detached and out of reach despite him only being a few feet away.

“Y/n..”, he was at a loss, his voice barely audible over the howls of the storm. He took a step towards you, the distance making him feel heavy and worlds away from you. How did you find out…

“Was this some kind of game for you? Was all this just to torture me some more?”, your rain soaked body was shaking under the weight of the water and your heavy heart feeling like it couldn’t pulse anymore. Your voice cracked as you tried to fight the tremors of pain in your chest, the cold rain mixed with your tears as your body shivered uncontrollably as you watched him come closer towards you. 

“I wanted to tell you” he breathed, his voice rough and filled with guilt and regret. He took another slow step towards you, his eyes filled with an emotion that almost mirrored your own. 

“How. Long.”, you tried to force the words out, your eyes glossed from holding back the tears forming in your eyes, your voice filled with frustration, despair, and hurt. You held his gaze, desperate for answers, your emotions too tangled and messy to even form a coherent thought.

“I…”, his voice cut off, overwhelmed by the relentless rain that drowned his words out. “I knew since that night on the roof… when you told me to leave you alone because of..”

“Because it was the day you left.”, you finished for him, your voice sharp and pained. The memories of that night and the weight of his disappearance felt like a knife twisting deeper into your heart. You felt weak, like you couldn’t breathe and you were suffocating on your words. 

“I saw the necklace I gave you and I just… I wanted to tell you.”, he confessed, his eyes looked at the chain around your neck as your hand reached up to clasp the necklace. Your hand was shaking as you held the pendant, reminding you of a time when life was simpler, a time before everything fell apart, a lifeline to the past. All these years you’d kept a piece of him despite how he left you.

A heavy silence enveloped you both, the downpour of the rain remaining as the only sound hanging in between the two of you. You looked down at the ground, your eyes burning from the pressure building behind them, from the tears that refused to fall while your heart ached with the crushing weight of his words and the memories they stirred. 

“You were never supposed to get caught up in all of this.”, Red confessed as he got closer to you, his voice carrying a hint of desperation as he closed the remaining distance between you. His eyes searched yours, pleading for you to understand. “You were not a possibility I thought of when I started going after Black Mask.”

Your breath hitched, a choked sob escaping your lips as you watched him, the rain plastering your hair to your face. The pain of his confession, the acknowledgement of the choices he made without considering you, it felt like another deep cut was being made into your heart taht you couldn’t comprehend.

“I didn’t want this for you.”, his voice broke. 

The vulnerability he held in his tone, the anguish of a man who had been both a victim and the cause of pain, was almost more than your heart could bear. His confession did little to sooth the agony of the past years, only adding another layer of complexity to the shattered truth between you. You stood there, drenched and emotionally raw, trying to process every emotion you had inside of you. You wanted answers, an explanation, anything to give you closure but at the same time, if he truly was the victim of Joker’s abuse… you wanted to understand him too. 

What had he lost when Joker killed him?

You met his gaze, the depth of your pain mingling with the yearning for the connection you once shared with him. The rain continued to fall, a sort of symbolism to show the storm raging outside and within the both of you. 

“Joker.. He told me that he..”, you finally spoke, but couldn’t bring yourself to say it. Saying it out loud made it feel real, made it feel tangible, made it feel as horrific as you envisioned it.

“That he killed me?”, he finished for you as you nodded slightly. His voice was raw, his eyes filled with a pain you’d never seen before. He took a ragged breath, fighting to maintain his composure as he recounted every moment of the horrors he’d endured at the hands of Joker. The storm around you mirrored the onslaught of emotions filling the air around you both, the rain providing a backdrop to your shared grief. 

“Joker…” his voice trembled. “He beat me to an inch of my life with a crowbar. Hit me in every possible place you could hit a person and didn’t stop until it felt like every bone in my body was broken.” he paused, letting his eyes close at the painful memories he just witnessed flash before his eyes. 

“But it wasn’t just the beating.”, he continued. “It was the way he tortured me, making me feel every ounce of pain before leaving me to die. I was left in that warehouse with nothing but the weight of my own suffering and the knowledge that I’d never get to see you again. The thought of you—of how you’d be alone without me—was the only thing that kept me going through the darkness. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, couldn’t think. After he was done torturing me in that fucking warehouse, he left me in handcuffs and barely any strength to get to the door to escape, Not like I would have anyway.”

You felt a sting in your chest, your tears cascading down your face but you couldn’t differentiate the rain from your tears as they meshed together in the fall. You looked at him in shock, confusion, and sadness. You held his gaze, his eyes never leaving yours. You felt weak with every word he said, feeling the agony in his voice. The truth of his suffering, the raw detail of his torment, and the depth of his desire for vengeance were almost too much to bear.

“The building was locked from the outside. By the time I realized, the bomb had been set to go off and that was it for me. Joker… he left me there to die.”, Red continued, his voice strained as he replayed the brutal reality. The rain mixed with your tears, the cold seeping into your bones as he laid everything out for you. You couldn’t begin to wrap your mind around the agony he had endured, the way Joker just… left him to die. The images of his, broken and beaten, was something you had never wanted to see, let alone have confirmed.  “I was brought back by the Lazarus pit. It took me months to recover, to understand why everything was happening. I wanted revenge, I wanted… want to kill Joker for what he did to me. That’s what all of this has been about, it’s all been about him.”

“You should have left me out of it.”, your voice was a fractured whisper, barely audible over the storm. “Why put me through more torture?! You watched me mourn you! You fucking consoled me while I was dealing with the grief of losing you and you didn’t say a fucking word!”

Red’s face contorted with a mix of pain and frustration. His shoulders tensed, his fists clenched as his sides, struggling to find the right words to explain. 

“Dammit Y/n, don’t you get it? I have spent the last two years plotting, planning how to get him out of that godforsaken lunatic house and into the street so I could be the one to watch the life drain out his eyes the same way he did to me. My hits were at Black Mask. I knew he would break Joker out of Arkham, I didn't know he would partner with Penguin. I never intended for you to get caught in the middle of it.” 

His voice was laced with desperation that made your heart ache even more. You shook your head, tears still falling as they mixed with the rain. “So you think that justifies everything? You think you can make it alright by saying you never meant for me to be involved?” Red stepped closer, his expression mixed with determination. “No. I don’t think it justifies anything. I’m not trying to make excuses. I just-” 

“Then you should’ve stopped!”, you yelled, your voice cracking with raw emotion.”The second you found out you could’ve told me! What was it that you couldn’t just tell me?”

“If they found out you knew about me, they would have killed you. Sionis would have found a way to take you out the equation completely. Do you think I'd forgive myself if they did to you what Joker did to me six years ago? I’d rather they kill me all over again than let them find out that you knew”, his voice was pleading, desperate for you to understand the impossible position he had been in. 

“I hated you for years.”, you continued, your voice trembling with the weight of your grief. “And all while you were right in front of me the entire time! Was this a fucking game to you? Did watching me in pain somehow make you feel better for fucking leaving me?”, you asked him through your broken sobs, your body shaking from the cold. 

His hands clenched into fists at his sides. “I never left you. I fought to come back to you.”

Your broken sobs grew louder, the rain creating a blur of pain and sorrow. “You have no idea what the hell I went through the last six years.”, you choked. “I kept going back for six months before stopping. I went through life an empty shell of a person because you fucking left!”

Jason’s eyes filled with an almost unbearable sadness, the weight of your suffering crashing down on him like a tidal wave. He wanted to hold you, to make everything better, but he knew he couldn’t do that, not right now. 

“I didn’t fucking leave you, Y/n! I died!”, he yelled, the thunder and lightning echoing his emotion, cracking through the sky at the exact same time. “I fucking died. That son of a bitch killed me, and even before I knew I was going to die all I could fucking think about was you. How you were going to be alone, how I couldn’t keep any of the promises I made you. I couldn’t remember anything when I came back from the Pit, but I met you again and I remembered everything. It was like I was finally breathing again after walking through Gotham not knowing how I was alive. Meeting you that night on the roof, it brought life into me again.”

You couldn’t help the pain in your chest anymore, the knife twisted further and further with every word that poured out of him. It felt like your heart stopped working, feeling the strain as you choked out sobs and your legs gave out from under you, Red running over to catch you as you both fell to the floor together. He felt your body shaking violently, each tremor a painful reminder of the torment you’d endured. His hands tightened gently on your arms, a protectiveness flooding him, as if he could somehow hold your shattered pieces together by sheer will alone. Your hands clawed at his jacket as you buried your face into his chest while all he could do was listen to your broken sobs. His heart ached with every sob that wracked your body, feeling like a physical blow each time you gasped or cried out. You shook with an intensity of insurmountable grief, your cries filling his ears as he felt the sting in his chest grow even more. He didn’t want you to find out like this. 

You clung to him, your hands not leaving his jacket as if he was the only anchor you had in a sea of pain.

“Red…”,you whimpered, your voice barely audible through your cries.

“Jason.”, he breathed, his heart aching as he noticed the shift. He noticed you had stopped calling him by name. It was a subtle yet painful indication of the distance between you two. He didn’t want any more distance. He wanted you closer to him than ever before. 

“Jason”, you breathed as he felt a new wave of life be brought into him again. He could feel a surge of hope inside him. He wanted to bridge the gap between the two of you and leave it closed forever.

“Jason..”, your voice broke completely as you repeated his name, the trembling of your bottom lip made him weak. 

“Anything you want to know, I’ll give it all to you”, he murmured, pulling you gently closer. His breath mingled with yours, each exhale filled with the weight of his regrets, desperate to make things right.

“Kiss me..”, you begged, your tears still falling down your cheeks as he pulled you into him, his hand tangling in your hair while the other wrapped around your waist pulling you flush against him. 

He responded immediately, pulling you into a desperate embrace. His mouth meshed with yours like he was a starved man, craving you, desperate to feel every bit of you. He’d waited six years, six years hoping to see you again. Every kiss was a silent apology, a testament to the years he’d spent away from you, he’d waited for so long, hoping for the day he’d be with you again. Was the universe cruel to put you in his path while he tried taking down Gotham’s Crime Lords or did it do him the favor so he could get you out of the life like you’d always wanted?

He couldn’t bring himself to care for the reason or the past, all that mattered was the moment, and in that moment, he wanted you. Needed you. How did you manage to bring the Red Hood, the most hardened part of him, to his knees for you? He was caught in the grip of emotions he had fought so hard to suppress. You had a hold on him he couldn’t, didn’t want to deny,

Your hands gripped his chest, clutching at his jacket as you pressed closer, your mouths moving together with an urgent need. You could feel his desperation, in every touch, every kiss, his on you so tight it felt like he was afraid to let go. He couldn’t, wouldn’t, let you slip away again.

You let him consume you in every way, not caring right then about anything except him holding you and kissing you like you were his lifeline. The anger and the pain that should’ve been there were completely swallowed up by the overwhelming need for his presence. You should be angry at him, screaming at him for keeping this from you but deep down that young version of you just wanted to be held by him. You didn’t care about anything except this right now. After all those years, feeling the gaping hole in your chest in his absence, you felt whole again. 

I didn’t leave you… I died.

For some reason, that truth absolutely wrecked you, completely shattering the last remnants of your defenses. It was the answer to the gaping void that had haunted you for years. It had the answers you needed all these years, it was a revelation. 

He didn’t leave you out of choice: he had been forced by a madman’s cruelty.

God, the pieces of your broken heart felt jagged and heavy. You tried to understand, wanted to let that hurt and anger disappear but deep down you resented yourself for holding such hate towards him when he would’ve come back had he lived Joker’s torture. 

Jason’s desire for you was evident in every movement, in the way he held you close, in the intensity of his kisses, in the way his breath mingled with yours. He was proving just how deeply he needed you now. His touch was frantic, as if he were trying to make up for all the lost time, his hands threading through your hair, his body pressed against yours like two lost souls finally finding their way back to each other. 

When he finally pulled away, you clung to his jacket, a desperate fear gripping you that if you let go, he might disappear again. His forehead rested against yours, his eyes looking deep into yours as his swollen lips remained parted, his eyes holding a depth that spoke of regret and longing. 

In that moment, as the storm raged around you, you found a strange solace in his embrace. It wasn’t just about the past or the pain—it was about the raw, undeniable connection that still burned brightly between you. And for now, that was enough.

“God, I’ve missed you.”, his voice raw with emotion. “I told you I’d come back..”

“You’re six years late.” you laughed weakly, looking down in sadness, unable to hold his gaze. He gently lifted your chin with his fingers, making you meet his eyes. 

“And I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”, he promised as his eyes softened before placing a kiss on your forehead. It was soft, gentle, it was what you needed right then. “Let’s go back to your place. We’ll get sick if we stay out here.

“Let’s go back to your place,” he suggested quietly. “We’ll get sick if we stay out here.”

You nodded as he helped you to your feet, his touch both reassuring and warm despite the chill of the rain. The streetlights cast a dim glow around you, their reflections shimmering in the puddles at your feet. The world felt strangely quiet after the storm of emotions that had just swept through you, leaving you both with a profound sense of relief and renewed connection.

Jason guided you through the rain, his arm draped around you protectively as you walked toward your place. The city streets, usually so chaotic, seemed to fade into the background as you focused on the comforting presence beside you. The rain made everything feel more intimate, as if it was just the two of you left in the world.

When you reached your apartment, Jason took a moment to look at you, his expression a mixture of tenderness and something like awe. “It’s been so long,” he said softly, his gaze lingering on your face as if he wanted to memorize every detail.

You unlocked the door and stepped inside, shaking off the rain as best you could from your drenched clothing. Jason followed, closing the door behind him and leaning against it for a moment as if gathering his thoughts. The warmth of the apartment was a stark contrast to the cold, wet night, and it felt like a cocoon where you could begin to heal.

He took your coat and threw it into the basket where you kept dirty clothes after missions, then turned back to you with a small, hopeful smile. “What do you need? Hot drink, dry clothes?”

You looked around, taking in the familiar comfort of your home, and then met his eyes again. “Just you, Jason. That’s all I need right now.”

He nodded, understanding completely. “Let’s get you warm and comfortable. We’ll talk more in the morning, okay?”

You nodded, following him into the bedroom to help get changed out of the soaking wet clothes you had on. You peeled them off your body before placing them into the shower to wring out after you’d changed. You pulled on some sweats, and a sweater before drying your hair off and pulling it into a bun to wash the next morning. You were far too tired and emotionally exhausted to even think about a shower right now. You found a pair of shorts and an oversized tee you kept that were a couple sizes too big, grabbing them before walking back into the kitchen, Jason staring out the window before turning to meet your gaze. 

“I have some oversized clothes you could wear. They might be a bit tight but I think they’ll fit you.”, you handed him the small stack of clothes, your fingers brushing his as he grabbed it and walked to the restroom to change.

You waited patiently on the bed, hearing the spatter of water in the shower before hearing the washer open up in the closet. He was doing laundry. 

After a couple minutes, he walked out, the shorts fitting him perfectly and the shirt a little tight on him but you didn’t mind and it seemed that neither did he. You watched as he walked over to the bed, sitting down as you stared at him with gentle eyes. 

He smiled at you before motioning towards him, your body moving across the bed next to him as he pulled you close, his arm wrapped around you as you leaned into his embrace. The night was still, the storm outside now just a distant memory. You felt safe and cherished in his arms, and for the first time in a long while, you allowed yourself to fully relax.

“I missed you.”, he breathed you in, your scent bringing him to a calm default as he pulled you into his body and laid down onto the bed, pulling the covers over the both of you. 

“I missed you too,” you whispered, your voice trembling with the weight of everything you had been through. “I just didn’t know how much until now.”, your head laid on his chest, your arms wrapped around him as you listened to his heartbeat. 

Jason kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering there. “I’m here now, I’m not going anywhere. We’ll make up for lost time. I promise.”

As the night wore on, you both laid together in silence, the comfort of each other’s presence more powerful than any words could express. The rain continued to fall outside, but inside, you found solace in the embrace of the person you had always longed for.

The soft light from the early morning leaked through the curtains and into the room, casting pale shadows that dance around in the tranquility of the room. The softness of the sheets enveloping your bodies, the warmth radiating off of Jason adding to the security of the room. You both lay tangled in the sheet, his body wrapped around yours as he held you through the night in a protective grasp. The events of last night replayed in an endless loop, your body relaxing as you felt Jason behind you. His presence washed away the turmoil of the night before, only leaving room to reconcile and move forward.

Jason’s body shifted, turning around as his arms untangled from you, your body reacting to the loss of his warmth almost immediately as a fear got caught in your throat. You grabbed his arm, his body shaking awake as he watched the grip you had on him tighten. The fear of losing him again was a cold, gnawing presence and the anxiety clawed at your insides, making it hard to breathe.

You gripped onto his arm tightly, feeling him turn towards you. His body was weighed down, the evident exhaustion etched into every line of his face, but the moment he felt your hand grip at his arm, he turned towards you. His eyes were still heavy, but opened to meet yours with concern. 

“Don’t go.”, you whispered to him, your voice barely audible. Your heart pounded inside your chest as the words painfully tried to scrape their way up your throat. 

Jason’s eyes softened, reaching out as his hands enveloped you in a warm embrace. “I’m not leaving you.”, his voice raw with emotion. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The vulnerability he held in his eyes was a testament to his truth. The thought of him disappearing again, of reliving the pain, felt like a fresh wound being torn open. The softness in his eyes looking into yours as he leaned in and kissed you with a desperate tenderness. The kiss was filled with an urgency to make you feel safe and whole, the deepness conveying every emotion he held inside of him. 

When he pulled back, his lips hovered as his breath mingled with yours, a small smile playing at his lips. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Your breath hitched as you curled against him, his arms tightening as he placed a kiss on your forehead. “I felt so alone.”, you murmured against his chest. “I felt like a shell of a person, just going through the past six years on autopilot, holding onto hope that maybe you’d come back.”

“I’m sorry.”, he breathed, a hand running through your hair as he breathed you in. “I wish I could take it all back.”, his hand reached up and brushed your cheek, your eyes closing as you leaned into his warmth. “I’m here now, and I promise, I’m not going anywhere. I can’t change the past but.. I can be here for you now. I’ll do whatever it takes to make things between us right.”

You rested your head against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart, as you soaked in every one of his words. He held truth in his words, the rawness in his voice conveying his seriousness. His heart beat created a calming rhythm, making you fall back asleep as you stayed wrapped in his arms, the sound of his breathing pulling you deeper into your slumber. 

The soft hum of the afternoon moved through the apartment, the sun leaking through the curtains illuminating the room as the rays hit Jason’s face in a soft caress. His body stirred, his body shifting under the covers as he tightened his grip on you. His green eyes flickered open, his eyelids struggling to open due to the harshness of the sun. The two of you managed to fall back asleep after the early morning, the atmosphere still soft, vulnerable, fragile from last night's emotional storm. His eyes met your form, his arms flexing as he placed a kiss on the curve of your neck. 

Quietly, he slipped out of bed, careful to not disturb you. As he stood, he noticed the mess of the night before—scattered clothes, remnants of the storm outside, and the general disarray of a long, emotional night. He glanced at the clock and saw that it was well into the afternoon. The idea of starting the day with a small gesture of care for both of you seemed like a good way to begin mending what had been broken.

Jason dressed quickly, pulling on his jeans and t-shirt, taking out his hoodie from the dryer as he looked at your sleeping form before heading out for the morning. He wanted you to wake up to a gesture of his care for you, walking towards the front door, careful to not wake you. As he stepped out of the apartment, he felt the crisp morning air hit his face, the evidence of the storm still present in the dew that filled the morning air and the small puddles in the streets.

The afternoon light filtered through the curtains, casting a glow across the room and the warmth of the sun slowly easing you awake. You shifted in bed, reaching an arm out only to feel the space next to you empty, lifting your head and hearing noises coming in from the kitchen. The sounds were oddly comforting, almost as though it were a glimpse into domestic life with Jason. You slowly shifted out of bed, stretching your arms before walking to the door and moving into the kitchen. 

Your eyes softened at the sight of Jason in a pair of joggers and a fitted white tee, his muscular back facing you as you watched him move the pans around as he turned off one of the burners. The smell of bacon and eggs filled the room, your stomach slightly rumbling at the smell of the fresh food. There was a bag on the counter from the grocery store down the block. He’d really gone out to get food for the both of you. You let yourself soak him in a moment longer, your movements making him look up, his messy hair falling over his forehead as he gave you a lazy smile. 

You felt your heart skip a beat. How did he look so good this early in the day? 

“Good morning”, his voice warm and slightly raspy from sleep. 

“Good morning.”, you replied, returning his smile as you walked over to the dining room table, sitting down as you watched him finish cooking. 

Heplated up a generous portion of breakfast and set it down in front of you, the sight of the meal a small but meaningful gesture of his care. “I know it’s the afternoon, but it’s never too late for a good breakfast.”, he said as his hair fell over his eyes. 

“Thank you, Jason. This is.. It’s nice.”, you smiled at him as you lifted your fork and took a bite, savoring the taste of the food as it melted in your mouth. 

Jason plated his own food, walking over to the table and sitting across from you and digging into his breakfast. You both ate in comfortable silence, his eyes focused on you as he watched you enjoy your meal, happy that you finally got to try some of his cooking. 

You looked up at him, breaking the silence as you swallowed your food. “So, why have you been hiding?”

Jason looked up at you, setting his fork down and leaning back in his chair. “It’s a long story. But I guess the short version is, I had to lay low for a while. I had a reunion with Batman a few weeks ago.”

“A reunion?”

“Yeah. He… he found out I was alive a few weeks ago.”, he murmured. “I guess it’s been a lot on me so I just needed space I guess.”

You looked at him with a warm glance, your hand reaching out and taking his in yours. He met your eyes, a small smile playing at him lips as he leaned forward. “We can talk more about this later. Let’s just enjoy our morning, yeah?”

You smiled at him before nodding, the silence falling over you as you tried to keep conversation simple, trying to find whatever way you could to catch up with him on everything over the last six years. 

The conversation was gentle and full of understanding. You talked to him about getting out of school, saving your money to leave the city, opening up about the different places you wanted to visit. He watched you intently, each bite, each shared smile, was a step towards mending your relationship. It was a subtle reminder that despite the past, there was still a future worth fighting for. 

You both finished your breakfast, thanking him again before moving into the restroom and hopping into the shower as Jason cleaned up the kitchen. You turned on the shower and shed your body of your clothes before letting the water wash over you. The sensation alleviated all the built up stress in your body, helping clear your mind and ease your tiredness. You took your time, savoring the solitude and warmth of the water. 

After your shower, you emerged feeling more refreshed. You walked back into the living space, seeing Jason sitting on the couch as he looked over at you, a smile pulling at his lips. Your heart warmed at his smile, moving towards him as you sat down across from him, meeting his eyes in a grateful glance. 

Jason's smile widened as you took your seat across from him, and the warmth in his gaze mirrored the comfort you felt after your shower. He looked relaxed, and his presence seemed to make the room feel even cozier.

"Feeling better?" he asked, his tone soft.

You nodded, your smile reflecting the contentment you felt. "Definitely. That shower was exactly what I needed."

Jason chuckled lightly, leaning back on the couch. "I’m glad to hear it. Breakfast might have been simple, but I’m happy it did the trick."

You leaned forward slightly, your curiosity piqued. "So, what’s on the agenda today? Any plans or are we just going to enjoy a lazy day?"

“A day in might be the better option.”

Jason's smile grew. “A lazy day it is, then,” he said, his eyes lighting up with enthusiasm. “We can just take it easy and enjoy each other's company.”

You nodded in agreement, feeling a sense of relief at the idea of a relaxing day with him. "Sounds good. Maybe we can just watch a movie, catch up. Honestly, whatever we feel like doing is fine with me."

Jason leaned forward, his eyes brightened. "How about we start with a movie and see where the day takes us? I’ve got a few movies in mind that I think you’ll enjoy."

You grinned, your heart warmed by his thoughtfulness. “I’d love that. Any particular ones you’re thinking of?”

Jason pondered for a moment before responding. “I was thinking of some classics—maybe a comedy? We can make a list and decide together.”

You felt a sense of contentment as you settled into the couch next to Jason, the idea of a cozy day with good movies and even better company making you feel at ease. “That sounds great, Jay."

You smiled at him as he walked over to the tv stand and turned it on, settling into the couch next to you as the both of you soaked in each other's company. If there was anything you needed, it was this, right now with him. There was peace between the two of you as you watched him pick a movie, the sound coming from the tv as you rested into him, his arm wrapping around you in a comforting hold. 

This was all you needed right now. 

He was all you wanted. 

Late into the evening, the remnants of your food were scattered around the coffee table, the takeout containers spread out as the both of you ate in comfortable silence. You watched as Jason took another bite of his food, letting your mind calm after last night's events. He’d spent the entire night with you and again today. You were lucky enough that Sionis hadn’t called you into work, letting your time with Jason remain undisturbed. 

“So, Bruce Wayne is… Batman”, you repeated as he filled you in on his life as Robin with Batman. “That.. that just seems so weird to me.”

“Believe it sweetheart.”, he said as he took a drink from the glass on the table. “I thought it was a little strange too, but he wasn’t too bad as a mentor and a guardian.”

“When you said at the Gala that he didn’t know you were back in Gotham.. What did you mean?”, you took another bite from your food as he leaned back on his arms. 

“I was out of Gotham after I got resurrected, just gaining strength, training, that type of thing. He didn’t know I was back because he didn’t know I was alive until a few weeks ago.”

“So, is that why are you two fighting each other right now?”

“Yeah, kinda.”, he shrugged. “He doesn’t think my plan to kill Joker is.. good for my humanity.”

“Good for your humanity?”

“He thinks I’ll slip too far past the point of return.”, he finally answered. “He’s been trying to reason with me this entire time.”

“I don’t think that would happen.”, you answer honestly. You had your own distaste for Sionis. If you had a direct hit at him, you know you would take it regardless of the consequences. Maybe this was the same for Jason. “I think you’d be able to pull back before… before it was too late.”

“Yeah.. he doesn’t seem to feel the same.”, you reached over, taking his hand that laid on the table in yours, your eyes softening. You understood why Jason would want to make the hit towards the man who tormented him, another part of you seeing why Bruce Wayne didn’t want to see his protege lose himself to someone like Joker. Jason deserved his closure. 

“Speaking of Joker, there’s something I need to talk to you about.”, he continued.

You furrowed your brows, a curiosity piqued. “What is it?”

You watched as his shoulders slumped, taking in a deep breath, clearly weighing his words. “It’s about my plan to get rid of him.”

“What exactly are you planning?”, you murmured. 

“I’m setting a trap. He already has Black Mask giving him what he wants in order to get my attention, which is exactly what I was aiming for when I started making raids on his jobs. I knew Black Mask would pay Joker’s bond and put the bounty out for me. Once Joker gets into his own plan, I’ll be able to lure him into the middle of central Gotham and take him from there.”

“Do you think Joker will do what you’re expecting?”, you asked softly, Jason’s eyes narrowing as the question lingered and he processed his answer. 

“Joker is erratic and unpredictable, but no doubt he’ll eventually get tired of Black Mask and either try and kill him or go completely off the charts and go rogue. Either way, I only have one shot to lure him in the right direction.”

“And then… what?”

“I kill him.”, he answered with finality, his eyes filled with an intensity that held power. “I kill him and remove him from Gotham forever. He won’t be able to hurt or torment anyone anymore.”

You nodded at him, trying to sit with the answers he had just given you. You recall Joker talking about setting up a bank robbery to lure in Batman, though from what Jason told you, he already predicted Joker would set up some sort of diversion to bring either him or Batman out in order to pull off his plan. The depth and complexity of the situation adding more layers to the grand scheme of everything, 

You played with your food, using the fork to move around the food inside the takeout container as the silence came over both of you. The quiet hum of the city outside added to the ambiance, letting the room fill with a quiet and calming aura that left you both sitting comfortably. 

“There is something else.”, Jason finally broke the silence as he looked up at you. “It’s about Black Mask”

You looked up at him, sensing the seriousness in his tone. “What about him?”

“I need you to stay out of the way.”, he said with concern. In any other context you would take it as him being demanding, controlling, overbearing, but in this sense, he needed you to understand why he wanted you to be as removed from the situation as possible. “Black Mask suspects a mole leaking information, especially since all of this is just so he can get rid of me. You’re at risk if you get caught in the middle of any of this. You need to be as detached from this as possible, even if it means making up an excuse to not be there the night all of this will go down.”

“So, what do I do? Just sit around and do nothing?”, your brows furrowed at his thinking. “How would I even escape suspicion if Sionis has suspected me for weeks.”

“I’ll plant a false lead that turns his attention to another person within his private security. Something that makes it look like you aren’t and have never been involved with me in any way. It won’t be easy, but it’ll take Black Mask’s eyes off of you and his suspicion onto someone else.”

You felt a knot tighten in your stomach. “How would you even pull that off? Sionis knows his private security better than anyone. He hires them because of their loyalty to him, puts them through training and torture resistence just so they can be up to par. You don’t think he’ll believe that there’s a mole in his team.”

“Lucky for you, I’ve been leaking information for a while.”, he smirked at you, your eyes widened as he watched you from across the coffee table. “Ever since he sent that tracker on you, I’ve been selling information into his private security, watching and leaking the bait wherever it’s needed and this gives me all the more reason to finally cash in that card so that it’ll push him in a different direction.”

“How do you know it won’t backfire? What if things get worse if it doesn’t work?”

“I know it’s a risk”, he reached over the table and grabbed your hand in his. “But it’s the only option we have to get you out of the crossfire. You stay out of the equation, he doesn’t suspect you, you don’t get hurt.”

His eyes hardened with his resolve as his delicate green eyes met yours. He had the most perfect color to his eyes, deep and captivating. You wondered how you ever went so long never seeing them without a mask or glasses, even back when he was Robin. You were certain if you had seen them back then you would have swooned over him easily. They were your favorite part of him, his features were beautiful all together, but his eyes were just the best thing. 

“I’ll be careful.”, he reassured you. “I won’t take unnecessary risks. All you need to do is find a way to get out of their plan that night, and keep a low profile until everything is over.”

You slowly nodded at him, a part of you wanting to fight his ask of you, but another part knowing that adding Joker, Black Mask, and Batman along with Jason into a mixing pot would create chaos even you didn’t think you were ready to witness. The gravity of the situation far worse than you expected given how complex Joker wanted to make everything and how secure Jason made sure every possible route of action was.

You replayed Jason’s words in your head, the gravity of the situation slowly becoming a reality. Jason was methodical and focused, detailing all the steps he would take to create a convincing diversion. And yet, beneath his plan, you could see the concern for your safety that he had. His plan not only went after every possible route, but included your safety in the process. 

Lost in your trance, Jason looked at you, his jaw tensing before he spoke again. “I need you to understand something.”, he said softly. “This whole.. Plan. It isn’t just about getting rid of Joker or dealing with Sionis. It’s about making sure you’re safe.”

“I know, Jay.”, you murmured in a soft tone.

Jason moved over to your side of the table, reaching out and cupping your face in his hands as his eyes searched yours for a mutual understanding. “When this is over, I’ll get you out of this.”, he breathed, “I’ll get you out of this life.”

You felt a tug in your chest at his words, the rawness of them showing you he meant what he said. His thumb stroked your cheek as he pulled you into a kiss, his hands still cupping your face as you melted into him. You felt the warmth flood your body and your heart rate accelerate at his words. 

He would get you out of this life. 

Just like you always wanted.

The kiss was tender, raw, intense, full of emotion, everything just being poured into this moment of understanding. Jason felt the pressure in his chest grow, his promise to you unwavering. He felt the connection between you both, an unspoken understanding that this wasn’t just about escaping a dangerous life—it was about finding a way to live freely, together. All he’d ever wanted since he met you was you. And now that he was here, holding you, kissing you, feeling you all over again, he’d make sure he’d keep you forever. 

He needed to make up for six years of lost time. 

He wanted you more than anything else. 

The evening settled around you, the city lights filtering through the curtains and casting a gentle glow across the room. You spent the past few hours talking with Jason, making up for lost time in whatever way you could. You shared the past few years with him, leaving out the obvious hurt from his absence, but still shared the small upsides to your life. As the night went on, the quiet fell over you in a tranquil way. 

You both moved around the apartment, slowly picking up and cleaning before settling in for the night, your eyes meeting his form as he washed the dishes. You contemplated your words, letting the silence linger before speaking up. 

“Jason..”, you said softly, the shake in your voice evident as he turned towards you. “Will… will you stay the night?”

His gaze softened, drying off his hands before grabbing your hand, leaning against the counter as he wrapped you in a secure embrace. Your ear felt his heart rate pick up, his arms wrapped around you with a tenderness that spoke volumes, the protectiveness melting into your skin at his touch. 

“I’ll stay as long as you need me.”, he whispered into your hair. “I’m not going anywhere. Not tonight. Not ever.”, he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. 

“Thank you”, you whispered, hugging him a moment longer before pulling away. He gave you a reassuring smile, his fingers brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. 

“Let’s get ready for bed.”, he said softly, “It’s been a long day.”

You smiled at him as the both of you walked into the bathroom. He’d brought over some of his clothes when he’d gone out in the morning. He quickly discarded his shirt, placing it into the hamper as he pulled his fresh one over his head and changed from his joggers into pajama bottoms. You stayed in front of the mirror as you brushed your hair, detangling it before brushing your teeth, as you waited for him to finish. 

You had changed into a cami and shorts, letting the cool air of the apartment hit your skin as the peace began to settle over you. The day’s emotions had finally settled and fading into a quiet, soothing calm presence. The sound of Jason approaching from behind you barely registered over the sound of the running water from the sink. You reached for the small hand towel, cleaning your mouth of residue as you felt Jason come up behind you. His hands gently settled on your waist, his touch warm and making you melt into him. 

He leaned in, pressing a tender kiss on the curve of your neck. The sensation of his lips against your skin sent a shiver down your spine, the warmth of his breath making your skin get goosebumps. “If this is what I get to see every night.”, he whispered, his voice husky and full of affection. “I’ll never leave.”

You leaned into his chest, his arms wrapping completely around you as he placed another gentle kiss on your shoulder. You closed your eyes for a moment, savoring the intimacy of the moment, letting yourself get a glimpse of what a normal life with Jason would be like had it not been for the life you both lived. Would every night be like this? Your heart skipped at the thought, wishing it could be a reality for you. 

You turned your head, looking at him as your eyes filled with admiration. “I missed you.”, you whispered, your voice barely audible as you nestled closer to him.

Jason’s expression softened, a smile softly forming on his lips. “I missed you too.”, his voice filled with tenderness. “More than you’ll ever know.”

He pressed another gentle kiss on your lips, pouring every emotion he couldn’t fully express in words into the kiss. It was slow and meaningful, your lips moved against his in a delicate way as he breathed you in.

As you both pulled away, he smiled at you. “C’mon, let’s go to bed.”

You nodded, your heart swelling with a mixture of gratitude and admiration. You both made your way to the bed, moving the sheets before climbing into bed with him, a sense of contentment settling over you. He climbed into the bed, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight. He made room for you, his gaze never leaving you as you settled beside him. 

Jason laid in your bed, the sheets tangled around his body as he felt you shift next to him, your warmth a soothing presence against his side. He watched you as he felt your breaths slowly evened out. His mind, though physically exhausted, was restless. Thoughts of the past, the pain of the years apart, and the emotions of the past two days all swirled together, keeping him awake as he recounted every conversation. 

You laying next to him brought him comfort, letting him feel a sense of normalcy, almost like he could imagine your entire lives together had you not been brought into your current lives in the underground. 

He tried to push away the worry that lingered deep in his gut, the fear that Joker might somehow get to you despite his ask to stay as disconnected as possible. He wanted you to be safe, needed you out of harm's way as much as possible. As he gazed up at the ceiling, the room was dimly lit by the soft flow of the streetlights filtering through the curtains. The light added to the ambiance of the room, creating a soft and calming atmosphere as the sound of your breathing slowly lured him into sleep.

His eyelids grew heavy, each blink growing slower until he couldn’t keep them open. He took in one last deep breath, savoring the scent of your perfume and the warmth of your body pressed against his. The reality of being able to hold you again brought an overwhelming sensation in him. After years of yearning, longing for the day he’d hold you again, he let himself drift and surrender to his exhaustion, the deep sense of peace enveloping him.

Jason’s breath gradually evened out as his mind slowly quieted, his thoughts of the coming week fading into the background as he allowed himself to fully embrace the sanctuary of your presence. The weight of his burdens–Joker’s plan, Black Mask’s hit on him, Bruce’s endless words holding him back–it all fell from his thoughts and into the abyss of nothing as he let himself soak in the tranquility.

In the quiet of the moment, with the weight of the world set aside, he found solace in your presence, allowing the sleep to gently pull him under as he laid next to you. For now, he’d allow himself a moment of peace, letting go of the tension as he let the sleep claim him as he held you close.

A/N

Here is Chapter 9! I love writing angsty scenes, they're my absolute favorite. I think this chapter is really just one of my favorites I have written so far. Domestic life suits Jason in my opinion, he would be a great partner honestly.

I really hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! Please keep leaving me all your thoughts and comments as I really enjoy reading them!

Also, I love all the love I have been getting on my Sukuna x Reader story! Thank you all to those of you who have read it (if you're in the JJK fandom). It truly does mean a lot!

Also, as this fanfic is coming to an end (I don't know when exactly it will end but I am still going to leave notice), I will be traveling during the first two weeks of September so I will post any updates on if I will be posting during that time! I will be on vacation from school so I would love to take the time to just be with my family and relax. Again I am not sure if I will still post, but if I do not I will make a formal post saying so!

Thank you for understanding and see you all next week!

xx.

[panic-in-the-multiverse]

Everybody Dies

Pairings: Rick Grimes x teen!reader, Daryl Dixon x teen!reader, Carl Grimes x teen!reader, Michonne Hawthorne x teen!reader, Aaron x teen!reader, Negan x teen!reader, Rosita Espinosa x teen!reader, Eugene Porter x teen!reader, Sasha Williams x teen!reader (all of them are platonic)

Requested by: @leahsbasement may i request a teen or child g/n reader that’s really close to the twd group and during the lineup they’re one of the people chosen by negan to yknow- receive the glenn and abraham treatment💀 and like we get some reactions from the group from it🧎 i apologize if this sounds really morbid but i am dire need of some good angst and i love your writing sm it’s amazing <3

Warnings: reader death, angst, a tad bit of fluff (definitely not much), mention of character death, description of Negan doing what he did to Glenn and Abraham, blood, mention of a brutal way to die, idk what more I guess you have all seen twd so you know what might be in this. Not proofread

A/N as usual the gif is not mine, found it somewhere on the internet. This is not proofread, well half of it is.

Now I tried to do a reaction with all of the people at the line up so sorry with Sasha I guess bc I don’t like her so found it a bit hard to write her as a character that’s close to the reader, and once more thank you for the request, it gave me an excuse to write this

Anyway idk what I think of this, wrote it in the middle of the night because I couldn’t sleep, so anyway hope you like it.

Everybody dies a little when the brightest soul disappears.

A sea of red water mixed with the gravel and mud on the ground. The trail of blood — that had gone its own path from the puddle it was previously in, could be followed towards two bodies. One of a hunched man, who racked with sobs through his entire body. His hands grasped towards the body before him. Blood still oozed from the head. Or what someone would once have called a head, as it was now just remains of smashed bones and brain goo. The once familiar face was unrecognizable to anyone. No one would ever be able to pinpoint who the body belonged to, because the head atop of it was gone. It had been smashed into a puddle of goo. No one would ever be able to see your smiling face, or the mischievous smirk that pulled at your lips whenever you wanted to rebel a bit. Nor would they ever see the sparkles in your eyes whenever you talked about the things you liked.

No one of the group surrounding the three bodies wanted to acknowledge what had happened. How could they. They’d all just seen three of their family members die, because of their actions. Because of them. The teenager in which the hunched man had taken a tight grip of their hands had warned them about the attack. That nothing good would come out of it, that it wasn’t who they were. Rick had been wrong like everyone else to ignore the teenager’s warnings. In the end it was what cost them your life. Their choice of actions had been the beginning of your end.

Rick couldn’t let the image out of his head, he couldn’t even look at your body as he held you tightly. His eyes stared into the distance at nothing in particular as his mind tried to register what had happened just a few hours ago. His cries had stopped only for his eyes to glaze over once more with tears. He couldn’t help but to think that it was all his fault. He had the final vote on what to do, and his vote caused your death. It caused Negan to seek them out. To line them up. To smash your head with his goddamn wired baseball bat. His goddamn Lucille. He swore to kill Negan if it was the last thing he did, whether you would want him to or not, he needed to. Rick wanted nothing more than revenge. Nothing more than justice and revenge brought to you, Glenn and Abraham.

Not soon after Rick had stopped crying his son had walked over to you and him. His eye was bloodshot by the tears that rolled down his red cheek. And his hand went up to rub his eye off the tears as he tried to control himself, as he sat beside his father. Same as everyone else at the brutal scene he couldn’t let go of the events. How everyone got a look of dread and fear on their face as Negan announced that he’d had to kill two more because of Daryl’s little outburst. Carl had glanced at his father to see that for once under this meeting he held actual fear in his eyes when Negan’s bat had landed in front of you. It was deadly quiet as all of the group watched you stare dead into the eyes of Negan who looked at you with a scary face, gleaming with excitement as he noticed everyone’s reaction.

Negan had watched with glee as everyone went into submission after Lucille had stopped in front of you. He’d felt kinda sorry for you. He didn’t usually kill teenagers but something about you annoyed him so greatly. Maybe it was the way you didn’t look with fear into his eyes, how you held your own, even with the knowledge that you would soon be dead. He didn’t know what it was but he had decided to kill you, well he decided in a way.

Maggie who had lost her husband and father to her child, stared with emptiness at you. She didn’t know if she’d be able to take it if you died as well. She had tried to fight the man holding her down, but to no vain. Her already bloodshot eyes had filled with tears and sobbed had shook through her body as soon as she saw Negan start to swing his bat. She didn’t want to lose you, she couldn’t. But her silent prayer came to no good end.

Rosita was no better than Maggie. Since the first time you met when you and Glenn together with Tara searched for Maggie the two of you had gotten close and she as everyone else got flashes of your lives together. Of all your good and bad memories of everything you had survived. How you’d found an apple tree that hadn’t been destroyed at a random location in the forest and thrown apples at your companions heads as they hadn’t stopped when you told them to. Or how you’d draw drawings with the kids in Alexandria or help hunting and scavenging for food. Getting stuck in a building while a herd of walkers walked past. The blood and the gore of every kill. All of them comforting you while you cried yourself to sleep, all the cuddles you forced them into, especially Rick and Daryl. How you forced them to take a break so that they wouldn’t overwork themselves while doing the exact same thing. Needing help from others to make sure you actually took care of yourself and not just everyone else. It just made them all get to the brink of breaking even quicker as they thought of all your moments together. Not only did memories flash inside your head, nor only Rosita’s they flashed through everyone. You had always looked out for them and what had they given you in return, nothing but death.

Sasha wasn’t especially close to you but the previous death of Abraham and Glenn and now you had her at her breaking point. She might not have known you well but you were a good kid, you helped and knew how to survive. You didn’t take unnecessary risks and you’d helped her through her losses. So she tried nothing more than to break herself away from reality as she heard the bat make contact with your head. It reminded her too much of the other two kills and she couldn’t look through another one, not again.

Eugene only stared at the distance as sobs racked through his body not being able to watch you die. He couldn’t even bring his eyes to look at you afterwards, he’d never be able to erase the short scream of pain that had left your lips. He was at a loss of words and he wouldn’t be able to really function in a few days, much like everyone else. He was scared shitless and he didn’t know for anything in the world what to do or say in the hours that came after.

Negan had looked at everyone, gauging even the slightest reaction out of them. Michonne had watched helplessly at you, she’d tried not to flinch everytime the bat hit you among a sound she’d never wished she ever heard ever in her life. The only thing on her mind was how she taught you how to sword fight or when you hunted a deer together and accidentally fell into a puddle of mudd getting every inch of you covered in it.

Arron, who had been right beside you, wanted to crawl away as your blood splashed onto the right side of him. He remembered all the times you’d gone over to him and Eric to eat pasta not wanting to socialize with the rest of Alexandria. You’d always go to him or Daryl.

Arron felt sick as he felt your warm blood on his cold cheek, and he felt even more sick as he made a glance at Daryl who didn’t do anything else but staring with regret and anger at your body who now laid lifeless on the ground. When Aaron dared a glance at you his throat became thick and a sob threatened to come out but he didn’t make a sound instead he stared at you before he looked with fear, numbness, anger and defeat at Negan.

But it wasn’t until Negan had looked at Rick Carl and Daryl did he notice that he sure as hell picked the wrong one to kill, deep inside, he knew that he’d just started a war. A war that wouldn’t take too long to brew over to the real fight. However he was filled with glee over getting a few peaceful weeks at reveling in his power and control over Alexandria. Maybe that would make the war something never to come, how wrong he had been on that thought.

Daryl felt nothing but guilt as he looked at you and it was all he thought of when he got loaded into the car and the Saviours drove away with him. He regretted having lashed out. Regretted ever getting angry. Daryl knew more than anyone that he’d miss you when you were gone. Like Beth, he’d miss you, even more so than Beth.

Carl had held a strong front, but on the inside he was breaking he lost his best friend and the only kid that had been with him since the beginning of the disaster they now lived in.

Now in the present Carl placed his hand on Rick’s shoulder as everyone surrounded your body (except for Maggie, Sasha, Rosita and Eugene). The two Grimes hugged each other as Carl dug his head into Rick’s chest. The older Grimes, having stopped his crying once more, tried his best to comfort his son while he himself was still breaking.

Rick, like Carl and Daryl, had held a shield with spikes as defense against Negan, as they had all starred with the same thought of killing Negan running through their heads. They had let a numb shield cover them while their enemies still surrounded them. They hadn’t let go of the shield until their enemies were gone. (Or in Daryl’s case until he was alone in the cell he was placed in at the sanctuary).

That day, the day you died, was the day everyone in Alexandria died a little with you. You were the brightest soul in most of their lives and to lose you was one of the worst things to ever happen to any of them.

[ace-of-zaun]

It’s Because:

Silco x gn!reader - 1k words - SFW

cw: fluff, angst, pining, denial of feelings, falling in love, brief mentions of death, injury, and trauma, happy ending

summary: Silco is not in love. At least, that’s what he tells himself. 

a/n: i’ve never written anything like this before, i hope it works!! (it really hurt to type as well but my physio told me i had to.) inspired by the song i’m not in love by 10cc

Silco is not in love.

Unequivocally, categorically not in love. 

He doesn’t even know what love is when he meets you as a jaded, starving teenager, too busy trying to make ends meet to even think about something as trivial as love. But he does know that the easy way you smile when you meet his eyes makes his day just that little bit brighter. 

He’s not in love when he spots you a few years later, standing quietly amongst the meagre crowd in the bar, listening to his rallying speech of change and independence. Although, the spark in your eyes as you watch him is like a match to the burning in his chest, and for once in his life, it makes him feel alive. 

Silco isn’t in love when he accompanies you on mission after mission, learning to trust one another as he watches your back and you watch his in return, securing resources, and medicine, and meals for the starving children of his city. It’s just the adrenaline from the sprint back home, as you both narrowly escape the Enforcer’s clutches, that sets his heart racing to the dozen.

He can’t be in love when he watches you from across the bar, laughing, and singing, and dancing along to the jukebox, unaware of how effortlessly you light up the room. And so what if deep down he wants to join you and bathe in that light, soaking you in until you're his? It’s not like it means anything anyway. 

There’s no such thing as love on his birthday when he refuses to tell anyone the significance of the day, instead scowling down at yet another shipping manifest. Except, when you hand him a cupcake and kiss his cheek as you walk through the bar on your way to the market, he hopes the red of his ears and the longing expression isn’t too noticeable. 

Love isn’t present on the night you cry in his arms, heaving sobs that wrack your body as you mourn those lost in the fight, yet more casualties in this never ending fight for freedom. It’s simply the right thing to do when he lulls you to sleep, shushing your cries until your breathing slowly evens and your heart beats sync up with his. 

Silco tells himself he isn’t in love when you sit side by side, legs dangling off the little bridge that crosses the river as he gifts you a starburst necklace that once was his mother’s. And it certainly doesn’t mean anything when you gaze up at him with the softest smile, intertwining your fingers with his while you gently rest your head on his shoulder. 

He is not in love the day you stand with him in the little alcove across the street from the bar, sheltering from the rain that drips down to form galaxies of puddles along the square floor. You’re up on your tip-toes, his arm is around your waist, and when your nose bumps against his, his heart beats so loud he’s sure you can hear it-

But then his brother is suddenly there, pulling him away from you as he insists he goes for a walk with him, and Silco makes the worst decision of his life and agrees. 

In thunder and rain, Silco knows that love ends in nothing but betrayal when he is forced to disappear, body pulsing with pain, mind in tatters. He’s hurting, and angry, and beyond scared. But weaved in between it all, he thinks of you and pictures the way you looked and felt beneath his fingertips, and thinks that maybe it’s not all bad. 

There’s no time to think of love when, years later, he finally gets his revenge and reclaims his bar, his home; a second chance at raising the city his people deserve. Though, it’s almost like serendipity when he happens to take a break from arranging his schedule to look through the window down into the square, and there you are, standing in the middle of the street silently watching his workers carry in new furniture. 

He isn’t in love when he runs down to you, nearly tripping down the stairs in his haste, pushing through the doors until you’re right there in front of him, the only place he truly feels safe. But when you don’t scream or slap him or curse him for leaving you, instead striding across the distance to throw your arms around him in a tight embrace, he forces himself to choke back his tears and allows yours to soak into his shoulder instead. 

Silco continues to remind himself that he’s not in love in the coming months, while you sit beside him day after day, helping him put his plans into motion, listening to every word, every worry, every whisper. Really, who can even tell that his heart skips a beat when he spots that you’re still wearing his mother’s necklace, still so mirandous even after all this time?

He’s not in love the evening you sit atop the bar, laughing as you retell a story from your youth, caught delightfully off-guard when he can’t help but surge forward, capturing your lips while his hands cup your heated cheeks. It’s just one of those things, he supposes, to finally feel content standing between your legs, your own lips pressed in a smile against his, in a way that kick starts his once dead heart. 

But now, nearly two decades after he’d first laid eyes on you as a naïve boy, he lays next to you in bed and watches you sleep peacefully, tangled in the sheets the same way you’ve weaved yourself into his heart. And in the quiet lull of the night, he runs his fingers over a shiny, jewelled ring, custom-forged to match his mother’s necklace that still rests around your neck. 

He thinks of easy mornings and four-word questions, and for the first time in his life, allows himself to simply feel. 

Maybe, just maybe, Silco is in love. 

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Touch-Starved - Sirius Black X Female (Wife) Reader

Title: Touch-Starved

Sirius Black X Female (Wife) Reader

Additional Characters: Harry, Remus (Mentioned), James (Mentioned), and Lily (Mentioned)

Requested by: Anon!

WC: 3,285

Warnings: Nightmares, death mentioned, crying, very brief yelling, italics, Pre-Battle of Hogwarts, wife Reader, touch-starved Sirius Black, nicknames, banter, teasing, flirting, Azkaban mentioned briefly, Reader mentioned in a dress once (very brief), alcohol mentioned, spiking pumpkin juice mentioned very briefly, sort of sad, bittersweet, slight angst, and bunches of fluff

It was dark, except for the spotlight on your figure. The tears in your eyes ran down your already wet cheeks like waterfalls, dripping from your chin, falling down, down into the never-ending abyss where you stood, and in which was surrounding you. He tried to move, but his feet wouldn't listen; feeling as if they were stuck, cemented down to the ground that seemed to have no end. He opened his mouth to speak, to cry, but no words escaped, not even sound. His heart began to pound loudly behind his ribcage, hammering against him as if it were trying to escape, the thumping in his ears beginning to ring as he tried again to speak, but still nothing.

It was too hot. The air around him was thick and suffocating, seeming as if it was choking him slowly, the feeling of no air making him gasp and sputter. It was a slow, agonizing death, and he was forced to endure it. The silence was deafening, the only sound was that of your quiet cries and his heavy breathing.

He tried to scream, call out to you, but still; nothing. His eyes flickered over himself before looking over at you, and in a matter of moments, your cries grew louder as you cried hysterically, dropping onto your knees, your hands pressed firmly against your face. Your sobs rang out, echoing throughout the darkness.

From the corners of his eyes, long black, spindling fingers reached out from behind him. A multitude of whispers echoed around him menacingly; the words ‘murderer,’ and ‘monster,’ combined with your agonizing cries. He tried to move to run to you, but he was still unable to, watching in horror and absolute panic as the inky-black arms began to twist and swirl around him; like a snake, constricting its prey. They tighten before pulling him backward, his feet lifting miraculously, stumbling as he was dragged.

"Sirius!" You called out to him, your voice harrowing, searing into his mind as you dug your face deeping into your hands, hunching over, your tears pooling around you in a thick puddle of despair. “Don’t take him away from me!”

"Y/N!" He called out to you, finally finding his voice, but it was too late. The hands were dragging him deeper and deeper into the darkness. He tried to hold on, falling onto his stomach harshly, desperately clawing at the ground that seemed to be getting farther away. The only thing he could do was reach out for you, his hand outstretched and tears brimming the corners of his eyes as he stared at you in fear. You tried to reach back out to him, but it was useless, and before he knew it, slowly his vision began to darken around the corners, his sight becoming blurry, and you fading.

"No!" Sirius shot up from the bed, gasping for air. He looked around the room in a panic, finding himself in his bed in Grimmauld Place. He tried to catch his breath, taking in the scenery around him. The early morning sun shined through the window, the curtains swaying with the wind as it blew in. The room was quiet, the only sound was that of his heavy breathing. He quickly looked to his left, finding the space beside him empty.

Another wave of panic settled in the pit of his stomach as he kicked the covers off of him, sweat almost drenching his sleepwear as he shakily ran a hand through his messy, equally sweat-ridden hair. Moving to the side of the bed, Sirius made his way to stand, to search, and find you, but at your sudden appearance at the bedroom door, he stopped.

"Siri, I heard you yell for me." You spoke, your voice like a godsend, calming the man in question just enough for him to take in a deep breath. You stared at him, surveying him, eyes raking over his slouched figure, and panicked expression before you walked further into the room. "Another nightmare?" You then asked, taking a seat beside him, and turning your body towards him.

Opening his mouth, he almost expected to have a hard time finding his voice, but the words came out soft, "... Yeah..." He answered, voice rough, but audible. "Are you alright?" He then asked, his head turning slightly to look at you, his gaze gentle, tired, and yet worried nonetheless.

“I should be the one asking you that, honey,” You nodded your head nonetheless, bringing your hand up to tuck a strand of his hair behind his ear, your thumb gently brushing against his stubbly cheek as you cupped his face. "I'm fine, Sirius. Do you want to talk about it?" You answered, your smile small, but comforting.

Sirius sighed through his nose, taking your hand from his cheek to hold in his lap, "It was the same from Monday." He muttered, staring down at your hand, his fingers subconsciously fiddling with yours, thumb brushing against your engagement and wedding band.

"Same from Monday? The abyss one?" You asked carefully, shuffling impossibly closer to him, shoulder to shoulder.

"Yeah, but this time, uh, hands came out of nowhere, and were- were dragging me away." He added, swallowing thickly, as he licked his dry lips, "I couldn't reach you. You kept calling for me. You kept screaming for me... You wouldn't stop crying. I- I couldn't do anything." His brows furrowed, a frown settling upon his lips as his eyes brimmed with fresh tears, his breathing becoming heavy as he closed them, trying to push them back.

"Siri..." You whispered, "Sweetheart, it's alright." You turned his face towards you, "It wasn't real, okay? You're safe. I'm safe, and everything is alright." You tried to assure him, moving closer to press a gentle kiss to his cheek, "I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere. And neither are you. You know that me, Harry, Remus, and so many others would do anything to make sure that the Ministry doesn't come after you again. You know that I would do anything.”

"I know... I just- I can't lose you, Y/N." Sirius choked out, "I- I've lost so much already. I can’t lose you again."

"I know... I know... But I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere. It's alright..." You cooed, pulling him into your arms, and hugging him close. He held you back tightly, his hands gripping onto your shirt as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, a shaky breath leaving him.

~~~

The rest of the day was slow. After calming Sirius down, you brought him down to the kitchen; knowing that a good breakfast always helped Sirius after nightmare-filled nights. As you were sizzling some bacon on the stove, you felt two arms wrap themselves around your waist, a nose then pressing into the back of your head; nuzzling slightly in your hair. Sirius said nothing, and so did you, smiling lightly as you continued to cook the food, one hand coming to cover one of his around you. Sirius Black was a strong man, but he still had his fears, and he still had his weaknesses. You weren't a stranger to the nightmares, the night terrors, and the constant worry that he carried around with him. You were plagued with your own nightmares of the Ministry taking him away too.

Being in Azkaban for more than a decade, Sirius came back different. It was inevitable. Back when you both were in school, he was confident - almost arrogantly so - he used to fool around and pull pranks with James. But, all the more, he was brave, loyal, and protective of those whom he called his friends. He was still brave, loyal, and protective, but he was far more complex nowadays, and there was a lot more going on in his head that he didn't always let on. He was still very much Sirius Black - still very flirtatious when he wanted to be - but he had been changed by the experiences he faced in that prison.

You couldn't imagine the horror and the evil he had dealt with in that awful place. To be sentenced and looked at as if he was the villain, someone who had killed two of his best friends, but he wasn't. The thought of him rotting in that place, being tortured, and put through absolute hell made you sick. But, you were glad that he was safe now, and you will continue to make sure that he remained free and safe until the end of your days.

It was a rough journey at first, for both of you, but you gave him time and encouragement. You were always there for him. You will always love him. There was no doubt about that. He was your soulmate, your other half, and your best friend. And even though you could have never predicted that this was how your life would be, you wouldn't change it.

His arms tightened around you slightly, making you blink rapidly out of your thoughts. After escaping Azkaban, and finding you again, the one thing that you noticed so obviously from him was how touch-starved he had seemed. He was always hugging you, holding your hand, cuddling with you, or just simply touching you in some way; almost as if he was making sure you were real or even just because he hadn't seen you - held or touched you - in over a decade. It saddened you, knowing that he had been gone so long, away from you, unable to hold you. You also thought that you were touch-starved too, in a sense that holding him close gave you immense closure. Overall, you were not complaining in the slightest.

"It smells delicious." He mumbled against your hair, making you snort.

"It better, I'm a damn good chef." You teased, reaching out to turn off the stove and pull the pan from the heat. "Bacon, eggs, and toast. Your favorite."

"You're too good to me," Sirius muttered, dropping his face into the dip between your neck and shoulder, "What did I do to deserve you?" He then asked, and you shook your head, placing your hand on his arm. 

"You don't need to deserve me. You've always had me." You reassured him, "I will always be here. No matter what."

"Promise?"

"Promise." You answered, turning your head to press a gentle kiss to his temple, "Now, let's eat, yeah?" You suggested, earning a hum in response, but before you could slip out of his arms, Sirius turned you in his grasp, capturing your lips in a soft, lingering kiss. It lasted for a moment before he pulled away, a small smile on his lips.

"I love you," He whispered, and you blinked slowly, still reeling from the sudden kiss.

"Love you more, Siri." You replied, smiling back at him.

~~~

Later in the day, in the early afternoon, you and Sirius sat in the library; the classical music from the record player softly played in the background. Sirius was on the couch, while you were on the floor in front of him, reading a book quietly that you had been planning to read for the past month, but never had the time for. Sirius's hand was in your hair, gently massaging your scalp as he read the Daily Prophet with the other, his brows furrowed in concentration. You hummed, leaning into his touch, making him glance down at you briefly, his furrowed brows lifting as a small grin twitched at the corner of his lips before he went back to reading. It was nice and peaceful. It was quiet. No worries, no secret meetings. Just peace, comfort, and each other.

As the song came to an end, the next one began to play, your eyes quickly lifting from the words on the page to stare at the record player. A nostalgic smile appeared on your face, your head tilting slightly as you felt Sirius's hand still in your hair. "That's our song..." You muttered, chest warming as you immediately thought about a particular night long ago.

"Our song..." Sirius muttered, his hand slipping from your hair before you felt him move off the couch.

Looking up at him, you raised an eyebrow at the sight of his outstretched hand. "Sirius-"

"Dance with me, my love?" He asked, sounding more like a gentle command, but how could you refuse such an ask?

Unable to stop the giddiness that began to bubble up inside of you, you placed your hand in his, a wide smile growing on your face as you stood. "Gladly." You answered, giggling as he pulled you closer to him, his other hand coming to settle on your waist, while you placed yours on his shoulder. He swayed you both slowly to the music, and you smiled up at him, eyes crinkling as he returned the same look.

"I remember our first dance like it was yesterday." You then muttered, your mind flashing back to that moment. Biting your lip, you couldn't help but laugh at a specific memory that swirled in your mind, "It also reminds me of when you took me to the Yule Ball." You spoke, playful in your tone.

Gasping, Sirius spoke up, "Hey! I was an amazing dancer!"

"Siri, we ended up falling onto the ground." You reminded him, snorting when his face began to heat up.

"You stepped on my foot!" He insisted, letting go of your waist to spin you out, and back into his chest expertly.

"You pulled me too close and spun me so fast I lost my balance and tripped over the hem of my dress!" You giggled, rolling your eyes at the memory as Sirius huffed and rolled his eyes playfully. "Of course, I was going to step on your foot after. I was dizzy."

"We were drunk." He answered insistently as you raised an eyebrow, giving him a look.

"That too, but whose fault was that?"

Glancing away briefly, Sirius shrugged his shoulders, "You can't only blame me. It was James’s idea to spike the pumpkin juice too."

Humming, you slipped your hand out of his, unable to break your gaze away from his as you clasped your hands together behind his neck; subconsciously playing with his soft, dark curls. His own hands fell back to your waist, and you pressed yourself closer against him, leaning up slightly to press a soft kiss to his nose. "That's true," You muttered, "At least you learned how to properly dance before our wedding."

"I was an amazing dancer then too. I only messed up once." Sirius continued to joke, feigning a small pout as your eyes softened. At the small glimpse of Sirius's old self. A warm unknown feeling began to tingle across your skin; more nostalgia with a hint of something else. You missed seeing him like that, happy, confident, and just carefree; joking around. It made you happy to see him like that again. You knew he could never go back to how he was, and you would never want him to.

"I remember." You muttered, sucking in a breath, your eyes glancing down at his lips and back up, "Do you remember our kiss?"

Sirius's pout quickly slipped into a small frown, his gray eyes looking up at the ceiling as if he were in deep thought, but he remembered that kiss perfectly... It was something he couldn't forget, something that he thought of a lot back when he was trapped in his cell doing nothing; it kept him from going insane, the thought of you. "It's hard to forget," He muttered, and your heart began to pound against your ribcage, a flush beginning to creep up your neck, onto your cheeks, and the tips of your ears. "You were a vision," His deep, almost bittersweet-filled voice, and the way his eyes stared down into yours so intently made a shiver run down your spine; the world around you seemed to float away, just like at your wedding - so much so - that you didn't even notice that you both had stopped dancing. Sirius raised his hand, brushing a few stubborn strands of your hair from your face, tucking them behind your ear as his eyes flickered between yours. "So beautiful. Still are."

You felt like you couldn't breathe, your throat felt tight and your chest felt like it was filled with butterflies as you stared up at him. You hadn't felt like that since you first started dating him; that fluttering feeling of new love. Back when you both were still teenagers, not even out of Hogwarts yet. Sirius Black still knew how to make you feel like you were the most important person in the room, that you were the center of his universe. An almost bashful smile twitched at the corners of your lips, your eyes flickering down to his own, and back up.

"And I remember, we were standing just like this," He continued, his hand cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing across your bottom lip softly. "Your eyes, wide and bright, shining like the stars."

"Siri..." You whispered, but he continued.

"The music was loud, but I didn't care. The room was crowded, but we were all alone, the whole world had disappeared for us. It was just you and me. I wanted it to last forever..." He paused, swallowing thickly, his hand moving to gently wrap around the back of your neck, "I held you like this, and then I kissed you."

His head dipped, closing the gap between the two of you. Your eyes fluttered shut, your hands coming to grip his shirt, pulling him closer, and deepening the kiss. The kiss was slow, passionate, and sweet; it was everything that you both wanted and more. It was just like the kiss at the end of your first dance, and it almost felt as if you had been transported back to that night, wrapped up in each other's arms, surrounded by your loved ones; during a time when you didn't have a care in the world.

As Sirius pulled away, you chased after him, making him chuckle before he pulled you close once more. "Taking me down memory lane… You just wanted me to kiss you, didn't you, Mrs. Black?" He whispered.

"Maybe..." You answered, your voice breathless. "It worked though, didn’t it, Mr. Black?"

Sirius looked like he was going to say something else, but at the sound of footsteps and Harry's voice echoing through the halls, you both pulled away, but you stayed close together, hands finding one another. Sirius's thumb brushed against your knuckles as Harry entered the room, a large smile on his face.

"Hey, Sirius, Remus owled. He's coming for supper." The young man gestured back to the hall with his thumb as Sirius smiled brightly.

"Wonderful, my boy," Sirius exclaimed, patting your hand with his free one, "Did he say when he was getting here?"

"Six."

Sirius nodded, "Wonderful." He repeated, "We should prepare for his arrival, then." He responded, looking back down at you with a grin, "What do you think, my darling? Should we prepare a feast?"

You scoffed, "Of course, we should! It's been over a week since he was last here."

"Well, you heard the woman, let's get to it!" Sirius agreed, reluctantly letting go of you walking over to Harry, wrapping an arm around him, "You, Harry, can help me make the mashed potatoes."

"Mashed potatoes?" Harry asked as you joined them, walking together down the hall to the kitchen; Sirius’s hand finding yours once more.

You couldn't help but laugh a little, "It's the only thing Siri can prepare without burning down the house." 

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