#//so he turned to killing because he knew he could get away with it

[justagalwhowrites]

Can't Stay Away - A QZ!Joel Miller Fic

Years after you turned to Joel for help getting out of a bad relationship, he can't seem to stop coming back to you.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

CW: Angst (duh), Joel is a bit of an asshole (that's the point and it makes him even hotter, I fear), mention of past domestic violence (not described), injury from past domestic violence, threat of continued domestic violence. unprotected P in V sex, breeding kink, fantasizing about pregnancy (doesn't actually happen.) Minors DNI 18+ only, no use of Y/N.

Length: 4.1k

A/N: Shared for the Joel Miller Birthday Celebration found on Tumblr here. This is QZ!Joel with Secret Relationship and Breeding Kink. I hope you enjoy!

Masterlist | AO3

“Where the fuck else is there to go?” Tommy asked, shucking his mud-covered boots and leaving them in a pile by the door. 

“Just got business to take care of,” Joel said, voice rough. 

“It’s pourin’ rain, man,” his brother said, dropping his drenched pack to the table as if to make a point. “We didn’t even know we were makin’ it back tonight until fuckin’ tonight. Just stay home.” 

“Wanna get this done,” Joel said, taking his portion of their haul from his pack and piling it on the table. He left just one thing inside the pack. “Probably won’t be back ’til morning.” 

Tommy just pursed his lips, shaking his head a little. 

“Just don’t do anything stupid, Joel.” 

Joel didn’t say anything back. What did he have to say? 

Tommy had every reason to worry about him being stupid. Every reason to believe that Joel was going to do something that would hurt their smuggling operation. Every reason to believe that Joel was going to do something that would hurt himself. 

Which, he supposed, wasn’t particularly far off. 

You were, indeed, something stupid and something that would hurt him. 

You were his biggest indulgence and his biggest risk, the thing that was the largest threat to him here in the Boston QZ. 

Ex-wife of a FEDRA guard, Joel should avoid you. 

His work was dangerous enough as it was, he shouldn’t make it more dangerous by messing around that close to the people who could execute him if they really wanted, especially not with someone they seemed to take pleasure in tormenting.

But he couldn’t seem to stay away from you. 

He couldn’t put his finger on what it was. It wasn’t that he loved you. Not that he’d ever really loved a woman - he’d tried with Sarah’s mom and was sure he’d come up short - but he knew he didn’t have it in him to love anything now. The aching wound of loss took up too much of him, there wasn’t space for anything else.

But he did care. Whether that was because he was attached to you as a person or because you made him come so hard he forgot the world ended for a moment, he didn’t know. 

He supposed the why didn’t matter. He cared. He cared enough that he couldn’t lose you without it adding to that wound, one that had damn near killed him and had seemed to have only grown worse with time. 

That should be enough of a reason to stay away from you. Hadn’t he learned his lesson by now? That giving a shit only led to pain? That if he was going to keep surviving any of this, he had to be far, far away from something like you? 

Still, he made his way through the QZ, the pouring, cold rain fitting the grim environs. Everything here was slightly wrong. It looked something like a city from before but not. It appeared as though things could be normal, somewhere, except they weren’t. It seemed as though Joel had been tailor made for this place, this time. Living some kind of half life where everything was shades of gray, nothing left to live for but - apparently - not able to die. The last gasp of humanity left in him clinging to this world. 

That made you a shade of gray, too, one he wasn’t sure what to do with. 

It had started years earlier, when you were desperate and willing to trade sex for a gun. 

Joel hadn’t taken you up on the offer then, frowning as you watched him with wide, desperate eyes. 

“The hell do you need a gun for?” He’d asked. “If you don’t already got one, hard pressed to see someone like you startin’ in on a business that needed one.” 

“Does it matter?” You asked. “I’ll give you what ever you want, please.” 

“Matters to me,” Joel said. “Not about to arm someone looking to move in on my business.” 

“It’s not for that.” 

“Then you shouldn’t have a problem tellin’ me what it is for,” he replied. 

You looked around, cagey, before lowering your voice further. As though talking about an illegal weapons trade wasn’t enough of a reason to keep quiet. 

“I’m leaving my husband,” you said, those wide, soft eyes watching him so closely. “He’s FEDRA and he’s made it clear that he won’t let me go without a fight. I need to be able to protect myself, please, I can give you ration cards as I earn them, I can… I’ll do anything else you might want, I…” 

“Stop,” Joel cut you off, tears starting at the edges of your eyes. He took his hand gun from its place tucked in the small of his back and passed it to you as discreetly as he could. “There, now you got somethin’. Meet me here tomorrow, same time, I’ll get you more ammo. Know how to use it?” 

“Don’t I just point it and pull the trigger?” You asked, brows raised. 

He just sighed. 

“Think you can keep from usin’ it until tomorrow?” He asked. You nodded quickly. “Good. I’ll show you.” 

“Thank you,” you said, stashing the weapon quickly. “What… what do I owe you?” 

The fear in your voice made his stomach turn.

“Nothin’,” Joel said. “Fine on ration cards at the moment. Don’t trade in the other shit. Tomorrow. Don’t be late.” 

 You just nodded quickly, thanking him with too much earnest hope in your voice for something being spoken to him.

Joel spent the afternoon the next day teaching you how to shoot as best he could inside the QZ. Turns out, the reason you didn’t already know how is that you’d been in Boston during the outbreak. You’d just moved there with your shitbag of a husband a few weeks before it all came crashing down. You’d never really needed to fight, let alone shoot or kill. You never needed a gun. 

Until your husband started hitting you. 

Joel learned quickly exactly why you felt like you needed to be armed. He’d put a hand on your ribs to adjust your stance and you hissed in pain. Joel pulled away quickly, frowning as you tried to hide your pained expression but it didn’t work. 

“You gonna tell me what that was?” He asked, brows raised. You clenched your jaw and stared at the ground. 

“It’s not your business.”

“I’m helpin’ you, your husband is a fucking FEDRA officer, if you’re about to haul off and kill him I should know why,” he said, voice heated. “So tell me, he do that?” 

Your eyes finally met his and he didn’t need to ask again. 

“Lemme see.” 

“Joel…” 

“Show me,” he said, voice sharp. 

You sighed and lifted your sweatshirt, revealing discolored and swollen skin along one side. 

Joel clenched his jaw. 

“It’s gotten worse,” you said quietly. “I can’t keep pretending it’ll be OK if we just get through this, I can’t pretend like he hasn’t been building toward this for years. I need to get out before he kills me.” 

Joel stepped back and you lowered your shirt, your eyes on his. 

“He bigger than you?” He asked. You nodded. “Alright, gonna teach you a few more things, too…” 

He showed you how to protect yourself without a gun and how to end a conflict with one. He hoped you wouldn’t need to use either. After a few days of showing you how to do the things he’d assumed just came with the territory of surviving the end of the world, you went your separate ways. 

But Joel still thought of you, an odd twinge in his chest when he did, something like concern. He wanted you to be OK. He couldn’t put his finger on why that would matter to him but he wanted that, he wanted you to be safe and happy. 

So when he ran into you on the street a few months later, he couldn’t help but ask. And you smiled at him, brighter than he’d ever seen you look, when you told him that you had your own place now, that the gun he’d given you had never been fired. It was hard, but you’d survived. 

The two of you went to the speakeasy and you bought Joel a drink, saying you owed him for helping you get out of your situation. He let you buy the first round. He bought the second. Before too long, he was in your apartment, pulling off your clothes and touching your body without you flinching away from him. 

You became like a drug to him then. Every few nights he found himself outside your door, desperate for the reprieve you and your sex gave him. Some sense of normalcy, the ability to feel something beyond the crushing weight of loss, that brief moment when he was buried inside you and reaching his peak that the rest of the world fell away and he existed on a plane where nothing bad had ever happened to him and he’d never done anything to deserve it. 

He tried to pretend like that release is all it was. But then there were moments where he couldn’t deny that it was more. The time where he passed you on the street and your eyes met his and he wanted to go talk to you, to see why your eyes seemed dark and sad, but there was a FEDRA guard watching you from the corner and he couldn’t risk it, not for either of you. The time he showed up at your door and heard yelling and he pretended to be a neighbor to intervene. All the times he held you as you fell asleep nestled against his skin, soft and beautiful and trusting, all things that should have been driven out of you in the QZ. All things you should never have been with him in the first place. 

He swallowed those moments, tried to not let the fear and panic they sparked inside of him take over. The last time he loved someone, they died. The last time he loved someone, it almost killed him. He couldn’t love you. He couldn’t risk it. 

But here he was, at your door again, anyway.

He tried to stop himself from knocking but all it did was make his hand stutter before he did what he always did: wait for you to let him in. 

“Joel?” You opened the door in an oversized t-shirt and boxers, looking groggy. “You’re back.” 

You threw your arms around his neck and pulled him inside, pressing your body against his, burying your face in the hollow of his throat and he let himself breathe you in, remind himself that you were safe. 

“I was so worried about you,” your voice was muffled in the wet fabric of his shirt. “I heard some things from people at the gate and…” 

“The gate?” He frowned, pulling back from you. “The hell were you doin’ down there?” 

You looked at him, your lower lip going between your teeth, fingers twisting on themselves. 

“What. Were you doin’. At the gate.” 

“I heard something at work,” you said quietly. “About a patrol getting overrun by infected and… I wanted to see if there were signs of other people getting hurt, I’m sorry, I couldn’t just sit here and wait for you and not know…” 

“You can’t do shit like that,” he said roughly. “It ain’t safe, your fuckin’ husband is always looking for a reason to make your life hell, he would have me and Tommy killed if he knew about us, you can’t just…” 

“I know.” 

“Then why’d you do it?” He smacked his hand against the tabletop, making you flinch, hating himself for scaring you even for a moment. “I know you fuckin’ know better!” 

“Because I care about you!” You yelled, your voice thick. “Is that such a crime?” 

Joel crumpled at that, shoulders slouching. 

“That’s…” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “That ain’t what this is, honey, you know that.” 

“I know,” you said again, voice soft. “I’m not expecting anything from you, Joel, I know better than that. I just… I’m not just going to pretend that you’re nothing to me. Life is too short for that.” 

His heart thudded against his ribs, so hard it felt like a bruise. 

“I can’t…” 

“I know,” you whispered, reaching up and cupping his cheek. “It’s OK. I know.” 

He should have turned to leave then, he was smart enough to know that. But your hand was soft on his skin, your body was warm next to his, your eyes were welcoming and understanding in a way that nothing else had been since he’d lost the only thing that mattered. 

So he kissed you.

It wasn’t something that was soft and romantic, nothing like what you deserved, nothing like how he would have kissed you if he’d known you before. Instead it was fierce, devouring, harsh enough that he knew his stubble must be scratching your skin and he didn’t care. All he cared about was getting more of you. 

You tugged him back toward your bedroom, Joel stepping out of his boots as he went. He dropped his pack on the floor and tugged your shirt up and over your head, casting it aside. He ran his hands over your bared skin, your flesh pebbled where the cold, wet of his shirt touched you. He pulled that off, too, before he could do anything that hurt you, even for a moment. Christ knew you had enough of that behind you, the look on your face when he’d lost control just a minute before already a scar in his mind, adding to the scars on your skin from your marriage he wished he could go back and stop. 

You undressed each other quickly, desperately, and he all but threw you on the bed once you were naked. He followed you there, shedding the last of his clothes before crawling up your body, his finger tracing your slit to spread you open just enough that he could get his thick, hard cock inside. 

He should be more careful with you, he knew that. But he didn’t have the patience and you’d never, even once, asked him to slow down or be gentle. So he pushed himself inside with one sharp, hard stroke, making you gasp and arch beneath him as he groaned at the feeling of your tight cunt. You whimpered as he stilled deep inside, adjusting to how you held him, fighting to keep from coming too quick because you felt too goddamn good but he couldn’t waste it, not this fast. 

“You’re OK,” he panted, his mouth against your shoulder. “You can take it, baby, know you can, take it so well.” 

He felt you nod against him, your hands trembling as they went to his back, holding him close. 

“Just take it,” he said as he started to fuck into you, caving to his baser instincts and letting himself have you the way you seemed so willing to give yourself to him. “Just take it, honey, just let me… let me…” 

Your hips rolled to meet his, your nails digging into his skin. 

“Feels so good, Joel,” you whined against him. “Fuck, I missed you, you feel, you feel, I…” 

He kissed you, swallowing your babbling before you had a chance to complete your thought. He couldn’t hear what he was afraid was coming, a line he couldn’t bring himself to cross. There was so much he couldn’t give to you, so much that he knew you deserved but was too selfish to give you up so you could find it. 

But fuck, did he wish he could give you that. In another time, another place, another reality entirely, he could. He knew that. In some other world, one where humanity wasn’t gone and his daughter was still breathing, he would give you everything. In that world, he would love you. He would open your car door and share inside jokes and care for you in a way no one else could. In that impossible world, you and him lived in a little house with a garden out front and a spare bedroom where Sarah stayed when she came for a visit because she would be an adult now, with a life of her own instead of forever frozen at 14. In that reality, you were his in every way. His ring was on your finger, his roof over your head, his baby in your womb. He wouldn’t need to hide it then, wouldn’t need to tiptoe around FEDRA, wouldn’t need to be afraid of what loving you might mean. He could fuck you until you were full of him, so full that you carried part of him inside of you for months, your body growing and changing with it and then no one would ever question that you were his, fucking his. 

Your pussy drew tight around him as your fingers wound tight in his hair. Your nipples were hard against his chest, the plush of your breasts pressed to his front as your thighs tightened around his hips. 

He pulled his mouth from yours to kiss and suck his way down your neck to your chest, pressing himself deep inside you and letting himself pretend - just for a moment - that the reality he occupied was one where he could have you, really have you. That the two of you were in a cozy bedroom with furniture he built for you with a room a few doors down that you’d already started looking at cribs and changing tables to fill it with. 

“Gonna come,” you panted, your hips stuttering against him as he pressed inside, forcing the head of his cock against the soft, tender place deep within you. “Fuck, don’t stop, don’t stop, I’m gonna… I… I…” 

He was so close to his peak that he almost wanted you to say it. He wanted you to say it while he came deep inside you, leaving himself there so it could take, so he could watch you grow his child and take care of you through it, so he could take care of both of you after. Claim you so thoroughly that when you were in the QZ there was no question that you were his, not with his baby inside you and his arm around your shoulders. 

He wanted it. He wanted it so bad that, in that moment with his cock buried inside you as you keened below him, he didn’t care if it fucking killed him. 

Joel came apart when you did, the fluttering of your tight little hole sending him over the edge, the high of nothing else in the world mattering outside of you and the hot clutch of your body swallowing him whole for one glorious moment. 

But, as always happened, he came back down to earth, still held in the cradle of your hips, still breathing the scent of your skin, still lost in the wasteland that was once the world. 

He didn’t kiss you as he pulled out of you, collapsing on the bed next to you, closing his eyes for a moment to keep from looking at you too long. 

“You gotta be more careful,” he said after a moment. 

You were silent long enough that he looked over at you, finding you on your side facing him but staring down at the mattress. 

“I know,” you said eventually. 

“I’m not trying to be an asshole,” he said, his voice gentle. Or as gentle as he seemed to be able to make it now, anyway. “But you know what happened the last time he thought you were seein’ someone. If killing him would fix it, I would, but I can’t kill every fucking FEDRA guard who’d take it out on you and I’m not gonna be the reason you get hurt.” 

“I know,” you said again, looking at him this time. “But I… I just…” 

“I know,” he said it this time, his stomach twisting. 

You just nodded. 

“You deserve better,” he said eventually. “Shouldn’t let me treat you the way I do.” 

“I don’t mind.” 

“You should,” he snapped and then sighed, staring at the ceiling again. “Sorry for scarin’ you before. When I hit the table. I… I would never…” 

“I know,” you said, more confidently then. He looked back to you, frowning. “I’m not afraid of you, Joel. I know better about that, too.” 

He was silent again, going back to staring at your water-stained ceiling. 

“Should probably take a break,” he said eventually. “Not see each other for a bit.” 

“It wouldn’t change anything,” you said quietly. He frowned, watching you again. “I know myself. I know how I feel. It’s OK. I don’t expect anything from you. Not even this.” 

His eyes searched yours and he let himself try to reach some other version of him on some other plane, one where things were safe and he was in the bed you shared with him in the home you made together. A version where he could be honest with you and it wouldn’t destroy him. 

“I’d give you more if I could,” he said instead. 

You smiled ever so slightly, a gentle curve to your lips. 

“I know,” you said softly. “Believe it or not, I know you, too, Joel.” 

He let himself look at you for a moment, let that terrifying wound at the center of him hurt where he could really feel it, to feel the horror of what letting himself love you would be. 

“It’s OK,” you whispered as you reached out and brushed his curls back, your fingertip grazing the scar at his temple. “I’ll just love you, anyway.” 

He stayed in your bed that night, lying awake as you slept against him, ignoring the scream of panic at the core of him to run while he still could. He knew it couldn’t last. He knew he couldn’t rest like this, not with you this close, not in this awful place with that awful hurt. But he couldn’t leave you either. Not like this. 

“Oh,” he said the next morning when it was still dark so he could slip back to his own apartment before some FEDRA prick was awake to see him leaving your place. “Almost forgot.” 

He pulled a scarf from his pack, the one thing he hadn’t left at home after this run. It was thick, the knit heavy, a color that made your eyes shine. Not that he had pictured you wearing it with those eyes of yours when he’d picked it up. He held it out to you and you frowned, confused, as you took it. 

“Winter is around the corner and you were cold all the time last year,” he said gruffly. “Don’t want you freezin’ to death.” 

You smiled a little, running your fingers over the pattern knit into the yarn. 

“Thank you,” you said, holding it to your chest and looking back to him. “I really needed this, Joel.” 

He just grunted, pulling his pack on and heading for the door. 

“I’m gonna stay away from you for a while,” he said, trying to ignore the pain in his chest at that. “Don’t want anyone catching on.” 

“OK,” you said, eyes searching his before you stepped close to him and slowly, cautiously, pressed your soft, warm lips to his own. “Take care of yourself for me, OK?” 

You said it like you would say I love you. 

“You, too,” he said. He wondered if it sounded the same to you, too. 

 Staying away from you took work. He wanted to see you, be next to you, get lost in you. But he knew where that would lead and he couldn’t let it, not now, not like this. 

So he stayed away for weeks. He stayed away until the first snowfall of the season in Boston and he made an excuse to go stand outside your job. He couldn’t help it. He needed to make sure you were warm and safe so he stood there and watched you leave, his scarf around your neck, You caught his eye with a small smile as you passed a FEDRA guard and he knew, with sinking certainty, he’d be back at your door that night. 

He just couldn’t seem to stay away from you. 

[backinmyphase]

Not alone

Synopsis: After your horrible introduction to each other, Satoru and you have finally time to get to know each other on your honeymoon now. That's everything that is happening - surely right?

Or: Satoru Gojo doesn't even know how attached he will grow to his wife yet.

Pairing: Gojo x reader, 2800 words

Series Masterlist

I want to thank all of you for the support and the comments, I'm so happy other people like my writing <33 Anyway I hope you like it!

"I can't believe I really listened to you. What am I doing?"

Gojo grinned to himself and went on as if he didn't hear you.

"To the trainstation, please." He handed the cab driver the destination and sat next to you in the back instead of the front.

And suddenly his body was so close, his presence became impossible to not notice.

"I'm so happy to be able to convince you." He looked out of the window.

He sat so relaxed, legs stretched apart and his body lying comfortably in the seat. How could he be so relaxed?

"They'll freak out. Kill me. And then wipe out my clan. In that order."

Gojo laughed. "Sure they will."

"They really could." You shook your head and looked out the window on your side.

"No, they couldn't. They don't dare do anything to you." His voice was full of confidence.

'If only you knew what they dare to do.' You thought about the letters. 'If only you knew.

"Just forget about them, okay?" You felt his body turn towards you. "It's always just higher ups this, clan that. Just try to relax."

"Yeah, yeah." you whispered and look outside. You could see the pitiful look of the driver from the side mirror outside the car.

What were you thinking? This morning you somehow thought that it wouldn't be so bad to just leave. And Gojo looked at you so full of expectation that you didn't want to disappoint him.

But now?

The only thing you could see as you closed your eyes was the disapproving face of your mother. She wouldn't have done anything that would damage the clan's reputation.

And on top of that the panic began to settle.

You were on your honeymoon. Alone. With your husband. It the higher ups don't kill you, well, they will at least expect a child. Or expect you to expect a child. Doesn't matter.

You couldn't even breath near Gojo out of panic, how could you sleep with him?

He yawned loudly, breaking you away from your thoughts. His eyes half lidded open, he stretched his arms.

Maybe it wasn't just the panic.

You looked outside again to hide the on creeping redness on your face. It just wasn't fair. You weren't made for this, weren't made to be Gojo's wife. He just was so… Gojo and you were… Well you.

The two of you just don't make a good pair.

And surely not a good heir, which will be your doom.

"You look tired." his voice was since yesterday really soothing somehow. "When we are in the train you can sleep."

"Are you sure?" you looked at him as he smiled.

"Yeah, I will wake you up."

You smiled hesitantly back. "Thank you."

~

"What were you thinking? I mean-" your mother paced through the room of the arrangement. "Have I taught you nothing?"

Her voice was loud, piercing, ready to hurt you. As she stood before you, you made yourself ready. "You have to inform the higher ups! Is that to much for you stupid brain?"

"I know mother." your voice trying it's best to be steady as you looked at the ground. "But Gojo…"

She shook her head. "Don't come me with that, it is ridiculous! As if he would be soooo passionate about going with you to the honeymoon! Do you think I'm dumb?"

She looked you in the eyes. "You two are not that close. You prove that every time you talk about him."

"But he was really excited to see…"

"God, stop with your excuses! We are not mad you are on your honeymoon and you know that!" she raised a hand to shut you down. "We are mad because you didn't provide us with information like promised."

You hung your head a bit lower, the guilt pushing you down. You didn't feel guilty because messing up, you felt guilty because you seem to have disappoint her yet again. After she gave you all these chances.

"Yes, mother."

She sighed. Her voice becoming unsteady for a second. Suddenly you felt a cold hand creeping up your back making you shiver.

"You have to get yourself together."

The hand caressing your cheek while wind blew inside your ear. Was there someone beside you?

"All of Jujutsu Society is counting on you right now. A new heir is needed to keep the world balance right. And you are the one needed right now."

The cold fingers went down to your throat. First careful, then more forceful. You wanted to stand up and scream, kick around yourself, but you didn't want to seem that crazy in front of your mother.

"Do you understand?"

Carefully slow your head rose. The hand now pressing down and chocking you slowly.

"Yes, mother."

She smiled. But it wasn't sincere. No, it was her mask smile, the one she kept on when the arrangements occurred. Steady and stern, not revealing anything.

"Well then you can say it to them directly."

The room around you began to spin and transform. Dizziness flooded you, but you were unsure if it came from the sudden change or the deficit of air. Or both.

When you could see through the spinning, a room full of nothingness became clear. The only thing you could decipher was-

"Mrs. Gojo. We thought we were on the same page."

The presence of the higher ups.

You couldn't speak, no everything was blurry and dark and just… Just unbearable. Your body seemed like a prison that kept you there, your mind trying to push out of it.

"Didn't we make ourselves clear?"

You didn't get any air anymore, tears started to dwell up in your eyes. When was the last time you let yourself cry like that?

"Mrs. Gojo. We THOUGHT you knew now of what your importance your marriage to Gojo Satoru is. Why we have to know your decisions."

You hiccuped and almost choked on your tears.

"So WHY did you just LEA-"

A sudden push and pull of your body made you jump. Your eyes now blinking wide open, while the world seemed to keep spinning.

"Hey… Hey! What's wrong??"

You kept your eyes open and the only thing that didn't spin were the eyes in front of you. The sunglasses pulled down, Gojo's blue eyes were wide open. The world around you seemed to stop spinning and you started to feel his close presence.

"Nothing, I'm okay." you looked down and noticed his hands on your shoulders. His grip on you was steady yet still soft.

"Are you kidding me? You were crying in your sleep just now." He tried to look you in the eyes as you looked stubbornly onto the ground.

"I just had a nightmare." you winded yourself out of his soothing grip. "Are we there yet?"

You looked him in the face with your usual mask on, trying to hide the panic in your head. Gojo frowned and looked almost concerned.

"Next station. But are you sure you're okay-"

"Alright, perfect. Thank you." hastily you cut him off, not wanting to go deeper into the topic while you smiled your best 'everything is alright' smile at him.

He swallowed it. For now.

But his hand was still close to your shoulder. And he didn't pull it away. While looking outside he spoke again.

"We will sleep in the little hotel of Hinas Grandmother. It's not far from the train station."

You nodded while trying to calm down from the roller-coaster of emotions you were just on.

"Okay, then let's get our things now. We are almost there."

~

"Gojo, let me carry on thing please." you pleaded while following your husband as he shook his head.

His hand on your suitcases and an additional backpack on his back. "No chance. I'm not letting you carry anything. You are exhausted enough."

You looked around seeing the stares of other people in this small place. It must have been a really odd picture. A big man carrying two suitcases behind him while his wife was just following him. Oh god…

"Please Gojo, people are staring." you whispered to him but he just whistled with a smile on his face.

You sighed and embraced your fate. He was really something.

"There it is!" he nodded in direction of a small old, building. It had charm and you couldn't help but smile.

You opened the doors for your stubborn husband and adored the older structure of the house. And at the counter stood an elderly woman smiling at you. You couldn't help but smile back.

"Good day to you two. Sleeping here for the night?" she spoke calmly and slow. And still had that glint in her eyes.

"Yeah, we have reservations on the name Gojo." Gojo smiled and leaned onto the counter while holding his ID. The woman looked at it and gasped.

"Oh, you were the lovely couple Hina told me about! Of course we have a room for you two. Honeymoon, wasn't it?" she smiled at you.

You wanted to disagree but slowly it dawned to you. She thought you were married. Well, you were married, but she thought you were married because you wanted to.

"Yes, Honeymoon. Took awhile to convince her to go here." Gojo laughed while taking the key.

"Oh, really?" the woman looked at you surprised.

"Well, that's just not right." you gasped while taking your own suitcase before gojo could take it. "I didn't want to leave immediately, but he wanted to just go, go, go."

"Well, Darling, I just couldn't wait." He grinned at you with that sparkle in his eye. "Is that so bad?"

"You know it is-"

The woman laughed and shook her head. "Oh you two…" she swiped a tear away. "Young love is so refreshing."

You couldn't help the blush that was creeping up again, for the second time this day, and just wanted to hide your face forever before he saw you like that. You looked at the stairs.

And there stood Gojo ready to go upstairs. Smiling at you.

You cleared your throat, while hoping to get a grip on to yourself and pulled your things behind you. "Thank you for the lovely Hospitality."

"Oh, any time." she waved as you stood before the stairs. "Just make yourself at home. Just like Hina has a home at yours."

You waved back, while smiling, before pulling your things up. You forgot how heavy it was, since Gojo carried it till here. But you didn't want to give him the satisfaction of asking for his help and proving that you were just as exhausted as he thought.

As you stood before your room you raised an eyebrow at him. "Darling?"

He smiled and turned around to open the room with the key. "Oh, you know. Just slipped."

"Really?" you pulled your things into the room, while following him. He chuckled lightly.

"Yeah. And, well, we are here just a married couple. Not an arrangement for the future of the jujutsu society. So we should act like one."

"Suree." you looked around. And horror began to settle.

You were registered as a married couple. So you had only one big bed. And a normal married couple wouldn't have problems with that, would it?

"I will take the couch." your voice was much more quiet now. It was like they were here, chanting that they need a heir. And you shouldn't be so irrational.

"No way." he shook his head. "You look like you need days of sleep. I'm not letting you sleep on the uncomfortable couch."

"It's not a problem." you walked over to the couch and sat down. It wasn't comfortable, he was right. But who would hurt a little lie?

It was his turn to raise an eyebrow at you. "Let's make a deal."

You looked him in the eyes, in those beautiful eyes. "I'm all ears."

He grinned. "You lie down in the bed for now and sleep till evening while I explore the town. You need the sleep. And later we can discuss who sleeps where."

"I don't have to sleep nooooo-" a yawn interrupted you. "hw. Forget it. Let's do it like you said."

He grinned even wider while handing you the backpack with water inside. "Then make yourself comfortable."

He stood up and took his things and the key. But while pulling the door handle down he stooped.

"Oh, and one thing." he took a book out of the backpack and handed it to you. "I read this before sleeping. Helps me. Even for nightmares. Just in case."

You looked at the title of the book and it said 'Before the coffee gets cold'. A black cat on the cover and you couldn't help but smile.

You looked up at him and chuckled to yourself.

"Thank you, Gojo."

~

You did have problems sleeping. It wasn't that the bed was uncomfortable.

But you couldn't help but think of the things that the higher ups expected you to do on it.

The covers laid heavy on you, while your hand reached for the book Gojo gave you. A chapter couldn't hurt. And maybe he was right and it really helped.

He was really nice to you. He seemed to make an effort right now. And you appreciated that he wanted to make this arrangement easier (since he was really making it hard in the beginning).

And he was so nice and open to you. And he helped you with the luggage and while sleeping. And his eyes were so-

Oh no.

Oh no no no no no no no.

No that wasn't happening right now. Not after you just had a couple of conversations. It couldn't be.

But as you read a couple of sentences and felt yourself relaxing to the story, you knew that it was. You couldn't fight the smile that made it's way onto your face.

God dammit.

~

Satoru was worried about you. You looked like you didn't sleep in weeks even though it could have only been last night. You were stressed.

And as much as he wanted you to relax, he couldn't force anything that would just stress you more.

But it was so nice to see you smile from time to time. After all the silence and hiding was it like fresh wind.

"Oh, Mr. Gojo already going out?" Hina's grandmother smiled at him while going through the oages of the visitor book.

"My wife is tired, and I wanted to explore the town." he made his way to the counter again. "Do you have any advice for good restaurants? Or cafés?"

"Oh, I do." she smiled at him. "Sato's kitchen down the street is lovely. And the atmosphere is perfect for a romantic dinner."

She sighed. "My husband and I went there a couple of times, when we were younger. It's a lovely place. Not cheap. But lovely."

He chuckled at that. "Thank you, that sounds like something we have to check out. And anything for take out? I don't want her to have to move again today."

She laughed. "Aren't you a gentleman! Well if you look for good take out, we have a good ramen shop in the main street."

"Then I have to check it out." He made a little dramatic bow. "Thank you for your wisdom Mrs. Sato."

She made sure it wasn't a problem as he left. And if he has any questions of what to do here with his wife he could just come to her.

And he wouldn't forget that.

~

Your body felt heavy as you heard a quiet creak. Your eyes were shut and your head felt a bit dizzy. You still held the book in your hands as you heard a couple of steps.

"You back, Gojo?" you mumbled, your eyes not wanting to open.

"Yeah, but it's not important just keep sleeping."

You wanted to sit up but your body felt heavy. You groaned as you realized what that meant.

"You tricked me…" you weren't sure he would even understand your mumbling. "I'm sleeping now in the bed, and I can't do anything about it…"

You heard a light chuckle that made your traitor of a heart jump.

"I didn't trick you, we had a deal. And now we decided that you sleep in the bed and I sleep on the couch."

"We didn't decide anything…" your voice became more of a whisper as you felt your consciousness drifting away.

"Well," his voice was suddenly really close. "You only have a say if you drop the last name."

Your eyes opened and looked into his. He sat at the end of the big bed, head on his hands as he looked at you.

"I'm Satoru. We are Gojo." He smiled.

"And as Mrs. Gojo you are not alone."

Your eyes fell shut after that. And maybe you were just imagining that. But it still made you feel traitorous warm inside.

Ongoing Taglist (If you wanna be added yous say so, I will add you to the main taglist on the master list) :

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[kaiyunsim]

HEARTS IN THE MARGINS — chapter 12 : og bf

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written section : (wc : ~450) not proof read :>

Jake shows up at the usual meetup spot, the library, this time a half-hour early. He feels bad for having you come over on such short notice so he decides to pick something up on his way there. The place he stopped by was a coffee shop that you mentioned that you liked, he took a mental note of it and hoped it would make up for the mini emergency that he had.

fifteen minutes pass, normally you would be there. he doesn’t think much about it though because it’s still early. eventually it reaches the time you agreed to meet up and he looks around for you, still nowhere to be seen. he starts to check his messages if you said anything. empty. he decides to text again, thinking you probably just missed his previous message.

hi y/n erm you’re coming right

he texts, of course not expecting a response right away so he puts his phone down. he starts to scan his surroundings checking if you are around. he kills some time by preparing the area and setting up his supplies and books.

eventually fifteen minutes pass, he just makes up another excuse, ‘maybe they’re bus is late’ ‘maybe they had to do something’ ‘maybe they forgot’ he rambles on and on in his own thoughts wondering why you aren’t there yet. he checks his messages again, all of them left on delivered.

are they ignoring me?

jake thinks to himself. after waiting another fifteen minutes, for a total of thirty minutes later than the scheduled meetup, jake finally packs up and starts to leave. at this point his gift that he got you was cold and ruined already.

jake leaves and drives off to the last place he last knew you were, heeseung’s place. once there he knocks. heeseung opens the door and greets jake with a confused face.

”why are you here? i didn’t know were having a game session today…” heeseung rambles,

”no i’m not here to play,” jake scoffs, slightly annoyed by the comment from heeseung, “is y/n here?”

”oh you know them? they left just a bit ago”

”really? which bus did they take?” jake asks, knowing you don’t have a car and just use public transit.

”oh they didn’t take a bus, their friend picked them up.”

jake sighs in defeat, not knowing of any more places to check or find y/n.

“why don’t you try asking hoon? they’re friends,” heeseung comments, trying to help jake out. it sucks to see him like this so heeseung wanted to do whatever he could to help.

jake nods before waving goodbye and hopping into his car, driving back to his dorm, leaving him thinking about what to do next.

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prev | masterlist | next

a/n : sorry everyone been busy doing school :(( BUT i have a long weekend so maybe oneshots?? i didn’t really like how this turned out but i have some ideas for future chapters. plus i had to get something out i feel bad for being so ia so it def feels a bit rushed. (please request things so i get out of this writing block for hearts in the margins)

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taglist ! : (OPEN !) comment or send an ask to be added !

@onlyhyunjin @starchasing-cryptid @bubblztaro @kanattac @nootnootpinguuu @gnusihcom @kkurbys @w0uldyoukissme @ilovejungwonandhaechan @pshwrldd @minoouz @winuvs @zhaegon @danielleism

[noblehouseofgay]

Nowhere to go

Jegulus and Black Brothers microfic

Reg survives the cave

Longer than usual, I got carried away

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

He was bleeding out, he was sure of it. His blurry vision alone told him that he only had so long left.

He almost couldn't decide if he'd rather come here or just bleed out. But he did have some self preservation left, so here he stood at the Potter's door.

As far as they knew, he was an evil death eater. He knew there was a chance he'd be turned away or even killed on the spot. After years of turning down their invitations, what right did he even have to be here?

Unfortunately he couldn't change his mind. He all but collapsed against the door. This was it wasn't it? The Potters would find a corpse on their doorstep and not even know why. Well, at least he'd get to traumatize his brother one last time.

He felt the door open against his leg and he heard someone yell. He had no idea who it was or what was being said. He was blacking out fast. Ha, blacking out. Black. Oh I'm dying. His deluded thoughts ceased as he left consciousness.

~~~

Regulus shot up, breathing quickly. Where the hell was he? He remembered the cave. He remembered ordering kreacher to leave. He remembered.....oh merlin, he remembered being dragged down. Pulled beneath the water. He remembered being apparated. He didn't know how but he'd ended up on a street corner. And he remembered choosing to find the Potters. Oh fuck. He was at the Potters.

He looked around, quickly finding his brother asleep on the chair nearby. Sirius. Without thinking, Regulus began to reach out to him. He gently touched his brother's hand. He was real. He was here.

Sirius stirred and Regulus pulled his hand away. They made eye contact for the first time in years. "Reggie..." Regulus bit his lip. What was he supposed to say right now? How do you even explain this situation?

Apparently it didn't matter, because Sirius moved quickly to hug Regulus. Soon enough they were sobbing into each other. The embrace felt like home, something Regulus hadn't felt since he was 13.

"What happened to you? Did our parents do that-" Sirius pulled back, looking horrified. "I swear, Reggie you- you looked dead!"

"I know how to kill him." Sirius froze. "I know how to kill the dark lord. I already have one piece, I- I don't know how many there are- but he can be killed, Sirius."

Sirius looked beyond lost. "Reggie, slow down." He sighed. "I'm going to grab James and his parents, then you're going to tell us everything."

So he did. Regulus filled them in on what he could, all while avoiding James' eyes as much as possible. Even now, those eyes held so much power over Regulus.

After he'd told the story, Effie and Monty left to discuss, leaving the three boys alone.

The silence was thick. "I'm glad you're ok." Of course James would say that, he had a heart too big for his body. Regulus nodded in response, his feelings too overwhelming to speak.

"You're staying here, by the way, I hope that's obvious. I'm not letting you get away from me again, Reggie. You're not going back to that house." Regulus sighed and looked at his brother. He assumed that would be the case. "Fine, but I'll need to get kreacher to bring me things from there. I've done a lot of research on the horcruxes, it's all in my journals. Plus I had him take the locket since-..." He almost didn't want to say it again. "Since I didn't think I'd make it out. The plan was he'd take the locket and my studies to you. But I think he brought me here as well, I'm not sure."

"Well at least that bloody elf has done one good thing." "Watch it. He's helped me a lot, Sirius. He's loyal to be more so than the house of Black." Sirius rolled his eyes. "Fine. But I still don't like him." He stood up. "I'll go get your guest room set up, it's next to mine."

Well now this was just awkward. He was left with James, you know, the boy he'd spent years in love with. The boy he'd danced around and teased for years. The boy he never got the chance to be with. The boy he never thought would even look at him.

The Marauders' final year had changed a lot though. Regulus and James became closer than ever. That is, until Regulus had to distance himself for everyone's sake. They'd never even kissed. Never did more than give each other looks in the halls, really.

Regulus spoke quietly, not looking at the boy. "I had nowhere else to go, I-" he took a breath, "I really wouldn't have put all this on you if I'd had a choice." James carefully moved to sit next to Regulus, his hand lightly resting on his. "I'm glad you did, Reg. We didn't- we had no idea if you were even still alive. Neither of us had ever seen you on the battlefield, there were no reports of you." James fingers held Regulus hand gently. "This was your plan from the start?" Regulus nodded. "I understand why you didn't tell us...but I wish you could've. I wish we could've helped you."

Regulus swallowed, staring into those warm hazel eyes. "I didn't want to risk your lives. I did it to keep you as safe as I could. If you hated me...then you wouldn't try to save me." Regulus laughed a little sadly. "Yet here we are now, it ended up being your problem in the end anyway." "Hey, don't do that. We want to help, Reg. You've done so much. We can end the war now! Because of you..." James brushed some black strands of hair out of Regulus' face. "You're so brave, you know that?" The taller boy stood up and left a kiss on Regulus' head, leaving the smaller boy blushing like crazy. He smiled at Regulus and nodded for him to follow. "I'll take you to your room, you should rest."

Regulus stood and followed, in somewhat of a daze from that interaction. They went upstairs and found Sirius setting up the room, adding a few little details. Sirius smiled at his brother, something Regulus never thought he'd do again.

The two other boys nodded to Regulus and headed out, Sirius giving him a gentle squeeze on the shoulder. "I'm right next door, Reggie. James is across from me, and the bathroom is at the end of the hall." James peaked back in from the hall. "And my parents are just down from me if you need them. Or us. Whatever you need, alright?" Regulus nodded with a small smile. "Get some rest, Reggie."

Regulus immediately laid down, feeling himself already being pulled into sleep. He was exhausted. Today had been forty hours long, he swore it. He'd almost died and reunited with his brother and James all in a few hours. There was a lot to deal with starting tomorrow, but for now he'd rest well, knowing his had those two back in his life.

[inkspottie]

going as anon today because i think half of your followers have already gotten to know me way too well from all of the drawings i keep sending, but even if it’s probably too much to ask, i would literally DIE for a small 50-60 word max snippet of what was going through Eve’s head when she saw into Gabriels memories while she was trying to make him and Anzu look at her and found memories of human Seb

like i’m literally flopping around on the floor like a fish out of water

spottie i will buy you a goddamm crown with your name engraved on it just pLEASEEEEEE IM DYING OVER HERE

Eve was a brilliant creature. A being yanked from the animal world and brought into a new consciousness. Ascending from her plane of existence, feeling, thinking. She had emotions, thoughts, worries.

With all that she had, she still couldn’t understand. Her mind was constantly changing, she couldn’t keep up with the things these humans continued to do to her.

Just a simple shark now having the ability to peer into one’s mind, being able to destroy you from the inside and out.

After the escape, she thought about leaving. Her instincts beckoned her to do so, but then again these new thoughts. These new ideas told her something else, that she had family. That she had a pup. Someone to take care of.

She could not be the way a human saw a mother, but she could be the support he needed. Sebastian. The creature who released her, helped her, and in turn she helped him.

“Keep them away from the crystal.” He had said, he needed time and she was happy to give it. These expendables were trying to get to it, and she would prevent them.

And she had a little friend to help. Painter. Yet another victim of this horrible facility. While he was organic, he was not. A machine. Who thought and felt just like she did.

He had access to doors, often shutting them so Eve could come in and kill whoever was trapped.

It was a fun little game they had. Never speaking but enjoying each others company.

This was supposed to be no different. Three victims, three new bodies. One was already peering into her eyes, but the other they were resisting. Eventually she would be able to get them.

She extends her powers, tendrils reaching and grasping through the folds of their mind. Finding family, mothers, sisters, brothers anything that would coax them to look. Whispering words of encouragement.

A mother, a sister…and then…someone. Someone familiar.

Gabe. The voice whispers. A familiar voice. One she recognizes.

This causes her to stutter, digging deeper into this stranger’s mind. Flashes of images hit her, seeing a face that is so familiar that it nearly sends her flying back into her own head.

Sebastian.

Human Sebastian, one she only seen when soothing the wounds of her pup, her child. Mere glimpses of what he was. This man knew him. This man called for him. Begging for mercy.

This was new to her, and for a moment she falters. Panicked and trembling she pulls away, darting off to find a spot where she could think.

Now this…this complicated things much more than she ever could imagine.

She must tell Sebastian.

[multifandomfix]

I Never Promised You A Rose Garden — Regina Mills

Summary: You’ve always loved Regina, but her actions as the Evil Queen finally become too much to bear. Will she see the error of her ways in time or will it be too late to make her amends?

Word Count: 1,377

Warnings: Angst, grief, no happy ending

You’ve always loved Regina.

You were there before Daniel, before the eventual heartbreak that followed in the wake of his death, before she became the Evil Queen. From the moment you met her, you knew she was special. She was kind, passionate, and full of life. When she fell in love with Daniel, you saw her happiness and swallowed your own pain, choosing instead to support her.

You remembered the first time you saw her with him. The way her eyes sparkled and her laugh rang out, pure and unrestrained. It was a beautiful sight, even if it broke your heart. "He's everything to me," she had confided to you one day, her smile brighter than the sun. You nodded, forcing a smile and hiding the turmoil inside you. You told her you were happy for her. In part, at least, you were.

When Cora killed Daniel, you were the one who held Regina, comforting her through her grief. "I can't go on without him," she had sobbed, clinging to you like a lifeline. You wanted to whisk her way and protect her from the world’s cruelty then, but before you’d had a chance, Leopold came with his proposal, and she was drawn into a grander life that you couldn’t follow her into. "I have to do this," she'd said to you, mere days before she was to depart, and this time it not only broke your heart, but hers. Cora had made this decision for her, and no matter what you said, you knew her fate was sealed.

When Leopold died, Regina found you again, asking you to be an adviser in her court. It wasn’t an offer you could refuse, not that you had wanted to. You were happy to be by her side once more, even though something felt different. In private, she was still your Regina, soft and caring, especially with you and her father, Henry. But around others, she had become the Evil Queen, cold and ruthless. It was a dissonance you struggled to reconcile.

"Why are you doing this?" you asked her one night, after a particularly harsh punishment to one of her guards.

"Because I have to be strong," she replied, looking away. You thought to argue that there were other ways she could be seen as such, but you could tell by her demeanor that she would hear none of it.

You, along with Henry, tried to dissuade her from casting the curse you both knew was coming, but again, she wouldn’t listen. "This isn't the answer, Regina," you pleaded. "You can't build your happiness on others' misery."

She looked at you, eyes hard. "Happiness is a lie," she snapped. "Revenge is all I have left."

Watching the woman you so ardently adored become this cold, unloving and merciless queen had hurt you more than you imagined. You debated leaving more than once, but your devotion to her and the person she’d been stopped you each and every time. You still thought you could get through to her.

However, her sacrificing her father to enact her dark curse was the breaking point. You couldn’t hold back any longer. "Regina, stop!" you shouted, rushing to her side. "I can't let you do this."

She turned to you, eyes cold. "You don't get to tell me what to do," she said. "Not anymore." You could tell the last part wasn’t meant for you specifically, but Regina was so lost in her own hatred, she wasn’t being rational.

"This isn't you," you cried, tears streaming down your face. "I don't recognize you anymore. What happened to the woman I loved?"

Regina's eyes widened in shock. "Loved?" she repeated, incredulous. "You... loved me?" For a moment, you glimpsed the Regina you used to know.

"Yes," you said, voice trembling. "I've loved you all these years. Even when it hurt, even when you pushed me away."

And just like that it was gone, that lightness in her eyes darkened once more and Regina snapped, refusing to believe you. To her, the only happiness was making Snow White suffer. Your confession was seen as a weakness, an obstacle in her path to revenge. "You're lying," she spat. "You're trying to weaken me, to stop me from getting what I deserve."

"No, Regina, please," you begged. "I'm telling the truth. I love you."

But it was too late. She had her guards seize you, and you were left to watch as she prepared to cast the curse. "Get out," she ordered, voice breaking slightly. "And don't come back."

It was too late for Regina to turn back. "I can't stop now," she whispered to herself, tears in her eyes as she moved to complete the curse. "I can't."

*****

For twenty eight years in Storybrooke, she thought about you, regretting the day that she let you go and longing for your presence. With no magic in this land, she couldn’t track you down. She didn’t even know if you’d made it here when the curse covered the land. She had no way of knowing for certain. Not unless she saw you. And for all twenty eight years, she’d not even seen you in passing once.

Finally, when Emma broke her curse, Regina disappeared to her vault and cast a spell on a necklace of yours that she had kept for all these years. The spell led her to a spot in the back of her garden where a bush of wild roses grew. Confused, she went to Gold, who gave her a potion to show the last memories of the person she thought about.

Once safely home, she drank the concoction down, damning any side effects that may come with it. She had to know where you were. Her vision clouded over and a scene played out in her head.

It was back on the day she cast the curse, you had broken free from her guards, the ones she’d ordered to take you away from her. You tried to reach her, in one desperate last chance to stop her. If you’d made it to her, you still would been too late, somehow she knew that, but as she watched you run, trying to make it back in the castle, she felt an ache grip her chest. And there it was, you, stumbling up the stairs in your hurry and alerting some of the castle knights. Thinking you were an ally of Snow White and Prince Charming, they pursued you, catching you easily enough after your fall. And Regina collapsed onto the floor when she witnessed one of them stab their sword through your chest.

As the fog of the memories lifted from her eyes she realized, if her house here in Storybrooke represented her former castle, then the bush of wild roses in her yard marked the very spot where you died.

Regina was completely broken by the vision and by your loss, but she made a promise to herself. She hadn’t been able to protect you in life, but she would take care of those roses until her dying breath. The bush grew there at the back of her garden because you had almost reached her when the curse was cast. Now, the place of your death had become a silent testament to her loss.

Every day, Regina tended to the roses, pouring her love and regret into their care. "I'm so sorry," she whispered to the blooms. "I was blind and foolish. I should have listened to you."

As the years passed, the roses flourished under her care, a living memorial to the love she had lost. Regina would often sit by the bush, talking to the flowering bush as if you could hear her. "I miss you," she would say, tears glistening in her eyes. "I wish I could reverse it all, make things right."

In her heart, she vowed to honor your memory, knowing that she had been too blind to see the truth when it mattered most. The roses became her solace, a reminder of what she had once and had lost, and the depth of her own folly. And as she tended to them, she hoped that somehow, somewhere, you could feel her love and her regret, and forgive her.

For @annalestern

Forever Tag: @baubeautyandthegeek, @ghostsunderstoodmysoul, @immyowndefender, @valencethefriendlychangeling, @crimsonwidow666, @rebelbossheart, @thedailyspiritualist, @orangeisnttheonlyfruit, @woman-simp, @aperol-with-izzy, @leonoralessoem, @ellepossum69, @lakita-fisher, @trexsuit, @analuw, @luvlesavyy, @malfoyfeed, @aliciabrower, @sparrowspixie, @imaginationismyworldlypleasure, @og-kxsh-420

Regina Mills: @dancingwith-sunflowers, @riveranddoctorsong123, @the-disorderly-writer, @ladysc, @reginassecretlover, @sarah-paulsons-bottom-lip, @ejcoolgirl, @xscarlettxbelovax, @iciclesandsnow, @the-bearr, @akeldamasemele, @geekyandgay98, @yetanotherattemptatanaccount, @academiagaymess, @lady-darkswan3, @babygirlscout, @myfriendtuvok, @axel-barnes

[comingdownwithme]

what do they do now that they’ve seen each other?

and how long does it take toby to eventually become fond of jeff again?

When they first saw each other, Jeff was fucking elated. In that moment, he wasn't "Jeff the Killer", a wanted man, dead or alive for a growing number of homicides, instead, he was Jeffery Woods, known teen troublemaker, eldest brother of a four person family, and a lost man who had damned himself to hell when he took out his grief and rage in the worst way possible after that night of the fire.

The man was desperate for that sense of familiarity, a sense of normalcy, of home, and there he was, just out of reach.

But for Toby, the bane of his existence was there, just within swinging distance.

And so, the proxy attacks.

Jeff would move on instinct, swinging first before he could even think.

The guilt that followed when he realised he had left a long, clean line from Toby's chest up to his shoulder still eats at him to this very day, stinging far worse than the deep cut Toby had left when he swung his axe into his side.

Jeff, crashing hard from the high he was riding only the briefest of seconds earlier, ran.

The proxy gave chase. The hooded man was in his territory, the hunting grounds of a faceless monster and those who serve it, and if there's any place Toby knew better than the back of his hand, it was these woods.

But Jeff didn't get this far, didn't get to live this long, if he wasn't a damn good escapist.

So, in the end, he had managed to get away. The odds were vastly against him, but Jeff was a survivor at heart and he had a track record for evening the odds and turning the losing hand the universe gave him into something passable.

Still, as the white-hooded killer grew the distance between him and the edge of those damned woods, confused and hurt not only by the still-bleeding wound at his side, but by the way his best friend had reacted, Jeff- sinking into his most selfish impulses- wanted that sense of normalcy, wanted to sink his teeth into the feeling of comfort he had gotten a mere taste of so badly and never let go, and if the world won't give him that, then he'll just have to carve that space himself.

And so, Jeff kept coming back.

It would take a good while until Toby warms up to Jeff again, both because of his reluctance to and because the both of them aren't exactly ones to stay in one place for too long, though Jeff is the one that makes sporadic appearances due to being- y'know- a known serial killer on the run.

Still, Toby does eventually grow closer to him. Especially when A) Jeff is a persistent asshole who won't miss a single second whenever he's around to visit Toby, even actively searching for him when he has the time to and getting into trouble as he does, and B) Toby just... can't bring himself to actually kill the other man. He's hated him for so, so long, but in every instance he had caught him off guard and attacked, Toby would stand, frozen in place before he could even finish the other man off.

The first time Toby had attacked Jeff led him to rsalise that something had happened to his best friend. Something bad, and something big. but God knows Jeff shouldn't be talking about how much someone had changed when he can barely even recognise the thing that stares back at him in the mirror.

His own hesitance annoyed the proxy to hell and back at first, but eventually Jeff's persistence and a lack of self preservation paid off, and Toby- either feeling too worn out to even bother, or was feeling particularly generous that one night- gave in just this once.

Then he gave in again when prompted at Jeff's next visit.

And again with the next.

And again.

And then one night, maybe, he's come to the realisation that he's started to miss the pale, deformed rat of a man who seems to know Toby better than even he himself does, to miss the ghost that had been haunting him all this time.

[littlestarbigsky]

hey yall so i have covid (im feeling okay! my symptoms have been pretty mild :) so i’m about to have so much time to write- anyways here’s pt. 2 of this fic (it’s not technically a chapter fic but it’s also based off the idea of pony w breathing problems :)

so here’s darry helping pony with a breathing treatment, slight emetophobia warning (nothing graphic but it’s there)

“alright, kiddo, just try one more time for me, in and out, okay?”

darry knew if he couldn’t get pony under control soon, they’d probably have to go to the hospital. aside from them definitely not being able to afford hospital care on top of all of pony’s already very expensive treatment regiment, four trips to the hospital since september would definitely prompt a visit from social services. darry knew there was a chance they would take his brothers away, and even though it killed him to admit it, they’d be perfectly within their rights to do it.

the breath pony dragged in didn’t ease darry’s racing mind at all, especially not after he’d already used his inhaler twice.

it had all started with a small head cold, nothing out of the ordinary, especially since it was still february, but as all things did nowadays with pony, the illness had gone straight to his lungs. darry could hear him wheezing just standing up cutting vegetables for dinner, he was using his inhaler much more, and that dry, chesty, cough just didn’t seem to want to go away.

soda was normally the one who could take care of this, he knew all the tricks to get pony’s breathing calmed back down, but he was working a double and he made extra if he stayed after closing, so darry had no choice but to hunker down and prepare as much as he could. darry had initially brought pony into the bathroom and turned on the shower, the knob turned as hot as it would go, hoping that the steam would help with the cough, even if it was just for a few minutes.

at first, it had seemed like it was working, but when pony’s coughing fits started, it seemed like they never stopped. darry tried to get them under control, he really did, using all of their tricks he had already learned: deep pressure hugs, putting vapo-rub on his chest and neck, changing pony’s position about 100 times, nothing was working.

after an hour, he was seriously beginning to worry, sitting on the bathroom floor with a wheezing ponyboy leaning back against his chest, wrapped in a blanket. darry opened up the bathroom cupboard next to them and pulled out pony’s nebulizer.

“darry…” pony whined quietly, and darry felt him go tense.

“i know, honey, but we gotta get all this coughing under control,” darry ran a hand through pony’s hair, digging around in the cabinet for the medicine to put in the machine. “if this doesn’t calm down we gotta go to the hospital. and i’m gonna put more of that vapo-rub on you, that helped a little bit earlier.”

pony didn’t say anything. darry did what he could to convince himself it was because pony was conceding, however out of character that was for him. it was easier to tell himself that than think that he wasn’t complaining because he didn’t have the spare breath to.

he got the nebulizer set up and plugged in, all the while keeping pony leaned against him.

“alright, this should be good to go. can you sit up against the wall for me, little man? i gotta get the vapo-rub.”

pony shifted back and took the mouthpiece from darry as he turned it on, crawling across the bathroom floor to the edge of the bathtub where he had set up all of the supplies they may need. he picked up the tub of vapo-rub and shifted back over to pony, who was slumped against the wall, pulling in sad, short breaths.

“this might be a little cold, kiddo,” darry said softly. pony’s t-shirt had been balled up against the door so it wouldn’t stick to the vapo-rub earlier, so darry just pushed the blanket out of the way. they both pretended not to notice darry trying to feel pony’s heartbeat as he rubbed the gel over his chest. pony squeezed his eyes shut and darry felt his chest contract as he started coughing.

it felt like it would never stop once he got going, he dropped the nebulizer and pulled the blanket tighter around himself as he coughed uncontrollably. all darry could do was pull his little brother into his chest and pray that it would end soon. he knew how much pony hated the hospital, that they would just poke him and give him meds that made him feel funny and tired, but anything had to be better than this.

“i know, it’s okay, it’ll be over soon,” darry comforted, holding pony tight to him.

after a few more minutes, pony gagged and for a second it seemed like it was going to stop, but darry knew what was coming. he wasn’t sure how, but something in him knew to move pony as fast as he could. pony weakly pushed himself up onto his knees and threw up into the toilet.

it was miserable while it was happening. when he was done, he leaned back against the bathtub and pulled his knees up to his chest. darry slid over and pulled pony back into his arms, and as soon as the security of darry had wrapped itself around pony, the tears started.

“hey, don’t cry now, baby, i know that was lousy, but it’s over,” darry reached over and grabbed pony’s cup of water and held it for him as he drank feebly from the straw. “small sips, okay?”

even though it killed darry that pony had gotten sick, at least he wasn’t coughing anymore. he was able to get down some of his water and washed the foul taste out of his mouth.

“listen,” darry whispers, resting his cheek on pony’s head, one grounding hand on his chest while the other rubbed circles over his back. “can you try to do a little more of your treatment?”

pony sniffled, but nodded eventually. darry shuffled them both back over to the nebulizer, cradling pony in his lap and holding the mouthpiece for him as he breathed in the medicine.

pony was dead asleep when soda finally cracked open the bathroom door, darry holding their baby brother to his chest, the breathing treatment almost finished. maybe it was the blanket he was wrapped up in, or maybe it was because he was all curled up in a ball against their brother who was pretty big by any standard, but he looked so small. grease washed out of his hair, his skin pale and clammy, and their big brother rocking him gently, keeping him asleep while the medicine worked its way into his aching lungs.

“need me to take over?” soda asked quietly, and darry looked up at him.

darry shook his head, “i got him for now, go get changed and shower. i'm gonna bring him to sleep with me tonight.”

soda nodded, "i'll put away the nebulizer, you get him to bed."

once the treatment had finished, darry scooped pony up and carried him the few steps down the hall to his bedroom, gently setting him down on the bed before changing his own clothes. he slid into bed, pulling up the covers and tucking pony against him, his little wheezes finally starting to lighten up.

it wasn't perfect, but maybe it didn't have to be. darry could feel pony's heart beating and the deep breaths he was pulling in, and as much as he hated that pony needed a breathing treatment to get him to that point, it was worth it. if it meant that he didn't have to wake up coughing and not able to catch his breath. maybe his lungs would never really recover, but they knew how to get him better when they needed to. it was gonna be okay.

darry was almost alseep when soda quietly opened the door, hair soft and damp after his shower and dressed a pair of darry's old sweatpants, cuffed twice at the bottom because of how long they were. darry waved him over, and soda smiled, piling in next to his brothers and wrapping himself around pony’s other side.

“he sleeping?” soda whispered, darry barely nodded, exhaustion taking over. “good, don’t tell him i did this.”

soda pressed a gentle kiss to pony’s head and laid back down, already feeling drowsy next to his two sleeping brothers.

[themainreactor]

"Please, don't leave me... I'm sorry."

In which, Akaza finds you, a lady that brings the thought of his Koyuki back to him. He grows an unhealthy obsession with you and the memories of the beautiful woman haunting his mind. He can't lose her, not again, so he does everything in his power to make sure that he doesn't lose you. Whether it be killing someone or watching you all hours of the night, he'll do it.

How does one know when they've won?

Well the first question is, what did they win? What was the goal that they believe they've achieved to begin with? Then they have to cover all the bases, make sure that they do everything correctly in order to win.

Even the smallest of things that lead to one big accomplishment need to be done as best as they can so that it all fits together perfectly. Akaza knows, his one and only goal is to get stronger, it always was and always has been.

Well, he always thought it was.

Until he saw you.

He can't remember what he was doing that led him to you. He might have been killing demon slayers, maybe he was on an errand for Lord Muzan.

All he knows is that his gaze rested upon your scared expression that night.

He hadn't done anything, it's not like he was standing over a dead body with blood on him, he's not even sure that he moved in a way that should have scared you. Maybe it was his appearance, after all, he didn't look anything like a normal human.

Yet you didn't try and run away from him like most people did, you just fearfully stared at him. It was as if you had internally given up already and expected him to kill you. He would have let you go if you tried to escape, if you chose to run now he wouldn't hurt you.

It was only then that he noticed something else in your eyes besides some unknown crippling fear. Curiosity.

Dare he says that you had a show of admiration in your gaze, a fascination for what you didn't understand.

Koyuki....

... Koyuki? Who was that?

Akaza's brow furrowed, replaying the faintest memory of a woman in his mind, her beautiful yet hazy face was from a dream, or maybe a dream of a dream.

He looked upon you for a moment longer, indulging his mind for the female that didn't try to run. You reminded him so much of the woman from long, long ago. He can't remember who the woman is, but he can feel the love he held for her in the past tightening his chest.

He can't help but stare at you. He's not sure what makes him want to walk closer to you, possibly allow himself to touch you, hold your face, a face he thought he had long forgotten. He silently cursed himself but refused to move, he doesn't know why he wants to focus onto your eyes as if he was studying something.

He hated studying.

"Run." Akaza finally orders, noticing how you flinched before a show of uncertainty embraced your expression. But you didn't hesitate, you obliged and did what everyone else normally did.

Everyone ran from danger. It was in their human nature to do so, especially from a demon, their natural predators for about a thousand years.

But why hadn't you ran until he told you to? He didn't understand and yet it intrigued him to no end.

He needed to know you. He needed to see you, so he could see her again.

And so days went by, days turned to weeks and then turned into months of him just following you. To the point where he knew what you liked, the things you did, the people you talked to.

Akaza couldn't help but follow and learn everything there was to know about you, it confused him still because he didn't believe that this was his first intention. He had just been curious.

He wanted to know just what type of person you were, to have the audacity... No, the gal, to stay still that night, to look at him with a silent interest. To remind him of someone, the one and the only in his past life.

His Koyuki.

So he mindlessly followed you. Stalking was the right term he believes, though he would rather not call it that. Unlike Douma, he felt at least some level of shame when it came to things like this.

It made him feel uncomfortable that he'd somehow let himself become a creep. He would much rather call it a romantic walk with an unknowing person, though he supposed that was too long of a name.

Of course he could only do it in the dead of night, he couldn't follow you around in the sun and it makes him want to find the blue spider lily more earnestly. He had almost died on way too many occasions just watching you right before the sun rises, scaring him into hiding as to not get burned.

Thankfully, you seem to be out a lot at night, usually just doing your job. For a bit he almost felt bad about you working so hard and so late at night, but the few times that he'd see your accomplished smile forbade him to pity you even with the exhaustion that followed after.

When you are inside of your house at night instead, he'll find somewhere to perch himself on, whether it be on one of the neighbors houses or the outside of your windowsill, he'd watch you as you did what you pleased with your fleeting but simply precious life.

Akaza has almost convinced himself to enter your room while you were asleep more than once so that he could be closer, nearer to you, maybe hold you in his arms. Key word, almost convinced himself to enter your room more than once, he still thinks about it.

It makes him feel weak, you make him feel weak.

Each time the thought occurred, he quickly scolded himself, not wanting to scare you. He wouldn't want you to think that your life was so fickle that he could just enter your place of safety and comfort.

Though, It was fickle, he could just enter your place of safety if he really wanted to.

He later found out more about you, more of what you liked and what you didn't. He found out you were quite strict with yourself when it came to what you did around other people compared to when you were alone.

When you felt safe, you were outgoing, you were more outwardly passionate with your life when you were alone. You only felt safe because you didn't know he was watching, he didn't mind though.

He also found out rather quickly that you could paint and cook as that is what you did for the most part. When you were really bored, you dared to occupy yourself with things that men did like learning how to fight, which almost made him laugh.

He can remember the first time that he watched you, for the first week you painted someone on a canvas, it wasn't a big one, about the size of a book, one that didn't take much effort to paint on.

Yet you treated it with such care that it made him feel conflicted about why he liked watching you. Whoever it was took up so much of your time and rest that it made him jealous.

Your hands, gentle and careful when using your paintbrushes. You confidently creating whatever you deemed fit for the canvas while still choosing to keep it hidden instead of showing your hard work off to others.

That perplexed him.

Gyokko would have loved this passionate display of craftsmanship, of course Akaza thinks that with sarcasm, he'd never let the demon know you were alive to begin with. Or he'd have to kill him.

Strangely enough, it seemed like you tried your best to keep everything that you were proud of hidden, whether it be out of embarrassment or to keep your humble stature he wouldn't know.

What baffled Akaza even more in the week that he watched you paint the specific canvas when you had the time, was that during the end of it, he realized that the person you were painting was him.

Him?

You tried to paint him from memory.

He couldn't fathom it, why? A woman that just by chance laid eyes on him, chose to try and remember him rather than forget his existence. When he realized it was him, he waited until you had left the room to enter through the window and look at the painting more thoroughly.

It looked a lot like him, though of course his demon form. You painted him the same way you had probably seen him, late at night with few lights, shadows etched on his face and the environment around him.

It almost scared him just how accurate your painting was, after all, why would you try to remember a demon like him? But it warmed his heart. So after the painting, he had decided he would work up the courage to face you, so that you could see him again. Maybe paint him again.

He found himself watching you every spare minute he could. Your tranquility, the way your eyes lit up with emotion each time something interested you. The way you smiled at the smallest of sweet things. He couldn't comprehend what the feeling was.

He watched you to the point that he didn't even realize he was hungry, unintentionally starving himself, to which Muzan caught onto one meeting and questioned him about it.

Akaza wasn't sure how to answer at first, so he just claimed he lost track of time, which was the truth in a sense and Muzan let it go.

That scared him, that he was so infatuated with you that he actually had forgotten to eat. You kind of scared him. Which brings him back to a question.

How does one know when they've won?

Well... Normally you have to figure out what you've won first to determine whether or not you have actually won anything.

Akaza thought he was losing at the moment, that he couldn't get to the top and this was as far as he'd go. All he had to do was kill the last two demons in his way, Kokushibo and Doma and he'd be first, but he found that to be exceedingly difficult.

But now, he's not sure if this sick obsession with you is just another place he should win at or not. You would now be his new goal, he could care less about becoming stronger right now, not when he was so close to remembering her.

So he continued his nights of sightseeing, still working up the courage to let you know he was watching you before he saw him. A man that had bumped into you and then hung out around you just to claim he wanted to be like a mentor to you of sorts.

Akaza knew better though, the way the man looked at you said otherwise and as reserved as you were, your innocence unfortunately gave you a disadvantage in protecting yourself.

Akaza immediately felt anger towards the man, hating him with a passion. It wasn't because of the fact that he was flirting with you, oh no, it wasn't even because of how he placed his hand on the small of your back right near your ass and basically hinted at how much he'd love to have you at his mercy.

Not even that.

But because after Akaza took a little detour to investigate this man and he found out that the grown ass son of a bitch that wanted your virginity was already married.

He had a bunch of kids along with a caring wife, but he was a drunken bastard that didn't take care of them.

Even if he were to leave his wife and marry you, there was no guarantee that he would be faithful to you. He gave the man some time, he waited for him to do the right thing for the span of one week. But after that, Akaza cut off his life as quickly as he had entered into yours.

Akaza couldn't even force himself to eat the man because of how grossed out he was from how the man acted with his own family. So he just left the body for the authorities to find and they believed that he died in a bar fight.

It was better for the man's family anyway, the only one that mourned him was his wife, and she only cried for a little bit, the rest of the kids didn't seem to mind so much. It didn't matter, he killed men in worse ways than when he killed that one.

Akaza wasn't jealous, he genuinely would understand if you wanted to marry someone. He would understand if you wanted to be with a human, after all that was the normal thing to do and you didn't even know that he was watching you.

He saw how men looked at you so he knew that it wouldn't truly be hard for you to find someone to marry, but he was smart enough to identify which look was which. Which was was an actual look of a man admiring you for who you were and which one was a corrupted man, filled with a deep rooted lust.

But he also couldn't help but want you to stay alone, he wanted to keep you for himself. He didn't want to lose you.

But after a couple more weeks of watching you, killing men that wanted to harm you and forcing himself to leave the men that respected you alone (even though he also had a strong urge to kill them too), he finally worked up the courage to see you again.

Well, he worked up the courage to be near you, you didn't know he was there though so he's not sure that counted.

He had quietly entered your house through one of the windows he forced open, making sure not to break the glass or make any noise that would disturb you since you had just recently gotten home.

He let himself down on your wooden floor, taking a few steps out of the room that he realized was the kitchen before entering the living room. He slowly stepped, making sure not to wake up the dog.

He wasn't entirely sure what he was doing, what was he supposed to say? It had been three months since he first saw you, that night when he only spoke one word to you.

What in the world was he going to say? He didn't have a clue what you liked in men, he only knew that you thought most men in general looked pretty and he only got that from eavesdropping. It was funny how his stalking didn't seem to help with the information in that category yet.

His ears perked at the sound of humming and his chest tightened at the thought of seeing you. How would he know that you wouldn't try to run off? You might just tell the police that some demon or crazy looking monster had entered your house.

Of course he could deal with anyone that tried to harm him, heck, he could just kill all the people in this village and then take you for himself. But for some reason he didn't want to do that either. Would you even give him a chance to begin with? He was so nervous he felt like throwing up.

He silently followed the humming, entering a hallway before crouching down on the floor. The door to your room was closed and he didn't want to open it, maybe it would have been better if he came in through that window like he normally tried to do.

He couldn't give up now, this was the farthest he had gotten himself near you.

He listened to your humming, allowing your voice to calm him down. Your voice was beautiful to him, one that was unique to you and he's still not sure why you remind him of his Koyuki. All he knows is that when he sees you, he feels closer to her.

He barely opened the door, quickly moving away and ducking when you stopped humming to look at your door.

Shoot.

You eyed it for a moment before chalking up the door movement as wind, after all you didn't have the best or strongest doors.

You went back to humming, hanging up your kimono before blowing out one of the lamp lights.

It was darker, it was quiet, you suddenly felt something moving.

Another gush of wind appeared and in an instant the other lamp was out. You would have freaked out if you knew what it was.

Who were you kidding? You were freaking out right now.

Quickly you peaked around the corner, forcing yourself to look in the hallway before looking through your room for the source of the wind.

You weren't really scared but you felt like you were going crazy. You almost thought you saw a silhouette of someone in the shadows.

Safe to say, you didn't sleep that night.

Now, did Akaza run away? Yes, yes he did. But at least he made some progress. Gosh, he just knew that Kokushibo would look down on him for cowering in fear from a mere WOMAN.

He couldn't help it though.

Make no mistake, he didn't run out of fear, he ran because of you and he admitted that to himself no matter how embarrassing it was to do so.

He continued to stare at you from a distance, peaking from one of your neighbors roofs while silently hyperventilating. He could see the way you were sweating, how you looked around while holding a pillow, as if smacking an intruder with something that soft would protect you.

He almost did it, he almost touched your hand but he couldn't get himself to do it. What would he even say after that? Most people don't touch each other in their first interaction.

He waited another week, testing himself each time while entering your house whether you were at work or not. Slowly but surely he was getting himself closer to you, you never did see him even though half the time he would be right behind you but he didn't mind.

Finally one day he couldn't handle it anymore, it had been four months since he first saw you and he desperately wanted to hold you in his own arms, protect you, help you in any way he could.

He had thought swirling around in his mind, thought he knew he only had because he was a demon. He wanted you to be his, his and his alone.

No, you were his. You'd be his until the day you died and he wanted you to only belong to him. Whether you knew it or not.

Heck, he never wanted you to die either, he'd bring you into the demon world soon just to make you one and stay with him.

He wanted you to know you were his.

But for some reason he also wanted you to want him. It wouldn't be worth it, for him to take you and make you his own if you didn't want it. He would hate that, if you stayed with him only out of fear.

He felt like he had asthma, he couldn't breathe properly, he might pass out. This was almost similar to whenever he forced himself to face Muzan. You were nowhere near as strong as Muzan, you were just a beautiful human and nothing more.

So why was he so worried?

He harshly shook the thought away, hyping himself to enter your room. You were already asleep because he couldn't bear the thought of talking to you just yet.

He wasn't surprised that you had fallen asleep so early either, he had come as soon as the sun went down and you apparently stayed working almost three hours after you were supposed to leave.

With your dedication, Akaza's sure you'd be a strong demon if someday you allowed him to turn you into one. He would like to force you to become a demon, but he won't do it against your will.

He opened the window like he always did, slowly entering in as to not make the floorboards creek before closing the window behind him. As soon as he entered, he was graced with your sleeping presence, your quiet snoring and tired expression, you were even drooling a bit and it made him want to smile.

But he didn't, he was just focused on not waking you up. He stood there for quite some time.

What was he supposed to do now anyway?

Why did he always ask that same question when he came in here?

He could just talk to you while you were sleeping, he always did that, maybe give you a kiss on the forehead for once, after all, you slept pretty hard.

He could make you his.

Akaza punched his nose immediately when the thought occurred, so hard that he could hear the recoil of his neck in his head. His body healed the wound almost instantly but he wasn't worried about that in the slightest.

"I know you never hear me... I suppose it doesn't matter anyway." He starts, talking to your sleeping form as he chooses to sit on the floor.

"It's Akaza... Y'know, you're interesting..."

"..."

The silence was annoyingly unbearable and yet, it made him feel more comfortable about being this close to you.

Akaza sighed, leaning his forehead against the mattress as he tried to continue talking. He couldn't think of anything, he really wanted to find a way to talk to you someday when you were actually awake.

"You kind of make me embarrassed, but one day, I want to talk to you normally." He continued, lifting his head up again to look at you. "I like your painting of me too... I tell you that all the time though don't I?"

He chuckled a little, watching as you just stayed still.

Until you moved.

Crap.

Akaza jumped up, about ready to run out the window from your movement because why wouldn't he? He was nowhere near ready to let you actually see him.

Then he realized you were just stretching so he didn't need to run.

Aw, that was cute. You looked like those dumb little orange cats that he sees in peoples windowsills that's always stretching like they've actually worked at all.

"Don't scare me like that." Akaza grumbled as if you'd reply. Though he could imagine, if he was a human that you might giggle at him.

If he was a human, you'd treat him normally, he wouldn't have to sneak anywhere just to see you either.

Life was confusing wasn't it?

He's been alive for a long time, but you've only been alive for a while. Did that mean that his infatuation with you was wrong? It didn't feel wrong.

It felt so right.

You were his Koyuki, you had to be. Sure, you were you but you reminded him so much of her that it hurt him.

He could still barely remember her.

All he knows is that he had her, and then he lost her.

No, not again. He won't lose her again. He won't lose you

Akaza looked down at you again, slowly moving to sit on the bed at the thought.

You weren't his Koyuki, that much was certain.

But you were just so damn... Perfect. It didn't matter to him that you might never love him, you were his and he didn't care.

He couldn't lose you again.

"Sorry." He finally spoke, his voice sounding like a whisper when he turned back to your sleeping figure. Something got a hold of him and without thinking, he moved closer to hug you.

By the grace of God, you haven't woken up yet, but he isn't sure why he's so attached to you when you clearly aren't the same person as the woman in his past.

"I'm sorry I didn't protect you." He murmured, apologizing really to her and not you. He was protecting you, that's why he had been watching you so diligently. He isn't even sure why he's saying all this, it's not like he could remember everything from his past.

And yet, the words that kept escaping his mouth just came naturally. A silent plea to bring something back that he never truly was able to have.

It hurt so damn bad and yet her couldn't stop smiling. He just held onto you as gently as one could whilst trying to show some semblance of a human emotion. Was it relief that he found you, someone that was somewhat close to Koyuki? Probably not.

Grief. He doesn't normally feel grief, he can sympathize, but he hasn't felt guilty about something in his past. He couldn't even remember anything about his past before until he saw you.

"I'm sorry, don't leave me... I'm so sorry." He finally cried, one drop and then another spilled from his eyes and rolled down his cheek. He quickly wiped them away before they dropped on you or the mattress but he couldn't stop it.

He let go and started moving away from you, exiting the house entirely through the window. He'd much rather not cry in front of you, even if you were sleeping.

You are the most beautiful woman he's ever had the honor of being near. He doesn't understand why but he's seen you, he knows how kind and selfless you are.

He knows how you are, he knows his Koyuki.

You were his too, you had to be. He needed you to be, so he would do everything in his power to protect you, even if you never did see him again.

He'd be your secret protector, then maybe, just maybe, he'd be able to atone for the terrible things he's done in his life.

Did he even deserve that? He doesn't know, all he knows is that he'll be happy with whatever you allow him to be.

If you saw him someday and chose to love him, he'd be pleased. If not, then he'd just make sure you were safe. If he could never work up the courage, he'd still hum the same tune you always hummed alongside you outside the window.

So has he won yet?

That wasn't really a question was it? There wasn't a point in winning anyway, he didn't have an end goal with you in all of this either. He didn't cover all the bases or make sure everything was in his favor.

They say that the smallest of things that lead to one big accomplishment need to be done as best as they can. So that it all fits together perfectly.

He knows that, his one and only goal is to get stronger, it always had and always would have been. If he didn't see you and you didn't see him that night.

So that answer to that question was that he's not sure and quite frankly, doesn't care. After all, he'd probably die from a demon slayer someday.

So maybe winning didn't matter.

Maybe he didn't have to win or be the strongest.

But who knows? He sure doesn't. This odd and probably unhealthy love he had for you was difficult to understand sometimes.

[ca-suffit]

i'm often mad when loustat fan said Louis should have killed antoinette himself bc Lestat wanted just to be desir and confident. But it's not true. Lestat stay for decade with Antoinette and the point is it didn't matter if she lived or not because had Louis killed Antoinette, Lestat would picked another person. Louis understand it well and I'm tired of the fandom wanted Louis to always prove himself in whatever Lestat put up on him. Antoinette might be a white woman, I feel like her worst hater are white women... which is weird bc they are using her whitness as a way to hate her. I think they hate her bc she's a woman. Because Lestat's whitness and the fact he's a cis guy never bother his fandom. I can't take those view on Antoinette seriously. I agree she's not an interesting character, just Lestat's pawn. The only upsetting thing is Antoinette, as a white woman, had some agency. She had her own income, her reputation but she throw it away in favor of a man who never give a shit about her. Yes, I understand she was manipulated but it sting. If she didn't become a vampire, and just stay in relationship with Lestat, she would have turn like Serena Joy in the Handmaid's Tale (from the Book who was a soprano).

Antoinette is hard for parts of the fandom to come to terms with bcuz fandoms are mostly made up of white women. It hits closer to home for those characters to exist and be shitty rather than other characters that are more removed from how ppl personally identify.

I come and go seeing comments in all directions about Antoinette and it's bcuz she's a white woman who was complicit in antiblackness bcuz she expected to benefit from it herself in the end. She didn't and it called attention to why she didn't and made ppl reflect on that and feel uncomfortable. It is meant to be a sad story but also reflective and critical of how white women often move in the world.

Louis never could have killed her bcuz he knew that's what Lestat wanted and it was one of the ways he retained any semblance of v mild control in the relationship. As u wrote, Louis doesn't have access to the same protections as any of the white ppl around him, so he's learned how to survive otherwise using other means, even as a vampire. Lestat knows Antoinette upsets Louis and Claudia acts as his mouth piece on it multiple times (illustrating the burden that children often take on with dysfunctional parents, as well as the emotional labor often piled on black girls/women). Lestat keeps waiting for Louis to vocally tell him himself to kill her and he won't, bcuz he doesn't want to verbalize his feelings like that. He's protective of his emotions and feels he's been dismissed a lot on the few instances he's said things out loud to Lestat, so why keep telling him this hurts him when it's obvious?? Why react at all?? It's the only way he can protect his pride and also dig at Lestat's own insecurities at the same time. Lestat and other white characters are used to being loud and abrasive to get reactions, but that's not something the other characters who aren't white can v safely do in return, which is why it's a much rarer occurrence and typically followed by a great consequence to them.

[babymetaldoll]

Are you mine? - Chapter six: "You killed my father, prepare to die."

Summary: It's a sad moment for the Reids: Gideon has been murdered. This is one of Spencer's darkest moments, but this time, he doesn't have to deal with it alone.  Warnings: Cursing, Criminal Minds spoilers of season 10 Ep 13 "Nelson Sparrow." It's just sad, everything is sad.  Word count: 8.405 words A/N: Hello!! So, who do you think Spencer felt about missing his daughter's first Halloween? I'm sure it was a low blow. What do you think their family disguise was about? I'm thinking Doctor Who, with Raven as a tiny Tardis. 

Series' Masterlist - Author's masterlist

Previous chapter | Next chapter (post date: October 2nd)

Spencer’s point of view

For a few months, things were normal for all of us. Well, as normal as they can be considering we worked at the BAU hunting serial killers week after week. (Y/N) and Kate got along incredibly well, and I could see how much she enjoyed spending time with her. She still missed Prentiss, but knowing she was just a phone call away made things easier this time.

Leaving our baby back home every time we had to go out of town for a case was still incredibly painful. Still, Sofia, Lu, Mikey, and Frank were always there with Raven, which helped us stay focused on work. Honestly, we wouldn’t be able to do it without them.

One thing made us incredibly miserable back then: We missed Raven’s first Halloween because we had to solve a case in San Diego. An unsub was kidnapping kids on October 31st, and though I knew our baby couldn’t go out trick and treating yet, it was heart-wrenching knowing we had missed her first Halloween. We had a family custom planned, and though we wore it the entire 1st of November as we stayed at home, carving pumpkins and watching the "Charlie Brown Halloween special" with her, it just wasn’t the same.

- “I wish we could promise her this is the only celebration we'll miss because of work.”- (Y/N) whispered as we cuddled in bed that night. - “But we both know that’d be a lie.”

- “I just hope next year things will be different.”- I whispered and kissed (Y/N)’s forehead as she snuggled closer.

- “I hope we don’t miss Christmas.”

We had some weird cases during that year. We even had a female unsub who ruined every fairy tale I read to my daughter. She was sure she was Cinderella and kept looking for her prince charming, killing every man who didn’t live up to her fantasy in the way. To catch her, I had to pretend to be a prince, carry one of her shoes like a crystal slipper, and nearly propose. That ended up being the only way she could go with us willingly.

I will never forget (Y/N)’s face as I approached the unsub in a cemetery, without any vest or gun. The whole idea was Hotch’s and I didn’t think it could work, but it turned out that that poor girl was so out of reality that she indeed thought I was her prince charming.

- “Not fair!”- my wife argued as we drove to the cemetery, where Garcia had located her and her newest victim.- “You are supposed to be my prince charming, no one else’s. And why did you take off your wedding right?”- and she pouted and whined, making me chuckle.

- “Come on, chipmunk! You know I am your and only yours. I’m just trying to get this unsub with the least use of force possible. And if she sees the ring she’ll know I’m lying.”

- “One weird movement and I’m gonna take her down.”- (Y/N) replied and I smiled, somehow proud of how jealous she was under the circumstances.

- “Do me a favor kids and stop being so freaking sweet when all of us can hear you.”- Rossi argued in my ear from the SUV right behind ours.

- “Never.”- my wife quickly replied from the back seat and I suppressed a chuckle.

- “Should I remind them I’m in the same car with them?”- JJ joked and (Y/N) smiled right away. It took some of the tension off, considering I knew my wife was upset I wasn’t wearing a vest to face the unsub. But I knew I didn’t need one, she had my back.

When we walked to the unsub, she had a pair of gardening scissors against her poor victim’s neck, and she was about to kill him, so I hurried and grabbed one of the evidence shoes we had from a bad and tried to get her attention, as (Y/N) hid behind a bush, pointing the unsub with a gun, and JJ did the same from behind a tree.

- “Excuse me. May I approach?”- I said, exactly as the Prince Charming did in the bedtime story I had read to Raven before we took off for that case.

- “Who are you? Go away!”- the unsub yelled back at me, and I walked slower, raising my hands, showing her I was not a threat.

- “Please, just give me the chance to speak. I've looked for so long.”

- “What? What are you talking about?”

- “I've searched this entire city trying to find the right person. Are you the right person?”- I made a short pause as I watched the guy she was about to kill move from her side. Her eyes were focused on me, so I continued speaking. -“The dance, the other evening. Do you remember?”

- “The dance?”- she stood up, dropped the weapon, and walked to me. She was indeed defenseless. Poor girl, she was actually sure she was Cinderella, and after knowing her background story, I could only hope she’d find help.

- “I met the most beautiful girl I had ever seen in my life. We danced the whole night, and then… She was gone. But she left this behind.”- I showed her the shoe and walked a few steps closer to her- “May I?”

And so, I kneeled before her and put on her shoe. She gasped and tears filled her eyes as she stared at me with a big smile and I kissed her hand, like Prince Charming usually does in books, to seal the deal.

- “I brought the carriage.”- it was the only way I could get her into the SUV and into custody.

- “You did?

- “It's waiting for us.”

She seemed so surprised and excited, I didn’t even have to push her, she held my arm as we started walking. I looked at my wife for a second, still hiding behind that bush, still pointing her gun at the unsub, and cut her a short smile, trying to help her relax, until she finally lowered the pistol and smiled back at me.

We had a bunch of crazy cases that year, but nothing, not even the hardest mysteries we’d had to crack, could have ever prepared me for that phone call and the drive in the middle of the night to Gideon’s cabin.

He was dead. Murdered. And it felt like a part of my chest was empty. He was the closest thing I've ever had to a father, and though we hadn’t talked in years after his departure from the FBI, I knew he was out there, being happy, living his life away from the murderers and cases.

But now he was gone, and we had to finish whoever had done that to him and make him pay.

(Y/N) held my hand the entire drive to his cabin, after dropping Raven with her mother. I didn’t speak much, and she didn’t push me either. I just let the tears fall from my eyes. When we got to the cabin, JJ, Hotch, Kate, and Rossi were already there. I couldn’t say a word as Gideon’s body lay on the ground, covered with a white sheet, like any other corpse we had seen at a crime scene before. Only this time, it was personal.

I tried not to cry, but my chin quivered and (Y/N) quickly held my hand tight. JJ looked at me with a sorry glance and I locked my eyes on the sheet on the floor, still trying to process the fact that it was Gideon’s corpse.

No one said a word for a few minutes. They were all broken hearted, just like me. The record player kept spinning, after playing the last song he ever heard. The chess board was untouched, waiting for him to come back and play. Garcia and Morgan walked in after a few minutes and stood next to us, also shocked and deeply affected.

- “Are you sure?”- Penelope asked Hotch, still not believing it was actually Gideon lying dead in front of us. Hotch nodded and kept his eyes on Garcia as he replied.

- “It’s Gideon.”

That was enough for me. I had to step out of that cabin. I couldn’t deal with that kind of grief. My wife walked behind me and hugged me as I finally broke in tears, and sobbed against her neck as he held me close to her.

- “It’s ok honey, let it all out.”- she whispered and caressed my hair as I cried my heart out. I couldn’t stop. I felt a hole had been dug in the middle of my chest. How could Gideon be dead? How? Who killed him? I needed to find that asshole and make him pay. I knew I was sad and emotional, but the need for revenge was growing fast inside me.

- “How could… who would…”

I couldn’t finish sentences as I cried and held (Y/N) closer to me. Closer as possible. You don’t expect your family to be murdered. And Gideon was like family to me. We hadn’t talked in over eight years, but he was still one of the most important people in my life. He helped me grow, and he taught me so much when I first joined the FBI. He trusted my intelligence, he got everybody to call me a doctor.

How does a guy so smart, so bright, get murdered? What happened? What went wrong? How couldn’t he notice something was going on? Gideon was a legend in the FBI, and to me, he was one of the smartest guys I had ever met. How could that have happened to him?

- “We are gonna solve this.”- my wife whispered and kept caressing my hair. - “We are gonna find out what happened and we are gonna catch whoever killed him.”

I couldn’t answer, all I managed to do was nod as a reply and felt (Y/N) holding me, trying to keep the pieces of my heart together.

JJ walked out of the cabin a few minutes later. She stared at me as I did my best to stop sobbing. I wasn’t afraid to be vulnerable in front of my friends and family- and that’s what the team had always been to me- but I knew I had to put my grief aside and start working as a profiler, ‘cos we needed to solve that case.

- “I am so sorry, Spence.”- JJ whispered and walked to me. (Y/N) unwrapped her arms from my body, making me shiver, missing her warmth immediately. JJ hugged me for a moment, but it wasn’t as comforting as (Y/N)’s arms. Not mean to compare, but it just didn’t do much for me. However, I hugged my friend tight and sighed, thinking it had to be hard for her as well. Gideon wasn’t just my team partner. It was everybody’s, and we were all grieving in the same way. I couldn’t be selfish, that wasn’t about me.

- “Do we know anything?”- (Y/N) whispered and JJ shook her head. She moved and hugged my wife for a moment and I cleared my throat, trying to compose myself.

- “Forensic are on their way to remove the body. Hotch is calling the family.”

And somehow that sentence hit me. It was hard for us to know Gideon had been murdered, but I couldn't even begin to imagine how his family was going to feel. He had a son named Stephen. They weren’t close, that I knew, but that doesn’t mean they hated each other. It’s hard having a family with the job we had. (Y/N) and I knew that very well now. It was double work being present at home and keeping what we saw at work out of the house. But giving our daughter the best we had was our priority. I never wanted her to feel she wasn’t as important as what we did for a living, because she is the world to us.

Morning came sooner than I expected. Somehow it felt like only minutes had passed since we arrived at that cabin. I had only been there once before, the day Gideon left the team and I found his letter for me, saying goodbye. The only memory I had of that place wasn’t better than that moment I was living.

(Y/N) talked with the team as she held my hand. She was the functional one in our relationship at that minute. She knew I needed time to process it all, and she let me. But never, not even once, did she stop holding my hand.

A team of criminalistic took Gideon’s body from his cabin and I just stood there, staring at the scene, unable to move. I couldn’t even say a word. I just glued my eyes to the ground, reliving all the memories I had with Jason in my mind over and over again. I remembered when I first joined the team and we had our first case. He picked me to be on the team even when I was still very young. I was the younger agent to join the BAU, and he trusted my knowledge and my abilities, even when I didn’t.

Gideon taught me about serial killers and how to catch them. He taught me about chess and life. He even tried to help me get a date with JJ back in the day.

- “Remember how much he hated us hanging out when I joined the team?”- (Y/N) whispered, reading my mind at the moment. It was the first thing she had said to me in at least half an hour and all I managed to do as a reply was to nod.

- “He once called me to his office and told me I was being selfish with the team, ‘cos the way I was influencing you was taking your mind from work, and that you were the smartest of us all.”- my wife confessed after over ten years. I remembered that day exactly, she had walked out of Gideon’s office nearly crying, and I gave her candies to cheer her up.

- “You never let that get in the way of our friendship and I think eventually he realized I was a good influence on you.”- (Y/N) whispered and turned to me. I looked at her puffy eyes and sighed, they were still sparkling, even with all the sadness I could read on them.

- “Though he never got you tickets to go to a concert with me.”- she teased and cut me a warm smile.

- “I love you.”- I replied and wrapped my arms around her. - “Thank you for supporting me.”

- “Always.”- she answered and kissed my lips sweetly. - “Hotch wanted us to go with Morgan and talk with the M.E. but if you don’t want to go…”

- “No, I have to.”- I quickly answered and wiped the few tears that had fallen from my eyes as I spoke.

- “You don’t have to do anything, honey.”

- “I owe it to Gideon. I have to help the team.”

The entire drive to the M.E. we were silent. We took our car and (Y/N) drove us there. Morgan was waiting for us right outside, standing next to his SUV.

- “How are you?”- he asked us and neither of us replied. I looked at him and felt him tapping on my back a few times- “Come on, kids.”- he whispered and walked with us inside. Neither of us wanted to be, that was a fact.

We walked the same halls we had been in a thousand times during the years, and we met with the same team we had worked with a million times. They all knew how hard that was for us, and they were kind enough to try to make it easier.

- “Out of respect, I kept him covered.”- the doctor said as we stood in front of Giden’s dead body.

- “Appreciate that.”- Morgan replied and I felt (Y/N)’s hand squeezing mine.

- “'Cause of death was hypovolemic shock due to ballistic trauma. Three points of entry: left shoulder, right abdominal wall, and right temporal.”- the doctor started and I felt sick immediately.

- “Did he suffer?”- Derek asked the question we were all thinking and I didn’t move my eyes from the sheet. It was slowly covering staining with blood.

- “Not for long, no.”- the forensic quickly responded and as she continued talking, Morgan turned and looked at me, not saying a word. - “His brain stopped working before he was able to process his last breath. After the final shot, he was gone within a fraction of a second.”

- “Would you excuse us, please?”- Morgan’s words sounded like a whisper in that room, and the doctor nodded.

- “Of course.”

- “Thank you.”- as soon as she was out of the room, Derek turned to me and the tears started to fall slowly from my eyes. (Y/N) rubbed my back and kissed my hand as she continued holding it.

- “Did you hear any of that, kid? He didn't suffer.”- I couldn’t even tell him I understood, ‘cos tears filled my eyes and I nearly started sobbing- “Listen to me. Listen to me. I know you are not alone, I know you have your wife to support you, but you two are not going through this on your own. Sometimes you two put up these walls and you block us out, and you can't do that, not right now.”

I know to this day that he was right. Before being in a relationship, me and (Y/N) would do that to the world. We had our own little bubble and we would live there, help each other, and never rely on anyone else. Like we did when she helped me get clean and sober. After we started dating, that bubble became more exclusive. The way we handled Prentiss’ death was just a glimpse of how we worked. We were a team of our own and we would leave everybody out.

- “We need you, kids. Gideon needs you. Both of you.”- Morgan finished his speech and hugged me tight. He looked at (Y/N) and hugged her too, as she tried her best not to cry and remain strong.

- “I'm going to step right out there, and when you two are ready… let's go get this son of a bitch.”

(Y/N)’s point of view

One of the scariest things about Gideon’s death was dealing with the awful truth: we were all potential victims. Yes, it wasn’t the first time we had to face that fact, but you usually forget it. You are under an incredible amount of stress, dealing with serial killers, trips, your daily routine, and taking care of your baby, your house, and your husband. And then this hits you: You can die. All of your team could be in danger. And there is nothing you can do to stop it.

Honestly, it’s nerve-wracking.

I had held Spencer’s hand since the second we got that phone call and I wasn’t planning on letting it go. I knew how hard that situation was for my husband and I was not going to let him go through it alone. Never.

Morgan left us alone with Gideon’s corpse and Spencer cried for a few seconds. I hugged him and let my own tears fall free as we simply stood in front of Gideon’s body. After a silence, filled with our sobs, I let my husband go and turned to the body.

- “So, as you may know, we got married.”- I started talking and felt Spencer’s hand holding mine tighter in a second. - “It’s been three years already, and we have a little girl. Her name is Raven. You would have loved her. She is so smart, like her dad.”

- “Like her mom.”- Spencer corrected me and I brushed the tears that kept falling down my face as I continued speaking.

- “She is going to be one year old in a few weeks, and we are planning a big party. She loves animals and bedtime stories. Spencer reads her for hours before putting her down to bed.”- my chin kept quivering as I spoke, but I continued fighting the tears and made a long pause, trying to recompose myself.

- “We miss you.”- Spencer whispered- “I miss you.”

His voice broke at the end of that last word, but after a few seconds, he continued talking. 

- “I hope you are proud of the man I became, ‘cos you had a lot to do with who I am today. Every time I am scared and feel like quitting, I remember when you told me “We all have bad dreams. Everyone on the plane, who wouldn't? We hunt the worst of humanity, we see the depths of depravity, we dream of monsters.” And yet, you left us. I guess I understand why you did it. However, I don’t understand why you turned your back on us. Why didn’t you call? Why not send a letter after that goodbye? We were a family, or at least that's how I felt about you.”

My husband was opening his heart, and the only thing I could do was to hold his hand and encourage him to let it all out. That was the time to do it. The moment to start healing from any wound that the end of his relationship with Gideon left him.

- “I’m sorry you felt like you needed to leave us behind. There were so many times when I wished I could still talk to you. Ask you things, get your advice. It wasn’t just serial killers. You were my friend. And as you remember, I don’t have many friends. That hasn’t changed much.”

- “And I’m still a very bad influence for him”- I had to add and chuckled- “But I still try to make him eat his greens at every dinner.”

- “You force me.”- Spencer argued immediately and I nodded.

- “That remains the same, as you can notice.”- my words were a soft whisper as I moved closer to the table, Spencer holding still my hand. - “Thank you for everything, Gideon. I’m sorry things ended up like this. I wish you could have come to our wedding. I wish we could have had one last conversation, to know if you were ok. But I give you my word, we are gonna catch whoever did this to you, and we are making them pay.”

Spencer took a deep breath and didn’t say a word for a moment. I looked at him and cut him a short smile, caressing his hand with my thumb as I still held it tight.

- “Thank you, Gideon. I will always remember our conversations, all of them. You changed my life. I wouldn’t be here today if it weren’t for you. I owe you so much…”- he sobbed for a moment, letting it all out. It broke my heart to see my husband so affected, but it was a good thing he was being open about his feelings. He wasn’t hiding how he felt, and between us that was a great improvement. He finally understood I didn’t need him to be perfect, I wanted him to be honest. That was it.

- “Goodbye, my friend.”- Spencer whispered, wiped the tears from his face, and sighed, looking at me.- “I’m ready. Let’s catch this guy.”

I cut him a short, warm smile and nodded. I gave him a Kleenex and ran my thumb across his cheek. When we walked out of there, Morgan was waiting for us. He didn’t say a word, he just looked at us and started walking. It was time to go back to the cabin and investigate this case as any other case. We had to be profilers.

Back at the cabin, JJ, Kate, and Penelope were going through some of Jason’s things, tracing his last steps. Spencer and I walked in and overheard the last part of their conversation, as Morgan followed us closely.

- “Ok, Gideon fueled up every 350 miles, he probably stopped at some diners along the way, 'cause, you know, the man could like live off of milkshakes.”- Pen rambled as she kept staring at the screen in front of her. - “Definitely he took his sweet time going down the coast, but booked it back from Jacksonville, and instead of coming here home to his cabin, he stayed one night in Roanoke.”

- “Why? It's only an hour away.”- Kate asked but her words were ignored ‘cause JJ noticed us and looked at my husband with the saddest eyes I’ve ever seen.

- “Spence?”

- "I just don't understand any of it anymore. I guess I'm just looking for it again, for the belief I had back in college, the belief I had when I first met Sarah and it all seemed so right."- Spencer quoted the letter Gideon had left him as he stared at a book with a picture of Sarah and her date of death.

- “That's beautiful.”- Kate whispered and looked at us, probably not knowing what else to say. - “Who's Sarah?”

- “Gideon's first love.”- I answered and looked around, still feeling wrong for snooping into someone else’s life. Someone who had taken us out of his life.

- “You're remembering the letter Gideon left you.”- JJ kept staring at Spencer and he nodded, avoiding eye contact with anyone in that room. He just stared at the book in his hands and continued talking.

- “I'm thinking maybe he rushed back and stayed in Roanoke because he was finally happy. What if he found someone like Sarah again?”- Spencer sighed and turned around. He wasn’t ready to be at that cabin again, neither of us was, but we had to start working. I started walking behind him, but Rossi stopped me before I walked out of the door.

- “Principessa, wait. Let Spencer deal with his emotions alone for a moment.”- I stood by the door and looked at my husband outside, just walking around, looking at his feet. - “How's the kid?- David asked Morgan, I guess I wasn’t supposed to hear 'cause he was whispering, but I was right there.

- “Not great. But he'll get his head back in the game.”

- “Come here”- Rossi said looking at me and I walked over, still trying to see what Spencer was doing.- “How are you doing?”

- “I’m… shocked, I guess.”- I murmured and felt his arm around me. - “What about you? He was your friend, you were the fathers of the BAU.”

- “We are going to find whoever did this, then and only then I’ll be able to deal with what happened.”

Rossi’s words sounded a lot like any FBI agent would react: logical. Somehow I felt I was never going to be able to react that way if someone I loved was involved in a case.

- “Rossi, this is crazy.”- Morgan started talking, still trying to wrap his head around what had happened- “Gideon and I used to walk around scenes like this all the time. He'd always say to me, "Morgan, I'm the unsub. How did I do it?"”

- “Well, first I shoot my target from a distance, wounding him. Then I move in for the kill.”- Rossi replied, keeping his head cold, and being a profiler on duty.

- “Gideon has the strength to shoot a few rounds into the door. But he misses.”- Derek walked to the door and stared at the scene. - “Because I've weakened his dominant hand. Gideon didn't have the strength to hold his gun steady.”

- “So, I stand over. I get off on this. My face is the last thing he'll see. And then I finish him.”- Rossi adds and stares at the blood stains on the carpet.

- “But wait a second.”- I finally interrupted them and looked at the room around me like a crime scene, and not Gideon’s living room.- “If most of the gun was from here to the door, why did Gideon shoot way over here to this wall? That makes no sense unless he did it on purpose.”

- “You are right, pretty girl. Shot's gotta mean something.”- Derek nodded and the three of us stared at the whole on the wooden wall. Rossi grabbed the painting that had fallen due to the gunshot: it was a creepy sparrow picture.

- “The devil is in the details.”- David said and sighed- “Do you mind if I take Boy Wonder with me for a ride?”

- “Of course”- I answered - “Just let me say goodbye.”

- “It’s just a ride, Bella.”- Rossi cut me a short smile, and I nodded.

- “I know.”

Spencer left with Rossi and I was left with the girls. The first thing Penelope asked was how Spencer was doing, and I simply shrugged and sighed.

- “As well as expected, I guess.”

- “Were he and Gideon close?”- Kate asked and I nodded thinking “close” wasn’t the word I would use to describe that relationship.

- “They had a friendship that was more like a father and son relationship. He took so much care of Spencer when he first joined the BAU, he was actually upset we were friends.”- I explained and both JJ and Penelope smiled, nodding, probably remembering how it used to be when Gideon worked with us.

- “Upset you were friends? Why?”- Callahan demanded to know.

- “Well, I was somehow… a bad influence for Spencer.”- I whispered and sighed.

- “You two once got to work drunk!”- JJ said and chuckled- “I still remember Gideon’s look when you two sat at the table wearing sunglasses.”

- “Drunk?!”- Kate nearly yelled, shocked. Morgan walked over and overheard the conversation, and of course, he had to add his 5 cents to the topic.

- “Little Ricky smelled like whisky and beer. It was one of the best BAU moments.”

- “They called us at 3 in the morning, for Christ's sake!”- I argued and Pen giggled staring at me- “We had had a few drinks with some friends. It’s not like we were wasted.”

- “Jr. G man was so proud, though”- Garcia said - “I remember he told me he had so much fun that night, that your friends were the best, that everybody was nice to him. And that he even learned how to skateboard that night.” - I was about to add something to that memory, when JJ suddenly said.

- “Gideon really treated Spencer like a kid. Remember that birthday he gave Spence tickets to a football game, even when Spencer has never been a sports fan, so he could take me out on a date?”

Looking back at that moment, I think I should have noticed it was wrong that JJ kept bringing up every chance she could that she went out on a “date” with my husband. Penelope and Kate looked at me, waiting for my reaction, but I just shrugged and smiled.

- “He is screwed now, my family forces him to have football Sundays when we get together. And call me crazy, but I think he enjoys it.”

About two hours later, we got a call from Rossi and Spencer. They had a clue. Apparently, Gideon had been killed by an unsub they never caught in the area back in 1978.

- “The last thing Gideon did was to shoot a bird painting. I think he was trying to tell us that his killer is the same one from a case we worked on in 1978.”- Rossi said through the line.

- “So it was someone he locked up.”- Kate suggested, but the answer was no.

- “No, those murders went unsolved.”

- “So if this wasn't about revenge on Gideon if he didn't lock the guy up, then what was this?”- Morgan asked, looking confused.

- “We all knew Jason, he might have retired from the BAU, but there is no way he ever stopped working. I’m sure he was investigating that case if he never solved it back in the days.”- I said, thinking it was a very Gideon thing to do: retire to never ever retire indeed.

- “Exactly, maybe he went after Gideon because he was back on the case again.”- Rossi agreed with me.

- “The unsub was strangling 20-something brunettes.”- Spencer said through the line and I wished I could be with him, holding his hand. - “Garcia, were there any female bodies found in Roanoke County in the past few days?”

- “Let me check the crystal web ball.”- after a few seconds, Pen had the answer. - “Yes. An unidentified woman in her 50s was found in a shallow grave just outside of Salem.”

- “Was she strangled?”- Rossi asked right away.

- “That's the mystery. There was no foul play.”- Garcia answered shaking her head.

- “Was there a dead bird in her hand?”- Spencer asked and we all frowned, confused.

- “What? Eew. None of that fowl play either.”- Pen looked grossed

- “Hon, why the bird? Is that his signature?”- I asked.- “I’m guessing it wasn’t a random question.”

- “Yes, apparently, they were the unsub's obsession.”- Spencer answered.

- “So how did Gideon get back on the case?”- Kate questioned and looked at us - “I mean, he was retired, he should have been… bird watching. I don’t know.”

- “He saw the story in a national paper and it obviously piqued his interest.”- JJ suggested- “What are the chances that the same woods and the same ritual make headlines again?”

- “But the signature was missing.”- Kate pointed out.

- “It’s Gideon we are talking about. I think he knew something we haven’t discovered yet.”- I suggested and Hotch nodded. - “Or he had one hell of a hunch.”

- “That's why he drove to Roanoke. He needed to make sure it wasn't just a coincidence.”- Rossi supported my words through the line.

- “Well, clearly it wasn't.”- Morgan whispered.

- “And this woman would have been in her 20s back then. Age-wise, that's his type.”- Garcia pointed out and I nodded.

- “It's all there. He just connected the dots.”- I sighed and shook my head. - “If only he would have called us and asked for help.”

- “Don’t go there, principessa”- Rossi said from the other side of the line. - “What’s done it’s done. We can only try to help him finish what he needed to get done.”- I sighed one more time and nodded, which was incredibly stupid considering David couldn’t see me.

- “If she was a victim, then she was held captive for 37 years. Who knows what he did to her in all that time?”- Kate said and my mind went to a very dark place immediately. We needed to give that poor victim the justice she deserved as well.

- “What if he stopped killing because he found the victim he really wanted and held on to her?”- Spencer suggested.

- “Her recent death could have sent the unsub into a tailspin. He's probably gonna want to find someone new.”- Morgan added and we all nodded.

- “And if it's anything like what he did before, he may hunt and kill until he finds the right one.”- JJ added the part we knew but didn’t want to think of: that it might be the start of a new massacre.

- “We'll meet you in Roanoke, Dave.”- Hotch said and we all started walking outside. Only Garcia and JJ remained at the cabin, retracing Gideon’s last steps, while, Kate, Morgan, Hotch, and I got into an SUV and drove to town.

On our way over we kept talking on the phone with Rossi, Spencer Garcia, and JJ. When we got to Roanoke I was paired with Morgan, which was nice. He didn’t ask much about how I was feeling, we both focused on the case and tried our best to be professional and headed to the morgue to identify the victim’s body.

- “That ink's pretty faded.”- Derek pointed out staring at a butterfly tattoo on the victim’s ankle.

- “Yeah, she must have got that 40 years ago.”- I whispered and turned to the M.E - “What was the C.O.D.?”

- “Cancer.”- he answered with a troubled stare in his eyes. Clearly, something was bothering him.

- “Cancer?”- I questioned and he just nodded.

- “She was riddled with it. No evidence of tissue damage from chemo or radiation.”- the forensic started explaining- “At first I thought her severe muscle atrophy and bone loss was a side effect of the disease. And she clearly lost her appetite, because her stomach shrunk to half its size.”

- “You said at first you thought it was about the disease. What changed your mind?”- Morgan took the words from me as he looked at the M.E. waiting for an answer.

- “Well, I hadn't finished the exam when I explained all of this to the other one… what's his name?”- there was a brief silence after that question, Derek and I looked at each other immediately.

- “Gideon.”- I replied, trying to look like it wasn’t weird at all to talk about him like he hadn’t been just killed.

- “Yes, him. Now that I've had time to fully examine the body, it tells a different story. She's got ripped ligaments between her pelvic girdle and femur bone like her legs had been dislocated multiple times. She's got calluses like she was crawling around like a limp dog.”

Every word that explained the excruciating pain that poor woman had been through during all the years she had been held captive, hurt me. I can’t imagine how Gideon felt to know she had been alive all those years, waiting for someone to rescue her.

- “Have you ever seen that before?”- I dared to ask, though I imagined the answer.

- “Yes. On three young women many years ago.”

It was the same unsub.

Hotch, Spencer, and Rossi were waiting for us outside the morgue. My husband was holding a paper bag with a bagel and a hot cup of coffee.

- “You need some breakfast.”- he whispered as I smiled, blushing. Yes, I would still blush every time he made a sweet gesture like that. I hadn’t even finished opening the bag when JJ called and he put her on speaker.

- “Hey, Hotch, there's another missing woman. You need to get to the library on Third and Main right now.”

And off we were. At least I was finally with Spencer again.

Spencer’s point of view

That day was hard. Hard doesn’t even begin to explain it, but for the lack of a better word, let’s go with “hard.” Everything had been uphill. I even called Sofia and asked if I could video chat with my daughter as we drove back from talking with the victim’s mother. That was a balm for my soul. Finally being with my wife helped as well. I understand Rossi wanted to put an eye on me and talk about what was going on, but I really didn’t want to be apart from her that day. She was my happy place.

- “Today’s victim, Josie Behdart, 23, single, she walked to work. Local cops just found her cell phone in a trash can and, surprise, no cameras.”- Kate said as she and Hotch walked toward us at the library parking lot, holding a police file with all the info about the abduction.

- “And all the original reports confirm that each of the victims was taken within a mile of this library.”- our Unit Chief added.

- “Well, needless to say, this guy has a comfort zone to hunt”- (Y/N) pointed out and I nodded.

- “It hasn't changed since '78.”- Morgan added - “My guess is there's another significance to this location.”

- “A library could be an ideal hunting ground. A haven for the lonely. Let me check it out.”- I said and started walking. But before taking another step I turned around and looked at my wife. I didn’t even have to say a word, she was already walking behind me.

Honestly, it felt good to know she wasn’t going to leave my side. And no, that is not something I could ever take for granted.

- “You haven’t taken off your scarf.”- (Y/N) whispered as we walked to the main door of the library's old building.

- “I love this scarf, you gave it to me on January 16th, 2006, almost two months after we met.”- I pointed out and she smiled. Not your regular “that’s funny” smile, a hearty one. A “I love you smile.” I live for those smiles from her.

- “I know, honey. I remember that day too. But what I meant was it's not cold anymore, aren’t you warm?”

- “No, I’m ok. Have you talked with your mom?”

- “Yeah, she and Raven were out for a walk.”

- “Ok Reids. What are we looking for?”- Morgan showed up at our side and looked around. Kate followed him quickly and smiled at us as she said.

- “What? We weren’t going to miss a trip to the library, it’s where the cool kids hang out.”

It was obvious the team was now trying to put an eye on us, maybe even support us or cheer us up a little bit. And it was sweet, in a way. I knew we all loved each other, and we were there in good and bad.

- “Hope you are ok”- JJ texted me a few minutes later, proving my theory. It was nice to know we all had each other’s backs.

I didn’t have much time to reply to JJ’s text because we were pretty busy at the library. It was a small town and Gideon hadn’t gone undetected by the locals. Hotch and Rossi waited for us in a cafeteria, and as soon as we walked back in, we gave them the news.

- “The librarian remembers Gideon. He got a temporary card, checked out these books in the morning, and left them in the drop box on his drive home last night.”- I left the books on the table and moved a chair for my wife, as we all sat at the table with Hotch and Rossi.

- “He left the library and came here to read books.”- Callahan whispered sadly as he sat down, probably trying to see which one of the seats he had taken.

- “Yeah, that is just classic Gideon and classic profiling.”- (Y/N) added and kept her eyes on the book on the table. - “I don’t know why I find it comforting knowing exactly what he did that last day.”

- “He sat right here to let the unsub know he was watching.”- Morgan said, nodding.

- “But if Gideon was so sure he lured the right guy, why didn't he tell us?”- my wife questioned and looked at us. I couldn’t give him an answer, because I asked myself the same the entire day.

- “It's like the unsub was his white whale.”- Kate analyzed and her words made sense. - “He wanted to catch him on his own, and his last move was when the unsub targeted him.”

- “The age of the victims has stayed the same as the unsub has aged.”- Hotch pointed out. - “It speaks to his arrested development.”

- “So the question is what it's always been: Why them? Why now?”- Morgan commented and (Y/N) nodded.

- “Back to profiling one on one.”- and we all sighed - “Ok, give me those books, let’s see what Gideon was reading about.”

We all read for a while, I tried to do it as fast as possible, but I was having a hard time concentrating. The waitress brought us coffee, which we all gladly welcomed, and offered us pie. Hotch said no and I nearly pouted. I could have had some. I needed sugar to function.

- “This is it. Nelson's sparrow.”- Rossi pointed at a book after a while.- “It's what the unsub left in their hands because its behavior matched that of the insecure victims.”

- “So the unsub really knew his birds and where to find them.”- Morgan said, looking exhausted. I’m sure we all looked like that considering we hadn’t slept at all.

- “Is there some kind of bird lovers club in the area?���- Kate asked and (Y/N) grabbed her phone right away.

- “Let me call an expert. Hey Garcia, you are on speaker. Tell me, are there any nature centers or bird-watching chapters in the area?”

- “There's an old-timey bird-watching group called the Flappers, median age of like 89. They started in the sixties. Most of the members have gone extinct.”- Garcia announced in a matter of seconds.

- “And chances are the unsub and his victims weren't a part of that group, so where else would he meet them?”- Kate asked, as Aaron grabbed the picture of the unsub’s victim and showed it to us.

- “Tara was his ideal.”

- “What made her so special for him?”- (Y/N) asked, focusing on the image.

- “Tara's mother said she was broken.”- Rossi pointed out.

- “And he knew that because he spent more time watching her than the others.”- Hotch commented.

- “So he was basically a stalker. He was able to study her, not just glance as she passed by the window.”- (Y/N) said and I nodded along her words.

- “She was a few years out of high school when she disappeared. Maybe he knew her from there.”- Morgan analyzed, but it didn’t really make much sense.

- “She wasn't very social.”- I said, trying to connect their lives, with how they lived.

- “Well, neither was he, hon.”- (Y/N) said and rubbed my hand with her as she smiled at me for a moment.

- “They were both in their 20s when she was taken.”- Hotch pointed out. - “If they weren't friends in high school, maybe they worked together?”

- “Tara's mom said right out of school she bagged groceries.”- I added and Garcia replied in a matter of seconds.

- “I've got Tara working at Joe's on Main summer of '76 through '77.”

- “Are there any employees at Joe's supermarket who started in the seventies and are still there?”- Hotch asked and I raised an eyebrow.

- “You do realize you are asking for the impossible, right?”- (Y/N) whispered and our Unit Chief simply raised an eyebrow.

- “But I’m asking Garcia, I know she delivers.”

- “Well, that's nearly 40 years ago in a galaxy far, far away that wasn't using my magic binary boxes, but, yeah, the place is still family-owned and operated. Give me a hot minute.”

- “Thank you, Pen.”- (Y/N) said and I held her hand as she cut me a little smile.

- “Ok. Three of the people still working there are women. That leaves two males. There's a name I've heard before. Mallick.”- it took Garcia less than two minutes to gather the whole information. A new record.

- “Who?”- Hotch asked, confused.

- “Gertie Mallick was one of the founding members of the bird group. Died in 1974. Her next of kin was her nephew Donnie Mallick, who inherited her farm and... buys enough birdseed to let me know I should send you his address.”

We had a suspect and most likely, our Unsub. Gideon’s murderer.

As Hotch drove us to Mallick’s last known address in the middle of nowhere, I couldn’t stop analyzing his life. His mother gave birth to him at only fourteen, and at eighteen she was sent to a mental facility for schizophrenia, and her four-year-old son was sent to live with his only living kin, a 72-year-old wheelchair-bound Aunt Gertrude. A part of me pitied him. He never had a normal life, he had most likely inherited his mother’s condition. I could relate to the fear and the pain.

But he had killed Jason Gideon. My mentor, my biggest influence. I wanted to shoot the guy, I wanted to give Gideon peace and give some sense of what had happened.

That was until I heard his voice in the back of my head as I remembered one conversation we once shared when I still was struggling to pass my firearm qualification exam.

- “Hotch told me that when he came to the BAU, you told him he didn't need a gun to kill somebody?”- I questioned Gideon and he nodded.

- “The only truly effective weapon we have is our ability to do the one thing they can't.”

- “Which is what?”

- “Empathize. They dehumanize their victims, we humanize the killers.”

I took a deep breath and nodded to myself. I wasn’t going to let my emotions take the best of me that day.

When we got to the house, we divided, and luckily, (Y/N) stayed with me as we went through the back. The gunshot warned us in a matter of minutes, Rossi got the unsub. And he was dead. I thought I was gonna be relieved to see him there, but no. I just felt sad for him, for his life, and for the women he had tortured and killed. At least Gideon’s work was finished.

Did Mallick give a reason to Rossi to pull the trigger? I don’t know. But I know I’m glad it wasn’t me. I wanted to go home and still be myself. A good version of myself. One that could be Raven’s dad and (Y/N)’s husband.

I was gonna miss Gideon, always, but I knew I was never gonna be him, and that was a good thing. 

Next chapter (post date: october 2nd)

Series' Masterlist - Author's masterlist

[rottengurlz]

lover, don't touch me // leave, i am a danger to you // but ooh, i hunger for you

[mishy-mashy]

Shinomori is cute. Here's a post.

He is so baby-faced. He hasn't changed at all since he was 22, to when he died of "old age" at 40

(Old age? With a face like that? 40 years old?? Gimme that kind of youth and hotness Shinomori-)

He has tiny eyebrows. Like a puppy's (rottweiler's, for example). So cute and tiny and fuffy

He naturally frowns. Look at him and his mouth and his lil nose

He has a thing about keeping his arms near his chest. He sits with his arms crossed, introduces himself with his hands over his torso, and even walks with his arms crossed toward Midoriya

He has such clear skin for someone who lived the rest of his life in a forest??? Why do Hikage and Yoichi have such nice skin despite living in terrible environments? (forest and vault + abandoned streets respectively)

Is easily scared

They knew their Quirks could be used, but Shinomori got scared of it when it happened. Even though he gave Midoriya his support and access to his Quirk beforehand. Depending on the translation; "it startled me", "you scared me", "it surprised me"

I'm not going to hold running from AFO against him because he knew he was running for his life. Who wouldn't run for their life when it's in danger? Shinomori was being chased by the strongest person in the country (and likely the world)

His sense of self-preservation is probably heightened by the nature of his Quirk to keep him out of danger too. Which makes him all the more sensitive and jumpy to danger and anything that startles him, especially when he has no warning

He's actually extremely tall, but is so socially inept and jumpy it's adorable. He's taller than Bruce.

Bruce is as tall as a vault door that the 2m AFO used.

(Meanwhile Kudo is down there-)

He has such a bad sense of humor that it's cute (his puns off Danger Sense)

It's also adorable how Shinomori just doesn't understand social conventions sometimes. He lived in a forest, so it made sense, but also— Midoriya shows up in the void to the vestige platform for the first time. He has no mouth, no clothes—and Shinomori's first idea is to stand in front of him menacingly and go: "I shall explain. I am Shinomori Hikage." SIRRRR

This.

His Ability is basically like glorified anxiety. What if something is coming to hurt him? If something can hurt him? What if that tree falls while he's under it? And the ideas come so hard they hurt (although yes, it does detect ill intent and that's what sets it off)

He talks weirdly. Formal? Old-fashioned? Listening to him speak Japanese compared to others, it just sounds a bit different. (Translated subs don't show it very well, it's the voice itself methinks)

"This too, is destiny." *about Midoriya having OFA*

Kinda wise or sage-y. He did spend his life in solitude in the forests so he definitely spent a lot of time with his own thoughts. Maybe he found the meaning of life in a centipede or something one day

For someone so cute, he is also such. A fine. Specimen???

Look at those back muscles, dang.

LOOK AT HIS CALVES AND ARMS DANG.

[twpsyn-who]

Soulmate AU in which when you touch your soulmate you swap bodies. It needs to be skin on skin contact and is instant. The only way to get back in the previous body is to touch again, otherwise you're stuck like that.

No matter the body all psychological and physical damage stays with you. That means if you get hurt then swap bodies, you will still feel it despite no longer having the wounds. This is only the case of existing wounds prior to swapping ; if new wounds happen to the hurt body after the swap you won't feel them, but the person in the body when it happens will. A very complicated way of saying that you can't get away from pain by swapping bodies with your soulmate as it will follow you.

There's no known consequences to not changing bodies back once swapped, though some might get sick for a few days after swapping back if they waited a long period of time to change back (say over a month, even longer depending on individual)

Now this but, you know... JeanMarco. And of course they find out during their time in the 104th Training Corps, because there's no way their skin didn't touch at least once in +3 years of training and being as close as they are. It isn't until break when they're able to visit home that they learn what it truly means ; up until that point they used it to swap chores (is the only reason why Jean didn't try to kill Eren during their shared chores- because it was actually Marco all along). At that point they knew each other perfectly.

Of course the whole situation was a little bit awkward for both of them when returning. They probably would end up avoiding each other for a bit because teenager boys and stuff, all until someone finally got the guts to mention the tension and ask them what's wrong- which forces them to talk and stuff. Doesn't matter, this is not what I want to talk about.

But the beautiful battle of Trost and what if, hypothetical speaking of course, they touch skin after Jean gets another ODM? And they're so used with each other by now, they don't even notice until the mission is nearly done anyway. And I don't know man, the idea of Jean dying while in Marco's body? Marco (in Jean's body) saying "I need to find Marco" once the mission is a success and research for his soulmate, just for him to not find him?? Not find him until 3 days later when some of them are assigned cleaning duty in Trost and he finds his own fucking body bitten in half???

The realization that it should've been Marco who died that day, but didn't because he was in Jean's body. The realization that not only his soulmate is dead, but he's stuck living his life. He's stuck living the life Jean can't because he died in Marco's place.

SEEING YOUR DEAD SOULMATE EVERYDAY WHEN YOU LOOK IN THE MIRROR. Poor Marco would most likely avoy any reflective surface for a very long time, unable to see Jean's face looking at him.

The guilt of lying to everyone, because how does one even begin to explain what's going on? Him lying to Jean's mother to protect her from the harsh truth of the reality- that her son actually died and the one in front of her was a fake.

And the sad truth is that no one would notice because they've been doing it for months already. They knew how to act like each other to perfection. Even if Marco slipped at some point no one would question it because they got many traits from each other already.

[sysig]

Ooh, could I request something with a royal vampire Scriabin x vampire hunter or priest Edgar?? I just saw their outfits for day 18 and was like 👀 "I immediately love them", lol. My brain also keeps making a half connection between this concept and vampire moths, probably because of the Vargases' weird relationship with moths/butterflies since the diaryfic. So if you felt like including any butterfly imagery, I'd be interested how you would incorporate it!

Day 24 - Try again? ♥

[alexiroflife]

"tears"

fluff for the sukuna fans bc i've been in a soft sukuna mood

ryomen sukuna x reader

Synopsis: sukuna isn't a stranger to arguments with you, but when he catches you crying after a particularly harsh one, he finds himself scrambling to fix it... in his own way

to sum it up: sukuna is an asshole but he loves you, so he tries his best

WC: 3,296

Warning(s): a lil angst

You knew exactly what you were getting into when you first started a relationship with the infamous king of curses, but that didn’t mean it hurt any less when his tendency to be an asshole hurt your feelings. 

You know Sukuna isn’t a sentimental person who cares much for things like verbal reassurance, or consideration for the way the things he says can impact you, or anyone for that matter, but damn! Sometimes, he’s just too much of a jerk for you to handle, and Sukuna himself has no idea why your fragile human emotions sway you to be so affected by him. He doesn’t even think he’s said anything wrong the times in which you grow angry with him.

Now, Sukuna can handle your anger. Anger is good. Anger means that there is something he can react to, something he can tame or involve into your intimacies when he takes your mind off of silly arguments or subdues your attitude over what he deems to be small inconveniences. Anger is the only human emotion that he has felt himself in his many years of existence, so he knows what to expect. He understands it. He’s not, in the slightest, intimidated by it.

But what Sukuna finds he can not handle is the sound of your sniffles that resound from behind your door after you’ve just slammed it into his face. Sukuna angles his brows, pressing his ear to the door in confusion. Are you… cold? Coming down with a fever? What the hell are you sniffing your nose so much for?

Then he hears the meek gasps that intercept, the vocalization of pain that creeps into your weakened inhalations that accompany your damned sniffling. That’s when he realizes that you’re crying, and his pupils shrink slightly knowing that he has gone a little too far this time. 

Hell, how is he supposed to handle you crying? He can’t fuck your sadness away like he can with your irritation. He can’t mirror your sadness, since he has no clue what the hell it’s supposed to feel like. He can’t empathize with it either, for he has no idea what he could have done to bring tears to your eyes and empathy, well, it’s not in his vocabulary to begin with. It’s pathetic, he thinks, the way you have allowed him to bother you this much…

Yet it kills him to know that he’s the reason behind your tears.

He stands there for some time, unsure of what to do. Should he get Uraume to handle this? No, that may make things worse. You may want to be alone.

He turns to leave, but something stops him. He feels an ache in his chest, pressing his hand to his bicep. What the hell? What is this feeling?

He can still hear you crying, and somehow, it sounds like it’s getting worse, louder, or perhaps that is all in his head. He can no longer tell, but that sound you’re making is the only thing occupying his mind, and it’s ruining him. It’s making his chest tighten, his brow furrow, his lips press together tightly. He should leave, but he doesn’t want to. He doesn’t want to abandon you like this. 

Never once in his life has Sukuna felt remorse. Not even for all the times he has made you angry in the past when you two have had arguments. He is so quick to blame your reactions to things on your feeble human emotions. He is so quick to evade responsibility, or more so, refrain from guilting himself over the things he is responsible for. He is so quick to dismiss you, but it’s always fine because he has never witnessed you grow sad over his behavior, not until now.

Sukuna turns back to your door slowly. His hand flies to grab the handle to throw the door open, but he hesitates. He’s unsure of what’s happening to him, for he’s never hesitated before in his life. This, you crying, him second guessing himself, it’s all so new and he hates it. He needs to fix this immediately. 

What do you humans like when you are upset? There’s a word that’s slipping his mind, one he always hears you pester him for but turns down repeatedly. He had found the concept so irrelevant that he hadn’t even bothered to recall what it’s called.

He crosses his arms and stares ahead harshly in thought, then it comes to him. An apology! Yes, that’s what it is. But of course, you can’t expect him to verbalize such a thing. You must want something as a gift. A physical representation of his desire not to see you cry. He rushes off to locate Uraume for preparations.

About an hour later, you’re curled up on your bed and facing the wall with a blank stare. Your tears stopped a while ago, and since you hadn’t heard from Sukuna, you assumed he just didn’t care about your feelings. Like always.

“Oi,” a gruff voice through the door startles you. You jump and turn over, curling your brows in confusion at the sound of Sukuna’s voice. For a moment, you don’t believe he is speaking to you, so you wait some time to see if he will speak again. “I know you can hear me in there,” his voice sounds again, and you groan.

“Go away,” you tell him, flipping back over.

Sukuna, on the other side of the wall, clicks his tongue in agitation. “Quit your pouting and come open this door.”

“No. Until you learn how to treat me better, I don’t want to see you.”

Treat you better? Sukuna doesn’t understand this nonsense. You live in his large estate, you’re pampered by servants, showered with gifts and homemade meals, you sleep by his side every night, and he allows you to disrespect him far more often than he should. Not to mention, he has his arms full of presents at this very moment that are preventing him from opening the door himself. How can he possibly treat you any better than he’s already treating you?

He growls lowly and closes his eyes in irritation. “If you open the door, your mood will improve.”

“I don’t want anything other than what I just said.”

Sukuna’s eye twitches. Why are you so damn difficult? “What is your-”

“Go. Away.”

Oh. Alright, then. 

You sit up abruptly when Sukuna’s foot breaks in the door with a loud crash. You stare with wide eyes, the door, now off its hinge, creaking open weakly to reveal the king of curses with his arms full of several bouquets of flowers.

“What the fuck, Sukuna?!” you cry. He only stares frustratedly as he walks into the space univinted.

“This was going to go on for too long if I hadn’t done something,” he says, approaching the side of your bed.

“You can’t just- fuck! What is wrong with you?”

Okay… this is already going poorly. 

This is not the reaction he had desired from you, and perhaps he should have revisited the idea of kicking in the door, but he had been growing impatient. Despite his big talk, he doesn’t like when you speak to him in such a cold way. He doesn’t like being separated from you. He doesn’t like not being able to see your face, and after all the work he has just done to collect these plants for you, he can not tolerate being turned away. 

“Must you be so dramatic?” he tsks. “Do you not see what I have brought to you? Don’t you humans like these things?”

You stare at him incredulously, mouth agape. Sukuna can see the tear stains clear on your face, and his heart clenches again. God, why is that sight so abominable? 

He holds his arms out, presenting the flowers to you as if you could have possibly missed them. “They are yours. Take them and be done with this.”

“Be done with what, Sukuna?” you shake your head, face scrunched.

“With your tantrum- your tears, and the sniffles. Be done with them now. Here.”

You scoff. “Do you even know why you're giving these to me?”

Sukuna raises a brow. “To cease your tantrum. As I just said.”

“I can’t with you sometimes, Sukuna. Honestly.” 

“This is really the thanks that I get for bringing you these damn flowers? I thought you were supposed to like things like this. Why would you make me waste my time?”

“If you think it’s a fucking waste of time to bring me flowers, then there’s your problem right there,” you raise your voice, pointing at him accusingly. Sukuna’s face hardens. He thinks you’re getting angry again, but he can still see the sadness behind your eyes. You look almost… defeated. “And if you knew me at all, you’d know that I never cared about any of that stuff. I never cared about the flashiness or the gifts or whatever the fuck.”

Sukuna lowers his hands, letting the bouquets drop carelessly to the floor. “Now you are accusing me of not knowing you?” he seethes. “I’m not sure when you decided that it was acceptable for you to speak to me this way, but I will not tolerate it. I do nothing but dote on you, you ungrateful brat.”

“Yeah, sure, you dote on me, and then you turn around and berate me and call everything I feel stupid because you don’t care to even try to understand why some of the things you say are not okay!”

Sukuna walks closer to invade your personal space, leaning in to glare angrily at you as you do the same. This is what he knows. This is what he chooses to respond to. Not the curl in your brow, not the tremble of your lips, not the unsteadiness of your voice, but your anger. “Why should I care if all you do is whine,” he grumbles. 

You clamp your mouth shut as a lump forms in your throat. Sukuna watches you unravel before him, and while he tries to keep an unmoved expression, he is internally panicking when he sees your eyes gloss over again and your nose flare. 

Shit. He’s supposed to be making you feel better. How has he gone and made things worse again? Why is he incapable of understanding how to be what you want him to be?

You take in a trembling inhale as your hands clench and unclench at your sides. You don’t want him to see you cry. You don’t want him to call you weak, but you can’t help the tear that breaks past your lashes and dashes down your cheek, a physical display of your heartache. 

Sukuna’s crimson eyes fly to the tear, and his brows smooth out against his intent. 

Shit. Shit. Shit.

You’re crying again, and it’s his fault. It’s always been his fault. What is this now that he’s feeling? Regret? Shame? Is that what is clawing at his chest and stripping him of his resolve? Making him wish to replay this entire interaction so that you do not appear before him with tears in your eyes once more? Is this what it is to fall? 

You rub angrily at your eyes and huff, turning away from him and plopping back down on your bed, back facing him. You shut yourself away, close yourself off, and deprive Sukuna of your pretty face for the second time today. “Just leave me alone. You’ve made it perfectly clear that you don’t give a fuck about me or anything, for that matter.”

Sukuna’s eyes widen slightly with the deepening of his frown. That ache he has felt in his chest spreads throughout his body, serving as tension in his back, head, and shoulders. You think he doesn’t care for you? What nonsense. You’re the only being on this planet who has made a millennia of existence worth living, and you think he doesn’t care?

Sukuna can not even pin the blame onto you this time around. He can not accuse you of overreacting, nor can he evade such a thing that is so clearly his doing. He has made you feel uncared for, and while his temper may get out of hand, and his inability to fully comprehend the plagues of the human mind gets in the way, and he never tells you that he loves you, making you feel unloved is the last thing he ever meant to do. 

“Hey,” he mumbles, but you do not move. You cling to yourself for comfort because you do not believe he can provide any for you. “Brat-” he starts, but rethinks. He reaches his hand out to you. “(Y/n). Enough of this.”

“I don’t want to see you right now, Sukuna. Can’t you respect at least that for once?” you croak. 

His hand freezes and he lets it fall. Respect. Understanding. That is what you want from him, and he has not been giving it to you. He has not been giving you anything that you request of him emotionally, for that matter. He has been neglecting your mental needs whilst overpowering you with the physical, and it’s drawn you away from him. 

He could force you to get up. He could drag you by your hair to his bedroom. He could make you look him in the eye, make you stay with him, make you stay silent about this from this point on and forever more. Sukuna has the power and the authority to do so…

But the idea is not appealing. Not in the slightest.

Sukuna wants you happy. He wants you to want to be with him willingly, and if he ignores your consent now of all times, it would be like throwing away the life he has built with you. Throwing away your desires, and Sukuna does not long for a world in which you are any more uncomfortable than you already are. 

He takes a step back, looking over the flowers that he has dropped, and accepts the will of the mortal he fell in love with. 

“I will be in my chambers if or whenever you wish to see me,” he says lowly, giving in. He moves to leave but stops himself once more. He never had stopped himself this much before. “...I apologize for making you cry. I will send someone to fix your door immediately.”

Sukuna is well on his way when he hears you shuffling behind him. He turns, admittedly hopeful for your reaction, and finds you peeking in confusion over your shoulder. “...What did you just say?” you whisper.

The king of curses stalls, looking directly into your eyes from across the room. He feels suddenly… weak. Vulnerable. For the first time, he has relented his power for you to take hold of, and it feels strange to say the very least. “Do you wish for me to repeat myself?”

You sit up slowly, turning around. You knuckle at your red nose, watching him suspiciously. “I do. I may have misheard you.”

He studies you for a moment until he realizes that you are being facetious. “You heard me the first time.”

“Maybe I just want you to say it again.”

Sukuna sighs heavily. “I did not intend to make you cry, nor did I intend to make you feel as though I do not care for you. That is a foolish thought, but I understand I do not convey the depth of my feelings for you the way you wish me to convey it.”

You look dumbfounded as you stare at him in silence. Sukuna clicks his tongue, unsure of how you are going to respond. 

“Quit staring at me and say something, woman.”

“I just… never thought…” you trail off, swallowing harshly. “I never thought you would ever say something like that to me.”

“You will only hear me say such things when you are- when I’ve made you unhappy,” he clarifies firmly. Your nose twitches, an involuntary movement that Sukuna catches and finds entirely too adorable. Your eyes are still damp, but your breathing has evened out. 

“That’s the first,” you quip.

“Enough.”

You press your lips together, glancing at the flowers Sukuna brought you. Just then, you notice that they are your favorite. 

You tell yourself you knew what you were getting into when you first started dating the king of curses, but at times you forget that Sukuna is in fact a demon, and a king at that. He does not believe in any better than what he is.

“You hurt my feelings, Sukuna,” you say softly. “Don’t you get what that means? At least for me?”

“No,” he responds honestly. “But I do see now that you have different needs. And I understand that I refuse to watch you cry if there is something I can do about it.”

You try to remain angry with him. You try to keep yourself distanced, but you can not help the way that you are softening, and Sukuna notices. A hint of a smirk curves at the corner of his lips. 

“Is that all I had to say to make this better?”

“Shut the hell up,” you hiss. “It wouldn’t have killed you to apologize for the hundreds of other times we’ve fought, you know.”

“You weren’t crying the other times, woman.”

“It doesn’t matter,” you roll your eyes. 

Sukuna tilts his head, placing a hand on his hip. “You’re not still upset, are you?”

“Yes,” you pout, and he catches on.

“What is it you want now, to be pampered like a spoiled brat?” 

He makes the suggestion as if to offend you, but the two of you both know that he is hardly making a joke. “What I want is for you to fuck off.”

A chuckle rumbles in Sukuna’s throat as he makes his way over to you. You immediately break and screech when he yanks you forward by your ankle and loops you up into his arms before sitting down on your bed and setting you in his lap. 

He looks you dead in the eye and lifts a rough thumb, swiping stubbornly at your tear stains and your damp lashes. “Crybaby,” he mutters, and you swat his hand away.

“Whatever, asshole.” You push at his chest with weak contempt and he looks at you boredly.

“You’re pitiful,” he grumbles, gripping your chin securely and guiding it to him. His blood red eyes seep into yours, gazing intently. “No more tears, do you understand?”

“Then don’t make me sad.”

“I won’t,” he tells you confidently.

A smile twitches on your lips as you look over him, completely unfamiliar with this side of the king of curses. “Can you do one more thing for me, and then I’ll maybe think about forgiving you?” you bite your lip, pressing your finger to his broad shoulder.

Sukuna grunts. “More demands, huh? I suppose you know how to take advantage of a situation. What more do you want?”

You wrap your arms over his neck. “Tell me how much you care about me,” you sing. 

“Did I not just do so?”

“No, I want you to spell it out. Tell me you love me.”

“I highly tolerate you.”

“Tell me you loveeee me.”

“You are the only human being I do not frown upon.”

“Sukuna.”

“Christ, woman, you’re mine. Isn’t that enough?” he grits his teeth and you snort, patting his cheek gently. 

“For now.”

“Such a pest, you know that?” he mumbles, pushing in swiftly to press his lips firmly to yours in a swift peck. “Don’t ever say I don’t care for you again. It is the most false and offensive thing I have ever heard."