#An Ace from Beyond the Grave

[paramorerocker18]

An Ace from Beyond the Grave - Part 2

Dove had become a vigilante by force, using stealth and cunning to try and help those in the worst area of Gotham.

Or Reader doesn't know that Jason is the Red Hood. Red Hood doesn't realise that Reader is his first love from before his death. Jason doesn't know the extent of damage that his death caused.

CW: swearing, implied threat of SA, violence, trafficking ring, guns, poorly written fight scene

Part 1:

Dove

The threat echoed in her head and fear clawed into her heart as the realisation that she was outnumbered and the hope the captured children was about to be snuffed out once these men grabbed her and used her body for their gratification.

What the hell had she done. She was going to die in this warehouse and be tortured in front of the children she was meant to be saving.

There was suddenly a thud next to her and to the right of her their was a huge man clad in a red helmet with a gun in each hand. He was an absolute pillar of a man, at least 6 foot tall and he had appeared like some kind of angel of retribution from above.

Saviour was not a word she would have used to describe the Red Hood but there he stood like he had been carved from the heavens to vanquish those due retribution. Its seemed like another cruel twist of fate that she was going to be saved by Gothams newest crime lord who Dove felt nothing but hatred for.

The guards all changed the target of their guns to the new figure in the warehouse. "It's the Red Hood," the shortest of the hench men shouted and Dove could hear the fear in his voice.

The Red Hood said nothing and raised his gun to the middle trafficker and shot him in the head. "GO LEFT," the large man yelled at her.

She aimed her gun at the greasy man's kneecaps and shot three bullets whilst attempting to duck from the bullets being sent back at her. The bullet hit him causing a loud cry of curses to leave his mouth but that didn't stop her.

Running towards him, she connected her foot with a kick into his busted kneecap sending him sprawling to his back screaming in pain.

Lowering herself down stamping on his knee, "Looks like the only one being taught anything is you," she taunted him. He attempted to spit at her but the pain of the gunshot wound had clearly robbed his mouth of any moisture. "You fucking bitch, you fucking bitch!" He howled as she pushed her foot down harder.

Grabbing another syringe from her belt she injected the vile man, all of sudden she felt a searing pain in her calf. Looking down she saw the gash of where the man had tried to stab her in his drugged state but had only managed to cut her. His eyes rolled back in his head and he fell fully unconscious.

Pulling away from the man, she immediately went to the children. Four terrified faces looked up at her, they all reared away from her. Understandably given all they had gone through and the fact she had a mask covering half her face and a dark hood up. Dove quickly ripped down her hood. "Hi guys, I am here to help. My name is Dove and I am going to get you out of here and get you home I promise." She held her pinky out and even though none of the kids could grab it they seemed to recognise the solemn vow that she had proposed.

"I'm going to untie you and remove the material from your mouth now is that okay?" The little boy she asked nodded his head causing his curls to bounce with the movement. She checked he was ready and removed the gag and rope binding him and then continued the process with the other three. Each time confirming with the children that they were ready for her to untie them.

Answering all the questions the best she could, she quickly managed to get all four of the kids free.

"Fucking scumbags," she heard muttered across the warehouse. In the adrenaline of the gash on her leg and freeing the children, the Red Hood falling from the rafters had slipped her mind. She whirled around whilst drawing her gun pointing it directly at the crime lords chest.

"Seriously?" Hood chuckled out lowly, clearly finding amusement in Dove redrawing her gun. Anger flicking inside her, laughter was not the response she was looking for when aiming the barrel of a weapon at someone.

Although she wasn't sure what to have expected as a response, it certainly wasn't the modulated response of what sounded like a bratty teenager. Not letting that disarm her, the gun stayed pointed directly at his chest.

"What are you doing here Hood?"

"What do you think I am doing here?" The Red Hood hit back the aggravated tone only enhanced by the modulator. The light amused tone lost to his voice.

His quick change to anger reassuring Dove. That's better she thought, a twisted thought sure but she liked the idea of irritating the huge adonis of a man in front of her. Seriously why did he looked like he was sculpted by a virtuoso of art and Hood was their magnum opus. Now Dove was waxing poetry about the target of her next bullet. Get it together!

"I am not letting you have the children they are going home, I will fight you. I won't let you take them." There was no way she would win against the Red Hood, she had heard the stories about his showdown with Batman himself and that Hood nearly won.

She didn't know much about the newest crime lord to take over the territory she tried to protect. Hood didn't sell drugs to children and was protecting some of the working girls she knew. However that did not mean much in Gotham when it came to its illustrious gallery of rogues and villians.

Especially crime lords that sported that certain moniker. Dove hated him viciously for that alone, no matter what good Hood may have done for the Narrows, Hills and Bowery, his alias was enough for her to know he was evil. Regardless of any good she had heard, she wasn't stupid enough to let a known crime lord take the children. Gotham had taught her better than that.

Dove had learnt early that no one was to be trusted. "I have backup coming." She lied.

"First of all no you don't, there are signal jammers all around the site. If you had backup you wouldn't have charged in on your own against three people." Dove's mouth felt like she had dipped her tongue in acid. He knew she didn't have backup, her lie had fallen apart instantly. "Second, I'm here for the same reason you are to get these kids back home."

Damn her own signal jammers had come back round to bite her. She eyed him warily, not yet sure to drop her guard. Could you blame her it is Gotham after all.

The two vigilantes stood staring at the other guns pointed trying to assess the other when suddenly from behind her one of the children darted out.

"Mr Hood! You came to save me!" The scene in front of her was truly bizarre. Their was a small brown haired 8 year old child wrapped around the muscular left leg of the Red Hood staring up at the helmet in adoration. "I knew you would come to save me just like when you saved me and Andi before."

"Hey Melie, of course I would come save you. I said I always would." Red Hood replied in the softest voice that Dove had ever heard. A tone so soft she wouldn't have thought capable of the red Helmeted man who towered above her and was a wall of muscles.

"Miss Dove, I promise Mr Hood is a hero. You don't have to be mad at him." Melie the small girl said smiling at her.

Reluctantly Dove flicked the safety on and put her gun back in the holster. "Well Melie, any friend of yours is a friend of mine," she shot her a smile which made Melie absolutely beam.

"Miss Dove, you're bleeding," interrupted Thomas who had introduced himself as Dove had untied him.

"Oh, I am okay don't worry Thomas. Its only a graze."

It was not in fact just a graze now that the adrenaline was fading colossal waves of pain were starting to crash over her but that would need to wait. These kids needed to get out of here first.

Scanning the room, Dove spotted the computer system that had been crudely set up in the warehouse, inputting the flash drive she had been given by Oracle she quickly copied all the data on the PC. Oracle would be able to find what she needed.

Turning back to the Red Hood and the four children. "Let's get you to the station and bring you back home."

♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤

A/n let me know what you think !!

[kacievvbbbb]

Look I like Roger enough, I understand what he represents and I generally don’t think he was a bad dude. I do however think he was shit at interpersonal relationships because, what the fuck. Whitebeards crew is infinitely more well adjusted and I’d say he arguably had the more traumatic death.

Like what even, what kind of planning leads a 53 year old man to sire a child knowing he is dying of an incurable illness and is about to turn himself in to be excuted by the marines where he will cause so much chaos it is literally still turning the world on its head 22 years later. He knew he was going to cause so much of a stir that he literally disbanded his crew and told them to spread far and wide to keep them safe. Because he knew the marines would hunt them far and wide But yet he still brought a baby into the world. Babe. What the fuck? What even is that? What was the thought process. I sincerely hope it was an accident and not a deliberate attempt to bring about a new era.

Because if so babe I need to see the recipe or I’m afraid we can never let you cook again

[shitpostingkats]

We need to remember that, in a world where ghosts are real, this is an even more hilarious conversation.

[wrightandco]

Mia is literally dead and she still has to go to work like seriously Phoenix let a girl rest in peace

[pcktknife]

it is so funny i offhandedly said miles was ugly and you came in with his father's visage to question that statement

it makes me sad when ppl call phoenix ugly because when i played aa3 or whichever one gives you his profile i spent like 5-10 minutes awing over how cute he was 😔

[s0dium]

𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐑!!!

𝐒𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐫!𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐨 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮 𝐱 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐊𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Never in your wildest dreams did you think you’d find out that your crush, Geto Suguru, was just like you: a murderer. Not only that but you share the same passion; killing criminals and pedophiles! (Happy Kinktober) 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: DARK CONTENT, gore, mutilation, murder, mentions of pedophiles (y/n kills them), serial killing, unprotected sex, breeding, choking, teasing, knife play, whipped Suguru 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 10.3k 𝐀/𝐧: This is based HEAVILY on the novel Butcher and Blackbird by Brynne Weaver. The original idea is credited to Brynne Weaver ONLY. This work is fan fiction and is not intended for commercial purposes or to infringe on the intellectual property rights of the original author.

Being a serial killer who kills other killers, pedophiles, and rapists is a great hobby.

Until you find yourself locked in a cage.

For three days.

No AC.

With a body you carved up.

You glare at the fly-riddled corpse whose legs are kneeling opposite of you in the locked cage you were both trapped in. The air is thick with the putrid stench of decay, a relentless assault on your senses. The body's skin is pallid, marred by the writhing mass of white maggots that feast mercilessly. Where eyes once held gaze, now only hollow sockets remain, tediously scooped out and vacant. The ears too have been sheared off, leaving clean edges that blend into the mottled, blood-stained flesh. Its chest has been cracked open; ribs pried apart in a macabre mimicry of an unhinged broken cocoon, revealing the dark, empty cavity where a heart once beat.

Then, of course, the piste de resistance of your work, the removed eyes, ears, and heart rest in the corpse's upturned palms—placed with ceremonial care amidst the chaos of mutilation.

So now, if anyone were to walk down the steps of Gary Green House's basement, they would not only find his mutilated body, but the person who did it, trapped in a cage together.

"Fuck." You curse at yourself for the millionth time since you've been trapped here for the last three days. The cold realization that you've fallen into Gary’s final trap gnaws at your mind as relentlessly as the maggots at the corpse across from you. The cage, a cruel relic of Gary’s twisted pleasures, had seemed the perfect place for your ritual—turning the hunter into the hunted in his own den of horrors. But in your fervor to see him pay, you overlooked one crucial detail: the cage's sinister design, which sealed shut the moment its door swung closed.

The remote control, now a mocking symbol of freedom, lies just beyond the bars, on a small, grimy table. You remember the sickening click of the lock, the finality of it echoing in the cramped space as you turned back from the grisly task of dismembering Gary—his last, silent victory.

Even the idiot police could deduce that this was all your doing, seeing as all your bloody tools were still with you in your backpack. With fingerprints. It was just a matter of time before they opened the basement door.

You could practically hear Gary’s voice from beyond the grave: "Hah! Serves you right, you stupid bitch! That's what you get for killing me!" The taunt echoes in your head like a song over and over again and you're seriously contemplating banging your head against the iron bars.

"FUCK FINE!" You yell into the darkness. "I renounce my wicked ways!"

"That's a shame. I bet I would like your wicked ways."

You jump at the sound of a man's deep, smooth voice, the cadence of slight raspiness warming every note. Your curses cut the humid air from the startlement of the man's presence. How the hell did he even get in here? You didn't hear the basement door open. You scurry out of reach of the man who saunters into the thin thread of light from the narrow window, the glass opaque with fly shit.

"You seem to be in a predicament." He says stepping into view. The thin light from the window partially illuminates him, allowing you to make out his face. Oh rather, what is on his face.

Holy shit.

A ghost mask stares back at you, its hollow eyes and elongated mouth frozen in a chilling scream. The stark white of the mask contrasts sharply with the surrounding shadows, and you watch with wide eyes as he tilts his head.

Holy shit holy shit holy shit.

In any other situation, you might be fan-girling. You know exactly who you're staring at: the infamous Crucifer, a killer, like you, but notorious for his crucifixion of criminals in rather, flamboyant displays. The few eyewitness accounts of the Crucifer all mention the ghost mask, leaving no doubt in your mind about his identity.

While your hunting grounds have been Osaka, his have typically been Tokyo, but despite the geographical difference, his reputation precedes him. In all honesty, you shouldn’t be surprised he’s here. Your victim, Gary Greenwich, is notorious even among the authorities. Despite his crimes, the lack of solid evidence has always allowed him to slip through the cracks of the justice system, leaving him free to continue his heinous activities. He was high on your kill list, and it’s no surprise he was high on Crucifers as well.

He takes a few steps closer toward the cage to stare down at the corpse, bending to take a closer look.

"Well what happened here?" He chuckles.

You are on day three of no food. No water. The gnawing hunger in your stomach feels like a relentless beast, clawing at your insides with increasing ferocity. You wonder if your body has started to eat its own organs at this point.

You can't deal with this shit.

"Self defense." You say.

The man chuckles. "I doubt that, you're not his type." Despite his mask you can feel his eyes shift from the corpse to linger on you.

"And how would you know that?"

"Well disregarding the state in which you "self defense" left him, you're not a 6 year old boy. And," he steps closer so now he is inches away from the bars and his whole body is illuminated. "I make it my business to know."

You don't answer. Instead you watch as he crouches down to meet your gaze. You try to hide behind your tangled hair and folded limbs, giving him only your eyes.

And of course, just your luck, he is stunning

Black hair flows behind his mask and down his shoulder. He's wearing a black compression shirt that hugs every muscle of his biceps and forearms, accentuating his athletic build. His broad shoulders enhance his imposing presence, giving him the aura of a seasoned athlete. Black cargo pants complete his ensemble, practical and intimidating, with a hunting knife sticking out of his pocket, probably what he would've used on Gary if you hadn't got to him first.

Something about him looks familiar, something you can't put your finger on.

"I guess you made it your business to know too." He pauses before moving even closer so his mask is practically pressed against the iron bars. "Hey, you look pretty familiar."

You shift uncomfortably, feeling the prickle of anxiety creeping up your spine. Instinctively, you brush a tangled lock of hair from your face, wincing as it catches on your dry lips. The man's shoulders tense as if he has been electrocuted.

"Y/n?" His voice cuts through the thick silence like a knife.

Oh, what the hell.

You jerk your head up from your hunched posture, eyes wide in shock, meeting the unsettling, hollow eyes of the ghost mask. Your heart races, pounding loudly in your chest.

"Wha-"

"Oh my god, it is you!" He exclaims, his loud deep voice echoing through the basement.

"I'm sorry, I don't-" you stammer, confusion and fear knotting in your stomach.

"It's me," he interrupts, and with a swift motion, he takes off his mask. The sight of his familiar face makes your breath catch in your throat. "Suguru Geto."

Suguru Geto. The name alone sent ripples through your thoughts, dragging along memories and emotions you had long buried. Suguru wasn’t just any ordinary guy; he was a micro-celebrity in Tokyo, renowned for his breathtaking tattoo artistry. His ink adorned the bodies of celebrities, flaunted in TikToks and Instagram posts that garnered thousands of likes. His reputation was impeccable, his designs sought after by the elite.

You had crossed paths with Suguru a few times at various parties, your social circles occasionally overlapping due to mutual friends. Each encounter left an indelible mark on you. His presence was magnetic, drawing you in like a moth to a flame. It wasn’t just his talent that made him irresistible; it was everything about him. Those hawk-like eyes that seemed to pierce through to your very soul, the perfect curve of his lips that could shift from a smirk to a genuine smile in an instant, and those dimples that appeared whenever he graced you with that smile—each feature was a weapon, effortlessly disarming.

You, like many other girls, harbored a secret crush on Suguru Geto. It was impossible not to. That face alone could kill, and his charisma was the final blow.

And now, here he was, standing right in front of you, unmasked and undeniably real. The reality of it all hit you like a tidal wave, leaving you breathless and a little overwhelmed.

Suguru clears his throat, a small smirk playing on his lips from how obviously you are gawking at him.

"Shot in the dark here but are you the Mute Collector?"

You part your lips to say something but you can't seem to form the right words.

"I-"

Suguru's grin widens and a sharp laugh escapes his perfect mouth. "Oh my god. I knew it. I fucking knew they had it wrong about you with that bull shit profile they built. What was it, they said you were a 30 year old white man?" Suguru throws his head back and smiles at the ceiling. "And the Mute Collector? You? That's just awesome. I'm such a huge fan."

"Yeah..." You clear your throat and push your hair completely out of your face. He grins at you, as though awe struck, and if you weren't wearing 100 layers of grime on your skin you are sure he'd be able to see the blush flaming in your cheeks for a second.

"And you?" You nod toward the mask. "You are?" You don't know why you are feigning ignorance but something about humbling him seems tastier than actual food right now.

"Oh come on." Suguru's tone flattens and he brings the mask up next to his face.

"The Crucifer?"

You shake your head.

"The cross maker?"

You shake your head again. Lying through your teeth is fun.

"The Tokyo Butcher?" When you shake your head he sighs and stands up. "Well," he glances to Gary whose maggots have made their way to the empty eye sockets. "What do you say? We ditch this lousy scene and get something to eat. Maybe when you get food in your stomach you will remember some of my little nicknames."

Your eyes widen and your stomach growls loudly, reminding you of how long it's been since you last ate. You glance up at your Suguru, a mix of hope and suspicion in your gaze.

"Are you serious?" you ask, your voice hoarse from dehydration.

"Yeah, after we get you a shower, some clothes and burn the house down."

You gulp and stand to your feet. "Could we get burgers?"

Suguru grins before grabbing the remote and pointing it at the cage.

"Fine by me."

~

The Mute Collector.

Geto Suguru is sitting across from the fucking Mute Collector.

And god you are beautiful.

Not that he just realized it now. Like many others, he has always known how attractive you are; he just pushed it to the back of his mind. But now, knowing who you really are and what you do in your free time, your body has practically been encompassed in bright warm light and your head adorned with a halo. He watches as you down your 6th cup of water with a sigh and wipe your mouth with your sleeve.

The two of you sit in a cozy booth at a restaurant, the warm, smoky aroma filling the air. Suguru leans back with a beer in hand, watching you with a mix of amusement and caution. The waitress approaches, placing a large plate with a double cheeseburger and fries in front of you. Your eyes light up, and without wasting a second, you pick up the cheeseburger with your fingers and take a big bite, savoring the flavors.

Suguru chuckles, raising his beer in a mock toast. "You look like you've just found the Holy Grail."

He doesn't miss the way you stifle back a laugh, trying to speak through a mouthful of burger. "If the Holy Grail were covered in cheese and ketchup, then yeah, maybe."

He takes a sip of his beer, grinning. "I’ve never seen someone so excited about food. Maybe you should give up your little hobby and do food reviews."

"Well, that's what being trapped in a cage with the rotting corpse of a pedophile does to you I guess." You grumble, setting down the burger and taking another drink of water.

Suguru's eyes stay on you, and he takes the opportunity to really assess you. Your hair is damp, and the wetness seeps into the white Mickey Mouse shirt you're wearing, causing it to cling slightly to your skin and reveal the elegant lines of your collarbone. He bought that shirt and the shorts for you at a thrift store, and despite the fact that such clothes should look bad on anyone, you are rocking them effortlessly.

He can't help but notice that you didn't buy a bra, a fact that makes him smile to himself.

No bra.

"So tell me." Suguru sets his beer back on the table and leans in.

"The whole ears, eyes and heart thing." He waves his left hand in the air. "The police say it's satanic ritual stuff but I don't buy it."

You pause, a hint of a smile playing at your lips as you meet his gaze. "It's simple, really. Hear no evil, see no evil, fear no evil."

Suguru raises an eyebrow. "You have a way of making the macabre sound poetic."

You're about to reach for a fry, but he snatches it before your fingers could reach it.

"Why not the tongue?" He says. "You know, speak no evil."

You roll your eyes and snatch the fry out of his fingers. "Tongues are hard to cut, too slippery and make a mess."

He nods thoughtfully, leaning back in his seat. "You know, most people would be horrified to hear you talk like that."

"Good thing you’re not most people," you reply with a smirk.

"Touché."

He watches as your lips wrap around the thick fry and your teeth rip off half of it into your mouth.

No bra.

"What about you Suguru?" You lock eyes with him. "Why are you here?"

"Why am I here?"

"You heard me. You swoop in all superman-like, save me from the dipshit’s pedo dungeon and take me out for a double cheeseburger. Why are you here?"

Suguru shrugs and averts his gaze from your unyielding stare. Shit, your piercing eyes are almost making him sweat.

"Same thing you already did. I was going to skin him alive and and display the fucking monkey Jesus style infront of his house. At least, something like that."

"Yeah but why him? I thought your hunting grounds were in Tokyo?"

Your eyes widen slightly as the words hang in the air, the weight of your mistake sinking in immediately. You feel a rush of heat to your cheeks, a telltale sign of your embarrassment. Your lips part as if to take back the words, but it's too late; they've already been spoken.

A sly smile spreads across Sugurus face as he watches your face fall.

"Oh you totally know who I am Y/n."

"Fucking hell."

"You do! You know that I like to hunt near my home, how long have you been a part of my fan club?"

You roll your eyes and fall back into your seat. You blink rapidly, trying to maintain your composure, but the subtle tension in your jaw and the furrowing of your brow betray your embarrassment.

"So which one was your favorite? The monkey I strung up next to the police station? Or the one I flayed inside the Tokyo Union Church?"

"Oh my god I can already tell you are going to be insufferable." You grumble, the heat of embarrassment slowly dissipating as you take a deep breath. Suguru leans back, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he swirls the beer in his hand, watching you with an almost predatory curiosity. As seconds pass, Suguru assesses your face, following how your eyes dart around the room, searching for an escape route, and Suguru’s playful expression falters for a split second. He realizes with a sudden jolt that you're trying to leave. He can't have that. He needs to see you again.

"Hey speaking of suffering," Suguru clears his throat. "Have you heard about the women killings in Kyoto?"

Your eyebrows raise, curiosity piqued. "Yeah, I've heard. Pretty gruesome stuff. Why do you ask?"

A playful smile tugs at his lips. "How about a friendly competition? The killer's already taken six lives so far."

You tilt your head, your eyes narrowing slightly as you try to decipher his intentions. "What do you mean by a competition?"

Suguru leans in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "That's exactly what it sounds like. Who can hunt him down first?"

For a moment, you're taken aback, your eyes widening as you process his proposal. A mix of surprise and intrigue flickers across your face. "Are you serious?"

He chuckles, clearly enjoying your reaction. "As sin."

"And what do we get if we win?"

Suguru's eyes gleam with amusement and something else—admiration. "Bragging rights, of course. And maybe... another dinner like this one."

You throw your head back and let out a laugh. "Oh yeah? Who says I'll need you to get me another dinner?"

"Can't let you go hungry again. What do you say?”

~

You sit at your desk, the dim light of your laptop casting a pale glow on your face as you scroll through articles about the woman killer from Kyoto. The room is quiet, save for the occasional click of your mouse and the hum of the laptop. Your phone buzzes, and you glance at the screen to see Shoko’s name. With a smile, you answer the call.

"Hey Shoko, how’s your night shift?" you greet her with a teasing tone.

Shoko’s laugh crackles through the speaker. "Busy as always. Just patched up a guy who thought he could outsmart a bulletproof vest with sheer willpower. Spoiler: he couldn’t."

You chuckle, shaking your head. "Sounds like my type of guy."

By day, Shoko is your best friend and a dedicated med student, excelling in her studies with a, albeit, half hearted, passion for helping others. But when the sun sets, she transforms into the notorious Dr. Reverse, the underground doctor every criminal and lowlife turns to in their time of need. Using her medical expertise, she serves those who cannot seek help through legal means, operating in the shadows and patching up criminals who live by a different set of rules. In addition to her medical skills, she also deals in poisons, further cementing her reputation in the underworld.

You first met Shoko in a moment of desperation. After cornering a serial rapist, you were attacked with a machete, almost severing your arm. With nowhere else to turn, you sought out Dr. Reverse. Shoko skillfully sewed you up and, in the process, deduced that you were the infamous Mute Collector. To your surprise, she didn't seem to care about your identity, and you, in turn, didn't question her underground business or her dealings with poison. This mutual understanding and acceptance laid the foundation for a strong bond, and you've been best friends ever since. 

Shoko laughed, a sound that always manages to lift your spirits. "Right? Anyway, what's up? I saw your SOS text."

You hesitate, glancing at the photo of Geto Suguru on your screen on a separate tab. His annoyingly white teeth glare back at you, and you try to resist staring at his six pack in an instagram photo someone took of him at a pool party.  His dark eyes seemed to stare right through you, as if mocking your indecision. "It's about Geto."

There was a brief pause before Shoko's voice came back, tinged with curiosity. "Geto? What about him?"

You take a deep breath, your fingers drumming nervously on the desk. "He's the Crucifier."

Shoko's reaction was immediate and loud. "Geto is what?" she practically yelled through the phone, causing you to wince.

"The Crucifier. I know." You scoffed, rolling your eyes at the absurdity of it all. "Can you believe it?"

Shoko let out a low whistle. "Wow. I mean, he always seemed like a guy with secrets, but I never pegged him for a serial killer, I mean, someone like you."

"Yeah, well, here we are," You mutter, rubbing your temples. You focus your attention back on your computer screen. Suguru is squeaky clean, not even a bad review on his website. There was only his questionable taste in best friends: Gojo Satoru—the biggest playboy and the infamous heir to the Gojo Company, Japan's largest and most influential corporation. Gojo's notoriety was legendary, his exploits plastered across tabloids and whispered in gossip circles. You’ve met, and been hit on by the man a few times, and not once did you fall for any of his slimy cheap antics. No, Geto Suguru is who your eyes fell on. 

 "And now he’s proposed some sort of competition."

"A competition?" Shoko's voice was practically dripping with amusement. "Like a hunting competition?”

You let out a snort of air through your nose. “Basically.”

Are you gonna do it?"

"I don't know," You admit, leaning forward and resting your chin on your hand. "I said I would, but I don't know. I barely know the guy. Well, I thought I did."

"Well, you should," Shoko said, her tone shifting to one of gentle teasing. "Besides, isn't this your chance to get closer to your crush?"

You feel your cheeks flush. "Shoko, seriously? Come on, that was ages ago."

"Hey, I'm just saying," she replies, laughter bubbling up again. "This could be your big break."

"You're impossible," you grumble, though you can't help but smile. "How's the side business, by the way?"

"Thriving," she says and you can practically see her small smile through the phone.. "You'd be amazed at how many people need a little untraceable something for their enemies."

"I don't doubt it," you say, shaking your head. "Just stay safe, okay?"

"You too, Mute Collector," Shoko says, her voice softening slightly. "And remember, if you ever need anything, you know where to find me."

"Always," you reply, your smile growing wider. "Thanks, Shoko. Talk to you soon."

"Later," she says, and the line goes dead.

You lean back in your chair again, your thoughts drifting back to Geto Suguru and the strange, dangerous world you both inhabit. As much as you hate to admit it, Shoko is right. This is your chance, not just to catch some sick killer, but to uncover the secrets that lie hidden beneath Suguru’s enigmatic exterior.

With a sigh, you close your laptop and stand up, determination settling in your chest. The competition awaits, and you have a feeling it's going to be a game changer.

~

“What’s got your panties in a twist?”

Suguru rolls his eyes at the white hair man’s mocking tone and continues to stare at his phone. It's been 10 minutes. How long does it take for someone to respond to a text. Suguru lay sprawled on the couch, his eyes fixed on his phone. Across the room, Gojo was bustling about in the kitchen, the sound of utensils clinking and food sizzling filling the air.

"Is this about Y/n? The Mute Collector or whatever?" Gojo asked, glancing over his shoulder with a mischievous grin.

Suguru didn't respond, his gaze unwavering from the screen. He could feel Gojo's eyes on him, the scrutiny almost tangible.

"I don't think I've seen you put this much effort into a woman since, like... ever," Gojo continued, his tone teasing. He turned back to his cooking, the corners of his mouth twitching with amusement.

Suguru's jaw tightened, but he kept his silence. Gojo, undeterred, pressed on. "Besides the fact that she's the Mute Collector, what do you even see in Y/n? Well, I guess she does have other assets," he chuckled.

"Keep her name out of your fucking mouth, you prick," Suguru snapped, his voice low and menacing.

Gojo raised his hands in mock surrender, a laugh escaping his lips. "Alright, alright, no need to get all territorial."

Suguru continued to stare at his phone, his fingers hovering over the keys. "How long does it take for someone to respond to a fucking text" he mutters under his breath.

Gojo leaned against the counter, arms crossed. "Maybe she's busy. Or maybe she's just messing with you. You know, playing hard to get."

Suguru finally looks up, his eyes narrowing. "She doesn't play games. And she's not hard to get—she's hard to keep."

Gojo raises an eyebrow, clearly amused by Suguru's reaction. “Touchy, touchy,” he mutters, returning to his culinary task.

Just then, Suguru's phone pings. His heart skips a beat as he sees your name flash on the screen. He quickly opens the message, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he reads your response.

Y/n: Fine, I'll do it. But what are the details?

Suguru: Oh, I'm thrilled

Y/n: Shut up.

Suguru: The rules are simple: whoever deduces the monkey’s identity first and guts the bastard wins.

Y/n: And how do I know you don’t already have a head start?

Suguru: I guess you'll just have to trust me. 

Y/n: Trust you? That’s rich coming from someone who literally stabs people in the back.

Suguru lets out a snort of air from your comment catching Gojo’s attention. “Ah, there it is. The smile of a man who's finally gotten what he wants.”

Suguru doesn't dignify that with a response. Instead, he focuses on your message, feeling a grin grow on his lips.

Suguru: You wound me, truly. But where’s the fun without a little challenge? Besides, I wouldn’t want to make it too easy for you

Y/n: Easy, huh? I suppose you think you’re quite the genius, then?

Suguru: Only compared to the average monkey. You, on the other hand, might actually make this interesting.

Y/n: Is that a compliment or are you just trying to butter me up?

Suguru: Can’t it be both? 

Y/n: Oh, don't worry. You’re not the only one who enjoys a good chase. But don’t cry when I beat you at your own game.

Suguru: Cry? Please. I’ll be too busy admiring you in action. It’s a win-win for me.

Y/n: Flattery will get you nowhere, Suguru.

Suguru: Really?

Suguru: Not even a little bit princess 🥺?

Y/n: *One attachment*

You send an image of your hand flipping him off. Your middle finger nail is painted black and he assumes so are all your other fingers. His heart thuds against his chest. God, how he would love to have those nails dragging down his back. His dick twitches just thinking about it. 

Gojo snickers as if he can read Suguru’s thoughts and Suguru considers throwing his phone at the smug white hair man when Gojo’s phone rings. Any humor falls off Gojo’s features like snow from a shaken tree branch. He glances at the caller ID, his eyes narrowing, and picks up the phone with a serious tone.

“This is Gojo.” He says. His voice is gruff as he responds to the caller with clipped “yes” and “no” answers, his timbre low. “I'll be there in 30 minutes.” 

When he sets down the phone, Suguru meets his blue eyes, Gojo’s brief smile is grim.

“Trouble?” Suguru asks.

“Trouble.” Gojo repeats.

On the exterior Gojo is Japan's most infamous playboy and philanthropist. But by night he is the devil's tool, the country's most lethal assassin for anyone from politicians to presidents.  What Suguru and you do for a hobby, Gojo Satoru does for his job.

Gojo dumps his hot food in a container, grabs his hunting knife coat and bag and heads for the door. Before he exits, he turns around to lock eyes with Suguru.

“Be safe. A woman killer is a deadly combo.” He says.

Suguru chuckles, and for a second he doesn't know if Gojo’s talking about you or the guy in Kyoto. “You to ass hat.”  

~

You can't believe you are doing this. 

You can't believe that you took up Suguru’s competition, spent 120 dollars on a train and hotel room at Kyoto and an extra 20 on room service. Moreover you can't believe that you are here, hiding in a forest of bamboo shoots at the dead of night, watching some man who may or may not be the Kyoto women killer.

It’s a warm summer night, and every time the wind blows, the bamboo shoots rustle against each other, creating a haunting melody that sets your nerves on edge. The air is thick with the scent of earth and foliage, and the occasional hoot of an owl punctuates the silence. You’re crouched low, your body tense, watching a man named Noaya Zenin who you followed out here. He seems to be wandering aimlessly, but you know better than to underestimate him. The Zenin clan's reach is long and shadowy, and their involvement in the Kyoto women killings is a tangled web you’ve been unraveling. All key witnesses were either paid off by the Zenin clan or had lawyers representing them from the Zenin clan. The pattern was too precise to be a coincidence.

Your heart thuds in your chest, adrenaline coursing through your veins. The thrill of the chase, the hunt, makes your senses sharper, every movement and sound more pronounced. You can feel the need creeping up on you, slowly reaching your brain until your skin itches with anticipation. 

Each minute feels like an eternity as you scrutinize Noaya’s every move. He stops occasionally, looking around as if sensing he’s being watched, and you hold your breath, pressing yourself closer to the ground. The moonlight filters through the dense bamboo, casting eerie shadows that dance with the wind. Your mind races, piecing together fragments of evidence and suspicion. If Noaya Zenin is indeed the killer, catching him here could be the breakthrough you need.

“Hiya.”

A scream almost rips through you when you feel someone's breath against your ear, but you quickly cover your mouth and whip around. Of course, you’re met face to face with the man you least wanted to see right now. Familiar hazel eyes gaze back at you, glinting with mischief and amusement. Suguru is crouched right next to you, his nose mere inches from yours, a sly smirk on his face. You didn’t even hear him approach.

“Suguru, what the fuck?” you hiss, keeping your voice low. Your first instinct is to grab your knife out of your pocket and press it against his throat but he holds both his hands up as if surrendering, stopping you.

“Woah woah princess, let's cool our engines.” He chuckles softly, clearly enjoying your reaction.

Your pulse is still racing, but you force yourself to calm down. “You could have given me a heart attack. How did you even find me?” You seethe.

“I have my ways,” he replies cryptically, his smirk widening. “Besides, I couldn’t let you have all the fun, now could I? So,” his eyes flicker to Noaya, who still seems to be staring at his phone. “Who are we looking at?”

“We?” You scoff and roll your eyes. “Are you kidding me? There is no we. This is a competition, remember? Go do your own research.”

Suguru raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Oh, come on. You know you love my company.”

Before you can retort, Noaya picks up his phone. You both strain to listen, and you catch his words clearly.

“Yeah, I’m at the bamboo forest. See you soon, babe.” He then hangs up the phone with a click and puts it back in his backpack. But just when you're about to turn back to Suguru and rip into the man, Noaya pulls something else out too. A hunting knife. A large one at that with serrated ends and a pointed tip that glints in the moon light. Just like the one used on the victims. And as if things couldn't get any more apparent, you watch as a wicked grin spreads across his face when he draws the blade diagonally through the air.

“Oh shit,” you whisper, eyes wide. “That’s definitely him. That’s like some comically evil villain shit right there.”

“Dibs,” Suguru whispers back, a glint of excitement in his eyes as he puts on his ghost mask. “I call fucking dibs.” He stands up, the crunch of leaves making Noaya whip around and stare right at the area you both hid in.

For a solid 5 seconds your two flabbergasted to even form words, you can only watch as Suguru steps out from the bamboo shoots and onto the trail, slowly walking toward Noaya like a lion cornering a gazelle. 

Or course, Noaya turns, screams like a little girl, and makes a hard right straight into the forest of bamboos.

“Oh hell no,” you mutter, leaping up and chasing after him. You sprint through the forest, the warm summer air thick and humid around you. Each footfall is muffled by the dense undergrowth, but the occasional snap of a twig or crunch of leaves marks your frenzied pace. Moonlight filters through the dense canopy, casting ghostly shadows that dance along the forest floor, creating an ever-shifting maze of light and dark.

Your breath comes in quick, controlled bursts, each inhale filling your lungs with the earthy scent of the forest. Adrenaline surges through your veins, sharpening your senses. The rhythmic pounding of your heart in your chest matches the rapid beat of your footsteps. Ahead, you can just make out the faint silhouette of Noaya, his panicked movements betraying his desperation.

Branches claw at your clothes and face, but you push through, eyes locked on your target. The thrill of the chase ignites every nerve, propelling you forward with a singular focus. Suguru’s presence is a constant just behind you, his footsteps a steady reminder of the competition driving you both. You can hear his breaths, steady and calculated, mirroring your own.

The path twists and turns, the bamboo growing thicker, creating a claustrophobic tunnel. You duck and weave, dodging low-hanging branches and vaulting over fallen logs. The forest floor is uneven, riddled with roots and hidden pitfalls, but your reflexes are sharp, your movements instinctual.

The thrill, the excitement, the danger—it all converges in this moment. You are a predator in your element, and your prey is within reach. The bamboo forest seems to blur around you, time stretching and contracting with each heartbeat. This is what you live for, the ultimate test of skill and nerve, the ultimate game of life and death.

Just as you’re about to close the distance, your fingertips brushing the fabric of Noaya’s shirt, he whirls around with surprising speed. The moonlight catches the gleam of his hunting knife as it arcs through the air. Instinct takes over, and you try to dodge, but the blade slices across your palm, leaving a hot, stinging line of red in its wake.

For a split second, time seems to slow. You see the wild desperation in Noaya’s eyes, the way his chest heaves with exertion and fear. But there’s no pain, only a white-hot fury that floods your veins, fueling your next move.

Your grip tightens around the hilt of your own knife, slick with blood but steady. The cut on your palm feels like a mere scratch compared to the surge of adrenaline that courses through you. With a fierce snarl, you lunge forward, using the momentum to drive Noaya back a step.

He stumbles, his confidence faltering as he realizes the severity of his mistake. You don’t give him a chance to recover. You move with a predatory grace, every muscle coiled and ready to strike. The forest around you fades into a blur of green and shadow, all your focus locked on the man in front of you.

Noaya swings wildly, his movements frantic and uncoordinated. You sidestep his attacks with practiced ease, your fury giving you a sharp, clear edge. The scent of blood mingles with the earthy aroma of the forest, and your pulse pounds in your ears like a war drum.

You close the distance again, this time with a calculated precision. Your free hand shoots out, grabbing his wrist and twisting it until the knife clatters to the ground. Noaya yelps in pain, his eyes widening in terror. The tables have turned, and he knows it.

Your injured hand, still bleeding, clamps down on his shoulder with a vice-like grip. You lean in close, your breath hot against his ear. “Nice try,” you hiss, the fury in your voice making him shudder. “But it’s over.”

With a swift, brutal motion, you plunge your knife into his chest. The blade sinks into flesh with a sickening thud, and Noaya's eyes widen in shock and agony. Blood spurts from the wound, hot and sticky, spraying across your face in a macabre mist. The initial strike is met with a gasp, a desperate, choking sound that fuels the savage fire within you.

A wicked grin spreads across your face, the thrill of dominance electrifying your senses. You pull the knife out, feeling the resistance of tissue and bone, and then plunge it in again, and again. Each thrust is accompanied by a wet, squelching sound, a symphony of carnage that drowns out the world around you. Blood flows freely, pooling at your feet and soaking into the earth.

Noaya’s body jerks and spasms with each stab, his strength fading with every violent assault. His once panicked eyes grow dull, the life draining from them as you continue your relentless attack. The coppery tang of blood fills the air, mingling with the scent of the forest, creating a heady mixture that makes your pulse race even faster.

You lose yourself in the rhythm of the violence, the way your muscles strain and flex with each plunge of the knife. Blood splatters across your face and clothes, warm and viscous, painting you in the evidence of your victory. Your grin widens, a feral expression of triumph and fury.

Amidst your frenzied stabbings, Suguru places a hand on your shoulder. "I think—" he begins, but when you turn around to face him he immediately shuts up.

Your eyes are wide, pupils contracted like a deranged predator. Your hair flows wildly in the wind as you grab Suguru's throat with your bloody hand, smearing the crimson on his skin and pressing him against a tree. 

"This woman-killer fucker is mine." You seethe.

His dick strains against his cargo pants waistband. You look divine.

“ Of course, All yours baby.” He coos.

~

Geto Suguru would be lying if he said that watching you tear apart that woman-killer wasn't the hottest thing he had ever seen. 

To Suguru, you looked divine. The moonlight accentuated the sharp angles of your face, casting shadows that danced across your blood-splattered skin. Your eyes, wild with the remnants of fury, glowed with an unearthly intensity. The contrast of crimson against your complexion made you seem otherworldly, a dark goddess of vengeance. Suguru couldn’t tear his eyes away, mesmerized by the raw, primal beauty you exuded in that moment.

The walk back to your hotel was silent, but not because you were soaked in blood or because he felt awkward. More like it was because the only think he could think to say is “You are so fucking hot.”

Now here he is, twiddling his thumbs as he stands outside of your hotel door, trying to think of the right thing to say to you because god he needs to see your face one last time before he goes to bed.

He raises his hand to knock, but before he can, the door swings open. You stand there, your hair wet and smelling faintly of vanilla. You’ve clearly just come out of the shower. A tank top clings to your damp skin, and sports shorts hug your thighs. His eyes widen slightly, and he gulps, struggling to keep his composure. 

No bra.

The sight makes his mouth go dry.

"Just checking to see if everything is good," he says, nodding toward your bandaged hand.

You feel yourself fidget in your place and you try to flash a small smile but your emotions betray you. What if you freaked him out? What he saw back there, what you did back there, that was you, the raw you. Behind all the layers of kind smiles and pleasantries, in many ways, you were no different than an animal, consumed by your predatory instincts. You wouldn't blame him if he never contacted you again after this. Shit, did you just fuck up everything?

 His presence fills the doorway, and you’re acutely aware of the tension between you two.

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” you reply, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “Thanks for asking.”

His eyes flicker down to your hand, then back up to meet yours. “How’s the hand?” he asks, genuine concern in his voice.

You hold it up and wiggle your fingers slightly. “It’ll heal. No big deal.”

Silence fills the void between you two and you clear your throat, searching for something to say to break the awkward silence, but he beats you to it.

“Mind if I come in?” he asks, a smirk playing on his lips as he leans against the doorframe. “Or are you planning to keep all the fun out here in the hallway?”

You roll your eyes, though you can’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “Sure, come in. But I warn you, it’s a mess.”

“I’m sure I can handle it,” he quips, stepping inside. His eyes scan the room, taking in the organized chaos. Bandages and clothes are scattered around the floor and he doesn't miss the splatter of blood on the white sheets of the hotel bed. After a moment, Suguru turns around and takes a step closer to you, like he’s examining you. 

You tilt your head slightly, letting a smirk play on your lips. "So, now that I’ve won the bet, what do I get?"

He chuckles, the sound low and smooth, as he takes another step closer, closing the distance between you. "I was wondering when you’d bring that up." 

You arch an eyebrow, trying to keep your composure despite the way he’s looking at you, like you’re the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen. "Well? I’m waiting. What’s my prize?"

Suguru stops just inches from you. "I don’t know," he quips, "What do you want?"

You let out a short laugh, though it’s clear you’re testing him now. "That’s a big question."

Suguru's eyes darken slightly, his playful demeanor shifting into something more serious, more intense. He leans in just a fraction, his breath warm against your skin. "Try me."

The tension between you two is palpable, electric. You’re the first to break the silence, your voice quieter now, almost hesitant. "I want," you pause, averting your gaze from Suguru’s hawkish one. “I want to know if I scared you.” The question slips out before you can stop it, your bravado faltering as doubt creeps in.

Suguru blinks, then a slow smile spreads across his face. "Scare me?" He repeats, as if the idea itself is laughable. He steps even closer, forcing you to take a step back until the backs of your knees hit the edge of the bed. "Scare me?” He repeats again. “You didn’t scare me," he continues, his voice low and sincere. "You… captivated me. I have never, and I mean never, seen something so magnificent as what you did. And that's saying a lot because I've done a shit ton of magnificent things.”

You sit down on the bed, more out of necessity than choice, as he looms over you. Your heart is pounding in your chest, and you feel a mix of emotions—relief, curiosity, and something much more dangerous.

"What are you doing?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper as he leans in, his hands resting on either side of you, trapping you in place.

He smiles, a slow, almost wicked grin that sends shivers down your spine. "Well, I thought I might kiss you now, you know, after telling you how magnificent you are.” He tilts his head. “Is that a bad idea?"

Your breath catches in your throat as the weight of his words sinks in. You forget to breathe.

You finally find your voice, though it’s a bit shakier than you’d like. "That depends…"

"On?" He asks, his face inching closer to yours, his gaze locked onto your lips.

"On how good you are at it," you murmur.

He doesn’t need any more encouragement. Suguru closes the remaining distance, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that’s as intense as it is tender. It’s a slow, deliberate connection, his hands moving to cradle your face as if you’re something precious, something worth savoring.

The kiss deepens, and all the tension that had been building between you two finally snaps, leaving nothing but raw desire in its wake. You respond in kind, your hands gripping the front of his shirt, pulling him closer as if you can’t get enough.

When you finally pull apart, both of you are breathless, and the world seems to have shrunk down to just the two of you in this moment. Suguru’s forehead rests against yours, and he smiles, a real, genuine smile that you can feel in your bones.

"So," he says, his voice husky and low. "How was that?"

You laugh softly, still trying to catch your breath. "Not bad," you admit, your fingers running through his black hair. "Not bad at all."

"Good," he replies, his lips brushing against yours in a whisper of a kiss. "Because I plan on doing it again."

Suguru’s lips are on yours again before you can even catch your breath, this time more insistent, more demanding. He’s not asking for permission anymore; he’s claiming what he wants, and it makes your head spin. The kiss deepens as his tongue slips past your lips, exploring your mouth with a slow, deliberate intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. You can taste him—warm, intoxicating—and you find yourself leaning into his lips, craving more.

His hand, warm and firm, slides down your side, tracing the curve of your waist before coming to rest between your thighs. The touch is electrifying, sending a jolt of sensation through you, and you gasp against his mouth, your heart pounding in your chest.

But it’s too much, too fast. Your mind races, and you instinctively pull back, breaking the kiss. “Wait,” you murmur, your voice breathless, “I dont know if we should….” You avert your gaze and turn your head toward the wall but Suguru grabs your chin, forcing you to look right into his hazel eyes. Then, he dips his head to whisper in your ear.

“Aw come one Y/n” He grazes your earlobe with his teeth. “I’ve been on my best behavior, a good boy,” Suguru pauses to deliver a soft kiss to your temple. “I've been waiting, waiting ever since I met you in that cage to do this. Don't I deserve a reward for my patience?” 

You thickly gulp as he rubs the sides of your neck with his lips.

“I’ve been-” He kisses your jaw. “Such a-” he kisses his way up to your mouth. “Good boy.”

You cave. 

As his words sink in, you feel your resolve crumbling, the weight of his desire pressing down on you in the most intoxicating way. Before you can even process what’s happening, Suguru's strong arms wrap around you, lifting you off the bed with effortless ease. His grip is firm but gentle, as if he's afraid of breaking you, and you can't help but let out a soft gasp as he lifts you off the bed and up so your head rests on the plush hotel pillow. His eyes lock onto yours, dark with intent, and you feel your breath hitch as the world narrows down to just the two of you. The room is filled with the sound of your breathing, heavy and uneven, mingling with the quiet rustle of sheets as he leans over you.

“I know you have been thinking about this too.” He coos. Suguru’s hands move with a deliberate slowness, as if savoring the moment. His fingers curl around the hem of your tank top, and with a slow, deliberate motion, he begins to lift it. The cool air hits your skin as he pulls the fabric up and over your head, exposing you to his hungry gaze. But before you can feel self-conscious, his lips are on your newly exposed skin, pressing gentle kisses along your collarbone, his warm breath fanning over your skin.

“Gorgeous,” he murmurs between kisses, his voice filled with awe and reverence. “Just so gorgeous.”

His hands are on your shorts next, tugging them down your hips with the same careful slowness, as if he’s unwrapping the most precious gift. As the fabric slips down your legs, he trails kisses along the newly exposed skin, his lips brushing against your thighs, your knees, your calves, until the shorts are discarded on the floor.

Now you’re lying before him in just your underwear, and the way he looks at you makes your heart pound. His eyes are dark and intense, filled with a hunger that makes your entire body flush with heat. “You’re gorgeous,” he repeats, his voice thick with emotion. “Just so damn gorgeous.”

Suguru straightens up slightly, his hands moving to the hem of his own shirt. In one fluid motion, he pulls it over his head and tosses it aside, revealing his bare chest. The sight of him makes your breath catch—his body is lean and athletic, muscles defined and sculpted from years of discipline and training. Tattoos cover his skin in an elaborate tapestry. He’s handsome, impossibly so, and the sight of him like this, just inches away, makes your pulse quicken.

He doesn’t stop there. His fingers move to the waistband of his sweatpants, and he slides them down, revealing more of his skin, his strong legs, until he’s kneeling before you in just his boxers. The fabric clings to him in a way that leaves little to the imagination, and you can’t help but stare, mesmerized by the sheer physicality of him.

Suguru catches your gaze, a small, knowing smile tugging at his lips. “Something catches your eye princess?”

You nod, “Yes. You. All of you.” Your eyes tracing every line and curve of his body. He’s more than just handsome—he’s breathtaking, a perfect combination of strength and beauty that leaves you feeling weak in the best way possible.

He leans down again, his body hovering over yours, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, “Good, wouldn't want you to be disappointed.”

With that, he captures your lips in a heated kiss, his hands trailing down your sides, touching, feeling, exploring. 

You are too lost in the kiss not to notice his hands slipping under your underwear and making their way to your dripping cunt, and when they do, you jump at the feeling of his index finger tracing your slit.

"Gotta get you ready baby.?" Suguru hums and you shake you head vigorously.

"No please Sugu~, I can take it."

You don't have to tell him twice.

In one fluid motion Suguru tears off your underwear, lays you on your back and positions himself between your legs.

"Been waiting to do this for so long," he murmurs as he pulls down his boxers and whips out his dick. You thickly gulp at the sight, you could've guessed he was big not this big, could he even fit in you? A white bead of precum dribbled from his pretty pink tip and down his length and he uses the liquid to stroke himself in a few fluid motions.

You could hear your heart in your ears and adrenaline coursed through your veins at rocket fire speed. The need in between your legs was too much, it was clouding your head and twisting your stomach so tight you almost felt sick. You jolt when his fat tip bumps into your clit; collecting your juices before pressing against your quivering hole.

"Suguru please~" You whine and nearly miss the way his ears go bright red at your words

"I know baby, I know. Don't worry, lift your hips for me love?”

You oblige and immediately when you do so you're struck with the feeling of his length spreading you so helplessly wide and his tip smashing against something which must be your cervix you think. It’s painful, but in the pain is so much pleasure. He presses his forehead against yours as he slides into you, gripping the sheets with his supporting hand as your hot, wet entrance swallows his cock. Instinctively, you're cunt squeezed around the foreign intrusion, trying to push it out, making Suguru let out a low groan of his own and pushing even deeper into you. 

“F-fuck I can feel you doing it to me,” he said hoarsely.

His fingers gently press into the skin of your hip, guiding and steadying you as he pulls back and thrusts into you. The sudden friction and collision with your G-spot knocks the wind out of your lungs. Ticklish pleasure courses through your veins and you immediately throw your head back against the wall as Suguru thrusts into you.

"Hnghh, s-so good~~" You whine. It was dizzying, the curvature of his dick digging itself against your g-spot, scraping against your vaginal walls every time he backed his hips up.

Simultaneously, his other hand sought yours, finding it with a purposeful tenderness. His fingers intertwined with yours, locking them together in a grip that was both a clasp and a caress.

You dont even realize that your eyes are closed until Suguru whispers into your ear.

“Come on baby, open those pretty eyes, look at me.”

You do as he says and when you do you feel your heart thud in your chest. Suguru’s eyes were fixated completely on you, how you were reacting, as his hips were continuously slamming into your body as if it were clockwork. The sight alone had your walls clamping down on him, earning a groan from the base of his chest. 

Suddenly, the hand that had been intertwined with yours released its grip and began to rummage through Suguru’s discarded pants. Your breath hitched, eyes glazed over as you watched him retrieve a knife from his pocket, unsheathing it effortlessly with a flick of his finger. The sharp glint of the blade caught your attention from beneath Suguru’s body, even as he continued thrusting into you, not missing a beat.

Your body reacted instinctively, clenching at the sight, drawing a low, dark chuckle from Suguru.

“Hah, I knew it,” he said, his voice laced with a teasing edge as he brought the cold steel to the base of your throat. “You’re just a slut for knives, aren’t you?”

A moan escaped your lips, the sound betraying any chance of denial. Suguru took it as an admission, pressing the blade firmly against the skin of your throat as he angled his hips to hit even deeper inside you. The cool metal at your throat was electrifying, but it was his other hand, strong and unyielding, that sent a euphoric thrill coursing through you. His fingers flexed, tightening around your neck, the pressure intensifying.

It wasn’t just the air being cut off—it was the dizzying, intoxicating pleasure that came with it. The way his grip constricted, pushing you to the edge of control, ignited something raw inside. Every squeeze of his hand made your body burn hotter, a perfect balance between pain and pleasure, leaving you gasping for more.

What a primal dirty sight you where, being choked with a blade against your throat while fucked brutaly. Even the devil would clutch his rosaries.  

"Were we doing it like this in your head baby?" Suguru grunts, his Adam apple bobs as he groans from the pleasure of how fucking heavenly your pussy feels. “Because we were doing it like this in mine.” Good? Try euphoric, how could he ever think his fist could substitute the wet squeeze of your cunt?

You can't even open your mouth to respond. The friction of his dick against your walls and the adrenaline from the knife is just too good and as his pace intensified, a dizzying warmth spread through you, filling every corner of your being with a euphoric haze. The sensation of being completely enveloped, utterly connected, sent electric flesh arrows of pleasure through your body, making your eyes flutter and roll back slightly in sheer bliss. Every motion Suguru makes, every time his fat tip collides with your cervix, leaves behind a trail of sparkling heat that seems to light you from within.

"Come on eyes on me when I fuck you baby~" Suguru releases his hold from your neck and snakes his fingers between your body , finding your clit and pressing down on the pearl back and forth with the pad of index finger. "Tell me how good you feel, tell me how badly you want to cum.

He doesn’t slow the ministrations on your clit for a second as he snaps his hips into you with primal vigor, your breasts bouncing from the brutality.

"So good Sugu!" You sob. You cant even open your eyes from the colors you're seeing behind your lids. Every time your pussy squeezes around him not only do bolts of pleasure shoot up your body but a ring of milky white cum forms around the base of his cock.

Suguru’s eyes are locked on how good you're taking him - the fat of his head has a hard time popping out with how greedy your cunny is being. He lets out a sharp moan at how wet you are on the inside.

"S-shit baby wanna feel you cum on me, been waiting so long." Suguru is not a whining man but here he is practically stumbling over his words. Fuck, he wants to keep himself inside you forever. He wants your kisses, your skin, your touch, your blood, your lips, to be his to claim until you die together. No one has seen, truly seen him, before you. You are what he thinks about when he wakes up, when he is eating, when he is plunging his knife into some worthless monkey. You are his goddess. 

The world beyond this intimate cocoon of warmth and breath seemed distant, irrelevant. His gaze was locked with yours, deep and unwavering, a silent communication that tethered you through the mind numbing ecstasy.

Then, he reels his hips back and slams into you in a new angle that has your body jerking.

“Found it didn't I?” He breathes through a smile and pummels into you with vigor. And your about to disagree with him, insist that the feeling is too new and foreign to feel good when all of a sudden your body begins to shake and your head starts to feel fuzzy

And suddenly—you feel it. What you’ve been craving for and what you have seen in porn.

Its like all your body's energy centers are activating at once and your left utterly helpless to the feeling of tingling ecstasy wrapping your brain and stomach.

You dont know how to tell him that something is happening, not when the pleasure is too immense your barely breathing full breaths. But he understands once again the words you tried desperately to communicate.

“Do it baby. Cum. I’ll fill you up, and if it spills I'll fuck it back into you"

So you do.

Release washed over you in an all-encompassing wave, radiating out from your core to the very tips of your fingers and toes. It swept through you like a storm, leaving a trail of starbursts in its wake. Your body arched instinctively, clinging to Suguru as the wave crested, then gently, slowly, began to ebb.

“Ah, princess, please,” he moaned. “Be a good girl and take it all, yeah?” 

Your fingers trailed up his shoulder, only to drag them back down his spine, nails biting into his skin as he buried himself deep inside you, releasing with a powerful shudder. His movements grew erratic, hips pressing yours firmly into the mattress as his hot breath skimmed across your neck, ragged and heavy.

The world outside fades away, leaving just the two of you in this moment, lost in each other, with nothing but the sound of your breathing and the feel of his touch to guide you.

The warmth of his cum spreads through your body with a shiver, and you can feel the liquid expanding against your walls while he kept you plugged and full of him. As you both floated back down from the heights of bliss, your breaths came easier, softer, the lingering aftershocks of pleasure pulsing gently through you.

"You're mine ok?" Suguru coos, and all you can do is dumbly nod.

"I'll die for you, I'll kill a thousand monkeys for you, i'll hold them down so you can cut our their eyes. Just stay by my side."

[luckywolfsbane]

Bella's ghost: Clifford, I have a favor to ask. He's back to himself. There's something you must do to make him smile.

Clifford: I'm listening! If it helps my people at all, I'm so happy to do it!

Bella's ghost: Climb in bed with Ace. Push his legs aside. Do not move when he shifts. His legs will end up off kilter, and he will notice you when he wakes.

Clifford: But... Ace has chronic pain. If I push on his legs, his back and hip will hurt tomorrow.

Bella's ghost: That’s the idea. Clifford, you must bother him. It's what he needs. He doesn't know, but he wants you to do it. He needs it.

Clifford: He'll be mad and won't give me pats or treats.

Bella's ghost: Nonsense, he won't deprive you. He'll smile and give you extra pets despite the pain because it's what I used to do when I could climb in bed with him.

Clifford: If you're sure.

Bella's ghost: If I didn't know what I was doing, I wouldn't tell you to do this. Now go. Fuck up his back and make his ass late for work.

Clifford: Yes, ma'am! I will give Ace temporary pain in hopes he gains less-than temporary joy!

Bella's ghost: That's my boy. Make me proud.

[ofoceansandtombsanew]

you are love itself (君は愛そのものだ)

cw. fem!reader, childhood friend au, established relationship, love as worship, love as a choice, reader has a defined devil fruit ability

pairing. portgas d. ace x black!fem!reader

synopsis. his skin is dotted in stardust.

notes. a 1.3k look into those short moments of privacy you have with ace on the moby. i got the title from 'therefore you and me' after rewatching this amazing asl brothers animatic for the billionth time. cover comes klimt's the kiss (1908).

Everything is made of stardust; the stars that made Ace are simply visible to the eye.

They couldn't be contained in the depths of his body like the rest of the world's inhabitants. It's scattered all across his skin in a beautiful display, matching the skies they fell from. Isn't that something? You brush a hand against warm skin in awe. It's all right there. The stars themselves rest upon his skin, how beautiful is that? How could anyone want someone like that dead?

When you were children, Ace told you he would bring you the moon.

What do you need the moon for when you've been touching the stars since you were 10?

Straddling his lap, you can't help laughing as you think you'd been fighting a losing battle from the start. From the beginning, you'd been drawn to Ace and his stars and you wanted to follow where they'd go for the rest of your life.

"What's so funny?" Ace murmurs into your shoulder.

"I think I was born to love you." It is the only plausible conclusion for you to reach after 10 years of loving the same person. For the half of your life you've known him, you've chosen Ace from day one. You will continue to choose him for the rest of the life you have. You chose to chase him all around Mt. Corvo, you chose to be his friend, you chose to join his crew and your heart chose him even if your head had been slow to realize. "We don't need to find the One Piece," you murmur as you lead a trail of kisses from his shoulder to Ace's cheek. "I already have everything the world has to offer right here."

You feel Ace stiffen beneath you before he laughs sheepishly, "I think you need to have your eyes checked if you think that."

"Hey," you lean back so you can see his face. Your brows are furrowed sternly but your eyes sparkle with mischief and your lips stretch into a challenging grin. "I have better eyes than you, I can see the soul."

Ace snorts but his voice is light and as warm as the smile painting his face, "souls of the dead, yeah." Smiles suit Ace more than the frowns that were once commonplace when you were younger.

"That still counts," you protest with a chuckle. He doesn't have to believe he's worthy of it, you'll tell Ace all the same. You cup his face in your hands and enjoy the vibration of his mellifluous laughter under your fingers tips as you squeeze his cheeks. "There's a lot you can learn about this sort of stuff when you can see the dead." How the soul carries its wounds even after death. How the soul carries the essence of everything that makes something itself. How love can carry on beyond the grave.

You've seen it countless times by now in your truthfully short time of being a power holder.

The spirit of a man who wanted a few berries to leave as a surprise his husband could stumble upon to brighten his day.

An elderly woman dancing in the town square, seemingly alone following the steps she took with her lost love long ago. Unbeknownst to her, however, her love danced with all the same as they did once a long time ago.

Pods of orcas full of members past and present, refusing to part from their birth pod even in death.

How beautiful it is, a love like that.

Even while deceased, they choose to remain by their beloved all the same.

Whenever it is Ace's time, he'll take his stars with him and they will rest on his skin just as they did when he was alive. But I'll make sure you're so happy you won't want to stay, you vowed when you partook of the sea's cursed fruit. You carry this vow even now. Ace will die a happy death but more importantly, he will live a long and mirthful life.

(You can tell for as sure as your eyes are dry; the urge to cry and scream in mourning and warning nonexistent. Still it's your heart's desire that you go first so you don't ever have to risk the day you know death will come for Portgas D. Ace.)

"You know what I think," you cease your pinching, letting your lax thumbs stroke his face. Dark eyes look up at you like you're a dream and gold like sunlight rests in your chest. It's light yet heavy and even if your heart is calm, its rhythmic beating tells you something precious. And he's so, so precious. "I think that when people move on, they're reborn as someone else. Then they get to live life all over again. And one day, that's gonna happen to us."

Then you'll cease to be the 'you' you have been and so will he.

Maybe that time, you'll be raised in separate seas and there will be no trio of brothers you'll latch onto. Maybe he'll be born somewhere in Paradise but I'll be from the West Blue. Or maybe he'll be a fishman. Or a giant!

Maybe next time, Ace will be a short girl with firey auburn hair and chocolate brown eyes with the disposition to match. Or he'll be a scarred and gruff dragon moray eel fishman who is an overt romantic.

Maybe next time his stars will follow him as the marker that ties him to his previous life. Then you'll recognize him the moment you see him. But even if I don't, I'll love you then too. You don't need reminders of who he was to make you want him again.

Whatever the outcome may be, you will embrace it wholly.

"Whenever that happens, I'm gonna find you and I'm going to love you all over again. You can be a girl or a giant or a fishman." Or maybe he'll be the tiny human and you'll be the giant. It will be nice being taller than Ace for once, you tell him as much with a laugh. There's a spot of wetness at the corner of his eyes that you wipe away instinctively. "Or… maybe this world runs in one big loop and we get to be us again but that time we get to make different choices. Do the stuff we didn't do last time. But regardless of all the different things I might end up doing, the one thing that is gonna stay the same is that I'll choose you all over again."

There's a pause before Ace ducks from your gaze with a wet laugh, forehead pressed against your shoulder again. The unmistakeable feel of warm droplets subsequently follow. "Thatch must be cutting onions," he chuckles weakly. "Sorry."

"Dummy," you wrap your arms around his shoulders and inhale his scent. There's a natural sweetness to it you can't explain; it's sweet but there is a peppery kick. It's been that way since the first day you met him. I love him, I love him, I love him. The sentiment echoes throughout your entire being. "it's okay to cry."

"Would you really want me again?" His voice is soft and unsure like a young bird who doesn't know if it can trust its wings.

Who else would I want?

Why would I want anyone else?

I've known you for 10 years, Ace. There's nothing about you I don't want.

"Over and over again," you kiss his temple once, twice and then a third time before you lift his head and kiss the corners of his eyes. "It's you and no one else."

A noise of surprise escapes you when Ace's lips press against your own but you relax a beat later, humming tenderly. You relish every sensation, how his arms wrap around you tight and how his fingers gently dig into your back. The taste of salt on your lips is akin to the ocean and your heartbeat reverberates throughout your chest.

Yes, it's telling you something precious.

[merakiui]

2025 to-write list.

* halloweenie and the law of magnetism are the main priority fics at this moment!! after both are posted, i’ll start working my way through this list (in no particular order)! :D thank you for your patience!!!!

* (color references: purple is series; red is oneshot.)

✧ death row undertow

✧ 3M:3S

✧ the test of faith

✧ bittersweet secret

✧ my sweet monster

yandere!jade leech. your family takes in a mute, orphaned boy with mismatched eyes after he’s washed ashore. “a child spared by the sea can only carry with him the worst of curses,” they say, but you disagree. unbeknownst to you, your “friend” is as welcoming as the shallows and as deceptive as its depths.

✧ havfruens forelskelse/azul thought 2 sequel

yandere!azul ashengrotto. in an effort to conceal a growing secret, you lie to your husband leona. but a lie this devastating cannot be kept hidden forever, and as aquatic danger lurks you’ll eventually have to make a choice. between a lion and an octopus, the decision is obvious. so then, why do you hesitate?

✧ heartache hospital

yandere!scaramouche. kunikuzushi has never known love. for the many years he’s been alive, he’s only ever experienced countless heartaches. luckily, his admittance to the heartache hospital grants him the chance to meet someone who soothes the unending pain in his chest.

✧ the crocodile’s dilemma

yandere!riddle rosehearts. riddle leads a perfect life. he owns his dream house in the woods. he has a good job and makes an enviable salary. he is a law-abiding citizen…until he isn’t. it takes one night to ruin everything he’s striving to maintain, and with consequences mounting he sinks deeper into something criminal.

✧ the harvest maiden

yandere!skully j. graves. seeking shelter from the harsh elements, you enlist the aid of an eccentric pumpkin farmer. though there’s something inherently unsettling about him, you choose to favor his benevolence and kindness. but that is a line worn too thin, and when you announce your departure what is a besotted pumpkin farmer to do?

✧ eternally ever after

yandere!rook hunt. trapped in a gruesome time loop with a crazed stalker, you familiarize yourself with what it means to die. he claims he can save you from this repetition, but how is that possible when he’s the one responsible for your death(s)? if he is as inescapable as death, then perhaps your fates have always been intertwined.

✧ cobweb compulsion

yandere!sunday. you have always trusted sunday. but as plans are underway for a very important ceremony, you begin to look past years and years of lies to see the unpleasant truth that rests just beyond.

✧ homebound

yandere!azul ashengrotto. it is said that an ancient deity will awaken and bring ruinous misfortune to the island you call home. accompanied by your closest friends ace and deuce, you’re determined to uncover the mystery and stop a ruthless god before it’s too late.

✧ moonbroch

yandere!octavinelle. sequel to sea glass. they tell you the sea has always been your home, but something doesn’t feel right. an overwhelming sense of loss tugs at you whenever you spy your aquatic features in the mirror. if words won’t get through to your trio of captors, then disobedient actions certainly will. to ensure your escape goes well, you can only look to the moon and hope—but even that’s beginning to feel less and less like a comfort.

✧ meiri

yandere!rollo flamme. rollo would be inclined to welcome death if it was given to him by your graceful, gentle hands. seeing as that’s not the case and he has been made sacrifice to a most petulant being, he’s going to do the one thing a sacrificial lamb has never done before: live.

[tangsakura]

Missed Details from Sukuna's Introduction

Did you guys know that there are details we've missed from Sukuna's introduction by Satoru Gojo in chapter 3?

JJK Chapter 3

In this post, I'll go over the few details we've missed because of translation issues or difficulties.

WARNING: Very minor mentions of details beyond season 2 of JJK anime. Please DO NOT INTERACT if you don't want even a tiny bit of spoiler. Also, a bit of a long post ahead.

Missed Detail #1:

Let's start with this panel first.

"Ryomen Sukuna is an imaginary fierce god who has 2 faces and 4 arms."

In this panel, Sukuna was called a 鬼神 (kishin), which in general means a 'fierce god or spirit'. But there are also other meanings beyond this.

鬼神 also refers to gods or spirits/souls of heaven and earth. It is also a Buddhist term that refer to beings with supernatural abilities (e.g. shinigami, rakshasa). 鬼神 can also be pronounced as onigami, which means an invisible (nature) spirit, or a fierce and frightening god or spirit.

So this reflects the belief of people that Sukuna is a fiercely frightening divine being. They might've also believed that he was there even if they couldn't see him, just like how we treat our God(s) in real life (if you're a believer). They are definitely aware of his frightening powers.

It also has another implication behind it. The first kanji, 鬼, means oni. Oni has many translations including demon, evil spirits, trolls and ogres. In addition, during Heian era, the oni creatures were depicted as terrifying monsters that ate people, and there are even literature where oni's were depicted eating people in one mouthful.

Blue Oni, c. 1764. Painting by Soga Shōhaku (1730–1781)

The word 鬼神 is ironic, as well, because of his outward appearance, he can be considered an oni and a divine one at that.

Missed Detail #2:

Below is our last analysis for this post.

"Crowned with the title (name) of Sukuna, we couldn't even eradicate his grave wax that traverse eras as cursed objects."

The title that people gave to this man is 'Sukuna' alone. I don't know why they included 'Ryomen' in the English translation.

JJK Chapter 3 (ENG Translation)

I repeat. The only title they gave this man was 'Sukuna' (宿儺), which means the 'dwelling of exorcism.' 宿 (Suku) means lodging, inn, home, dwellings; while 儺 (Na) means exorcism or the ceremony of driving out evil spirits. What a great name for this guy!

Then what about Ryomen? Where did that come from?

I believe this is the name that they've been calling him for almost his entire life, even before he was called 'King of Curses'. That's right. This is definitely the name - means 'two-faced', btw - that they call him as a kid and became stuck with him until now. Imagine being called 'two-faced' as you grow up. That's most likely Sukuna's life until he was given the title of 'Sukuna'.

His name is ironic in a sense since these people equated him to the (real-life) Ryomen Sukuna who was written in the Nihon Shiki as a vicious force of nature after the imperial family of Japan declared him as such.

So yeah there you have it. Thank you, Gojo, for the wonderful introduction of Sukuna.

I hope this post made your day. Until then.

References:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Oni

https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/%E9%AC%BC%E7%A5%9E

https://ja.wikipedia.org/wiki/%E9%AC%BC%E7%A5%9E

[plumpitlouder]

Back from beyond the grave to draw Jon for ace week

[paramorerocker18]

An Ace from Beyond the Grave

Dove had become a vigilante by force, using stealth and cunning to try and help those in the worst area of Gotham.

When the Red Hood takes control of the territory the rot that runs through these cursed streets spills over. The vigilante and crime lord have a past that threatens to drown them both.

Or Reader doesn't know that Jason is the Red Hood. Red Hood doesn't realise that Reader is his first love from before his death. Jason doesn't know the extent of damage that his death caused.

CW: swearing, implied threat of SA, violence, trafficking ring, guns

A/N I know there is already a DC character with the name dove but its story relevant later so we are just ignoring that okay

Chapter 1

It was a simple recon mission, get in and get out. A small stealth mission, she would get in find the information she needed to help bring down the trafficking ring and then get out unnoticed.

An easy task.

Oracle had scouted out the warehouse well, she easily identified the best way to breach the building was via the unsecured sky light. After scaling the side of the warehouse with the help of her grappling hook she dropped herself onto the metal structure beams of the warehouse.

The warehouse was partitioned into two, down below were two hench men presumably on guarding the other room.

She flipped the infrared sensors in her mask on. The next room showed 6 heat signatures.

There was not supposed to be seven heat signatures.

She cursed under her breath and navigated along the beams to cross the dividing wall that luckily did not reach the roof of the warehouse.

Looking down, her stomach felt like it had fallen to the floor.

She wasn't expecting to find was the operation warehouse being used an active base to smuggle children. There was supposed to be a few guards, an easy one and done just a small foot note of the patrol and pass the information to Oracle.

Instead here she was crouched on the cold metal support beams, looking down at the far too small bound bodies of four children and two guards.

Quickly clambering along the steel frame to the adjacent room containing the two hench men as quietly as possible. She steeled herself and paused weighing up her options.

Flicking infrared off and upping the assisted listening device Dove could hear the guards below.

They were sat across from each other on fold out chairs playing some card game.

'This gig has got to be the worst one yet, why the fuck has the boss got four of us guarding the brats, what a fucking waste,' the larger man grumbled. Throwing down a card with more force than necessary.

'Quit your bitching, this is a sweet job and anyway the cargo gets shipped out in a few hours we just gotta sit here and get paid,' the leaner man with the crooked nose snapped back.

The man using the word cargo to refer to the stolen children filled Dove with revulsion, the taste of bile biting at the back of her throat.

Her options were looking much more slim than before.

There was no chance of calling in Oracle to ask for back up, not with the signal jammers she had set up to stop the hench man from calling for reinforcements before breaking in.

Idiot now your truly on your own! Her minds voice snarled.

If she left there was chance that by the time she had secured backup the traffickers could have already moved the children to the next location.

She had no choice she had to act. Taking a deep breath in to regulate her fried nervous system; she dropped down.

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

Jason crawled through the small sky light opening.

After beating the intel out of one of the many low lives that tainted this wretched city, he had finally found the warehouse. They were using it to smuggle the crime alley children to the highest bidders.

His alley, his jurisdiction and these animals thought they could steal his children. Pure venom was raging in Jason's veins. Making matters worse was they had taken Melanie.

Early into Jason's tenure of the Red Hood becoming the protector of crime alley, he had found Andi and Melanie, two street kids who's life story was not dissimilar to the others drowning in the cesspit of Gotham. Not too dissimilar to the life that he Jason had lived before.

Andi and Melanie were sisters, stuck in an abusive home where their mother spent the little money they had on drugs. Andi had been working the streets since she was 17 as well as two jobs in the day.

It had been the coldest natural (not caused by Mr Freeze natural) winter that had hit Gotham in years. The subzero temperatures had even frozen crime, the rogue gallery had gone quiet and even the petty criminals had stayed inside.

Jason was perched on a roof top surveying the still night when he heard a voice by the buildings fire escape.

"I know it's cold Melie, I'm sorry. Here wrap this around you," Jason peered down to see two girls, the eldest shrugging off her jacket and wrapping it around the younger girl.

"Andi, I want to go home please. I want to go home," the youngest girl pleaded, the shivering and tearful sound of her voice piercing the still night.

"I know duckie, we will soon. Mummy's just not very well at the moment. We will go back when she falls asleep." The elder girls voice shook with the lie as she pulled the tiny silhouette of the child into her and started stroking her hair.

Jason let out a hard breath. He was suddenly transported to being 12 years old thrown out by Willis because they were too high to deal with their own child. How many times had he told himself the same lie that his mum was just sick not too high out of her mind seeing things that weren't there to care for him.

The Red Hood would be damned to allow another child to be chewed up and spat back out by their parents neglect the way he had. In that moment he made a decision, Jason came down the fire escape and called out in the least intimidating voice he could muster.

"Hey, it's far too cold for you two in these temperatures, what are you doing out here," Jason cringed at the modulator in his helmet carrying out his voice, his attempt to sound friendly was a poor one.

The elder girl whipped around to the sound of his voice shoving the younger behind her body like a hunted animal protecting her young. The elder sister's arms were bare, she was lean and dark haired with dark brown distrusting eyes glaring at Jason.

Jason put his hands up in a surrender position as he stepped slowly towards the pair. "I am not here to hurt you, I swear."

The younger girl peeked around her sister and Jason caught site of her small rounded face, her nose red with the cold and two light brown plaits framing her face. Her sister was a darker complexion with her hair in a protective style he vaguely recognised as twists.

"Andi, that's the Red Hood he protects people I've seen him on the news," the younger girl exclaimed her wide brown eyes staring at him in amazement.

Having looked at the pair longer now, he could tell they were related but probably only half sisters. They both had the same heart shaped face and nose.

"Oh I know who he is," Andi said with distrust still evident in her voice. "The other girls say you help them, make sure to stop any men getting too rough with them. That true?" The Gotham accent rang out clear as day.

"I do what I can, anyone who breaks the rules, they deal with me," she is a working girl Jason thought, which explains why she didn't immediately book it at the sight of the helmet. Jason had made it very clear that in his territory anyone who messed with the sex workers will be dealt with. Brutally.

"Tiff said you helped her with Carson and he hasn't been seen since."

"If I did then I am sure Carson learnt his lesson," Jason didn't know who Carson was but he had hospitalised those who didn't heed his warnings or worse. "Listen," Jason scratched the back of his neck with anxiety, "I heard your Mum is sick, you really shouldn't be out in this cold. I know somewhere you can stay for a while... until she gets better."

After their first meeting, Jason had lead them to a nearby apartment he had rented as a safe house nearby. Andi had put Melanie to bed and had told him about their mums drug habit and her tendency to forget who her daughters were and freak out at them whilst high. Andi was working 2 jobs and working the streets at night to keep them afloat. Jason transferred the apartment over to Andi the next morning and had set up the payments to the landlord directly from him each month.

So when Andi came to Red Hood six months later in hysterics that Melanie had been taken whilst her girlfriend Lucy had been beaten half to death by a trafficking ring. Jason knew he had to find her.

As Jason positioned himself on the metal structure of support beams what he wasn't expecting was to see a dark figure clad in a black vigilante costume in one hand holding a rag to the mouth of a struggling man with the other arm wrapped around his neck in a headlock.

He watched as the man went unconscious and the vigilante dropped their hold on the guard, who very unceremoniously slumped to the ground.

The other guard flew upwards from his chair and shouted something, presumably for the guards next door.

The guard clearly breaking through the shocked stupor of what had just happened raised his hands in a fighting stance, but his reactions were too slow the masked figure had already launched towards him and expertly used their weight to tackle him to the ground. They tussled back and forth until the masked vigilante grabbed something and dug it into his neck. The man managed to throw the vigilante off and staggered to his feet.

The guard reached up to his neck and removed whatever had been stabbed into his neck and tossed it aside. Jason's eyes followed to where it fell and saw the needle tipped syringe with the plunger fully pushed down.

"You fucking bitch," the nearly 6 foot man spat at the vigilante, "I will make you pay for that you stupid"

The beginning of whatever explicit that he was going to hurl out was cut short by a swift punch to the face.

Jason couldn't help but be impressed as the guard staggered backward, the drugs he had been injected with clearly having taken effect.

The vigilante pivoted away quick on their feet, almost gracefully towards the door as Jason followed along the steel beams.

"It's the Dove," he heard one of the men call as she broke through the door. The Dove, great another bird for the bats Jason thought bitterly.

The three men had their weapons drawn pointing at who Jason presumed was the Dove. He hadn't noticed that she had also entered the room armed with a gun in hand. The thought struck him that she had a gun, Jason didn't know all the vigilantes that protected Gotham but she couldn't be a Bat if she used guns. Get a grip Hood, what did that matter right now he thought.

Jason saw looked down past the standoff and saw the children who were bound and gagged, he could hear the small sobbing muffled by the rags stuffed in their mouths. He saw Melanie in her signature plaits with a purple welt on her tear stained face gazing at the intruder.

Anger filled Jason at the site of the bruising to her face and the rage that the Lazuraus Pit had imbued within him rolled through his body in hot waves. It took everything in him not to jump down then and start unloading bullets into the pathetic filth that had stolen vulnerable children.

He pulled his gun from his right holster and began tying a rope to the cross section of the beam he was on as the voices of the vigilante apparently named Dove and the guards carried up to him.

"Drop your weapons and leave the kids and you get to live," Dove barked at them.

The tall greasy guard let out a mirthless laugh, "I don't think so birdie, it's three to one. It's nice of you to drop by, we aren't allowed to touch the merchandise," his predatory eyes flicking to the children, "but now you are here we can show them what they have to look forward to once they are bought. It will be a teaching moment" The henchmen all twitter with excitement at the leaders threats as Dove grips the barrel of her weapon harder.

That was all Jason needed to hear and he swung off the beam down the rope.

Part 2

♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♠︎♤♤♠︎♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♠︎♠︎

Let me know what you think, it's my first fic go easy on me

[goodqueenaly]

Say hypothetically Jaime died or was killed while serving in the kingsguard anytime before Tyrion is convinced as a traitor. Who do you think Tywin would prefer to inherit the rock in that scenario, since he's made both his feelings on women's roles and on Tyrion very clear? Who do you think would actually stand a better chance (since Tywin cannot change the legal succession from beyond the grave)? Does it depend on where they are in the time line regarding Cersei's marriage?

A hypothetical covering the span of Jaime’s service in the Kingsguard “anytime before Tyrion is convinced as a traitor” is a pretty long period indeed; we’re talking about a stretch of time from 15-year-old Jaime’s investiture in 281 AC to Tyrion’s trial in 300 AC. (Let’s not even mention the numerous momentous events in Westerosi history in this period of time, much less the absence of Jaime at any given point would have had on these events.) So, all else aside, I think it would be very dependent on when specifically Jaime died in this scenario as to what Tywin might have done about his own succession.

If Jaime died prior to or during Robert’s Rebellion (again, let’s put aside Jaime’s very significant action at the end of the Rebellion), then I think Tywin would have had to consider whether he wanted to remarry. While Tywin IOTL never considered and would never have considered remarrying himself, he could take this decision secure in (what he believed was) the knowledge that he had his perfect golden heir, Jaime. However, without that perfect heir in his pocket, so to speak, Tywin may have felt more pressured to take a new wife, so that he could have a (male, able-bodied) heir of his own body. Would Tywin have looked to another wife, perhaps in particular another Lannister (like, say, one of Joanna’s younger sisters, or one of the daughters of Joanna’s brother Stafford, or his cousin Damon’s granddaughter Lanna, assuming any were the right age), in order to produce another perfect Lannister male heir? It’s at least possible. (How naming the son of a second wife as his heir would have been affected by the Widow’s Law is of course a completely unanswerable question.) 

Alternatively, Tywin may have looked to Cersei as the producer of his eventual heir. Admittedly, such a plan might have clashed with Tywin’s royal ambitions for Cersei, but between the throne and Casterly Rock, I think Tywin may well have chosen the latter. While I doubt Tywin would have seriously invested in Cersei as a future lady in her own right (any more than he did in Cersei as a queen and future queen mother and regent), I could see Tywin seeing Cersei as an acceptable Lannister broodmare, through which his own precious (to him) bloodline could be preserved and produced in an acceptable (read: male) heir. (Again, it’s far too speculative to determine whom Tywin might have chosen as Cersei’s husband, but I could see a Lannister kinsman like cousin Daven or even uncle Tyrek being selected to reinforce Tywin’s Lannister superiority.)

If Jaime died after Robert’s Rebellion but before the death of Joffrey, then I could see where Tywin would simply have seized Tommen from Cersei and raised him as a Lannister heir. There would have been some historical precedent for this, with Lucerys Velaryon being in his lifetime his “grandfather” Corlys’ heir as (ostensibly) the second son of Corlys’ late son, Laenor. With Joffrey assumed to inherit the Iron Throne, Tywin would have, in a sense, the large-scale Lannister political domination he had attempted to achieve in ASOS (notably expressed through the twin Valyrian steel swords made from Ice): the King on the Iron Throne and the Lord of Casterly Rock as the two heads of the Lannister family, inextricably binding the throne to House Lannister in perpetuity.  

If Jaime died in the short window between the Purple Wedding and Tyrion losing his trial by combat, then I think Tywin would have had to choose (or at least believed he had to choose) between versions of the above. Given that Tywin IOTL was ready to taking the new King Tommen back to the Rock to “learn to be a Lannister”, I could see Tywin perhaps simply naming Tommen his heir and installing him at an official or de facto new royal court at the Rock (something along what he had done during Aerys II's reign), fully merging the identities of the royal dynasty and House Lannister as he had begun to ahead of Joffrey’s wedding. Tywin may also have pushed the idea of Cersei’s remarriage even harder in this scenario, which he was already beginning to do IOTL (though whether he would have been so eager to wed her to Oberyn Martell, his preferred choice in ASOS, with Oberyn now poised to father the next generation of Lannister heirs is a more speculative question). Tywin may even have decided that when Tommen had sons of his own, the second son would inherit Casterly Rock - though this succession idea may have been too uncertain for Tywin’s taste, given that Tommen was probably the better part of a decade away from fathering multiple sons of his own (let’s put aside Cregan Stark’s apparent willingness to bet on a similar potential through the Pact of Ice and Fire).

About the only certain takeaway I think we can have in any version of this scenario is that Tywin would have done everything in his power to keep Casterly Rock out of Tyrion’s hands. While Tywin may not have gone quite so far as forcing Tyrion into the Faith, Citadel, or Night’s Watch - Tywin’s obsessive focus on Lannister exceptionalism (and the primacy of his own line within that) meaning that even the lowest and least of the main-line Lannisters, as he saw Tyrion, was superior in rank to every other aristocrat, and so unfit for a life of servitude - I very much believe Tywin would never admit that Tyrion had any right to Casterly Rock (much less the best claim as the most senior eligible legitimate male descendant of Tywin even IOTL). 

[altocat]

I mean, besides the big bad ultimate illness (degradation/Jenova tomfoolery/geostigma), how would the firsts +Zack and Cloud (AC or not) be when they are genuinely sick. like, legitimately they think they might die. no Genesis thinking the sniffles are death. no no no, GRAVELY ILL.

(also ily, you're great, have a wonderful day ♥️)

This is gonna be SO MORBID lmao Thank you for the tasty angst.

TWs for potentially distressing topics.

Angeal: He initially tries to take the pragmatic approach, the resourceful one. Assuming he's about to die, he gets his affairs in order, arranges everything as neatly as possible. He tries to put on a brave face, even though it's emotionally exhausting him. He tries to juggle everything and bottle his feelings to the point where he becomes depressed and slightly unstable, eventually crumbling from the weight of it, admitting that he hopes it comes as quickly as possible so he doesn't have to prolong his own suffering.

Zack: Keeps a smile on his face despite everything. He's scared, yeah. But he's facing the prospect of dying with a sense of courage and acceptance. Yeah, it's terrifying. But it's a new adventure. He'll face whatever comes. He'll keep joking and laughing. He'll stand toe to toe with Death, look it in the eyes, and depart as an equal. That's the real Zack Fair. Fearless to the end.

AC!Cloud: Cloud privately worries about his loved ones. Tifa. Denzel. All his friends. His family. He wants to protect them. How will they go on without him? What if he doesn't have time to tell them how he really feels? What if it's too late? He once again underestimates just how loved and cherished he really is, with everyone gathering together to be with him, letting him know that they're not going anywhere. Tifa especially. She'd be right there beside him on his deathbed, holding his hand the entire time.

Genesis: Genesis just gets wild, destructive, and more impulsive than usual. He LOVES life, LOVES living. To lose it all is an existential break for him that causes him to become reckless and angry, mindlessly seeking out pleasurable distractions in order to ward off the anguish and pain of illness, regression. Eventually, Genesis just decides that if he IS going to die, better to go out in a blaze of glory. One last big FUCK YOU to the world that robbed him of the chance to live. A final stand against a hated enemy. A noble sacrifice for those he loves. Maybe even one last reckless bit of fun. Genesis plans for the mother of all showstoppers, a grand exit to ensure his name is not forgotten.

Sephiroth: Sephiroth initially expected to be angry and upset--after all, that's how most people feel in such scenarios. But apart from his reluctance to be permanently parted from his few and far between loved ones, he curiously feels a sense of....relief. Relief. Peace. Letting something go, something that has long burdened him, long caused him pain. It's over now. No more questions. No more strain. No more self-suppression. Needles and tanks. Cells and cages. All of it gone. He's free. He's escaped. And there are only outstretched hands beyond the veil, waiting shapes he'd so long hoped to approach, to know, to merge with.

He'll find her again.

He'll be with her. In her arms.

And he'll be warm, at long, long last.

Home.

[coraniaid]

🔥 - Cordelia

Cordelia is a character I generally like without actually thinking about her very much, if that makes sense? Maybe I would care about her more actively if I were more invested in Angel; or maybe knowing what that show will ultimately do to her is what stops me from getting invested in it. Not really sure either way to be honest.

As far as hot takes go ... well, I don't think I really buy into most of the Cordelia fanon I sometimes see on Tumblr. Can't really put why better than I did last year. Like I said in my recent Faith hot take: I don't like the fanon instinct to try to make characters nicer and more sympathetic than they're presented as in canon, especially when they have some kind of canonical redemption arc. You're getting rid of one of the more interesting things about them! Why?

On the other hand, I do like the headcanon (not originally mine - I think I got this from @all-seeing-ifer) that Cordelia is ace, or at least that she's accidently ace-coded. I mean, I certainly don't think it is at all deliberate on the part of the writers, but when you go to look there sure are a lot of scenes in which Cordelia either expresses disinterest in (sometimes even disgust at) the very idea of sex (in Faith, Hope & Trick for example: "not the horny thing -- yuck!") or admits to being confused by the thought that other people might want to have sex (in Innocence, for example, she asks Xander with seeming genuine puzzlement: "does looking at guns really make girls want to have sex? That's scary.").

Oh, and although the show is really not clear on this at all, I think the high school Scooby dynamic is slightly more interesting if Willow and Cordelia were (briefly) friends when they were both much younger. To borrow a term I saw recently, this is more canon compatible than canon compliant -- I don't think anything in canon rules it out, but it's a bit of a stretch to say this something that actually comes from canon.

Certainly Xander and Cordelia knew each other from a very young age (they've known each other for at least twelve years in Season 2, as per The Dark Age). And as Willow and Xander were friends as early as kindergarten (which is confirmed in Grave if not before), I think it's safe to assume Cordelia knew Willow at that age too. In Innocence Willow reminds Xander of the "We Hate Cordelia" club ("of which you are treasurer!"), but we don't know exactly when this was formed (I'm guessing a while ago though, given the childishness of the name). What if said club was something Willow formed only after she and Cordelia stopped being friends? After Cordelia met Harmony, say (who we also know, from Graduation Day, is somebody Willow has known for at least a decade: "she picked on me for ten years") and chose being popular over her previous friendship?

Again, I suspect this isn't intentional but it's a take I rather like, and one that I think makes a bit of internal sense. Willow and Cordelia do actually seem to get on better than you might think in the early seasons -- when there's nobody else around for Cordelia to try to impress by putting Willow down, anyway (among other examples, see their intereactions throughout Prophecy Girl). And while Willow obviously doesn't like, say, Harmony -- in fact she hates her "with a fiery vengeance" according to Graduation Day again -- there was apparently no "we hate Harmony" club. What makes Cordelia different (beyond being a main character when Harmony isn't, which is probably what the writers actually had in mind).

Well, what if Cordelia isn't just one of the many people who bullied Willow in high school: what if she was her friend until she ditched her to be more popular? Wouldn't that sting just a little bit more?

We know that Cordelia is actually pretty smart, even though she tries to play it down ("I have some experience of covering these things up," she tells Xander after he sees her SAT scores in Lovers Walk; and don't forget she'd previously said she was "looking forward" to taking the SATs because she "does well in standardized testing" and was accepted into multiple good schools she just couldn't afford to attend). In fact, Cordelia basically has to be academically successful in high school in order to fulfull her primary role as Buffy's shadow self.

But if Cordelia consciously realised at some point that she should hide how smart she is from her peers in order to be popular, is it that much of a stretch to think she also decided to cut off her existing friendship with Willow, who Principal Snyder describes in Doppelgangland as represenative of "the pinnacle of academic achievement at Sunnydale High"?

Also, in the spirit of this post about parallels between Willow and Cordelia (which I really like), it's interesting to compare Willow's nightmare in Restless -- being back in high school and somehow being Found Out -- with Cordelia's fear in Season 1's Nightmares of being dragged into the chess club (which, at least in the language of television) is easy to read as a metaphor for being exposed as somebody who is secretly brainy and perhaps enjoys stereotypically academic or nerdy things. Just like Willow does, in fact.

Remember what Cordelia tells Buffy all the way back in Welcome To The Hellmouth when they run into Willow: "if you want to fit in here, the first rule is: know your losers". That is: Cordelia tells Buffy, the girl who she serves as a mirror of all season, that if she wants to fit in she'll have to choose not to be friends with Willow (and instead performatively belittle and bully her whenever she has an audience). Is it that much of a leap to suppose that a much younger Cordelia once learned that lesson herself?

[l0stfoster]

Hi same anon who asked abt paul (i love him so bad) what are the reactions from the others the first time paul (or marcia/cherry for that matter) gets jumped like, real bad .

Paul Anon (that's what I'm dubbing you now get fucked /silly) the beloved OKAY SO! Giving you some deets on their first jumping & how their closest friends (or in Cherry & Paul's case {Marcia's if you're a Marbit fan} how their partners react) Cherry:

- For Cherry (and Marcia) the initial reaction the gang has is absolute anger and fury. The fact that the girls were attacked just for merely being in/around the presence of the gang and or part of the population that holds power is so infuriating. They're girls, so they're not roughed up as bad as greasers usually are on account of general 60's shit, but it's still not great. - Cherry's is arguably worse between her and Marcia's on account of a psychological impact; she's got rope burns around her wrists due to them being tied to stunt her power and her hair was cut practically up to her ears- both to prevent any magic usage and just for raw humiliation. She's also bruised and beaten a good bit; god knows fights are horrendous. I wouldn't be surprised if they ripped her earrings out, as Bev's the one who leads their jumpings. - Ace loses her absolute fucking SHIT. The only thing restraining her from going nuclear and burning down soc territory in her rage is both the risk of prison and to an extent doing something that drastic would get innocent people hurt. That would make her no better than the socs. It sure as hell doesn't stop her from going wild on the ones she can find, probably gets herself a few nights in the slammer for it. - Recovery is rough all over. They get her a neater haircut but she's shaken for obvious reasons, it probably takes a while before she has the guts to walk around her side of the tracks again.

Marcia:

- Marcia's lack of power means that she's less of a target, but if she gets the sight of her, it's a rougher fight. She can't defend herself all too well, but her jumping is more on the physical aspect as they beat her pretty bad too. Lots of bruises and cuts and her earrings are ripped out too. She probably has a better chance of fighting back because she wasn't automatically restrained, but 1v4 (or more) doesn't go well. - The most impactful thing for her that happens during it is that they destroy the feather she was gifted by Two-Bit. That's quite literally one of the most cherished things she owns, as she values how Two's been willing to interact with her after she'd watched his jumping without trying to stop it. Bev burns it beyond salvaging and Marcia's absolutely destroyed. She could handle the beating, can overcome being sore and pained for days, but having the thing that resembled the trust she'd fought so hard to earn back was devastating. - Two was probably THE most pissed off of the entire gang for Marcia's jumping, not only at how she was hurt but the feather being destroyed is such a blow to him as a Harpy. If he weren't afraid of Bev under the risk of having his wings fucked with again, he'd hunt her down and give her a taste of her own medicine. Cherry and Ace are also super pissed, 'cause the girls gotta stick together, but they don't really match the fury that is a pissy harpy; especially since harpies gang together— Two could've easily had every other greaser harpy on his side if he prompted it. - Recover is obviously just as rough, I wouldn't be surprised if Marcia starts rooming with someone on the east side out of fear of returning to the west side; especially since it's fully known now by other socs that she's powerless despite her association.

Paul:

- Paul is, to put it simply, almost beaten into an early grave. Not only did he previously have the most notoriety of the socs— which made him hanging with greasers a complete slap to the face— but he is also cursed. Another really prominent reason behind his jumping is pretty simple; he’s gay. Society will look at Cherry and Marcia and the socs will go easier on them because they’re girls, but Paul? Paul’s a man, a guy who turned his back on the high society in favor of these pests. - His jumping Is rough all over. They're taunting him throughout, snarking about his sexuality, poking fun at how he can't even fend them off with his magic because not only is he weak, but he's a cursed who can't even do that right. They fuck him up bad; busted ribs, broken nose, and his arms are likely dislocated from them pulling him around hard to tie his hands together so he couldn't use his magic. He's got cuts and bruises galore. I'd go as far enough to say they probably broke an arm or something. I like to imagine they ripped his letterman jacket away from him because he didn't deserve something their kind wore when he was with those freaks now. Honestly, the only reason they stopped was because they couldn't see he was still breathing from the angle they were at, though they killed him, and booked it 💀. If they hadn't, though, they probably would've gone until he did stop. - The only reason he's found is because his familiar trails back to the house and grabs the attention of whoever’s there to get them to come with her, since Paul’s completely knocked out. It’s most likely Soda who finds him since he is arguably the one she likes most of the gang and she’ll gravitate towards him. He’ll follow easily too, since he likes her. It’s very similar to finding Johnny, practically that all over again - Darry is obviously the most pissed, probably the same level of anger he felt after his brother's jumpings and Two’s own. The same people who used to be on Paul’s side of things turning a switch so fast over what? A bit of magic and the fact that he likes dudes? Anger doesn’t even describe it in a way— the fae are territorial, and as far as he’s aware, Paul’s a part of that. He's out for blood; but Paul won't spill names so he's got no specific target. That sure as hell won't stop him from finding out, though. He's just got to behave enough to keep his brothers in his care. - The rest of the gang is a whole mixed bag. Dally doesn’t like Paul but his general response is “It’s deserved but only if I were the one doing it”, so take that as you will. Pony’s petty like Dally but since Darry cares he helps out with patching him up. The rest come to the conclusion that pretty boy here probably needs some watching eyes so he’s stuck with them for a bit. He does NOT know how to respond to it. Pretty much the idea for them is that only they're allowed to fuck with Paul, not the socs. - Paul probably has the easiest (mental) recovery for a few good reasons. It's certainly not his first fight/jumping, and it's not his first time being hurt that badly. There's a reason he's gravitated toward his mom despite her efforts to shove him away.